#but everything else has been personal stuff for my muses

[ayahimes]

a collection of some things i've made

[em1i2a3]

My Desire

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader(Ex-HYDRA)

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI!, Mentions of Past Violence/Blood, Mentions of Stabbing (the reader has a scar from an incident involving Bucky/The Winter Soldier), Swearing, PTSD, Bucky kind of goes through some guilt in this, Enemies to Lovers, Fake Relationship Trope, BDSM Club Mission, Unintended Voyeurism, Mentions/References to Exhibitionism, Smut; fingering, oral sex (fem! Receiving), spitting, some nipple play, handjob, a bit of a praise kink if you squint, a little bit of a pain kink if you squint, P in V sex (unprotected, you know the drill though…Wrap it before going heels to Jesus), Shower Sex . Beefy Bucky is the current squeeeeeeeze if y’all know what I mean.

Author's Note: Wheew, I decided to take the trope of Enemies to Lovers and Fake Relationships to the next level. Ah, I love tropes, especially when you can throw everything and the kitchen sink at it. I did change some contextual stuff up a little bit just to suit the needs of the story. Hope y’all enjoy :) Sorry it took so long to get a new piece out btw, I’ve been studying for a licensing thing and that’s been literally consuming my time!

Word Count: 23,866

Next Part: Girls Like You

The air in the debriefing room was thick and suffocating when you walked in that morning. The night before you had received an urgent call from Maria Hill asking if you could attend a meeting for the next day, you were caught off guard by the request, but you were also curious as to what she was going to assign you, so you had taken the opportunity and agreed.

Maria stood at the front of the room, face flat, unreadable. You could sense there was someone else in the room, noticing one of the chairs was turned away from you, but out of the corner of your eye you could see the slight shine of the all-too-familiar metal arm, only now it was black, shiny, a new model. Your stomach dropped almost in an instant, a deep-seated regret immediately hitting you in the face. The chair turned, and you were met with the cold, desolate blue eyes, and scowl that you had seen on CCTV and up close. He was the shell of someone you once thought you knew.

Bucky Barnes.

He leaned back in his seat with his broad arms crossed over his chest, looking almost as irritated as you. He looked like he had gained a lot more muscle since the last time you saw him, and it was evident just by the way his biceps strained against the fabric of his t-shirt, and how he shifted uncomfortably in the chair he was in, his thighs spreading slightly to try and find a position he felt good in. He had trimmed his hair, it was not instantly noticeable, but when you replayed your last interaction in your head daily, it was easy to recognize the changes he physically made to himself.

“Just the person I wanted to see at 8 am.” He muttered, the words edging with sarcasm, casting a pointed look at Maria. You let out a slow, exaggerated exhale.

”Can’t believe you’re still fucking breathing.” You commented, watching him glance over his shoulder, tilting his head.

”Disappointed?” He asked mockingly.

”Absolutely devastated.” Bucky huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

”Yeah, guess we can’t all get what we want.” Your fingers twitched at your sides.

”Oh, I don’t know,” You mused, “Last time I checked, you got exactly what you wanted. A knife through my fucking chest, if I’m remembering correctly of course.” He groaned.

”Can’t believe you’re still going on about that. It’s been two years, sweetheart. Get over it.” You could feel your blood curdling beneath your skin, as you balled your hands into tight fists.

”Get over it? I was hospitalized for almost seven months.” He spun around on his chair to face you, one eyebrow raised.

”And? You’re still here are you not? You scoffed at him.

“Yeah, walking proof that you failed your fucking mission.” `He rolled his eyes.

”Not like I didn’t try to finish the job, remember?” Your jaw clenched at his comment, a phantom pain itching in the middle of your chest, radiating down to the center of your sternum, the exact spot his knife had pierced through, where he had twisted.

“Oh, I remember. Evidently, you do too. You must get off to it.” You spat back, watching as Bucky’s smirk vanished from his face. You could’ve sworn you heard the metal of his hand squeaking when he balled it up in a fist. You should’ve stopped there, but you couldn’t let this one go.

”You must really love replaying it,” You sneered, “The way I was pinned under you, screaming at you to let me go, the begging, and the way you took such fucking pleasure in driving that knife in slow-.” Bucky moved so fast you barely saw it coming. He was in your space in a split second, towering over you, his eyes burning holes through yours.

”You going to keep talking?” His voice was low and threatening, his eyes studying you, looking at the way you didn’t back down and recoil. He could see the fire in your eyes, the rage shaking behind them.

“Oh? Did I hit a nerve?” You said, feigning shock, poking the bear even more, watching his jaw clench.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.” He growled, stepping closer, his hot breath now fanning over your face, once again you didn’t move back.

“You may have everyone else fooled with your ‘I was brainwashed by HYDRA, I had no control’ schtick, but you and I both know that’s just bullshit.” Bucky’s metal hand immediately launched out at you, grabbing onto the collar of your shirt, yet you remained still, your breath hitching in your throat. Maria jumped into action quickly, making her way over to the scene.

“HEY!” She yelled, putting herself between the both of you, one hand pressing against Bucky’s chest, while the other pushed against your shoulder, attempting to separate the impending fight before it started. Neither of you broke eye contact, as Maria continued to try to make additional space, “Let go of her Bucky.” She commanded, he didn’t flinch, his grip only tightened more, his ice-cold gaze staring at you.

“You want to start something?” Maria added, “Because I promise you, you will not like how it fucking ends. Now let. Go.” She demanded through clenched teeth. There is a beat of silence that comes up between the three of you, as he slowly unclenches his hand, releasing your shirt from his grasp. You shake yourself out a bit, adjusting your top which had now been stretched from how hard he pulled you, the neckline now hanging loosely on your chest. Maria spun around on her heel, looking at you.

“Do you have a fucking death wish?” She snapped.

“You’re the one that brought him here, what did you expect me to do? Give him a warm welcome?” She let out a frustrated sigh.

“No. I expect you to act like a professional.” She replied, taking a step closer, “But instead you’re playing chicken with someone who can snap your neck like a twig if he wanted to.” You felt your jaw clench at her words, seething at the tone she was taking.

“And what about him?! He’s the one that got physical first.” She shook her head.

“Yeah because you baited him for a reaction.” She shot back, “We have invested a lot of time and effort undoing what HYDRA did to him. But you can’t be surprised when he has a very human reaction when reminded of the things he’s done in the past.” You could practically feel your blood boiling at this point, hearing the condescending tone she was taking.

“Sure. Let’s just keep making excuses for poor little Bucky who’s trying to figure out how to be a person again.” He stiffened at your words, it wasn’t obvious, but you could see the slight shift.

“Well. At least HYDRA made me useful for something. What’s your excuse?” The second the words left his mouth you saw red.

“Okay. That’s enough!” Maria yelled before you could say anything back, before you could retaliate. Bucky watched you carefully, knowing he won that round. Maria dragged a hand down her face, already exhausted from this encounter, realizing it was only going to get worse once she gave a debrief on the mission she needed to assign them.

“Can we all just please…Sit the fuck down now so we can get on with this meeting?” She asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. You squinted at Bucky, seeing a smirk come up on his face, as he turned around and returned to his seat, the chair creaking under his weight. You huffed, biting into your cheek while you walked to the other side of the conference table, taking a seat opposite of him, avoiding his eyes which were now watching you.

“Alright…” Maria sighed, grabbing two manilla folders from the front cart near the television, sliding one toward you, and the other toward Bucky. You flipped open the file without hesitation, scanning the contents inside, glancing across from you to see that Bucky mirrored your actions, though you could sense he was not paying attention fully.

Timothy Orkolov was the target's name, aged 48, nationality Russian, known aliases; ‘Red Fang’. A high-resolution CCTV image of him was stapled to the corner of the first page. He was midstride, dressed in a long, navy blue, double-breasted overcoat, and black dress pants, with sunglasses pushed against his face, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His salt and pepper beard was trimmed with precision, and his dark brown hair was slicked back and shiny. He looked like a businessman, that was for sure.

"Orkolov has been on our radar for over two years," Maria began, tapping her fingers against the table, her gaze flickering from you to Bucky, "He isn’t just an arms dealer, he’s a facilitator. A broker of power. He’s connected to corrupt officials, private militias, and underground trade networks spanning across Europe. He doesn’t just sell weapons, he sells wars." You glance up at Bucky, watching his jaw tighten slightly at Maria's brief description.

“Great…So he’s a criminal. Why haven’t you guys sent out agents from your team, why do you need us?” You ask, pushing the file away and sitting back in your chair.

“Because we have already sent in our regular agents. Three times actually. They all ended up dead. Does that answer your question?” You glance over at Bucky, who is still flipping through the file, ignoring the conversation.

“So instead of sending one of your own, you decided it was a good idea to throw us at the problem instead? What are we? Expendables?”You questioned, Maria tapped her fingers against the table, feeling an argument beginning.

“No. You’re necessary. We were able to get both of you on his guest list at his club ‘The Velvet Fang’. That’s one step further than the other times we’ve attempted to get someone in.” There is a hint of familiarity that flashes in Bucky’s eyes, as he pushes the file away as well, you can see behind his stoic expression that the cogs in his head are turning.

“Did you use our real names?” He asked, his voice stern, almost like he knew the answer already.

“Yes…Yes, we gave them your real names.” Maria responded quietly, knowing that she had made a mistake. Bucky scoffs.

“No wonder we got on the list…” He ran his hand over his face, glancing over at you, seeing the confusion in your eyes.

“We needed to establish credibility,” Maria said, her voice choking up, a little on edge, not knowing what Bucky was going to do next.

“You needed credibility,” He repeated, the sharp tone of rage boiling beneath his words, “So you decided to hand our names to him on a silver platter? How could you think that was a good idea?” He questioned.

“We had no other ch-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Maria!” He snapped, turning his anger towards you now, “And how could you not be freaking out about this?!” You looked at him now, shrugging.

“Hey, it’s not a life-or-death situation for me. Unlike you, my name isn’t attached to war crimes, assassinations, and a century-long kill list.” He breathed in slowly, trying to compose himself, attempting to lower his anger.

“Just because you couldn’t stomach your orders and defected from HYDRA doesn’t mean anything. How do you think I tracked you down?” He shot back.

“That has no connection to this. Orkolov wouldn’t want anything to do with me because I’m not a fucking animal, an ex-HYDRA member with no hits is not a hot commodity for people like him.” Bucky sat back, his hands rubbing along his pants.

“Being a passive participant doesn’t stop an arms dealer from using you. It’ll be very easy to get you back into your old programming.” Maria looked over at you, watching as you dug your nails into your palm, your jaw clenching at his words.

“There is no old programming to go back to,” You bit out, “I never completed their training and I didn’t get the chair to try to erase who I was either, so you can stop fucking speaking.” You snapped.

“Okay guys, please…Before I start bleeding out of my ears, can we just get this meeting done?” Maria begged, with exhaustion lacing her voice, digging her fingers into her temples, massaging them slowly, “There’s one more thing I need to tell you.” You leaned on the table, letting out a humourless laugh.

“How much worse could it possibly get? Please. Enlighten us.” Bucky looked over at you out of the corner of his eye, then brought his gaze back to Maria’s, watching her shift nervously.

“You guys are going as a couple.” Silence. Dead, thick, suffocating silence. That’s all that hung in the room for the next couple of minutes. “It’s all in the file.” She added, looking down at her hands. The both of you immediately pulled your folders back to each other and flipped to the very last page, seeing the complete narrative that was devised for the both of you. Former HYDRA operatives. Defected together. Fell off the radar together. And now, resurfacing together.

“So that’s why you couldn’t send me with anyone else but him? You’re using our past as your little fucking token?” You questioned.

“I used it as an in. Orkolov doesn’t deal with outsiders. He doesn’t trust new faces. But a couple; one with a history, one with shared scars, one that understands the same darkness he does—that’s a story he’ll believe.” Bucky let out a sharp breath, the kind that sounded like he was seconds away from either punching a hole through the table or walking out of the room entirely. His jaw was tight, his fingers curling into a fist on his knee before he got up to start pacing.

“Your timelines together added up just right for this plan to even work, we couldn’t risk missing the opportunity.” She continued, as Bucky let out a laugh, shaking his head while he paced back and forth with his hands on his hips and his eyes locked onto the floor.

“Our timelines added up?” You repeated, incredulously, pushing the open file away from you once again, “You mean the years I spent trying to escape HYDRA? The fucking manhunt that followed me? The fact that he spent months trying to track me down and brought me to the edge of my fucking life?” You pointed at Bucky, who stopped pacing at the mention of the past, his body coiled tight, “That was just a nice little convenience for your little story huh?” Maria exhaled slowly.

”I know this is a lot-.”

“No,” Bucky cut her off, “A lot is being sent into a hostile situation. A lot is having our real names handed over to a man who probably wants us to reinstate our old HYDRA roles again.” He motioned between you and himself, his glare was all-encompassing, fury-filled, “But this? This is fucking insanity.” Maria nodded.

“I understand it is, and I’m sorry I didn’t run it by the both of you, but we are in a tight time crunch that you don’t seem to be seeing. A war is brewing, and we need intel to save lives, Bucky. You of all people should know what war does to someone.” The words came out of her without time to process what she was just about to say. You could see Bucky’s body go rigid, his breathing slowing down as if he were trying to calm himself. Maria had just thrown gasoline onto a blazing fire, and she knew it right away. You looked over at her, hoping, and waiting for her to backpedal, to apologize, but she held firm, staring at Bucky.

“You don’t get to use that against me.” Maria held his gaze.

“I won’t do it again…I just needed you to understand the direness of the situation.” He reached for the chair he had been sitting in, gripping the top of it, glancing over at you, trying to gauge what you were thinking, but at this point, you were unreadable, you were spaced out, looking at the table. You already realized there was no choice, and Maria wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

---—————-

“So let me get this straight. You and Bucky, the guy who literally almost gutted you like a fish, are going to fly to Vienna, so that you can attend a party and meet a guy who will probably end up either killing the both of you or recruiting you into his little ring of friends?” Natasha asked, her voice edging with something between amusement and disbelief. She lay sprawled out across your bed, watching you rummage through your closet, throwing shirts, jackets, and pants onto the ground as you attempted to find something that would make you blend into The Velvet Fang.

“That about sums it up.” You muttered, tossing another article of clothing to the side. Natasha let out a low whistle, flipping onto her stomach so she could rest her chin on her palm, a smirk plastered on her face. You looked over your shoulder, seeing her ice-blue eyes studying you.

“So…When’s the wedding?” She asked jokingly, trying to lighten the conversation. You rolled your eyes, stepping over the pile of clothes that surrounded you, and throwing yourself down on the bed with a loud thump.

“Please I am in no mood for your jokes.” You groaned, opening your eyes to stare up at the ceiling, your hands lying flat on your stomach. Natasha hummed.

“No jokes? Damn…This must really be killing you.” You shook your head.

“If it was anyone else I would be completely fine with it, but I can see he’s still unstable. You saw me when I defected from HYDRA, I was an absolute mess, it took me months to undo what they did, and I was only there for a year tops. Bucky had been their fucking plaything for decades, there’s no possible way he’s somehow reformed and completely fine.” You explained.

“So you’re scared he’s gonna snap and try and kill you again?” She asked softly, letting the question linger in the air, watching the way you shifted uncomfortably against the mattress.

“I’m not scared of him.” She arched her brow.

“Let’s not try to deflect the real question I just asked you Y/N.” You broke eye contact with her, not wanting to stare at her observant gaze. She knew you too well. She already had her answers. She just wanted to hear it from you.

“It’s not about him trying to kill me, Nat. We are coming face to face with someone who knows about our past with HYDRA. Who knows how long he has had to try and plan something against us. He knows we’re coming, we are on his list. What happens if Orkolov pushes the wrong buttons, and Bucky just loses it? Who do you think he’ll take out first? Hmm?” You asked, feeling the mattress shift, noticing Natasha getting up and walking over to the pile of clothes, shuffling through it to see if she could find something for you herself.

“If he wanted to, if he still had it in him…He would’ve done it when he saw you this morning. Even after you pushed his buttons he didn’t try to put in the kill shot. If it was Winter Soldier Bucky…You would’ve been a bloodstain on that conference room floor.” Natasha’s words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. You swallowed hard, shifting on the bed, your fingers idly tracing the seam of your sleeve. You wanted to argue, to push back against her calm logic, but you couldn’t. Because deep down, you knew she was right. You sat up on your elbows, looking over at her pulling out a short black dress from the pile that you had overlooked, holding it up to herself for a brief moment before tossing it at you.

“This’ll work.” You eyed it skeptically.

“That thing barely has enough fabric to cover my ass…” She smirked.

“I’m pretty sure people at The Velvet Fang will appreciate it.” You ran your hand over the silky material, a defeated sigh escaping your throat.

“I can’t believe I’m putting myself out on display like this.” You muttered, lying down on the mattress again, a wave of nausea pouring up your stomach.

“You’re not. You’re just going to be a little bit of eye candy. Nobody is going to be hitting on you, especially if you’re with Bucky.” She pointed out. Her words were meant to be reassuring but they only made your stomach churn even more.

“Great…So now instead of kicking him out a window, I need to hide behind him to ignore any advances.” Natasha laughed, crossing her arms as she leaned against your dresser.

“I wish I could be there to see you play the doting little girlfriend, all wrapped up in her dangerous bad boy boyfriend. You’re gonna have to play nice.” You closed your eyes tightly.

“I’m going to throw myself out of the fucking plane while we’re in the air…That’s the only way I could get out of this.”

“C’mon. Now you’re just being dramatic. You should be taking this as an opportunity to let loose a little bit.” You groaned.

“If letting loose is code for committing manslaughter, I will happily let loose.” Natasha sighed.

“No manslaughter. Just try and have fun. You need to be convincing, if you’re looking miserable with someone who you’re supposed to love, Orkolov will immediately know. You’ll have to practice at least a bit so you two can loosen up and look natural.”

--—————————

Natasha’s words were running through your head the entire time you sat across from Bucky in the jet. The cabin was quiet, apart from the low hum of the engines and the occasional crackle of the intercom. You sat stiffly in your seat, looking at the glass of water on the table in front of you, watching the way it vibrated gently. You could hear him picking at the stitches of the leather seat, trying to distract himself, not wanting to say anything to you, but you could feel his presence, like an itch beneath your skin.

Without Maria, the both of you made an unspoken agreement to avoid having a conversation altogether. But now, halfway into the flight, the silence was starting to wear on you. You had avoided his eyes for the entire time, but when you leaned forward to reach for the glass you had been staring at you could hear the noise of his picking halt and his breath hitch. You looked up at him, seeing the way his jaw was clenched, and how he wasn’t staring at your face, but lower.

“What? What did I-” You looked down at yourself and paused, realizing that in the moment you had moved forward you loose zip up sweater did as well, exposing the top of his handy work. The top part was jagged, where he had twisted and applied pressure, almost like he wanted to break your chest open. You swallowed loudly, remembering the taste of blood that flooded your mouth in those moments before quickly straightening the fabric, bringing the zipper up all the way to your neck. The silence between the both of you stretched with fragility, you were expecting him to look away, but he couldn’t. He cleared his throat, and when he finally spoke he was quieter, his tone almost hollow.

”I didn’t…I didn’t realize it looked like that.” His words were uneven, shaky, and it made you pause. He wasn’t just shocked, he was horrified. You could see the way his fingers twitched, the way they dug into the fabric of his pants like he was trying to ground himself. It felt like someone had split his ribcage open and had begun to squeeze his lungs, wringing out all the air.

”Well…I don’t really go out showing it off to people.” You muttered, bringing your feet up to rest on the seat, so your knees were against your chest.

“I don’t remember…” He exhaled sharply, dragging his dark metal fingers through his hair, shaking his head, “I can’t remember doing it…” You hugged your knees closer to your chest, the weight of his words settling between you like a stone at the bottom of a lake. Bucky shook his head again as if he was trying to jog his memory so that he could rearrange the gaps.

”I remember tracking you.” You looked up at him, noticing the hint of frustration that glimmered in the dim lighting of the cabin. “I remember the order. I remember the fight, the way you used everything in your power to get me. You were…Trying to reach for your gun or a pager…Something, I don’t know.” You could feel your throat tighten, as you leaned forward to grab the glass of water, trying to wash down the lump that was forming, “Then I slammed you on the floor…But the moment it happened…It’s blank like someone ripped it out of my head. It’s a black hole.” You traced the rim of the glass. You didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he had done it or the fact that they wiped it from his memory.

“Lucky you I guess.” You whispered under your breath, taking another swig of water, feeling it cool your chest. His eyes narrowed.

”Can’t believe you would say something like that.” His voice was quiet.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You replied, settling the glass down on the table with a little more force than necessary, “You don’t carry it the way I have to.”

“I may not remember what I did to you, but do you really think I don’t wake up every fucking day knowing that there are pieces of me…Of the things that I’ve done…That I can’t even remember or be sorry for? I’d rather remember all of it than have these fucking gaps, where I have no idea who I was, what I did, or who I hurt.” His words sat on your chest. There was a part of you that wanted to lash out at him, to shove all the pain back at him with full force, to remind him that no matter how much he suffered you would never forgive him for what he did, that was just the honest truth. But then there was something under the surface, the haunting look in his eyes, the way he seemed like he wanted to crawl into himself and die…It tugged at the person you once were. That person would’ve seen the man in front of them for what he was now, not for what he had been then, but she was buried beneath the layers of anger, beneath everything HYDRA had done to you both. You ran a hand down your face.

”Look…Bucky.” He lifted his head slightly at you, brows knitting together, “I don’t know what you want me to say. That it’s fine? That I don’t think about it? I can’t lie to you about that.” He swallowed hard, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table, his hands clasping together.

”All I want is for you to know…That I’d take it back if I could, and that…I’m sorry.” The sincerity in his voice unsettled you. It was easier when he was cold, when he was just the Winter Soldier and not the man left in the aftermath. You wanted to hold onto your anger, to clutch it tight like it was your armour, but it was slipping through your fingers like sand. You exhaled slowly, staring down at your hands.

”I know…”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” He said, voice low, “I don’t even know if I’d want you to.” You looked at him, the both of you holding each other’s eyes.

”I don’t know if I can…But I know you mean it.” Bucky held your gaze for a moment longer, like he was searching for something in your face, something you weren’t sure you could give him. Then he nodded, a small, barely-there movement, and looked down at the table between you. You sighed, shifting in your seat.

”We still need to come up with a story that we are going to tell Orkolov if he asks us about our past.” Bucky rubbed the sweat off his palm.

”Yeah…Forgot about that.” He sat back in his seat, tilting his head against the headrest, eyes flicking toward the light above the both of you, “So, where do we start?” You shoved your hands into your sweater pocket.

”We can’t make it too perfect. If it’s too clean, he will know we rehearsed it, and that we’re lying.” He nodded, rolling his shoulders.

”Alright. So, we need just enough truth to give it that believability.” You nodded. He drummed his fingers against his knee.

”We start with HYDRA. Orkolov knows that we both left the place. I don’t know if he knows how much involvement you had in the place but we can keep it vague.”

”We can say I was assigned to intelligence. Data collection, infiltration? Something that didn’t leave much of a paper trail.” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “That’ll also explain why my name doesn’t come up as often as yours, and I won’t have to explain why I really left.” Bucky hummed in agreement, rubbing his jaw as he thought it over.

”That works. They trained you but it was separate from the rest of us. They won’t suspect anything.” You gulped, pushing away the memories before they had a chance to settle into you.

”So how did we end up meeting then?” You questioned.

”When you defected, they sent me after you.” He responded simply, “It’ll explain the scar, and the reason why you’re not dead.” You shifted in your seat.

”Right…Because you hesitated.” A lie, but it was believable. Bucky nodded once.

”Something about you made me stop. I didn’t understand why, and I let you go.” You inhaled deeply.

”And HYDRA dragged you back in and wiped you again, tried to erase whatever it was that made you hesitate to finish the job.” He looked at you.

”But it didn’t stick, and then I found you again.” You swallowed, slowly nodding, glancing down at your hands as you traced the storyline in your mind, fitting the pieces together intricately, patching up whatever holes would be in the story.

”How?” Bucky shrugged.

”I don’t know, maybe I just started remembering things I wasn’t supposed to. Then I knew I needed to find you.” You took a steady breath.

”So you found me…And we made a pact to stick together, then somewhere along the way we got close. We had no one else, relied on each other, and just…Fell into it.” This was all just a cover, a fabrication designed to protect you both. But as you studied Bucky’s face, the way his fingers twitched slightly on the table, the way his throat bobbed with an unspoken thought, you realized just how convincing it sounded, even to yourselves. He cleared his throat, letting out a small cough.

”Yeah, I think that story is easy to sell.” You ran through it together once again, ironing out the little details, and making sure there were no weaknesses. Once you were finished there was only an hour left before you landed in Vienna, and thankfully things had cooled down a bit.

”Alright. So we stick to that story, no hesitations, no second guessing.” He nodded, his fingers tapping against the table.

”And what about the physical stuff?” He asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You looked at him, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers drummed against the table like he was trying to find a rhythm to keep himself grounded. He didn’t like the idea any more than you did, but you both knew it was necessary.

”It has to look and be natural.” You responded, “If we’re stiff or uncomfortable Orkolov will immediately see it. We don’t have to overdo it, but we can’t act like we are business partners either.” You added, taking another sip of your water.

”So, what’s the expectation here? Hand on your back? Arm around your waist? Holding hands? K-Kissing?” He stuttered on the last word, covering it up with a forced cough, his eyes flicking away from you. You could feel the nausea building in your stomach again, as you gulped down the rest of the water, trying to buy yourself time to cool yourself down.

“Touching needs to look natural, with no flinching or discomfort. We can’t force it. We take the opportunities when it feels like the right time.” You paused momentarily, “And kissing will happen only if necessary.” You clarified.

“Right,” He muttered, “Only if necessary.” You shifted again, absentmindedly scratching at the scar on your chest.

”If we don’t think about it so much, we will be fine.” Bucky nodded, but the tension in his posture didn’t ease. He exhaled sharply through his nose, shifting in his seat before looking at you again.

“Maybe we should practice.” He suggested, his voice low. Your eyebrows raised at him, and he realized what he had said, “Not…not everything, obviously, it’s just to get used to it. If we go in cold, it’ll be obvious we don’t know how to act around each other.” You hated that he had a point, it would be obvious if the both of you were looking like you were being held at gunpoint by one another every time you touched, practice was a necessary evil unfortunately.

“Alright. What do you want to start with?” Bucky hesitated.

”Hand holding would be good I guess.” He exhaled, wiping his sweaty palm on his pants before bringing his right hand onto the table, facing it palm up. You shook your head.

”What?” He asked, looking at his hand, then back at you.

“I want the metal one.” He looked down at it.

“It’s vibranium.” He corrected quietly. You rolled your eyes.

”Okay. I want the vibranium one. Better?” He sighed, lifting his left hand up and placing it on the table between you. The dark material shined beneath the light, the small slivers of gold contrasting against the harsh black that lined the entire appendage. You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his. You expected the cool metal against your skin but got something different.

”Do you have a heater in this thing or something? Why is it so warm?” You asked, earning a small laugh from him, your thumb running over the palm of his hand, watching the slivers of gold pulsing when he moved his fingers slightly.

”I had it under my thigh when we were going over our little cover-up story.” He admitted. You raised a brow at him, your lips twitching upward.

”So what? You were preheating it for me?” He shook his head.

”Didn’t expect you to ask for the vibranium hand, so I guess it was just luck.” You hummed at his comment, trailing your fingers up his forearm, feeling the smooth, almost seamless transition between the plates. It was strange how human it felt, despite what it was.

“Can I ask what happened to the other one?” You could feel his fingertips twitch against your skin at the question, and for a moment he didn’t say anything, then he looked up at you.

“Stark blew it off…Back at a HYDRA facility in Siberia.” He responded, his voice flat, unaffected. You were surprised by this anecdote, and you were even more caught off guard that Steve never told you this, not that you ever asked about Bucky, he knew that subject was off limits.

“I didn’t know that.” He nodded.

“Yeah…I did attack him technically so it wasn’t unprovoked.” He admitted, breaking eye contact, “I’m pretty sure it also happened when you were in the hospital so that’s why you weren’t privy to what was going on.” You hadn’t considered that before, how much had happened in the world while you were recovering, piecing yourself back together in a sterile hospital room, drowning in silence while everything kept moving without you. He watched your fingers tracing the small patterns on his arm until you reached his hand again, hesitating for a moment before you laced your fingers between his. Neither of you spoke, you just sat, watching the way your hands fit together, squeezing slightly when adjusting your grips. His fingers closed around yours with a surprising amount of gentleness.

“This is…A little weird.” Bucky admitted.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Neither of you let go, though.

“You don’t have to keep holding it if it makes you uncomfortable.” He muttered, his eyes flickering up to yours.

“It’s not uncomfortable.” You responded, shaking your head. He went to say something, but before he could the pilot got on the intercom.

“We’re approaching Vienna,” The pilot announced, causing the both of you to look up, “Please fasten your seatbelts.” You looked back at him, and with slight reluctance, let his hand go. As the jet began its descent, the hum of the engines shifted, and the subtle change in angle caused your stomach to drop. You adjusted your seatbelt tightly against your stomach, glancing over at Bucky, who was relaxing in his spot, looking totally unbothered.

“Are you always this relaxed when the plane is landing?” You asked, a wave of nausea bubbling in your stomach as you adjusted your grip on the armrest.

“Yeah pretty much. Been on enough planes to know when to start panicking.” A groan escaped your throat, trying to ease the sickness.

“That’s really not helping right now.” Bucky smirked, adjusting himself in his seat.

“What? You want me to lie to you? Tell you we’re perfectly safe?” He mocked, as you groaned again at the turbulence.

“Yes,” You gritted your teeth, “A lie would be great.”

“Alright, alright.” He said, leaning forward slightly, “This is the smoothest landing I’ve ever been on. There’s nothing to worry about. The pilot is probably doing this with his eyes closed.” He whispered, holding back his laughter. You squinted at him.

“That didn’t help either.” You said, squeezing the armrest again. He sighed, reaching his vibranium hand out, and tapping his fingers against the table to get your attention.

“Instead of taking your anger out on the leather…And for practice, since I can tell you’re uncomfortable and a boyfriend would offer some form of comfort.” You let out a small laugh, “And considering you looked less miserable when you were holding it earlier…Thought it would be worth a shot.” Once again the jet moved and your stomach lurched.

“Okay okay!” You exclaimed, grabbing onto his hand, feeling his fingers wrap around yours instantly.

“Are you going to be sick?” You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly. Bucky’s grip was firm but not constricting, the warmth from his vibranium fingers grounding you as you exhaled through your nose.

"Are you sure?" He asked again, quieter this time. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, the small motion doing more to settle you than anything else had so far.

"Yeah, just-" You inhaled sharply as the wheels made contact with the runway, the force of the landing pressing you back against your seat. You squeezed his hand a little harder than you probably needed to, but he didn’t say anything, he just let you hold on as long as you needed to.

When the plane finally came to a halt, the pressure in your stomach eased. You opened your eyes, releasing a slow breath before blinking up at him, seeing his eyebrows were raised.

“You good now?” He asked, his thumb still absentmindedly brushing against your knuckles.

”Mhm…” You exhaled, loosening your grip from his, though you hesitated before fully letting go, “I think I can walk out of this thing without embarrassing myself too much.” He retracted his hand, unbuckling his seatbelt.

”Would’ve been great if you puked all over the runway though.” You shot him a glare.

”Real supportive there Bucky.” You replied, unbuckling your seatbelt as well, standing up from your spot.

”Hey, I held your hand.” He shrugged, a small laugh escaping his mouth.

”I’m going to put that on your fake boyfriend record…Decent under pressure, but D minus for aftercare.” He smirked.

”Duly noted, I’ll be sure to add something to your fake girlfriend record too.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing your duffle bag from under your seat, throwing it over your shoulder.

“Hey hey. No. Hand me the bag.” He protested, causing your gaze to snap to his.

”What?” You questioned, your eyebrows knitting together.

”We have no idea if they’re already watching, I might as well be seen as a gentleman, not a douchebag that lets his partner carry her alarmingly large bag on her own.” You sighed, rolling your eyes but handing over the duffle bag anyways.

”If you start complaining about how heavy it is, I’m taking it back.” Bucky scoffed, effortlessly slinging the bag over his shoulder alongside his own.

“I’ve carried bodies heavier than this.” He responded.

”Wow. How romantic.” You shot back sarcastically, while walking towards the exit of the jet.

”It’s just part of the charm, sweetheart.” You could feel your cheeks heat up slightly at the nickname, as the cold Vienna air washed over your face. The tarmac was quiet, save for the faint buzzing of the airport staff moving around in the distance. Once you had walked down the steps you waited for Bucky before proceeding to the sleek black car that idled at the curb, it’s glossy surface reflecting the warm glow of the nearby streetlights. A man leaned casually against the trunk, arms crossed over his chest. His attire is meticulous; a well-fitted suit, dark leather gloves, and a wide-brimmed hat casting a subtle shadow over his sharp features. He looked extremely professional, though his posture had an air of indifference, like he’d been standing there too long and was ready to be anywhere else. When he had seen the both of you approaching he immediately straightened out, a small smile coming up on his face.

”Mr. Barnes.” He greeted, giving him a nod, “Welcome to Vienna.”

”Thank you.” The driver’s gaze then flickered toward you, as he gave you a nod as well.

”It’s a pleasure to have you as well Mrs…?” Bucky didn’t hesitate.

”Hopefully Mrs. Barnes one day,” He said smoothly, his arm slipping around your waist, fingers resting very lightly at your hip. You were caught off guard by how effortlessly he delivered the line, but you held a casual smile. The driver’s eyebrows lifted slightly, smirking, clearly entertained by Bucky’s response.

”A man with a plan. I respect that.” You forced a laugh, leaning into the act as much as possible.

“Always so charming.” You commented, resting your hand on his rigid abdomen. The driver smiled.

”Well, let’s get you two lovebirds to the hotel then!” He exclaimed, clasping his hands together as he walked towards the drivers side of the car. Bucky’s grip on your waist tightened just enough to remind you of the role you were playing, as he let go, moving to the trunk to put your duffle bags into it. You slid into the backseat, with Bucky following close behind. The leather interior was soft against your back as the both of you settled in, relaxing on your respective sides.

The car eased away from the airport, quickly merging onto the quiet streets of Vienna. The city was bathed in the golden glow of streetlights, the architecture looked regal and timeless against the dark sky, if you weren’t here for a mission you would’ve loved to explore more. The hum of the engine filling the space between you and Bucky. The driver adjusted his rearview mirror so he could look at the both of you.

”So, are you guys celebrating something special?” He asked, his voice casual as he maneuvered the car through the empty city streets.

“Our one year anniversary actually.” Bucky answered without hesitation. The driver let out a whistle.

”Wow, one year huh? That’s always a big one. First anniversaries are always special.” The driver’s enthusiasm was palpable, his grin wide and toothy. “First year of a relationship can always be the hardest they say, what’s the secret to making it?” He asked, glancing back at the road.

”Patience, and knowing when to pick your battles.” Bucky responded. You let out a short laugh at his response.

”That’s very funny coming from you.” Bucky smirked, glancing at you.

”What? You disagree?” You tilted your head, pretending to mull it over.

”Let’s say you have a very selective definition of ‘picking your battles.’” The driver chuckled at the interaction.

”It sounds like the both of you keep each other on your toes.”

“You could say that,” You replied, a playful tone lacing your voice, as you shot Bucky a knowing look.

“That’s how you know it’s real though. You guys can argue, but at the end of the day, you still choose each other.” He paused, then added, “You two planning anything special while you’re here?” Bucky hummed, glancing over at you before responding.

”Haven’t locked anything down yet, but we had some ideas. Sightseeing, going to some top rated restaurants, maybe a little dancing.” The driver nodded.

“Well, if you’re looking for ideas, you picked a great city to celebrate in.” He gestured out the windshield as he made a turn. “Vienna’s got something for everyone. You into history? The Schönbrunn Palace is breathtaking. Art? You can’t miss the Belvedere Museum. Or maybe you want something more intimate, the sunset at the Danube Tower is unforgettable.” Bucky drummed his fingers lightly against his thigh.

”Oh you’ve definitely given us some great suggestions, it’s going to be hard to narrow it down.” You nodded, agreeing with him, the mission still looming in the back of your mind.

”You know…You two remind me of my wife and I when we first started going out.” Bucky raised a brow, glancing over at you.

”Yeah?”

”Definitely,” He responded, his hands steady on the wheel, “Always teasing, making little quips at each other, but at the end of the day there was never any doubt that we were solid.” He turned down another street, “That’s how you know it’s real. When you can drive each other absolutely crazy and you still wouldn’t trade them for the world.” Bucky let out a small chuckle, shaking his head, glancing over at you.

”Well, we’ve definitely got the ‘driving each other crazy’ part down…Don’t we doll?” You wanted to nudge him in the ribs, but you held yourself back.

”Oh yeah. Definitely.” The driver let out a hearty laugh, as the car slowed, approaching a grand hotel. Its entrance was illuminated by the soft glow of golden lanterns, the stairs leading up to the towering glass doors were lined with polished stones, where a doorman in a crisp uniform stood at attention, watching him coming down the steps as soon as the vehicle came to a stop.

”Well, lovebirds, here we are.” The driver announced with a grin as he shifted the car into park, “Welcome to the Imperial!” Bucky exhaled through his nose, glancing over at you, a look of relief washing over his face. He must’ve been itching to get out of the car right when the driver started asking questions. Bucky took his wallet out quickly, handing the man a tip.

“Thank you for the ride.” He said, wasting no time opening the door and stepping out, holding his hand out for you to grab, still trying to keep up appearances.

“Enjoy your stay! And remember, don’t sweat the small stuff.” Bucky leaned down to look at the man.

”We’ll keep it in mind. Thank you again.” He responded politely, closing the door behind him, as the doorman opened the trunk of the car.

“Welcome to the Imperial! I’ll bring your bags in for you, no need to wait for me, you can go and get yourselves checked in.” Bucky gave the doorman a quick nod. You could tell he was eager to get inside and escape the unnecessary small talk, just like you at this point. His hand pressed lightly against your lower back, as he gestured for you to head towards the entrance first.

The moment you stepped inside, the warmth of the hotel lobby enveloped you, a stark contrast to the bitter night air that was brewing outside. The Imperial exuded luxury in every detail; polished marble floors reflected the golden glow of crystal chandeliers overhead, and the faint scent of fresh lilies mingled with the rich aroma of tobacco, like someone had lit a cigar and left it out to marinate. Ornate columns framed the space, leading toward an opulent sitting area where a handful of late-night guests lingered over drinks, their laughter a quiet murmur beneath the soft classical music playing from hidden speakers. You both walked by, garnering their attention for a brief moment before they returned back to their conversations.

Behind the counter, a woman in her mid-thirties with sharp cheekbones, deep red lipstick, and perfectly slicked back brown hair stood, looking at her computer screen with an emotionless expression, nothing behind the eyes.. When she heard you approaching her gaze flicked up, lingering on Bucky for just a little longer than necessary before looking at you. You could see her straighten her back, almost to puff her chest out, and her expression shifted into something more warm and inviting.

”Good evening! Welcome to the Imperial,” She greeted smoothly, her voice like silk against the air, “Do you have a reservation with us this evening?” Bucky gave her a small nod, taking out his wallet.

”Uh…It should be under Barnes. James Barnes.” You glanced over at him, watching him pull out a credit card that had his name scrawled on the back of it, handing it over to her so she could compare the information. She glanced at the card then her screen, scrolling through the list of guests.

”Ah,” She murmured, tapping the enter key, “Here you are. A deluxe suite. What an excellent choice.” Her smile widened ever so slightly, as she handed Bucky’s card back, letting her fingers graze his. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, it was barely noticeable. He took his card back, clearing his throat slightly.

”The deluxe suite is one of our finest…It’s spacious, private…Perfect for an…” She let the words linger, tilting her head a bit, “Intimate getaway.” You were growing increasingly uncomfortable with the interaction, and you could tell by the way Bucky was fidgeting he was probably in the same boat. He gave her a polite nod, slipping his card back into his wallet.

”It sounds like we got lucky.” The receptionist's smile didn’t waver, if anything it grew even wider.

“Oh, I’d say you’re very lucky, Mr. Barnes.” Her voice dipped just enough into suggestiveness that it caused Bucky’s grip on his wallet to tighten, as her eyes roamed over him. She picked up a black folder, sliding it towards him with ease.

”All the details of your stay will be in here, your key card, the room service menu, spa packages…” She trailed off, her manicured nails tapping against the folders edge, “And of course, if you need anything extra, I’d be happy to personally ensure your stay is perfect.” Bucky nodded stiffly, shifting his weight into you a bit, desperate to wrap this interaction up.

”I appreciate it.” He responded, stepping back a bit, as you took the folder from the desk. Before the receptionist could say anything else, the doorman came in, carrying both of your bags with practiced ease.

”Here we are!” He announced, “Would you like me to bring them up to your suite for you?” Bucky shook his head, jumping at the chance to break free from the lingering tension.

”No need. I got it.” He held his hand out, grabbing both bags from the man, throwing them over his shoulder, his biceps flexing against his fitted long sleeve shirt. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the receptionist’s gaze flicking downward, taking in the ease of his actions, obviously enjoying the view. You let out a small exasperated sigh, as you leaned into Bucky a little more, dragging your hand up his torso, feeling his muscles flinch slightly.

”Baby, can we please go up to the room now? I’ve been dying for a bit of privacy since we got off the plane.” He looked over at you, his eyes widened a bit, taken off guard by your sudden change in tone, now slipping in to save him from being flirted with.

”Of course…Yeah. Where are the elevators?” The both of you turned your attention back to the receptionist, seeing that her expression of lust had faltered just a bit, her smiling tightening at the edges.

”They’re going to be down the hallway to your left. Enjoy your stay.” Bucky didn’t waste a second, moving away from the desk, slipping his hand to your lower back guiding you to the elevators.

As soon as the doors slid closed, the both of you quickly unravelled yourselves from each other, standing on different sides of the elevator.

”Jesus Christ.” Bucky muttered, staring up at the mirrored ceiling, “That was awful.” You smirked.

”She was just being nice.” Bucky’s head snapped down.

”Nice? She was acting like she was going to rip my clothes off in the middle of the lobby. I was about five seconds away from running for my life.” You laughed.

”Who knew the Winter Soldier would be afraid of a little flirting.” Bucky scoffed.

”I’ve seen flirting before. That was not flirting.” He insisted, “And you could’ve stepped in a little sooner y’know.” You let out a soft laugh.

”Well, maybe I wanted to watch you simmer a little bit. You’re the one that went off kilter with the anniversary thing with the driver, it was just pay back.” Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, shifting his stance a bit, feeling the elevator stop on your floor.

”Yeah…I guess you’re right.” A ding echoed through the small space, signalling your arrival, “Let’s just get inside the room before she comes chasing after us asking if I want a private spa service or something.” He wasted no time stepping out of the elevator, adjusting his grip on the bags, with you following him closely down the lavishly decorated hallway. The plush navy carpet absorbed your footsteps, it felt like you were walking on memory foam. You took the keycard out of the folder the receptionist gave, as you reached your suite, sliding it through with euro hesitation, hearing the door click open, pushing it open wide before slipping into the suite.

You step in first, taking in the expansive suite with its elegant decor. The soft yellow lighting illuminates the room, casting a warm glow all over the navy accents that were strewn about the room. There were floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the city, and from way up there you could see things were still buzzing. It was undeniably luxurious, and for a moment, you almost forgot why you were there in the first place. Your eyes continued to skim over the accommodations, as Bucky stepped in behind you, dropping the bags in front of the closet, a sigh escaping his lips.

“Damn…Pretty fancy.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he began to wander. You stepped towards the windows, wanting to get a better look at the view, crossing your arms over your stomach to hold yourself. Bucky moved toward the small kitchenette, his fingers drumming along the marble countertop.

“Mmm…At least we got a free bottle of champagne.” He announced, as you looked over your shoulder, seeing him turn the bottle towards you, a smirk on his lips, placing it back down on the counter, so that he could continue to explore the suite further, disappearing behind a partially opened door. You heard him hum in mild amusement before poking his head out.

”You’d be happy to know that the bed is massive. You’re gonna love it.” You stepped away from the window, making your way toward the bedroom. The room matched the accents of the main living area, the deep navy, the gold accents, the thick carpeting, with a bed so big that it could at least fit three people comfortably.

“It’s nice.” Bucky smirked, watching as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

”There’s just one issue.” Bucky raised a brow.

”What?” You motioned to the wall opposite of the bed.

”There’s no TV in here…” He glanced at the wall.

”Guess they think people coming in here don’t need distractions.” You let out a quiet sigh.

”I can’t sleep without background noise.” You murmured, seeing Bucky’s face fall a bit, now realizing you were being serious. You slipped out of the bedroom, hearing Bucky’s footsteps following close behind.

”Is that a you thing or…Is that a HYDRA thing?” He asked, watching as you went over to the counter that had the bottle of champagne on it, ripping off the black foil.

”I think you can take a guess,” You responded, twisting the metal that was holding the cork on the bottle. His jaw ticked, not needing to push you any further for details, as he moved towards you, leaning against the counter, his fingers idly tapping against his bicep.

”I get it.” You threw the curled metal onto the counter, putting your hand over the cork, turning it slowly.

”Sure.” The tone was a bit dismissive, and you didn’t mean for it to sound that way, all you wanted to do was avoid the conversation about HYDRA.

”I sleep on the floor, with the lights on, and even when those conditions are met I still can’t get a normal night's rest. So I do get it Y/N.” Your movements faltered for a moment, your grip on the cork tightening. The tension in Bucky’s voice wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t light either. You swallowed thickly, letting the words settle between the both of you until the cork popped with a soft thud. You reached for the two tubular glasses and poured the champagne into them slowly, being mindful of the bubbles that frothed at the surface. Bucky stayed where he was, as you handed him a full glass.

”If you need the background noise you can sleep out here, if you want.” You glanced up at him.

“What?” He motioned towards the couch in the living room area.

”You can take the couch since I won’t be using it, and I don’t mind background noise…I probably won’t be sleeping tonight anyways.” You hesitated for a moment, taking a small sip from the champagne glass, letting the sweet, and bitter flavour mingle on your tongue.

“Couch it is…I guess.” You responded. Bucky gave a tiny, satisfied nod before raising his glass slightly, not as a toast, just as a simple acknowledgment of the situation, with you mirroring the same gesture, the both of you downing the whole glass in one go. The fizzy liquid burned slightly on the way down, but it was far from it being unpleasant. If anything, it helped take the edge off, even if it was just a little. Your tongue swiped across your lips, chasing the lingering taste.

“Well, that’s definitely a way to settle in.” You huffed a quiet laugh.

”Could be worse, we could be stuck in some rundown motel with paper-thin walls.” Bucky smirked, setting his empty champagne glass down on the counter with a quiet clink.

”I actually think if we were in a rundown motel less eyes would be on us.” You placed your glass down as well.

”Yeah, but then we’d have to deal with the possibility of bedbugs, a busted heater, and a crappy television set.”

”Sounds like a real test of endurance.” He quipped, as he grabbed the countertop with his hands.

”Mmm, real elite training there Bucky. Maybe throw in some mystery stains on the carpet for a little bit of spice.” He snorted, shaking his head as he reached for one of the mini bottles of whisky that came with the mini bar.

”Speaking of challenges, we should probably get something to eat before we start drinking more.” You raised your eyebrows at him.

”Did we get different super serums or something? Because I could’ve sworn I don’t get drunk and I’ve really tried to override that.” He smirked, twisting off the small cap from the bottle, taking a sip.

”No, we definitely have similar versions if you don’t get drunk, but then again I haven’t really ran into anyone else like us to ask this question.” You hummed, handing him the room service menu.

”Well, if we ever do, I think that’ll be the first question I ask. Forget the whole ‘where are you from, what’s your story’, I’m leading with ‘can you go through multiple large bottles of alcohol and not absolutely destroy your liver?’” Bucky laughed.

”Yeah, it’s definitely an important question to ask, skip all the pleasantries, get straight to the essentials.” You smirked, watching as he flipped open the menu, his eyes skimming along the items.

”Alright, what are we thinking? Fries? Sliders? Mystery meat from the hotel’s five-star kitchen?” You shrugged, leaning against the counter.

”Honestly, just order anything. As long as it’s not snails or something that still has a face.” He nodded, reaching for the phone.

”Don’t worry, I have the same sentiment. No fine dining nightmares.” You listened as he placed the order, keeping it simple with fries, sliders, and a charcuterie board because he wanted something to pick at. He also made sure to add the large bottle of whisky onto the order just before hanging up.

”They said it’ll be here in about thirty minutes.” He said, stretching his arms above his head to crack his back and neck.

”Alright, I’m gonna hit the shower first then since it’s gonna be a bit of a wait.” Bucky nodded.

”Go for it, I’ll make sure they don’t slip something into our food.” You made your way over to your bag, grabbing the pajamas you brought before heading toward the bathroom.

”Ever the soldier, Barnes.”

”Hey, it comes with the territory.” He shot back, as you closed the door behind you. The space was sleek and modern, all marble and gold accents, the kind of luxury that made you hesitate for a second. It felt too pristine, too untouched. You shook off the thought and turned the shower on, letting the water heat up as steam filled the room. You peeled your clothes off, leaving them in a small pile on the floor, before stepping under the boiling water, sighing as the heat ran over your skin. You could feel the tension in your muscles melt away, and for the first time in the last few hours, you felt yourself truly relax beneath the stream.

You ran your hands over your arms, watching the droplets of water slide over your skin, reaching over to pump a bit of body wash into your hand. The lush scent of lavender tickled your nose, as you ran the soap along the planes of your body, taking time with yourself to just absorb the calm environment. It wasn’t often that you got to enjoy something as simple as a hot shower without rushing, nor without your mind racing. You lingered longer than usual, running your hands over your body, tracing the rivulets of water as they slid down your skin. It felt indulgent in a way—like taking your time was a luxury.

After a while, the heat began to weigh on you, and you reached to turn off the water, stepping out onto the plush bath mat. The mirror was fogged over, your reflection blurring at the edges as you wiped a hand across the glass

You grabbed a towel, running it over your arms and legs before wrapping it around yourself. The air was noticeably cooler now that you were out of the shower, a stark contrast to the warmth you’d just been under. You stood for a moment, looking at your reflection before grabbing your pajamas, and pulling them on, starting with your baggy tan t-shirt, then ending with your shorts that you could barely see due to the length of the top. You stopped to look at your reflection for a moment, turning to the side to look at the three deep scar tissue marks on your outer thigh, your fingertips running along them, letting out a frustrated sigh, before fixing the shirt over it. You hung the damp towel on the back of the door, stepping back out into the main area of the suite, pushing your hair out of your face. Bucky was sitting at the little coffee table, pouring himself another glass of whiskey, looking up when the floor creaked.

His blue eyes scanned over you quietly. You could see the way they roamed up your bare legs, the way he stared at the oversized shirt that silhouetted over your figure. Just for a second you caught a subtle shift in his expression, but he didn’t say anything, he glanced back down at his glass, running his thumb over the rim of the glass. You weren’t sure if his reaction made you feel awkward, but you tried not to notice it, as you made your way to the seat across from him, seeing the food had already arrived and he had waited for you. The charcuterie board was neatly arranged, the sliders looked perfectly cooked, and the fries were still warm, the smell of salt and crisped potatoes filling the air.

“I’m impressed you didn’t rip this entire plate apart.” You said, reaching for a fry, before plopping yourself down on the seat in front of him. Bucky brought his glass of whiskey to his lips.

”Figured it’d be rude if I didn’t wait.” He explained, taking a sip. You hummed in approval, popping the fry into your mouth.

“How thoughtful.” Bucky’s eyes rested on yours for a moment, as he settled his glass down.

”You want some?” He asked, gesturing to the bottle of whiskey. You nodded, grabbing the empty glass in front of you, holding it out for him to pour into. The amber liquid sloshed around slightly, just before he set the bottle back down on the table. You brought the drink up to your lips, taking a small sip, feeling the heat spreading in your mouth, then down your throat. Bucky cleared his throat, gaining your attention.

”I just…I just want to ask.” He hesitated, looking through the glass coffee table at the three scars on your outer thigh. You traced his eyesight, and looked down, “Did I…?” You blinked, caught off guard for a second. He looked like he was bracing himself, waiting to hear another thing he had done that he completely forgot about. You immediately shook your head.

”No,” You replied. “It wasn’t you.” His shoulders relaxed, but the tension didn’t fully leave his face.

”Alright,” He muttered, his eyes still lingering on them, because now he was thinking about who might’ve done it to you.

”Bucky,” You said gently, drawing his attention back up to you, “You don’t have to hold your breath every time you notice something. Trust me, you would’ve known if you caused this.” Bucky nodded slowly, his fingers toying with the rim of his glass again.

“Just wanted to check.” You exhaled softly.

”I get it.” And you really did. His mind was just jumping to the worst-case scenario, as if it was easier for him to believe he was the cause of all the violence you had experienced in your life, rather than realize, for once, he wasn’t to blame.

The two of you continued to pick at the food, trading quiet conversation between bites, until exhaustion started to creep in. You glanced over at the clock, seeing that it was almost 3 o’clock in the morning, groaning as you pushed yourself up from your seat.

“I’m gonna grab the duvet off the bed,” You said, heading towards the bedroom. Bucky watched you disappear before he stood as well, stretching his arms above his head. By the time you returned with the thick duvet and matching pillow bundled in your arms, he had already grabbed a folded blanket from the closet, and was tossing it down onto the floor near the couch. You shifted past him, letting the duvet unravel in your hands, dropping it over the couch, adjusting it as you threw the pillow down on top of it, before sliding beneath the covering, pulling it up to your neck, letting out a sigh at the warmth.

Bucky turned on the television, and left on one of the side table lamps that was closest to him, as he got himself comfortable on the floor beside the couch, shaking his blanket out and carefully lowering himself down with ease, making it clear that it wasn’t his first rodeo. He let out a small groan, turning onto his side so he was facing the muddied infomercials that were on the screen, shifting so he could get comfortable.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the low hum of the television. The infomercials blurred into background noise, a comforting, monotonous buzz against the silence that had settled between the two of you. You lay on the couch, your head sinking into the pillow, but your mind wasn’t quite ready to shut off yet. You glanced over the side of the couch, looking at Bucky who was now laying on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, while his vibranium fingers flexed against the fabric of his shirt.

“Bucky.” You whispered, he hummed, opening his eyes to look up at you.

”Yeah?” He asks, a hint of concern lacing his voice.

“What are you thinking about?” You hear him swallow at the question, watching him shift a bit.

”The usual things I think about. Sometimes I get these headaches, and I get these…Memories of things. I don’t know if it’s from all the mind wiping they did to me, but it’s like it fills in the gaps.” You could see the tension in his jaw, and the way he was running his vibranium hand along his shirt, like he was trying to soothe himself.

”What kind of memories?” You asked softly.

”Not the good ones…It’s always people I don’t recognize, but it’s usually safe to assume I’ve hurt them in some way.” He whispered, “It’s not clear enough to tell. It’s fragments. A voice, a place, a feeling. I don’t even know if they’re real or not, because I don’t remember things completely, you know what I mean?” You nodded slowly, your fingers curling into the edge of the duvet.

”I get it.” You replied, his eyes flickered toward you.

”Yeah?” You exhaled slowly, shifting on the couch so you were in his line of sight.

”Well, I didn’t go through what you did, but after I escaped and defected, I went through a period where I was constantly having nightmares. I was an absolute wreck. I still have moments where I remember things and it scares the shit out of me, because it feels like I’m back there.” Bucky let out a small laugh, but it wasn’t one of amusement.

”Seems like we have something in common, some nights I wake up and it’s like I’m back there being pinned against the new soldiers all over again, getting the crap beat out of me because HYDRA wanted to see if they were as strong as their first prototype.” You could feel a shiver creep up your bones as you moved back a bit.

”I escaped before they could pin me against you.” He let out a slow breath.

”I know…If I can remember anything about you from back then, it’s that HYDRA had a vendetta against you. That’s why when you escaped they sent me after you.” You nodded.

”Because I broke their precious programming.”

”Mmm, and it pissed them off.” He smirked, “They don’t like loose ends.” You laughed a bit.

”No, they don’t. I’m shocked they never found out that I lived through your attack.” You said, digging your nails into your palm.

“When I found out from Steve that you were still alive I thought he was joking, I had never failed a mission. I kept saying that to him too, and he kept telling me you were in the hospital. Still kicking. Recovering from what I did. He never went into detail about what I had done, probably to not add to the psychological torment.” You smirked.

”Yeah when he told me that he told you I was still alive I almost punched a hole through him.” Bucky let out a small laugh.

”Sounds about right…” He paused, still running his fingers over his top, “Can I be honest about something though?”

“Of course.” He sighed, sitting up so he was face to face with you.

”When he told me you were alive I was really relieved.” You studied him for a moment, seeing him push his hair out of his face, “And when he would come see me…I would ask how you were.” You leaned up on your arm, surprised by this admission, taken completely off guard by what he was saying, “He would tell me all the little updates, but he also told me to not show my face or else you would probably kill me.” You raised your eyebrows at him, remembering the times where Steve would casually ask the nurses if there was anything new going on with me, realizing that it wasn’t for him, it was for Bucky.

”Well he wasn’t wrong there…Even in the briefing room yesterday I was contemplating killing you.” You commented.

”Yeah, I could see it in your eyes when you saw me. I knew you weren’t going to be happy to see me, but my goodness I didn’t think you were going to go in so hard on me.” You scratched the back of your neck.

”Can’t really blame me there…I’m sorry for those things I said though, I got really nasty, and I hit below the belt, and Maria was right...I pushed your buttons.” He shook his head.

”It’s okay, I deserved it, and for what it’s worth…I’m also sorry for getting in your face during that whole thing. Should’ve just let you take your anger out on me, just like everyone used to.” For a long moment the two of you just stayed still, facing each other. The room felt like it had shrunk around you, but it wasn’t suffocating at all. Bucky’s eyes flickered over your face, trying to figure out what you were thinking, but he couldn’t find anything. The weight of everything that had just been spoken about beared down on the both of you, but it had softened some of the resentment you were still holding onto. He watched as you sat up, pushing the duvet off you, and before he could ask what you were doing, you wrapped your arms around him, bringing him in for a hug.

Immediately he stiffened, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. You felt so warm against him, that it took a moment to register what was happening, but when he finally pulled himself out of his racing thoughts, he released a quiet shudder, and wrapped his arms around you as well. You weren’t sure why you had done it. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was the weight of everything between you two, pressing in from all sides. But as you held him, you could feel the tension in his body, the way his breathing had become uneven, shallow.

And then, you felt it.

A single shuddered breath against your shoulder. The quietest sniff—so small, so restrained, as if he was fighting against it with everything he had, and then a few warm droplets hitting the fabric of your shirt. Tears. You could feel his arms tighten around you ever so slightly, digging his face into your shoulder like he was shielding himself, or so you couldn’t move back to see him. You breathed in, catching the sweet minty scent of his clothes for a brief moment, as you ran a hand down his back to soothe him. He trembled against you, another sob escaping his throat, muffled by your shoulder.

“I-“ He tried to speak, but his voice was cut off by him breathing in.

”Shh…You don’t have to say anything Bucky…It’s okay.” You whispered, and for the rest of the time you sat there holding him, he didn’t say anything. He just held onto you as tightly as possible.

————

“Bucky. I need you to come in here and zip me up. I’m not flexible.” You yelled, looking at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the tight silk fabric of the dress, pulling it down as far as it could go. You could hear the sound of Bucky’s heavy steps approaching the washroom, before he pushed open the door, buttoning up the sleeves of his black dress shirt that fit snugly against his broad frame. You were surprised at how well he cleaned up, and how good he looked in just a black dress shirt and a pair of dark grey dress pants. It was so simple, yet so…Sophisticated. He glanced up from what he was doing, his eyebrows raising a little bit, a smirk appearing on his lips. You squinted at him.

”What’s that face all about? Hmm? Do you want to wear the dress?” Bucky laughed, shaking his head, stepping closer to you.

“I don’t think I’d fit into it, but I’d love to see you try to get me into one…Now turn around.” You rolled your eyes at his comment, but did as he said, turning your back to him and adjusting your hair so it wouldn’t possibly get in his way. He stepped towards you, his fingers finding the zipper, picking up where you left off. You could feel the fabric getting tighter against your body as he brought the zipper higher up your back, his vibranium hand absentmindedly settling on your waist to hold you still. He sighed, letting you go once he had fully zipped the dress up, catching the way his eyes roamed over your reflection, his teeth briefly biting his bottom lip.

”All set.” He announced, watching as you adjusted the fabric again, seeing his eyes flicking to the scar in the middle of your chest that was poking out from just above the neckline of the dress, his eyes softening.

“Something on your mind, Barnes?” You asked, gaining his attention, drawing him out of his trance.

”No…Just looking.” You raised an eyebrow at him, reaching for the thin gold chain you had placed on the countertop.

”And what exactly are you looking at?” Your tone was playful, trying to settle into the mood you would have to be in the whole night. Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, watching as you fastened the delicate chain around your neck, letting it settle gently on your skin.

”What do you think I’m looking at?” He responded, now leaning himself against the countertop, looking at the way you continued to adjust yourself.

“If I’m not mistaken…It seems like you’re enjoying the view.”You said, reaching for your earrings, tilting your head to glance over at him.

“You’re definitely not mistaken.” His voice was smooth, with an undeniable teasing tone lacing his words. You let out a small huff, fighting the heat that began to creep up onto your cheeks, as you clasped one of your earrings into place.

”You know Bucky, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are flirting with me.” He smirked, turning fully towards you, as his vibranium fingers tapped along the sink.

”And if I am?” He asked, his eyebrows raising, your gaze meeting his through the reflection, as you fastened the second earring.

”Then I’d say you’re laying it on pretty thick.” He laughed a bit, moving closer to you, your body turning to face him now. He looked down at you.

”You wound me, doll,” He murmured, feigning hurt, “Here I am, just trying to be a convincing partner for the night, and you’re saying I’m laying it on too thick.” You scoffed.

”Oh please.” Bucky’s eyes continue to roam over your face, looking at the way your skin glowed under the harsh lighting of the bathroom, the way your lashes framed your eyes when you looked up at him, the way you studied every expression that came up on his face. There was a beat of silence.

“All jokes aside though…You look great.” His compliment caught you off guard for a split second, as you cleared your throat.

”Well. You clean up pretty well yourself.” He hummed, looking at himself in the mirror.

”You really think so?” You gave him a once-over, using it as an excuse to really take in how form fitting the outfit was, tilting your head slightly, pretending to contemplate.

”Mmm, yeah, you look presentable enough.” Bucky let out a dramatic scoff.

”Presentable enough? That’s all I get huh?” His eyes narrowing with playful offense, drawing out a small beat of laughter from you. You reached for your cherry chapstick, not wanting to be too bold for the night, taking off the cap.

”Now, now, don’t be so dramatic, I’m sure there will still be plenty of eyes on you tonight regardless of what I say.” You said, swiping the sheer red colour over your bottom lip, then the top, repeating a few times.

“Is that so?” Bucky mused, watching you press your lips together, as you capped the tube, tossing it into your small bag.

”Let me see, the hostess, for one, probably all the women in the room, and even the men at this point.” You responded.

“I think you may have left someone out in that long list of yours.” You raised your eyebrows at him, adjusting the dress one more time.

”Oh yeah? And who might that be?” You asked.

”You.” He whispered, leaning in down a bit, getting into your space, his sweet, lavender scented cologne invading your senses. You held your ground though, refusing to crack under how smooth he was with his flirting.

”I didn’t know you wanted my attention so badly.” You replied back, leaning in as well, almost like you were challenging him, getting close enough that you were basically exchanging breaths with one another.

“Can you blame me?” He asked. You could feel your pulse gallop for a split second, as your lips parted, trying to find a witty remark to rebuttal with, only for you to stop short. His gaze flicked between your eyes, then to your lips, his blue irises glistening beneath the lighting. You cleared your throat, breaking the silence.

”That depends…Are you going to be like this all night?” He hummed.

”Are you going to let me? Because I can do this all night sweetheart, won’t even break a sweat.” You could feel the heart crawling up your chest. He was testing you, waiting for you to crack, but you just couldn’t give him the satisfaction.

”That’s a bold claim. You sure you can back it up?” He wet his lips with his tongue, his gaze still locked onto yours.

”You know I can.” The tension between you felt electric, humming in the small space that was still between you, buzzing loudly. Neither of you were willing to step back.

”Is that right?”” You murmured, your voice smooth, testing.

”You want me to prove it?” You arched an eyebrow.

”Are you offering?” His vibranium tapped along the edge of the countertop, whilst his other hand brushed lightly over the fabric at the bottom of your dress, barely touching it as he toyed with the hem.

”Hmm. Yeah, I am.” You could feel his fingers trail up just a fraction higher before you grabbed his wrist. The air in the room shifted, an all encompassed heat raising to your cheeks. He smiled at you, seeing the way you broke eye contact, your eyelashes fluttering involuntarily.

“Too much?” He asked, teasing.

“No…We just have to get going.” You replied. He looked down at you for one more second, gently biting the inside of his lip, before pulling his hand away, lifting his hands in mock surrender.

”Right. Wouldn’t want to be late.” You turned away from him, grabbing your bag from off the counter, the warmth of his touch still lingering against your skin. He watched you closely, hearing the shakiness of your breathing that you tried to cover up by making additional noise, but he knew. He tucked his hands into his pockets, a restraint to hold himself back from touching you again.

“Come on…We got places to be.” You announced, walking past him, keeping your eyes off him.

—————

From the street, the neon-red glow of The Velvet Fang’s sign bathed the alleyway in an eerie, seductive light, casting long shadows against the damp pavement. The sign flickered slightly, a heartbeat of crimson against the darkness of the night, drawing attention like a whisper promising something sinful just beyond its threshold. Bucky’s arm was draped over your waist as the both of you made your way towards the security guard, the scent of rain lingering in the air around you, mixing with the distant aroma of cigar smoke coming from the people that lined the alleyway. There were faint looks of exhaustion printed on their aged faces, and small sweat marks staining their shirts. You were thankful you had dressed lightly, because evidently it seemed like it was going to be overwhelmingly warm in the club.

The security guard stationed by the entrance was tall, and broad shouldered, a mountain of a man, with a shaved head, and dark eyes that roamed over you. You and Bucky stepped towards him, and his hard expression barely shifted, he had a tablet in his hand, which shadowed his face harshly.

”Name?” He asked, only looking at Bucky.

”James Barnes.” He replied, his hand twitching against your waist slightly, almost as if he was giving a warning. The guard looked down at the screen, scrolling up for a moment, before clicking on something. He took a moment, and you could see his eyes scanning over something, glancing up at Bucky, then at you.

“Super soldiers hmm?” He had a hint of interest in his eyes, as he continued to scan over whatever he had been looking at moments ago. Of course they did their research, you could imagine what was on that tablet, all the information. You wouldn’t be surprised if they had been watching you since you stepped foot in Vienna. Bucky didn’t react beyond a tight-lipped smile.

”Is it an issue?” His voice was casual, smooth, and non-threatening. The security guard looked up from the screen, letting out a short, gruff chuckle.

”Not an issue, we get all kinds coming here. All we ask is that you don’t start any problems.” Bucky offered a slow nod, his fingers soothing against the fabric of your dress.

”Wouldn’t dream of it.” The guard studied him for a second longer, before his eyes trailed over to you, dragging over your frame in a way that made your skin crawl. Finally, he stepped aside, motioning towards the metal door, sliding it open.

”Enjoy yourselves.” The moment you stepped inside, the heavy metal door groaned shut behind you, sealing off the outside world. There was a dimly lit hallway leading towards a set of stairs, and the thrum of music vibrated through the floor, a slow seductive beat booming under your legs, almost making them turn to jelly. You could smell the distinct scent of musk in the air; sweat, smoky leather…It was as if it clung to every surface of the enclosed space. Bucky still held your waist, as he guided you towards the staircase. Just before you could step down, he pulled you to the side, into the shadows of a small corridor, leaning in to talk into the shell of your ear so you could hear him over the chest shaking bass that continued to grow in volume. One hand settled on your waist, while the vibranium one was pressed against the wall behind you.

“I need you to listen to me for a minute okay?” You tilted your chin up, nodding at him.

”If we get separated, you don’t come looking for me. You don’t wait around. You leave. Do you understand?” Bucky wasn’t just saying this as a precaution, he was saying it because he knew there was a real possibility of things going wrong, and you could hear the tinge of worry sprinkled in his voice, even though he tried to hold it back. You shook your head.

”That’s ridiculous Bucky. I’m not going to run, are you insane? You can’t ask that of me.” He pulled away from you.

“Why do you always have to argue with me Y/N. Just please for the love of god listen to me.” Your jaw tightened, the weight of his words pressed down on your chest.

”You’re asking me to abandon you, Bucky. Do you not hear yourself?” His fingers on your waist twitched.

”I do hear myself, and I need you to hear me too.” You looked up at him, your eyes glistening in the faint red light of the corridor.

”It’s not an option, Bucky. I’m not doing it.” You crossed your arms over your stomach.

”Do you really think I want to be saying this to you right now?” Your arms stayed locked around yourself, a weak shield against the way his words were sinking into you, as you looked away from him.

“I’m not doing it.” You repeated. Bucky exhaled sharply, his hand leaving your waist for a brief moment, before his calloused touch reached your face, his rough thumbs pressing against your cheekbones, tilting your head to look up at him again. It was gentle, yet firm all at the same time.

“Please.” His voice was stripped of its usual steadiness, “Please Y/N. If something happens, I need to know you’ll be safe. You need to just listen to me. Please.” You could feel his hot breath hitting against your face, the all too familiar scent of him wrapping around you, warming your body. You could feel your chest tighten, your pulse hammering away in your throat, as you reached up and wrapped your hands around his wrists.

”Bucky…” His forehead dipped dangerously close to yours, his breath becoming heavier against your skin.

“Please.” He begged again. His voice cracked, almost like how he sounded last night after he had stopped crying, after he apologized for your tear soaked shirt, after he laid back down and said goodnight. You wanted to scream at him, maybe it would make him understand that you didn’t work this way, but it wasn’t going to work…

”…Fine. I’ll do it…” You could feel his breath come out in a sigh, as he pulled back, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss between your brows. His breath came out shakily against your skin, as his thumbs traced over your cheekbones for a split second, before stopping. The action had caught you off guard, but you couldn’t even think, because by the time you had something to say his lips had left your skin.

”Thank you.” He whispered, pulling back from you, his hands leaving your face, his warmth parting from your body. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a moment to recollect himself, his eyes flicking back to yours. You swallowed thickly.

”We should head in.” You said, breaking the silence. Bucky gave a slow nod, holding out his hand for you, guiding you toward the descending staircase, your eyes adjusting to the blood red walls that surrounded you.

The closer you got to the club area, the heavier the bass thumped through your chest, rattling through every bone in your body like a second heartbeat. The moment you stepped through the final set of doors, it was like you had crossed a threshold into a different world entirely. Now the smell of leather, sweat, and something much more heady settled in the back of your throat. It was dizzying.

The inside of the club was dark, you could barely see anything apart from the shadows that were cast from the strobe lights that were going in chaotic bursts, distorting the movement of the bodies that were tangling themselves into each other on the dance floor, but you could barely see. The music wasn’t just loud now, it was vibrating throughout your entire body, almost to the point where it made you nauseous. Your eyes took a while to adjust to the dimmed lighting, as you felt Bucky tense beside you, his hand tightening around yours. You looked over at him, seeing the way his face had dropped, like he was in shock, caught off guard in some way.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky yelled, but it sounded like a whisper over the deafening bass. Your eyes finally adjusted to the lighting, and now your gaze followed his, connecting the dots as to why he looked so tense.

The dance floor was a writhing mass of limbs, hands touching breasts, settling between thighs, exploring each other, mouths meeting in heated kisses, completely losing themselves in the pools of lust and desire. There were booths that lined the outer perimeter of the dance floor that were hardly private. Some had sheer curtains that barely concealed the occupants inside, while others remained entirely open so that the scenes within them were revealed to the rest of the patrons. A man sat back lazily on a plush seat, his fingers tangled in a woman’s hair as she knelt between his legs, while in another booth there was a trio wrapped up together, moving in intoxicating synchrony.

Bucky leaned in close, his lips hovering just beside your ear.

”I need a fucking drink.” You nodded in agreement, as he pulled you towards the bar on the side of the dance floor. You stayed close to him, your hand tightening around his to make sure the both of you didn’t separate in the chaos of it all.

As you reached the bar, the dim glow of the red light bathed the sleek obsidian bouncer top, reflecting against the rows of expensive liquor that was lined up behind it. The bartender, a tall man with slicked back hair tied into a bun, gave an amused smirk towards the both of you, watching as you sat down on one of the stools.

“What can I get you?” You glanced over at Bucky, motioning for him to order first.

”Whiskey…Neat please.” The bartender nodded, turning to you.

”And for the lady?” You hesitated for a second, as Bucky’s hand rested against your thigh, his thumb tracing along the warm skin.

”I’ll have a tequila pineapple. Thank you.” The bartender leaned in closer to you, a spicy cinnamon scent immediately hitting your nose.

”A single or double shot?” He asked, you glanced over at Bucky, then back towards him.

”Double please.” He smirked, moving back to collect the bottles needed for the drinks, and the glasses as well. The bartender moved with an ease only a professional with years of experience would have, pouring Bucky’s whiskey while he poured out the shots of tequila for your drink, then poured the pineapple juice as well. He slid both drinks towards you, and smiled, going to the other side of the bar to take other orders.

Neither of you spoke as you drank, it was as if you didn’t want to talk about what was going on throughout the club. You kept your eyes locked on the glass, taking generous gulps, letting the burn radiate through your chest. Bucky’s hand remained on your thigh, tracing up your exposed skin, as he surveyed the room, trying his best not to be obvious. You could feel the slight flex of his fingers, before he continued to rub gently, like he was trying to soothe himself, and you at the same time. You finished your drink, placing the glass back on the bar, as Bucky moved towards you, pushing your hair away from your ear.

“I think we need to move, if we keep sitting here it’s gonna draw attention.” Your skin prickled under the heat of his breath, and for a split second, you thought you felt his lips.

”Yeah. Okay.” You replied, as he pulled back, his fingers leaving your thigh, offering you help off your stool. He held your hand as he guided you away from the bar.

The moment Bucky pulled you onto the dance floor it was like you were swallowed up by the bodies, but the people around you ceased to exist. His hands found your waist first, as he kept you close to him, making sure you were practically flush against him. His chest pressed against yours, while you found your rhythm, attempting to match the beat, the friction between your bodies growing with every movement you made, while your hands ran over his dress shirt. His warmth seeped into your skin, and you could feel his hot, uneven breath fanning across your collarbone. You felt his hand slide lower, resting on your hip, his fingers curling into the silk, holding onto it for dear life, as his vibranium hand traced up the length of your back, the cool temperature contrasting against the heat of your body. You looked up at him, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth, seeing the starvation behind his gaze, the kind that pinned you in place, made your pulse pound against your throat like a drum. He shook his head at you, leaning to the side.

”You have no fucking idea what you’re doing to me.” He said against your ear, your stomach coiling, burning hot from the words he spoke. His lips ghosted over your jaw, not quite touching, just hovering, trying to tease you into making the first move. His breathing grew heavier the closer he got to your throat, when finally, he gave you a gentle kiss, as if he was seeing whether or not you were going to stop him. You tipped your head back, exposing more skin to him, silently giving him the invitation he needed to continue. His mouth opened against your skin, his teeth dragging over your pulse point, eliciting a gasp from you, his tongue flicking out to taste the saltiness of your sweat.

“Fuck…” He rasped against your throat, bringing his vibranium hand down to press against the small of your back, to bring you even closer to him. You could feel every muscle in his body coiling so tight that he was practically shaking against you trying to keep his composure. His lips trailed up, going past your jaw, and ghosting over the corner of your mouth. Teasing. Testing. Waiting for you to make the first move and break, but you couldn’t…Not yet.

His lips hovered over yours, he was so close that every breath you took became his, the both of you panting. His nose brushed against yours, his lips parting to let out a shaky breath. Through the strobe lights you could see his pupils were blown wide, the adrenaline of the anticipation eating away at him minute by minute.

You let the moment stretch, as your hands slid up his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your fingers, before curling them into the hair at the nape of his neck, your nails dragging lightly against his scalp, earning a small shudder from him. Finally, you brought him down towards you, crashing your lips against his.

The second your mouths met, it was like a dam broke, flooding the both of you with such desperation it almost choked you. Bucky inhaled sharply through his nose, as his hands reached up to cradle your face, anchoring himself to you. His lips were searing, moving against yours like he had been starving for this. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, sucking it gently, willing your mouth to open for him, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. You pulled on his hair, feeling one of his hands leaving your face to rest on your waist, as he pressed his hips forward into yours, a silent plea, and a wordless confession of how badly he wanted you. His lips broke away from yours, only to trail kisses down your jaw, his stubble scraping against your skin, creating a contrast to the softness of his lips as he bit, kissed, and licked a path down your throat.

“Bucky…” His name left your lips in a breathy moan, causing him to sink his teeth slightly into your skin, before sucking gently on it, hard enough that there would be evidence of his mark for the next few days. You pulled on his hair again, feeling his lips drag back up to reclaim yours in a kiss so deep that your chest was burning from the lack of air. His vibranium fingers slid beneath the hem of your dress, skinning the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He was seconds away from dragging you out from the dance floor, seconds away from losing control entirely….

And then you felt a new pair of hands on you, causing the both of you to pull away from one another in a frightened haste.

“Well, well,” A voice purred above the pulsing bass, “Please don’t stop on my account.” Timothy Orkolov said, a smile draped over his lips. His gaze flicked between the two of you, taking in your swollen lips, the way Bucky’s hands had now moved to be more in front of you, so you would be behind him. He chuckled at the sight, swirling his drink around in his glass.

“I must admit, I’ve always wanted to see if it was true that HYDRA soldiers could go all night in the bedroom.” He teased, watching Bucky’s fingers twitching against your waist.

”Careful,” He warned sharply. Orkolov held his hand up.

”Oh come on James. You and your lovely partner here come waltzing into my club, put on a little show, and then you expect me not to comment about it? Forgive me for being curious.” His gaze dragged over you, appraising, assessing, his eyes lingering briefly on the scar between your chest, his lips curling into a smirk, “It’s rare to see two super soldiers together in one room, let alone seeing them in love like this…It’s almost poetic.” Bucky exhaled through his nose.

”Do you have a point to make or are you here to run your mouth?” Orkolov took a lazy sip from his glass, before tilting his chin towards the velvet-curtained VIP section at the back of the club.

”Why don’t we have a chat in private? Clearly you two came for something, I’d hate to keep the anticipation building.” Bucky looked over at you, his eyes still glazed over from your heated interaction, giving a nod.

”Fine. Lead the way.” Orkolov gave a small toothy smile, as he motioned for you to follow him.

The VIP section was draped in velvet red walls, the seating areas had harsh lights above you, where you’d be able to see someone perfectly, but it made your eyes sting from the transition from the dark chasm of the club to this. Orkolov took the both of you to a more secluded area, attempting to find the most private area so you would all be able to hear each other. He gestured for the both of you to go inside first. The room was average, it had a bar, a table, some velvet seats that matched the aesthetic of the rest of the club, and of course it was accented with gold trim wherever it could be. Orkolov roamed over to the bar, humming softly, like he was just having a pleasant meeting between old friends.

”Whiskey? Vodka? Anything to drink for either of you?” He asked, motioning to the bottles of alcohol behind him. Neither of you answered, “Well, suit yourselves.” He added, refilling his glass with whiskey, taking a long sip before motioning to the seats.

”Please. Let’s sit.” You and Bucky hesitated, looking at each other, trying to see what the play was going to be, but you never went through the possibility of having a private meeting with Orkolov. So you took a seat first, watching as Bucky joined you, his body on high alert, sturdy and stiff beside you. Orkolov’s eyes swept over you, his gaze dragging down your body, drinking up the image in front of him, until they settled on the scar that disappeared beneath your neckline. He swirled his drink around in his glass, placing it down onto the table.

”You know,” He mused, “I’ve read so much about the experiments HYDRA did. The enhancements. The conditioning. But you…” He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table, “You’re a mystery to me.” You kept eye contact with him, not breaking, not looking away.

“It’s such a shame they never completed you…” Your pulse pounded in your ears, but you still refused to give him the reaction, “Because that would’ve never happened to you.” He pointed at the scar. You didn’t flinch, and you could see the joy in his face, as he wet his lips, turning his attention to Bucky.

”Tell me James…When you look at her do you see a failed mission? Or the woman you supposedly love? You ever get that itch in the back of your head when you’re laying in bed together at night to finish the job?” Bucky’s hands twitched against his thighs, his jaw locking so tightly that it looked like it was going to shatter. Orkolov sat back.

”I mean…It must be torture, having her so close all the time. Being reminded everyday that you failed your duties to HYDRA.” Bucky’s breath came out slow and measured, but you could feel the rage radiating off of him. You wanted to put your hand on his thigh, but you knew better than to do that at the moment, as he brought his attention to you.

”It must eat away at you sometimes hmm? That no matter how much you love him, no matter how much you may trust him, there will always be that part of him that was given the order to kill you…And that it lives inside him.” You swallowed.

”He wouldn’t do that.” You replied, trying to convince yourself that it was the truth. You wanted to believe it, but there was still the hesitation inside your chest. Orkolov exhaled, a sharp laugh escaping his lips.

”Let me give it to you straight…You can love a blade, you can hold it close, and call it yours, but at the end of the day…It’s always going to be forged to cut. Just like James over here, will always be The Winter Soldier. Plain, and simple.” He smirked, looking over at Bucky, seeing the way his eyes had darkened, “And what will you do…When he finally does what he was commanded to do? When that blade you’re sure of is yours turns in your hand and carves you up all over again?” The words barely had time to settle before your body reached.

Your fist cracked against Orkolov’s jaw, snapping his head to the side with a sickening force, knocking him out of his seat. Bucky didn’t flinch, he didn’t even move a muscle, no protests, no getting up to hold you back, he was blank, almost completely void of anything. The room rang with the sound of a tooth skidding across the floor, and him landing hard against the ground with a thud. For a second there was only silence, you couldn’t feel your hands, it was like you went numb, but you didn’t care. You stood up from your seat, going over to Orkolov who groaned loudly, turning himself over, pressing his hand against his bloodied mouth, a gap showing from where you had knocked his tooth out. He looked up at you, with satisfaction in his eyes, as he coughed, letting the little blood droplets huff out into the air.

“I knew you had it in you.” He sputtered out. You crouched down, wrapping your hand around his neck, pulling him up so he was eye to eye with you.

”If you keep talking I’m going to snap your fucking neck. You may think they never completed me, but I still have the same serum running through my veins, and it burns for the kill. Especially when people run their mouths.” He choked as your hand tightened around his throat, “Now. We came here for information, so keep your end of the bargain, or else I’ll knock the rest of your fucking teeth out of your face.” He wheezed loudly, coughing up blood, the droplets hitting your face, as he moved his head up and down. Your grip on his neck loosened, allowing him to take a breath.

”There’s…A shipment coming in, “ He started, turning his head to spit out some blood that flooded his mouth from where you had knocked out his tooth, “High level assets…The remaining soldiers from HYDRA.” Your hand tightened around his throat again.

”Don’t fucking lie to me.” You spat, feeling him squirm, his hand coming up to hold your wrist, his blood smearing on your skin.

”I’m…I’m not. There’s still…They still exist.” He squeaked out, “Just like you guys.”

”When is it arriving?” He coughed again, more blood splattering on you.

”T-Tomorrow, m-midnight. At the ports on the o-outskirts of the city.” Your grip loosed on his neck, feeling his fingers trembling against your wrists as he struggled to swallow. His jaw was starting to swell up and you could see a faint bruise beginning to form on the side where you had punched, but in his eyes, it still held amusement, that unsettling satisfaction that he had made you crack. It frightened you that you had let the rage come through you again, something that you had tried so hard to control. The serum had given you this innate bloodlust, and you had pushed it down for so long you thought it was gone, then this happened and it felt like you were back to square one. You forced yourself to breathe deeply, as you threw Orkolov back down onto the floor, releasing his neck and knocking the wind out of him in the process.

You turned your head towards Bucky, but he still hadn’t moved, it was like he wasn’t even breathing, his eyes staring off in the distance. You took a step towards him.

”Bucky?” Orkolov let out a hoarse chuckle.

”Look at him…Poor little James, trapped in that head of his. I must’ve gotten to him just like I got to you.” He commented. With your pulse still hammering in your ears, all you could feel was wrong, absolutely sick to your stomach, and you ignored what he had said. Not wanting to get sucked back into the violence that was wanting to come out again. You took another step towards Bucky, crouching down in front of him.

“Bucky…Hey.” Your voice was soft, trying to get his attention, his eyes glazed over, unfocused and locked elsewhere. He still hadn’t moved, nor breathed properly, and it was beginning to worry you. You reached out, your fingers grazing his knee.

”Bucky.” You tried again, making your voice firmer, hoping you could break through whatever fog he was trapped in. Slowly you moved just a bit closer, lifting your hand up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his stubble. His skin was burning hot, but there was no reaction to your cold hands pressing against him, no flicker of recognition in those ice blue eyes. This wasn’t shock or anger that was fueling him to be this way, it was as if he had completely shut down, turned himself off for the world like it was to save himself from doing something stupid.

“Come on…” You whispered, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Orkolov groaned.

”You think you’re gonna miraculously pull him out of this? It’s not up to him anymore.” You glanced over your shoulder at him, watching as he attempted to sit up.

”If you move a single muscle, or say another word…I’m gonna break every bone in your body. Do you understand?” You growled, turning your attention back to Bucky, sliding your fingers down to hold his wrists.

”You’re okay…You’re safe Bucky…I’m safe. You’re in control, Bucky. I know you are.” You could feel your throat tightening, seeing the absence behind his eyes. Your hands squeezed his wrists gently, forcing your presence into him, into whatever place he went to so that he could avoid the pain.

“I need you to hear me,” You whispered, desperation bleeding through your voice now, “You’re not there anymore, you’re not him…You’re Bucky Barnes, now come back to me for the love of god!” Finally, Bucky flinched. It was barely a movement at all, but you felt it against your hands, the slight twitch of his fingers on your skin.

“Come on…” You coxed, tightening your hands on his wrists a little bit more. Your heart was pounding, watching the way his expression slowly shifted, like he was trying to break through, then suddenly you heard it.

”…Y/N?” Your breath caught for a moment, your hands immediately meeting his face against, trembling against his overheated skin.

”Yes, yes it’s me. You’re okay.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, watching as his eyes began to dart around the room, taking in the environment around him, before settling on you again, seeing your skin splattered with blood.

”Jesus Christ what the hell happened?!” His hands came up to hold onto your wrists, pulling them away from him, seeing one of your hands stained with blood as well, “Are you hurt?!”

“It’s not mine, I’m okay Bucky.” His eyes snapped over toward Orkolov, who was crumpled on the floor, smirking through the pain.

”Missed quite the show…She’s got a hell of a right hook. Guess HYDRA really did do something right with her.” He commented, spitting out more blood. He looked back at you, surprised.

”I got what we needed. We have to get out of here though. I will tell you everything when we get someplace safe, okay?” He nodded, slowly getting up from his seat.

”Running away already? And here I was thinking we would have more time together.” Orkolov said, trying to push himself up onto his hands. Bucky stepped past you, moving towards him slowly, before standing above him.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll meet again, and next time, I don’t think you’re going to be getting out alive.”

——————-

When you arrived back at the hotel you didn’t know whether or not you wanted to shower first or call Maria to convey all the information to her. At this point you felt like every bone in your body was on fire, edging with this adrenaline you hadn’t experienced since HYDRA gave you the serum. It was almost mind numbing at this point, and you couldn’t imagine if this was what Bucky would experience when he was The Winter Soldier.

You took your phone out of your purse, dialing the only number that was in it. Hill picked up after the second ring.

”Tell me you have something.” You reached up to rub your face, feeling the crusted blood peeling off.

”There’s a shipment coming in tomorrow at midnight at the ports in the outskirts of the city. Orkolov said there are going to be HYDRA soldiers in it. The remaining ones…” There was a pause.

“Are you sure?” She asked, as you kicked off your shoes, glancing over at Backy who was standing at the kitchen counter, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

“I’m positive. He was too scared to lie.” You commented, moving towards the bedroom, feeling Bucky’s eyes following, as you closed the door.

”That’s good. I’ll have a team en route to you guys by tomorrow evening.” Your grip tightened on the phone.

”Maria…I don’t think it’s a good idea that Bucky and I continue this mission. I don’t think it’s good if we come to the port for the shipment…Tonight wasn’t good for either of us, and with HYDRA being involved…I really don’t think we are in the right state to be there.” There was a long pause as you looked at your hand, seeing the dark crimson blood caked on it.

“You’re asking to pull out?” Her voice was even, but there was a hint of sharpness, maybe even disappointment in it. You pressed your fingers to your temple.

”We’re both compromised Maria…I almost killed Orkolov tonight…And Bucky basically dissociated because he got into his head. We can’t be there Maria…Please don’t send us there.” You begged, your voice cracking at the thought that you were both going to be faced with your past. Maria exhaled slowly.

”Okay…I’ll get you both out, but there is going to be a delay. Probably a day or two. Can you handle that?” You nodded.

”Yes, we can handle that, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Maria was quiet for a second.

”Just get some rest, and I’ll send you the information when everything is confirmed. Stay put and stay off the radar.”

“Understood.” Then she hung up without another word, leaving you in the silence of the bedroom. You dropped your phone onto the bed, before opening the door, seeing that Bucky was still at the counter, nursing his drink.

”Maria is going to pull us out.” You announced softly, coming out of the room. He looked over at you, his jaw tightening slightly.

”When?” You moved towards him.

”She said about a day or two, she’s going to text the information when she gets confirmation.” Bucky nodded, as he brought the glass of whiskey up to his lips, knocking back the rest of the drink in one go, putting it back down onto the counter.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, watching you closely, focusing on the little splatters of blood on your skin.

“Like I’m on fire…I haven’t had this much adrenaline going through me in a while.” You commented, moving closer to him, “How are you feeling?” He shook his head.

”Like my brain is swollen…I feel absolutely exhausted, all I want to do is shower, and try to sleep at this point.” You watched the tension in Bucky’s shoulders settle slightly, the adrenaline crash becoming inevitable.

“You can go first if you’d like. I can wait.” Bucky shook his head, a small laugh coming out of him.

”You should definitely go first…You’re the one that has the blood on you.” He pointed out, motioning to your face and body. In the light you saw the smudges on your arms from where Orkolov held, the remnants of the night clinging to you like a second skin.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You admitted, rubbing at your arms, as you turned on your heel, moving towards the bathroom, pausing for a moment just before you walked down the corridor, feeling Bucky’s eyes on you still. You glanced back at him.

“How about you come with me,” You murmured before you could think twice about it. His eyebrows raised, caught off guard by your offer, not sure if he was hearing you right.

”What did you just say?” He asked, his throat tightening on his words.

”Come with me,” You repeated, softer this time, tilting your head, “Unless you’d rather sit out here alone.” Bucky exhaled through his nose, shaking his head, but the heat in his eyes told you he didn’t need any convincing. Wordlessly, he pushed himself off the counter and followed you down the corridor.

You turned on the bathroom light, motioning for Bucky to come in before closing the door behind you, turning to look at him. He stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets, looking down at you, letting his gaze run over the mess that you had become throughout the night. He sighed, bringing one hand up to rub his forehead.

”Should I turn on the hot water?” He asked, trying to break the silence up a little bit. You nodded, watching him slide open the glass door, and reach for the faucet, turning it counterclockwise. The sound of rushing water filled the space, steam already beginning to slowly rise, making the air in the room just a little bit heavier. He turned himself back towards you, glancing down at your dress briefly, as he brought his hands up to start working on the buttons of his dress shirt, the fabric parting inch by inch.

He was massive. Even after everything, even knowing the strength that came with the bulk of him, it still sent a shiver through you to really see him like this. The thick swell of his shoulders and arms, the defined cut of muscle beneath his skin, every inch of him carved from war and survival. His chest was wide, a few old scars slashing through the ridges of muscle, his vibranium arm gleaming under the bathroom light. His abs flexed with each breath, tight, strong, leading down to the deep v-cut at his hips. He pushed off the shirt completely, throwing it to the side, as he looked at you with anticipation burning behind his gleaming eyes. Slowly, you reached behind you, your fingers finding the zipper of your dress, bringing it down with an agonizing pace, feeling the fabric loosening around you. The dress slipped from your shoulders, pooling at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. You saw his fingers twitch at his side, as his gaze dragged over your body, trying to commit it all to memory. Your arms wrapped around your stomach, not out of embarrassment but from the weight of the way he was drinking in your body, the curvature of your breasts, the faint little scars that contrasted lightly against your skin, the way that your figure was just perfectly yours…It made his heart clench slightly, and suddenly he started to feel like he was overdressed.

His hands went to his belt buckle first, gently unlatching it, keeping his eyes on you as he did it. He slid the leather from the loops, dropping it to the tile with a clink. His fingers quickly returned to his pants to unbutton them, pushing the fabric off his hips and stepping out of it, leaving him in just his briefs. The both of you continued to look at each other, as you slowly closed the space, letting your nerves stir in your stomach.

You reached out, grazing the hard ridges of his stomach, barely touching, just lightly tracing the dense muscle there. You could feel him tense beneath your touch, his hand coming up to slide around your waist, bringing you just a little bit closer to him, the steam thickening around the room.

“…You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, bringing his vibranium hand up to trace down the jagged scar in the center of your chest, the coolness causing your skin to perk up against him, his touch didn’t linger there for long, as it moved off to your ribs, then up to the underside of your breast, cupping it gently, his thumb lightly brushing over your nipple, a soft gasp escaping your throat. A smirk tugged up onto his lips, leaning down so that his mouth was just above the mound of your breast, his hot breath clinging to your skin, savoring the moment before he finally took your nipple into his mouth. You gasped louder this time, your fingers pressing into the muscle of his torso, as his tongue flicked over the sensitive peak, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer to him, sucking gently, pulling his mouth off to blow against the wetness he had created.

”Jesus Bucky…” You moaned, as his mouth went to the opposite breast, wrapping around the perked nipple, nibbling slightly to elicit another gasp from you. Your fingers trailed down his abdomen, slipping under the waistband of his briefs for a moment, teasing him just like he was teasing you, as a groan radiated against your chest, and his fingers dug into your back. He took his mouth off your breast, trembling slightly, your hands trailing further beneath the waistband, his eyes looking up at you, seeing his pupils completely blown out from the tension, as you felt his erection against your palm. His lashes fluttered shut, and his cheeks turned a cherry red, tilting his head back as your hand wrapped around him, spreading his precum along his shaft as you began to slowly stroke.

“Oh fuck Y/N…” He gasped, bringing his hand to your chin, tilting your head up so he could crash his lips into yours. There was such a desperate intensity in the kiss, as he stole the air from your lungs, his tongue immediately tracing your bottom lip, begging for you to open for him, his hips rolling into your touch. You opened for him, feeling the hotness of his tongue against yours, as his hand slid off from your back, and slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear, earning a moan from you, your legs parting slightly for him. You were already wet for him, as his fingers trailed over the slick arousal, teasing your dripping entrance before pushing two fingers in with ease. You almost screamed at the sensation that rocked through you, as his thick fingers stretched you out. He pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his vibranium hand coming up to cup your face, as you started to stroke him faster, with him trying to catch up to your pace, his fingers curling inside you. You closed your eyes tightly, your mouth dropping open as you moaned.

“That’s it…” Bucky murmured, breathless, trying his best to remain dominant, his lips grazing your jaw, “Let me hear you.” He whispered, biting the skin just below your ear. You could feel your pace falter, getting distracted by your own pleasure, feeling this tension beginning to build in your stomach, coiling around every inch of your body, your hand tightening around him. He gasped, biting into the sensitive flesh of your neck, sucking gently on the mark to soothe the sting.

”If you keep doing that I’m not going to last.” He whispered, shuddering against you.

“Then we should…” You paused, feeling your legs shake beneath you from the pleasure that wrecked through your entire body, “We should move to the shower then.” You suggested, looking up at him, your eyes glazed over, just as lust filled as his. He nodded, slowly taking his fingers out of you, pushing your underwear down, with you doing the same to him. The undergarments pooled at both your feet as he wrapped an arm around your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, a surprised gasp leaving your lips, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he brought you to the shower.

The first thing you felt was the boiling water hitting your back, spreading down your skin as he pressed you slowly against the warm porcelain wall, reaching with one hand to close the shower door, the other one anchoring you against him.

His lips trailed down the column of your throat, peppering kisses along your collarbone. He was unrushed with his movements, savoring every inch he got to explore, as his hand caressed the curve of your hip. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with praise, almost like you were his religion, or the most sacred thing he had ever touched. His breath mixed with yours as he captured your mouth in another heated kiss, the both of you moaning in unison, your hands tangling into his damp hair. The taste of him made your head spin. The both of you felt as if you were drowning in each other, but neither of you came up for air, his hand coming up to hold the side of your face. He was the first to pull back, his lips brushing yours one more time before his thumb traced along your swollen bottom lip, as the steam curled around the both of you.

“Open,” He said softly. There was no dominance in his voice, it was just a quiet request, something that was optional, but you obeyed anyways, parting your lips for him. He held your jaw gently, as if afraid you’d pull away, but when you didn’t, he let the moment stretch, suspended in tension, in anticipation, before he let a delicate stream of saliva fall from his lips, into your mouth. The act felt like something sacred, something intimate, as his thumb brushed against your chin, his gaze never leaving yours, watching you swallow. The corner of his mouth quirked up, just barely, before he dipped his head, capturing your lips in another deep, slow kiss. His tongue traced your bottom lip, as if savoring the taste of you before he pulled back, his breath warm against your mouth.

“I need to taste you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, his grip tightening around your thigh, guiding your leg off the side of his waist, helping you regain your balance. His eyes held yours for just a moment, a silent exchange of desire and want, before he leaned forward, kissing along your collarbone, licking the droplets that slid down your body, sucking gently on the skin right at the bottom of your neck. His hands settled on your hips, pressing his fingers into your damp skin, as he continued his journey, exploring every inch of skin he could reach, and you were at his mercy, not that you minded of course. When he got on his knees in front of you it nearly made you choke, his lips kissing along your hip bone, his hand sliding behind your thigh, squeezing it gently, coaxing you to open for him.

”You’re already shaking…” He commented, his lips finding their way to your inner thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin, wanting to mark you wherever he could so when he woke up in the morning he would know that this wasn’t just a dream. Your fingers threaded into his soaked hair, tugging just enough to cause shivers to rush down his body, silently pleading for him. His darkened eyes flickered up at you, his pupils completely blown out, not a speck of blue in sight, as he brought his lips up to your aching heat, placing a gentle kiss, before his tongue dragged along the entire area, your arousal coating his lips.

Your gasped echoed through the shower, feeling him press you against the wall so that you were secure with no possibility of falling, his mouth now completely consuming you whole. His tongue moved with such precision, tracing slow, sinful strokes along you, making sure he was paying attention to every spot that could earn him another moan, or hair pull from you. He groaned against you, his fingers digging into the backs of your thighs.

”Fuck…Y/N. You’re so goddamn perfect. So warm…So fucking sweet.” He whispered, his tongue dragging through your slickness again, “You’re wrecking me…” The vibration of his voice against you made you press your nails into his scalp, shuddering above him.

”Bucky…” You whimpered, pressing him closer, feeling the wet heat of his mouth driving you closer and closer to the breaking point, your hips rolling against his mouth, feeling the heat in your stomach beginning to boil.

“You taste so fucking good…I want to stay here forever.” You moaned at his words, heat flaring through your body, the sound of his desperation causing your heart to flutter, his tongue flicking against your clit.

“You like hearing how much I need you?” Your head fell back against the tile, pulling on his hair again.

”Yes.” You gasped, the pressure inside you mounting in a quickening excess “God, Bucky I love it.” He growled, sending another rush of pleasure through your body, his fingers digging into the backs of your thighs.

”You’re so wet for me…” He murmured, his breath hot against your core, “And I’m going to have every single drop.” One hand slipped from behind your thigh, reaching up to hold your breast, palming it gently, as he slipped his tongue inside you, moving it slowly. You felt like you were on the brink of collapse, all the sensations invading your entire body. He groaned, feeling you push against his mouth, his grip on your breast tightening just a little bit, as his thumb ran over your nipple. You unraveled one of your hands from his hair, bringing it up to hold the back of his.

“Bucky I’m…” You couldn’t manage to get your sentence out as you trembled against him, your breath hitching in your throat.

”I know…You going to come for me sweetheart?” He asked, his mouth now focusing directly on your clit, finding a pace that was so fast you could barely compose yourself before the pressure snapped inside you, your grip on his hand tightening, your nails digging into the skin as you cried out, the overstimulation ceasing your heart. Bucky wasn’t lying when he said he was going to have every single drop, his mouth moved against you like he was starved for it. Your body was trembling beneath him, as he pulled away slowly, looking up at you; his eyes wild…Worshipful even. You collapsed against the wall gasping for air, your eyes roaming over his face. His lips were swollen, covered in your arousal, his hair a mess from where you had pulled on it. He smiled at you, letting out a giddy laugh as he kissed the inside of your thigh, before bringing his forehead to your stomach, his hot breath cooling the droplets against your skin.

”Jesus Christ…” He muttered, half in disbelief, half in complete adoration, as he pressed kisses against every inch of skin he could reach, “You’re still shaking.” He commented, looking up again.

“You absolutely wrecked me.” You replied, your hands reaching down to cup his face, your thumbs running along his cheekbones as he leaned into your touch.

“Mission accomplished.” He joked, feeling your hands guiding him up so he could stand again. He raised from his kneeled position, his hands roaming your body, as he pulled you against him, so you could feel how hard he was for you.

“Bucky…I really need you right now.” You confessed, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. He pulled back for a moment.

”Are you sure?” You nodded instantly, feeling his hands behind your thighs grip, and then effortlessly lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the tiled wall. His arms cradled your body like you were the most precious thing he had ever touched, and that wasn’t far off from the truth.

“I need to hear you say-.” You grabbed his face, forcing him to look in your eyes completely.

”I need you Bucky…Please.” That was all he needed to hear, as his hand left the small of your back, lining himself up with your entrance, your gaze falling on his reaction as he slowly pushed himself into you, his jaw slacking open at the warmth, his eyelids fluttering closed. He leaned forward, placing a kiss against your neck, continuing to push, the both of you savoring the sensation of going slow, taking in the feeling of being stretched.

“H-Holy fuck…” He let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head, “It’s like heaven.” He whispers, looking up at you with his pupils blown out, amazed by the sensation of you fluttering around him, his fingertips digging into your hip as he continued to push forward until he bottomed out in you, a satisfied sigh escaping into the air.

”You feel so good…I just wanna stay inside you like this.” His words sent a shiver up your spine, your nails lightly scraping against the broad muscles of his shoulders. His body was a furnace against yours, and the hot water that cascaded above the both of you made everything feel like it was on fire. His vibranium hand moved up your side, his thumb brushing over your ribcage, then moving up to cup your breast. His lips found their way to the curve of your jaw, brushing over your skin, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses wherever he could. He slowly pulled out just a little before rocking back into you, slowly picking up the pace, keeping his eyes locked onto yours, trying his best to keep the unhurried rhythm he had found. With every thrust it was like he pushed deeper, making sure you could feel every inch of him, your nails digging into his back, dragging down.

“Bucky, you feel so fucking good. “ You moaned, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his as he continued to roll his hips up into you, adjusting the angle a bit so that his cock was dragging across your g-spot, a mangled gasp coming out of your throat at the mind-numbing sensation that shot through you. Bucky felt everything, the way your body clenched around him, the heat of your ragged breath against his lips, the way your nails dug into his shoulders just a little more, and the way you closed your eyes tightly trying to focus on not getting overwhelmed with how he was making you feel.

“You like when I fuck you like this?” He asked, rutting back up into you with just a little more force than before.

”Yes!” You practically yelled, as one of your hands came off his shoulder and tangled it into his hair, “Don’t stop Bucky, please don’t fucking stop.” You begged, desperate for the snapping of his hips against yours to continue. He placed a soft kiss on your lips, pulling back.

”I wouldn’t think of it sweetheart.” He said, a dazed smile appearing on his puffy lips, glancing down at the way he was sliding in and out of you so perfectly, before returning his gaze back up to yours, “You’re so wet for me Y/N, I can’t believe how fucking good it feels…I think I’m gonna want you like this everyday now.” There was such need and longing in his voice that you felt yourself melting against him.

”Bucky, I…I fucking want it all. I want you to ruin me. Take me as your own. Please.”You cried out, as he thrusted hard at the words that fell from your mouth, the tip of his cock grazing your cervix.

“I can do that.” He whispered, his lips finding your neck, pressing you against the wall just a little more as he picked up his pace, kissing along your pulse, letting his teeth graze your skin before sinking in just enough to cause a jolt to shoot through you. You tilted your head back, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the bathroom as he grunted against your neck, his hand grabbing tightly on your thigh.

“God you’re making me lose my mind.” He moaned, breathless from the fast pace he was thrusting into you with, the coil in your stomach tightening, twisting, and burning with a fury of a thousand suns.

”I’m going to come again B-Bucky.” You could barely string that simple sentence together as your body arched into his.

”I know. I’m gonna ruin you just like you asked.” He whispered, his lips finding yours, as the both of you opened your mouths, his tongue teasing yours, his hips rolling at just the right angle so he could drag another moan out of you.

“Bucky…” His name left your lips like a prayer, your back slipping up the wall with each harsh thrust. There was no rhythm at this point, it was just mindless, and all consumed.

“I’ve got you baby. Be a good girl…Come for me.” It only took another deep, perfectly angled thrust before you shattered around him, your body clenching, trembling, lost in wave after wave of pleasure, your walls clenching tightly. Bucky followed right after, his unstable rhythm breaking as he groaned against your neck, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he let go, his grip on you digging into the sensitive flesh of your hips as he buried himself as deep as he could, filling you up with ropes of cum.

The only sounds left were ragged breaths between you, the hot shower water still falling over the both of you. Bucky didn’t move right away, he slowly took his teeth off your shoulder, observing the dark red marks that he had left, a satisfied smile pulling up on his lips, peppering soft, gentle kisses along the damage. You sighed as he leaned back just enough to look at you, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek.

”You’re so fucking incredible.” He whispered, pecking your lips. You smiled at him, your fingers brushing over his shoulders, feeling his arms tightening around you.

“We should wash off…Then give the bed a test drive.” You suggested. He laughed.

”Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

[lovegalor333]

lord please save her for me

paige bueckers x fem oc

story info • chapter one • chapter two

hello baddies! 💋⭐️ nsfw! smutttttt munch fingering all the good stuff cheating 😵‍💫 i don’t want to talk too much but my head is a mess lol and it has been for a while and i have zero motivation to write and everything i do write, i hate. lowkey wish i never started this but i will see it out until the end. love yall x

chapter three:

“i missed the way you taste.” paige mumbled into lenis core inbetween flicks of her tongue. she had leni sat on the couch, legs spread, face buried inbetween while she kneeled on the ground. one hand was planted firmly on lenis thick thigh and she squeezed it each time leni moved, trying to keep her in place. her other hand was tweaking and pinching lenis nipple and the petite girl groaned in satisfaction at paiges touch.

“fuck- i missed this feeling.” leni moaned, head falling back to rest on the couch.

“how much?” paige mused, the vibrations from her words making leni shudder, “s-so much.”

paige pushed up lenis legs so they were bent, feet on the couch, “hold your legs for me len.” paige instructed, placing lenis hands on her calves, keeping her spread out position in place.

her slender fingers teased at lenis folds, already dripping with arousal from paiges mouth, “don’t tease paige.” leni breathed, bucking her hips up needily. “i’ve thought about this everyday for the last year. having you like this again. legs open, pussy calling my name. i’ll tease until you’re crying if i want to.” leni had almost forgotten what paige got like during sex. it had been so long, paiges dominant ways had faded from her memory. but she missed it. salacious words and tight grips, the thought alone made the girls heart race.

paige didn’t tease for long, leaning down she let a glob of spit fall from her mouth straight onto lenis cunt. she spread the saliva around before gently pushing two fingers in. “fuckkk.” her movements started off slow and soft, basking in the feeling of lenis walls finally being around her again. but paiges head was spinning just as much as lenis. she had missed this so much, she didn’t want this moment to end. she wanted to go round after round, all day long.

she was quick to fasten her pace, squelching sounds and heavy breathing filling the room, “shit- keep going paige. don’t stop.” leni urged and she moved her hips, pushing herself further onto to paiges fingers. leni was losing the ability to hold her legs open, arms falling slack but paige didn’t care, she simply held lenis legs open herself as she continued driving into her. with a third finger now in the mix leni could feel the stretch and it made her toes curls and eyes screw shut, the feeling could only be described as euphoric.

“does she fuck you like this?” paige rasped, pressing her thumb to lenis clit. the girl was unable to speak, any words that wanted to come out were stuck in lenis throat and revealed themselves as chocked moans. “i said does. she. fuck. you. like. this?” paige repeated and with each word came a hammering to lenis g-spot. she shook her head giving the blonde some form of response but that didn’t satisfy paige, “say it. say it or you’re not cumming.”

“fuck paige, no!” leni gasps, “no one fucks me like you.” her thighs begin to shake as if speaking had somehow pushed her over the edge, any energy she was using to make this moment last and not finish too quick had gone. “anyone?” paige halts her movements, fingers stationary inside leni.

paige had been lenis first, she knew that and she took pride in it. she wouldn’t have cared either way, she wasn’t a slut shamer but there was something about knowing she was first girl person to touch leni, make her cum, have her screaming her name, that was personal to paige. she had assumed that leni had slept with riley but who else?

“how many people have fucked you since me?” paige asks leaving leni confused and chasing a high that was quickly subsiding. “what?” leni pants, looking down at a kneeling paige. “how many people have fucked you? been inside you but never made you feel the way i do?” she curves her fingers earning a short gasp, “jesus paige! i don’t know, two…three?” “including riley?” she curls her fingers again, “f-four.” “four people and i’m still number one?” “yes paige, fuck yes. you’ll always be number one. just let me cum…please.” leni begs throwing her head back in frustration.

“never forget it leni. never forget how i made you feel. how i make you feel. this pussy is mine, you understand?” leni knows better than to simply nod, “yes, paige.” “good girl.” and with that paige finds her stride again, ploughing into leni with no mercy.

she knew the girls body like the back of her hand. she knew what she liked and she was about to show her that she never forgot. dipping her head down, paige licked her lips before diving into leni sopping cunt. leni had an immediate reaction to paiges mouth, her thighs closing around her head. paige was encapsulated but she loved it, the wetness in her boxers only intensified the harder leni squeezed.

“shit paige- right there.” leni mewled and paige smiled into her cunt as she felt her tensing around her fingers. the moans spilling from the pretty girls mouth and the way her body twitched and writhed on the couch only spurred paige on. she sucked her clit into her mouth and pushed her fingers as deep as they could go. leni was incoherent at this point and paige was in her element.

“gonna- gonna cum paige.” leni choked out as she reached for paiges head. paige wanted to speak, she wanted to talk leni through it but she was trapped by the girls thighs, completely buried in her, she couldn’t breathe let alone talk but she made sure leni knew she was right there. linking her free hand into lenis she held it tight as the girl came undone on her face. thighs tightening, body shaking, a string of curse words being cried out.

paige basked in the reaction lenis body had to her. legs limp and quivering. chest heaving, lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed. “you’re so fucking hot.” the blonde expressed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, edging her way up until she was face to face with leni. she kissed her slowly, hands trailing up her sides as she did. “wanna feel you paige.” leni whimpered as her own hands found paiges waist band, pulling the string on her sweats to loosen them, “im all yours len, go ahead.”

leni and paige switched positions so paige was laid on the couch and leni tactfully pulled down her sweat pants and boxers and they pool at her ankles. leni was never a tease, she couldn’t resist, she didn’t have enough self control to take her time with paige. she pushed her fingers into her own mouth, making them slick enough to slide into paige, “shit len.” paige rasped as her eyes focused on the way leni moved her fingers inside of her.

lenis movements were precise and perfect and her fingers knocked into the gummy spot inside of paige over and over. her thumb rubs circles over paiges clit, making her blue eyes rolling in her head, “fuck leni, right there.” paige murmured and leni listened, focused and determined to make paige cum. “want you to cum for me p.” leni cooed, slipping another finger inside and paiges back arched at the stretch, “im gonna, dont stop.” the blonde begged and again, leni listened. her fingers continued to pound in and out, paiges wetness dripping down and onto the couch. her thumb work was nasty as it swirled and pressed on paiges swollen clit. the athlete had fucked multiple people since breaking up with leni, so many so she’d be embarrassed if leni asked her to put a number on it like she did her. but one thing paige knew for certain was, no one made her feel the way the curly haired girl in between her legs made her feel.

paiges heart was palpitating, stomach tensing and legs twitching as that familiar tightness built in her abdomen, “i can feel it paige, i know you’re close.” leni purred and she lowered her face to paiges cunt, sucking her clit into her mouth and thats all paige needed to push her over the edge. “fuck- im cumming.” she groaned out, latching onto lenis curly bun and pushing her face into her.

leni continued to ride paige through her high, tongue still swirling and fingers still hammering. leni could have continued until paige came again and again but her ringtone rang out from her phone on the coffee table and stopped her in her stride. before the brunette girl could see who was calling her, paige had her phone in her hand and swiped to answer the call, pressing the phone onto speaker and holding it out to leni. seeing rileys contact illuminate the screen made lenis jaw drop.

“hello, len? are you there?”

“uh huh, im here.” lenis voice was shaky as she glared at paige who just smirked back.

“im leaving work early baby, wanted to see if you needed me to bring you anything?” paige rolled her eyes at the use of the pet name and leaned forward so she could reach lenis hand that was just buried inside of her.

“um…no, i’m go-” leni couldn’t finish her sentence because paige had gripped her hand and pushed her wet fingers into her mouth.

“what len? are you ok?”

“mmhmm.” leni tried her best to talk while paige pushed her fingers deeper in her throat.

“you don’t sound it. lucky im coming over, i’ll look after you.” paige rolled her eyes again before hanging up the call and leni immediately pushed her away.

“that was fucked up!” leni fumed, standing up from the couch and pulling on her discarded panties and shorts.

“that was hot.” paige corrected her, also pulling up her boxers and sweat pants.

“paige thats my girlfriend and she on her way here. you need to leave…like now.” lenis quick change of character confused paige and the blonde girl frowned behind her glasses.

“leni. i just ate you out-“

“yeah, you still need to leave. you can’t be here when she gets back.”

“what is happening right now?”

“i don’t know paige. i never know what’s going on between us. you really need to go.” leni wrapped her blanket back around her and she walked to the door.

“have you not heard everything i’ve been saying? i ended it with camilla. i want you, len.”

“i heard you paige. i just need to think.”

“what the fuck was that then?” paige motions to the couch that her and leni were just on. images of their bodies on each other’s running through her mind.

“i don’t know paige. you’re like a drug. i can’t stop but it’s not good for me.”

“so you just fucked me, let me fuck you and now you’re going to play happy families with your girlfriend?” paige was raising her voice now, what was leni playing at?

“stop asking all these questions paige! i don’t know! i don’t what i’m doing! i don’t know what i’m thinking! please just leave.”

“i’ll leave but this isn’t it leni. i know i fucked up back then but i promise you, it’ll be different this time. just trust me, please.” leni was holding the door open, refusing to look at paige.

“give me time.” was all the girl said and paige didn’t argue, she simply kissed lenis cheek and walked out of the apartment.

closing the door behind paige, leni let out a frustrated breath, sinking down to the floor, she rested her head on her knees. she knew she had a decision to make but she had worked so hard to heal from paige and she wasn’t sure she could through that again but there was something about paige that had her in a chokehold. something so consuming and overwhelming that she couldn’t ignore it.

paige was equally as frustrated and confused. with her head rested on her steering wheel, her heart raced and her eyes stung, if she blinked, she was sure she would cry. and that’s how she knew this was different. paige bueckers had never cried over a girl. she’d never cared enough to be emotionally involved but leni was different. she was like no other and it scared paige but she was willing to look that fear in the eye if it meant she got to call leni hers.

thank u for reading baddies! as always let me know if u wanna be added to the tag list 💋

tag list: @unadulteratedcyclepaper @heart4caitlin @jadasogay @avvwritesstufff @bueckersp

story info • chapter one • chapter two

[konpeitonom]

Could you do Daisuke relationship headcanons? Just any in general I’m not picky

general dating headcanons for daisuke.

sfw — lowercase intended ^_^

fem reader —

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; screamed when i saw this in my inbox!! i have not gotten any daisuke specific requests, so i am happy to write for him… i hope i did him welll.. for context you are his girlfriend pre tulpar!

— i think he would have trouble committing to one partner.. he’s no cheater, but he’s definitely like.. a player. saw someone else on here talk about it and i couldn’t agree more. doesn’t mean he’s a bad person per say.. he’s still young and figuring things out.

— getting into a relationship with you however.. he didn’t wanna fuck anything up. he’d do research online on ‘what girls like’, ‘how to treat a girl right’ !! not like his mom didn’t teach him but he wants to go the extra mile, you know?

— i think he’s huge on gift giving.. similar to jimmy he gets you nice expensive things for special occasions (like. a 3 month anniversary. lol.) whether you like that kind of stuff or not. he’s just been told his whole life that’s what girls like! i think overtime though he’ll cater more towards your interests..

— he likes thrifting (canon) so i think once he gets a bit more comfortable with dating you, he’ll start picking up small items that remind him of you. like little trinkets or accessories and he’d be so proud like, “you like this? right? right? do you like it?”

— people say curly would be like a dog but daisuke i feel like is a fair comparison to that too.. he lives off you and your energy! and i can see him as the type to, not get attached quick, but when they do it’s like attached-attached, you know?

— i can imagine he has pretty traditional asian parents, who spoil him nonetheless.. when you first meet his mom he’s so scared she wouldn’t like you!! just be respectful and nice and all that, as long as her son is happy as she says..

— i headcanon that he also likes physical media a lot.. for his birthday you burned him a CD with all the songs that you felt kinda represented your relationship.. and he cried!

— hes rich, we all know this. but shopping for him isn’t hard. just sentimental things or mini figures of his favorite characters or maybe baking him something sweet? he loves all that..

— speaking of sentimental, he’d give you a cute nickname.. like clover, because he feels lucky to have you in his life. and that everything has just been perfect since you walked into it!

— his ideal date would be something like an amusement park, or the fair.. there’s so much for you two to do. and eat. sure it’s expensive but he doesn’t mind!

— that or just shopping.. he loves comic books and would be ecstatic if you guys shared that in common. hes the kind of guy that won’t shut up when he starts talking about something he loves. please indulge in that!! he’d be the happiest man alive.

— i think he’d like to draw too. once you caught him drawing himself as his favorite dc character, and he was so embarrassed he couldn’t look you in the eye for a whole day.

— even with all that, you’re his muse. he’ll draw you when missing you, draw you when you’re right there.. he has a sketchbook full of just his favorite characters and you beside his bedside when he’s on the tulpar.

— it’s a shame he’ll never be able to show you them!

[fluentmoviequoter]

Opportune Growth

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!baker!reader

Summary: While Luca looks for opportunities to expand his food truck business, he doesn't expect growth in his personal life or to meet you, a woman capable of making everything better.

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“I’m on it,” Luca says into the phone. “Hopefully by next week.”

Street tilts his head to the side, a silent request to be pulled into the conversation.

“Yeah,” Luca agrees, laughing. “Thanks, Xiomara.”

“What’s funny?” Street asks when Luca ends the call. “I like funny things.”

“You are a funny thing, Streeter.”

“I’m okay with that.”

Luca shakes his head and playfully punches Street’s shoulder. It’s a slow day at SWAT – though none of them will admit that aloud and risk jinxing – and Luca has been spending more time working on the growth and thriving of Guata-Mama’s.

“I’m looking for some opportunities to expand Guata-Mama’s. Ya know, get more jobs, maybe a more permanent spot,” Luca explains, shrugging as he finishes.

“Like a restaurant permanent or a parking spot permanent?” Street clarifies.

“I’ve been asking myself the same question. Xiomara doesn’t seem to care, she just wants to cook, and now that we have enough help, she can. Right now, I’m focusing on finding some new venues; farmer’s markets, events, stuff like that.”

“There’s a farmer’s market like a mile from here tomorrow,” Street remembers. “We could go scope it out, see how Guata-Mama’s would fit in.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Luca muses.

“Of course it’s not, it’s my idea,” Street counters, smiling. “Plus, you used all the blueberries this morning.”

“There were three left, Street.”

“Tan’s rolling with 50-squad for a hostage situation,” Hondo says as he exits the situation room. “What are you two doing?”

“Planning a takeover of Los Angeles,” Street answers. “Guata-Mama’s will be the only name that matters.”

Luca smiles as he rolls his eyes. “I’m looking for new opportunities.”

“Well, this is the right city for that, my man,” Hondo encourages.

“I feel underdressed,” Street says through his teeth as they enter the farmer’s market.

Luca taps his elbow against Street, then gestures toward a juice vendor. The man is wearing a light kimono, board shorts, and sandals.

“Never mind,” Street adds. “Just rich, overdressed customers then.”

“I’m gonna go talk to a few of the vendors, get a feel for what it’s like,” Luca explains. “You coming with?”

“I’ll catch up,” Street mumbles, his eyes locked on a booth farther down the transformed parking lot.

“Sure, you will,” Luca agrees facetiously.

He walks between tents and fruit stands, smiling and greeting people as he approaches a strip of food trucks. A breakfast truck offers pancakes on a stick, a smoothie/ice cream hybrid truck appeals to health nuts and sweet tooths, and a sandwich truck is parked between them. Around the corner, tents sell homemade food – everything from customizable organic trail mix to fresh bread.

“Good morning,” Luca greets as he approaches the Juice Cream Dream truck. “I was going to ask if I could speak to the owner, but now I think I need to order two blue line smoothies.”

“You an officer?” the woman in the truck asks.

“I am. How’d you know?”

She shrugs and says, “The owner is picking something up, he’ll be back in five minutes, maybe less. I’ll let him know you want to talk to him.”

“Thank you,” Luca replies, retrieving his wallet.

“It’s on the house,” the woman interjects. “Wendall, my boss, told me never to let an officer pay for a drink he made for them.”

She passes Luca the smoothies and tells him to let her know if she can help with anything else.

“Luca!” Street calls as he returns. “There’s an artist over there who painted a picture that looks like- why do you have two smoothies?”

Luca offers one to Street, and his story is forgotten as he takes the first drink.

“That is incredible,” Luca says after taking another sip.

“And it’s got a blue line,” Street muses. “What is the blue line?”

“Blueberry,” a man answers. “Sorry for interrupting, gentleman. My name is Wendall, I was told you wanted to speak with me?”

“I do,” Luca replies, offering his name and hand. “I own a food truck and I was wondering if you’d be willing to share your experience here with me.”

“Of course.”

“I will be at that bakery tent,” Street tells Luca. “Nice to meet you, Wendall.”

“Good morning,” you greet when someone enters your tent. “How are you?”

“Better now,” the man replies. “It smells amazing in here.”

Your smile grows as he begins looking at the labels on your fresh baked goods. Since you opened your bakery, you’ve found immeasurable joy in seeing people enjoy what you make. When you started vending at a farmer’s market, that joy grew. Being face-to-face with customers like this beats being in the back of your shop, you think, even though you love every aspect of your job.

“Looking for anything specific?” you inquire.

“Well, now I’m trying to narrow down what I want because everything looks amazing,” he replies. “Can you recommend anything?”

“Depends on what you like. The raisin scones are my personal favorite, but the butter croissants and maple cookies are well-loved.”

Another man enters your branded tent and sends you a devastatingly beautiful smile.

“Luca,” the first man says, “we need all of it.”

Luca, you repeat to yourself, drawn to him and his name for a reason you’ll probably never know.

“Good morning,” he tells you. “Sorry about my friend.”

“He’s a great customer so far,” you say lightly, smiling at the man before you.

Luca hesitates, desperate to talk to and be near you for as long as possible. He tries to shake the feeling, but it lingers, like a cloud of impenetrable smoke separating the two of you from the rest of the world, blind to reality around you.

“I’m sorry, is your name Luca?” you ask. “You wouldn’t happen to be Dom Luca, of Guata-Mama’s, would you?”

“Dude, she’s heard of you,” Street gushes. “You’ve made it.”

“Yes, I am,” Luca tells you, sending a look to Street. “You’ve heard of it?”

“It’s the best food truck in LA, of course,” you answer. “I’ve been hoping to see the truck at a farmer’s market.”

“That’s actually why I’m here. I think Guata-Mama’s would do well here.”

You nod and pull a folder from beneath your table. “Here is the contact for the director,” you offer, extending a piece of paper. “He’s a great guy, really down to earth and just looking to make local food and businesses accessible.”

“Thank you,” he says, folding the paper carefully to stow it in his pocket. “How long have you been selling here?”

“Not long. I’ve got a brick-and-mortar place, and I thought it was time to get out of the bakery every once in a while. Business is good here, so it worked out.”

“Looking at your product, I’d imagine business is good all the time.”

Luca smiles and ignores Street’s low whistle. You match Luca’s smile as your cheeks warm.

“I know you own Guata-Mama’s but is that your primary job?” you ask.

“No, we’re LAPD SWAT. The truck is more of a passion than a job,” he explains.

“I love that. And thank you for keeping LA safe. A friend of mine was at the flower market shooting a while back, and I heard SWAT was instrumental in keeping those people safe.”

“I made a decision,” Street interrupts.

Luca turns toward him, and his brows raise when he sees Street’s arms full of boxes.

“You do not have to buy everything I mentioned,” you tell him. “You know that, right?”

“I’m not,” Street assures as Luca takes a few boxes. “These are just the things I couldn’t say no to.”

Luca knows the feeling; he can’t imagine saying no to you either.

“If you’re sure,” you say, giving him an out.

“Very sure,” Street answers.

You make more small talk as you ring up the items. After applying a hefty discount, Street pays for the items as you put them in a large canvas bag. You then draw a business card from the stack beside the iPad you use as a register and write your name and cell phone number on the back.

“This is for you,” you tell Luca, sliding it to him.

“It was nice to meet you,” he says after he sees your handwritten note on the back.

“Enjoy the food, and hopefully I’ll see you around.”

You will, Luca mouths as he follows Street out of the tent.

3 Weeks Later

Luca unlocks his phone again, smiling as he taps the screen.

“Okay, what is up with you?” Tan asks. “You’ve been looking at that phone nonstop all week, and you haven’t acknowledge a single one of Rocker’s stupid insults about double date night.”

“Probably because they don’t make sense,” Deacon interjects. “Although, Luca, he’s got a point, you’ve been… in the clouds, lately.”

“Ooh,” Street teases. “Everybody knows something is up with Luca, and I’m the only one who knows what it is.”

“You know?” Tan asks, turning toward Street. “What is it?”

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because we’re friends and he’s on my team.”

“I brought muffins,” Luca says, changing the subject to one thing he knows his team can’t ignore: food.

Tan follows Street toward the kitchen, pestering him about giving away Luca’s secret. Deacon, however, stays with a knowing look.

“Baked goods, huh?” he asks. “That’s not really your specialty, Luca. Or something you’d go out of your way for, unless someone made them more appealing.”

“Maybe I just got them at the store,” Luca counters.

“You’d never feed us store bakery goods.”

Luca sighs and nods. “She owns a bakery.”

“And it’s been, what, a month since you met?”

“Three weeks.”

“You really care about her.”

“I think I love her, Deac. This is different than anything I’ve experienced before. It’s like she’s a magnet, an addictive drug, I don’t know, but I can’t go long without thinking of her.”

“You’re telling the wrong person,” Deacon points out. “I’m happy for you, Luca. And I’m willing to bet that this woman feels the same, this isn’t like your past relationships.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Let’s go to dinner,” Hondo says as he closes his locker. “I’m in the mood for not having to cook.”

“I’m in,” Tan agrees.

“Me too,” Street adds.

“Annie’s sister is watching the kids while she prepares a deposition, so I’m free,” Deacon says.

Luca checks his watch before he answers. “I have to run by a new store to get some ultra-fine milled whole wheat flour.”

Tan’s eyes widen dramatically. “No way.”

Deacon and Street nod, and Hondo looks between them and Luca several times.

“Is that a special flour, or?” Hondo inquires, lost.

“Don’t focus on the flour itself,” Deacon says. Hondo raises his fingers from his backpack strap in question. “He’s going to a special store to buy a specific ingredient for something he wouldn’t use.”

Hondo considers Deacon’s explanation for several seconds, then asks, “A girl?”

“Not just any girl,” Street replies, “a baker.”

“My man!” Hondo cheers. “When were you going to tell us?”

“He didn’t have to tell us,” Tan teases. “We figured it out without a lesson in romance from Deac.”

“Pipe down,” Deacon interjects.

“Get the flour and then meet us at the restaurant,” Hondo tells Luca. “We need to plan to meet this baker that swept Luca off his feet.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Street says as they exit the locker room, ignorant of Luca’s phone buzzing again.

[jesncin]

A Queer and Asian review of Xanthe Zhou + Spirit World

I haven't exactly been thorough about how I specifically feel about Xanthe Zhou as "representation" for people like me and a part of me didn't want to be too harsh since they're a fan favorite and I'm sure the writer did their best and what not- but there is this sense of "I'm not even whelmed I'm underwhelmed" by Xanthe as a character. I don't dislike them, but I can't say I'm a fan if I don't find them particularly interesting.

I'm sure for a lot of people the idea of a Chinese non-binary anime sword wielding, bomber jacket wearing, shaved cut having, envoy between the living and spirit world character is a novel concept. But when you've lived the reality this character attempts to represent (ghosts and spirits are a tuesday where I'm from) and have sought out that representation from within your own communities, Xanthe pales in comparison like a really corporate product. So I want to talk about intersectional storytelling and what a holistic queer Asian superhero could look like.

Again I'm aware Spirit World was written by a queer Chinese author (+ an all Chinese team) and as a fellow author who has to navigate mainstream publishing and deal with attempts at sandpapering authenticity for capitalism I want to stress that I Get The Struggle. But I'm allowed to be critical of how the final product turned out. Some of this is subjective musing even.

Here's the premise of Xanthe Zhou's character: When Xanthe was a very tiny kid, they were run over by a car when they were walking alone at night in the rain. They're resurrected by a powerful spirit called Po Po to be the half-dead, half-living Envoy of the Spirit World.

Everything about Xanthe is exhaustively corporate for me. Like industry planted representation designed to be as safe as possible and attempts at being intersectional are limited. Spirit World features Cassandra Cain Batgirl and John Constantine Hellblazer because that's how we get Asian and queer DC fans to hop onto out new queer Asian character! Xanthe doesn't get to stand out in their own world, or have an established cast system the way Kong Kenan gets to. Spirit World suffers from being a follow up to an Event comic, with all these characters crossing over- but it didn't rise to the challenge of including Batgirl and Johnstantine in meaningful ways. The story would've been better if they were replaced by characters unique to Xanthe's cast system.

I've become pretty cynical about scenes like this one. It's a scene where Xanthe is forcefully invited to have dinner with their family they haven't seen in years. The transphobic dinner pages made rounds on social media because "ooh look at John Constantine gendering a non-binary person correctly even when Xanthe's family keeps misgendering them", and "whoa even the magic system respects a trans person's name". It's free marketing, you can see comments on these posts asking what comic this is from to read more. People will start discourse over "Constantine going woke" and the defenders will pull up receipts that "John has always been a lefitst" and so on and so forth. I saw the promos for Spirit World, but these panels were what piqued my interest early on.

My twin and I were taking turns reading Spirit World- Jes asked Cin (who finished reading first) "so what about that transphobic dinner scene? Was it there? Are there other scenes that talk about it?" and Cin said "nope that's it. The rest is magic fight scenes and spirit world stuff." And honestly that feels calculated. It's like that Jenny Nicholson Star Wars Hotel thing: "whoa if they have this droid and this animatronic alien performer, imagine what else they have!" but nope. That's it. Just enough to fit in a tik tok promo. Just enough to fit in a tweet and make rounds. It's not like Alan Scott's Green Lantern solo, where his queer identity isn't limited to one scene designed to go viral. The whole narrative holistically discussed what it was like to be a gay man in that era. Spirit World on the other hand felt like it had a representation quota to fulfill before moving on to the generic Superhero Stuff- an entirely separate plot.

Then there's Xanthe and John. As a Hellblazer purist I already knew this was going to be a hard read for me since I'm not a fan of DC!Constantine but I've talked before about how Spirit World still has that appeal for me because sometimes og Hellblazer is a pain to read as a person of color. Maybe I can enjoy the fantasy of Constantine being an ally to an Asian person instead of fetishizing them like he did in those old Vertigo comics (people love to leave that out when they're defending Constantine as an ally but whatever). And people kept talking about how this is an elder and younger queer friendship dynamic and I love those.

So where was that? Sure, John genders Xanthe correctly over transphobic dinner and comforts them afterwards. But nothing he says or does is specific to a queer elder. Any ally or character can say these things or do these gestures. He doesn't speak from personal experience about how "it gets better" or "I know what it's like" it's just. "yeah throwing up in Gotham is great I do it all the time". Excuse me if I don't think that's substantial.

Ooh but the ghost of Johnstantine's ex boyfriend Oliver showed up! And then there was a bi joke about how John hooks up with a clone of himself a "dozen times" because he's such a slut amirite, gays. Diversity win. I expected bi jokes from DC!Constantine but marketing this as a queer narrative or generational friendship is a stretch.

Spirit World would've been a more holistic queer narrative if Wan Yujing, the villainous corrupted spirit that wanted to be remembered properly (or reincarnated, depends on the writer's mood)-was revealed to be a queer person. This would've been a fantastic opportunity to recontextualize Xanthe's personal transphobic encounter with their family into a larger systemic theme of queer historical erasure. The original meaning of a "dead name" is the idea that when a trans person dies, their family will put the wrong name on their grave. It's literally their "dead" name, erasing their legacy in writing. So why not include that in your conflict?

Wan Yujing is revealed to be a famous poet, slowly forgotten because "time erodes everything" (vague and bad writing btw). Why not pitch something more motivated and specific? Make it so that she wrote queer literature that was destroyed. Make it so that her lover was rewritten in history books as her "friend". Then when Xanthe makes the promise to remember Wan Yujing as she truly was, it'd be a holistic act of queer recognition and solidarity. But instead the resolution is just Xanthe Zhou promising "hey I'll remember you" and Wan Yujing just takes their word for it.

Can we talk about the huge missed opportunity of what this dialogue implies? Xanthe proclaims that they are both living and dead, granted the living's power to remember and the dead's immortality. Why was this not thematically paired with their experience as a non-binary person struggling in a cis-heteronormative world. Heck, why not pair this with how they're a queer Asian American, a perpetual foreigner wherever they go? Not Asian enough for traditional spaces, but not white enough for a majority of queer American spaces. Are we worried we'll scare off the white audience if this got too intersectional?

Xanthe gets more fleshed out under a different writer (Jeremy Holt) for one of the DC Pride stories (2023). Here, Xanthe talks about how being in the land of the living feels like going about a routinic obligation; "Reminding me that home isn't necessarily where the heart is". This is so much like the disassociated way trans people go about life before figuring themselves out. It's also like how a perpetual foreigner doesn't fit in anywhere. But it's not paralleled to that experience. The fantasy aspects of Xanthe Zhou the Envoy, are completely separate from the very few personal civilian parts of them. Like they're a Superhero first and a person second. The later half of this story gets overtaken by a team up with Batwoman, because once you have a new character set in Gotham you are at the whims of being absorbed into the greater Batfam conglomerate.

There's interesting concepts at the center of Xanthe's character. But it's hard to give credit to writing that doesn't follow any of that through. Xanthe's a hero motivated by making sure the dead are remembered and respected. That's a decent motivation in general, and a pretty resonant one for a queer hero-but everything surrounding the execution of that idea feels so half-assed to me. Xanthe's origin story has so many plot holes, it feels like it was thought up in 5 minutes.

Why was their death just some random car accident and not something more motivated? Why did the all powerful Po Po decide to resurrect them specifically? Where's the tension in any of the many excessive fight scenes in Spirit World, if Xanthe's apparently immortal? Also they age? What are the stakes for a character like this? This isn't even covering the shoddy writing for their transphobic family drama (Why did they just stalk their family after being resurrected? Why did their mom recognize them even though they've been gone and have aged for 15 years? so many questions ugh).

(why was this toddler walking around alone in the rain with their own umbrella. In Gotham. What is this-)

I casually propose that instead have Xanthe's origin be that they died as a runaway trans teen who went missing and was murdered. Maybe because the way police and society in general don't look into the disappearances of trans poc, Xanthe's death went completely unnoticed. Maybe as Xanthe's dying, Po Po sees their determination to fight for the forgotten and chooses to resurrect this kid specifically. Then we'd have a really motivated origin story that ties their identity to their heroism. Instead we get these over the top fantasy concepts + transphobic dinner with my talisman wielding mom.

Spirit World is a fun enough action fantasy with troubled pacing and generic MCU-quippy dialogue. It's so overwhelmed by it's own spectacle that we don't get a chance to get to know our new hero. What is Xanthe's character development? What flaw do they grow out of or overcome? If I'm honest outside of the attempt at quippy banter, what even is their personality? The ending is rushed; not only is the conflict resolved with Xanthe just promising to remember a dead poet, but they also make a deal to work with the Spirit World authorities. Because it's always so fun to watch queer people assimilate to the powers that oppress.

In one of these action sequences, I guess the writer decided there needed to be a semblance of themes to make it feel like the readers' time isn't being wasted. So while Cassandra Cain Batgirl from Detective Comics and John Constantine from Vertigo Hellblazer are holding the giant anime sword, Xanthe goes on an internal monologue about how change is natural and people's fears make them resistant towards it. Xanthe says that to embrace magic, "you need to look at everything you think you know about the way the world should be...and imagine something new."

It's a nice sentiment that isn't reinforced by anything else in the story, but it does make me think. What is "new" about Xanthe Zhou to someone like me who seeks out representation like this? I've seen queer characters with the shaved hairstyle, I've seen queer coded Asian girlies with the bomber jacket, heck I've even seen the giant anime sword. I kinda cringe at seeing "giant spiritual sword" at this point even. But you know what I don't see as often? In real life I've seen the bravest Asian queer people reclaim cultural hairstyles, clothing, practices and beliefs (that originally excluded them). I've seen them join communities and create entire subcultures and lingo in a way that would be unrecognizable to the typical queer readers who enjoy Hellblazer-but I certainly don't see it reflected in fiction a lot.

(Is it really new if I've seen it in a Disney movie)

The premise of a Chinese American non-binary half-dead-half-living Envoy for the dead is something so metaphysical in its intersectionality, world building, stakes and themes that it would require Sandman-levels of out-the-box creativity to pull off. Which is why getting a generic action adventure (+ one scene about transphobic dinner with the family) feels so disappointing. I wish Spirit World took its own words to heart; I wish it took everything we're used to, everything we've known about how the world is and dare to imagine something actually new.

[foundnthestars]

!!!! Hi mootie!!!! I have A Thing

SO. I'm a firm believer in Dipper "make a list or plan for absolutely everything" Pines leaves notes for himself around the house CONSTANTLY

Do you think Ford would stumble across them? When he least expects it, opens a cabinet, lifts a cup, and there's a little folded scrap of paper with "Stan's favorite cup, always put back top side down!" Underneath? Do you think he opens a drawer looking for a pen and finds a little "Out of double A batteries, ask Soos to get more!" Perched on the top? Do you think he learns about his nephew this way. Do you think he feels bad

(Hi Sky I hope ur having a good weekend!! :] Awful weather up here, hoping yours has been a little nicer!!)

hi there!!! as always, i loveee your contributions to this au, and this whole Thing in particular will be something so important to ford's arc in ttwl!

i think similarly to how ford haunted dipper's narrative over the summer, dipper will haunt much of ford's waking and sleeping life over the next couple years. i mentioned in the last post the idea that ford will stumble upon some of dipper's old "who is the author?" notes all over the place, and these would definitely be among the most impactful artifacts left behind for ford. like, he's heard from mabel and everyone else just how much dipper revered him, but to see the proof left behind is another thing completely. he reads dipper's scrawl in the journal, the entry after he'd successfully captured a gremloblin, and feels sick to his stomach at the words "I wonder if the Author would be impressed."

and then there's the other stuff too, the evidence of dipper's life that is separate from ford and dipper's summer-long curiosity over him. there are the banal things — the things that anyone else might just overlook. these are the lists and notes. the "i am pretending to write something down" clipboard ditched in the deep recesses of a drawer somewhere, the paper crinkled and forgotten. a note left behind for wendy taped to the cash register, "stan's orthopedic back pillow: living room cabinet, top shelf to the right." or, "mabel+grenda+candy sleepover tomorrow, buy earplugs" left somewhere in the living room. a four-pack of pitt cola forgotten back in the fridge, labeled "DIPPER'S! DON'T TOUCH, MABEL!"

he grows an inexplicable fondness for dipper in this quiet, recordable existence he's left behind.

but why stop at notes and lists? here are some other ways dipper haunts the mystery shack and ford's life!

there's a slight indentation in the wall with another one just a millimeter higher up on the wall, right around mabel's height. next to the marks are some hastily scribbled measurements and the kids' initials, written in his brother's famously indecipherable script

a copy of The Case of the Caper-Case Caper, one of Ford's old personal favorites when he and Stan used to read the Sibling Brothers as kids

a waste bucket full of broken, bleeding blue ballpoint pens

there are scratch marks over the eye of his stained glass triangular window, crafted with his old muse in mind, up in the attic, as if someone had frantically tried to scrape it off with a sharp object of some sort

(hi copper!! my weekend's great, hope you're having a good one too!! it's been rainy here off and on, but we definitely need it!! hope the weather gets better where you're at!!)

[wingsofachampion]

OOC

I'm going to preface this by saying that I'm not mad at anyone. I love the Pokemon IRL community, and I'm so so happy to be a part of it. And I don't plan on leaving for good anytime soon.

But. Look.

This is getting out of hand.

I've been here since November of 2022, and I haven't seen things being this bad in the community since The Incident.

I'm trying as hard as I can to hold things together, even when it seems like everything's falling apart. But it's getting really exhausting.

So that's why I'm making this post.

There's a lot of problems happening in this community, and I'm going to try to address at least a few of them in this post.

So, here we go.

Part 1: Anon Hate & Other Harassment

There's unfortunately a lot of this in the community. I've been a victim of it myself.

Anon hate is a serious problem that has led several pokebloggers to completely disable anon asks or even leave the community entirely.

I'm not sure how to combat this, unfortunately, other than blocking them as they come, but that's an imperfect solution.

There's also been direct harassment, too, not just through anon asks. I'm unsure how to tackle that either, but I'm spreading awareness just in case.

Part 2: Lack of Engagement

There's a ton of blogs that get little to no engagement, and not for a lack of trying. Pixelated made a great post on this already, so I won't rehash it much.

My main advice is to send asks. That goes both ways. If you see someone struggling to get engagement, send them an ask, brighten their day!

And if you're struggling to get engagement, send asks to as many blogs as you feel comfortable. That way, you put your name out there.

I know it can be scary to send asks, but if it helps, you can send one to me! I won't bite!

Part 3: "Cliques"

There's a lot of subcommunities in the Pokemon IRL community. Eebydeebies, Fallers, Blueberry Academy, and so on. And that's great! What's not so great, though, is how some of these can be rather cliquey.

Sometimes, it's hard to join a subcommunity. Sometimes they push you away, are just difficult to fit in a new blog, or something else.

I've been trying to remedy this in the eebydeeby subcommunity by having Gen send asks to every new eeby blog I can find, but I'm not in every subcommunity, so I can't do this for all of them.

What I suggest to remedy this is, those in subcommunities, reach out! If you see someone trying to join, reach out and welcome them in! Send them asks! Tell other people in the subcommunity about them! Let them know that they're welcome there.

Part 4: Lack of Warnings During MMM

This one is something that mostly just affects me personally, but Muse Mixup Madness has been extremely stressful for me because people keep completely changing up their blogs with little to no warning.

One of my worst triggers is post-apocalypse, and I've been jumpscared by this several times during Muse Mixup Madness by blogs that were previously safe.

Please warn what your Muse Mixup Madness stuff will contain, and please use content warnings, too.

Part 5: New Blogs Dying

This is one of the ones I'm saddest about. Almost every day, there's at least one new person trying to join Pokemon IRL, but 75% of the time their blog dies within a week.

I recommend supporting newcomers as much as you can. If you see a newcomer, send them an ask! Interact with them! Boost them if you feel comfortable with it! Don't let them feel so discouraged that they leave so soon.

I recommend checking the reblogs on realpokemon's pinned post every so often. It's a fantastic way to find new blogs.

Part 6: Exhaustion & A Call for Help

I've been trying very very hard to fix things, but I'm only human (as much as I wish I was a Meganium). I can't do everything by myself.

So I'm asking for help.

I have two blogs primarily made for boosting. @pkmnirlblogboosting and @tacklrnews. Former is OOC, while the latter is IC.

Pkmnirlblogboosting is for boosting blogs that either have less than 75 followers, or are less than a month old. If anyone wants to help me run it and boost blogs, feel free to send me a message asking if you can be added to pkmnirlblogboosting.

Tacklrnews is for reporting on events that are happening in-character. Its primary purpose is to boost stuff happening on people's blogs that they want more people to see and interact with. If anyone wants to help me with this, feel free to send me a message asking if you can be added to tacklrnews.

A caveat with tacklrnews: It's fully in-character, so you'll need to create a character for it to be a part of Pelipper's little news agency. It also writes articles on Pokemon RPC and Pokeask blogs, so to people in those communities, this offer is open to you all, too.

I hope these will both be helpful in revitalizing the Pokemon IRL community.

Part 7: Moving Forward

So, how do we move forward?

I think we should be more supportive towards others in this community. Less OOC anon hate and harassment, more engagement and boosting. Tell your fellow blogrunners how much you appreciate their blogs! Let them know they have people who care about them.

I love this community so, so much. I don't want it to fall apart and die. I'm doing everything in my power to keep it standing, but I'm just one person. I need your help, too.

Together, we can make this community better.

That's about all I had to say.

If you've read this far, thank you. I really appreciate you taking the time to read through this.

I'd appreciate any reblogs to spread this around, but don't feel pressured to if you don't want to.

I hope you all have a wonderful Pride Month.

-Bench

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter Notes: I'm really nervous with the direction my muse has taken with this story. I hope I can pull it off. LMK what you think, please.

Previous chapter:

"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"

Chapter 3

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Bucky's a jerk, Sharon Carter sucks

Cookie looked at Bucky with a deep exhaustion caused by researching all night and early morning briefings with the top agents to figure out what to do with Sharon while Bucky was her guard dog. Maria was ready to tear into him. Cookie cleared her throat to gain Maria's attention then made a small shake of her head to ask her to back down, Cookie knew she could handle Bucky by herself.

Maria nodded and left to sit in her office across the hall, leaving the door open just in case.

Cookie straightened her shoulders and sighed "How can I help you Sargent Barnes?"

Bucky glared at her breathing heavily "You know damn well how you can help me. Who the fuck do you think you are making accusations at Sharon like this?" He waved the report in her face until she grabbed it and tore it from his hands.

Holding the partially torn report Cookie stood up to her full height, her heels bringing her eye level with Bucky. She stared at him in his cold blue eyes to show him she wasn't intimidated by him, then walked around her desk to close the door "I don't think it's wise to leave the door open while we discuss top secret intelligence."

She returned to her chair "Please have a seat Sargent." took a deep breath and spoke calmly

"I think, no I'm damn sure I'm the lead east coast Intel analyst who was hand picked from Quantico by Nick Fury while you were still on ice with Hydra, who kept our intel operation running during the Blip while Nick Fury, Maria Hill and....hhmm, oh that's right, You, were all dust in the wind. None of my conclusions were specious and I followed the facts, without prejudice, as my job requires. This has less than nothing to do with your personal, ahem, entanglements. There's solid evidence to back up every claim."

Bucky shook his head "Bullshit. You've been acting put out since I rejected you and found a way to hurt me back. You obviously faked the proof. You better fucking retract this garbage and clear Sharon's name."

Cookie scoffed and shook her head "No Barnes. You're the one who lied to me and decided on your own to end our friendship but this has nothing to do with that." she turned away before he could respond and went into the filing cabinet behind her desk, pulling a thick folder from the top drawer then dropping it heavily on the desk.

"Here is all of the evidence that I have been compiling on the Power Broker since they showed on our radar during the Blip, and spent most of the night organizing. The pictures and the stack with a red paper clip all came in the mail from Latvia a few days ago, the envelope is attached, and was opened in front of Fury and Hill. The night before we received them I was on the phone with my top informant, the one who sent that package, who tried to tell me something about the power broker but was killed while on the phone. Before disconnecting a woman's voice told me to back off of the power broker or I'd be next." She played the recording of that call and others from the same informant.

Bucky shook his head "You've been doing this long enough, you could have made authentic looking evidence. Especially with all the AI stuff. Or had someone do it."

Cookie looked at him like he'd grown another head "Are you serious Barnes? You think I would ever intentionally risk the reputation and career that I've worked my ass off for my entire adult life, over a broken heart? You think that I would ruin someones life and risk legal repercussions on myself over a man? You know what this job means to me and what I've been through to get here."

Bucky hesitated with a pained look on his face and shook his head like he was trying to clear it. There was a voice in the back of his head, telling him this was all wrong but something made him push it down and keep going.

"Well, maybe one of your people is doing it. Are you even sure that informant is dead? Maybe the family is trying to get paid. Or the real power broker is smart enough to lead you to Sharon and you're all too willing to believe the worst because of me."

He paused for a minute "And I heard you call me a liar but I've never lied to you."

Cookie laughed "You sure about that? It's been awhile so I understand if your memory is failing. That morning? The last time you actually acknowledged me outside of work related, yeah you lied to me. Twice actually"

Bucky tried to remember back to that morning, something he tried to avoid because he knew he made one of the worst mistakes of his life. He shook his head to clear the image of her heartbroken face "Yeah I don't know what you're talking about."

Cookie scoffed "Of course you don't, I'm surprised you remembered my name when you came in here. First, you told me you weren't ready for a relationship but you jumped into one with Sharon before her car cooled down" Bucky opened his mouth to protest but she glared at him and he backed down "and second, you told me you loved me and wanted to stay friends but went to ignoring me before my tears dried."

She felt her eyes filling up and cursed "Fuck. You even started leaving the room if I was there. Do you know how it feels to have one of your so called best friends cut you out of their life like you were dog shit on their shoe?" She cleared her throat and wiped her tears.

"I would never frame someone, ever. No matter how I felt about them. Not even you."

Bucky stared at her then winced as though he was in severe pain and dropped his head into his palms before speaking again.

"Well something is going on somewhere because I know, in my gut that Sharon isn't the power broker. There's no way."

He picked his head up and looked at Cookie

"I'm not in a relationship with her, we're just friends. And I didn't lie, I was wrong. I thought I wanted to stay friends with you but I don't, I can't. You're always looking at me and making me feel guilty and I don't deserve that. Plus you've been nasty to Sharon since she got here, don't think she hasn't told me about the horrible comments you make to her."

Cookie laughed "This is the most we've spoken in months, I'm not doing anything to make you feel guilty. That's all on you. But Sharon has you all twisted around because she's the one making nasty comments to me."

Bucky bristled "I don't have anything to feel guilty for. I've done nothing wrong and Sharon wouldn't lie to me."

She shrugged "If you say so, I didn't say anything. Now I've given you the details and shown the evidence. What you do is on you."

Bucky stood up, winced again and shook his head "I don't know if you did it or someone you're working with but I do know someone is trying to frame Sharon and you're going along with it. I'll prove you're wrong, that's what I'm gonna do."

Cookie scoffed "Good luck with that, Barnes"

Bucky put his hands on her desk and leaned into her space, his voice quiet and cold "I'll prove you're doing this because of your jealousy and your job and reputation will be over."

Cookie spat at him "Go fuck yourself Barnes, if you think that poorly of me you obviously never knew me. I have never been anything less than thorough and professional. I guess I should be grateful you panicked and cut me out of your life before I let myself get too attached. Good luck with Carter and get the Hell out of my office."

She sat down and went back to the packets she was finishing.

Bucky stood and stared like he was expecting something to happen before turning around and stalking off to find Sharon.

He woke up in the dark, with Sharon curled into him and looked at his watch. 9pm? Not again, his last memory was yelling at Cookie after breakfast then finding Sharon but nothing after that. He decided he had enough and scheduled an appointment with medical in the morning to see if they could help him figure out why he kept losing time.

Cookie spent the rest of the day in more briefings with senior agents to discuss the Sharon Carter problem and how to negate it. Bucky Barnes attachment to Carter was discussed as well since he had already started causing trouble over the revelations and couldn't be trusted to do the right thing.

When she was asked why they couldn't just arrest Sharon and tranq Bucky if he caused a problem, Cookie told them about her concerns that Sharon had an ally in the intel department that needed to be weeded out before Sharon.

She was back in her office, cleaning up her desk for the day when Sharon Carter herself wandered in, sat down and waited expectantly for Cookie to speak.

"What can I do for you agent Carter? I'm a little busy."

Sharon smirked "I know what you're trying to do and I understand. You're in love with Barnes and he wants me. It sucks and I know you must be hurting but slandering me won't get him back. In fact he ran to me this morning to tell me what you were trying to do and wondering why you wanted to hurt him so bad. I told him I would work it out with you."

Her face turned nasty "So here's how this is gonna work. You are going to stop trying to smear my name and leave Barnes alone, he doesn't need or want you. Think you can handle that?"

Cookie kept her face blank. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, agent Carter, so get the Hell out of my office."

Sharon laughed "Don't mess with me Cookie, I'm not the girl you want to play with."

Cookie faked an exaggerated yawn "Sure Carter, I'm scared."

Sharon smirked "It doesn't matter what evidence you have, you know. Barnes won't believe you. You could record me telling you that I'm the power broker and want the Soldat to be my enforcer because that's the truth." She grinned and winked "and show it to him. He won't believe you, he's already mine." She sighed "Of course now that you're on to me I will have to adjust my plans but he will want to go with me, even beg to come to protect me from all of you.

Don't chase us little girl, you won't like what you catch."

Her grin grew to something that would rival the Joker "In fact, go ahead and show him. I know FRIDAY is recording all this so let's go and show him. I want you to see how pointless this all is so you can leave us alone."

Her face hardened "Let's go" she grabbed Cookie by her upper arm and dragged her away from her desk. Cookie tried to fight her but she wasn't great with hand to hand, give her a weapon and she might have a chance but Sharon didn't give her the opportunity to grab anything.

When they arrived at Bucky's room Sharon's face softened before Bucky answered the door.

"Hey doll, you don't have to knock just-" he stopped and frowned when he saw Cookie "What the Hell is going on, Cookie have you been harassing Sharon?"

He looked to Sharon for an explanation.

Sharon was able to squeeze a tear from her eye "I was by her office to talk to Maria and Cookie said she was watching me and knew she could prove that I'm the power broker. Listen to what she said. Friday can you play the audio from my talk in Cookies office a few minutes ago?"

"Of course agent Carter."

A recording started of Sharon and Cookies interaction in her office. Bucky started listening with a passive face but he grew angrier with everything Sharon said.

Cookie felt hopeful that he would finally see the truth about Sharon but he aimed his ire at her.

"Seriously Cookie? You just can't let it go can you? Sharon hasn't done anything except make me happy and it's killing you. Like I'm some prize to be won. I never thought you would compromise yourself like this but maybe I'll have a talk with Fury and Hill about your obsession with me."

Cookie just stared at him, trying to figure out what the Hell he was talking about. They both heard Sharon say she was the power broker but he still didn't believe it. "Are you listening to the same audio I am Barnes? She said right there shes the power broker and wants the Winter Soldier to be her enforcer."

Bucky glared at her "Jesus Cookie, that's not even close to what she said. Maybe you need to take a vacation because you're losing it."

He looked her up and down "Honestly you look like shit. When did you stop taking care of yourself? I definitely wouldn't have slept with you if you looked like this."

Sharon just stood next to Bucky grinning like a JackAss at Cookie. "I told you Cookie, he's mine so let it go."

Cookie took a breath then turned and walked away without another word. Sharon must have found some way to brainwash him again and Cookie knew there was nothing she could do right now except notify Fury and Hill that Bucky was under Sharon's control so they could work on getting him back. They scheduled a meeting for first thing the next morning at 5am.

Cookie was woken up by her phone ringing at 3am after just falling asleep. It was Sam, Bucky and Sharon were gone, Stark phones and tracking devices left sitting on the desk in his quarters.

Chapter 4

The Power Broker and The Winter Soldier, in the wind.

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx

[hamspamandjamsandwich]

Kurama is such a complex character, god love him. The way I see him is: I mean he’s literally actually only Yoko Kurama.

“Oh he’s here. He’s me.”

So we have three personas here: Kurama, Yoko Kurama, and Shuuichi Minamino. While he has these three identities, he doesn’t have three personalities. That is to say, he’s one being, two different pieces that merged.

That’s where shit gets really interesting. My interpretation of this is that the merger came packaged with a human soul and body, and that the human parts are what gives him a conscience and a heart and a moral compass, and things such as. I doubt this is an original idea I just wanted to muse lol.

Shuuichi doesn’t bring a different personality. I think Shuuichi provided the things that make us human and a body. Those things are part of the human soul. Empathy, guilt, love. Yoko was always still himself, it’s how Kurama remembers everything, it’s literally just him. He’s simply changed as a person due to being plagued with humanity.

And that’s such a fun idea to me. Yoko Kurama, the legendary bandit, king of thieves—having personality rehab via the human experience. I think it just changed him the way anyone can change, sorta. He begins to feel pretty shitty about the things he’s done and feels guilty about everything with regards to his mother. All this comes together and makes him…a better version of himself? A better person? And I like that.

there is no Shuuichi outside of an adopted persona/identity for Kurama—like I don’t think he brought anything outside of what comes with nature, genetics, and a human soul (which I personally don’t think is the sum of someone’s personality, just what gives them spiritual life? If that makes sense).

But man, it makes me love Kurama so much more when I don’t think of Yoko as a different self or something that can be abandoned, it’s simply a previous version of himself. The past. So I think his 15 years as semi-human simply gave Yoko some insane character development.

Experiencing being unconditionally loved—the very idea that a relationship need not be transactional—being loved beyond what you can do for them. Being loved for existing, and nothing else. I truly think that his humanity responded well to being loved during the “early childhood development” stage and it gives him a way more stable sense of self than he should have tbh

And much like actual prison (or maybe more accurately rehab or inpatient etc), he has nothing but time and passes it by taking up interests and hobbies. He got to find stuff he enjoys about being human and ningenkai. He already liked plants obviously, but it’s so sweet to imagine him really developing an interest in botany and gardening and keeping houseplants etc. Learning to cook with Shiori and actually really liking it—I mean hey he gets to use some of those plants he’s been growing.

Big reader, obviously. He wants to know everything, and he knows so much already, yet humans keep inventing new shit to learn about, so that works out well. School and education get to be competitive sports that he’s the best at, again obviously. All manner of puzzles, games (tabletop and video of course), mystery books and films; if you can analyze it or crack a code somehow, he’s good with it. A real people-watcher, the disdain for humanity begins to fade over time and observation—they’re not so bad after all.

I like that he grows very comfortable in his human form. He’s pretty and appears to really own that (he lucked out there, huh? Incubated in a human that will be so attractive in the future lol), and I think that being raised by his mother (and perhaps this is some of that aforementioned Shuuichi nature) has him “in touch with his feminine side.” So I imagine he doesn’t miss his Yoko body too much, until he suddenly gets it back for a moment and is reminded of how good it felt to be himself. Good in a sinful, hedonistic way, that is. He clearly doesn’t want to be that way, but 1000+ year old habits die hard, right?

Idk I love Yoko Kurama that’s all folks that’s one of my headcanons or maybe it’s actually canon who knows. I just wanted to muse about my favorite kitsune.

[kings-highway]

Hiya King! I’ve been making my way through a bunch of your fics recently (they are so good!!) I was wondering about your writing habits. How often do you write? Do you have writing exercises you do or do you mostly just work on fanfiction? How long have you been writing for? I am loving all the stuff of yours that I have read so far, so thank you for posting them~ (hope this wasn’t too many questions lol)

Hiya!!!!! Absolutely A-ok not too many questions at all I love answering questions so much!! I'll try not to ramble on forever and ever in my answer.

1. "How often I write" is a little hard to pin down. First, I need to explain that I have a desk job and I cover night shifts, so I actually do a lot of my writing in the downtime at work (sanctioned by my managers everything is ok it's permitted.) So due to being trapped at a computer screen and keyboard and not being able to leave for multiple hours, I tend to write... a lot more than I might on average. (Pretty sure this is the only reason I did any of the readings for degree ontime lmao). Typically, I am an all-or-nothing writer. If I have a free day, either the whole day is writing, or I don't even look at the document. I sort of go where the muse takes me in that way, which I know doesn't help for taking ideas for your own writing schedule, but it's the truth. I try not to be afraid of the long-quiet periods of writing, I always eventually get back to it.

2. Writing exercises? Fanfiction is my writing exercise! No, for real! Due to the relatively recent boom in people engaging with me and getting to play the role of the fanfiction author more and more it's sort of changing, but the reality is, I consider myself a writer outside of fanfiction more than I do any of my fanfic creations. Fanfiction has always been a writing exercise for me - original worldbuilding, original characters, original everything can be a lot of work, and I've found that writing fanfiction helps me crack out of some of my bad habits. Focus instead on stories, the actual beat and rhythm of my writing, foreshadowing and the actual prose. Of course, in some of my... newer works, my AUs and more fantasy ones this isn't as applicable (The End feels almost more like a standard original novel in terms of work for writing) BUT for me, fanfiction is "easy" - I don't have to decide how the characters act. Their personalities are already set - I don't have to decide the worldbuilding (usually), that was already decided. All I have to do is play in someone else's sandbox, so what's left is the foundational skills. If you can master writing in character for someone else's character, your ability to identify your own character's voices, what is needed to make someone sound different and unique from the other characters, how different archetypes fit together, it all becomes easier. And it frees up my brainpower to focus on playing with formatting techniques, and telling different stories, and learning what works and what doesn't when it comes to dialogue, scene setting. It's all in service of learning the trade. Hence why all my fanfiction is Haikyuu lmao... This isnt my natural writing state, I don't want to write for every single fandom I come across. Daichi has just become written equivalent of a crash test dummy for me. but a very important one - writing fanfiction got me out of a 2.5 year writing slump in which I basically never opened a page at all! So while it is very special to me, I tend to write fanfiction as a way of scrubbing my brain between original projects and to practice my skills rather than considering it my best writing. Hence why my fanfiction is almost entirely unedited. I ain't practicing those skills lmao. Otherwise... no other exercises. Writing with a buddy is always fun though. See who can get the most words done in however long.

3. "How long have I been writing" - literally, truly, genuinely, as long as I can remember. I don't say this like most people do, when they say "oh I've been writing/drawing/playing my whole life" when they really have just been casually interested and only started really trying recently - I have been writing my whole life. One of my earliest memories is of creating a stapled picture book I hand drew and writing that was a fairytale about me, my brother and my dad going on a fantasy adventure. I kept stapled pages of handwritten novels in my desk drawer - I used to get permission from my 3-5th grade teachers to skip recess and lunch and go down to the computer lab and work on a novel instead of going outside (got all my friends doing it too!), I finished my first 30k novel when I was twelve on my mother's work-assigned laptop (it was Warriors fanfiction.) I remember when my brother taught me when and how to do paragraph breaks, I remember him saying he wanted to write a novel and me going "that sounds so cool" and then never ever moving on even after he did. I could wax poetic about how writing is like air to me, and has been the only thing I have never doubted about myself in my life. Or, I could just admit that I'm a writing Nepobaby because my dad's worked in TV and Film as a writer and editor for pretty much his whole life so from the moment I started telling stories I've had the absolute best teacher and guide to bounce ideas off of for themes, story beats, plot structures. :p Anyway like a solid 2 decades at minimum.

Anyway thank you so so so so much for reading and liking my stuff, I hope this was satisfactory for answering questions even though I did end up going on and on. Thank you! Mentally giving you a nice soft-baked cookie of your flavour preference :) 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

xx

[daisyswift3]

Jumping in the Deep End 🐇🕳️💛

So there’s sth else I noticed related to the Gracie rabbit hole I’ve fallen down that I haven’t mentioned yet bc I feel crazy saying it but I’ve already said a lot of insane stuff lately so fuck it. But before u read this post I do recommend reading this other analysis I wrote as well as this post first bc it’ll make everything make more sense. Ok continuing….

Not long after The Secret of Us was released on June 21, I watched this interview that was uploaded the day the album was released where Gracie texts her fans. One of the first things I noticed was how Gracie suspiciously looks straight at the camera as she makes a typo which I mentioned in the analysis I just linked, but another thing that caught my attention was that one of the fans is named Aimee (3:06 mark in the vid). I thought this was a little strange bc Aimee isn’t really the typical spelling of that name, it’s usually spelled like this instead, Amy. But even more strange was that the day after this interview was uploaded, June 22, Taylor just so happened to play thanK you aIMee as one of the surprise songs in London. What an interesting coincidence!

June 22 was a big deal bc it was Midsummer Day which celebrates daylight. This is likely why Gracie made yellow 💛 the main color of the album and chose to release it on June 21, Midsummer Eve—bc this album is abt a coming out journey (see these posts for more on that: x, x, x, x, x, x, x). And if you look at the text “Aimee” sends, it sounds like sth an artist would ask another artist rather than a typical fan question. Aimee specifically asks abt her creative process which is a very artist thing to do. So basically all that to say I wouldn’t be surprised if Aimee was actually Taylor and this text was also an easter egg for us to find just like the intentional glitches and typos.

If this text was in fact from Taylor, I believe the purpose of it may have been to lead us down the Gracie rabbit hole where we could find endless cross references between Gracie’s music and Taylor’s music. If you watch the music videos for those 3 songs Aimee mentions and listen to the lyrics, they could easily be interpreted as being abt Taylor’s secret relationship w this korner of the internet that is almost like the Hanging Gardens of Babylon bc there’s no tangible proof it ever existed but there is a lot of folklore surrounding it and the story has been passed down and become a myth. “Wonder if you regret the secret of us.” I believe these 3 songs could be from Taylor’s perspective. And to go even further w it (fair warning, this is where we really go off the deep end), I think it’s very possible that not just these songs are abt this secret relationship, but most of Gracie’s songs bc all of them reference each other and have lyrical and visual parallels to each other much like Taylor’s songs (see this post).

Now I want to make it very clear: Gracie is her own person w her own talents outside of Taylor. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea or think I’m trying to undermine Gracie’s artistry or give all the credit to Taylor. And I also don’t think this secret relationship was the only inspiration for these songs since it’s very clear Gracie uses her own personal experiences and feelings, and I believe she could be writing abt more than one muse or from more than one person’s perspective in each song, similar to how in hoax Taylor sings abt 3 different relationships simultaneously. I am simply trying to point out the insane amount of parallels between Gracie and Taylor’s music that I think are too abundant to simply chalk up to coincidence. And I’m not saying that my interpretations are for sure the right ones, I could definitely be wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time. This is just a fun clown theory that I think is worth considering.

So going back to those 3 songs in the text—Mess It Up, I know it won’t work, The Bottom—I wanted to do an analysis on them and the mvs bc I think the reason why “Aimee” might’ve been pointing us to those specific songs and mvs is bc they are an important part of this coming out story. Plus the specific symbolism and imagery used in the songs can be cross referenced w pretty much every other song in Gracie’s discography (and w many Taylor songs) making them all connected.

For instance, the main themes in Mess It Up are:

Not growing up -> minor, tehe, Wishful Thinking, Older, Better, Augusta, Alright, Difficult // Peter, The Archer, cardigan, betty, peace

Groundhog Day (This is related to the next theme) -> Under/Over, Risk mv, I Love You, I’m Sorry, us // The Prophecy

Making the same mistake over and over/Bad habits -> Long Sleeves, Rockland, The Bottom, Best, Will you cry?, Difficult, This is what the drugs are for, Fault line, Block me out, Blowing Smoke, I Love You, I’m Sorry, us, Let It Happen // Anti-Hero, coney island, Florida!!!, Fresh Out The Slammer, The Black Dog

Not being able to sleep at night -> Rockland, Hard to Sleep, Camden, Painkillers, Difficult, This is what the drugs are for, The blue, 405, Risk, Blowing Smoke, Let It Happen, Tough Love // Midnights the stories of 13 sleepless nights, hoax

The birthday cakes -> 21, Stay mv, Mean It mv, Risk mv // All Too Well short film, coney island

“Let it happen” -> The song Let It Happen on TSOU, Better

Lying -> For Real This Time, Best, Full machine, Where do we go now?, Block me out, Blowing Smoke, Let It Happen // Getaway Car, illicit affairs, the lavender haze/bearding/red herrings

Phone calls -> 21, Rockland, Full machine, I should hate you, This is what the drugs are for, The blue, Block me out, us, Let It Happen // cowboy like me, Anti-Hero mv, Fortnight mv

Going onto a porch in order to apologize to someone -> Risk mv (technically not to apologize but it’s still related to coming out and making things right) // betty, cardigan, this is me trying, long story short, Fresh Out the Slammer

The main themes in I know it won’t work are:

Closets -> Peter, seven, cowboy like me, I Know Places

Drawing the line in the sand and putting up boundaries or crossing boundaries -> Mess It Up, Long Sleeves, For Real This Time, Best, Felt Good About You, Let It Happen, Gave You I Gave You I

Cutting ties w someone -> Friend, Blowing Smoke, Free Now

Being someone’s ghost/haunting someone -> I miss you, I’m sorry, us, Block me out // Basically all of TTPD and much of folkmore and Midnights (Anti-Hero mv)

The main themes in The Bottom are:

“I told you I was down bad, you hate to see me like that” -> Down Bad

Making the same mistake over and over/Bad habits -> Long Sleeves, Rockland, The Bottom, Best, Will you cry?, Difficult, This is what the drugs are for, Fault line, Block me out, Blowing Smoke, I Love You, I’m Sorry, us, Let It Happen // Anti-Hero, coney island, Florida!!!, Fresh Out The Slammer, The Black Dog

Opening up the door and letting someone into your house, closing the door, or going into someone’s house uninvited -> Mess It Up mv, Under/Over, tehe, I should hate you, us, Let It Happen, I Love You, I’m Sorry, Gave You I Gave You I // cardigan, hoax, Anti-Hero mv

Dragging someone down/Hitting rock bottom/Coming down after a high or being high (drug metaphor; becoming more famous=“getting higher”) -> Long Sleeves, Rockland, Wishful Thinking, Painkillers, Alright, This is what the drugs are for, Fault line, Right now, Block me out, Blowing Smoke, I Knew It, I Know You, Gave You I Gave You I, Free Now // Many songs on TTPD use the drug metaphor, gold rush, long story short, Anti-Hero mv (pushed from balcony), seven, this is me trying, illicit affairs

Being the problem -> 21, minor, Rockland, Wishful Thinking, Older, Painkillers, Best, Difficult, Block me out, Unsteady, I Love You, I’m Sorry mv // Anti-Hero

Mess It Up

So as I stated before this song is all abt making the same mistakes over and over and reliving the same day like it’s Groundhog Day. Gracie, the narrator, keeps trying to make things right and apologize to the person she’s hurt, but every time she tries she messes it up which is represented by her dropping the cake repeatedly. But finally at the end of the mv, she is able to get it right and properly apologize. She knocks on someone’s door and they open it which symbolizes this person opening their heart to Gracie and forgiving her. If you go to the 2:12 mark in the mv when the letters and numbers on the fridge fall, you’ll see that they spell out a secret message “Hi (13, 31) Peter Pan - T” (the “I” doubles as a 1, the “3” doubles as an E, and the “L” doubles as an R/r if flipped on its side). Taylor was 31 yrs old when the Mess It Up mv was released on May 6, 2021. Peter Pan is the boy who never grew up. This means that it’s likely the narrator’s inability to grow up that is causing issues in the relationship. This is why the song starts w “Opened two double doors, typical, pretty sure I could grow up.”

