#and all of that is canon again! it's real!

[gyzym]

HELLO AGAIN, here with some ANSWERS to some QUESTIONS I have gotten about Fall Into You! (If you do not have questions about Fall Into You, I am also, Ron Swanson style, available for questions about my other areas of interest: cooking, crocheting, spending too much of my day identifying birds via the Cornell bird scientists' app, things like that.)

I am in [a location outside of the US or UK], can I still buy the book?

YES! I do not have preorder links for every place yet, these things move in mysterious ways, I will add as I have them! But for now, you can also preorder in:

Canada

Australia

Brazil

France

Germany

Italy

Spain

India

I prefer a physical book; will I be able to order one?

YES! Physical books will be available for preorder as soon as the cover is done, and you better believe I'll be back to let you know 😄

I prefer an audiobook; will I be able to order one? 

YES! The audiobook is being recorded RIGHT now, a very talented voice actor named JORDY HOPE is reading it, at some point in the near-ish future I will be able to share a CLIP, I am SO EXCITED ABOUT THE AUDIOBOOK. I am myself an audiobook person (and a podfic person, shoutout to all the absolute heroes recording those) so I am THRILLED to say that we're planning on a simultaneous release here, so the audiobook should be available alongside the text version on release day 😄

Am I going to be able to order this book through other platforms?

Okay this one is HARDER TO SAY, because it's out of my hands and up to my publishers! My part of this process is largely typing words in a feverish haze and then being amazed and delighted that anyone enjoys reading them; because of this, my publishers wisely do not leave me to handle any of the business calls, as I possess no business skills. But I have been told that the best path to broader accessibility on other platforms is the book doing well on this one; my fingers are extremely crossed I'll be able to offer news here at some point! 

Is this novel secretly a thinly veiled fanfiction with the serial numbers filed off and if so, will you tell me which fandom/pairing it originated as? 

NO, it is not, so I cannot! I'm not casting aspersions or saying I'm above this, to be clear—I have read many delightful books that had their bones in fandom, and many delightful fanfics that might as well have been original novels in terms of both quality and diversion from canon, and there is at least one book concept I plan to execute at some point that was originally ideated for fandom. And ABSOLUTELY you will find, in Fall Into You and probably all my work forever, tropes and structures and stylistic choices I love from fic, because I love fic and find those tropes and structures deeply enjoyable to read. 

But this story is not and has never been fanfic, except in the sense that creativity doesn't exist in a vacuum, so all work draws from somewhere, so in the same way everything is a sandwich if you get broad enough in your definition of sandwich, everything is fanfic of something if you look at it right. The setting of Fall Into You, for example, is based on a real apple farm in Northeast Ohio that I've been visiting since I was a child; Will, our protagonist, isn't based on any specific pre-existing fictional character, but he WAS exactingly designed on the concept, 'Someone who could be well-rendered by Andrew Garfield circa roughly 2016,'; Casey, our love interest, was built to answer the question, "What if Bill Paxton's character in classic 1996 movie Twister* was queerer and hotter and instead of chasing tornados, he had only developed the similarly self-destructive habit of attempting to fix things (places, relationships, people) which have been badly broken?" This is a question concerned parties (me) have been asking SINCE roughly 1996, and data suggests that those parties (again, me) are pleased to have finally drawn such conclusive results. 

Didn't you write another book that one time? 

Yeah, you're not pulling that from nowhere, that novel is out there! But it's out of print, and was published under another name, with a photo of what I used to look like, in the uncomfortable years RIGHT before I finally let myself acknowledge I was trans and began pursuing transition. These were my egg cracking years. All trans people are different people, and there are many there who feel differently about this sort of thing than I do personally! For some folks, the cracking of the egg is swift and relatively clean, and/or they are able to look back on that period, and the previous iteration of themselves, with the fondness of a seasoned artist looking back on their first finger paintings. Those people are so valid and I am genuinely quite happy for them.

My own crackening, however, was more of a, "What's this mess on the floor—ew, has someone dropped an egg? Is that even an egg? God I better make sure no one sees this until I know what happened here, surely I'll be in some sort of trouble otherwise, how do you know what an egg looks like after it's been smashed—wait, where's my egg? Oh my GOD, is that MY EGG?? Oh god, oh fuck, oh hell, oh no—" sort of a situation for a hottttt minute there. I'm not ashamed of who I was or what I wrote back then, I haven't scrubbed traces of my old name or face off the internet, I don't care what people know about the years before I was living as myself. But they were messy years, especially towards the end, and I'm not hugely interested in discussing them. Wading around in that period of my life feels, to me (not speaking for all trans people! just for me!) like having to rehash my most embarrassing teenage moments in front of a live studio audience. So you won't see me pointing people towards it, because to do that would suggest I was interested in having that conversation, which I'm just not. No hard feelings, no need to scrub it from your memories, no disavowals; just a case where the author of that book is metaphorically dead in more than just the usual way. 

Will there be advance reader copies?

YES! Soon! If you're on NetGalley and would like to be sent one, please let me know 💜

Okay, HOPE THAT CLEARS THINGS UP, wishing you all LESS INTERESTING TIMES 💜

*If you think you want to talk to me about 2024's Twisters, a film that did nothing for deeply (some might say 'unsettlingly') devoted fans of the original Twister—I promise, I swear to you, no you don't lmao. 

HELLO TUMBLR 👋 i am ENORMOUSLY excited to say: i've written a book! and i'm writing two more! and they're all queer romcoms! and the first one, FALL INTO YOU, will be out in JUNE. there is a LOT of my heart in this novel, and i absolutely can't wait to share it with you 💜

if you've ever enjoyed my fanfic, particularly stories like What We Pretend We Can't See and I've Got Nothing to Do Today But Smile, then you'll love FALL INTO YOU. it's full of ROMANCE and JOKES but also REAL, MESSY PEOPLE with PROBLEMS and TRAUMA, because those are the stories i love telling! it's chock full of things i adore: set on an APPLE FARM in NORTHEAST OHIO, main characters who hate each other more or less immediately, gratuitous depictions of food, and they were ROOMMATES?, people healing wounds they didn't even know were still open, AND MORE.

i'll be sharing more about this book in the weeks to come (i promise i will try so hard not to be obnoxious about it 🫡 ), and about the next two as we get closer to publication! but until then, i just want to say: the fic stays UP and the author stays GRATEFUL, always. i am honored and humbled by your readership, and really proud of the work i've done for and with fandom, and that's not a tune you're ever going to see me change.

okay, thanks so much for reading!! hope you're all well; i'll just be here having one of the coolest and most surreal days of my life 😂👋💜

EDITED TO ADD 4/29/25: for those who have been kind enough to ask, you can PREORDER Fall Into You here in the US (or here in the UK)! Will have info to you ASAP on options for folks in other countries, this is all as new to me as it is to you, but will keep you very posted 💜

[littlegreen]

and ALSO. like fundamentally the kitchen fight is still about eddie leaving. grieving bobby is exacerbating the tension. but eddie is lingering in LA, he carries all this guilt from the fact that he wasn’t there in the first place and now he has to go back to el paso and he doesn’t want to!! and buck is seeing it through this lens of like. That’s where eddie’s family is. and eddie is avoiding telling about the job because it would just be a replay of what happened in 809. buck is already living in this fear of his family falling apart without bobby and eddie leaving again would be the worst of it, but also the Right Thing to do is to ultimately tell eddie to go back because he’s not seeing that what’s actually best for eddie is to be in LA with him. and it’s awesome because something literally has to give. they keep going in circles like this because buck is in denial about his feelings for eddie and eddie is struggling to say Out Loud and get it into buck’s head just how much he actually needs him and relies on him. and nothing will change until they break the boundaries of platonic friendship that’s holding them back. and then on top of that they’re creating the scenarios to have this confrontation between buck being trapped in the earthquake and eddie fulfilling the prophecy of abandoning his job in el paso for a wife in a different state. buddie canon is so real it’s not even a joke anymore

[sahrberrii]

𓍯𓂃 A LITTLE WHITE LIE,

𓍼 IWAIZUMI HAJIME

is fake dating your childhood best friend the closest thing you’ll ever get to being in a relationship with him?

IN WHICH after a mutual breakup with miya atsumu, he proposes that you use him as an excuse to fake date your childhood best friend. After all, a small lie won’t hurt.

contains ⨾ fem!reader, hybrid (smau and written), kinda canon compliant, childhood best friends to lovers, fake dating, HARD mutual pining, this is so silly chat, college au, exes (atsumu) on good terms, long distance at the start (for a short time), takes place at the end of iwaizumi’s sophomore year in cali, probably hurt to comfort, AGAIN this is a very very unserious silly smau for fun, irregular updates, more might be added later.

taglist ⨾ open, comment to be added

MEET ꒰ dumb and dumber(s) 👍 ꒱꒰ gym rats (real not fake)꒱

HAVE A LOOK AT the moodboard

READ THROUGH the chapters ⨾

♯ 1.0 ⸝⸝ does he hate me?

♯ 2.0 ⸝⸝ a good idea, or not

♯ 3.0 ⸝⸝ can we fake date.

tba

tags ⨾ @kameyyy @ayatakanosstuff @megumismyhusband @mayyhaps

@biancaackerman @binkibuns @ihsoti @megapteraurelia

@silkloom @nanasrkives @cupidsblonde

notes ⨾ i really want to thank everyone who helped me refine the idea and put this together (maddie mey dee) and also cid for giving atsumu and iwa a reason to be in a gc together!!! thank u guys so much i hope you know i am so grateful to have you i love u guys. that being said this will hopefully update next week!!!! i’m so excited and i hope i do this justice!!! and i hope u guys like it <3

[anyarose011]

How to Get to Coney Island

-> Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!reader

Summary: As summer begins and the school year ends, Bucky decides to do something nice for you and your daughter.

Warning(s): Minor angst, low-key disorganized attachment (but she's healing), a sassy child, FLUFF, one innuendo, and making out.

In response to that one little boy questioning if Bucky would be a good dad [he would, it’s canon], me watching ‘Brooklyn’, it’s aftercare after Thunderbolts* [I haven't seen it yet], and how it’s summertime and I wanna go do summer things😊. So, idk if this is gonna be a series or not (I have one or two other stories in mind, but let's see if it'll be in practice). I also imagine this to be like six months before Brave New World and Thunderbolts* [the timeline is fucked]. Anywho, I hope y'all enjoy it, and happy summer!

Word Count: 5.5k

MASTERLIST

“Jamie!”

Your little girl seldomly ever called him ‘Bucky’. She was at that strange age (nine) where she wanted to seem vastly different than anyone else in the world. Even though you and her had known him for a year, you could only use one hand to count how many times she’s called him ‘Bucky’.

It was late afternoon on a Saturday in early May. The dance company you taught at just had its recital at Brooklyn Arts, and all the kids you taught were running around the reception hall in their fairytale costumes, excitedly showing them off to their parents. That was when, from the crowd, Clementine saw him.

She ran from your arms and into Bucky’s. He laughed as he hugged her, and it shouldn’t have surprised you to see two small bouquets of flowers in his hand.

Even before you started dating him, he’d bring flowers to your doorstep. It never unnerved you, which was a real shock. If anything, they’d brighten the room and in turn, your smile.

Approaching them, you wore that same smile. “You came.”

“Yeah.” He stood. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Clementine made dead eye-contact with the bouquets. “Are those for me?”

“One of them is, don’t be greedy.” Bucky chuckled, handing her a pastel bouquet. Then, he held one out to you. “For the Madame.”

You swatted him playfully, taking the flowers. “Now stop it.”

“Only if you come to get ice cream.”

“Ice cream?!” Clementine interjected.

You wrapped your arm around her shoulders, bringing her to your side. “We’d love to. Just let her get changed.”

“You haven’t said anything about my dress.” Clementine pouted, showing off the lavender fabric. “You think it’s ugly.”

“No, sweetie.” Bucky got down to her height. “I was just so impressed by your dancing, I thought I’d tell you that first because the last time I said your dress was pretty, you told me I was shallow for complimenting a girl’s clothing and not her talents.”

You snorted, and Clementine merely smiled before dashing away back into the changing rooms. Shaking your head, you sighed.

“I don’t think she’s ever gonna fix that attitude.”

“No problem.” Bucky stood. “You both keep me on my toes.”

“You say that like I’m ever mean to you.”

He didn’t have to say anything. He only gave that look, grinned a little, and shrugged. Scoffing, you turned over your shoulder and started walking to the changing rooms to hide your amusement.

Your voice betrayed you. “I’m stealing your cat if you talk to me like that again!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

After Clementine changed out of her costume, and your boss essentially “allowed” you to leave, the three of you left the school. Now here was the funniest thing about James Buchannan Barnes: Despite being a congressman for half a year at the time, if he wasn’t going anywhere for work, he took the train. He lived in a humble, one-bedroom apartment across from your two-bedroom. It was practically a suite for you and Clementine, but for him, all you could ask was why?

So, you did a month after he was elected Senator.

“I like what I like.” He said as he was fixing the heating in the small dance studio you worked in. “I’ve lived in that building for a few years now, I have all my stuff there, I don’t want to waste time moving again.”

“Clem and I would help.” You pointed out.

“You mean you.” He snickered, twisting the screwdriver.

“I mean me.”

He certainly fit the role of a politician only in movies who cared about their community and would go out and actually solve problems. He even fixed the lamplights down the whole block of your apartment and a few by the nearest library.

He was modest, and that was something you weren’t used to. Perhaps that’s why, even with a huge amount of hesitance, you agreed to go to lunch with him two months ago.

And there you were, having ice cream on an early summer day with him and your daughter.

“Did you see my do a double pirouette?” Clem asked excitedly, chocolate custard all around her lips.

“That one’s the turn, right?” Bucky asked while the three of you sat at a small table outside the bustling ice cream parlor. The last day of school had been the day before.

“Uh huh.”

“Of course I saw it, you were amazing.”

“Yeah, I was.”

You playfully shoved her. “‘Thank you’ is what we say.”

“Thank you.” She pitched her voice up higher but smiled wide at Bucky. “Do you wanna see my designs?”

“Always.”

She unzipped her backpack, bringing out a pink, glittery sketchbook. She pushed the ice cream dishes out of the way as if she were presenting important data and flipped through the pages.

“I made this one last month.” she pointed to a blank model wearing a red dress with white frills on the sleeves titled ‘Christmas in Germany’. “That ones for me, and then this one’s for mama.”

The one labeled ‘Met Gala’ simply had a lace dress in your favorite color with a long veil.

“And why would I go to the Met Gala?” You teased.

“Dance.”

“Yes,” you nodded. “that is what they do for sure.”

“You’re lucky I’m your designer for it.”

“Not really.” You pointed at the veil. “If I’m dancing, won’t that just make me trip?”

“Jamie,” she looked up. “do you want to go to the gala?”

“No.” He answered.

“Fine.” She sighed, starting another sketch. “I guess I’ll have to.”

You and Bucky laughed, and then he pointed to the next page. “What’s that one?”

Clem answered, glancing up. There were two models, a taller one and a shorter one, wearing dresses in the style from the 1950s. On the smaller one, a robin’s egg blue dress with a darker shade of blue buttons down the sternum, and a headband the same shade in the hair. On the larger model, a white shirt and skirt with red and yellow flowers scattered alongside green foliage. A robin’s egg blue satin sash across the waist.

She glanced back down at her original sketching. “When Mama and I go to Coney Island.”

“Like this summer?”

“No, ever.”

You thought you had seen (almost) every facial expression this man could make, but you were wrong. Never had you seen such a look of bewilderment.

“How long have you lived in Brooklyn?” He asked.

“Almost two years.” You shrugged, smiling. Originally, the dance studio you worked at was in lower Manhattan, but at the same time your studio was moving, you and Clementine were evicted.

But he didn’t need to know that.

“And you’ve never been to Coney Island?”

You leaned forward, putting your arms on the table. “I’m sorry, but when was the last time you went to Coney Island?”

Bucky said nothing at first, glancing down at his melting ice cream. “Nineteen forty-two.”

You hummed. “And I’m guessing tourism wasn’t really at all a time high during a war going on, so therefore, not many people went to an amusement park?”

“Not like how there are today, no.”

You didn’t have to say anything. You only gave him that look and smiled a wicked smile, sitting back in your chair.

He mirrored a yielding one. “So, if the recital’s done, what’re your plans for the summer?”

“I’ll start teaching summer classes in June, and some of the students’ parents also asked me to help tutor their kids; elementary stuff thankfully.”

“Not taking any vacations?”

You shook your head. “Busy.”

And couldn’t afford it; but he didn’t need to know that either.

He shrugged sheepishly. “I mean…I know I have a conference at the end of the month in D.C. You could come out with me.”

Clementine’s face lit up like the hot sun that day. “Yeah!”

Yours grew dark like the night that would come, though you tried to hide it. “No. Thank you for the offer but-.”

“-Why can’t we go?” Clem whined.

“He’ll be doing a lot of important work, and we don’t want to distract him.”

Not taking the hint, Bucky only continued. “That’s only for one day, we could go out on Friday and then-.”

“-Thank you.” You finished for him, a smile so tight it would rip your cheeks.

It was settled; you weren’t going, and it wasn’t spoken of again. The rest of the ice cream social went on without any more tension; spoken aloud, that is. It still lingered from your abrasive decline of Bucky’s offer. Call it your own anxiety, but you felt his disappointment radiate off of him and onto you.

Clementine was a child, and your child nonetheless, so you and the other customers outside the bustling ice crem store knew she was silently judgmental and upset about your decision.

Even on the subway ride home, the three of you said not a word to each other. Usually, the silence would have been out of comfort, but then, you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it was because of you.

That’s why you stayed out in the hall when you got back to your apartment. Clementine went in without question, and you were left with Bucky.

“Really,” you began. “thank you for the offer to D.C. but-.”

“-No, it’s okay.” He interrupted casually. “I shouldn’t have pushed and now you gotta deal with Clem-.”

“-May I speak?” You cut him off calmly. When he nodded, you took in a shuttering breath. “I really am sorry. I-we’d love to go, but I haven’t been serious about anyone since her father. I’ve gone on dates, you know that, but either it’s not a match, they ran at the first sign of a kid, or the complete opposite…and I’m prideful, and I don’t want a huge trip solely just to rely on you.”

He nodded, completely understanding. “You’d be uncomfortable. You don’t have to explain it to me.”

 “I’m just…” You swallowed. “I’m sorry I’m moving so slow-.”

“I don’t think you are.”

You hadn’t even kissed him. Well…you had, but only on the cheek, his head, jaw, essentially anywhere on his face but his lips. You were wondering how he hadn’t become bored with you yet.

 “I want this to work.” You vowed. “Because, hell, I knew that even if I told you no about going on a date, you never would have treated me differently afterwards.”

Bucky took your face into his hands, saying softly. “I wouldn’t have. You’re not going slow, I…I like this too. I haven’t been serious about anyone either and I don’t wanna mess it up. Even if we’re going slow, that means we get to enjoy it more.”

You melted from his words and his touch. Drawing your arms around his neck, you sank into his embrace as his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. It was nice, just standing there in the hallway, even if the fluorescent lights above were too bright.

“But please,” he whispered into your ear. “please, let me take you two to Coney Island.”

Laughing into his neck, you gave him one last squeeze before kissing his jaw and pulling away fully. “Only if that means you’ll stop talking about it like it’s Disneyworld.”

“I will never step foot on that rat’s land.”

“Thank God you weren’t around for Chuck E. Cheese.” You joked.

“That’s not the pizza place, is it?”

“Yeah. If I was ever misbehaving, my parents would take me there to catch a cold.”

The two of you laughed maybe a little too loudly in the hallway. After you both (somewhat) composed yourselves, you wished each other a goodnight, and the rest was history. The first few days were uneventful between the three of you. Most were spent between you and Clem, sometimes making the journey all the way to Central Park, and others were spent indoors, simply having a movie day.

Some were spent with Bucky when he wasn’t busy, but those times were reserved for casual dinners or playing with Alpine (the damn cat that was the reason you and Clementine met him officially).

Two weeks passed, and it was after one of your tutoring jobs you got a call from Bucky.

“I want to do something nice for Clem.”

You chuckled, walking down the sidewalk. “She’s had you wrapped around her finger for months, that’s nice enough.”

“I’m not wrapped around her finger.”

“Uh huh. What’d you have in mind?”

“So, I was overhearing my secretary talk this morning-.”

“-Oh, your young, straight out of college, pencil skirted-.”

“-Her wife,” he strained the word with similar humor you spoke with. “just started a fashion design business and is looking for clients. It’s Sylvie and Emily, remember?”

“Oh, that’s them!” You laughed. “Yeah, their wedding was fun. What’s this about?”

He clicked his tongue. “I think it’d be neat if Clem got to wear something special for her first trip to Coney Island.”

You stopped in your tracks, in complete awe and wonder at his thoughtfulness. “If heaven is real, I know whoever raised you is there.”

He laughed, and you could picture every detail of his face; how his cheeks turned the palest of pinks, and he’d rest his hand in his hair for just a moment as if to decide if what you said was in his imagination or not.

“Do you think there’ll be enough room for me?”

You puckered your lips. “I don’t know.”

“And here I thought you were sweet.”

“Please, you know I’m sweet.” You teased. “Now, what do you need from me?”

Obviously, the sketch of the dress she designed for herself, but also her specific measurements for the perfectly tailored gown. Those were easy. When Clem was having a playdate, you snuck into her room and snapped a picture of the sketch. You had also gotten her measurements from dance when needing to buy costumes for the recital, and you sent that to him too.

So, the next few weeks ran like the last ones. When you’d work, depending on if it were for dance classes or tutoring, you’d take Clem with you. If you couldn’t, she’d be babysat by either the college girl a floor below, or the ex-nun at the end of the hall. They were really the only people in the building who would take your home-cooked meals as payment instead of money.

It was the second week of June, and you and Clementine were having a “girl’s day in” for your Friday afternoon, when a knock came on the door. You paused the Barbie princess movie that was on, and you looked through the peephole; no one.

Opening it, your eyes fell to the two white boxes wrapped in pink bows on your welcome mat. On top, a sticky note read: “Only the best for you both. Be ready at ten tomorrow morning, we’re going on an adventure. Your Loving, Jamie :)”

“What is it?” Clementine asked behind you.

Taking the boxes into your apartment, you set them down at the kitchen table, grinning from ear to ear. “Open them.”

She read the note on top before mirroring your smile and unwrapping the first box. Taking the top off, inside was revealed a perfect replica of the dress she had sketched. Her jaw dropped to the floor as she held it up, the light from the window in the living room catching it perfectly.

Clementine squealed as she hugged it close to her chest, then reaching in to grab the headband.

“How’d he do this?!” She cheered, beaming.

You giggled. “He told me he wanted to do something nice for you.”

She latched her arms around you, kissing your cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

Laughing, you hugged her just as tightly. Still in your arms, she turned around, glancing at the other box. “Is this one for you then?”

You frowned. “I’m not sure.”

Still, you opened it, and your face was the same as Clementine’s; pure, unadulterated shock. There was your dress in the box; the one your daughter had so caringly designed for you. Your face dropped into a smile, realizing this was perhaps the greatest gift you had ever received, and it wasn’t even your birthday.

“It’s so pretty.” Clem fawned.

“I wonder who designed it?” You ticked her sides. She laughed, trying to push you away from her.

You were tempted to text Bucky thank you, but decided it was best to wait until the morning to do it in person. Call it “Old-Fashioned”.

It was Clementine who ironically got you up early to get ready. After having a quick breakfast, the two of you settled to get “prettied up”.

“But I thought you said we shouldn’t dress up for men?” You teased, fixing her hair.

She sighed dramatically. “We are dressing for ourselves.”

You kissed her head. “That’s my girl.”

After “prettying up”, you heard a knock on the door. Clementine ran just as you stood from the couch and swung it open. Upon seeing Bucky, she clung to him with an iron grip.

“Good morning.” He greeted, trying to hold in his laughter.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She squeezed with every word.

He crouched down to her height and pulled her away just enough to look at her. “How do you think it came out?”

“Absolutely marvelously.”

He repeated her sentiment, smiling. “Took the words out of my mouth.”

His eyes drifted towards you, and there you stood, wearing the outfit you didn’t expect to come to life. Even though he had seen it before you, it was more than apparent that it was as if you were a witch, and he was under your spell as he stared at you, eyes running over every detail of the skirt.

“Tell her she’s pretty.” Clem whispered into his ear.

That somehow snapped him out of it. “You’re really pretty.”

Giggling, you approached him, and he stood. Perhaps it made it “worse” the closer you stood to him; he could get every detail of your face.

“Now how’d you make this?” You asked, pulling at the skirt. “I thought you only wanted to be nice to Clem?”

He smiled sheepishly, yet you detected a hint of hesitation. “Your dress was side by side with Clem’s when you sent the first picture, and your measurements were above hers when you sent them.”

None of that had occurred to you; you were simply so focused on surprising your daughter, all of that had left your mind. Bucky wasn’t finished.

“I was second guessing myself, because I didn’t know if I was violating your privacy or-.”

You kissed his cheek to shut him up. “I never would’ve given you Clem’s measurements in the first place if I didn’t trust you a little.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God, I really wanted to surprise you.”

“Come on!” Little Clementine pulled on his metal arm as if she could move him. “Stop kissing, I wanna go!”

“You don’t even have your shoes on!” Bucky taunted.

Once she did in fact slip on her sandals, and you got your own shoes, the three of you left the apartment and hailed a cab. As you were waiting on the sidewalk, it was only then you got to get a better look at Bucky as he entertained Clem.

His hair was combed, and he’d shaved recently, yet there was still somewhat of a stubble. A few of the buttons on his navy-blue polo were unbuttoned, and he wore loose-fitting cream-colored pants.

You never denied that he was attractive, even when he was a mere stranger. Yet it was that morning as he listened to Clementine talk about everything and anything, that you realized he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

The ride to Coney Island didn’t take long. A part of that certainly had to do with both Clem’s excitement, but also yours that you tried to mask. The sun was starting to come out from behind the clouds as noon approached whilst you waited in line for Luna’s Park.

“Does it look different from back then?” You asked once the three of you finally made it in. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy flooded your nostrils as you walked with your arm looped through his.

He nodded. “Everything does, so kinda. There are still some of the rides, but there’s a lot more now. Kinda overwhelming but guess that just comes with the territory.”

“Did you ever ride the Cyclone?” Clem asked, taking his hand.

“Oh yeah.” he snorted. “My friend Steve threw up. He was about as tall as you.”

“Well, I’m not going to throw up.” She bragged.

An hour later, she was right; she didn’t throw up. Yet, while you and Bucky were beaming from the thrill of it, the poor thing’s entire body was trembling as she walked.

“Okay,” you soothed her, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “let’s go get lunch.”

Thankfully, nothing like fried food horrible for everyone’s cholesterol plus ice cream to fix a nine-year-old. She nearly had a tantrum when a drop of mint-chocolate chip got on her dress, but after you dabbed some of her apple juice onto the stain, all was well.

In your decision, it was best to just play the carnival games and minor rides considering Clem’s reaction to the Cyclone. All games were played from whac a mole to ring tossing, including a few where Bucky insisted on winning crappy, cheap (but albeit adorable) carnival stuffed animals.

“She has a bunch already.” You joked when he’d gotten a stuffed bear for Clem from knocking down a pyramid of cans.

“So?” He handed the prize to Clementine, who took it happily.

“So, it’s a bunch of gobbledygook.”

Clementine laughed. “Gobbledygook!”

Bucky audibly seethed. “That’s not even how you use it!”

“Sorry,” you scoffed. “didn’t mean to be such a cornball.”

“I beg of you,” he spoke softly, holding your shoulders. “please stop, or I’ll start saying the slang I’ve heard around my office.”

“No!” Clem screamed as if she were being murdered.

Giggling, you shushed her putting a finger to her lips, and she merely giggled. You looked up at him. “Just one more, please?”

How could he say no to you as you looked at him with your own eyes? He sighed, shutting his own and nodding.

“‘Sugar, are you rationed?’ was adorable, and I probably would’ve folded if you said that to me.” You admitted.

He scoffed. “You would’ve backhanded me.”

“No.” You denied. “Rejected you and gave you a look, yes; but never hit you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

The teacups ride was by far one of your favorites. Even with only seeing it in Uptown Girls, you still enjoyed it, despite feeling slightly dizzy from all the spinning. It was much more relaxing to ride the carousel; something you couldn’t remember doing for the longest time.

It was then that the three of you decided to walk alongside the boardwalk. Clem would frequently walk ahead of you, but never too far. She settled upon sitting in the sand to relax when you and Bucky finally had somewhat of a moment alone together.

“I think you’ve made her entire summer.” You said, watching as Clementine built a sandcastle with some kids she just befriended; you wished it was that easy to make friends as an adult.

Bucky looked over at you. “You helped.”

“All of this was your idea.”

“You look beautiful.”

That’s what brought your gaze to him. You didn’t know him in another life when he lived in the 1940s, but you liked to believe that the way he looked at you then was what he looked like when he was himself. Boyish, yet mature.

Snickering, you shook your head.

“I’m serious.” He said.

“‘I’m serious’.” You mimicked in his voice before leaning in so he could only hear you. “You know, I’m not gonna put out just because you got me a pretty dress.”

He huffed, and you couldn’t tell if it was from being amused or slightly aroused. He still wore the same grin you always liked.

“I don’t expect that from you.”

“Uh huh.” You teased.

“I don’t!”

“Mama!”

The tension was broken by the call of your child. You both looked to see her standing in the sand. “Can we go swimming?”

You shook your head. “Baby I already told you we aren’t; and in what swimsuits?”

“We could buy them!”

Your jaw dropped. Usually, the childish greed would’ve appalled you into scolding her. Yet, it was a sunny day, and it was summer, so you merely laughed.

“Absolutely not!”

She groaned yet did nothing more than sit in the sand and sulk. Thank God she didn’t throw a tantrum.

“You know,” Bucky started. “I could-.”

“No.” You interrupted. “You’ve done too much, and she needs to be told ‘no’ or it’ll just make my life hell when she grows up.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He dropped it.

Silence fell between the two of you, and you rested your head on his shoulder. “Besides, why would I want to take off a perfectly beautiful dress you so caringly told your secretary to tell her wife to craft?”

“It’s not the dress that makes you beautiful.” He pulled you closer.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I should say you’d look beautiful wearing anything; even a potato sack.”

“Huh,” you looked up at him. “so you should say it, but you aren’t. What are you saying them?”

Bucky didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. He only smiled, and you watched as his eyes traveled down your body.

A sharp laugh filled your lungs and escaped your mouth as you tried to muffle it with your hand. Bucky took it away as he laughed, hugging you close to him.

“Now I know you weren’t just imagining me in swimsuit just now.” You teased.

He shook his head. “No-!”

“Too scandalous for you, James Barnes.” You threw on an accent one would only hear in black and white movies. “Oh my stars, it was already too much to see a woman’s ankle, but to imagine her in a bathing costume?”

“We didn’t see just women’s ankles back in the forties, doll.”

“What did you see?”

He scoffed, hiding how his cheeks turned red. “Come on.”

“No, I’m serious.” You smirked. “I thought you were all prudes back then. Are you telling me I’m wrong?”

“Yes.” He kissed the top of your head. “Very.”

It was funny; you told him you wanted to take it slow, and you still did to an extent…but it felt so effortless to tease and flirt with him like this.

“We can always go swimming some other time.” You changed the subject as you watched Clementine get over herself and make her way back to you two.

“Preferably not at Coney Island.” Bucky added.

It could’ve been for an array of reasons you guessed; he thought the beach was too crowded, he didn’t like the new version of the amusement park, or he was insecure of his arm being more so on display for everyone. Still, you intercepted with.

“Probably for the best.” You looked directly at your daughter when she took your hand. “I can just imagine you and Clem playing, and then an out of context picture is taken and labeled ‘Brooklyn Senator spotted trying to drown child’; when really, it would be the other way around.”

“Now why would I do that?” Clementine asked innocently while Bucky laughed.

“You’d have your reasons.”

Bucky took Clem’s other hand. “We’d be playing sharks and minnows.”

“What’s that?”

He looked up at you. “What have you been teaching this kid?”

“Well, I tried manners but gave up.”

Clem hummed. “You didn’t teach me anything.”

You raised your arm up, hoisting her halfway into the air and Bucky soon followed. Both of you swung her as you walked, resulting in her into a fit of giggles. As the sun beat down on your neck, it wasn’t just you getting tired. Clem’s eyes grew heavier, and by the time you made it back to the entrance of Deno’s Wonder Wheel, she was falling asleep on her feet.

“Okay,” Bucky hoisted her into his arms. “maybe it’s time to go home.”

“Nooooo.” She whined but nuzzled her face into his neck.

You ran your hand over her hair, then whispered to Bucky. “She’s getting too big to be carried. I can-.”

“-I got her.” He said just as quietly back.

“I wanna ride the wheel.” She continued to sulk.

You rubbed her cheek. “You’d throw up and ruin your dress.”

“No, I won’t.”

“We can go on the wheel another day, pumpkin.” Bucky cooed.

“I wanna go swimming.”

“We can go swimming another day.” He promised.

The cab ride back was peaceful. It was the better kind of silence; one where no one had to say a thing to feel comfortable. Part of that was because Clementine drifted off to sleep. Bucky wouldn’t say it aloud, but just from how he looked down at her resting face, you knew he never imagined someone so small and helpless would feel safe enough to fall asleep in his arms.

It was only four in the afternoon, but it had been a long, exciting day. When you made it back to the apartment, you watched from the doorway of Clementine’s room as Bucky carefully laid her down on her bed, tucking her in.

Something in you shifted as you watched such a domestic scene.

As he tiptoed out of the room and carefully shut the door, you found that you were wrong earlier that day.

It was him staring at you then in there outside your daughter’s bedroom did you notice how beautiful he was. How his chest heaved in air gently while previously holding his own breath as if it would awake Clementine, how his eyes gazed over you to try and figure out exactly what was going on inside your head.

“You alright, honey?”

Your eyes ran over his lips, and after inhaling a shaky breath, you took his hand. After leading him into the sitting room, and onto the couch, you straddled his lap and placed your hands on his face.

Lightly tracing every inch of it, you brought your lips to his cheek, and then the other. Bucky shut his eyes, sinking into the couch and your touch as his hands drifted to your hips. You hovered your mouth over his.

“Too much?” You asked.

“No.” He breathed. “Not at all.”

You pressed your lips to his gently at first. It didn’t take long for the heat of your breaths to heighten as Bucky pulled you closer into him as you kissed. Your hands traveled into his hair, loosely pulling on the short strands causing him to grunt with each tug.

The farther you sank into his lap, the higher your skirt hiked up your hips. The coolness of his metal hand traveling up your thigh tore a yelp through your throat.

“I’m sorry.” He asked, immediately stopping.

You shook your head. “Just surprised me. I don’t wanna do more than this.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” You kissed him again.

“Yeah.” He sighed into your mouth, bringing his right hand under your shirt to rub circles into the small of your back.

You lightly bit his lip as you smiled into the kiss, and he groaned, wrapping his arm around your waist and his other around your thigh to hoist you up. You tried to stifle your giggle against his lips as he gently laid you down on the couch before climbing over you. You parted your legs to give him enough space, resuming kissing.

You could only feel him all around you. One hand would clutch the fabric of your skirt while the other cradled the back of your neck to not rest uncomfortably on the arm of the couch.

It was when you swore he had kissed all the air from your lungs when he finally pulled away and draped his legs over the couch, panting as if he’d ran a mile. You smiled wider than you had all day, you swore. You fully lay yourself down, tossing your feet over his lap and watching him.

He rested his head in his hand, still breathing quite deeply.

When he hadn’t looked at you yet, you frowned, sitting up and tugging your skirt down over your bare legs.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” he huffed, finally meeting your gaze, a shy grin upon his lips. “Just a lot.”

“Oh…” you dropped your eyes before looking back at him. “Good though?”

“Yes.” He said without a hint of reluctance.

You chuckled, bringing your hand up to his hair. “I think you should grow it out.”

“Why?” He wrinkled his nose.

“More for me to run my hands through.”

Bucky smiled, dare you say, almost shyly. “I’ll think about.”

And the two of you just sat there in each other’s company, debating if it was better to wish each other farewell for the day, or be absolutely still and where you were with each other.

“You know,” You began. “I think Clem would love it if you stayed for dinner.”

“I think so too.” He agreed. “And maybe a movie?”

“Oh, she’d adore it.”

[goldfishinaplasticbag]

warning: unimportant yap session about tim drake fanon. don't take me too seriously nothing i say will ever be for real serious unless stated

sometimes i get worried (overstatement) that people may read into me making tim drink coffee or not sleep as "oh look at this fanon-only enjoyer" (which, honestly idgaf about because life is too short not to be joyful and have fun—i read comics but i don't go out of my way to bash people lol) but like, realistically it makes sense

he hates the taste of coffee (this is canon both in dc and my fics) but coffee is unfortunately a good way of getting a boost of caffeine and can be an inevitable part of daily life simply because of the work tim does (again, both in canon and my canon/fanon). sure he can pop three redbulls over coffee but it's not entirely wrong to say he does occasionally drink it, especially in a professional setting where "grabbing a coffee" or having a coffee pot is normal (in terms of fics)

he can sleep anywhere, but it is realistic for him to stay up late and be tired because, again, of the work he does. you really think any of the bats get good nights sleep any night? and this circle backs to the coffee thing

i think all of the bats drink coffee, it's just that tim gets the brunt of the title since he's known for working as a detective and such. also because he's been flanderised to be this hardworking, tired coffee drinker by both current dc canon and fanon LOL

basically i'm just saying these fanon traits come from a place of realistic thinking of canon. and i subscribe to this without inflating it. personally. let the guy both drink coffee and hate it, let the guy fall asleep on a rollercoaster but also stay up all night to do work.

god forbid a silly guy gets to be more than one thing

[xxsyluslittlecrowxx]

𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚 𝐆𝐨𝐝

[ 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥 ] — [ 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧!𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐲𝐞𝐥 ]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

∿ 𝐚/𝐧 : Rafayel has become my muse. There’s something devastatingly beautiful about him—soft in the way storms are soft just before they break. This story was born from that ache. Loosely inspired by The Little Mermaid and ancient siren myths, it twists familiar longing into something darker, older, and entirely its own. It will unfold over several parts. Below is the prologue. I'm writing the next few chapters now, and the full work will eventually be uploaded to AO3.

∿ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : In the depths, a siren waits—voiceless, cursed, and forgotten by the gods he once defied. When the sea delivers him a woman with the face of the one who cost him everything, longing stirs where silence reigned. But the ocean remembers his betrayal, and it whispers: her death could restore what was taken. To love her again is to drown twice.

∿ 𝐜𝐰 / 𝐭𝐰 : This is a non-canon work of fiction inspired by Love and Deepspace. While elements from the game’s lore are referenced, they are used in a purely imaginative and transformative context. All characters and narrative choices reflect the author’s creative interpretation. NSFW.

∿ 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐎𝐰𝐧 : [ Press Here! ]

[ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ] — [ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈 ]

❝ My God! A whole minute of bliss! Is that really so little for the whole of a man's life? ❞ — Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights, 1848.

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 time, the sea fell in love with the sky.

And it ended, as all love between gods must end: in silence.

This is how the tale begins. Or rather, the lie we whisper when the truth draws too much blood. For truth—real truth, the kind that survives myth—is not gentle. Love, in its truest form, is not light, nor warmth, nor sanctuary.

It is hunger.

It is collapse.

It is the breath before drowning—when water feels like a womb, and death becomes a lover’s touch.

The Lemurians knew this.

They did not fear the sea; they worshipped it. Their temples rose not in homage to flame or stone or stars, but to the voice beneath the surface—older than gods, older than grief. A voice that sang the world into ache.

From that voice came the first siren.

Neither god nor beast. Neither man nor woman. Only longing, made flesh and sound. A creature not born to live, but to be yearned for. With its voice, it stilled tempests. With its voice, it ruined kings. With its voice, it taught mortals the shape of desire.

But even voices tire of being echoed.

One day, the siren loved.

And sirens do not love gently.

It gave up everything—voice, power, divinity. Tore the music from its own throat and drowned it in the deep. All for the chance to be near. To touch, and be touched. To be known.

But mortals are faithless things.

She loved another.

And the siren—mute, undone—was left to wander the salt-thick shadows of its sacrifice. Alone. Eternal. Forgotten.

And so the sea learned vengeance.

The voice that once sang the world into bloom now hums lullabies to ruin.

There are still sirens. Not many. Not whole.

Somewhere, one swims in silence, beautiful as a sin the gods refuse to name. He does not sing. He waits.

For her. For you.

For the one who will hear him—without a voice.

𝐓𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝… — © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐛𝐲 𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰

[spncreations]

Welcome to spn creations!

A new blog to share GRAPHICS, and other creative supernatural edits like picspams, posters, icons, fanmixes, gifs, etc. Our mission is to build a fun supportive community, where you (yes, you!) and all spn fans feel welcome and encouraged to be inspired, create and participate. Let's set our differences aside and share some love! We host a year-round creation challenge with biweekly fresh prompts to get your creative juices flowing.

Our FIRST PROMPT will run from MAY 9 (tonight!) to MAY 23 and is as follows:

FAVORITE CHARACTER + A QUOTE BY THEM

To participate simply make a graphic (or other visually creative edit) that fits the prompt, and tag it with #spncreations. Feel inspired by this prompt any way you like. It's meant to get you in the flow of creating again, so don't put too much pressure on it. Feel free to experiment with new styles, or go for something safe. As always we will accept late submissions. A new prompt will be shared after the mentioned deadline.

⚠️ Be aware: standard gifsets/caps/edits, scenes of the show with realistic coloring and subtitles, or with little to no editing, will NOT be reblogged. Your skill level is not important, but creativity & style are. You do not have to make it complicated (often, less is more!), but do give your edit a creative twist in terms of composition, coloring, cropping, text, etc, to make it look artsy.

Under the read more you will find a short faq. More questions? Drop us a dm or ask. Need inspiration? Make sure to follow us! We have 5000+ spn creations from the past 15 years queued to be shared with you. Happy creating!❤️

FAQ: Are there any limits to what I can create?

AI is not allowed, your work must be your own

All edits must be about Supernatural and its characters. This includes extended material like the prequel, the novels, comics, etc, but excludes the real-world like actors or the crew. You don't have to limit yourself to canon events: be inspired by songs, fics, headcanons, ships, au's or any visions you have.

Sporadically we also share fanart, please acknowledge this is an exception to the rule and not what the prompts are for.

NO HATE. This includes show/character/fandom bashing. A bit of criticism is fine, but try to twist it into something positive (e.g. create something based on what you would rather have seen)

Don't post hole unless its dean's deep dark nothing he cant fill. Visual implications of horizontal tangos are fine, but keep it tasteful.

What if I don't want to see [x]? We will tag all posts so you can blacklist and filter as you please. Click here for mobile navigation. We are a fandom wide archive and will therefore host a wide variety of posts, preferences, ships, headcanons and ideas. If you see a post you don't like, please ignore it. If you can't be respectful towards others, we do not want you here.

Where can I find screencaps? Homeofthenutty and kissthemgoodbye.net both have a large collection of unedited screencaps ready to use. Feel free to drop in our DM's if you're looking for something specific you can't find. Please do not get your pictures from pinterest, as these are often uncredited edits by someone else.

Anything else? Have fun!

[hyperfixate-on-ninjas]

It’s been years yet somehow only now did I have a revelation with Lloyd having Lightning as his dominant Element when he had the Four Elements of Creation.

And it took @wanderingapathy’s post about Jay’s powers for me to realize that-

So like in Legacy of the Green Ninja- the first Element Lloyd learns to control is actually lightning. Though he summoned Earth, that was by accident. The first time they started training him, it was when they were training LIGHTNING.

Even then they were teaching Lloyd to control and suppress it so it fits the voltage of the Light Bulb. The reason why it kept exploding was because Lloyd didn’t know how to control how much voltage he was giving the Light Bulb. Aka he was adding too much causing it to explode faster. (High Voltage than a light bulb’s capacity causes it to explode quicker than one with Low Voltage.)

And I think that’s something Lloyd STILL does. From a Storyboard/Writing perspective of course they had to Nerf Lloyd a lot for the sake of storytelling. (Even though I highly disagree, you can make a character OP and still have them struggle.) but in lore it could be that Lloyd is also following the same tactic.

In earlier seasons we see that whenever Lloyd tries to activate his powers he actually has to charge them up, just like we’re seeing Jay doing cause he’s struggling to get a hold of his powers.

Over the course of the series, Lloyd’s energy projectiles gradually become more faster for him to shoot, to the point that in DR he’s actually spamming it against Ras.

Which could imply that Lloyd is suppressing the strength of his ACTUAL power than what he’s projecting. Time and Time again the writers, the show and the lore all tell us Lloyd is OP as hell but we barely even see it outside of projectiles.

But if it follows the same logic as lightning, where Lightning is actually a very powerful element that requires great control and suppression then Lloyd could be following Jay’s example and actually suppressing his powers to a more controlled state so we don’t have an incident like Jay blowing up the South Wing of the Monastery. (Though…where is the South Wing in the Monastery? Did Jay blow up a mountain???)

WHICH ALSO EXPLAINS WHY LIGHTNING IS LLOYD’S DOMINANT ELEMENT.

(I know Tommy says it’s not canon but I’m beginning to doubt that as of right now bro we’ve only see him actively use Earth and Lightning, Fire and Ice were kinda just…shown one time…and in the intro.)

(Also it kinda is a nod to the fact that Jay was originally going to be the Green Ninja.)

So yeah, basically the ones who know the real inner workings on how Lightning works is Lloyd and Jay. Yet one has amnesia and the other can only keep those lessons to himself. (I think the Ninja know the basics, but not like the full capabilities considering they’ve never actually wielded each other’s element outside of the ToS)

[hihimihwa]

Fic fanart for @sentient-stove 's "All In (my heart's in your hand)

(Spoilers up to the first book of Trials of Apollo)

(Ramblings and more doodles below)

XjDJSNKDSM OMG THIS FIC!! YOU HAVE MY HEART IN YOUR HANDS!!

Did more justice than canon like SERIOUSLY!!! I love love LOVE their relationship here, the no strings are attached but no, THERE ARE STRINGS!! THEY'RE ALL IN AND THE HOUSE ALWAYS WINS!!!

I reread this time and time again wishing this is canon. Please.. I reread MoA and i hate the last chapter so much... Nico literally comforted Leo like "they're still alive." And I was gonna draw a comic bec it was SUCH a good and rare valdangelo moment BUT THEN RIGHT AFTER THAT LEO WENT "Nico is so creepy he gives me the heeby jeebies" SHUT UP this fic's leo is the real Leo i don't accept canon Leo

I love how they understand each other so much that when they're alone with other people their only thought is just "omg i wish leo/nico was here he'd understand me :(" DJSBSJSB YOUR HONOR THEY'RE IN LOVE

AND THE FATE STRINGS PLOT LINE!! It's so interesting it kind of made Leo's whole resurrection A LOT MORE impactful. In this fic, Leo was literally cursed to die. His whole life was for that one momenf of defeating Gaea. He died before he really got to live. That last chapter of Nico meeting Leo - WITHOUT a death aura - such a happy ending..

SPEAKING OF THAT LAST CHAPTER. WHEN ANNABETH SHOWED NICO THE MORSE CODE. "Nico.. he loved you so much." MY HEARTTTTT MY HEART MY HEART.

[jyndor]

okay forGET the pre-andor cassian backstory being stolen from us, whatever. EVEN with the kenari backstory, even with ferrix, IT MAKES NO SENSE for cassian to "need" someone else to make him commit to the rebellion.

jesus christ just age his ass down in s1 to 16 or 17, have all of these arcs occur shortly after he joins up for real (17-19) and then it sort of works better.

the cassian we see is EXHAUSTED. holding on desperately to hope because he has been following orders, orders when he knows they're wrong as jyn says, for so long that he has to literally have a DEEPLY pivotal moment in the eadu rain to cleanse him of his "sins" and tranform into a new man, a man who rejects orders when he thinks they are wrong. THAT is why that scene is so powerful! because everything about cassian in rogue one leading up to that moment screams exhaustion and desperation.

it's bad enough that with the retcons in s1, cassian is basically a middle class guy (even if he is a refugee) talking down to a literal former child soldier who is homeless at 16, who has been let down by the rebellion time and again. for him to do that when he is supposedly way older than jyn when he FINALLY commits to the rebellion?

forget how insulting it is to have bix caleen, a literal crack comms girlie and mechanic (both skills that are seriously necessary in revolutions), basically play housewife the whole season except when she's being sexually assaulted, getting high and randomly having her girl boss 2015 era bad bitch scene that makes NO sense for her either. but to have CASSIAN, a literal indigenous refugee of genocide "need" to have anyone else explain to him the necessity of revolution (aka s1) or to have anyone force him to commit to revolution is not only insulting, it DOES NOT TRACK WITH ROGUE ONE AT ALL.

it turns him into a guy who actually is completely wrong for snapping back at jyn on eadu. in the scene, they are both wrong and both right - and they are lashing out in a moment of vulnerability and honesty. it should be a massive payoff after 24 episodes of a cassian andor prequel.

i'm not worried about MY enjoyment of rogue one after andor because i'm in the rogue one fandom - ignoring dumbass canon is like rule #1 of this fandom lmfao. i can handwave and ignore a lot of nonsense. and I will - already to me this shit is cassian as a teenager, fuck it. but I wonder if when andor fans begin to do the marathons of andor into rogue one, if we might start to hear more conflicting feelings on how smooth the transition from the show to the film is.

there are people who have never seen rogue one and who are waiting to watch it when andor ends. i mean i feel for them tbh because i doubt the payoff is actually going to work as well as it did pre-andor.

jyn and cassian are the heart of rogue one. i happen to think that it is a love story, as it clearly was always INTENDED to be one, but even if someone doesn't think that... it's clear their relationship is the core of rogue one. unless the final arc sticks the landing and jyn erso starts to haunt the narrative again (because where the fuck has her presence been in s2??? s1 had her all over it) i feel like the sudden connection between jyn and cassian is gonna come out of left field for more casual viewers of rogue one after andor.

i still have not finished this arc but i will be tonight. and im sure im gonna be mad lol

[camcat1320]

I believe Zutara was going to be canon in Book 4 but then the show was quietly cancelled due to shipping wars in the writer's room. I'm currently writing a fanfiction of what I think Book 4 would've been like.

I think canon Zutara would've made Zuko's redemption arc better and more nuanced.

Aang would ask for romantic advice and Zuko would become his wingman. Zuko would try to get Aang closer to Katara, going as far as lying to make Aang look better.

Zuko would be in denial about his feelings and Toph would reveal that he is lying to himself. Zuko would battle with his self-worth and struggle with determining whether his true nature is good or bad (spoiler, we are all light and dark, not wholy one or the other ☯️).

If Zuko pursued Katara, it'd be selfish and he'd be stabbing Aang in the back. So he bottles up his feelings for Katara and buries them. He wants to be a good friend to Aang and not hurt him. Besides, a waterbender and a firebender? That could never work.

Then the team would see Yu Dao, the mixing of Fire and Earth cultures. And then suddenly, it feels like an even more real possibility that Fire and Water can mix after all.

Katara and Zuko would talk and the truth would come out. Katara would then kiss Zuko. Zuko must choose in this moment, does he return Katara's feelings or does he push her away again? Does Zuko accept Katara and betray Aang or does he turn down Katara and not hurt Aang? Does he choose himself or his friend?

Zuko kisses her back.

Did Zuko choose wrong? Is he selfish? Did he do the right thing? Either way, someone was going to get hurt. Does Zuko deserve happiness and love? All this and more!!

Actually I do wonder what canon zutara would've meant for Zukos redemption arc. Do you think people would say he only changed because of a crush on a girl. Would his arc have been ruined? Would it have been less impactful? Would it have been even better? Would the emotional impact have been stronger, or worse, or just different?

[mystycalypso]

Tumblr, I need your opinionnn

So, I finally decided to look at twitter to see if Ian did ever drop a canon name and- no one updated the wiki, only to see him say "he genuinely has no canon civilian name"

AND UH- ...I KINDA NEED ONE FOR REASONS (That DEFINITELY don't involve me rewriting my DND character again to match my friends bullshit levels of 'I'm genuinely just inserting this character from a media I'm autistic for) so, I've got it down to a couple names I think would fit him well

I will be using this name across the board for simplicity's sake. Across Let's Swap!, post finale stuff, just- in general towards this man.

And I feel like it only makes sense to have you guys help pick the result

I am trusting all of you to vibe check tf out of this man and choose wisely.

Please keep in mind, these names were all picked as- names I think would work well both with his vibe and as 'white boy with dark hair' names. Obviously, this also isn't an end all be all poll either so if you don't see any names you think would fit your ideas for Venomous, that's fine ^^ this is just for my personal work so we can give this man a real name when it works well.

[karmacharmeleon18]

I think it's good to call out the gratuitous amount of SA in this series. Obviously I love these books, I wouldn't be here if I didn't, but there really is far too much SA in them for it to not be criticised. Obviously SA is something that can happen in a story and it's not inherently bad for a writer to include it especially if it is portrayed as a traumatic and evil thing, which for the most part it is. But there's just.... Too much of it. I always had issue with the "I was seven" thing bc it's one random scene that tells us that Drake was in fact NOT the only person to rape Andrew, and it was so unnecessary?? Being raped by one person is traumatic enough, him being raped before at an even younger age added NOTHING to the story other than shock value, especially seeing as it's NEVER mentioned again and Drake is portrayed as the biggest villain of Andrew's past, we don't even know who that other person was. And quite honestly Jean being an SA survivor is unnecessary too, because all the stuff he endured at the nest was already traumatic enough and even without rape he suffered more than any other raven (eg waterboarding). That being said I think the way Nora has handled Jean's SA so far has been okay, not perfect but I don't have major issues personally, but you're absolutely right that the gratuitous amount of SA in these books certainly attracts a certain type of fan. I've seen so many people theorising that characters who haven't canonically been raped actually have and we just don't know about it. Obviously that Thea anon, I've seen people theorising about Neil, and about Jeremy (obviously Jeremy has his own issues with sex, but it's a bit more nuanced than full on rape, I saw people theorising Bryson raped him 🥴). Like, it's enough guys, we don't need every character in this series to be a rape survivor, it's more than enough that BOTH main romances include a rape survivor

Couldn't have said it better 🙌🏾

Jeremy having a history of CSA is actually my biggest FEAR - not a theory or hc tho, just a straight up fear - because I know how much Nora is obsessed with it... and I hate that a fear like this is actually a concrete possibility in this series 😭😭 sometimes I wonder why, why did I have to like a series that inflicts so much emotional damage on me? 🥲

Shock value is honestly the best way to explain how Nora generally handles rape (in the extra content as well). She just sees it as a character trait that makes a character more interesting and it's disturbing at this point

(Especially her obsession with CSA, specifically repeated CSA... what Andrew went through because of the Spears is BAD ENOUGH NORA GODDAMMIT)

One of my biggest thrills for this new series was to see how Nora had matured as a writer and I have to say... not much? Not only writing-style wise (which I actually appreciate, she's consistent and that's good considering the new books are a direct continuation of the old ones) but also in the way she sees these very important, terrible real life issues as just something to use to make her characters interesting...

Rape is not simply something her characters go through.

It's something they need to endure, otherwise she doesn't think they're worth writing about.

(And maybe that's why Thea is such a non-character... she was just in an abusive cult, after all)

That's my biggest issue with her as a writer.

She uses rape not because she wants to portray a character's healing journey, but because rape is needed for them to be her main characters at all. Without it, they wouldn't be interesting enough for her to write about (which she has admitted to in the past)

I hoped we would see a different, more self-aware and respectful side of Nora

But "shock value" and "torture porn" are still the best way to describe her books. Which is why I never recommend them to anyone

I too think the way she handled Jean's history is overall ok. But I have some major issues, namely Grayson and Zane showing up again (Grayson in particular). That was absolutely unnecessary imo and goes back to the gratuitous amounts of sa/mentions of sa 😕

Nora uses rape/the threat of it/mentions of it to continuously torture her characters on page and after a certain point it becomes just exhausting to read

(Drake, Proust, Grayson...)

We get it, Nora. I promise we get it. No need to keep tormenting your characters and us with it.

At this point it's less about a character's healing journey and more about a character's continuous suffering. It does feel like she has a fetish for it :/

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 11 - Twice The Heart

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: field trip episodes i love you. Enjoy!

Chapter Title from Just One Yesterday by Fall Out Boy

Word Count: 14k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Bucky makes a call, and you both go on a... friend date.

Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff

Chapter 10 - Chapter 12

Read on A03!

Precautions were being taken. 

That had been the first, blatant, obvious attack. Not just cryptic letters to induce fear. An attempt to take Her.  

Hogan was upping the building security. Same-grade metal detectors they’d used at Stark’s compound, before it got blown up. Increased vetting on bags, and a panic button in Her office. Firm and thorough background checks into every single person who directly reported to Her, and new badges issued to select staff, allowing them up to Her office. If anyone else wanted an appointment, they’d have to do it online. 

It had been floated that they simply stop allowing Her to have meetings. Hogan, Sam, and Bucky had been sat around a table to debrief, Hogan had floated shutting down all non-vital appointments, and Buck hadn’t bothered to try and hide his snort. 

“Something funny, Barnes?”

Sam had sighed, and Bucky had just shrugged.

“Just how horribly that’ll work out for you.”

Hogan had said Her name with a glower. “She’s in danger. She’s afraid. If we tell her this is to keep her safe-“

“You think she’ll roll over and take it?” Bucky had raised his brows. “You’re just gonna be making more work for all of us. She won’t stop working unless we tie her to a chair, and I don’t think any of us want to do that.”

“You’re a super-solider.” Hogan had snapped. “And she’s got a big bark, but that’s all it is. If we don’t overcorrect then dial back, we might under correct and something will slip past us.”

Bucky’s jaw had clenched. “Nothing’s going to slip past me.”

“Not if we make sure she’s on lockdown, it won’t.”

“Hogan,” Sam had muttered, giving Bucky an odd look before he continued. “Bucky’s right. I’ve known her longer than either of you, and if you force her to sit on her ass, she’s gonna cut off her ass and keep going.”

Hogan’s nose had wrinkled. “That’s a… horrible and graphic metaphor.”

“But it stands.” 

“I’m not sure it does-“

“It does.” Bucky had grunted, and he could still almost feel Her in his arms. Shaking and small and nervous, not long after She’d snapped at him to stop telling Her what to do. She’d push it. She’d push it right to the edge, then a little over until She fell.

And Bucky would catch Her. He’d gotten pretty damn good at catching Her. He’d even gotten good at anticipating the fall. If they did put Her on lockdown, he’d be able to keep Her there. He was a super-solider. There was no situation where She’d get this physical up on him. 

But She’d glare and sneer and bite at him, if he forced Her to stay down. And whatever they’d been building, whatever had been making Her trust him, it would be smashed. She might never smile at him again. If She spoke to him, it wouldn’t be like some sort of loud, consuming cure.

Bucky was good at his job. And his mission was to keep Her safe, so he wouldn’t fail. Not for anything.  

That wasn’t what he said though. Hogan had been glaring at him, and Sam had been giving him an even odder look, but Bucky hadn’t wavered on his position.

He just kept the real reason he didn’t want to lock Her up to himself. Sam and Hogan didn’t need to know that half of Bucky’s thoughts now just circled around Her. All the things he could do for Her, to Her, with Her. How whenever he saw Miles with Her, even heard the asshole’s name, he could taste fucking bile. 

It might be that jealously he wasn’t supposed to be feeling.

He didn’t really care either way.

Bucky had bigger things to worry about than how—every time She looked at him, laughed with him, said his name or brushed Her fingers over his arm—he was made of a wildfire that burned only for Her. 

“If we try to lock her up,” Bucky had grunted, holding Hogan’s gaze. “We’ll just lose her. She’s smarter than us. She’ll slip out, and we’ll lose any chance of keeping her safe.”

“So don’t let her slip out.” Hogan had snapped, and Bucky had shaken his head.

“I’m not looking to let her slip out. But she’s quick, and even these are going to be hard to get her to agree with. Don’t push it.”

Hogan had scowled. “I’m not doing a negotiation, Barnes. This is for her own good-“

Sam had snorted. “Yeah, tell her it’s for her own good. I’m sure that won’t end with a stapler in your forehead.”

“I don’t care if it does.” Hogan had sat a little taller, glaring between Bucky and Sam with a tight sort of destress. “We already slipped up once. That guy was one of ours. Director of marketing. If he’d gotten her, that would’ve been on my hands. And I promised Tony I’d look after her. It was in his fucking will. That if she’s doesn’t live to a million years old with a hundred cats, he’ll rise from the grave and murder me.”

Sam had frowned. “That ain’t how wills work-“

“Didn’t matter to Tony.” Hogan had grunted. “She not allowed to get fucking killed-“

“They weren’t trying to kill her.” Bucky had cut Hogan off with low words. “That was a knockout gas. They were trying to take her. Whatever they want from her, they want it alive.”

There had been a long, taut movement of silence, all of them staring at each other as it sunk in.

“That’s… a hell of a lot worse, isn’t it.” Sam had muttered. “Hydra doesn’t do prisoners.”

Bucky had given a tight nod. “But I’m not going to let that happen.” He’d focused on Hogan, trying to do the raise your chin and leave no room for argument thing She did. It didn’t feel that effective, so Bucky moved all his command into his voice. “But if you make it so I have to keep her safe from herself and Hydra, it won’t end in our favor.”

Hogan had scowled, eyeing Bucky wearily. “You’ve been taking days off?”

“Sunday and Monday.”

“Fine. I’ll give up on some of the measures, if you either drop your rest-days, or get a substitute guard-“

“I’ll drop the days.”

That had been an easy decision. More time with Her. More reasons to see Her, and talk to Her, and look at Her. 

More chances to keep Her safe. 

Because She really was in danger. That was the one thing they’d all been able to agree on. If Hydra wanted Her alive, She was in a lot more danger than they’d thought. 

Bucky had never seen a case of that before. He’d done a lot of fucked up shit in Hydra’s name, but kidnapping had somehow never made its way onto the roster. The Soldat often scratched with memories of when Hydra wanted something, but they’d only ever wanted information. Information that would be on a hard-drive Bucky could steal, or in a head that Bucky could torture open, kill, and then report back. But they’d only been looking to knock Her out. That could be to bring Her to a secondary location, but if they just wanted information, Bucky couldn’t imagine what it would be.

They obviously had plants in Stark Industries. And She didn’t have any ex-S.H.I.E.L.D connections, or any access to the kind of Stark Technology that Hydra would want. She worked for the charity. And if Hydra wanted money, they’d be putting their efforts into getting it fast, instead of risking this exact scenario. Where everyone on Her side was on high alert, and they were going to have to work harder for what they wanted.

That didn’t line up either. When Hydra wanted something, they were never this sloppy about it. This desperate. In any other case, Bucky would’ve had a solid estimate for what all this meant. 

But he didn’t have a goddamn clue. None of the information he had was lining up. She certainly didn’t have that doomsdays weapons Sam had mentioned, or access to any previous Hydra projects. She definitely wasn’t Hydra herself—Bucky dreaded the moment She remembered he’d thought that, because She might rip him in half—and She didn’t really have anyone that would sell Her-

Miles. 

Fucking Miles.

Bucky needed to keep a harsher eye on Miles. He might still be unsure of when he’d have enough of a place to say something—about how Miles treated Her, about how She deserved better, about how when She was ready for better, Bucky was right fucking here—but this wasn’t about Bucky’s growing hunger for Her. This was about his mission. 

Keep Her safe. From Hydra, and Herself, and anything else. 

He had no evidence Miles was up to something. Just the boiling and twisting feeling in his gut. But he’d work on that.

For now, all Bucky knew was that whatever Hydra wanted, it started and ended with Her. 

And he’d been getting nightmares.

New nightmares. 

Where the face of whatever long dead person Bucky had tortured as the Soldat shifted into Her face, and he couldn’t stop himself for carving Her up. Where they were on the street, Bucky looked away for one fucking second, and then She vanished. Then Bucky would tear through crowds, but he could never fucking find Her. 

Worst, where Bucky did find Her, and all the life was gone from Her beautiful face. 

And She wasn’t dead.

She was just a shell. And Pierce or Rumlow or Karpov—no matter that they were all long dead—were wrapped around Her with venomous smiles. Touching Her. And She just stood there, a hollow void in Her eyes where the Moon used to be.

Bucky wouldn’t let that happen. He’d rip off his other arm before he let anything like that happen. 

So Hogan got almost all of his measures, save for the one’s She’d actively fight against. Sam was going to be moving all his efforts into working on the Hydra code. Bucky was going to keep by Her side. 

And Her secrets. Their secrets.

Bucky had somehow worked himself into a position where they had secrets. 

“I hate this.” She muttered, lying flat on the floor with a cute little scowl. “I feel like I’m in a fucking prison.”

“You wanted to be here, Butterfly.” Bucky drawled, letting his amusement creep into his voice. “You coulda stayed at home-“

“No. We- I’d rather be here.” She wrinkled Her nose at the ceiling. “Doesn’t meant I have to like it. And don’t,” She leaned Her head back a little further, narrowing Her eyes at Bucky. “Tell me it’s for my safety. I got the lecture from Sam and Happy. If you give it to me, I’ll throw you off the roof.”

Bucky chuckled. “I don’t think you could pull that off, kid.“

“I could. I told you, Buck. I’m wily. So don’t fucking test me.”

Her glower was adorable. All of this was adorable. Her finger pointed up at Bucky, the slight pout of Her lips, and how She wasn’t moving from the floor as She threatened him. Hogan really had been right about that. Her bark was loud and strong, but Her bite seemed to be limited to Her words. And whatever threats She was making, Bucky knew they were hollow. 

That didn’t seem to stop Her from making them.

And Jesus, it only drove him a little more insane. Made him imagine Her tackling him, and he’d pry Her off his body with ease before laying Her back down and pinning Her to the floor. Just like She’d been on the couch, during the attack. Just like She was now, only Bucky wouldn’t be keeping himself at a respectable distance. He’d be pulling Her apart with fingers deep in Her cunt, making Her shake with pleasure rather than fear, and She’d shine for him. Bucky would work Her until She was relaxed and glowing under him, and he’d take good fucking care of Her-

He needed to stop. He couldn’t think about Her like that. It barely made him better than the suits, or the men in his nightmare. She was more than that. She was a smart mouth and a lot of giggling.

But maybe She’d giggle under Bucky. Maybe he’d tease Her, and She’d giggle for him-

He was going to throw himself off the roof. 

“James-“

“No testing you.” He said, smirking down at Her because he couldn’t fucking help himself. “Got it.”

“Good.” She frowned up at him, and he didn’t break Her gaze. At least he had a good excuse to look at Her, now. “I’ve got the papers, by the way. Do you- Can I show them to you?”

He gave a short nod—looking at the papers was the whole point of the meeting, but She was too cute and nervous to correct or tease—and She let out a long breath, pushing up on Her palms.

“Have you-“

“Sam doesn’t know.” Bucky muttered, offering Her a hand. 

She took it.

She let Bucky help Her up. And he’d used the metal hand, but it was still spreading the fuzzy, aching warmth over his body. 

Christ, he was fucked. 

“Okay. I brought the papers. And Miles- Don’t make that face.”

Bucky scowled. “I didn’t make a face.”

“Yes, you did.” She crossed Her arms, raising Her chin. That was how the no room for argument thing was supposed to look. “You made the disapproving face.”

“I don’t have a disapproving face-“

“Yes, you do.” She took a step forward, and Bucky froze as Her hand lifted up to his face. “You get lines here, and your mouth does a line like that.”

She was touching him. Tracing over his nose and cheeks. This was worse than Her touching his arm. This was so much fucking worse. Bucky could only stare at Her with wide eyes, trying not to lick his lips when She was this close. He could smell Her shampoo again. And when Her feather-light touch moved over his brow—pushing it into a wrinkle as She kept talking about his alleged disapproving face—Bucky felt a little fucking dizzy. 

He didn’t know how to move away. He should move away. This wasn’t helping him hold onto control, and She had a boyfriend. A boyfriend they were talking about, right now.

A boyfriend who wouldn’t touch Her like Bucky could, if he grabbed Her wrist and crashed his lips into Hers. Miles probably didn’t give Her anything. Bucky would give Her whatever She asked for, then have Her begging for more—bouncing on his cock with Her tits in his mouth, and Her face open and fucked out as Bucky gave Her everything—and his cock was twitching in his pants, but he couldn’t think about his friend like that-

“I know you don’t like him.” She mumbled, still not drawing Her hand back. “Sam doesn’t either. Just please don’t make that face.”

Bucky just grunted, forcing down a shout of then why are you with him. 

It didn’t slip past him, though. How She wasn’t asking Bucky to give Miles a chance. Just to not make that face. 

He added that to his log. He wasn’t sure what to do with it, but he added it all the same.

“Bucky-“

“Fine.” he grumbled, keeping his eyes locked on Her’s. “What were you gonna say.”

She sighed, and—in both a mercy and a torture—drew Her hand back. “Miles thinks I’m here to do work. I still haven’t told him about this, and if he shows up, I need you to hide.”

Bucky blinked at Her. “To hide.”

“Yes, please.” She gave him a smile that was filled with sorrow. And he didn’t understand why, but the Moon was rolling around in Her eyes, She was slumping slightly, and there was something so soft and sad all over Her features, to the point it might drive him insane.

He could push it.

He could demand to know why the hell She was so sad.

But Bucky was already about to push it. To test his luck. And She was still so fragile. 

He couldn’t afford to break Her. It might be the worst sin he’d ever commit. 

“Fine.” He muttered, and Her smile grew. 

“Thank you.”

Bucky grunted. He didn’t want Her thanks. He just wanted to make things better. “Papers?”

She nodded, walking back to Her desk and pulling out a stack of loose papers from Her bag. “I, um- I didn’t think anyone else would be reading them. So they’re kind of in a shorthand, and-“

“I’ll figure it out.” Bucky took the papers, scanning over the top one. “Lotta numbers.”

“Yeah, um, most of it is numbers.”

Bucky hummed, dropping down onto the couch as he continued to read.

She was silent above him. Too silent. And still. When Bucky glanced up at Her, She had her hands behind Her back, Her head slightly bowed as she watched him, and Her lips were in a tight, nervous pout.

It made Bucky’s gut clench and twist. “Sit down.”

She blinked at him, but listened. In barely a second, She was right at Bucky’s side. Legs folded under Her, fingers rubbing at Her own skin, watching him with wide doe-eyes. 

Jesus Christ. 

She’d never listened to him that fast, without some sort of threat bouncing over their heads. The wildfire was searing, where Her knee was bumping against his. Bucky’s fist curled at his side—hidden from Her sight—because all he could think about was grabbing Her. Pulling Her right into his chest until Hydra was something blurred in the distance for both of them. Until She had to be safe, because Bucky was wrapped around Her all the time. The same way Miles had been in Sam’s kitchen, only he’d never shove Her away. And She’d be doing most of the talking, and Bucky would just kiss along Her neck, sucking little marks for everyone to see. To know She was under his protection, and they wanted to even look at Her in a way She wouldn’t want, they’d have to go through Bucky first.

Bucky was looking at Her in a way She might not want. He wasn’t any better than the suits, and all the men who’d been forced into bed with. He might be worse. She trusted him, and he was fantasizing about shoving his face between Her legs-

Control.

Bucky cleared his throat, making sure any lingering want was gone by the time he spoke. “Here’s the deal, Butterfly. You ready?”

She nodded, Her eyes still wide on his, and Bucky raised his brows.

“Words would be nice, sweetheart.” He made his voice a drawl. A taunt. Those always spurred Her on the best. “Where’d that smart mouth go?”

All he got was a fucking flush. She wasn’t making this easy. “I’m ready,” She whispered, and Bucky really wanted to know where this version of Her had been the whole time. 

It was a little like a bird. Sweet and beautiful, with an enchanting voice and so high above Bucky. Even if it landed on his shoulder, it could flutter away with one wrong move. He liked it almost as much as the feral parts of Her. Maybe he could blend them together, with the right touches and words.

He really was losing his mind.

“Alright.” He cleared his throat again, forcing his attention back to the papers. Focus. “We’re not gonna tell Sam. Business as usual, as far as he’s concerned. And it’s not cause we’re hiding it from him, but-“

“That sounds exactly like hiding it from him.” She said, a small, teasing smile back on Her face, and that was better. Bucky liked this version of Her too, even if it drove him insane. 

He’d been insane before anyway.

At least this kind of insane had Her. Felt good.

“It’s not.” He grumbled, and Her grin grew. “We’re just forgetting to tell him.”

“And if he asks?”

“He won’t.”

She giggled. “Solid plan, Sargent.”

“Shut the hell up.”

“Smooth-“

Bucky drawled Her name, narrowing his eyes, and She cut herself off. Fucking hell, She might actually just be a Hydra asset, sent Her to be beautiful and give Bucky a heart-attack. “You gonna listen?”

Her nod was small, and the doe-eyes were back. “Yes.”

“Good.” Bucky forced himself to ignore Her flush. Friends. “If Sam finds out, he’ll stop us from looking into this. He obviously doesn’t want you tangled in the actual operation, and I’ve been told to focus on keeping you safe-

“Awww.” She grinned at him. “You want me to be safe-“

Bucky covered Her mouth with a hand and shot Her a firm glare. He’d seen the nerves all over Her pretty face. Knew that if they were talking about Her personal safety, she wouldn’t want to hear it. He wasn’t even sure She could help herself from pushing it, from trying to squirm Her way out of the conversation, even if She’d started it.

But this was Bucky’s mission.

He wasn’t going to fail it for anything.

And She didn’t push him away. The look in Her eyes wasn’t afraid or angry. It was only the Moon shining, and a triumphant sort of pride turning with it. The wildfire was going to turn into a fucking hurricane of flame and need. Bucky was screwed.

“Of course I want you to be safe.” He grumbled. She wasn’t allowed to think anything else of him. “So listen. If Sam finds out we’re doing this, he’ll stop us. So, until we’ve got something solid, we keep this between us. Got it?”

She nodded, and Bucky sighed, pulling his hand down.

“Sorry.” He scanned over Her carefully. “Needed you to listen.”

She just shrugged, and Bucky wasn’t sure if that was another flush, or if he was going insane. “That’s okay. I wouldn’t shut up-“

“Don’t care about that.” He grunted, forcing his gaze back to the papers. “You were tryin’ to see if you could distract me.”

She gave a mock gasp. “I would never.”

Bucky shot Her an amused look, a chuckle escaping his chest before he could stop it. “Sure, Butterfly. Here.”

She frowned as Bucky reached down to his bag, but he’d come prepared for this. She wouldn’t try to talk her way around things if he distracted Her. Occupied Her with her order from the deli, and a cherry coke, and-

Her eyes widened as Bucky pulled out the paint pens, and shoved them into Her hands.

“James-“

“You can draw on my arm if you fucking listen. Deal?”

“But the tech-“ “It’s resilient. I’ll clean it after. Deal?”

She looked between Bucky’s set, determined face–he would get Her to focus, even if it fucking killed him—and the pens. Then She nodded, and Bucky grinned.

He won. She would listen.

Bonus—horrible, selfish bonus—She’d be touching him.

“Alright. Here’s what we’re gonna do.” Bucky extended his metal arm, and She hummed, tracing over the metal plates with too gentle fingers. 

He took it back. This was already a horrible idea. She trailed over the hook of his elbow, and he was going to lose his goddamn mind. 

Control.

Bucky coughed, and forced himself back into control.

“I’ll look over these, and see if I recognize anything. Then I’ll work out what we’ll do about Zemo, but I’m telling you now,” he said Her name, and She looked up to him with big doe-eyes again. 

Shit. 

“I, uh-“ Control. “I’m not bringing Sam here. And if it can be avoided, we’re not talkin’ to him at all. Got it?”

“Okay.” She nodded, looking back down to Bucky’s arm and drawing a little pink heart on it. “What else?”

“Uh.” Bucky cleared his throat, staring at the pattern She was starting to make around the black and gold of his arm. It was made of more hearts, and flowers, and strange little star shapes. It was almost half as beautiful as She was. “We need to have a conversation.”

“We’re having a conversation right now, Buck.”

Fuck. “No. I mean, yes, but-“ He could do this. He could push it, and deal with the consequences. “It’s a… personal. Conversation.”

She paused, blinking up at him with Her hand still on his forearm. It was a goddamn miracle he was thinking straight at all. “What kind of personal conversation?”

“We need to figure out why Hydra might be targeting you.” He muttered, holding Her gaze. “And I know you’re private-“

“No, I’m not.”

It was Bucky’s turn to blink. “Yes, you are-“

“No, I’m not.” She looked back to Her pens with a slightly softer voice. “We just weren’t friends. And I… I dunno. I how what you’ve been through. Bitching about how I tried to kill myself a few times felt... uncouth.”

Bucky could only stare at Her, even his head stuttering over words. All he could manage was a slightly dumb, “Uncouth?”

“Really rude.”

“Ah.” He still felt a little like his brain was doing a sort of scratching, uneven short-stop. Like a bad record on a player. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe Bucky was a cyborg.

“Are you-“

“I’m fine.” He grunted, forcing himself to find some words. “What- Uh- Does anyone know about it?”

“The killing myself?”

“Yeah.”

She paused, scanning over him carefully. “Do you want the real answer, or the comfortable one?”

“Real.” Buck didn’t hesitate before he answered. He didn’t care what She offered him, as long as it was real. And he didn’t back down, as She stared at him for another long second. 

She relented with a sigh. “My parents knew about two of them, when they were with me. Charlie knows about one. Sam knows about almost all of them.”

That was good. At least Sam knew. But- “Almost?”

“There was one during the blip.” She mumbled. “I just… Never told him. He’d get annoyed that I hid it for so long, then angry at Tony for letting it happen, and that wouldn’t be helpful cause Tony’s dead, and I never told him either. I was just lonely. In a lot of pain, and really- It was hard. And Sam shouldn’t blame himself for not being there.” She paused, frowning up at Bucky. “Please don’t tell him.”

“I won’t.” Bucky grunted, and he wouldn’t. She’d trusted him. He wouldn’t break that. He’d only file it that deep in his log, and highlighted safe from Herself on the bylines his mission. “I have a question.”

“I might have an answer.”

“Charlie is your… brother.”

“Sibling.” She pressed another flower onto Bucky’s arm. “Non-binary. That means-“

“I know what I means.” Bucky muttered. “Sam made me take a sensitivity course. Not that I needed it.” His words were quick, but if Bucky was going to stick around—and he wanted to—She couldn’t think that he wouldn’t be good to people. Bucky was angry and bitter at people, but he’d always tried to be good. Wasn’t much point in better if he didn’t. “But Sam still wanted me to.”

“Okay.” She hummed, offering Bucky a small smile that nearly knocked the air of his lungs. “What am I supposed to tell you?”

Bucky stared at Her for a little too long before he realized what She was talking about. The personal conversation.

The whole point of this. 

“Whatever you can.” He said carefully, watching Her for a reaction as he spoke. “Anything. I mean, I still don’t know how you met Sam” 

Bucky tried to offer Her a smile, and it came out too tight, but She didn’t seem to mind. 

She just hummed, matching it with Her perfect, artful smile and slow words. She was thinking, as She spoke. 

And it didn’t seem to be to hide something. 

She was just taking this seriously.

“My dad was an engineer. Air force. He specialized in experimental technology.” She gave Bucky a pointed look. “Can you guess something he might have invented?”

Bucky frowned, the pieces moving too slowly in his head, and- “Ah.”

“Yep.” She looked back to Bucky’s arm. “Sam and Ron were his favorites. His pseudo-sons. My cool big brothers who could fly, and my mom hated, because she hated everyone. Especially people my dad liked. Then Ron got blown up, and my dad took it… hard. Started drinking. Sam tried to help, but it wasn’t something that started with Ron. Just got worse, until it hit a breaking point. Then it was just my mom, and I’d only see Sam whenever it was too much, and he could help me slip away. After Hydra collapsed, I took my siblings on the run to avoid the government separating us, and he lost me for a while. Then Steve Rogers found my new contact in a notebook of some Hydra big-name, and he tracked me down. Took care of us until I turned eighteen, and I became by sibling’s legal guardian. And even then, he was still family.” 

Bucky nodded slowly, moving things around in his log. Sam was basically Her brother. Her parents were dead, and She’d taken care of her siblings. 

Sam had done for Her what Bucky had tried to do for Steve. 

She’d said Sam hadn’t known what She’d done, but Bucky was willing to bet Her name wasn’t in that notebook for reasons that didn’t make him sick. 

A few leads. Hydra big-names had hurt Her, and Her mom had been involved. But Bucky doubted the would’ve seen Her as more than just a body, or told Her anything of substance. And Her Mom had been dead since Hydra fell—Bucky needed to sit down and do some math later—so there would be no reason to strike Her now. He needed more information.

“What about your extended family?” He asked carefully. “They didn’t take you?”

“Nope. My mom burned a lot a bridges. On both sides.”

“How many siblings do you have?” This wasn’t going to help Bucky figure out the Hydra thing. He wanted to know anyway.

“Two. Charlie and Tommy. Charlie’s finishing up grad school, and Tommy’s in his second year of college. Neither blipped.”

Bucky grunted. “Do they know about your history?”

“No.” She mumbled, frowning at the flowers. “Charlie knows I had a job. They don’t know what. And- All the Hydra guys were before Sam found me again. I was younger. More desperate.” She let out a long breath. “Those are the only ones I wish I could take back. They hated me just as much as they… liked me.”

She was shrinking Her into Herself, and Bucky wanted this to be done. He had almost enough.

God, he wished it was enough.

“What about your childhood?” 

She sighed. “I don’t know. I- I don’t really remember it. There were long periods in the hospital. And these- Images. Snapshots. But they’re all glossy and-“ Her fingers curled on Bucky’s arm, Her voice suddenly a little urgent. “Have you ever seen like, a plastic plant? Or a person who’s done a lot of plastic surgery?”

“Yeah-“

“They’re like that.” She whispered, Her eyes wide on his. “I mean, some of them are. And they’re my memories, I know they happened, but I- I don’t know. It’s mostly just a lot of color and sound.”

Bucky’s jaw twitched, and he stored it in his file. 

But that was enough. 

“Alright.” He looked down at his arm. “Good job. I look like I got attacked by a pre-school.”

She flushed, tracing Her fingers over one of the flowers, and Bucky was going to break his teeth. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.” She mumbled, and Bucky couldn’t stop his grin.

“You can take it however you want, Butterfly.”

“I will.”

“I know.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Her flush deepened, and Bucky’s grin grew as the wildfire ripped through him. He was barely fucking better than a fucking dog. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

She gave him a confused look—pouting and teeth between Her lips—and Bucky was going to go insane. “Bucky, tomorrow’s Sunday-“

“We still doing the aquarium?”

He tried to ask the question carefully. Like it didn’t matter at all. If She didn’t want to go to the aquarium, he was a grown ass man. A war vet. And he was doing it for therapy, so Bucky didn’t need Her there at all. He wanted Her there. He wanted Her there so fucking much. 

He wanted to watch Her move around and talk like at the hospital, but it would just be them. Just Her and Bucky, and everything in his head would be quiet because She’d be there and beautiful, and goddamnit, he wanted to tease Her about the fish thing again and see if She flushed and played with Her hair-

“Yes, please.” She whispered, and Bucky nodded.

Please.

She wanted to be there. He wasn’t making Her. Bucky didn’t want to be in the business of making Her do anything. He’d toss Her around and hold Her down when it was about objective safety, and Her being insane, but even then, he’d find Her line and never cross it.

It wasn’t touching him. Or sitting next to him. Or looking at him.

She kept talking to Bucky all day, too. And She talked to everyone, but Christ, he wanted this to be different. He wanted Her to tell him whatever She wanted. He wanted to keep being safe for Her. 

Bucky hadn’t been safe for someone in so fucking long. And She had too much going on for that to be a light choice. She’d been hiding the Hydra code stuff the whole time—and he’d need to have a firmer conversation with Her about that, once he stopped feeling so dizzy when She smiled at him—and trusted Bucky to tell first. She’d asked him to help Her. No one else. Just Bucky.

And he was Her friend. That was getting bigger by the second. 

Being Her friend meant something. Maybe not what Bucky wanted it to mean—with his hands skimming on Her bare skin whenever he wanted, and his lips brushing her’s just for the hell of it—but something. She wanted to know about it. She wanted him around. To talk to, and joke with, and share things with.

Bucky liked sharing things with Her. He wanted to tell Her more and more about himself, because it wasn’t like with Raynor. He wasn’t trying to justify it, or pretend it didn’t scratch at the back of his skull all the time. He was just saying them because She was easy to tell. 

She tended to get them.

And Bucky was starting to really get Her.

All the colors and cracks and woven patterns that made Her up. 

Art. 

All of Her seemed to be art. And Bucky needed to get better at that stuff. For Her.

He wanted to start doing stuff for Her.

That was new. 

Bigger than a crush. 

He could never have Her—for some many fucking reasons, the images and ideas in Bucky’s head would have to stay fantasies—but he wanted Her.

His name was James Buchanan Barnes. She tended to wipe Her face with her hand when She ate, and Bucky wanted to grab them and clean them, then lecture Her about manners while She smiled at him. It was getting late, when he looked at his watch. And he wanted to stay with Her longer, but he knew he’d see Her tomorrow. 

He liked that She smiled at him all the time now. Bucky hadn’t been drunk in a damn long time, but he was pretty sure the closest he was going to get was Her smiling at him. About nothing but him opening the door for Her, or making a grumbling joke, or giving his thoughts on something. That last one always made Her fucking beam. Bucky wanted to make Her beam all the fucking time. 

He didn’t like that he had to bring Her back to Her apartment. Back to Miles. Back to someone who wasn’t going to look at Her with their full attention, and who didn’t care to try and catch Her as She bounced off the walls. Bucky wanted to have that job. It was one he was good at already, and maybe he’d get to throw Her down onto a bed, She’d giggle at him, and he’d-

Friends.

Control.

Bucky really needed to get himself under control. He wanted to be there for Her, however She needed, but he fucking couldn’t if everything She did made his skin warm and his pants tight.

He wanted Her. 

Almost all the time now, some part of Bucky was dedicated to wanting Her. His hands to doing things for Her like opening doors and catching Her. His eyes to watching Her. His skin to trying to brand itself with Her fleeting touch, and his mind to logging everything about Her he could, to have Her a little more.

Bucky was made of want. 

It was new. Strange.

Better.

Things were better. Really fucking impossibly, things were so much better. 

And he was still angry, but Bucky would be able to use that anger. It wasn’t made of pointless and bitter sorrow about Steve leaving and it’s not fair.

Nothing was fair. 

But Bucky wasn’t going to just roll over and take that. And if anyone deserved to have someone be really, truly angry for them, it was Her. Things were shit for Her too, but she was never fully angry about it. Not where anyone could see. Bucky had seen Her annoyed and hurt and shaking and furious, but never angry. She’d bitch about those dumbass lawyers, but never just fire them, because they had families. When Sam had shoved Bucky on Her at the start She’d been pissed, but She’d forgiven him too. When Bucky had made a face about Miles, She’d just sighed. 

Bucky had seen the Moon, rolling and shifting and swirling with Her moon.  During the Hydra accusations. It had been furious. A little terrifying, like it could rip into him and shred him apart. But even then, She’d pulled it back and forgiven him. Too fast. 

But Bucky could be unforgiving for Her. He could use the anger for Her. 

And he more than planned to. 

“You know I am quite busy, Sargent Barnes-“

“Bucky.” He muttered, glaring at the laptop She’d made him get. Handed to him. Insisted he take, or She’d set on fire right fucking there.

Bucky could’ve called Her bluff. It would’ve been really damn easy, because She really was all bark and no bite.

But She’d gotten him something, and if he didn’t take it, She might’ve been sad. Or offended. Or stopped giving Bucky things. 

So he’d taken it. 

But it was still annoying as hell. Shuri was in a little box, and Bucky was in a smaller box, and it had taken five minutes for Shuri to tell him how muting worked. 

“My apologies, Bucky.” Shuri grinned at him—eyes still dancing with amusement about the muting thing—and he sighed. “If your arm is experiencing issues, I can request that Mr. Wilson have it sent-“

“No.” Bucky sat a little taller, shaking his head. “The arm is great. Amazing. And Sam cannot know about this.”

Shuri raised her brows. “Are we keeping secrets?”

“Yes. No. It’s-“ Bucky ran a hand through his hair, frowning at the air. “I need a favor. And it’s one Sam’s gonna be pissed about.”

“What is a favor?” Shuri gave Bucky a firm look. “Is it a gun or a new addition to the arm? Because then I will do it happily. But there are other things that might not be as easy.”

Bucky braced himself, giving Shuri a grimacing look. “You’re not gonna like it. And let me explain, before you say no.”

“Bucky-“

“I want Zemo.” Bucky pushed right through the look of shock on Shuri’s face. “I know. But this isn’t like last time. I want him on a monitored call or in a secure meeting place. The Dora Milaje will be there. But I’ve got some questions for him, and I need them answered soon. It’s life or death.”

Shuri didn’t say no. She just studied Bucky through the screen for a long moment, before saying, “Whose life or death?”

“My- My friend.”

“You do not have friends, Bucky.”

He scowled. “You’re my friend-“

“I am a princess from another continent. We do not speak frequently. Your only other friend is Mr. Wilson, and you wish to keep this from him.”

“It’s our mutual friend. She’s known Sam a while, and if he finds out about this, he’ll be angry. But it’s really important, Shuri. Wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t.”

“Oh, I do not doubt that.” Shuri shrugged. “I will speak to my brother and Okoye and see what we can do. But,” the grin returned to her face, and Bucky swallowed. 

That couldn’t be good.

“Who is your lady friend?”

“She was Sam’s lady friend first.” Bucky grumbled. “Kinda like his little Steve. And it’s not important-“

“You do not get Zemo, if you don’t tell me.”

Fuck.

He was cornered.

Bucky had to grumble Her name, keeping his face perfectly fucking blank instead of covered in want. “She’s been getting Hydra threats. We think Zemo’s involved, and we have to check.”

Shuri frowned. “Why do I recognize that name-“

“She worked with Stark.”

“No,” Shuri shook her head. “It is not that. There is another reason-“

“She’s been talking about some Wakandan vaccines a lot.” Bucky said carefully. “Could be that.”

“That is it. I’ve been researching her office before I approve the bid.” Shuri’s face morphed back into the mocking grin. “I’ve seen some pictures. She is quite beautiful.”

Bucky sighed. Shuri didn’t know the half of it.

“And her bids are well written. Moving.”

“Yeah, well, she writes them all herself. Do I get Zemo or not?”

“You’ll get Zemo. I will want more information though, before I present it to my brother-“

“I’ll email you.”

“Do you know how to email-“

Bucky grumbled Her name, ignoring how Shuri’s grin grew. “I’ll have her email you. And-“ He paused.

It might not be worth it. 

He might be pushing it.

Shit, he was going to do it anyway.

“Could you toss in the vaccines, too? She’ll be good with them.”

“Alright.” Shuri shrugged, and Bucky sat up a little straighter.

He hadn’t made this for Her. 

It was still really fucking something. Something that She’d wanted. That Bucky had gotten for Her.

Shuri hung up after that, and Bucky was still sitting tall. With pride.

He’d done things for Her. He was going to get answers out of Zemo, somehow—he wasn’t sure yet, but he’d figure it out in the moment—and She’d be safe.

Things were getting better.

For the first time, Bucky could say things were better, and fully fucking mean it.

That was sort of terrifying.

He didn’t want it to stop.

——————

Weekends are Hell, when Miles is home. 

The Show never stops. Smile and sickly-sweet words, touch him like you want to and never speak out of turn. Move and move and freeze when you need to, rest only when it can be afforded because he’s busy.

Navigate the Labyrinth of whatever mood he’s in today, and know that—if you’re lucky—you’ll curl up with the Boy on the bathroom floor when the minotaur goes to sleep. 

If you falter one step, Miles catches it, and it ends in makeup and long shirts.

You’re trapped with him. 

Nobody knows how bad it is, so you’re locked in the cage with the monster you made, and there’s never been a reasonable excuse to escape. Miles wouldn’t stop you from going to work before—the less he actually sees you, the less he has to speak to you and hear your whiny, weird voice—but Happy would.

You don’t blame him. 

He doesn’t know by design. 

Nobody knows by design. You don’t want their pity. It’s the only other thing that you never tell people. And even then, sometimes you’ll pull out the prostitution card to win an argument. Nobody needs to know about this. There’s too much to explain. They’ll try to make you leave him, or they’ll get the cops involved, or Sam will throw him off a roof, and they can’t. It’s a matter of survival, that the weekends stay horrible, and you stay a little too alive on the bathroom floor, and you survive. 

It was supposed to be all about Survival. 

Secrets and the Show and no friends was for survival.

Keeping Bucky at a distance was supposed to be about survival. And this… Going to the aquarium with someone Miles has told you he doesn’t trust. Doesn’t want you near or around.

It will end badly, if Miles finds out your office weekend ban didn’t get lifted.

So you’ll just be careful.

If you’re being this fucking stupid about a crush, you have to be careful. 

It’s just the aquarium. Friends go to aquariums together all the time. And you’re really going because you get in free, and Bucky’s bad at name dropping. 

But he could make Sam go with him. Sam probably gets in free too. 

He asked you.

And it’ll be fine. You’ll be careful. 

You’re perfect and compliant, the whole morning. Miles is working today—he always works on Sunday mornings, something about them being good for business—so you make him breakfast and kiss his cheek and swallow your vomit. He tells you about how he’s made good deals, and how they’re going to affect global trade, and then reminds you that don’t worry your pretty little head about it, honey. You wouldn’t understand if you tried.

You manage not to scream that you do understand. Not how the Dow Jones works—nobody knows how the Dow Jones works—but how supply chain boosts can be good for the economy, because you’re not a fucking idiot. 

But that wouldn’t be careful.

So you smile, and take it. Then whatever he wants from you, you give. You just have to hold on a few hours, until Bucky gets here.

“I thought you were driving your bike?” You’d frowned at him yesterday, when he’d mentioned he’d grab you tomorrow.

“I’m driving whatever you’ll go in with me.” He’d muttered, glowering out at the road. “You can even drive the car, if you want. But we’re stepping up your security. No going out alone.”

You’d swallowed, and nodded. “Do you still get days off?”

“No.”

“James-“

“Would you rather have me, or some random assholes?”

He’d shot you a challenging look, and you’d stuck your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I-“

“I want a real answer, kid.” Bucky had smirked at you. “C’mon. You want me around.”

“Bucky-“

“Say it.” 

He’d been looking at you, and using the commanding voice, and you’re too far gone.

It’s not controlling you. You don’t think he even knows how easily you fold when he does that. How he’ll pierce right into that fluttering thing, it will burst fireworks over your ribs, and by the time the Mist has started to climb you’re gone. You just want him to keep looking at you like it’s something you want to see. Telling you things that you trust him not wield like blade against you later. Bucky wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t grab chunks of you then turn them into weapons to control you.

He doesn’t need to.

“Butterfly-“

“I want you around.” You whisper, and you’re rewarded with another Look. Only the nostril flare, and the stone-like neutral features.

His voice is rough, when he speaks. You want to hear it forever. “Good. Car or bike.”

“Do you want to ride your bike?”

“That’s not-“

“Bucky.” 

He’d shot you a glare—blink, nostrils, tongue-thing—and sighed. “Yes.”

“Okay.” You’d shrugged, turning your hair between your fingers. “Bike.”

He’d grunted, and the conversation had moved on. 

Bucky would pick you up in the bike, and that was it. 

You’ll be free when Bucky gets here. 

That’s a thought that’s dangerous to have. Lines have begun to weave together in your head, and they’re so dangerous.

Bucky’s tied to the idea of freedom. He’ll be here and you won’t have to put on the Show, and that’s freedom. He’s woven with the idea of comfort, as well. You’ll be able to eat more, and better, because you’ll be sharing the food with him. He’ll see you, and that doesn’t hurt anymore. You’ll just keep fluttering and smiling under his attention, and you’ll bite at him, but he’ll just chuckle and take it. Talking to you like you’re a person.

Listening to you and looking at you like there’s not anything ugly and burning in you. 

Grinning at you, and playing the game.

You’re losing. 

And winning. 

Your crush is starting to barrel out of control, slipping through your fingers into an intoxicating mist before you can stop it, and the lines and rules of any game are far too blurred. 

“Catch.” Bucky tosses your sandwich at you in the garage, and you squeak, flying back to avoid it.

The sandwich splatters on the ground, and you and Bucky stares at you. 

He’s grinning. 

It’s handsome and strong and shining in his eyes, and the Mist is building and building and building in your spine without relent. 

“What happened, Butterfly?”

“I- You didn’t warn me!” You glare at him, kneeling down to clean up the mess, and he shrugs.

“I said catch.”

“I wasn’t ready-“

“Obviously not.” You feel him grab the hook of your elbow, and when you look up, he’s right above you. 

Something in your body starts to go molten and loose, as you just stare at each other. Bucky’s doing the fucking tongue thing again, and it’s taking a lot of effort not to slump forward against his legs. But you just want to see what he does. If he tangles a hand in your hair and mutters low praise like in your dreams, if he kneels down so that you’re on the same, even ground. Then maybe he’ll wrap you in the heat you can feel from his body, if he picks you up and carries you to safety-

Safety.

The biggest thread making up Bucky is safety. From Miles—even if just for an afternoon, it’s more than you’ve been offered before—your own too loud thoughts, and Hydra. 

Bucky said he got you. 

And you believed him. In every way, you believed him. He was going to help you with the Hydra thing, and you’d be fine, and Bucky got you. 

You should be more afraid, after the Hydra thing. And you are afraid—although the tension and fear of longer shadows isn’t really anything new—but you’ve adapted. Hydra’s trying to kidnap you, and you don’t know why, but Bucky’s got you. He said you’ll be fine. He’d held you, you hadn’t felt like you’d been locked down. 

The crush is starting to really, fully bloom. 

The Mist feels like it’s spreading over your nerves.

Bucky’s still holding your elbow, and when you close your eyes you can see your dream from last night. Still hear his voice—a mimicry of the rough one, from the car ride yesterday—telling you to take it, babydoll. So fuckin’ pretty, sucking my cock. Don’t know what I did to deserve you.

Probably see you, and not run. Pull you to your feet with a vaguely amused look, while doing the fucking tongue thing and keeping you steady against his body. 

“I’ll clean it up.” He mutters, nodding over his shoulder to his backpack, resting against-

“Is that your bike?”

“Yeah.” He smirks. “You still want to ride it?”

Another image—a dream from a few nights back, where Bucky was on his back and his hands rested on your hips as you bounced on his dick and he groaned your name—flashes through your head, and you swallow. “Yes?”

He snorts, and in some small miracle, he mistook the softness of your voice for apprehension. “It’s not too late to back out, Butterfly-“

“I’m not backing out.” You snap, raising your chin. “It’s just new. And what if you drop me-“

“I won’t drop you.” Bucky rolls his eyes like the thought is insane, and you believe him too quickly. “Go eat your sandwich.”

“But you-“

“I made the mess. And I’m not that hungry anyways.”

You don’t believe him. Your eyes narrow on his, and he just gives you a flat look.

“If you don’t eat it, I’m throwing it in the goddamn trash.”

Fuck. “You suck.”

“I know.” He grins again, and you’re going to fall over. “Go eat, sweetheart. It’s in my backpack.”

You shuffle over to the bike, carefully opening Bucky’s bag as he deals with the fallen sandwich on the ground. There’s one of the metal forks you gave him, and the mug you gave him, and the laptop you gave him, and all the Hydra notes, and the sandwich.

It’s the same as your usual order.

It’s better not to think about that too hard.

“Any updates on the thing?” You ask as Bucky returns to your side, wiping his gloves with a small frown.

“Called with Shuri last night.” He shrugs. “She’ll see what she can do. Until then it’s just us, letting me keep you alive.”

“Letting you keep me alive-“

“Yep.” Bucky leans against his bike, his gaze never leaving yours. “No more keeping shit like that from me, Butterfly.”

You flush, but keep your voice bored. “I have no clue what you’re talking about-“

“Yeah, you do.” Bucky leans down, and suddenly he’s only a few breaths away. “We’re a team. It’s dangerous to keep information from me.”

You blink at him. “We’re a team?”

“Yep.”

Bucky says it like it’s simple. Obvious. You’re not the job. He’s not the problem or danger that’s going to end in a bigger mess for him to clean up. He’s your friend, and he’s helping, and you’re a team. Together. 

He’ll keep you safe. If you let him.

You really want to let him. 

He mutters your name—you’ve been staring too long—and you clear your throat.

“Are you keeping anything from me?”

Bucky’s lips twitch. “Not that I’m aware of. You keeping anything from me?”

Yes.

So many things.

But if you tell him about Miles, you’ll have to tell him about the bond. And if you tell him about the bond-

You’re not sure what will happen, if you tell Bucky about the bond. He might try to free you of it, like Tony would’ve. He might try to just free you of Miles, like Sam would. 

He wouldn’t try to take it, like Miles did. That’s one thing you’re positive about. He’ll be disgusted by the very idea of it. 

And things are so good right now. It’s not a secret that will do any harm. You’re doing Bucky a favor, by not giving him more reasons to worry about you.

So you just shake your head, and give him a wide, free kind of smile.

One blink, clenched jaw. That’s the Look that means he’s seeing through you. That he knows your smile is a fucking lie.

But he doesn’t call you on it. And his brows quickly furrow, followed by three more blinks before he sighs, shaking his head at nothing at all. 

“You ready?”

“Ready-“

Bucky pats the seat of his bike, and you swallow. 

“Oh.”

“We can take your car-“

“No.” You stand a little taller. It’s just a bike. Bucky rides it all the time, and if you’re a team, you need to be slightly matched with him. Not just the strange, annoying, feral girl he’s been saddled with to protect and work with. Useful. 

Even if your only use is letting him ride his bike, getting him into the aquarium for free, and cracking code during bought of insomnia, you will be useful.

“I can do this.” Your words are firm, and Bucky just grins at you.

“Sure-“

“Shut up.”

He chuckles. “Yes, ma’am.”

There’s the flush, and the Mist, and Bucky’s standing so close. His arm is brushing yours, and leaving small fevers you don’t want to be cured from, all over your skin. 

“I’m gonna wear the backpack,” Bucky says—his words gentle and slow and fuzzy in your gut—and you glance up to find him looking right into you. “And you’ll sit in front of me.”

“Is that safer than behind you?”

“No. They’re pretty much the same.”

“So-“

“You’ll freak out less, in the front.”

You swallow, and he’s probably right. If you’re in the back, you’ll spend the whole time worrying about letting go of Bucky, and-

Letting go.

If you’re in the front, you’re not going to be holding onto Bucky. He’s going to be holding onto you. He’ll be all around you. Pressed against you.

This was a horrible idea.

It’s too late to back out.

“Alright.” You give a firm nod, and Bucky’s still just grinning at you. “Let’s do this.”

He looks far too amused. The whole fucking time, Bucky looks to be enjoying your torment, and God, it’s making you dizzy. It’s not like when Miles laughs at you. Where it’s cold and mocking. 

This feels soft.

Gentle.

Safe. 

Bucky helps you onto the bike with his flesh hand, big and calloused around yours, and he’s grinning at your scowl and pout the whole time, but it’s not hateful. You don’t feel like a problem. The light in his eyes is all focused on you, and it never moves away.

Bucky never moves away. You stumble a little, and he catches you with an even wider grin.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He drawls, and when you tip your head back to glower at him, your knees feel a little weak.

He looks like a fucking god from every goddamn angle.

It’s not fair.

“I’m fine.” You grumble, and he chuckles, the sound rolling through you and causing the Mist to spread.

“You seem it.”

“I hate you.” 

“Uh huh.”

His grin doesn’t falter for a second. He knows you’re full of shit. If anything, his whole face is lit up with something easy, and it’s intoxicating.

You’re fucked.

Bucky places you on the bike. Picks you up like you’re a sack of feathers and maneuvers you onto the seat, and he really needs to stop doing that. It makes the Mist glow, and it makes your face go dumb and slack because it shouldn’t feel so good. But his touch is always careful, and there’s never any tension in your body made of wrong—not what you want, not what you need, and there’s no choice so it’s wrong—because most of Bucky is really fucking right.

And he knows you. He’s climbing on the bike behind you because he knows you. He didn’t get pissed or grumpy about you saying you hate him, because he knows you. He’s always so ready to catch you because he knows you.

It’s a relief he can’t see your face, for the entirety of the ride. Can’t see how your eyes are already squeezed shut, before you even get out of the garage-

“Put your face in my arm.” He grunts in your ear, and you stare up at him.

“What?”

“Your face,” he mutters, and you can feel his attention again, even from behind his sunglasses. “There’s gonna be a lot of wind, Butterfly. Don’t want you to get blown away.”

You roll your eyes. “Smooth words, James-“

“Yeah, yeah.” His grin returns in a second. You’re going to explode. “Just listen to me, for once in your damn life.”

If the engine wasn’t revving, and your heart wasn’t loud in your ears, you would’ve argued that you do listen to him. All the time. More than anyone else, at least. 

But instead you just obey. He’s barely using the voice, and you can’t even see that glint in his eyes, but you turn your face and bury it in his arm before you can think too hard about it, and then you’re gone.

Maybe it was the smell of him—something rainy that might be cologne, and a little bit of mint—acting as anesthetic over your senses, making you to stupid and reckless things. Maybe it was how he’s the perfect kind of balanced warm, where he’s not suffocating and sticky, but comfortable, the metal arm acting as a kind of summer breeze. There’s a strong chance it’s how strong he is around you. How his muscles keep flexing around you as he drives, and you don’t feel trapped by it. 

He’s like a shield. Not a cage. You don’t want him to move away.

That might be it. 

You just don’t ever want Bucky to move away. The wind is rushing past you, and everything is sharp movements and a little unsteady, but you just keep your face tucked into Bucky’s arm. Nothing will happen, as long as you’re safely burrowed into him.

Bucky’s got you, so nothing will happen.

This isn’t helping stomp down the crush. It’s only making the Mist expand and move into your nerves. And he knows you, so when he pulls to a stop, he doesn’t move until you do.

“That was horrible.” 

Your words are muffled in his arm, and Bucky chuckles. “You know we’re gonna have to do it again, sweetheart. Unless you’re plannin’ on living here.”

You groan, shaking your head against him. “Can you knock me out next time?”

“No.”

“That’s not very team oriented of you-“

“I think it’s perfectly team oriented to not want you passed out.” Bucky still isn’t trying to move you away. If anything, his hand has found your lower back, holding you steady in the seat.

It’s just making you dizzier. 

Bucky doesn’t need to know that. 

“Maybe I will live here.” You mumble, pulling back with a challenging glare. “You’ll see. I’ll be one with the ocean. Maybe I’m secretly a mermaid, you don’t know.”

Bucky’s grin might knock you out on its own. His sunglasses are gone so you can see him looking at you, and his smile lights up his whole face. It makes you sit a little taller to hold his gaze, and gives you a strange, hot feeling over your chest about how he’s looking at you like that. No one else. You didn’t even know his face could have this kind of clear, simple ease and joy. 

It makes him look younger. Almost boyish. The smirk dripping with teasing charm and his gaze so focused you might as well be the only person in the world. 

You’re not. You’re maybe the person least worthy of being looked at like that.

But that doesn’t stop Bucky. And it makes you feel fucking invincible. 

“I don’t think you’re a mermaid, Butterfly.” Bucky drawls. “Mermaids aren’t real.”

You snort. “But aliens are?”

“Yep. There’s more science behind aliens. Far more likely than fish-people.”

He’s right. But he doesn’t get to win. “Okay, nerd.”

That just gets a laugh. A loud, full laugh that would make you fall over, if Bucky wasn’t holding you so tight. “You feel good about that one, sweetheart?”

“Yep.” You glance around the parking lot. It’s mostly full, and Bucky’s wearing his gloves and a jacket, but- “Are we just… going inside?”

“How else is it supposed to work?”

“I dunno.” You mumble, fidgeting with the cuff of your shirt. “I just don’t want you to worry about be recognized.”

Bucky shrugs. “I’ve got a hat. It’ll be fine.”

“A hat.” You repeat, giving him a flat look. “James, a hat isn’t effective-“

“I managed to stay on the run from Steve and the government for damn near two years with a hat. Don’t worry about me.”

“But-“

“Listen,” Bucky says your name firmly, and it’s not good how quickly your body relaxes. “People aren’t here to look for me. They’re here to see the fish. Trust me.”

You let out a long breath, and give him a small nod. “Okay.”

“Good g-“ Bucky cuts himself off with a cough, his eyes widening for half a second. So fast you almost don’t catch it at all. “I- Uh- How does this work.”

“What-“

“I dunno what we’re doin’.” Bucky glances past you, to the aquarium entrance. “Never done something like this. A public thing. Where I wasn’t-“

“Punching butts?”

He snorts, and looks back down to you with a small grin. “Sure, Butterfly.”

You whack his arm thoughtlessly, and try to form a slow, concrete plan to ease Bucky into this. It’ll be loud. And crowded. He’s here for his therapy and biology class, so you’ll just find a few exhibits he likes and roll with them. Avoid the places kids tend to flock, just because there will be less people, and that’ll probably be better for him. You want to see the otters, but this isn’t about you. If Bucky wants to just stare at the sharks, you can be down with that. Sharks are cool. Although you don’t really know Bucky’s taste in animals, and he might not either if he’s never been to an aquarium, so you might be taking a lot of gambles-

“Stop thinking.”

You blink up at Bucky. “I wasn’t-“

“Yeah, you were.” His hand is still on your back. You’re losing your mind. “I just need you leading the way, kid. We’re walking around, not invading a Hydra base.”

“Oh- Okay.” You swallow, shifting carefully against his body. 

His grip tightens, and all you get is the nostril flare.

Fuck.

“What’re you-“

“We need to walk, Buck.”

He coughs, his grip loosening. “Right. You need-“

“I’ve got it.”

And you do. You can climb off the bike all by yourself.

But Bucky keeps his hand on you anyway. And it’s grounding. Your brain stops circling around all the ways to make this easier for him, to make it as efficient and enjoyable as possible do maybe—just maybe—you’ll get lucky, and Bucky will want to do it again. It can only hone in on Bucky. 

Touching you. Walking with you. Talking to you.

And listening. He wants to talk to you and listen, because he’d tell you to shut up if he didn’t. You don’t doubt that for a second. 

But he wants to. 

So here you are.

“What ocean animals have you seen?”

“Fish.”

You give him an amused look. “That it?”

“Uh,” Bucky frowns at the air. “One shark. When I was the Soldier. Some scientist was keeping it as a pet.”

“As a- Were you working with a fucking Bond villain?”

“I was killing him, not working with him.” Bucky shrugs, scanning over the lot as you walk. Watching. Always watching. 

His hand is still on your back, and he’s matching your pace exactly. It’s secure. You feel like a nuke could drop on you and you’d be fine.

“And I don’t know what a Bond villain is.” 

“James Bond is a super-spy. 007.”

“Oh. I’ve never worked with him-“

“That’s probably because he’s fictional, Buck.” Before Bucky can glower at you and grumble about how there’s no fucking way for him to know that, you make a mock gasp. “Wait. Are you James Bond?”

“What.”

“You’re a super-spy. And your name is James. Maybe they based the character on you.”

“I don’t think that’s what happened.”

You smile at him. “But maybe it did.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “Alright. Whatever you say.”

Whatever you say.

And he’s still touching you. 

For the whole day, there’s barely a second where Bucky’s not touching you.

It never goes past a hand on your back or your arm, but it doesn’t go away either. He whispers in your ear and grins at you like it’s nothing, and the crush is moving from one little blooming thing along your spine to a fucking jungle. Life and Mist and warmth all over your bones and nerves, lining the walls of your veins and making all your breaths so easy. The flutter is fucking wings, beating and crashing against your ribs whenever Bucky smiles at you, and the Mist is a haze that’s starting to shine all over your body.

If Bucky can seek it, brilliant and clean and maybe seeping through your skin, he doesn’t say anything.

But he doesn’t stop touching you either.

“What do you think is bigger than you, Sargent Barnes?”

Bucky’s nostrils flare—you really need to figure out what that means—and his grip tightens on your arm. “I don’t know.”

“Helpful.”

He rolls his eyes, leaning over you to frown at your phone. “They got otters here?”

“Apparently. Says so on the map, doesn’t it.” You grin up at him, and he scoffs, his lips twitching slightly.

“Smart mouth, Butterfly.”

“Shut up.” You raise your chin, holding his gaze. “Do you want see the otters, James?”

Bucky lets out a long sigh. “Yes. Never seen one before.”

Otters aren’t bigger than Bucky.

Most things aren’t bigger than Bucky. 

But if he wants to see an otter, you’ll punch and kick your way through the crowd until he does.

“They’re…” Bucky frowns, hanging slightly over your shoulder. “Fluffy.”

“Yep.” You scan over the little plaque, trying not to feel too dizzy from how Bucky is right fucking behind you. “What do we need for your biology class?”

“I, uh-“ Bucky coughs. “Nothin’. Was just another good reason to go Marine biology class. Thought I could test myself or somethin’.”

Just another reason to go.

He would’ve gone without you. You have to remember that he would’ve gone without you. 

“Alright.” You look back to the plaque. “How do otters get their food?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Your fancy class, Buck. I’m testing you.”

He scowls, his voice dry. “We haven’t covered otter food.”

“Shame.” You hum. “They dive for it. Like penguins-“ You cut yourself off, your eyes widening. “Can we go see penguins?”

Nostril flare. Tight nod. “It’s a group trip, Butterfly. I don’t care where we go.”

“I care.” You snap. “We’re here so you can remember how small you are, Bucky.”

“Sure.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, ma'am." A pause. “We’ll do the penguins. Never seen those either.”

“Awesome. And look,” You grin at Bucky over your shoulder. “Otters are diurnal.”

Bucky snorts. “You sure? Cause they don’t really seem to be up right now.”

“Have you never taken a nap?”

“No.” 

“Oh.” You blink at him. “That’s why you’re so grumpy all the time.”

He rolls his eyes, starting to guide you away from the exhibit. “I am not grumpy. I take things seriously.”

“Of course you do.” You can’t lean too close into his touch, no matter how fucking easy it would be. “All play and no work makes James a dull boy.”

“That’s not the quote.”

“Yeah, well-“ You pause, frowning up at him. “How did you know that? The Shining came out in the 80s.”

Bucky’s jaw twitches. “Sam made me watch it.”

You scan over him carefully. Tense. Glaring at the air ahead of him and pressing out his chest like he’s having an invisible showdown with the air. “You didn’t like it, did you.”

He shakes his head, and you grin at him.

“I told you that you needed happy endings.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “You did. Penguins?”

You keep smiling at him, because it’s so simple. You’re smiling to smile, and because it’s at Bucky, and he doesn’t really have anyone who smiles at him. 

Same as you don’t have anyone to smile at.

And when he glances back, there’s a flash over his features when he sees you, and he returns the smile. It’s a little cautious and tight, but it’s still starting in his eyes. 

He’s gotten better at that. At offering smiles, when they’re not being pulled out of him.

And from here—at least for the rest of the day—it seems to be only up.

“Why are they so round.” Bucky grumbles, frowning at a penguin, and you shrug.

“You tell me, Sargent Science.”

He shoots you a dry look. “You think I’m a lot better that shit than I am, Butterfly.”

“Sorry I believe in you.” You cross your arms, holding his gaze. “And you’re better at it than I am. You won us the whole trivia round.”

“I think you woulda been fine without me.”

“I thought peppers made dynamite, Bucky.”

“Maybe they do.” He gives you a small smirk. “Anythin’ can blow up if you try hard enough, sweetheart.”

You can’t stop smiling at him. I might be making you look like an idiot. “You know, I believe that.”

“Thanks. Means a lot.”

You whack him again, and his grin only grows. 

“You gonna tell me why penguins are round?” Bucky drawls your name, and you sigh.

“It’s so they can roll. On the ice. It’s faster than walking.”

“Alright.” Bucky hums, raising his brows. “And the rest reason?”

You flush, turning your hair between your fingers. “For warmth. The roundness is fat, and it keeps them alive.”

He nods slowly, does the tongue thing, and the Mist is warm all over your skin.

“What else do you want to see?” You ask—your voice far too breathy—and Bucky shrugs. 

“What’s good?”

Most of it. 

Bucky’s walking with you the whole way, and he’s trusting you to tell him things—where to go, what to look at, what to do—so most of it is good. 

There are big seals that seem to enjoy staring at Bucky—you understand that—and dead-eyed, sharks that enjoy starting at you.

“Why are they looking at me?” You whisper, the fifth shark in a row gliding past with its attention entirely following your movements, and Bucky shrugs. 

“I don’t think-“

“Don’t call me paranoid.” You snap, and Bucky gives you an amused look. 

“Wasn’t planning on it. They’re definitely watching you. I was gonna say that there’s probably no reason to it.” He shrugs. “Maybe you’re the best thing to look at they’ve seen in a while.”

You shake your head, falling a pace back so Bucky’s blocking you from view. “No. They’re gonna try to eat me.”

“That works too.”

Bucky grins at your glare, but picks up his pace, and keeps you hidden from the view of the sharks until you’re out of the tunnel. 

You linger on the turtles, and when you ask Bucky if he’d like a vibranium shell too, he just rolls his eye. The jellyfish are there, floating mindless through the water and a little enchanting, and the giant fucking crab is going to give you nightmares, but you’ll get over it.

You’re pulled to safety by Bucky anyway. 

And it hits you, when you’re watching the sea lion show from a safe distance, neither of you really all that interested in getting closer.

“You think they like doing that shit?” Bucky asks, nodding to the show. “Performing for treats?”

“I didn’t.” You mumble, and before you can hear yourself and take it back, Bucky shrugs. 

“Never got treats. Didn’t like it either, though.”

You hum, watching the animal build up to a flip. “Sea lions,” Your words are soft. Mostly for yourself. “Natures snakes.”

Bucky frowns at you. “What?”

“It’s reference. Don’t worry about it.”

“What movie?”

You shake your head. “You won’t like it-“

“You like it. Enough to quote it.” He raises his brows. “C’mon. Tell me.”

He’s looking at you. Into you. 

And the Mist is shining.

“Penguins of Madagascar.” You mumble, and Bucky nods.

“Alright. I’ll watch it.”

“It’s not a good movie-“

“I don’t care.”

That’s it. There’s a firmness to Bucky’s tone that tells you he’s not arguing with you about this, and it’s really not worth arguing about.

You want to know why, though. Why he’d be so resolved about something so dumb, and not waver on it, and if it’s you or he’s like this with Sam-

“Think it’s time to prove fish are real, Butterfly?”

You blink up at Bucky, and there’s the fucking grin again. And the tongue thing.

Jesus Christ.

“Fish aren’t real.” You pull out your phone, frowning at the map on your phone. “And it looks like we’re supposed to go, uh- That way, then that way, then there.”

You point as you speak, and Bucky leans over you to frown at your screen. “Two rights and a left.”

You’re not really sure you’re breathing. “That’s- Uh- I’m not-“

“Turn in this way,” he shakes his normal arm. “Twice. Then to the metal one once. Got it?”

You stare up at him, and it crashes through you like a wave.  

You’ve never done things like this with anyone. 

Talked this easy. Had someone know you like that, and be patient with it, and never balk at all the You that can’t be strangled or choked or smothered. You’re smiling because it doesn’t really feel like there’s another choice. You’re following Bucky because you want to, and having fun, and it’s not for money or foreplay or to keep the Show going for the sake of it. 

Miles doesn’t let you drive, because of the left-right thing. 

Bucky’s just flexing his arm whenever you forget, and letting you lead the way. 

You need to stop comparing them. It’s not helping. It just makes the fantasies of Bucky sweeping you away stronger, and your own heart turn bitter because that won’t happen. Can’t happen. It’s the kind of thought that would get you shredded apart, if voiced aloud, because you’re not supposed to be saved. You’re supposed to save yourself.

You don’t know how to save yourself. You don’t care enough about yourself to save yourself, because you—the real, angry, furious you that has sharp teeth and spits poison—don’t deserve to be saved.

That doesn’t stop the want though. The selfish, vile want for anything else but what you’re going to return to.

The hunger to stop being alone. 

