#the companions will just randomly talk to people who aren't there sometimes.

[hahasuchagarbage]

Do you have any liquiroot HCs you would like to share? 👀👉👈

OH BOY DO I

headcanon №1: Movie nights.

Image that Bushroot has huge collection of cassettes with all sorts of classic films that he likes to watch with Spike and other plants on his free time (which he doesn't get that often with the whole criming stuff and constant responsibility for taking care of his plant companions). Since most of the greenhouse inhabitants spend all their lifes inside their cultivated habitation and aren't able to see the world beyond its walls, Bushroot tries to compensate it by showing them all sorts of movies, series, documentaries etc. He even has a little area with TV, video player and cabinets with shelves full of the said cassettes to keep them all entertainment.

A special love of such ways of time spending remained with him from the time of his “former life.” When he felt especially lonely, he loved to watch various films, be it comedies, dramas or romantic films (last ones still having a special place in his heart), didn't matter as long as it helped him take his mind off things.

Ussually this whole thing is like a "family movie night", but Bushroot sometimes makes exepcions and let's them watch anything they want when he has "guests" (like members of fearsome five), cause the plant life of greenhouse can get TOO exited when outsiders visit, which can lead to them distracting everybody with their "curiosity". And so it's a deal of free TV time and at least an hour of behaving.

One time however when Bud was around to discuss their next heist, the plants started to argue about what they shall watch and it led to a stir. It got a bit too loud and Bushroot had to deal with it himself. That's when Liquidator got curious and snuck in to see what the whole fuss was about.

Long story short, Liquidator got interested in a couple of films that he had noticed, and overall surprised that Bushroot was interested in something other than gardening and unsuccessful attempts to improve his love life, so he asked him abour it and the dialog just began by itself. It was quite awkward at first, since those two weren't close at all at the time and almost never talked about anything other that crime planning. But they quickly warmed up to the new "unusual" atmosphere of it all and from then on more and more often raised other topics of conversations/discussions: films, music, business, even fashion. This was something offbeat, but quite pleasant, a change in their “working relationship”, which soon turned into a friendly, closer one. In a world where you don't have many people you can trust, having someone like each other was a breath of fresh air for both of them, no wonder they became close quickly.

During one of their heart-to-heart conversation, Liquidator noticed that Reggie was "spending too much time in the greenhouse recently" and was definitely in the need of some fresh air. They went for a walk late at night in their disguises, but were still recognized by a couple of police officers. They ran into the first building they came across, which turned out to be movie theater, where they decided to wait until the policemen left, but quickly got distracted by watching a random film that was showen on screen at the time they got inside and began to comment it while watching (mostly about how awful it was (was movie actually bad or it was just a lack of context understanding, since they started watching it from the middle? Doesn't matter, they had FUN shittalking it!)).

It definitely left a pleasant impression, that led to a new “tradition” between them randomly going into movie theaters on their free time (mostly late at night to reduce the chances of being recognized), (they sometimes invite other fearsome five members with them, but it's mostly just the two of them enjoying their best life and having hella fun together).

headcanon №2: The first one of them who made a major impact in their newly established relationship and Bud himself was Bushroot.

In one of their many conversations Bud briefly mentioned the company of other salesman who greatly annoyed our water villain, as he represented serious competition in the market. But Liquidator did not have a worthy plan in mind at that time to eliminate him, which would not draw attention to him as the most obvious suspect who would benefit from such an outcome. That's why Bushroot took it upon himself to create a solution, since it was getting closer to the date of Bud's b day and would make quiet a nice gift.

So, a few experiments + some successful mutation achievements + supply shipment manipulations and boom! By the time it's Liquidator's big day the news are loudly announcing the collapse of that said salesman company, whose bottles of water began to bloom with mutated eichhornia crassipes right on store shelves, attacking customers and creating CHAOS throughout the city.

Would be a lie to say Liquidator wasn't pretty damn impressed and happy. That day they spent together, gloating, celebrating and overall just having fun while people's careers collapsed.

Bushroot showed many signs of responsible and reverent attitude towards the desires and interests of his partner when it came to presents or gifts before (wasn't easy, but he worked hard on himself in order to correct the mistakes of his past “romances”), but that day was the day Bud's vision of their relationship "changed".

Mostly because before Reginald Bud obviously had other romantic relationshis, but the dynamic he had with his exes is something completely different from the one he has now, in a way he actually wants to do something for his man genuinely.

When he did something for others he did it "automatically", thanks to his observation skills and intelligence he was always able to understand what people around him wanted to see/hear/receive, what they needed and what actions he should make to win them over and make the desired impression on them. No real feelings stood behind it in the time.

