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[painted-kaleidoscopes]

Silver Lining

First thing I’ve written in literal years. Um, good to be back in the saddle.

Enjoy son Din Dijarin fluff!

Mentions of sex, briefly. No other warnings. Liberty on timeline here but before the crest is destroyed. Kind of an au with the timeline so don’t come for me!

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It had been 4 months, give or take, since you had joined The Mandolorian and his foundling. Yet somehow you both slipped into an easy, domestic routine. It had started off with you as simply cargo, desperate to escape your unfortunate living situation on tattooine, and Mando having killed your enslaver; he agreed to take you to Navarro. Somehow along the way Grogu grew attached to you, so you stayed on with the boys and although he often said otherwise, Mando had decided you were staying long before you had reached Nevarro.

It began subtly, glances that lingered too long, jokes that you definitely read in between, moving to touches and sweet words that you would come to know as Mando’a; eventually after a long night of celebratory drinking, him sneaking shots under the helmet, you got him into bed. Once that wall fell, everything settled into a steady life. You had grown used to waking up in the cot, your unarmored Mandalorian, save for the shiny helmet. Once he had let his walls down around you, you realised how much sleep the poor man must need without getting because you always awoke first. You had no complaints though, enjoying the moments where you’d steal looks at his dozing form, usually sliding from the warmth of bed to rouse the child and make breakfast. By this time you would usually lazily crawl back into the cot with the child in your lap for a nap, humming random songs from your childhood while you used the last bit of your morning to repair his battle torn gear. Restitching gloves or shirts.

The first time you did it you had wanted to do something nice for him. He always treated his armour delicately, gently setting it in place when he would undress around you, when he polished it he took his time, like it was a ritual. You admired it. After all those pieces of steel were the reason your Mandalorian returned to you everytime, and you understood the respect it deserved. So you had woken up one morning, eyeing the blaster smudged metal and snuck out of bed to get the oil and cloth. Returning with Grogu you started to softly serenade the space while you worked. When he finally awoke, you were beaming, excited for him to see your work. He looked at you and tilted his helmet slightly.

“What is is cyar’ika?” His eyes darted from your face to your hands and then to the bed beside you. You watched him take in your effort and even though his face was unknown, you could feel the smile radiating from him.

“You- you cleaned my armour for me?” You could hear bashfulness in his voice. As if he couldn’t believe you would do something like that for him.

“Well, I consider myself the housekeeper around here, figure if I can wash your flight suits and clean around here, I can help with keeping you reflective too.

You knew it was deeper than that, both of you did, but you lightened the act, trying not to embarrass him even more. You couldn’t tell, but under his visor he was gazing at you with pure adoration, it was the moment he knew he loved you. You didn’t know that, but you do know that small act of domestic intimacy changed things. He had already dropped walls, but suddenly he was doting. Bringing you gifts, and flowers when he could. Radioing you more while he was out on missions. You also noticed that he was leaving his amour unpolished more and more, and it made you happy knowing that he trusted you enough to be the one to do it.

The one garment he wouldn’t let you touch drove you crazy, his cape always smelled burned and had more holes then a grated door. But he would always deny your attempts to stitch it up.

“Mesh’la. You do enough. It’s just going to get ruined. And it’s not as important as the things you already fix.” He would say. You always protested but let it go. Knowing it was a loosing battle and deciding peace was better.

Until one morning. Mando had left for a bounty and you and the kid were stuck in the middle of the jungles of Endor. Before he left he always tried to give you timeframes, both of you knowing they were prone to changes constantly, but he was usually right with his estimates.

“I’ll be back in 4 days.” He stood on the boarding platform, looking back at you and Grogu with a final nod. He turned and stepped off into the grass.

“Please be safe.” You saw a nod of his helmet, but he didn’t stop. Biting your lip, contemplating your next words carefully, but wanting them spoken before he was gone.

“We love you!” You quickly spit out. Instantly regretting the immediate stillness your words had caused the Mandalorian. He turned around, thoughts and expressions concealed from the questioning gaze and your breath hitched in your throat. He sauntered back up the plank slowly. The whole walk you could feel his eyes boring into you. He reached out his gloved hand, placing it gently on your cheek. From your hip Grogu gurgled at the softness from his father and observed the two of you. The Mandolorian was a man of few words, you had learned to interpret his actions and body languages to decipher him. With your free hand you grasped his hand from your cheek and starred back into the black t of his helmet, waiting for his response.

One never came. He instead moved his hand to the back of your head, and gently brought your temple to his metal cladded one. Your heart fluttered and you almost dropped your child at the action. After a few moments of basking in the moment he pulled away. He never actually responded, but you understood the message. He felt the same. You gave him a massive grin and nod, sending him off as he retreated back down the platform.

“Four days, Cyar’ika.”

You could hear the smile even through his modulator and nodded eagerly back as the plank raised. You looked down at Grogu and gave him a doting look. “Let’s get this place spotless for your dad’s return, huh?” He gurgled in response and squirmed to be released. You put him down, starting to tidy up your home.

Once you were satisfied with your chores and you and the kid were fed you took him to the cot for a nap. You had been waiting eagerly for Mando to be gone on his next bounty so you could give him his first gift from you. You gently reached under the mattress, hoping he hadn’t noticed the wrapped package you stashed and found the paper sack. While exploring the shops on Nevarro while he collected his next puck you had found a cape. It was similar to his, black woven and plain, but the shop keeper had also sold you some thread. It was a beautiful hematite colour that the people of Nevarro wove out of a mineral found in the lava rocks. It was strong and delicate, offered a slight glint of metallic against the black cape.

Before your ensalvement on Tattoine, you had lived the daughter of a knight. Your mother had taught you to embroider, to care for his equipment, thinking you would find a Soldier of your own to care for one day. Although she had thought it would be from your own people, you had ended up like she thought. You remembered right before The Purge, she had taken your fathers cloak, helping him get fitted for the coming battle, she had stitched words of love and strength into the garment, hoping it would save him in the fight. Your memories ended there, getting taken in the purge and loosing your life. You never forgot that act of devotion though.

Tears from the memories bristled your lashes as you stitched. Your time with the Mandolorian had taught you enough Mando’a that you included his native tongue, knowing it would mean even more. Finally, you hemmed the bottom, adding a single strip of the silvery thread all the way through. A sign of always finding the positive should the words fail. You sat back, admiring the work, looking for flaws to fix. From next to you Grogu began to stir and you looked over to his big eyes gazing up at you. You motioned to the cape, “Think he’ll like it?” He babbled and you chucked, taking it as a yes, but mostly for your benefit. A loud beep you recognised as your com was coming from somewhere in the sheets. You desperately tore apart the bed until your hands closed on the device.

“Y/N?” You heard Mando rasp from the other side.

“I’m here, Mando.” You could hear him sigh in relief at your voice and it made you blush.

“Cyar’ika, I’m returning early with the target. I’ll see you before nightfall.”

You grinned at the thought of him having shaved 3 whole days off the hunt.

“Hm, that was quick. Desperate to get back to me or what?” You quipped. He huffed softly at the joke. “Yeah, something like that.”

“I lo-“ you began, but the line went dead. He would be here soon anyway, ‘Ill tell him then’ you thought. You picked the kid up, going to grab him a snack, and prepared the ship. You knew he was more than capable of preparing the carbonate chamber, but it made you feel useful to help. Right as you finished powering up the craft the plank lowered and Mando stomped on, dragging a limp man in tow. You moved out of his way as the Mandolorian shoved the bounty into the chamber, only relaxing his battle ready stance when the target was frozen.

“Hi.” You whispered.

“Hi.” He breathed back, grabbing your arm to pull you into his chest. You both stood there, taking the other in, elated to be back within arms reach. The peace didn’t last long as a crash came from the upper deck and you both let go at the same time as said:

“Grogu.”

Knowing the child was causing havoc upstairs. Hand on his blaster just in case, Mando was up the ladder first. You weren’t far behind and when you cleared the top you began to laugh at the scene in front of you. Somehow the child had grabbed the cloak you made for Mando, obviously desperate to be the one to show his father. He and gotten wrapped up and was looking to his dad for help from the mess he got himself into. Mando grabbed the kid first, paying the garment no mind until you reached over him and grabbed it. Looking to the child you gently chastised him.

“Naughty. That was my gift to him.” You chuckled and tapped his ear gently turning back to the Mandolorian who had his head cocked at you in confusion. “Well, it was a surprise for later. But, I made you something. Mando” You began to blush, suddenly shy and questioning if he would like it. You sheepishly held out your work, feeling his surprisingly gentle gloved hands grasping it from your grip. He let the clock unfurl, taking it in.

His hand found the subtle embroidery, fingers tracing the words and you heard a slight inhale from the voice modulator.

“This is Mando’a.” He stated it like a question, glad you couldn’t see the redness on his face at the fact that you had been learning his language. His eyes took in the words admiring the protective prayers you picked for him.

“Yeah. I’ve been learning so I can teach Grogu.” You admitted, at ease watching him take in. His helmet looked back up at you and you smiled at him. He was a man of few words you reminded yourself, hoping he did like it. “Well Mando?” You gently questioned, prodding him for a response.

“It’s Din.” Your brow furled in confusion. Was that his- you didn’t finish asking yourself before he was standing right in front of you still clasping his new cape. “My name, it’s Din.” You felt your knees get weak at his declaration, heart swelling that your simple act had inspired such openness from him. “Can’t have the woman I love calling me some nick name now can I?” You could hear his emotion through the helmet, and collapsed into his arms. Placing a kiss on his metal cheek. He had said it back, your heart fluttered as he embraced you.

“I love it, Mesh’la. I love you.” He signed in contentment, forehead falling to yours in the most intimate touch his people had.

‘He loves me too’ you quietly hummed, knowing you had finally found your silver lining after all this time.

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

Midnight

NFSW!!!!!

Taron x Male Reader

Warnings- 18+, language, graphic, smut

Word count- 1576

I bit his bottom lip and pulled back to attach my lips to his neck. He gave a soft moan at my movements and relaxed into my arms a bit. His hips were still moving against mine as I sucked on his sweet spot. I lightly grazed my teeth along his skin before sinking them in. Hard enough to mark, and he pulled back abruptly. His eyes darkened with lust and he licked his lips.

“What was that?” He growled out, placing his hands on either side of my head.

“Bite the vampire first to assert dominance.” I laughed at the look on his face and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. He didn’t move to kiss back, or step away; instead he just kept staring at me. His face getting harder with each passing second.

