#4b off

[4b-off-serene]

"Heya there, the name's 4B, and i'm Vesper's Morgue Director!~"

"My office is in the endless hallways but you'll find me ANYWHERE BUT!! I could be in area 1, or 2, hell, I COULD BE BEHIND YOU! …not like you wouldn't hear me coming."

"My main place of work is in area 3, vesper's ovens, my work entails pick up, inspection, and quality assurance of the VARIOUS corpses that appear in our Fortress of Happiness!"

"If y'all've uh, seen it, i've been looking for my cafeteria notes, they've misplaced for quite some time.. oops, y'know it really just seems like my brain only remembers what a spot looks like BEFORE i've placed an item of importance down haha… Object permanence am i right? Boy mine is bad."

"But hey! Feel free to ask me whatever! Tell me a song you like maybe… Or uh, you can talk to any of these guys of course, there will be a "masters post" soon. Haha, theres a lot of folks, oooh you wanna talk to them so bad before i tell you a "funfact"(usually morbid) :D"

"Thanks for listening to me here's a lollipop on your way out! :D" [4B hands you what appears to be melted and re-crystalized sugar. Upon closer smell, its a bit buttery]

[vadersaber]

and another thing: no woman is truly free until ALL women are free. Black women, Asian women, Sudanese women, Palestinian women, ALL OF THEM. This is way bigger than "just politics". This is real life, these are real lives at stake.

No woman is free until all women are free.

[blackpilljesus]

Dont get your hopes up with the uptick in interest of the 4B movement. Most of these women are just in shock and will eventually return to their nigels or nigel-hunting when the emotions settle down. I've seen countless women bragging about their fucking nigels whilst claiming to be part of 4B & other women encourage this. "My man voted Harris with me he's one of the good ones but yeah I'm part of the 4B now & my hubby supports the movement too 🥰". They're using this as a way to scare moids into behaving still underestimating the situation at hand here. Nothing has been learnt as nothing has ever been learnt over the course of thousands of years. Worry about yourself and serious women only lest you will be used. Dont let these women drag you into their bs we saw what happened with feminism.

PS I guarantee their fuckass nigels voted trump behind their backs.

[wewontbesleeping]

so weird to see women try to find loopholes for 4B instead of supporting the women who are interested in it or even just ignoring it. but what if i date THIS man?? like girl no one is forcing you to join. you can fuck/marry/kill all the men you want, no one cares. seriously. no one cares. it's your life, do what you want.

[barkbre]

"your body, my choice"

okay lets return that energy when i bite through your jugular buddy

[trickycactus]

ngl i think theres some overreaction towards the negative reception of 4b by young americans. that is the deeper end of feminist practice. a lot of women are still at the 'why isnt cheerleading considered a respected sport?' gateway level of thinking

[johnisonlysleeping]

genuinely don’t see myself dating anytime soon like dating apps or anything. I’d rather be alone forever or find someone through mutual friends/my general interactions in the world cause I’m way too hesitant to seek a relationship with a man (specifically a man). Like is it even worth it to be with a man?

domestic servitude, emotional labour, having to do your career alongside, having to decide what we eat every single day for the rest of our lives and then having to cook it, having to clean everything. Like it’s no fucking joke. seeing my mother exist in her relationship with my dad my whole life has made me cynical and hesitant. Genuinely the day I become a domestic servant for a man is the day I lose myself and I fear that as an eventuality.

[4b-off-serene]

cowboy beebo (p)

do ya like jazz? I sure do~!

Right 3..2.1 lets jam

[jojopolls]

Stand-Off, Round Four (Side B)

This is not a vote for which Stand you think would win in a fight, nor is it a vote for their user, it is solely for which Stand you like the most!

[yukimiyum]

the empty threats from liberals in this post-election social media hellscape is gonna drive me absolutely insane actually

[queenoftsage]

I knew about that movement[4B], but didn't give a fuck...

Then I saw your video and I was like... ah... The privilege is privileging... [person was claiming they didn't know about it, while living in SK]

Like, when privileged people speak from a privileged place, it's kind of mind numbing. In a lot of sentences you uttered, you basically invalidated a lot of people. I guess it's how you say, letting people live a life of a 'equality' is just a fantasy.

.... cute... But not cute at all.

Must be so nice to have grown up with a really loving father who showed you nothing be sweetness and such. I hope he was like that with everyone around him and not just you and your brother.

