#anyway I didn’t see (any?) posts about Juneteenth

[rosicheeks]

🎉

[lilhawkeye3]

This Ohio discourse has got me dying to create discourse about every other state now hehe so I officially present:

Hawk’s review of 36/50 US states!

In alphabetical order because that fuckin song “50 nifty United States” has been stuck in my head since fourth grade.

Arizona: Phoenix is hot. Can’t believe y’all choose to live in a place that gets haboobs. Saw Sen. John McCain in the airport. I feel that sums up the state well. 4/10

California: as a resident of the state of Oregon, I’m legally required to say fuck California😌 unless anyone else talking shit about Cali and then we got your back😤 SoCal vs San Fran vs Northern Cal are totally different worlds though. 7/10

Colorado: damn idk how y’all breathe there, them air is thin. But really pretty out there! 7/10

Connecticut: oh my god fuck New Haven. And Stamford, and Hartford, and— Yknow what? Let’s just toss the whole state into the Sound. For real, traffic is the WORST here and I’m so sorry that y’all gotta live like that. 3/10

Delaware: I cannot believe this is considered a state. There’s no difference between Delaware and Maryland/Pennsylvania. 1/10 should not be a state

Florida: “the only hills in Florida are the highway ramps and the Matterhorn!” —the shuttle driver at Disney World. He was right. Shit is flat as fuck here. And hot. And humid. The Gulf Coast is nice? But tbh it’s just all very touristy which is kind of a bummer. 5/10

Georgia: ...I can’t with the humidity or thinly veiled racism. But y’all got nice peaches! Also Black Panther filmed there so thank you for blessing us with that. 6/10 for fruits

Hawaii: okay pineapple farms are cool. Tbh I just feel really bad for how much mainlander/tourist bs all the islanders put up with. Ik price of living is v high and keeps going up. That said I did love Hawaii... although I was stung by a jellyfish. Hate those little bastards. 8/10 for wonderful people and nature

Idaho: as an Oregonian I’m required to also say fuck Idaho 😝 you da hoes. Okay for real tho southern Idaho has become v white white and kinda scary tbh. The northern part of the state is pretty chill tho. Also Oreida kettle chips are partly made in Idaho so I gotta give you half credit for that. 4/10

Illinois: at least you’re not Indiana. 4/10.

Indiana: I never want to step foot in Gary, Indiana again in my life. (Passed a Mack truck hauling a race car to Indy 500 though so that was cool.) 2/10

Iowa: I almost moved here. I’m so glad I didn’t. Why are the Quad Cities actually a group of five towns? I hate that. Also the roads were all cement, felt like driving on a sidewalk. Was also interesting because the second we got out of the city proper, it was just... corn fields everywhere. 2/10 y’all raising children of the corn.

Kentucky: I really don’t have anything to say about Kentucky. I thought the trees were pretty? 5/10 yeah idk

Maine: my relative has totaled two cars by hitting moose in Maine. Maine scares me. Or rather, the moose do. Also the lobster roll hype is real. And the coast truly is beautiful. 8/10 but an extra point for the moose bc I hate that relative so 9/10

Maryland: oh god Baltimore. Also I’m blaming you for the DC traffic because it’s on the land you gifted them. 3/10

Massachusetts: Patriots fans are the worst NFL fans (the racism is real, especially after fans burned the jerseys of Black players who knelt for the anthem). Liking Dunkin’ Donuts is not a personality trait. The North End in Boston is truly the best place to get pizza in the entire country. Western Mass is not the same state. And the Cape Cod bridges give me nightmares. 5/10 but cause I had to pay taxes two years and it really is Taxachusetts, knocking it down to 4/10

Michigan: it’s a lot bigger than I initially thought. 5/10

Minnesota: it’s Canada but in the US. Pretty driving through the southern part. Cops suck tho. 5/10

Montana: okay Montana is downright gorgeous. (Except Billings. Sorry, Billings.) I must include a photo. I wanna get a cabin here and just exist. 8/10

New Hampshire: can’t decide if it hates Massachusetts or wants to be Massachusetts. All it knows is that it’s better than Vermont. Which... y’know, valid. (If you wanna see NH culture watch North Woods Law tbh). 4/10

