#it's just such a beautiful thing that we all share

[kalashssplatfuckery]

I hope you don't mind the random writing but this is beautiful and now I got some sort of inspiration from this.

"It was.. well I dunno how to really say it."

"Magical? Enchanting?"

"I was just gonna go with cool but you do you Jelfonzo."

He replies a bit smugly, A quick nudge is shared between the Inkling and Octoling as they stare up at the night sky from the broken observatory telescope they sat upon.

"Well it was cool. Seeing so many people, all fighting together for one thing.. freedom. We all wanted it, freedom from a life of warfare and from dry drab."

"Were you fighting for the same thing?"

"I guess so.. but after I got to Inkopolis on my own I kinda missed being in the Octavian army, there I at least had some people, everybody else went their separate ways, many went together."

He recounts, his voice quieting down to listen out for any noises around them that aren't pieces of the building crashing down before resuming what he had to say to Deuce.

"I was broke, Grizzco here didn't pay much with those salmon runs and I sucked at Turf wars. I swear I was better at it though.."

"Yeah right, as if. You can barely aim with a splatter shot, how would I believe you on that?"

"Well I did run a roller most of the time."

She gives him a look that sort of accepts this, considering his skill with... Fünfs roller. The conversation falls silent as Deuce's eyes lay upon the Krak-on roller of their fallen comrade on sixteens back.

Art G.Shvecova (Design graphics - Purple stars_1412)

[cutiecusp]

Memories, part three.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader.

TW, Memory loss, mentions of PTSD, light fluff.

You watch him as you both enter your shared home together, the tightness in his chest obvious as he scans the room, his dark eyes flitting over all the things that made your home unique to you both before settling on a photograph.

"You look beautiful, cant believe you got me in a suit." He remarks gruffly, staring at the couple in the photograph.

You take the frame off the table, and hand it to him, your smile genuine.

"What's more unbelievable is Soap ate the cake before we even cut it."

You watch Simon throw Soap an annoyed look, the Scot held his hands up in mock surrender, before joining the others in the kitchen.

Simon heads to the mantlepiece, his fingers tracing over the frames, as if he was trying to bring back every memory by touch.

"There's no doubt we look good together." He smiles, picking up a picture of you both on holiday, the sea in the background, your face beaming as you hold a giant ice cream.

"We had to share that ice cream." You quip, standing next to Simon.

Your cheeks redden as you remember all the sugary kisses afterwards, melting into his arms as he held you close.

Simons gaze flickers over your face, taking in the blush, but not remarking on it further.

"And who's this?" He asks, pointing to a picture of himself, with a dog.

"That's Scout, and in the back is Riley." you point out, your eyes soften.

"My brother owned Scout, and Riley was ours, you brought her home-"

"I brought her home from a mission." He finishes, his gaze steady.

"I remember her."

You smile sadly. He could remember your dog, but not you?

He picks up on the mood change, and offers a hand, and without hesitation, you take it.

"Sorry love. I wish i could remember more."

You shrug it off, as if it wasn't a big deal, and while your heart was breaking, you had to remember he was home. So you put on a watery smile, and change the subject.

"Tea?" You ask.

He nods, and finding his way to the kitchen, it allows you a minute to breathe.

Your eyes take in the first photo he saw, you in a white dress, your smile brightening up the shot, your eyes shining and focused on Simon, who stood tall and broad in a black suit, mask off, his eyes burning back into yours with desire and love.

Tears threatened to fall, and at the sound of laughter from the kitchen, you let them. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you cry, your vision blurring out the real world for a minute.

After a few minutes, you feel strong arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into an embrace. You look up, to see a familiar jaw line, and honeyed eyes.

"He will be okay, petal." Kyle remarks, his voice soft.

You shake your head, how can he be, when he cannot remember the life he's created with you.

Kyle rubs soothing circles on your back. Out of the taskforce, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick felt the most like family, calm, collected, always ready for an adventure, and the one you confided in the most, he was like a brother to you, so it wasn't unusual that he was there to comfort you.

After a few minutes, you caught your breath and took the tissue Kyle offered.

"Thank you, Kyle, i should be grateful he's home, and i am, its just-"

Kyle nodded, his face solemn.

"We are going to give you guys some space, but if you need us, call us, I'm on paperwork duty tonight, so ill be awake."

You sigh, before nodding. You look up to see Price and Soap at the door, sad smiles on their faces. Over the last five years, these men had become your family, and it hit you hard that they must be grieving a friend too. You hug them both, pressing a kiss to each cheek before they head out, a clear understanding that this is the first day of a new life for both you and Simon.

The rest of the evening was consumed by dinner, Simon helping you prepare a basic dish, and asking small questions along the way. The mood felt awkward, hollow, with shallow conversations, Simon caught up with the year without him.

You hide in the bathroom, emotionally strung out. Essentially Simon was a stranger to you now, and while your heart yearned to break down the door and wrap your arms around him, he didn't feel like yours anymore.

You hear him shuffling around in your bedroom, so you go to investigate.

"Jus' looking for some shorts for bed," He calls out, seeing your shape in the doorway.

"I'll take the guest bed tonight, Simon." You say softly, looking everywhere but him.

"You don't have to do that, i will." Came the gruff reply. You look up to find Simon staring at you.

"I know, deep down you are my wife, and you are someone special to me, and i also know that this is a sore situation for you, so I'll take the other room."

You nod, returning to the bathroom, unable to argue with him. All you want is your husband back in your arms.

As you wash your face, and apply your skincare, you notice Simon watching you over your shoulder.

"You still use the vanilla cream?" He asks nonchalantly

You pause. How would he..

"Your dressing gown smells of vanilla in the bedroom. Made me think of cake. I thought the smell could trigger something" He admits sheepishly.

You nod, it had been a favourite of yours, and he routinely brought you more, even on deployment.

"Thank you." Simon says quietly.

You turn around, a questioning look on your face.

"For not giving up on me. For always believing I'd come home."

Your eyes soften, and you nod, unable to speak.

He throws you a smile and heads into the guest room, leaving you to finish rubbing lotion into your skin.

** A FEW HOURS LATER.**

You wake up with a start, a loud noise coming from the guest bedroom, throwing the covers back, you race into the next room.

Simon is drenched in sweat, his eyes unfocused as he tosses and turns in his sleep.

You know better than to wake him physically, so you call to him from the edge on the bed.

"Simon, its me, love. You are home, in the guest bed. You are home. " You chant your mantra a few times, before he groggily opens his eyes, before they settle on you.

"I'm home?" he asks, his voice deep with sleep and fear.

You nod, slowly approaching him.

"Yes, Simon. You are home, its me, you are safe."

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching Simons chest heave, his foggy gaze drinking you in like a cold glass of water on a hot day.

"Love?" He calls, his voice strained, his arms open.

You settle between his arms, your hand stroking his cheek, soothing him.

"I'm here." You assure him.

His breathing evens out, and you hold him closer, your heartbeat settling him.

"I remember the ice cream." he murmurs.

You raise an eyebrow.

"The ice cream?"

"From the photo, i remember it took you forever to eat it, it was when i came home from Paris, and we took a holiday. I remember kissing you after, your laugh as you put some on my nose."

You smile, Your thoughts going back to that day.

"I did, and do you remember the cat we saw, getting all the old ladies to feed it croissants?" You chuckle.

Simon pulls away, his eyes locked on yours, your bodies still close. Your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

"I remember the dress you wore for me that night, love." He remarks, watching you blush.

"I remember it not lasting long on your body." He continues.

His eyes flicked down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.

" I remember a lot, now love. But will you stay until i remember it all, and we can build our lives back together?" He asks, his voice full of vulnerability.

"I promise." You whisper, before his lips press gently against yours.

"I promise you forever."

......................................................................................................................

@kaeyasfuturewife @xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @renpodz @yesornowaitidontknow @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @oniraki @evie-119 @havoc973 @kylies-lover-blog @ishipdabands @cmbghost @heckinspooks @midwesternwitchery @eggy-yoke @redzluvvesage @masterclassofescapism @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @mims900 @skeletonsucker @vmaxis

[sovamurka]

Thinking about how Ma Meilleure Ennemie can be considered a continuation and an interesting thematic expansion of Enemy.

"No shit, lmao, they both have the word enemy in them".

Like, yes, that's exactly the point.

But there's more to it than meets the eye.

We all know that Enemy in many ways is meant to be from Jinx's perspective (music video supports that) - it's HER internal worries, it's HER exhaustingly sad sarcasm, it's HER wreck of emotions that she can't stop.

The song explains why and how she basically convinced herself that she's a curse and will never be a saint no matter what she does.

She exclaims that everybody wants to be her enemy. For her this word means "the person that everyone hates, the person who everyone abandoned, the person for whom no one prays or hopes".

And then in Ma Meilleure Ennemie Ekko... agrees with her - she IS his enemy. But to him this word has so much more meaning and underlying feelings than just "the person I'm against, the person I hate".

For him enemy is also someone who's always near - if not in body, then in mind. Someone who truly shares history with you and can hurt you in more ways than one.

Who you hate so much because you had too much love in your heart for them.

Hatred is not the opposite of love, it's just love with a minus instead of plus, the true opposite of love is indifference. And Ekko feels anything but indifference towards Jinx, even though he tried so many times to convince himself otherwise.

First verse of the song is basically his admission that she's an essential part of him - no matter what he does, no matter how many times he forces himself to forget, no matter how much he tries to keep his enemy out of his mind.

He knows he should stay away, he knows he should keep his own heart under hundreds of locks to not let anyone break it again. But he can't help it. He still loves her despite everything, including his own self.

That's why he also agrees that she's indeed a curse. The most beautiful one. She haunts his thoughts and he hates himself for finding comfort in it. But it's better to be in a bad company than alone, am I right?

The chorus of Ma Meilleure Ennemie sounds almost like a last resort - a mutual attempt to push each other away.

To make matters worse, the whole "meilleur/pire" (best/worst) dichotomy that is constantly present in the song literally from the beginning, is a simple yet clever play on a famous wedding vow - "Pour le meilleur et pour le pire" (translation: for the best and the worst of it). The more they try to convince each other that they should not be together, the more they intertwine their fates because they repeat this vow again and again.

And then in the second verse of Ma Meilleure Ennemie Jinx finally lets herself say things she was so afraid to say before. Lets her feelings and thoughts be known in the most vulnerable way possible. Not with Enemy's upset angry screaming but with this gentle melodic whisper.

And what does she have to say about her feelings towards the person who she shares so much complicated history with?

That his name cuts her open every time she hears it. And that's why she doesn't say it - it hurts her so much.

Ekko's name literally echoes in her mind. Jinx can't even say for sure whether this pain she feels comes from hatred that formed over the years or from pure sweetness, softness and gentleness that she still keeps in her heart for him.

And then comes Je t’avais dit: “Ne regarde pas en arrière” (translation: I told you not to look back) which is such an obvious Orpheus and Eurydice myth reference when you say it out loud.

Albeit, their situation is an interesting take on this myth.

Let me explain. Orpheus had a chance to bring his wife Eurydice back to the land of the living if he guided her there without looking back or else she would end up in the underworld again. There are several versions of the myth that give different explanations on why Orpheus turns back, but they all agree on one thing - it was done because of love.

However, in Ekko's case it's kind of a reverse situation - Jinx will disappear if he turns away from her.

That's what, in my opinion, Turn Your Back and I'll Disappear song means, actually.

