#among many other figurines/dolls

[fantasticalleigh]

i love having and collecting figurines and dolls and knick-knacks and such. i love arranging them around my room and displaying them on my desk and having ones from my different favorite media. i love having a little reminder of my favorite characters everywhere i look. i think they give my room a lot of character and idk they make me happy.

but my god.

the DUST. there will always be dust. no matter how much i dust it always returns. dust is eternal.

[boopshoops]

Ah, how odd. It appears one of the puppets in Playful Land aren't quite like the rest. Almost like it has one of those consciences everyones been talking about, huh?

oc template by ai-kan1!! dividers by dollywons! Sound on!

Name: Isola Pinacirco-Cira

Nicknames: Pin, Pinpin, Goby

Gender: Demiwoman (Though she has not fully realized it yet!)

Pronouns: She/they

Sexuality: Unlabeled

Birthday: May 5 (Taurus)

Age: ??? (She has been asleep for a very long time, but she has been awake for 19 years)

Height: 5'0" or 152cm, though the height of the doll is adjustable.

Voice Claim(s): Lisa Hannigan, Miyuki Sawashiro

Twisted from: Pinocchio, Wendy's Music Box (From Tinkerbell/Peter Pan)

Unique Magic: "I've got no Strings" - The bearer can control and grant practically any unliving, immobile object the ability to move under their command. The more objects are being controlled, the more magic is consumed. However, the generation of blot is shockingly slow, allowing the bearer to use the magic for hours or even days at a time. Depending on the object, it may appear as though it is being haunted by a poltergeist. The magic, however, has a very short range. The object must be within five feet of the bearer, or it is no longer effective. Isola uses this magic to move her body on a day-to-day basis.

Grade: Freshman, though only after the Playful Land Event

Class: 1-D

Job: Playful Land Performer

Hobbies: Dancing ballet, face paint, makeup, putting outfits together, singing, sewing, wood carving, ceramic/pottery/resin repair.

Likes: Feather accessories, being alone, birds, rodents, bugs, performance, applause, classical, soul, and lofi music, animal figurines.

Dislikes: Rain, being alone, excessive heat, winter, bass boosted, fast, or hyper music, too frequent of doll repair jobs, cramped spaces, being unable to eat.

Fears: Being unlovable, never loving someone else, living a life alone, never living in a body they feel comfortable in.

Summary: A quaint performer at the renowned Playful Land, constantly known for putting on a show of elegance and grace. With her unusual cadence, she often struggles to maintain an audience despite her immense talent. Isola frequently scares off certain guests on accident. They have a very hard time handling their emotions, causing them to either come off highly unnatural or lacking facial expressions to a degree that could disturb others.

That's just the cons of being one of the many puppets on the premises, though. She is often mistaken as being one of the other, more robotic workers. Isola's body is detailed and articulated enough to stand out among them, but off-putting enough to be immediately recognized as inhuman. Nonetheless, she remains on the traveling amusement park as what is considered a "highly prized item" by the owner. Of course, you don't come across puppets like her everyday, do you? Might as well put her on display.

When night hits and protocol begins, when the consequences of breaking the many rules of the park take their toll, they can do nothing but watch over it all. It makes her feel sick, quite honestly. Disgusted. Yet, she isn't allowed to help anyone. Her attempts to help usually cause the visitors to flee from her anyway, followed by her own set of serious consequences imposed by the owner. The most she can truly do is make it harder on the other workers: including those she has no choice but to be closest to on the ship: Fellow and Gid- Ah. Wrong Identity. Ernesto and Gino.

CHARACTER PLAYLIST - INSPIRATION - CREATION STORY

Author's Note: holy fuck they have a chokehold on me. hOOOO they have a chokehold on me. she came to me in a vision and did nOT let me go until she was created, holy fuck. UGSDBGSDIUAAAAA anyway, i love her and she is my baby. my slightly fucked up baby.

Note that relationships are up for possible changes in the future- I have thought about possibly involving them with someone romantically, but i feel like I want her to put HERSELF first before that. Her story is one about self love, self discovery, and self care, and I feel like throwing her into oc x canon romance too soon would negate that. ALSO she is NOT a part of my TCOAV au!!! i mean. im probably gonna still do fun stuff where she could interact with my ocs from there since im an au fanatic, but- yeah. tcoav is a story more focused on Yuu Shi, and I feel that would also take away from important parts of Isola's character and growth. tis an excuse to try a new oc profile format too <333

that all being said and on a somewhat less related note. i wanna make a comic of her so badly. fuCK. evaporates into thin air. thank u for coming to my ted talk.

Tag list :D

@lowcallyfruity @skriblee-ksk @cecilebutcher @kitwasnothere @justm3di0cr3

@thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @techno-danger @scint1llat3 @the-trinket-witch

@beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto @qsoap

@sillyslipperybananapeel @tixdixl @twstinginthewind @gimmeurmoneyagh

[haggishlyhagging]

The goddesses of ancient Greece also displayed the characteristics of flesh and blood menstruants: Medusa, her hair writhing with vaginal snakes, had an ability that was also imputed to menstruants in some cultures: she turned living things to stone with her gaze. She is the menstruant naked, out of control, without protective cosmetikos. Gaia, the earth, was a chasm guarded by a great python. Long-tressed Demeter was also the earth, and her daughter Kore, or Persephone, the maiden, was portrayed holding the menstrual pomegranate. Kore disappeared and her mother went to look for her—a common menarchal drama for some peoples. Hera was "the bride," dressed austerely in long gowns. Hecate was the dark moon, portrayed as an old woman. At Sumer, alabaster statues of the large-eyed moon goddess Ningal were dressed, fed, and washed; even the urbane goddess Inanna was portrayed in one statuette holding a scratching stick, adorned with the cosmetikos of a temple courtesan.

Frequently ancient figurines portray two women together, sometimes melded like Siamese twins, side by side. Often these "dolls" wear skirts, eye and lip makeup, and hoop earrings. Frequently they are stained red. Similar dolls are still made for girls to play with in North Africa, India, and parts of the Middle East. Some of the modern dolls are of a man and woman side by side. My guess is that the paired icons were originally two sisters, representing synchronous flow. The dolls, I was told vehemently by the import shop clerk, have nothing to do with lesbianism, and I'm certain that in any current patriarchal religious system, that is true. But in more female-centered older societies, the Andean, for example, and in many parts of Western society, homosexual relations have a rightful, appropriate, and even sacred place. It thus seems significant that in the south of India, among goddess-worshiping Tamils of the Untouchable caste, a name for lesbian lover is "sister-sister."

Many goddess mythologies feature two creation sisters. Pele, the Hawaiian volcanic fire goddess who creates the earth's surface, has a sister who is "Sea Mist." Among the Pueblos, sister goddesses Naotsete and Uretsete create objects under a blanket they hold between them. Sometimes one sister dwells in the world below, "in the shade," the place of the dark moon, while the other rules above, as with Egyptian Isis and her underworld sister Nepthys. The oldest known menstrual narrative of the meetings of two such sisters is the Sumerian poem, "The Descent of Inanna to the Underworld," whose metaformic meanings I will decipher later. A Caribbean proverb summarizes an ancient attitude of female "flow": "When a woman loves another woman, it is the blood of the Mother speaking."

-Judy Grahn, Blood, Bread, and Roses: How Menstruation Created the World

[here-there-were-dragons]

non-exhaustive list of interesting things i saw at the store today

-plush doll of lisa simpson with haunted eyes (there were no other simpsons plushes visible anywhere)

-robotic talking krusty klown someone had hidden in a home decor aisle

-a pillow that looked like a realistic wood log

-an unpleasantly scratchy but very aesthetically pleasing pillow that looked like a realistic chicken, with neck scales made out of beads

-the world's most annoying singing animatronic skeleton, whom i very much wanted to smash over the head with it's own guitar

-a giant disembodied shadow the hedgehog head

-scented glitter playdoh

-plastic cyborg dinosaur mask (too small for my head)

-minecraft anniversary enderdragon, which apparently could make sounds

-several different sizes of starlight mint candy shaped pillow (sadly the smaller one was a squishmallow with legs and the smallest one was a foam ornament)

-sonic the hedgehog advent calendar

-fake "carvable" pumpkins made out of plaster

-a knit pumpkin skeleton???? not just like a skeleton with a pumpkin on it's head, it was a pumpkin skeleton???

-functional nerf minecraft crossbow, among other functional minecraft weapons

-"let's hit eachother with fake swords", the world's most self-explanatory toy

-penguin shaped waffle makers

-pillow shaped like a snowflake with embroidered beads

-giant plastic bowser figure

-unsettling animatronic dog (store mascot?)

-exclusively ugly dresses and sweaters, in office carpet grey, old puke orange, tasteless olive, and divorced mother in law cheetah print

-winged dragon onesie for small child

-shark slippers (also for small child)

-small plastic figure of shadow the hedgehog that appeared to have munchkin cat dwarfism

-drone disguised as a fighter jet

-pleasing wooden bowl in which to put medieval soup

-just, so many candles, in increasingly unhelpful scents like "disco orchard" and "winter midnight joy"

-small plush husky my mother spent an hour straight cooing over obsessively

-minecraft pickaxe (hurts to tap head with)

-inexplicably purple minecraft sword

-pack of minecraft figurines the perfect size to use as d&d minis

-similarly sized pack of simpsons figurines

-a collection of extremely ugly decorative birds that appeared to be dressed as various different types of cultists

-a plastic owl, molded to look like it was made out of black wicker, when it was in fact a solid plastic piece

-The Candy Skeleton

-Poseable minecraft steve

-an absurd number of squishmallows (seriously does anyone make or sell literally any other stuffed animals anymore)

-giant plush mario mushroom

-giant plush blue shell to murder your eldest sibling with

-plush bowser holding the plush corpse of his son while a grotesquely oversized bob-omb watches blankly

-sonic the hedgehog crab-bot that we could not determine whether or not it was a functional robot or just an unmoving toy

-empty shelves where halloween candy used to be, with conspicuously only popcorn remaining

-will add if i remember anything else

[dabantam]

Introducing the scraps

I’m working on an original species called the scraps, partially based around tsukumogami from Japanese folklore.

