#literally who else could’ve done it besides Sam??

[autism-swagger]

Girls when they realize that Sam was probably the one that took care of Tory’s hand

[dr3amofagame]

uhhhh ,, , hi ??

i feel bad bc i havent been here in. LITERALLY forever lmao - hope you guys r all doing good!! ive been working on some stuff but it’s been pretty slow going, and school is also A Thing, so i definitely havent been writing as much as i’d like. 

as an apology, have this? really self-indulgent feel-good syndicate + c!dream centric oneshot bc i felt like writing this so u know. why not. 

tws: implied torture, abuse, self-harm, disordered eating, starvation mentions, prison arc themes - overall everything’s just blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mentions, not too much angst here for once! c!sam and c!quackity critical, sorry guys but we r still in the prison arc and they still r on their “fuck human rights” arcs. 

Dream leaves.

 It’s a surprise - or maybe it isn’t one, Niki isn’t quite sure. She’d never grown to quite trust the man, she knows, and she can’t really tell if the bitter twist of emotion that swells up her chest when Phil comes to her city with the news is betrayal or resignation - what can she say. She’s gotten more than her fair share of broken promises. They don’t exactly faze her anymore. 

 None of them seem all that surprised, save Techno, who entirely fails to hide the worry that flickers over his face when he calls the Syndicate meeting to officially inform them of what’s going on. She shares quick, careful glances with the other members when his back is turned - despite how many times he’s been burned, Techno still seems so adamant at holding onto every thread, trusting all too easily those who would use and leave him behind without a second glance. He can handle himself, she knows. Still, that’s not going to stop her from slapping Dream upside the head for being yet another worthless person to betray her friend’s forgiving nature. 

 Nothing much changes in the next few weeks. Niki has to admit, it’s strange without Dream around - he’d not been an ally, much less a friend before dipping completely, but he had been some sort of constant - and Niki is self aware enough to know that she misses him, a little, the same sort of way you might miss an old routine once it’s gone, if only for the familiarity. She still visits Techno and Phil with various baked goods, knowing that Phil would have his hands full just keeping Techno from running himself ragged - makes sure to check on Ranboo, whose nerves have inevitably returned with Dream’s disappearance. To be honest, she doesn’t worry as much as he does - ally or not, she’s spent enough time with the Dream that had left prison to expect that he won’t exactly be able to get himself very far should he come for the four of them, and doesn’t particularly care about he might pull with the rest of the server - if things get bad, she’s sure Phil and Techno will have it handled. She asks Phil, once, what happened, and he shrugs. 

 “I don’t know, mate,” he heaves a chest to the side, pulling out a stack of stone blocks that Niki gladly holds for him. “One day we woke up and he was just- gone. Everything. Was like he wasn’t ever there at all.” 

 Niki hums. “Why’d you think he’d do something like that?” 

 “If I could understand half of why Dream does what he does, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?” He smiles at her from behind a crate. “Shall we bring these things upstairs and start on dinner?” 

 Niki laughs, knowing that the conversation about Dream is over. “Of course, Phil.” 

Dinner is a welcome distraction; all of them have gotten better at cooking in recent months, between her baking and the veritable library of recipes Phil knows that she’s never even heard of, but Phil is still the only one she really trusts to hold his own behind the stove - Ranboo is still a little too nervous around water, and fire, and much of everything, and though Techno can be a perfectly capable cook, he’s been distracted as of late. She has a strong feeling that left to his own devices, he’d just grab a stack of steak and disappear for another few weeks, searching the server for information. 

 Honestly, she’s a little thrown off by his behavior - he’d not done anything like this with Tommy, if she remembers right, and had hardly seemed affected by Wilbur’s betrayal on the Sixteenth at all (then again, she was a little too lost in her own head to notice if he was.) She tosses her head over to ask Phil, who’s leaning over a few carrots he’s slicing to throw into the stew he’s making, and the man pauses, frowns. 

 “From what I know,” he starts, words slow, careful, “they’d spent three months in there together, and the conditions weren’t exactly- stellar. According to what Techno said, I’d assumed they had come to some sort of understanding.” He goes back to the carrots, expression dipping into shadow and out of sight. “Guess I was wrong.” 

 Niki hums. She can see it, sort of - spending months together with someone, no matter how insufferable, probably would end with some degree of attachment - she thinks back to plotting through sleepless nights with Jack, anger and grief leaving them simmering, crabs in the same pot of boiling water, remembers looking into his dead-eyed gaze and seeing her own stare back - and feels a brief pang of guilt. Besides, Techno is Techno. She’d never met someone so willing to forgive, understand, reach out despite everything that’s happened - for Dream to take advantage of that feels almost too obvious. Of course he would - what were they all thinking?

 “He’s Dream,” she says as if that explains everything, flipping open the oven door and feeling a wave of heat blast her face. Phil hums lowly, understanding. “I hope Techno will be alright.” 

 “He’s tough,” Phil cracks a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “And he has us on his side. He’ll get through.” 

 Niki opens her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the front door slamming open. Outside their quaint little cottage, the wind howls - it sounds like the beginning of a blizzard out there, flurries painting the world in a thick blanket of white. In the door, Techno strides into the entrance with loud, decisive movements, shutting the door loud enough to make the walls shake. Inadvertently, Niki finds her eyes drawn to the small pile of snow that he’s tracked into the house - Techno’s usually so careful to kick it all off on the porch, never liked it much when there was a pile of melting ice and snow dampening the floorboards and soaking into his shoes. He huffs harshly, stripping off a snow-dusted scarf from his face - a long, multicolored abomination that had been the product of her attempting to teach Ranboo how to knit. Phil has reached his side, hands splayed over his upper arms, eyes soft in the corners from concern. 

 “Techno, mate-” his tone is chiding but his movements gentle as he brushes snow off of Techno’s signature cloak, “you’ve gotten snow everywhere. What were you doing, dueling a blizzard?” 

 Techno shakes his head, not meeting Phil’s banter as usual, fur sticking up from the snow melted into it. His voice is gruff and holds little humor - unconsciously, Niki feels her shoulders tense. 

 “Phil, call a Syndicate meeting.”

 ---

 Phil, per usual, is unrelenting, so it’s not until a quick dinner and some hurried messages to their final member later that the Syndicate is gathered in their meeting room, Techno pacing the length of the room as they wait in their respective seats. He looks less frazzled than he did when he first entered the house, in part due to Phil’s sitting him down to eat and picking through his fur to smooth it out of its windblown spikes and tangles - Techno had grumbled at him to stop preening him, but looked a lot more relaxed by the time they were all finished with their food. Still, his ear flicks periodically, twitching toward ssome sound that Niki can’t hear, movements tighter and jerkier than she is used to. He’d always been a little flightier after the prison, but not quite like this - everything here feels like that but dialed up to eleven. Inexplicably, it reminds her of Dream. 

 “Techno?” Phil gestures towards his seat, prompting, and he settles into it with an obliging huff. 

 “Y’know, Phil, the code names are kinda pointless if we never use ‘em,” he says, words carrying no real heat - he looks back at the rest of them, lips thinning into a line. “Anyway. I called this meeting because I found a couple leads on Dream.” 

 “O-oh,” Ranboo stutters, tail lashing behind him. 

 “You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, mate,” Phil reminds him gently, a sentiment that Niki affirms with a determined nod. 

 “There’ve been some reports- rumors, really,” Techno says, calling their attention again, and they all turn towards him, “of increased activity around the prison again. The Warden spending more time on its grounds, movement seen around the walls and around the portal- so I decided to go check it out for myself.” 

 Niki frowns, and watches as Phil does the same beside her - Techno had seemed to avoid the prison if he could help it, save for when he went on the initial mission to break Dream out. It was no secret to them that he didn’t exactly like the place. 

 “We could’ve helped if you asked,” Phil reminds him, and Techno shakes his head. 

 “I know, Phil. It’s just- that place is bad news. I’d rather keep you guys away from there if I can-” his hand goes to his head with a poorly hidden wince. “Sorry, Chat’s a little- worked up, at the minute.” 

 “Sorry, we’ll stop interrupting you,” Niki says, cutting off Phil before he says anything else. “So you went to the prison?” 

 Techno takes a second to gather his thoughts, mumbling quietly in the way that usually means he’s telling off Chat. “Right- I decided to stake out the portal. The rumors were right- Sam has been hanging around there, entered and left the prison four times yesterday. And today-” he hesitates, expression visibly darkening. “This morning, about an hour after the Warden arrived, Quackity came to the prison and went through the portal. He left the grounds about six hours later.” 

 “Quackity?” Niki frowns, eyes flicking over to how Phil has stilled in his seat. “What is Quackity doing at the prison?” 

 Phil ignores her question, reaching towards Techno, something indiscernible in his gaze. “Mate…”

 “He smelled of blood when he left,” Techno says, words sharp, and Niki feels her heart skip a beat. “Warden left about half an hour after, and I came back here.” 

 Ranboo clears his throat, sounding tentative. “Okay,” he drums his hand on the table when they turn towards him, eyebrows drawn, “but what, exactly, does this have to do with, uh, Dream?” 

 Techno and Phil trade glances, one of their bouts of unspoken conversation that Niki’s grown extremely used to. They seem strangely hesitant, she notes internally, Phil looking towards Techno with a question written clearly in the planes of his face. Techno sighs, a long puff of air through his lips as he closes his eyes and turns his face towards the table. 

 “You know how Dream was- injured,” he starts slowly, looking back up at them. Niki shifts uncomfortably - of course she noticed, it was impossible not to - if not the bandages that peeked under his sleeves and the cuffs of his pants, then how skinny he’d been, all skin and bones curled up uncomfortably in a pile at the corner of Techno’s couch. She’d not know the extent, by any means, and had always assumed that they’d been self-inflicted - she’d been in a bad enough place on her own before to know how your head can make you want to hurt, sometimes, how eating food can feel like choking on sawdust and the world could feel so much smaller when focused into delicate pricks of pain. Phil’s eyes are trained on Techno - on his face, then on the pinkish raised skin of a still-healing scar along his forearm, and she feels understanding settle like a rock in her gut. 

 “The Warden had apparently been lettin’ Quackity into the cell to torture Dream for the revive book,” Techno trails off, eyes narrowed and seemingly fixed on a random point of the opposite wall. “By the time I go there, it’d been goin’ on for months.”

 “But wait,” Ranboo’s tail moves even more erratically behind him, “You mean you think he’s back- there? How?” 

 “He has to be back in the prison,” Techno points out. “I can’t imagine anyone besides him that the two of them are goin’ to just start torturin’- Sam had been iffy about the whole thing when Quackity started in on me. It has to be Dream in there again.” 

 “But how did he get in there, then?” Ranboo asks, visibly confused. “Last time it took the entire server to lock him up!”

 “There were no signs of a struggle,” Niki points out, matter of fact. “I believe you, Techno, but I don’t really know how they managed to drag him back so easily. I can’t imagine he was jumping at the chance to go back in there.” 

 Techno shakes his head with an uneasy sigh. 

 “I have a feelin’ of what might’ve happened,” he says quietly. “And I really hope that I’m wrong and he’s less of an idiot than I think he is.” 

 ---

 They set out to investigate - and maybe attack - the next day, Techno and Phil taking on the bulk of preparations as Ranboo stays behind. He’d been understandably uneasy about the whole mission, so they’d left him back by the Syndicate room to set off their pearls in case anything went wrong. (“By the end of the day,” Techno had said, giving Phil a look with the corner of his lip quirked upwards, “don’t be like Phil here and think I meant the end of the month, alright?”) They’d all be supplied with armor and weapons, thanks to Phil, but she’d been handed the bulk of their potions, arranged neatly in her inventory by type in case they’d be needed. She lingers in the back of the room as Phil and Techno chat amiably over the sound of making last minute repairs on their armor, listens to Techno’s ceaseless reminders for Phil to be careful, watches as they make sure that their stasis chambers are properly prepared should they need them.

 (She watches as Phil nudges Techno’s shoulder when he lingers behind a certain chair, empty as long as she’s been part of the Syndicate, the fountain behind it bubbling quietly without a pearl inside. Techno sighs, expression strange. 

 “Should’ve set him up with one,” he says, quiet, and Phil pats him on the back. 

 “You couldn’t have known, mate. We wanted to wait a little before telling him about the Syndicate, remember?” 

 Techno hums, noncommittal. “Still.”)

 They Nether travel to the site of Techno’s lookout, which ends up being a little shambling thing with dirt walls dug into a small hill looking towards the prison portal, having hardly enough space to fit the three of them. Phil looks at it with no small amount of apprehension, and Techno shrugs lightly, wearing an expression that makes Phil turn to him with a look that makes Niki break into giggles. Techno crosses his arms- “in my defense-” and Phil looks up at the dirt ceiling with a long-suffering sigh. 

 “You couldn’t have made this a little roomier, mate?” Phil asks, voice dry as kindling, and Techno raises his hands by his head. 

 “Hey hey, it’s discreet, it gets the job done, it’s perfectly structurally sound-” the sound of the leftmost wall crumbling, along with the cloud of dust that puffs from it and fills their tiny space, undermines the tail end of his statement and leaves him sputtering, Niki falling into another fit of quiet giggles. Underneath it all, Phil sighs again, raising his wings behind him. 

 “...these are going to take so long to clean out.” 

 To his credit, Techno looks sheepish. “Sorry, Phil.”

 They sober up quickly; Techno turns around to the opposite side of the hill, where he’s hidden some peepholes inside the dirt - Niki settles herself by one, leaning forwards to put her eye to it and catch a glimpse of the prison looming over the water. It’s been repaired since the breakout, she notes, the gaping hole in the roof completely gone and replaced with obsidian, as intimidating and undamaged as it had been before, if not more so. Phil makes a considering sound from behind her.

 “Same plan as last time?” He asks, and Techno shakes his head. 

 “They’ve probably reinforced it, and Dream’s blueprints won’t include anything new the Warden’s added. I wouldn’t be surprised if they moved Dream to a different location completely. We don’t want to draw too much attention, either, we were cutting it pretty close during the breakout.” He narrows his eyes. “I was thinking we’d try something a little stealthier, this time. “ 

 He gestures at Niki, who blinks back at him with wide eyes. 

 “You got a couple of invis potions for us?”

 She distributes the potions among them all, one regular and two splash potions of invisibility each, and Techno points towards the prison once she’s done. 

 “The most important thing is to get through the portal,” he says with a grim expression. “Worst comes to worst, once we’re inside we can always blast our way through - but gettin’ through that portal is our first priority.” 

 Phil narrows his eyes at him. “The portal is locked, though. We’ll need to follow someone else inside- and I’m pretty sure Sam uses pearls, so he’s out.” 

 Techno nods. “Which is why I’m bankin’ on the prison gettin’ another visitor today. We’ll just have to wait.” 

 Niki swallows. “Do you mean-”

 “Quackity?” Techno turns away, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’m not totally sure, but he’s not exactly the type to just give up on his goals. He’s pretty predictable- an empire needs an emperor, always needs something new to rule- you know the type,” he says, tipping his head towards Phil. “He’ll be mad at Dream for disappearin’ on him and won’t miss the opportunity to prove he has the upper hand again. I’m not sure that he’s going to come today-”

 “-but you wouldn’t really be surprised, either,” Phil finishes for him, eyes steely with cold determination. “I trust your judgement, mate. Just stay safe- from what I’ve heard, Quackity has been...erratic.” 

 “When is he not,” Techno huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, Phil. Just be careful, both of you. Don’t get too close. And if things get messy- which is what we’re tryin’ to avoid, by the way- then don’t do anything too risky. Our priority is gettin’ in and out alive.” 

 “We can handle ourselves, Techno,” Niki reminds him with a small smile. “And Ranboo is there in case anything goes wrong.” 

 “Alright, then. Here’s the plan.” 

 ---

 It takes quite a long time for Quackity to arrive, long minutes that Niki spends fidgeting in the corner of the room, brushing her hands over seams of the netherite plates that Phil had shoved into her hands, back at the Syndicate room. The set is inexplicably light - not weightless, by any means, as it is still netherite, but not nearly as bulky as any set of netherite armor she’s owned or seen in the past. The runes are precise, lines thin and exact, written with graceful strokes of lapis. 

 “Phil’s the best metalworker I’ve ever met,” Techno tells her with a small grin, catching her in the middle of tracing what she can make out as an Unbreaking rune along the metal strapped to her forearm. “But then again, he’s had the time to practice.” 

 “Are you calling me old again?” Phil huffs, and Techno flashes a smile her direction before looking at Phil with a slight grin. 

 “Well, Chat is,” he says, lips twitching when Phil glares back. 

 “You can’t just blame Chat every time you insult me, you little shit,” Phil groans, and Techno only grins wider. 

 “Phil, my ad revenue,” he complains, a dramatic lilt to his voice that has Niki stifling a snort, and Phil’s glare only grows deadlier. 

 “You’ll have more than your ad revenue to worry about if you keep this up,” he mumbles, going back to keep watch at one of the peepholes and stilling as he does. “Shit- Techno, Quackity’s here.” 

 Techno straightens up, hindered slightly by the low ceiling of their room. “Alright- we all know the plan, right?” 

 Niki nods in the affirmative, pulling out a splash invis and letting it settle in her hand, the glass cool beneath her fingertips. She reaches into her inventory and lets her armor fade into it, takes a deep breath and watches as the two across from her do the same. She doesn’t wear armor often, but so close to the prison, feeling mining fatigue settling deep into her bones - she’s never missed the security it offers more. Techno keeps watch, waiting- drops his arm in a signal. Now. 

 Niki throws the potion at their feet, flinching back at the sound of shattering glass and feeling its effects seep into her skin. When she opens her eyes, she can’t see anything but the inside of the room that they’d holed themselves in and the faintest of wisps rising from where their feet must be, curling around the grass. 

 (Please let this work, she begs to no one in particular as they walk towards the prison. And if you can hear me- please keep us all safe.)

 She hardly breathes as they follow Quackity across the path, holding someone’s hand in her own - Phil’s, by the feel of it - careful to muffle her footsteps in the grass and stand still whenever Quackity’s eyes come a little too close. Thankfully for them, he seems focused, hardly stopping or looking around at all as he walks towards the prison’s portal, movements stiff as he walks forward. He punches the button on the wall particularly harshly, and Sam’s voice comes crackling through a speaker a second later. 

 “I’m here for my visit,” Quackity says, punctuating the sentence with a snort of laughter that doesn’t sound particularly sincere. Niki hasn’t seen him in a long while, not after everything that happened in Pogtopia, and she feels a chill worm down her spine - this man looks nothing like the one that had laughed and danced and sung at her birthday party what feels like an eternity ago. What happened? 

 Sam sighs, the sound turning into a sharp burst of static through the speakers. “Hello Quackity,” he says, voice deep and tired. “Please step into the portal after I tell you to and then wait on the other side.” 

 “I know the drill, Sam,” Quackity rolls his eyes. “Just because the bastard was gone for a few weeks doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how this damn place works.” 

 “Just going through protocol, Quackity,” Sam replies, and something about this response has Quackity exploding into a brief fit of laughter, the sound grating against Niki’s ears. She feels her grip tighten on Phil’s hand, air caught in her throat. 

 “Protocol- ha. Whatever you wanna tell yourself, pal.” Quackity smiles, cold and cruel, and Niki tries not to think about how she’d seen that same grin on Wilbur, eyes sparkling from the light of the lanterns hung from the bridges and walls of their ravine, remember how she’d looked into them and realized her old friend wasn’t there, anymore. Quackity disappears into the portal, and after a second, the hand around her own pulls her inside of it too.

 On the other side, Quackity taps his foot impatiently, crossing his arms and waiting- Sam’s voice comes through the speakers again, words clipped. 

 “Go through the portal,” he says, and Quackity does- once again, they wait for a second for his body to disappear, then go within it themselves, pressed close enough together within its frame for Niki to feel the warmth of a wing wrap around her shoulders for a quick second before they’re out of the hot, stifling air of the Nether and into a large, neatly made lobby of blackstone and quartz. They duck into a corner, watching as Quackity moves towards the front counter, the Warden waiting there with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks- tired. His movements are slow, footsteps loud against the floor, shoulders tense and back hunched. He walks around the counter, sword strapped to his belt, and Niki feels her breath hitch at the sight of dried blood still stuck to the blade in patches and splatters.

 “He ready?” Quackity asks, holding his hands out - Niki catches a flash of metal as Sam drops something into them, watches as Quackity raises what ends up being a pair of shears, dangerous-looking and gleaming with enchants, to the light. 

 “Yes,” Sam says, side-eyeing Quackity with a small glare. “You know, it’s supposed to be your job to clean those things off when you’re done with them.”

 “I told you, busy day back in Las Nevadas yesterday,” Quackity waves a hand- “I’ll do it, alright? Don’t get all pissy now. What happened to being partners?” 

 “You said we’d be done with this months ago, Quackity,” Sam sighs, and Niki feels a light tug on her arm as Quackity and Sam begin to walk towards the wall to the right of them, breathes in slow and deep as she follows Techno and Phil towards the others. The wall yawns open with the hiss of redstone firing and pistons pulling blocks upwards, opening into a dark hallway that feels like entering the maw of some sort of giant, insatiable beast. They step inside as one, and the door shuts behind them. 

 “We’ll be done soon enough,” Quackity says, and Niki feels hairs rising on the back of her neck. “Trust me.” 

 They stalk forwards through a labyrinth of blackstone, Niki brushing the palms of her hand against her clothes when it goes clammy from adrenaline. Halfway through, she pauses to tip back a second potion of invisibility, careful to keep her movements slow and steady as not to make a sound - the liquid is silvery, cool and light on her tongue, and she lets the effects wash over her with her breath caught in her lungs before moving forward. The tunnels are simpler than she’d expected, bearing little obstacles or checkpoints - Quackity makes a wry comment a second after (“Guard tunnels today, huh? Appreciate the hustle, pal-”) that confirms her suspicions. Despite the potion particles still whirling around their bodies and the sounds of their footsteps, too loud in her own ears, they manage to make it forwards without much trouble, entering a large room with a doorway filled completely with a curtain of lava. 

 “Set your spawn,” Sam says, still stoic, and Quackity rolls his eyes again before doing as told. Niki keeps looking back at the lava flowing past the wall, its heat filling the room and making her already slick palms even worse, and Sam moves to the side to flick a lever, eyes trained on the lava slowly bubbling in front of him. 

 “Give me your tools?” Quackity asks, and Sam sighs before doing so - Niki watches as he hands over a netherite axe, then potions, then a few raw potatoes that Quackity accepts and puts into his inventory. Sam raises an eyebrow once he’s done, hand tight around the handle of his trident. 

 “You bring your own sword, today?” He asks, seeming irritated, and Quackity shrugs. 

 “Sorry pal, I need to make a new one. Guess I’m borrowing yours again.” 

 Sam sighs again, louder, and hands over his sword as well, watching as Quackity swings it a few times experimentally. The blade skims a little too close to her on one swing and she can’t quite help the squeak that escapes her lips as she throws herself out of the way, feels her heart hammer in her ears as she backs up against the wall. Please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that-

 “Quackity, wait.” Sam raises a hand, ear twitching as he looks over in her direction with narrowed eyes. “I think I heard something.”

 Oh fuck.

 “Well, guess show’s up then,” Techno drawls, and both of them whirl towards his voice, giving Niki enough time to pull her armor back on, scrambling to get her sword and shield in her hands as Phil does the same besides her. Pieces of armor appear where Techno is standing, then a bucket of milk- oh, why must her friends be so dramatic- and Techno’s standing there, smiling sharply, with Orphan Obliterator held loosely at his side. “Let’s get this done, then.” 

 As one, Techno and Phil blur into action - Techno moves forward to catch the prongs of Sam’s trident on his blade as Phil parries Quackity’s blows with his own sword- they move fluidly, easily covering each other’s backs as the room devolves into chaos. Niki remembers their guidance as she flits in and out of the fight, scoring quick hits to keep the Warden and Quackity off balance while remaining out of range from their weapons, and it’s not long before both of them have fallen with a spray of items and experience orbs scattered all over the floor. 

 Techno moves over to block off the exposed face of the bed with a block, looking over at the two of them with an uncharacteristically severe expression. “They’ll be back soon- we have to move fast. Niki, you have those fire res, right?” 

 She nods as she reaches into her inventory, finding the potion’s orange-pink glow and smashing it at their feet. They dive into the lava together, Niki scrambling to keep up, her arms struggling to move through the thick lava, loses sight of both until she flails into something directly in front of her and hands are pulling her up out of the lava. 

 “There you go, mate,” Phil smiles down at her as hauls herself to her feet, making a face at the feeling of the lava clinging to her clothes. “Yeah, swimming through lava isn’t exactly fun. You good?” She flashes him a thumbs up, and he laughs- “Niki, you’re still invisible.” She flushes pink- right.

 A few sips of milk later, she gives him a proper thumbs up, and he laughs, loud and bright. She looks past him to where Techno’s crouched over something- someone, she realizes with a start, in the corner. Dream’s back in prison clothes, ragged and ill-fitting, and he’s curled up with his back towards the front of the cell, shaking enough to be obvious even from where she’s standing. Techno speaks lowly, voice barely more than a deep rumble in the air, almost inaudible.

 “You there, Dream?” 

 She watches as Dream turns his head, looking up with wide, bleary eyes. His hair flops in front of his face, and something within her itches to brush it out of the way. “T-Techno?”

 “Yeah nerd, who else?” Techno smiles, and Dream seems to blink awake, drawing himself up with a shuddery breath. 

 “Techno- it’s a trap- what are you doing here?” he hisses, and Techno gives him a look, deadpan.

 “Yeah, yeah, it’s a trap- come on, Dream, we’ve been over this by now, bro. You have to know that their traps aren’t goin’ to do anything to me by now,” Techno rolls his eyes, reaching forward to steady his hands on Dream’s shoulders when the other man sputters and struggles to breathe. “Easy, now. Geez, you wanted to prove me wrong about being homeless bad enough that you came back here? We could’ve just made you a house, you know. You didn’t have to go this far.” 

 “I- they were gonna kill you,” Dream breathes, face twisted up uncomfortably, and his eyes flick past Techno’s face to where Phil and Niki are standing at the opposite wall of the cell. “All of you- they said-”

 “And that’s what I thought you’d say,” Techno groans. “Come on, you idiot, I thought you were smarter than this-” 

 “They were right there, Techno!” Dream fires back, eyes alight. “You- they were right there, what were you thinking, they could’ve-!”

 “And my best friend is a necromancer, remember?” Techno shakes his head. “Come on, Dream- Sam and Quackity? You know we can handle them in a fight, especially when you can just revive us if anything goes wrong. You don’t have to do this whole self-sacrifice thing, bro- there’s only so many times I can break into the same prison, y’know.” 

 “You’re so stupid,” Dream huffs, but he leans in anyway, head just barely settling against Techno’s shoulder. “I- I can’t believe. You’re so dumb.” 

 “Hey, don’t be sayin’ that to the guy that’s breakin’ you out of prison,” Techno laughs, slinging Dream over his shoulder with an easy motion and laughing harder when it makes him yelp. “That’s just bein’ ungrateful. You’re making Chat sad, man, and when they’re sad they don’t subscribe-” 

 “I regret this entirely,” Dream says, voice muffled against Techno’s shirt, tone completely flat. “Put me down- you idiot- I’m staying here. You’re worse than Quackity.” 

 “Rude. Now you’ve really made Chat mad. I demand an apology-” 

 “Boys, boys.” Niki can’t help giggling, watching the way their gazes snap towards her, rolling her eyes as she moves forward with a few potions held loosely in her hand. “Dream, do you want a health pot?” 

 Dream seems to deliberate for a second, before nodding at her, expression slightly strained. “...sure.” 

 “You two can finish your argument after we’ve broken out of the biggest maximum security prison on the server,” Phil drawls from behind her, arms crossed at his chest. “Come on, now, before Sam gets back.” 

 “Isn’t this the only maximum security prison on the server?” Techno asks aloud, an amused expression on his face - one that only gets worse when Phil glares at him with one ice-blue eye. 

 “Shut-” he sighs, shaking his head. “You two are chaotic little shits, you know that?”

 “Don’t compare me to him, Phil,” Techno complains, Dream mirroring his words with muffled protests of his own, and Phil breathes another drawn-out, long-suffering sigh as he rubs at the bridge of his nose. 

 “Niki, give us some fire res please?” 

 She finds the potion bottle between giggles, throwing it to the ground as she tries to choke down the laughter rapidly bubbling up her throat. “Of course, Phil.” 

 She looks back at Techno and Dream before jumping into the lava, the two of them once again lost in some sort of argument, Dream draped over Techno’s shoulder. He’s breathing easier now, she notes, and Techno looks looser too - a little less tense, leaning back with a perpetual quirk to the corner of his lip as they fire insults back and forth. This is familiar, she recognizes with a soft twist in her chest, the same way that Phil and Techno can finish each other’s sentences and look at each other with laughing eyes sharing the same memories of the past, the same way Ranboo watches Techno’s every step as he adjusts his stance and lifts his sword and Techno laughs and calls him a main character in turn, the same way she and Phil will settle together on the porch over cups of tea and sit at each other’s sides for hours. The rhythm between them is one well-established, the road well-worn - she imagines them, huddled in this dingy cell for months together, and breathes in slow and deep. 

 “Come on,” she smiles, making sure to keep it on her face when Dream meets her eyes with wide, startled ones of his own. Dream still isn’t an ally, and isn’t a friend. 

 But - she watches as he smiles back, something inexplicably warm in her chest - maybe, one day, he could be.

[legless-fish-on-rollerskates]

All the morons trying to claim that Dean wasn't saying anything to Cas because he was holding back slurs or something equally ridiculous... what show have you been watching? Surely not Supernatural. Like, yeah, Dean had some internalized shit for a while (mostly cause of how he was raised, let's be real), but this isn't season fucking one. Dean's in his goddamn forties now guys.

But you still think Dean Winchester is homophobic? Let's examine the evidence then, shall we?

1. Aaron Bass: Dean was flustered because he's not used to being hit on by dudes, but he was completely respectful. And he was alone, too. It wasn't like he was trying to "hide his homophobia" from Sam. He could've said whatever he wanted in that moment without anyone ever knowing, and he chose to awkwardly walk backward and wish Aaron a nice day. Then later, when they're working with him, Dean says nothing about it (other than a quick "he was my gay thing" to Sam), doesn't make it weird, and talks to him exactly the same way he would talk to anyone else.

2. Jesse and Ceasar: Dean's surprised when he realizes that they're married, again because he's not really used to it and so he made the wrong assumptions (which I will point out is really really normal, it happens all the time even between queer people, because heteronormativity is very much a thing in real life). But what does he do when he finds out? He asks them about their marriage - with genuine curiosity. What's it like to be in a relationship with a hunter, is it hard, all that jazz. Never asks about the fact that they're both men, none of those gross "so who's the woman" questions, literally just. Talking to two married hunters. That's it. Then later, when they're working, he never once questions their capability as hunters or suggests that they're weak in any way. There's no "you're less 'manly' because you're gay" mindset at all. And at the end of the episode he's genuinely happy for them, two hunters who managed to get out of the life and retire together.

There's lots of other examples (several male cops have been obviously into him over the years, his reaction to Jody talking about Claire and Kaia, all the subtext surrounding Lee, etc.) but for my last one for now, let's not forget...

3. Charlie fucking Bradbury: Arguably Dean's best friend besides Cas (no I haven't forgotten about Benny, I love Benny, but he was part of a very specific chapter of Dean's life and that chapter is done). We've known she was a lesbian from the get-go, and Dean takes it in stride when he finds out, immediately improvising to coach her through some painfully awkward flirting so she can get into the office ("you've just come home, and Scarlett Johansson is waiting for you"). And yes, there's the whole "I feel dirty" "yeah so do I" bit there, but that's clearly established as a joke, plus the guy was gross - as someone who is attracted to both women and men, I would feel dirty after flirting with him too.

The next few times we see Charlie, she and Dean are geeks and dweebs together, Dean is having more fun than we've seen in years, and we see him be a really good friend - in some ways, a better friend than he is to Cas. Charlie talks to him a little bit about girls, they LARP, they go shopping together, Dean comforts her when she has to let go of her mom. When she's killed, he gets so upset he goes on a murderous rampage (maybe not the most healthy way to deal with greif, but nonetheless showing how much she mattered to him). When he sees an alternate version of her in trouble he's immediately ready to risk his own life to help her even though she doesn't know him. He loved her like a sister, and he never once expressed any issues with her sexuality.

