If Steve Rogers dies in Endgame then the MCU will literally be like a “Five times Steve lost Bucky and the one time Bucky lost Steve” fic, in this essay I will
Sam: Bucky you got a text that says “I love you so much” from B. Who’s B? Are you cheating on Steve?
Bucky: No. B stands for Bucky. Steve makes me send caring texts to myself to practice self-care.
Warnings: torture, blood, gags, evil!steve rogers, character death (brief)
Summary: nightmares for bucky are nothing new, but when one shakes him to his very core, it’s up to Steve to bring him back to reality.
A/N: stucky bc i’m trash. written for @badthingshappenbingo
Link to Ao3
Preview:
He could feel it cascading down his body, the stench overwhelming his senses. He could see it, taste it, feel it. The blood. His blood.
A whimper crawled its way up his throat but weakened around the gag drying up his mouth and soaking up most of the iron-tasting liquid. The light overhead burned his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to close them. If he did, the pain would start again and the screaming. He couldn’t stand the screaming. It never occurred to him that the tortured noises were coming from his own body.
“He is awake. Let us begin,” a familiar voice tainted with a thick German accent barked. Bucky’s body tensed. The pain was coming, he knew it was every time the voice spoke. There was the faint sound of humming electricity and black turned to white. The screaming began again, muffled but loud in his ears.
Bile rose in his throat and, as the white faded, he could feel himself going as well. Bucky could feel his consciousness slipping away from him, drowning out the sounds of torture and stench of sweat and blood. But a sharp hand to his cheek brought everything back to him. The pain faded and the voice came back.
“Your screams never cease to amuse me, Mr. Barnes. Now, I have a surprise for you. We have your good friend here and he’d very much like to say hello.” The German’s voice was laced with sarcasm. Bucky knew nothing good would come out of the situation, but he cracked an eye open anyhow, taking in his dirty, bright surroundings.
He could see his captor’s silhouette, but a second filled his vision - this one broader and much taller. Bucky’s heart leaped at who it reminded him of. Steve. The second silhouette stepped forward and Bucky could have sobbed with relief. It was him. He was undercover, ready to bust him out. He was saved. He-
Consider: sam accidentally falls asleep and slouches onto cas' shoulder while they're sitting on the couch doing research for a case (when he wakes up two hours later cas is still there, he's drooled all over cas' shoulder, and cas has thrown his trench coat overtop of him as a blanket)
((cas just smiling down at him when wakes up, “good morning sam :)” like this isnt The most embarassment thing to ever happen to sam in his entire life but wow cas’ eyes are really blue this close and he kinda smells like honey somehow???? Sam just stares stupidly at him for a full minute before he gains the brain power to say anything back, and even then it’s probably smth rlly dumb kdjfmfkfjd This Boy’s In Love))
So what’s it all add up to? It’s hard to say. But me, I’d say this was a test for Sam and Dean, and I think they did all right. Up against good, evil, angels, devils, destiny, and God himself. They made their own choice. They chose family. And, well, isn’t that kind of the whole point?
alright, you saps. we’re not gonna spend the next 14 months wallowing. let’s spend the final year the way we’ve always lived: shitposting, inconsolably grumpy and absolutely surrounded by sexually explicit fic
How about growingupugly and then turning out sort of okay looking but you don’t know for sure because your self esteem is shot and you’re convinced you look awful?
#GrowingUpUgly
Being so wholly convinced of your hideousness that as an adult you now literally cannot even imagine that someone would pay you a compliment and mean it; the only conceivable thing that could be happening is that they’re either a) taking the piss like the boys in school used to or b) so repulsed by you that they feel sorry for you and are telling you you’re pretty because they think you need to hear it.