New Jersey: why are there so many goddamn highways in this state? Also there are more places to weekend trip than the Shore or the Poconos. Although you do have people pump gas for you just like Oregon, so... that’s valid. Things my friends have added: Newark airport is cursed (valid), the jughandles are nightmares (true), pork roll/Taylor Ham is good and so are bagels and New Jersey pizza (allergic so idk), and everyone is split on whether the shore is actually decent or not 😂 I give it a 3.5/10 out of spite

New York: NYC is fun, Upstate is MASSIVE but really beautiful. Long Island is... yeah I don’t have anything nice to say about Long Island. 8/10 For NYC, 6/10 for Upstate, -2/10 for Long Island, gives us an average of 6/10

North Carolina: very good peaches. Isn’t South Carolina. Keep it up👍🏽 6/10

Ohio: I already told y’all how I feel about this flat ass boring state. I feel no need to slander it any more lmao. 3/10

Oregon: she flies with her own wings, mi amor🥰 to list all the reasons I like Oregon (and the issues too bc it ain’t perfect), I would need a whole other post. I’ll just leave you with this picture I took of Mt. Hood, the queen of our Cascades. 11/10

Pennsylvania: so apparently PN is three states hiding in a trench coat like NY. There’s upstate, philly and Pittsburg. Personally I think they’re just trying too hard and wanna get the same recognition as NY. Meh. 5/10

Rhode Island: THIS FUCKIN SHAM OF A STATE Just merge it with Connecticut and be done with it!! It’s tiny. Providence sucks. There’s nothing unique about this state that you can’t find in Southern Mass (except MA has cheaper taxes so y’all come to work and shop in MA anyways smh). Also the fingers are really annoying to drive down to get to some beach areas haha. 2/10 you’re barely better than Delaware.

South Carolina: my Black father was invited to a party celebrating General Robert E Lee’s birthday. So... 0/10

South Dakota: very gorgeous, didn’t realize the Missouri River went this far west, but VERY LARGE. I mean it looks big on a map but then you get there and... yeah. No speed limit on highways is a great time though. And the Badlands have mountain goats! 6/10 bc while pretty, living there seems really hard. (Picture is me in the Badlands).

Texas: gave us Juneteenth and Beyoncé and JJ Watts. Thank you Texas. But is very big, got independence from Mexico to keep slavery (yikes), is like 97% private land (yikes) and is like the second or third largest state. Very big. That said, everyone I’ve ever met from Texas is lovely. 6/10.

Utah: Other than Idaho, this is the whitest state I’ve been to. Or it feels that way. Like a, the people crossed to the other side of the street and held their bags because I’m brown, state. And I don’t ski so I can’t even say that’s a good thing (I fell off the ski lift the one time I went, long story). Yeah 0/10.

Vermont: wants to be New Hampshire or Canada and can’t decide which. So it’s just kinda there. Pretty hills though. 3/10

Virginia: let’s be real we all forget that Virginia exists west of Richmond. Nova is a beauracratic and traffic nightmare and half our neighbors had to pass security clearance checks. Hampton Roads and beach area is a tourist and mosquito nightmare. But there were dolphins and I made snowmen on the beach. Good times. 6.7/10

Washington: again, legally required as an Oregon resident to say fuck Washington because it’s all your fault we now are getting a toll on the I-5 border. But you’re better than California. And the Sound is really cool for fishing, love Wicked Tuna. And the fish market. Best salmon I’ve had. Eastern Washington... y’all got Spokane but the rest is kinda sparse. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 8/10

Wisconsin: cheese is actually good. Again, pretty state, much larger than I initially thought. 7/10

Wyoming: this was the ONLY STATE I lost cell service in when diriving cross country. Kinda surprised it wasn’t Montana, but no, it was Wyoming. Views are gorgeous though so I was distracted either way. 4/10

Thank you for joining me on this cross-country edition of Tea Time with Hawk. Please respond with any reactions, corrections, addendums about any and all of the states mentioned. And thank you for taking part in this wholesome Clone Wars fandom discourse with me 🥰💕

DISCLAIMER: THESE RATINGS ARE ALL A JOKE PLEASE DO NOT ACTUALLY GET MAD ABOUT IT

[stachmousworld]

Meeting the Personal Assistant

Well, well, I got sidetracked. Again. Sigh. After watching to many Karens and reading about Juneteenth, and the Code Noir, which is the French version of the Black Codes/ Jim Crow Laws, my blood boiled so much I almost burst an artery. I had to write instead and transcript my feelings.

Words: 5k...oh my god..

