#also I mean. he was written by men who are.

[artist-issues]

So if you believe every biblical word is 100% the word of your god, not to be questioned, only obeyed, regardless of how far humanity develops, how do you manage Ephesians 6:5-9?

Should human trafficking victims simply obey their captors “with a sincere heart” given that they are “servants of Christ” and the Bible urges bond servants to be “faithful and obedient?”

Hell, it promises obedient slaves will be rewarded in Heaven.

To anyone reading, seriously, check the whole verse, the context doesn’t make it better.

If your argument is that all in the Bible is above question, how do you account for that?

Nobody said "not to he questioned, only to he obeyed"—if what you MEAN by "not to be questioned," is "not to be carefully examined in order to get it right." The Bible straight-up says to carefully examine God's words. So don't be disingenuous.

Every Biblical word is 100% the Word of God, yeah. Ephesians 6:1-9 says:

"Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. Honor your father and mother (which is the first commandment with a promise), so that it may be well with you, and that you may live long in the land. Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord. Slaves, be obedient to those who are your masters according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in the integrity of your heart, as to Christ; not by way of eyeservice, as men-pleasers, but as slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart, serving with good will as to the Lord, and not to men, knowing that whatever good thing each one does, this he will receive back from the Lord, whether slave or free. And masters, do the same things to them, giving up threatening, knowing that both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no partiality with Him."

The chapter is talking about Christian-human relationships with other humans. Starts with the most basic human institution—family. Moves on to slaves and masters. Slaves, indentured servants, bond slaves, were all common in the time of the Bible being written. It was not cultural taboo to have people living with and working for you, or even being bought and sold by you—what the Bible is saying here is actually very counter-cultural. Because it means you have to keep treating them as equal humans, not objects or beasts of burden you can beat or mistreat however you want. Which is a low bar in our minds, but was an incredibly high bar back then. It's called "interpretation." You can't just take words written in a specific context and time period, for a specific intent, with a thousands-of-years-older vocabulary and culture, and go "oh, well in my time period and my language that word means this." It's about as dumb as saying the Wizard of Oz is about queer sex purely because of how many times the word "queer" is printed in the book.

Human trafficking victims are not the kind of "slaves" this verse is talking about, and I bet you know it.

In fact, there is too much anti-human-trafficking philosophy in the Bible for even the most ardent atheist to try the same little "discredit the Bible" smear tactic you're trying right now. Anyone who knows anything about history (beyond a mere 185 years ago, that is) and can see concepts beyond the far-West-ideology of "slavery bad" can have a more intelligent discussion than this.

I'm tired of the same old tripe.

Don't you see that God is using the same term, "slaves" to refer to Christians, HIS people, who are also called His "sheep, children, beloved, inheritors, heirs?" In this same verse? So then when the God who invented humanity uses the word "slave" can't you infer that maybe He doesn't mean it with the same baby-level-100 1/2-year-old connotations that you do? If He's using it to refer to the very same people He loves, protects, sacrificed His life for, and goes to unimaginable lengths to bless--then do you really think this verse is talking about people who are categorically worth being treated as less than human?

That doesn't make sense. You can see that it doesn't make sense.

Bottom line: if God said slavery was morally acceptable, guess what? It would be morally acceptable. He invented reality, your brain, and morality. But He didn't say that, so grow up and be serious. Instead, what He said was listed above: no matter your circumstances, be it as a child, father, slave, or master, remember and conduct yourself as if you're all slaves of God, and you're living to please Him, not each other or yourselves.

God condemns "man-stealing" in Exodus 21:16. Deuteronomy 22 condemns rape. The same God wrote 100% of the Bible through several different authors across centuries by the inspiration of the very words with His Spirit. No, this passage of Ephesians does not tell sexually trafficked victims to obey their kidnappers and rapists. And you know it. Got anything else?