And here, at the end of second verse, Jinx explicitly tells Ekko that he shouldn't look back. He should leave past behind, should leave her behind, let her disappear from his life and from this world altogether or else everything will get infinitely worse.

But of course he doesn't, of course he turns back (time) again and again.

He does it because he loves her, just like Orpheus loves Eurydice.

Despite not having much screen time, timebomb still managed to tell such a wonderful intricately woven story.

I analysed just a small part of Jinx and Ekko's symbolic lyricism. Believe me, there's still so much more to talk about and uncover since this story is told through different forms of art that are all worth your attention.

[frogsandfries]

I think I was in like, fourth grade when I first learned there was a group of people called Jews, and that even though most of them look white, like me and about 75% of my peers at the time, they're "other".

I've never, ever been religious, even growing up in a moderately religious family.

Maybe this is where my confusion comes in about why I, a white person, should hate another white person for their religion. Or maybe I'm focusing too hard on the religion thing. After all, in this age of leaving religion behind us, people are Jewish in a way that people are not Christian. Being Jewish is also like being Navajo or being Celt.

My entire childhood, it was hammered into me "don't stare at people just because they look different from you; be kind to everyone; treat everyone in a way you would want to be treated".

My parents are, obviously, older than me. They are chronologically closer to the socio-political upheaval that WWII unquestionably caused. My maternal grandfather could have been in WWII, but I'm not positive about his service record. I guess I've never thought to ask my dad why they didn't teach me about Jews or like, make some kind of point about it. Too little, too late. They didn't make a big deal about how groups of people who look white, like the Romani, the Irish, and the Jewish, are "not white" and why people shun them.

Now, maybe we're getting into the part where, I'm undiagnosed but unquestionably autistic. I still don't understand why black people were chosen to be othered and then traded like livestock. I still don't understand why Catholics and Christians seem to have gotten together and been like "those believers in an Abrahamic god, they're bad and other and we should spend generations upon generations othering and shunning and excluding them."

Honestly, I think there's a lot of nuance about neurotypical humanity that I'll probably never grasp, because when I look at humans with dark skin, I see the usefulness of their dark skin to help them survive the places where their dark skin evolved. When I see humans with pale skin, I see the usefulness of their pale skin to help them survive. When I see humans with epicanthic folds, I see the usefulness of that trait too. All I see in humanity are the ways that we have evolved to live all over this planet, in the mountains, on islands, near volcanos, in wet places, in dry places, in cold places and hot places.

I just can't get over how beautiful the vast variety of humanity is, to get to a place of hate.

I'm not sure there will ever be a sufficient explanation for me to fully grasp why Jews are other and why I should want them eliminated. The Jewish people have also made it for hundreds of generations over thousands of years. At the very, very least, they're as suited to this planet as any Brit or Celt or Navajo or any other group. At the very least, they bring something genetically unique and useful to the human species. They also have their own culture and stories and art and ways of dress. They have their own language and ways of existing in the world, and I think maybe that's blinding me to what seem flimsy and pathetic excuses to cling onto outdated ways of being.

We might share a common ancestor with chimps, but we are not chimpanzees. We have sophisticated language. But instead of using it to appreciate each other and appreciate that we've made it millions of years of evolution to reach this point, we use our sophisticated language skills to hate and hurt, to develop weapons and to use those weapons against each other.

And somehow, this is okay with way too many people???????

“Elon didn’t mean to sieg heil, he’s just autistic”

Do you guys remember when Kanye said he was gonna go “death con” on all the Jews? Do you remember how his apologists said he was just off his bipolar meds? Do you remember that he doubled down, said he didn’t actually have bipolar, and he had been misdiagnosed by a Jew doctor? Do you remember he proceeded to meet with prominent white supremacists and told infowars he was a Nazi who loved Hitler?

Nobody ever believes the Jews the first time, even though our culture has spent literally thousands of years learning the warning signs. We know what we’re looking at. It’s two consecutive Nazi salutes on a white supremacist’s inauguration day. You can downplay it all you want, but this coal mine’s canary isn’t coming back to life.

[rose24207]

An angel

Summary: guilt eats Lando alive when he wants to come clean to you after dating you for a bet. What he didn’t expect was that you would be so understanding and calm about it.

Genre: angst, fluff

Lando x f!reader

TW: Carlos and max being assholes (sryy), Lando too

A/N: I genuinely think that I would also react like this and I think that’s pretty much sums up the person I am :(

Masterlist pt. 2

It was supposed to be a joke. That’s what Lando told himself when it all started. A stupid, harmless joke that spiraled so far out of control, he found himself falling in love with you—only to be crushed by the weight of his own lie.

The bet was Carlos’ idea, though Max quickly joined in. They were sitting together at a bar in Monaco after a long day of training, laughing and teasing each other like they always did. That’s when you walked in, a vision of effortless beauty, with a smile so captivating even the loud music seemed to fade into the background.

Carlos noticed the way Lando’s gaze lingered on you. “You’re staring, mate,” he teased, nudging him.

Max smirked. “Bet you couldn’t get her number.”

Lando rolled his eyes, feigning indifference. “Easy.”

But Carlos upped the stakes. “Forget her number—bet you can’t get her to date you. Three months, minimum. Make her fall for you.”

Lando hesitated, but Max chimed in, grinning. “If you win, we’ll cover your next holiday. Private jet, five-star everything.”

Fueled by bravado, ego, and the lingering effects of too many drinks, Lando shook their hands, sealing the deal.

The plan was simple: charm you, date you for a while, and win the bet. But nothing about you was simple.

When he approached you that night, he expected the same predictable reactions he always got—flustered stammering or overly enthusiastic flirting. Instead, you met him with warmth and genuine curiosity, treating him like a regular guy rather than the celebrity everyone else saw.

He was hooked.

Every date with you felt like uncharted territory. You laughed at his dumb jokes, shared your dreams with him, and listened intently as he opened up about his fears and insecurities. For the first time in his life, Lando felt truly seen.

What started as a game quickly became the most important thing in his life. But the secret of how it began loomed over him, a constant reminder of his betrayal. He told himself he’d find the right time to come clean, but days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months.

And now, three months in, he was drowning in guilt.

It was a quiet evening in his Monaco apartment. You were curled up on the couch, flipping through a magazine while he paced nervously in the kitchen. He had rehearsed this moment a hundred times in his head, but every scenario ended with you walking out the door.

“Y/N?” he called softly, his voice trembling.

You looked up, immediately sensing the tension. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we talk?” he asked, his hands fidgeting.

You set the magazine aside, concern etching your features. “Of course. What’s going on?”

He sat down across from you, his heart pounding. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should’ve told you a long time ago.”

Your brows furrowed. “Okay…”

Lando took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you remember the night we met? At the bar?”

You nodded. “Of course. Why?”

“There’s… something I didn’t tell you about that night.” He hesitated, his stomach churning. “Carlos and Max… they made a bet with me. They bet I couldn’t get you to date me for three months. And I…” He swallowed hard, his eyes welling up. “I took the bet.”

Your expression froze, the weight of his words sinking in. “A bet?”

He nodded, his voice breaking. “At first, it was just stupid. I didn’t think it would matter. But then I got to know you, and everything changed. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N. I swear, this—us—became real so quickly. But I lied to you, and I hate myself for it.”

Silence filled the room as you processed his confession. He braced himself for the anger, the heartbreak, the inevitable goodbye.

But what came next surprised him.

You reached out, taking his trembling hands in yours. “Lando,” you began gently, your voice calm but steady. “Thank you for telling me.”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re not… angry?”

“I won’t lie,” you admitted. “It hurts to know how it started. But what matters more to me is that you told me the truth. You didn’t let me find out from someone else, and I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

Tears spilled down his cheeks as he shook his head. “It wasn’t. I’ve been so scared of losing you, Y/N. You’re everything to me. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I had to tell you. You deserve better than this.”

You squeezed his hands, your own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Lando, everyone makes mistakes. What matters is what you do after. You could’ve kept lying, but you didn’t. You chose honesty, even though it scared you. That says a lot.”

“I love you,” he choked out, his voice raw. “I love you so much. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you, if you’ll let me.”

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you cupped his cheek, wiping away his tears. “I love you too. And I believe you. I believe in us.”

His breath hitched as he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like you were his lifeline. “You’re an angel,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You’re too good for me.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “I’m not an angel, Lando. I’m just someone who loves you enough to see the good in you, even when you make mistakes.”

From that moment on, things changed. Lando became a man on a mission, determined to show you how much he valued you. He went out of his way to make you feel loved and appreciated—surprising you with thoughtful gestures, supporting your dreams, and being more open and vulnerable than ever before.

The guilt still lingered, but your forgiveness gave him the strength to move forward. And as time passed, the scars of the bet faded, replaced by a love that was stronger than ever.

Because at the end of the day, love wasn’t about never making mistakes. It was about owning up to them, learning from them, and choosing each other—no matter what.

And as Lando held you close that night, he silently vowed to never take your love for granted again. You weren’t just the best thing that had ever happened to him—you were his everything.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris

[buckysm]

2:15 am (and i miss you)

ᯓ★part one, part two,

ᯓ★ Bucky Barnes x fem ex hydra AVENGER reader

ᯓ★ part one word count 6k+

ᯓ★a/n: junie’s first post— so please show some love— i hope you like!! my inbox is always open to chat!

ᯓ★ summary: you and bucky strike an unlikely friendship during sleepless nights, and shared cigarettes. when crisis strikes the team is surprises by your hidden bond (i wrote this bc of a little fantasy of being in a secret situationship with bucky and the team finding out when bucky goes feral after reader goes missing during a mission)

ᯓ★ warnings/ tags/ tropes for the whole series: canon? what canon?, haters to lovers -- except you never hated him and he just resented you-- midnight rendezvous, friends to lovers, Anxiety, angst and fluff and smut,  Bucky Needs a Hug, Protective Bucky Barnes Bucky Barnes issues related to past trauma, not so platonic cuddling, slow burn, jealous Bucky Barnes Miscommunication, Mentions of torture off screen (to be added and expanded as i post part two) NOT BETA READ

These are the hands of fate/ You're my Achilles heel/ This is the golden age of something good and right and real

It started with a cigarette.

It started when he had lent you a lighter. He did not smoke, and you didn’t ask him why he had one.  

For him, it started months before then.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Bucky was barely coping when you joined the team. His days muddled by an eternal haze of anger and frustration��His life had been stolen from him, along with his memories from before. He did not feel like he deserved redemption. He had done terrible things, had had terrible things done to him.

He found himself disassociating whenever he wasn’t on a mission. He did not feel real; he couldn’t joke around and feel good without betraying his past. Yet, his past was real, it happened. But Bucky couldn’t just move on, couldn’t just exist without the churning in his gut telling him he was dirty, he was dripping in sin, tarnished by the red in his ledger, filthy to the point of no return.

When he was told about you, his body turned taut with trepidation. Two sides of the same coin. You were injected with serum just like him. Made to do things and had things done to you just like him. And he had heard of you. They had called you serpiente, the serpent, the snake. You were deadly, never made a mistake. No one knew any identifying details about you, not even your gender. 

And it was his mistake, thinking you were a man. He yearned to be understood; maybe he would find companionship in you.

But then, you were not a man. The first time he beheld you, he had just finished a mission for Fury. Secret and dirty, he felt right at home doing SHIELD’s grunt work.