“Darling? You’re scaring me.” I placed my hands on his chest, trying to get him to react, or move. His hands went to my arms, keeping me tight against the wall and his lips went to my neck. I moaned at the feeling of his teeth sliding across my skin and I felt him pressing me harder into the wall. I wrapped my hands around his back and had to bite my lip to keep yelling in shock when his teeth sank deep into my neck.

“We’re leaving.” He whispered against my ear before harshly biting the lobe and stepping away from me, leaving my body unsupported. His face was still stony and I felt my heart start to flutter at the possibilities. I managed to get my feet back under me and straightened my bow tie and jacket. He turned back around with his hands in his pockets and motioned with his head and his signature smirk. I all but scampered after him and felt my hands begin to shake when he stuck his hand out behind him for me to grab. We walked back into the party and said our mandatory goodbyes before calling a cab.

The whole ride back to our apartment was silent and filled with small but deliberate touches meant to get us needy. We pulled up to the building and he paid the cabbie and got out, walking away from me. In the elevator I tried to kiss him but was met with his hands pushing me away.

“Patience is a virtue.” He muttered before walking out the open door, leaving me to stumble after him.

He unlocked the door and motioned for me to go in before him. In a flash he had shoved me against the wall and held his forearm to my throat, blocking airflow.

“You’re going to shut that mouth of yours until instructed otherwise.” He looked at me waiting for a response so I nodded my head, now getting light headed with adrenaline. “Speak!” He shouted and tightened his clamp on my throat.

“Yes Sir.” I barely rasped out, before he held his other hand over my mouth. “Good. Go upstairs. No touching yourself like a whore.” His tone turned more casual as he let me go and walked over to the kitchen, pouring himself a drink. I stood there for a second wondering what his play was. He walked over to the window and gazed out; waiting for me to follow orders.

I ran upstairs, tripping up them, unable to climb fast enough. Once in the bedroom I stripped of my clothes and felt myself aching for touch, anything to release the built up pressure. My toes curled at the sound of footsteps coming towards the door. Taron walked into the room, and began to slowly undo his cufflinks. He didn’t look at me or speak, instead he acted like I didn’t even exist. I let out a small whine and his head snapped up, eyes almost black.

“What did I say?” I swallowed in fear as he came towards me. I kept my mouth shut like instructed and I saw his jaw clench. “Turn around.” He ordered, never breaking eye contact. I felt myself get excited as I did so, knowing what was coming. Right on cue a loud smack reverberated around the room. I bit my lip to keep in a cry and soon tasted my tinny blood. I heard him walk away, but I stayed in the position he left me in, not wanting to push him further.

The bed sank down behind me and I jumped as his hand grazed my thigh. It was the first gentle touch and I wanted to ask if he changed his mind, but I kept quiet. His lips brushed the swollen spot on my ass and I barely heard his voice.

“Do you trust me?” He murmured against my skin. My mind raced with ideas of what was going to happen. “Do you trust me?” He asked again with more force.

“Y-yes.” I breathed down into the mattress.

“I’m going to need your explicit consent for my to do this.” My heart raced.

“What is it?” He kissed my thigh and I felt his head shake.

“Do I have your consent?” He ignored my question, instead demanding an answer.

“Always.”

“Safe word is midnight.” He rasped. I felt the bed move and heard him walking around again. I closed my eyes in anticipation and tried to calm my nerves.

“Turn over.” I flipped myself and saw him completely naked with a small knife in his hand. My breathing grew heavier and I saw worry flash through his eyes. He waited for my forfeit, and when I didn’t he continued.

He knelt over me and went back to his dominant attitude, squeezing my neck while his lips hungrily roamed mine. I felt the cool metal against my chest and I opened my eyes, trying to see his movements. The tip lightly pressed into my skin and I felt him drag it down to my stomach. With no warming he drug it over my thighs, adding the slightest bit of pressure and I felt my skin sting. He began kissing down my body, dragging the blade over my other thigh and I felt his lips land at the scratch. His tongue lapped my leg and I felt chills go through my body at the feeling. Again the knife stung my thigh and then my stomach and chest. His lips following to every incision. I felt myself desparate for attention and I gasped for air. His head lifted from my body and I opened my eyes to see his mouth and chin stained red. I moaned at the sight. He grinned and I felt myself relax at the pass on punishment.

I felt his hardon against my leg as he licked back over the cuts and landed at my groin. The cool metal traced my hard cock and I held my breath. I expected the sting of blood, but instead I felt his hand brush past the base. It took everything in me not to cum at the touch, and I heard him chuckle as if he knew.

“Get up.” He ordered, standing off the bed. His hard erection was positioned over the foot and I crawled towards him on my hands and knees, looking at him through my eyelashes. He reached out and shoved my head into him, pressing past my parted lips and right into the back of my throat. He pulled out and thrust again, smirking at my gag, before he began mercilessly pounding into my throat. I tasted a little bit of precum and after one last thrust he pulled out.

I rolled onto my back so I could see him and I felt myself leaking in anticipation.

“You think you’re calling the shots now?” He asked as he held the knife against my throat. I looked at him, pleading for anything.

“You can make noise now.” He whispered as he slammed into me. Moans spilled from my lips with every slap of his thighs against mine. I felt myself getting close just by watching him lose himself. He dipped his finger down to my thigh and licked some of the blood that remained.