Basic Lore

Starting things off, let’s establish what a scrap actually is. Scraps are inanimate objects that have been infused with souls or fragments of souls(usually by a necromancer, magical mishaps, or by an ascended scrap), transforming them into a new being ranging from just a creature to an anthropomorphic version of the original item to even resembling a humanoid projection carrying the item (or rather, the actual scrap) around and acting as a puppet for the scrap. All these scraps usually retain features from their original selves and usually have some variation among them (oftentimes, no two scraps formed from the same item take on the same form). There are a few exceptions, though, as scraps formed from figurines and dolls are usually just living versions of their base items, while plush toys resemble children wearing pajamas and hats based on their base items, as well as sporting the limbs of their base forms. Also, while scraps tend to be formed from smaller objects, objects as large as trains can become scraps if enough souls are infused into it.

As varied as scraps are, they can also come in a variety of forms depending on their power level. The initial is called the Base Form, basically what all scraps start off as, with a few powers and personalities based on the item they were formed from and the collective personalities of the soul fragments that created them (though scraps formed from a single soul tend to have personalities closer to their original selves). All Base Form scraps can take on a more monstrous form known as a Frenzy Form (originally called “Rage Burst Form” in the old Krockman stories, but I’m honestly torn between the two), which is much stronger and more offensively capable. Overtime, Base Form scraps can gain more powers, including the ability to take on human forms. Eventually, they evolve into a stronger form known as the Enlightened Form, being slightly more humanoid in appearance, as well as having an equally stronger Frenzy Form (though these tend to be used less frequently than the Base Form equivalents, mostly for emergencies). The Enlightened Form is achieved through a scrap becoming more self aware, growing beyond the personalities of its base components and reaching self actualization (this is easier for scraps formed from a single soul, but any scrap can pull it off if they try hard enough). Enlightened Form scraps can evolve even further into what’s known as the Ascended Form after undergoing a ritual. The most human-looking of the scrap forms, they’re also the most powerful of all scraps, essentially being physical gods. When a scrap reaches this point, it usually picks an area in the city or town they live in to claim as their territory and acts as a local guardian deity. This usually entails offering aid to those who live in or near its territory (scrap or otherwise), giving a safe haven for other scraps, and most importantly, creating new scraps. It’s not unheard of of ascended scraps forming alliances with each other, forming city spanning scrap networks.

Setting

Ideally, the scraps would be found in an urban fantasy setting (think Dimension 20’s Fantasy High or Unsleeping City campaigns). While I have a hard time seeing them in a more traditional high fantasy setting like DND or a sci-fi setting like Spelljammer, I do have some ideas on how to incorporate them. For high fantasy, have it so that the spell to create scraps is fairly new, and as such, there really aren’t that many out there yet. As for sci-fi, have it so that while there are several scrap colonies, they don’t really spread too far out from the main planet, with only a few going on space journeys.

[computer-knowledge27]

Navratri is a nine-night Hindu festival celebrating the goddess Durga It involves fasting, feasting. 🌟 Happy Navratri! 🌟

Navratri is a vibrant Hindu festival celebrated with great fervor and enthusiasm across India and by Hindus around the world. The word 'Navratri' literally translates to "nine nights" in Sanskrit, and the festival spans nine nights and ten days, dedicated to the worship of the Hindu goddess Durga and her various forms. Navratri typically falls in the Hindu lunar month of Ashvin , which usually corresponds to September or October in the Gregorian calendar.

Here are some key aspects and traditions associated with Navratri:

Worship of Goddess Durga: Navratri honors the divine feminine energy, particularly Goddess Durga, who symbolizes courage, power, and victory over evil. Each of the nine days is dedicated to one of her different forms, known as Navadurga. These forms include Shailaputri, Brahmacharini, Chandraghanta, Kushmanda, Skandamata, Katyayani, Kalaratri, Mahagauri, and Siddhidatri.

Fasting and Feasting: Fasting is a common practice during Navratri, where devotees abstain from consuming certain foods or have strict diets. Some may observe complete fasting, while others may abstain from specific food items like grains, onion, garlic, and non-vegetarian food. The fasts are believed to purify the body and mind and enhance spiritual practices. At the same time, special Navratri delicacies are prepared and shared among family and friends, including dishes like sabudana khichdi, kuttu ki puri, and singhare ka halwa, made with ingredients permissible during fasting.

Garba and Dandiya Raas: One of the highlights of Navratri celebrations is the vibrant and colorful Garba and Dandiya Raas dances. Garba involves circular formations where participants dance gracefully in traditional attire, often accompanied by devotional songs praising the goddess. Dandiya Raas, on the other hand, involves energetic and rhythmic dance performances with sticks (dandiyas) held in each hand, symbolizing the playful combat between Goddess Durga and the demon Mahishasura.

Golu or Bommai Kolu: In South India, particularly in Tamil Nadu and Karnataka, Navratri is celebrated through the tradition of Golu or Bommai Kolu. During this custom, dolls and figurines representing various deities and mythological characters are displayed on steps or shelves adorned with colorful decorations. Visitors are invited to homes to view the display, and it's considered auspicious to offer prayers and seek blessings during this time.

Vijayadashami: Navratri culminates on the tenth day with Vijayadashami or Dussehra, which marks the triumph of good over evil. This day is significant for various reasons, including the victory of Lord Rama over the demon king Ravana in the epic Ramayana. In many parts of India, effigies of Ravana, Megh nath, and Kum bhakarna are burnt to symbolize the victory of righteousness.

[surri12]

7 Stunning Christmas Manger Scenes to Inspire Your Holiday Spirit

For many, Christmas is the happiest season of the year. It combines love and faith with traditions in ways that are often hard to describe. There are many creative and fun ways to bring the spirit of the holidays into your home. One of the most meaningful elements is a Christmas manger scene. Besides displaying it inside the house, you can even showcase it outdoors. We have prepared a collection of seven stunning manger scenes to use for decorating your home this Christmas.

1. Classic Indoor Christmas Manger Scene

A classic scene set during the birth of Christ is a must-have Christmas decoration. It consists of Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus, the manger, shepherds, angels, and animals. Wooden or porcelain figurines make the most sense and evoke a sense of warmth and comfort in people. If you want to create a more serene and calm space, surround the stage with soft lights and candles.

2. Outdoor Christmas Manger Scene

Perfect for your front yard, the outdoor Christmas manger scene displays the spirit of the season to everyone. These banners may incorporate basic wooden structures with lifelike features that light up. An outdoor setup often includes LED lights to brighten the scene during darkness, creating a beautiful sight. Weapons and garlands can also be used to complete the display.

3. Charlie Brown Christmas Manger Scene

For a comical touch, Charlie Brown's Christmas manger scene includes Peanuts characters. In the present-day conscience, this version showcases Charlie Brown and his unique determination, which can be illustrated by him using his friends to replace traditional nativity figures, which holiday decor would certainly be fascinating and unique. This is great for Peanuts enthusiasts who want a little extra sweetness in their Christmas holiday decorations without taking up as much space or investing in a traditional theme.

4. Christmas Blow-Up Manger Scene

Another alternative is Christmas blow-up scenes of the manger and nativity figures that are likely to attract attention as an outdoor decoration. These inflatable scenes are quite simple to construct and frequently illuminate themselves from within, making them appear bright and pleasant in every yard. Blow-up decorations are made to endure harsh exterior environments so that ideals of Christmas can be introduced into your home with little effort and large effect.

5. DIY Christmas Manger Scene Decorations

You can place dolls, figurines, or other decorative objects in a Christmas manger scene even if you decide to do it yourself. Use materials like wood, clay, or fabric to make the Holy Family and the shepherds, along with angel figures that will be set up on the display. A do-it-yourself idea is a brilliant idea to make your interior decorating unique as well as entertainment for the family. Your unique contribution may be placed on a mantle, near a Christmas tree, or outside.

6. Rustic Christmas Manger Scene with Natural Elements

Silesian?s Russia WI dies of the is another approach to decor Rosanna remnant for a festive period. This style is especially popular among people who prefer simplicity, with scenes often made out of reclaimed wood, burlap and press Patti. A Frame can be built to raise the nativity scene indoors and out without clashing with any themes, all bones. Suitable for styling charisma as well. 

7. Compact Christmas Manager Scene for Small Spaces

It can also be an excellent option for a compact Christmas manger scene that would easily fit into a small room, as it gives a neat outline to the holy family in a larger display. For this, a smaller version featuring Peanuts characters can be employed for decoration as featured in the display.

Tips for Displaying Your Christmas Manger Scene

Add Lighting: 

Alternative Seating for the Christmas Manger Scene to maximize space and achieve better visibility for the Scene Setting

Setting up the elements and recreating a real scene when setting any Christmas decorations, the Christmas cow approach tends to be visually Nepal as snow.