SUMMARY: Bucky runs an errand for Steve and has to bring a box to Tony’s office. Once arrived, he’ll meet two women, who’ll change his life. This meeting will bring more than he’d imagine. Between an impromptu boner and the recovery of his memories, Bucky is in for a ride.

TRIGGER WARNING: mention of lynchings in the past (in early 20th century), and a racist Karen using racial slurs left and right. So now, you may call me Tarantino.

Please be aware that the term “lynching” was not used lightly. In the early 20th century, it was pretty common to keep a “souvenir” aka a part of the victim of lynchings. They would send postcards, aka real photos of these poor souls hanging from trees and they would send it. Via Post…

**You are officially warned. **

Also, I invite each and single one of you to listen to Bessie Smith. She was the most well-known singer in the 20’s and was nicknamed the Impress of Blues. My fav’ songs are: Devil’s gonna get you, Baby won’t you come Home and Send me to the ‘Lectric chair.

And read more about Forsyth County, here: https://www.npr.org/2016/09/15/494063372/the-racial-cleansing-that-drove-1-100-black-residents-out-of-forsyth-county-ga?t=1592961537890

Part 2 

 « Do I look like a dog, Stevie? » Bucky groaned for the umpteenth time.

Steve, aka Captain America, was serving him his best puppy eyes and it was working. Who’d know that after all these years those baby blues could weaken him. Bucky rolled his eyes, enjoying his last moment of peace and held out his hand. Steve sighed in relief and smiled wholeheartedly. Bucky snatched the box from him and spun around. If he’d stay one more second, he’d break and start smiling. The corner of his lips was already lifting, without his consent. He forced himself to look grimier than usual. No one would question him nor try to talk to him. Not that they did anyway. He warily checked for any cameras and strutted out of the room, confident that his struggle wouldn’t have been recorded.

« Thanks again, Buck’, » Steve yelled behind him.

Bucky didn’t even have in him to flip him off. He shrugged and growled to no one in particular. “I’m not a dog,” he whispered, pouting.

That was it. He hated the crowd. He hated the goddam Stark Tower and he hated the tourists glued in front of it, taking pictures as if this phallic building was something incredible.

He almost barked at a poor woman who asked him to take a photo of her in front of it. He almost threw her phone on the floor. He sent her a nasty look and entered the building. Next time he’d see Steve, he’d punch him in his “innocent” face, so no one would be subject to his “candid” blue eyes. But…he’d looked so disappointed in him. Bucky sighed, dramatically, making a few people look at him with concern.

What was worse? The candid eyes or the disappointed ones?

He waved at the security guards, who let him in with no problem. They just had to look at his vibranium arm to know his identity. He strode past the line of people waiting for the elevator and stood in front of the doors. The complains from the others started immediately. He tilted his head on the side, flexing his uncovered metal arm. The sound of the vibranium plates setting in place and rearranging under the pressure, made them all take a step backward.

Good. 

He couldn’t help it. Making people nervous was a residual from his time in Hydra. He had tried to overcome this need to instill fear. Steve had been disappointed. Again. And Bucky had buried deep enough his tendencies. But in a crowd full of stuck-up people, it was too easy to make them squirm a little. It was nothing but a life check.

And he was after all a vet, and a POW, he deserved some respect. They should have parted when they saw him. He may look younger and stronger, but he was older than all of them. So yeah, just because he was now enhanced, through torture, doesn’t mean he couldn’t benefit from his unused privilege. Everyone loved to cuddle Steve and pity him, but not Bucky. No. Nothing was ever funny for Bucky.

He bared his teeth at one particularly stubborn woman. She raised an eyebrow, flipped her hair, but didn’t move. He narrowed slightly his eyes and stood tall. Back off, or I’ll bite, he snarked internally. Wait! No. I’m not a dog, I won’t bark. He shook his head losing his stiff position.

Unaware that the doors of the elevator were already open the woman went in. Bucky followed suit, mumbling about the new generation and the lack of manner.

Really, it was not a good day.

The ride to the top of the Tower went smoothly, except for the nasty glances the other lady and he exchanged. He hoped with such a fervor that she’d leave soon, but no. They got off the elevator on the same floor. Tony’s. Bucky bowed with a sarcastic smile, arm stretched toward the opened doors. She huffed and left, bumping his metal hand.