“Shit.” He whispered as he spilled into me. I whined as he pulled out and felt my legs shaking. I lifted my hand from his place grasping the sheets so I could release myself, but instead I felt his lips sink onto my throbbing cock.

“Oh fuck!”

His hands played with my balls as his toy he teased my tip and I felt myself closer to the edge then I wanted. With one final flick of his tongue and a squeeze of his hand to my neck, I came undone and his lips lifted off of with a pop. I felt my vision go black and all I could do was pant in satisfaction.

His head surfaced from my crotch and he climbed up next to me on the bed.

“You alright?” He asked. His sweet voice muttered against my neck as he lightly kissed my slightly bruised skin. All I could do was nod, still not over the high.

“That was amazing.” He panted into me. “Thank you for trying that.”

I opened my eyes and looked at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” A pinkish tint appeared on his cheeks.

“I dunno. Figured you would be weirded out. It is honestly gross. Not gonna lie.” I looked down at my scabbing cuts and smiled.

“I think it was hot.”

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

Ineffable Sadness

Warnings- Angst, swearing, mentions of depression

Word Count- 744 

You sat at the edge of your piano bench. Hands floating just above the keys. ghosting notes and chords, the real sound a haunting hallucination. Your mind wandered to David as your hands absentmindedly began to play ‘Gymnopedie No.1″ 

‘David, I feel like you’re pulling away. You have to let me in if I’m to help you.’ 

‘I don’t need your help Y/N!”

He took a large huff of breath and moved his fingers through his hair. His jaw clenched like he was trying to hold back something that he wanted to say and you braced yourself for the blow to come. 

‘You know, maybe I’d be better if you weren't always telling me I’m not okay. Stop trying to fix me all the fucking time.’

He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and stormed out onto the flat balcony, making a point to slam the door behind him.

You sank onto the couch, feeling tears hit your cheeks and hands as you silently cried. You heard the door open and suddenly David was crouched in front of you. His face was a mixture of regret and resoluteness, you feared what would come next. He just placed his hand on your thigh, giving you a sad grimace before standing up and walking into your shared room. 

You quickly let your cheeks dry, deciding that you needed to get away for a little while. David’s words had cut deep and you couldn’t figure out if they were genuine for from a place of anger. 

You grabbed your purse and left the flat, not knowing where you were going, just knowing your feet knew the way. You ended up back in front of your flat. You hadn’t been in weeks, you and David were inseparable, and he always insisted you stay with him. 

You felt tears falling onto your keys at the memory of the fight, and you let out a loud sob. As you came out of your trance, you checked your phone and saw a text from David. 

‘You’re right. This security detail is taking a lot out of me. That’s no excuse, I know. I’m so sorry I’ve been taking it out on you love. Please come home so we can talk.

The text arrived almost an hour ago, but you had been to caught up to notice. You decided to ignore it and instead, you went back to your piano, choosing Motzart’s Requiem to release your emotions. 

You had just started when a feeble knock interrupted your thoughts. You could tell it was David before you heard him softly say your name from the other side. 

“Please.... talk... know... Sorry.” You just heard bits of his words, but you knew it was an apology. 

Despite everything screaming at you to ignore him, you stood up from your bench and walked over to your front door. When you opened it you saw David leaning against the frame, his bloodshot eyes staring directly into yours. 

“Can I come in?” He cleared his raspy throat and stood up straight, looking hopeful. 

You stood aside, letting him walk into your flat. 

You both sat at the couch, neither speaking but both of you were lost in thought. You wondered if this was a bad idea, maybe you two should have had a day to calm down. 

“I am so sorry. God that sounds so weak compared to what I want to say. You have been my only grace for months. Every day I come home and I want to curl up into a ball. And you- you are the only one that helps me. And to think that I’ve only been hurting you... It kills me. I’m not okay, despite what I keep telling myself and you. I keep getting deeper and deeper into this hole. It almost feels too late. I haven’t felt like this since I lost- since I lost the Secretary. I’m getting help, I have to. I love you so much. Please forgive me.”

You sat there, watching him fall apart, his accent growing thicker the more he cried. He let out a sob and you shifted to him, wrapping him into your chest. 

“It’s alright darling. I love you too. I’m so glad you’re recognizing this and dealing with it. We’ll get better. Together, like we always do.”

“Thank you. Thank you.” You heard him whisper into your thighs. 

You began to cry into his shoulder, while he cried into your lap, and you sat there. Relishing in each other’s embrace, enjoying the first real moments you have had together in months. 

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

Speeches and Swing

Major Bucky feels! Sorry, this one is so long!

So, we’re pretending the ending of Infinity War never happened. This means that Thanos was defeated and everyone is safe and alive, so Endgame never needed to happen. 

Paring- AU Bucky/ Female reader 

Warnings- Smoking, language!

Word Count- 1655

The cool wind left patterns of raised bumps on my arms and tickled the back of my throat as I took a deep inhale. It was an unusually cold breeze for July, but it was a welcome chill. The band’s shrill trumpet lofted through the sky, loud enough to be heard from the ground level. I turned around, watching everyone dance to the Glenn Miller song and smiled as I saw Steve emerge from the floor in his Army uniform. He looked around, eyes hoping to find something worthwhile to drag him away. He glanced at me and I saw him relax as he headed for the balcony.

“Hello, Captain. Happy birthday/ retirement” He smiled and tipped his cap. 

