#just to add an extra. they also told him not to make any noise and he did in fact stayed silent for half an hour

[malkaviian]

expanding on the "luca was bullied" thing, because i knew i was going to give this guy some trauma eventually

[mecachrome]

your oscar primer was absolutely brilliant, thank you so much for posting it!! well-researched, well-written, and a good balance of educational and hilarious. if you want to share, i’d be very interested in reading any of the parts you mentioned that you cut out, like george-admiring, oscar’s psyche, etc, but no pressure ofc 🫶

omg no thank you so much for your kind words, i appreciate it a lot!!! :D andddd let me see... honestly i was just going to add a few more quotes & anecdotes from other people about his personality but i ended up incorporating most of them into the primer (e.g. mark's), but in general i think it's really charming how Every Single Adult who has ever worked with oscar throughout the years is so deeply and immediately convinced of his maturity. i did work in most of this old ask but it has a few extra quotes in there from mclaren personnel! anyway more below the cut:

i guess really the thing to Me about oscar is like...... idk if this makes any sense but i personally love how he's naturally a really gracious and diplomatic person but is also deeeeeply self-assured and objective, which on one hand means he presents as quite humble when he doesn't make excuses for himself or get caught up in deceptively high results, but on the other also means he refuses to give anyone else credit for his own success; if you remember me briefly mentioning prematax in that post he talks about it in the f1fs pod where he basically goes i didn't win because of PREMA, in fact i've NEVER LOST TO A TEAMMATE, SO. like any racing driver that is def a big source of pride for him, and i think it speaks to the "silent killer" (per lando) side to him, the guy who mark says "falls asleep" when hearing stories of his (championless) career, who said that he supported mark out of national obligation growing up but—let us not forget—vettel was the one winning everything back then anyway, who says he put even more pressure on himself to win his final race in f2 despite having clinched the title 2 races prior because he felt the innate urge to prove that he wouldn't simply ease off the gas pedal and still had it in himself to subjugate the field one last time.

along these lines oomf and i have discussed before how he and alex rank similarly on the kind/nice dichotomy in a way that is slightly diametric to lando, wherein he is always willing to offer tidy bits of sympathy for someone else's struggles but doesn't ever really envision any of them as relevant to his own experiences, because getting caught up in that "external noise" would be a waste of time (even with logan in the f3 finale it was honestly kind of like "aw man that sucks, i'd hate for it to be me... ANYWAY"). like not to maybe exaggerate his interiority but i enjoy that he carries an amount of hidden tension that he obviously consciously decides to not take reactionary measures over—though that doesn't mean it isn't there, it's just very well regulated (unrelated but he does actually work with mental coach emma murray, who also works with scott mclaughlin and whom he says helped him center himself at the end of his eurocup season). but he's still very... unfiltered about when he's been disrespected in an unperturbed, straightforward manner, like saying otmar confronting him on the sim over being promoted to the seat was "bizarre and frankly upsetting," the face he made when he was told they'd overtaken alpine in the standings in 2023, telling the kids in that hp tuners interview that the renault engineers treated his first f1 test too nonchalantly, etc. 😭 like every interview back when he was a reserve driver was soooo "i'm gracious about being stuck in this role but also i've proven myself way too much to Not Hate This Compromise and i'll be pissed as hell if i don't get a seat next year"... i'll stop here but basically he is truly a master of balancing gritted-teeth conviction with his tactical charm and it is one of my fav things ever about him!!!

also another quote i love is this one from david sera about his driving style, because 1) i love the correlation between it and his personality/calmness, 2) i'm obsessed with the dynamic of his early rc days helping nurture a style of "finesse" in his driving throughout his junior career that may not have appeared naturally if he'd only begun racing in karting (and subsequently how he had to learn to not get "muscled around" after moving to europe), and 3) of course as a noted jb22 appreciator i love when people note similarities in his inputs to jb because it is delicious to ME:

Coming from a remote control car background where concentration, finesse and smooth inputs, these were the traits we saw in Oscar in the cadet category. [...] You would often see other drivers have an advantage in the early part of the race, driving more aggressively, but Oscar had a more calm approach.

c__c but back to the first part of the ask and our good friend russell jorge, i'm mostly obsessed with oscar's reactions to his performance at the rollercoaster that was spa 2021 and the fact that he's been so vocally appreciate of george "outperforming" the car he was in. the 2 instances of the word HERO on his twitter:

and then this quote in an interview he did in 2022:

"[Success] is definitely not just defined by just world championships, and if you can outperform the car that you're in—I think George Russell has been a very fine example of that in years previous, you know, constantly getting the most out of that Williams and of course Spa. (laughs) Bit controversial, but he got a podium at the end of the day! And even without that, he qualified second, he outqualified everyone except Max in a Williams, which, you know, is an unbelievable result."

also george being the only f1 driver (i think) to tweet him for his f2 title :saluting_face:

AND ALSO THEM SHARING THE ANECDOTE OF THEIR AWKWARD FIRST MEETING ON THE FAST & CURIOUS POD??? aka oscar was told in his april 2023 ep that they were going to interview george next and he was like oh ok you can ask him about our "slightly left-field introduction," and then they had george on who was like oh yeah i met oscar for the first time washing our hands together in the bathroom on our way to the ausgp in 2020 😭 what a way to meet.

[oh-hell-help-me]

July 14: National Motorcycle Day

As any good Kingly Parent would do, Bowser had long since commissioned a private racetrack and personalized Karts for his kids to use.

In fact, it was an early Wintertime Present- something intentionally early to both provide the opportunity for his kids to ride their Karts without snow-related hazards and to stave off their explorations for the other gifts he had hidden.

Even now, he had a variety of extra parts in the event their tastes changed, their Karts break, or (before Luigi was in the picture) that Peach could customize her own to race against the kids.

The first two happened less than he anticipated, but he was the least disappointed with how the third possibility changed.

While he never expected Luigi to want to do anything more than cheer on the sidelines, he is pleasantly surprised to have his husband be eager to ride alongside them.

He is also surprised to see him craft his own Kart- a motorcycle, to be precise.

It was different from his husband’s usual selections in Kart races- lacking any logo or mimicry, and apparently modeled after earth-based motorcycles.

He would have teased Luigi over its plainness (seriously, he could at least add some flames), but…

The Kart ran faster than anything the Koopa Kingdom had ever produced, and seeing it run the track for the first time had left him and the kids staring after Luigi in shock.

And when he came back in record time?

Iggy was the first to bombard him with questions, with Junior and Larry a close second and third before his human was swarmed with giddy questions and requests to ride the Kart.

(To this day, Bowser still doesn’t know how Luigi was able to deny their puppy eyes.)

So, when Luigi requested to race him on the track, one on one, Bowser hadn’t thought much of the look in his eyes when he teased about eating dust before he even started.

Coming from the same person who has rigged the whole castle with a stereo just to share some music? He really should have seen it coming when he opened up the Royal Garage-

And was faced with a black, flame-painted motorcycle.

In his size.

He swears that he hadn’t made some weird noise in surprise, but the amusement shining in Luigi’s eyes told him otherwise.

"Do you like it?"

Yes- yes, he did. And if his brain would work enough to let him say that, everything would be great.

"I know it might be a bit plain for your tastes-"

What is he talking about- it had flames!

"But I think the late-night tinkering on the improved acceleration makes up for it!"

He- he did all that? On top of his work in the castle?

"I- I’m not sure if the seat is comfy enough- it’s a bit hard to craft one that will support your shell-"

'Support his'- screw words when his mouth can do better than talking!

Like a good husband, he takes Luigi by the hips- pulling him closer with one hand as the other tilts his wonderful husband's head up and he leans down-

And it's criminally easy to melt into the softness behind his lips, easy to pull him even closer as he feels a gentle hand caress his jaw, trace under his horn, and lightly grip his hair and tug him closer-

But they have to breathe, and while Bowser is willing to part for a moment, the way Luigi came back flushed and panting nearly made him risk asphyxiation just to kiss him longer.

"I... I guess that's a 'yes'?"

"Luigi, love," Bowser lets their noses press together, torn between peering into his eyes and the urge to smother his husband with kisses- "My smart, thoughtful light-of-my-life. Of course it's a 'yes'."

[junkh3ad]

After giving it some thought, I’m convinced that all of Dethklok including Charles might be neurodivergent. I headcanon Nathan, Toki and maybe Charles on the autism spectrum. Nathan is more obvious cuz he was nonverbal until he was five, has special interests like metal or anything brutal. Toki does have special interests too like cutesy stuff and animals or plushies and gets overstimulated by loud noises. I have autism myself so I can kinda relate.

Skwisgaar is obvious, it’s canon that he has music dyslexia. Murderface might be dyslexic too since he can’t spell too good and I think he might have adhd too probably. As for Pickles, I’m not sure. Some headcanons say that he has adhd too so probably.

i love a good HC. i really do, and as someone with autism it’s been my favorite thing to look at a character and be like mmm…autism radiates from you.

Nathan, Toki and Skwisgaar do that for me. Nathan is really obvious i feel, like it feels almost wrong for it to not be cannon. This goes into play with the ask i answered yesterday about Nathan not liking showers for sensory issues.

Tokis got the childhood neglect/abuse plus autism combo. I know he’s use to the cold because of his upbringing but it also could be related to how people with autism deal with some things differently (hot/cold tolerance.) The toy models are definitely one of his Interests, and Deddy bear being his Comfort item is just. i relate to that.

Skwisgaar. my beloved tall man. This man has such a complicated relationship with emotion. You know he cares about Toki, you can tell he does. But he absolutely hates showing emotion, it’s weird to him and he doesn’t understand why people need to explicitly be told he cares about them. Guitar is his Special Interest, and that’s one of the reasons why he’s a God at it. The music dyslexia also adds in here, the fact that he figures out a way to play music without ever reading it is really amazing to me.

Murderface i think definitely has ADHD, he’s got the same vibe as a younger sibling with ADHD up the ass. Constantly trying to get your attention and when you get overwhelmed he thinks you hate him (you really just need a moment of silence.)

Pickles! my beloved!! i think he’s got audhd. He’s got the good ol double whammy autism and adhd but never diagnosed. His drinking/drug use is a coping mechanism, he hates how his mind races and how he can’t get it to shut up unless he’s stoned or drunk. He’s got rituals, he does things a certain way and when those rituals get messed up it freaks him out. The one extra where he makes the rest of the band go into the closet for a little so he can have alone time. do i need to explain any more?? lmfao.

i love these men. i love projecting onto them.

[omegaworld]

Pirate Queen [Alpha Luffy x omega reader] - part 2 - final

Important to understand the context

Part 1, Part 2 - Final, Part 3 - Extra

Word count: 1286

___

(This starts when the fake straw hats are in Sabaody and just before the real ones show up)

Garp got the information that the straw hats were in Sabaody before everyone else, he doubted even Akainu knew already, it was a hard decision for him but he knew that if he didn't help her she would flee on her own.  

Y/n had anxiously arrived at the archipelago ignoring Garp's plan and beginning to search for Luffy. The bracelet signifying that she belonged to the navy caused many to turn away from the omega, those who didn't certainly regretted having judged her helpless.  

When she finally found "the straw hats" she couldn't help but growl, false. That was not her Luffy. The funny guy posing as her alpha still tried to approach her, it was sad how many alphas didn't even seem to look for their mate anymore. He was furious when she refused him, but he didn't have much time to barf before she hurled him towards the sea.  

These straw hats might not be the real thing, but they would certainly turn up, Y/n then decided to follow Garp's plan. When she finally found their ship it was protected by a gigantic man who spoke robotically. Surprisingly after looking at her for a moment he stepped aside and allowed her to enter the ship.  

Happy that everything worked out, she searches the ship for an empty barrel, puts the letter Garp had given her on the lid and then slips inside. Now all that was left was for them to arrive, something told her it wouldn't take long.  

___

Y/n wakes up as the barrel lands hard on the ground, among the smells one in particular tells him that Luffy is outside and his tail starts wagging involuntarily.  

'What is this Franky? It smells really good I bet it's meat!' Luffy asks starting to sniff the barrel with water in his mouth 'I don't know, but here. There's a letter for you and it says it's from your grandfather' Franky says handing him the letter that was on the lid of the barrel.  

'If anyone asks you kidnapped her you hear me? Don't bring me any more trouble you stink and do yourself a favor and enjoy what your dear grandpa gives you' short and simple.  

'Her?' Robin asks and Nami looks at her with the same question 'Her the meat' Luffy replies, everyone looks at him skeptically and before he can open the barrel Nami yells at him to stop. Everyone falls silent and a rhythmic noise can be heard inside the barrel 'S-is it a bomb?' Nami questions and both she and Chopper and Ussop walk away 'My grandfather wouldn't send me a bomb' Says Luffy still eager to open the barrel.  

Luffy turns back to the barrel, before he can do anything it is opened and from inside jumps a person. Y/n jumps out of the barrel and leaps at Luffy hugging him. Luffy is knocked to the ground wrapping his arms around Y/n's waist on instinct.  

As the whole crew looks shocked Y/n smiles with her tail wagging uncontrollably fast 'Hey' says Luffy as he looks at her 'You're not meat, but you smell a lot better than that' he laughs burying his nose in her neck to better smell her. She laughs back as the rubbing of his hair on her neck makes her itch. After a moment Luffy pulls away from her neck to look at her and adds 'And prettier' Y/n blushes terribly and with a silly smile hides in Luffy's chest as he laughs and sniffs her neck again, right where her scent gland is.  

Both were very oblivious to the stares of the crew who were beginning to realize what was going on. Only when Sanji shouts 'HOW CRUEL THE WORLD CAN BE! NOT ONLY DOES HE END UP ON WOMEN'S ISLAND, BUT HE ALSO FINDS HIS MATE'. Luffy looks confused at the crew and back to Y/n 'Mate?' Y/n smiles and waves to Luffy.  

___

After that scene the crew explains to Luffy that she was his predestined mate and that was why he liked how she smelled so much. They also explained about how Luffy could get stronger by having her by clarifying to him the dynamic of mates being each other's strength.  