[and out of pure fear, those people he might have hurt 'will NEVER' speak on the fucked up shit your father did. I hope I'm very wrong about that.]

I tried to sit there and listen to your entire shpiel and got nothing but 'pick me' vibes from it because well... You yourself said you were a pick me while not saying you're a pick me. lol. You said you wanted to be a wife and not lose out on the 'marriage age bracket'.

Apparently you've never seen some people who meet each other way after the 'marriage age bracket' thing you kept speaking of. lol.

That's how I know, you invalidated a shit ton of people. Congratulations. *claps ironically*

I still don't agree with you. End of story.

I'm sure the people who follow the '4B movement' are just quiet about it in your country, because they know they'll get privileged people like you, invalidating their stance. It's kind of the same shit that happens with 'Feminism' over there.

I'm sure there are tons of people holding in all the shit they could say about the 'nicest' people ever, just because of pure fear.

Speaking up to bring down monsters is the scariest shit we as humans can try to do, but also the bravest.

[beloveds-embrace]

(Poly 141 x neighbour!reader: the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach! (Or in your case, the way to four men’s heart is through their stomach))

It started with cookies.

You’d been in the middle of baking a double batch- oatmeal chocolate chip, your personal favorite- and realized halfway through scooping them onto the tray that you’d made far too many for one person. It wasn’t unusual. Baking was how you coped with stress, and ever since you’d moved into this apartment building, stress had been in no short supply.

The guy in 4A had blared music all night. Your hot water barely lasted five minutes. And your smoke detector had developed a habit of chirping at odd hours.

But there was one bright spot- your neighbors in 4C.

You’d seen them coming and going. Tall, broad, and always carrying duffel bags that looked far too heavy to be legal. They kept odd hours, too, but never caused trouble. One of them- Johnny, you’d learned later- had even held the door open for you when your arms were full of groceries.

Which was why you’d stood outside their door that evening, balancing a plate of cookies and feeling like an idiot as you knocked.

Not-Johnny had answered first, blinking down at you in surprise, though his smile was warm and he was beautiful. You couldn’t blame him; you had barely spoken to them more than a few short words.

“Uh… hi?”

“Hi.” You forced a smile. “I’m your neighbor from 4B. I, uh… made too many cookies?”

His eyes dropped to the plate immediately, and you swore you saw something primal flicker behind them. Still, you worried.

“I mean, if you don’t want-”

“No! No, we want. Come in- Johnny! Get over here!”

And that was how it started.

The second time had been lasagna.

You’d just finished assembling it when you realized- again- that you’d made too much. So, after psyching yourself up for ten minutes, you’d knocked on their door for the second time in as many weeks.

Price, who had introduced himself along wuth Simon the day you dropped off the cookies, had answered that time, his expression guarded until he saw the foil-covered pan in your hands.

“You’re joking,” he’d said, but when you started to retreat, he’d stopped you with a firm, but gentle hand on your back. He had such a nice, big hand. “Don’t be ridiculous, lovie. Get in here.”

That night, you’d sat at their table, sharing stories and laughter while they cleaned the dish down to the last crumb.

After that, it became routine.

You started “testing recipes,” and they became your eager guinea pigs.

And they never seemed to mind.

And now…

The smell hit first- roasted garlic, browned butter, and something rich simmering low and slow. It snuck out from the slightly cracked kitchen window and spilled into the shared hallway of the apartment building. For men used to MREs and takeout, it was practically siren song.

Gaz was the first to notice, lingering just outside the door labeled 4B- your door- with an almost predatory focus. He wasn’t proud of it, but his stomach growled so loud that Soap- rounding the corner with a gym bag slung over his shoulder- laughed outright.

“You stalking the neighbor again?”

“Shut up. You smell that?”

Soap inhaled deeply. His eyes fluttered shut for a beat before snapping open.

“Jesus wept- what is that?!”

“I don’t know, but I’m this close to knocking.” Kyle held up his fingers, barely an inch apart.

“She already fed us last week, mate. Dinna push it.”

“But what if she’s testing another recipe?”

Gaz wasn’t wrong. You had a habit of showing up at their door with dishes too good to refuse.

They hadn’t stood a chance.

After the cookies and the lasagna, it wasn’t long before other dishes followed: casseroles, soups, pies, and even homemade bread. And the worst part? You bow always prefaced it by saying you needed an opinion- like they were doing you the favor.