If all those years being a soldier and a POW had taught him something, it was attack first and deadly. He unconsciously reached for his knife, almost dropping the box he held.

“It’s him, there. I want him out.” The lady barked in front of another young woman. “What kind of institution is that?”

Bucky strolled toward them. He toyed with his small knife, before putting it back into his pocket. He should have made her trip before getting out the elevator. Just a little fall never hurt nobody.

The scene played in his mind, leaving him deeply amused and satisfied.

“Madam, with all due respect, you have to calm down. I will do as much as I can.” The young black woman said in a soothing voice. “But, Mister Barnes, here, is what you may call a V.I.P.”

The other lady’s face grew red, her cheeks burning with either shame or rage. Bucky was almost afraid she’d burst a vein.

“I…I…” She took a deep breath. “This is inadmissible! I want to see Tony, Right Now!” She shrieked.

The young lady tilted her head, unfazed. She glanced at Bucky, then his box. An imperceptible smile appeared briefly on her face. His fidgeted under her whiskey eyes, feeling underdressed in front of this gorgeous woman. She pointed a comfy chair next to what was her desk. He nodded. The smile he gave in return felt more like a grimace, but she didn’t seem faze by it. If contrary, she chuckled, then cough in her hands to hide it.

Bucky shook his head and walked past them. The other annoying woman spluttered, before being interrupted:

“Madam, I’m sorry. But Mister Stark is not here. Do you have a meeting planned?”

The other woman backed away, shocked.

“Did you hear what I said, or are you deaf? I. Want. To. see. Mister. Stark.”

The young woman walked away and sat at her desk, still keeping a professional façade. Bucky was impressed and compassionate. At least as the Winter Soldier and a soldier in general, he never had to respect people who disrespected him.

“And I want a few millions and a rich husband.” She replied, the sarcasm laying on the thick in her deep voice. She bent under her desk to retrieve some files. Before then, she took the opportunity to take the box from Bucky’s hands and placed it in her drawer.

Bucky’s eyes didn’t miss the way her cleavage was clearly showing her bra, red (such a gorgeous color on her dark skin) and more importantly what they were supporting. Her breasts looked…mouthwatering. He only saw the top of them but could only imagine their softness, the shape of her areolas, the taste of her sweaty skin in her mouth, the way her nipples would harden after a particular bite. Bucky felt an unfamiliar tension in his lower region. He dazedly gazed down barely believing what he was experiencing.

He was hard!

He had an erection!

He stopped himself from patting his bulge and enjoyed the discomfort, the pressure on his sensitive member. It was…different. A different kind of pain than he was used to. The one, if his memories were correct that would leave him spent and boneless. He slumped back, head back, inhaling deeply. He felt lighter…good.

“I’m not broken, he whispered to himself.” A few tears trickled in his eyes and for one moment he wanted to let them fall but chose otherwise. He didn’t want to scare the personal assistant.

Unaware of his environment, he let the pleasure/pain combo flood through his system, whilst her intoxicating scent got him high. She smelt like monoi oil, maybe vanilla or cinnamon. She weirdly reminded him of “…fresh brioche out of the oven.”

“So, --" She started, before spinning around on her chair, looking quite confused.

Bucky blushed, mortified. He opened his mouth to apologize than closed it. What could he even say to explain that?

“What?” She asked, amused.

“Nothing?” He asked, unsure. Why was she so relaxed about it? He’d heard in his obligatory seminary on “women/men relationships as colleagues”, that compliments could be taken as harassment. So better not say anything. Unless you were close to the person concerned. Which he wasn’t.

“You said something about a brioche.”

“You heard that?” He asked, suddenly scared. He would not be able to survive another seminar. Not another weekend in some shithole place where they’d talk about their experience and their lack of decorum.

He would not go there.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you, you know?”

No. He didn’t. Bucky didn’t even know her name. He looked at her warily.

“So?” She pressed him, taking her attention off the other woman for a split second.

“You look like a…” He trailed off, his cheeks warming up again.

Her eyes widen as the realization set in. There was a short moment of stillness and then a rough laugh erupted from her mouth. She tossed her head back, body trembling under her laugh. Bucky threw a nasty glance at the other woman near the table, for good measure, before drinking in the heavenly body on his right.