Lastly they made it clear that Luffy should bite her to claim her as his and no other alpha should try to steal her. To which Luffy responded with a growl hugging tighter the omega he still hadn't let go of since leaving the barrel 'It's mine'.  

'We know Luffy but you have to mark it so everyone knows about it' Luffy thinks for a moment before turning to Y/n 'Then you also have to mark me shishishi so no one can try to steal from me'  

The idea of omegas marking alphas was relatively new and given how little information Luffy had on the subject the crew could guess that he genuinely thought of it as logical.  

___

The entire crew was amazed at how easily Y/n and Luffy fit together they always went together and even training Zoro could firm that they were a frighteningly powerful duo. Such power could be seen clearly in the battle of fish man island where Luffy and Y/n's huge black wolf caused terror.  

Luffy was still childish as always but there was a serious and caring side that was exclusively directed at Y/n. Chopper wanted to examine him the first time he wanted to share his food with her, but it quickly became a habit.  

Luffy rarely wanted to share the omega with anyone claiming it was 'his' and to tell you the truth the crew thought the scene was quite cute. Most of the time Luffy sat on Sunny's head with his chin resting on Y/n's head which rested against his chest. He loved the smell of her.  

Overall Luffy was a surprisingly good alpha, did she want fluffy things for the nest? A huge pile of blankets pillows and stuffed animals were in their room the next time she walked in. Did she want cuddles? Luffy was always there glued to her, from simply hugging her to tickling her or covering her from head to toe with his scent. Was she uncomfortable with any other alpha? Actually, it never came to that because even if he seemed distracted he made sure to send his gaze to any alpha who dared to look at his omega for more than he should.  

The funniest part was when her poster came up and the whole team found that just like in Luffy's the picture was not in the least bit scary. In fact, it was a picture of her laughing after Luffy had put his hat on her head something he quite liked to do as according to him it was easier to protect a treasure if it was all together. Sanji and Zoro were defeated that she had a 250million reward thus being larger than both of them.  

The most unexpected twist comes when one day Y/n gets very sick and the next day they could clearly hear her screaming Luffy's name. That day Franky and Sanji got in a huge jam with everyone because they were the ones who decided to explain to Luffy how to help her omega if she was in heat. It was a very awkward week and Franky promised to make the room soundproof for the captain. Now how to explain to Chopper that everything was fine with Luffy and his mate?  

___  

Luffy was happy to have Y/n by his side even though he had told Hancock he would not marry if it was Y/n he would be sure to make her his pirate queen.

[bluesberrys]

Part 2 of firecrackers backstory :3

I’m not the best at writing but if u have any tips/see grammar mistakes feel free to tell me :3

Tw- rape, illegal relation ship, underage sex, abuse

{idk what else but if you do think something is triggering and i should add it please tell me in the comments}

She took him to a corner near the police station and stopped, she crouched down next to him. “Hunny, i love you so much, we're gonna escape today and ill show you the real world, i know a place near the city, my friend can help us. But if this goes wrong i need you to have these '' she handed ??? a small map showing the village which was surrounded by forest, pretty far from the city but it could be made, there was a circle around an area in the forest, she also reached into her pocket and pulled out a small lighter and handed it to ???. “If something goes wrong I need you to run, I don’t care what happens, promise me you won’t look back” she looked into ??? Eyes, there was a sort of desperate look in it, like she knew something was gonna happen, like she just wanted to run and save herself but she couldn’t. She grabbed ??? hand and walked into the police station. She looked the officers in the eyes and said all Joshua had done, as if she had practiced this everyday of her life. The officers nodded and told her to come to the backroom to get her statement. ??? Sat in a chair waiting for his mom to come out but instead he heard the sound of a bang, one eerily close to the noise of a bullet. He saw specks of blood come from the door leading into the back on the floor and he felt a coldness in the air. He didn’t know why but he got up and ran, ran as fast as he could outside the police station. Tears welled up in his eyes, he heard shouting, he ran for a while but it was meaningless as he saw the figure of evil incarnate standing in the distance. Joshua stood there , hands crossed, a smug grin on his face. That was really all ??? Remember from that night, he just woke up the next day, it was around 2pm, far later than when he usually woke up, his mother woke him up at 10 usually but not any more... He left his room, and entered the living room, and then he saw something that made his stomach twist. A urns at upon the shelf in front the door that led outside, it was a deep red color, his mothers favorite color… a small post it note on it, it read “I think you know who this is, you dare think about escaping, know this will what become of you”. ??? felt tears escape his eyes, but he knew he had to escape, if his mother died than to let her life be wasted like this would be unforgivable. He waited for days for his dad to come home but he didn’t show up for weeks, though one day ??? Hearing a knock at his door , he opened it to see his so-called father. “I see you haven’t starved yet.” ???remained silent.

“OK LISTEN HERE YOU UNGREAFUL PEICE OF SHITt” Joshua slapped ???, hard enough to leave a red mark, a drastic change in demeanor though firecracker had grown to expect it. “YOUR THE REASON YOUR MOTHER DIED, IF YOU'D HAVE JUST STAYED BACK SHE WOULDN'T DIE” *this time Joshua punched him, the force was hard enough to knock ??? To the ground. The yelling and hitting continued on for a while. Though there was something about not being home for 3 days due to a church event, everything before and after that left ??? mind, it was a chance to escape. The following day he did everything his “dad” asked of him, being extra careful to not anger him. If he did there was a chance his dad might just stay home to beat him and that would foil his entire plan, no this had to be perfect. It came the night where his dad wasn’t home. He looked up at the urn holding his mothers ashes, he felt tears want to fall from his eyes, but he didn’t let them. Tears could make him break down, and breaking down was something he could not do, not when he was so close to freedom. He took the lighter him mom had given him as well as the map and opened the door to the outside. It had been a long while since he had been out but the air felt cool. But ?? Felt a sinking feeling, he felt like he was being watched. He immediately felt as hand wrapped around him trying to restrain him. His eyes turned to see a cop, not just any cop thought it was the one that had killed his mother. Immediately he felt a surge of anger and hit as hard as he could, he managed to knock the policeman off. “You really think your dad would just not leave any one back to watch you, you really must be stupid?” The policeman chuckled. He quickly got up and tried to get ?? Again. “Even if you de escape me you do realize there are more of us, we will stop you from leaving and soiling your fathers good name, do you even know how much the church pays us to do this?” Even if you go to the other end of the earth, your father could probably find you.” Thoes words made firecrackers heart sink, fuck, no matter what he did he would be caught. No, he had to escape, even if it meant he would have to fight his entire life for freedom he was gonna be free, firecracker immediately took out his lighter and set his house on fire, if he set one house on fir, it would surely spread, without the village and cult to praise Joshua he would be nothing. Right? The policeman continued to try and grab ???, but ??? kicked him hard once more, knocking him into the fire. He stared in horror at what he had done, but it was quickly overshadowed by shock as the house collapsed. Firecracker saw ashes in the air, it was hard to say if it was his mothers or if it was from the house, but he felt a whisper, as if his mother was telling him to run, to go and be free. So he quickly ran off into the forest, not daring to look back as he ran.

[taizi]

run, boy, run

chapter five

natsume yuujinchou pairing: one-sided kitanishi word count: 2k summary: Nishimura has a cursed mark on his arm, a crush on Natsume’s famous idol friend, and a whole lot of brand new problems that start and end with the taboo circle he found. full circle au

read on ao3

x

Satoru keeps looking over his shoulder at Hiiragi, just to make sure she’s still there.

“Watch where you’re walking or you’ll fall, Nishimura,” she says after the third backwards glance, voice low and monotone and still, somehow, entirely reassuring. She’s looking at him, talking to him, and he can hear her.

“No, I won’t,” Satoru argues cheerfully. Natori’s hand on his shoulder steers him around a crack in the pavement before he can prove himself wrong. And he’s still holding a sleeping Nyanko-sensei, so he definitely would have eaten dirt.

They’re south of town, much farther down the highway than Satoru ever has reason to go on his own. Matoba must have had his yokai chauffeur drive them for longer than Satoru realized. He’s pretty sure there’s a gas station nearby, and he thinks this is the road his old elementary school is on, but other than that he’s got nothing.  

Natori’s rental car is parked in a tiny lot outside a Western-style building with a rustic cottage vibe. Satoru expects to be sheparded into the car, but instead Natori leads the way up the brick steps and through the lattice-patterned front door.

The inside is cluttered and cozy, warmed by potted plants on every available surface. A smiling young woman behind the pastry counter encourages them to pick any table they’d like.

There’s an older couple seated in the back corner booth, and a grizzled man reading the paper in a squashy armchair shoved next to a bookshelf overrun with paperbacks and waving cats. Natori guides Satoru to a table by the window, points him into a chair, and then slides over the laminate menu. Satoru remembers, abruptly, that he skipped breakfast and missed lunch.

“Order whatever you like,” Natori says, sounding distracted. “I need to make a few calls. I will be right outside. Okay?”

“Do you want something?” Satoru asks. He settles Natsume’s cat in his lap, relieved when the lucky cat actually stirs a bit and grumbles before tucking himself into a comfortable-looking loaf and going back to sleep.

“No, but Hiiragi has a sweet tooth. Pick her out something with strawberries.”

The shiki makes a noise that could, by generous definition, be considered a scoff. Natori leaves, and the cheerful woman who greeted them by the door takes Satoru’s order for hamburger steak and an ice cream parfait with all the extras. She looks indulgent when he tacks on the dessert and he can’t exactly explain it’s for a ghost.

The ghost in question sinks into the chair across from him only after the employee has dropped off a glass of melon soda and gone again.

“Your friends were very scared for you,” Hiiragi says without preamble. “They’ll be relieved to know that you’re safe.”

Satoru’s heart makes a sudden glad leap. “You saw them?”

“I did. Natsume called Natori-dono this morning when you didn’t arrive at school on time. And your little bird warned them you weren’t safe. You were missed immediately.”

It seems like she’s making a point, and Satoru can’t say he knows why, but he’s grateful all the same. It’s good to know that the whole time he was in Matoba’s dubious clutches, rescue was imminent. It’s really, really good to know that Fish didn’t just fly away in a panic, she flew away to the rescue. 

“Do you know if they told anyone else?” Satoru thinks to ask after a moment.

“Just your brother,” the shiki replies. “Kitamoto informed Natori-dono that he had two hours to find you, after which time he would  also be telling his mother.” If she considers it strange that Satoru’s own mother wasn’t a part of the equation, she keeps it to herself. Yokai probably don’t have strong feelings on humans and their relationships with each other anyway. She does add, “It took Natori-dono an hour and a half. …He was stressed.”

“I bet.”

Kitamoto can be kind of intense. Sure, Natori deals with curses and ghosts and what have you, but that’s nothing on Acchan when he’s in a mood.

Natori doesn’t come back to the table until after Satoru has started eating. He orders a cup of coffee and seems content to sit there for an indeterminate amount of time. Even though he’s busy—living a double-life, with double the work—he makes pleasant conversation with Satoru and teases Hiiragi about her ice cream and does nothing to rush either of them out of the restaurant.

Digging the tines of his fork through the sauce left on his plate, Satoru carefully doesn’t look at anyone in particular when he says, “Um. I didn’t say earlier. Thanks.”

Natori doesn’t speak up right away, and the silence is excruciating, even though it’s only like two seconds long. Satoru rushes to fill it.

“For—you know. You didn’t have to. I know you don’t really—uh, I just meant, thank you.”

Please stop talking! he begs himself.

The coffee cup lands against its saucer with a solid click and Natori’s hand comes to rest on the table between them. Satoru catches the little dart of a lizard tail disappearing up his arm, beneath his sleeve. It’s distracting enough that he almost forgets to be mortified that Natori Shuuichi is giving him his undivided attention. Almost.

“You’re a good kid,” Natori finally says, sounding, somehow, as if he means it. “And you have nothing to thank me for.”

Nyanko-sensei wakes up for real in time to finish the rest of Satoru’s hamburger steak. Natori gives sensei a dirty look, but Satoru is so relieved that he lets him have the fried potatoes and broccoli florets, too.

———

Less than an hour later, Satoru is delivered to the temple doorstep like he’s a Lotteria burger and Natori-san is a very stylish, very single-minded Demae-Can driver.

At around two in the afternoon, anyone who might be happy to see Satoru turn up out of the blue is almost definitely still at school. Satoru is opening his mouth to explain as much when the door rattles open hard enough that it crashes into the wall, and half a dozen voices yell, “Nishimura!”

It's a little funny. The sudden chaos settles something jangly and jittery in his chest that the quiet ride back into town couldn’t. Natori’s hands on his shoulders propel him gently forward and Satoru is folded into the crowd. Nyanko-sensei is lifted from his arms. Kitamoto is there.

He looks paler than he should. His eyes are dry, but red-rimmed, and while he usually greets Natori with a glare for whatever reason, this time he doesn’t seem to see the man at all. He’s staring right at Satoru from the second the door opens. He yanks Satoru into a hug that feels like it could go on for years and years, warm and tight and safe.

For the first time since he left his house that morning, Satoru relaxes fully. He can’t move his arms enough to get them around Kitamoto in turn, so he clutches fistfuls of his best friend’s shirt and sinks against him. He could probably fall asleep standing up right there if they’d just give him about five minutes.

“Come in, please,” Tanuma is saying, his tone equal parts gentle and stressed out. “I’ll make tea.”

Natori helps shuffle the Kitamoto-and-Satoru package into the genkan. The door rattles closed, and Satoru floats through the motions of exchanging sneakers for house slippers, peeling out of his sweaty school jacket and pulling a hoodie over his head instead.

“I know for a fact that you should be in English right now,” is the first thing he says, to Natsume, who looks like he doesn’t know if he wants to hug Satoru or shake him like a terrier would a rat.

“If anyone should have been anywhere, ” Taki says, and lets the statement hang there ominously.

“Shibata will be here by dinner,” is what Natsume settles on saying. He has Nyanko-sensei nestled in one arm, petting him gently with the opposite hand. Sensei’s eyes are slitted, his purr a quiet, rumbly thing. “He’s getting on a train after school.”

“Ogata’s volleyball team is away at a tournament right now, but she’s going to be livid she missed all this when she checks the group chat,” Taki adds.

Tanuma returns to the crowded hall with a tray of tea and glasses, and since he looks like he’s seconds away from a nervous breakdown if he can’t host them properly, everyone finds a place in the living room to sit. There’s one too many cups on Tanuma’s tray, but after the day they’ve had, Satoru doesn't blame him for miscounting. 

Kitamoto doesn’t even pretend like he’s about to let Satoru go anytime in the immediate future, keeping an arm wrapped around him like it belongs there. Satoru, for his part, doesn’t pretend like that’s anything but a comfort. 

A clatter on the engawa is the only warning any of them get before a frantic magpie bursts inside, silent except for the noisy scrabbling of her talons against the floor, wings half-spread, beak ajar.

“There’s my best girl,” Satoru says brightly. “Fish, you’re a hero, you know that? Hiiragi told me what you did. They should write songs about you.”

“satoru,” she cries, hopping across the room with gusto. “the scary human took you.”

“That he did.” Satoru puts the cup down and offers his hands to his bird instead. “But thanks to you, he gave me back.”

With Fish nestled under his ear where she belongs, her warm, slightly oily feathers and rapid little heartbeat against his cheek both a touchstone, Satoru accepts the cup of tea that’s pressed into his hands. He opts to just hold it for a while, breathing in the fragrant steam, shaking off those last, clinging fingers of anxiety.

“Wait,” Taki blurts. “Hiiragi told you?”

Oh, yeah. “There’s been a new development,” Satoru tells the room at large. “I can see yokai without the circle now.”

For a beat, no one moves except to stare at him blankly. Then all heads swivel toward Natori, who only says, with feeling, “It has been a very long day.”

“And it’s only halfway over,” Hiiragi comments plainly. 

Since unpacking the yokai thing is going to be a conversation and a half, Satoru interjects quickly, “Before we get into all that, can we talk about how much trouble I’m in at school really fast?”

Natsume and Taki look too frustrated to speak for the moment, so Tanuma says, “You’re not in trouble, Nishimura. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Refusing to let Tanuma’s whole soft-spoken, gentle self get to him—he was kidnapped today and didn’t cry about it, he’s not going to cry just because his friend is being nice —Satoru replies, “Okay, we know that, but Nomiya-sensei doesn’t.”

“He does,” Tanuma insists.

It turns out that Satoru won’t have after-school suspension after all—because Kiyoshi, in a bizarre, uncharacteristic turn of events, covered for him.  

“Sorry, I forgot to let his homeroom teacher know this morning,” was his brother’s story. He had called the school and lied directly to the principal herself, according to an impressed Taki’s eyewitness account. “He has a stomach bug. Can one of his friends bring by his homework later?”

“We had to call Kiyoshi-niisan when you didn’t show up,” Kitamoto says doggedly. It’s the first thing he’s said since Satoru got here. “I didn’t tell him everything, but I had to tell him something.”

Fish tugs on a piece of his hair with her beak. Satoru leans his head on Kitamoto’s shoulder.

“Acchan knows best,” Satoru says, because that was true even when it wasn’t. Of course, this meant that Satoru owed Kiyoshi the truth, whether he was ready to have that conversation or not, but at worst, he would just think Satoru and his friends were crazy. And he kind of already thought that, so no harm done. “At least that’s future-me’s problem,” he goes on, smiling around at his friends. “He’s taking a mock entrance exam for Kyushu University today, up in Fukuoka. That’ll keep him busy and give me time to spin a story.”

They frown back at him. Even Natori looks over, a crease in his brow.

“You think he still went to Fukuoka?” Taki says slowly.

“Nishimura, you were missing, ” Natsume adds, bemused. “Someone took you right off the street.”

“It sounds bad when you say it that way.” Satoru can feel the twinge in his arm that means the cursed bruises are coming back. His heart rate picks up a little, too, for good measure. “But it’s his mock exam. Mom’s been hounding him about this school for ages. He wouldn’t do anything to mess this one up.”

He wouldn’t let me mess this up for him, is what Satoru doesn’t say out loud. He digs his fingers into the overlarge hoodie he’s wearing, twisting the cuffs all out of shape.

Natsume glances at Natori quickly, concerned. The man sets his tea aside and stands up, moving around the table and then settling tailor-style in front of Satoru and Kitamoto. 

“I think there is a reason your brother studies so hard,” Natori says. “And I think it has very little to do with your mother.” 

“You haven’t met my mom,” Satoru says. It makes Natori crack a smile. 

“I haven’t had the pleasure. But Kiyoshi told me plenty. And while you might think he’s doing everything he can to please her, from where I’m standing, it looks a lot more like he’s doing his best to spite her.”

Natori Shuuichi spoke to Satoru’s brother. They talked about personal stuff. Satoru wants to bury himself under a rock. 

It doesn’t sound like Kiyoshi at all to trash-talk mom in any capacity. He’s her shining up-and-coming med student, bringing home perfect scores and skipping weekend trips and holidays to study. She doesn’t really care about Satoru, but she loves Kiyoshi. He has no reason not to love her back. 

But if his friends are to be believed—and of course they are—then Kiyoshi covered for him today, even without understanding what, exactly, he was covering for. Why would he do that?

Footsteps from further in the temple draw nearer, along with a voice that Satoru would know anywhere. He whips around, spilling tea over his fingers, because that’s his brother’s pissed-off tone, here, in Tanuma’s house, where Satoru and his friends and Natori and the ghosts all are. 

As he gets closer, his words get clearer, until Satoru can make out, “…my problem, remember? Not yours. Please don’t trouble yourself.”

“Nii-san has always had the best timing,” Kitamoto mutters. 

“Kyushu was a compromise, ” Kiyoshi is saying, his voice making it easy to trace his progress down the engawa. “Fukuoka is three hours away, I didn’t want to go to school there in the first place. Kumamoto University is much closer, and it’s a good school. My friends are applying there, too. It’s where I want to go.”

Fish is poking insistently at Satoru’s ear and chin, so he lifts his hands mechanically and moves her down into his lap instead. She busies herself with snapping at the drawstring of his hoodie instead, unbothered by the force of nature headed their way. 

“Um, so he knows some stuff,” Satoru hears himself say weakly. “How much exactly is that?”

“Enough,” Kitamoto says, which explains nothing. 

The porch doors rattle the rest of the way open from where they were cracked, presumably to let nosy spirit birds in and out, and Kiyoshi stands there backlit by afternoon sunlight. It’s impossible to make out his expression. Satoru thinks he’s more nervous now than he was with Matoba. 

“Bye, mom,” Kiyoshi says, and hangs up without waiting for a reply. 

“You wanted to go to Fukuoka,” Satoru blurts before anyone can say anything else. “You made me memorize the train line.”

“That was just in case, brat,” Kiyoshi replies, crossing the room in long strides. Natori moves and Kiyoshi takes his place, looking over first Satoru, then Kitamoto carefully. “I was probably going to throw the mock exam anyway. I was just going today to make mom happy. I’ve been accepted at Kumamoto Uni already. An hour-long commute will be annoying, but it’s better than the alternative. Heaven only knows the kind of trouble you’d get into on your own.” 

“And us,” Taki pipes up. “We know.”

“Right,” Kiyoshi says, sitting back. His expression is no-nonsense, gaze level and boring into Satoru’s. “And now me. Start talking, or I’ll make your life miserable.”

Now that, Satoru thinks, is the first believable thing anyone has said all day.

[luimagines]

You Fluster Him Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

Part two will include Legend, Twilight and Sky.

Content under the cut!

Legend

You were going to try something.

Something that might get you yelled at. But if things went the way you wanted them to then it would have been worth the risk.

That being said, it had to planed accordingly and you had to wait the perfect of circumstances. You walked next to Legend today.

Now he wasn’t always one for conversation. That was fine. If you had to be honest with yourself, none of the Link’s were. They all seemed to reach this mindset when you were walking that if someone made a noise, the whole world would explode.

Which... is a bit dramatic but if you were to even ask one of them a question all you would typically get is a nod, a shake of their head, or they would point to something. It’s like they suddenly couldn’t speak. You didn’t understand it but you weren’t going to breach onto their seemingly unintentionally well coordinated marching pattern.

You walked around, a bit lost in your thoughts.

How were you going to do this?

It could be quiet. You could say something. There weren’t many people around. Maybe you would get him to give you a straight answer.

You trip.

Ok, maybe you should watch where you put your feet.

You hiss and pull your knees up. You have a cut and your pants tore in the impact zone.

“Crap.” You poke and tug a bit on the cloth. “These were my favorite too..”

You sigh and brush off the dirt and sand from your pants and hands. It was a matter of time, you think. They were old anyway. It was bound to happen eventually.

Legend drops down next to you and inspects the damage. He also pulls a bit on the fabric and looks at the torn skin beneath. You’re bleeding and he hisses with you.

“I’m alright.” You tell him and move to stand. “It’ll heal with time. Let’s go.”

Legend pulls you back and keeps you from going.

You look back at him and think, this is my chance.

You smile at him as charmingly as you can and move back toward him. “I get that you’re concerned but really, I’m fine. But it’s cute that you care so much.”

You blow him a kiss and turn to leave again.

You don’t see it but Legend’s face explodes into color. He coughs into his sleeve and looks down onto his hands and shoes. Slowly, he unsticks his feet to follow you.

You look back and grin. “Oh... you match your tunic.”

Legend trips on his own feet this time- there is no tree root to blame and you to catch him.

You think that there might be another comment you can make here, but you don’t actually want to do any damage. No need to add insult to injury.

You poke his nose though and Legend can’t meet your eyes. “Cute.”

Twilight

You had a habit of being affectionate with your friends.

It wasn’t too much, at least that’s you told yourself. It was an extra hug, ruffling hair, playing with hair, hand holding or a kiss on the cheek. Nothing major.

But one thing that surprised you was how little you knew were doing it. It was something that came naturally to you. You had no idea if any of them would have had a problem with it since none of them said anything.

And then there was Twilight. Who almost seemed to avoid it.

Because of this, you backed off. If he was uncomfortable with it then you weren’t going to burst his bubble for your own sake. That wouldn’t be fair.

Until one day you forgot yourself.

Twilight had helped you with getting something heavy from the top shelf of the inn. Warrior had put it up there and Wild had asked you to get it down. It was as if the starts aligned to humble you. 

Twilight saw your plight and took mercy on your before you got on the only old rickety chair in the room and broke your neck when it snapped under the pressure of duty and your weight.

He got it down by just going on his tip toes and he didn’t even break a sweat.

So unfair.

 You huff and wipe the bit of sweat off of your forehead and smile, trying to mask your bitterness. “Thank you Twilight.” 

“Anytime.” He smiles back.

You feel the need to give the affection again but you hold it down and focus on rearranging the pack in your hands so that you don’t drop it. “I’ll get this to Wild then.”

“Wait-” Twilight blurts and you pause. He seems frightened by his own admission and you take mercy on him.

“Did you say something?”

“I....” Twilight starts, effectively starting to dig his own grave. “Well... you always thanks the others differently.”

You pause again and your safe softens. “What about it? I thought you didn’t want  me too.”

Twilight’s words get stuck in his throat. You can hear it. You wait patiently for him to either get them unstuck or for him to find another way to communicate. To your delight, he doesn’t give up. He shakes his head at your words and instead points to his cheek.

A bright blush covering his features.

You laugh and kiss his cheek. “Better?”

Somehow, his blush gets deeper and he giggles like a fool as he nods.

His childlike joy is contagious and you find yourself grinning along with him. “Good.”

Twilight hides his face behind his hand but he gives you a thumbs up. His reacts are contradictory but he gave you the ok, and seems happy with it even if he can longer look you in the face.

What a silly boy. You shake your head and leave.

Little did you know that Wolfie would be particularly needy for pets and kisses later.

Sky

If you wanted to fluster Sky, it was as if you had to run a marathon with your wits.

He was never in a mindset where you could take him off guard and he wasn’t about to let you run his patients dry. If anything it seemed as if he had infinite patience. There was nothing you could do to get past his mask.

If he wore one anyway. Sky always seemed to be in a amused state whenever you tried to catch him off guard. You thought you would never see the day where he was flustered.

Until you got paired up to take down the newest dungeons.

Now, you were familiar with the concept of dungeons but you had never had to do one yourself. You considered yourself one of the lucky ones of the group in that sense.

Sky seemed to know what he was doing, which was nice.

The path in the dungeon you were taking went by like a breeze. Sky had taken to solving most of the puzzles while you had his back and took care of the monsters.

But the path was taking too long and despite the breaks you had to take for Sky’s sake, you were getting tired.

There were too many monsters and too many puzzles. You don’t know how long it’s been or what time it is but your body was reaching it’s limit and the limit was close enough where you were falling asleep as you stood.

“Sky... We need to sleep.” You yawn. “We can’t keep going like this. I’m dead on my feet.”

Sky slumps against the wall and takes in a breath. “Oh thank Hylia you said something. I wasn’t going to but I’m so tired.”

You laugh and move to sit next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “I would have thought you were have said something first..”

“Rude.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No.” Sky leans against you.

You follow suit and you’re both out within seconds.

Waking up was easy. It was warm, safe, calm. There was added weight that kept you relaxed even though were you in the bellows of the dungeon. You yawned and stretched and the the weight moved.

You froze and waited. Your eyes opened and you looked down at what could possibly be the cause of the weight on your chest.

It was Sky- who seemed completely content to be face down into your body.

You poked his head. No response.

Knowing from first hand experience how difficult it could be to wake the Chosen Hero, you succumb to your fate of simply waiting for him to wake up. Somehow, you fall asleep again

Then Sky wakes up and he scrambles off of you. It’s enough to startle you back awake and you look at him with a soft but still tired look. “Good morning, sleep well?”

Sky’s face goes completely red as he fails to be able to look you in the eye. “Sorry... sorry, sorry..... uhhhh yes. Good Morning! Did... did you sleep well?”

“I slept very well.” You sit up and smile. “I had a very warm blanket.”

Sky looks away from you and his face darkens. “...Right.”

You laugh. Not what you thought would break him, but it was worth it.

Part 3

[sleepycyborgz]

Rick and Giovanni breaking into a terrorist organisation to fix their Yugiho cards. That’s it thats the fic. Enjoy me trying to be funny <3

Ao3 link:

—-

Rick followed the black string coming out of his heart with a bounce in each step. He and Giovanni were both planning to meet up at the arcade since Crusher’s mum got sick of cleaning up the mess they both left every Friday. They both had this system set up for a while now. Every Friday, Rick would come over to headquarters to do stuff since he usually couldn’t join in many evil schemes due to working for S.T.E.M now. He loved working there absolutely but it was nice to take a break and “hang out” with people who were definitely his friends. Whereas with his work friends, he was only like 70% sure they actually liked him. (At least the strings were still there though.)

Last week, Giovanni had brought a pack of these strange-looking cards. They reminded Rick of the Tarot cards he used to have as a kid but these had a bunch of writing underneath the picture. Giovanni called them “Yu-gi-oh” cards. Rick originally thought they were just like tarot and tried to give Giovanni a reading but he was quickly stopped after telling Gio that all he needs to do to succeed in life was to draw three cards from his deck and add them to his hand.

Giovanni explained that the cards weren't for reading fortunes but were actually for a game. Apparently, all you had to do was use these cards to fight against your opponent to bring their hit points down to 0. Rick played a few games against Giovanni most of which he lost but he was just happy to hang out with a friend at all really. Giovanni said it was fun too and that he actually wanted to play again next Friday. Rick had gotten really excited over this and looked up a bunch of guides when he got home and he even bought a starter pack and some extra spare packs with some of the money Naven lent him. Naven specifically told Rick that the money was for important things like buying food and paying rent and Rick was pretty sure buying Yu-gi-oh cards would also be included on the list! Keeping up friendships was pretty important after all.

Rick had the starter pack and extra cards carefully stored in a small backpack that Phoenicia had gotten him. It was pastel blue and purple with white glimmers and little starfish stitched onto it. Phoenicia had also given him a little sheep charm she made with those crocheting kits with 10 different designs to choose from. Trixie and Molly also got him a crow and bear respectively which they both made using the same kit after Feenie begged them both to help her make them. Rick absolutely adored the bag and took it everywhere, even if it got some weird looks from strangers.

Which made tripping over nothing and dropping the bag in a puddle all the more devastating.

Rick shuffled over to the bag in a panic, barely even feeling the impact of the fall over the adrenaline. The bottom of the bag was now soaking wet, covered in little bits of concrete and whatever else would be on a city footpath. But even that was nothing compared to the terror of seeing the bag’s zipper wide open and the cards Rick had just bought being scattered across the floor.

Rick scrambled over to each card and picked them all up carefully so they wouldn’t get any more damage. Thankfully most of the cards were unharmed. The worst damage Rick could spot was a bit of scratching on the back but not too bad!

Then Rick turned around and saw it. His blue eyes white dragon, the card that Giovanni told him was the most valuable card you could get. One he had managed to pull from a random packet and screamed so loud out of his excitement over it his neighbours filed a noise complaint. Sitting face up in a puddle, soaking wet.

Rick sat right next to the puddle, staring at it with a glossy look in his eyes. Before breaking out into a full-body sob. Morning over the card he’d gotten yesterday like he was standing over a beloved pet’s grave.

“Woah dude, are you alright?” Rick looked up, tears still clinging to his cheeks, only to see the same evil boss that he’d bought the cards for, holding two cups of a strange drink with black pearls floating at the bottom. Rick tried to apologise for dropping the cards he just ruined but whatever came out of his mouth was completely incomprehensible. Giovanni looked around and saw the pastel backpack now covered in dirt, gravel, and everything else gross you can find on a city footpath.

“Hey man, it’s alright.” Giovanni squatted down to match Rick’s eye level, a gentle smile on his face. “We can get that bag cleaned no problem, no need to get so worked up over it! I think my uncles have this detergent that can clean pretty much anything so I can just ask him to help with that if we can’t do it.” Rick swallowed the tears clogging the back of his throat and finally managed to form a clear sentence.

“That’s not it.” The wizard said, his voice still wavering.

“Huh?”

Rick pointed over to the card in the puddle. Giovanni stared at it for a moment, before grabbing Rick by the scarf and shaking him so fast Rick’s sunglasses nearly fell off his face.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU PUT IT IN A SLEEVE?!” Giovanni yelled with tears in his eyes.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS!” Rick yelled back just as loud with just as many tears.

Giovanni let go of Rick and dropped to his hands and knees over the puddle. “It’s too late to save it now…” He said like a video game war general during the darkest hour. “It’s gone…” Rick joined him. The two men cried over that puddle in silence over the body of their most prized possession that lasted like a week. The people walking past just squeezed past the two somehow legal adults sobbing over a Yugioh card.

“WAIT A MOMENT!” Rick yelled, Giovanni looked up at him with tears still in his eyes. “I know a colleague who has an epithet who can reverse time. I’m not exactly friends with her yet however, we might be able to convince her to save this strange tarot card!”

Giovanni’s eyes sparkled with hope as he carefully grabbed the card and stood up, taking a dramatic pose that he’d definitely practised in the mirror that morning but Rick looked at him like he just saved his life regardless. “Then let’s go find her!”

—

“Zora,” Static rang out from the speakers above the table, the voice underneath it calm and controlled. “I believe that we should try a less direct approach with collecting the arsene amulet. So I am instructing Yoomtah to lead the search for the amulet instead.”

“WHAT!? THAT’S BULLSHIT!” The cowgirl yelled, slamming her fist into the table. The electric gremlin giggled beside her.

“Thank you boss~” Yoomtah said in a sing-song tone, subtly sticking her tongue out at Zora when their shadowy leader wasn’t looking. Which only made the cowgirl’s rage rise further. Moot stared at both of them under her hood, ready to grab Zora if the energetic cyborg pushed one too many of her buttons. A tired sigh rattled the speakers.

“I apologise Zora but your skillset just isn’t needed for this plan.”

“Wait, plan?”

The shadow nodded its head. Despite the lack of pupils, it had everyone could feel the leader’s eyes on them. Their gaze pierced each of their souls and revealed every part of them. Zora and Moot both shuffled a bit meanwhile Yoomtah stayed perfectly still, staring at the screen with eyes full of admiration.

“We should try and approach this from a different angle. Moot,” The hooded figure lifted her head. “After Yoomtah finds the location of the amulet, you will go collect it. Try not to kill as many people as last time, we don’t want to cause a scene.” The figure contemplated for a moment, before nodding.

“Alright, good. Yoomtah, I have a couple of locations for you to scout out where the amulet might be, first is the Sweet Jazz police department, since that’s who Zora said grabbed it.” Zora grumbled something about how the two people she met in redwood run cheated somehow. “If we’re lucky, it will be there and we can get in and collect the amulet before anyone even knows we took it-

SLAM!

A loud bang swept through the massive meeting room. Zora screamed “HOLY FUCK!” at the top of her lungs and aimed her gun right at the door. Moot jumped a bit before her head swooped around towards the noise. Yoomtah just casually tilted her head towards it. They didn’t know who to expect at the door but it definitely wasn’t two young men with brightly coloured hair and tear marks running down their faces.

“Oh hey, Rick!” Yoomtah chirped, the others stared at her. “Oh, yea! I kinda gave him the keys to the building in case he wanted to hang out with us!”

“Why did you do that…” Moot asked, disappointment clear in her tone that somehow flew completely over the cyborg’s head.

“Cause these meetings get BOR-RING! And Rick’s always fun to be around! He kinda doesn’t know anything so making him eat inedible stuff is funny. No idea who the other guy is though.” Yoomtah giggled, kicking her legs under the table as she explained.

“Do you realise how dangerous that is? If he heard half what we were talking about then we’d have to kill both of them.”

“Well in that case we’ve heard absolutely nothing!” Rick chimed in, an unsettlingly wide smile stretched across his face. “We didn’t come here to spy on any conversations anyway. We came because we have a favour to ask Zora over there.” Zora leaned back in her chair, eyeing the strange man. Welp, as long as taking this job pissed Moot off then it was worth it.

“...Well I’m not exactly busy right now since someone took my job. Who d’you want me to track down?” Despite this guy’s… frankly creepy demeanour, he didn’t seem like the type of person who’d hire a bounty hunter. Maybe he wanted revenge on the person who fired him from his job. He definitely looked homeless so it seemed like the most likely option. She probably wouldn’t get too much cash off the weirdo but she was sure that her prey probably had enough funds to cover him plenty.

“...Huh?” Rick tilted his head like a confused dog. “What do you mean by that?” Zora stared at the man with very unsubtle judgement. Was this guy serious? How do you walk up to a terrorist hideout, somehow make it past all the security, ask the contract killer for a favour, and not know that she murdered people for her job?! “We aren’t trying to find someone. We’re actually trying to fix something.’ Before Zora could ask what he meant by that, the pink-haired boy jumped out from behind Rick and scrounged around in man purse before pulling out a piece of wet cardboard.

“Please fix our blue eyes white dragon. It fell into a puddle on the way to my house and I wanna show Rick how to play.” The teenager begged on his knees in front of the cowboy. She stared at the card before breaking out into a hysterical laugh.

“Are you serious!?”

Giovanni looked up at her with determination is his eyes. “Very.”

“Hmm, alright! I like you two weirdos enough. However, it’s gonna cost ya.” The two young men stared at her wide-eyed before looking at each other. The pink-haired one scrambled off the floor and ran to Rick before they both whispered frantically at each other. Zora managed to pick up the name Giovanni which she assumed was the pink-haired one’s name. Rick dug through his wallet but he didn’t seem to have much cash on him. Based on the cringe from Giovanni when Rick asked him for cash, he didn’t have much either. Giovanni turned towards the table with a lot less confidence than before.

“I, uhh,” he stumbled, “Oh! My animal crossing town has really good turnip prices right now! Almost six hundred bells. We could trade you that!” Giovanni said like Zora understood a single word he just said. How the hell does this guy own a whole town? And why would she sell him turnips in exchange for bells? Why does he want that many turnips?! Zora paused before letting out a long sigh, a smirk appearing on her face.

“Look kid, you’ve got a big heart but I’m gonna have to decli-“ Zora was cut off when she felt a white glove grab her scarf and quickly pull her away from her ‘clients’.

“Listen,” Yoomtah started, her voice way more serious than Zora was used to. “I’ve got at least 500 turnips I gotta sell stat. If you turn this down, I will not hesitate to snap your spine and use it as a back scratcher~” Yoomtah sang despite the threat. Zora looked at the two goobers then looked back at the gremlin that just threatened to kill her.

“Fine, fine. I’ll fix it for ya. But only if you hand over those bells for… turnips. Seriously Yoomtah, why do you have so many of those?.” The two men’s eyes sparkled with pure joy.

“Thank you Zora! We don’t know what we would’ve done without you!” Rick shook Zora’s hand so hard she nearly fell over. Giovanni reached his hand into his purse and pulled out his switch absolutely covered in stickers, most of which appeared to have the same brand of ‘cool’ as a back-to-school lunchbox. Yoomtah pulled out her own switch which was also covered in stickers, these ones being mostly cute mascots with the most unhinged text possible underneath them. As they exchanged friend codes, Zora used her years of training and hard work to repair the drenched Yugioh card. Rick stared in awe as any damage the card has taken was reversed in the blink of an eye.

“Thank you, you just saved our whole Friday,” Rick said again. Zora waved her hand at the homeless-looking man.

“Yea yea don’t mention it… actually never mention it, ever.” Zora smiled at him with enough hidden annoyance that it might as well of be written all over her face. Rick was apparently illiterate though and politely returned her creepy smile with one of his own.

“Anddd~ done!” Yoomtah popped up from her hunched-over pose over the switch. Giovanni closed the game and headed over to Rick with a smile. Making wild gestures with his hands as he talked about how cool his work friends' switch was. They both waved goodbye as they opened the door to leave.

“HEY RICK! WANNA GO GET FOOD TOMORROW?!” Yoomtah shouted just before Giovanni could close it. “I KNOW A GOOD SEAFOOD PLACE!”

“Yes, I would love to join you! Thank you Yoomtah!” Rick shouted just as loud. And with that, the door was closed. Everyone in the room other than the tiny electric woman still trying to process what the hell just happened.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe ya just gave some RANDOM GUY the keys to the building! He could’ve just outed the entirety of Bliss Ocean damn it! Do ya realise how many cops we’d have to get rid of?”

“He’s not random though. He’s my friend there’s a difference.” Yoomtah smiled with her tongue sticking out. The two went back and forth, Zora giving Yoomtah a perfectly reasonable reason to be upset, and Yoomtah basically responding with ‘Lol stay mad’. The hooded figure with glasses let out an annoyed huff at the lack of professionalism.

“Sir, should we go after them? They present a massive risk to our operation.” She asked, trying to ignore Zora and Yoomtah’s bickering.

The boss let out a static-filled sigh. “Don’t worry, I just so happen to know these young men. They’re rather sweet but more importantly harmless. They don’t pose a threat to our plan.”

—

From outside the door, both an official and unofficial weenie talked about whatever came to mind as they walked through the terrorist organisation's halls.

“And then, just as the boyfriend thought he was going to kill her, the wind took the disguise away and revealed it was actually Len!” Giovanni blabbered about this one music video he’d seen, Rick listening intently to every word. They both walked out the front door and eventually made it to home base. Both played the card game at least thirty times and watched the rest of season one of the anime before passing out on the couch. Their dumb smiles still carrying over in their sleep.

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Familiar Faces - Accepting and researching past lives, Part 1

Summary: Elijah Gilbert has been haunted by dreams of other lives as long as he remembers, but now with the appearance of the Salvatore brother he may finally get some answers.

AN. note to self 'better time management', finish today's chapter before working on tiny Sailor mars costume. also picking a title is hard.

-----

Three days.

His episode lasted two days, it was the worst one he had had in years, a reminder of why he was very sure they would end him one day, how they had in the past.

He had spent another day pretty much bed bound to prevent any injuries from falling as the shock of it had left him shaky and unsteady, one broken collar bone was enough for him to learn not to push himself. 

In the aftermath Aunt Jenna had started hovering in the way mom and dad used to in his earliest memories.

It was easy to explain why it was so bad, at least, five months without one had caused it to hit him in surprise, leaving him twice as tired afterwards.

He had spent the last night, while free of the headache still trying to shake off the chill once again thankful his room was soundproofed as with Aunt Jenna out with the slimeball, Jeremy had arranged for Stefan to make Elena a dinner while he was with Vicki upstairs.

That wasn’t a helpful reminder of how he failed to live up to normal surrounded by his family doing just that.

---

The next morning he couldn't help but glare at his hand as it shook holding his mug.

Kit was eating her extra breakfast on the floor, since she had skipped most her meals while he was out of it, while Luci was rubbing his head against his chest purring loud enough it filled the kitchen.

He had offered to put him away if the noise bothered Aunt Jenna where she was working at the counter, but she had just told him she was glad the little hellspawn was trying to help.

Elijah had his missed school work spread over the table, school had always seemed easy, languages and history came to him with ease and he had spent most of the aftermaths from his early episodes reading his parent’s medical books.

Most of his work was spent trying to hide how easy it was, placing simple mistakes and larger errors, things he had been doing since the first time there was talk of him skipping a grade. 

“You can go back to school tomorrow.” Aunt Jenna told him as she noticed his glare, he looked up to smile until she continued “although considering your making mistakes on purpose, do you really need it?”

“What?” he asked, embarrassed to find his voice cracking, “what are you talking about?”

“I’ve always known you were gifted, your mum and dad couldn’t stop bragging the first time they were asked if they wanted to skip a grade,” she told him fondness and pain at the mention of his parents but her eyes were sharp when they met his “but i’ve been watching, today, you fill out your work quickly and easily without looking at the notes for them then go back to add mistakes.”

“I didn’t want to be split up from Elena.” he offered the excused before she could ask, however she was persistence

“Now you don’t share any classes with her.” she said with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s what people my age do, I want to be normal.” he shrugged.

“Where do you think you should be, for the work to challenge you?” she asked

“I don’t-” he started, a mild panic he hadn’t felt since the first time he had overheard the teacher telling his parents he would be better off in the year ahead.

“I’m not going to push you, I'm just curious.” she smiled to reassure him, he thought for a moment.

“University.” He admitted, “I read ahead and the rest of the high school syllabus isn’t any more difficult than this.” he nodded to the work in front of him.

“And you're fine doing easy work for the next year and a half.” she asked, slight concern colouring her words “not bored out of your mind.”

“I’ve been doing it for years,” he said smiling back at her as he felt himself relax, “why quit so close to the end, this way i can stay with Elena and the others, i won’t end up being looked at as the youngest in every class and it’s not completely boring, i enjoy seeing just what it takes for the teachers to start noticing.”

“I guess I don't need to worry about you falling behind.” she laughed a little to herself, he felt his smile fade as he noticed her relax as well.

“I’m sorry that I gave you enough to worry about.” he apologised 

“It’s fine,” she promised, “Elijah you aren’t to blame for your health, things just happen.”

His parents had said the same things, doesn’t mean he didn’t haunt him that the last time he had seen them they were worried, that if he hadn’t had an episode he would have been at the party, could have stopped the argument between Elena and Matt or distracted her so she wouldn’t have needed to call them.

He took a deep breath as he felt a heavyweight return to his heart and turns back to his school work. 

“Hey, what do you plan to do after school?” she asked not long after, he blinked, “as a career.”

“Medical, I want to help people, like dad.” The words came out quickly, he looked back down at his school work to avoid seeing aunt Jenna’s reaction, everyone had always told him he took after his mom more, but he had idealised his dad.

It was something he had wanted since he first learned what dad had done. Over the years he shifted into psychology, if only to understand his own issues and cover them more.

But it was still true, he wanted to help people, and he could do the work, he just had to live past twenty, which his dreams had made clear may be harder than it seemed.

He looked up at the sound of a sniff, and watched with wide eyes as she got up from her work, made her way to him and wrapped him in a hug.

She was warm and it chased away the last of the chill.

“You’re a great kid and they would have been so proud to see you-” whatever else she was going to say was lost as her voice broke and he hugged back, they stayed like that for a moment before she let go and went back to her research.

They settled into a comfortable silence after that, until Elena came down and the pair left for the car wash, leaving him alone downstairs and Jeremy upstairs with Vicki.

He sat in the silence for a moment after he finished and packed away his work before making a decision. 

He wanted a future and he needed to know his past before he could truly work for that.

He couldn’t keep denying it. 

Pretended it wasn’t real hadn’t got him anywhere, this life or the ones before.

He was a Salvatore once, likely twice, he needed to see if it was more than those times, find evidence of the other lives and maybe find the cause of why he remembered them and even why he had these episodes. 

To stop them, to stop worrying his family.

Hopefully they were all at the car wash and he could break in or at least Stefan and Damon would be out and he just has to deal with Zach.

He had had years to work dealing with his cousin, he at least didn’t look exactly the way he did in his memories.

His memories of the last time he had Zach were when he was a teen.

---

“Hi Zach.” Elijah greets as soon as the man opens the door, his bookbag heavy with all his notes of his dream selves, or past selves.

“Elijah, what are you doing here?” the man asks, looking around in concern.

“I want to see your records.” he replied with a disarming smile eyeing the way Zach hand still gripped the door, clearly wanting to shut it.

“Why?” Zach again asked this time casting a worried look back into the house, 

“Extra credit family report,” he lied obviously and used Zach’s confusion to slip past the man and into the house.

“Look i’m sorry Elijah but now isn’t the-” Zach started as he caught up to Elijah in the house after shutting the door.

“It’s fine, it's not like I need you to show me around, right Z?” he smirked, almost begging the man to reveal something, it would be a lot easier on Elijah if someone else already had an idea of what was wrong with him.

“What do you want?” Zach sighed,

“Answers.” he told the man, when Zach didn’t moved just looking at Elijah with an unreadable expression, he nodded and walked away from him towards the library “I’ll find them myself.” he called back.

----

It wasn’t until he got to the library and stared at the collection of books that he realised he was searching for a needle in a haystack, still he quickly made his way to the section he remember where the families journals were kept, and instead of looking for the ones from over a century ago, he looked for the ones just over thirty years before, he found what or whose he was looking for.

His uncle-Zach’s father’s journal, first he had to find the right year, then he began

searching though the dates for the time around his last birth, hoping to find something that could be linked to witchcraft or some kind of supernatural event.

What he did find was that the man he thought was his father in his last life died about ten months before his birth.

He remembered the date, as he served Mr de Martel drinks as he had a guest that stared at him with the same fascination Mr de Martel did.

‘Surely one night can’t hurt, Tristan.’ Mr Castle laughed.

He skipped ahead to his birth to find the answers he hadn’t even been looking for.

The baby was born too late to be my brother’s, it’s likely he’s the result of our poorly thought out moment of grief.

“I’m a bastard.” Elijah muttered to himself, he could feel a burst of bitter amusement that made him want to laugh, an inside joke that he wasn’t aware of the punchline.  “Why do I find that funny?”

He shook it off and continued, 

She named him after Giuseppe’s youngest son with his wife, she tells me it came to her in a dream. I can only hope he fares better than his namesake.

I won’t let my son be buried in an unmarked grave forgotten and unmourned. 

He ignored the grave comment as he did whenever his mind wandered to wonder what happened to his old bodies and focused on the piece before.

‘she tells me it came to her in a dream.’

Once Elena had asked where their names had come from, mom had told him the same.

‘It was a dream, sweetie.’

It seemed he wasn't the only one getting dreams.

He was adding that to his notebook when he heard a scream and footsteps and decided to follow it.

He left the library and made it in time to see Caroline vanish out the door, running like she expected something to be chasing her.

Elijah remembers that panic and fear so well he could almost smell it, Tatia- NO!

Instead the house was almost silent, until he caught the sound of faint muttering and followed it downstairs to the door that led to the cellar.

He froze at the door.

EJ, before he was EJ, when he was little Elijah the orphan raised by his uncle, used to be too scared to go down, would plead for Zach to hold his hand.

Elijah took a breath and forced himself to move, EJ was a life ago, Elijah was different. Beside as he made out one of the voices Zach was already down there.

---

(AN-Zach throughout the entire talk with Elijah praying Stefan would return and remove Elijah and hyper aware that Damon is staving downstairs, so he doesn't really get to take what Elijah's saying in.)

[faeriecap]

Ask No Omen

“Without a sign, his sword the brave man draws, and asks no omen, but his country's cause. ”

Sam blinks and elderly Steve seems to have merged into thin air. He stares at the vacant space beside him on the bench, knuckles clenched around the edges of the heavy case. Its circular shape is familiar, and yet entirely alien to him. He stays that way for a minute, ten minutes, maybe. Bucky, probably still gazing forlornly at the platform, or the bench, doesn’t approach. Banner mutters under his breath about five minutes, just five and pushes every button on the keypad with furious fingers.

Silence falls amongst the group, save for the quiet sound of Bucky trying and failing to privately cry. He said he was gonna miss him. Sam thinks, and looks away from the dejected face of the man who is slowly but surely becoming his friend. His tamped down sobs sound loudly in the empty space, the only other background noise the rustling leaves in the wind. Then, all at once, the portal whirs to life and a figure forms from millions of sparkling atoms in a nanosecond. Steve gapes at them all: Bruce’s wide, open-mouth (also green inside), the shock shining in Sam’s expression, the way Natasha seems to shrink a little behind him. Bucky looks as though he’s been slapped across the face, and his cheeks glisten.

“Oh, hey…” Steve steps in, forcing down the urge to fling his fists around. He can't fight this, the source of those tears. He’s the cause. He’s made Bucky cry. His fingers brush them away. “I know I promised to knock the lights out of anyone who hurt you, Buck, but I already wrestled myself once and I just got back.”

Bucky chokes on a watery laugh, and claps Steve on the back a little too hard. “Fuck you, Rogers. Seriously,” His hands slide down his shoulders and curl tightly around his hips. “I can’t believe you did that!”

Steve’s pelvis seems to gravitate closer to Bucky of its own accord.

“What, you really thought I’d leave you? I told you what I was doing!” His fingers card through the hair falling just before Bucky’s eyes. “End of the line. I’d never go back on that.” He adds seriously, getting his own grip on Barnes’ waist, thumbs swiping over the outline of his hip bones.

“But… You were late.”

“Only by a few minutes. Turns out Schmidt was still alive, sort of-”

“No!”

“Yes! And no one thought to tell me that the Guardian of the Soul Stone was my fucking wartime enemy?” Steve throws his hands up, shooting a glare at the rest of them. “Good thing I know how to piss him off already, it came in handy getting Tasha back.”

“Yea- How did you…” Bruce cuts in, but he falls quiet when Natasha, finally unspooked, throws her arms around him.

“I thought… I thought you really did it. Went back to Peggy with the extra particles.” Bucky sniffs, and hugs him tighter.

“Uh- what?” Bruce lifts his chin from Natasha’s hair.

Steve shakes his head, once, firmly. “I did. Got that last dance. She showed me pictures of her wedding, her kids, her “husband,” her new flame who’s a movie star. Hell, Buck, she won an Oscar, and she knows how to make pasta from scratch! How would I have lived up to that?”

“You’re right. You burn toast, Rogers.” He says it so lovingly, though, that Sam, who’s been inching closer to the portal, feels like he should take another step back and give them some privacy. Damn.

“Captain America. War material yes, domestic husbandry material, no,” Steve agrees with a sigh. “Anyways, it was tempting. To-to stay. I mean, it was familiar, it was Peggy… But after everything that’s happened- I’m just not the guy she fell in love with anymore. She’ll always love me. The me she knew. And I’ll love her as I remember her. But she’s moved on. She wanted me to do the same. And that time, it wasn’t any more familiar because I slept through it. This is home now.”

He meets Bucky’s eyes with a shy, soft smile. “So I completed my mission. Returned every Stone to its proper place. The only thing I really changed was Nat.”

His shoulders square, and he raises himself up to his full height, imposing against some unseen challenger. “I returned the Stone, and neither the one who paid for it, nor the recipient were the one to use it. Tony-” Steve’s voice still breaks a little on the name. “He took a free ride. Clint didn’t. And I brought it back, which is more than Thanos could say. So… It was only fair.”

Steve preens a little as Bucky laughs incredulously and socks him in the arm. Leave it to America’s Most Righteous Ass to figure out how to best the very order of the universe.

“So- You didn’t tell Peggy where you… were?”

Steve’s smile twists into something more delicately sad. “No. I figured… Better to leave things as they are, rather than wishing for more I could never have. We don’t trade lives. Maybe Cap was supposed to come back when I did, to save all those people when they needed me. He could have done a lot of good in the last century, but then who’s to say what would have happened when the time to assemble came around? If we weren’t all together… Maybe nobody gets saved.”

“So OG Cap’s still frozen?” Bruce confirms.

Steve nods, growing a little uncomfortable. Sam’s temples throb with an oncoming migraine. He’s still dumbly standing there, holding the shield. He averts his eyes, shifting the case under one arm to wave a hand in front of their starry eyes.

“Wait…” Sam cuts in, with an unimpressed expression. “So, if you came back here… And you didn’t wake up yourself in the ice...”

“Uh huh…” Steve nods, sounding lost.

Sam shakes his head, running an hand across his forehead and down to rub at the back of his neck. “Then who the hell was that old guy, man?”

Steve falters, his bemused expression going from blank to rigid. His back stiffens and his hard eyes scan the area, fists balling at his sides. “What old man, Sam?”

Sam’s eyes go wide. “Oh. Uh… The old dude. He was just here. And he was, well, he was you. But like, ancient.”

“Right.” Bucky cuts in, one hand still scrubbing over his wet lashes. “I figured it was you, Stevie. I mean he looked just like you… and he had the shield.”

The disappointment in his voice is gone as quickly as it came, replaced with the bright surprise of having Steve, his Steve, in his arms again.

“He had my shield?”

“Shiny and new, doesn’t look a year over 1945.” Sam replies, unzipping the case to flash the vibranium. All three men have become pictures of tension.

“What the fuck?” Steve breathes, staring around at the empty grass before them. Back behind them, Bruce and Nat look as equally lost standing by the portal.

“Uh, guys, is everything okay?” Bruce calls out. “Because, seriously, I’m pretty intelligent and I have no idea what the hell is going on right now.”

“Let me get this straight.” Sam starts, holding up a hand, and laughs a little at the irony of the statement. “Did you give me the shield, this shield-” Sam lets it fall to the pavement with a sturdy thunk. “To become the next Captain America or not?”

Steve’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. He clutches Bucky as though to hold himself up with one hand, and his chest with the other, like he still has arrhythmia. “What? No!”

A wounded look flashes across Sam’s face, and then Steve slips into further panic.

“No, no! Sam!” He backpedals. “You’d be a great Cap. Honestly, I think that would be a great idea… I haven’t wanted to be him for a while now, being truthful. What I meant was that definitely was not me who told you that before.”

“Then who the hell was it?” Natasha chimes in, already sounding on the alert and back to her old self.

They all hear the off-kilter and slightly over dramatic giggling as it echoes around the trees, sending at first a cold shiver down their spine, and then a spike of dread through their veins. Steve just feels tired, honestly. He sags a little against his best friend, whose confounded face, void of recognition, still peers around the vacant park. The laughter gets louder, and a golden helm flashes through the branches of one of the trees.

“I always was good at impersonating you, Captain, but I think this was my best yet!”

Sam looks down with a scream; a thick white snake slithers around his arm, the empty case unzippered at his feet, kicking up dust where it fell.

“Loki…” Bruce growls, clenching his huge teeth.

The god in question flashes them a cheeky grin, vanishing in a spark of blue light before any of them can draw a weapon. Well, Bucky throws a knife with one hand, but it hits the tree behind where the trickster squatted a moment before and lodges itself into the rough wood.

“God, was he always that annoying?” Steve barks, and Natasha rolls her eyes with a shake of her head.

“Ugh. Yes. I call not having to deal with that particular loose end. I died already.” She tosses a tiny grin at Steve, a secret smile of a moment shared between them upon her return.

“I thought you’d do anything for family.” He quips back, pulling her into another hug, one arm around her, the other draped over Bucky’s shoulders.

“Yes. But I’m hungry as hell right now, and exhausted. I want a peanut butter sandwich, and Clint, in my room at the base immediately. He can tell me the story before I take a nap.”

Bruce whistles like it pains him. “Yea… We sort of lost the complex.”

“It blew up.” Sam helpfully supplies in a deadpan, waving his arms, sans snake, in the motion of a large cloud.

Natasha, to her credit, doesn’t seem very surprised.

“And Tony…”

“I know.” Natasha stops Bruce, laying a hand on his meaty forearm. “Steve told me. I’m sorry I missed the service.”

“We’re just glad to have you back.” Steve says quietly, muscling her into the waiting car. He knows this isn't the end, that it's going to kick in soon. Natasha’s alive, everyone’s alive, thanks to the Iron Man’s sacrifice. And he’s going to have a lot of explaining to do… To baffled Bruce, to Scott, to Hank Pym. But for now, his friend needs to eat. He wonders if that old place still has shawarma. They could get it in Tony’s honor.

Later, when everyone’s stomachs are sated, and Natasha’s curled under a heavy blanket on Sam’s couch after a much longer processing session by all, with tears and curses and happy shouts of elated disbelief (everyone hugs Natasha about a hundred times, including Clint, who shows up immediately, and won’t let go), Sam and Steve are out on his porch, watching the cars lazily snake down the streets in the golden glow of the setting sun. He’s got a glass of sweet tea, an old addiction he picked up from Riley, in hand. The cool frost on the glass trickles down his fingers.

“Did you mean it? About me… Taking the mantle?”

Steve eyes him for a moment in contemplative silence. “Yes. I can’t think of anyone more deserving, or capable. You did much more for me when I came back than just fight in my battles. And that’s what really proved you were right for the job.”

Sam seems a little stunned, or flattered, or both. He ducks his head with a slightly crazed chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned. Sam Wilson, Captain America. What’ll you tell the world?”

“I gotta tell ‘em anything? Maybe they’ll just think I died… I know I’m good at speeches, but I’m a little tired of my every other word being a monologue for someone else’s sake.”

Sam nods, knowing it’s not his decision to challenge. “But you’ll be around… In case-”

“In case the world needs me? I’ll be around. I’m not actually gonna die. But I was a wanted man… And the lack of a shield or a star spangled suit didn’t seem to stop me from helping others.”

“No, man. In case I need you.” Sam’s voice goes serious, vulnerable.

“To what? Kick your butt on a race course?” Steve smirks, nudging him with one shoulder. “As your mentor, you don’t need me. You’re doing a pretty good job on your own. As your friend, always. I’ll be here for a long time it looks like.”

Sam thinks back to when he lost Riley. He can’t imagine losing him twice, but Steve did, with Peggy. With Bucky too. With his actual timeline. Given the chance, he turned away from a do-over in his life, forced himself to face his problems head on. Sam’s pretty sure he’d make the same choice, but he knows it couldn’t have been easy. Maybe that’s what Steve sees in him. But before he was Cap, he was Cap’s friend. His best friend, maybe, besides Nat and Bucky. So he gives the hand beside him a quick squeeze. If Steve wants to talk about it, he knows Sam’s there. But if he doesn’t, he won’t push him. So that’s why what he says next is: “And what about the… Shield and all that?”

“Well. New Captain America. Means new shield, new suit. New incarnation. Seems best to leave it up to you to decide.” He looks Sam in the eye. “You get to define the mantle now, bud. Don’t let it define you like I did.”

Sam nods, a little bit overwhelmed with emotion. He’s already thinking about plans for a new shield. Maybe still using vibranium, but ethically sourced, not smuggled, this time. Maybe if he works it out, T’Challa and Shuri would be more than happy to provide. And wings… He thinks he might miss those if they weren’t worked into the design. Steve beams at him, happy to see him already losing himself to his thoughts.

“Happy daydreaming, Cap.” He murmurs, with one last squeeze, and the sound of the screen door sliding open again as Steve Rogers heads back inside.

reblogs are appreciated :)

[blubushie]

TF2 questions for ya:

Favorite ships if any?

How well do you think you'd get along with the various mercs? Not how much you like em as characters cause I know I very much enjoy Soldier as a character but I could not last 5 minutes in a room with him before we started arguing and it would probably end poorly for me.

I love canon so SoldierZhanna is my only "real" OTP but I basically consider HeavyMedic canon at this point and I enjoy that ship and their chemistry a lot. I also very much enjoy ScoutPauling because Scout's so cringefail but I also want him to be happy and get the girl of his dreams because I'm a sucker for romance and happy endings, and I think he'd be great for helping her relax and have some freedom aside of work. I also enjoy SniperScout because "never shuts up" and "never talks (much)" is a fun dynamic to me.

Favourite crackship is AdminSniper because they're married IRL and I don't think shagging your boss is very professional so it's funny to me. Be professional (except when you're shagging your boss).

How well do you think you'd get on with the mercs?

I kinda covered this here? I'm going to copy-paste some of that but also add more because reasons.

Scout: His incessant yabbering would probably get on my nerves at points but it'd also mean I'd always have someone to talk to. We could discuss baseball and shit. His idiocy is endearing to me and I would constantly take the piss out of him in subtle little ways that he probably wouldn't even notice. Probably easily impressed too. I could skip a rock and he'd sing my praises and I appreciate a little ego stroking (and I'd laugh my arse off when he goes "Pssh, I can do that to" and the rock immediately sinks). Honestly I'm just a sucker for rays of sunshine. I enjoy peoplewatching so I'd love to take him camping and sit down in a folding chair with a beer and watching him try to figure out how to pitch the tent (and then be surprised when he finds out I don't usually even use a tent).

Soldier: Reminds me of my dad. I'd like to get in his head and talk about the military and shit (not that he ever actually was in it, but still). Would take him off-roading but end up dumping him like an unwanted dog when he breaks my Hula Girl.

Pyro: Scares me. Would still do a tea party with him and let him dress me up in a skirt or paint my nails even but only if he promises not to chop my hand off or start a bushfire. Would kill to be a badass and light a dart off his flamethrower. Also would just enjoy reading to him as long as he doesn't tell me to slow down.

Demoman: So many stories. Would love to share a bottle of single malt Scotch with him. I need him to rate my mixology skills (of which there are none. I can make a screwdriver and that's it, but I try). Would love to discuss chemistry with him and have him show me how to make [redacted by the ATF]. I don't know much about Scotland so I've love to discuss legends and cryptids native to our homelands. I can cover two countries!

Heavy: Would like to discuss Russian literature with him. Gives me "alcohol and heavy machinery weapons don't mix" vibes so I probably wouldn't be able to drink with him, but I'd love to discuss books and philosophy and hang shit on communists and go shooting with him. Bonus points if he lets me shoot literally any of his miniguns.

Engineer: He makes me wish I was taller so I could tease him about it. Bonus points if we're just the same height because that's even funnier. "I'm short but I've been told I'm Spiritually Tall, therefore I'm taller than you." Also if he wouldn't mind a little extra work I'd let him have a butcher's at Matilda to find out why her engine makes that ticking noise sometimes when I got over a hundred. I'm not very smart with machinery (my greatest achievement is making a battery out of a lemon) but I'd love to hear him explain it to me even though I wouldn't understand a goddamn bit of it.

Medic: Bloody hell you have no idea how much I wish I was mates with him. Look at my blog and is it any wonder? Oh, to be his assistant for just one day. I've got steady hands! We can discuss bush medicine and natural toxins and all kinds of weird drugs and a million other things. Would let him scar me. I want him to literally rearrange my guts and chat with him all the while because I'd be awake and watching and asking dumb questions like "Is that my appendix?" despite knowing fully well that it's on the other side behind my liver and not my stomach just to hear him correct me. I want him to praise me on the condition of my heart and liver and then backhand me about the condition of my lungs despite me not inhaling. I should've listening to my parents and gone to medical school.

Sniper: ...Aheh. The bush is lonely and bushmen have a tendency to stick together (when we aren't at each other's throats threatening to kill each other territory). I want to make him brekkie with something I hunted (or fished) and we could talk firearms and snares and wildlife and Australia and stars and whatever else. I want to do shrooms and DMT with him. I want to hear the story of every scar he has, I want to exchange stories of our time in the bush and Outback, I want to ride horses with him and have him be my muster mate for just one ride. I want to hear about the world and all the places I've never been from the eyes of someone who gets it like I do. He is the only person I would ever allow to shoot my rifle.

Spy: French, incredibly obnoxious, but I'd still like to be mates with him. I'd love to hear his stories of espionage and women and jobs gone wrong and jobs gone right. I want to sit in his smoking room in a silk smoking robe and enjoy the finer side of life for a while. I want to smoke a $6000 Cuban cigar and taste its flavour on my tongue and chase it with a sip of Scotch that's so rich I'll dream about it for years to come and cost more money than I'll ever see in my lifetime. I want to indulge and discuss tobacco and fine liquor and antique revolvers. Only bloke I'd ever dress up for and I'd put up with him taking my measurements for a suit.

[wilysigma]

Drained by Mistress's Gimp Day 3 Night

Dutch is sore and needs his rest,but Gimp isn't done as he's lubing up an Dutch hangs in the balance just in the air enough for Gimp to be in the quick fuck position without any swaying away by Dutch just extreme pounding,and also a position where Gimp will be slightly uncomfortable so he won't be focused on cumming for a while.Dutch moans and takes a breath under the hood as he's bout to be taken for another Gimp thrashing .........Gimp easily slips in Dutch takes it,and slowly Gimp starts building speed every pump,chains jingling,sweat dripping, grunting sounds, hardcore rock playing in the background....................25 mins pass and Gimp pulls back and stands there looking at Dutch shaking in the chains and gets aroused again and slides right back in the same position as the last 25 mins.A Voice comes out then PA Mistress Lethal says that was the most effective way to punish Dutch I can see and hear the pain and agony from him he'll never Masterbate without permission,heh heh heh continue Gimp..........As told by Mistress's Lethal Gimp starts again sliding in and building up speed and pounds and thrust fast and hard til he cums again and Gimp is laughing and Mistress Lethal is loving the sight of Dutch shaking,and orders Gimp to rest for an hr and eat to recharge,and zip Dutch up and let him suffer in the position and pain from the brutal fucking as Gimp leaves the room,and Dutch there will be a surprise when Gimp returns for the last 2 loads to fill you with........2 hrs go by and Gimp Reenters with cock sheath 2 more inches making Gimp much bigger than before and Mistress Lethal has informed Dutch of the surprise.Dutch feels his arse being rubbed before unzipped,Gimp slaps a glob of something that numbs the arse cavity.Time goes by and numbness takes effect,hot tired and sweaty Dutch is awaiting the last of his punishment.Gimp starts retightening Dutch with more rope so there's no mobility, gaffs and moans are heard from pain,......now Gimp gets in position for the last 2 loads........Back inside Gimp is thrusting deep and slow grips Dutch's thighs and gets the extra big cock in Dutch.......... fierce movement and chains thrashing causing Dutch to tire out and take his punishment 20 mins and load number has entered.Lethal says one more to go Dutch...Gimp add the other 3 inches.Dutch muffles HUH!YES GIMP 3 MORE INCHES SPLIT THIS BITCH IN 2.......as Mistress Lethal orders,and rope his neck and stretch it so he'll pass out heh heh.......Gimp tightens the rope and pulls to the door and ties the rope barely breathing Dutch is sprawled out awaiting what's next thinking he's gonna die and if not never to disobey Mistress Lethal again.Gimp positions himself and slides in with 3 more extra wide inches,Dutch barely makes a noise just shaking minimally as Gimps gets all the way inside balls deep thrashing comes from Dutch as he's being harshly fucked and being used as a Slut.......30+ mins go by and Dutch has passed out just as Gimps has shot his last load, Dutch's body just lies still and hanging in the balance......never to disobey again,with the sound of music of the song Summer Breeze by Seals and Crofts plays as he lays there til morning.............

[reges-nemus]

December 18, 1932

.

It has been three or four days since that near constant scratching has begun, and in those three or four days I've managed maybe two hours of sleep in total. I'm not sure why I'm writing this, to keep my mind occupied I suppose. To have some place I can gather my thoughts, lay everything out so I can try to find some solution to this scratching.

.

It started either very late on the night of the 14th, or very early in the morning of the 15th. It woke me up but I didn't check the clock for a long time, I just laid there and listened to the scratching behind the wall at the head of my bed. At first I thought it might have been mice or rats chewing on something, widening one of their passages. Then I heard it, just faintly. Honestly I'm not sure of what I heard, but it sounded like whispering. Most likely it was fragments of some conversation from the hall, or my still half asleep mind playing tricks on me. Whenever I think about it though I feel uneasy and on edge.. In any case though I didn't sleep the rest of that night.

Just after 9 o'clock the next morning, when I knew the maintenance man would be in his office downstairs, I put on my coat (it's always so cold in this damned building) and went to speak to him. I told him about the noise and he grabbed his bag of tools and followed me to my apartment. He stood there for a bit, with his ear pressed against the wall, just listening. I had to ask him three times what he thought the noise was before he answered in the most banal and monotone voice I think I've ever heard, "Everything is fine, it's just the pipes, they rattle when it's cold out.". I asked if he was sure, because it sounds like scratching or chewing, and that I'd never heard pipes make that sound before. His reply felt almost accusatory, "Everything is fine. It's just the pipes." and with that he left. At the time I thought he was just being lazy, didn't want to set out traps or poison for the mice, didn't want to repair the holes they had made in the baseboard in the halls, just wanted to sit and listen to the radio in his little office.

To my relief about an hour after the maintenance man left, so did the scratching. I was able to sleep for an hour or so before it started back up again. I tried beating on the walls, hoping to drive away these relentlessly chewing and scratching pests, but they didn't stop. I figured if I wanted them gone I'd have to take matters into my own hands. I spent the better part of an hour gathering all the loose change I could find around my apartment, a bit more than a dollar and a half I believe it was, and walked a few blocks to a hardware store to buy traps and poison. I remember the walk being awful. My lack of sleep seemed to add to the melancholic atmosphere that is ever present here during the winter. Peeking through a gap in the boards covering my window (need to seal that gap later) reveals an indentically smothering blanket of gray clouds hanging low in the sky. I also remember feeling incredibly tense and uneasy as I walked, as if behind every corner there was someone who would leap out and kill me. That feeling persisted into the hardware store, and the walk home wasn't any better. When I got home I loaded the traps with cheese, peanut butter, bread, and anything else I thought might attract the mice and rats who were still chewing and scratching away inside my walls. I also dosed some extra food with the poison and carried the lot into the hall, placing the traps near the holes in the baseboard and the poisoned food in little piles around the traps.

The rest of that day, the 15th, was mostly uneventful. I sat in the kitchen and tried to read, tried to distract myself from the scratching. I pulled an old radio from under the bed, hoping to drown out the noise but that didn't work either. No matter what station I tuned to all I got was a wavering "oooooo" sound with static. It was at this point I started to think that the rats were toying with me. I know that's a ridiculous thing to believe, but the thought was still there. The scratching would cease for a few moments and I would begin to fall asleep, but as soon as I felt myself drifting away it would start again, louder than before. The scratching was their laughter, mocking laughter.

In the early hours of the morning (after getting no more than maybe 15 minutes of sleep all throughout the night) I heard one of the traps in the hall spring shut. I hopped from my chair and almost ran out of the door, but managed to collect myself. Opening the door and entering the hallway I slowly crept around the corner and, kneeling down, looked at the traps. They were all sprung, but empty. The poisoned food was gone as well. I stood up and with a sigh I tossed the trap back onto the floor. As I turned to head back to my door I saw one of my neighbors staring at me. She's a very old woman, at least 80, but I don't know her name. I asked if she had heard the rats in the walls and her reply felt like a punch to the chest, "It's the pipes, they rattle when it's cold. Everything is fine." I immediately protested and told her, with no ambiguity, that rattling pipes don't sound like that, and that it had to be some vermin in the walls. She practically hissed at me, "Why can't you just be happy with what you have!?" and preceded to storm her way back into her apartment.

I haven't left my apartment since my encounter with her. I spent the rest of that day and yesterday sitting here, unable to sleep. I've listened to the scratching and chewing and thought about what she and the maintenance man said. At first I thought maybe it was some kind of orchestrated joke, telling me the same thing like that. I see her and a couple other tenants in his office all the time, crammed tightly around his desk whispering to each other. Then I realized what is truly happening. Every time I happen to pass by his office while they're meeting they all stare at me like I had just killed their collective mother. Angry and full of hate, but they never say anything. They just stare until I leave. I know now though, they placed these rats in the walls and followed me to the hardware store on the 15th and made me feel so tense.

In any case, it's almost noon and I've been writing this for near an hour. I will find something to eat and return when something else happens.

.

. -Michael

.

December 19, 1932

.

Something happened last night, and I'm still unsure as to what exactly it was. I had ate and finished sealing any gaps between the boards covering my door and windows when I noticed the scratching growing louder. I found where the noise was most intense and placed my ear against the wallpaper. At first I heard only what I expected, chewing and scratching, but what I heard next has left me shaken. I heard the whispering again, and laughter, and mockery. The whispering became clearer the longer I listened. "Michael... Michael... Hahaha... Michael..." Before I knew it my legs became week and I slid to the floor, my ear never leaving the wall. The next several hours are like a quickly fading dream in my mind. I was in some kind of trance, taken far away from my kitchen floor by those whispers. I was in that stupor until only a few hours ago. Things are concrete and certain now. The rats in my walls and the other tenants, their mockery and surveillance, their closely whispered meetings in the office, it has all become more clear.

I'm only writing now as I needed a break. I've been scraping a hole in the wall where I listened. I know of their mockery and scheming, the whispers made that clear, but I need a solution. The walls are too thick to hear what the whispers have to say. I could just break a hole in the wall but I'm afraid it will scare them away. Better to do this quietly.

.

. -Michael

.

December 24, 1932

.

I feel horribly silly for what I've written. I made it through the wall and everything is fine, the pipes rattle when it's cold.

.

. -Michael

.

.

.

.

Another short story, idk if it's good

[mildly-intrusivethoughts]

We're Still Acting, Right?

Word Count: 1,146

Warnings: Has the tiniest bit of angst. Also… Kissing 🤢

A/N: Really been in the mood for some Actor!Mark. Had to get this idea out before more of ISWM comes out. Honestly, I really like seeing Actor!Mark be a demanding diva. Love me a man that's not afraid to do what he wants. Gender neutral for the besties.

The day had been long. Too long, even for a filming day. The amount of setbacks in this single day of production was enough to almost make you walk out. Probably didn’t help that Mark needed the occasional cosmetic touch up as well as many breaks to rest his “god gifted” voice. “It’ll be fine,” he said, “We’ll get it done.”

 The hours you put in today made filming feel like an absolute nightmare. Scene after scene, you and Mark pushed to put out your best acting for the camera. Maybe it was the late hours, but you strive even harder than normal to make sure you absolutely get it right the first shot. Pouring even more feelings and meaning behind all your movements. Despite all of Mark’s complaining and drained energy, you carried on. The show must go on.

Once more, you and Mark stood on the beautifully designed set. Filming again in the main deck of the Invincible II. The lighting to the set this time is dark, with hues of red and blue. And once more the director set the scene, ”Alright, so at this point we’re near the climax of the storyline. Mark, Y/N, for this scene I want you to go ahead and follow the script but feel free to improvise a bit. Go ahead and add in any extra bits you think will give this scene that extra raw emotion that’ll have the audience shaking and crying. Remember: You’ve gone around in circles. You’re starting to feel hopeless, but you’re still trying to remain strong for each other. Alright? Annnd ACTION.”

The lighting casted a shadow on your face while Mark’s was slightly visible from the consoles emitting a soft light. Letting the lighting set the mood, you then turned dramatically to Mark and brought your hands to your face and yelled in despair.

“I’m tired of this Mark! How many times do we have to keep doing this? Doesn’t it bother you? The amount of times we’ve been running around! The amount of times we’ve had to watch our crew risk their lives! This almost feels futile. Our colonists aren’t even aware of everything going on, about how many times I’ve failed them!” You brought your hands down to your sides, fist closing tightly, speaking slightly above a whisper “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.. The amount of times I’ve had to see you d-...” Your voice faltered, feigning tears, unable to finish your sentence. Before you managed to let the tears trail from your eyes Mark closed the gap between you, strong hands grasping your shoulders. His voice sounded so reassuring, unlike how you know him to normally speak, “Captain, I know. I know this isn’t ideal, but we have to keep trying! Please, we can’t just stop now. Not when our next jump into the wormhole could be the opportunity we’ve been needing!”

Out of your peripheral, you can see the production crew leaning forward in their chair. No one dared to make any kind of noise. We must really be selling this scene. 

Suddenly Mark inched closer to you, hands sliding up to hold your face delicately in his hands. His eyes looked deep into yours, it took all your might not to look away. He was awfully close to you. This was nothing different from the many other times you’ve shared scenes together and by no means was this your first romantic scene, but something about this moment felt different. Maybe it was the late hours but something was off, something had changed. His lips felt like they were only a few centimeters away and you could feel his breath. It warmed your lips and left a tingling sensation. You couldn’t recall your next line. Truth be told you were caught off guard, but the director did say to sell it however you wanted. You almost didn’t even realize he went ahead with his line. “We’ve got to try, Captain. Doesn’t matter how many times it takes, we will fix this or go crazy trying to.” There was a twinkle in his eye, it was gone in a second but you could tell it was something mischievous. “But maybe..just this once Captain.. Let’s try something different.. Let me try something different…” the last word trailed off, as he leaned closer and closer till your lips touched. You quickly reacted, grabbing the front of his jumpsuit pulling him in closer, making the kiss more passionate. His mouth moved effortlessly against yours as he leaned in, deepening the kiss. You opened your mouth to allow him to slip his tongue against yours and just as you were about to sweep your tongue against his- “CUT.”

Mark quickly pulled away, “Are you KIDDING me?! The scene was going so well!” You had briefly forgotten your surroundings. It’s like you were truly living in that moment. The director waved off Mark and shook his head “Look, I love it, I really do, you really are putting in that passion but this isn’t a goddamn romance novel! Remember: Your crews’ DIEING! You admire the Captain but that’s IT! We don’t got a spot in this storyline to add in this sudden romance!”  While Mark and the director argued, you simply stood there in disbelief at what happened. In all your years acting together, he’d never kissed you like that. Damn, he’s never actually kissed you at all. Even as improv. It was all for the camera though, right? 

“Alright! Let’s reset the scene!” 

Your costar grumbled over, taking his place in front of you while mumbling on about how they simply just didn’t see how great his direction would have been. “Hellooo, Y/N? You alright?” You nodded quickly but you just had to ask, “That was all for shows, right?” You didn’t dare let your eyes look up at him. There were always some one liners that you threw at each other, all in which you always told yourself was in a joking tone but you just had to make sure it wasn’t the long hours making you get in your feelings, “We’re still acting, right?” When your eyes finally met he gave an annoyed nod of his head. “Uh, yeah. C’mon focus, Y/N, this is the big leagues. I need you to be with me and give it 110%.” Before you could even make a response back he pulled you in once more, close enough so no one else could hear him and tapped a finger to your chest, “Now here’s the plan: I say we try that again and really go all out. Screw the director, they’re gonna see that I had the right idea all along!” 

“Enough talkin! ACTION'' You were in for a long couple of months if filming was gonna keep like this.. not that you were complaining much.

[subwaysurf45]

Love You to the Moon and Back

summary: Bucky notices you’re feeling down after a bad injury, he does his best to help.

words:  3817

warning: depressive episode, doctors, mainly fluff!

pairing: Bucky x Reader 

Masterlist!

Bucky could tell you were getting bad again. 

And it hurt him to see you like this but it always happened after a big mission, your job was traumatizing and it took a toll on all of you. Bucky knew he had his days but he also knew when you finally let yourself slip it was really bad. 

You were a very headstrong person, you didn’t like letting people see your weaknesses or just you being hurt in general. So it sucked when you had broken your shin and witnessed a school of kids get blown up by a bomb, maybe sucked is an understatement but it was what you always said. 

You had pretended to be a teacher because there was supposed to be a hit on most teachers at a private school, so when the school blew up before everyone was out of the building- including you -it left the memories very crystal clear. There was no way of saving everyone so you saved yourself, and the feeling of selfishness had never been more apparent than right now. You were lying in bed with a cast on your left leg, your left leg was on top of the duvet while the other leg was under. 

A tank top and shorts was all you wore even though you were cold. A pillow was placed between your legs down by your shins to keep the injured one elevated, Bucky had stuck it there the last time he came in to check on you. 

Speaking of Bucky, he walked into your shared room in the compound. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky cooed as he gently opened and closed the door without making any sound, you had become hyper-aware to sound and light so a loud noise or a flash of a camera could send you into a state of hysterics. Bucky sat himself at the edge of the bed at around your midsection, you were lying in the middle and facing him. You barely said hello, all you could muster was a groan that had the same rhythm as the word hello. “How’s my girl doing?” Bucky rubbed your thigh very carefully. 

It was so obviously a rhetorical question, you were absolutely shit and he knew it. You both just stared at each other and Bucky seemed to get the message, he nodded and looked down. The room was so dark from the lights being off and the curtains being pulled you barely registered that Bucky had a plate of cheese, apple slices, and crackers. Bucky saw you turn your nose up and he knew you would, you had been like this for what felt like weeks. 

“You have your two appointments today, you wanna use the crutches or the wheelchair?” Bucky asked as he gently caressed your thigh, a little hum came after a few sections to clarify this wasn’t rhetorical. 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled into your pillow. 

“Okay…” Bucky held onto the last syllable, he glanced over to the wheelchair and crutches. “How about you have a little snack and then when you got food- and I’ll get water -you can make your choice. You also know you can switch and I’ll be glad to grab it for you, alright?” he did a few quick pats on your thigh before setting the plate down on the bedside table, he grunted as he stood up and stuck his arms slowly beneath you. All Bucky did was sit you upright to eat, you had gotten better at eating and now didn’t need motivation to eat but just a little push at the beginning to keep going after the first bite. Bucky also found if he ate a few pieces from the plate you’d be more inclined to eat the rest. 

“Thanks,” your voice was low and barely audible. 

“No need, pretty lady,” Bucky got right beside you and grabbed the plate, he placed it between you and let you choose the first piece. “So, you’re at the doctor at two and then Doc at three-ten, do you wanna nap between for a little or for a while after?” he just took a cracker and plopped it into his mouth. 

“No, no nap between, I wanna sit outside Doc’s office like before to make sure I’m not late.” You mumbled and stacked a piece of cheese on an apple slice. Doc was your therapist that was assigned to you a little while before your injury, Bucky wasn’t the only one who got nightmares and manic episodes; you probably got them more. Bucky knew he couldn’t go into your therapy meeting, he could physically go in but it went against his morals, this was your time to be alone and completely vulnerable to a human that you only see one or twice a week, he didn’t want you to sugar coat anything just because he wa sitting there. 

Bucky nodded and hummed before pulling the notebook out of the bedside table’s drawer, your combat backpack which you used for everything between missions and a picnic in the park was curled over itself in the corner of your room. Bucky picked it up and headed back to bed to let it rest there as he packed. He did this when you weren’t injured, Bucky had sadly realized your memory was a little shot from the amount of bootleg brainwashing and head injuries. You’d constantly forget about appointments or missions, or even the date. 

“Baby, I told you, your birthday is today, that’s why I got flowers.” Bucky said and pointed to the counter with the bright flowers on it. 

“No…” you rubbed the front of your head. “My birthday isn’t today, I forget the day- but it’s not today, I swear.” 

He slid in your journal that you used to write down lists and memories, you had used a guitar pick as your bookmark even though you can’t play anymore. Sometimes when you’d show up to a therapy session you’d forget what you wanted to say, it hurt him when he’d walk you there and you’d be saying the list of things under your breath with your eyes closed. Nightmare, mom, picking my nails, ankle, nightmare, sand, flowers. 

“We gotta go soon, anyways, wanna get ready for the day?” Bucky softly asked, there was no nice way of telling your loved one they needed to shower. 

“Sure,” you looked down at the plate and grabbed the last of it before getting up, the apple and cheese was just curled in the palm of your hand, as you walked over you shoved it all into your mouth because you knew you had to shower and you didn’t like soggy cheese. 

“I’ll keep packing your bag, and I’ll fill a water bottle for you.” Bucky had been your human crutch as you walked to the bathroom, you had an itch down in your cast that was bugging you. 

Tony had wanted to add tech to the shower to help you stand because putting pressure on your left leg hurt after three minutes and seven seconds- not that you were timing to see how long you could go without collapsing. You had said no to tech and just asked for a bar, Bucky even thought it would be cool but it was all up to you. 

Bucky helped you slip out of your clothes before leaving you be, he knew he would have to check on you periodically because you were too stubborn to ask for help if you had fallen or couldn’t get in the shower. You gripped onto the metal bar and helped yourself slip in, you turned the water on right away. 

You liked warm, long showers. You just let the water hit your skin as you stood in front of the shower head, the water pressure was high so you let the bullets hit your face when your eyes were closed. Your hair got wet as you stood there, you reached for the bottle of shampoo and expected it to be where it always was. The was getting into your eyes and when you squinted to see where the bottle was everything was double, as you reached for the bottle you had actually reached for the fake double and knocked the bottle off the ledge. A loud thump rang through the bathroom and it sounded like a bomb. 

There was one second of silence before you heard scrambling from outside the bathroom door, all at once you could see the door swing open by its shadow through the curtain. The curtain was pulled back so hard a couple of ringlets holding it up were ripped off. 

“Baby?” Bucky yelled before he registered you were standing upright. “What?” he breathed heavily, he was completely expecting you to be passed out on the floor with a cracked skull. 

“Shampoo bottle,” you said meekly. 

“Oh, thank god…” Bucky sighed to himself as he reached down to pick it up. “Are you hurt at all, did you fall?” He placed the bottle back on the ledge which made him reach across your naked body, on his way back his hand touched your shoulder then went to cup your cheek and move your head to look at him. 

“I’m all good, babe.” You smiled, an exhausting smile. 

“Alright, back-is-packed, finish up and I'll help you over to physio, alright?” Bucky closed the curtain to give privacy but waited for a verbal answer. 

“Perfect, thank you.” You grabbed the bottle again, your heart ached for him to be in the shower with you, it was something you did all the time before you were injured. 

“Don’t thank me, pretty lady.” Bucky reached for the door and opened it, before he could walk out, your voice quietly called his name, he could barely hear it over the water in the shower. “Yes?” he replied with the same softness. 

“Stay here with me, please.” the ‘please’ came after a beat, and extra plea. 

“Always,” Bucky sat on the toilet seat and gave the company you needed as you tried to stick your finger down your cast to itch that one spot on your leg. 

*****

Soon enough you were sat in the physio room, Bucky was off to the side with paper work in his lap and a binder in your backpack he packed for you. You liked the moral support when you were here because you never really had the best experience with doctors, Bucky would act like he wasn’t even there. That was a good thing, he did need to be the hovering boyfriend all the time because that can get tiring for both parties. He’d look up and listen to the doctor near the end, Bucky would write down the exercises and when to do them so he could gently remind you later. 

“Alright, you’re gonna get a new cast next week,” the doctor smiled at you, when you didn’t pick up on the excitement the doctor’s smile faded. “That means three quarters done!” Bucky had looked up and smiled, even clapped a couple times. 

“Then I have to learn how to walk again,” that was an exaggeration but it didn’t feel like one. 

The doctor gave a knowing look, “why do I feel like you’re already walking without the crutches?” You didn’t say anything because it was true. 

Your leg was examined and x-rayed, Bucky held onto your necklace as you went in. Your mind faded in and out as the doctor spewed ‘doctor stuff’ at you, you just didn’t have the care to listen; but Bucky did. He’s the type of guy to take notes and research later. 

Bucky would look over and see you looking at the floor, not even paying attention. He knew he couldn't get mad at you, you both dealt with injury very similarly. But something about seeing you shut down entirely made his heart ache, he wanted to reach out and lift the corners of your lips up into a smile because they seemed like they were being weighed down, he couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and real smile. He hadn’t been going on mission to keep you company, but now he knew his most important mission.

He walked you over to your therapy session that was still in the building, your Doc would come to the Avenger tower. He’d walk you right to the door of some random debrief room and kiss you goodbye. Bucky would hold your shoulders and gently rub your arms to hype you up before going in, he gave his little speech and said the same thing after. 

“You know I love you, and I know it’s hard.” he’d then kiss your cheeks and forehead. “I’ll be right here when you’re done, don’t even sweat it, pretty lady.” He then wouldn’t leave until the door closed and he heard muffled voices. 

The tower was right in the heart of the city, everything he needed was right there and a walking distance away. He slipped on a long sleeve and his gloves, he knew you took the backpack but you also had reusable bags, he took a few and headed out into the summer heat, it wasn’t humid today which was great but it wasn’t cold either. The tote bag was slung over his shoulder, all that was in it right now as a list. 

flowers 

chocolate

card

stuffed animal 

To call Bucky a romantic would seem weird to someone who only knew of him from the news or a museum, you knew him as a total hopeless romantic. Even in the 40’s, Bucky was the type of person to keep their walls up until he really got to know and trust you. It would normally be one little thing that would allow him to truly be himself around someone, he let his guard down that day you were walking to the restaurant he made a reservation at, Bucky placed himself so that arm or hand you’d hold would be his right but when you caught on you walk around him and looped both arms around his left, metal arm. After that, he was goner. 

He’d leave little sticky notes everywhere, a blue square paper in the coffee mug that read: ‘make sure you only drink one cup!’ or another on your shampoo bottle: ‘you look great naked ;)’. Bucky knew the little things mattered to you and vice versa, he knew that grand gestures didn’t mean anything without a little kiss that came before. 

The flower shop smelt great, Bucky didn’t know much about plants but he knew which ones you’d like. He was thinking of putting one on each bedside so whenever you’re lying in bed- which was a lot -you could look at some pretty flowers. They were a nice shade of purple and the stems were not too long, Bucky bought them and put them gently in his tote bag before heading over two stores to the grocery store you always shop at.

He was envyus of your clean eating, you’d eat what you want but you’d shop at fermer’s markets and organic stores. Bucky didn’t know it made a difference. He went to the frozen section and found chocolate covered strawberries. Bucky picked up a little pack of eight and headed to the front. There were also flowers there but they didn’t look nearly as nice. All he wanted was a very simple cute card with a blank inside, they were easy to find. It was cream coloured with a little sketch of a fuzzy, brown teddy bear holding a yellow balloon. All it said in dainty cursive at the top was: “look at you go!” Bucky knew this was perfect. Near the cards were little toys and stuffed animals. He found a bear that looked eerily similar to the one on the card but without the balloon. 

As he walked into the Avenger’s tower the bag was full and he had enough time to spare to set things up. Bucky headed to the rooms and made the bed, he changed the sheets as well because he knew you liked them when they were crisp. The teddy sat right in the middle with the card next to it. Bucky had written a little note that covered the entire right side of the card. He got a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with ice, he also found that white wine you liked and stuck it on there with the strawberries just to keep them cool but not melted. 

Bucky glanced at his watch and felt almost giddy as he realized it was time to head over to the conference room, he had to work on not giving it away when he’d first see you with his wide smile. The walk to the room was quick because of how fast Bucky was walking, he turned the corners sharp and almost jogged down the hall down the meeting rooms. He only stood there for about three seconds before the door slowly opened, Doc had opened the door and helped you out. Bucky’s smile turned into complete worry when you walked out holding a tissue to your nose, your eyes were red and puffy. Bucky also noticed that your fingernails were red and bleeding, that was one habit you were currently trying to break. 

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked in quiet disbelief, his eyebrows almost touching. 

Doc gave a curt nod, “we talked about a lot of things,” her answers were always so vague. 

You sniffled and waited for Doc to leave down the hall, Bucky was still looking at you. His hands held your shoulders and gently massaged the answer out of you. 

“It was a good cry, I needed that.” you sighed from exhaustion. 

A little piece of Bucky’s heart broke, if you needed to have a good cry then you could have told him, he would’ve listened. Bucky started to go back and see where it went wrong, if he was too overbearing and if this whole afternoon he had planned was created at a very wrong time. He wanted to ask what he did wrong but what came out was different. “Well that’s good to hear, I know Doc is good at that- helping you out.” His words were true but something about the delivery made it seem uneasy. 

“I just-” you looked to the ceiling and hoped to find the words you needed written there. “I like flushing it all out to her because I won’t see her for a week and I don’t need to keep up with what I’m feeling. I always cry to you but Doc is just really good at explaining how I feel, you’re there to validate it and make me feel soothed.” You held his left hand as you both walked down the hallway. “I feel lighter, like, I feel better.”

“That’s always good, sweetheart,” Bucky made sure you were putting weight on him because you didn’t bring your crutches but you really should have. “I have a little treat for you,” He turned to face you when you both stood at his door, Bucky kept his hand on the door handle. “I know it’s been a rough few weeks but I hope you know I love you all the same, and all I see is my strong, beautiful girlfriend.” Bucky saw your confused face, as he opened the door to reveal a dim lit room with flowers, wine and a teddy your eye welled up with tears again. 

You gasped and put your hands on your chest, “for me?” your voice shook as you walked in, you peered into the ice bucket to see your favourite wine and some food as well as a card beside the ice bucket, under the teddy. Tears flowed down your face as the feeling of being overwhelmed washed over you, you could barely string a sentence together. A hand waved the gifts all away, “too much,” was all you could muster. 

“No, baby,” Bucky smiled, he walked over and pulled you into a hug. “Nothing will ever be too much for you.”

He let you cry in his chest for a very long time, you both ended up sitting on the edge of the bed as he stroked all the way up your back. His hand would bunch up your hair as he went up to your neck. His lips were right at your ear, all he whispered were sweet nothings and a calming ‘shh’ once and a while. When you had a little composure Bucky reached for the card, as you read it your lips trembled even more. A hand stayed glued to your heart as your body warmed at loving words, you could barely read it with blurry vision from the tears but it still seemed crystal clear. Your finger traced over the signature: ‘love you to the moon and back, Bucky’. And you crumbled again, your forehead hit his chest as you cried away all the pent up emotion you thought you flushed out at your therapy session. 

With all the crying you were so tired, Bucky had thrown on a movie you two could watch while enjoying your strawberries and wine. You only had two and half a cup before you were snoring on Bucky’s shoulder, he tried to nudge you a couple times but nothing worked at all. He watched the movie on his own and saved the last two strawberries for you in the morning. You didn’t even wake up at him getting up and leaving the room. When he came back he got you out of your day clothes and into something comfy. 

*****

You woke up to the sun hitting your back, when your eyes opened they focused on the flowers and a smile graced your face. It was the first time in a long time since you smiled with your eyes, a little giggle even slipped out. 

At that sound Bucky walked out of the bathroom, “well there she is,” he smiled wide. 

“What does that mean?” you wiped the drool from the side of your mouth, “I had a nap, a really good one, too.” You seemed to be bragging. 

“A nap? Baby, it’s eight.” Bucky raised his eyebrows. 

“Ya, I fell asleep at about five so I had a three hour nap, no biggie.” You rolled on your back and stretched out, your gaze moved back to Bucky when you heard a giggle, “what?” you laughed back. 

“Eight in the morning, the next day. Your three hour nap was actually a well deserved fifteen hour hibernation.” Bucky joined you on the bed. 

“That’s why I feel so good,” you sighed, you looked over to Bucky and swatted his chest at his little smirk. “Don’t think like that.” 

“I bet I can make you feel just as good-”

You cut him off with a kiss.