You were walking down the compound, side to side with Black Widow. He had assumed you were one of her brethren, maybe you had trained with her, a black widow yourself. Tony Stark pranced a few paces before you.

“Soldier, good you’re here! Come meet our newest recruit!”

Your smile was disarmingly bright. Pretty. He felt himself grow cold with fury. It was a smile that came easily to you. And your eyes, frustratingly  soft. You seemed at peace with yourself, and he hated that.  

He just stared at you in response. Eyes hard. Waiting for you to react to his lack of reciprocity. You didn’t bite his hook, just lightly pursed your lips and took his glare in stride. 

“Nice to meet you, Stark was telling me about you, all good things, don’t worry. But I had heard about you from before—you know—we do have in common h-”

“We have nothing in common.” He snarled before walking away, fuming. How dare you? How dare you make chit-chat about the thing that haunted his life. Every waking hour, every nightmare he was haunted by his past. And you wanted to…what? Talk about it over jokes? No. He decided you had nothing in common.

Maybe your body count was higher than his, and he chose to ignore the elephant in the room. The fact that you were a beautiful woman and that that could be a weapon as much as it could be a vulnerability.

He hated you a bit more each time he saw you get along with the rest of the team. How dare you? 

He had thought, had been so sure, that the reason he was disliked was because of his past. But that wasn’t it, was it? Because you and the black widow seemed to do just fine. Maybe he was just broken, and maybe you had been too, but you had fixed yourself just fine. Parallel wounds, yours had healed, while his had festered like a virus. How dare you?

His despise grew with each smile, each laugh, each time you were slapped on the back.

Everything came to a head when he found you on the balcony. He had thought it was his balcony. His.

It wasn’t a balcony, more of a ledge. A floor that had been destroyed during a hulk mishap, had not been fixed, and did not look like it would be anytime soon. 

The wind was strong. You stood at the edge, facing the precipice. You seemed so peaceful. 

He stared at your profile, illuminated by the city lights. Your expression was sad. He had never seen it like that. Your lips tight, eyes fluttered shut. Where you about to jump?

He walked toward you, deliberately moving his limbs so that you heard his footsteps.

You turned unhurriedly, your eyes opening slowly. There was a small moment where he saw you, your unguarded face. He was too involved in his stupor he had not considered the possibility of it all being a facade. But months had passed, and your mask hadn’t slipped. Until now.

It was only a fraction of a vulnerable moment before you schooled your features. And it angered him for some reason. Seeing you so easily slip into the practiced mask. It made him just like the rest of them, taking you at face value, not digging deeper past your pretty face, sparkling eyes, and gleaming smile. But then he was angry at both himself for not looking past and you for pretending. 

Before he could stop himself, before he could think, words were coming out of his mouth faster than he processed them. 

“Do not do that, don’t do that.”

You sighed, your mask falling to one of disdain. You looked disappointed in him, exasperated. It was a look of derision, he felt scorned, and yet it was better than the fake platitudes. 

“Do what? Now, what am I doing that deserves your anger?”

“Pretending,” Bucky grunted.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “So what am I supposed to do according to you, huh?” You walked away from the ledge toward him. He towered over you, head lowered to meet your defiant gaze. “Am I supposed to growl, frown, and hate myself for things I can’t control? Well, guess what, been there, done that! And, hey—guess again what happened. I hated it. So what if I am faking it? Maybe if I fake it hard enough, it’ll come true.”

“What’ll come true?” Bucky asked beside himself, snarling.

“Wanting to live, not letting them win. Because if I hate myself, then they win.” Your angry gaze wavered, turning sad. You looked away from him towards the city skyline. “I’ll go now, leave you alone to your self-hatred and whatever….” You started making your way to the battered elevator doors.

Bucky sighed, exasperated. “No, stay. I’m sorry.”

You had stopped walking away, your footsteps silent, but some sixth sense told him you had in fact paused.

He turned toward you. “I’m sorry.” He echoed.

You nodded, moving towards the ledge and sitting on it.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“Careful there, doll face.” His voice was gruff. “Don’t want you to fall off.”

You stiffened slightly, taken off guard, not for the first time tonight. The sweet nickname coupled with his harsh voice made heat rise to your cheeks. You decided to appear as if you took it in stride. Not wanting him to know just how much his words meant to you. Wanting to hear him call you that forever.

Because as much as you told yourself otherwise, it had hurt when he brushed you off. You had looked up to him. 

You didn’t have any memories of your past before the experiments or the training, so maybe it was different for him. He had a life that was taken away from him — and you were just now learning to have one.

You heard about him, heard him even.  Heard his screams sometimes. Your handlers wanted to teach you a lesson of what would happen when you didn’t behave.

It was clear he did not remember you. Why would he? When you passed each other in the hydra bases, he didn’t know who you were; that was part of your deal. No one expected a pretty girl to have a body count as high as yours. 

Bucky had killed about 20-something people, important ones. You knew that Natasha had a count of about six hundred and had shared the fact with you. Bucky had been Hydra’s tool, he was used in important missions only. While you…were a gun for hire basically. A knife for hire. You used your charms on men and women alike to disarm them enough. Your kills were always up close and personal. Sometimes you had to put yourself in compromised positions to do so. Bucky never had to. 

You knew that he had to be put under a lot, had to have his brainwashed again and again, and conditioned an inhumane amount of times. His brain rebelled, he had a life. Somewhere, deep in his subconscious, he had memories or faint encodings of a life outside.

But you were awake all of the time. You did things because there was no other option. You had to survive. You didn’t know otherwise.

You pondered in silence. And when it became too much for you, you fumbled into one of the multiple pockets on your jacket for your cigarettes. You stiffened when you remembered you had left the lighter on your bedside counter. “Damn it.”

“What’s wrong, doll.” His voice was curious, less rough. He was standing somewhere behind you. You could feel the weight of his stare.

You wanted to comment on the pet names— but you didn’t want him to stop, so you swallowed a snarky remark. “I forgot my lighter.”

He made his way toward you, movements swift as he sat next to you, feet dangling on the edge. You understood him now, didn’t want him to fall. 

He slid his hand onto the pockets of his cargo pants and came out with a lighter.

You smiled at him. His eyes never strayed from yours as he placed the lighter in your hand. 

His eyes were beautiful, darker than usual under the low light.

You tore away from his gaze. Placing a cigarette between your lips, you cupped the lighter and flicked it on.

You took a drag of the cigarette, enjoying the burn. Enjoying the strong scent, stronger than other cigarettes. It made your head light.

Banner had made them for you after you expressed sadness about not being able to enjoy any substances.

You heard a sniff. He had noticed it too.

You waited a second, leaving the smoke in your lungs, before exhaling. “It’s enhanced with something, Banner made it for me.”

He hummed. 

“You want one?” You looked at him from the corner of your eyes, not wanting to turn your face fully.

“Thanks for offering doll, but I don’t smoke.”

You hummed, taking another drag. “Not even before?” your question was tentative, you wanted to see if he would open up to you.

He hummed softly. “I did yes, once or twice. But Steve couldn’t handle the secondhand smoke, so I stopped. Little asthmatic punk…”

Silence stretched out as you enjoyed the lightheaded sensation. Your limbs loosened, and you felt free. 

“D’ya miss him?” You turned fully toward him.

His eyes never strayed from the skyline as he answered,“I do. It’s different, we’ve both changed a lot. You know how it is, losing the past.”

“I don’t know, not really…” your voice was soft and resigned. 

His eyes flashed to yours. You didn’t know what to do with the full weight of his stare. “What do you mean by that doll?” His brows were furrowed. 

You sighed, not wanting to get into it. “It’s late…” You took out your AVENGER-sanctioned phone to check the time, 2:15 A.M.

“I’m going to sleep.” You lied. And you couldn’t stop more words from tumbling out of your mouth. Clumsy and rushed. “Same time tomorrow?”

A ghost of a smile pulled slightly at the corner of his lips. “See you doll face. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams Jamie.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Jamie. Jamie. Jamie. Jamie….

He had been too quick to judge, and now he couldn’t get you out of his thoughts. His sleep was fitful, but he was granted a reprieve from his nightmares. Dreaming instead of the multitudes in your eyes. 

It was a slow day in the compound. He had a routine during slow days, he would go to his favorite training room and lose himself. The training room itself didn’t lack anything, but he had marked his territory with his glares at anyone who entered. He had achieved an unspoken ownership of that particular room.

After having you torment his dreams, however, he had to see you in person. He tried to contain himself, he started his routine in the training room. 

It lasted 42 minutes. 

No amount of dagger throws could get him to calm down. 

He found you on the tower’s common floor.

You hunched over a table, Banner at your side. Coming down was worth it.

“Well, good morning there Sarge, nice of you to come out of your room and join the land of the living.”

And he immediately regretted it.

“Stark!” Two voices proclaimed in tandem. You and Steve jumped to defend him, Steve’s voice was sharp, and yours was a playful whine.

“What? I’m just saying, he’s acting like a teenager!” Stark’s voice was a defensive grumble. He tinkered with the toaster in the kitchen area. 

“Oh as opposed to you, who behaves so maturely?” The tone of your voice was playful but had a hidden bite to it. Bucky couldn’t help but appreciate it.

You turned to smile at him, Steve turned to bicker with Tony. Bucky rolled his lips and moved to grab a mug, he poured himself a cup before walking away. 

He barely heard Stark’s remark on his parting, mentally berating himself for caring about the hurt look that soured your face when he did not return your smile. He shouldn’t care, caring was dangerous. It made him vulnerable and put him in a position where he could be easily hurt again.

He had to be careful, He did not want to break down the walls he had put up protecting himself and others from himself.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You almost didn’t show up. Hurt but not surprised by his attitude.

You paced the room you had on Natasha’s floor. She was not home, leaving you to pace away your conflicting thoughts.

Your heart had skipped a beat when he showed up. He never showed up, he was a ghostly presence in the compound. Part of the team, but never there for ‘team building exercises’…

It was 2:14 when you rushed to the elevator, a pounding of indecision in your chest. You told yourself it was curiosity. You needed to know more about him, needed to figure him out - maybe then you would be able to understand why he made you want…-

The silent elevator ride left you time to think

He is hurt, just projecting/ This could end badly/ This could end with a friendship/ He was an asshole/ He just needs a friend/ At the cost of your sanity?/

Two inner voices argued with each other in the back of your mind. You let them.

The elevator stopped, the doors slid open and there he was. The voices went quiet as soon as your eyes fell on him.

He leaned against a thick construction support post, overlooking the city skyline, his back to you.

“Nice of you to join me doll.”

DOLL?! Asshole, he dared to call you doll- yet acted coldly toward you in public?! You grunted angrily, mimicking his usual blasé attitude and walking to stand beside him, not looking at him.

A storm of anger raged inside you as you stared at the beautiful Manhattan skyline.

“Is everything alright doll?” His voice was softer, and you weren’t as angry anymore.

Yes he hadn’t smiled at you, but what exactly had made you expect that from him? Yes, he called you doll, but he was from the forties. Plus he hadn’t smiled at you before. And-what?  You had one conversation and suddenly you expected him to smile at you? You were delusional! This man was set in his ways, and maybe he was bored, but it meant nothing. He was bored and lonely, and you were overthinking everything. You were new at this, at socialization. Genuine socializing. You socialized a lot for your HYDRA days, but this was new. You were used to having the upper hand, being the one in control.

You sighed out your exasperation, letting your tense shoulders loosen.