So let's go back to Cas. Cas is in love with Dean. Not much of a surprise there, he's said it before. But this is the first time Dean understands that that's what he's saying. It makes sense that he's a little stunned, especially considering that Cas is also saying that he's about to die. I mean, if your best friend of twelve years told you one day that they've been in love with you all along, that just knowing you has irrevocably changed them for the better, and that also by the way telling you this means they're going to die, mightn't you be rendered a tad speechless?

Dean does not hate Cas for this. Not at all. Because whether or not Dean is bi, whether or not he reciprocates, Cas is still his best friend. We've seen how hard Dean grieves every time Cas dies. We know how much Cas matters to him. Of all the shit they've put each other through, there's absolutely no logical reason for this to be the thing that damages their friendship beyond repair. Not after everything. No fucking way.

Dean says nothing because he doesn't know what to say, because he's still processing Cas's confession but also already grieving and blaming himself for Cas's death. The way he breaks down at the very end of the episode? That's not a man who's disgusted. That's a man who's shattered.

How dare you try to simplify this incredibly complex and emotional moment into Dean being a dick. How dare you. It's positively insulting. The entire point of Cas's speech was that Dean is so much more than that. If you can't see that, than I'm sorry, but you're missing the whole message of the show.

Supernatural is about family and sacrifice. It's about free will, making your own choices. And it's about being more than just who you're supposed to be, going beyond what other people want or assume. All the depth beneath the surface. That's the show. That's why we're still watching after all this time. Because it means something important. Something relevant. Something real.

Don't you fucking discredit that.

(thank you for coming to my TED talk)

[kashimos-hajime]

dear... whoever | b.b.

summary: a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries. 

WARNINGS: swearing, LOTS of fluff, mentions of drinking and sex and hospitals and guns, general fun and witty attitude, small angst, big jealousy, obviously au after civil war. everything after does not exist. pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 9.5k

a/n: written for @softbiker​ and 100% inspired by @sunmoonandbucky​ with the format. my prompt was let me love you by rita ora and i wrote it from the perspective the singer is singing it to rather than the actual singer. this was super fun to write. enjoy!

July 31/20

Dear…

Whoever is going to read this. So… me, in the future probably. So, it should be dear WHOMever, I think, but it sounds wrong.

Is it too cliché to say dear diary? I don’t know. After all, I don’t WANT to be writing this but unfortunately I am because it’s mandated. Apparently, the psychiatrist that works for Stark Industries thinks it’s necessary that I write down my feelings and show that I’ve adjusted to working part-time superhero, full-time head of Tony’s stupid R&D department.

Something about how that much stress can cause psychotic fractures in the worst case scenario.

Cute.

Anyway, I don’t know what to write. Currently, it’s 4:23AM. The only reason I’m awake is because I have trouble sleeping on the best night. I heard Barnes messing about and because I am the Hermit of the Rec Room Couch (catchy, I know), I can hear him just walking about.

What the hell is he even doing?

To be honest, I’ve never talked to Barnes besides the occasional greetings because he’s the sort to keep to himself, I guess, and, valid. I’m not saying it’s not, considering his history, but you know.

I think I’m a friendly person, and I’m bored. He’s eventually going to hear me writing noisily because of super-soldier hearing or whatever, so I might just get up and introduce myself.

Not that I’ve been working here for years, but whatever.

I’m really bored and hungry, honestly, so a trip to the kitchen would be considered normal (and warranted) in such circumstances.

Fuck it.

Time to make a new friend or die trying. If you never hear from me again, you’ll know why.

.

Aug. 1/20

Dear Jane,

I finally got the time to write in here and you may be wondering why I have named you. Well, after the conversation at roughly 4:30 AM, here are things that’ve changed in a disorganized list. None is more important than the other. I'm just writing what comes to my head.

One: Barnes said he doesn’t really let anyone call him James. I called him James once because I forgot. Profuse apologies followed. He said it was okay and didn’t mind me calling him that. Now, in my mind, I think he’s just saying this to be polite and really just wants me to call him Bucky but he seemed sincere. We’ll see how it goes.

Two: Barnes was awake because his cat woke him up. I didn’t even know he had a cat but it’s a gorgeous white cat named Alpine that Barnes carries around in his half-zipped up hoodies sometimes. It’s adorable. He’s super soft and friendly and I love him already. He showed me all the tricks Alpine could do. Amazing.

Three: Barnes’ favourite movie is the Godfather. Totally surprising there. Please tell me you understand sarcasm.

Four: He said he liked the name Jane when I told him what I was doing up and also in the rec room (couldn’t sleep, writing in my diary) and that I didn’t want to say “Dear diary”

“Why don’t you just give it a name?” he eloquently suggested and Jane was his answer to my question of “Which name?”

Five: Barnes, or James, I guess he is now, is my friend.

Six: We said we’d meet up at 4:30AM or earlier again because I told him I wanted to show him my s’mores dip recipe.

Seven: Wish me luck. Hope I don’t get murdered.

Eight: I think I might be in love with him.

Bye.

.

Aug. 5/20

Dear Jane,

In an effort to summarize what has happened in the past four days, I will open with the fact that James Buchana Barnes is the cutest motherfucker on the planet. He’s super old fashioned, but that’s a given. He opens the doors for me, offers to take my bags up, and in the past four days, we’ve met up at around midnight to just eat and chat. Then he walks me back to my room with a glass of water and I’m left fanning myself because it’s so sweet and he’s so sweet and OH, MY GOD, I am a child.

This feels like a crush. Like, butterflies in my stomach, self-conscious every time he looks at me, can’t stop staring, and wanting to impress him at every turn sort of crush.

AKA, a middle-school crush and I feel completely ridiculous but that is besides the point because he’s just the loveliest person.

Someone should tell him chivalry is dead. Steve thinks he’s just being sweet on me, and Sam says I should flash some ass just to get a rise out of him which would be funny. He’d look absolutely adorable blushing his head off.

We’ll see. I am considering it.

What else happened? I’m drawing a huge blank.

As explained in a previous entry, I was to show Barnes my s’mores dip recipe. Huge success. Crowd loved it. That’s how I learned he has a huge sweet tooth like me. Got an email from Pep about a board meeting which I ignored. If it’s really important, she’ll see me in person. Went swimming with Sam. We started planning Tony’s big Christmas party even though that’s MONTHS away.

But, you know. We’re so busy all the time, it might be worth it planning ahead.

As head of R&D, it’s vital to me that this goes well because they’re fun when they do go well, and a chaotic disaster when they don’t. Also, I have to find a date but details will follow.

I think that’s it.

If there’s more to follow, then I’ll just come back but there really isn’t.

Oh, Alpine found my room. He’s in here right now and he snores. It’s cute, just like his owner.

Okay, goodnight.

.

Aug. 7/20

Dear Jane,

Sam, James, and I went swimming.

Pro of the day: James is ripped and that man was GLISTENING.

Con of the day: I AM STUPID in front of hot ripped men.

Pro of the day: We got ice cream together. Strawberry for me, mango for James because he wants to try new flavours, and Sam ordered some monstrosity with vanilla ice cream, chocolate and raspberry syrups, and a bunch of banana slices. A swirl of whipped cream to finish it off. It looked like diabetes in a cup and that’s coming from me.

Con of the day: James used his thumb to wipe the ice cream off my lip and my brain short-circuited. Sam teased us about it, but James very stubbornly and convincingly said we’re just friends.

Con of the day x2: We are just friends and that is NOT going to change. I cannot explain how much my heart literally fell out of my body in disappointment.

God, and James and I are meeting up at 2AM tonight so he can show me this new stupid stuffed celerey recipe he learned.

It’s not stupid.

It’s really, REALLY cute he researched it.

This sucks.

.

Aug. 11/20

The worst day ever. I don’t want to talk about it but might as well make a note on it. More on it later, I guess.

.

Aug. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry, I’m dramatic. Must get it from working with Tony for so many years.

Let’s just review what occurred on August 11, 2020, at approximately 3:23 in the afternoon.

I learned that James went out on a date. A DATE. From SAM. When James had ample opportunity to tell me at our regular meeting at witching hour over celery sticks.

EXCUSE ME? WHO IS THIS WOMAN?

I’m not even mad. I’m just angry that the man I became friends with only 2 weeks ago and caught feelings immediately for is seeing other people.

I sound like a raging bitch. I promise you, Jane, that I am not. I’m just the insanely jealous type.

No, I’m not.

God, what is happening to me and why does it have to be James.

I never get crushes and the instant I do, it’s for the most emotionally and physically unavailable person ON EARTH.

Also, work was work. I was distracted, drank soup from the canteen, and generally accomplished nothing. Alpine came for some snuggles while James was out. That’s the only good thing.

Thanks, universe.

.

Aug. 16/20

Dear Jane,

So, I brought up this mystery lady over homemade sundaes.

James seems pretty serious about her because he a) apologized for not telling because he wanted to keep it private and asked me not to tell anyone and b) has a second date with her later today.

Oh, GOD. There is no point to this.

.

Aug. 19/20

Dear Jane,

What’s the point of asking someone intimate, personal questions if not because you guys are best friends?

James called me his best friend today. He says he knows me, but if he did, he’d know I feel like throwing up whenever he’s around and that his stare burns through every layer of clothing until I feel like he just knows my secret.

I told him we’ve known each other less than a month, but he said something stupidly charming about “intuition” and feeling and that this feels right and how he knows he can tell me anything and that I was an easy person to talk to.

I should’ve been a shrink.

At least, my trip to Wakanda is going to give me distance. A solid two months of no one else but me, tech, and new faces. Going there to collaborate with Shuri is definitely exciting and taking up more space in my brain than James these days.

Maybe I’ll fall in love with some soldier over there because apparently, I’m catching feelings willy-nilly these days.

See you on the plane, Jane.

.

Aug. 23/20

Dear Jane,

On the quinjet, it’s fairly quiet. It’s one of the things I love about it. The silent yet soft engines that can lull me to sleep. We should be arriving in a few hours so I thought I’d write. I’m getting the hang of this, I think.

There's a press conference later, too, in the trip with the UN and it’s not that I can’t handle it, but that I could’ve done this in my sleep and wished Tony sent someone else. I hate the press, not gonna lie.

Anyway, this gives me time to be introspective.

Is it just me or James always Okay, is it just my imagination that whenever I try to get close to James, he just kinda pulls away? Not in a romantic way. I’m not stealing anyone’s man because girl code, but he won’t even let me just stand near him anymore. It’s like I have an infectious disease only transmitted through physical contact and it’s just weird.

I don’t know.

Before I left, he said he’d miss me and that we should keep in touch through calls (Obviously, I would) and that he hopes I won’t forget him.

So, you say those things but you won’t even let me even hug you?

You’re a manipulative asshole, Barnes.

.

Oct. 20/20

Dear Jane,

I am so sorry that it has taken so long for us to reunite.

In hindsight, I’m a fucking idiot.

I left you on the quinjet which went back to New York and a different quinjet came to pick me up. I came back like two days ago so these past few days have been spent searching for you.

James offered to help, and he seems normal again.

Weird. Guess he was just in a mood with the new girlfriend and adjusting to having me as a friend, too. Guys go through that, I guess.

In Wakanda, I did not, in fact, fall in love with a soldier or anything. I curse every day that I didn’t, trust me. I’m just as disappointed as you are because I just want to get over this stupid crush. For the two months I was gone, it was like I didn’t like James at all like that. Even during calls, I could pretend we were just two teammates keeping each other in the loop. He talked about his girlfriend, I listened, I explained science because he’s a nerd, and he asked questions like he was interested.

It was FINE.

Then, he was waiting for me when I came back to NYC and it slammed into me like Bruce in Hulk-mode.

James asked if I wanted to meet his girlfriend because she’d be coming around for the Halloween party anyway, and he thinks we’ll get along swimmingly.

He really said swimmingly. He is stuck in the wrong era, but we all knew that.

I said yes, to be polite.

Here’s to hoping she’s a vindictive bitch and I am justified in hating her entire being.

.

Oct. 22/20

Dear Jane,

I met her. She’s small and pretty and mature and normal.

If I wasn’t stupidly in my feelings about James, I’d love her, too. 

She’d treat him right, give him a good home to come back to.

Best not to notice the people fighting beside you in that way, I guess.

.

Oct. 25/20

Dear Jane,

God is dead and NO ONE has eyes on the road.

Jesus isn’t even taking the wheel on this one.

It’s a fucking disaster.

I do not want to describe in every little detail the intricacies of dreaming about James Buchanan Barnes fucking my brains out, so I won’t, but this is for the record that it happened and how the fuck am I supposed to come back and see him in his probably gorgeous attempt at his recreation of Brendan Fraser from the Mummy AKA my favourite movie (which HE KNOWS THAT IT IS?? GOD, the audacity.)

Girlfriend (his girlfriend. “Girlfriend” is the name which she shall be henceforth known as in these entries because petty wins are all I have right now) is dressing as Rachel Weisz. Because “couples goals” or whatever.

I wouldn’t know. Sam and I are dressed up as sexy salt and pepper shakers (his idea, not mine) and he made me take the salt stick because I think he knows. Steve’s not dressing up because he’s more focused on handing out candy as Captain America.

Tony is… Tony. Iron Man and all that.

Anyway, I’m out of town in DC for a meeting with the Secretary of State for a few days, but I’ll be back in New York on the 30th so I’ll have a few hours to adjust to being around James again before he dons on that outfit that I know will be totally hot.

He called me his best friend again in his latest email.

Made me smile like an idiot, but I digress.

.

Nov. 1/20

Dear Jane,

Halloween was killer. Sam and I won best duo for costumes because we’re that good. Ate a lot of candy and it seems to be looking up.

I dunno. I didn’t mind James and Girlfriend on the couch that much in the after-party. Mostly stuck by Nat and Sharon and Tony. An ood trio, but a fun one nonetheless.

It was fun, but I still have to go to work no matter how many jello shots and vodka gummy bears consumed.

Wish me luck, not that I need it.

Why do you think Tony hired me?

.

Nov. 4/20

Dear Jane.

Natasha said I smile at James in a way that utterly betrays every emotion I want to hide in my chest.

Note to self: Don’t smile at James, or at his jokes, or at anything he ever does again. Avoid him. Put a stopper on this friendship.

Note to note to self: I can’t. He just makes me smile whenever he’s around and he’s always around. There’s no simpler way to put it.

I’m gonna try this hiatus thing, though. Distance myself a bit. We’ll see how it goes.

.

Nov. 13/20

Dear Jane,

Day nine of this hiatus business and it sucks. I miss my best friend.

We’re scheduled for a mission together, and we’re leaving tomorrow so I was going to have to talk to him during the briefing and the op either way.

Well, glad to know this didn’t work.

.

Nov. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Guess who just got fucking shot!

ME!

Guess even scumbags can’t take a holiday because some stupid arms dealer got a cheap shot on me while I was downloading their whole computer system and other tech mumbo-jumbo I am too high to write about.

James left a few hours ago with the rest of the team, but not before he got me a bunch of ice chips and said he was worried and that he hopes I get better soon. He even promised to get me some flowers to spruce up the room and to say my HEART went CRAZY is an understatement.

He came to my rescue, essentially, as soon as he heard I got pinned. He carried me to the quinjet the instant he cleared the area and stayed by my side the whole time even though the bleeding stopped and I was in good hands. He was just so protective, barking at doctors and nurses. It was embarrassing but also really, really sweet.

Is it weird of me to say that I want him to stay by my side forever? 

I’ve never fallen in love before.

Is it always this fast and this hard? I feel like I’m crashing instead of gently and wonderfully falling. Everything is dumb and awful.

Is this what love is like? Because it hurts worse than getting shot because I think I’m going to vomit flowers or butterflies or something.

God, he’d never love me. We’re just friends and even though we have a lot in common, he’d never. It’s just too much of the past in the present or whatever.

Also, he has a girlfriend but it seems very surface-level. God, that makes me sound like a “one of the boys” type of girl who’s a bitch to one of the boy’s new girlfriends, but I don’t know. James told me they don’t really talk about the deep stuff like we do. But she makes him happy, I think.

In hindsight, one may ask what the deep stuff is.

More on that later. I’m tired.

God, why him?

I HATE THIS.

goodnight.

.

Nov. 16/20

Dear Jane,

James visited again today. He sat beside me and we talked until the nurses had to kick him out. He also brought the flowers.

I asked about Girlfriend casually. I said I liked her.

He said he did, too.

I don’t know why I think he’s lying. No, I do.

It’s because jealousy is the green-eyed bitch from highschool who still shows up in my life because she thinks she’s relevant to society.

That was mean. Unrequited love makes you mean. Side effect noted.

P.S. The deep stuff includes his past, his arm, his memory, his favourite colour. I dunno why that matters. It just does.

.

Nov. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Got out of the hospital today because of advanced technology and all that. Nothing’s left but a scar and residual soreness. James helped me to my room and said to call him if I had a problem.

I joked that he has a girlfriend and for some reason, he got really weird about it. It’s hard to describe. I dunno. Nat dropped by for popcorn and movies.

It’s 2:32AM. I’m wondering if he’s in the kitchen but I’m confined to bed rest so I don’t know. Also, Nat is asleep beside me and I don’t want to bother her.

Hopefully I can get up and move in a few days. Life is boring.

.

Nov. 24/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry we haven’t caught up in a moment. Work’s been hectic and I’ve been working overtime trying to make ends meet. Most days I’m in the office or lab, just trying to get enough things done so I can take time off come Christmas.

James stopped by tonight with Chinese takeout and some sweet buns.

He broke up with his girlfriend, too.

Guess that’s why he was being weird about it.

I tried being as casual as I could asking why, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I asked why he came by. Couldn’t be for the company because when I’m in work mode, I just don’t talk and he knows that.

He said something about his arm feeling funny so I gave it a quick diagnostics check.

I think both of us knew his arm was feeling fine.

Everything is stupid, life is meaningless, and James’ lips are the prettiest shade of pink in the ugly lights of the lab.

I would very much like to have kissed him, but I didn’t.

Girl code.

It’ll probably be a while before I get another chance to actually have time and energy to write another diary entry. Christmas season’s coming close and Pepper is gonna need help with the party.

Yay, me.

.

Dec. 4/20

Dear Jane,

Morgan asked me in less eloquent words if I had a boyfriend (it was more like “You boyfriend?” But whatever. Who even taught her that word?) and I swear to GOD Nat could not make it anymore obvious looking at James.

Remind me to absolutely throttle her. I don’t care if she’s the infamous Black Widow. She has clearly never seen me hopped up on nothing but a negative amount of sleep and rage/embarrassment/spite/all of the above.

On another note, Pep asked if I was bringing a plus one for the party. I said I’d think about it. Normally I’d just take Sam but he has his eyes on someone at the VA and I like my friends getting laid so no go there.

Might just go alone. I don’t know.

Pep said I should take James, but I don’t really think she knows the truth about that situation. Luckily, Tony instantly rejected the idea and said he’d find me a date if I couldn’t.

Thank the universe for at least placing me in the close circle of the most well-known and richest man in the world because he also gave me his card and said go wild.

He knows me so well. I’m thinking about Christmas shopping when I have another free day, and I’ll pay for that with my own money, of course, but clothes shopping is a free market.

I cannot wait.

.

Dec. 12/20

Dear Jane,

I wish I could show you my haul, but I got so much stuff Happy had to drive to help me. Besides obvious gifts, I also managed to snag a gorgeous dress for the party.

Thoughts on black and gold?

I think it’s beautiful. Hopefully Nat and Sharon think so. We’re having a girls night tonight and showing off outfits, so that’s exciting.

James asked if we could meet up tonight.

I told him I had plans and he looked so downcast.

I dunno. Everything feels weird between us. Like we’re fine, we’re best friends still, but something’s changed when no one was looking. He’s single now. I guess that energy is different because I had gotten used to his energy with ex-Girlfriend.

I don’t exactly mind but it’s not ideal either. I miss summer. It’s much less complicated than winter. Winter, one has to worry about wind and chills and snows blocking roads, black ice, dry skin, freezing fingers.

Summer: there’s just a lot of sun, wind, bugs, and the vaguest notion of being bored.

Look, I love winter. It’s my favourite season. It’s quiet and gorgeous and dreamy, even though it gets dreary in New York. The snow falls slowly sometimes, Christmas is gorgeous here, and I’d rather be cold than sweating buckets, and there are no bugs to bother me. Also, it gives me a good reason to stay in the labs or in my room where it’s warm and toasty.

I just miss the relative simplicity when James and I were just strangers on the edge of being friends, which is, in retrospect, a selfish reason to like one season and hate another.

Well, some philosopher somewhere probably said something about humanity being selfish.

.

Dec. 16/20

Dear Jane,

T-minus nine days until the party.

No date in sight.

Maybe I’ll ask Anderson from HR. We had coffee together a few times and he’s nice. Good catch: smart, not too bad looking, and really nice. I’ll head down tomorrow and ask.

Alpine had purred when I told him my plan and headbutted my hand, so I guess I got the Alpine-Seal-of-Approval.

.

Dec. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Operation: Ask Anderson from HR to Tony’s Christmas Party failed. Granted, it could’ve been because that was a god awful title and that that name, in itself, prophesied catastrophic failure, but also because I was accosted by my best friend.

I wish I meant Sam.

Nope. James caught me in the elevator and we made small talk. Sounds fine, right? Then we turned the topic to the party. Talked about clothes and prospective celebrity appearances and drinks and food. Just about everything, so might as well turn to talks about dates, which meant I had to explain why I was in the elevator in the first place.

Going down to ask Anderson ended in James revealing that he didn’t have a date either.

He doesn’t know who Anderson is, which I thought would be the case, and he popped the question before the doors opened.

Notice how I said “didn't” have a date.

Guess who’s going to the party with James, clearly stated as friends, platonic soulmates, etc.?

Me.

Yippee.

.

Dec. 18/20

Dear Jane,

It’s 3:42AM and I’m in the rec room as usual. I was gonna not write here today but it normally helps me sleep to just write a bit, get what little thoughts are in my head out. Yeah.

I hear James in the kitchen talking to Alpine and it’s making me smile like an idiot.

Oh, shit, he knows I’m in here. He’s making milkshakes.

I am morally obligated by best friend duties to join him.

Goodnight, Jane.

.

Dec. 24/20

Dear Jane,

I’m not sleeping with James Buchanan Barnes tomorrow night.

This is a resolute promise. An early New Year’s resolution.

.

Dec. 25/20

Dear Jane,

Merry Christmas! 

In between jovial festivities, I’ve finally found a little nook that’s quiet enough to write in. We opened presents, had a big family breakfast, went skating and just lounged around, and frankly, I’m exhausted. Need to recharge the old social battery.

Among the assortment of gifts is one that stands out to me. James got me a gift that said “Open When Alone” and I did before I started this entry and it was a fucking necklace. Like, a gorgeous one. It’s gold and thin and it feels wonderful. There’s a little cat paw charm on it and it’s so pretty because he has a matching bracelet for himself and I have still not yet recovered.

It’s just so sweet and it reminds me why I love him.

Yes, love has made me unbelievably sappy. I just heaved the biggest sigh in history.

Unfortunately, I have to go earlier tonight. To the party, as written in previous entries. I remember my oath of one-night celibacy and I intend on keeping it, despite how fucking endearing this gift was, because he said it best: we’re just friends. I’m not about to coerce my best friend into sleeping with me out of a piteous, unrequited love. That’s just gross.

You will either see me hungover tomorrow, or very drunk later tonight. It’s all very depending on how this night turns out.

.

Dec. 26/20

Dear Jane,

Fuck.

P.S. He REALLY does not mind me calling him James. Take that as dirtily or as clandestinely as you wish.

.

Dec. 27/20

Dear Jane,

I spent the entire day in bed with very pleasurable company.

I am SO GLAD we haven’t gotten called in because James doesn’t leave unless to go to sleep in his own bed or to eat, and I do NOT want to explain to the team that James fucked my brains out for two days straight because my heart is bursting.

He’s a good kisser. His lips are soft.

Intimate knowledge of that is now burned into my memory for future reference.

God, this is a dream come true. He doesn’t even question it, he just

It’s like I’m a goddess to him. He treats me like one, at least, and it’s like he’ll do anything I ask. And we act like it’s normal, too. Midnight trips to the kitchen included.

Best Christmas ever.

.

Dec. 28/20

Dear Jane,

I feel like I’m ignoring you but I’m also having the best sex of my life. He’s just… so fucking good and it’s a holiday and holy shit my mind is blown.

Love at first meeting isn’t real.

Well, maybe this one time, it was destiny.

.

Dec. 29/20

Dear Jane,

It isn’t just the sex, you know? It’s the pillowtalk, too. He just makes me laugh so much and everything is so easy between us and it feels real. Popcorn and chips in bed, some mojitos, just each other’s presence. It’s enough like that, you know?

Some quote about how the one you love should be both your lover and your best friend is in my head but I’m too lazy to look it up. James’ head is in my lap and he’s just reading while I’m writing and everything seems perfect.

He doesn’t ask what I’m writing because he knows it’s private and I trust him.

This is perfect.

I think I really am IN love with him.

.

Jan. 1/21

You know that cliché/tradition of New Year’s kisses?

WELL THEN.

Best (and worst) New Year’s ever. I’ll explain more later. I’m too tired and too angry and also sore and bruised.

See you when I’m not hungover.

.

Jan. 5/21

Dear Jane,

I’m finally stable enough to write.

In a crazy turn of events, Barnes and I got into a fight because of what happened after New Year’s Day’s events: I caught him leaving before I woke up and at first, curious questions ensued, and it wasn’t a fight but then it became one and I don’t even know how it happened. I wasn’t even mad. He just started being weird and I got annoyed and we tried and failed to keep our voices down. Luckily, my room is pretty soundproof.

Things just got out of hand and I feel like tearing my hair out. I wanna storm up to him and just yell some more.

Tony came into my room and didn’t say shit about my hickies and the fact that James is avoiding me like the plague. He gave me a really good hug, though and then gave me a few weeks off extra. I don’t know how he knows, but then again, it’s Tony.

He just said love’s tough sometimes.

Yeah, tell me about it.

I��m thinking about just taking a long vacation and disappearing. It seems like a good route to take at this point.

.

Jan. 6/21

Dear Jane,

James is looking at me right now as I write this. I wonder if I should look back or if he’s going to come up to me. We’ll see.

I’m only writing this so it seems like I’m busy. I’m running out of things to say, honestly. Can he just go? What’s the point in staring like that? What’s the point?

I could ask myself the same question. What’s the point in loving someone who’ll never love you? Yeah, he’s sleeping with me but he pulls away every time I try to do something more. Outside the bubble of my room and the small time frame of post-11PM to around 4:45AM, he acts like he’s allergic to intimacy.

It was never like that with ex-Girlfriend.

Maybe it’s something to do with me.

I don’t know, but he keeps looking and I want to get up and leave, but I won’t. I’m not gonna let him win.

.

Jan. 6/21

He didn’t. He just went out. Sam and Steve asked if I was okay because as soon as he left, I got up for the bathroom and screamed into a towel.

I don’t think either of them knows what’s going on, but they have a notion.

.

Jan. 9/21

Dear Jane,

He apologized. Still no explanation as to why, but it feels weird.

I told him I’m going on a vacation to Switzerland. Go skiing or something and asked if he wanted to come.

It was stupid to ask, but he said yes.

Shit.

.

Jan. 14/21

Dear Jane,

Switzerland is lovely.

No work is relaxing. Awkwardness between me and the other traveller on this vacation. Weather’s supposed to be nice when we get there. Sunny snow days, pretty mountains, other Swiss things.

No other comment.

.

Jan. 21/21

Dear Jane,

I lasted all of a week.

Yep, I slept with him again, and yes, he was back in his hotel bed come sunrise.

I dunno. I’m over it. We don’t apologize and hope everything gets back to normal because neither of us want to say anything to ruin it any further and we both have a major fear of the complicated. To be fair, he said he didn’t want to sleep with me if I was completely against it.

Also, I tried calling him Bucky at dinner like ex-Girlfriend (and everyone else) does and he made the most disgusted face.

He said, and I quote, “Bucky? When did I stop being James?”

I told him I was trying something out and he said it failed. Snarky bastard.

I guess if he’s still James, that must mean I’m still special.

That’s the Tony-inherited ego talking.

But it does make me exceptionally happy to play with the idea that I’m special to him. Best friend with convoluted benefits. Sounds like the title of a very long-winded self-help book that doesn’t really help much but that does sound like the story of my life so I can’t complain too much.

We’re going home in a few days.

I’ll probably sleep with him again. Bet Steve’s shield that I do.

.

Jan. 24/21

Dear Jane,

I get three Steve’s shields because I was right every single fucking day.

He’s like a habit I can’t quite kick and don’t really want to.

We snuggled afterwards last night. His arm was around my shoulders, we were naked, I was resting my head on his chest. For a moment, it felt like something couples do and then I fell asleep and woke up alone.

Quantum physics is easier to understand than this but I think we’re being mutually exclusive right now, so it’s almost dating.

I dunno. I don’t mind it anymore. It’s better than nothing.

.

Feb. 2/21

Dear Jane,

I’m absolutely miserable.

I’m still getting laid, but that’s not related. Correlation and causation or something.

Why is New York so dreary and when can everything just stop?

I don’t know. Winter is ending and now it’s in that awful transition phase between seasons and it’s mucky and rainy and disgusting. Tony got these limited edition ice cream flavours though so I’m gonna ask James if we can make milkshakes out of them or something.

He doesn’t like the muck either. That’s not really relevant, I guess.

.

Feb. 14/21

Dear Jane,

I got flowers and chocolate from the department because I think they can sense I’ve been in a bad mood since forever. Then, there was an anonymous delivery and inside was this gorgeous chain bracelet that matches the necklace sort of. I lied and told the department it was from Pepper.

What a wretched holiday.

Yours truly.

.

Feb. 18/21

Dear Jane,

Normally, when boys get their haircut, they look ugly for a day or two after.

Not James.

He got his hair cut shorter and he looks really good. Like unbelievably good. Short hair fits him just as much as long hair does.

No other observations.

.

Feb. 25/21

Dear Jane,

It was Morgan’s birthday party today. James came in one of those brown jackets with the sheepskin wool inside and he looked so good. We mainly stayed apart to prevent any dalliance because one does not disappear from the Madame Secretary’s birthday party and the team doesn’t really know what’s happening behind the scenes except for Nat and Tony, really.

I really wanted to kiss him in front of our friends. I caught him staring a few times, and every time, the smile seemed to vanish off his face.

I’m lying in bed and it feels pretty empty.

It occurs to me that I’ve been in love for a pretty long time and I’m not even in a relationship with the guy.

Energy could’ve been devoted to so many other things and I’d hate being in love if it weren’t for the fact that it’s James.

Again, love making me sappy and all that.

.

Feb. 28/21

Dear Jane,

Jane is such a common name. Some would call it plain yet it means gift from God.

I wonder if James knew that.

.

Mar. 10/21

Dear Jane,

It’s James’ birthday. Birthday sex is a requirement and a desire. I also got him a gift which is a pair of new black Timbs. I hope he likes them. I’m excited for cake, I guess. Morgan did my makeup but I’m gonna have to wipe it off for the small little party tonight.

I think, ordinarily, I’d be in knots because it’s James’ birthday and I love him and he’s my best friend, but I just don’t know. March is fairly boring and contemplative and rainy. Work is work. Helen Cho did a presentation on her Cradle technology. Very cool.

.

Mar. 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s raining and doesn’t feel like spring. Alpine vomited on my bed a few days ago because he’s not feeling well. James and I took him to the vet and he’s on antibiotics. Poor boy. He’s sleeping in the corner of my room right now while James is away on a mission. I think I’ll just work from my room for a bit until he’s feeling better.

Nothing much to report, which is why I didn’t write anything. The month passed by too quickly. James should be back by the end of the month. I miss him and not because of the sex. No one else who doesn’t work for me or pays me listens to me ramble on their own free will. Talking to screens just isn’t the same.

.

April 1/21

James got back really early this morning and I, by tradition, was awake. I sort of wish I wasn’t though. In true April Fool’s tradition, I made fun of him for being a day late to which he genuinely apologized. I told him to shower and get to sleep but he was in that mood where you’re so exhausted you’re wide awake.

James suggested we make really strong cocktails for each other as a celebration for an extraction mission completed successfully.

Who am I to say no to celebrating?

He really likes grapefruit juice so I made a REALLY strong Grapefruit Paloma. He made this really interesting drink that was purple and tasted like oranges and cranberries. A lot of blue curacao was in it so it was pretty bitter but it hit like a fucking truck which is probably why I didn’t understand anything he said at first.

He told me he loved me.