But now? When it comes to Bushroot, who showed him so much attention, understanding, love and support; when Liquidator sees that Reggie does all this just to make Bud happy?

Now he has more sincere motives and doesn't want any of his previous dispassionate attitude towards partners affect the one he really cares about.

The whole thing is too different in a good way, too dear to him to lose and so he tries his very best to put as much love and affection to any aspect of it as possible.

headcanon №3: Bushroot is aware of all Bud's hideouts, so if you want to find Liquidator it'll be easier and faster to find his bf first (quit small one compare to the previous two lol);

headcanon №4: 90's Bushroot loves being carried by his Luquidator because of tactility, reboot Bushroot loves being carried by his Luquidator because of touch-starvation.

90's one doesn't have that problem, since he is always surrounded by his plant-buddies, spike and members of fearsome four (even Dr. Fossil I'm sure won't be agains a hug or two from bis bestie). But reboot Reginald looked so lonely in "Let's Get Dangerous" episode, they didn't gave him any plant minions or Spike, not to mention the whole mood of the ff team that was a bit awkward (?), there was no real feeling that these idiots had been working together for years. They barely interacted with one another! (I mean, come one, Megavolt and Quackerjack are the killer duo of the original series and yet didn't get ANY interaction, they say nothing to each other and that alone shows much T -T).

So yeah, with such "formal" relationship with his team mates and the lack of friends in general (+ his appearance that definitely scares most people away) I imagine he feels kinda f-cked up.

If he and Liquidator start dating at some point he would crave even the smallest physical intimacy he can get. Is it good? Is it bad? Can't tell, who knows what plans my brain has for reboot Liquiroot.

(speaking of appearance and "loves being carried", reboot Bushroot does have a not so healthy look + the way he now needs a "support" tail like vines structure to hold his lower body, I think it's fair to assume it's hard for him to move around in general. So our man will need someone to carry him around after the exhausting fights, bride style, no real effort needed - be real, dude looks thinner than a toothpick).

[sashayaweh]

Sam and Bucky dance to this song after having to take refuge in a safe house during a particularly high stakes mission. Theres a record player and Sam makes this necessary senior citizen taunts when he catches Bucky's frequent glances towards where it sits on the wooden shelf. Eventually, Sam walls over to fiddle with it because Bucky insists on faking disinterest, but Sam really wants to see him being not-so-boring for once. It was rare to see the other man take interests in his surroundings, barring the hyperawareness that he had for every environment he found himself in.

Sam could almost imagine Bucky's robo-brain whirring to calculate all the exits, people, and vantage points for any possible threat. He never seemed to fully relax. Even sitting in a chair, he sat stiffly as if he was ready to leap out at at any moment. Sam could understand. He wasn't brainwashed and weaponized for 70 years, sure. But he has seen war and death. Things he'd rather forget. And he's felt fear. The initial fear of the thousand foot free falls, the fear of the police and the banks, and the fear of losing himself in it all. So, Sam gets the mental burden and understands how hard it is to leave once you're in.

So, he fiddles with the record player and pretends not to know how to work it. There's no other records visible, but luckily one is still in place. Bucky would eventually get irritated and put everything into place because he knows what Sam is doing. And he knows that Sam knows. Because Sam knows everything. Bucky assumes this from the amount of time the other man spends talking. So, he puts the record on like old times and ignores the lump trying to force its way up and the memories that resurface. Steve-

"You're lucky, man. Etta James, and a classic at that, talk about a two for one. Looks like our luck it starting to turn around, CP30," Sam smile toothily and Bucky wants to do do something to that gap in his teeth. He doesn't quite know what that is yet. Maybe punch it because Sam knows he doesn't understand that obvious reference. But Sam's smile soften to a close, and the corners curl at the edges as his head begins to sway with the notes. Like silk curtains, his eyes slip close in simple pleasure as if he was settling himself into the music.

Bucky watches and feels awkward. At some point, in the past, he would know what to do in the situation. He would know what to do with the violins and the soulful tones curling words of longing into the air. And tired fulfillment. Maybe, he would know what to do with Sam but he doubts it. Or at least how to...be himself. Maybe then they wouldn't argue for once. Sam opens his eyes and looks over to see Bucky who stood, stone faced and deep in thought. The focus of his hooded stare was intense and Sam scoffed. The other man was being broody again.

"Are you even listening to the music or did you zone out again?" He shifts, slightly elbowing his companion and Bucky blinks, his thoughts shifting back to the present.

"You started talking, I couldn't help myself," Bucky quips and Sam let's out a soft scoft that becomes a short laugh. Bucky feels his own lips twitch.

"You gotta relax, man. You could beat a piñata with the stick you have up your ass," Sam shakes his head. That wide tooth smile is back but this time its less cocky and a little more warm. Bucky rolls his eyes and looks away. He does that a lot. At least he understood the reference this time.

Sam sighs and stops the music. He replaces the needle at the original point and let's it go. After a few seconds of crackling silence, the song fills the room again. Sam slaps the back of his hand gently against Bucky's chest and steps back with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Wanna dance, old man?"

Bucky gently freezes in shock but Sam catches it because he expected it, really. Its why he asked in the first place. He wants to shake up that tightly wound exposure that Bucky has at all times. And he was bored. Bucky was not a talkative person and their current predicament left them without many sources for entertainment. It'd been hours since they arrived, yet Sam was feeling the time pass under his skin like an itch. He was exhausted and body weary, but it was better to stay awake so he could orient to the new time zone. As a result, he couldn't help but pester the other man.

"No."

Sam just kept looking at him. His gaze was sleepy, but a twinkle of the earlier mischief still shined through. Similarly, his skin reflected the warmth of the sun as it clung to the early evening and seeped through the windows. It was lucky that they got to be above ground this time.

The staring lasted a long moment. Like it always did. Then Sam shrugged.

"I know dancing may not be a particular talent of yours-" but before he could finish, Bucky was in his space and the rest of Sam's sentenced disappeared with some of his bravado. Bucky was fast and his sudden closeness wasn't expected given the man's reservations a second ago. The sudden adrenaline that had sparked through Sam's started to fade too. He wasn't scared of his companion, but the man's behavior was largely still a mystery to Sam which meant that sometimes he was caught off-guard.

Bucky raised his right hand out, brow arched expectantly, and Sam took it with caution. The man's other hand rose to hover a few inches above Sam's hip, and it took a few moments before he realized Bucky was waiting for permission. His cheeks warmed and he hoped his complexion made it less obvious. He gently guided the metal hand until Bucky settled it on the jut of his hip, the surface cool and smooth under his soft hold.

"Aren't you a gentleman? Thats that old-school chivalry," Sam teased. Bucky pulled their bodies closer and smirked wryly.

"I aim to please." A new song had started and Bucky briefly tore his attention from the heat he felt spreading along his front. He hadn't danced in a long time. Not like this.

The current song featured a masculine husk crooning affections for the listener. It was accompanied by the distinct, steady tempo of a piano. Bucky felt his body catch the music, the way he'd been taught, quickly adjusting to an appropriate rhythm. Sam followed without much of a pause, finally starting to settle into the feelings of sharing this foreign intimacy with the familiar stranger who was holding him so damn gently. Even so, Bucky gripped him firmly like he'd catch Sam if he even thought about falling.

It was...nice. Nicer than Sam (or either of them, really) had expected. He hadn't been held in who knows how long. He was too busy and had mostly outgrown flings, but it wouldn't be fair to a potential partner if he randomly left on long missions that required little to no contact with those who didn't have the clearance. But that was kind of an excuse. Since everything that had happened, Sam hasn't much felt like having others in his space. He was a social person and owned that, sure. But it was hard to open up authentically as much as he teased Bucky about his tendency to isolate himself. He tries to take the advice he regularly gives to the veterans he takes under his wing. Its enough to sustain his close relationships, including whatever he has going on with One Armed Wonder, but he has little energy to offer anyone else. He has to remind himself that thats okay.

Without thinking, Sam realized he had sunk his head into the crook of Bucky's shoulder. He had started to drift, still following the gentle sways of his partner's body like a boat welcoming the gentle rocking of small waves after a storm. Bucky hadn't said anything, luckily, so Sam remains in his position and enjoys the comforting sounds of soul that has wrapped around them.

He had finally put Bucky onto some real good conditioner after growing sick of the greasy tresses the man sported as the Winter Soldier. No judgement. Its hard to have a solid hair care routine as an international assassin for magic super Nazis. But now, it smelled like honeyed coconuts instead of the scentless, dollar brands he used to buy at random. Even though Bucky's hair was shorter, Sam still caught wiffs of it near his neck. It was more noticeable this close given the man's lack of cologne.

Bucky had noticed earlier when Sam's head dipped into his shoulder. Shortly after, he though he had heard soft snores, but the man's body had otherwise remained upright and solid like usual. He had continued to follow the pattern they'd set, so Bucky had just shifted his hand to his partner's lower back to provide support and kept their pace steady. Otherwise, he lost himself in the heat of Sam's hand and the confusing stillness that had settled in his chest. He felt...anchored. But that was Sam. He was strong and steady, and reliable, but just as capable of sinking as anyone else without the support he inarguable deserved. The support Bucky tried to provide.

Steve was gone now. He'd left the both of them to figure out the aftermath of everything that had happened. Bucky wondered if it hurt Sam like it hurt for him. He didn't blame his Steve; couldn't begrudge him that act of selfishness after all they'd been through. Without Rogers' strong presence between them, they had been left to scramble in the gap and reshape it for two. Sam had his family and Bucky had his therapist, but nobody could understand the them as much as the other, as different as they are. So here they are, slow dancing in a safehouse Rhodes had been generous enough to lend them on short notice. He was amicable towards Bucky, but the generosity was really for Sam. Bucky's neck itched, likely with dried sweat, and he sighed internally. He needed a shower.

The man worked his hand against Sam's lower back instinctually and the other man responds with a questioning hum tinged with sleepiness. Bucky doesnt have an answer so they continue in silence. The song had changed. It was a woman again. She was singing the Blues, if Bucky guessed correctly. He's been picking up more of the music Sam liked. It could be relaxing but full-bodied one moment or rich and thrilling the next.

So far, he has only worked his way up the mid-80s. Sam jokesthat his sensitive hearing isnt prepared for the young and hip tastes that dominate the charts, but he'll still sneak recent artists into his recommendations so Bucky isnt completely "out of the loop." Like always, Bucky would just roll his eyes, but now and again he closes them and try to imagine what Sam felt when listened to the music. Wonders at the connections the man shares with the melodies, and the histories curved into the lyrics. Some things, he couldn't ever understand, even if he tries. So, other times, he just listens.

Now, he's curled over his partner's slightly shorter stature, nose brushing the other man's temple. Sam was not a small man. He was built like a brick house. His upper body was strong, but his lower half was thick with muscle and padded by soft curves of flesh. Probably because he only does legs. Meanwhile, Bucky's own body is near the opposite: wide, sturdy chest that tapers to a firm waist and steady, straight legs. They contrast nicely, Bucky thinks. Filling up the spaces the other doesn't. For two people of their size, they still manag to fit snugly with little space between their bodies. Any closer, and Bucky isn't sure how he'd handle the proximity. He feels lulled into the calmness of the evening that had unexpectedly crept up on them in the quiet of everything around them, save for the music.

The two danced a bit longer, but eventually Sam's body grew too weary after the lack of sleep. With hesitancy, they quietly parted after the final notes of the song slipped from the record player. Bucky turns stopped the music while Sam flops into the nearby couch. His growing exhaustion does not stop him from throwing a smirk Bucky's way which the man met with his regular deadpan stare.

"Not bad. Not a single hip replacement necessary. I'd say thats a success for two old men." Sam quipped. Bucky stayed silent.

"You're not old," he finally said. He hadn't moved from his spot by the record player.

"Hmmm. Well, compared to you, 42 isn't that old." Sam lets his eyes close again but Bucky clears his throat, causing one of them to open in question.

"There's a bedroom upstairs," he explains carefully. They've been on the move for some time now with little time for real rest. If Sam was going to finally sleep then it should be in a real bed, at least.

Sam lets out out a quick laugh, "if you think you can butter me up with a dance-"

Bucky cuts off his teasing with a quick glare. If there was ever a moment being the Winter Soldier has served him, it was now. Otherwise, the heat he could feel trying to redden his ears would send Sam into a fit of hysterics.

"I did a perimeter check when we arrived. There's three bedrooms upstairs. All of them have en-suites bathrooms so take your choice," Bucky grumbles out, avoiding eye contact with his counterpart. The earlier stillness he had felt was slowly disappearing now that they were interacting again. His nerves were more taxed than before. He'll analyze that later. Maybe with his therapist, but she was kind of petty, so maybe not.

Sam's teasing smirk has settled into something a little more kind as he rises frim his seat and crosses the room to where Bucky stands. He roughly claps the other man's arm a couple of times before settling the familiar weight of his hand at the ball of Bucky's shoulder.

"I'm just messing with you, man. Thanks though. That couch would do my back in after being thrown by that explosion. Luckily, you were there to provide some cushioning," he says with that toothy smile. Before Bucky can respond, Sam bids him goodnight and slowly makes his way upstairs. Bucky watches him go, dry-mouthed and slightly confused. Once Sam has completely disappeared from view, Bucky takes in his surroundings and feels the emptiness of the room without Wilson's presence.

He'll do one more perimeter check then turn in for the night. Even he can feel the pullings of sleep. Maybe tonight, he'll dream about dancing.