[venice-1987]

One thing I actually love about season 7, and really the entirety of Arc 2 in general is Terry. So often, media chooses to depict trans men as angry, bitter, mean, etc, whether that be because of the myth that Testosterone makes you an angrier person, because of how they think the world has wronged them (which is valid), or because they're a man now, so they must be angry. And unfortunately, these perceptions of trans men have bled into real life, even within our own community. All trans men must be violent perpetrators of toxic masculinity and patriarchy because we are men, even hen we are ourselves victims of a patriarchy that is violent to us, pre and post transition.

Now, The Dragon Prince is Queernorm and dealing with many more plot and character threads than a patriarchy that isn't there in the world, so I never expected Terry to embody these themes. But He still could have fallen into the stereotype, nonetheless, because the Dragon Prince was written by people that live in our real world where these stereotypes do exist.

But he didn't. He is an embodiment of peace and harmony and love in nature. He giggles and claps his hands at the carousel in the puzzle house. He has an sensory anxiety routine ready to calm his girlfriend down. He is polite and awkward and positive towards Viren, who is a mean mass, frankly. He defends a mother bird, and takes care of her kids when he fails. He does the classic "Hey, Zuko here!" to join the good guys and is bamboozled when no one knows who he is. He is happy when a very angry and protective brother bear Soren does recognize him though. He is the source of many fart jokes. He wiggles his booty. He is protective of nature, and of the people he loves, even when he is hurt by them, and even when they are not on the same side anymore.

Terry is very important in this age of media where Trans men are either bad people or victims, and not anything else. I love him for that, and needed him, because I am more like him than any of the other trans men I've seen.

Also, DeadEnd Paranormal Park with Gay fail Barney, I love him too.

[spurious]

What is a headcanon you have about Rodney that may be controversial?

SO I’ve been thinking about this since you sent it while I was cooking dinner last night and I stopped and walked into our room and went “DO I?” But uh. Anyway. I don’t know that my Rodney opinions are super controversial but like.

I definitely think that he’s unfortunately something of a misogynist? I think he was fed a lot of toxic patriarchy bullshit growing up (the whole thing with Jeannie telling him he’s lucky to find a nice girl who puts up with him says a LOT about their upbringing) and he accepted it uncritically as, like, the way the world works™️. I think he calls Sam Carter sexy and a dumb blonde because he’s insulted she doesn’t want to be his friend so his first lashing out instinct is to Treat Her How Men Treat Women.

Do I think he learns and grows during SGA and starts treating women as people much more often? Yeah. I mean, thank fucking god right? Lmao

Anyway a good portion of Live Oak 5 is just…Rodney being something of a misogynist and (as I’ve expressed at length to you my beloved wife audioletter) well I am a little bit worried people will hate me for it lol! But like. This is who he is.

[bayetea]

I don't like the judo flip in moa as much as the next guy but in my eyes it's largely the result of rick not taking female violence half as seriously as male violence (a result of viewing women as weaker and inferior to men such that their acts of violence don't need to be taken as seriously) and not so much anything about annabeth herself. like I do genuinely feel that annabeth is a complex heroine and definitely one of the better ones in the realm of ya action-adventure fiction produced in the past 25 years but she is still a girl being written by a man and all I'm saying is that her writing clearly reflects that sometimes (more in tags)

[milfmas]

.

[dirhwangdaseul-archived]

idk if i have stated in so many words before but kinda weird for people not to care about the brown men of the story on account of them being men

like most people did to javi irl what the yellowjackets did in the show lol, dismissed always, no more than the little kid, he was already dead

[capaldiera]

i started reading this fucking out of character thick of it fanfic like a week ago bc even tho i could tell from first glance it was going to be ooc i was just curious and it sounded kind of funny slash tragic. (how are you tagging grief child death domestic violence attempted suicide on a ttoi fic hello?) and i dooo like complaining And for the most part if it weren't supposed to be about those guys it would just be pretty good so im not Regretting it? but i didn't realise how many stories were in the series and im probably 150k words in. and not much more than halfway through

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

what some of the undertale fandom did with grillby fucking fascinates me like my god

[perenlop]

“oh it’s so hard to care about female characters because their writing is so misogynistic” ???? do you think that’s the character’s fault or??