The thin column of her neck was vibrating as air traveled through it, revealing more skin to Bucky hungry eyes. He had to use all of his experience to repress his envy to kiss and bite the exposed skin, descending through her collarbone and the apex of her breast, nuzzling his nose inbetween the God blessed globes. The rest was left to his imagination and expertise in examining people’s body to find their weaknesses. He came to the conclusion that her body was strong.

From her muscled calves, making his gums itch for a good bite, to her strong looking legs, supported by large hips and adorned with two…God. Two round and jiggly butt cheeks. It was a chance she hadn’t led him to the desk otherwise his problem would have been more noticeable.

But there came his favorite part. A little higher, there, in full display, her little round stomach, trembling and contracting under her laugh. He imagined himself caressing it, massaging it, grabbing, kissing, licking…

God, he was so going to this harassment seminary, he groaned internally. Again. Steve would never let that go. But maybe he’d forget about it when Bucky would tell him about his, still going, erection.

The other woman slapped the table hard enough to make her jump and surprise Bucky. His hands went straight to his holster, barely remembering that she was a civilian. Having a work ethic was definitely something he’d never get used to. But he’ll bask in Steve’s compliments after he’ll tell him about his day. Yeah, that’ll be the highlight of his day and a great reward. There was, after all, nothing better than Captain America’s compliments. Best friend or not.

“I want to talk to your superior, right now,” she yelled at them.

The angel next to him stopped laughing. Her joyful smile became shark-like. She stood up straight, head held high.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, or, where you think you are, but we are certainly not in one of your Macy or Sephora. You can’t and won’t get whatever you want by calling the manager. Now, whether you get your ass out of here.” She leaned forward, hands balled into fists pressed on the table, dominating the other one. “Or I’ll call the security.”

The evil lady, lips tight, turned around, flipping her hair while walking to the elevator.

“I’ll make sure to tell Tony about you. Letting people like you …” She spat. “…into this pristine place. Really they should have sent you to your country.”

The doors opened, before they could react. Tony and Pepper stopped talking, their steps faltered as soon as they noticed all of them. Bucky felt fury run through his veins. That was it. Fuck Steve and morality, he’ll cut her up. He was sure Tony could help him hide somewhere outside the country. On that thought, he slowly stood up.

“Is everything ok?” Tony asked slowly, staring at the woman in front of him. Bucky finally noticed how he looked at her. Warily. Maybe a hint of suspicion and anger? Did they know each other?

“Tony? We have to talk.”

“Sunset…I didn’t know we had a meeting?” He asked, peering at his personal assistant.

“You didn’t, Mister Stark,” She replied subdued, fumbling through her papers, head down.

It was a contrast Bucky didn’t like. Seeing her so down didn’t go well with him. He reached for her shoulder, hand hovering. Fuck it. If I’m going to this seminary, I’ll give them a good reason to send me. He barely touched her shoulder that she leaned his touch. Bucky released his breath and tightened his grip. I’m here. Everything is okay, he wanted to convey.

“See, Sunset. We didn’t have a meeting and you know it,” Tony said, visibly annoyed. He was twisting his watch around his wrist.

“I'm sure I had called, and your stupid assistant didn't take the message,” Sunset sneered.

Bucky’s resolve was melting like ice on a torrid night. His fingers twitched around the handle of his knife. Jail time sounded like a vacation from all this bullshit. At least no one would disturb him there, he reasoned. No one. Not even Steve and his morning, to understand asscrack of dawn, marathon.

He let go of her shoulder, straightened his back ready to commit murder…

“Oh,” the personal assistant said. She was holding a piece of paper, where was written a date and a name. Sunset Bain.

“What is it?” Pepper asked, irritated.

She raised the hand holding the paper.

“There was actually a meeting planned, Miss Potts,” she admitted defeated. Pepper raised her eyes to the sky and sent her a tight smile. Tony looked somewhat disappointed. And Bucky? Well, he hated this world. The one where rich people faked everything and thought they were intitled to respect while being assholes. No matter what happened, this Sunset had been aggressive, not cutting either of them some slack. He looked down at the personal assistant. Her posture was still rigid, and nothing filtered past her poker face.

He grasped one of her hands, freeing the piece of paper from her trembling fingers. He pressed his palm against hers and let his heartbeat calm hers.

“I told you so and she didn’t want to believe me.” Sunset pointed her finger at her. “You people should be happy to be able to work in high paid jobs. And then you will complain about racism. What a shame…”

“Sunset, that’s enough.” Tony replied coldly, his hands balled into tight fists. “You have no right to come to MY office and degrade MY assistant over some mistake. As for our meeting, consider it over!” He spat, coldly.

Sunset only chuckled, shaking her long wavy hair.

“Your dad would have had a fit if a nigger had made this type of mistakes. Truly, you are weak.”

Before Bucky could react, the personal assistant yanked off her hand from his, and ran to the stairs. Tony and Pepper tried to stop her but couldn’t. Even though she was wearing high heels, that Bucky was a trained soldier and Tony a trained tin-can, she still succeeded her quick flee. With a silent agreement Tony took off after her leaving all three of them. The silent was broken by Sunset. Her chuckle had grown into a full body laugh.

Bucky silently walked toward them, barely registering Pepper.

“You understand what I mean. After all, women like us worked hard to be there and to…”

Pepper raised her hand and slapped her on the face. Sunset stumbled and met Bucky's broad chest. He clicked his tongue.

“You have five minutes to get away, or…” He leaned forward, next to her right ear. “You are going to meet the Winter Soldier,” he drawled.

Sunset tried to push him away but only managed to lose her balance.

“Y-you! a Negroe lover!” She spat, her eyes bulging out of their sockets. Her face turned an ugly shade of purple. “Weren’t you from the 30’s? Haven’t you seen what they did to our country since we freed them?” She raged, spitting at his feet.

The words felt like a stab. Negroe lover? The term resonated in him. A sharp pain speared through his skull. The first time he heard that expression, it came out of his dad’s mouth. His friends were with him and they were discussing some news on a Black singer…Bessie Smith, his mind provided. A vague image of a curvy woman, with short slicked hair appeared in his mind. Her voice has haunted him even through the war, he now remembered. It was the last thing he remembered when he fell from the train and the first thing he heard before Zola tortured him.

Bucky clenched his fists, enough to register the pain. He needed to stay grounded. He needed to come back to the present.

He suddenly reeled back under the flow of memories rushing through his mind.

Memories he hadn’t thought of.

Memories he didn’t want to focus on right now.

_“I tol’ ya these people were disgutin’ perver’s. No betta than animals!” His dad snarled throwing the newspaper to his friends. Each of them grimaced in disgust, making sure to comment, before passing the magazine. It didn’t take long until Bucky had it in his hands. For his dad, he was old enough, to stay with the adults, but he wasn’t to speak up before being spoken to. _

He grimaced in pain as a large arm fell onto his shoulder. He didn’t have to look up to know that the alcoholic breath, the bushy arm and the sweaty armpit belonged to Carl. His dad’s favorite friend and Bucky’s godfather.

He barely had a glance at the picture on the newspaper, that Carl spoke up:

“Y’kno’ er, boy?” He slurred, pointing at Bessie Smith. Bucky was tempted to say the truth, but a quick glance to the rest of room was enough for him to lie. He shook his head.

“Hm?” Carl clenched his hand around Bucky’s biceps and tightened his grip.

“No, Sir.” He replied quickly. Carl took his hand away, arm still slung around the frail frame of Bucky.

“This nigger is a singer. One of the best, they say, better than all of our women,” He sneered, raising his other hand in the air. Hair which held a full glass of whiskey. Bucky closed his eyes as the amber liquid spilled onto him, he wiped it gingerly. Carl’s gruff laugh erupted in the room, startling him.

“C’mon Boy, are ya a gurl? It’s jus’ a little drin’” He laughed, dragging him with him as he leaned dangerously on the couch. Bucky looked up to his father and swallowed. His grey eyes were now dark and his knuckles around his glass were white. Bucky feared the glass would break under the pressure. He barely got out of the last beating. He didn’t want to get one so soon.

“And you saw the rest of the article? She’s been perverting our women also…” His dad said, eyes still on Bucky, who nodded as if he understood the reference and was disgusted by it. What did he mean by “perverting our woman”?

“What could you expect from a nigger?” Another one asked.

_“Pastor Johnson told us ‘bout their…ha-ha-habits. They are de-devious, evil creature, the lot of ‘em. They…” A sneeze. “They’ll persuade ya to…to…” He trailed off, voice turning into a murmur. “They’ll promise ya love and heaven…” The rest of the room grew silent. The other men stared dumbly at him. Bucky’s brain was running in circle, trying to find the name of the man. Was it Dunker? No. Dunkan! _

_Dunkan’s posture screamed defeat. His body was coiled on itself, shoulders down, head down. Bucky couldn’t see his face because of the fringe of hair covering it, but he noticed one curious thing. Dunkan had been massaged his ring finger, since Bucky’s dad started talking about Miss Smith. The skin of the third knuckle looked sunk compared to the rest of his fingers. Bucky narrowed his eyes, trying not to be too obvious. It looked like Dunkan had a ring. _

Oh. Bucky leaned back on the couch feeling empathy for him. Maybe he had divorce with his wife. Yeah, that’s why he looked so broken, Bucky thought, letting the wave of compassion riding his heart. Poor man…

“They’ll take everything…everything an’ then…they’ll leave you just as fast.” Dunkan sprung to his feet and made a quick retreat. He waved at the rest of the room and left the apartment.

What had just happened? What…Dunkan said…did he have a relationship with a colored person? Bucky tried to think, but his brain was stuck on Dunkan’s words. His body barely registered when Carl moved away from him.

“Fuckin’ nigger lover,” his dad finally spat.

_Then, the room broke in an uproar. Bucky sat still, eyes wide, fear paralyzing each of his limb. He tried to appear smaller, to be forgotten, but his dad’s eyes were not leaving him. _

 Bucky came back to reality, in a heave. He blinked a few times and unclenched his hands. He staggered and turned around hiding his face in his hands. Deep breath in Buck’, breath in…

His lungs ached in a way it hadn’t done before. And shouldn’t. The super serum had eradicated all of the “imperfections” of the human body. And yet, here he was.

“Bucky, can you come with me in my office?”

He jerked away in surprise, his left hand clenching his chest. Tony came to a halt besides him. Despite his calm voice, his face was tensed, gone was his smile and warm eyes. Everything screamed murder.

Bucky nodded dumbly and started moving. Negroe lover? Two familiar faces appeared in front of his face.

A gorgeous black woman next to a lanky brunette man. Dunkan. They both looked joyful.

Bucky blinked. Another image came.

A black and white picture of two black people hanged from a tree.

Bucky swallowed with difficulty. Sadness drowned his heart and an unexplainable sorrow broke all of his barriers. Tears trickled in his eyes. He took a shaky breath and blinked, setting them free.

_“James? What are you doing here?” Dunkan asked, surprised. He peeked outside before closing his door. “Does your dad know that you are here?” _

Bucky stayed silent. Dunkan sighed.

“Of course, he doesn’t. Of course...” he grumbled.

_He led Bucky to his couch and went to his kitchen. Bucky looked around trying to take in all of the details. Dunkan’s house felt…he furrowed his brows, looking for the correct word…empty. The last time he came here, the atmosphere felt homey, but not now. _

As he was looking at radio, something caught his attention. There was a box, next to the door which looked out of place. The brown of the box turned red on the bottom. It looked wet. The floor underneath also seemed darker. Bucky counted to ten, like his Ma’ told him to when he wanted to do something, he would probably regret.

After the last number, he jumped to his feet and quickly made his way to the box, still aware of the noises in the kitchen. Bucky took a deep breath, steadying his feet and leaned forward. He opened the box slowly and peeked inside.

“James, do you like…?”

Bucky screeched and made a run to the door. He fumbled with the locker, trying in vain to escape the apartment. There was…there was…a bloody hand…in the box…

He screamed and kicked when Dunkan’s held him in his arms. Screaming with the full capacity of his lungs to let him go. He kicked and hit where he could reach, which was mostly air. Dunkan didn’t budge one.

It took Bucky a few minutes to admit his defeat. His body betrayed him and he literally sagged against Dunkan.

“James, breath in and out. You can do it.”

A part of him wanted to rebel and try again but his body wouldn’t. He’s going to kill me and cut me and put me in the box and…and…and…Bucky started to hyperventilate.

“Calm down, James. It’s okay. You are safe.”

He shook his head. Dunkan chuckled.

“Yes, you are. If you calm down, I’ll explain to you. I promise, it’s not what you think.”