Select a Nice Suitable Place: A wise place to consider is a themed park surrounding the main scene, which shows the scene as its focus mostly; kids especially like to see it. Display your set on the lawn and make it one of the centers of the lower-class flat Cuba.

This Decoration Complements Others: Make your manger scene more interesting in terms of the colors, wise by incorporating the likes of wreaths, lights, or garlands into the color scheme.

 Final Thoughts

A Christmas manger scene represents the deeper significance of the season and is more than just a festive decoration. Every kind adds something different to your Christmas decor, from conventional interior arrangements to wacky Charlie Brown variations and blow-up outdoor displays. 

[diegos-portfolio]

Diego’s Statement of Photography 2023

All my life, as far back as I could remember, I was always a fan of being detailed, of finding stories and making stories, of entertaining people with what I did and made.

When I was around 9 or 10, my father signed me up to a photography class, where I began to learn the ins and outs of a camera, as well as various techniques, such as a shallow depth of field, and the concept of thirds. In that same summer, I had also taken a stop-motion class where I would rearrange lego figurines with my “classmates” and make our theater pieces. The former served as a building block to my artistic style, while the latter helped me understand the concept of a plot. Admittedly, both were a bit underwhelming in terms of what they had to offer. Nevertheless, I did feel their presence in my life was essential.

As I grew older, I would find myself photographing nature (mostly clouds) whether the timing was appropriate or not, and during my last semester before the covid pandemic, I found myself working with what I had to create the scenes I had in my head for my Advanced Videography class. The 2 years afterwards is where I started to create stories, and once again I had found myself making images in my mind and applying them in my stories. Eventually, I returned to Delaware Tech and began applying what I’d practiced and honed into creating new pieces altogether.

My portraits were my representation of everyday people. For the working class, I had to time it correctly, so that I could photograph them without them noticing, so as to get them as candid as possible. For the portrait of the older women, I asked the woman in the pink shirt to pose, whereas the woman in the white “guess” shirt (my mother) was shot in a happenstance moment, so as to create the effect of a movement blur while she was in focus.

My beach photos were taken in early October, and were done to create a sense of peace, of commercialism, and of liminality.

My higher still lifes were photographed in dark lighting to create focus on the lighter aspects of the photos - such as the eye of the spine of the book, the books in the middle of the composition, and the selections of music on either side of the multipurpose record player. The only exception of this, of course, is the wall of crosses, which was well-illuminated by the chandelier light overhead to symbolize the ascension of my aunt and grandfather seen in photographs at the bottom of the photo and who are no longer among the living.

The lower still-lifes are based on the last project of the semester, where he had to tie them together with a theme. As I struggled to think of what I could piece together, I was inspired by the season, and did a collage with the theme being the commercialization of nostalgia. The christmas tree - which is from A Charlie Brown Christmas - serves as both a pandering to nostalgia (since the movie has been around for nearly 60 years), and as a tree to display the “gifts”. The gameboy watch, commemorative Uno deck, and the Coca-Cola bottle were examples of successful nostalgia pandering, while the four-eyed Grimace doll is an example of poor pandering, since many generations - young and old - found the whole series of ads confusing, since older generations didn’t understand the impact of Cactus Plant Flea Market, and younger generations barely remember Grimace - or the other dolls, for that matter - as a McDonald’s character. The Coca-Cola bottle also serves to tie in with the Charlie Brown Christmas tree, since the original movie was sponsored by the Coca-Cola company. The final photo in this collage is a parody of M.C. Escher’s pencil drawing “Hand with a Reflective Ball”, since I felt that by using the ball, he saw a new perspective to art, as did I, when I realized in my drafts that the sphere would give my position away in the photo.

My ad was created by using a commemorative anniversary can of Barbasol shaving cream, which inspired the tagline that accompanied it.

While most of my high-exposure photos were purposeful, the bright ascending line -which was actually the full moon - was a happy accident, though one I am most proud of. The rest were also my proudest pieces of the assignment, and as such, I present them here.

[differentwombatluminary]

Recycled Elephant Flip Flop Sculpture

Inhaltsverzeichnis

Embossed Wooden Elephant Trunk

Murano Glass Elephant Sculpture Midcentury, Italy, circa 1960

Ask an Interior Designer: Work

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The red granite obelisk was discovered in 1665 during excavations near the church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva. It had probably been brought to Rome in the first century AD for the temple to the Egyptian goddess Isis that was located there. The obelisk was originally erected by Pharaoh Apries of the Twenty-sixth Dynasty of Egypt, about 580 BC, in his capital Sais. This Painted Elephant Made In MetalEnamelPainting Work. We use quality approved paints in our entire process thereby ensuring in long durational life. Moreover, we offer them with customized solution.

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Murano Glass Elephant Sculpture Midcentury, Italy, circa 1960

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Ask an Interior Designer: Work

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[yandere-daydreams]

very loosely based on this post from @ddarker-dreams.

Scaramouche collects dolls.

He won't admit it's a collection (because a big, scary Harbinger would never actively seek out something as childish as dolls), nor have you ever heard him refer to them as anything other than 'antiques', you have working eyes, and you can see that the objects of his fixation are of a certain type, with a certain pasted, acquired through a certain method - always fished out of gutters or bought off the shelves of run-down pawn shops, repaired by Scaramouche's surprisingly adept hands, and posed in one of his many estates among other members of his collection. You think he sympathizes with them, an abandoned doll in his own right. You know that, despite his protests, he can't stand to see another discarded toy go forgotten.

None of his dolls go neglected, but of course, he has his dearests. He seems to prefer those of cloth and porcelain over wood and clay, favors the softened, simply-dressed babydolls you might find in a child's toy chest to the delicate, life-like figurines who'd be more at home behind glass. His absolute favorite looks quite a bit like you, and you've long since stopped trying to convince yourself that this fact was simply a terrible coincidence, even if you don't think you'll ever find the strength to admit it aloud.

It's the only doll that lives in his personal chambers, on its own little raised platform beside his vanity. You know better than to get rid of it (he'd once had each of a soldier's fingers broken for accidentally tearing the arm off a decaying ragdoll, and while you doubt he'd be so harsh with you, it doesn't seem wise to test your luck when it comes to comparing his sick obsession for you to the protectiveness he feels over his ever-growing hoard), but you try not to look into its glazed-over eyes, to avoid acknowledging the longmoment Scaramouche takes to run his fingers through its hair every morning while you pull a comb through his. On his demand, of course.

He seems to be under the impression that every doll needs a proper caretaker, and he's chosen you as his.

He has clothes tailored for it, too, a hand-stitched wardrobe that eerily mirrors yours. You've never caught him in the act, and you know he'd never let a servant touch anything so precious to him, and yet, it seems to be adorned in a new outfit every day, dressed in miniature kimonos or fur-trimmed coats equipped with every detail of the real garment - down to the red thread you often use to refasten loose button and torn clasps. The likeness is uncanny, the similarities too drastic to ignore. That might be why you loathe it as deeply as you do.

Once, while Scaramouche busy meeting with some nameless Snezhnayian offical, you'd found his doll displaced from its pedestal, left on the center of his bed, lying on its stomach, clothes disheveled and hair in a state of disarray. Out of solidarity with your fellow captive, you'd attempted to move it into a more dignified position, but your fingertips brushed against something cold and slick, your eyes falling to the translucent stains that ran in distinct stains across its fine clothes, and--

And, you hate it. You hate that it's another version of you, made small and helpless and delicate. You hate that it shares your face, and your clothes, and your subjugation underneath a man too cruel to treat even what he holds closest to him with kindness. You hate that there's nothing you can do to protect so much as a toy from Scaramouche.

You hate that there's nothing you can do to protect yourself from so much as a heartless, soulless, unfeeling doll.

[marshallpupfan]

As promised, here it is! The entirety of my Marshall collection!

I started this whole thing in 2019, back when I bought one single figurine to place in front of my computer monitor. Over time, as I became a bigger fan of Marshall and realized just how absolutely crazy I am about him, I ended up buying a few more things until... well, until it eventually became what you see here!

Also, let me tell you one other thing; I never realized just how much I had until I started rearranging/reorganizing a bunch of it! 😅

I figured I’d briefly talk about each section. So, let’s get started!

The majority of the plush dolls I own are on the right. They used to be located on the bottom of the big display case, but after I started to get so many more, I figured I’d transfer them to their own thing.

Some of the larger plush dolls are on the bottom (with some tiny dolls included because I couldn’t find spots for them elsewhere), and above are the ones that often get released during each new sub-series. Hopefully I’ll get to add the Rescue Knights plush soon, whenever it shows up. I just hope I can find a spot for it! lol

Though most of these are plush dolls, I reserved one shelf for miscellaneous items I couldn’t find spots for on the big display case.

Right in the middle is my TV, with a Ready Race Rescue poster above it. I also have some figurines here of various pups, though I’m hoping to add all of them some day (and perhaps others, like Claw). If you’re curious, my laptop is connected to my TV, and the image you’re seeing is my desktop wallpaper. 

I put that wooden wall art on this wall, along with the badges that came with some of the figurines. Things were a bit bare, so I printed off some of my favorite screenshots/pics of Marshall to go along with them! The one with the lucky collar is my favorite, since that smile he has there is simply the greatest thing ever. 😁

Now, onto the big display case.

The bottom two shelves house all of the vehicles I’ve collected. To make them appear nicer, I placed their respective figurines next to them. Some of the smaller ones, such as the True Metal vehicles, reside right below them.

The shelf above the vehicles has most of the figurines that’s released over the years. Can you believe Marshall’s worn so many different outfits? Fireman, EMT, Air Patrol, Mighty Pups, Dino Rescue, Pup-Fu, Moto Pups, Ultimate Rescues... the list just keeps growing!

Above that are other items I’ve managed to find, such as a snow globe, Christmas ornaments, ceramic piggy (puppy?) banks, an alarm clock, bobbleheads, a big color-changing lightbulb (that large head in the back-right), candy dispensers, bubble makers, shampoo bottles, among many other things!

And now, the last two shelves of the display case. 

The bottom one here has other misc. items I’ve collected, including lunch pails, a few Marshall-focused DVDs, Good2Grow Bottle Top heads (still missing one), more Christmas ornaments, coffee mugs, among other things. The thing in the middle is a light-up talking coin bank, which I actually imported from the UK (the first overseas item I added to my collection).

The very top houses some of the bigger plush dolls I couldn’t find room for on the right side. I included some others up there, just to fill up the empty space. There’s a few other jumbo plush dolls I hope to add here, whenever I can find them for a good price.

And last, but not least; this singular plush. It’s one of my favorites, so I like keeping him next to my bed. I suppose you could say I consider him a companion of sorts.

Well, there you have it! Pretty crazy collection, huh? There are still a few more things I’d like to do to spruce up the whole thing a bit, like make some better shelves (the one holding the figurines is starting to bend), and perhaps paint them so they’ll all match. For now, I’m quite happy with it, and I hope you guys enjoyed seeing it!

So yeah, needless to say, I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m totally crazy about Marshall! He really is my #1 favorite animated character of all time, and I feel this collection is a testament to not only that, but just how absolutely awesome/amazing I think he is! 😉

[myhauntedsalem]

What’s that in the Window? The Eerie Legend of the Janesville Doll

Janesville, Minnesota is a fine example of small town America. With a population of just over 2,000 people, it’s the kind of community you drive through at an easy pace—or pass by at a distance. Today, Highway 14 sidesteps Main Street Janesville entirely.

Still, until a few years ago, curiosity seekers followed the old Highway 14 route to 1st Street in search of a peculiar local mystery. Their destination? An unassuming house with an eerie figurine framed in the attic window, its blank stare peering out of the glass.

It was known as the Janesville Doll.

What was the secret of the Janesville Doll? Who put him there, and why? Dozens of explanations cropped up over the years—some more fanciful than others. Eventually, the small-town mystery transformed into a full-blown urban legend.

The story of the doll centers on the house’s owner and the death of the owner’s young daughter. Her demise changed depending on which account you heard; in some versions she succumbed to illness or a tragic accident, while in others her end was far grislier.

In one dark tale, the girl was abused and neglected by her family. Neighbors feared her; she soon became a prisoner of her attic room. There she would sit and stare out the attic window as the world passed by without her.

Overwhelmed with sorrow, the girl hanged herself. Her parents, realizing what they had done, placed the doll in the attic window as a memorial.

Soon there after, the Janesville Doll allegedly sprung to life.

Visitors claimed to see that the doll sometimes changed position, or that its placid expression transformed into anger, glaring at onlookers from behind the glass.

Such claims help explain a demonic twist to the Janesville Doll legend. This version also centers on the demise of a little girl in the house, but maintains that it was the result of demonic possession. The child died during an exorcism, and it was the demon itself that entered the doll—threatening to possess anyone who dared gaze into the doll’s eyes for too long.

As for the facts of the Janesville Doll case, they too remain shrouded in mystery. The home that housed the doll once belonged to man named Ward Wendt. Wendt was born in the house, and lived there until old age. He was reportedly a collector of antiques and train memorabilia. He placed the doll in the window sometime in 1976, never telling a soul why he did it.

According to Wendt, the house had belonged to his family since Janesville was founded, and nothing “exciting” had ever happened on the property. There appears to be no record of suspicious deaths or mysterious events associated with the house to give credence to the many tales surrounding the doll. In 2012, at the age of 84, Ward Wendt passed away, taking the secret of the Janesville Doll to his grave.

Or maybe not. One final tale about the doll might hold the key to the mystery. The same year the doll first appeared in the window of Wendt’s home, Janesville buried a time capsule in a nearby park in honor of the United States Bicentennial. In that time capsule, Wendt is said to have placed a note in which he reveals his reasons for putting the doll in the window.

The only catch? The time capsule is not scheduled to be unearthed until 2176.

After Wendt’s death, the Janesville Doll was moved from the attic window to a special showcase in the Janesville Library. A Facebook account and MySpace page have since cropped up in honor of the legendary figurine. Whether it continues to inspire strange stories and paranormal reports among the library stacks, only time will tell.

[boopshoops]

The Dolls of the Great Pine Tree

"Once upon a time, there was a great pine tree in the depths of a far off island near the Land of Dawning.

Embedded deep in its roots were magic stones, causing the tree to grow and grow and grow far taller than any of the surrounding forest.

Visitors would often come to the pine tree in order to train their magical abilities: from far and wide. From beast men, to merfolk, to humans and fae. It was even rumored to have healing capabilities.

Even the dead visited the great tree.

One day, two ghosts visited the great tree. Imbued with magical energy just as all the visitors before them, they had never felt more alive. Filled with nostalgia, they were reminded of their years among the living.

When they had first met, fallen in love, met friends, found new sights to see, new experiences to be had. They cherished those moments deep in their hearts.

Now, being among the dead, they wondered, "Would other ghosts, born of the spectral realm without ever having interacted with the living world, truly ever understand such a wonderful feeling?"

For you see, the couple were expecting a child. Quite the miracle, no?

The two were suddenly filled with dread and guilt, feeling as though they were robbing their child of life. They gazed back up at the ginormous tree, imbued with a healthy, ethereal glow. Bathed in beautiful colors. The spectral realm was quite the opposite, devoid of such beauty, or at least the couple thought so.

One of the ghosts asked aloud, "Do you believe it would be possible to give our child something close to the gift of life? I could only wish for it to be so."

...And something stirred, deep beneath the earth, reverberating through the roots of the tree.

A mysterious visitor answered aloud, "Why, haven't you heard? Us ghosts, through the power of the stones, can possess parts of this great wood. We can feel, see, smell, and hear all the wonders of the living realm, why, I'm sure if someone were to somehow gather it's wood, you would have all the power needed to give your child exactly that."

The couple was startled, exchanging glances. Gather its wood? Many have tried, and all have failed! However, they knew the suspicious stranger's words to be true. It was the main reason they had visited the forest, after all. The only struggle was that it was hard to move freely in the entanglement of branches.

As if reading their very minds, the unfamiliar phantom spoke again, "Why, I'm sure it is possible. Over years and years, the branches have shifted. It is difficult to move, but not impossible. Why, I'd even be inclined to help you as long as I could have some of the wood as well."

The couple politely declined.

But the idea stuck in their minds for years to come, even after they had had their child.

But during those years they curiously returned, bringing family and friends alike. Oddly enough, the stranger was there every time, providing assistance, for they gradually and slowly split and took parts of the wood.

The father, a carpenter, found that possessing the wood after refining and shaping it was still possible.

The mother, a maker of trinkets and figurines, found that the wood would take shape to whatever outer shell it was put inside.

With these discoveries, their desire for life was too strong to be put aside. Yet the tree began to warp, twist, and bend unnaturally.

"Don't worry!" The now familiar, suspicious friend began, "I live in these woods and visit the tree every day. Its magic is as strong as the day I first laid eyes on it."

The individual, who had since provided them and their family a lot of aid, was difficult to distrust. After all, they had given them so much. Every time they came, they gave them wood. Every time they came, they offered words of wisdom that always proved true.

However, twigs and branches began to fall to the earth, snatched up by whoever was lucky enough to get to it first. It was discolored and stiff, nearly hard as stone. But alas, they'd come so far now. Surely, with some extra wood working, everything would be fine.

Finally, after six long years. The mother had constructed many beautiful dolls, in which much of the healthy, refined wood fit perfectly.

The father had carved and carved away, ensuring that each joint bent perfectly and smoothly, and that everything was comfortable.

The child simply watched during these many years, awaiting promises of things they could only ever dream of.

When their job was nearly complete, the mysterious friend arrived, speaking up to ask for a puppet of their own.

"You see," They began, "I did not live a long life. I was struck down early. I know it is a lot to ask for, but I would be eternally grateful. Likewise, I would gladly accompany your daughter, teaching her the ways of the living."

The couple was unsure. Their daughter had all their support and love, yet they did not have enough wood to provide for the both of them. They could not teach her everything she needed to know. After all, it was practically unheard of: two ghosts raising a human child.

With the agreement to allow the healthier wood to go to their child and to remain in close contact with her, they crafted another body for their mysterious friend.

When all was well and done, there was only one thing left to do.

"Consider it a blessing," said their friend, "After all, humans can't leave their bodies whenever they please." The couple hesitantly agreed, only ever wanting to give their child the most human experience they could. Now, once a ghost possessed the wooden frame, they could not leave until the spell was broken.

The day arrived soon after. The day the two would possess their new bodies. Crafted only out of love and care: two puppet-like dolls.

However, the couple were not aware at the time that the wooden frames had been swapped: giving their daughter the one that appeared to be on the verge of rot.

When the possession commenced at the base of the tree, their "friend" immediately sprung up, good as new. They leapt and ran and danced about, bathing in the sensations of the living world made new.

Yet, the child's body did not move.

"Do not worry, I'm sure she will adjust soon!" The friend replied.

But days and days passed, without her even blinking an eye.

The couple and their family visited every day, with their "friend" arriving less and less. More and more of the tree began to wither and fall, until there was barely even a tree left at all.

A week went by. A month, a year.

And the ghost's body didn't move an inch, with her spirit stuck inside.

The family went into a period of grieving, thinking to themselves how selfish and foolish they were. How were they supposed to know that a being which was already dead could experience something so close to death?

A small part of them held hope, however, as the years flew by, and the puppet sat sleeping soundly and what was now only a stump.

Grief came and went, a grave was carefully crafted with love. Flowers were offered by the entirety of the family, each as a symbol of an apology.

As years and years passed, the visits became less frequent. Even the tree was eventually forgotten.

Oh, hundreds of years the family visited her for. What started as visiting every day became every month, every year.

Alas, my dear child. Please know that we have not forgotten you. We never will. We are so truly, deeply, sorry.

Sincerely,

Giorno Pinacirco and Viola Cira.

In loving memory of Isola Pinacirco-Cira. 1883-1889"

.

.

.

Marble eyes scanned over the words written in the journal laid at the grave where she awoke.

She could not remember her youth, but alas,

The girl awoke alone, knowing she was loved.

----

MWAHAHAHA SHE'S HEREEEE SHE'S COMING SOON!!! I'll be posting her ref and official introduction when the Playful Land event begins in EN!! Stay tuned!!! reblogs would be appreciated given ihaventwritteninahotsecondugfdbsiguf

Tag list!

@skriblee-ksk @lowcallyfruity @kitwasnothere @cecilebutcher @justm3di0cr3

@scint1llat3 @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @techno-danger @the-trinket-witch

@qsoap @beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto

@sillyslipperybananapeel @tixdixl @twstinginthewind

[buglife]

How about festivals and celebrations? Not only the regal, noble type, but the ones of common bugs too.

Here are a couple I figured out with a quick overview. I may expand on these later with illustrations or more depth depending on time and interest.

PART 1 - Pre-Infection Holidays

The Cast Off Festival: Something akin to a new years resolution. Once a year the citizens of Hallownest make an effigy of something they want to ‘cast off’ of themselves so they can improve. Example, they may make a figurine that represents self laziness or something that represents a nasty temper. Some folks may make tokens or figurines to sell that people can purchase if they cannot or don’t want to make their own. Celebrations include food and rituals indicative of purifying yourself to allow the new you to get a foothold over the old. Everyone gets together at the end of the celebration to throw said effigies into a communal fire and let the wind carry the ashes away. Just like how the Pale King cast off his previous form of a Wyrm to walk among the people and lead them to a much better existence, so too would common bugs follow that example to better themselves as well. Bugs may just have one effigy and some may have a whole box of them, the point is to give yourself a fresh new start and leave your old baggage holding you back as mere ashes. In general, it’s a very happy celebration in that you have a new chance to make the changes you want and if you have to do the same thing again next year, that’s okay. It takes time to change. The important part is that you recognize something about yourself that does need improvement and make a promise to work on it. 

Feast of Fellowship: It’s not far fetched to imagine that even after granted Sapience, some bugs that were regularly preyed upon may have lingering instincts that may make interacting with carnivorous citizens a big nerve wracking. To counter act this, there is a yearly feast where folks are encouraged to share company and food with each other to not only celebrate the bounty from the harvest, but also the fact that many different kinds of bugs worked together to produce it. Spiders, Millipedes, Flies, Moths, ect ect, can all have a feast together and enjoy each other’s company. Takes place after the biggest harvest of the year so there is an abundance of food to go around that can be eaten up fresh before they must be preserved. Entire villages would just have one communal feast where everyone can share and enjoy. In big cities, usually these are more private with friends and colleagues being invited but I wouldn’t put it past a crown funded feast for everyone in the Capital. Citizens that are happy after all, are less likely to cause any trouble when they are busy sleeping off the biggest meal of the year. Lol.

Life Festival: A celebration for those wanting to be parents, those that have children, and those that have parents they love. It’s a day of fond wishes and hopes to be able to have healthy young. Different species have children in different ways, but it all comes down to the same thing, the want to reproduce. The day is spent lighting candles and leaving little offerings in the hopes to become gravid if trying to be. It is also a day for current parents to honor their offspring and be grateful to be blessed with them. Some take this day to grieve and honor any lost children and thank them for being there, even if it was for a short amount of time. Parents to be take the nights to be ‘extra sure’ their wishes will stick, if you know what I mean ;3. It can be rather bittersweet but it is important to many people. Children, however, take the day to honor the parents that gave them life, and there’s usually gift exchanges between parents and children. In general, it’s a celebration of life given and the gratitude of it all. 

Birthdays are dependent on species and specific culture. Some celebrate when the egg actually hatches as a birthday. Some celebrate the day they emerge from their pupa an instar molt as the ‘birthday’. Still, there would be some sort of celebration where a child gets a celebration to mark another year of life. Complete with sweets and presents. It’s a big deal, as bugs before rarely made it past the nymph stage of life. It certainly is something to celebrate. 

Celebration of Flight: For flying species, where the young take their first ritual flight to mark an important moment of their development. Non flying bugs are present as well and participate by offering support to their friends and family taking their first flight without any help. 

Celebration of Weaving: For Spiders to show off their very first silk weavings and crafts and getting the praise they deserve. Primarily a Deepnest holiday. 

Celebration of ____: If a species is known for a thing, you better believe they are going to have a cellebration around it! Digging, rolling, fighting, spitting, climbing, ect ect. There’s so many different kinds of bugs!

Mate Day: Bring your mate offerings so they don’t get cranky and try to bite anyone. Especially you. You better make them feel like the most special bug in existence. 

King/Queen’s Day: Two days at different times of the year to celebrate the King and his lovely tree wife. Queen’s day is in ‘Spring’, and King’s day is ‘Winter’. Think of ‘Captain Picard Day’ in the TNG for the idea. Kids make little dolls and pictures and costumes and run around while parents buy them little King/Queen shaped sweets and participate in events run by the crown. Tours of the Palace take place in order to bring more transparency to the public. Both days would involve charity work depending on the ruler’s taste. Example, the Queen might sponsor a beatification effort by planting flowers and bushes around the kingdom and the King may just ask for groups to go around and clean up litter. Citizen bugs outside the Capital/major cities still would have their own home celebrations, perhaps just saying prayers of thanks or just cleaning around their village. Dolls and plushies are typically sold a lot and it’s not uncommon for children to have at least one doll of either the King, Queen, or both. There is a lottery where any citizen can participate, where winners may go before the Royals without having to fight through normal court to request some sort of help for either themselves or another organization. Royalty and Nobility have a separate feast afterwards, where there is a lot of ass kissing and the monarchs just want to eat their din dins and go the hell to bed please.

Day of Spirits: A day to honor and remember the dead. Offerings are set out for deceased loved ones and graves/memorials are carefully cleaned and put to order. It’s a time to remember those you love that are gone and give them honor by showing that you are continuing to live and remember them. There are usually parties where representations are included so the spirits of those gone are invited to participate in said party. It’s a day for laughter and love, not for grief. It’s said on this day the veil between the living and dead and thin, so you can directly tell your gone loved ones whatever you like and they have the greatest chance of hearing it. 

Honey Festival: All things Honey. The Hive makes SO MUCH GEO during a week long Festival. They may not be part of the Kingdom but boy howdy, does everyone love honey and wax products. 

Remembrance Days: Days to remember any well known person, such as visionaries, inventors, people who generally did a lot of good, and others. Bugs that did a lot of good for bugkind are remembered and honored in their own little celebrations. Usually it means that government offices shut down to give their workers a much needed break. 

OF COURSE: There doesn’t need to be a reason for a celebration. Dances and ‘Ho Down’ style celebrations can spring up for any reason. Some villages have their own little celebration days and all it takes is one person setting up some music and drinks and you got a party.  For moral, it’s common for there to be at least one celebration every ‘month/moon/cycle’ to keep up spirits and have at least a bit of time to relax. 

[skygirl5]

12 Prompts of Christmas - #6 Presents

SIX - Presents

Sipping on his third cup of coffee of the morning, Castle sat patiently on the sofa in his office as he watched his sons squeal with joy as they enjoyed their new Christmas presents. Both wore a Batman helmet that came down just over their eyes, giving them the iconic caped crusader look. The helmets were a bit big and bobbled around on their heads, especially Reese’s, but neither seemed to mind very much. And, of course, they had to get two helmets, because all highly desirable items needed to be duplicated or there would be fighting. At least they’d learned that much in five years.

The boys squealed as they chased each other—Jake after Reese this time—and called out “I am Batman!” in the deepest, gruffest voices they could manage. Sensing he should add a little kerosene to their fire, he stood up and said, “It’s the Joker here, and I’m out to get you Batman!” The boys yelped and ran from the office into the bedroom with Castle nipping at their heels. They circled through the living room area, laughing and screaming as they went, and then finally landed back in the office where they dive-bombed their pile of new comic book figurines.

Castle had really only started introducing them to comics about a year earlier, staring out slow, testing the waters to gauge their interest—and making sure he picked as age-appropriate ones as he could. Though he’d tried not to be bias in any way, Jake had really taken an interest in batman, and of course since Reese seemed to want everything his older-by-three-minutes brother wanted, he decided to like Batman as well. Castle didn’t really care which superhero they chose; he was just so happy to watch them discover and explore new things.