I think, somehow, he managed to get drunk after the Grapefruit Paloma and two more bottles of vodka. Don’t ask me how because Steve NEVER gets drunk. Maybe HYDRA-brand serum is faulty? I don’t know.

I asked if he knew what date it was. He laughed really loudly, said no, realized, stuttered apologies and then said it again.

It was the most perfect sound in the world and it was the best moment in recent history.

Or, the sickest practical joke.

Consensus not yet reached.

.

April 2/21

Dear Jane,

I asked if he remembered what happened yesterday morning.

He did not.

Sickest practical joke confirmed.

.

April 9/21

Dear Jane,

I’ve been avoiding writing because I’ve felt a whole lot of nothing. Everything is abysmal and James’ confession is all I can think about. Tony’s on my ass about slipping and he has half the mind to put me on paid leave until I get my shit together, both as the head of the department and as an agent.

Drunk words are sober thoughts, all that garbage.

I wish I could live my whole life drunk and honest. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation where I’m stuck in eternal limbo with my best friend whom I’m in love with. Minus the drunk part.

Duty demands I return to this weathered journal until it’s finished so we’ll see. I might be back this month. Maybe not.

.

May 1/21

Dear Jane,

It rained a lot in April so now the flowers are blooming early. April showers bring May flowers. Guess it has some merit to it.

Limbo sucks. Its inescapable nature, its terrible facade of everything seeming fine when it really isn’t.

Of course, James still makes me smile, but nothing seems really okay when I let myself stop for a second.

I’m going out with Steve to a charity thing tomorrow. Should be a few hours worth of not thinking and free booze. Oh, and James and I made out in one of the quinjets after dinner today.

Felt weird considering we aren’t a couple, but it happened spontaneously as that is the nature of our relationship, it appears.

The cause also happens to be the cure of melancholy. Weird.

.

May 6/21

Dear Jane,

For context, it’s 5:23AM.

Went for a walk in Madison Square and then Central Park with James yesterday, although in my head it’s still today. We met up with Nat for some training at the gym. Got a bit mobbed by fans and the paps who asked if we were dating like we’re the tabloid’s biggest scoop.

We weren’t even holding hands, but I guess it’s just another reason why we shouldn’t be TOGETHER together in public.

We had another deep stuff talk again in bed after the usual business. I wanted to ask what this is between us and if he’s pursuing other options, because I’m not and I wanted to know if I should, but I also didn’t want to ruin the vibe.

He was in a good mood today, and seeing as sometimes he has nightmares, I thought it was best I don’t ruin it. He thinks I don’t notice but how do I not notice? He’s my best friend.

I kissed his cheek when he got up to leave and he kissed me goodbye on the lips.

I guess that means something.

.

May 17/21

Dear Jane,

In a moment of complete boredom, I listened to Imagine Dragons’ new album. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest, but Sharon thought it could’ve been better. Whatever.

.

May 22/21

Dear Jane,

Ran into ex-Girlfriend today. She still has that whole sunshine thing going on still. We had coffee and she asked if I got together with James yet.

I choked on my coffee and nearly died on the spot.

That’s how I learned that James apparently broke it off softly and ex-Girlfriend had, very wisely and knowingly, said that he should chase the apple of his eye before I (the apple) rotted alone and forgotten at the trunk of the tree. Or, as any sane person would say (and ex-Girlfriend DID say), get picked from the tree by another hand.

She said it was quite obvious that I was in love with James even months ago. She also thanked me for being so nice, anyway, and that it must’ve been difficult. What a fucking SAINT.

I set her up with a date with Steve because they have the same energy, honestly, and that’s going down on the 26th barring any emergencies.

Call me Cupid, but I think I just constructed the perfect match made in heaven.

Mentioned this meeting to James minus the apple detail. He asked if she was doing okay, which she was, and seemed glad for that. Between kisses and his sneaking hand beneath the covers, he also asked if there was anything else. Not really much to say on that front.

.

June 3/21

Dear Jane,

It’s starting to dry up consistently, now. It’s getting warmer, too. Sam brought me flowers and told me to at least turn the air-con on if I was gonna be stuck in the lab all day. Oh, the simplicities of summer are hopefully returning. Got out early and hung out with Morgan at the park in the evening.

It’s nice to hang out with someone so blissfully unaware with the stupidity of love. All Morgan cares about is grass and buttercups she grabs from the ground. She doesn’t have to worry about how to tell the guy she’s in love with that she loves him.

Oh, didn’t you hear? Nat said I should just buck the fuck up and tell him.

And Nat is scary when not listened to.

Much to brainstorm about.

.

June 14/21

Dear Jane,

Just here to brainstorm some ideas for future Stark Industries projects and thought I’d preface it with a small diary entry. Nothing really happened. Work’s catching up for some reason and bad guys are acting up. I’ve pulled a few all nighters, not gonna lie.

Really tired, but in a good, productive way. Haven’t thought much on the James front. Gonna have to focus on that after everything calms down.

.

June 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s officially summer and yet today was awful with only subtle hints of being okay.

So much for simplicity.

In the evening, I read on the hammock on the balcony. No one really bothered me except James, but he’s never a bother.

Steve and ex-Girlfriend (who will now be reidentified as Girlfriend) are pretty cute, and she meshes well with the group. There’s nothing really awkward between her, James, or me, so I guess two people’s summers are going well. Bully for them.

Didn’t really eat. Was too busy working. James got me dinner. Didn’t feel right and just kept working. This whole agreement between us has been very flexible but we really need to fit in a session soon.

I’ll make it work somehow.

.

June 22/21

Dear Jane,

I got my wish and didn’t at the same time. We spent the whole day in the sheets (very blissfully relaxing) and I, stupidly and with very little sleep, let it slip.

In less elegant terms, I told him I loved him. It felt very real and genuine and very-out-of-a-movie, but his reaction was less so.

What did I say? Allergic to intimacy.

He tried to play it off as best friends and even that was uncomfortable, but I, very seriously and very foolishly, corrected him that “no, James Buchanan Barnes, I am IN LOVE with you.”

He left a few minutes ago, saying something about heading down to the gym, but I know he’s just trying to avoid me.

God, how am I so stupid?

.

June 25/21

Dear Jane,

I haven’t seen James in a few days. I thought he was avoiding me but turns out he’s out of the country. Something about protection for whatever dignitary is travelling at the end of the month. I don’t know.

I wasn’t assigned to that op so the details weren’t shared liberally. Sam just said it’d be a while during the ambassador’s entire stay. High threat level which is why the Avengers were contracted.

I just hope he stays safe. I know he probably took off to take his mind off things, but I don’t know how he’s focusing when all I can think of is those three little words.

I love you.

Seems so fake the more I hear it in my head, but his reaction was so real that I think I might’ve just irreversibly messed things up.

.

July 12/21

Dear Jane,

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks. If future me finds this with blotted words, it’s because I am indeed crying while writing this.

James was medically evac’ed last night and transferred back to New York. Helen Cho was flown in from her medical conference in Minnesota where she was showcasing the newest version of the Cradle.

There was an assasination attempt and James is fucked up bad.

Holy shit, I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It’s like an invisible demon has my heart in his claw-like hands and he’s squeezing with all his might. I think my heart might explode.

I just want to hold his hand but he’s so high risk no one’s allowed to see him right now.

The waiting room is too quiet. Steve’s holding on to Girlfriend’s hand so hard I think her bones are broken but she’s taking it like a champ. Nat’s pacing, slowly patting a sleeping Morgan who she’s carrying. Sam and Tony are talking about stuff.

It’s too quiet.

I’m so scared.

.

July 13/21

They got him into the Cradle. Thank God. I think I might cry some more out of relief, but he was conscious for a few minutes earlier and he’s stable now.

It’s really late at night but they extended privileges to me to stay with him so I’m just sitting here, writing. Listening to the Cradle do its thing and the monitors do theirs.

When he was conscious, I was with him. He said some stuff under his breath but the one thing I could make out was “I’m an idiot.”

Granted, he’s right. It was supposed to be Steve or Tony on that mission. You know, people with more defense op experience, but he had to go out and volunteer himself.

I feel sort of guilty.

It’s partially my fault, isn’t it?

I think I’ll try to tuck in for tonight. I wanna be awake when he wakes up, too.

.

July 14/21

Dear Jane,

James woke up today. He’s still in the Cradle (lots of internal damage spread throughout the body) but he’s conscious. He saw me and immediately tried to sit up which was sweet, but when he couldn’t, he just told me to come closer and then told me that he loved me.

I called him an idiot for running away. I told him he really scared me. I told him that I loved him so fucking much. I told him that I feel so guilty and he just held my face and said that it will never be my fault.

He’s so fucking romantic, even when he’s lying down with a wound being stitched closed live in front of my eyes.

Oh, and he kissed me. I don’t think I noticed how much I actually missed him until that moment.

I don’t know how to describe the feeling in my chest. It’s a mixture between super happy and super scared and super, super warm inside. Summer might be looking up.

.

July 18/21

Dear Jane,

We got home today. James is staying in my room. The team doesn’t say anything about it. We’re best friends, after all, but I think they’ve known for a long time that there’s something more. Some of them are just too polite to say so.

I won’t have much time to write over the next couple of days. James has to be kept on a strict, extremely healthy diet and medicine regime.

I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s home.

He’s kissing me a lot more, now. Alpine likes the fact that his two humans are now in the same room. He purrs so loudly, I can hear him from where he’s dozing, curled up underneath James’ chin. He (James) is resting after his second round of antibiotics for the day while I work from my room, and sometimes I catch myself looking back just to make sure he’s okay.

I’m going to go kiss him now.

Be right back.

.

July 21/21

Dear Jane,

It’s almost Nat’s birthday (the 26th). Super exciting. James is back on solids and I’m helping him around with walking. Even with the Cradle and the healing factor, he’s still super banged up, so it’s better safe than sorry.

We had a really long talk about love and stuff. It’s good to finally have it out in the open. It was mostly me talking about my side of things and he just nodded a lot. I know he was listening though.

We also kissed a lot, like seventeen year old couples who are heavy on the PDA, but within the privacy of my room. I dunno. I like the heat of his arms and the way he kisses the shell of my ear when he’s bored or it’s a commercial break.

It feels very natural.

I am very much in love with him.

I tell him that and he always looks skeptical, but whatever. He doesn’t have to say it back (I tell him that there’s no pressure) and he’ll get it through his thick skull eventually that he’s now stuck with me.

.

July 25/21

Dear Jane,

We made cookies in the early AM as tradition for the party tomorrow and I told him that I love him (again, but this time he didn’t run, nor has he the past few times. Fantastic).

While the cookies were baking, he explained everything on his side of the story: how he was scared to be vulnerable, how opening up to me is just different and new and scary and I get it. I really do. I know how it feels to think you don’t deserve good things and sabotage feels like the only way to save everyone from hurt.

He smiled a lot more after that. I guess he’s just glad I get it.

One day, I’ll successfully convince James that he deserves everything good this world has to offer.

Until then, I’ll just keep trying.

P.S. He said, with less hesitation than the first time, that he loves me, too. Best. Day. Ever.

P.P.S. The cookies are so good and I want to devour them all. I could barely stop James from eating all of them. Again: Best. Day. Ever.

.

July 26/21

Dear Jane,

In summary of today:

Happy birthday, Natasha.

James has been given the clear bill of health which is exciting. Also, I asked him about the Jane and gift of God thing.

He knew. “Intuition” and all that. He also said I looked “like a royal dame” in my swimsuit. Smug idiot just trying to be charming.

I love him and that’s the only reason it works.

Back to the festivities.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

Good morning to you and to James who’s still in my bed at a ripe 6:23AM, fast asleep.

Progress. Now, back to sleep.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

It’s now 9:49AM and James greeted me with orange juice and waffles. He said I was cute when I slept. Creep.

He also said he tried so many times to stay in my bed after, before we were like we are now, but he never could, and now he’s upset that he missed out on my cute sleeping/waking up for the day face every time he did so.

He is exceptionally cute when he’s pouting.

I think we’re officially boyfriend-girlfriend, but we’ll work out the semantics on that later. For now, it’s another summer day together. He suggested Chinese takeout for dinner because I have to go dip back into the lab later today to check on some samples.

I agreed and he kissed me in promise like it was our “thing.” I can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

Massive progress.

.

July 28/21

Dear Jane,

He told me I was the only one for him.

Also, he kissed me in front of our friends for the first time. Natasha yelled “FINALLY” and pushed us into the pool. Sam laughed and then I grabbed him and threw him into the pool. Ensuing: a water fight for the ages.

For a day: 10/10

.

July 31/21

Hey Jane,

I think I’m happy.

I’m sorry I ever doubted the effects of writing down my feelings.

James has a romantic trip to uptown planned for our first date and he said it’ll take the whole day so I thought I’d get this entry in the morning. I dunno. It’s really early and the happy thought was the first thing that came to my head.

Weird, but it’s a good weird.

See you in a bit.

[dcforts]

fix it fic. 15.20 spoilers 1.5k. ao3

The reaper they send looks at him with compassion. It’s not anyone he knows.

“Welcome, Dean,” she says, “Are you ready to move on?”

Dean blinks, looks back at where he was a second ago, where Sam is still hunched over his lifeless body.

He says, “No, my brother – first I need to make sure he’s gonna be alright.”

She smiles reassuringly and tells him, “He will be.”

But Dean insists, says, “Look, you don’t know me, but I know your boss -”

“I know you, Dean. But without Chuck, things have changed. You’re just like everyone else now.”

Right, no Billie anymore. Just an old regular Death that doesn’t care about him.

“Yeah, well, then let me stick around awhile. As a ghost or something,” he looks back once again at Sam, carrying his body out of the barn, “After everything I did. I'm just asking for this,” he begs. “It won’t be long. Just- just give me a day.”

She accepts.

*

So he sees his funeral.

There’s Jody, and Donna, by Sam’s side. There are the girls, tears streaked faces and broken voices. Kaia doesn’t leave Claire’s side the whole time. Garth is there too, Charlie with Stevie and a whole bunch of hunters he met down the literal road. It’s an impressive turn up, if he’s being honest.

Dean has always thought about how his funeral would look like. Before Sam, he thought his body would just rot away in some abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere, forgotten. He’d hated that. Later, he’d pictured his brother lighted by the fire of his pyre, alone and miserable. He’d hated that even more.

But things had changed and he’d changed and he’d let people in and fought to hold on to them and to do right by them. And he is proud of what he’s done for them and for the whole world; he wouldn’t change a thing. His life had been a difficult one, but he’d known love and family and that was the important part.

Now they are there, saying thank you and goodbye. And he realizes, he was silly to worry about Sam not being alright. Of course he’s going to be alright. He can see it in the way he gets shepherd to the car, fussed over, held, in the way Eileen never lets go of his hand.

So when the reaper comes again and asks “Are you ready, Dean?”, he says, “Yeah, we can go now.”

*

It’s only fair Bobby is the one to welcome him. He hugs him and Dean breathes in car oil and gun powder, and the inside of his house, old books and cheap booze. He doesn’t even question how is that possible.

“Good to see you, boy,” he says in the same gruff voice.

“You know that me being here means I’m dead, right?” he jokes, but accepts the beer Bobby hands him and sits next to him.

“Everybody dies, you ain’t special,” he replies with half a smile. “How was Sam?”

“Oh, you know. I’m sure he’s dealing.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll be here soon.”

Dean scoffs, “Hell, I hope not. I hope he lives the longest life, so he can tell me all about it when he comes up.”

Bobby clinks his bottle against his in agreement.

He is the one who tells him about Heaven – points in the distance at Rufus’ house, his own house. He is the one who tells him about Jack. And Cas.

Dean is surprised and gets a little chocked up. “I thought he was in the Empty. I thought – I thought Jack couldn’t reach him there.”

If he thinks that he could have -

But Bobby smiles and takes a sip. “Well, you’re right, but you think that would’ve stopped Jack from trying? He’s your son, after all,” he says and Dean is filled with pride and affection. “But when he got there, turns out, Cas was fighting from the inside.” Dean huffs a laugh and Bobby follows suit. “They broke everyone free, sent the Empty back to sleep. They’re all at peace now.”

“Wh-when did this happen?”

“Who knows. Time is different here. You’ll get used to it.”

Dean waits for Bobby to offer up some other information, but he stays silent.

So he takes a breath and starts, “Is - Cas, is he -?”, but Bobby cuts him off with a look.

“He sure knows you’re here. You just gotta call him.”

Dean nods and swallows but stays put, beer forgotten in his hand.

Another moment passes, then Bobby says, “Go, boy,” and Dean doesn’t look but he knows for a fact there is an eye-roll involved.

That gets him out of his chair and out of the shade of the porch, under a sun that is not too warm, nor too cold. “Thanks Bobby,” he looks back.

He nods and says, “Hey, when you’re done, come over at my place. I’d like you to meet my Karen,” and Dean doesn’t think he’s ever seen such happiness in his eyes.

*

He takes a few steps from the Roadhouse but when he turns back again, the pub seems miles away and then there’s the Impala right beside him.

“Hey, Baby,” he says, touching her hood affectionately. He leans against her, closes his eyes and concentrates. “Don’t worry. We’re gonna take off in a minute. Just wanted to know if someone wants to come along for a ride?”

He feels brave and light but holds his breath in the defining silence that follows. Before he can feel like a fool though, he hears a flap of wings right in front of him.

He can’t contain the smile that takes over his face. He waits a second more before opening his eyes.

“I would love to.”

Cas is beautiful. Dean has seen him powerful, and he’s seen him determinate, but he’s never seen him so peaceful and ethereal. He looks like home and like something so out of Dean’s reach – except that’s not true. He told him himself that he was wrong about that. The light shines on his face and he’s got a little smile that reminds Dean of one time on the side of a darkly lit road a lifetime ago.

Dean closes the distance in a heartbeat and wraps his arms around him and holds tight. “Hey, Cas.”

He feels the fabric of the trenchcoat against his skin and Cas’ strong arms and warm hands around him and if he didn’t already know he was in Heaven he would have started to suspect it right then. “Hello, Dean.”

They hold each other for a long time and Dean thinks of what Bobby said and wonders how many years are going by and how many more could go by before he gets sick of that.

He pulls back a little, just enough to look at his face but not enough to get out of his hold. He jokes, “You could’ve come find me at the gates, thrown me a welcome party.”

Cas presses his lips together. “I thought it was best to let you decide where you wanted to go and who you wanted to see.”

“And you thought I wouldn’t wanna see you?”

Cas hesitates but Dean cuts him off before he can say anything.

He cradles his face and makes sure Cas is looking straight at him when he says, “Cas. I love you too. Of course, I love you too,” and it comes out a little broken and a little breathy but he feels giddy and Cas is smiling and then there’s kisses, lips and hair through his fingers and a whole new shiny beautiful world. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me,” he says. “I’m so glad you’re here, I can’t believe my luck.”

Dean keeps thinking, Cas was right. All this time he thought that the best thing that could happen was to know that Cas loved him, but the way Dean feels now, seeing his eyes shining as he hears his words, yeah, nothing can beat that. He decides then, that he’ll tell him everything that Cas always deserved to hear and he’ll make sure he never forgets it. It may not make up for the time he spent doubting, but for sure he’ll try. Cas grabs his hand, “I feel the same way.”

Dean takes a deep breath. “So, what are we gonna do?”

“I could show you around. I thought I was offered a ride?”

“Yeah,” laughs Dean, pulling him along, walking backward towards the car. “You sure I’m not keeping you? I heard you’re big shot now.”

“I am God’s father. There are perks to the position,” Cas says, as they both get inside.

“Good. Hope that means you’re gonna stay. Cause I’m kinda sick of you getting out my sight.”

Cas looks back at him from the passenger seat, and it’s a sight Dean knows very well, but this time it’s different. This time he smiles and says the most amazing thing Dean could hope for.

He says: “I’m not going anywhere.”

[masterthespianduchovny]

Tony is the best. Always good heart. While steve was a traitor.

“Tony was the best. Always a good heart.”

Tony was a weapons manufacturer whose weapons likely killed millions of people. It doesn’t matter that he wasn’t directly responsible, he created weapons to kill a shit ton of people at a time and to profit from it.

He made a transphobic/homophobic joke that likely could’ve gotten Rhodey in trouble and/or harmed.

He build a killer robot and knowingly kept this from everyone. Said robot tried to kill most of the Jim’s population.

Tony didn’t give a damn about the mass destruction he caused until he was cornered in a hallway and it was only about American lives.

Tony blackmailed a teen into fighting on his side and never told him what he was fighting for. He then essentially abandoned him, despite being his mentor and chastised teen Peter for acting like a teen.

Tony consistently made insensitive and asshole jokes to his fellow avengers, which included remarks about their trauma.

After he died, he left billion dollar tech that was in control of drones to a fucking teen. Furthermore, this tech was in violation of the sovokia accords, which led to the “civil war.”

Tony tried to mortal injure Sam with vision, and then when Rhodey got hurt instead, he attacked Sam. He also exposed Clint’s family to the US government, which was a major asshole move. Despite knowing that Bucky was under mind control, he tried to kill him to hurt Steve.

“While steve was a traitor.”

A traitor to who?

Steve’s convictions are centered around his morals. If he feels something is morally and ethically wrong, he will “betray” it. We see in his first movie that, despite having orders to not rescue the POWs, he does so anyway because it’s morally wrong to leave them there to die if there’s a chance they could be saved.

When he finds out that hydra infiltrated shield and the US government, he acted against them for the betterment of humankind.

When the UN proposes the Sokovia accords, he opposed them due to various rights being stripped from people with powers or enhanced people.

Steve refuses to be loyal to anyone or organizations because they have agendas. We see him clash with authority figures for this very reason. He’s naturally distrustful of any entity that wields massive amount of power.

Not to say that Steve doesn’t make bad decisions, but he’s loyal to his friends and those he cares about. However, loyalty doesn’t mean allow said friend to harm someone else due to grief and anger.

Bucky was under mind control. As tragic as Tony’s parents deaths was, it would’ve been wrong to kill Bucky for something he literally had no control over. This was unambiguously established in that same film.

Despite this, we see Steve still extend himself to Tony and give Tony a way to contact him.

We see Steve form relationships with most avengers and that many of these said avengers are LOYAL to Steve. They chose him as the leader and were willing to die fighting beside him.

—-

Tony is very charismatic, but you have to look at how he and Steve treat people to understand that Steve makes a way better friend, colleague, etc than Tony.

Steve can convince almost literally anyone to fight beside him even it means defying the government and/or going on the run. Most of the people who sided against Steve during civil war, sided in his favor in the beginning of infinity wars. No one went from team cap to team stark. Even tiny sided with cap at the end of civil war.

And if you think I’m exaggerating, check literally every cap movie as well as avengers 2-4. Steve will start a fight alone or with one or two other people and by the end, he has had literal armies and government agencies backing him. As i said about civil war, just about every avenger literally sided with him after all was said and done. He rallied the people together in infinity wars and they followed his lead in endgame.

Like Tony has literally betrayed his fellow avengers where as Steve has constantly defended and protected them.

Tony has the good heart, but was fine locking up other avengers and Steve’s the traitor when he broke them out.

Okay. 👀

[dreamteamspace]

So this stream I got a bit confused with what was going on with the whole spiel with schlatt and dream, and I dont actually think theres a traitor. However if there was one why not niki ya know? I mean, he kept saying how it would be way more unexpected than eret in the independance war, and literally everyone so far has been thought of as a potential traitor to pogtopia,, except well,, why not niki? She also had this letter to her "dear friend" that sounded like a new turn for her character and idk man why not?

Alright I’m a very texting type of person and you’ve got my started on my hyperfixation here we go-

My thoughts on the whole situation and why I think Fundy is the traitor:

I think from Dream’s perspective: Everything makes sense. I’m HIGHLY certain that Schlatt’s deal, which Dream said is “Something Wilbur and Tommy would never give him”, was that L’Manburg will either cease to exist (become part of the Dream SMP, and we know neither Wilbur not Tommy would ever do that), or that Dream would essentially become leader of it.

That’s why, in this flip situation, if he wins, he wins all of it. This also makes sense, as Dream is 100% alright with Wilbur just blowing it up, too: Because essentially he achieves the very same thing: L’Maburg/Manburg is no more.

Dream is absolutely right that he was never on their side or really on anybody’s side. Dream is his own side. It’s his server. He IS the Dream SMP, in that sense, just like Tommy is the spearhead of the rebellion right now.

I’m also fairly certain Dream will pull a lot more people than they think into this, and I think they ALSO know, in a meta-way, that they won’t be fighting only Schlatt and Dream and one traitor. He’s just letting them wallow in their security, although I have to say he LOVES dipping in his dramatic implications about what he’s doing or will do. In this case, he might’ve managed to keep quiet to let them think they’re safe.

So for Dream: Either they win, and L’Manburg is his/no more, or Wilbur sees they start losing, and L’Manburg is also no more. Honestly? He just has to make Wilbur panic hard enough to hit that button... and then he wins. It would be bad if he loses, though, so I do think he’ll pull together for this. He’s very competitive.

(Lot more juicy theory as to who the traitor is under the cut)

I predict that a good portion of BadboyHalo, Georgenotfound, Sapnap, Punz, potentially also people like Thunder or Alyssa?, are going to join Dream’s side. Sam seems close to the rebellion, but he’s also friends with George and Sapnap, but I just can’t see those two seriously fighting against Dream. If the stakes really are high, they’ll flip over to him, although I also can’t see them convincing Sam.

Most likely, George and Sapnap are just going to stay out of it entirely, and let Sam fight on the side of the rebellion. Maybe the current pet war might change that, though, say if Sapnap develops a new hatred against Tommy or even Sam? (I dont know what the pet war’s at atm but didn’t Sapnap and Sam fight over pets?), he would join in on Dream’s side. George? I have no idea. Most likely he just won’t be there. He doesn’t want to go against Sam (Who provides him with like. Everything), but he also doesn’t wanna fight Dream. IF he fights, though, I’m tempted to say he’d be on Dream’s side, but I’m honestly not up to date enough on his streams to say for certain.

As for the traitor: I actually haven’t seen Niki’s letter (to my great regret, I saw the news float around though), since I’m very focused on watching Tommy and Wilbur’s POVs. Honestly, if it’s Niki? That would be MASSIVELY surprising, and the biggest brain move I’ve ever seen. It’s possible, but I honestly don’t think it’s likely.

They’ve kept their characters fairly consistent, and while this IS kindof meta to say, I don’t think (with how things are atm), that Niki would betray L’Manburg, UNLESS she’s doing a double-agent thing and plans on tricking Dream in the end. That I could potentially see happening.

But knowing that she changed the anthem from Wilbur’s posessive “My L’Manburg” to just “L’Manburg”, that she’s been loyal even when they kinda half left her alone with Schlatt to tax her, and even during the pet wars she never strikes blood, but rather takes hostages and wants a sincere apology... I don’t see it right now. Then again, I don’t watch Niki’s streams on the SMP, so I could be wrong, as I’m not quite familiar with the intricacies of her character on the SMP besides the surface level.

On on hand... I also doubt whether there is a traitor at all, and Dream is just hoping to drive them apart and make sure they don’t get things done as efficiently as they could, because they’re busy pointing fingers at eachother, suspecting eachother, potentially even throwing somebody out once the tension between them snaps.

He needs to win this fight. If he does, he gets EVERYTHING. What they think of him after that point doesn’t matter, so the lie doesn’t matter. They can laugh at him afterwards, but he’ll still have won. I don’t know how many actually highly important details Dream would drop into conversation like that.

Consider, he does have a traitor. Why would he tell them he has one there? Why tell them that they’ll never guess? It just sows chaos in their group, and that’s what he wants. If he DID have one, he might just not say anything.

On the other hand: He might just be dramatic like that honestly. We all know they’re meta-fighting for the next spot in a sad-ist animatic, so Dream could very well be taking a more active role to insert himself into the story and cause some drama. Even if he DOES have a traitor on the inside, saying it still sows chaos. It’s a little risky, but if it really is something they won’t guess, then the chance that they’ll suspect the wrong person might be high enough, and make it worth it.

If he DOES actually have a traitor, my top sus are honestly Fundy, Tubbo, and maybe Ponk. I’m very sure it’s NOT Wilbur, Tommy, Sam, or Quackity.

Ponk doesn’t seem like the type of person to be reliable enough. He’s just kinda in it for the ride, and he’s too quiet to set a focus on. I don’t think Dream even considered him on the side of the rebellion for certain until today. It is, however, still possible. Tommy seems to trust him, and he’s not in deep enough for them to intently interrogate him on his loyalty, cause they know he’s more laid back when it comes to that. He feels only half in the rp to begin with, just wanting to fuck around with everyone. And then, BOOM, he’s actually been playing a massive role this whole time. It’s a little bit of a safe target, too, albeit a little underwhelming.

Tubbo... listen. We all love Tubbo. Tommy loves Tubbo, and we know Tubbo cares greatly for Tommy. Tubbo also seems(?) to care for L’Manburg. But I just....

It’s Tubbo, man. I have no idea. He seemed SO close to ACTUALLY flipping over to Schlatt before the festival. Everyone keeps pushing him around like this innocent tiny kid when he has the biggest third eye out of everyone and is the only one actually doing any work.

Tubbo has stated before that his official motivation is that he just wants peace for everyone. He just doesn’t want to fight and wants to do fun stuff. So of course he sounds horrified at the prospect of having to hunt down Tommy after Tommy was exiled, but happily went along with the festival. He was excited to do his speech. Schlatt actually placed responsability on them for once. He truly did seem happy about that.

It doesn’t matter as much to Tubbo who’s who. What matters is that the fighting preferrably stops, and they all just have a good time. Dream gave the line “I’m very convincing”, so I think he did actually have to convince the traitor, if there is one, to join his side. It wasn’t automatic.

Technically speaking, if L’Manburg is no more, and they’re all part of the Dream SMP again, doesn’t the fighting stop? If there’s no nation to fight over, then there’s no reason to fight. If L’Manburg is no more, then Schlatt has 0 power, and if Dream takes over, he could’ve promised to un-exile Tommy and Wilbur. And then they’re all part of the Dream SMP! No more fighting! Everyone’s on the same side!

Tubbo seems to care less for nations or sides, and much more for people, and for the people around them to be happy. His switch to enthusiasm at Schlatt’s festival came quickly, because many of the people he cared about still partook in it, and he never did hurt Tommy, because he does care about him.

But Tubbo DID say the line “may the festival begin” after his speech, and they knew what that would start. So why? In a way, I think Tubbo waged his options. Who does he care about more? Tommy, to his knowledge, is on Wilbur’s side. He might’ve decided in a moment of uncertainty that Wilbur and Tommy’s opinions of him are more important to them than the opinions of the other people there. Mostly Tommy, because we know those two would die for eachother. They chose Tommy over everyone else at that festival, potentially even over their own motivations, over their own gut.

Fundy, in fact, has MANY reasons to be the traitor, but isn’t quite obvious in that sense. They thought he was a traitor, actually, but once he showed them his diary, he essentially convinced all of them very certainly that he’s not the traitor, and they believed him. Dream joined the call later, so it’s possible he heard that part or Fundy told him about it (They’ve all been known to listen in on convos sometimes to know whats going in. They have to in order to build a good story line.)

Fundy has all the reasons. Reason number one, to me, is Fundywastaken. It’s canon in the Dream SMP lore, they just surprisingly haven’t done anything with it. During the independance war, that wasn’t a thing yet, and since they ARE a thing in canon now... they’ve never actually fought eachother. In fact, as things are now? We’re EXPECTING to see Dream fight his canon fiancé. Fundy officially joined the fight when Tommy asked him, confirming that they can count on him and that he will fight. We know for certain that Dream will fight.

If Fundy isn’t the traitor and doesn’t become one, then Dream and Fundy are inevitably meeting in battle on the 16th.

Consider his storyline: We’ve all been highly expecting Fundy to either punch Wilbur in the face or at LEAST be dissapointed in him or SOMETHING. He hasn’t, as far as I’m aware. He’s just standing there near him, very very quietly, giving a firm but quiet “yes” when Tommy asked him if they could count on him.

Fundy hasn’t expressed much to Wilbur at all, despite heving been left alone with Schlatt by him, despite how much he deserves to be angry at him for being patronized and not trusted with anything.

And, y’know... He’s officially Dream’s fiancé. The others don’t seem to know yet, and I don’t know how many people do know or not. It’s possible they just don’t know, and of course Dream wouldn’t tell them anything, not even tell anyone, this close before a fight. Dream might not even tell his close allies out of fear that the information could spread or that they could turn on him.

So honestly... Fundy seems the most likely for me to be the traitor, especially because there’s been plenty of foreshadowing for it, there’s a good setup, he has good reasons, and it wouldn’t seem like a cheap plottwist, but rather a gradual change.