_Bucky wanted to scream at him to let him got, that he’d never tell anyone. He just wanted his mom. Bucky closed his eyes, repressing his tears. Lost in his head, he didn’t move when Dunkan let him go. He glanced at the doorknob. His entire vision was tunneled. Just a few steps and he’d be free. _

_Dunkan sighed. “You can go if you want. I’m sorry…You’re just a kid. I should...I should…” Dunkan burst in tears. He stood up, wobbling to the box, and fell to his knees. He peered inside and howl in despair. Bucky stood still, paralyzed by the ugly sounds coming out of Dunkan. It reminded Bucky of the time he had found a baby dog outside the building they live. He had brought him back home, happy to show his mom his new friend. But his mom was already at work and it’s his dad he found instead. Bucky clenched his hands into tight fists. His sniffed a few times. The sound the poor puppy made when his dad… _

_“I’m so sorry, Ruth!” Dunkan wailed. A loud crash, Bucky spun around moving nearer to the door. Dunkan was hugging and kissing the feminine fingers. A ring shone on the fourth one. _

Everything in him wanted to run away.

Everything in him screamed to go.

Instead, he stayed.

“Who is Ruth, Mister Johnson,” Bucky asked, in a small voice. He didn’t think Dunkan heard him. Bucky wasn’t sure to be able to ask again. He was ready to go. To hell his curiosity.

“She was my wife.” Dunkan whispered, sobbing quietly. Bucky didn’t understand. His ma’ had told him that a white person and a colored one couldn’t get married so, how? “We ran away from Georgia because of lynchings.” He laughed, humorlessly. “Guess, you can never outrun your future.”

_“Your wife?” _

Dunkan’s head snapped toward his direction. Bucky grabbed the doorknob, ready to flee.

“I thought a white person and a colored person couldn’t get married, Sir.” He explained calmly. He was proud of his tone. It wasn’t wavering nor too weak. And most importantly it didn’t reveal his terror.

“A white person?” Dunkan asked, slowly, before laughing. “Me? A white person?” His laugh lasted a couple of minutes. Enough for terrorizing Bucky. He’s gone mad. Bucky twisted the doorknob.

“Do you really think I’m white?”

“You…look like it.”

Duncan nodded slowly, pensive.

“My mom was black and my dad white. My brothers and sisters looked more “colored” than me.” He looked down to the hand. The difference of colors was striking. Dunkan was so pale. How was it possible?

“My parents used to think it’d helped me. I’d fit better in this society, I’d have no problem…until I met Ruthie. She was…” He took a deep breath. “She was the best thing in my life. For a fella like me, a dame like her was…unbelievable. We got married in Forsyth County. We were already targeted because of my mom’s skin color, but my marriage set the entire city against us. My mom and dad…” Dunkan shrunk on himself. “They got murdered. Our house burned to the ground. The cross in front was still burning in the morning after. So we both, ran away…My brother and sisters went to the East, better for them, you know? Haven’t seen them for years.” He ended, softly.

Dunkan caressed the hand, gently.

“A few weeks ago, she received a missive from her mom. Something urgent about her health…All along I had this feeling in my guts that something bad would happen. I tried to make her stay, but it was her mom.” Dunkan explained detached. His eyes were now closed. “I received that and a postcard from the white side of my family. They…they…”

He broke down sobbing. “Ruth…her mom…lynched.”

“Bucky?”

“Bucky?”

“BUCKY?”

He stumbled backward, tripping over something on the floor and let himself fall. His back bounced in a loud thump. He blinked a few times trying to make sense of what he saw. It was the first time a memory came back this strong. Normally he’d have nightmares. He didn’t know which one he liked better. Either he couldn’t wake up on his own and were their prisoner.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the hard floor under body. This is real. I’m here. I’m breathing. My name is James Bucchanan Barnes and we are on the 21st of May 2018. Everything is okay.

“…happened?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Tony replied, panicked. “Sunset was there, and she said some racial slurs and it sent Bucky into shock.”

“Racial slurs?” A deeper voice asked, concerned.

Was that Steve?

“Yes, why?”

“Hm. I’ll tell you later, but if I’m right. Bucky will need our help.”

“Steve, you’re scaring me. What is…”

Bucky blinked slowly his eyes, the world turning faster beneath him. As he finally gave in and drifted away, a voice sang to him:

Judge, you wanna hear my plea

Before you open up your court

_But I don’t want no sympathy, ‘Cause I done cut my good man’s throat _

I caught him with a trifling Jane

I warned him ‘bout before

_I had my knife and went insane _

_And the rest you ought to know _

Judge, Judge, please, Mr Judge

_ Send me to the ‘lectric chair_

_Judge, Judge, good Mr Judge _

send me to the ‘lectric chair…

Part 2