It wasn’t until Price called you a “bloody saint” over a pan of enchiladas that Ghost finally put it together.

“You’re using us as taste testers,” he’d said flatly.

You’d grinned- too cute and too smug for your own good. “Is that a problem?”

Not a single one of them had said no, just as stated before.

Which led them here, hovering outside your door and pretending they weren’t waiting for another offering.

“… Fine.” Soap muttered, raising his hand to knock.

But the door swung open before he could, and there you were- apron on, hair pulled back, and flour dusted across your cheek.

“Hi!” You chirped, eyes bright. “Perfect timing!”

Gaz’s grin was pure relief. “Tell me you need opinions. Please, love.”

You laughed, stepping aside to let them in. “I always need opinions. Come in!”

Inside, the kitchen was chaos. Cutting boards and mixing bowls were scattered across the counters. A Dutch oven bubbled on the stove, releasing clouds of savory steam. Plates of food- half-assembled sandwiches, stuffed peppers, and what looked like chocolate tarts- sat waiting.

“I… might’ve gone overboard.” You admitted, and if you hadn’t spent all day in the kitchen, your cheeks would’ve gone warmer.

Soap whistled low, eyes raking over every dish. “Not complainin’.”

Price arrived just then, texted by Kyle, trailed closely by Simon, who took one look at the spread and froze. His eyes swept from the roasted chicken resting under a blanket of fresh herbs to the still-warm biscuits stacked beside a bowl of honey butter.

“What’s the occasion?” John asked, smile amused, but you just waved him off.

“Practicing.”

Gaz was already halfway to the table, trying to decide what to start with, but Simon lingered, watching you carefully. He had his balaclava on, though you haven’t yet dared to ask why he wears it.

“Practicing for what, exactly?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your apron. “There’s this… thing next week. A community bake-off. And I thought it might be fun to enter.”

Soap arched a brow. “You’re entering this in a bake-off?”

“Well, not all of it. I’m still deciding which dishes to use.”

“You’re winning.” Kyle said immediately, filling his plate.

“Definitely.” Johnny added, already reaching for a sandwich.

Simon, still lingering, crossed his arms and stared down at you. His height will never, ever not make your breath hitch. “You’re testing all of this on us?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, pouting just a little. “You don’t mind, do you, Simon?”

His gaze darkened- not in anger, but something softer, heavier. It made your stomach flip.

“No,” he said simply. “We don’t mind.”

You swallowed and turned quickly to the oven to hide the heat rushing to your cheeks.

The next hour passed in a blur of taste testing, arguments over which dish was best, and repeated assurances that you were going to “blow the competition out of the water.” But beneath the laughter and teasing, you failed to catch the way they looked at you- how Price lingered by the stove just to steal extra bites, or how Johnny kept offering to help, hovering close enough that you brushed elbows more than once.

And Simon? He was the worst of all. He didn’t say much, but his eyes tracked your every move, following the way your hands worked the dough or wiped flour off the counter. He was the last to leave, hanging back as the others helped clear plates.

“You’re serious about this bake-off?” he asked quietly.

You nodded. “Thought it might be fun.”

“You don’t need it.”

“… What?”

He gestured at the now-empty plates. “To prove anything, I mean. You’re already…” He trailed off for a few seconds, and though you were left blinking at him, you didn’t rush him. “Good enough.” he murmured at last.

The compliment hit harder than you expected, and for once, you didn’t have a clever response.

“Thank you, Simon. That… means a lot to me.” you said softly.

And just like that, the others reappeared, breaking the moment. Johnny patted Simon’s shoulder with a knowing smirk, and Kyle slung an arm around your shoulders, while Price merely watched. Your kitchen was now spotless, cleaned by them.

“When’s the next test run?” Gaz asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Well, let us know. We’re free anytime.”

“Yeah,” Soap added. “Anytime.”

You laughed but this time, you didn’t miss the way Price was looking at you- thoughtful, like he’d already made up his mind about something.

The door clicked shut behind them after that, leaving your apartment quieter but no less warm. The scent of roasted garlic and herbs still lingered, and you found yourself smiling as you surveyed the spotless kitchen. They’d made quick work of the mess, trading jokes and lighthearted jabs as they wiped down counters and stacked dishes in quite the uniform style.

You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve neighbors like them, but you weren’t about to question it.