While the boys played with their new Batmobile figurines, Castle finished his coffee and then decided to start picking up some of the toy packaging strewn across the room. He grabbed one of the garbage bags he’d previously set out and then crouched down to pick things up, in doing so felt a pinch in his left hip. He winced, stood upright again, and rubbed it with the flat of his hand. It was the same hip he’d been sitting on that morning as they gathered under the tree to open gifts, so he supposed he might have tweaked something. Everyone had warned him that having young kids in his mid-fifties was never going to be easy, and they were right; it wasn’t, but he wouldn’t have given it up for the world.

After gathering up all he could, he carried the trash bag towards the kitchen, catching a glimpse of Kate and Lily playing with her new American Girl doll and accessories. Kate looked up as he passed and he gave her a wink. She smiled back at him and then lifted up one of her hands to feather through their daughter’s hair.

Their older their children grew, the more interesting the Castle family Christmases became. Well, really, it was just the older the twins became; Lily had always been a relatively calm child. Now that the boys were bigger and louder, they would never have a demure Christmas morning again. In fact, if they managed to get all the kids to only open their own gifts and not slap each other around in the process, it was a win.

Mornings like that one reminded Castle just how starkly different his life was then than it had been when he was growing up. When he’d been a kid, Christmas morning generally didn’t happen, because his mother had been out late performing the night before. That was assuming she was actually home with him and not on tour, which had happened a few times. If she was home, Christmas “morning” was more like Christmas “after lunch”. His mother would get up, sometimes with a paramour in tow, and make coffee and some food. Then they’d sit beneath her plastic, table-top-sized tree and exchange gifts. Not to say that he disliked these days by any means. His mother always made it fun in one way or another. There certainly was no other mother quite like Martha Rodgers. Most importantly: he had always felt very loved and cared for, even if there hadn’t been enough money to buy him more than new underwear and socks and a new book or two.

Castle remembered that he was around the boys’ age when he first started wishing that his father would show up for Christmas. At that point, his knowledge about his father was limited. “He’s not a part of our lives,” was Martha’s token line. He didn’t find out any more details surrounding his conception until he was around thirteen. As a young boy with an unusually creative imagination, Castle had already begun to paint various extravagant scenarios about what his father might have been doing that explained why he couldn’t be a part of their lives. Chief among those ideas were: astronaut, rodeo clown, and spy. Of course, he had no way of knowing at the time, but he’d actually been correct on that last guess.

For most of the year, Castle daydreamed about what activities his father might be up to that kept them apart. Around Christmas, however, those dreams turned to wishes that his father might just show up at their apartment one day around the holidays and they’d be able to hang out. All this friends at school talked about what they did with their fathers and he wanted to experience that too. Sadly, that never came to be. Still, Castle couldn’t be upset, because he knew that he was the man he was because of the fact that he grew up without a father.

With that being said, he was so glad that his younger children were growing up with not only two parents, but many other family members who loved them. Especially for his sons, Castle tried to be a strong male role model who taught them to be kind and gentlemanly even from their young age. He planned to always be there for them and never miss one major event in their life for as long as he lived.

“Daddy!” Jake called out, looking over to his father with his sparkling blue eyes. “Will you play too?” he asked holding up one of the Batmobiles.

Grinning, Castle dropped to his hands and knees and crawled over. He gave Jake a tickle at the back of his neck and the boy giggled happily. “Of course, Jakey—I’ll always play with you. Always.”

~

A/N - this concludes the “canon universe” Christmas fic, but dont worry i still have 6 more prompts to go!!

[sinner-as-saint]

Bad Guy.

Mafia! Bucky AU

Requested by @millennialdisaster a.k.a my Baseball Bat Anon who sent a cute request a while ago.

I’m sorry this took so long, love. I hope you liked it! ily

 Run-through: The world is a bad place, cities and town alike are now filled with violence and bad people. And in the middle of it all, Bucky Barnes finds love where it wasn’t supposed to be.

 Themes: smut, violence, slight gore elements, fluff

 The night sky, an obsidian tapestry, acted as a witness to all the sin that went down in the city. At night time, all the sinners prowled, lurked in the shadows – hunting.

Deals sealed among gang members. Mobsters killing away anyone who opposed them – protecting what they swore to protect; be it family, or just pride.

Drugs. Money, sex and power were all people cared about. The world was a bad place.

During daytime, the city was somewhat safe. However, at night; it became a playground for all the devils who inhabited the city.

Among those devils, was Bucky Barnes. Powerful, filthy rich and feared – he was the ultimate King of the underworld.

A mob, mafia, gang leader – he had many titles.

Bucky had everything he ever wanted; wealth, power, loyalty from those who worked with and for him. Yet, the one thing he never got was the true love of a woman.

After all, the King needed his Queen to complete him.

However, his wish was soon granted.

 ---

 It was a regular night for Bucky. Having sealed a promising deal with his ally – Wilson, and little bit of alcohol in his system; Bucky made his way home.

He would probably stop by some brothel and find a beautiful woman to warm his bed for the night. However, no matter how pretty, they could never fill the void he experienced.

 He walked to his car, which was parked a little far away from the club he was stepping out of, surrounded by three of his guys, when he heard a few shouts – followed by the sound of metal crashing on the concrete ground.

At first, neither him nor his guys thought much of it. They thought that it was probably some drunkard being kicked out of one of the many shabby pubs.

However, Bucky stopped in his tracks when he heard the voice of a woman. A young one at that. It sounded like she was in pain, or in trouble.

Bucky couldn’t walk away knowing a woman was in danger, so he signaled his guys to follow him. Two of them cocked their guns and held it at the ready while one walked behind him.

Bucky’s hand lingered on the gun at his waist as him and his little crew approached the source of the voice.

 “In that alley way, boss. Right by the dumpster,” one of his men spoke in a hushed voice.

A sound of something hard hitting the dumpster could be heard, followed by the grunting of a male voice. Whoever this woman was, she was surely being manhandled by a man.

 Bucky sure was a practitioner of evil but he wasn’t entirely heartless. Having being raised in a family where his ruthless father used his mother as a punching bag; Bucky was not one to allow violence against women.

And whoever this man was, Bucky and his men would surely teach him a lesson of a lifetime.  

 As they neared the alley, they could hear the pants and groans of someone being in pain. One of his men ran to the dumpster and lowered his gun immediately – as if there was no need to shoot someone. He motioned for the others to march forward.

Bucky frowned at the weird gesture and walked towards him anyways.

 Upon reaching where his guy stood, Bucky could not believe his eyes.

The situation was the opposite of what he thought it’d be. Being mercilessly beaten with what seemed to be a baseball bat, was a man – on the concrete ground, writhing in pain and groaning as he was being repeatedly hit on the head.

And the one standing above him, beating the shit out of the man, was you. Your hair fell around your face, so Bucky could not see who the badass chick was.

He studied your form. Legs clad in dark jeans, a simple white t-shirt – with a few drops of blood on it. Upon seeing the blood, Bucky was concerned.

He took a few steps towards you, but since you were busy beating someone with a baseball bat, you didn’t notice.

 “…I swear if you ever steal from my pub again, I will shove this bat so far up your a-,”

 “That’s enough, doll, he’s unconscious already,” Bucky cut you off, approaching your agitated frame with caution and watch how you slowly looked up at him.

Panting, you stared into his blue eyes with your e/c ones. And once you did, he could’ve sworn the world around him got a few shades brighter.

He noticed you didn’t recognize him right away. He wondered why.

 “Fucking deserved it, this piece of shit walked in like he fucking owned it and took my entire day’s earning,” you panted as you complained to him.

While stepping away from the thief’s bleeding body, you kicked his side and his body laid limp on the ground.

Bucky held back a chuckled as his brain registered your colorful speech. You were something else. Most women he knew always pretended as though they needed to be protected and kept like a glass figurines, but you – you seemed like you were used to fighting your own fights.

And he liked that. Very much.

 Bucky watched how you bent down and searched the thief’s pockets for the money that he took from you. He watched how you smiled in triumph once you found a thick bundle of notes in the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

Bucky was about to say something, but then a certain mark caught his eye. Right at the base of the thief’s neck was a tattoo. A skull, below which were six tentacles spread out.

Definitely not a random tattoo. This was a criminal mark – to show one’s loyalty towards HYDRA.

HYDRA; a notorious organization who only acquired power by snatching it and ruining lives of the innocent, and they were Bucky Barnes’ most flagrant rival.

 Bucky didn’t know how to react. A girl just took on a HYDRA goon, alone; with just a baseball bat. Damn.

 “Step away doll, this is no regular thief. This guy’s a HYDRA goon. You’re lucky we found you, if it were HYDRA, you would be in their dungeon by now,” Bucky spoke and watched how realization slowly hit you.

 You looked at him for a moment then at his men. Your eyes slowly trailed down to where his metal was, at his side and he saw how fear flashed in your fiery eyes.

 You clutched the bundle of money to your chest and started backing away, slowly, from him and his crew.

The dimmed lights of the streets allowed him to get a good look at you. You were pretty. Very pretty.

Then he noticed the blood trailing down your chin. He furrowed his eyebrows at you.

 “You’re bleeding, doll. He hurt you?” Bucky asked, while his men grinned as they picked up the limp body of the goon off the ground. Of course, they had finally found a member belonging to the rivals – they were just happy that they would get to torture him and get every secret out of him.

 You froze to the ground as Bucky approached you. He walked in your direction until he was standing right in front of you, not far from his men.

He extended his metal arm and touched your face, the cold metal against your warm skin felt oddly soothing, and you stuttered when you tried to talk.

 “You’re B-Bucky Barnes, aren’t you? I-I’m sorry, you can have the money, sir. Please don’t hurt me, I-,” the flows of your weak words came to a halt as he traced the skin around the cut on your lip.

You watched how intently he observed the cut on the side of your lip, and how lazily his eyes roamed your face while he caressed your skin.

Dressed in a dark suit, tall and power flowing around him, wrapping him in an invisible cocoon – he sure as hell looked intimidating. Yet, his touch was gentle.

You had heard about him several times before. The city you lived in was more or less entirely a terrain for men like him. Rich, powerful men who only knew the language of violence.

 There were stories about how he got his infamous, prosthetic metal arm. Some believed his lost his arm in an accident. Others said that he was once captured when he was young, and tortured in the basement of his enemies. Then when his family got him back, the arm was attached to him, and he had no recollection of what had happened to him.

And many more.

No one knew the truth. Few people ever saw him in person. And now, you were among the few.

 The man chuckled at your words. It was the only audible sound apart from your heartbeats which rang in your ear.

 “I don’t want the money, doll. You’re bleeding, you should get it cleaned before it gets infected. Come on, let me drop you home. You live around here?” he asked, lowering his hand back at his sides as he realized that he had been cradling your face for too long and it was beginning to get awkward and weird.

 Your eyes widened at his suggestion.

 “I- no, sir. There’s no need. I’ll manage, I-,”

 “I wasn’t asking, doll. It’s not a safe area for a girl to be on her own. Although, you definitely are very capable of looking out for yourself but I insist, let me drop you home. Or your pub, whichever you prefer,” he spoke again, a faint smile on his face.

You dared to admit that the man the news called the ‘King of the underworld’, was rather handsome. With some of his long, dark locks pulled back into a little bun, and his perfect beard – he looked like every girl’s dream.

And his eyes… the darkness of the night and of his outfit complimented the ocean blue eyes he had.

 You mentally scolded yourself for admiring such a man. But you couldn’t help yourself. He was, indeed, very dreamy.

But, still, you couldn’t accept his offer. People talked a lot in this city, and every girl who was seen with men of Bucky Barnes’ caliber, were often given labels. Bad labels.

 “Really, I’ll be fine. I could walk home, I don’t live far from-,”

 “What’s your name?” he abruptly cut your rambling off.

 “Y/N,”

 “Listen, Y/N. You just beat the hell out of a HYDRA goon. Who knows, maybe he was keeping an eye on me for a while now. You just saved me so much trouble, doll. Plus, you’re hurt. The least I can do it see to it that you reach home safely. Who knows, maybe HYDRA is even keeping an eye on you,”

Okay, he totally exaggerated the last part. But he only did it just so you would agree to his suggestion. Bucky was enchanted. You were beautiful, strong, kept your calm and were a total badass.

You were the kind of woman he hoped to have by his side. And he was not letting you go just yet.

 Your eyes widened as he said the last words.

 “So, please, let me escort you home,” you noticed that the three men turned their heads at the same time to look back at the two of you.

They were, shamelessly, eavesdropping.

 You nodded. You feared HYDRA just like any other civilian of the city, and now, having injured one of them – you were very scared.

  “He’s not dead, is he?” you asked as you watched how the men carried the limp body of the goon and walked in front of you and Bucky.

You held the baseball bat in your hand and the bundle of money in the other hand as you walked alongside Bucky on the pavement.

The night was getting a bit cold, and your t-shirt was barely keeping you warm.

 He chuckled.

“He’s not, doll. Not yet. Thanks to you, I now have an enemy in my grasp. I should thank you,” he spoke, a playful tone lacing his words.

 “Oh, well, you’re welcome, sir,” you spoke as you neared two black cars.

 Bucky ordered two of his men to take the goon to his mansion and told them to have their ‘fun’ but keep him ‘alive’ until he got there. They walked away and threw the goon in the back and drove off in the first car.

The third guy sat at the driver’s seat of the second car and waited for you two to get in.

 You watched how Bucky opened the car door for you and you immediately rushed inside as the air got colder.

Once you settled against the leather seat, you dropped the baseball bat at your feet and tucked the bundle of money in the pocket of your jeans.

Bucky walked around the car and got inside as well. He sat beside you and you noticed how he very subtly inched closer to you.

 “Where to, miss?” the guy in the driver’s seat asked.

 “Uh, drive straight and take the next right. Then another left and my pub should be there,” you gave him the directions and he nodded in understanding.

Once the engine purred, you leaned against the leather seat and shivered. You were cold and the man beside you noticed.

Without a word said, he removed the dark jacket of his suit and held it in front of you.

 “Oh no, I’m good, sir. I don’t-,”

 “Okay one, call me Bucky. And two, I can tell you’re cold, doll. Just take it,” he watched the slight tremble in your lip as you hesitantly accepted it.

You leaned forward and slipped your arms through the sleeves and once it was around your body, you immediately snuggled into it.

Bucky watched you with a faint smile on his face. Seeing you in his clothes did things to him, and he didn’t know how to explain it.

It felt…right.

 You subtly sniffed his jacket. It smelt nice. Fresh, strong and powerful. Exactly what you thought mob bosses smell like.

 Soon, with a few turns, the car stopped right outside your pub. It was still lit, which meant that even after you took off running after the goon, your friend was still working.

You didn’t get out of the car immediately. You slowly removed the jacket and handed it back to him. You smiled politely as you did so.

 He took it back and gave you a small smile.

  “Go on, I’ll be waiting. I’m gonna drop you home after,”

 You opened you mouth to tell him that it was fine and that he shouldn’t bother but he beat you to it.

 “Again, I wasn’t asking, doll,” he spoke again, a smirk on his gorgeous face.

 Good lord…

There was not a single flaw on the man’s face. Everything about him was perfect. The crinkles by his eyes, his beard, his tired yet dreamy eyes – he was beautiful. And equally as dangerous.

 You shut up, and made your way out of his car. As you walked up the couple of steps and walked inside the pub, you felt a glare on your back. And surprisingly, you didn’t mind.

 Walking inside the pub, you were immediately tackled by your co-worker. She held you tight in her arms and told you how worried she was after you took off running.

You narrated the entire story to her, while the two of you gathered your stuff and prepared to close down.

  Through the glass windows, Bucky watched how you gracefully moved across the pub; securing your bag on your shoulder and your jacket in your hand.

In the dimmed golden lights, you looked divine. Bucky watched in awe how you hugged your friend goodbye.

 “Never seen you look at a woman like that before, boss. She’s special, I believe,” commented his guy who was in the driver’s seat.

Bucky chuckled and lowered his eyes for a moment before looking at you again.

 “She’s not like the rest,” he said, smiling and watched how you made you way towards his car again. Wind blowing through your hair and he caught the bruise which was forming around your soft lips.

 Bucky sighed. And his heartbeat quickened when you got in beside him and gave him a polite smile.

   That night, after he dropped you off. Bucky somehow managed to convince you to let him in so he could tend to the cut on your lips.

At that point, the two of you knew that he was doing all this to be close to you. And while his heart did a little victory dance when you agreed to let him help you; you wondered why a man like him would even want to be around an ordinary girl like you.

 Bucky followed you to your bathroom, and stood in front of you while he examined the cut on your lip. Your lower back pressed against the counter as his body was merely a few centimeters away from yours.

He grabbed a cotton pad and wet it with water and cleaned the wound gently. Normally, you would wince at the sting but since all you could do was focus on how close he was, you didn’t make a sound.

 “You live here alone, doll?” he asked, eyes on your mouth and face frowning in concentration. His warm hand was placed on your cheek while his metal hand cleaned the cut.

 “Me and Colby,” you whispered as his eyes flicked to yours and then quickly back to the wound. His body inched forward. And suddenly, you had trouble breathing.

 “That’s your guy? Boyfriend?” he asked again, placing the cotton pad down and picking up the antiseptic lotion from the kit. He picked up another cotton pad and squeezed some of the lotion onto it.

 “No, that’s- Colby is my pit bull,” you watched how flustered Bucky got when you cleared his misunderstanding. Guess that’s what happens when you give your dog human names.

 “Oh,” was all Bucky said before getting back at cleaning your wound. He leaned in closer to your face and applied the lotion very gently.

You tried to look away from his face because he was making you breathless. So, you stared downwards. Bad idea.

His lower body was merely inches away from yours and it might’ve been your brain messing with you but it seemed as though there was a bulge forming in there.

You found yourself fantasizing about him again.

Given his reputation, there’s no way that he enters people’s home and cleans their wounds often. Then why was he so concerned with you?

Would he ask for something in return? Like the other men in his profession did?

 You were aware of how the society had become. You had heard the stories of how certain mobsters granted women favors; jobs, money, or save them from any trouble. But then in return, they would ask them to-

 “…suck on it,” you heard his voice and your eyes immediately moved from staring at his lower region. He was now staring at you – his face just inches away. He was so close that you could see the flares of grey in his eyes. He must have noticed that you were staring at his- well, down there.

Did he just-

“Pardon?” you must have misheard him, right? Unless…

 “I said, get an ice cube and suck on it. It’ll reduce the swelling,” he completed his sentence and had you feeling like a desperate idiot.

 “Right. Yes, I will. Thank you, for everything,” you thanked him and he just smirked; but didn’t moved.

He leaned in and placed both of his hands on either side of you, leaning slightly against the counter behind you – trapping you between his muscular body and the counter.

You looked into his blue eyes and your thoughts were a hot mess. Jesus, why did he have to be so handsome?