“I’m glad you could make it Y/N. It’s been too long.” I nodded in agreement and lit a cigarette.

“So, how is it being the only 102-year-old in the workforce?” I mused as I took a deep inhale. 

He glanced down and I could tell I hit a nerve. “I’m sorry Steve, I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t do anything,” he cut me off and held up a hand to stop me, “It’s just... This.” He finally managed to get out. “It just all feels so real, part of me thinks I’m going to look up and see the old me, or Buck with both flesh arms. Every brunette I see I immediately register as Peggy.” His words fell off, ending quite and hopeless. “Tony outdid himself, this is so close to how the 40′s were. It feels too much like home, y’know?” 

He looked up at me, searching for understanding and I nodded. “Steve, I can’t really say I know, but I do know how it feels to be constantly reminded of the past."

"Steve!" We both looked up and a tall, brown-haired man waving from inside. "Sam and I are ready to make our toasts!" He shouted over the music. 

Steve looked back at me and motioned with his head indoors. He held out his elbow for me. "Ever the gentleman, Steve." I chuckled. We walked over to the famous Bucky Barnes. He turned around when we reached him and we walked in.

"There he is!" Sam smiled and motioned to Steve.

Steve unhooked our arms and leaned down to my ear "I'll catch up with you later." I smiled at him and waved him off, finding a spot near the front of the stage. 

The lights dimmed and a spotlight went up, shining on Sam. “Steve...”

I felt eyes on me and I turned around the find the brunet man, Bucky, staring. He gave a smile and took a sip from his flute, not breaking eye contact. I looked him up and down, trying to get a read, but I saw nothing beyond the small scars peeking out from under his old uniform. He was eyeing me just the same, reading me, albeit probably better than I was reading him. Right as I began to move towards him, he started towards me and smirked, realizing we were thinking the same thing. I turned to say hello to him and he brushed passed me and headed for the stage. He kept that same smirk all the way up the small stairs and his eyes landed on me with a wink. 

“102, can you imagine what the commandos would have to say about that?” He let out a laugh, but I could tell he didn’t quite mean it as a joke.

“They’d probably tease me about you still being sewed to my hip.” Steve cracked. They both smiled each other, and everyone else in the room buzzed with laughter. 

“Steve. I first met you on the schoolyard in 1925. We were in first grade and you had managed to insult some of the other boys. Now, my father always taught me to stand up for myself and those who needed it. So I walked over to where you were getting taunted and punched Joseph Marshall square in the nose,” everyone let out a chuckle as Bucky recomposed himself “Little did I know I was signing on for a lifetime job of punching people square in the face for you. It is now 2019, and I have punched for you in every alleyway New York has to offer and in almost every country the world has to offer. I told you once that I was following that little guy from Brooklyn. I’ll always follow that little guy from Brooklyn. Frankly, I can’t imagine how my life would have gone had I not become your bodyguard at 7 years old, but I know it would’ve been a lot less action-packed. That being said, at 102, I’m glad you’re hanging up the suit because honestly, pal, my knuckles are ready for a break and I’m tired of following you to enemies. After 90 somethin’ years, I’m ready to follow you to peace. Happy Birthday Stevie, may this year be your 1946 after all this time.” Bucky raised his glass and the room followed. “To Steve!” 

Everyone cheered and the lights returned as Bucky walked off stage and the band filed back out. 

I walked around the room, mingling but still eyeing and feeling eyed by Bucky. We danced in circles, always avoiding, seeing who would break first, planning how it would go. 

“Y/N? Holy shit it’s been a while.” I abandoned my task of watching the mysterious man and found Natasha in front of me. 

She kept me occupied, talking about everything that had happened since we saw each other in Wakanda, and how her life has been coming into peace. 

Throughout our conversation, I found my eyes wandering back to Bucky and I saw him and Steve standing over an empty table. On it lay war memorabilia, a picture of The Howling Commandos with Peggy Carter, and six filled pints. The pair gave a small salute to the table and then hugged each other. 

Their tribute was cut short by the sound of the band playing In The Mood. The room grew louder as a jovial tone sang through the room, and the dance floor became packed. 

“I’ll catch up with you later. I’m making Steve dance with me.” Natasha narrowed her eyes playfully and went to drag Steve onto the floor. 

 I made eye contact with Bucky and smirked. He walked over to me and when he reached me he stopped and held out his hand

“Care to dance, Ms...” he trailed off, waiting for me to finish his sentence. 

“Y/N.” I supplied him as I placed my hand in his. “Yes, I would love to dance.” He escorted me to the dance floor and immediately picked up to the beat of the song.

We danced through In the Mood, Dream a Little Dream of Me and when the final note of Sentimental Journey played we broke apart. He gave me one last spin and leaned us down. With a small kiss to my hand, he hooked my arm in his, leading us out to the balcony.

“I feel like we have met before, your face is familiar.” He spoke offhandedly as he leaned against the rail. I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips. 

“That line won’t work on me. Sorry soldier.” I laughed while pushing down the brim of his cap slightly. 

“It never has, just thought I’d try anyway.” He grinned and lit a cigarette, offering it to me. I took it, and he lit another, moving closer to me as he did so. We leaned on the railing silently, observing the city and each other, when he broke the silence. 