[variousqueerthings]

the fun of having put out the "bj's moustache is gay culture" post while also headcanoning first and foremost that whatever bj is, it's not actually gay but something way funnier and more fucked up

[snakecat]

if u see sasuke as anything other than completely whipped then ur wrong. uchihas canonically have their “person” who is their closest friend, their weak spot, etc. sasuke spends the entire original series acknowledging his close bond with naruto and trying to get rid of it cuz he thinks it makes him weak. at the end of naruto, he’s like “man, i wanna die” and naruto says “NO, you’re going to live and help me rebuild konoha” and sasuke is like “ugh fine whatever” and then spends all of boruto avoiding his family, running around saying “where’s naruto” and then proceeding to have secret meetings with naruto in the woods and going to restaurants with him. sasuke is not the coldhearted bitch he wants u to believe he is

[silverselfshippingchaos]

(giggles and kicks legs)

[chaotic-history]

I will die on this hill

[thesmokinpossum]

btw, while I think we can all agree that her chapter contains quite a few...questionable elements, I'm glad Lucy Mancini exists in the universe of The Godfather because thanks to her there's one woman in this book who ends up in a materially better place than where she started unlike litterally all the others so we can at least appreciate that

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

I think a lot of what's currently informing my fellow white people curdling like milk and shitting their pants when asked to interrogate their relationship with rap is the way many people (especially well-meaning white people) still can't help but think of racism as something that you get accused of rather than something that influences the entire world in pernicious ways.

like, I think a lot of people currently posting the most cringe takes about rap right now would very much agree that Racism Is Bad and probably even acknowledge that rap has been and is still widely maligned and devalues for racist reasons.

but that last step, acknowledging that your personal tastes and interests are also influenced by systemic racism, is where a LOT of people stumble. it's very easy to assume that because you consider yourself against racism, then your tastes and interests cannot possibly be at all informed by racist. if you're a white American, that's simply extremely unlikely to be true.

speaking from personal experience, I had to Work to decenter whiteness in my media tastes. when I was like 19 I listened to a podcast where a white Jewish man talked about keeping a spreadsheet of the books he read to make sure he was reading a roughly equal number of men and women, and I started doing the same thing to track how many authors of color I was reading. at the time I took pride in my belief that I was reading diversely, but when the year ended I was shocked to discover that people of color had written barely a quarter of the books I'd read. I had been giving myself way too much credit while still unintentionally prioritizing white authors, because white authors were the ones I knew best. so I started making an extremely conscious effort to seek out books by authors of color, both fiction and nonfiction, that sounded like my kind of shit.

music was extremely similar. I grew up a little white girl in a very white city in a very white state; nobody was offering me an education in rap or r&b or soul or hip hop. as an young adult there were definitely some Black artists I liked, like Janelle Monáe, but I had to take the initiative of seeking out more artists to find out who I fuck with. you're not going to like everybody, which is fine, but are you even giving anyone a chance? are you even looking?

racism has roots everywhere, bro. it's not enough to just acknowledge it, you have to actively get digging.

[navybrat817]

Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.

Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.

He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.

If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.

Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.

As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”

Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.

The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.

“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”

He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.

You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”

He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”

You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”

He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”

“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”

“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”

He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.

“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”

“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”

He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.

“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”

A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”

Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.

You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.

He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.

His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.

“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”

He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.

Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.

“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”

He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.

Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”

His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”

It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.

“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”

It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”

Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.

You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”

“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.

“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.

“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”

Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”

He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.

I love you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”

His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.

You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.

“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.

“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”

Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.

Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.

And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.

“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”

“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”

You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”

He titled his head. “What’s that?”

A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”

So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi