#and the world is saved (it was never at risk)

[yandereforme]

Part two

TW: Mentions of injuries (not graphic), mentions of infertility, neglect,

The fae have several different kingdoms, but the Winter Fae Kingdom is known as the most ruthless towards humans.

The King and Queen had ruled for hundreds of years with no heir, and most outside of the kingdom believed they didn’t love each other.

Their citizens knew the terrifying truth. The two loved each other ruthlessly, and anyone who got in the way of that love risked death or much worse.

Only a few trusted fae knew the king and queen’s trouble conceiving. The doctors informed them that it was unlikely they would ever conceive due to medical issues.

The closest thing to an heir they had was their lovely niece, a princess of the kingdom of Darkness and the daughter of the Queen’s sister, They both showed her the closest thing they knew to kindness, giving her gifts and advice and eliminating any threats to her. (She looked so similar to her mother that anyone who wasn’t fae would assume she was only a winter fae)

Then, they heard about how their niece disappeared, and they raged. For three days they caused storms of ice, sending everyone into panic.

Then, she was found near their land with bruises on her neck but no lasting damage. (The King almost froze the doctor who informed him that the bruises were severe enough that it was unlikely she would have survived more than a few minutes more of the treatment. The Queen had to restrain her brother in law as well, whispering how jumping in would only cause problems.)

She explained how, while practicing her magic, she had accidentally formed a portal and had fallen in. She had been in the human world until she found a naturally occurring portal.

When they asked about the bruises, she blushed slightly, and explained she had been taking food and gotten caught in a trap before being rescued by a human girl who found her.

This was a huge deal. Whenever a fae was saved by a human, it meant a debt. A life debt? That was big magic, something that they refused to leave unpaid for long.

The king and queen personally decide they will keep an eye on this mortal. They were pretty sure this would be another mortal, who just wanted a favor for saving a fae. It would be an arrogant girl who they could grant a single blessing and forget.

They weren’t expecting you. They weren’t expecting a mortal girl who lived life as a shadow, moving through life like it wasn’t real. They weren’t expecting to watch this mortal girl who had saved their niece, saved the closest thing that would ever get to a daughter, be pushed aside by the family she was supposed to have. But most of all, they weren’t expected to become fond of her.

As weeks start passing, the trips to the mortal world to watch this girl were less of a chore and more of a joy. The King adores watching you during your evenings. He settles in a hidden spot as you read, your smiles bringing an odd warmth to his heart. Your yawns are so cute to him, and he will stay until you fall asleep, even if you do not know he is there. 

The queen prefers watching you in the morning. She loves watching the way you look when you wake up, your soft voice while you shower, singing, along to lyrics that she would’ve never cared about if it wasn’t you singing them. She especially loves watching you brush your hair, the gentleness and care you put into it. Often times, she will stay near you until you leave for school.

They can’t spare as much time as he would like, but it was enough. It was enough for others to start noticing, including their niece, and her parents, to notice.

Neither the king or the queen of Winter realized that the king and queen of darkness were well aware of their fascination with their child. It was something they did not want to encourage, but they could not risk offending their neighbors, or the queen of darkness’s family.

They had worried many times that the king and queen of winter would attempt to take their daughter from them. So when they noticed the couples fascination with you? The king and queen of darkness knew they had to make sure you became the Princess of Winter, at all costs.

Taglist: @23xfgg @enchantingarcadecreation

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yan! King and Queen of the Winter Fae

Tw:

You’re Bruce’s biological daughter from a one night stand. You joined the family only a month or so before Jason’s death, which was definitely a big factor of the neglect.

You had one month where the house was good. You had been living with your grandparents, as your mother hadn’t been able to parent you, but they had gotten too old to care for you. So, your mother told Bruce about you, they did a DNA test, and voila! It’s a child

Your first month was tense but good. Bruce was distant and awkward but he genuinely tried. Alfred was always willing to talk with you. Jason was actually really nice to you, and the one time you met Dick, you really liked him.

However, everything changed when Jason died.

You were mourning too, having cared about him, but you were left alone in your grief. Bruce shut you out, rarely showing up to dinner or anything else. Alfred was more distant, colder. Dick wasn’t there. No one was.

Then, a boy with black hair and pale skin started randomly coming in and ordering your dad around, and Alfred welcomed him with open arms. Bruce took longer, but it wasn’t too long until your father started treating that way better than he treated you.

The thing you hated most about the whole situation was that you were absolutely being kept in the dark about something. The minute you entered any room three of them were in conversations stopped. Usually the boy, Timothy, would change the subject or just excuse himself. Then Bruce would go back to being Brody.

You got the message. You stopped going to breakfast or dinner with them. You faded into the background easily, and could go weeks without seeing Tim or Bruce. Alfred was more regularly, but never for long. In the morning before school when you get the bus, he packed you breakfast to go, which was nice.

You spent a lot of time outdoors, even during the winter. That was probably why you started, noticing the odd behavior of the air around you. You noticed the odd sound coming from the abandoned shed on the property.

You weren’t expecting to see a small being that looked like they were made of ice stuck in a mouse trap made of plastic, their oxygen being cut off, but you couldn’t leave them there.

When you entered the shed, having successfully broken the lock, you could tell the being was surprised. You spoke in calm tones, explaining that you lived on the property and you wanted to help them, but that you needed them to hold still.(in the back of your mind, you wondered if they even understood English. Hopefully, if they didn’t, your tone would help them understand.)

It took you a minute to figure out how the trap worked, but once you figured it out, you let the being free. They stared at you for a moment. They flew up to eye level with you for a moment, and touched your nose.

The little hand on your nose felt surprisingly nice. It wasn’t the bad, kind of cold, but rather felt like snow when it hits the tip of your nose. It made you smile.

The being winked at you, smiling and making sounds that you couldn’t quite understand, before they flew off into the sky, which you noticed was rapidly getting darker. You hurried back to the manor to get your dinner, not realizing just what you had started.

Edit: I’m so sorry I haven’t been writing lately! Things have been hectic, but summer starts soon, so I hope I will have more time to write! Also, in case you don’t realize it from reading this, the reader does not know the Waynes are the Batfamily, and the reader has not been publicly acknowledged as a member of the Wayne family. You were supposed to be publicly acknowledged after being there for a month and a half, but when Jason died, those plans got thrown out. 

[lymmsweb]

Giving you all my love

🕷pairing : bucky barnes x gn!reader

🕷word count : 1.9k

🕷tags : fluff, comfort, makeout, non sexual intimacy, showering together, pre established relationship

🕷summary : he comes home after a mission away from you that took longer than expected and seeks your comfort, which you are more than happy to give

It was far from unusual that you spent another afternoon in solitude cooking a meal that only you would eat, nonetheless it didn't provide comfort to the worry lingering in the back of your mind. It had been around 2 weeks since you've seen Bucky, a simple infiltration mission he said, it'd only take a couple days he said, it's a low risk operation he said yet here you were alone and hunched over the stove absentmindedly stirring the pot.

You knew he was probably alright, after all he is a highly trained super soldier who wouldn't go down easily without fight and had saved the world on numerous occasions. Communication had been lost between you and him 4 days ago that felt like light years away, it was like your own personal hell. The house felt empty without him, lacking the warmth that you yearned to bask in in those restless nights without his updates. Horrifying thoughts about possible scenarios he might have caught himself up in danced around your head as you moved robotically around the kitchen, there was nothing though that you could do except wait until his return.

You sat down at the dining table pecking away at the food in front of you, the chair felt like a stone slab underneath you and the program playing on the television sounded like white noise to you. Turning your head to face the window you saw clearly the trees that surrounded your house, swaying softly in the wind as the sun slowly set behind them. A little black bird landed on a branch, staying still as its feathers ruffled and seemingly stared back at you. A soft smile tugged at your lips at the thought of it staring at its reflection in the window as if it were checking itself out in a mirror.

"Started without me?" a quiet voice teased as it broke your concentration, you had no time to think before your body involuntarily jolted from the rough and shaky hands wrapping themselves around your shoulders and pulling you close into an embrace. It scared you momentarily as you hadn't heard the door open nor his footsteps but that is what you've learned to accept when dating a highly skilled assassin. The smell of sweat and musk hit your nose as you felt a warm toned body press itself onto your back and the arms around your shoulders tightened, a shaky exhale escaped your lips as you turned to look at your assailant.

Your gaze met his, his pupils so dilated there was only a small blue ring encapsulating them. The bags under his eyes were noticeable, the stress tugging at his face causing small and delicate creases to indent his skin which contrasted the scratches that littered it as if he got into a fight with a cat. You had little time to memorize his face as he slumped onto you and dropped his head onto your shoulder, his dark hair tickling your neck and jaw.

"Bucky?" you choked out as you quickly pushed up against him as you stood up, his heavy frame offering some resistance to this action. The contact was broken momentarily which elicited a soft whine from him, he quickly closed the distance - unceremoniously crashing his lips against yours. He has missed your lips slightly which caused quiet snickers to erupt both of you as he glided his cracked lips against yours. He tilted his head and pushed into you harshly when you opened your mouth slightly to give him better access to you, ravenously exploring your mouth as if it had never been ventured on before. He tasted slightly metallic against your tounge which was weakly fighting back a losing battle against his passionate assault. Bucky's metal arm snaked around your torso and rested his hand on the back of you head and his fingers latched onto your hair as if it were his lifeline, the other arm wrapping itself around you waist and pulling your bodies flush together. In contrast your hands cradled his jaw and rubbed small circles on his cheekbone with your thumb, allowing him to take the lead.

This moment seemed to have lasted forever as it finally took a few minutes to come back to the surface for air, the room seemed to be on fire from the heat emitted between you two. A few inches separated your now swollen lips, his breath smelling vaguely like a strawberry mint whilst he panted for air.

"I missed you so much doll." he hummed quietly against your lips, trying to initiate things further as he peppered more kisses on you. You beamed him a smile as you tilted your head away, increasing the distance between your faces which caused him to reflect back a puzzled look with a slight frown.

"I missed you too baby, what on earth took you so long?" you questioned, the worry hadn't dissipated from your mind as the more you studied his face the evidence of pain inflicted became apparent in the form of bloomed bruises littering his face alongside angry red scratches that clearly became irritated as a result of the intimacy you both indulged in. A low groan replied as he scrunched his face in frustration at the thought of the situation that kept him from you.

"It ended up... we had complications that we..." he trailed off, slowly losing himself in thought. Patience was the key factor the relationship between you two had been as successful as it has been, you didn't pressure him to explain as truth be told all that mattered was that he was back in your arms. Bucky usually came back from missions close to exhausted, not physically but more mentally thanks to the serum running through his veins. Going on missions was all that he knew for the last couple decades which you could only imagine the impact that such a thing would have on someone.

"How about we get you clean? I bet you haven't showered in a while you sick freak." you teased as your hands slid down his toned arms and pried his hands off your body. He rolled his eyes at the faux insult though he became painfully aware of his current physical state. "Only if you join me" he shot back with a fatigued tone, intertwining his hand with yours as you began to lead him to the shared bathroom. He had no concept of personal space as he was almost so close to you he was basically draped on top of you, not that you minded though you could hear him hitting the corners of furniture behind you which would make a normal person wince.

The bathroom was relatively spacious though standard, Bucky didn't have many facial nor body products so your products ended up taking up a lot of the space. When you two had first moved in together you remember the heart attack he almost induced when he revealed he used a 3 in 1 shampoo that also worked as a face wash, needless to say you heavily improved the quality of his self care. A comfortable silence rested between you two. Bucky let go of you hand begrudgingly as he began to undo his tactical gear meanwhile you leaned over to the shower and turned it on, allowing for the water to heat up whilst you two stripped.

"Come here," you motioned him to close the gap which he happily complied to, he had taken off his slim bullet proof vest and his boots already which made you job easier "can i take these off?" you questioned as you softly poked at his top.

"Jesus aren't you forward." he mused as he gazed at your face, squinting slightly "not a lot of guys like that."

You scoffed at the comment and began to pry the shirt off of him which was basically muscle memory by now, it clung onto him slightly due to a thin layer of sweat on him. The shirt was quickly discarded to a corner of the bathroom haphazardly. His torso looked like a warzone, it seemed like there were more blotches of purple and green rather than untainted skin. Absentmindedly you began to trace healed scars that were inflicted upon him whilst he was the Winter Soldier, carefully feathering over the bruises. He noted the concern and sadness contorting your face and raised his hand to caress your cheek, shame washing over him when your glassy eyes looked right back at him. Your eyes then flickered to the huge and jagged scar that rested on the skin where the junction of metal and flesh met, it kind of looked like lightning you noted mentally. He hummed when your lips places small kisses along that scar, you never once judged him for what he underwent despite his constant struggle with accepting who he had been. Your fingers fiddled with his belt, successfully unbuckling it after what you deemed to be an embarrassing amount of time. Prying off his jeans his legs seemed to be in a much better condition than his torso, rather having very small bruises peppered along it.

"You too doll, i did say you were going to join me." he blushed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You felt a warmth rise to your cheeks whilst you separated from him and began to discarded your clothes swiftly. He took in your figure as each layer was stripped off like an artist studying his muse, yet there was not an ounce of lust clouding his eyes - just pure love. Quite frankly he could probably paint you off by heart due to the amount of time he spent studying every curve and crevice of your body. Once you stripped the cold air rushing in from the window was noticeable and uncomfortable, you reached into the shower and sighed as the warm water hit your hand. You hopped in lightly, quickly followed by Bucky that had stripped down to nothing as well. He moaned as the water hit is back, it felt heavenly to his overworked muscles and to finally get the grime off of him.

You got to work quickly, maneuvering him around the shower that was a little too small for the both of you and used his brand new scented shampoo on his hair. He tilted his head in order to not only lean into the physical contact he'd been craving but also to allow you better access for you fingers to work away the blood and oil stuck to his hair. The shampoo foamed up comically giving him a makeshift helmet before you rinsed it away. You gently rubbed the body wash on him, whispering soft apologies each time he tensed underneath your touch, which were quickly shut down by him. However you took the opportunity to also massage his stiff muscles where you could to bring him any sort of relief. Time seemed to pass by as you worked your way down his body and soon turned him around to face you, working away similarly along his front. Bucky sort of looked like a horse sleeping, his arms laying limply on his side, he stood still like a soldier, blinking groggily and even 'resting his eyes' for long minutes at a time. It left you pondering how amusing it was to have the once most feared and deadly myth completely vulnerable underneath your touch as you took care of him.

A/N : this is my very first work after a two year haitus so i'm sorry if its kinda bad!! ugh my obsession with him has been driving me so crazy that i just had to start writing again

[deliciousangelfestival]

Senator Barnes - 2

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Summary : This is the story of how Bucky Barnes, a man who never imagined life outside the battlefield, met a bold woman from a well-known political family. One unexpected dinner later, he found himself on a path to becoming a senator.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , -

Character : senator!Bucky barnes × female! Readers

By the way, I published my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please leave a comment and reblog. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You and Bucky stepped out of the restaurant into a blinding wave of flashing cameras. The air snapped with the sound of shutters and shouted questions. With your practiced political smile—the kind that could cut glass without leaving a mark—you waved gracefully to the press, your posture serene, composed, untouchable.

“Smile, Bucky,” you murmured through your teeth, eyes still fixed on the reporters.

Bucky’s jaw tensed. He gave a stiff, reluctant half-smile, the kind that barely counted, and ducked into the black car waiting by the curb. He didn’t like being watched. Never had. Cameras weren’t just eyes—they were weapons.

Outside, a journalist called out, loud enough for the mic to catch it. “Is it true the Winter Soldier is considering a run for office?”

You paused mid-step, turning your head slightly. The smile didn’t falter.

“At this moment,” you said, voice smooth as velvet, “I want you to stop calling him the Winter Soldier. We just had a brief discussion. This isn’t just politics—Mr. Barnes cares deeply about this country’s safety and future prosperity.”

Inside the car, Bucky’s brow twitched. He let out a low scoff, barely audible. Damn, she’s good, he thought. Effortless. No hesitation. No stammer. You were born for this world of masks and maneuvers—political royalty through and through.

You slid into the seat beside him, calm as ever. The door clicked shut behind you, sealing the world out.

“I never said yes to all this,” he muttered, his voice a quiet storm.

You glanced at him—not annoyed, not offended. Just calm. Calculating, maybe. But not cold. “Don’t you ever get tired of risking your life out there?”

He didn’t even blink. “No. I stopped being selfish when I joined the army.”

You inclined your head slightly. “And thank you for your service.”

A stretch of silence filled the space between you. The kind of silence that felt like a breath being held.

Then you leaned in, your tone shifting—low, careful, deliberate. “But what if I told you that working in an office—inside the system—could save more lives than fighting in the field?”

Bucky turned his head slightly toward you, eyes narrowing. Not suspicious, not angry—just... listening.

“Explain,” he said.

You did. With precision.

“This country loves war. It thrives on it. And it hides behind the illusion of diplomacy while funding conflict from the shadows. But if the right people get into office—people who’ve seen what war does, who’ve bled because of it—maybe it doesn’t have to stay that way.”

He looked away, jaw tight. Part of him wanted to stop listening. But the other part—the part that still woke up from nightmares—knew you were right.

And then you dropped the real bait.

“Especially with how human experimentation is trending again.”

His spine stiffened. Muscles coiled. You didn’t need to see his face to know you’d struck something deep.

“Being turned into a weapon,” you said, softer now, your words more personal, “must’ve been hell.”

He answered through clenched teeth. “Nightmare.”

You nodded once. Respectful. Not pitying. “And yet even now, after all the investigations, the hearings, the promises—those tests still exist. Hidden in contracts. Buried in black budgets. Shielded by the same private companies that built them in the first place.”

His metal hand curled into a slow, deliberate fist. The sound of the plates shifting against each other filled the quiet space.

You didn’t flinch. You leaned in.

“If you run... and you win... you’re more than just a name on a ballot. You’re living proof. You become the man who took what they did to him—and rewrote the law to stop it from ever happening again.”

He stared straight ahead. The city passed by in a blur of lights and shadows outside the window.

Justice. That’s what you’d called it. He wasn’t sure he believed in it anymore. But maybe... maybe it was worth a second look.

Bucky shifted in his seat, still chewing on everything you'd just said, when your next words hit him like a curveball.

“You put a lot of faith in me,” he muttered, suspicion creeping into his voice. “Why?”

You didn’t sugar-coat it. “Being honest with you? I want revenge.” You looked straight at him, unflinching. “I want to humiliate my ungrateful ex-fiancé. The man who didn’t value me when I stood beside him, propped him up when no one else would.”

Bucky’s eyebrows twitched, his expression unreadable. A flicker of something—surprise? amusement?—passed through his eyes.

So it’s personal.

Of course it was.

He leaned back slightly, arms crossed, not in defiance but calculation. This woman across from him wasn’t just playing political chess—she was dragging ghosts into the game. And still, she was bold enough to say it out loud. Most people hid ambition behind pretty speeches. Not you.

Still, something about the way you said it tugged at him. Not pity—he didn’t do pity. But he knew what betrayal looked like. Felt like.

He’d trusted people too. And he’d been used as a weapon in return.

You gave a small, sharp smile, not cruel but purposeful. “I want to show him exactly what he gave up. This,” you gestured loosely between yourself and him, “is what he missed.”

Bucky blinked, caught off-guard for a second.

Was this just revenge to you? Or was it something more?

Was he a pawn, or a partner?

Part of him didn’t care. He’d been called worse than a pawn. Used for less.

But another part—the part that still ached when someone saw him as more than the sum of his past—couldn’t help but ask himself:

What am I really doing here?

*****

THE NEXT MORNING

A firm knock jolted Bucky awake, not that he���d truly been asleep. His mind never let him rest, not fully. He sat up instantly, still half-dressed in yesterday’s shirt, and stalked toward the door like a soldier on instinct.

He opened it.

Five people stood in a straight line, all wearing black turtlenecks, tailored pants, and the kind of silent confidence that made Bucky instantly uncomfortable. They looked like an Apple Store crew hired by the CIA.

He blinked. “Apple store isn’t here.”

The man in the center raised a pair of silver shears with a glint in his eye.

“Obviously. We’re here for you.”

Bucky’s shoulders tensed, instinctively defensive. “You planning to stab me or something?”

“No,” the man grinned. “You’re getting a makeover.”

Bucky squinted. “Was it her?”

“Absolutely. She’ll be here in an hour,” the man said with pride. “And after that, both of you are going to the tailor.”

“The what?”

“No time for questions.” The team marched past him like they owned the place.

Bucky turned slightly, baffled as they moved in. One was already unpacking products from a sleek leather kit. Another had laid out two jackets on the back of his couch. Someone was measuring the lighting near the mirror.

“This is a hostage situation,” Bucky muttered.

One hour later, you stepped into his apartment just as the hairstylist swept the final strands off his shoulder with a black cloth.

“Voila!” the stylist announced, stepping back dramatically.

You tilted your head and smirked. “Nice. He’s getting more handsome.”

Bucky, sitting upright in the chair, raised an eyebrow. “I’m handsome?”

You nodded immediately, like it was a scientific fact. “You are.”

He blinked, visibly flustered. His cheeks colored slightly, the compliment catching him off guard. He looked away, but the smile was creeping in.

“You’ll be hearing it a lot during the campaign,” you added. “Get used to it.”

You checked your watch. “Put on your outfit. We’re going to the tailor next.”

The way you said it—brisk, professional, like it was just another item on your to-do list—left him feeling unexpectedly... disappointed.

******

The boutique tailor shop was tucked into the corner of an upscale block in New York, its windows clear and minimal. No mannequins. Just soft lighting and the faint scent of cedar, wool, and clean leather. The moment you both stepped inside, it was obvious—this wasn’t just tailoring. This was legacy craftsmanship.

Every fabric swatch shimmered subtly under the light. The leather looked like it had been imported straight from the hills of Tuscany.

Bucky stood stiffly in front of a full-length mirror, arms out in a T-pose while an elderly tailor—elegant and precise—measured his shoulders with calm, clinical grace.

“You are... unusually broad, sir,” the tailor murmured, adjusting the tape.

“You should’ve seen him before the haircut,” you replied smoothly.

The tailor smiled politely. “And what sort of fit are we going for? Classic? Military cut? Modern silhouette?”

You stepped forward with your tablet, tapping swiftly. “Three-piece suit. Wool blend, navy base with subtle charcoal pinstripe. Tailored fit. Clean cuffs. Medium spread collar. Hidden buttons—no shine. And don’t forget the overcoat. Cashmere. Black.”

Bucky turned slightly, still holding the T-pose. “You’re good at this.”

“I grew up learning it.” You met his eyes, then turned the tablet toward him. “Campaign starts soon. Optics matter.”

He exhaled slowly. “Don’t expect much. I’m not exactly likable.”

“You’re wrong about that.”

He scoffed lightly. “I admire your optimism.”

You didn’t flinch. “You’re right about one thing—the older generation will resist you. You scare them. You’re unpredictable. Too raw.”

Bucky arched an eyebrow. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“But,” you continued, stepping closer, “the younger generation? They’ll be your loudest voice. They don’t want perfect. They want real.”

You stood beside him now, both of you facing the mirror. The suit-in-progress draped across his frame with surprising elegance.

“You should’ve read the comments online, Bucky,” you said softly. “They like you because you fight. You didn’t just survive the mess—you walked straight into it, every time.”

He looked at his reflection. Still felt like someone else.

“Maybe I should keep using my fists instead of words,” he muttered. “At least I know how to win a fight.”

You smiled, but there was no softness in it—just certainty.

“No one’s afraid of a punch they see coming,” you said, voice low and unwavering. “But a man who’s survived being broken—reprogrammed, hunted, hated—and still stands tall in front of the world? That scares people. Because it forces them to confront what real strength looks like.”

You stepped closer, eyes locked on his.

“They’ll listen to you, Bucky. Not because you speak loud—but because you’ve lived through the kind of pain they can’t even imagine... and you didn’t let it make you cruel.”

“And I’m pretty sure the voters would rather choose a fighter over a cheater,” you said coolly—voice calm, but the edge in your tone made it clear who you meant.

Bucky let out a dry scoff, his arms crossed as he leaned slightly against the wall. “Yeah. Can’t argue with that.”

He didn’t press, but he caught the flicker in your eyes—the hurt behind the sharp words. You were still hurting from your ex. You still hadn’t cried. You hadn’t broken down.

“I’m grateful you have faith in me. But I’m afraid you’ll end up disappointed,” Bucky said, his voice low and cautious. He didn’t quite meet your eyes—his shoulders slightly hunched, like he was already bracing for the fallout.

You smirked, unfazed. “Oh, Bucky… I will prove you wrong.”

Bucky looked at you, studying your face. The confidence in your tone, the fire behind your eyes—it threw him off balance. You weren’t like the others. You didn’t flinch at his past or soften your voice around his guilt. You challenged him, like you already saw the man he could be, not just the one who had survived.

Maybe... just maybe, you would prove him wrong.

My book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing are on Kindle. Check it out!

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Author note: Please leave a comment, besties. I'd like to know what your thoughts are on this one. 🙏🏻❤️

[stromblessed]

henry and hans and kcd's coming-of-age themes turn into an absolutely compelling gordian knot if you insert one trope in particular, one you'll see in historical fiction and epic fantasy every so often, and one i heard a few times in my fundamentalist religious upbringing:

that homosexual attachment is a sign of immaturity

henry and hans both have some growing up to do throughout the games. henry was coddled by his parents, hans' adolescence seems perpetual. they - hans in particular - use and discard women as they please, risk their own dishonor in a dozen ways, are naive about politics, can pick and choose tenets of chivalry when it's convenient with little self-awareness, and most strongly highlighted in the narrative: they want to live a life of adventure free of real responsibility

that last one in particular isn't all bad, it's just painfully innocent, and a painful misunderstanding on hans' part especially, who is only just beginning to see how not free he truly is. but it's also, for me at least, a big part of what drives the romanticizing of hans and henry's relationship, a big part of how arthuriana can be inserted into their narrative, and an excellent tool for yearning

the trope i mentioned can basically be a way of saying: sure you, a boy, want to kiss boys. that's all well and good. but that's not real love and it's not a serious relationship because in this society, you can't take that into adulthood. when a boy becomes a man, he marries a woman, has children, takes up real responsibilities, and leaves behind childish things. and those homosexual feelings are childish because if you commit yourself to them, it will never lead to maturity - wife, kids, contribution to society, godliness, the aptitude to resist temptation. recall that in kcd's medieval period in catholicism, active suffering (be it mild or severe) without giving in is what makes you saintly

for girls and women, rinse and repeat but for all the implications that come with being female instead of male re: expectations and responsibility

a major story thread binding henry and hans together is how they free each other. hans, through his adventurous nature and his privilege, and often with his recklessness, launches henry from a life of serfdom and servitude into one of renown, heroism, and exploration. (this isn't a part of canon due to the timeline of storytelling, but i like to think that if everyone was serious about henry being hans' right hand, henry would also have been given a noble's education rather than him needing to figure it all out himself to support game mechanics) henry gets the more literal role by physically saving hans again and again, but also by being hans' one real friend and support in the world as far as we can tell. they make each other's stories more interesting and more fun. we actively want them to have that life of adventure and freedom together

and hans cements that longing by bringing lancelot and galehaut into the romantic plotline. lancelot and galehaut had that life together, and their myth is permitted and loved by kcd's medieval world because it operates within this lowercase-"r" romantic realm of loyalty, devotion, fantasy, courtly love, and friendship. even today, a capital-"r" Romantic interpretation of their story would be considered just that: an interpretation. the masses would have considered lancelot and galehaut to be the pinnacle of platonic - utter love and devotion while still being, for lack of a better word in this analysis, "mature"

i actually thought it was viciously clever of the kcd writers to include an arthurian myth in hansry's romance because of the meta of it all. a platonic interpretation of lancelot and galehaut is the mainstream. a platonic interpretation of henry and hans is (WAS) the mainstream. even in the game, henry can respond to hans' story very innocently, as though the capital-"r" Romantic undertones have flown straight over his head, such that hans has to gently guide henry toward the conclusion. i'm not even fully convinced that hans himself sees lancelot and galehaut as fully capital-"r" Romantic - i AM convinced that he heard about their life of devotion and freedom and adventure together and that whenever it was that he saw henry and put two and two together, he felt a longing so strong that it 180'd his character development

and their kiss hits like the most satisfying lightning strike ever because. you mean to tell me that's not mature?

hans is crying at the thought of henry's death, and then again at the almost-reality of his rejection. hans' voice breaks for the first time EVER in game. it's the most serious and solemn we've ever seen him, even the most desperate. it's the craziest, most delicious whiplash from every time we've seen him and his cockiness with a woman. henry experiences the full spectrum of human emotion in 2 minutes. it is by far the most serious and, in my opinion, most heartfelt love scene he can have in both games. it is absolutely the most risky romance for henry, too. and afterward, hans and henry are both all in - even though we know that hans' intentions to skirt or cancel the wedding will come to naught. they are committed

they've grown into their manhood together and made each other better people. because we see behind the closed door that henry locks, we see that their romance is just an extension of that character growth. whereas our trope would say that their growth is stunted. it's never stated outright because it shouldn't be and doesn't need to be, but the masterclass of growth and emotion in the hansry plotline stands as its own proof of the fallacy of that "homosexuality is immature" viewpoint, as well as all viewpoints that romantic relationships are cheaper or less pure than, say, masculine friendships. the only difference between platonic and romantic hansry is hans' willingness to act on his feelings, as many have pointed out before

and so i cannot even tell you how fast all the breath left my body when hanush IMMEDIATELY slams reality home with the wedding conversation. henry and hans' silent exchange. hans' immaturity has been a thorn in hanush's side for the entire story. and now he's going to strongarm hans into that mainstream view of maturity. the very thing that hans wanted all along - now keeping him from henry, the actual real physical manifestation of all the love, devotion, freedom, and recognition that hans has ever REALLY wanted. the irony is so delicious because hanush doesn't know about hans' homosexual feelings - but the theme is there, the trope is there, hovering, and haunting, and so masterfully and absolutely disproved so very recently, and so the player can only sit there, crushed and grasping for any hope

so yeah. the tangle of homosexuality being perceived as immature, vs. hans and henry showing real immaturity throughout the first game especially as they fumble through heterosexual dalliances and chivalry and politics, vs. hans and henry's gay love for each other being the most mature love they've ever experienced, vs. the platonic ideal of masculine friendship not actually being that different from true romantic devotion, vs. mainstream societal expectations of family and masculine leadership being neither much of a choice nor true freedom, vs. henry and hans' friendship and love being a real representation of a life of adventure and daring that would in fact hold them back from their society and challenge what society has led them to believe they should want out of adulthood (henry: settling down and all that comes with it, hans: power, recognition, his birthright)

[jessesluvr]

Heyy🩷What abt Joel Miller x Reader. Where not only Joel gets beaten up by Abby but also reader,

But then Reader looks dead but isn't and Joel will live yk but they take Joel back to jackson and not reader bc they think shes dead but then someone (Tommy?) Is there to collect her body but then realises she's still alive and she's conscouis but wasnt able to move AND STILL LAYS IN THE EXACT SPOT and shes feels like she wasnt important or smt and she gets like really sad or something :)

Thank you<3

forgotten | joel miller x reader

author's note : gee, this one kind of broke something in me but all is well ! i feel like this is one of those fears that never goes away. i hope i did your request justice ! please forgive me if not </3.

summary : after joel and the reader are brutally beaten, she’s left behind and presumed dead—until tommy discovers she’s still alive, forcing her to confront the pain of being forgotten by the one she risked everything to save.

word count : 2k

blood. that was the first thing you tasted—iron-heavy and warm—pooling at the corner of your mouth as you lay sprawled on the wooden floor of the old lodge.

then came the silence. deafening in its aftermath.

joel’s body lay only a few feet from yours. unmoving. broken. his eyes half-lidded and unfocused, blood streaking down from a deep gash on his brow. abby stood over him, breathing hard, her knuckles raw and red from repeated blows. her expression? something between triumph and hatred.

and you?

you had tried to stop her. you screamed, lunged, fought—bit, even—desperate to reach joel before the final blow, but her crew had held you down. your ribs cracked when someone kicked you in the side. your skull rang after being slammed against the floor. eventually, your body stopped responding. not from fear—but from betrayal by your own limbs.

then it all faded.

darkness wasn’t peaceful.

it was loud.

it whispered all your worst fears in your ear, over and over.

you weren't strong enough. you weren’t fast enough. you weren’t important enough.

when the world returned, it came in pieces.

you couldn’t move. couldn’t speak. couldn’t blink. but you could feel.

the cold seeping through your back from the blood-soaked wood. the dull throb in your ribs. the slow, wet roll of a tear down your temple.

footsteps. voices.

“joel’s still breathing—get him up, now!” that was tommy.

they were taking him. saving him.

but not you.

“leave her,” another voice said. “she’s gone.”

no.

you screamed in your mind, begged your body to twitch, a finger, anything. you weren’t dead. just paralyzed, maybe. in shock. you felt everything. but they couldn’t see that.

you lay in the exact same spot. still. silent. cold.

and they left you.

one day later — jackson

the snow crunched under tommy’s boots as he rode back out with a small cart in tow. they didn’t usually bring bodies back—there was a quiet spot just outside jackson for burying the fallen—but something about it… he couldn’t leave her there. not you.

joel was alive, stable, barely conscious.

he hadn’t said a word since he woke.

but the way he clutched at the hospital bed, the hoarse whisper of your name when no one was around—it gutted tommy.

so, he rode back for you.

when he reached the cabin, the door was still wide open. blood everywhere. your body still lying where they'd left it. frozen stiff.

until he moved closer—and saw your eyelashes flutter.

his breath caught. “no. no fuckin’ way…”

you didn’t hear his words, but you heard something: the shift in the air. the way it broke against your cheek as he knelt down. warm hands touched your face.

then, like something out of a dream:

“(y/n)… it’s tommy. you’re alright now.”

you didn’t know if he meant it. you didn’t feel alright. but you were seen.

and that was enough.

three days later — jackson, medical wing

you woke in a clean bed, sunlight leaking through canvas curtains.

everything hurt. muscles, ribs, jaw. but your eyes moved freely, and your lips parted.

the nurse rushed to call tommy.

moments later, he arrived.

“you’re okay,” he said. “shit, i thought—god, we all did. but you pulled through. strong as ever.”

you gave him a weak smile, one hand gripping the blanket. “where… joel?”

his face tightened. “alive. resting. he’s… healing. haven’t told him yet. didn’t want to get his hopes up in case—”

“i need to see him,” you whispered.

he nodded. “give it a day. i’ll get him here.”

that night

you lay alone, staring at the ceiling, and it came crashing in.

they left you.

they left you.

it didn’t matter that it was a mistake. it didn’t matter that you were alive now.

they assumed you were dead without checking. without touching you.

you weren’t as important. not to them.

joel was.

you loved him for that. and hated yourself for envying it.

next morning

the door creaked open, and a familiar voice muttered, “that her?”

you turned your head just as joel stepped inside, limping, bandaged, eyes bloodshot.

his breath hitched.

his gaze locked on yours like it couldn’t believe what it was seeing.

“(y/n)…”

you choked on a sob. “hi.”

and he was across the room, falling to his knees beside the bed, taking your face in his calloused hands.

“i thought you—tommy said you…” he shook his head violently. “jesus, i thought you were gone.”

“i was still there,” you said. “when you left.”

his hands froze.

“i couldn’t move, joel. couldn’t scream. i was awake when they dragged you away.”

his eyes widened in horror.

“they didn’t check,” you whispered. “no one… no one even checked.”

he leaned forward, resting his forehead to yours. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking. “i’m so goddamn sorry.”

you swallowed hard. “i didn’t matter.”

his grip tightened.

“no. don’t say that. don’t even think it.”

“but you—” your voice trembled. “you were worth saving.”

he looked at you like you were the center of his whole world. “you are the reason i wanted saving.”

silence fell between you, thick with things left unsaid.

“i was ready,” he whispered. “when she came at me, i thought—fine. let it end. but then i saw you fight. i saw you bleeding. screaming for me. and i—god, i didn’t want to leave you behind.”

“but you did.”

he flinched.

“i know,” he rasped. “and i’ll never forgive myself for that.”

you turned your face into his palm, closing your eyes.

“i just needed someone to see me.”

“i do,” he said instantly. “i see you. every damn day. even when you’re not there.”

tears slipped down your cheeks. he wiped them away.

“you think you weren’t important? you’re the only reason i’ve lasted this long. you think i would’ve fought to stay alive without you?”

“i don’t know.”

“i do.” his voice was hoarse. “and now that i got you back, i’m not losing you again. ever.”

one week later

recovery was slow.

joel came every morning, every night. sometimes he’d just sit beside you, holding your hand in silence. other times he’d talk, tell you about the new patrol routes, how ellie was doing, how they were rebuilding the greenhouse.

but one day, you sat on the porch together, and you turned to him.

“joel?”

he looked at you.

“you left me.”

his face twisted. “i know.”

“i don’t know how to forgive that.”

he nodded slowly. “you don’t have to. not now. not ever. i’ll carry that weight.”

you leaned your head against his shoulder. “but i still love you.”

he exhaled sharply, curling his arm around you. “i love you too, darlin’. always have.”

you closed your eyes.

still healing. still scarred.

but not invisible.

not anymore.

[statisticalcats2]

One of these days I'll finally learn my lesson about the trap of thinking I can tell my mom stuff about what I'm doing in the little independence I have in my life. Today was not that day.

[larkwinged]

the thing is, as much as i always dreamt of having kids one day (my views have changed drastically since yk who is back in office), i dont think any of my selfships would have kids. it’s a hard no for wildfire, clockwork, fyreflower, roar of dawn, and all the others.

the only ones i can see actually settling down and thinking about it would be dawn and chiori or artemis and eula. other than them, none of the others would have kids

[landonkirbyappreciation]

It’s so absurd how they had golem Landon telling Hope that she needed to worry about Landon less and everyone else more. When Landon had literally melted, been trapped in Malivore, been trapped alone in a prison world full of monsters with no help or powers, for how many weeks, all while everyone else was safely living their lives at the school. But no, don’t worry about Landon, worry about everyone else. That sort of mentality really sums up the show though, like… Landon is in grave danger, Landon is trapped in another dimension, Landon’s body has been taken over, Landon died, Landon is trapped in purgatory, Landon lost a piece of his soul, every bad thing ever is happening to Landon but let’s not worry about any of that and focus on other irrelevant things instead. And care about anyone and anything else but him while he suffers. That was basically the show in a nutshell.

[chirpsythismorning]

🎨 🖼️ 🌈 🩹 🧍🏽💡 🔮⚡️☄️

Blue Moon by Ella Fitzgerald

previous ⏪︎ now playing ⏩ next back to playlist

[antoncrane]

Random TOW question: When visiting Phineas, do you go alone or take companions with you? (I ask because I realised that I’ve always gone to see him solo. Legit’ never once dragged anyone along.) Also I know this could have been a poll, but I genuinely enjoy hearing everyone’s reasons for doing things.

[theood]

Sorry to beat the dead horse I live in lately but I'm so tired. A break from social media probably could help. If I figure out how else to occupy my time doing absolutely nothing. It's what I say every fucking day. Just wish I had friends. People my age around here to talk too. Even younger. Anything. I'm so fucking lonely. I love everyone I talk to online, I have meaningful connections with so many of you but I also haven't had meaningful conversation IRL in idk. Years probably. I haven't seen any of my old friends because we moved and I had to isolate myself because no one really wanted to hang out with me or could get here. And I really don't do anything, I can't be stressed. I can't be depressed I can't. I can't. I can't. Just like every adult in my life says. I don't know. I just wish I could actually see it's going to get better. Be better for me

[theskyexists]

You know what I think is so....there's such a pseudo respect for science on this website specifically but - just like in many societies generally - only when it speaks with authority. And yeah, the scientific method is how we're trying to find out truth about things, so we can base our decisions on this truth. At one point - you're gonna have to speak with some authority based on the research that has been done. But. So many people - in society and on this website - have not studied to become scientists. They have not learned about the scientific method. So all they see is apparently - science as authority. But science as authority is a consensus. 'Consensus' reached by multiple individual scientists who are no longer in major disagreement because so much research has been done that it SEEMS LIKE we're on to something. And yet, even then, everything may turn out to be wrong. Because people have been fabricating results for example (happened really seriously within the field of psychology) or because it turned out that most studies' methods or assumptions were less rigorous or accurate than desirable (lookin askance at economics) or the classic paradigm shift in physics where some whole new set of ideas topples earlier ones. It seems like we've reached a pretty solid idea of things. But when is that point? Very few people have been taught to recognise it. Which requires actually reading/scanning studies. Or at least good summaries. Getting a sense of what the landscape of ideas is. What are major theories and assumptions and results? (In uni, you get handed this in a course). More importantly, what is missing?? Once you go digging into any subject it generally turns out there's more gaps in understanding and especially empirical results WITH good methods than what's actually known. In uni, you're taught to recognise how researchers might have fucked up (at least, they attempt to teach this). What's solid stuff? What's rigorous research? What is valid and reliable? When is something TRUE? Here comes my personal opinion: if there's not 3- 10 citations behind a statement then you're knitting a web of maybes together. Actually it's NOT just my personal opinion, it's a major problem in scholarship and science that scientists are NOT reproducing studies because they are not rewarded for it - when the scientific method REQUIRES reproduction of results for any kind of robust 'truth' to emerge.

But most people are simply 100% not taught about HOW our societies make truth (emerge) - or rather how scientists should be doing this. They are delivered truth by the authority: science. But the nature of the scientific process delivers differing narratives, theories, hypotheses, especially until a kind of consensus is reached. So people take one study and run with it. Or 7 wildly differing studies which seem to be about the same thing but really aren't. And that's not even non-uni-educated people only, I've seen plenty of paper-publishing people knit their stuff together that way. Sometimes that's all the information there is! But though scientists are taught to point to the sources of information for statements they make - that doesn't mean that everything published is Fact. Most discussions of results would acknowledge this strenuously. Still, they're often cited that way if it suits the narrative of the paper pointing at them.

My point? Wish people would be MORE skeptical of 'science'. What? I hear you ask? More crazies who don't listen to reason? No - I just wish more people would have access to and the means to and the desire to and have respect for doing one's own research with the scientific method as FALLIBLE BUT ENDLESSLY SELF- ADJUSTING TRUTH-SEEKING MECHANISM in the backs of their minds. Which means reading. Literally just means reading, and staying critical, and recognising when things are not nearly ready to be called TRUTH yet at all and when things ARE ready to be called TRUTH (looking at climate change and its human causes and the major consensus on this).

What I mean is - again - wish people would actually read studies. Wish this was a thing taught to every child in secondary school. Otherwise you get people pointing at 30 studies about completely different arguments / completely different scope that lead back to about three studies of actual results eventually which didn't have amazing methods. And that's TRUTH and anyone who denied this Substantiated Common Sense is a moral idiot. Maybe let's do some rigorous testing first and then some pilots.

[mochiwrites]

Hallo, I have a question: I know that Grian and HG will end up together in your bodyguard au. But will they ever be exposed to be dating? How will the public take it? Won't it be risky for Ariana when HG out saving the rest of the world?

Ngl, if they do get found out to be dating, I also want Scar to have Grian as his partner so that his name would be cleaned lol. I want their public identities and secret identities to be happy 😭

hihi!!! :D

this is smth I’ve been sitting on, actually! my initial thought is ariana and hotguy probably won’t ever tell the public about their relationship. for safety reasons first and foremost. but grian and scar… there’s a possibility I think. it’s tricky because it’s important to them that they avoid any hints to their alter egos, but or small, and while on the surface, scar revealing he’s in a relationship with grian could lead to some unwanted attention for grian

the whole reason Why grian just being grian works as a way to hide her identity as ari is because grian as a civilian is a nobody. no one knows who she is, she’s inconspicuous

but if she were to be brought into the limelight, it’d put her at risk of being exposed (because let’s be honest, scar would love to take Any excuse to talk about how much he loves grian, even if they tried to keep names out of an announcement. and people love to go digging)

you’d have people watching her every move now as grian And ariana, cameras in her face. if she adopts a persona for them that’s too close to ari, people might draw connections. and :( scar knows how much pressure she’s already under as ariana. to shove her into public eye as grian too? that’s way too much </3

(I do think though, that at some point, years down the line, scar drops a “yeah so my wife/partner and I—” and never says Anything about his relationship again)

I think :((( grian would want to, because she hates seeing how people talk about scar as if he’s a heartless guy who uses people and then throws them aside when he’s done. and she’d try to talk to him about doing an announcement or smth because she wants to shut everyone else up

scar gets a little emotional about it but gently shuts her down because he’s not willing to put grian through that and throw her civilian life into disarray. he loves her far too much to do that to her, not for smth like clearing her name

[nazmazh]

You refused to let the world refuse to change.

///

Less succinctly:

Turns out, you actually can do something about the world-ending crisis that will make the planet uninhabitable for future generations but not yourselves, instead of just leaving it for them to solve.

(If only solving climate change actually was as easy as just beating it up)

A mirror breaks

[prisonhannibal]

!! DONT SKIP !! donations urgently needed They are only at €5,561 out of €50,000 goal

I was contacted by Nader to draw pictures for and help spread his brother Abdulsalam Al-Anqar’s fundraiser to save their family. Nader is a 17 year old boy who lives in Gaza with his family: parents Ahmed (54) and mother Iman (49), brothers Abdulsalam (26), Mohammed (14), and Omar (21) and Abdulsalam’s wife and their one year old daughter Iman. Imagine it was your sibling, your friend, your son, who should be in school or with his friends, who instead has to hide from bombs and ask for help online to save his family. His family have suffered through one year of genocide. All of you are their hope to get to safety.

This fundraiser is vetted by @gazavetters, number four on the spreadsheet here

Abdulsalams daughter Iman is only one year old and has lived most her life in a war zone. She is suffering from malnutrition. It’s every fathers worst nightmare to see their child starve and not be able to feed her. Please help him feed his daughter and get her to safety. No child should grow up hearing the sound of bombs. Every child has the right to food and safety. You can help give Iman the childhood she should have, where she can sleep in a safe bed at night with a full stomach.

Their father Ahmed has cancer and needs surgery and medication. It is not possible to get the treatment he needs in Gaza. every day his illness is left untreated, the cancer will continue to spread through his body, so he very urgently needs money for treatment and travel. If you help them get to their goal, you are saving their fathers life. Don’t let this family who have already lost so much lose their father, husband, and grandfather

Nader has showed me pictures of this explosion close to them, thankfully they were able to get away. Every day they stay in Gaza their lives are at risk from israeli bombs. Every day and hour counts. I know there are compassionate and kind people who are willing to help. every euro helps, YOUR donation will bring them one moment closer to safety. With love and hope I’m asking you to give what you can, I believe in the kind people of the world and I beg you to not let them die. If you can’t donate, please share so it may reach people who can.

Never forget that palestinians are not numbers on a list of deaths. Please think of each of them, think of their names and faces and know that you can help them. I think of them every day. I think of the hopes and dreams they should achieve, I think of their education, their future, and the love they show when they work hard every day to get help. You may feel powerless to stop this genocide, but you have the power to save Abdulsalam and his family. I dream that the day will come soon where they may use their days to rest and recover from what they’ve been through, where they can share a meal and laugh and the children will play, instead of having to use their time to beg the world to listen and help them. We can make this possible.

50 000 euros is a lot of money for one person to give, but for all of us together, it can be done. Please don’t look away.

(drawing above by @neechees)

Thank you for reading their story. Please don’t keep scrolling without sharing

here is the link again to their fundraiser

tagging for reach:

@90-ghost @heritageposts @gazavetters @neechees @butchniqabi @fluoresensitive @khanger @autisticmudkip @beserkerjewel @furiousfinnstan @xinakwans @batekush @appsa @nerdyqueerr @butchsunsetshimmer @biconicfinn @stopmotionguy @willgrahamscock @strangeauthor @bryoria @shesnake @legallybrunettedotcom @lautakwah @sovietunion @evillesbianvillain @antibioware @akajustmerry @dizzymoods @ree-duh @neptunerings @explosionshark @dlxxv-vetted-donations @vague-humanoid @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @sar-soor @northgazaupdates2 @feluka @dirhwangdaseul @jdon @ibtisams @sawasawako @memingursa @schoolhater @toesuckingoctober @waskuyecaozu

[reasonsforhope]

"Tim Friede’s YouTube channel is home to a collection of videos depicting the Wisconsin-native truck mechanic subjecting himself to purposeful snake bites, blood slowly dripping down his arms.

For the past 20 years, Friede has been one of the most notorious “unconventional” medical researchers, undergoing over 200 bites from the world’s deadliest snakes — and more than four times as many — 850 — venomous injections. 

He did it all in the name of science.

According to the World Health Organization, an estimated 100,000 people are killed by snake bites each year, with countless more being disabled by the venom of the deadly reptiles. 

While life-saving anti-venom is available, very few countries actually have the capacity to produce it properly, given that most bites occur in remote and rural areas, and anti-venom requires arduous sourcing and accuracy. 

But Friede’s blood is now full of antibodies, following decades of strategic exposure to the neurotoxins of mambas, cobras, and other lethal slithering critters.

His blood is now the source material researchers are using to develop an anti-venom capable of neutralizing a broad spectrum of snake bites...

Friede started this hobby — which he is indeed adamant no one else tries at home — out of sheer curiosity in childhood. After playing with harmless garter snakes in his youth, he began keeping more dangerous species of snakes as pets. At one point, he had 60 of them in his home basement.

In 1999, he began extracting venom from his snakes, drying it, diluting it, and injecting himself with tiny doses — keeping meticulous records as he went.

He had one major hospitalization in 2001, when he was paralyzed and in a coma for four days. But instead of giving up, he doubled down. 

“In hindsight, I’m glad it happened,” Friede told The Times. “I never made another mistake.”

Jacob Glanville, an immunologist and founder of biotech company Centivax, stumbled on Friede’s videos.

Now, Friede is the director of herpetology at Centivax and serves as something of a “human lab” to Glanville.

“For a period of nearly 18 years, [Tim] had undertaken hundreds of bites and self-immunizations with escalating doses from 16 species of very lethal snakes that would normally a kill a horse,” Glanville told The Guardian.

“It blew my mind. I contacted him because I thought if anyone in the world has these properly neutralizing antibodies, it’s him.”

To develop the new anti-venom, Glanville and his fellow researchers identified 19 of the world’s deadliest snakes — in the elapid family — which kill their prey by injecting neurotoxins into their bloodstream, paralyzing muscles (including the big, important ones, like the heart and lungs).

The trouble is, each species in the elapid family has a slightly different toxin, meaning they would each require their own anti-venom.

But Friede’s blood contains certain fragments of each of these toxins; protein molecules seen across the various species. Because of his decades of service to science, his blood also contains the antibodies required to neutralize these toxins, preventing them from sticking to human cells and causing harm.

Combining the antibodies LNX-D09, SNX-B03, and a small molecule called varespladib that inhibits venom toxins, Centivax has successfully created a treatment effective against the entire range of 19 species’ toxins.

Their work, which was recently published in the journal Cell, will soon be tested outside of the lab. 

Trials will start with using the serum to treat dogs admitted to Australian veterinary clinics for snake bites. Assuming that goes well, the next step will be to administer human tests.

Researchers also believe that because the serum stems from a human, this should also lower the risk of allergic reactions when being administered to other people. 

“The final product would be a single, pan-anti-venom cocktail,” Professor Peter Kwong of Columbia University, a senior author of the study, told The Times.

Or, he added, they could make two: “One that is for the elapids, and another that is for the viperids, because some areas of the world only have one or the other.”

As for Friede, he maintains his affinity for snakes, though his last bite was in November 2018, when he said “enough is enough,” according to The New York Times.

By then, he had certainly done enough. His pursuit of immunity could feasibly save countless lives.

“I’m really proud that I can do something in life for humanity,” Friede told The New York Times, “to make a difference for people that are 8,000 miles away, that I’m never going to meet, never going to talk to, never going to see, probably.”

-via GoodGoodGood, May 2, 2025