“Steve and I grew up over in that direction. You can’t see it from here, but I remember being a kid and sneaking away to Manhattan to see everything. There was a cafe here on Park Avenue that we used to go to when we could.” His voice was lofty and I could tell he was lost in a different time, reliving the New York of his past. He gave a look in every direction, seeing it in a way I never could. When his eyes landed back on me he busted into a toothy grin, one that I had seen in old photos of Bucky. 

The trumpet started back up again from inside and the melody that followed was one that near made me nostalgic for the past. He looked at me, and I saw a twinkle in his eye, one that I imagine the younger Bucky had often. He threw the remainder of his cigarette off of the side and went to the center of the balcony. He held out his hand, waiting for me to join him. I followed suit and walked over, letting the sound of It’s Been a Long Long Time wash over me. 

I began to sing the lyrics as we swayed, the tune coming naturally. I hadn’t even realized until he joined in with me. 

“You have a beautiful voice, Mr. Barnes.” I crooned as he spun me back into him. He gave a small blush as he bent me down for the finale. His cool metal hand made my skin raise where he brushed my arm and I gave a small shiver. 

We pulled apart and I ran my hands through his medals and ribbons, lost in thought when he cleared his throat. 

“Well Doll, this has been a pleasure, but I gotta get going. I hope I see you again soon.” He kissed my cheek and closed my fist around a piece of paper before tilting his cap and walking off. 

I stood motionless and awestruck, wondering how he managed to sweep me so far off my feet. The small sliver of paper was digging into my tight fist and I opened it 

‘See you around, Doll,’ 

I smiled at his handwriting and number scrawled on the bottom. 

“Yes Mr. Barnes, you definitely will.” 

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

Worth Fighting For

This is another Bucky fic. Endgame gave me all the Bucky feels, so enjoy!

This title is from an old song by the Ink Spots that was popular during WWII. I’ll link it so you can listen to it if you want.

Word count- 1230

Warnings- none

Pairings- Bucky x reader 

A loud knock on my door brought me out of my dream and sent my heart racing. I glanced over to my clock and silently chastised the person who thought I would be fit for company at 8:30 in the morning on a Sunday. I quickly grabbed my robe and padded up to the door, glancing through the peephole. I saw the familiar top of a blond head and I smiled as I opened it to find Steve. His head was tilted to the floor and I could see his eyes were slightly puffy as if he had been crying. His hands were shoved into his pocket and he made no move to step in or to talk. “Steve?” His head popped up at my voice and he gave me a weak smile.

“Morning Y/N. I’m sorry to bother you so early.” Tears welled up in his eyes and I saw him trying to swallow them down.

“You’re never a bother. Would you like to come in?” I stepped aside and motioned with my hand. His head nodded faintly, but his lip was quivering too much for him to respond. “Care for a cup of coffee?” I asked as I began my Sunday routine.

“Yes, thank you.” He was still avoiding eye contact and I could hear his leg bouncing as a tick. I kept eyeing him wearily but he gave no sign of telling me without some prodding.

“Steve, what happened? Are you alright?” Tears began to drip and I heard the patter as they hit the floor. His leg stopped bouncing, his muscles instead shaking his small frame. His breaths were quick and shallow, rattling on every exhale and he gripped his thigh tight. I walked over and rubbed his back, trying to get him to calm down enough to explain what was going on. Three loud knocks made me and Steve jump, and he choked back his sobs.

“Y/N, Steve.” I frowned at the voice of Bucky as Steve began to shake more. Another knock came and I opened the door to find a disgruntled looking James leaning against the frame and resting his head on his arm. “Morning sweetheart.” A strained smile made its way through my lips and I gave a look back to Steve before stepping out into the hallway and closing the door. 

“What in the Lord's name is going on? He can’t even speak.” Bucky just sighed and rubbed his hair. 

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here. Can we talk? Altogether?” He made his way into my apartment and I followed. I saw Steve had poured three cups of coffee and was sitting at the dining table, waiting for us. His normally blue eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks resembled two mosquito bites and he didn’t stop staring at Bucky; the sadness seemed lessened with anger. 

“I’m glad we’re doing this sooner rather than later. No point in draggin’ this out.” Bucky whispered to the table top, but I know it was meant for us. Fears began to race through my head as I thought of all the outcomes ‘what if it’s TB or cancer?’ his look betrayed nothing and I nervously fiddled with my mug’s handle. Steve still hadn’t torn his gaze from Bucky, but it became more irate by the second while Bucky seemed to sink into a pit of nerves. 

“One of you better tell me what’s going on before you give me a heart attack!” My eyes stung and I was holding back tears as I stared at my love, waiting for some sort of relief from the suspense. 

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I always knew what my answer would be. I just was scared to actually face it until I was walking through a shop the other day, and a song came on. I don’t know the name but I couldn’t shake one line. ‘Son, this is worth fighting for’ and I knew then that this was. You two are my family,” He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips,” I couldn’t imagine life away, but I also can’t imagine letting it change. You are worth everything to me, more than my own freedom or life. So, yesterday I went downtown. And I enlisted in the Army.” The tears slowly dripped down my cheeks and I could feel the ground falling away from my feet, leaving my toes to tight-rope on the last bit of reality they could find. Steve offered no comfort, and  Bucky felt a thousand yards away as I shrank into myself and slid back into my chair. 

‘How can he leave like this? Why this, why couldn’t he have been 4F? So many men haven’t come back, what if he doesn’t either. Why am I so upset, this is his decision? Every other woman in New York has given up their boys for this, why do I deserve anything more?’ I wrestled with my thoughts, trying to find words to say that would mean anything. 

“Y/N?” Bucky’s hand was rubbing my arm and I realised he had been calling my name.  My vision was blurry, and he looked like a spill of color through the droplets that coated my lashes. 

“I-” my throat was coated in a sheen that caused my words to choke on their exit. With a few deep breaths, I was able to dam the flow of tears and I cleared my throat. “When. When do you leave?” His gaze crumpled and I saw a hit of tears, but he just looked down at the table and then at Steve. 

“I ship out for basic in a week. I know this is hard, but this was my choice. I have to do this.” I nodded at his words, trying not to retort to his heroic words. I heard a chair slide against the floor and when I looked up I saw Steve standing above us. 

“I’ll see you later Buck. Thank you, Y/N.” Bucky moved back and started to stand but Steve held out his hand. “I need some time Pal.” With that, he walked out and Bucky and I were alone. 

James sat looking at me for a while, waiting for me to break the silence or to ask him to go. My mind was racing but I couldn’t say anything, only relive the past half hour. Neither of us spoke, or entertained the idea; instead, we contemplated the correct words, wondering if they could be found. 

Finally, he stood up, making a move to go, and I touched his forearm, pleading that he stay for a little longer. “Is America worth this to you? Worth the horrors and pain. Or- or your death?” I choked on my words and tears began to fall again. I could feel his mood change and he knelt down on level with me sitting. His sharp blue eyes were glassy and I felt myself getting lost in their depths. His face bore a grim smile as he leaned in and rested his head against mine. His breath was shaky, and I could see his lip lightly quivering. 

“No.” His raspy voice cracked. “You and Steve are.” He placed a kiss on my forehead and a single tear fell from his jaw and hit my cheek as he stood and continued to the door. 

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

George: I can fit the whole world in the palms of my hands

Joe: you know that’s impossible right

George: *cups Joe’s face in his hands*

Joe: *voice cracking* I have a reputation

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

Geborgenheit

Just some Steve fluff. I just want him to be happy, like,,, why is that too much to ask.

Warnings- None

Paring- Steve Rogers x reader

Y/N- your name 

Word Count- 618

 “Steve?” I walked up behind him and placed my hand on his shoulder. I gently rubbed circles into his back as he kept staring straight ahead. His eyes were darting back and forth the way they did when he was calculating risks of a mission or taking in plans. He was completely tense, every muscle in his torso and back was subconsciously clenched and my words were lost on deaf ears. The fire escape rail was sightly groaning under his grip and he wore the same blank expression on his face he got every time Peggy’s name or the Howling Commandos was mentioned. The loud noises of Brooklyn were echoing up to us from the streets down below as people walked around enjoying the rare nice weather. 

“Steve?” I gently asked again, leaning around to see the side of his face. Finally, he broke from his trance and looked me in the eyes. He gave a smile, but I could tell there was something bothering him. He unclenched the railing but still kept his back to me, taking in the city as if preparing for an enemy’s attack. 

“It looks almost the same.” He finally managed to whisper. “How can it almost look exactly the same almost 100  years later?” He asked to no one. 

I looked around at the exterior brick and glanced back inside at the one bedroom for sale. The wood floor was apparently the original and so were the wall colors. I could feel the history coursing through the small living space and I felt a twinge for Steve. 

“Darling, are you okay? We can leave.” I offered and halfway turned back towards the open window. 

“No. I’m fine!” He turned back to me and shook his head. “It’s just- it just dredges up a lot of memories. Some that I had completely forgotten.” I nodded, understanding how hard this must be for him.  “Like that alleyway right there is where I first met Buck. It was the first day of first grade and I started a fight I couldn’t finish.” He pointed to a catty-cornered alley a few buildings to the right. “And right there, used to be a grocery. It was my first job. I got fired for picking a fight with someone who I knew was a shoplifter.  Apparently, you can’t punch people without solid proof of a crime.” He and I both chuckled. 

“Here I thought maybe Bucky’s gripes about your younger years were over exaggerated. But it seems you were just as much of a handful back then as you are now.” He laughed and turned his back to the view. His eyes were sad for a time I would not understand and I held out my hand to provide comfort. He took it and gently brought it to his lips. 

“Thank you for coming here with me. I think it has helped.” All I could do was nod. 

“I wish he was here.”As soon as I said it I regretted it. Steve’s eyes turned glossy and he closed them. Just nodding. 

“So do I.” With another deep breath, he walked forward and tugged my arm through the window. He lead me all the way to the front door and was ready to open it, but I lightly pulled on his arm. 

“Are you sure you’re ready?” I looked around, knowing that this meant so much more than remembering his time era. This was partial, if not entirely, about saying goodbye to Bucky. He gave one last glance to his childhood and adulthood home and gave one resolute nod. 

“Yes. I finally got to say goodbye.” He whispered with a smile and walked out of the apartment. 

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

Lassitude

     Just some Jim Kirk fluff because I love him. I know the gif doesn’t really go, but it was the basis for the ‘before’ part of the imagine. As always, let me know if you like it! 

Word Count- 296

Warnings- none

Pairing- Jim Kirk x reader

    The quarter’s door opened and I heard mismatched stomps headed towards the bathroom. A light came on and I curled tightly into the comforter, hiding as much of myself from the white glow as I could. My eyes were still heavy and I was losing the battle to keep them open when the bed harshly dipped next to me.

     "Babe, you're gonna need to give me some of the blankets." Jim's tired voice rasped next to me. I lazily opened one eye and gave him a once over. His body was covered in little scratches and bruises, as well as dried blood he hadn't managed to scrape off. His blond hair was messier than usual and I noticed a piece of his yellow shirt was tucked away in the strands.

     "I take it the peace talks didn't go over well?" I mused as I unwrapped myself to let him under the bedding. Jim's eyes rolled and he settled under, immediately tangling himself with me. I began stroking his cheek and massaging his head. His eyes closed in content and he gave a small shake of his head in response.

     "Have you been evaluated by Dr. McCoy yet?" His head shook again. "You need to go tomorrow," I told him as I gently ran a finger over one of his bad cuts. He nodded, his breathing was getting deeper and soon light snores were filling the room.

     I laid there watching the rhythmic movement of his chest, completely captivated at how he looked so at ease for once. I rested my head back off the pillow and snuggled in closer to him. Instinctually he draped his arm over me and began snoring deeply. My eyes were once again heavy, and I followed suit; cozy in his arms.

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

Forever Yours

This is my first fanfic/ imagine, so I hope you guys like it! If you have any feedback feel free to lmk I’m always up for ways on how I can improve my writing. 

If you do like this feel free to request something or talk to me in general! 

Warnings- none, just angst and fluff 

Y/N= Your name

Style- A letter home 

Dear Y/N,

    I hope you are doing better now that your last letter suggests, and I hope you told your boss I would cause a scene when I get back if he ever pulled something like that again.

    We’ve only been in this war for a few months, but it has been enough bloodshed for a lifetime. Every time we attack an occupied town or dig in for the night, all I can think about is that I chose this, and how stupid of an idea that was. But I know that becoming a soldier was a duty I have to my country, myself and above all; to you and Steve.

    I miss home terribly. Well, I miss you terribly but it's the same thing I guess. You’ve been my home since we were 18. I hope you know that, and I hope you know I love you.

    I have been reading some of your letters out to the guys, it’s a custom we soldiers have. We say it’s so we have something on each other, y’know for when we need a favor, but it’s for the men who never receive little bits of home. We welcome them into ours briefly when we read aloud our letters. Everyone says you write the most beautiful letters, say you sound like Fitzgerald or Kipling. I always told you ya should be an author. There are some letters I keep just for me, the ones where you detail your current life, or where you recount the past. Those I keep close, and I get them out and reread them when I can. They always have a way of keeping me sane, even when bullets are flying.

     When this whole thing is over, we should come to visit Europe. You would love it here, Y/N. When I'm not griping, fighting I take in the beauty of the countrysides. When we take attack small villages or towns I imagine them restored and in their original condition. I imagine us walking through them, maybe living in them, like that old book you love, Farewell to Arms.

    I await your next letter eagerly. Tell Steve I miss him, and I’m forever in his debt that he is keeping you company while I’m away. I love you both, more than I could ever write. As always, I’m thinking of both of you during all of this, and I can not wait to return home.

    Forever yours,

    Bucky.

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

simon’s friends: why did you do it, simon?

simon: I was closeted and not ready to come out and martin was threatening to out me to the entire school if I didn’t help him slightly inconvenience you

simon’s friends: okay but wHY

simon:

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

The internet could change next week, and not in a good way

You may have heard about the efforts in Europe to reform copyright law. The debate has been ongoing in the European Parliament for months. If approved next week, these new regulations would require us to automatically filter and block content that you upload without meaningful consideration of your right to free expression. 

We respect the copyrights and trademarks of others, and we take all reports seriously to ensure that your creative expression is protected. We make this clear in our Community Guidelines. There’s already a legal framework that works and is fair: Today we take down posts and media that contain allegedly infringing content when we receive a valid DMCA (Digital Millennium Copyright Act) takedown request. We also provide clear-cut ways for people to fight back if they believe their removed content was not a true violation. These instances are monitored and reported and live in our biannual transparency report. 

The suggestion to use automated filters for issues of copyright is short-sighted at best and harmful at worst. Automated filters are unable to determine whether a use should be considered “fair use” under the law and are unable to determine whether a use is authorized by a license agreement. They are unable to distinguish legitimate parody, satire, or even your own personal pictures that could be matched with similar photographs that have been protected by someone else. We don’t believe that technology should replace human judgment. Tumblr is and always has been a place for creative expression, and these new regulations would only make it harder for you to express yourself with the freedom and clarity you do so now. 

If you access Tumblr from Europe and want to act, you can find more information on saveyourinternet.eu. 

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

Are fedoras really that bad?

YES YES THEY ARE

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

Love, Simon + Book Quotes

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

REBLOG IF YOU THINK BOYS CAN WEAR MAKEUP

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

My pure child

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

Dark times all around but there are still people out there who love you

Do not hurt yourself, do not hurt others, get help, talk to someone, anyone. Humanity has survived before and we can do it now if we all just support each other. My country and my people let me down and endangered my life but there’s nothing I or anyone else can do about that so let’s try to spread the love that is so clearly lacking.

[painted-kaleidoscopes]

In diversity there is beauty and there is strength. – Maya Angelou