#I'm a tech wizard!!

[thisdudedoesntexist]

Danny is a new technician at a rebuilt star labs. He didn't want to at first because Danny thought it would cut into his undead superhero/prince duties. Eventually though Clockwork (bullied) encouraged him and as it turns out, the lab is pretty lax about sudden "trouble at home". Plus, Danny can help set things back together when one of the Flashes messes up the timeline AGAIN.

(Flashpoint is what allowed Dan to come back as quickly as he did in the first place.)

The flash family, for lack of a better description, are straining. They're all putting up painted smiles that Danny knows aren't happening with his coworkers. Danny wants to be friendly with them but they're keeping him at a constant arms length away.

Barry, wally, Bart, and the rest of the flash family are freaking OUT. Why wouldn't they, their new technician caused the apocalypse. Granted they only know this because of an old speed scout from Bart. But it didn't have the time to tell them anymore than the name and some powers of one Dan phantom before fading. The timeline line the one man disaster's from doesn't exist anymore so they can't even check what happened or why the Dan destroyed everything. They can't even get rid of him because what if that sets off the guy!

[fatedroses]

Baby Zenos being curious of everything means Atticus can't skip out on tuning anymore and Solus gets extra hands for some of his tools.

[toa-archive]

Hello! I'm here to pose a question that's been bothering me to the archive master. My sister and I discovered recently that if you pause "Killahead Part 1" during the scene where Callista is chosen as the first Trollhunter, you can see Claire holding the shadowstaff!! (If I had screenshots, I would totally throw them in!) It's just in a few background shots where she's not the focus, but my mind was a little blown because storywise, it doesn't even make sense. Has there been any mention of a cut storyline or any reason for her to have the shadowstaff with her other than just a rendering mishap? Just curious.

P.S. thank you for keeping this archive going!! It always makes me extra happy to see that this fandom isn't dead yet.

... Huh.

Huh.

Just going back a bit to see from the other side (Hi Burly!)

Yeah she's holding a stick and from this angle it looks like something else entirely....

But rewinding a bit further YEAH NO DOUBT WHATSOEVER IT'S THE SKARTHE HRUN

Girl where did you get that. She's not holding it at the guard either but that's a minor point.

Given Camelot!Zoe survived in the final in any form I'm willing to bet you're right and that's something that was cut with traces surviving into the final shot. You don't accidentally give a character a prop that they're actively moving, it'd be a waste of resources. Other than that I got nothing! At no point in any of the Wizards tidbits we've had over the years has Claire having the stick again ever come up. Now I'm curious what's going on.

[essektheylyss]

Brennan describes the inside (for lack of a better word) of the Occulus Thalamus as "a swirling nebula of glimmering potential, cresting eternally beyond the threshold of being," before turning instead to describe, for ease of mortal imagination, a physical palace.

I am curious to know if this, like other aspects of Aeorian technology that we've seen, is some kind of dunamantic distillation; if the "infinity" that is described, this monumental repository of data, is in fact an innovation created from Aeor's technological explorations of a beacon and dunamis itself. It would certainly negate any of my idle considerations of how you'd even store that much data, given the space(s) inside the beacons are suggested to be fairly infinite.

It would also track as a method of collection, given the other uses of the beacons in Exandria as a method of holding a soul and then returning it to another vessel, as well as its use for observation and learning; the Dynasty uses consecution for gaining perspective and learning about the world, and the Aevilux apparently use their own rituals as a method of external observation of themselves for learning who they are. Both of these have their downsides, of course, but overall they seem to be employed for thoughtful introspection.

If the Occulus Thalamus was based on the same concept and arcane background, it certainly showcases the dark side of the impulse to observe and learn and record, in excess and without consent. The same drive to learn about the world, to understand those outside of oneself, to connect with the world, used instead for all-encompassing surveillance and control.

[aethersea]

normally I don't bother questioning when a high fantasy is all "ooh the prophesied one will break the world or save it" bc that's what high fantasy is for. don't worry about it, focus on the journey, we'll get to the prophecy when we get to it. but this show has got me wondering what that even means.

the innkeeper who served the Dark said that the Dragon could break the Wheel so that there would be no more suffering, no war or famine or poverty. and the Wheel, we have been told many times, is the Wheel of reincarnation and of fate. It's the metaphor for how all of history has a cyclical bent to it, and it's a real religious belief that souls return to the world many times to live many lives.

how do you break that Wheel such that there is no more suffering? you can't bring about a perfect utopia by breaking such a Wheel. the two concepts just aren't connected at all. the only way I can see is to just......end everything. to live is to suffer, right? there's no suffering if everyone is dead.

kind of a defeatist cause to pledge yourself to, really.