Not to mention that meta-wise, Fundy has been actively involved in the rp and been dropping some pretty good lines himself. This isn’t something that Dream would have some non-rping person do.

I’m also kindof sure it’s not Technoblade, because Dream laughed it off and half-indicated that it is (Tommy: “I bet it’s Technoblade” Dream, cracking up: “I didn’t say that, you said that”), because he profits from doing so. He profits from them thinking Technoblade is the traitor. And also I really, really don’t think Techno would team up with Dream in this rp. Then again, Dream recently proclaimed to be on the side of chaos.... so who truly knows? I’ll definitly be surprised if it’s Techno, but I suppose it is a possibility. I just don’t think Techno can be convinced to much of anything, unless of course all it took was saying “Hey it’s Schlatt and Me against like 6 people so if we want an actual fight for once-” “Finally some bloodshed and war. I’m in”. I mean, I doubt it, but I’m leaving the possibility open.

TLDR: Dream wins if he wins the fight OR if Wilbur blows everything up. The traitor is likely either Fundy, Ponk or Tubbo, and I think there will be more people fighting on Dream’s side than just Schlatt and one traitor.

[ruby-whistler]

Your c!dream post came on my dash and while I can definitely agree with the main point (torture is wrong no matter who it happens to) some of the contents of that post were a bit bothering to me.

the fact that you implied that your concerned for people who really hate c!dream and therefore see the torture as payback is really crossing a line. I really hope I misinterpreted that because it sounds like your implying that you think those people would dehumanize people in real life. That is a big assumption to make my friend, not something you can just throw around because you see someone talking bad about a character you emphasize with.

And like I said, I’m saying that while agreeing with your main point. I can say that your right about that being something we shouldn’t do while also knowing that this is about a Minecraft roleplay revolving around a character who canonically abused a 17 year old. The accusation your making is not something you should throw around. Just like people shouldn’t accuse Dream apologists who say bad stuff about c!tommy of being real life abuse apologists. There’s a huge difference about being attached to a character and saying something dumb and doing these things irl.

Also I thought we were past referring to lmanburg as colonization? I’m not sure if that’s what you were doing but That’s a real thing that effects people and not something you can just pin on a couple of white streamer men roleplaying. Someone more equipped then me can explain why they are very much not comparable at all, and why it’s bad to compare it, ill probably butcher it. I saw a good post about it somewhere.

And then onto the stuff that’s more story based and doesn’t matter as much:

- dream very much did plan to keep tommy in the prison cell for life, like I’m pretty sure he flat out said it or at least very heavily implied it during the confrontation, someone probably has a clip.

- I can agree that Sam wasn’t manipulated by dream, but he does have trauma from him, in fact it’s a big part of his arc. Dream would brag about what he did to tommy in exile, laughed in his face after killing tommy, and often screamed at him threatening to kill him as well. It affected sam greatly and is what started his spiral.

- There are other things in your post that I disagree with to some extent but honestly debating lore things isn’t what I’m here for. So we can agree to disagree. I’m not really to concerned about the lore stuff.

just like you were talking about being careful about what you are saying about c!dream because it can hurt people, I will also say to be careful in what you say about c!dream in his favor because it can also hurt people. Please do not forget he very canonically abused, murdered, and threatened to murder teenagers. That’s a touchy subject, especially because it was displayed in such a raw manner. Is he deserveing of abuse because of it? Of course not. Is he unworthy of growth or change? Of course not. Does that mean people have to forgive him or like him or sympathize with him? No. No one is morally required to sympathize with a character, as long as your not saying gross things about them. ( like claiming that they deserve torture! )

Someone saying something in the heat of the moment about a character who reminds them of their abuser does not justify calling them real life dehumanizers, or claiming they are prone to it. It’s not cool. And, I and feel like In liking c!dream (or any character who has done something really morally wrong) you have to make sure to be respectful towards people who have been in those situations. You can like a character without excusing their actions. Not saying your doing that, just a blanket statement.

Also, please take care of yourself. If seeing people criticize or say bad things about a character you like is causing you genuine distress, please take a break. I tend to hyperfixate and project and I know that sometimes it can be a really harmful thing. It helps a lot to take a deep breathe and step away for a few minutes. This is a reminder to everyone else as well to always tag crit. And to clarify, I’m not trying to like drag you through the mud for anything I disagree with in your post. Like trust me I get heat of the moment reactions and not completely thinking through everything you write down. And just blatantly not knowing that something isn’t cool to say. I just want to make sure it’s known that hey, maybe people shouldn’t say _.

If there’s anything in my post that’s wrong I apologize, I’m open to respectful criticism. And also just to finish this off, I know getting critical asks can be upsetting, so if you are genuinely made upset, angry, or anxious by this ask, please just leave it be. Don’t respond, or take a breather before you do. I’m saying this because like I said I just came across this post, I don’t know you or how you tend to react to things so I don’t want to start a huge thing. Just giving my thoughts and crit.

And also because having people yell/be really rude at me makes me very genuinely anxious! Even if it’s anon. Please keep that in mind if you respond (you don’t have to, it’s up to you) You can respond and disagree however much you like, just please don’t be a jerk about it cause I’ll probably cry lol (seriously tho like I said I’m sensitive)

Alright, so first as a quick disclaimer, I’m going to out a summary of the original post’s points, just to ensure that we’re on the same page;

The post does say:

- don’t dehumanize c!Dream because it continuously hurts people who relate to and/or sympathize with him, also dehumanization in general is an inherently wrong mindset

- don’t attack people who sympathize with him because he’s a victim of abuse besides other things

The post never says:

- you cannot hate c!Dream and not sympathizing with him is wrong

- the things c!Dream has done are to any degree excused

- don’t dehumanize c!Dream because he’s a good person

- people who dehumanize c!Dream are real life abuse apologists

If you read the post and didn’t get these points from it, i advise you to reread it as I made pretty much all of these abundantly clear.

I absolutely never said anything about real life abuse apologism. I continuously put (fictional) in front of things to make that point. I don’t know how you got that from the post.

Dehumanization is wrong. Dehumanization of fictional characters on a large scale to the point where people will excuse his abuse is wrong and it hurts people and I will speak out about it. It doesn’t mean people will dehumanize people irl or that they are prone to it, but it’s still wrong.

I never said L’manberg was colonization. I said some people who have had their country colonized relate to him because he had his home torn apart and is desperate to return it back to its original state. This is a completely valid reason to relate to him as it is a pretty big part of the character.

He said he would “put him in the prison”. I don’t remember him saying it would be forever, but he could’ve said that, however I’d like a clip first. He never said he would be stored in the inhumane, main cell, and it makes a lot more sense that he wouldn’t be in there 1) because Dream said it was only a security measure 2) the prisoner was supposed to be able to move around the prison.

I don’t care that the abuser was “traumatized” by the abuse victim telling him of his actions. If I was being tortured mentally and mistreated and neglected physically by a person who hates my guts for weeks I too would probably threaten him. It didn’t start his spiral. His spiral was caused by corruption and possibly hatred, not being “hurt” by c!Dream. c!Dream didn’t cause himself to be abused, that was fully c!Sam’s decision, and saying otherwise is victim blaming (not saying you did that, just putting this point out here).

I do not forget the bad things he’s done. I was there. I saw it. I hated him for it. I still sympathize with him. I still believe he deserves better. I still believe he deserves to get better. I 100% agree with the point that it’s wrong to say someone is required to feel sympathy, as long as they don’t dehumanize him and harass people who do. That was the literal point of the post.

I am one of the many c!Dream fans who get constantly triggered because of how overwhelming the dehumanization is in the community. It’s not being hypersensitive, and I really hope you’re not implying that. It’s a very real issue that should be solved so that people don’t have to “take breaks” because of it.

I don’t care if people hate him or criticize him. I genuinely couldn’t care less. He did disgusting things. I’m used to it. But it is normalized in the community to say stuff about the character that is genuinely triggering, and would be to anyone if people were saying it on a large scale about their favorite character.

Hope this didn’t come off as too aggressive, I have anxiety and I didn’t want to let my feelings bleed into this because that wouldn’t be good for me. Wish you a nice day.

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟔)

pt. 15

note: missed u baddies~~~!!! this chapter was so hard to write but i love how it turned out, hope y’all loved it tooooo ♡ 

playlist *new additions!*

word count: 7.6k

warnings: age gap, smut 

Absentmindedly, you picked up your phone on the end table beside you. It was positively buzzing with notifications, and you were a bit thrown off by the sheer amount of them. You furrowed your eyebrows as you skimmed through the notifications from the bottom to the top— you had a bunch of missed calls from your parents, more Snapchat notifications on your regular snap than ever, and a plethora of texts. 

You wondered if something had happened, chewing slightly on your bottom lip. Was everything okay at home? Did you post something meant for your cam site on your Instagram? A hundred various circumstances fled through your mind, but none of the situations you had made up could’ve prepared you for when you opened a text from Aaliyah with a picture attached. It read:

    - Attachment: 1 image

    - BITCH, THIS IS LITERALLY YOU!!!

     You sat up immediately, your stomach twisting nauseatingly as you looked at the image on your phone screen. You blinked a few times, rubbing furiously at your eyes like this was all a bad dream and you’d wake up in a few seconds. Because this couldn’t be happening. There was no way that you were looking at a picture of you and Steve that neither of you had taken, walking out of a restaurant you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of right now. A sense of urgency flooding your veins, you nudged Steve harshly. He shifted in his sleep and put his arms around your waist, unaware of what was going on. 

     “Steve!” you hissed, your face burning. 

     He woke up relatively quickly, hearing the seriousness in your tone, sitting up against the pillow and facing you, his brows knitted together, muscles flexing as he supported himself on his arms. 

     “What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, leaning forward to see what you were showing him on your phone. 

You watched his expression change from one of confusion to one of concern as he began to grasp what had happened. But, instead of talking it out with you as you expected, he cursed under his breath and ripped the bed sheets off of him, getting up out of bed. You leaned forward, your naked bottom half getting exposed to the air while he pulled on some clothes and made his way out the door. 

     “Where’re you going?” you called out after him, and he didn’t even bother to take a look back at you as he marched out of the apartment, muttering,

     “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

You tried to catch up to him, but it was too late. He was gone, and now you were alone in this apartment which felt eerily empty without him now, your phone pinging with a new notification every few seconds. 

| | | 

     As expected, the headquarters were abuzz when Steve entered them. He had arrived in a haste, driving stoically on the busy New York streets, his mind racing just like the cars that zoomed past him. The first person to face him once he got inside was Bucky, who just gave Steve a sympathetic look and held the door open for him— Bucky already knew everything, he had figured it out a few weeks ago on his own. You and Steve had already dealt with that hiccup, and you had hoped (perhaps naively) that the situation with Bucky was just a fluke, and that nothing more like that would happen again. But you had been sorely mistaken. 

     Steve gave Bucky a nod, and they both made their way to the meeting room, where Steve already knew everyone would be waiting for him. Quite immaturely, he rolled his eyes at the fact that everyone was there. This matter was something personal, it had nothing to do with the rest of the Avengers, though technically it did, because Steve’s actions affected the rest of the team and  he knew that. But to his own credit, he had just woken up and he was already being bombarded with messages from PR and the rest of the team about this mishap. He had to compose himself before walking in, taking a deep breath and relaxing his clenched jaw. 

     “Are you insane?” was the first thing Steve heard when he walked in, no doubt coming from Tony.

Steve sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets, glaring at Tony,

     “Save the berating for later.”

     “Were you not thinking? Is this what you were doing during your time off?” Tony continued, his hands up in the air in a questioning motion.

     “Listen, Tony. I’m not here to hear what I did wrong. I’m here to solve this issue right now, whatever that means.”

     “You’re gonna wanna see this,” Sam said reluctantly, sliding a magazine across the table for Steve to see. 

     It was one of those ridiculous celebrity gossip magazines, and multiple pictures of Steve and you were highlighted on the front page. Steve prepared for the worst as he read the headlines: “Captain America with Mystery Girl?” and “Who is Captain America’s New Boo?” He opened the magazine to more unsavory headlines, and to his extreme dismay, pictures of you from your personal Instagram highlighted. 

     He raised his eyebrows as he read: “More on Captain America’s New Girl.” They had found your name, your age, and worst of all, your profession. Steve was seeing red as he forced himself to keep reading the salacious article which made you out to be a deviant with ulterior motives, abusing inaccurate phrases like, “an unemployed college girl turned porn star” and, “the face of Captain America’s midlife crisis!” 

Steve’s face burned white hot as he scanned the article, barely even registering the content and instead finding himself growing more and more angered by the inflammatory statements that were being made. 

     “That’s enough,” Nat finally spoke up, watching the expressions on Steve’s face grow more and more catastrophic.

She snatched the magazine away from Steve and shoved it across the table, folding her arms and glaring down the table at Tony. 

     “You okay?” Bucky asked, reaching a hand out to Steve’s shoulder. He could feel Tony’s angry glare focused on him, while everyone else gazed at him pitifully. 

Steve sighed, jerking his shoulder away from Bucky’s touch. He couldn’t even pinpoint his emotions, all he was feeling right now was rage. He was angry at himself, feeling like he somehow let this happen, even though deep down he could hear your voice telling him that he was doing everything right and that it wasn’t his fault. He was angry that now, your privacy and safety were on the line, and people who didn’t know a thing about you were making absurd assumptions about you. 

     He felt like yelling, punching something, doing anything to let out this anger so he could at least have some sort of vessel for this fury he was feeling. But he stood painstakingly still, trying to hear your voice over all the noise, your voice telling him everything was okay even though right now all signs were saying that everything was not okay. 

     “You have to deny everything,” Tony sighed after moments of awkward silence. “She’s your assistant and you were undercover acting as boyfriend and girlfriend, something convincing but not as exposing as that. And you’re getting your legal team to sue all these publications for false claims and defamation.”

Steve furrowed his brows, staring at Tony,

     “They aren’t false claims.”

Tony shrugged flippantly,

      “If you want everyone to think Captain America is sleeping with a porn star, then so be it. But it’s going to cost you if you think for a second I’m gonna let that slide on our team-”

Steve cut him off, losing the calming hum of your voice in his mind in a new wave of anger, 

     “She’s not a porn star, she’s a college graduate and the owner of an online brand and a sex worker, and that’s more than a lot of people her age can say, so don’t get brave because of these god damn articles, Stark.”

     “Listen, Cap,” Tony spat sarcastically. “I don’t give a shit who she is. The point is that in this case, your opinion on her doesn’t matter because everyone else is going to say whatever the fuck they want to say. And that’s bad for you, it’s bad for us, and it’s bad for her, if you care as much as you claim to.”

     “Don’t act like I didn’t think about this,” Steve lurched forward, slamming his hands on the table. “She’s more than just some girl to me. Don’t act like every waking second I didn’t worry that something like this would happen. Like, like I didn’t take every precaution I could, look over my shoulder every five seconds. I’m not as stupid as you want me to be, Stark.”

Of course Steve cared about his team and how this would affect the Avengers, but the last straw was the media coming for you, putting your privacy and your safety at stake. Your job and the details of your job were extremely sensitive, and you were just beginning to make a name for yourself in the real world. Steve honestly felt like this was worse for you than it was for him. He knew he had to take care of this first, for logistical reasons, but when he was done, he’d get right to you as soon as possible.

     Tony sighed, softening just a bit.

     “Listen. You know what you have to do. After the Accords, this… this isn’t the kind of attention that we need. Regardless of that, we can’t have this. You’re making a statement today, and you know what you have to say. PR’s already contacting the publishers of these bullshit articles. As for your little girlfriend, if we’re not careful, she could be in huge danger. You know the kind of people we deal with, and how fast they would swing at a chance to grab her when they think she’s unprotected. That’s exactly why you need to deny everything, and we’ll do all the damage control possible. Not that there’s even much we can fix at this point.”

      Steve glared all around the table, only to see faces of the rest of the members of the team looking up at him expectantly. He needed to explain himself. How’d he even get into this mess, what was he thinking, the usual. And Steve knew that that was his responsibility— as Captain America. As the leader. As a part of the team. Right now, he was just himself. Steve Rogers. And all that Steve Rogers was worried about was you. Regardless of what you said, the fact that you could be in danger scared the shit out of him, and also put him into this almost primitive, dominant mode. He needed to protect you. He didn’t care about reactions and rumors, he needed to make sure you were safe.

     “Talk later,” was all Steve said, turning out of the room and ignoring Tony calling his name. When he got into the car he slammed the door shut and began the drive home. 

      His mind was swarming with thoughts, about what this meant for his team, for his job, all the things he’d left unaddressed in the meeting room. He knew this wasn’t his fault, he knew that’s what you would say, but Steve wasn’t going to let himself off this easily. He was livid about the fact that the magazines and web articles had found you out so quickly and had posted pictures of you, giving away personal information about you and jeopardizing you as if you deserved it at all. So he drove home in a silent, fuming rage.

      By the time Steve came home, you, too were beside yourself with anger. You’d seen the posts your friends and family were sending you, and your social media was getting flooded with spam and comments from people who didn’t know the first thing about you. Some were downright cruel, others were oddly interested in this situation that was meant to be private all along. You hadn’t even called your parents yet or explained yourself to anyone, all you did was text them and tell them you’d get back to them later when you figured this all out. The only person you wanted to talk to at this point was Steve, and he wasn’t even there, nor was he answering his phone and you knew he had it on him. 

     The fact that he had seen the news and just left immediately, not giving you any sort of comfort or advice, not even beginning to work through this together, had you fuming. You knew that just like you, Steve had people to explain himself to and others to reach out to. But as far as you were concerned, you should’ve been the first person he talked to about this— he should’ve worked with you to at least talk about how to fix this before he just marched out the way he did. 

      You thought you had both worked past his eternal faithfulness to his job and the pressure to be dominant that he felt all the time, felt you had reached the core of the superhuman. But him leaving as promptly as he did only proved you wrong. You didn’t want to go through this alone, you wanted to go through this with him, as it was about the both of you in the first place.

     He came in and you looked up from your phone, where you were scrolling worriedly through the trending Twitter hashtag about you and Steve. Everyone was giving their unwarranted opinions, and you honestly worried how this would impact you— tons of information about you had been revealed without your consent, and it did not at all make you look good to the typical eye. 

     “Where did you go?” you asked him quietly, glaring up at him. 

He seemed to sense your anger and sighed, shrugging his shoulders in a resigned manner,

     “Headquarters. Had to sort some things out.”

     “Do you know how long I’ve been sitting here scrolling through pictures of me that are from my fucking cam site? Strangers exchanging information about me on the internet, seeing all this shit about us? And you just— just left? You didn’t even try to talk to me, Steve, honestly, what the fuck?” you snapped, your upper lip curling up angrily.

     Steve glided over to you, sitting beside you on the side of the bed and trying to get close to you. He truly felt sorrowful for leaving you alone, he wished you had known how much he wanted to talk to you while he was being berated by Tony. He only wished you had known how little he cared about the logistics because you were on his mind the whole time. 

     But he knew you were right, he had left without even trying to sort things out with you, left you to handle things on your own without even giving you an inch of support or telling you where he was going and what he planned for when he got back. 

     “You’re right, I’m sorry,” Steve apologized, his tone genuine, trying to catch your eye. He finally did, and even though you still glared angrily at him, he grinned at the fact that you were at least looking at him. “I should’ve been here for you, and dealt with all the other logistics later. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, honestly, angel. I didn’t… I didn’t know-”

He didn’t know that your image was being plastered around everywhere, that you were being unpacked by attention-seeking publications. Your safety and your privacy came before the reputation of his team, before all the logistics. That was all he had wanted to protect this entire time. You. Looking into Steve’s eyes, you could see that they were almost glassy, and you shifted from anger to concern quickly. 

     “Baby,” you cradled your arms around his head, frowning. “No, no, I’m… I’m being stupid, of course you have to handle shit with your job first, I should know that. I just wish we could’ve processed this emotionally first. Instead of separating from each other first thing.”

     “No,” Steve said firmly, pulling away from your touch and placing strong, grounding hands on your shoulders. “No, you are completely valid, and you’re right to be angry with me, doll. I should’ve taken a moment. That’s- that’s what we’ve been working on this entire time and you’ve been trying to teach me to step outside of my anxieties and all my duties. And I should’ve been here for you. I didn’t even take the time to comfort you. I’m sorry.”

      “Thank you,” you smiled softly, and he pulled you in for a hug, nuzzling his face in your neck. 

     This was the warmest you’d ever felt with him, just sitting there with him calmly in the midst of all the chaos, finding peace and stillness in each other’s arms. Anywhere else but in each other’s arms felt dangerous and uncertain, and now that you were here together, you were starting to look up. Everything was still shitty, but maybe together, things would feel less shitty. 

     “Listen, you’ll be okay. I’m sorry for all of this, I know what you’re going to say, but I know that I’m partially responsible. I just wanted to keep you safe, and, fuck.”

You chuckled quietly to yourself, your faces only inches apart when you brought your hands up to cup and graze Steve’s cheeks lovingly,

      “You still blame yourself for everything. You can’t control what these fucking publications do. You know that. And selfishly, the risk of getting caught is worth taking, if it means I get to be with you.”

Steve melted into your touch, but still there was that stiff part of him that wanted to blame himself for this mess,

     “We’re gonna have to agree to disagree on this one, doll,” he laughed wistfully. “But, you didn’t teach me for naught. Instead of pitying ourselves, we’re gonna work on this, right?”

You nodded with a smile, 

     “Yes, yes, exactly.”

Steve sighed before continuing, frowning as he remembered the hostile air in the office.

     “They told me to deny everything and get my legal team involved, but I…” Steve paused, feeling his anger and defiance resurge. 

     If they were going to expose you two, then so be it, it was true. If he didn’t tell the truth, if he denied all the “allegations,” he was just letting them win. He was letting them silence him, letting him think he was doing something wrong because he had found you, his happiness. And sure, your relationship was easy to publicize and critique because it was controversial for many obvious reasons— the age difference, the sensitive nature of your jobs. 

     But Steve didn’t care what they had to say. All he cared was that this didn’t push you apart. And if it meant telling the truth, he’d do that. The bombardment of rumors and questions would pass eventually. Nothing could soil the Avengers for long. If he handled this the way the public expected him to handle it— with some spineless apology or some weak minded statement, it wouldn’t be fair to you. Not when you and Steve were together. 

He continued,

     “I’m not going to. I’m not denying a thing. I’ll release a statement on my own… I’ll… I’ll tell the truth. I’ll get them to leave you alone and take down whatever they’ve posted about you. I don’t care what they have to say about us. Just… they can’t mess with you.”

     Steve’s fists balled up inadvertently in frustration and anger, but he was also feeling a surge of pride, courage. He didn’t have to deal with this the way everyone wanted him to. This was a personal matter, and even though it affected his job and his team, Steve had been through too much in the past few weeks to let the public play him the way they wanted to. There would be drama, and talk, but it would all subside as it always did. He’d always be Captain, and as long as he had a good heart and good intentions, and did his job right, he didn’t give a shit about what strangers had to say about who he was in love with. 

You blinked, shocked and puzzled by Steve’s words. This was like a full 180, you weren’t used to Steve rebelling like this. You figured maybe he was just worked up, and you didn’t want to be the reason he got in trouble. You knew he had his responsibilities, regardless of how you felt. You didn’t expect him to put you above everything, you knew he had to deal with matters like this in a specific way. You tried to calm him down,

     “Steve, you’re sweet. But you should go through with what your team wants. I mean, it’s what’s best, isn’t it?”

Steve cocked his head at you,

     “And keep doing this in secret? I mean, we can’t keep this up for long, doll, you know that. If I deny it now and the truth somehow comes out, that’d be even worse. I know my team is saying the opposite, but I think this is what’s best. The rumors, the gossip… it’ll come to a stop. What we have is stronger than that.”

You grinned, your eyes glossy,

     “I know, but I don’t wanna be the reason you get in trouble.”

Steve inched closer to you and cupped your face firmly with his hands, looking into your eyes,

     “You’re not. And you won’t be. Don’t blame yourself for a second. I’m taking care of this, alright? You’ve done so much for me and you don’t even know it. It would be a disservice to the both of us if I didn’t stand up for us. Don’t worry about me, don’t worry about my job. I was wrong to ever make you feel like that was your responsibility more than it was my own. We’ll be alright.”

     Steve was true to his word. As the day progressed and word spread even more, soon enough there was a statement to match the rumors. It wasn’t what the publicists or his fellow Avengers wanted to hear, but it was what he thought was right. And there was no reversing it. Later that day you sat on your laptop, scrolling through the recently updated articles on your situation. 

     Superhero Captain America, known to those in his personal life as Steve Rogers, admits that he has been in a private relationship for the past few months. Rogers and his team ask that their privacy be maintained and respected despite the shocking, unexpected news. At the time, Rogers and his fellow Avengers will not be taking any further inquiries about the matter, and they are taking this violation of privacy and security very seriously. 

     You breathed out a sigh of relief as you read the statement, mulling it over a few times in your head. All Steve wanted was to keep you safe and get as much information that had been revealed about you taken down. You weren’t quite sure what you were going to do from here on out— your sensitive profession had been exposed and this was something that would quite likely impact you for the rest of your life. 

     How could you be expected to be taken seriously to get a career when you had been trashed and defamed on the internet for your job? It seemed that still, no one quite understood sex work and that it was just as legitimate a profession as anything else, and you knew from the start that sex workers were looked down upon. You had done everything right— you used an alias, you didn’t give away personal information. And now, your face was plastered on gossip websites, with links to the very cam site you used. 

     Needless to say, you were stressed. But, you weren’t panicking. You were processing everything and it was all so overwhelming. In the grand scheme of things, you weren’t being nitpicky about the specifics. You had faith that you would figure this all out, that everything would be back to normal soon. Whatever that meant for your future, you weren’t sure. But you refused to lose hope. Not yet. You’d pick yourself back up from the ground and dust yourself off, just like you’d done so many times before. The difference was that Steve would be there for you every step of the way.

     Steve was out again handling important business. He’d talked to you before leaving and you understood that he’d have to be gone for a few hours trying to juggle this insane situation. In the meantime, you decided that since you had time, you’d call back everyone who had been bombarding you with messages and calls. Firstly, you’d call your parents. You dialed your dad’s number and he picked up almost immediately. 

You could hear him calling your mother’s name so she could talk to you too, and you heard her scramble up to the phone to talk. 

      “YN, what the hell is going on?” your mother asked, but she sounded more concerned than upset. 

     “We’ve been calling all day, we’ve been worried sick. Everyone’s been asking about you and we had no clue what was going on,” your father continued. 

You were surprised at their tone. Perhaps ever since your awkward dinner with them where you’d revealed what was likely your biggest secret, there had been a shift. You were surprised when they were so quick to accept you despite being so distant from you your whole life, being the root of your emotional issues. You sighed, rubbing your forehead,

     “Look, I know it’s a lot.”

     “Are you okay, sweetie? Be honest,” your mother pleaded, and you made a face,

     “I’m fine, it’s been a stressful day, but-”

      “No, I mean in general. We… we know we haven’t been talking much, but this… this whole thing, it’s-- we’re worried about you. You just go off to New York without saying a thing to anyone? You’re in some secret relationship with a man twice your age?” 

You understood their concern, but at the same time, you knew you weren’t being irrational by doing these things. Instead, you were doing what made you happy. This wasn’t a spontaneous, crazy decision. You and Steve were both extremely logical people, and you weren’t unstable just because you did this without anyone knowing. You had your reasons. 

     “Look, I… this is something I did on my own. I’m an adult and I’m doing what's best for me. And, obviously, there was a reason I didn’t tell anyone. I mean, he’s- he’s not just some random guy. And what we have is… you might not understand it, but that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me.”

     “I just wish you felt like you could talk to us.”

     “Yeah. Me too. Listen, I just wanted to call you to let you know that I’m fine. I don’t really know what’s next, but I’ll try to keep you updated, alright? Don’t worry about me, everything will be okay.”

      “What about all those posts about you? The things people are saying, it’s- and your safety! This is serious.”

     “Dad, I know. We are working it out, believe me. I’m just as worried as you are. I’m probably more worried. But you know what, I knew the risk in coming here, and I knew what I was doing. And I’m still glad I did it. Steve means so much to me, and I’m not gonna let this change that. But all that matters is that I’m okay. I just wanted to call you and tell you that.”

      “Well, we’re glad to hear that you’re okay. There’s just so much about you that we’re just now finding out, we have every reason to be worried.”

     “Yes, you do, and you’re right. If things were different… well. Anyways. I love you both, I’ll call you later,” you said, hanging up without waiting for them to reply.

At least that was off your plate. 

| | |

     The next morning, you woke up with Steve by your side, holding you in his arms. Needless to say, yesterday had been incredibly eventful, and by the time Steve got back home, there was nothing left to do except sleep the day off. It seemed as if your troubles were far in the past, considering how quickly everything had been handled. You had to hand it to Steve, he was the one who had to talk to so many people yesterday- legal teams, PR, his team members, just to clear the air. And of course, people were still talking about everything. But the initial shock and widespread reaction from yesterday was already beginning to calm down. It was still a bit dark in the bedroom, and Steve was still asleep, his arms wrapped around you.

     You stretched to reach your phone on the side table and started scrolling. There were still articles up and pictures of you up, but Steve was working to wipe those out to protect your privacy. You chewed on your bottom lip worriedly. Even after this was all over, you’d have to figure out what the hell you were going to do. Would you have to stop camming? Would you have to throw away all hopes of any other career as well? This was all on your mind.

     Suddenly, Steve’s hand was wrapped around your phone, pulling it out of your grasp. He sighed sleepily, his voice still groggy and deep, 

     “What’d I tell you about that?”

     “I know…” you pouted, turning to face him. His eyes were closed, but you knew he was listening. “Shouldn’t keep looking for updates.”

     “Mm,” Steve hummed. “You’ll be alright, YN. I’ll make sure of that.”

     “Promise?” you asked.

     “I promise.”

That was all the reassurance you needed for now.

     Eventually, you both woke up and got ready for the day. You weren’t doing much of anything, since you’d have to stay low for a few days. But it meant you got to be in each other’s company all day, so you weren’t exactly complaining. You were laying in between Steve’s legs on the couch, your head resting on his chest. 

     Today was supposed to be your last day, but due to recent events, there had been a change in plans. You would probably stay here until this all settled, then go back to Cali and deal with business back home. Luckily for you, your friends were supportive all the way. They were astonished and shocked of course, but incredibly happy for you. They’d be there for you just as much as Steve would. 

     “You okay, doll?” Steve asked, and you glanced up at him.

     “Good as I can be. Are you okay?” you asked.

     “Better than yesterday,” Steve chuckled, his blue eyes glimmering. “My team is still working on taking down any private information about you, by the end of this week, we should be all good-”

     “Steve,” you flopped over, straddling his legs now. Instinctively, he reached up to caress your arm and your thigh. 

     “Hmm?” he hummed, looking up at you. 

     “What happens after this? I mean, as far as I’m concerned, any hopes of getting a serious job are kind of fucked now.”

     “That’s not true,” Steve furrowed his brows, frowning. He didn’t want you to feel like this incident would mess up your whole future.

     “Steve, I majored in environmental policy. That’s like, government job type shit. I have to be someone who’s reputable. And I don’t know many people who are looking to hire a porn star sugar baby. I mean, that’s what everyone’s been calling me.”

     “But you’re not that. And once we clear up all this, I promise you, no one will think that about you. you’ Besides, Stark Industries is always looking for people like that, you could work for-”

You put your finger to his lips, shaking your head with a small smile,

     “Ah ah ah. You know I like to do things myself.”

You didn’t want to just beat around the bush and take the easy way out of all this. You liked knowing that you were accomplishing what you were accomplishing all on your own. If you worked for Steve or his team, it would just feel like giving up.

     “I know, and I love that about you. But why make things so hard on yourself?”

You shrugged,

     “I don’t see it like that. I see it like… like making my own way. You know? I’d probably be set for life if I worked for Tony Stark. But… I don’t know, it’s just a thing I have. I like to get it myself.”

Steve sighed slowly, shaking his head with a sly smile. His girl, such a go-getter. That aspect of you was honestly a turn-on for him. You didn’t want anyone to be able to say they did something major for you, and even though there were flaws within that ideology, he had to give you credit where credit was due. You were a hard worker. You liked to do things on your own and know that you were where you were because of your own discipline and hard work. Not because your boyfriend had recommended you.

     “You are something else,” Steve shook his head.

     “Mm hmm,” you grinned knowingly, stretching your hands along his chest. 