“Mhm…” your eyes never strayed from the city.

You stood in comfortable silence. You were an expert at working yourself into a stupor. But honestly, you were about… twenty, twenty-one (you lost time during HYDRA). Yet you felt emotionally stunted- of course you did. You never had the chance to actually develop skills people your age did.

“This feels like a dream. Like I am hallucinating being free, and I will wake up from passing out due to torture and be back in my cell…” Words tumbled out of your mouth. You were also bored and lonely. Faking your way with the others made you exhausted.

He made no response, but you could tell he understood. And that was enough.  You fumbled for your cigarettes. He slid a lighter from his pocket, handing it to you wordlessly.

You took it from his hand, inhaling to light your smoke. 

“You know? it’s dumb… but I sometimes feel like screaming at them… like something deep inside of me yearns to scream and kick and throw whatever is around- to get out all my pent-up energy, maybe then I can pass out from exhaustion and sleep. And yea- the novelty of being free, and being in the fucking Avengers is slowly wearing off, and I just-” you sighed, you were talking and maybe he wasn’t even interested in hearing you whine. “And whatever, I should be grateful… it’s dumb…” You stopped yourself. Letting in the chilly New York air into your lungs. 

“No, doll, it’s not dumb.” He turned to look at you, forcing you face the full weight of his gaze. He was devastatingly beautiful. Your inhale was sharp. “Don’t feel bad about being angry, it’s valid feeling this way.”

You smiled then, “look at you, giving emotional advice. Who knew you were a big softy underneath that grouchy, grumbling exterior.”

He scoffed, but you could tell there was no real meaning behind it. Your smile grew.

His eyes lowered to your lips for a charged moment, before looking back to the city. “Those who can’t do, teach-”  His lips tugged slightly upwards, a glimpse of a smile.

You took a drag of your cigarette, staring unashamedly at his profile. “What do you do, when you are not brooding? Like what does one do for fun around here?”

“At two am in the afternoon doll, those who aren’t sleeping…” he trailed off, a soft pink brightening his cheeks

“Are what?” your grin was teasing.

“Are on a mission or something.” His voice came out slightly strangled. 

“Or something…” you murmured, a yawn escaping you.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “So, you really liked big band music? Kind of… classy for a guy who threw himself off buildings.”

 “Hey, a man can appreciate good music and bad decisions.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “Stark’s fine, sometimes… but his ego’s bigger than his bank account.”

 “If I had his money, I’d buy a planet and avoid people altogether.” You sighed, 

 “Doll, you’d get bored in two days.”

 “True. I’d need at least one grump to frown at me” 

He couldn’t hide his soft grin.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “Paris. You think it’s as romantic as everyone says?”

“Probably less if I was there...”

 “You’re right. You’d make it a lot more broody.”

“And you’d make it a lot more… sneaky. You’d blend into the shadows and pickpocket tourists.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “I could live off this forever.” Your spoke around a mouthful of pizza

Bucky grimaced “Takeout pizza? You call that food?”

 “Says the man who probably ate spam for dinner in the ‘40s.”

“Now doll, it was a delicacy back then.”

 “Spam’s not a delicacy in any era, Barnes.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“You ever thought about getting a pet? Like a dog or something?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow “Me, with a dog? Not sure I’d be a good influence.”

“Nah, they’d se through you.”

“I’m more of a cat person.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “I like the quiet moments just before dawn. No one’s around to bother you.”

“Night’s better. Everyone’s already asleep. Feels like you’re the only one left.”

 “Until you realize there’s still someone like me lurking in the dark.”

 “Yeah, lucky me.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “So, any weird phobias? Mine’s spiders. Too many legs.”

Bucky shrugged “Needles. After Hydra? No thanks.”

You nodded. “Yeah, makes sense. But hey, at least you could crush a spider for me. And I can catch all your bulk when you pass out at the sight of a needle.”

“Ha, ha.” 

Someday, you’d get a real laugh out of him

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “If you weren’t a super soldier, what would you be doing?”

“Maybe a mechanic. Fixing cars, quiet life. You?”

 “Bartender. People tell you their secrets. It’s like espionage, but with cocktails.”

 “Sounds dangerous doll. What’s in the drink?”

You grinned “Depends on who’s asking.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“I keep getting these flashes… Steve dragging me to Coney Island, insisting I’d love it. Turns out, I hate roller coasters.”

You rolled your lips, deciding on what to say “I don’t have any memories before hydra, but I dream about falling. Maybe I would love roller coasters.”

“I’ll take your word for it, doll. I prefer solid ground now.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“You ever feel like the idea of ‘freedom’ is just another way to trap us? Like, what do we even do with it?”

“I dunno. Still figuring that out. But it beats following orders like a puppet.”

“Yeah. I just wish freedom came with an instruction manual.”

“If it did, doll, I’d probably ignore it. I don’t need another piece of paper dictating my life..”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You were late, and Bucky was ready to leave when he heard the elevator doors open. You held a full white plastic bag.

“Honey, I’m home, and I brought dinner!” you had a slight spring in your step, he turned toward you, a smile of pleasure and relief made its way into his expression without his consent. Your steps faltered slightly, your brows furrowing for a moment before a beaming smile took over, your eyes twinkling.  It was real, not a sarcastic grin, a smile! Your response only made his smile more pronounced -slightly, but still-.

“It’s good that you don’t smile, if you did people would pass out on the spot.”

He couldn’t stop the small laugh making its way out of his mouth. “Not you?”

“Not me, I’m made of stronger stuff.” You sat next to him, a bit farther from the ledge than usual. 

He followed suit, crouching in front of you. He took note of the way you eyed his legs, of your inhale, of the way you had to force yourself to look away.

“I wonder what would make you pass out.” His mouth ran away from his brain.

“Maybe take me to a fancy restaurant then you can try and find out.”

The thought made his heart race, he stopped himself from thinking about it. You were joking, it was friendly— you weren’t serious.

“I could, we could go on a few dates, and you would end it when you realize I’m too old and bitter for you doll. Maybe it’s best we stay here at 2:15 am where I can lend you a light.”

Your face soured to a pout. “Well I like my men a little bit older. But if you are telling me I’m not your type and you like old ladies, well then I can handle rejection, not the worst thing I’ve lived through.” Your smile was sarcastic, yet he could tell there was hurt behind your eyes.

“No doll, I don’t think anyone could reject you even if they tried.” 

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Your heart raced at his words, caught off guard by their raw sincerity. You weren’t used to hearing compliments, not ones that felt real anyway. A flippant remark was on the tip of your tongue, ready to deflect the tension, but it got stuck.

“You ever think about it? You know… dating?”

He snorted softly, “Who would date me? I’ve got more shit to deal than anyone would want to deal with.”

You grinned “Hey, at least you’re mysterious. I’m more… ‘potential assassin.’”

 “Ah, the classic ‘will she kill me on the first date’ dilemma. I can hide the metal arm, but you can’t hide the serial killer smile.”

You laughed loudly, shoving him playfully.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

It was a few weeks after the initial meeting, and meeting had become a habit, a tradition of sorts. 

You gave him a shy smile when others were present, and he reciprocated with a soft look in his eyes. 

He knew he was being obvious with his staring, but he couldn’t help himself from looking at you.

He leaned on the counter, eyes flicking to and from you. He beheld as you smiled and laughed with the rest. He had a bit of jealousy that you weren’t bestowing the smile upon him, but he held non of the contempt from before.

He sensed an annoying presence beside him.

“Hey creep, why don’t you join us for drinks tonight? As luck would have it, even your star-spangled ass is joining us.”

Said star-spangled ass turned to glare at Tony, his expression turning into a smile as his eyes shifted toward Bucky.

“Yeah, come with us, you’ll have fun, we promise.” 

A myriad of yeahs chorused from the rest of the team, including you. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he looked at the ceiling. “Whatever.” He muttered.

“Well that wasn’t a no!” you grinned, acknowledging him.” Your smile so bright he couldn’t take it. 

He sighed, and grumbled incoherently before turning to hide his blush and walking away.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You smiled to yourself as he retreaded. 

Natasha bumped your shoulders together. “He stares at you so much, I have no clue if he hates you or wants you. Maybe both!” 

“Nat, don’t be rude, it’s probably because I’m new.”

She smirked, “Sure.” You hadn’t been new for a while.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

He was anxious. It took him forty minutes to place where the tight feeling in his chest was coming from. But it came down to you. It always came down to you as of late.

Steve had an arm around his shoulders, and he was blabbering on about how much fun these rare night outs were, where everyone was present.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t you talking to some guy. Enthusiastic hand gestures and a dazzling smile on your face as some random guy looked at you with an entranced smile.

He felt bile rising in his throat. 

He wanted to turn around and walk away, but that would have been too obvious. So he walked in with his stomach dropping with anguish.

He was out of it, sipping a drink that Steve had handed him. His tastebuds not even processing the taste of his drink.

“Yo! Joe Goldberg, knock it out with the serial killer stare.” 

He felt a smack on his shoulder. He reluctantly tore his eyes away from you.

“What are you talking about?” he grumbled. Smooth. Real smooth.

Even though she was shorter than him, Natasha towered over Bucky. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to check it. It’s getting really weird.”

He felt a hand fist in his heart, tight. He downed the drink and sighed. Think Bucky. Think. “It’s not like that.” He was quiet for a few moments, formulating a response.

“Well then explain, why you keep staring at her like you want to strangle her.”

“I don’t want to— fuck.” He placed the empty glass on the table. “She’s also from Hydra.” He stated.

“Yeah, duh.” Natasha looked at him with contempt.

He needed to fix the fact that she thought he was some sort of obsessed weirdo…. He wasn’t!

“She’s so, normal, happy. And she…” he trailed off. 

Natasha’s expression shifted to one of understanding. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” He looked to Steve, who tried to seem like he wasn’t listening to the conversation.

“Bucky, you’re-” Natasha placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going to get another drink.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You could tell something was wrong when you stepped out of the elevator. He was quiet, not the usual kind, brooding. You acted like you always did, but you could tell his heart wasn’t in it. 

“Bucky, is everything alright?” your voice was soft.

His reply was an irritated huff. You waited for a few moments, letting him have his space.

The night was cold, you had worn thick cotton clothing. He wore a hoodie and pants, they looked comfortable, but the man in them did not.

You hummed, and moved closer toward him, he leaned on a pillar,

“Big mission tomorrow huh?” You shifted tactics. It wasn’t odd for him to have a quiet night, where you just sat in companionable silence. This was different though… he was angry about something. Some insecure part of you told you he was mad at you. But there wasn’t any foundation to that, was there? 

He grunted in response. He was making you anxious. You sighed loudly, deciding on either having a smoke or going to bed. The stilted silence making you anxious, a pressure hard on your chest. You tried to exhale it out, but it wouldn’t budge.

You let him wallow next to you for a few minutes before giving up and turning to face him. You placed a soft hand on his forearm, about to say goodnight. He flinched harshly and your heart twisted. He grimaced, eyes shifting to you before flitting away. 

“Bucky, if you need, I-” your voice had a nervous tinge to it, and you hated it. You were glad when he interrupted you.

“Go to sleep doll.” His voice was sad, his face resigned. 

You furrowed your brows, studying his expression. You had the urge to kiss him on the cheek for good luck but knew that you would break if he flinched away.

“Goodnight Jamie…”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You walked away, turning your head twice to smile at him sadly. He held your gaze as the elevator doors closed, removing you from his field of vision. Taking you away from him. 