[t-leaves]

When it comes to shifting to Hogwarts and the wizarding world, one of the main appeals for me personally is the prospect of a world with 21st century tech removed. I struggle a lot with my attention span and the addictive nature of social media and the expectation of instant communication that comes from things like texting stress me out. I want to live in a world of delayed gratification to see how my brain copes and to maybe model these behaviours for myself in order to replicate them in this reality.

Which makes me curious about how other people are approaching technology in their Hogwarts reality. Are you guys excited to wait for your owl to return a letter from your family or are you envisioning a group chat for scheduling who is feeding the flobberworm for today's CMC class?

Note: This is specifically about technology in Hogwarts, not what technology exists in the era your shifting to if that makes sense? Please let me know in the tags though what year you are shifting to and what you voted <3

[n0nbinaryghoul]

it's toney casey tuesday! (^: here's the boy the tech wizard

[soshinysochrome]

Fuckin technology.

Worked with computers for over a decade with the military, spent months agonizing over why my PC and monitor weren't communicating, finally sucked it up and took it to Geek Squad...

Apparently, in an effort to make me look like a clown, my PC grew a 2nd HDMI port, which *did* communicate with the monitor.

I've had this fuckin PC for several years and never had any idea another port was there.

[lectorel]

Me, the It Support Staff: Videos cannot be sent over text in Zoom's system - the system isn't capable of supporting that, only still images. That feature may become available in the future, but for now, you'll need to access the video via link, email message, or file sharing. My user, who I had to explain the concept of a 'network' to a few months back: Nope, I need you to call me and make it work. 😊

[felikatze]

i have officially called in tech support (texted riu on discord because the internet is scary)

[yther]

I really miss Reliable Information Brick.

Gröög wants the right one. Grølg is indecisive...

(Something in the genus Smartus, possible subspecies of Bingus, distinguished by a Larger-than-Face carapace but wide enough to be confused with ancient megatech like the iconic I.BIG.MACHINE)

[horrid-mothlegs]

Cannibalising my brother's old toy cars for screws to install my new t480 battery

[drewswife]

summary — spencer left his lunch at home and u bring it to the bau and meet the team (not really..)

pairings — s2!spencer x gf!reader

warnings — fluff, teasing from morgan and gracia,

You sigh, looking at the neatly packed lunch sitting on the kitchen counter. Spencer, bless his brilliant but sometimes absentminded heart, had done it again. He’d rushed out the door for a BAU case, leaving his carefully prepared meal behind.

"Looks like someone's going to be very hungry later," you mumble to yourself, grabbing the lunch bag. You know how focused he gets when he’s on a case, and a growling stomach is the last thing he needs.

A quick drive later, you're navigating the familiar halls of the FBI headquarters. You push open the door to the BAU bullpen, and sure enough, the team is huddled around a whiteboard, a flurry of papers and profiles spread out.

"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Morgan's voice booms, a smirk already forming on his face as he spots you. "Bringing Dr. Reid his daily sustenance, I see."

Gracia, ever the tech wizard, spins in her chair, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, is it lunch delivery time for our boy wonder? Did he forget his blankie too?"

You roll your eyes, but a smile plays on your lips. "He forgot his lunch, you two goons. And he's going to be starving if he doesn't eat." You walk over to Spencer, who is deeply engrossed in a file, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Spencer," you say softly, placing the lunch bag on his desk.

He jumps slightly, looking up with wide, slightly unfocused eyes. "Oh! hi! What are you doing here?" Then his gaze falls on the bag. His face lights up, a genuinely delighted smile spreading across it. "My lunch! Oh, thank you, I completely forgot it. I was so wrapped up in…" He trails off, gesturing vaguely at the case files.

"I figured," you say, reaching over to gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "Eat something, okay? You're going to burn yourself out."

He nods, already reaching for the bag. Morgan whistles from across the room. "Look at that, Reid. Getting special treatment. Some of us have to buy our own food."

"Don't worry, Morgan," Gracia pipes in, "I'm sure if you were as cute and helpless as Reid, someone would bring you lunch too."

Spencer flushes a little, but he's already unwrapping his sandwich, a contented hum escaping him. You just shake your head, a warmth spreading through you. Fluff, indeed. But you wouldn't have it any other way. Watching him eat, you know this small act of bringing him his lunch means more to him than any grand gesture. And that's all you need.

You watch Spencer take a bite of his sandwich, a small, pleased sigh escaping him. Morgan and Gracia's teasing continues good-naturedly in the background.

"I should probably get going," you say, starting to turn.

Spencer looks up looking like a kicked puppy, a bit of food still in his cheek. "Already? Thanks again for this, angel. You really saved me."

You smile. "Anytime, Spencer. Just try to remember your head next time." You lean in, quick and light, and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

He freezes for a split second, a faint blush rising on his pale skin. Morgan and Gracia, surprisingly, fall silent. Then Spencer grins, a genuine, unburdened smile that reaches his eyes. "I'll try," he promises.

You give a small wave to the team and head out, leaving Spencer to his lunch knowing that morgan and Garcia is going to tease the mess out of him poor boy.

🏷,: @sleepysongbirdsings @spencerreid66 @khxna @raysmayhem-72 @multiversefanfics @starrii-sturns

[ms-demeanor]

I had a straight up delightful moment at work yesterday when a new member of the management team asked me how we were tracking warranties and I explained that we kind of aren't and he asked why we aren't and that meant he got a 30-minute rundown of how top-to-bottom fucked the procurement process is here.

First I explained the process for sending a quote (i am assigned a ticket in system A1, I create an opportunity in system A2, from the opportunity i can generate a quote in system B - if I start with the quote I can't associate it back to the opportunity or the ticket, if we need to change the quote after it was approved we need to generate a new quote from the opportunity to overwrite the old one - and send the quote from system B.)

Then I explained the process of getting approval (system B sends the quote and receives the approvals but does not communicate that to system A, so until it is manually updated system A sends a daily reminder about the quote to the client and after three days with no response will close the ticket even if the client approved the quote in system B. System B will send an email if a quote is approved but it comes from our generic support email so to make sure that I don't miss approvals I have filtering rules set up and a folder I check twice a day. Because there are 4 people who use this system I also check twice daily in system B to see if anyone else's quotes were approved).

Then I explained how I place the orders (easy! I'm a pro! We have a standardized PO pattern that tracks date, vendor and client, it's handy)

Then I explained how I document the orders (neither system A nor B has a way of storing information about orders in progress, only orders that are complete; as such I have created a PO Documentation spreadsheet that lists the PO number, vendor, line of business, client, items ordered, order total, order date, ETA, tracking numbers, serial numbers, delivery confirmation, ticket number for install, ticket title for install, shippong cost, and close confirmation, which all have to be entered individually and which require a minimum of three visits to the spreadsheet per order: entering initial info, entering tracking and SN info, then once more to get that info to close the opportunity)

Then I explained how we close an order (confirm hardware delivery or activate software, use system A2 to code hardware/software/non-taxable products appropriately, run wizard to add charges from A2 to ticket in A1; because the A2 charges were locked by approval in system B, use system A3 to add shipping or other fees or to remove any parts that were approved but not actually needed or ordered - THIS WEEK I got permission to do this bit on my initial A1 procurement ticket instead of generating an A1 post-procurement ticket for fees and shipping. Once all of that is done it's moved into system A4 and is no longer my problem).

If there is a warranty involved it *should* automatically have the expiration tracked in system C, but system C doesn't have any way to pull order info so there's no way it can track warranty *start* dates without somebody manually entering it or without using API data from the manufacturer, which some manufacturers don't provide (fuck you, Apple).

But me and my trainee are happy to add the start date to the configuration once a tech tells us that the device is enrolled in system C. If the techs will tell us that we can add that info no problem.

Until then, I have unfortunately been forced to start a spreadsheet.

The manager was appalled, it was great. I got to say the words "part of the reason things sometimes fall through the cracks is because we have so many cracks" and his response was "no shit." I'm talking to vendors about a procurement system now :) :) :) :)

[nerdygirlramblings]

Off to See the Wizard (2)

previous | next

tw: canon-typical violence

Your introduction didn't cause pandemonium, per se, but your effect on the rest of the team was immediate. Soap sat straight up, his eyes alight like a kid who'd been set loose in a toy store. Kyle's whole demeanor unwound, his smile softening, his eyes going glassy, as if all the tension holding him together was suddenly released. Simon tried to make himself smaller, take up less space, maybe disappear into the cushions of the couch he was on. It was clear they didn't know you were coming, and they seemed as excited - well, all but Simon, who seemed terrified - about it as you were.

Things settled down quickly after that as Price reminded everyone this arrangement was for the sake of their next mission. That took some joy out of the introduction, but the electric thrum of excitement was there. You were finally in the same place as your boys.

Your first full day is rather boring. You are only a little startled to hear voices in the hall at 4:30 but then realize the guys are simply getting ready for their morning training. You also slightly regret picking the room next to the bathroom, despite how helpful it will be when you need to shower while the others are around.

You spend your morning setting up your mobile command center with the tech you brought. You arrange the monitors to match your usual setup, pulling up the background files and current mission data across your screens. You send an encrypted message to Laswell updating her on your status. You know she wants someone she trusts here, and encrypting the email is probably overkill, but you didn't get to where you are by assuming anything about safety. You'd been a black-hat hacker before Laswell scooped you up, so you know it's possible.

When you left, she told you you'd have the same decision-making abilities in the field as she does. You've never had that much power, and you want to show Laswell her trust is justified, so your message is a concern about transports and what you'd like to do instead. You want to get her take on it before simply changing things. In your mind, roping her in on these kinds of decisions now means she'll be less likely to challenge any decisions you make when the boys are in the field.

The highlight of your first day is the knock that comes around 1:00, startling you a bit, just as you're realizing skipping breakfast after such an interrupted schedule the previous day was not a smart idea. The only person you know who knows you're here is John, so you quickly open your door, smile already in place. But you're pleasantly surprised to see Kyle instead.

"Hey doll, Cap said you should come eat." He leans against the doorframe, smiling gently at you. "Looks like you're all set."

"Got everything but the curtain," you reply cheekily.

He grins in response. "We may call ya' Oz, but you're so much better than the man behind the curtain."

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and duck your head. You aren't behind a screen anymore; you're going to need to be more aware of your reactions to the boys if you don't want them reading you like an open book. "You said something about food," you murmur, shuffling paperwork around on your desk.

"Yea. The Captain was hopin' you'd join us," Kyle replies.

You glance up at him in the doorway. "Do I have a choice?" you ask cheekily. You need to eat, but you can't let them think you're so easily commanded. It sets a bad precedent and is at odds with what they know of you from previous missions.

Kyle's smile slides into a smirk. "He did say I might need to convince you."

You aren't sure what he might try to do to convince you, and your mind immediately jumps to some inappropriate fantasies. You're so flustered you quickly stammer, "No, you don't need to do that." You minimize your open programs, leaving a blank desktop, despite the fact you're the only person with access to this office. You turn to Kyle moments later. "I'm ready."

Kyle steps fully into the hallway, gesturing you to lead the way. You pull the door closed behind you, checking to make sure it locks. "You do remember I got the ten cent tour yesterday and don't really know where much of anything is, right?"

Kyle puts a gentle hand on your lower back, in the same way John did last night, unconsciously. He leads you through base, and you watch other groups of soldiers notice you for the first time. Some openly stare while others watch you on their perifery.

You're not sure what they think of you or if they even know who you are, but you don't like their prying eyes. Kyle doesn't seem to like it either, wrapping his arm more possessively around your waist as he guides you to the mess.

Walking through the door, it's easy to find the rest of the 141. For one thing, Simon is massive. Even seated he's nearly a head taller than most of the other people in the mess. For another, you know of their reputation, but the soldiers here have seen it first-hand and keep a wide berth in the mess. You don't know if the distance is out of fear or respect, but it means your boys have a table to themselves near the back of the room.

John and Simon are facing the door, eyes constantly scanning the room. You don't know if this is how they always are, or if they're looking for Kyle and you. You catch John's eye before turning to the food line, but Kyle steers you towards the others. As you approach, he calls out, "Look who I found? An' she's here without any coercion!" Simon looks at you and away again quickly, what is going on with him? Soap turns around, grin stretching across his face.

"Oz, mah girl, finally get ta see yer pretty face! Where've'ye been heedin'?" He pats the space next to him.

You slip onto the bench. "I've been in my office, Soap. Setting things up so I can support you while you're gone." He seems to deflate a little at the reminder that they'll be leaving soon, leaving you. You try not to read into it.

You turn and look at John, who's now across from you, and Kyle, who took the spot on your other side. You don't fail to notice that though your back is to the room, the two most imposing members of the 141 have their eyes on everything in the room, and you're flanked on either side by some of the youngest ever members of such an elite task force. Consciously or not, they've made sure you're well protected.

"So what do you recommend I get?" you ask, glancing around only to realize no one has anything to eat yet. "Wait, did you all eat already?"

John chuckles. "Nah, Oz. We were tryin-a be polite and wait for ya. 'Sides, Laswell said you'd likely skip meals, so I figured eatin' with ya would make sure yer fed." He stands, as does Kyle and Soap. "Now you sit tight with Ghost while we grab some scoff."

You watch as the others get up, leaving you with a Simon who looks anywhere but at you. You notice he has a plain black balaclava on, and he'd been wearing one yesterday too. You wonder if anyone on base knows what he looks like. You don't know what to say as you sit there in awkward silence. This is so different from your usual dynamic with Simon, it makes you uncomfortable.

Minutes tick slowly by, and you look over at John chatting with some other soldiers, Kyle and Soap with a few trays between them. Across from you, Ghost is still silent. And you finally snap.

"Simon?" You try to keep the hurt from your voice as he finally drags his eyes to yours. "Did I do something wrong or offend you somehow?"

series masterlist | main masterlist

~~

an: I'm trying to get Soap's accent, and it's hard because it's all in the vowel sounds, which have to be spelled out. Forgive me any glaring issues.

Taglist: @blackhawkfanatic

[moniquesha]

issues

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: You wait for your new therapist, and you also meet Bucky.

a/n: i can't move on from bucky in tfaws, plus this is just so short and cute and very realistic. then maybe i'll continue exfil tonight if i'm up for it.

You sit in the waiting room, hands folded in your lap, trying not to think about how many therapists you’ve been through already. Four, to be exact. None of them worked. But according to your research, the one you’re waiting for now is the best.. At least by reputation. The internet spoke of her impressive roster of clients: super soldiers, unnamed heroes, people who lived through impossible things. You didn’t care about that. Well, maybe a little. If she helped them, maybe she could help you too.

You arrived early. Two hours early, to be exact. The receptionist barely looked up from her screen before instructing you to sit and wait. So you did. And you’ve been waiting ever since. An hour has passed. Boredom claws at you, but the thought of leaving your perfect spot, of somehow being skipped after the hell of booking this session, keeps you locked in place.

Then, the couch shifts.

A presence. Subtle, but heavy. You don’t look at first, too lost in your own head, but eventually, curiosity wins out. A glance to the side, and Bucky.

Yes, that Bucky.

He looks just as out of place as you feel. Maybe more. In his metal hand, he holds a small bouquet of flowers, fingers idly gripping the stems. You don’t pry. You could, but that would require speaking, and you’re not entirely sure you remember how to do that properly. Others would ask for a picture. Maybe even an autograph. You would too, if you had even a shred of confidence in your system.

But damn.

You live in a world with wizards, aliens, reality-warping stones, and tech so advanced it defies logic. And here you are, stuck in your own head, unable to even figure yourself out.

Embarrassing.

Surprisingly he's the one to speak first.

“You here for Doc too?”

It takes a second for your brain to register that, yes, Bucky Barnes just spoke to you.

“Sorry, what?”

He huffs out a small breath, like he expected that response, like he’s used to people not keeping up with him right away. His fingers tighten around the stems of the flowers for a second before he nods toward the office door.

“Doc Christina,” he repeats. “You waiting for her too?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah.” You shift in your seat, suddenly hyper-aware of how stiff you’ve been sitting this whole time. “Took forever to get an appointment.”

Bucky lets out a dry chuckle. “Yeah. She’s got a long waitlist.” He pauses, then adds, “Worth it, though.”

That means something, coming from him. You don’t know his whole story, but you know enough. Enough to understand that if anyone needs therapy, it’s him. Silence stretches between you for a beat. It’s not exactly uncomfortable, but it’s not easy either.

“Those flowers for her?”

He glances down at the flowers like he just remembered he was holding them. His fingers flex around the stems before he shrugs.

“Nah,” he says. “For someone else.”

You nod, not pushing for more. If he wanted to elaborate, he would. But something about the way his jaw tenses tells you that whoever they’re for, they mean something. Maybe too much.

Silence settles again, but this time, it’s different. Less awkward, more… understanding. Two people waiting for the same therapist, carrying baggage too heavy to unpack in casual conversation.

Bucky shifts in his seat, then glances at you. “She’s good, you know,” he says, almost like an afterthought. “Doc. She doesn’t fix you, but she helps.”

You swallow down something complicated. “Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah.” Then, a small smirk. “But she’s brutal.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “But.. She’ll help right? Because my healthcare can’t take another beating right now.” you laugh awkwardly, mentally cursing yourself for even speaking too much.

Bucky actually huffs out a quiet laugh. Just a breath, really, but it’s something. He tilts his head slightly, considering you for a moment before nodding.

“She’ll help,” he says, like it’s a promise. “But you might leave every session feeling like you went ten rounds with a heavyweight.”

You grimace, sinking further into your seat. “Great. Love that.”

He smirks, but there’s something softer in his expression now. Maybe he sees a little too much of himself in you. Maybe he just knows what it’s like to sit in this exact spot, dreading whatever comes next. For a moment, you forget who he is. Forget the history, the stories, the headlines. He’s just another person waiting for help. Just like you.

“What are you here for?”

You freeze for a second, caught off guard by the question.

It’s not like you don’t know the answer. You do. It’s just.. saying it out loud feels different. Feels real. You glance at him, expecting impatience or regret for even asking, but he just looks at you. Calm, waiting. Like he actually wants to know.

You exhale, shifting in your seat. “I, uh..” You hesitate, then force a small, awkward laugh. “Honestly? I don’t even know how to sum it up.”

Bucky nods, like he gets it. Maybe he does.

You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. “I guess I just feel.. stuck. Like my brain keeps running in circles, and no matter what I do, I can’t get out of my own way.” You glance at him, suddenly self-conscious. “That probably sounds dumb.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Hey, it doesn’t.” He leans back against the couch, staring ahead. “Sounds about right.”

You sit in silence for a moment before you finally ask, “What about you?”

His jaw tenses slightly, his grip on the flowers tightening again. For a second, you think he won’t answer.

Then, quietly, he says, “Trying to make peace with a past that won’t let me go.”

It’s simple. Honest. Heavy.

You don’t push, and he doesn’t say anything more.

But somehow, just sitting there waiting, together, feels like a small step forward.

You exhale, staring ahead. “Well, I hope for a better us. In the future. If that's possible.”

There's silence after that, but it doesn’t feel awkward. It just lingers, settling between you both like a shared thought neither of you knows how to put into words.

Bucky shifts slightly, then leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “It will,” he says eventually. “Just takes time.”

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head. “Time’s kind of a pain in the ass, though.”

That earns a smirk from him. “Yeah. That, it is.”

The receptionist calls a name. Not yours, not his. The waiting continues, but at least now, you’re not doing it alone.

Bucky lets out a quiet scoff, watching as someone disappears into the therapist’s office. “Finally, the line is moving.”

You nod, stretching your legs out slightly. “Guess that means we’re one step closer to getting our brains picked apart.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Yeah. Brace yourself.”

You chuckle, but there’s a nervous edge to it. The thought of actually stepping into that office, of unpacking everything you’ve been carrying, feels heavier now. But at the very least, you’re not the only one feeling it.

After some time, the receptionist finally calls your name.

You exhale sharply, nodding as you stand. Before heading to the office, you turn to Bucky and give him a small smile.

“Hope your girl likes those flowers. They’re beautiful.”

There’s a brief pause, and then because your brain refuses to let you leave without making it worse. You awkwardly add, “Or boy… if you’re into that. Yeah, I’m going.”

Bucky blinks, clearly caught off guard. Then, to your absolute surprise, he actually chuckles, showing his charming smile.

You nod to yourself, as if that somehow saves you from the awkwardness, and turn away. But just as you reach for the doorknob, you hear him say, “They’re for a friend.”

You glance back, and he’s still smirking, shaking his head slightly like he can’t believe you just said that. But there’s something softer in his expression, something almost appreciative.

“Good luck in there,” he adds.

You huff out a breath, gripping the doorknob. “Yeah. You too.”

And with that, you step inside, ready. Sort of.. To face whatever comes next.

a/n: see! cute!

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