 “Take care, doll. I’ll have my people make sure nobody messes with your pub again. Good night,” he whispered, leaned in and kissed the other side of your mouth. Lips dangerously close to yours, your heartbeats shot up when he allowed his lips to linger on your skin. His beard stabbed your skin a little bit, but weirdly, you liked it.

He smirked when he saw how hot and bothered you got just by one simple touch of his. And he knew this wasn’t the last time his lips would be on you.

  He bade you goodbye and walked out of the house. As soon as you heard his car driving away, you also heard your puppy finally coming out of his hiding spot. For a pit bull, he sure was shy.

He ran to you in the bathroom and you picked him up, kissing him carefully on top of his head.

 “He’s so dreamy, isn’t he? Oh my God Colby, am I falling for the bad guy?” you asked your pup and he just stared at you.

  Turned out, you were.

 ---

 For the next few days, you couldn’t get Bucky out of your mind. He even stopped by a few times, at the pub. And one of his men were always keeping a watch over you.

It was weird in the beginning, but then you got used it. it made you feel safer.

He would order one pint of beer and spend the next hour talking to you. He was a big flirt, and he even told you about how they ‘handled’ the goon.

Then one day, while taking casually, he finally dropped the bomb.

 “Can I take you out on a date, doll?”

 You stared at him in disbelief. Then laughed. And agreed.

 ---

 The date went by just fine. And as cliché as it was, you found yourself falling for the bad guy.

 While casually talking about the recent activities in the city, Bucky made a suggestion.

 “It’s a tough world out there, why don’t you let me teach you how to defend yourself? I mean, the baseball bat is not really that handy. Maybe guns, fighting techniques and all that,” he sipped on his glass of red wine and watched you intently.

You smiled.

 “What makes you think I would want that?” you questioned, a spark in your eyes.

 “Because I see who you truly are. You like danger, there’s this excitement in your eyes every time you stared at my revolver. Y/N, you weren’t afraid to take on a HYDRA goon in an alley way, all on your own. That’s pretty impressive. You have skills, you’re a natural,”

Seems like he was quite the observer.

Bucky noticed how your eyes would linger on the shiny metal of his gun each time he was around you.

You chuckled.

 “I did that because I didn’t know he was one of HYDRA, believe me, all I did was hit him in the head repeatedly, until he passed out. How did you even know he was one of HYDRA’s goons?”

You liked his idea, but you were also a bit hesitant.

People normally tend to stay as far away as possible from men like Bucky. But here you were, on a date with him – in his kitchen; having dinner which he made for you.

 “The mark, on his neck. The HYDRA mark. See, I could teach you all that. If you let me,” he spoke again, leaning onto the kitchen island.

You sat up straight in the stool and faced him with a smirk.

 “Then? You teach me all that then, what? You’re gonna make me become a bounty hunter?” you asked, smirking still.

By now, it was probably the wine speaking.

 Bucky chuckled and shook his head.

 “No, of course not. But all that will help while you’re with me,” he raised an eyebrow at you.

You didn’t quite get what he meant.

 “Okay you’re amazing, but the last thing I want, is to be part of your gang Mr. Barnes. I’m fine with bartending, really,”

 Bucky smiled, and placed his metal hand over yours on the surface of the counter.

 “Not part of my gang, sugar. Mine. I want you to be my girl,” he corrected your misunderstanding. There was a promise in his eyes as he spoke, along with a sense of playfulness.

He was serious, and he needed an answer.

You thought it over for a while.

Then agreed.

 ---

 Initially, you were over at Bucky’s place every few days. Days filled with excessive flirting, lingering touches and training.

He taught you the basics; how to spot HYDRA goons, how to fire a gun, and self-defense moves.

You learnt all about his past, and how he was practically forced to become who he is. He initially wanted to become an artist, but his father crushed his dreams and handed him a shotgun when he was only 12.

 Then later on, your training shifted to more intense stuff; handling blades and sparring. Your relationship with Bucky morphed into something much more stable as well. And the lingering touches turned into steamy make out sessions.

 Then one day, Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. While training and sparring, he had you under him so many times that the hard on in his pants started to hurt.

So when you went upstairs to use his shower; he followed you.

  ---

 You sighed as soon as the warm water fell on your skin, washing away the sweat and the dirt. You were worn out, and some of your muscles hurt and your body was sore. So, when you felt two large hands on your hips pulling you into a muscular torso, you allowed it with a smile.

 Bucky’s hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into him, placing his chin on your shoulder and turning his head to the side to kiss your jaw.

You tilted your head back and relished the feeling of being in his arms.

“How classy of you, sneaking up on a woman while she’s in the shower,” you mumbled and he chuckled while he peppered your skin with kisses.

You sighed in comfort.

 “My woman,” he corrected and turned your body so you faced him. And not an ounce of shame could be seen on his face as he allowed his eyes to roam around your bare chest.

You did blush for a moment, but the moment you felt his lips on yours; nothing else mattered.

 Soon, your back hit the cold tiles of the shower and you moaned into Bucky’s mouth while he pulled you up and wrapped your legs around his waist; hands on the curve of your ass holding you firmly between him and the wall.

His lips moved against yours feverishly; eagerly.

Stealthily, one of his hands dipped in between the two of you and lazily rubbed your wet folds. You gasped at the sudden caress of his fingers.

His lips moved from your lips to your neck and he nibbled along the side of your throat while his fingers slipped past your entrance with ease.

Your arousal coated his fingers as he pumped them in and out of you. A series of moans, mewls and cuss words escaped your lips as you felt a familiar warmth wash over you.

You felt a certain firmness pressing against your thigh and excitement coursed through you at the mere thought of him being inside you.

 “Don’t come yet, baby,” he whispered in your ear as he felt your walls pulsating around his fingers. You groaned at his words and just as you tried to grind against his hand, he abruptly removed his hand from you.

You whimpered and cursed again while he smirked against your skin. Your hand held on to his shoulder while the other cradled his face gently, guiding his lips over to yours.

Your dripping core throbbed as it rested against his lower abdomen, pressing against his pelvic area. His erected length stood proud and tall, lightly touching his Adonis belt.

He looked tempting, and the hunger in his eyes didn’t help at all. Your hand slowly left his face as you trailed down his torso.

His muscles tensed under your touch; abs tightening and his cock twitched as soon as you wrapped your hand around it.

You smiled into the kiss as your hand started stroking his velvety skin. Your thumb rubbed the slit at his tip lazily and he moaned into the kiss; tongue diving into your mouth while you pumped your hand up and down his length – taking your sweet time as you brought him on the edge.

 He pulled away and tilted his head back, cussing as your quickened your pace around him; eyes shutting while his face frowned in pleasure. He moaned and bit his lip as you pumped him faster; watching how his tip started leaking. He was close, you could tell.

His fingers dug into your skin as he got closer and closer to his release. Subtly, he moved his hips forward, thrusting into your hand while he mumbled incoherent words in your ear.

 You leaned in and kissed his neck, biting and teasing his skin while he slowly rocked his hips against your hand.

You felt his cock twitch again, while he moaned against your cheek; you internally admitted that it was the hottest sound you ever heard.

However, to give him a taste of his own medicine, just as he was about to come undone; you abruptly stopped stroking his length.

His eyes flew open and it was his turn to groan and look at you as if you had stabbed him in the back. You smirked as he stared at you in the eyes; his eyes so blue and clear that you felt like you were in a trance.

 “Such a fucking tease,” he whispered and tugged on your lower lip.

If someone had told you a few weeks ago that you would find yourself in Bucky Barnes’ bathroom, in his arms, kissing him soon, you would never have believed them. But here you were now, and you wouldn’t change a thing.

  You whimpered when Bucky filled you up with his cock, stretching you to your maximum and grunting occasionally while mumbling how good you felt.

Slow and steady at first, then gradually building up his pace; Bucky rocked into you, stroking your walls with his thick cock.

His thrust quickly grew rougher and with each one, your back slammed against the wall behind you. Your legs tightened around him as he bit down on your shoulder, muffling the sinful moan which escaped his lips.

The sound of the water falling down on the tile beneath you suppressed the obscene sounds of your skin slapping against one another and the moans which left both your mouths.

 You felt his grip tightening on your hip and thigh; promising to leave behind a loving bruise.

Bucky fucked you against the wall relentlessly until your thoughts were a mess. The only things you could focus on while his length slipped in and out of you were the sounds which escaped his lips and the words he mumbled in your ear; accompanied by his ragged breaths.

 You felt the pressure forming in between your legs, hot and fiery; a need flowed between the two of your connected bodies. You had spent most of your life on your own; fighting and struggling to get rid of the loneliness.

Yet, there in his arms, you felt a sense of belonging. A comfort which you had been craving for so long.

 All it took was a few more strokes of his cock against your walls and you were a mess. Walls clenching around him, you came undone and felt the pleasure wash over you.

You whispered his name incessantly as he kept rocking into you until he reached his release. Warm seeds spilled in you as he leaned against you to catch his breath. Yours arms wrapped around his shoulders as you placed your forehead against his.

His warm breath fanned your face. And when he finally opened his eyes, he gave you a genuine smile. And suddenly, everything around you was a shade brighter.

You smiled back and stared into his oceans eyes.

 “I could get used to this,” he whispered against your mouth; lips brushing against yours gently. He was still a little breathless.

 “Me too, actually,” you replied, caressing his cheek with your thumb. Bucky leaned into your touch and exhaled.

 “Move in with me,”

 Nothing more had to be said. You felt safe with him around, and he felt complete with you.

You agreed, because you were hopelessly falling for the bad guy.

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