You caught yourself humming as you tucked away the last plate, the sound of their laughter still echoing faintly in your ears. It was easy with them- comfortable in a way that felt rare and almost too good to be true.

And maybe it was.

Because what you didn’t know- what you would probably never know, such a sweet and trusting thing- was that your apartment had been wired within days of your first visit to their door.

To them, it had started with a conversation.

“She’s alone,” Price had said after the second time you’d brought them food, leaning back in his chair with a contemplative frown. “No sign of anyone else coming or going.”

“Security’s shite.” Gaz had added, gesturing vaguely toward the shared hallway where your lock barely functioned half the time.

Soap had shrugged, easygoing as ever, but his eyes had been sharp. “Better us keep an eye on her than let some arsehole get the chance.”

And that was that.

Price had ordered the equipment, Ghost had handled the installation, and none of them had lost sleep over it. Not when it meant keeping you safe.

It wasn’t just the cameras, either.

Simon had reinforced your locks under the guise of “fixing” them after you mentioned a struggle with your key. Johnny had talked you into letting him check your windows “just to be sure they latched properly.” Gaz had set up an app on your phone to “monitor deliveries,” though it also let them track your location if needed.

And Price? He always lingered at the door just long enough to ask if you needed anything else- subtle, but enough to make sure you knew they were there.

You never questioned it. Never noticed the way they moved like a unit around you, anticipating problems before they could arise. Never caught the glances they exchanged when you mentioned a repairman or the way Simon hovered near the window any time a car idled too long outside.

You just kept feeding them, trusting them in ways that only made their resolve deepen.

Price was the worst.

He’d leaned against the counter tonight, watching you laugh at Johnny’s jokes and swat at Kyle when he tried to sneak extra bites, and the thought had hit him harder than he expected, while Simon watched on in amusement and was the only to successfully swipe a few more bites.

They could’ve had this already.

If life had gone differently- if timing had been better- you could’ve been his. Theirs. Someone to come home to instead of just someone they visited between deployments.

He hadn’t said anything, of course. None of them had.

But as they left, he’d lingered in the doorway, letting his hand rest lightly against the frame.

“Don’t let ‘em eat it all before the bake-off,” he’d teased, lips curling into a smile. “They’ll start begging if you do.”

You’d laughed, and God, it was dangerous how much he liked the sound.

“I’ll make sure to keep them in line.”

His smile softened. “Good girl.”

You didn’t notice the way Simon shot him a sharp look at that- or the way Johnny and Kyle exchanged knowing grins.

And later, when Price sat down in front of the monitors to check the feeds, he didn’t let himself feel guilty.

Because you were safe.

And as far as they were concerned, that was all that mattered.

[theonion]

The South Korean radical feminist 4B movement, in which women swear off marriage, childbirth, dating men, and sex with men, has sparked intense conversations among Americans on social media. Here is what you need to know about 4B.

[jojopolls]

Stand-Off, Round Four (Side B)

This is not a vote for which Stand you think would win in a fight, nor is it a vote for their user, it is solely for which Stand you like the most!

[navybrat817]

Birthday Wish

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't want to make a big deal out of his birthday, but you want to make it special.

Word Count: Over 2.3k

Warnings: Mutual crush, confessions, humor, light angst, fluff, reference to Bucky's past, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Happy birthday to Bucky and this is my first submission for @avengers-assemble-bingo (Card 4B 020 - Square 2 - Birthday Boy). ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t care to celebrate his birthday. What was there worth celebrating? It was just another day like any other, another year that he got older. Even then, his looks didn’t match his current age. It was strange to look in the mirror and have the appearance of someone so much younger when he was born in 1917. He should’ve been old.

He should’ve left this world a long time ago.

While he was thankful for Steve and his other friends, he did feel a pang in his heart when he thought of his family. The last birthday he got to celebrate with his mom and sisters was before he got shipped off to war. Since then, there were no homemade cakes, no happy singing and jokes about him getting older, no candles to blow out and make a wish.

What would he even wish for today?

“Maybe we can all go out to dinner,” Steve suggested when he brought up Bucky’s birthday. “That could be fun, right?”

He felt bad shrugging in response since his best friend was trying to help him celebrate. “Maybe.”

“Dinner? Jesus, you two really are old men,” Tony commented, typing something into his phone. “Say the word and I’ll throw you a party. Best party you’ve ever had. You can thank me later.”

Bucky didn’t mean to give Tony a grumpy look, but parties were the billionaire’s thing. And while he didn’t mind having the spotlight on him as a younger man, it seemed foreign to him now. “My birthday is tomorrow, which gives you no time to plan a party, and I think I’m good.”

“I’m insulted that you would underestimate me and my connections,” Tony argued.

“No party,” Bucky said. He didn’t want one.

“What do you want to do then?” Sam asked.

Bucky’s brows pinched together. He didn’t really know. “My birthday isn’t a big deal, so I don’t want to make a big deal out of it,” he replied. Something low-key and not the least bit stressful would be nice. “I guess if I had to choose something, I’d like to read a new book and have a piece of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting.”

The guys stared at him, and he waited for Tony to laugh or make another “old man” comment. He didn’t care. It was his birthday they were asking about, so shouldn’t he get to choose what he wanted to do?

“I think that’s really sweet. And chocolate cake with chocolate frosting is delicious.”

Turning toward the soft voice, a smile touched Bucky’s lips and his heart fluttered when he saw you smiling back. The newest member of the team, you always had words of encouragement or a soft smile for him. As kind as you were, you could also kick ass and give Natasha a run for her money. To say he had a bit of a crush on you was an understatement.

“Thanks, doll,” he whispered.

You ducked your head with a giggle before you cleared your throat, making his smile widen. When he let his mind wander he liked to imagine you whimpering or sighing when he whispered that in your ear. If you only knew the things he thought about you, both naughty and nice.

“‘Doll’?” Tony groaned and shook his head. “Barnes, we really need to acclimate you to the modern world because no one with any sense calls anyone ‘doll’.”

His jaw clenched and color rose to his cheeks. Maybe it was a bit old-fashioned, but he liked it and he thought you liked it, too. But if it bothered you…

“You can call me ‘doll’, Bucky,” you assured him. “I don’t mind.”

Bucky could’ve used the opportunity to say something charming or sweet, but he kept the words in his head and gave you a grunt and a nod instead. A fucking grunt and a nod. What the hell was wrong with him? He might as well have given you a high-five and called you “buddy”.

“Okay,” you drew the word out slowly. “I’ll see you guys later!”

While Bucky watched you leave the room, the guys once again stared at him. “Not a fucking word,” he growled when Tony opened his mouth, heading out himself. He didn’t want their pity or their jokes.

With his exceptional hearing, he stopped when Tony muttered, “Tin Man better step up his game because that was painful to watch.”

“I’m old, not dead. I have game,” he mumbled. Well, he used to have game. Times were different now, and so was he. Still, his heart skipped a beat at the thought of you liking him, and maybe he could step up and take a chance.

“Be nice, Tony,” Steve sighed.

“I’ll be nice when he grows a pair and makes a move. Look, we all have eyes and we see how she looks at him.” Bucky felt butterflies in his stomach before Tony continued. “And she’s a stunning creature. Someone will snag her if he doesn’t.”

Bucky clenched his gloved fists. “Lay off the guy,” Sam said. “He’ll make a move when he’s ready.”

“Tomorrow,” Bucky whispered, walking away, determined. He would make a move tomorrow. It would either be the best birthday he could remember or he’d lick his wounds alone in his room and hope you’d still be his friend.

But as luck would have it, he didn’t get to talk to you the next morning.

He swore he saw you rush out of the kitchen with something in hand, but Steve stopped him to wish him a happy birthday. Everyone greeted him throughout the morning with various messages ranging from nice to references of his age. They all made it a point to say something, but he hadn’t seen you at all. Well, he hadn’t seen you or-

“Happy year of birth, Barnes!” Thor shouted. Bucky’s reflexes couldn’t stop the handful of confetti from hitting his face. “Let us celebrate, my friend!”

Bucky spit a piece of confetti out and tried to wipe away the remainder that landed on his face and shirt. “Thanks?”

The god of thunder looked him over. “Wasn’t your hair longer yesterday?” he asked, inhaling when Bucky ran a hand through it. “And are you wearing cologne? Is it for the party?”

“Maybe,” he said under his breath. He had trimmed his hair a bit and spritzed some cologne in the hopes of getting your attention if he bumped into you. It was stupid. “Party? What are you-”

He tensed up for a second when Thor threw an arm over his shoulders. “Stark said you didn’t want a party and I believe it’s meant to be a surprise, so don’t tell him I told you,” he said. Bucky almost snarled. He didn’t want a party. And how the hell did Tony put something together at the last second? “He also planned for it to be earlier in the day because he said you are old and wouldn’t want to stay up late. The man is-”

“Bucky!” you called out from down the hall, making him relax. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, doll,” he smiled, happy to finally see you.

“I like your haircut,” you said, gliding across the floor to where they stood and commanding the presence of anyone who looked your way. “It looks great.”

Bucky puffed his chest out, glad that you noticed and liked it. “Thanks, doll.”

“You got…” You smiled and wiped the remainder of confetti from his chest, his heart rate picking up. “Thor, I’m so sorry, but I have to steal Bucky away for a bit. You don’t mind, do you?”

Thor humbly bowed to you, your doe eyed expression getting the blonde to easily bend to your will. Bucky’s hands flexed and for a moment he felt jealous before he remembered Thor wasn’t romantically interested in you. “Not at all. I shall take my leave.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, linking your arm with Bucky’s and gently pulling him away. “Mmm. You smell good, too.”

Bucky hid a smile. “Thanks again,” he said, happy that he made the call to wear it. “Hey, Tony isn’t really throwing me a party, is he?”

You winced. “Yeah, he’s throwing something,” you confirmed. Bucky was going to have a chat with him later. “I tried to talk him out of it, but he didn’t listen to me.”

“I appreciate you trying,” he said, pulling you closer to his side. It meant a lot.

“Which is why I wanted to steal you away for a bit so you could have some peace and quiet.”

You guided him to the tower library which was one of his favorite areas. When he wasn’t training or hanging out in his room, he was usually there. “What is that?” he asked when he saw the CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE sign on the doors.

“Oh, I did that so no one would come in,” you winked, opening the doors so he could go inside. “Tada! Happy birthday!”

Bucky’s mouth fell open when he saw the small set up in the corner. There was a book with a bow sitting on the chair and a piece of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting with a single candle on the table beside it. “Did you… Did you do this for me?” he asked, his chest getting tight. It was exactly what he asked for.

“Yeah. You said you didn’t want to make a big deal out of your birthday, and I thought you deserved to have the kind of birthday you wanted. So, a slice of cake and a new book it is,” you smiled, a bounce in your step when you went to light the candle for him. “But I may have gotten you one more thing.”

“And what’s that?” he asked. You had already gone above and beyond for him. There was nothing you needed to get him.

“Tickets to the new science exhibit that’s opening this weekend.”

His chest felt tight again. He mentioned to you in passing that he wanted to go to the museum to see the new science exhibit. His love of science was something that hadn’t died, but hadn’t gotten around to buying tickets yet. You really paid attention to him and cared, didn’t you?

Your smile faltered just a bit when he kept staring. “I hope it’s okay that I did that. I really wanted you to have a nice birthday and you mean a lot to me and…” you trailed off as if you didn’t mean to say that.

God, he wanted you to mean it.

“It’s more than okay, thank you,” he swallowed, making his way over to you. “And did you say I mean a lot to you?” he asked because he had to hear you say it again.

You bit your lip and he wanted to bite your lip, too. “Yeah, you do.”

Hearing that was one of the best birthday gifts you could give him. “You mean a lot to me, too,” he confessed. You meant everything. “You’re amazing, do you know that?”

There was that giggle again that he loved. “Oh, I’m not, but thank you.”

“Yes, you are,” he whispered. You were the most amazing woman he knew. “I think that candle’s about to go out.”

The flame glowed in your eyes when you held up the plate and he felt lost in the best way. “Then you better make a wish.”

A charming smile crossed his face. “I can’t blow out my candle until someone sings ‘Happy Birthday’,” he teased.

Bucky expected you to protest when you opened your mouth. “Happy birthday to you.” He exhaled as you sang, your smoothe tone sending tingles down to his toes. “Happy birthday to you.”

Taking a step closer he placed a hand on your hip, your voice turning a bit breathy. It was beautiful. Everything about you was beautiful. He didn’t think he could fall any harder for you, but he was falling more and more each day.

“Happy birthday, dear Bucky…” You peered at him through your lashes. Looking back at you, he felt like he had something worth celebrating. “Happy birthday to you.”

With a gentle breath he blew the candle out and took the plate from your hands with ease. He heard both of your hearts beating faster, and he saw hope in your eyes. He gazed back at you, silently asking for permission. He wanted to kiss you, wanted you to be his girl.

Bucky wanted his birthday wish to come true.

“Doll…” he breathed.

It wasn’t until you nodded that he closed the distance and pressed his lips to yours. He took his time, savoring the feel of your mouths together. It was perfect, a moment he’d never forget.

“Wow,” you whispered when he pulled away. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah?” he smiled.

“Yeah,” you smiled back. “And I’m thankful it was a kiss you gave me instead of a grunt and a nod.”

Bucky laughed. “I can still give you a grunt and a nod,” he teased, touching your warm cheek. “And you know, since it’s my birthday and you said I should celebrate how I want, I think it’s only fair that I get 108 kisses.”

“Sergeant Barnes, are you really asking me for 108 kisses?”

“To start,” he smirked. “And it’s a good excuse to skip the party,” he added, going back in for another when you giggled.

He’d ask you after to stay with him while he read and shared the piece of cake. You’d tell him that you made it from scratch and hurried out of the kitchen so the gang wouldn’t eat it. He’d explain that he cut his hair and put on cologne for you in the hopes of attracting your attention which you told him he already had. And before the night was over, he’d ask you to go to the exhibit with him and to be his girl.

A birthday wish come true.

Have I told you lovelies how much I appreciate you? Because I do. Happy birthday, Bucky Barnes! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[colebabey888]

Cultivating Your Signature It Girl Aesthetic | THE IT GIRL DIARIES

Fashion and style are critical components of the ideal It Girl. However, style is not about following every trend, you are the inspiration, the trendsetter, the It Girl style is about creating a look that is uniquely yours, an appearance that no one else can replicate but instead only have deep admiration for it. It’s about creating a personal brand that feels true to who you are and owning it.

How to discover and curate your signature look?

Know Your Aesthetic

Identify your fashion preferences. Are you drawn to classy elegance, barbie doll pink, edgy streetwear, coquette or bohemian chic? Curate a wardrobe that reflects this aesthetic consistently. Identifying your aesthetic does not mean limiting yourself to only that, else you're just another follower taking inspiration from the trendsetter. Take your aesthetic and make it your own, add your touch of personality and characteristic to it, give it a bit of you.

Invest in Staples

Build your wardrobe around staple pieces that can be mixed and matched. Classic items like plain white or black tees, versatile denim, fitted slacks, clothing that can never go out of style because it can always be made into something more.

Embrace Your Natural Features

Celebrate what makes you you. If you have big lips or eyes, find ways to accentuate them! Instead of conforming to trends that don't serve your look, embrace and elevate your features. For instance, laminating your brows for a neat, polished appearance instead of shaving them all off and redrawing them on like.. Discover beauty techniques that enhance your natural beauty rather than masking it.

Maintain a Signature Hair Routine

Your hair is one of your defining traits! Whether you have silky straight hair or kinky 4b curls, a consistent haircare routine helps you feel polished and put together. Invest in treatments that align with your hair type and goals—like deep conditioning and hot oil treatments for moisture and strength. If you love to wear your hair sleek, using heat protectants and frizz control products will help maintain your signature look while preventing damage.

Curate a Low-Maintenance Glam Look

You don’t have to spend hours on makeup to feel fabulous. Find key beauty steps that give you lasting results, like applying a lip tint every third day to keep your lips subtly flushed without constant reapplication. Design a makeup routine that emphasizes your key features. A weekly face mask tailored to your skin’s needs helps keep your complexion glowing. Embrace easy, effective beauty hacks that fit seamlessly into your routine.

Focus on Clean, Minimal Elegance

True elegance comes from appearance and how you carry yourself. Paying attention to skin, hair, and environmental cleanliness, moving with grace and poise. Keeping things simple yet chic, whether it’s maintaining a daily skincare routine or practicing oil pulling—ensure you’re always putting your best self forward. The key is consistency and subtlety, qualities that define It Girl charm.

Stick to What Works

The It Girl aesthetic isn’t about following every trend—it’s about finding what works for you and sticking with it. Your style and beauty choices should reflect what feels comfortable and sustainable for you.

Your personal style should reflect who you are on the inside and help you radiate confidence. Discover what feels authentic, and from there, curate a signature It Girl aesthetic that highlights your best self.

mwah! xoxo, colebabey8.88

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