“Did I fall out of like when I called you” -> Did I cross a boundary and make things worse when I called you? Boundaries are one of the main themes in I know it won’t work. I believe that Gracie and Taylor could be using “phone calls/texts/letters” as a metaphor for the anon messages and riddles we’ve received over the years. As a result of trying to solve these messages and riddles, kaylors have gotten a ton of hate and many have had to leave the fandom bc the environment is so toxic. This song could be Taylor acknowledging these issues and apologizing for how we’ve been treated.

“'Cause every time I get too close, I just go mess it up” -> It’s possible Taylor has tried many times over the years to properly apologize to us by giving us more cryptic messages containing these apologies, but the problem is that these anon messages and riddles are the main reason why we get bullied so this only makes the issue worse in the end.

“Funny that (Funny that) didn't work (Didn't work), I could be anywhere, I'm on your block” -> I believe this could be related to I Love You, I’m Sorry. “The way life goes, Joyriding down our road, Lay on the horn to prove that it haunts me, (I'm wrong again, wrong again) I love you, I'm sorry.” This song also has the lyrics “I wanna speak in code” which makes me think of the anon messages and queer flagging.

“I keep thinking, maybe if you let me back in, we can make it better, breaking every habit” -> Taylor talks abt breaking bad habits in The Black Dog which I believe represents putting an end to the bearding/lavender haze/red herrings/smokescreen/blowing smoke/not growing up.

It’s very interesting that Gracie uses a birthday cake to apologize. Birthday cakes are a common symbol that shows up in Gracie’s music. They also appear in 21, another apology song, and the Risk mv which is likely abt the mass coming out (see this post). In the All Too Well mv, Sadie’s character receives a birthday cake at the same time that Taylor sings, “But then he watched me watch the front door all night, willin' you to come, And he said, ‘It's supposed to be fun turning 21.’” In both 21 and ATW 10 min version, the older person in the relationship misses their significant other’s 21st birthday which greatly hurts them. These songs could be 2 sides of the same coin from opposite perspectives like dorothea and TTDS. With how many connections there are between Gracie and Taylor’s music, I’m inclined to believe this isn’t a coincidence.

(From the Mean It mv. When the 21 candles are thrown in the box they almost look like a backward "t" and "s")

“If it doesn't go away by the time I turn 30, I made a mistake and I'll tell you I'm sorry, ‘Sorry.’” The narrator is saying once she turns 30 she’ll apologize to the 21 yr old if her feelings haven’t changed by then. This is immediately followed by a “sorry” meaning the narrator has actually already turned 30 yrs old which is another indicator that Gracie is in fact speaking from someone else’s perspective bc Gracie was only 20 at the time of this song’s release in 2020. Plus just a few tracks later in the same album, the narrator says "I miss you, I'm sorry" which she said she wouldn’t say until after she turned 30. Taylor was 30 yrs old when the album minor was released in July 2020 and when 21 was released as a single on Feb 20, 2020. If this song is from Taylor’s perspective at 30 yrs old, then the significant other/ex being 21 indicates it (along w all the other cross-referenceable songs) is likely not abt a literal romantic relationship; rather, the song is an allegory or metaphor. The 21 (acoustic) mv has "I miss you" on the piano and "I'm sorry" in the notebook which indicates that 21 is directly related to I miss you, I'm sorry. The emphasis on birthdays and age in 21 fits well w the Peter Pan metaphor that shows up in many of Gracie’s songs. Even though the narrator is getting physically older, she is not getting metaphorically older. To add even more credibility to this theory, the song minor has the line “Hit me 3-1-0” which could represent both Taylor turning 31 in 2020 and a backwards 13. 13s show up several times in Gracie’s mvs and songs. The Secret of Us is a 13-track album that was released on June 21. Additionally, the first 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 message was sent July 21 and the second to last message, which I’m now pretty certain is abt Gracie’s album TSOU, was sent May 21 (x).

Look at the numbers on the houses ⬇️ Going column-wise there’s 226(1), 226(3) which is a 13 and there’s also ✌️✌️ which Taylor has used a ton for TTPD (Taylor said in Nov 2021 she wanted to try to plan sth 3 yrs in advance); 2267 -> 6+7=13. Adding up 2+2+6+3 also gives u 13 while 2+2+6+1=11=K. And 6+6 from the 2261, 2263 (again going column-wise) is 12 which is 21 backwards. The 13 showing up in the Risk mv just confirms these choices in the Mess It Up mv were completely intentional.

Gracie and Taylor performed I miss you, I’m sorry together at eras which was Taylor’s suggestion since Gracie’s set was canceled that day (x)(x). I just think it’s very interesting that Taylor wore a yellow dress when they sang this song and then a yr later she just so happened to be featured on the title track of Gracie’s very yellow album 💛 which they (allegedly) didn’t start writing until Nov 13 a few months later (x). This indicates that this performance was likely planned ahead of time and not a last minute decision like they said. I think much of the timeline we’ve been given for Gracie and Taylor’s friendship might be a red herring to prevent ppl from figuring out what these songs are really abt. Gracie and Taylor (allegedly) wrote us together on Nov 13, 2023 spontaneously; but Taylor wearing yellow during IMYIS along w the pap walk w the Cassandra handbag, almost burning down the house 🕯️🧯, and and the fact that all this happened on Nov 13, the day Karlie and Taylor met, indicates that us was actually written much earlier and that the Nov 13 story was just a red herring.

I know it won’t work

This song is all abt boundaries. There are different types of boundaries that show up in the mv: A shoreline, a line in the sand, a fence. It’s clear the narrator doesn’t want to end this relationship and put up walls but she believes she has no other choice bc of her circumstances (not being able to grow up -> Peter, closets).

“I left you here, Heard you keep the extra closet empty, In case this year I come back and stay throughout my twenties” -> The narrator knows there’s no guarantee she’ll actually “grow up” and come out of the closet so her ex keeps the closet empty just in case she wants to move back in and stay in the closet.

“What if I won't? How am I supposed to put that gently? And down the road you will love me until you resent me” -> Since these lines directly follow the ones I just mentioned, you might be inclined to think that “What if I won’t?” is the narrator asking “What if I won’t move back in and rekindle our relationship?” BUT I believe the wording was intentionally ambiguous bc that way it could also mean “What if I won’t grow up and leave the closet? Will you eventually come to resent me if I can’t be the hero you want?”

“But it's a lot, All the shine of half a decade fadin', The whole facade seemed to fall apart, it's complicated” -> This perfectly parallels the 11/09/2019 ♠️ message. The narrator is saying her ex is asking a lot of her by wanting her to come out and destroy the facade. I believe decade might’ve been changed to half a decade so as to not make it obvious Gracie is singing from Taylor’s perspective. The “shine” symbolizes the love and support from fans that has come w being such a famous and successful artist. That’s not an easy thing to give up.

“Why won't you try movin' on for once? That might make it easy, I know we cut all the ties, but you're never really leavin'” -> Taylor knows that even if us kaylors walk away from her we will always eventually come back bc we can’t help but be invested and this puts a lot of pressure on Taylor that she doesn’t want.

“I'll open up, I'm thinkin' everythin' you wish I wasn't, The call was tough but you're better off, I'm bein' honest, So, won't you stop holdin' out for me when I don't want it? Just brush me off 'cause I'm your ghost right now, your house is haunted” -> This entire 3rd verse is extremely telling and fits perfectly w the 2019 failed coming out. The call to not come out was tough bc she was conflicted abt it but she thinks she ultimately made the right decision. Taylor is asking us to stop holding out for a coming out bc it’s not what she wants. Of course I don’t think this is how Taylor currently feels bc I think she’s getting ready to burn down the closet but I think this song shows how she felt at one point. I think the ghost imagery is supposed to connect this song w I miss you, I’m sorry and us as well as all the ghost imagery Taylor has used.

The Bottom

This song is abt hitting rock bottom and being worried that you will drag the ppl you love down w you. It’s kind of a more scathing version of Anti-Hero. I think this song could be directly related to the Mess It Up mv. Someone opens up the door to let Gracie in bc she wants to apologize by giving them a cake. But the narrator warns this person that they should keep their guard up bc she will always be doomed to repeat the same mistakes and drag ppl down w her. Since this song is kind of self explanatory, I’ll instead focus on the mv.

The first thing I noticed when watching this mv is the striking similarities to the Bejeweled mv. Both seem to be inspired by Disney movies/fairytales and even the bells during the title card parts sound similar. PLUS 🎃 anon told us to watch out for things that “ring a belle” -> there are bells in both mvs and one also shows up during the burning castle scene at the end and it is literally ringing; and Bejeweled should look and sound familiar if u have watched The Bottom mv; AND Belle is a Disney princess which is another indicator that 🎃 was referring to these mvs (Taylor wears a yellow dress just like Belle at the end of Bejeweled). Gracie said that The Bottom is supposed to be a satirical mv (see description of vid) and this parallels the Bejeweled mv being satire.

Another thing that’s interesting is that The Bottom mv is kind of the opposite of the Bejeweled mv. In The Bottom, Gracie is dragging a body down the stairs and burying it (descending) while in Bejeweled, Taylor is using an elevator to get higher and higher until she reaches the top floor (ascending). Ascending and descending are things that 🫚 emphasized in this message. Ascending and descending are also things a plane does when flying from one place to another -> “I thought the plane was going down how’d you turn it right around” and all the plane imagery lately. I think 🫚 could have been trying to get us to realize that the beginning stages of this coming out plan (the “ascent,” PR stunts w MH and 🏈, red herrings, 2023-early 2024 🛫) aren’t what we should focus on, it’s the end stages of the journey (the “descent,” cracks in the facade, getting louder w queer flagging, mid 2024-Dec 2024(?) 🛬) that are important.

Yellow shows up a few times in this mv, and I think it’s significant that the room in which the murder happens is a bright one w yellow chairs. Yellow is commonly used to symbolize happiness; Taylor and Gracie use this color in a very similar way to represent daylight/sunshine/summer/being out of the closet/not hiding your real self 💛🌼☀️🏝️ So putting these things together, this scene is symbolically similar to the yellow closet in the Lover house where Taylor has had to put away her sunshine and happiness bc she wasn’t able to come out during Lover era. What was supposed to be a joyous celebration ended w death and destruction.

It’s also interesting that throughout the mv, Gracie is dancing and performing (showmanship/PR) while in a literal spotlight. This ties in perfectly w the very last scene where Gracie is smoking a cigarette which represents bearding/red herrings/lavender haze/smokescreen/smoke and mirrors magic/Blowing Smoke/bad habits. In The Black Dog, Taylor uses smoking as an example of a bad habit/self-destructive behavior she is trying to quit.

Lastly, I wanted to leave you w a few things that I think are very interesting and that could tie in w this theory:

[s-ephiroth]

that said, (my rambling in tags in the previous post) i think i'm taking a lil break on here (not that i post much, i mostly just reblog things i vibe with) to reevaluate some things

fandom recently has been a lot; i've unfollowed friends in other socials whose content changed into mostly blogging about discourse, i've seen people leave, i've heard of old bullies trash talking me and i've only gotten the surface level aftermath of recent events because i was keeping myself sorta away to renew the writing muse/write

(and i've cried, a lot, missing what things used to be like back in 2015-2017... easier times, for sure)

i'm making a post on this instead of doing my usual thing and vanishing randomly because i want to remind everyone that if i share something from other people here, unless i'm outright stating i vouch for that person as, y'know, a person, i'm not necessarily endorsing that person on whatever personal conflicts they may have, i just share content that appeals to me; if people have trouble with each other, they gotta communicate and sort it between themselves

my fandom view has always been, after all, to assume the best scenario unless proven wrong; i don't place hard blocks on any of the events i run unless people are very visibly bullies or had beef with me that was too stressful, i'm socially anxious but always willing to talk to people over shared interests and the like, and i mostly stick to rare pair content nowadays for my peace of mind: a segment of my main/first ship's fandom has partially burned me out on it on a different site with their behavior and ooc views on my favorite character (i still love said ship, but would rather see it the way me and a few folks i consider friends handle it)

so if i naively shared content from someone in particular after going on a ship tag dive to calm myself down, don't blindly assume i necessarily endorse anything and everything from them on a personal level

and don't assume i'm up to date with whoever is beefing with who and for what reason, because i never keep up with that kinda stuff, and i don't come to fandom spaces for this kinda stuff, i come only to see good art, good writing, headcanons and to share my stuff sometimes

if you ever have issue in general with the content i'm sharing based on the original poster (or hell, with me in general) being involved in something, by any means, do reach out and inform me of things

i will NOT mediate conflicts for anyone, because i've done that before and it ended up with me gaining a stalker on an occasion and trying to vouch for someone else i had to later block on a different one, but if i'm told of what happened, i'll at least listen (and try to assess all sides before deciding for myself whether or not to continue sharing content from someone)

i'll still be sharing links and such to my own fics or art and i'll be in my other corners of the internet if i'm needed, but otherwise just assume me to be in meditative silence

[nomsfaultau]

thank you so much for writing mandatory family reunion. i just reread it for the eighth time. i think im going to dedicate my life to life to reading your other sbi fics until you update again. also; do you have any tips for committing to fics and not leaving them half-finished?

ahhhh that’s so sweet glad you enjoyed! As for writing fics, having it be your special interest really helps. But for more general advice on finishing:

-Don’t stick to just one story. Which seems counter intuitive! But inevitably you’re going to hit a snag in one story. So instead of stopping writing at all, switch projects. Writing involves a whole bunch of thinking, and stuff needs time to percolate in the back of your head. But having a small project to work on in the mean time keeps you engaged in the writing process, gives you practice, makes you feel like you’re making progress, and allows time to work out the other story. I personally have 1-2 main projects, Fault and MFR, and then rotate a couple back burner stories that I work on whenever I get inspiration and fully expect to have very slow progress and possibly never finish. Short stories, one shots, hell even just writing little one off scenes that don’t go anywhere. It’s a way to keep writing fun and thus you’re more likely to continue working on the stuff you’re trying to complete. Don’t feel bad if there’s breaks between working on your main project. Writing involves a lot of thinking and it takes time to do that.

-Devoting time to do that thinking also significantly helps. When you’re falling asleep can be a good time to rotate stories in your head. Could also be if you’re walking from place to place, or brushing your teeth, or other little gaps in the day. Even if you’re not physically writing, it’s still part of the process and can make it easier when you actually sit down to write because you know what scene you’re most excited to work on. Also, talking over your story idea with a friend is a great way to stay motivated if you can get over the mortifying ordeal of being known. You can bounce ideas off them, and other people’s investment in a project can be a great motivator to finish. Like legit a single ao3 comment once stopped me from my plan to abandon a fic. Reminding yourself why you (and other people) like the story makes it easier to want to continue.

-Keeping a rough outline of what you envision for the story can give you a road map to how close to done you are and where to go next. Just like you can hop between projects, I find jumping around the plot time line to write what scene I’m most interested in atm keeps me going instead of writing everything in order. Though, all writers have different degrees of plot planning, so that depends on your style.

-Art! I’m an artist, and while writing definitely fuels what I draw, I find doodling cool scenes I want to write really inspires me to keep going. This sorta falls under the same category of continuing to think about the story and motivating you to finish. -I found keeping a writing journal has improved how I view my writing. Basically, I’ll jot down a bullet point list of scenes worked on that week/month. Writing is a very slow process, so seeing a timeline of actual progression on a story makes it feel like I’m actually getting more out of my head and onto paper. I also jot down what ideas for scenes I came up with since that’s also part of writing, and might include a chill no stakes writing goal for that period, like work on X or Y project, or a particular scene. Sometimes my goal is just ‘write at least one sentence’. I give it lots of leeway, and accept that the muse may just be somewhere else that week. And if the goal isn’t met, no sweat! Life can get busy at times and it’s more important that you aren’t beating yourself up if it’s been awhile since you last touched a project. Forcing yourself to write a scene that isn’t ready won’t result in a good scene or an happy writer. Switch projects, give yourself time to think about it, take care of yourself, etc.

And, legitimately, don’t be afraid to abandon a piece. Maybe you’ll come back to it, maybe you won’t. It can feel disheartening to feel like you can’t seem to finish a project, but unfinished pieces also do a lot for you: they hone your craft, allow you a creative outlet, give you scenes that could potentially be reworked for later pieces, and most importantly were hopefully fun to write! Story crafting is a hobby that should bring you joy, not frustration and shame.

Like, I have stories that will never see the light of day and are just so I can have fun and poke it with a stick occasionally. I’m 100% confident in saying that every author will have tenfold the number of unfinished wips compared to complete works. That’s just part of the creative process: exploring different worlds to find the one you want to write.

Perhaps a fic might never get finished, but in the wise words of Technoblade: “if you enjoy it, it’s not time wasted, no?”

(Now, I think he was talking about murdering people, but the point still stands.)

[merrock]

HAPPY MAY !

It's starting to feel summery, don't you think, Merrockites?! We've still got a little ways to go, but May always puts a bounce in my step, and hopefully yours, too. This month, I have our usual post with some little reminders, lots of information about our upcoming events (it's Challenge month!!!), and I am addressing some concerns from recent anonymous asks... as well as one gentle favor. Read on. xx

ON THE CALENDAR !

May 3 -- free comic book day -- come to Page Turners for a free comic, but bring in your gently used ones, too!

May 5 -- cinco de mayo -- Paco's Tacos opened a brand new outdoor patio and is inviting everyone out to celebrate!

May 11 -- mother's day -- drinks, snacks, and most importantly: bouquet making classes for moms at Lavender Lane! your mini can make one, too!

May 13 -- cocktail day -- come out for a cocktail party at Evolved -- make sure to dress the part.

May 16 -- pizza party day -- come to Pizza Thyme for a jumbo pizza and stromboli and everything else good buffet!

May 21 -- international tea day -- stock up on your very favorite teas and supplies at What's The Tea?

May 23-25 -- THE CHALLENGE (OOC: May 17-31)

May 26 -- memorial day -- schools and a lot of local businesses are closed... so why not have a picnic?

IMPORTANT STUFF !

just some really gentle stuff this month -- only one minor rule change to implement the policy we developed with dropping diverse characters.

we've introduced a fun spring task! but don't forget that you are very welcome to continue working on the previous task about non-playable characters, if you would like.

it's Challenge month! you do not need to be participating to attend, and I recommend tagging along, as this will count as our 'trip' for the year, with fun lodging, and things to do around the site where everyone will be staying.

i will also have some other event announcements between now and the Challenge, so keep an eye out.

ADDRESSING RECENT ANONS !

Over the past couple of months, there have been several anonymous asks sent to me (and other players, unfortunately). While it is always tempting to just delete these and pretend they didn't happen, there were a few valid points about activity, fairness, etc., that I wanted to touch on, and also just some negativity that I wanted to nip in the bud. To be clear: I do not know who sent these anons, I do not know the intent behind the anons, I do not even know if the person is here in the group! But, again, I'm here to be mod, so...

ON ISSUES WITH CHARACTERS, FACE CLAIMS, SHIPS, PLOTS, ETC.

You will not always like every writer, every character, every plot, every ship, every face claim. If something bugs you, don't interact with it -- but you still need to be polite and respectful.

No one has a right to send anons about these things to other players (wtf?) or main. What you do have a right to do is contact me off of anon so I am aware and can help you.

I'm gonna hold your hand when I say this: the same way that you might not like everything/everyone, there are people out there who do not like you, your ship, your character. This goes for everyone. If you wouldn't want them bombarding you with criticism, telling you to leave the group (again, wtf) or spreading nastiness to main, don't do it to others. Period.

ON PUTTING A CAP ON CHARACTERS / DIVERSITY IN CHARACTERS NOT TREATED FAIRLY

I will not cap characters, sorry. I understand the concern, and I know that groups where people can play large amounts of characters can be overwhelming to some, but that just means we might not be the group for you, and that's okay! If people like it here enough to want to explore a large variety of muses, I want that for them, too.

But -- I also want to be sure we are being fair, and so I will be more careful about pick-ups in terms of making sure writers are solidly, steadily active for long periods of time, that all their characters are settled in, have connections, are well-developed, that open starters are replied to, that there aren't a lot of warnings or strikes. While I want you guys to be responsible with pick-ups, I also recognize my part in this and will be careful.

However!!! The issue was brought forward that people might be more active on white characters than POC, and I wanted to say: if this is happening, I will not let people pick up further characters, you have my word. But, I think this is less of a diversity issue and more of a balance issue as a whole: if you play more than one character, be sure that they are all equally on dash!

ON ACTIVITY ISSUES IN GENERAL

First and foremost: let me handle activity. It's not your job to send anons to main trying to call someone out -- as I said above, if you wouldn't want someone doing it to you, don't do it to others.

The rules are two (different) threads per week on each character. If you do not have two threads, you're placed on check. If you are only writing with one writer, if you are only meeting the goal Thursdays before check, if you are not replying to opens: I take note of these things, trust me. I got this. Let me handle it.

All this aside... I absolutely agree we have room for improvement, 100%. If we are being unfair with our threads, it causes other writers to have a deficit in replies, and honestly, can kinda kill muse, especially if the writer is otherwise active. It is important to keep in mind not everyone can reply once every few days! Some people may take longer, we all have different schedules.

At the very least, be more cognizant of your activity, maybe try to make yourself a tracker or a list of active threads so you can get to the oldest stuff first. At the very most, if it's a long-term problem, consider keeping within your limits on characters and threads.

Also, anon (and anyone!): we have a lot of characters in this group. Plenty of writers. If you are having trouble keeping up muse with someone, if you feel they're dropping or delaying responses to you, write with someone else! Reach out to someone else to do the plot you've wanted to do, I promise you will feel better.

A WORD FROM THE MOD !

If I can ask one thing from everyone this month, on a personal level, it's just to be kind. Not to me as a mod (although I don't think I can stress enough how much a kind word every now and then means), but to one another. To reach out to plot with someone when they ask in the OOC blog. To welcome all new writers, to reply to open starters, to reply to those messages from friends who want to talk about threads and plots. To be understanding, in the same vein, if people come here to escape real world stuff and just want to write or chat about silly, lighthearted plots, share head canons, be in a world that is not their own right now. Everyone -- and I mean everyone -- deals with their own ish, and deals with it in their own ways. Some want to talk, some don't. Some share, some never will. Don't assume, just... be polite. Trust me when I say that everyone just appreciates a little bit of kindness. So this May, let's make that our goal. Be kind. 💖 p.s. be active, too! We always love to see that. xx

HAVE A GREAT MAY !

[clannfearrunt]

im really impressed by how alien and different from each other you make the different splatoon species' cultures

how do you do it?

Wow thank you! I frequently start by figuring out the basic biology/physiology of a species. Of course, when you're dealing with sapient beings (aka "people"), biology doesn't necessarily dictate their behaviors, their personalities, etc. But it's really useful to keep in mind how it can affect how they experience the world physically, because it can affect basically everything else to varying degrees. I use this biological baseline (?) to kick off the culture development dominoes, essentially.

Like, glancing at humans as an example to kind of walk through the process. Humans have very little hair/fur to keep them warm, so they often wear clothing in cooler climates. This is the first step, where we're simply addressing a practical problem. The next step would be to think about how this behavior may be interpreted by different groups as their cultures develop. This could be stuff like "in places where wearing clothing became the norm, many cultures have developed various levels of nudity taboos". From there you can endlessly iterate on different ways this can manifest, or cases where it doesn't apply, etc etc etc. After a few degrees of separation from the initial Physical Constraint you're no longer just doing biology shit, you're getting into People doing people shit. Just keep on Musing over it until I'm bored and want to think abt something else.

Another important Physical Aspect I want to keep in mind are the environments that these cultures developed in, because a desert culture and a jungle culture are going to have different Experiences shaping them - but lol I have to. Figure out the map situation for that. So we have been a bit lighter on that end. Thought process would be the same as the above though.

As an aside. Something that has been difficult but important has been keeping in mind that, at least in this setting, different species have been coming into contact at different points of history. Although it's hard to get this across when you havent named anything, there isn't actually a singular Squid Culture, or Shark Culture, Fish Culture, or whatever. Each species have/had multiple cultural groups, and as people moved around and came into contact with each other they've exchanged ideas, merged, split again... All the stuff that goes on between human groups, but with multiple species involved! When people in-universe mention a "[species] culture", it's usually a more colloquial/casual reference to a local subculture or something similar. Actual single-species cultures are rare in the modern day, and are usually from places that are physically isolated or are difficult for other species to thrive in. Octarians and Salmonids are good examples from canon. Outside of canon, many of the surviving single-species groups are Fish living in extreme cold and/or arid climates, as most other species are less tolerant of desiccation, cold, or both.

It is 1:44 am and I'm losing my thread here. To summarize: figure out the physical constraints (biological, environmental, etc) and explore the chain of Effects that might result from them. Also think about how exchange with other cultures would change things. Also sometimes just fucking come up with an idea you think would be cool and run with it honestly