And there’s a massive tunnel. Full of countless sea creatures, floating and drifting around you without a care in the world. All in a seemingly endless dark.

None of them seem to mind it at all. 

“Do you feel small?” Your voice is soft, and Bucky lets out a long, slow breath.

“No. Think I feel bigger, actually.”

You nod, and that’s it. 

You understand him. He seems to understand you.

And you might not be alone anymore.

You have Bucky. 

And if you don’t keep that in check, it will get you both really fucking hurt. 

“Huh.” Bucky frowns around the parking lot as he helps you onto the bike. “We’re close to Coney Island.”

“We’re in Coney Island, Buck. How- You drove us here-“

“I just studied the directions from your apartment. I’m not a fucking map.” Bucky’s features pull into a scowl, and you let out a soft laugh.

It earns you another nostril flare. And Bucky staring at you like you’re a specimen again, but with something softer in his eyes. It’s the same look from when he smiles.

And his voice is low, when he breaks the odd silence. “Used to go to the island all the time. Would like to go back. See how it’s changed.”

“Would you,” you swallow, trying to force the words out before you think too hard, and swallow them forever. “Like company?”

“Yeah. I think I would.”

“Alright.” You give him a nervous smile, he returns it so fast, and you want to tell him again.

The whole ride back to your apartment, and when he’s helping you off the bike, you want to tell Bucky. You want to tell him when your mumble strange and pointless goodbyes—you’ll see him tomorrow, but in feels like your lungs will collapse when the elevator doors close and he’s not at your side—and when you open your door. 

You want to tell him when you get the text, and everything flips and settles so fast.

Miles

heading back to korea

big deal

back when its done

behave

There’s not prior warning, but he’s done that before. Vanished without warning. 

And you really don’t mind, because it means he’s gone.

Miles is gone. Not forever—never forever—but for a while, Miles is gone. 

You want to call Bucky right there. Explain that you’re trapped in a show like the Sea Lion, and you’d like to keep smiling at him but it’s dangerous, and you’re starving for freedom and safety all at once. 

And right now, freedom and safety looks a lot like being known and not whipped for it.

And Bucky really looks like being known. 

But Miles will return. 

You’ll grow sick again, and Miles will need to come back if only to cure you, and he’ll take whatever price he pleases as penance. 

Until then is time you’re safe. Until then you’re grabbing out Bucky’s sweater from the back of the closet, and you curl up with the Boy on the bed. Turning through more and more Hydra code until the world starts to blur, and your head feels a little heavy, and-

“Do you feel small?”

Bucky groans, dropping his brow onto your shoulder. “You gotta stop askin’ me that while you’re on my lap, Butterfly.”

You giggle, leaning back into him. “Got something to prove, Sargent?”

“You know I don’t, babydoll-“

“No fucking on the ferris wheel.” You swat his hand on your thigh, but don’t really try to pry it away. It’s making you feel more secure than any seatbelts or safety bars could. “Sam could see.”

“He’s on the ground-“

“For now.”

“Better not be for now.” Bucky grumbles, kissing over your neck. “Or I’ll toss him into the goddamn harbor for-“

“No murder, James. You promised.”

“I promised I’d stop you from murder. Never said anything about myself.”

You sigh, twisting to drop your face into the dip of his neck. “But it’ll be such a bummer when you get thrown in jail.”

“I’d be fine. My girl would visit me.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.”

You sigh—he’s right, and you have no argument against it—and Bucky tugs on your hair until you lean back.

“And just for the record,” Bucky mumbles, just a breath from your lips. “I could never feel small with you, Butterfly. ’S why I keep you right here.”

The Mist is flowing, when you wake up. 

It’s not just a dizzying, soft feeling anymore. It’s something buzzing and turning and shifting in your fucking body, something building up your spine that trying to break out of your fucking chest, and you can’t breathe.

This sweater smells like a stale version Bucky, but the sheets still smell like Miles. And it’s becoming like a toxic, as the Mist presses over your bones and itches under your chest.

Miles has only been gone a night. But there’s a burning, sickening pain in your whole fucking body that feels like Death.

It’s another night that’s long and lonely. You’re too human, and it hurts, but the power trapped in your body is festering, and it’s fucking eating you alive. Sticky and crushing on all your organs, and the Mist just keeping fucking turning in your body. At some point you shuffle out of bed in a haze, crawling to the bathroom just to ground yourself on the cool tile. It’s just you, the Boy at your side, and a sliver of moonlight through the window, keeping you company until the dawn breaks.

But the dawn does break. The Mist settles after hours of bile on your tongue and scratching at your arms, and the dawn breaks. 

It always breaks. 

And you always adapt.

There’s still a feeling as if flowers are growing, all over your bones and under a few layers of skin.

Dawn breaks, and it brings a beating of wings deep in your chest.

You’ll see Bucky again in a few hours. 

And you won’t be alone.

End Note: Feelings are their number one op fr.

Thank you so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[flossylove]

Ahhh okay back again! I realise I literally have not been keeping up to date with my spam messages, but who cares, only I'm reading these to myself lolol.

So. THE CLIPS TONIGHT!!

OMG where do I even start? So I was working during the day, so thankfully time flew by for me - I actually couldn't imagine having to wait around all day, I would've gone crazy! I was so looking forward to tonight, because I'll be honest - this remake is definitely my favourite! Maybe it's because it's my first one I'm ever watching in real time, but I genuinely feel it's more than that. They've made so many positive changes (like, in my opinion making Roko less toxic than William first was), and the cast is just so incredible in bringing the characters to life!

Nora and Roko are so easily my favourite Noorhelm remake by far! Their chemistry just feels so real and authentic (and yes I understand that authenticity and reality is literally the core of SKAM, but some remakes just weren't able to achieve that, in my opinion, but these guys have!) Maybe, also, I just find them to be one of the most beautiful Noorhelm remakes too - sue a girl!!

Okay, back to the actual clips! Firstly, I'll be completely honest, when we got the 22:05 clip with Maša, and she was talking about someone not calling for 3 days.....I genuinely thought it was about a girlfriend! Turns out, nope! Just her mum! But still, I believe in queer Maša being canon. It just works, u know? Also, Nora being such a sweetheart in that clip? Ugh love love love her. My heart literally hurt to see Maša crying, like, please no, I already love her so much. Already I feel she's spoken more words than Linn ever did!

Now onto the 13 MINUTE CLIP!! OMGGGG! Like, I already knew/was hoping it'd be a long clip like in the OG. But, once again, SRAM just outdid itself! I really do love how many one shot scenes there are. Like, I don't think I've seen anyone else talk about that? IDK, maybe some people have and I just haven't been seeing it at all hahahaha. But I noticed it so much in Season 1, and I'm really glad they're keeping it within the filming style! It really adds character to SRAM being it's own thing as well. I feel there's too much to even talk about with that clip but ahhh - Eva and Nix? Hello?? Love them! Nix picking Nora up? And that comment about expecting her way earlier (just goes to show that SRAM is making an effort to actually build Nix and Roko's friendship. Like, in the OG, I swear sometimes William just wouldn't tell Chris anything, like, IDK, to me that never made sense! But in SRAM, we know Roko actually talks to Nix about Nora - which, ugh, I love, such a loverboy!).

I feel like they kinda brushed over Vanessa this clip? Like, she was there in the photos, with both Eva and Tina, and I think Nix too? So like, did she leave with Tina? I guess it makes sense, cos they live in the same neighbourhood, but the fact none of the girls even mentioned her was just....iffy Idk. Nothing too deep, just something I noticed.

Ahh, one thing I just remembered! Right at the start, when Eva introduces that guy to Nora, and says about it being funny if he was called Adam instead. I loved that little throwback to the OG. I don't know if anyone else figured that, but I immediately was like OMG! In OG SKAM, when Eva has the date (the one that happened last Friday, or at least was supposed to? before it fell through? The one Nora lied about being busy for!) it's with a guy called Adam, and Vilde makes the funny joke about them being Adam and Eva. At least, I think that's correct and I'm not going crazy...

Either way, onto the important stuff - Roko and Nora!! I've said it before, and I'll keep saying it. Their banter, their chemistry, the way they bounce off each other so naturally and get the same jokes, just really makes them so enjoyable! Like, yes OG will always have a place in my heart, but, like, sometimes, it felt as though William had no personality. No laughs, No jokes. No smiles. And I get it! The whole 'broody, but only smiley for the right girl' vibe he had going did work! But, like, we're 10 years into the SKAM remakes now, and I'm just really glad they made this change and gave Roko a solid character build-up. I hope I'm making sense hahahaha

I didn't even notice, cos I was too entranced by Nora's singing, but he actually joined in at one part? Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but he does do a little something, before he then starts playing on the synth? keyboard? idk. And he sounded good! I really hope there's a chance for us to see more of that in the future. Some people reckon that instead of it being an essay/article that William helped with, it'll be a song, or a musical project - and I'd really love to see that be true! Also, just a side bar, in the OG, I feel like, once again, with us getting minimal characterisation of William, the guitar was a little random. Like, it was just never mentioned again? I'm pretty sure? It's been a while since I did a Season 2 rewatch, but I just remember always thinking how that felt like it came out of nowhere, and then was never mentioned again? Hahaha. Whereas, like, Roko being into music, being a DJ, has been a key point in this storyline so far.

So, we've mostly covered the clip but still, I just wanna touch on how easily Roko was able to pick up Nora's slight discomfort about singing in front of him (for real, rather than just messing about) and he so quickly just backed away so she was comfortable. Like, that man is for one woman, and one woman only, and her name's Nora. Like, he is so down bad for her!! Which, ugh, as a single girl who's never dated, it's so refreshing, in the big year 2025, to see a representation of a guy not being afraid to have a crush? And yes, I know, like, he's still a teen boy, he still has flaws, and unfortunately his character is fictional, but still, I am loving getting to see him smile at her softly, and take her beauty in and just quietly appreciate her.

Can u tell I love them so much??

Okay, now finally onto the last clip of the episode!! SRAM finally broke their Saturday no clip rule! I don't even think it was/is a rule, they just never seemed to post on Saturdays. Like, at all. Although, saying this....maybe they did in Season 1? And I'm just being silly? IDK, it's too late for me right now and I should be sleeping but I needed to get these thoughts out!

Anyways, we got the clip!! I was so scared we weren't going to get anything following the end of the 13 minute clip, but I kept adding the clips together and was like... 'we should still have 3 minutes left of the episode???' so I wasn't giving up all faith on the sleepover clip!! And I'm glad I didn't!! Once again, I loved - but are we surrpised?? No, not really hahahah

I'm just really loving the way SRAM is putting this storyline together. Like, yes, do I wish I saw what happened in those two-ish hours between the clips? Hell yes. But, I also love how it wasn't all shoved together. So, I am simply living in my own delusion and saying that they spent all that time playing around with the synth and just messing with each other!

Sitting here, rewatching the clip for the 7th time already (note, it's only been 45 mins as I'm typing, since it got uploaded), I just. No words. Love it. I really liked how it started with a reasonable scenario, of Roko sleeping on the couch, but then Oh No, What A Shame, It Smells Of Beer, Guess He Better Sleep In His Bed Again!! And Nora's reaction? Girl, I see you.

The little barrier, iconic as ever!! Their banter about Vito too? The reach-over and breaking of the barrier, was such a small thing in this remake, but once again, I feel it really worked with the scene and Nora and Roko's characters. The physical contact will always get me! I am a physical contact girly, so you can imagine my reaction when in the clip before Roko touched Nora's waist!!

When Nora says she doesn't know how to turn off the light, the way the camera angle was looking, I genuinely thought we were gonna have Roko lean over to turn it off for her. Which, I get is unrealistic hahaha, but I would've loved it. To maybe have seen Nora panic a little as he got closer, get a little flustered... idk - I just can't wait to see Nora when she finally lets him in and fully embraces her crush hahaha

And I really liked how they did it so Roko lies in this version! Now hear me out! I don't condone lying haha, but this was such a little funny lie, about Vito being out with some chick. Like, Nora knowing he was fully lying and making it up, but instead of leaving and getting angry she just stays and jokes with him too. Like, Your Honour, they are in love. They both want to spend time together!

Roko's little smile as he says "You do like me a little." and looks over at her. Beautiful. Absolute Cinema. And the call back to 'Robi' at the end. I really hope they keep including this as a little inside joke between the two. I mean, Roko seems more than happy to respond to it!

The. Way. Roko. Moved. The. Pillows. And. Moved. Back. So. He. Was. Closer. To. Nora. Need I say anymore??? No, I didn't think so. It was so sweet to watch!!

Now finally, and I mean finally, promise I'll be done soon! I really recognised the piano track playing in the background as the camera started to spin around them. It's absolutely a famous piece, I just can't think of what one right now (it's so late, I need to be up in 5 hours this isn't good for me hahaha). But I really love it! And the camera moving - ugh! LOVED IT!

I don't know if anyone will think I'm crazy, but I kinda hope we get a clip tomorrow? Like, with them waking up. I know we won't, because we've gotten the whole episode in these clips. But, I could just imagine the little transition between clips. Like how they did in Season 1, with them panning over the bed with Eva and Jakov. From night to then the morning. I really loved that a lot last season! Made the transitions a bit more fun!

Like I said, it won't happen, but maybe in the future? In a possible future clip? IDK, this is me now just projecting hahaha

Okay, I think I'm all SRAMmed out for the night, so I'm gonna finish this here. I doubt anyone has even made it to the end, but if you did then wow, thank u for dealing with my ramblings! At the end of the day, I'm just a girl with too many thoughts in my head and no one to talk to about SRAM in real life hahaha

~ floss <3

[saveahorserideaneddie]

fair warning: this is going to be a kinda negative/pessimistic post about the state if buddie in my mind, and is no way meant to cause any kind of anger in anyone who disagrees with me- you have every right to your opinion just like i have every right to mine- but i wanted to get my thoughts on the episode out into my echo chamber, so if you don’t want to read this please scroll now (those who would like to read please read under the cut, but do not come into my inbox or replies trying to start anything if you disagree bc you have been warned)🙏💕

the thing is i can’t even be mad at the episode because it was so reminiscent of the episodes that make me love this show as a show

but the buddie of it all was so disappointing…. like it felt like i was just watching any old episode with a buddie moment that will no doubt spark 50,000 edits and fanfics, but it wasn’t giving “these two are being set up for something more.”

it was literally just the same old buddie- like we got more close-to-going-canon energy in 8a than we did here, it was quite literally just the same dynamic they’ve had for seasons at this point, and while yeah they already act like a married couple, that’s what the GA is used to so if they were actually setting it up, wouldn’t they try to at least make a slight pivot into leaning more into the energy they have?

i’m tired so idk if i’m really articulating my thoughts as clearly as i’d like, but i hope y’all get what i’m trying to say here- like it definitely doesn’t feel like buck and eddie are being set up to like hate each other forever or that they are going to turn into sworn enemies or anything like that, but this ep very much was the same kind of “this is what the writers think best friends act like” energy that we’ve had since s2

i just wish we could have gotten something: a look, a moment, a glimpse of something that could be like “hey- this is different. this is new. you haven’t seen them like this before and that’s important.” but we got nothing like that.

i mean sure- the conversation with pepa was nice (after the random ass bombshell that she had a stroke which… ???? why was that not mentioned before OR taken into account when eddie was moving????) but it didn’t establish anything new for them; she just said “change is good” but like…. show us a hint of how things are going to change, y’know? it can’t be foreshadowing if there’s nothing of substance to support the foreshadowing (and at this point, we have one more episode of the season- are they seriously going to use all of this ryliver bait and all this “buddie” talk outside and not do anything in the show??)

bc like- until they confess and actually act on their feelings, they are not canon; because until there’s and actual action made, the writers have room to change their mind on things again, and suddenly the idea of buddie is getting pushed back to the end of season nine.

it’s been eight years. eight. years. and we’re no closer to buddie canon than we were at the start of s8. one of them may have a “feelings realization” next episode, but what will that be? just a prolonged glance? a face? something that can easily be explained away once ratings and viewership is up again and they don’t have to drag us along anymore? (until engagement inevitably drops again)

people keep talking about “we need pining” or “we need a slowburn” and im like, at this point anything hindering them from acting on their feelings is just delaying them actually going canon, and we run the risk of the writers just completely giving up (bc again- after eight years, the running in circles has to he exhausting for that writer’s room; it certainly is for me who has been here since day one)

if buddie have not confessed/acted on their feelings in any way after the next episode, then we need to accept that they are just blatantly attempting to queerbait us. because let’s be for real: if nothing happens next ep, what realistically could ryliver talk about pertaining to buddie’s future in these interviews? they won’t know anything, bc nothing has been developed or written. it would just be a whole bunch of “oh i guess we have to wait and see” shit.

which is why i still believe we are still being dragged along by the production to keep engagement going after it started tanking post-episode 15/16; because they have set up nothing for buddie in the finale (aside from individual moments maybe that don’t pertain to each other) and with a building collapse/explosion taking up an entire episode of screentime, we have no room for anything to be setup before credits roll.

overall- i didn’t hate the episode in terms of quality; it was well paced, written (aside from a couple nitpicks in character moments but nothing too drastic) and directed- and ofc the acting was amazing as usual- but from a buddie standpoint, it was not giving what all the buzz around buddie/eddie lately implied otherwise would be giving, and it looks like we’re just going to continue being baited throughout hiatus until they inevitably give one of them a new LI to “stir up drama” and then get stuck in the s6 situation where the show gets canceled and we’re stuck with nothing.