     “Listen, I can’t predict the future. But I will be there for you. And I know how much you like to hustle and do things on your own, but it’s good to accept help sometimes, doll. And I want to help you through this. Don’t think the worst of everything. You’ve always managed, even in the worst of times. This is no different. No job you apply for is going to try to judge you, I can guarantee you that. I’ll make sure of that, no matter how much you try to stop me.”

You scoffed, smirking,

      “You’re such a guy.”

      “I do it for you.”

Accepting help. Maybe Steve was right. Just because you accepted someone’s help didn’t mean you hadn’t done something on your own. And when it came to something like this, you needed all the help you could get, even if you didn’t want to admit that. It didn’t make you any less of an independent woman. 

| | |

      You woke up to thousands more follower requests the next day as you ate breakfast sitting at the kitchen counter. Steve was at the stove, finishing up his own plate, and you were chewing your eggs pensively as you scrolled through your Instagram. Ever since the day everything went down, you’d been getting a lot of attention. Most of it was honestly unwanted. Magazines you actually read were DMing you, asking to interview you, wanting the inside scoop on “the life of Captain America’s girlfriend.” You didn’t pay them any mind, because that was attention you didn’t want. You cringed to think of yourself being interviewed by a reporter about personal matters for fifteen minutes of fame. 

     But the attention wasn’t all bad, and now that you thought about it, maybe your future wouldn’t be so scary. Whether you liked it or not, you were almost like a celebrity now, and celebrities always had their scandals and their speculations, and they still got booked. Maybe this was meant to be, to steer your life in a different direction. 

     It didn’t seem ideal, and you didn’t even want fame. You certainly didn’t want to be known as “Steve Rogers’ girlfriend.” If you knew one thing, it was that you were going to make a name out of yourself before people tried to make one for you. Now that you were thinking about it, you could honestly seize this opportunity. 

     Even the sales for your clothing brand had hiked up since that day. People actually took an interest in what you had to offer, and you’d rather they take an interest in that than your personal life. You had no real interest in becoming some mystical figure or some it girl who was on Steve’s arm. You were just a regular, hardworking girl from California, and you wouldn’t lose sight of that. But if this was going to happen, you were going to take advantage of it. 

     “Steve,” you said his name, and he turned to face you, putting his plate together.

     “Yeah?”

     “Look at my Instagram,” you pointed your phone screen towards him and he squinted. “All these follower requests. And I keep getting orders, this is insane.”

Steve grinned, beaming. He was glad that something good was coming out of all this for you. He knew you didn’t want or like attention, but this went to show that all eyes on you wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He knew you knew how to flip it and turn it into something beneficial for you. You weren’t the kind of girl to bask in attention just because. You would make something out of this. 

     “I’m proud, YN, honestly. You know that’s all you, right?”

You chuckled, shaking your head,

      “Kinda crazy to wrap my head around. I don’t wanna be this sensationalized person or this public figure, but, fuck. This isn’t at all how I imagined my life going. I could make something out of this. It’s such a turn around, but maybe it was supposed to happen.”

     “I’m sorry about all this unwanted attention. But if I know you, you’ll make it work.”

It was interesting, this unwanted celebrity. You had to accept that people would start to know you. You could capitalize off this and highlight your brand, make people pay attention to that instead of your private life. You could even put your studies to work and create an environmental company. You wouldn’t just work for Stark Industries, you’d create an industry of your own. Of course, this was all in theory, and you had to gather yourself before you did those things. But the fact that this was possible just because of some unwanted attention reminded you that you could always flip a bad situation into something ten times better.

| | |

     “Fuck, Steve, I can’t,” you were panting heavily, sweat dripping down your forehead as you grasped onto his biceps. 

      Safe to say, since you were laying low and there wasn’t much to do, this was a very reliable option, every time. Now that the stress of the past few days was winding down, you were finally able to focus on what you had both been neglecting, which was each other’s bodies. Every time Steve was inside you, it was as good as the first time, if not better. You’d been going at it for hours now, partially because Steve didn’t have anything else to do and his endurance was ridiculous. You almost wanted to slap his pretty face for being able to go so long like this, drawing out your pain and your pleasure so effortlessly, only to kiss his cheek afterwards. 

     “Yes you can, doll, I know you can,” Steve said, not nearly as breathless as you were— it was safe to say sex with Steve was a workout. “Come for me just one more time.”

     “Mm,” you whined, lifting yourself up with the help of Steve’s hands clasped beneath your shaking thighs, feeling him shift inside you. You cursed, biting down on your lip and glancing down at where you two met with your brows wrung together. 

You were a mess. Both you and Steve had already came multiple times, but Steve wasn’t in a rush. He was honestly handcrafted by the devil. And since you were together, Steve had grown so much more confident. You switched in bed, sometimes you took the lead and sometimes Steve did, and sometimes it wasn’t about who was in the lead. But right now, Steve had you about to beg for mercy. 

     “Fuck, that looks so good, just watching me stretch you out like that,” Steve groaned, his eyes lowering to watch you slowly drop up and down on his cock, which was coated in your slick arousal. “You like this? Riding me for hours, coming over and over again on my cock?”

You shuddered with an almost humiliating moan, nodding your head because you weren’t able to speak. But Steve wasn’t letting you off that easy. He gripped your jaw with his hand, prying your mouth open.

      “Use your words,” he said, nodding slowly and mouthing ‘yes.’

      “Yes,” you stuttered out, feeling as Steve pulsed inside of you. You sounded ridiculous, pathetic, and you knew you looked absolutely filthy in the best way possible. You began to ramble. “Yes, yes, I love when you take me like this and— fuck— force me to come for you.”

     “Mmm,” Steve hummed like he was taking your words into consideration, mulling it over in his mind. “Yeah. You love this. You look so pretty like this.”

Pretty wasn’t the word you’d use to describe it. It was messy. You were practically drooling, and your body felt as exposed as it had ever been. Steve’s own cum from the previous times he came was pouring out of you each time you slid down onto him, and you were incredibly wet still. The sound your bodies made meeting was almost criminal. You were hot and sticky and sweaty and still somehow ridiculously gorgeous to Steve, and you looked even better when he was torturing you with pleasure. 

     You gasped raggedly when Steve had the audacity to bring his fingers down to your clit, those thick, unforgettable fingers that he used to stretch you out every time before you took his cock, rubbing harsh circles against your sensitive clit. Your whole body seemed to shudder, and Steve chuckled lowly, not even trying to hide the smirk that appeared on his face. Oh, you would so be getting him back for this. 

     “That feel good, doll?”

     “Fuck,” you whined, your hand flinging to his wrist to keep his fingers there doing the same motion. 

      Your body seemed to tighten and coil up, your eyes squeezing shut before you let go, and before you knew it, you were cumming on his cock. Or more like squirting, the way it seemed never ending and made your whole body convulse. Steve groaned as you soaked his torso and his legs, stilling yourself on his length and riding your orgasm out. He must have come inside you a few times while you were squirting. Wet tears, the good, hot kind, were forming down your cheeks as you come for what feels like the hundredth time in the span of a few slow, tantalizing hours. 

      “There you go, darling, I knew you could do it,” Steve finally pulled out of you, still hard against his stomach. He reached up and wiped the tears off your face. “Now do that again on my face.”

Fuck. You’d get him back another day.

| | |

      “Oh fuck, right there,” you sighed in ecstasy. 

     Steve’s hands were kneading into your back with expertise. He seemed to know just what he was doing, relieving all the tension from your spine and shoulders, and god knows you needed it. It had been about a week since the news came out, and everything seemed much less urgent now. 

     Reports about you two were dwindling, especially because you had stayed lowkey and didn’t flaunt your relationship about town. But it was almost freeing that you had the liberty to do so now, even if your relationship had been unfairly exposed. At least now, you could go out together without wondering if you’d get caught. 

     Steve chuckled and finished up, rolling off of you and facing you on the bed, his eyes glittering as he smiled at you. 

      “You know,” you started, reaching your hand out to stroke his cheek. “I’m kinda glad this all happened. Is that selfish?” 

      “No,” Steve grinned, shaking his head and reveling in the touch of your hand on his cheek. He grasped your wrist, gazing into your eyes. 

      These past few months had been such a whirlwind for the both of you. The both of you were doing things that surprised you, that made you endlessly happy. Steve had never felt more grateful for anything or anyone in his life. You helped him grow, and he did the same for you. He couldn’t see his future without you, and he didn’t even want to imagine it. He knew you were irreplaceable, he knew this was meant to be. Your odd circumstances and the unconventional way you met seemed to emphasize that truth. There was a reason why he had been so blue without you, and there was a reason why he had come back. Deep down, he knew all along that it was worth it, that you were worth it. Nothing else had ever been so clear to him, especially in that moment, gazing into your deep, warm eyes. 

His heart blossomed with that irrevocable feeling, and before he could stop himself, the words were bubbling out of his mouth, 

      “I love you.”

You didn’t have to think, didn’t have to second guess yourself before you replied. You knew it all along, it was just a matter of time before one of you actually said it. And now, after you’d been through so much together, after you’d taught each other so much, and healed from so much as a collective, there was no reluctance. You weren’t scared to admit that it was true.

      “I love you,” you said, with a soft grin and a dreamy look in your eyes.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there together, looking at each other and kissing and holding each other, but it was enough time to make you forget the world. 

ayeeee!!! as a bonus, i’m including this lil thing i made, it’s supposed to be what i imagine moonrose’s IG to look like! the pictures are not her faceclaims, they’re just black women that i imagine moonrose to look like LMAO but she’s free to look like whatever u want her to ♡ this is her aesthetic!!

ENJOY! new chapter soon hopefully!!!!

tags added later ♡ 

[themarvellouswriter]

FIX ME UP

OMEGA! BUCKY BARNES X ALPHA! READER

Summary: The cute EMT has a very snarky personality and the pretty trauma surgeon isn’t a fan.

Genres: Slight smut, fluff and slight angst. Mostly fluff though.

Words: 2.6k

Notes: This is actually my first A/B/O fic.

Warnings: 16+, Dub con, Non con if you squint. But everyone ends up happy I promise. Not beta read yet, will do it later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday, 20:37

“Doctor L/N! This is the last one. 30 year old beta male. Broken arm and concussion. BP is slightly elevated. O2 levels normal.”

“Thanks Sam. Please take him to med bay 5 and have Doctor Feldman to give him a full check up,” you call out from where you’re examining another patient, a fifteen year old female omega. She’s looking up at you in awe.

“What?” You give her a small smile as you finish looking over her reports.

“Nothing, its just that you’re an alpha and you’re so much in control when nobody lets unmated alphas near newly minted omegas.”

You laugh. “I have more self control than all the people in this entire building. And I don’t get that affected by omega scents. So, there’s that.”

You close the folder. “Well, good news. I’ll draw up a rough schedule of your medicine and you’ll be as good as new in a few weeks.” She smiles up at you. “Thank you doctor. Nobody took me seriously when I told them I wanted to be an omega athlete. They’re always telling me that its for betas and alphas. I hate it when people say that.”

“You know, I used to hate it when people used to tell me that I couldn’t be an surgeon because I was an alpha. Look who’s laughing now. Never let people tell you what you can and can’t do.” She nods determinedly as you take your leave.

You step outside for a breath of fresh air. Your thirty hour shift is about to be over in about an hour and you couldn’t wait to get home and prepare for your upcoming rut. You had been on your feet for what felt like days and all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep for hours.

You spy a haphazardly parked EMT van. Curious you make your way over, wrapping your white coat closer to your body. “Sam? Is this one yours?” You say yanking open the front side door of the ambulance. There is a figure slumped over the steering wheel, breathing heavily. Long dark hair falling over their face. You sniff. “Barnes?” The person in question turns slightly. “Ugh. Of all the people to find me here. It had to be you.” You roll your eyes at his irritated voice. “If its that much of a problem how about I walk away like I never saw you?” You move to close the door. “Wait, no. Stop. I need my meds. I ran out. And Sam left so can you please…?” Your doctor side took over, ignoring the previous and very mutual hostility between the two of you. 

You pull him back to the seat. His face is flushed and he’s sweating profusely. You take a deep breath, making him flinch slightly. “So, you’re an omega. Should’ve figured. I’m assuming you ran out of suppressants and now you’re about to go into heat?”

He presses his lips into a thin line. “Alright smarty pants, can I get them? Or do you need my doctor’s note?” Your mouth twitches, fighting a smirk. “How about I do you one better?”

You unclip his seat belt and rest your hand on his waist. He stares at you mouth ajar. “What’re -” “Relax, I’m not going to hate fuck you in an ambulance. I’m taking you to the Omega Ward. You’ll be safe there.” He looks taken aback, opening his mouth to protest. “Be quiet and get out.” He shakily climbs out, legs nearly giving away as his feet touch the ground. You catch him in your arms, alpha strength making you lift him up with ease. He’s trembling in your arms, eyes clouding as his body approaches the initial stages of going into heat. He buries his face into your neck. “I still hate you but you smell so good.” You snort as you carry him inside bridal style. “Dumbass.”

All eyes are on you as you walk in, your archenemy Barnes tucked in your arms. People literally stopping in their tracks to look at you.

“Has nobody ever seen an omega in heat? In a hospital of all places? I mean is it really that weird?” Your voice is sharp and cuts across the room like a knife. “Get back to work.” Doctors Feldman and Pravesh, your friends from the ER, give you a surprised look as you walk past them. You mouth ‘I’ll explain later’ at them, as you make your way to the lift.

Barnes looks up at you, eyes wide, pupils blown. The pretty blue of his eyes almost black now. You swallow as his rich, dark extremely familiar omega scent invades your senses.

“Thank you.”

“Its my duty.”

“Not everyone would do it. Especially if they hate the person in question.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You open your mouth to object but are cut off as the lift open and a wayward hand makes it way towards Barnes. You take a quick step back. Another alpha stares at you, eyes filled with lust. His eyes move to the body in your arms. You feel him shift closer to you, fear mixing in his scent. You growl threateningly at the stranger who immediately runs out of the lift at the sound. You enter and use your elbow to hit the button to the basement where Omega Ward is.

Barnes looks up at you with glassy eyes and rubs his nose against the underside of your jaw. “That’s ticklish and wildly inappropriate Barnes.” “Bucky.” “What?” “Call me Bucky.” You clench your jaw as the top of his head moves along your neck. “Bucky. Stop. You’re going to be nesting in a very safe space soon. You won’t need an alpha.” “Say it again.” “Say what?” “Say my name.” You finally look down at him, dark hair spread across your shoulder, eyes glittering in the dim light. “Bucky.” You whisper in his ear. The omega throws his head back and lets out the most sinful moan you’ve ever heard. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself and hoist him upright. Cradling him tightly you nearly run out of the lift as it opens.

You stop at the reception and check him in. One of the sweet smelling beta nurses leads you to a small room and you deposit Barnes, Bucky, on the bed and then dump a pile of blankets on top of him. “Nic will be taking care of you, for as long as you need. You guys are friends, right?” His gaze moves to the blonde nurse who just walked in to join you. “Hey, Buck. You tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you. Anything at all.” He gives you a sad look as you turn away.

You give her a slight nod and walk out, shutting the door behind you. “You smell like him now,” Nic says from behind you. “Don’t remind me.” You sigh and go back to your floor, still about 40 minutes before you’re done with your shift. Conrad Hawkins, your best friend since high school, meets you as you step out. “So, Barnes, huh?” You roll your eyes. “Like the other betas here, who actually listen to me, why don’t you?” “Just saying. You hate him and you carried him to the OW. When there was a perfectly good gurney here.” He tilts his head towards the ER. “Oh my gawd, stop. I am an alpha taking advantage of an omega in heat. I think I scented him.” He snorts with laughter. “You think. When you growled at the guy in the lift, the entire floor heard it. And the dude pissed himself.” You grin. “Nice,” you nod appreciatively.

“I would love to continue this riveting dicussion about Barnes’ heat and Y/N’s idiocy but we have a surgery to get to,” Mina Okafor seems to pop out of nowhere and drags you away with Conrad still laughing behind you. “I don’t have any. My shift is about to get over.” “Too bad. Its a whipple and Doctor Austin wants you there.” You sigh for what feels like the millionth time that day. “There is somebody out there who hates me.” “One thing’s for sure.” “What?” “Its definitely not Barnes. You stink of him.” You give her an exasperated shove as you both begin your preparations for the surgery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday, 7:45

You dragged yourself out of the OR, pulling off the bloodstained garments off and throwing them away. You made your way to the Omega Ward to check up on Bucky Barnes. It felt weird to call him Bucky, you guys weren’t exactly enemies but had never gotten along for some reason. He was excellent when it came to disguising himself as an ordinary beta. But he wasn’t ordinary at all. And you knew it, felt it deep inside when you looked at him. Something special and so inherently Bucky about him. Even though the both of you never got along and rarely agreed on things, you couldn’t deny the feeling of protectiveness that rose within you when you saw him. With his soft brown hair and big blue eyes, the toothy smile, the razor sharp wit and general overall perfection it was impossible to not fall in love with him. You froze in your tracks at the sudden thought, stopping right outside the Ward. In love with Bucky Barnes? The salty EMT with whom you liked to butt heads? Thinking about all your encounters only added fuel to the fire that you loved him. And given the way he was looking at you with those soft, lust lidded, ocean coloured eyes and practically breathing in your scent, you were mostly sure he felt the same way.

You gave Nic a small grin, walking past her and pushing open the door of Bucky’s room only to be greeted with the overwhelming smell of an Omega in heat, strong enough to make even your knees weak. Taking in a deep breath, you walked inside to give his vitals a quick once over. He was huddled in a corner, tee shirt drenched with sweat and face flushed, eyes tightly shut, softly moaning your name as his hand pumped his length and brought him closer to the edge. Your eyes went wide as you saw him climax to the sound of your name, grateful that the rooms in the Omega Ward were soundproof. He hadn’t realised that you were in the room yet, you felt a bit relieved, inwardly knowing that his heat was distracting him from everything else around him. You finally knelt beside him, cupping his face in your hands, making him open his eyes and look at you. You gave him a genuine smile, brushing the sweat off his brow. His dazed expression slowly morphs into one of panic and absolute mortification.

“Oh my god, how long have you been here?”

“Long enough to know that you want me to help you through your heat.”

“This is humiliating.”

“Not really. I just had an epiphany and given the way you’re reacting to me touching you, I think you did too.”

“I’ve been in love with you the second I saw you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise that I love you sooner, it would’ve saved us a bunch of heats and ruts spent alone.”

“Agreed. Now are you going to keep talking or take me back to your place before the next wave of my heat sets in?”

“I thought you’d be more comfortable in your place?”

“I want you to consume me. And your place, with all that is you is the best place for you to take me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I trust you.”

“Is that the heat talking?”

“Not at all.”

“Great. My place it is.”

You don’t even remember how you brought Bucky back to your place, swaddled in blankets and smelling so absolutely divine. You tucked him in bed, feeling the first onset of your rut come on as you tinkered in the kitchen, making sure you had enough for the next few days and joining him as fast as you could. You curled your fingers in his soft hair before pulling him into a deep kiss and straddling him. His hands were placed firmly on your hips, holding you so close and you felt a rush of delight at having him so close to you. He was nearly intoxicated by your presence, breathless as he pulled your shirt off hands touching everywhere. Feeling a soft laugh bubble up you grinned at him. “So perfect.” The tips of his ears turned scarlet at your words, making you coo softly and pinch his cheeks before kissing him again. Your rut was making you more sensitive to his touch and it felt so good. For a moment you just wanted to soak in everything but there would be time for that later. Right now, Bucky was the priority.

Pushing him back in bed and pulling off his uniform was easy. Taking the entirety of his massive length in your mouth was not. So you started slow, all the while maintaining eye contact as you teasingly, tantalizingly began to suck him off. His hands found their way to your hair, harshly tugging the roots, begging you to go faster and the moans escaping his perfect mouth were nearly a sensory overload. And he felt so good, so perfect and pliant under you. Achingly beautiful and you had no idea how you’d managed to leave him alone for so long. He was now only all yours and you weren’t going to let anyone near him. You were an alpha and nobody was going to even look at what was yours. He came shortly, much sooner than you’d anticipated as you licked your lips before trailing warm kisses up his chest, ignoring the exhaustion that was threatening to overwhelm your body. You sank your teeth into his neck, his warm blood filling your mouth and spilling down his chest as you marked him as yours. He looked at you wide eyed and you felt horror set in as you realised what you’d done, backing away.

“You marked me as your mate.”

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry. You look so beautiful and perfect and my rut is going to set in anytime-” You babbled away, frantically waving your hands.

“I’m not complaining. And why is my mate now so far away? I need my alpha.”

You stared at him in disbelief before throwing yourself at him and holding him tightly.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Just waiting for you to have your way with me.” He admits, slightly shy now.

“And I will because I love you so much.”

“I love you too Y/N. You’re the best alpha I could ever ask for.”

You don’t say anything, finally letting the exhaustion set in knowing there would be enough time to talk things out later, now that you both belonged to each other forever. And sleeping in his arms felt like heaven. It would feel even better when you both were fully ready to take things as they come. Before you finally drifted off you felt him smile against your skin and could almost see your co – workers’ smug faces when you both showed up freshly mated and smelling like each other and looking like young idiots in love. And you wouldn’t give it up for the world.

[pies-writes-and-more]

AVENGERS M A S T E R L I S T

**SERIES**

Falling Masterlist Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Collaboration with @wxstedhexrt​ // poetry focused fics! // TW: anxious thoughts, disassociation experiences and others so please read the warnings in each part! Based on poems written by the incredible Destiny of @wxstedhexrt! Bucky Barnes is falling in so many different kinds of ways - he’s falling in and out of his brain, in and out of reality, in and out of nightmares... and falling in love? Maybe this is the one he doesn’t want to fall out of.

Mr. Steve ( part 1 // part 2 ) Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Soulmate AU In a universe where your soulmate’s name is written on your wrist after you meet them, receiving a wedding invitation from her friend is just another reminder that (Y/N) has yet to find her soulmate. But maybe this wedding will be a little bit more exciting, with the help of a tiny child without a filter.

can’t take my mind off of you, Mr. Steve Rogers ( part 1 // part 2 // part 3 ) - COMPLETED Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Steve Rogers and (Y/N) used to date. Emphasis on the used to. But when an important date from their relationship comes up, it stirs up some emotions too. As if to add to the fire, (Y/N) bumps into an old friend who suggests that maybe Steve’s feelings towards (Y/N) aren’t quite gone. And even though it’s hard to admit, especially because she has a new boyfriend, maybe (Y/N)’s feelings aren’t gone either.

Must’ve Been the Wind ( part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 ) - COMPLETED Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Song Inspo: Must’ve Been the Wind by Alec Benjamin // requested TW: mentions of abusive relationship that (Y/N) is involved in, not too graphic in my opinion but please be wary reading if it may trigger something for you.  The girl in the apartment above Bucky’s seems to be in some sort of distress, though she insists that Bucky’s just hearing things. The two bond quickly and soon enough, Bucky wants to rescue her from a situation that she insists isn’t there. Is he just hearing the wind? Or is it a cry for help?

Unlovable ( part 1 // part 2 // part 3 ) - COMPLETED Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader There’s one other person besides Steve that makes Bucky feel comfortable in the era he’s not supposed to be in. She makes him feel safe, never pushes him to do anything, and that smile always makes his stomach flip. But a situation without clear communication leaves both Bucky and (Y/N) unsure of if the other feels the same about them.

**Domestic/Homely!Steve Collection ( Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader ) :

Home  After months without hearing from his wife and daughter, Steve just wants to be home. He doesn’t care if he could be hurt from his fights, he just wants to see his little girl and the woman he loves. (The beginning of my Homely!Steve Collection!)

Grocery Shopping Steve wants to help out any way he can at home since he’s gone so often. But grocery shopping without a list can be a little stressful, especially with a little mischievous girl.

A Kid’s Imagination When (Y/N) goes to pick up Sarah from school, she’s met with an odd response from the teacher about an announcement Sarah made to her classmates. Rather than talk to Steve about it, she decides to have a little fun with it.

Santa Claus Steve’s back from a long mission and all he wants to do is be with his wife and little girl. Thankfully, they’re not too far from home… and Steve has the perfect Christmas plan to surprise them.

kidnapped.... or pretzels? Steve wakes up in the dead of night to find an empty bed beside him. His mind immediately goes to the worst case scenario as to what could’ve happened to the love of his life, (Y/N). 

Dance Recitals If there's one thing that Steve Rogers loves, it's watching his little girl learn how to dance. So he goes out of his way to make sure he doesn't miss too many of her practices. Now, he has to find out how to not miss her first dance recital...

** Stay tuned for more! Send in a request if you think of some cute Dad!Steve Rogers prompts!!**

**ONE SHOTS**

Dinner and a Show Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // done for a writing challenge // prompt: “This is one of those moments when I tell you something isn’t a good idea and you ignore me, isn’t it?” The one where Steve impulsively insists on proving that Y/N’s date for the evening is trash instead of figuring out his feelings for her, meanwhile, Bucky learns that food is way overpriced lol

accidentally ruining relationships Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader  Y/N spends the evening desperately looking for answers about her love life with her close friend, Bucky. Maybe the reason her relationships aren’t working out is because her heart belongs to another. 

A French Kiss Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Alternative Universe Fic // based on a tweet Y/N came to Paris with a plan: take a photo with a cute man next to the Eiffel Tower, just like how her and cheating ex-boyfriend had always planned on doing, and make that son of a bitch jealous. Thankfully, there’s a super cute blond guy who just so happens to be nearby.

Makeshift Thanksgiving Dinner+ Steve Rogers x Fem!EastAsian!Reader Steve Rogers is beyond nervous to finally be meeting his girlfriend's parents. Especially when it's a meeting for Thanksgiving dinner... though (Y/N) neglects to mention until they're almost there that her east asian family doesn't usually have a typical 'American' Thanksgiving dinner... (Super fluffy I promise :))

Take a Hint Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader (Y/N) literally just wants to go out and have a good time with her girls. So why do guys seem to never take ‘no’ for an answer? To try to prevent more annoying encounters with men who can’t take a hint, (Y/N) slips on two rings onto her left hand and assumes the married life. It’s all well and good... until someone sees the rings as a challenge. Enter from stage right, our hero.

boardroom fantasies NSFW, 18+ only, S M U T // Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // done for a prompt challenge // prompt: “You wanna have sex….here? Now?” Steve can’t help how tight his pants get when (Y/N) is working nearby. While everyone else goes out for drinks, he pulls her aside to show her that the Accounting Guy who keeps asking her out isn’t who she should be with.

Holiday Kiss Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Christmas fic Bucky is a little tired of Christmas traditions for the day but with (Y/N) around, there’s just one more tradition he’d like to give a try. 

Anxiety Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // TW: lots of anxious thoughts based on my own so be careful if this is a trigger for you! Today’s the day Steve comes back from a mission and (Y/N) is beyond excited to see him. But when you have a little Anxiety monster whispering believable nonsense in your ear, it’s hard to get out of your head.

5 ways Steve Rogers says I Love You (and 1 way he doesn’t) Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // sad ending so if you don’t wanna be sad, don’t read the last bit lol Steve Rogers loves you and here’s just a collection of ways he shows it. But not everything has a happy ending.

Healthy Competition Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader // SURPRISE PAIRING // requested It’s not every day that the boys are all infatuated with the same human being. So when they realize they’re all falling head over heels for one girl, Steve insists some ground rules need to be laid out. Little do they know, there’s one person already that (Y/N) is swooning over.

home is a person Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Post inspo: “Someone asked me to describe home and I started talking about your hair colour and the sound of your voice and the taste of your lips and how your skin feels like. Until I realized they had expected to hear a place.” When asked what home was like in a conversation about their past lives, Bucky Barnes immediately thinks of something other than his 1940s home. He thinks of her.

The Waitress Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // done for a writing challenge // song prompt: “If things get worse, will you still be here?” 405 by This Wild Life Steve Rogers has finally worked up the guts to ask out the super cute waitress at the diner he frequents… except it’s hard to ask out of a girl when you’re a) already super nervous, b) unsure if it’s rude to ask her out, and c) when you have Dumb and Dumber insisting they tag along.

Fate’s Ribbon Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Soulmate AU Fate ties a ribbon to every baby that’s born. It’s black to everyone else but your soulmate, who sees it as bright red. Bucky Barnes doesn’t want a soulmate, especially after becoming a completely different person than he was in the 40s. But you can’t run away from what Fate has planned for you.

Happy Moments Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // prompt list // requested Prompts: a perfectly brewed cup of tea and dust floating in golden sunlight Steve Rogers has a few happy moments stored in his brain for when times got tough. He thinks about each of them and how they’re each a part of him. But in this moment, this place, he was happiest.

Probability Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Steve Rogers is an insecure little bum sometimes. But he’s 75% sure that the girl of his dreams shares his affections… okay 70%…. maybe less….

Fate’s Sense of Humour Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Soulmate AU Everyone is born with a soulmark, generally a signature or some sort of mark to define who this person was. And when you meet your soulmate, your mark gets darker and darker. Everyone is born with this. Except Steve Rogers. He had practically given up on finding someone to be with without a soulmark, until he wakes up from the ice to find a faded grey signature on his arm.

Jealous (Strong) Steve Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // requested Steve Rogers, the man behind the shield, knows that his strength only came from an injection. He isn’t a Norse god, how could he compete against Thor who seems to have all of (Y/N)’s affections? Steve Rogers is a jealous man. A strong jealous man who just keeps breaking things.

Studying Anatomy Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // requested Steve loves his girlfriend very much, so when she practically begs for him to help her study for her anatomy test, how can he say no?

Young But Sure Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // requested Sometimes people have different wants for their future. Sometimes their future includes a pet, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes people want to live in the country, and some just want to live in the middle of the city. Steve Rogers wants kids… and he assumed that his girlfriend did too.

Nosebleeds Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader A Stark Industries tradition was that every year, interns, agents, admins, and all the Avengers were asked to join in on a volleyball tournament. And every year (Y/N)’s team wins. She expected to have some fierce competition from the Captain’s team… she expected wrong.

Coming Home Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader No matter how long he was gone, (Y/N) always slept on the couch when Steve was away on missions so she could be the first thing he saw when he came back. Steve is happy to be home with the girl he loves.

Kiss (* Endgame Spoilers *) Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader He just looked so hot, the fire in his eyes, ready to fight. (Y/N) just can’t help herself, she just needs a kiss before they go off to their potential deaths.

Blue Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Steve in blue is too much to handle whilst sober, (Y/N) decides. So while attending Tony Stark’s birthday party, (Y/N) doesn’t stop to drink her anxiety away making for entertaining company for Steve.

Pizza and the Medical Student Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // College Roommates AU // requested (Y/N) just wants to study for her final. Steve wants to keep her happy. Bucky wants them to just admit their goddamn feelings for each other already.

**Super Cringy-ish Older Fics I Wrote that I Don’t Have Good Summaries For**

[peeterparkr]

perfidy;tom holland|9

chapter 9: the polaroid

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: tim, tom and the broken ankle

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings:  swearing, alcohol mention, angst, smut (skip the * if you don’t want to read it), car sex, marriage mention 

word count: 7.7k

here’s a playlist

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) : tweets, Instagram and a text

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wanna be tagged?

Hi, to make up for not posting yesterday, have a longer chapter.Tell me what you think. Stay safe. 

When seeing a story there’s always a before and after the story. If it doesn’t matter, then it shouldn’t be said. 

Problem is, it mattered to y/n, and Tom. Who were each dealing with a problem that technically shouldn’t matter to them but it did. It really did. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be talking about it. 

Tim had been kind enough to drive her to her building, but she had kept on talking, cueing Tim to follow after her, and when she hadn’t used the lift, Tim knew something was up. Because when y/n took the stairs, it meant she really didn’t want to go home yet. It’s something he had caught during their relationship. Sure, Tim may have not known her since children like the Hollands, but Tim had been the one to actually observe her. He had learned because he wanted to, not because he had lived with it. 

And he knew y/n didn’t do it on purpose, she probably didn’t even know she did it. But Tim followed after her knowing she probably really had to talk about it. 

Tim had regretted the breakup the moment it had happened because he had been the one to give up. But he thought he needed a breakup, because it was getting repetitive, not because he had stopped loving her. Especially not because of the reason for the breakup. They hadn’t really addressed it yet. Not again. He knew they had been on different stages of their relationship, but he never really thought how far off of each other they were. The worst part about their breakup was how aware he was that they still loved each other. 

He watched her as she was making her way up. 

“It’s wrong, right? This is wrong. You see it too, right?” She asked him. 

Timmy chuckled, “what is? The fact you’re not using the stairs?” 

“I… No, the fact that,” y/n stopped midway. “I… The fact that Harry and Emma are engaged.” 

“Why is it wrong?” Tim bit his lip. “They love each other.” 

“But… is it love really?” Y/N crossed her arms looking up. “No, no, I know it’s love it’s just…”

“What do you mean, y/n?” Tim dug his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the wall knowing y/n would probably sit any moment now.

“I don’t know … I know love and it,” she sighed as she finally slid her way down to sit on the stair. 

Tim smiled watching her but then sat beside her. “They do love each other.” 

“Well, yes they do,” she sighed, “I’m just…”

Tim watched her. 

“Harry asked me about it, and I told him not to do it and he did anyway?” She frowned. 

Tim chuckled softly, “you’re angry Harry didn’t listen to you for the first time.” 

Y/n shook her head. “Not really… but I am his best friend! And I’m sure Sam said no too, I talked about it with Sam, his twin brother and best friend told him to wait. And he didn’t.” 

“Why does he need to wait?”

“He’s young… he’s 22 and…wait at least until you turn 24, man, I dunno.” 

Timmy laughed. “But what does age have to do with that?”

“But think about it, Tim. It’s soon in their relationship.” 

“Maybe, but who’s to judge timing when it comes to love?” 

She sighed, “we wouldn’t know much about timing but…” 

Tim scrunched his nose. “You’re right I wouldn’t.” 

She closed her eyes. “Tim it’s .. not that.” 

He gave her a sad smile, “What is it really?”

She stayed quiet and leaned against the wall. Timmy watched her, and pushed a strand of her hair back. 

“I love Emma, alright? I seriously… she’s one of the best friends that could’ve come into my life,” y/n started. 

“But?” Timmy rested his head on his hand. 

She chuckled watching him. “But I know Harry.” 

“You know Harry,” Timothee agreed. 

“I’ve known him his whole life literally and—“

“So then you know he is in love with her,” Tim added.

Y/N bit her lip. “I know many things about Harry.”

Tim nodded. “Then?” 

“I think he’s not being fair,” she said. “He is… it’s just, they’re too young…”

“Too young?” Timothee watched her. “I think you’re just scared of marriage, y/n.” 

Y/N froze. “I’m not…”she suddenly turned colder. “but they’re not ready.” 

“How do you know that?” He asked.

She raised her hands. “It’s obvious!” 

“Well when I asked you, you said no because you weren’t ready and- if she said yes then it means she was ready.” 

“Tim.” 

“You said it, didn’t you? you said ‘I’m not ready and that’s why I’m saying no’.” 

“But I knew I wasn’t ready,” she gulped. 

Tim coughed. “And will you ever be?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Timmy.” 

“I, well, y/n, you know I’m willing to wait a lifetime for you, but…”

She stood up. “This wasn’t about us.” 

Timothee sighed. “Well, we hadn’t talked about it.” 

“I—-well…”

Timothee stood up. “I’m sorry y/n, but breaking up when knowing we both love each other isn’t easy, I mean we basically broke up because I loved you so much I proposed.” 

She glanced away. “That wasn’t the reason why we broke up.” 

“No, I know,” Tim dug his hands in his pockets. “it was leading towards it for a while, didn’t it?”

“No, I… Tim, I don’t want...look, I… I meant about Harry…” she sat back down. 

“I think you’re just scared that Harry shouldn’t have done it for the same reason as to why you said no,” Timmy pointed out. 

“It’s a completely different situation,” she frowned. 

“Is it really?” Tim day on a lower step. “Because I know you said no because you’re unsure about your feelings towards someone else.” 

She didn’t say anything for a bit. Maybe she didn’t want to admit it to herself. 

“No, Tim it wasn’t that.” 

“I’m…”he took a deep breath. “I’m okay with it, y/n, as okay as I can be.” 

“Tim.” 

“Look, I’ve seen the way you look at him,” he shrugged. 

She stood up and climbed upstairs nervously. “Tim, no, let’s not have his conversation, please I’m already struggling.” 

He closed his eyes. “I know, I see that,” he said as he rushed after her and stopped her. 

“See what?”

He scoffed. “The way you look at Tom? Maybe? God, y/n.”

“With pure hatred?” She defended herself as she let out a lsugh.  “Tim please I don’t really want to have this—“she kept going upstairs. 

“I think you should go for it,” he mentioned. 

She stopped and looked back at him. “What?” 

“Yes, go for it,” Tim insisted. “isn’t that kind of the reason we broke up?”

“No, Tim, let’s not go there,” she pushed.

“Y/N,” Timothee calmly followed after her. “we were friends before all of this and I know, I think… I think you should try something with him.”

She was confused, Tim tried to map out the emotions she was going through. She licked her lips as she only watched him. Tim only gave her a gentle reassuring smile. But of course she was perplexed, a man who claimed to love her telling her to go with someone else. 

“What?” She asked. 

“Give it a go.” 

“You’re insane.” 

He finally stepped on the same level as her. “Y/N, you loved him once, and I know there is still that feeling pounding your head.”

“And what would I even do?”

“Dunno, that I don’t want to know, but let yourself fall for him and then you’ll know it. Give it a go.” 

She bit her inner cheeks. “I would never give it a go again because he’s hurt me before, alright? My heart can’t bear that again, and I don’t feel anything—“

“There it is,” Tim chuckled. “So something has happened before.” 

She gulped and looked away. “Not really, no.”

“Are you sure?”

“I did have feelings for him,” she admitted. 

Tim laughed. “That’s brand new information!”

“Timmy.” 

“I am very aware y/n and he has feelings for you,” he pushed.

She rolled her eyes, and kept walking, Tim only followed after her. “That’s the part where I know you’re crazy.” 

He watched her with disbelief. “He looks at you the same way I look at you.” 

She laughed cynically. “No Tim, he doesn’t...maybe he looks with lust, I dunno he’s a devil.”

“Nono, I’m very observant, y/n,” he reminded her. “and I mean you do this with everyone,” he scoffed. “but you take his breath away.” 

“No.” 

“And lately he takes your breath away.” 

“No, Tim.” 

“I honestly,” Tim rubbed his face. “and I hate saying this,” he commented. “you don’t know how much I hate saying this y/n but I really think you should try something... get rid of that feeling you have because I know you, you probably have that little thought roaming in your head,” he pushed her hair back. “Go and try something with Tom, ask him out.” 

“Tim.” 

“You know you want another heartbreak from Tom,”he sentenced. “and if it takes another heartbreak for you to realize we’re meant to be then…” he shrugged, as his hands landed on her waist. 

“Timothee,” she said breathlessly.

“I’ll be here if you want to be in love, I’ll be here when he breaks your heart.” 

“Timmy.”

He stepped closer. “You know we’re perfect for each other.” 

She looked away. “Sometimes too perfect.” 

“But if you love Tom,” he let her go and stepped back. 

She frowned. “I don’t…”she confessed. “I should focus on my writing instead.” 

He followed once again after her, as she finally reached her apartment. 

“Ah yes, tell me what’s the story?”

She looked at the door, and laughed to herself. “I’m writing about falling in love.”

He chuckled. “Such an irony isn’t it.”

You wouldn’t believe it

He leaned against the door not letting her get in. “And how is that going?” 

“It’s… going, I am writing about someone falling in love with someone, the truth is I don’t know what makes people fall in love.” 

Tim smiled. “Hm, want me to tell you what made me fall in love with you?” He leaned close to her, making her blush. 

“Do tell.” She watched him, and she did exactly what he had expected her to do. She looked him in both eyes, her sight traveling from one eye to another..

“The way you look into both my eyes,” he grinned. 

She gloomed. “Hm?”

“You do this thing y/n,” but he couldn’t look away from seeing her. “when you look at both of them, your eyes travel, people usually only look at one eye but you always make sure to look at both, to make sure people know you really listen.”

She Cackled nervously. “And that’s what made you fall for me? That I probably can’t focus enough on one eye,” she appealed as she tried to search for her keys.

“Hey, I’m only starting okay? I love the way you’re so… you, you know? The way you don’t care about what everyone says, the way you—“he places his hand on her face. “The way you are brilliant, and so passionate and—ardent and—“

“Those are synonyms.” 

“And the way you don’t take bullshit from anyone,” he continued laughing as she finally opened the door, she didn’t walk in, she leaned against the door watching him.

“I give that vibe off yet—“she chuckled. “But you know? Does that make people fall in love?”

Tim only rested his arm right above her and watched her. “Dunno,” he gulped. “Maybe? Or maybe it’s the little details, the props, you know? Flower pots… it’s the moments y/n, a walk under the rain, losing breath after laughing,” he continued, as he could smell her perfume, and he heard her hands mingling with her keys. She was shaking, and Tim knew that her heartbeat was going fast, maybe not as fast as his. He knew she loved him. “Or a coffee in the morning, a kiss…” and he knew she wanted this too, so he didn’t hesitate on leaning over to give her a quick peck to taste the remaining cherry on her lips. He had seen her nibbling on cherries the whole day, supposedly they were for the drinks but Tim knew she loved the sweet taste of the sugary fruits.

She kissed him back, slowly and scared. But then she pushed him away. 

“No, Tim, please I can’t do this to you,” she confessed as he watched her. 

“Do what?” 

“No, no, I—“She looked down. “Tim I am really not—I don’t want to hurt you, alright? I need time… I…” 

He watched her. 

“This is too complicated,” she squeezed her eyes closed. 

Tim sighed as he walked back. “‘It’s alright,” he took a deep breath. “But just so you know, y/n, I am not giving up yet.” 

She sighed with a small smile. “Timmy.” 

“Tom will never be able to kiss you that way, I’m sure,” he pushed. “I’m sorry, I’ll… I’ll leave now. See you on set.” 

“Tim…” she looked up at him. “I’m sorry.” 

And he left, not knowing who had had their heart most broken. But he didn’t want to think about it. He used the elevator. 

Meanwhile, Tom was also freaking out over the sudden news of the engagement. 

“I don’t want to tell Harry he fucked up but he fucked up didn’t he? I love Emma and I know he loves her but this is wrong,” Tom said. 

“Yeah… I mean,” Haz didn’t really want to go over this with his best friend as he had already heard him talk and talk and talk about it on the ride.

“Getting married? That’s… crazy,” Tom continued.

“No, getting married is not crazy.” Haz rolled his eyes. 

“No I know but,” Tom opened his fridge to get a beer as he threw one at Haz.

“But what?” Haz asked as he opened it.

“The timing…” Tom took a long sip. 

“Doesn’t that just come in perfect time for you?” Haz pointed out. 

Tom frowned. “What do you mean?”

Harrison laughed. “Look, Tom, I didn’t ask much into it before but you are in love with y/n, and that is a big deal,” he commented. 

Tom coughed. “Not really...shit it’s weird you know.”

“I’d say I’m surprised,” Haz admitted. “but now that I’ve been thinking about it all day, you haven’t been subtle about it.”

Tom looked away. “What?” 

Haz chuckled and stared at him, incredulous. 

Tom waited for an explanation. 

“Come on,” Haz pushed. “The way you hate on Tim, they way that even if you claim to hate her—“

“I do hate her,” Tom interrupted.

“Even if you claim to hate her,” Haz emphasized. “You're always there.” 

Tom rolled his eyes. “Well but that’s because she’s important to my family.” 

“The way that you literally always find a way to be around her just to bother her, and the way you literally know everything about her… Like you literally know everything.”

“Everything she hates.” 

“Oh my god, why are you trying to deny this?”

“I’m not denying it… but that doesn’t have to do with anything.”

Harrison frowned. “Doesn’t it, though? You are in love with her, I know it, it’s okay to admit it.” 

“Well okay now that you put it that way,” Tom coughed. “Yes I am in love with her,” he continued. “But what do you want me to admit? That she takes my breath away every time I see her but I won’t... and yes she’s probably on my mind 24/7,” Tom sighed as he played with the beer cap. “and she’s literally driving me crazy and I want to kiss her all day long and fuck, she’s so pretty, and god, the way she speaks? And doesn’t care at all, and the way she turns everything pretty?” Tom smiled to himself. “God and she smells amazing doesn’t she? Like... I don’t know shit about flowers but I know she smells like them…” Tom bit his lip. “but ... that doesn’t matter because she won’t know this and if she knew this I’d blame you.” 

Harrison just blinked. “What the fuck?”

Tom frowned. “What?”

Haz laughed. “You are literally so in love with her.” 

“I’m not.” 

Harrison watched him with disbelief and not understanding one bit of Tom's head. 

“Okay yes I am, but it’s hard okay?” Tom gulped.”This is literally the first time I ever tell anybody. Dunno.” 

Harrison laughed. “Mate... but now it’s so clear,” Haz had to hold his head, “like... her last birthday?”

“What about it?”

“First, that’s why you were killing Timothee with your glance. “

“I hate Tim,” Tom barked. “He is annoying and boring. Because he’s so dreamy, and fuck, he gave her a ride didn’t he? He’s trying to take her back.” 

“And he will if you don’t do anything,” Haz pushed. 

Tom scoffed. “I can’t.”

“You need to pull another stunt as you did on her birthday?” 

“What stunt?” 

“Gosh, it makes so much sense now,” Haz asserted. “The gift you gave her?” 

Tom smirked, pleased of himself, he had known that he had been the one with the best gift. Not even Timothee with the new Polaroid. And the gift had had y/n texting him for a complete week believing there was something wrong with it, and that I’m any time it would turn out to be a prank. It wasn’t. 

“Please,” Tom scoffed arrogantly. “everyone knows she likes The Rolling Stones. She’s so typical.” 

“But giving her an original vinyl? Signed?” Haz pushed. 

Tom gulped. “I—well, what about it? I’m in love with her, now you know it.”

“Nothing, I’m just calling myself out for being so fucking blind—“Harrison dipped his drink. “How long has this been going on?”

Tom leaned against the counter. “I... well, since forever,” Tom smiled to himself. “Not that... Look, when I’ve dated other girls,” Tom coughed. “I’ve loved them and only them but somehow y/n always finds her way into my heart and that’s annoying like... god”

“I’m just surprised I didn’t notice,” Harrison said. 

“I’ve been pretty good at hiding it, even when we’ve kissed I’ve made everyone believe I didn’t like her,” he admitted.

“Even her huh?” Harrison questioned.

Tom sighed. “I couldn’t. Because Harry loved her and if she knew I liked her back when she liked me—Then I would’ve been an asshole to my brother because he’s been the one who was nice to her all this time. And he—He deserves someone like her, and she deserves someone like him.”

“But Harry is engaged now.” 

“That’s—I don’t know, I think he’s still in love with y/n,” Tom said. “And I feel like this is a perfect way for Harry  to escape rather than actually facing it.” 

Haz shook his head. “I think he really loves Emma.” 

“I do too, but marriage?” Tom frowned. “Dunno, maybe you’re right.”

Harrison nodded. “God, how was I so stupid? I can’t believe I never saw it.” 

“Well, stop it now, okay? I still dislike her and I will keep on disliking her, and I will act like I hate her.” 

Harrison frowned. “That’s very stupid.” 

“Is it? Look,” Tom took out his phone. “I’ll text her that I hate her and she’ll answer back just that she hates me too.” 

Haz frowned. “I don’t get it,” He frowned. “If you now know this, why don’t you just…?”

“It’s complicated.” 

Harrison frowned. “Dude she liked you too,” he reminded him. “Why would you do everything you’ve done if you—“

“I may have wanted her to know I liked her,” Tom admitted. “But then I remembered I shouldn’t and—I don’t think she’s ever believed I like her, even when... the fucking yellow flowers.” 

“I’ve never understood why it means so much between you both and why you always get tense when they mention it.” 

“It’s been a constant prop in our... relationship it’s... nothing,” Tom rubbed his face as his phone vibrated. “She just texted me back.” 

Haz watched him. “And?”

Tom coughed, blushing. “She just said… your place in 30?”

Harrison burst out laughing “She wants the d, great, but no, tell her not to come over.” 

Tom frowned. “Why not?” 

“A, I’m here.” 

“You can pretend you’re not.” 

Harrison frowned. “That’s gross, I… and okay, but a, I’m here and b) Tom, if you’re in love with her having this whole thing, will only make things worse. You should pursue a relationship instead.” 

“Who says I want a relationship? I’m alright like this.” 

Harrison rolled his eyes. “You’ll only end up hurting yourself.”

“I can’t want it,” Tom explained. “Besides, I think I’ve hurt her enough for her to not to want one.” 

“What do you know?” 

“I know her enough, alright? And she probably wants to go back to Timothee Chaglabob.”

“Chalamet-“

“I swear Harrison,” Tom rolled his eyes. “But—I mean if this whole benefits thing works out then I’m good, would I want a relationship where I can kiss her all day and be all adorable and take her everywhere and just make her laugh all day? No. I don’t want any of it, she’s annoying.”

Harrison only watched him, “are you fucking listening to yourself?” 

“Yes, I don’t—I am in love with her but I don’t like her.” 

Haz couldn’t believe what he was hearing, Tom was probably the most stupid man he’d ever met. 

“I genuinely can’t act nice around her,” Tom admitted. “I’m—I can’t.” 

“What if you try?” Haz frowned. “Take her somewhere nice, be romantic, see how she responds and then you’ll see how it goes.” 

“No.”

“You know what? I don’t even know why I’m arguing with you, you’re so stupid,” Haz said before heading to his bedroom. “Please don’t be too loud.” 

Tom only stared at his phone, and texted back: “come here now.”

And Tom knew it took her about 20 minutes to come, so he showered, and he got all dressed up, and then changed into something less nice, a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He even put on some lotion. He had combed his hair back then ruffled it a bit so it didn’t look bad. But he stared at the house? Did he have to light up some candles? Or was that too romantic and out of place for their new title. He lit some up anyway. Should he play music? He bit his lip but searched for some music. 

But this was stupid right? It didn’t have to be this way. It wasn’t romantic. This was not nice. 

But before he could even make a decision to turn everything off, y/n had knocked on the door. 

And he felt like this was wrong but he couldn’t act like it. And honestly, he’d be an idiot if he denied having any sex. 

But y/n was having her own thoughts. She felt guilty. But she technically had Tim’s approval. Didn’t she? But it was wrong and she didn’t know why. 

But she had to admit that Tom had left her hot and bothered after kissing her neck in the bathroom. Besides, she could try that thing with Tom. She had to change this whole sexual relationship into an actual relationship. Did she? Or maybe she could only have fun. 

Of course, that the moment she’d sent that text everything had probably gone to shit. When driving over to his place she realized how this sounded only like a random booty call when it actually wasn’t. Maybe it was. This was y/n wanting to talk with someone without being judged and someone who probably was on the same page as her. 

Because this had her on the edge and as she had typed in some words to her script she actually took into account that she didn’t want to do this. 

She needed to change the script. She could lie. She could write about it without living it. But she wrote about it: enemies with benefits. It had a ring to it, it sounded catchy. Hating each other in the day, but pretending to love at night. It wasn’t a sin. Because she technically didn’t have to try anything, maybe she could tell her boss that she really didn’t want to pull such a shitty thing. But writing about sleeping with the enemy… it was sexy. 

This was so selfish of her. But Tim had reason on what he’d say, maybe she did want to give one last chance to this. She wouldn’t compel, however.  How could she? 

She was scared but the moment Tim had told her to give it a go, a thought had swirled in her mind. Could she give it a go? 

But she hated him. There was some kind of awakening inside her. But she had to remember what he’d put her through. And how even with this he could turn around and run the other way, far from her. And she won’t be able to hide again.

But sleeping with him couldn’t hurt as long as she wasn’t the one to catch feelings.

When the door was opened she saw Tom, with his hair wet, and smelling so good, his lotion suffocating her and begging her lips to go straight to his neck. The drops on his forehead only there to fill her imagination. 

He gave her a grin, but then stared at her sweatpants. 

He gave her a second glance and chuckled. “So how is this—“

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to talk to and I really don’t want to tell Harry because well it involves him and I had to talk to someone but I don’t know why I thought of you.” 

Tom blinked. “You…what?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.” 

Tom chuckled. “Why?”

“I dunno. You know what? Forget it, it’s silly… so,” she squeezed her eyes closed. “Pants off, Holland,” she ordered as she then pushed him against the wall, slamming the door closed and then smashed her lips against his, forcing Tom to close his eyes and place his hands on her waist, his fingers pressing down on her back. She could taste a fainted beer on his lips, and she could smell his shampoo, she could tell he had just showered. 

He laughed as he pulled away. “That’s—That’s?”

“I’m sorry I’ve never had a booty call before.” 

“I can tell.” 

She rolled her eyes and playfully nudged him, letting him go. 

“But you wanted to talk?” He chuckled mockingly. “I didn’t know kids these days were calling it that way.” 

“Forget it.” She looked around and chuckled to herself. “Candles? And music?” 

Tom chuckled. “I—well.” 

“You’re a hopeless romantic aren't you?” 

“Yeah I was about to turn them off, though,” he admitted. “I kind of forgot I was going to sleep with my worst enemy.” 

He blew out the candles and turned off the music. 

She chuckled. “This is stupid.” 

“Why? Want me to turn them back on?”

“I don’t know, it just—is,” she said. “Besides, I think this is the first time I haven’t had any alcohol on me before doing this.”

“Huh, we’ve been pretty drunk, right?” He bit his lip.“What did you want to talk about?” He wondered as he approached her.

“Nothing.” 

“What if we—talk about it while we go for some alcohol?” 

“You want to talk?”

“That can be another benefit.” He took her hand back. 

She frowned as she watched him, unsure as to why he was acting this particular way. He cupped her cheek, but then frowned.“Weren’t you with Tim?”

She blinked. “What?”

“I saw you leave with him,” he commented. 

“I… well, I was but…”

He smirked. “Hm, he can’t satisfy you—and that's why you come to me.” 

“What the fuck Tom?” She pinched him on his arm, earning a laugh from him. 

“Let’s go for a drive, we need alcohol,” he yelled as he took out his keys. 

“You know what? No, fuck off,” she stormed off to her car as Tom followed after her. 

“Y/N, no, come on, come on,” he stopped her, taking her from her waist, hugging her from behind placing kisses on her neck. Tom had learned quickly. A kiss on her neck would have her down on her knees. Of course, like everything Tom learned about her, he’d be using it as a weapon. 

“Why are you so obsessed with Tim?” She frowned, as he continued to pepper her neck with sloppy wet kisses, making her stomach fill up with butterflies. “Tom.” But he didn’t stop, his hands were now travelling down her stomach, as he sucked on slightly on her neck and then his lips delicately landed on her collarbone. “Thomas,” she closed her eyes. 

He snickered against her neck. “You sure you want to leave?” 

She closed her eyes as she felt his hot breath against that sweet spot on her neck. She nudged his ribs and then pushed him back.

“Y/N,” he smirked with lust as he pulled her back to him. “Hm, should we go back inside?” He asked as his lips landed on hers, biting on her bottom lip. 

She cupped his ass and then deepened the kiss, now he was the one to soothe into her touch, as she slid her tongue in.

She pulled away as he was left dumbfounded, earning a smirk from y/n. “No. Let’s go for that drive.” 

He blinked. “Y/N.” 

“Cmon let’s go” 

“Y/N.” 

“Haz is in there, isn’t he?” She questioned. 

“He’s asleep.” 

She looked away. 

“I have beer,” he explained. “We can chug down 8 of them at once and then you’ll forget it’s me who you’re screwing and pretend it’s someone else.” 

She scoffed. “Like who?” 

“I dunno, Chris Evans.” 

She laughed. “I’m not pretending I’m screwing someone else, I just have to… Get to the idea.” 

He placed his hands on her waist. “So?” 

“No, I’m angry at you,” she pushed him away and then headed to her car.

He let out a cackle, and followed after her, he pecked her cheek before pushing her slightly. “Isn’t that the point, though?” 

“No,” she got into her car. 

He laughed not letting her close the door. “I love your car is old, just adds in more to the aesthetic.” 

“Can you let me close the door?” She begged. 

“No,” he chuckled as he sat on her lap. 

“Thomas.” 

He chuckled. “Hm,” his cold lips landed on her chin. “Y/N.” 

*

She closed her eyes, and Tom slowly closed the door. Y/N opened her eyes with surprise as Tom was now letting his hands inside her t-shirt. 

He started to nibble on her ear as she closed her eyes back, her hands roaming through his hair, he licked near the earlobe. Y/n blushed as she then walked her fingers through his chest lining every muscle on his body. 

Her fingers shrivelled at the end of his t-shirt as she slowly pulled it off. He smirked as he finally kissed her lips, slowly and coordinated at first but the kiss getting sloppier as her fingers pressed against his bare skin. He tried shifting her as his hands cupped her breasts now, kneading them as he pleased. 

She let out a soft moan, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue now sliding in. Tom took her waist in his hands as he then tried to pick her up. 

“What are you doing?” She asked between kisses as he tried moving her. 

“Sh,” was the only response he gave her. But he reached for something under the seat desperately . He finally reached for something as he pushed the car seat back, giving them slightly more space to move. 

He kissed her again, smiling slightly against her lips. 

He managed to pull off her shirt, revealing the red lacy bra she had so kindly and carefully chosen. 

He took a second to stare at it, catching his breath as he stared at the red bow in the middle of her breasts. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, y/n,” he gasped as he looked at her face now, with her hair puffed up, and only her eyes covered with slight mascara and a faint pink from the makeup she’d worn at the party. A trace of red lipstick was seen there too. 

She grinned at him as she pulled him back down to meet her lips with him, she giggled against the kiss. 

“I hate you but I can’t believe how beautiful you are,” he caressed her cheeks with his lips. He dug into his pocket and took out his wallet, searching for the condom.

She didn’t say anything as she slightly bucked her hips against his, her core pooled from every single kiss he had placed on her body, she grinned herself against him to get a sort of friction. Tom managed to move just slightly to path down his way to her chest, leaving a trail of his kisses as it shined with the streetlight. 

Her hands went down to his sweatpants that were hiding nothing as his hard length was begging to come out. Her slick hand found its way inside his sweatpants as she palmed above his boxers. He only curved up his hips as she started to graze the tip of his cockhead, as it twitched with the slightest touch. 

He curved again but now hitting the claxon, both of them scared by the loud noise, they laughed at each other. 

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath as she tried to hide her giggles. “We have to be careful.” 

“No shit,” he laughed as his hands migrated to her thighs, opening her as he managed to pull down her own sweats, revealing the red lacy panties matching with her bra. “All dolled up for me?” He asked cockily as his fingers brushed the little bow on the fabric. 

She bit her bottom lip as he found his way down to nuzzle her breasts. She was feeling just slightly guilty that Tim had kissed her just hours before. The little space they had could only give them such movements, but her hand didn’t leave his cock as she traced it up and down, his length swelling up . He  moaned just slightly and cursed under his breath as he pushed down his underwear, he couldn’t help it anymore. 

“I need you,” she whispered. “Tom, I need you,” she moaned. He wrapped the condom around him. 

He nodded fervently as he finally without any warning, pulled down her red panties and pushed into her. He had to take a deep breath as he felt her drenched pussy covering him up. She moaned, enjoying the full blister as he had filled her up. 

“So tight,” he moaned as he shifted above her, slowly bucking his hips up and down, her hands landed on his ass, as if trying to push her further into her. 

“Oh god,” she gasped, as she danced her own hips around him, with the reduced space they had to barely move but the friction against the seat. 

Tom was deep buried in and he slowly started to hip in and out quickly, finding a pace that had y/n moaning his name, but he covered her mouth, and she pushed him further in, trying to avoid another claxon accident as before. 

And the windows were fogging up from the heat created between them. Y/N needed to get her grip as Tom kept pushing into her, filling her up until he could feel himself in her stomach roughly. His lips trying to catch hers in between gasps and moans. 

 “Tom,” was all she could say as her fingers painted down in the blurred window. Her back now moving faster with the help of her sweat. 

She was rolling her eyes back with delight as Tom was hitting her right in the spot, she reached down to circle her clit but Tom replaced her hand with his, as he circled it slowly, teasing her at first. But then rubbed it fast enough for her to wash out her orgasm. 

But her own hands scratched his back as she was trying to catch her own breath,  as she tried to get a grip of the reality that was going in between. The smell of sweat combined with his lotion and her own perfume. The taste of beer combined with her own taste of cherries. 

She couldn’t hear anything, only his gasps and her name coming from under his breath. She moaned just slightly as he thrust in and out, a fast rhythm, that was getting sloppier with each thrust. 

He was shaking and he finally curved in, he groaned but then finally shivered as he came right into her, her clenching pussy just tightening it. 

He moaned her name, throwing his head back as he then plopped himself above her, catching her breath. He finally pulled out but remained kissing her neck.

*

He kissed her once again, as she caught her breath, little gasps as her fingers swirled around his hair. She stared into his caramel eyes and then cupped his face, pecking his lips just slightly, his hair now combined with droplets of his sweat and the water from his earlier shower. His cheeks red as he continued kissing her. 

“Shall we go for that ride now?” He asked, chuckling slightly. 

“I don’t know if I can drive,” she admitted as she moved her legs, panting softly. 

He smirked cockily. “Hm, I’ll be driving your car then.” 

She rolled her eyes as he tried to sit up, once against hitting the claxon letting out a loud noise.

 They laughed at each other. 

“Well if Haz wasn’t up, then he sure is by now,” he chuckled. 

He pulled up his underwear and sweatpants.

“Mmh, drive shirtless,” she pleaded. 

He smirked. “Alright.” 

The ride was quiet at the beginning. Y/n had put in Tom’s t-shirt. Tom’s hand would land on her thigh every now and then but y/n would flick it off. However, her own hand hadn’t left his leg. He would cough and slightly move trying to remain calm. Y/N only smirked. 

“You  hungry?” He asked, as his hand landed on Hers, squeezing it slightly. 

“Yeah, a bit.” 

“I’m craving breakfast,” he commented as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing it lightly. 

“At 1am?” She laughed pulling her hand back. 

“Why not?” 

“Isn’t like a worldwide known rule not to have breakfast with your booty call?” She pointed out. 

He laughed. “I love how you keep calling me a booty call.” 

“Well aren’t you?” She giggled. 

He grinned. “Well, but it’s not the morning so it wouldn’t be cheating the rules, it’s against the rules to have breakfast the next morning.” 

“Huh.”

He chuckled. “And I know this place that’s open 24/7.” 

“But isn’t it against our other rules? We are enemies, Holland.” 

“I’ll make you choke on a waffle, don’t worry,” he pushed. “And besides we can get it to go and have it somewhere else, therefore… Not breaking any rules.” 

She sighed. “Fine. Let’s go have breakfast.” 

-

Y/N had to give him his shirt back as they went to the place. But as soon as they were back in the car, y/n was hesitating. She would be driving now.

“It’s late, Tom I should probably go back home,” she reminded him. “I’ll drive you home and—“

“Or we could go to the treehouse,” he commented. 

“The treehouse? At 3 in the morning?” She laughed. “I’m not sneaking into your parents’ house.” 

“Why not?” He laughed. “It’s not sneaking in, really, I’ve got the keys, and I’m allowed to go there.”

She chuckled. “You really want to take me to your parents’ house to have breakfast?” 

Tom scrunched his nose. “Well if you put it that way.” 

“That would get you in trouble wouldn’t it?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Let’s go then,” she smirked as she took a sip of her milkshake. 

And they were quiet for the ride, as Tom would only sing along to the songs playing on the radio. Y/n’s old car couldn’t play anything but cassettes, which at the moment Tom didn’t really want to listen to. He knew most cassettes had been a gift by Timmy. 

He had been honest, he loved her car. An old, silver vintage car.  It belonged to her grandparents and she had been keen on getting it back on.

Tom only watched her as she was licking the tip of her lips and focused on the road. Or so did Tom think. 

Because what he didn’t know was that y/n was debating with herself over the current events. The fact that Harry was engaged. The fact that Timmy had kissed her and the fact that she had ended up having car sex with Tom anyway. 

But she stayed quiet, and even quieter as they sneaked into the Holland’s household, y/n trying not to chuckle as they made their way to the garden. 

They managed to climb to the top, y/n being helped by Tom as they tried to get their breakfast intact as they pushed it up. 

Eventually, they were at their old treehouse, where there were too many memories for them to even remember. 

Their breakfast hadn’t really survived as the now soggy pancakes and waffles were crumbled up. They didn’t care anyway.

Tom had been brushing her hand for a while now as they peacefully and quietly ate. They were on the floor of the treehouse sitting right in front of each other. The food placed in front of them as they both ate from each other’s plate. 

“Are we gonna talk about it, though?” She asked as she pulled back her hand just as Tom had brushed it again. This was too nice for it to be real. She was only expecting Tom to pull any kind of stupid stunt he liked to pull.

Tom cleared his throat, glancing slightly at her. “What?”

“Your brother? going insane?” 

Tom laughed, “Ah you think it too?” 

“It is insane, he asked me about it like two weeks ago and—“

“You said no, right?” He frowned. 

“Yes I said no, I told him that he should wait—“

“Because he should!” Tom agreed. 

She looked down at the waffle with strawberries. “This is crazy.” 

Tom licked remaining syrup off his fingers. “Haz didn’t agree with me.”

“And Tim didn’t agree with me.” 

“Ugh,” Tom groaned.  “Timothee Chalkboard.” 

She only smiled, rolling her eyes. “Why do you hate him?”

“He’s dumb—“

“He’s not.”

“ and I can’t believe you are so smitten with him.”

“We’ve had this conversation before, Tom,” she rolled her eyes. 

He chuckled as he stared down at the food. “God but what do you see in him?” 

Y/n cleared her throat. “I am not dating him anymore, I’m not—”

He smirked. “Oh, so you are not into him.” 

“That’s not what I said,” she rolled her eyes. 

Tom scooted closer, as he poked her with a soggy bite of waffle. “Are you into someone else?” 

She groaned cleaning her cheek. “Hm no, not really,” she looked away. “But going back to your brother it’s crazy right?” 

“Super crazy like Harry you’re so-” 

“Young! Yes, and they’re not—”

“Ready!” Tom finished growling. “I mean they do love each other.” 

Y/n nodded. “But it feels off right?” 

Tom nodded in agreement as he smiled at her.  “Gosh, who are we? Agreeing on something?”

Y/n laughed. “Right?”

“We sleep together and we agree on things?” Tom squeezed his eyes. 

“Ha, maybe everyone was right,” she commented. 

“Huh, maybe they were,” Tom grinned. 

Because truly everyone was right. Even if they were stupid enough to admit it. 

“This place brings back so many memories,” Tom admitted as he looked around, it looked dusty and old and really forgotten. Some toys were there, boxes full of crayons. Stories waiting to be told. 

“Yeah, like the time you pushed me off and I broke my ankle,” y/n recalled. 

Tom laughed. “I’m sorry, I was an asshole.” 

“Was?” She questioned. “I’m probably being poisoned right now.” 

“Mmh,” he reached for her pancake. “I didn’t, see?” 

“You haven’t had any of my milkshake, could be here,” she pointed out as she took a sip. 

He grinned. “You figured my evil plan, killing you with milkshake.” 

She chuckled. “But so many memories, yes,” she looked around. “I think this is the place where we filmed amazing movies here, you remember?”

“I do,” he laughed. “But please we have more memories rather than only when children.” 

“I remember that one time when you were...17 I think and you got drunk and jumped off and landed on me,” she recalled again. 

“Shit, that was your... “ 

“Elbow, yep,” she laughed. “You really have a thing with breaking my bones, huh?” 

He smirked. “Yeah, almost broke your legs tonight.” 

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes. 

“No, but… Really, I’m sorry I was a real asshole to you all these years,” he apologized. 

“Oh, so this is what I needed? We had to have sex for you to finally realize what big of an asshole you were?” 

He gulped. “No, I knew it.” 

“That makes it worse,” she groaned as she rolled her eyes. 

“I know.” 

“But,” she chuckled. “All good now, you bought me a pancake so I can’t be mad at you,” she grinned as she took a bite. “That is until you come up with another type of bullshit.” 

“So pancakes now, huh? Not yellow flowers got it,” he smiled sadly. 

“Yes, pancakes,” she cleared her throat, as she then reached for her backpack, pulling out a Polaroid camera. “Wait, smile.” 

Tom watched her but then smiled at her, posing as he took a bite. And y/n snpped the picutre, as Tom leaned over to see it, and then y/n waited for the picture to dry out, she could feel him breathing against her neck, he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and she knew it when it finally revealed itself, so simple, a picutre of Tom biting on a waffle in the middle of the night. But she knew it, she’d give it a go.

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[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

AIGHT Y’ALL I wasn’t tagged but I’m doing this anyways because f u c k  i t

It's the year 2021 and you're obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?

Deadasss weird as fuck, my dude. Like...out of all the things I could’ve predicted happening in our lord’s year 2021, it definitely was NOT getting hyperfixated on a hammy gay ship with a punk and a nerd from a goddamn karate soap opera. And yet...here we are??? I will never understand hyperfixations, my guy. But I’ve met a lot of really cool people in this fandom, so I can’t really complain.

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?

I have never seen a single Karate Kid movie in my entire life. When I was a kid, it looked kinda dumb so I never got into it XD But then I saw my roommate watching Cobra Kai on Youtube Red one day (he has every streaming service known to man) and I was hooked. And...here I am!

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character:  

Literally EVERYONE except for Kreese, Yasmine, Kyler, and Tory, sorry stans

Okay but if we gotta pick, Johnny Lawrence is my Problematic Fave. Also I love my boy Daniel, he’s trying his best!!! And Amanda LaRusso, we stan a queen!!!

Among the kids, definitely Miguel, with Demetri as a close second. I also love Sam, Aisha, Moon, and Hawk (pre- and post-Bastardization Arc, anyways XD)!

Favorite ship:  

Take a look at my username and take a WILD FUCKING GUESS lmao Yes it’s Eli/Demetri because DUH, every interaction they have is so fucking gay and Eli fucking saved him!!! And came back to him!!! And betrayed the world’s most terrifying dojo with a WAR CRIMINAL SENSEI all for Demetri!!! And how Demetri was willing to forgive him for everything at the drop of a hat because he always had faith there was still good in his best friend??? That’s TRUE LOVE motherfuckers. Please let them kiss in Season 4. I will sell you all of my limbs. Sam/Miguel is a close second because they’re cute as shit and it’s just so lovely to see two people so unapologetically smitten with each other. They are in LOVE, and I will RIOT if they break up again!!! Keep Sam and Miguel together 2k21!!!

Underrated character:

SAMANTHA LARUSSO!!! The amount of hate my girl gets for acting like a normal teenager and fucking up occasionally JUST like the rest of the cast makes me want to start punching things. She cares SO MUCH about her friends!!! And she loves the shit out of Miguel!!! She hasn’t always been the best friend but you know what??? Neither has Hawk, and we still forgave his ass!!! Also LET HER BE FEMININE but also kick utter ass, my god!!! Femininity should not be synonymous with being weak, y’all! ALSO DEMETRI, like yes, he likes to complain and occasionally run his mouth, but guess what else he likes to do??? Never give up on the love of his life his best friend Eli Moskowitz and refuse to lose faith in him no matter how much of a little shit he’s become, and I for one think that’s very badass of him. Also the way he takes care of Eli pre-Cobra Kai in his own snarky bastard way makes me absolutely Weak and needs more appreciation. Like the dude has charisma and COULD have probably made other friends and left Eli behind if he wanted, but did he??? No, he wants the weepy loser with the lip scar in the polo shirts and dorky sweaters and will protect him as much as his wimpy ass is able!!!

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):  

Among the adults, Daniel/Amanda!!! Like maybe I just don’t watch that much tv, but it seems kinda rare to me to see a happily married hetero couple, and it’s just nice to see a married couple who genuinely love each other and where there’s not like...lingering resentment or some shit. I feel like this ship gets overshadowed by Lawrusso a lot (which like--okay, fair!!! Daniel and Johnny do have a ridiculous amount of chemistry, and the gay undertones are undeniable, so I get it), and it makes me kinda sad. I do love Lawrusso, but I don’t like when Amanda has to get her heart broke for it to happen, you feel? Among the kids, honestly YasMoon. Like I really love the idea of Yasmine trying to better herself because of Moon’s influence on her and because Moon like...inspires her to be a better person, I guess? With their pretty strong friendship, it just makes more sense to me for Yasmine to get a redemption arc through Moon than through Demetri. ALSO girls DO often pull the whole “mean girl” shtick to cover up being closeted lesbians, and Moon IS canonically bi, so it could work!!! I just think this one could be a really interesting Friends to Lovers take, and could make a really nice coming-out arc for Yas. And MoonPiper too, honestly!!! Like they only got 5 seconds of screentime so I understand WHY it’s underrated, but I still love what we DID get and loved that there was a canon gay ship (even if only for 1 scene lmao). I’m really excited to potentially see more of them in Season 4!!! Please, I’m begging!!!

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?

Sweep the Leg because it will always be deeply hilarious to me how Demetri took note of the first move Eli ever used on him and spent presumably weeks perfecting it OUT OF SPITE just to get him back with it at the soccer game MONTHS later. Just goes to show how OBSESSED Demetri is with Eli and their little karate rivalry which is just NOT straight, I’m sorry

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?

There’s something so funny about this pretentious little fuck walking around in fancy suits once he becomes a #SuccessfulBusinessman, and still occasionally trying to do karate in a full-ass suit (take THAT, Tom Cole’s boba!!!) I’m also a big fan of how he looks in his gi with his little headband. Still killing that look as a 40-50-something!!!

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver:

Tbh I have still never seen a single Karate Kid movie (they took them off of Netflix, RIP), so...I don’t really care if they bring anyone else back??? I’m invested in the characters we already have in the show, I don’t need some rando from the movies to make a cameo to have a good time XD The only character I really wanted them to bring back was Ali, and they already did, so like...I’m good??? That’s all I really needed, I can die in peace now XD

Scene that lives in your head rent-free:

Basically any fluffy Elimetri scene, but 5 in particular: ~Miguel first meeting Eli and Demetri at the lunch table, and Eli looking at Demetri like he hung every goddamn star in the sky ~Demetri going off at a terrifying, “unhinged” karate sensei on the first day of Cobra Kai because he made fun of Eli’s lip and Demetri is not about that shit ~ELI STEALING DEMETRI’S NACHO AND SMIRKING AT HIM, LIKE EXCUSE ME SIR PLEASE BE A LITTLE LESS HOMOSEXUAL IN FRONT OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND ~Eli yanking Demetri onstage during Valley Fest to hold a board, and Demetri being visibly like...extremely turned on when Eli breaks said board ~ELI SAVING DEMETRI DURING THE CHRISTMAS FIGHT, ELI APOLOGIZING, DEMETRI AND ELI KICKING COBRA ASS TOGETHER AKSBDCUWYVCBU

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?

I hope not! He’s kind of a funny meme character to pop up now and again but I don’t think he deserves a serious plotline when there are so many more interesting characters to follow.

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?

Miyagi-Do because Cobra Kai would eat me alive. Also I’d probably straight up get stuck and die in that cement mixer, if I even made it that far XD Besides, being salty that your friend who you have a crush on likes martial arts better than you and starting martial arts to impress them but also being too lazy to join anything TOO intense is a Big Mood and I am certainly not speaking from personal experience here, no sirree

What’s your training montage song?

"Shut Up and Drive” by Rihanna for a weight-training and bicep-flexing montage, “Whatever It Takes” by Imagine Dragons for a more intense punching-and-kicking-shit montage. I don’t know why this is, I just feel it in my heart.

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?

*Briefly panics because I don’t actually watch that much TV and most of the stuff I do watch is fantasy/sci fi shit that absolutely would not work for a CK crossover*

Hmmmm okay but ACTUALLY

You know what would be fucking funny as hell would be an It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia crossover. Allow me to elaborate: ~The Gang goes to LA on vacation during the height of the Karate Dojo Wars. They literally can get barely anything done without all these goddamn karate-fighting teenagers getting in the way. ~They are all very annoyed by this. Even the most obscure of tourist attractions is eventually intercepted by karate fights. ~Mac tries to join Cobra Kai because he sees all this karate fighting on, and wants to unquestionably prove both his badassery and masculinity. Both Johnny and Kreese are like “Wtf are you doing here? Aren’t you like 30?” ~Mac gets a planet-sized crush on Johnny after all of 5 minutes and endlessly gushes to the gang about him. The gang mercilessly roast him about this and about how much of a pathetic loser with his life together in no way whatsoever Johnny sounds like. They proceed to have exactly 0 self awareness about this. ~The Waitress is in town visiting family or something, and Charlie is stalking her, as per usual. However, every time he’s about to go up and talk to her, a pack of battling Miyagi-Dos and Cobra Kais throwing punches and kicks everywhere blocks his path. One times, Mac is among one of these packs and Charlie is like “???? He didn’t get kicked out of that teen karate dojo yet???” ~Seeing how much the Kids These Days seem to like fighting, Charlie drops by a local high school to try and sell Fight Milk to the kids doing karate. Only Kyler and Brucks buy into it, and subsequently get the entire West Valley High wrestling team sick. Charlie is inevitably arrested, as Counselor Blatt thinks he’s selling the kids drugs. ~Dennis makes a plan to have sex with every hot chick he can in Los Angeles. He meets Ali on a dating app post-divorce, and inevitably tries to bang her. It doesn’t work. ~Frank crashes the rental car, and inevitably the gang ends up at one of Daniel’s dealerships. Dee quickly takes a liking to Daniel and is like “Watch, assholes--Imma homewreck this guy’s marriage.” She starts frequenting the dealerships to attempt to flirt with Daniel, until one day she walks in on him having sex with Johnny in a back room and she’s like “Is that the guy from Mac’s goddamn dojo?!?!” ~Dennis, of course, tries to sleep with Amanda. Amanda is not having it, and rebukes him in the most snarky, Amanda-esque way possible. Dennis is just like “Oh not AGAIN--the women in this goddamn diva city have too high of standards!” ~Later on, the gang is at the beach and Dennis spots the blonde lady he went out on an ill-fate date with, and decides to give it another shot--that is, until he sees her go up and kiss another woman and he’s like “IS THAT THE LADY FROM THE CAR DEALERSHIP??? STUPID-KARATE-KICK-COMMERCIAL’S WIFE?!? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.” ~Dee complains to Dennis about her lack of luck getting laid, and Dennis is just like “Oh come ON, is everyone in Los Angeles gay???” Smash cut to Hawk and Demetri having sex, Moon and Piper making out, Bert and Nate holding hands, Chris and Mitch doing oral, and Amanda, Ali, and Carmen having a threesome. ~Frank tries to scam Kreese into buying cheaply-made karate equipment for his dojo. The gang ends up having to leave LA because Kreese is quite literally plotting all of their murders.

For tagging, uuuuhhhhhh @jackonthelongwalk @soe-leo @max-eagle-fang @cc-tinslebee @backawayfromthegay @asphodel-storm do the thing, if y’all haven’t yet!

[killian-whump]

Game Night! [Liveblog #2]

And here comes the next part of Josh’s Game Night video, featuring our favorite guy and some other folks :)

Again - Don’t send me bitchy asks for doing this, you’ll be barking up the wrong tree. I’d literally be posting the video itself right now if I could, so...

ANYWAY! Moving right along!

After the conclusion of the Would You Rather? segment, we’re now moving on to Jackbox games. Josh asks if they’re familiar. Kat is, but Colin and Sam both shake their heads no. I, too, am unfamiliar with this. Guess I should pay attention to the explanation.

Oh wow. There’s a fifth person now on the Zoom call, Josh’s producer Sammy, and now everyone’s boxes are smaller. She’s going to tell us how the games work, while I wonder what Josh needs a producer for. She’s mostly giving the guests the technical information here. The first game is Drawful, which is basically pictionary or whatever, they get a silly prompt and have to draw it.

I can tell already that Colin’s getting excited to play games, lol. Look at him up there in the corner grinning like a mischievous imp:

Sorry for the graininess of this, but we need to zoom in:

COLIN O’DONOTROLL, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN 😂

Okay, so the stars are all going to the Jackbox website, and now they’re going to draw pictures of themselves for their icons. Sam has just entered Jackbox with the username “joshsucks” 😂 He’s really happy with himself:

Josh says he’s never seen him happier 😂 “That’s a child’s joy.”

Kat’s and Colin’s icons come up. “She’s got a pen!” Colin tattles.

Sam’s icon comes up. I have no idea what it is. Josh has no idea what it is either, and says “Is that like... Thor? What am I looking at?” Sam doesn’t explain.

Here’s their icons:

Note the undeniable presence of the Ayebrow on Colin’s 😂

Okay.. first round. They’re all drawin- Wow. Josh is already DONE drawing. Even Sammy is frightened by how quickly he finished. Sammy announces that joshsucks is ready. “Alright, we don’t need to actually say his name out loud each time,” Josh says. I can feel the determination to win radiating off of Colin as he draws.

Pictured Above: Very Serious Drawing Face (also: sweet floof)

“Do we start drinking yet?” Sam asks. Colin is still drawing. Josh gives the green light on drinking, and Sam goes for it. Kat’s having whiskey. Colin’s done drawing now, and sips his tea. “Strong tea,” Sam says.

The first drawing comes up:

I have no idea what that is, but obviously Josh drew it, and I can’t even formulate a cohesive guess because Colin is now making this face:

and I’m too busy laughing, because that is a man who takes his silly drawing guessing VERY seriously, because guessing right = WINNING 😂 Josh is telling us that whoever drew that is a genius. “Oh Jesus,” Sammy says. The guesses are coming in...

Sammy: Joshsucks is in. Josh: OKAY. Sam: Every time :)

The guesses are up: “ye olde jailhouse” “oramge bus” (sic, and lol) “prison eyes” and “alcatraz”. One of these is the right answer. The others are the players’ guesses. Everybody has to vote for what they think the real prompt was. “It’s hard not to vote for an oram-jay bus,” Josh says. “It’s dutch,” Sam says. “It’s dutch, alright?”

The results are coming up... The real prompt was Alcatraz! “That’s not Alcatraz,” Sam says. “That is terrible,” Colin says. “It’s rubbish,” says Sam. Josh wonders what else he could’ve drawn. “Draw... an island,” Sam says. “Oh yeah,” Josh says. “It’s on an island...”

Colin’s guess of “prison eyes” got ALL the votes (besides his own), so he’s now winning! Check the grin on that goof’s face, you guys:

Next picture comes up:

I have NO idea who drew this, you guys. No idea at all. Sam asks what to do now. "If you drew it, just... think about your work,” Sammy advises.

The guesses come up: “the coolest guy alive” “king of games?” “king horowitz” and “creepy prince”. Those are some terrible guesses, lol. Only cos the king of games guess has a question mark on it. Otherwise, it would be a good guess. I just doubt the actual prompt would have a question mark...

Results are up! Right answer was “creepy prince” and only Josh voted for it. “What’s coming out of my mouth?” Josh asks. “It’s like hm-hm-hm,” Sam says. “Like that emoji... the creepy one.” Colin scored NO points that round, but everyone else did. He’s still in the lead, but they’re closing in...!

Will Colin keep his lead? Will Sam ever tell us what his icon’s supposed to be? Can anyone even hear Kat? STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT INSTALLMENT!!!

[onecanonlife]

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 8,205

Chapter Warnings: swearing, referenced past suic.ide

Chapter Summary: In which Wilbur tries very hard to hold a productive meeting, and does not quite succeed.

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Seventeen: ‘til the work is done

In retrospect, it’s not his best idea. He seems to be full of those, lately. Not-great ideas. This one is foolish simply for the fact that he is already tired, and gifting energy to Schlatt is a strain on his already depleted reserves. It takes about twenty minutes for him to get dizzy, and another two after that before spots start drifting across his vision, and at that point, he has to admit defeat, cutting himself off mid-sentence and breaking their connection. Schlatt swears as he loses his tangibility.

“Fuck, that felt weird,” he says. “What the fuck was that, why’d you stop?”

He wets his lips. It takes longer than it should for the words to formulate.

“I told you, we’re essentially sharing a lifeforce, Schlatt,” he says. “There’s only so much I can give you.”

Schlatt starts hovering in the air again, regarding him with a dark stare. And then, his expression clears.

“Oh, I see, so you’re being a dumbass,” he says, and Wilbur wants to protest, but he can’t get a word in edgewise. “Why the fuck are you giving me shit you can’t afford to lose, then? Jesus Christ, Wilbur, would you sit down?”

“There isn’t time for that,” he replies. “I’ve spent too long up here already. I need to go and meet with the others.”

Schlatt stares at him for a long moment. He’s not sure why. And when he speaks, his voice is—strange.

“I was right about you,” he says. “You really don’t change. Not when it comes to yourself. You’re just as stupid and self-destructive as you always have been. And now that coating of paint you try to put on over it? That’s flaking off. The only question is how many people you’re going to bring down with you this time.” He shakes his head, and his eyes narrow, expression hovering somewhere between a dark satisfaction and something else, something difficult to interpret. “You’re wearing yourself thin. I see it, everyone else can probably see it. But you can’t. Or you do, but you can’t accept it.”

(you put on a smile for the masses an upbeat tone for your friends but you’re a sinking ship and you know it, and you think it might be easier to let yourself drown even though you know you won’t, because you cannot allow yourself to fail because you are leader you are president and this is everything you fought for so it is a fault in you if you cannot handle it so you push through you make yourself and you scream into your pillow and cry yourself to sleep because at the end of the day your self-loathing clings to you like cobwebs and secondhand smoke)

He inhales.

“I don’t see how me needing to have a meeting with everyone else has led you to that conclusion,” he says, tone frosty, “but you can think what you want. And besides, you can hardly talk. We’ve had a conversation like this already.”

He turns on his heel, letting his coat flare out behind him; though, it’s still damp, so the motion isn’t nearly as satisfying as it usually is. But Schlatt follows along with him, and he grits his teeth, letting each of his footfalls resound with purpose, with confidence that he is struggling to truly find.

This was definitely a bad idea. Engaging with Schlatt always is. He should know this by now, should know that a welcome distraction can turn unwelcome at the drop of a hat.

“I never said that I was any better,” Schlatt says, “but that’s the difference between you and me, Wilbur. I know exactly what I am. You don’t know who the fuck you are, so you hide behind labels because that makes it easier for you to think about.”

(general president exile villain and round and round it goes and there is truth to his words because he scrambles for stability scrambles to fit the old roles but the fact of the matter is that he is something new and he is floundering because for all that he wants to be better he has never known how so it’s casting a coin in a wishing well and hoping)

“I know exactly who I am for the moment,” he says, “and that’s someone who’s going to get rid of the fucking Egg and pummel Dream’s face into the ground. For now, that’s more than good enough.”

He gets to the stairs again, and takes them two at a time on his way down.

“Fine, then, just don’t come crying to me later,” Schlatt says. “So, what’s the deal with Dream anyway? How the fuck did he get out of prison?”

That actually gives him pause for a second.

“I’m not actually sure,” he says. “A question for the warden.” One that he does intend to ask, if only to know how, exactly, Dream made what was supposed to be a secure prison seem like child’s play to escape. Was he waiting for the right moment all along? He’s not sure he likes the implications of that,

(especially since he deemed the right moment to be after Wilbur’s return, during the implementation of a plan that he helped to form, and it sickens him that he might have played any role in Dream’s decision making, that he might have led everyone into these circumstances, eyes wide open but blind all the same)

but it would make sense, considering everything that he’s learned, considering what he now knows of the rot that’s woven  itself into Dream’s very being. The corruption that lends him power.

“How much have you even been here for?” he continues, glancing at the ghost out of the corner of his eye. “Do you have any idea what’s been going on, or have you just been fucking around since the last time I saw you?” When you ran away from Tubbo, he does not say, and he wonders if Schlatt catches it anyway.

There is a beat, and then, “I—know that Dream’s out,” Schlatt says, the words reluctant, and he suppresses a bark of laughter.

“So, you know jack shit,” he says.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You know jack shit,” he repeats. “That’s fine. Stick around, I’m sure you’ll get caught up to speed.”

“Oh, great, yeah, that’s exactly what I want, hanging around you chumps some more,” Schlatt mutters. “What a good time. God, I need a drink. Or you know what, I’d settle for a fucking protein shake. You got any of those around?”

He doesn’t respond. It takes some effort, but anything he could say would only rile him up further, and any indication of actually, you do not need a drink, and I am going to make sure that you don’t get one literally ever is sure to set him off, which is exactly what he doesn’t need right now. So he lets Schlatt complain as he backtracks to the entrance hall, and then to the throne room where he assumes everyone else is.

His assumptions are proved correct the moment he draws close enough to hear everyone’s voices. Talking over each other, tones fluctuating. It sounds anything but peaceful.

Eret has moved their throne aside, he notes as he stops in the doorway. Most of the room is now taken up by a large wooden table, clearly meant to be a place for meeting. He appreciates the gesture, or would, if anyone seemed to be using it. His eyes find Techno and Phil first, next to a cluster of torches; Techno is still wringing water from his hair, looking very put out, but his posture is tense, on guard, and Phil looks about the same, even as he helps Ranboo get the last of his armor off without flicking himself with water.

(it is easy to forget that his family is among enemies there, that at least a few of these people would like to see them dead)

He finds Fundy next. He’s standing by himself, ears flat against his skull, and every now and then he twitches toward Eret. But the main spectacle in the room is the ongoing argument, and he narrows his eyes, trying to pick out the participants and their stances. There’s Quackity—and that’s an interesting scar on his face, though with what he knows of the man’s combat ability, or lack thereof, he was bound to gain an injury like that sooner or later, with the server being what it is—shouting at Sam, who looks like hell, frankly, and Puffy next to Sam trying to defend him, maybe, and Sapnap by Quackity’s side trying to calm him, and then there’s Eret, who appears to be trying to mediate with little success.

“—don’t fucking care,” Quackity is saying, and he sounds near-hysterical, words spat out at a record pace, even for him, “I do not fucking care what the rules were, I do not fucking care, just, fuck, Puffy, stop trying to defend him, if he’d kept Dream locked up like he was supposed to, like his job was, like we all trusted him to, we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place, just, I don’t fucking understand how you could’ve let that happen, Sam, I don’t—”

He keeps going, and at the same time, Eret’s voice overlaps—“We’ve been through this already, Quackity, and I don’t see how this is helping.”—with Puffy’s—“You’re the one who needs to fucking stop, it wasn’t his fault, so stop yelling at him!”—and Sapnap’s—“C’mon, Q, please, I know, but you think tearing into each other is gonna help right now?”—and Sam himself is just standing there, taking it, eyes dull.

On the other side of the room, Tommy and Tubbo appear in the opposing set of doors and draw up short, Tubbo placing his hand on Tommy’s shoulder to pull him back, face settling into what might be resignation. This isn’t the first time, then.

Schlatt whistles. “Damn,” he says. “Something about this is familiar.”

“I do not want to know that,” he replies, eyeing Quackity. “Don’t tell me anything about your relationship, I categorically do not want to know.”

“Wait, what the fuck do you think I’m talking about—”

He meets Techno’s gaze. Techno raises an eyebrow, pointedly squeezes his hair with a towel, and inclines his head, as if to say, You deal with this. He glares back, trying to convey, Fuck off, I am not in charge of corralling these fuckers, and Techno rolls his eyes, the arsehole, because of course, he knows that that’s a damn lie, and actually, he kind of has put himself in charge of corralling these fuckers.

(something about this is familiar indeed, and these could be earlier days if he takes a step back and squints, looks at them all through blurry vision, and this could be a nation risen up around a drug van if he tilts his head just right, and he could be in charge of leading them, because the original members are all here, him and Tommy and Tubbo and Fundy and Eret all here, except the arguments are sharper and lined with more desperation than any of their original squabbles, before the war became real, before everything, before it all fell apart for the first time, before it was never meant to be, and he can lead, can pretend that it is all like it was then, but it would be unwise, perhaps, to forget that it is not like then at all)

So he steps further inside, notes with some displeasure the way that no one has marked his presence yet, and says, as loud as he can, “What the fuck are you all shouting at each other for, then?”

Quackity cuts off abruptly, which solves eighty percent of the noise problem, and Puffy stops after he does, which solves another fifteen percent. Quackity wheels toward him, not quite shocked, but still surprised, perhaps.

“Holy shit,” he says. “They said you were back, but—wow, Wilbur, you’re looking good. For a dead guy, I mean.”

“Thank you, Quackity,” he says, nodding. He strides up to the table, though he doesn’t sit, and splays his hands against it. It would probably be more picturesque if he weren’t still dripping a bit, but he made his choice to forgo towels and that’s the hill he’s dying on, apparently. “You’re also looking good. It’s nice to see you.”

“Tell him he looks sexy,” Schlatt suggests, and with a great amount of fortitude, he ignores him.

“So,” he continues, “is any of this arguing actually something that needs to be happening right now? Or can we move on to arguing about different things?”

Quackity’s face twists. “I’d say we do need to be arguing about it, actually,” he says. “Look, Wilbur, I know you—you left a while ago, right, so you’ve missed a lot, so I’m not sure how much about this you know. But Sam was supposed to be in charge of the prison. He had one job, and that was to keep Dream in his cell. And now look at where we are. So, yeah, I’d say it’s something that needs to be happening.”

(people keep saying that, that he left, and that’s not quite right, because leaving is slinging a bag over one shoulder and waving goodbye and leaving implies going somewhere when he wanted to go nowhere at all, and leaving is a sanitary way to phrase the desperate exit he made and perhaps they don’t know better or perhaps they do but don’t want to confront it but either way something in him recoils whenever they say he left because that is not the word is not the word at all and if they’re going to bring it up he wishes that they would actually bring it up rather than dance all around it dance in quicksteps that serve nothing)

“I agree that it’s important,” he says. “I would like Sam to explain what happened. But I also don’t see that recriminations are where we need to be directing our energy at the moment. Considering that what’s done is done” —He meets Quackity’s gaze as steadily as he can, meets his gaze and brings all the weight of their history to bear, from the debate floor to the podium and the stage to the dark caverns of the rebellion— “and going through all of the ways that everyone in this room has fucked everyone else over hardly seems like the best use of our time.”

He knows the statement won’t land like it should. He knows that he of all people has no right to ask for this. But the longer he stands here, the more aware he is of all the bad blood in this room, the more aware he is that this particular group of people is like a powder keg set to explode, that they could all turn on each other and do Dream’s job for him at a poorly placed jab or threat. The air is thick with the complicated web that binds them all.

(betrayals and lives taken and homes destroyed and even the bedrock of a once stable foundation shaken and torn up)

“Well, that’s kind of a convenient stance to take,” Quackity shoots back, and it’s precisely the response he expected “considering what you did.”

“I’m aware,” he says, drowning out the way that Tommy audibly starts to protest. “I think my point still stands, though. Unless you really think now is the time to air out everyone’s dirty laundry. I’m sure Dream would find it entertaining, at least.”

(the words taste like ash and he feels like a hypocrite but he can’t let them see how off balance he is can’t let them know because a leader is needed and he could step aside and let someone else take the position but that has always been a weakness of his, his need for control, so even when the control is slipping he grasps it with both hands and hangs on to it with all his worth whether it’s wise or not because someone needs to lead and he does not trust himself but he trusts others even less and he has always been one to take on the responsibility even when he ought not to even when)

Quackity breathes in and out, eyes narrow.

“Alright,” he says. “No, you’re right.” He steps up to the table as well, pulling out a chair for himself, though he doesn’t yet sit. He also, Wilbur notes, does not apologize to Sam, but that’s not a requirement, even though the way Puffy is glaring suggests that she would like it to be.

“Wait,” someone says, and Wilbur starts, looking to—George, and how did he not realize George was here, too? Perhaps because he’s been quiet. Quieter than the norm, though he can’t say that he’s ever known George all that well. Or perhaps it’s just a surprise to see him around. “Is he in charge?” George continues. “Why is he in charge?” He sounds genuinely confused more than upset, but he still feels his hackles raise.

(he is placing himself in this position and it feels natural and right and feels wrong and unsteady like his footing is slipping like he’s on the edge of the cliff face and below the rockslide is starting but he can do this, he can, he can lead this, it’s just one meeting and he can do it because if not him then who else will and he can do it)

“I’m not ‘in charge,’” he

(lies? he doesn’t know doesn’t know)

says. “I’m just trying to get a meeting started. We’re all here, aren’t we?”

“Everyone we were able to find is in this room,” Eret says softly, and then, to everyone else. “And I agree with Wilbur. We need to plan out our next move. And seeing as a meeting table has been provided—” They gesture, rather pointedly, and Puffy is the first to nod, pulling out a seat and all but collapsing into it, running a hand through her hair. Sam is next, and then Tommy and Tubbo enter fully, situating themselves directly to his right. Phil is the next to approach, followed by Techno and Ranboo, and he does not miss the way Quackity’s eyes track Techno’s movements.

Before long, it’s just him and Quackity standing. A concession might be needed here, or at least, a show of one; he doesn’t actually want to cause too much conflict with the man, if it can be avoided, not right this second, so he tilts his head slightly and sits in a chair of his own, though carefully, so as not to slump into it. Sitting seems to make him realize just how tired he still is, and the urge to let himself sag is strong. But the ploy works; Quackity seats himself, Sapnap on one side and George on the other, and really, this has to be one of the strangest collections of allies to have ever existed.

It reminds him of the final days of the rebellion, a little bit. The way that so many flocked to their banner to depose Schlatt. It’s difficult to look back on, but that aspect of it, at least, is not entirely tainted. There was a sense of camaraderie among them that is not quite present here, but he doesn’t miss it for himself; in those days, too, he held himself apart, struggling to resolve himself to what he was going to do, knowing too well that the traitor they all feared existed was him.

But there’s people here who weren’t here then. And people here then who are missing now.

“Who couldn’t be found?” he asks, and it is Puffy who answers first.

“Niki,” she says, and his heart skips several beats, unprepared for that answer, though its truth is undeniable. “I tried, but we only had so much time, and I have no idea where she’s been staying these days. There also wasn’t time to get to Foolish, but he lives a long way out, so he’s probably fine.”

It is a struggle not to react outwardly. Niki. He hadn’t even thought to—

No. Now isn’t the time.

(even though he wronged her, too, wronged her as he wronged everyone else and she deserved so much better than what he could give her and she is a dear friend so dear that even Ghostbur always remembered her but it seems that in the midst of everything else he might have failed her again and she deserves a thousand apologies and all the atonement he can offer but now he may never get that chance, may never and now is not the time to focus on it but oh gods Niki)

“Jack Manifold, too,” Tubbo chimes in. “He was staying in Snowchester, but I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Karl’s gone,” Quackity says. “But he does that a lot, so that might not necessarily mean anything.” His voice is too strained to be causal, and Wilbur has to make an effort not to react to that, too, though for an entirely different reason. He’s not sure how much Quackity knows. Not sure how much he should say, if anything at all.

(but he has seen Karl bargain with a god has seen the universe cling to him has seen the way he sidesteps in and out of reality and through time to the places inbetween and he would not have thought it of Karl of all people but perhaps that is the point)

“Hannah,” Sam offers, and nothing else. It’s not a name he knows.

“That might be everybody, though,” Sapnap says. “Alyssa and Callahan are long gone, and people like Vikkstar and Lazar haven’t been around for a while, now. Or, wait, actually, I have no idea where Hbomb is.”

“And there’s Purpled, too,” George says around a yawn. “No clue what he’s been up to these days, but he was always pretty close to Punz.”

“Oh, yeah, and the vines were all over his UFO,” Puffy agrees. “Um, and we might want to add Skeppy onto that. I have no clue where he is, but I’d be surprised if he weren’t Team Egg, since Bad is.”

There is a moment of silence.

“Is that actually everybody, then?” George says. “That’s more people than I thought.”

“It could be worse,” Phil says. His head is tilted back, eyes tracing the ceiling, though Wilbur knows him better than to think he’s actually relaxed. “We know about Dream, and BadBoyHalo, Antfrost, Ponk, and Punz. It’s a maybe on Niki, Jack Manifold, Hbomb, Skeppy, Karl—”

“Not Karl,” Quackity insists, and Wilbur is inclined to agree with that much, at least, even while Phil presses on.

“—Purpled, and—Hannah, did you say? And possibly Foolish, since we don’t know, but I’m inclined to agree with Puffy that he’s probably alright. So absolute worst-case scenario, that’s twelve, maybe thirteen people we’re up against. Pretty even odds.”

Phil’s definition of even odds, he thinks, is slightly skewed.

“Yeah, except you’re forgetting that the Egg is a demon. Dreamon, whatever. And Dream is also a demon, kind of,” Sapnap says. “That doesn’t sound even to me.”

“He’s still homeless,” Techno murmurs.

“The fuck does it matter if he’s homeless?” Quackity snaps, and then visibly quails when Technoblade looks at him, even though it’s also obvious that he’s trying not to. History there that he’s not privy to, perhaps, and he’s hardly going to bring it up right now.

“Well, I mean, we’ve already—” Fundy tries to speak up, but he’s drowned out by about four other people trying to weigh in on whether Dream’s homelessness has any bearing on the conversation, and Wilbur takes a second to frown at Techno for the hornet’s nest he’s kicked up, and by that time, Puffy’s speaking again.

(it’s fine, it’s still under control, he has this under control, it’s fine, and so what if he’s running on too few hours of sleep and so what if he wants to set his head down on the table and stay there, because he’s not about to actually do that, and it’s fine, he’s fine, it’s all fine)

“What about you guys?” she says, and everyone else falls quieter. “You were looking for dreamon-related stuff, right? Did you find anything? Honestly, we weren’t sure that you guys would be back this soon.”

“Is that where you went?” Schlatt asks. “How the fuck did that lead to you antagonizing a god?”

He ignores him, still. It’s the only option, really. “We went through as many of the stronghold’s” —There are several exclamations at that, at the fact that they know where one of the server’s strongholds is, as well as a sigh from Phil, no doubt an objection to spreading that tidbit around, but he continues— “books as we could, but we didn’t find anything. I did attempt to provoke a god into helping us, so we’ll see if that pans out at all, but I wouldn’t call it a wasted trip. I also managed to confirm for sure that the Egg is a dreamon, but I think we pretty much knew that.”

There is another moment of complete silence.

“I’m sorry, you did what now?” Quackity asks, and from where he’s drifting behind him, Schlatt starts cackling, loud and extremely irritating, a wheezy undertone to it that makes no sense considering that he does not need to breathe.

“I attempted to provoke a god into helping us,” he repeats. “I’m not sure whether I succeeded or not—in the helping area, at least. They were very provoked. But—” He pauses, considering. It’s always a tricky game, figuring out what to say and what to keep close to the chest, but this case is harder than most. “Actually, Sapnap and George, I’d like to ask, were you aware that Dream is a god? Or was a god?”

He is predicting the chaos that erupts after that, all exclamations and incoherent sounds, most of them some variation on either “What?” or “Fuck!” or some combination of both. But he keeps his gaze flickering between George and Sapnap, measuring their reactions. George’s face goes blank—shock, he thinks, rather than the expression of someone being caught out. And Sapnap’s jaw drops slightly.

“Dream’s not a god,” he says, and his voice overrides everyone else’s. “Dream’s not—there’s no way he could’ve kept that from us. Absolutely no way.”

“He’s not now,” he agrees. “He separated himself from the vast majority of his power, somehow, when he realized he’d be corrupted by the remnants of the dreamon. But he was one. I’m sure of that much. He may have hidden it from you, but I am certain of it.”

Sapnap’s face reddens.

“Aw, I think you hurt his feelings, Wilbur,” Schlatt says.

“Dream’s not a god,” Sapnap says again. “He’s not.”

“Even if he is, what does it matter?” Fundy says suddenly. “Especially if he’s not one now. It’s the dreamons that we have to deal with. The Egg, and whatever’s left in Dream. So if we don’t have anything that can take care of that, then what the fuck is all of this for? We have nothing.”

“Weird time for the kid to grow a spine,” Schlatt comments, and he’s ignoring him, he’s ignoring him, even though the vitriol in his son’s voice hits like a knife driven through stitches, back into a wound not yet healed. Fundy’s not looking at him, and the avoidance only makes it worse.

(it is directed at you it has to be it has to be that it is directed at you and it hurts hurts hurts and there is no one to blame but yourself and it hurts and you’re so tired and you have to stay in control but it hurts)

A hand touches his. He glances down to find that he’s clenched them, that his knuckles are white and his palms are stinging from the bite of his fingernails in his flesh, and Tommy has placed his hand on his, watching him. It is an effort to relax even a little bit, but for Tommy’s sake, he manages it.

Tubbo clears his throat. “What Fundy is getting at, I think, is that even with the stuff that me and Fundy have, it won’t be enough to kill them. Maybe we could banish the Egg, but apparently the exorcism we used on Dream wasn’t entirely effective, so we can’t be sure of that much. So maybe we’re not quite at square one, still, but we haven’t gotten that far. And if we can’t beat the dreamons, we can’t beat the Egg. Since the Egg is a dreamon.” He shrugs. “We’ve managed to keep it out. And as long as none of us break the enchantments from the inside, we should be fine to hold out here. But in the way of attacks, we don’t have much.”

“Great,” Quackity says. “So where the fuck does that leave us, then?”

He narrows his eyes at the table, attempting to collect his thoughts, and then looks back up. “I think we’re getting a bit off track,” he says. “Sam, is there anything that you can remember from the moment that Dream broke out that you think might be relevant?”

He tries to keep his voice, if not gentle, then at least free of blame, perhaps because he sees what Quackity apparently doesn’t; there is nothing he could say that would assign more fault than Sam has already assigned to himself. His eyes are dark, shadowed, and what skin is visible above the lines of his mask is pale and gaunt. It’s only been two days, little though that seems possible, but Sam appears as though he hasn’t eaten or slept for a week. Frankly, Wilbur hopes that he’s not planning to join in the fight that is sure to be on the horizon; he hardly looks as if he could effectively wield a sword. He is a far cry from the confident, stoic warden he met in the prison a few weeks ago.

“I don’t know,” Sam says, voice half a moan. “I think—I didn’t go in his cell. I know that for sure. I’d have no reason to. I didn’t go in, and the lava wasn’t lowered, so somehow, he escaped despite that. Which doesn’t make any sense, since the prison was designed to cut people off from any extraneous powers that they might otherwise have access to, and that includes admin abilities.” He stops for a second. The table has fallen silent again, though this time, there is a certain anticipation to it, a horror. Even Quackity looks considering rather than outraged. “I didn’t see him coming. He stabbed right through my armor. And I don’t—maybe it’s related to the demon thing. Or maybe—Wilbur, you said he was a god?”

His voice rises in pitch on the last sentence, cracks a bit on the last word, and Wilbur is suddenly reminded that Sam, like Sapnap and George, has known Dream for a very long time. Known Dream for a very long time and somehow, not known this.

“He was,” he says. “I don’t know how much of that power he still has. Not much, I’d imagine, but in combination with demonic corruption, perhaps that doesn’t matter. And in any case, it’s not something you would have known to plan for.”

“Wait,” Schlatt says, “is that why he could see me? Wilbur, what does it mean that he could see me? Does that mean something?”

He blinks. That—might actually be a good point. One that he hasn’t thought about in some time, though where he fits that into the mess of puzzle pieces spread out before him, he has no idea.

“So we’re back to square one there as well,” Phil says.

“Then I’ll reiterate, where the fuck does this leave us?” Quackity says. “We’ve been doing a whole lot of talking here, but not a whole lot of actual planning. Does anybody actually have an idea of what to do, or are we going around in circles?”

“I don’t see you offering much of anything either,” Eret points out.

“Yeah, ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck is happening!” Quackity shoots back. “At least I can admit that instead of yanking everyone around pretending like I know what I’m doing!”

That is a barb, probably, but Quackity isn’t even looking at him, is glaring at Eret, and this is about to erupt into another argument, and he thinks he’s going to allow it to, because even laying out all the information available to them isn’t getting them anywhere, and even if he had the ability to impose control over the room, there is still a part of him that whispers, that cries out that he does not have the right, and any moment now they will decide that punishing him for his crimes should be higher on the list of priorities, especially if he tries to step back into his old role, and—he’s not nearly as over this as he hoped he was, is he?

(he forgot how to trust a long time ago and perhaps these fears are baseless but that makes them no less potent and he forgot how to trust a long time ago he cannot trust them he cannot and he holds none of his former power not even that which was rightfully his he holds none of it and he cannot trust)

(he can control this he can lead but)

(but he)

(he’s supposed to be)

(a question, one that you do not want to confront: were you ever in control?)

So he lets them. He lets them talk over each other. Even Tommy joins in after a moment, after a sideways glance and another squeeze of his hand, and he can’t even pay attention to what everyone is saying.

It is difficult to keep his shoulders erect. There is a weight trying to bring his head down to his chest. It’s just an argument, and he can hardly expect anything less from these people, so bitter have the tides of history turned between them all, but it feels like a failure on his part, and his thoughts are fracturing again, flying beyond his grasp.

“Wil,” Phil murmurs next to him, but he just shakes his head.

“Yeah, this is going great,” Schlatt says. “Good job with the meeting. Y’know, when I was in charge, I didn’t let any of this happen. I ruled with an iron first. People listened to me. They respected me.”

“And then you died in a drug van,” he says, “from a heart attack, surrounded by people who hated you.”

This gets him an extraordinarily strange glance from Phil, but no one else is paying attention. He can’t keep track of who is snapping at who, but they’re all snapping at each other. In a way, Schlatt is right; the peace lasted, what, ten minutes at most?

Schlatt is silent.

Fundy is looking at him, too. He doesn’t look back. He doesn’t want to read the expression on his face. He doesn’t want—

“Wait,” Schlatt says suddenly, “wait, fuck, do you feel that?” He sounds genuinely alarmed, for once, and after a second, Wilbur feels it too, feels

(the air in the room alight and alive and their voices waver in and out of tune with the underlying melody and the regard lies heavily on them all and the universe is always there is always with you in the back of your mind but it is leaning in closer leaning in over your shoulder and you feel)

the way the atmosphere shifts. His ears fill with white noise. Everyone is still arguing, and they need to stop, but he can’t force the words out. Beside him, Phil jolts. Tommy grips his hand tighter. He doesn’t know if they’re saying anything, can’t hear anything past the ringing.

(a realization, dim and far too late: he really should have tried to get some more sleep)

Schlatt curses. He can hear that, for some reason, loud and clear. And then, he becomes aware of the tether again, aware that the tether is being pulled, is being yanked on, a burst of energy departing from him, energy that he’s fairly sure he might not actually have to give, and—

“Hey, could you all just shut up for two fucking seconds?” Schlatt says, voice almost causal, strong, no longer echoing, and the static clears from his mind and ears, and the room is once again quiet. His hands have begun to shake, and the tether is pulling on his heart, he thinks. He doesn’t have to turn to know that Schlatt stands behind his chair, solid as anything.

His heart is literally fluttering. That might not be good.

“What,” Quackity says, “the fuck.”

And he doesn’t say anything else. Because the god appears, then, hovering over the meeting table, cloak fluttering without wind, twin halos circling their head, and it’s interesting, that he can see those now without straining his mind. The space under their hood no longer appears full of shadows, but rather of the universe itself, a darkness that is not empty, starstuff swirling just out of view.

“Oh, shit, that actually is a god,” Schlatt mutters.

He hears the humming. It bolsters him, a bit, boosts his flagging strength. He takes in a deep breath, and his heart calms, steadies.

He focuses.

“Is hovering over tables the only way you know how to make an entrance?” he asks.

The god’s hood swings his way.

“I asked the universe,” they say. “The universe did not refuse.”

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” Quackity is muttering under his breath. Eret is staring, jaw slack. Puffy has grabbed onto Sam’s arm. The reactions on his side of the table are less pronounced; Phil and Ranboo have seen the god before, Techno is not one to be impressed without what he considers due reason, and Tommy refuses to be cowed on general principle, though he does hear him and Tubbo both let out a, “Holy shit,” under their breaths, almost in unison.

But Sapnap has risen to his feet, eyes wide.

And George says, “Dream?” His voice does not waver. He sounds curious, confused. Perhaps hopeful.

The god actually seems to still, the motion of their cloak dying down as they turn away from Wilbur and toward the other side of the table.

“Once,” they say, and Wilbur is surprised that they’re answering at all, to be honest. “No longer.” They pause. “He loved you. May yet still, under the corruption that has taken him. I am sorry.”

The god does not know human emotions. The god is not a person in their own right, not really; they are built of the power of a god and little else. But somehow, Wilbur almost believes that they mean it.

Sapnap makes a gasping sound, like air tried to escape his lungs but got caught in his throat. George has sat up straighter in his seat, his whole body leaning toward where the god is hovering. His hands rest on the table, palms facing upward, as if in invitation.

If it is one, the god does not take it.

(DreamXD, Karl called the god, DreamXD, Dream XD, Dream Xed, Dream crossed out, Dream but not, and perhaps this is the cruelest thing he could have done to these two, inviting a facsimile of their friend to hover in front of them, a reminder of what they lost and are not likely to ever have again, because this god could never hope to replace the man that Wilbur remembers from the beginning, the Dream that used to be and will likely never be again)

“I asked the universe,” the god says again, and turns back toward him. “The universe did not refuse. The universe sees you, and the universe would reply.” They pause, allowing that declaration to simmer in the air for a moment. Their voice echoes, and he can hear in that echo the overlay of the song, the tune, the notes that the stars hum reverberating in the world’s atoms. “If I alone were strong enough to exorcise this corruption, he would have done so when we were whole. But you have met with the universe, and the universe would aid me, so that I might aid you.”

His attention is fixed on them. But in his peripheral vision, he sees Sapnap slump back into his seat, face contorted.

(yes, this is the cruelest thing he could have done, bringing their dearest friend’s mirror reflection here)

“And what—” He stops. Wets his lips. His mouth is dry. “And what aid would that be?”

The folds of their cloak stir. A hand emerges, and the hand, too, is darkness-that-is-the-universe, and it is not connected to any arm that he can see. Their fingers splay wide, and then dropping from the air and onto the table, there are two swords. On first glance, they seem to have been forged from diamonds, sparkling blue in the throne room’s flickering firelight, but there are runes crawling up and down the blades and hilts, runes that seem to squirm and dance and shift.

And the runes are lit with starlight. He’s not sure that anyone else can see it. But he knows.

(the runes hum)

“The void is not so easily subsumed,” the god says, “and it is from the void that the corruption comes. But the void is part of the universe even as it exists outside of the universe. Corruption can be destroyed.” The hand gestures to the swords, now lying beneath them on the table. “With great effort, but the universe has joined me in it. These are the result.”

“I’ve never seen runes like those before,” Tubbo breathes, eyes wide. He leans forward, apparently overcoming his wariness. “These can—these can kill a dreamon? Like, actually?”

“The blow must be lethal,” the god says. “But the corruption can be destroyed. You asked me for help. This is all I can offer you.”

“It’s far better than nothing,” he says, and pauses, just to hear the hum, now coming from multiple sources, the swords and the god alike. “Thank you.”

“Do not fail,” the god says, and under any other circumstance, Wilbur might laugh at the words, so stereotypical, like something out of a television show. Do not fail. As if he plans to, as if he would without this prompting. “Do not allow this to be in vain.”

The world folds around them. The air compresses. Just as they appeared, they are vanish again, the only sign of their presence the swords that still glimmer before them all. The atmosphere lightens, the sensation of being watched easing away, like storm clouds dissipating. The god is truly gone, then, and staring at the blades, he’s not sure what to feel. He supposes that he hoped for more, somehow, hoped that the god would have the power to solve the issue for them, that if he could just persuade them to act then their troubles would go away. But it makes sense that they can’t; if the god’s power were enough to destroy a dreamon, then Dream wouldn’t have been possessed in the first place, and none of this would be happening at all.

This is the second best thing. The universe itself has interceded.

(and it’s such a strange thought is something that he never would have thought plausible because the universe does not interfere the universe watches and waits but he has been there in the cradle of the cosmos and felt them watching heard them whisper the stars and the space between and they watch but they watch with love and the universe has not fixed their problems has not made them magically disappear but it has given the means to do it themselves and upon further reflection that is like the universe that is very like the universe and perhaps what it has given them is hope)

“Well, that was enlightnin’,” Techno drawls. “So glad we got all of that cleared up. Can I have one of those fancy swords, or do we need to have a whole argument about this, too?”

“Why the fuck are you being so calm about this?” Quackity says. “Why the fuck—what the fuck even was—and you!” He stands, the motion quick and sharp, and he throws an accusing finger in his—no, in Schlatt’s direction, because the god is gone and he can feel his heart fluttering again, his energy tugged away from him at a rate that should perhaps be considered alarming, and he can sense Schlatt’s presence behind him, solid and breathing. “How are you here, you’re dead, you are so fucking dead, I ate your fucking heart that’s how dead you are, I literally own your, your leg bones, I have your femurs, how are you here, and can you just die again, right now?”

“Aw, did you miss me, honey bear?” Schlatt says.

“No, I hate your fucking guts, I hate you so fucking much, you are—” And he keeps going, and Sapnap has shaken himself out of his stupor enough to glare daggers at—shit, at his fiance’s ex-husband, and that’s a bit messy, isn’t it? And absolutely no one at the table appears pleased that Schlatt is here, even though several people seem to be too focused on absorbing what’s just happened with the literal god to be too concerned at the sudden reappearance of a former dictator, but Quackity continues and Schlatt eggs him on, and Tubbo is a few seats down, swiveled in his chair and staring at Schlatt with an expression that’s impossible to determine

(but that he doesn’t like, doesn’t like the mix of hope and fear and want and disgust, doesn’t like it at all)

and it’s all too much, and his chest hurts. Like it’s too tight. Like his lungs aren’t inflating.

(Schlatt died of a heart attack hated and alone even surrounded as he was he was alone and he died of a heart attack of a)

He glances around the table one last time, hoping for some indication that somebody, anybody, wants this conversation to get back on track. Instead, his gaze lands on Fundy, who is watching Schlatt with shock and open anticipation but very little anger, and somehow, that is what does it, what sends everything boiling over, the fact that his son is looking at Schlatt with a more welcoming expression than he greeted him with.

(and he deserves it he deserves it he knows but)

He never had control here. He has to face that.

He yanks at the tether, pulls with what little strength he has left, and the flow of energy halts, and Schlatt goes translucent mid-sentence.

“Just to be transparent, the bastard’s always around,” he says into the silence, rising from his seat, blinking black spots from his vision. His own voice sounds distant, but clear, at least. “But he literally has to draw from my lifeforce to do that, so that’s enough for now, I think. Please direct your complaints to the empty air rather than me, as I have very little say in where he decides to go poking around, and I probably agree with all of your objections to his general everything in any case.” He leans against the table, and tries not to make it obvious that that’s what’s keeping him upright. “I suggest we conclude our discussion for now, and come back in a few hours to actually formulate a plan based on our new resources.”

He gives it a second, but only waits for one person—Puffy, he thinks, though his vision is swimming—to nod, hesitantly, before turning on his heel and leaving the room. Going anywhere. Anywhere else.

(you lost control of them and you’re losing control of yourself and how long until you have to admit that you never had control in the first place that you claim to be better but don’t even know what that means that the paint really is scraping off and once it’s all gone there will be no more lying to yourself and then where will you be, Wilbur, where will you be)

No one stops him. A few people call out. Schlatt—sounding irritated, but that’s tough; he’s going to have to deal with it—and Tommy, and Phil.

He took a few minutes before the meeting began. To compose himself, to relax. That didn’t work, so he’ll take a few hours. And then get back to it. There’s no choice otherwise, after all. No real rest until this nightmare is over with, whenever that may be.

He ignores the voice that whispers that he’s not going to make it that far. He’s pushed through times like this before.

He can do it again.

[chasing-classics]

About Time- Steve Rogers x Reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: angst, sadness

Summary: You and Steve were each other’s lifelines, ever since you first met all those years ago during the battle in New York and you were recruited onto the Avengers. You showed him love was still possible after Peggy. However, things drastically change when you are on opposite sides during Civil War. After the fallout you are reunited for the Battle of Wakanda during Infinity War only for the tragedy of Endgame to follow closely after. Inspired by Myra Granberg’s ‘’Bitter Heart.’’

 Suddenly you look like a stranger

A face I knew, but I must've forgotten

Emotional flicker, you were my everything

 ‘’Steve put me down,’’ you squealed, laughing as your boyfriend of nearly three years tossed you over his burly shoulder. It was extremely rare that the two of you could be like this, carefree and teasing. You were currently in your shared apartment, the typical fight for the television remote quickly escalating into a  full-blown tickle fight.

 ‘’Not a chance, doll. You accused me of sitting on the remote, now you’re gonna pay,’’ his deep laugh was something you could never tire of. That laugh was reserved only for the people who were closest to him, and you were at the top of that list. You two met when Natasha recruited you a little over three years ago, given your history as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent and your ‘’gift’’ in telekinesis. You and the super soldier were instantly drawn to each other, like your souls were previously intertwined and in sync with one another. Loving Steve came easily, it was like second nature.

 ‘’Steve what are you- NO! Nooo,’’ you shrieked as he dumped you in the bathtub that was filled with cold water. Your clothes stuck to your skin as your laugh ricocheted off the walls of the bathroom. Steve just grinned down at you, shaking off his jacket as he got in with you, clothes and all. This was the little moments you both lived for. Saving the world from corrupt gods and villainous robots was rewarding, but it was the simple moments you learned to appreciate most. You smiled up at him softly, grinning when he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

 ‘’I love you.’’

 You swam so deep into my river

Your footsteps lead everywhere I go

I never was a weeper

But I'm still holding on

  ‘’Because I’ve been competing with a ghost for the past three years!’’

 The flash of hurt across Steve’s face nearly made you back down, but the damage was already done.

 ‘’Face it, Steve. I’ll never be enough for you. If there a time machine that could take you back to her, you’d jump in it in a heartbeat,’’ the salty tears streamed down your face, washing away the dust and debris from the skirmish just moments ago. ‘’I’ll never be her,’’ your voice was quiet and defeated, cracking at the end. His silence spoke volumes as he just looked down at you, those baby blue eyes you loved to get lost in were shiny with unshed tears.

 ‘’Steve,’’ Bucky whispered, his gaze alternating between the two of you and the quickly approaching King of Wakanda alongside Nat.

 Steve opened his mouth to speak, choking on the things he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words to do so. You shook your head, still clutching the gash on your side that Bucky had unintentionally given you. Your gaze remained firm on Steve as you nodded towards Bucky, ‘’go.’’ For a split second you thought he would stay. That he’d hold you in his big, strong arms and tell you that you were going to get through this, that he’d never leave his best girl behind. That he’d tell you he loved you and you’d figure this out as a team despite your conflicting views. That belief died the second he ran into the jet, taking Bucky with him and leaving you behind. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were even holding. Your breathing became labored, the tears falling uncontrollably as you let out the most devastating, ear-piercing shriek, collapsing to your knees as the ground beneath you collapsed into a crater. You barely felt Nat wrap her arms around your shoulders as you sunk into the emptiness.

 From the jet, Steve choked on his own sobs, leaving a decently sized dent in the floor of the aircraft as he struggled to process what just unfolded. He let out a yell of frustration and despair as he tried his best to restrain himself from tearing the jet apart. He lost you. You begged him to stay, to work it out. And he had just left you behind. He left you believing you meant nothing to him, that you’d always be second-best when it came to Peggy. He left without tell you he loved you. He sucked in a shaky breath, feeling Bucky’s hand on his shoulder to offer the slightest bit of comfort as he drifted further and further away from you, leaving a large piece of him behind at that airport.

 We know we could've done it better

Fought for the little things that we wanted

I know we were so good together

It's too hard to let go

 The years following Steve going MIA were not kind to you, but you managed to adjust to not having him in your life. You didn’t consider this living; this was merely not dying. You left your superhero days behind you as the team broke up, opting for the frequent check-in from Nat and Tony from time-to-time. You moved out of your apartment that you had shared with Steve, relocating to Tony’s summer cabin. It wasn’t until you received an urgent call from Natasha saying that she needed you in Edinburgh asap. She mentioned something about Wanda and Vision needing to be brought back home. Had it been anyone else you would’ve politely declined, but she had always been like a sister to you and the one constant in your life. She had been the one to pull you out of your depression and pushed you to keep moving forward.

 ‘’I’ll be there by tonight,’’ you sighed, already pulling out your suit from the ‘’glory days.’’

 By the time you exited the jet, you had very little time to wrap your head around the situation. One minute you were going over frantic missed calls from Pepper, the next you saw news reports that stated Earth was under attack and Tony was missing. And now you were currently face-to-face with a ghost.

 ‘’Hi, doll,’’ Steve offered a small, sad smile.

 You stood there like a deer in the headlights, anger bubbling inside of you despite the tears coating your lower lashes. ‘’You have some nerve, Rogers,’’ you scoffed, approaching him from the other side of the now vacant train station. You hated how good he looked. You hated that he took your advice on growing out his facial hair after the two of you split up. You hated that he left you and still had the nerve to act as if he didn’t rip your heart out years ago. You absolutely hated that you were still in love with him.

 ‘’I can’t believe you right now. You have no idea what you put me through. The kind of pain you put me through. And now you’re standing here with those big stupid baby blue eyes thinking I’m-,’’ you were silenced when he encompassed your face with his strong hands, his lips crashing against you in a kiss that sent you into a whirlwind of nostalgia. After a moment of hesitation, you slowly rested your hands on his cheeks and kissed back, the world literally fading away. He slowly pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours.

 ‘’You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.’’

   Oh, I wish that you hadn't pulled the trigger

Shot me down with my bitter heart

My blood is getting thicker

Oh, you shot me down, you shot me down

  ‘’S-Steve?’’ the air left your lungs when your e/c met his. You staggered to your knees, your lungs suddenly feeling like they were on fire. You could vaguely see Steve sprint towards you, his hands still coated in the ashes Bucky left behind just seconds ago. He held you in his arms, just like he used to and you curled into his embrace, hands gripping his biceps. Tears rolled down your cheeks, whether they were yours’ or his you could no longer tell.

 ‘’No, no. Oh God, no,’’ he cried out, holding you to his chest as his sobs racked through his body.

 ‘’I-I’m s-so sorry,’’ you whimpered.

 ‘’You’re going to be fine, baby. Please just hold on,’’ he shook, eyes purposefully not looking at the way your legs were fading into ash. You offered one last smile to him, lifting your hand to caress the side of his face one last time.

 ‘’I love. . .’’

 Steve’s arms fell into his lap and the cries that erupted from him were sounds that no human-being thought possible.

 Oh baby, look at me just one more time

Tell me that you don't regret it

I really thought we were fine

Then you shot me down

 Steve looked down at his broken shield, every inch of his body was screaming in pain, for him to give up. But as he looked into the mad Titan’s eyes he was filled with undying resolve, his only thought being of you. If it hadn’t worked, if this had all been for nothing then at the very least he was going to die with thoughts of you surrounding him.

 ‘’Cap. On your left.’’

 He felt you before he saw you, your presence giving off waves of warmth and comfort that he hadn’t experienced since the snap. Once he turned around, all he saw was you. You beamed at him, both of your resisting the urge to run to each other as you calmly took your place beside him along with Bucky and Sam. You both turned your attention to Thanos and his army, getting ready for the fight of your lives.

 ‘’If we live through this,’’ he began as he gripped Mjolnir , you raising your eyebrow in question. ‘’Will you marry me?’’

 Oh baby, look at me just one more time

Tell me that you don't regret it

 You watched with glossy eyes as Pepper held her daughter, slowly making her way to the lake. There was not a single dry eye amongst you mourners. You shakily exhaled as the service continued, memories of Nat and Tony orbiting your mind. You felt Steve wrap his arm around you, filling you with some comfort despite the immense pain. You leaned into his embrace, a sad smile on both of your faces as you mourned the loss of your family. The water on the lake shining as the sun peeked behind the clouds, a profound promise of what was to come.

 After the service you stood by Bucky and Sam as Steve was given the instructions on how to place the infinity stones back in their designated locations. You felt uneasy, wondering if Steve would leave you a second time. He had his chance, his one chance to get his happily ever after with his first love. Nonetheless, you offered an encouraging smile, despite the feeling that this was going to be the final time you’d see your Steve. You nodded slowly, your own little way of saying it’s ok. It wasn’t until after he vanished that you released your gasp, your heart heavy in your chest. ‘I knew it,’ you ruefully thought to yourself, turning away and wondering how you’d manage to survive his absence this time without Tony and Nat there to be your anchor.

 ‘’Y/n,’’ Bucky whispered, his eyes looking past you. Your brows furrowed as you turned around, eyes widening at the sight of Steve on one knee, holding a diamond ring.

 ‘’Steve what are-,’’

 ‘’It’s my mom’s ring. I had to get it. I wasn’t going to do this if I couldn’t do it right. You told me a long time ago that if I had the chance to get in a time machine, I’d choose differently. Well, I’m showing you that in a billion lifetimes, in a billion different situations, I’d always find a way to you and I’d always choose you. And I’ll keep choosing you for the rest of our lives. I love you, doll. And after everything we’ve been through, it’s time we get our happy ever after. So, y/n y/l/n, will you marry me?’’

 ‘’I-It’s about time, Captain,’’ you joked through your tears of absolute happiness, kneeling to the ground and tackling him in your embrace. The two of you laughing, the very same laugh that he had made all those years ago in your apartment before he through you in the tub, the same laugh that was still to the day only reserved for you. The one that would always be meant for you, Mrs. y/n Rogers.