“Fuck.” His voice was soft and defeated. He looked at the city skyline. His eyes glossing over. He wanted to get the self-hatred out, to hit the wall, break his knuckles, and kick at the litter on the floor. But he let it sit, let it fester in his chest. A leech that grew bigger as it fed on the churning,  loathsome thoughts overwhelming his brain.

He crumpled with the ease of a paper, falling to the ground,

His limbs splayed as he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t take it. Any of it. He always told himself he was strong. He was The Winter Soldier, for fuck’s sake! And here he was, crying over a girl. But that wasn’t it. Or it wasn’t just that. It was the fact that he was too soft for all of it. And he was still somewhat human at the end of the day. He still had emotions, and he was starved for comfort. He lacked connection. And he was okay without it, had gone so so long without, he had grown used to the lack. But then you had come into his sanctuary and ruined everything, and he let you. He felt a kinship with you. You had gone through hell and back, had walked the same road as him, and you smiled so big, your eyes twinkled so bright. He couldn’t help but fall into your orbit. Admiring you from afar. 

Maybe it was better when he hated you, it was something he was used to, it was comfortable. He did not know what to do with all these feelings, hadn’t felt them before, not even in the 40’s. He was happy then, it was normal for him to smile. He didn’t know to appreciate it. Yes, there was war, but there was hope, and there was also Captain America there to save him, but then Steve wasn’t there anymore. And any sliver of hope was quickly crushed under gleaming leather Hydra boots. He was going to die someday on a Hydra mission, he had made his peace with that. But Steve did save him, a little too late. He wasn’t Bucky anymore and did not feel like he had any right to the mantle of Captain America’s best friend. And some parts of him did want that still, but all of him yearned to be your Jamie.

And now bitter and traumatized, he held a flower in his calloused hands, and he didn’t know if he was worthy of it. He couldn’t breathe.

He was going to die here, and he couldn’t go in peace because he wanted to see you one more time. He couldn’t stand up, he couldn’t move, He keened in pain like a puppy. 

Pathetic, get up. Voices from Hydra spewed venom, wracking through his psyche. He clenched his jaw and groaned from deep in his throat.

Broken…unworthy…killer…tainted…

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The mission was successful. The team had divided in two, his group had finished earlier.

He felt better, exhausted. It had been a long mission, he was covered in grime and blood. 

It was rare for him to get to the point of exhaustion, but he had dived head first into hand-to-hand combat, not letting up, ignoring black widow’s knowing looks. 

Freshly showered and changed into sweats, Bucky let himself fall face-first into his too-soft bed. Days of restless sleep coupled with today’s exertion weighed his body down, and pulled his mind into sweet sweet oblivion.

He woke with a start, looked at the clock, and sat up. 3:22 A.M. 

He had stood you up. He rushed to the elevator and up to the floor. His thoughts raced with self criticism and hatred. He breathed out a frustrated sigh, you weren’t there.

Of course you weren’t there, he had been over an hour late.

He grumbled to himself all the way down to the common floor. His footsteps skidded to a stop when he found all the lights on and a flurry of activity.

Hawkeye typing furiously into a computer, Black Widow pacing the floor on the floor, her hands fiddling with some tech stuff. Steve was curled over a tablet, his hands clenched around the edge of a countertop.

Bucky stopped. The other team hadn’t come back.

“What’s wrong… where is she?” His chest felt tight.

Steve motioned at him to come near while the other two ignored him.

“Look, Bucky, I know you have some fondness for her, but I need you to calm down. She’s — uh— she’s missing…”

His ears started ringing; he didn’t hear anything after that. He took deep breaths, running his hands through his hair. It was longer, he needed a hair cut, maybe you could cut his hair. Yeah, that sounded nice. 

He stilled. Breathing in deep, “give me the details, I’ll have her back with me within the hour.”

He didn’t recognize his voice. Black Widow and Hawkeye had turned their heads to stare at him with wide eyes. 

“Bucky, calm down, she’s alive from what we can tell, we can’t deal with y- we have to focus on finding her right now.”

“I am focused. I will find her.” His voice, it was gruffer, the language wasn’t english. He was reverting back…

Iron Man decided it was the best moment to walk in.

Bucky, The Winter Soldier turned around with intent. He had some inkling of what he must have  looked like, a menace— because as Iron Man was opening his mouth to make some snarky remark, his jaw clenching shut, hands rising in surrender. 

“Где она, где моя кукла?” Where is she, where is my doll?. 

His voice had a deadly cadence, he spoke and meant death.

“She’s okay, Wanda has her.” Black Widow had placed the radio on a table. She walked toward The Soldier slowly.

Wanda, the deadly witch saved from Sokovia. He remembered her. She was strong. Not strong enough. 

He leveled his eyes on her. “скажи мне где, или ты умрешь.” tell me where, or die.

Her eyes grew hard “Calm down soldier, there is no need to threaten anyone.” 

The tension was palpable then, rising… rising-

The Doors opened to you limping… being supported by the witch and the doctor. 

His shoulders slumped. He shifted toward you, but something blocked his path,  he looked down to see Steve’s arm pushing against his chest. The enemies’s stance were on the offence, about to attack, keep her from him. He was about to threaten his best friend  The Captain to move when-

“Jamie…”  

His gaze flashed toward to you. You pushed away from them, limping— stumbling toward him.

He met no resistance this time as he rushed softly toward you.

Your knees buckled as he wrapped his arms around you. You collapsed against him. 

You sobbed softly- and he broke. His arms strong and soft as he held you close.

He didn’t care about anything, he didn’t care how the scene looked, he didn’t care that they all knew for certain now. He loved you.

He just needed to know you were okay.

He held you as you shook, “I thought, I was back there Jamie, I- thought I wasn’t going to- to see you again. I thought, he would get lonely, and- and- I was going to miss you- they- they- I didn’t care about any of it. I just thought about you….” You sobbed, trying to get words out. “I got out- I killed them all, I couldn’t face it, couldn’t face not- I killed…” For you. 

“kukla…” Doll.“you’re here, you’re ok, let’s get you to the infirmary. You are hurt, and bleeding…”

His voice was so, so soft —dense with remnants of russian. His arms holding you together.

He ignored it all, ignored the dropped jaws and furrowed brows, you came first. He had shown you as his vulnerability, but he first had to be sure his Achilles heel would be okay.

Please remember to leave your kind thoughts in the comments, and if you enjoyed support with reblogs, ok thanks for reading be back with part two soon!!!!

[mylovesstuffs]

Entry #02

24.01.2025 - 02:52

The fact that so many people here feel self-conscious and insecure about their smiles breaks my heart. It’s disheartening, to say the least. I know I’m here trying to comfort you all, but reading your responses makes me feel a little lighter though I know it’s cruel of me to admit. I usually don’t like to be vulnerable, not online and definitely not in public, but for your sake, and because I understand how it feels, I’ll share why I feel that way.

It’s because I’m insecure too.

To the point where COVID was a relief for me because wearing masks in public became normalized. From 2020 to 2025, I’ve been wearing a mask every single day and I'm not exaggerating.

To the point where my friends unmask me once every two months (because I don't unmask every time they want) just so they don’t forget what I look like.

To the point where I only have 12 unmasked photos of myself as a teenager.

To the point where I’ve become known as “the mask girl.”

To the point where people shame me for wearing a mask indoors and outdoors.

To the point where I’m often targeted or pressured by others to unmask myself.

To the point where my juniors have never even seen my face.

But what really hit me is realizing so many of you feel insecure about your smiles. I thought I was alone in this. For me, it’s my smile too. It’s something I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember. It surprises me because, to me, I’ve never seen a bad smile in my entire life. Not one. Truly. People even make fun of me for finding everyone attractive and beautiful, but I do! Everyone is unique in their own way. I genuinely think everyone is unique and beautiful. What you see in the mirror isn’t what others see. People see you differently than you see yourself, they see beauty where you might not. Yet here I am, telling you this, even though I can’t seem to believe it about myself or apply it in my life. I hate my smile. I hate it to the point that I avoid it entirely. And it hurts even more because my own father has been the one to point it out. My family knows how sensitive I am about it, and they go out of their way to avoid making me feel worse. But my father doesn’t realize this. He’s told me outright several times not to smile or laugh with my teeth showing (as if I could laugh any other way).

It broke me. To know that everyone around me understood that except him. To him, it’s not a big deal. To him, he's oblivious. Though I know he has a bit of a narcissistic personality but it's not that bad. Laughing and smiling are involuntary, natural expressions of joy or amusement—things that happen without much thought. So to tell me not to smile or laugh feels deeply unfair, even cruel, when you think about it. I’ve been made to feel self-conscious about even being happy. But at the same time, I know he isn’t intentionally trying to hurt me. He’s just oblivious to how deeply his words affect me. And that’s the tricky part, isn’t it? People often don’t realize how their comments especially about something as personal as physical appearance can linger. The logical side of me knows he doesn’t mean harm. But the emotional side of me can’t help but feel the weight of those words. It’s a reminder that even the people closest to us, the ones we expect to understand us best, can sometimes miss the mark entirely.

So yeah, I guess that’s why I felt a strange sense of comfort knowing that others feel this way too. It’s not something we can always control, but maybe it’s something we can learn to embrace. And from the bottom of my heart, I know that if SEVENTEEN ever knew about this, they’d be the first to hug us. As their fans, their friends, or someone even closer to them, they’d want us to know how special we are. How beautiful we are. They’d remind us that our smiles—the ones we hate—are the ones that light up their world. Insecurities often feel like a big deal to us, even if others might think they're trivial or wonder why we're bothered by them. But the truth is, insecurities are deeply personal and sensitive, and because of that, we should really be kind and understanding toward one another.

You’re not alone. And you are so, so much more beautiful than you think.

OT13 reacting to their s/o who loves smiles but feels insecure about showing their teeth

Request: Halooo I am the same anon that req wisdom tooth drabble!!! So can I req for svt ot13 s/o that love smile but never showed their teeth cause they're insecure with it?? I do have an open bite and I do be jealous w ppl that can smile with their normal teeth 🥲🥲 Also can I be ur ⭐️ anon??

A/N: This is dedicated to all kinds of smiles—big, small, toothy, closed, crooked, or perfectly aligned. It’s easy to compare ourselves to others, especially when society has such rigid standards for something as personal as a smile. But the truth is, the world isn’t looking for perfect smiles; it’s looking for your smile—the one that lights up the people around you, the one that reflects your joy, and the one that makes you you. Whether you’re someone who shows off their teeth confidently or someone who keeps their smiles shy, you are absolutely radiant just the way you are. I hope this reaction brings you warmth, and maybe even a little courage to embrace your smile, because SEVENTEEN and I think it’s the best one there is. Thank you for reading, and remember: your smile is a gift, not just to you but to everyone lucky enough to see it! 💛

I definitely encourage you to read everyone's part, especially Minghao's.

Seungcheol: Cheol would notice right away how you always smile with your lips closed. He’d encourage you without pushing too hard, so you’d catch him saying things like, “I love it when you smile—it’s my favorite thing about you.” And when you explain why you’re self-conscious, his protective mode kicks in. In his mind, you’re perfect exactly as you are. He’d make a habit of kissing your forehead after every smile, as if to say, Thank you for sharing this with me. Warm, comforting, and always your biggest cheerleader.

Jeonghan: Jeonghan is a tease—but in the sweetest way possible. He’d catch you hiding your teeth and tease you playfully about how even your shy smile could start a fan club. But deep down, he’d be the FIRST to remind you that nobody’s smile is ‘wrong’. He’d even come up with ridiculous scenarios like, “If anyone says anything about your teeth, I’ll report them to Smile Security.” Sure, it’s dramatic, but somehow it’s comforting. With him, you’d slowly start to see your smile through his eyes: bright, genuine, and absolutely worth showing off.

Joshua: Shua’s the ‘patient and reassuring’ type. He’d never rush you into anything but would always make it known how much he loves your smile—whether or not it shows your teeth. He’d probably sit with you one evening and casually mention how he used to be insecure about something too, just to remind you that everyone has their struggles. The way he’d look at you every time you smiled? Pure love and admiration. Slowly but surely, you’d start feeling like, Maybe my smile isn’t so bad after all.

Jun: Junhui wouldn’t even let you finish explaining your insecurity before he’d start showering you with compliments. He’d be so sweet and genuine about it too, like, “What? But your smile is so pretty! Have you seen yourself?” He’d probably find little ways to make you smile more, through goofy antics or heartfelt gestures. The best part? He’d never let you feel like you had to change—he loves your smile, whether it’s teeth-showing or not. And his genuine enthusiasm? It’s impossible not to feel a little brighter around him.

Hoshi: Hoshi would make it his personal mission to see your biggest, toothiest smile. He’s dramatic like that. He'd do the silliest things to make you laugh, like impersonating the other members or dancing in the weirdest ways (mind you he's performance team leader TT). When you finally let out a full smile, he’d stop mid-act and just stare. “Wow. That’s the one. That’s the smile that could light up a stadium.” And you’d know he’s not exaggerating (even though he’s Hoshi and exaggerates everything). It’s just how he loves—with his whole heart. I'm feeling soft :(

Wonwoo: He’d notice your insecurities but wouldn’t bring them up directly. Instead, would focus on making you comfortable and appreciated. He’d probably start complimenting you in subtle ways, like, “Your smile is really nice,” or “You look happiest when you smile.” Over time, his steady reassurance would make you feel less self-conscious. And when you finally smile without holding back, he’d just give you that soft, proud look, as if to say, See? I knew it was beautiful.

Woozi: Woozi would be a mix of logical and sweet about it. He’d listen to your reasons and then quietly debunk every single one of them, like, “Who said teeth have to be perfect to make a smile beautiful? That’s nonsense.” He’d focus more on how your smile makes him feel—happy, loved, and lucky to know you. And if you ever caught him sneaking a photo of you smiling? Just know it’s because he wants to remember how happy you looked in that moment.

Dokyeom: Oh boy, Seokmin would be all over this. He lives for smiles, especially yours. He’d probably start a whole campaign to make you feel better about it, complete with compliments, funny jokes, and random bursts of Look at that gorgeous smile! energy. You’d have no choice but to smile around him because he’s just that infectious. And when you finally let out a toothy grin, he’d gasp like, “I KNEW IT! YOU HAVE THE BEST SMILE IN THE WORLD!” Dramatic? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.

Mingyu: Kim Mingyu, the man he is, would be the type to go above and beyond to make you feel good about your smile. He’d start by complimenting you constantly and taking candid photos where you look natural and happy. Then, he’d show them to you like, “Look at this—your smile could cure my bad days.” He’d probably even bring it up to the members like, “Isn’t her smile the best thing ever?” And when you roll your eyes at him, he’d just grin and say, “See? Even your eyeroll smile is perfect.” AHHGHTCGTCGCFFCCT

Minghao: Hao would be supportive and no-nonsense. He’d listen to your insecurities, acknowledge your feelings, and then remind you that nobody’s perfect. “Imperfections make us human,” he’d say, and it would somehow hit deeper than you expected. He’d probably encourage you to focus on how your smile feels rather than how it looks, and over time, his grounded perspective would help you see your smile in a whole new light. With him (with others too), you’d start to appreciate the beauty in being uniquely you.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan would be the loudest advocate for your smile. “Are you kidding me!” He’d probably start hyping you up every time you smiled, to the point where it becomes impossible not to feel confident about it. And if anyone dared to say something negative about your teeth? Oh, he’d drag them to filth, no hesitation I'm telling you. With Seungkwan in your corner, you’d never have to doubt your smile again.

Vernon: He would be ridiculously sweet. He’d casually drop comments like, “Your smile’s cool,” and then act like it’s no big deal—when really, he’s melting inside every time he sees it. He’d never pressure you to show your teeth but would secretly be over the moon whenever you did. And the way he’d look at you in those moments? Pure adoration. Honestly, he’d make you feel like the coolest person in the world, open bite or not.

Dino: Chan would be all about boosting your confidence. He’d give you a pep talk about how unique smiles are the best smiles and how yours is his favorite thing about you. He’d hype you up so much that you’d almost feel like a celebrity. And when you finally smiled without holding back, he’d act like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen. “That’s it! That’s the smile that could rules my heart!” That’s just how much he cares.

[liekjevenderheurn]

We don't shift to another reality after entering the void (unless intended for reality shifting ofc)

This is my personal belief, I am open for discussion in the comment section and in my dms, but stay respectful pls🥺

Now let me explain my reason for thinking this.

Now unless these void posts are all fake successes, I think going to the void does not necessarily bring you to a new reality since I have been following people on here and after some time, some of them said they reached the void (how can I read this if they are in a different reality?).

Besides this, I think that the void is the ultimate source of everything. Therefore it is also the source between all realities and you can just manifest things for your current one. YOU ARE THE BOSS. You get to decide everything, including in which reality what happens.

(These were my main points incase you do not have time to read the whole thing)

Like in one of my other posts, I have experienced people manifesting for me or even that I would text them. That this worked for them on me honestly blowed my mind, but there was also this account that I followed with this post. Now I saw she asked for this, someone gave her the sigil, the manifestation worked and we were still in the same reality for me to see that it worked.

Some people say when you manifest, you go to another reality in which you already have it. Yet a lot of post I have seen, I saw old post where they did not have it and after they manifested it, they had it. If that reality already had this manifestation, why do I see a post where they stated to not have that manifestation in that same reality. (hope this sense)

I know some people believe we shift every second when we make a choice, but my quantum physics of high school explained it was not really about us humans making different choices but the molecule parts acting randomly (which could create different realities but this is ofc impossible to prove). Besides this, like if I want ice cream I always take the lemon flavor over the chocolate because I like it more, your choices are based on who you are and your past experiences. Choices that you make do not have a 50-50% chance.

Looking at things Ive learned from being in the shifting community, unless you succesfuly permashift, you will go back to what they call your cr (current reality). I believe you go back there because you still have some attachments to it, this is also a reason why I think for the most time you stay in the same reality.

Anyway, it is really difficult to prove anything so take this with a grain of salt, this is just my perspective :P.

PS: this is also a reason why I believe that the void state pact could work and is not limited by shifting

Have a great day❤️

Small update on 23-01-2025:

I made this post after being called thoughtless again for my pact idea. Now I wanted to show people my perspective and why I thought the shifting realities is not the thing that happens when you manifest (actually, I really just wanted to prove that I am not unbelievably stupid and thoughtless hahaha). I have my reasons which I am trying to explain in my posts and it is alright if you still hold on to your belief, but there is no need to attack anyone for having another one.

Now besides the comment section, a few of my friends dm'ed me with some new perspectives which I thought were beautiful:

This was based on research on beliefs in the older days.

There are many spiritualists on youtube who talk about this, everything and everyone being one.

This was based on Neville Goddard and other Neville Goddard succcess stories.

A lot of you have seen also the posts of where the creator does believe in shifting your reality. There are many different opinions on reality which are hard to prove, yet a lot of them are valid. Again, I'm just sharing my perspective, you get to decide what you believe:)

[pansy-picnics]

Americans who are worried about bird flu and/or are struggling to afford eggs the next few months- find someone in your local community who has chickens.

It is winter right now, so most backyard hens won’t be laying, but come spring, they’ll be laying so many eggs a lot of chicken owners don’t even know what to do with them all. They’ll often sell you a whole carton for like, 2-3 dollars. a backyard flock owner might even give them away for free if they’re desperate.

frankly, if you start buying fresh eggs, you probably won’t want to ever go back. farm fresh eggs taste better, last longer (sometimes without even being refrigerated), and have tougher, denser shells. not to mention they’re beautiful considering they come in all different shapes, sizes and colors!

in general though, farmers markets are HUGE. the cororate meat and dairy industries are breeding grounds for disease right now, and grocery prices are skyrocketing. local farmers markets and community owned grocery stores can get you better prices on better food, from things like eggs to produce, meat, and dairy.

i see a lot of people talking about community but i think a lot of people still don’t know where to start….since food is a big one, i want to share some resources. its important to remember that we don’t need these corporations to survive. they need us. even if you don’t make a lot of income, there are ways you can support your community and get better deals than at corporate owned grocery stores.

Most states have a farmers market network/association, or you can find local markets through your state’s department of agriculture website. heres a list of resources by state on the farmers market coalition. some of these links might be broken or outdated, but just looking up the name should bring you to the right page.

here’s also a list of food pantries and grocery co-ops per state. keep in mind these might not encapsulate every resource available, they’re just jumping off points in case you aren’t sure where to start, since i know things are really overwhelming right now. but even just looking up “farmers market/food pantry” and your county or city will come up with plenty of results.

I know that not everyone can afford farmers markets, there are cases where they’re more expensive than regular grocery stores. it 100% depends on the situation. but most areas usually have at least one local food bank or community group where you can get some assistance if you’re struggling. start to get to know your neighbors, too. you know how older folks will say that back in the day, you could go ask the neighbors for a cup of sugar and they���d give it to you? That kind of basic community is exactly what we have to go back to in these next few years. That is what is gonna keep us alive.

[winchesterwild78]

Happy Birthday, Dean Winchester

Master List

Characters: Dean x Reader (in a relationship)

Warnings: None, just sweet and fluffy

A/N: In honor of Dean’s 46th Birthday I had to write a quick story. I wrote this fast and did not edit it well. Please overlook any errors. 

I don’t own the rights to the characters, and this does not follow the Supernatural timeline. 

Minors DNI 18+

The diner buzzed with the usual Friday night crowd. Laughter, the clatter of forks, and the low hum of conversation filled the air. But for you, the world outside the window blurred. Dean's birthday was tomorrow, and you were stumped.

He deserved something special. Forget the usual – a bottle of whiskey, a hunting knife, a case of his favorite beer. You wanted to give him something that truly captured the essence of Dean Winchester.

He loved apple pie, the warm, cinnamon-scented kind that reminded him of home. He adored flannel, the rough-hewn comfort against his skin. And then there was the Impala, his beloved 1967 Chevy, a symbol of freedom and a piece of his soul.

But what could you possibly do with all of that?

Suddenly, an idea sparked. A mischievous glint entered your eyes. You'd create a "Dean Winchester Day."

The next morning, you were up before dawn. You baked an apple pie, the kitchen filling with the sweet aroma of cinnamon and sugar. You laid out a worn flannel shirt, the one he always wore after a long hunt. And then came the Impala.

You knew where he kept the spare key. You'd arranged a surprise "Impala road trip."

The day unfolded like a perfect movie scene. You led him to the diner, where a table was set with his favorite pie, a steaming mug of coffee, and a single red rose.

"Happy birthday, Dean," you said, a smile gracing your lips.

He looked stunned, then a slow grin spread across his face. "You shouldn't have," he mumbled, eyes twinkling and he placed a soft kiss on your lips. 

After a leisurely breakfast, you blindfolded him and led him to the Impala. The engine roared to life, a familiar rumble that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Where are we going?" he asked, his voice a mixture of anticipation and amusement.

"It's a secret," you replied, your voice teasing.

You drove for hours, the windows down, the wind whipping through their hair. You stopped at a scenic overlook, the vast expanse of the sky stretching before the two of you. You shared a picnic lunch under the shade of a giant oak tree.

You drove a little further and Dean could hear the sounds of birds and of waves crashing against the sand.

“Y/N, are we where I think we are?” A smile formed on your lips. You took his hand and led him out of the car. Removing his blindfold he saw the ocean and the sand. 

“Wow, this is beautiful. I can’t believe I’m at the beach. Baby this is perfect.” He pulled you close and kissed your lips.

“I have everything we need for a day at the beach. Your trunks, my bathing suit, towels, sunscreen, and of course snacks.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. You both changed and spent the day laughing and having fun. 

You loved seeing this side of Dean. The joyful, stress free, loving Dean.

As the sun began to set, you drove back, the silence comfortable and filled with unspoken words.

Back at the motel, you settled in for the night, the flannel shirt draped over his shoulders. He held you close, his breath warm against your ear.

"This was the best birthday ever," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion.

You knew it wasn't traditional, but it was perfect. It was a day filled with the things he loved most, a day that celebrated not just his birthday, but the unique and unconventional bond you shared.

“I love you, Y/N.” “I love you too. Happy Birthday, Dean Winchester.” 

Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.  

Tags: 

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573 

@k-slla @jackles010378 

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 

@roseblue373 @cheynovak 

@jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa 

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75 

@superrey @kamisobsessed

@obliviousap @ninii-winchester

@mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @whimsyfinny

@bobbdylan @star-yawnznn

@reignsboy19 @monkey-d-hoshizora98

@depressionbarbie2023 @livingdeadblondequeen

@mandee7 @barnes70stark

@spnaquakindgdom @djs8891

@pughsexual @spnaquakindgdom

@lunaleah @amberlthomas 

[the-astronome]

Saw a post here about names of pathologic characters, and decided to share some thoughts regarding our beloathed Bachelor, because I realised something and have to share it with you.

So, what do we know? Well, his name is certainly Daniil and his surname is Dankovsky. “What about his patronymic?” you might ask. Here it’s a bit more complicated, but knowing that he once signed a letter with D.D.D. we can safely assume his patronymic starts with a D, and as a matter of fact, I’m quite sure that it’s actually Daniilovich (i.e. his father’s name was also Daniil), though my arguments in favour of this are rather funny

1)Name:

Daniil, what does this name mean? To begin with, the name comes from Hebrew (“Dānīyyēʾl” in romanised version) and literally means “God is my judge”. What is more interesting, in my opinion, is that this name is partially formed by another Jewish name, “Dan”. “Dan” literally means “judge” and its most known bearer is Dan, son of Jacob (also known as Israel, the angel-wrestling guy), who was (according to the Bible) the founder of the Tribe of Dan. Moreover, the symbol of this tribe is a serpent, because of Dan’s sly, scheming, and calculating character.

Apart from that, Bachelor’s a doctor, and one of the most famous symbols of medicine (at least in Russia) is a Bowl of Hygieia, see a simple example below

This also could be an intended symbolism, which probably started with IPL thinking how they would name their genius-doctor-character, and then spiralling down into all these snake-related topics, eventually choosing Daniil. It might have been just a funny coincidence. Someone can probably text them on Twitter and ask.

2)Surname:

Here it’s a bit tricky, and please do feel free to correct me, because the info I’ll give here might be false. Anyway. When I first started P1, I was a bit puzzled by Bachelor’s surname. You see, even though it is defo a Slavic surname (e.g. -sky ending), it doesn’t make much sense to a Russian speaking person, since what the hell is “Dankov”? A surname in a surname, now ending with “-ov”? Well, here is a potential explanation:

Western Slavs have a form of “Daniel”, namely “Danko”. As far as I understand, it can be a surname (and it is, in various forms, at least in Slovakia and Ukraine). This makes the surname “Dankovsky” mean something like “of the Danko” “son of Danko” “belonging to Danko” etc. All this suggests that, if we translate his surname to Russian in the literal manner, it would change to “Daniilov”. So you see where I’m going, right..?

3)Patronymic:

So. What do we have. “Daniil” as a name, and a surname which apparently (through numerous layers of linguistic irony) is also formed from the name “Daniil”. And we know that his patronymic starts with D. Do I dare suggest that his patronymic follows this silly pattern as well, so it would be “Daniilovich”?

This leaves us with a beautiful name of Daniil Daniilovich Daniilov, which sounds rather humorous and comical to russian-speaking folks (reminds us of the legendary Ivan Ivanovich Ivanov). As a close friend of mine suggested, that could have been a placeholder of sorts during the early development of the game and/or character, when IPL only came up with a name, but not with everything else. Then they decided not to over-invent things, and just obscure the surname via translating and adapting it to Western Slavic languages (Polish and apparently Slovak, I would guess), and basically never mentioning his patronymic. Ingenious if you ask me

4)Takeaways:

Not much, unless you see a sentence where I’m talking out of my ass, please I beg you speak up if messed up the Western Slavic part, I’m not native to those languages, so could’ve missed something there.

More importantly! For me, all these layers behind DDD name form a very concrete foundation for my headcanon that Bachelor is of Polish-Jewish origin. In general, his surname suggests lots of interesting stuff, so explore the linguistic opportunities my fellow patho people

[sassypleia]

Friendships, I hate to have to go back to elementary school with you all but…. A friend is defined as “a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations” (Oxford Languages).

To me there are multiple levels of friendship, including a best friend, friend and lover. They can be one and the same, which to me would be a romantic partner. Or they could be just platonic.

In my “real” world I document what I see and hear and write down my observations of situations. I have gotten really good at observation and I think that is what has bugged me about all the speculation from the other Ships. I just don’t get it and I don’t see it. I firmly believe that Nic and Luke are together and it’s just behind the scenes. AKA Private (iykyk).

Recently we saw changes in their social media activity (ya all know what I mean so I’m not going to hash it out on here) and we have not seen Nic and Luke together out and about and have only received one Polin picture since the World Tour. I’m going to be really honest with you, that makes me nervous, sad, happy and just anxious. The fact that they are not posting like usual on their grids but taking the ‘story’ route is unusual and speaks volumes to me.

I know they have a friendship like no other because they told us. But it was the fact that when asked, they avoided answering the question - “What are you?” - you know what interview I’m talking about (it’s not like we have not seen their interviews a million times).

I’m a firm believer that when you over share, and avoid it’s because you are evading the real answer. And it might be the fact that at the time they had not even realized it themselves. I mean, we saw both Nic and Lukes’s idea of love had changed (love/lust at first sight vs slow burn).

I have my own theories, but I’m not sharing them aloud, I do draw the line somewhere. I will ship them because I saw what I saw , but I will keep my speculation to group chats.

Their friendship is beautiful and like no other I have seen with either adjacent. That to me tells another story with a little thing called love.

Xx 🩵

[our-arospec-experience]

Do you have any advice on how to tell the difference between romantic and strong platonic feelings as an arospec person?

I'm (I think) demi-aroace, and I don't really ever feel romantically attracted to anyone. I have a close friend (who is also aroacespec) who I think I have romantic feelings for. I don't think (or at least don't really remember) having experienced romantic feelings, so I'm finding it hard to understand how I feel.

I'm really really sorry if this is the wrong place to come, but I'm not really sure where else to ask. I've not come out to anyone as demiaroace, and the only other aroacespec person I know is the person I've mentioned above. And actually they're probably one of the only people I'd be comfortable telling.

Thanks so much if you can help, I hope this is ok to ask.

the best resource for differentiating attractions I've found so far is this one:

However, you can define your attraction however you want, or even just leave it without a label. It's okay to be confused, take your time and figure things out when you are ready.

Good luck :)

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What kind of attraction am I feeling?

It can be difficult to figure out exactly what we are feeling toward someone, especially since we can be feeling multiple types of attraction at the same time. To help you out, here are some things you might think about someone when feeling certain types of attraction.

Romantic attraction:

"I feel a physical magnetism to this person"

"I think about them all the time"

"I can't help but imagine a future with them"

"I fantasize about kissing them, marrying them, moving in with them, etc"

"I desire for them to be romantically involved with me"

"The feeling I have for them is distinctly different from how I feel about friends or family"

"I have physical reactions to them, like butterflies when I'm near them or an ache when they're away"

Sexual attraction

"I feel a physical magnetism to this person"

"I can't help but fantasize about being sexually close with them or imagining them naked"

"being near them arouses me a bit"

"I feel my loins react to their presence and I am extremely aware of how close they are to me"

"It's like everyone is in grayscale but this specific person is in full colour"

Platonic Attraction:

"I feel an emotional magnetism toward this person"

"I feel like we are on the same wavelength and I can easily understand them"

"I feel like we are vibing and it's easy to talk and share with them."

"I feel drawn to their energy"

"I am very comfortable hanging out with them and I desire to get to know them and have them get to know me"

"I can easily spend time together without a lot of effort or emotional drain"

Aesthetic Attraction:

"this person has a really cool style or a beautiful face/body

"I appreciate their beauty the same way I appreciate a beautiful sunset"

"I want to be around them in the same way I want to be around beautiful art"

"I feel a desire to stare at them or maybe even draw them"

"I enjoy how our styles compliment each other"

Sensual attraction:

"This person makes me feel like I do when I see a big floofy dog - I feel a strong desire to snuggle them or hug them or just be near them in a non-sexual way"

"I may fantasize about cuddling them or being close to them"

"I may feel inclined to physically interact with them more than other people."

end id.

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Twenty Eight

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

There is slight smut in this chapter(oral with female receiving and slight pinv)

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97 @bookofriverr

The rays of the sun broke through the small opening of the curtains, blanketing warmness over Bucky and I as we laid in bed. I had been awake for a while now, simply staring at him, heart swelling in adoration and love. We’d been sharing a bed the last couple of nights, both needing the sense of security from one another. All we would do was lay in each other's arms, that’s it. Even though we were getting close again, I didn’t want to jump right back into everything until I felt I was ready to. 

Bucky’s hair was falling into his eyes so I gently brushed it away, the urge to kiss his plump lips was unbearable. I leaned on my elbow to stare down at him, a soft snore sounding from his mouth. 

As if he felt me staring, Bucky’s eyes slowly opened with a very large smile appearing on his face when we noticed me staring. 

He snuggled closer to his pillow. “Hm, good morning, doll.” 

“Morning,” I smiled back. 

His vibranium arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer into him. I rested my head against his chest and hooked my leg around his waist, locking him into place. This is what our mornings had been spent the last couple of days before Bucky locked himself in his office at home for the day, trying to find more leads on Clint or Natasha. 

Absolutely nothing. It was as if they dusted away, their lives almost forgotten. 

“Are you busy tonight?” Bucky asked while rubbing my back. 

I couldn't help but snicker at his question. He knew that with the hit on me, I refused to leave the house alone. To be honest, I rarely left his house this past week, not wanting to risk anything. There was no way Bucky would let me leave by myself anyway.

“I think my schedule is open,” I joked with a smile while looking up at him. “Why?” 

“Would you like to go out to dinner with me?” 

My breath caught in my throat. “Like a date?” 

Bucky could feel the way my body tensed in his embrace so he gave my hip a soft squeeze. “Whatever you want to call it; a date or two friends getting dinner.” 

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, debating the offer around in my mind for a few minutes. 

“How about we start it off as friends and see where it goes?” I suggested. 

He smiled, brushing his lips across the top of my head. “As long as you're comfortable, Y/N.” 

My laughter bounced off the small confines of Bucky’s car as he drove us back home, our dinner replaying in my mind over and over. It had been so long since I had someone do everything Bucky did tonight and my heart was swimming. 

It started with him renting a small section of the restaurant for us, him pulling out my chair for me, and the table had a very large bouquet of black roses; my favorite. He already had a set menu for tonight, knowing what I liked, and when we talked he let me talk endlessly as I told him about me; things he didn't know. Not once did he interrupt, only kept his bright eyes on me the entire time. 

Bucky then divulged into his own life growing up and I learned so many things about him that surprised me. Our hands were linked on his lap under the table the entire time, his vibranium thumb pressing light circles on my skin. 

He pulled the car to a stop at a red light then looked over at me. “Have I told you how breathtaking you look tonight?” 

I smiled, my hand resting behind his neck, fingers playing with the end of his hair. 

“Once or twice.”

The car started to move again but I could tell that Bucky was still upset with what happened tonight so I placed my other hand on his knee. 

“You know you could have asked Steve or Sam to hang around. That way you wouldn't be so on edge at some points,”I said. 

“I didn’t like the way the waiter kept staring at you. I couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t try something,” Bucky said while gripping the wheel a bit too hard. “I can take care of you, Y/N.” 

I bit back a laugh. “It could be the fact that the dress I chose was a bit too short.” 

His eyes were laced with darkness as they quickly grazed over my form, slowly licking his lips. I felt my body ignite under his gaze so I shifted in my seat, the air shifted around us and I suddenly wanted to feel him all over me again.  

We arrived back at his house before I knew it and neither of us made an effort to leave the car, only staring deeply at each other. Our breathing synced as Bucky lifted my chin up towards him. 

“So was this a date?” Bucky’s voice was gentle, quiet. 

I nodded without hesitation. “This was the best date I had been on in a very long time. Thank you, Bucky.” 

“Anything for you, doll,” he breathed over my lips. 

The Bucky that I had been around the last few days was different from the one from months ago. He was more attentive towards me, sweet, and willing to take everything slow. All the anger I felt for him had vanished long ago, my love for him outweighing all the bad. 

I was done taking it slow. 

“Bucky?” My voice husked. 

His shoulders shivered. “Yea?” 

My tongue rolled over my bottom lip, it got caught between my teeth. 

“Did you want-.” 

I was cut off by his phone ringing but Bucky ignored it. “Not important.” 

“Are you sure?” I asked. 

“Doll,” he leaned closer to me. “You’re the only thing that matters to me right now.” 

Without a second thought, I crashed my lips to his and he wasted no time either by lifting me into his lap, the steering wheel digging into my back. I scratched and pulled at his hair, doing whatever I could to deepen the kiss. His tongue tangled with mine and I moaned into his mouth when his vibranium hand squeezed my ass to bring our hips closer together. 

I leaned my head back when Bucky began biting and sucking at the sweet spot of my neck, our movements becoming familiar with each other all over again. He remembered exactly where to touch or kiss that would set me off, in the most euphoric way. 

My name fell from Bucky’s lip when I started to rut my hips into his, trying to scratch that itch I felt almost everyday since we came back into each other's lives. 

“Should we take this upstairs?” I asked breathlessly from our kiss. 

Bucky didn't answer, only kicked open the car door and carried me inside the house. We were so engrossed with each other that the text message from Baron Zemo that interrupted us before went unread. 

“Oh, Bucky,” I moaned, nails scratching and pulling at his hair. 

His moans were swallowed by the lips between my legs, his tongue pressing circles on my sweetest spot. I hooked both of my legs around his neck, almost smothering him. Bucky didn’t complain once, only kept his actions up, moving even faster. 

I lifted my hips up from the bed as my orgasm washed over me without warning and cried out his name over and over again in praise. 

Bucky didn’t bother waiting for the white haze to pass from my eyes before he hooked my leg over his hip and buried his dick between my folds. I clenched around him and he let out the most guttural moan which made my eyes flutter shut. 

“I missed this so-,” he slid his dick out but left the tip in.“-fucking much.” 

With a hard snap of his hips, he began to move them erratically, his pace unforgiving and unruly. It was what exactly I needed, my nails grasping at anything I could reach. The sheets of the bed, the skin of his back. Anything. 

“Bucky,” I breathed. 

He buried his face in my neck. “I miss the way you say my name. The way you touch.” 

I whined at the sudden emptiness as Bucky dragged his soaked cock from me to roll me onto my knees. My ass was raised up towards him, ready for whatever he was about to do. 

A hard smack of skin against skin bounced off the walls in tangent my screams when Bucky smacked my ass. 

He leaned behind me, his warm breath cascading over my ear. “I miss the way you fuck. The way you taste.” 

I pressed back into dick, the precum and my own sweet arousal dragging all over the back of my thigh. 

“Please,” I begged. “I need you, Bucky. I need to feel you again.” 

“Doll, you never have to beg me for it. Never again.” 

We shared a moan as he slipped between my folds again. 

Snores filled the room as our sweaty bodies were tangled together, not bothering to cover ourselves with any covers. We had come down from our high a while ago, both of us collapsing to the bed short of breath. Bucky had me locked against his chest, vibranium arm over my stomach. 

Tonight had felt like we never missed a beat, everything between us becoming second nature. The only difference was that Bucky didn’t have to leave, we could stay as long as we wanted together. There wasn’t the lingering regret or shame that we would feel after a night spent together. We didn’t get the chance to talk about us, exhaustion taking over us almost immediately. But there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that things would be different between us. 

For the better. 

That was until the sudden thirst woke me and I let out a small yawn while doing my best to untangle myself from him. 

Bucky whined while gripping me tighter.  “Where are you going?” 

“I’m thirsty,” I giggled. 

He left a kiss on my bare shoulder. “Hurry back. I’ll miss you.” 

I laughed at the tone of his voice and gave him a quick kiss before slipping on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts. 

Not bothering to turn on any lights in the kitchen, I rummaged through the fridge in search of something to drink. That was until I felt a strong arm around my throat, yanking me away and tossing me onto the hard, cold ground. My head smacked against the floor as I let out a strangled scream, feeling hands around my throat now. Fear filled my eyes as I looked up and saw a vicious smile looking down at me. 

“Cl-clint?” I choked out. 

“Miss me?” 

Before I could fight against him, he knocked me unconscious with a swift punch to the side of my head. 

[dear-lucrow]

WIP word train!

I was tagged by the lovely @emryses and my word is CROWN.

C - Charles looked like he wanted to protest. The face of a boy unwilling to realize his cute little puppy was actually a rabid wolf. But Edwin nodded. Crystal and Edwin did not have a lot in common (other than the thing about flowers and graves). But they did share realistic opinions about the damage Edwin Payne could cause.

R - "Remember when the fucker broke our arm?" Charles pressed his lips together. Suddenly there was the distinct, sickening snap of his own bone in his ear. Rowland looked at him like he knew. "Not gonna lie... was satisfying to break his."

O - One, he was incredibly beautiful. Slight and sleek like a whip, with sharp features, a strong brow and dark hair curling just slightly over his forehead. Two, he wore a pistol at his hip. Which, granted, should have been Charles' first priority.

W - "We played together as children", Edwin corrected. Not outright cold but flat enough to stun. "Several years have passed since then. Years you have spent indulging in all the pleasures London has to offer to a young noble. Years I have spent scrubbing blood off the Hellspawn's deck. You do not know me and I do not know you. So, if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to, my lord."

N - Now, Charles was about 99,9% sure that Gertie - while being perfectly able to see ghosts - was utterly oblivious to the actual nature of the crowd they were serving. For the past decades they had often told him he reminded them of some other young man that used to come by, the similarity was uncanny! They also had told him they used to be big into the LSD-riddled club kid scene of the 80', which probably was explanation enough.

This was so much fun! So I'm no-pressure-tagging @majorlb @tragedy-machine and @hobbitsdoitbetter

Your word will be... GLOVE!

[pseudowho]

Is living domestic life what you imagined it to be as a child/teen? I never thought I'd live this long and I dont know for how long I'll live anyway, but the thought of joy being found in the mundane keeps me going. Is it worth it?

By "domestic life", am I first to assume that you mean a 'nuclear family' in the classic sense?

Based on context, I'm going to assume so.

I also don't know why you feel, strictly, that you should have died and may yet die soon. I cannot make any assumptions on your health, physical or mental, so this also means all I can give you is my own experience. I don't mean to advise one not asking for advice, anyway; all you have asked for is insight.

So I came from the sort of family where, for the most part, being 'a mother' was every woman's main identity. It was just what the women were. For most of my life, I never assumed I would be anything but a mother. It's funny, because in hindsight, none of the rest of my life and career aspirations strictly matched with being 'a mother' in the traditional sense, so I clearly had a long term delusion, there.

If I had known how distinctly in possession of myself I was, I might have known how hard it would be to give myself up, for babies.

Either way...for context: I fell very hard in love, and we grew up together (from ages 14/15) still in love, and we are now 31 and 32. I am a midwife, he is an English Professor/Lecturer and Teacher. We married aged 22/23. We have three sons, aged 7, 4 and 1.

Good things about domestic life:

Loneliness isn't a thing, here.

Lots and lots of affection, both physical and emotional.

The load of life is shared (note: I have a husband who is very, very outside of the norm, with no toxic masculinity and an approach to equality/equitability in work, childcare and housework).

When you are your own family unit, you're pressured less by family to get involved in their shit. Because you've got your own shit.

Living with the love of your life is amazing.

Having babies who are half you, and half the love of your life, is an incredibly beautiful thing.

Raising babies, although supremely difficult, is a joy.

Taking turns being at home and at work is helpful.

You learn to be much more compromising, patient and forgiving.

Bad things about domestic life:

You don't realise how much personal identity, independence or privacy you will lose, being a parent.

Exhaustion.

Parenting is hard. Really hard. Really, really hard.

Finding time for each other, as a couple, is also hard. Any time you do find, at least one of you is likely exhausted.

Good god, so much cooking.

Good god, so much laundry.

Good god, I swear I just vacuumed yesterday.

Good god, groceries are expensive.

Barely keeping your head above water with life admin and finances and childrearing and housework and work and life and ever having any time alone, is absolutely real.

Very very little downtime.

If you are someone who finds joy in the mundane, then yes, you may find a lot of joy in domesticity. So much of it really is mundane; being at home with kids, is often simultaneously boring and stressful. Very odd. Perhaps I'll miss it when they're older.

My personal favourite moment, is the happy sigh at the end of every day, when the kids are in bed, and the house is largely clean, where you fall into each other's arms, and he looks at you like you built the world for him, and just says:

"Hello. You are beautiful."

And I bury my face in his chest, and breathe in the smell of him, and the stale cologne, and the sweat, and life, and say:

"God, I missed you. More than you know."

And it's basically the same, every day.

In a kind of beautiful way.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx