#.......................yikes..................

[radheadphones]

… this is… fundamentally … wrong??? I don’t know how much wrong this can be. Like they had to have paper work and documentation? There were acts trying to make sure people didn’t immigrate??? Like woah there buddy let’s relearn about American Immigration from the 1880s-1930’s thanks…

[bonafideaquemin]

quick tribble kirk sticker idea………

[king-wens-king]

Personal opinion but I reckon that Lumon made the new supervisor Ms Huang - who is a child - to prevent assault against a supervisor. Like when Dylan bu Milchick. Because no sane person would hurt a child, why not use an actual one as a human shield to prevent *further* potential grievances.

[felinefractious]

Gaïa’s Garden T-Bag [Pedigree]

🐱 Ragdoll

📸 Gaïa’s Garden

🎨 Flame Point Bicolor

[kasieli]

You know what they say: a spicy sketch a day keeps the doctor away 😉

[deliciousangelfestival]

Change of Heart - 1 | Bucky

Character: Bucky x Female! Reader

Theme: Angst, tragedy, romance.

Summary: The interviewer asked her a provocative question:

“If you were offered a million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Without hesitation, she replied with a smirk, “Give me one dollar, and I’ll leave him this second.”

True to her word, she walked away, leaving the man stunned and searching for answers. Now, he’s desperately trying to find her, grappling with the haunting question—why would she leave him so easily?

And is there more to her departure than a single dollar could ever explain?

Part 1 , Part 2 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Time changes everything. Interviews used to take place indoors, in studios, or in booked hotel rooms. The questions were serious—focused on economics, politics, or other weighty topics. Back then, only experts or public figures were deemed worthy of being interviewed.

But now, thanks to social media, interviews can happen anywhere. They’re no longer the domain of reporters or TV stations. Instead, anyone with a phone, a camera, and a microphone can conduct an impromptu interview in random places.

These spontaneous interviews often gain far more attention than their polished, scripted counterparts on TV. On the streets, people are asked silly, lighthearted questions, and their candid, often hilarious answers resonate more with viewers. They feel authentic and relatable, unlike the carefully curated responses of experts.

Some people never imagine their offhand comments will make them go viral. Take the girl who became famous overnight for her absurd response to a random question—she jokingly told someone to spit. It was ridiculous, but human nature is unpredictable. The absurdity drew millions of viewers, and just like that, she became an internet sensation.

Today, another viral moment is taking over the internet. The current trend? A simple, loaded question:

“If you were offered 1 million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Many people, interviewed alongside their partners, responded with sweet or heartfelt answers. But one woman gave a response that stopped everyone in their tracks:

“Give me 1 dollar. I’ll leave him this second.”

And the interviewer handed her the one dollar.

Her comment sparked chaos online. Most people laughed, seeing it as a joke and sharing it for its sheer absurdity:

“LMAO, this girl is my spirit animal!”

“She’s not wrong, though. 😂 Relationships are overrated!”

“The audacity! 😂😂😂”

However, not everyone found it funny:

“This is what’s wrong with society—no loyalty anymore.”

“Imagine being her partner and seeing this. Yikes.”

“If this is how people think these days, I’ll stay single forever.”

But there was one man who didn’t find it amusing at all.

He replayed the video, his expression unreadable, though the tension in his jaw betrayed his anger. The room was silent except for the faint hum of his phone’s speaker. His piercing gaze flicked to the woman sitting across from him as the video looped again.

Bucky Barnes hadn’t paid attention to what was happening online. As the CEO of the Lena Group, a leader in car and chip manufacturing, his schedule left little time for distractions. It wasn’t until his secretary and his mother mentioned the viral uproar that he decided to investigate.

Watching the clip now, he felt a surge of disbelief. Shock. Anger. He had worked tirelessly to build his empire, and yet here she was, casually dismissing him with a joke to a stranger.

“So,” he said, his voice cold as he set the phone down on the table, “you think I’m worth one dollar?”

She didn’t flinch under his icy glare. Instead, she calmly lifted her teacup, taking a slow sip before setting it back down. Her movements were measured, deliberate, as if his words carried no weight.

Meeting his gaze, she tilted her head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Now that I think about it,” she said, her tone casual, “70% discount sounds fair.”

His grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, leaning forward, his voice sharper now.

Her expression didn’t waver. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m tired, Bucky. I’ve had enough.”

The room felt heavier, the unspoken words between them thickening the air.

His jaw clenched as he let out a heavy sigh. “You’ve got to be joking.”

His eyes searched your face for any hint of humor, anything to suggest you didn’t mean it. But there was none. Only calm resolve.

He looked at you—the woman he had married two years ago. The truth was, this wasn’t an ordinary marriage. It was what people called a contract marriage. But to Bucky, it was just business. Marriages forged to benefit two businesses had existed for ages, after all.

The so-called marriage contract was simply a guideline—a formal agreement to ensure both parties understood the terms, what was acceptable and what wasn’t. Many people chose contract durations of three or six years before going their separate ways. But Bucky had kept it simpler: a one-year contract, renewable if his wife agreed.

The reason he opted for this arrangement was to avoid the casualties of love. He’d seen it firsthand—his parents, who had started with love, had eventually torn each other apart, not literally, but close enough to leave scars on everyone involved. It was enough to make Bucky swear off traditional marriage altogether.

But his grandfather had other plans. “If you don’t marry, you’ll never inherit the company,” his grandfather had declared, determined to ensure his legacy stayed within the family. Having watched his son—a serial adulterer—destroy the family’s reputation, the old man had become obsessed with the idea of keeping his grandson grounded.

Bucky, however, had no interest in marriage. He had no desire for emotional entanglements or the drama that came with them. Yet his grandfather’s ultimatum left him with no choice. If he wanted to lead the company, he had to marry.

That was when he turned to a matchmaker agency, one well-known among his wealthy peers. It wasn’t cheap, but the agency had stellar testimonials, and they assured him they could find the perfect partner.

And they did.

That’s where he met you. You, too, were looking for something unconventional. You weren’t interested in traditional marriage and came from a good family background, which made introducing you to his parents remarkably easy. Despite his parents’ separation, you navigated the introductions with grace, impressing his mother and, surprisingly, his father.

The wedding happened quickly. You were the ideal partner—easygoing, understanding, and undemanding. When the first year of the contract ended, Bucky asked if you wanted to continue. You had simply smiled and said, “Yes.”

To him, that was enough.

Two years had passed since then, and he thought everything was fine. You never complained, never asked for anything more than the life you had agreed upon. He thought you were content. He thought you were okay.

But now, standing before you on the last day of the contract, he couldn’t reconcile the image he had of your quiet satisfaction with your answer in that viral video.

He stared at you, confused and hurt. “Why did you say it?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Why give that answer? I thought everything was fine.”

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you glanced at your watch, casually checking the time. “I’m not,” you said, your voice calm, almost detached. “At 12 a.m., our marriage contract will be over. By tomorrow morning, I won’t be here.”

His mouth opened as if to protest, but no words came out. He reached for the black tea you had placed in front of him earlier, taking a sip. It had gone lukewarm—neither hot nor cold, a temperature he despised. It mirrored the hollow, uncomfortable feeling gnawing at his chest.

Finally, he set the cup down with a dull clink. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said, his voice firmer now, though tinged with weariness.

You said nothing in return, merely turned and walked away.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next morning, when he woke up, sunlight was already streaming through the curtains. His eyes flicked to the clock on his nightstand—10 a.m. He sat up abruptly, his head spinning slightly from the sudden movement.

He rarely ever slept this late. For years, he had trained himself to wake by 5 a.m., no matter how little sleep he’d had the night before. Even on his most exhausting days, he never overslept. At most, he might sleep in until 6 or 7 a.m., but 10? Never.

Rubbing his temples, he tried to piece it together. What had made him sleep like this? He thought back to the night before, to your calm words, to the tea…

His hands froze mid-motion. The tea.

A surge of realization hit him. You drugged him.

He swung his legs out of bed, his movements sharp and full of urgency. Throwing on a robe, he stormed out of the bedroom, his voice cutting through the quiet house. “Where is she?”

The housemaid appeared, her expression hesitant and unsure. “She left, sir. Early this morning.”

His jaw tightened as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “And she didn’t say anything? Not a word?”

The maid paused, then held out a small item. “She left this, sir.”

He grabbed the velvet box from her hand, his chest tightening as he opened it. His breath caught at the sight of your wedding ring nestled inside.

For two years, he had worn his own wedding ring daily, thinking of it as nothing more than a piece of jewelry. But now, staring at your ring, it felt heavier than it should, as though it carried the weight of your departure.

Inside the ring box, you left the same crumpled dollar bill. It sat there like a cruel punchline, mocking everything he thought both of you had built together—a final, silent reminder of just how little she thought he was worth.

He set the box down on the table, his eyes scanning the room. When they landed on the wardrobe, he froze. It was still full. You hadn’t taken a single thing.

His mind raced. Where could you have gone? How did you vanish so quickly?

He reached for his phone, dialing his security team with shaky fingers. After two rings, someone picked up.

“Where is she?” he barked, his voice tight with frustration, the tension unmistakable.

The security officer on the other end hesitated. “Mrs. told us… madam wanted to meet her.”

His brows furrowed. “My mother?”

“Yes, sir. She’s in another state.”

That meant only one thing. You had gone to the airport.

“Did she take the private jet or a commercial plane?” he demanded.

“Commercial, sir. It was a last-minute trip, and we hadn’t prepared the jet.”

Bucky’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles whitening. His jaw clenched as frustration surged within him. He wanted to scream, to lash out at the sheer incompetence of his team. You fucking idiot. The words pounded in his mind, but he bit them back, forcing himself to stay composed.

“Who bought the ticket?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“It was Mrs. who purchased the ticket herself.”

Bucky exhaled sharply through his nose, his patience wearing thin. He wanted nothing more than to explode, but he kept his voice steady. “Find out where she went.” Without waiting for a response, he ended the call.

Immediately, he dialed his mother. The line connected after a single ring.

“Hello.”

“I’m glad you called,” she said briskly. “Do you know what’s going on right now?”

His grip on the phone tightened. “Did you ask her to meet you?”

“Me? No, I—”

He ended the call before she could finish. That ruled out her involvement.

His mind raced as he considered the possibilities. If you had boarded a plane, he could easily track your destination. But the other option loomed: that the airport was a decoy. You had used his mother’s name as an excuse, ensuring your movements would go undetected by his security team, who clearly hadn’t been following you as closely as they did him.

Bucky’s phone buzzed. The confirmation from his team came through, and the news made his blood boil.

“Mrs. bought a plane ticket but didn’t get on the plane,” the head of security reported.

“Did you check the surveillance cameras?” he snapped.

“Yes, sir. We’ve reviewed the footage. There’s a woman with a similar appearance to madam who rented a car at the airport.”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration mounting. He sucked in a breath, exhaling slowly to keep his temper in check. So, it’s option two. You’re still in the same state.

“Great,” he muttered under his breath, pacing the room. He could feel the tension radiating through his body. “At least you didn’t go far.”

Without wasting another second, he barked into the phone, “Chase the car. Check every schedule she might have left behind, and contact her friends. I want updates—fast.”

Ending the call, he threw the phone onto his desk with a sharp clatter. Running a hand through his hair, he leaned against the desk, staring out the window as the weight of the situation pressed down on him. For someone who always had the upper hand, this was new territory. And he hated it.

Bucky sat in his office chair, staring at the empty ring box on his desk. His mind swirled with unanswered questions. Why had you suddenly left without a word? Both of you had been such a good team—practical, efficient, and untroubled by the complications that plagued most marriages. At least, that’s what he thought.

If he could, he would turn back time and relive the past few months, examining every moment you’d spent together. Had he missed something? Made a mistake? Or had something happened that he was completely unaware of? The uncertainty gnawed at him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years.

His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“We found her. But…”

“What?!” he barked, standing abruptly.

“It’s not Mrs.,” the security team clarified hesitantly.

A chill ran down his spine. “Then who is it?”

“It’s her friend, sir.”

His stomach tightened, and for the first time in years, Bucky felt a flicker of fear. He thought he was closing in, that you were still within his reach. But now, you were out of his watch, slipping further away with every passing second.

“Secure her. I’m going to meet her,” he ordered, his voice cold and sharp.

“Yes, sir.”

"Prepare the car," Bucky ordered, his voice cold and demanding.

"But, sir, you have a meeting at 2 p.m", his assistant replied, hesitant.

Bucky shot him a sharp glare, his jaw tightening.

The assistant quicklu nodded. "I'll reschedule it, sir," he muttered avoiding Bucky's piercing gaze.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Minutes later, Bucky arrived at a quiet café where Grace was waiting under the watchful eye of his security team. The moment he saw her, he recognized her immediately—your friend, the one who had attended your wedding. Grace was the only person you had trusted with the details of this marriage contract.

Bucky approached the table, his expression unreadable, but his clenched fists betrayed the storm brewing inside him.

“Where is she?” His voice was steady, but there was an edge of desperation he couldn’t fully mask.

Grace avoided his gaze, staring down at the steaming cup of coffee in front of her.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I could raise my voice at you, but I won’t. Grace, please. Tell me where she is.”

Grace finally looked up, her expression guarded. “As far as I know, last night was the last day of your marriage. Today, she’s a free woman.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, Bucky’s mask slipped. He stared at her, bewildered, the weight of everything sinking in. What had he done to make you leave? Had he overlooked something so significant? And why did Grace seem to despise him so much?

Before he could respond, his phone buzzed again. He stepped aside to take the call, his jaw tightening as he listened.

“Sir, we’ve reviewed additional footage. Mrs. used Grace’s ID to purchase another ticket. She’s already on the plane.”

Bucky’s grip on the phone tightened. His gaze snapped back to Grace, who was now watching him warily.

“Grace,” he began, his voice sharper this time. “I’m asking you again. Where is she?”

Grace shook her head, her tone calm but firm. “I don’t know.”

His frustration boiled over. He leaned forward, his palms flat on the table as he stared her down. “Don’t lie to me, Grace.”

She didn’t flinch. “I’m not lying. You don’t know anything about her.”

Her words struck a nerve, leaving him momentarily speechless. He straightened, trying to collect himself, but his mind was racing. Don’t know anything about her? He hated the implication.

“She trusted you,” he said, his voice low. “You were the only one who knew about the arrangement, the only one she confided in.”

“And that’s why I won’t betray her trust now,” Grace replied evenly.

Author Note: Do you found this interesting? Would you like it to be continued?

[treefish]

[vrepit-salt]

[doctorsiren]

Day 20 of Sirentober / Doctober

Hands / Journal

You can tell who never made a deal

Available as a print on my Etsy Shop

[housederiva]

When Veilguard comes out, please keep it in the back of your mind every single time you interact with Varric and Lucanis that their writer got laid off with little to no warning and that she is and always will be a Dragon Age legend and one of the reasons why the franchise has stayed afloat for as long as it has

[thournewrites]

My grandmother called me to say she felt bad for me and could see how I was disappointed with my life and how strong I am lol

[kermitspussy]

like where did it come from i was literally doing a silly little art and craft

[frownyalfred]

“when Dick Grayson becomes a detective in Blüdhaven, it takes time to adjust to not being able to break the laws to get evidence or confessions” versus the far superior “when Dick Grayson becomes a detective in Blüdhaven, it takes time to adjust to the fact that all of his coworkers are horribly incompetent when it comes to obtaining and preserving evidence and it turns out all of Bruce’s anal retentiveness about crime scenes, chain of custody for evidence, and contamination was actually for a very good reason and puts Batman 10-20 years ahead of any modern police department”

[elfgrove]

New Things to Beware on the Internet

On May 3rd, Google released 8 new top-level domains (TLDs) -- these are new values like .com, .org, .biz, domain names. These new TLDs were made available for public registration via any domain registrar on May 10th.

Usually, this should be a cool info, move on with your life and largely ignore it moment.

Except a couple of these new domain names are common file type extensions: ".zip" and ".mov".

This means typing out a file name could resolve into a link that takes you to one of these new URLs, whether it's in an email, on your tumblr blog post, a tweet, or in file explorer on your desktop.

What was previously plain text could now resolve as link and go to a malicious website where people are expecting to go to a file and therefore download malware without realizing it.

Folk monitoring these new domain registrations are already seeing some clearly malicious actors registering and setting this up. Some are squatting the domain names trying to point out what a bad idea this was. Some already trying to steal your login in credentials and personal info.

This is what we're seeing only 12 days into the domains being available. Only 5 days being publicly available.

What can you do? For now, be very careful where you type in .zip or .mov, watch what website URLs you're on, don't enable automatic downloads, be very careful when visiting any site on these new domains, and do not type in file names without spaces or other interrupters.

I'm seeing security officers for companies talking about wholesale blocking .zip and .mov domains from within the company's internet, and that's probably wise.

Be cautious out there.

[utilitycaster]

"why should I get invested in shows if they'll just get canceled" I was deeply invested in Heroes (2006) and it was not canceled, it just got really terrible. I also got really invested in the sandwich I had a few weeks ago despite it only lasting like 15 minutes. You must embrace the ephemeral. You must be willing to love things that may not love you back, that might betray you, or that may die an untimely death. As the great philosopher Mr. Mitchell Lee Hedberg said "I'm not gonna stop doing something because of what happens at the end."