#mar wrote a thing

[ratblazer]

Do you think John uses an emotional support trench coat because he never had a blankie as a baby?

Aw,, now I'm sure he has plenty of issues from childhood neglect, but I'm not sure the coat is one of them. I'm more of the mind it's just something his had for so long, when he's lost everything he still has that coat on his back (I'm pretty sure in the comics it's technically a few different coats but let me have this) that he's just grown very attached to it. The John I write also keeps a looot of junk in the pockets of that heavy coat of his so I imagine kind of gives it that weighted blanket effect too

[wolvesbaned]

sad butch werewolf i love you.

[robinsnest2111]

27. Demon summoning w motley. ill let you decide if one of them is the demon or nah

you're in luck, bestie! this prompt inspired me to draw AND write 🔥

---

Starting a band wasn't easy, especially if you were missing a decent guitarist. Sure, a bunch of people had shown up for auditions, but none of them were the right fit. After weeks of no success, Nikki turned up at the apartment with a strange book sporting a big red pentagram on the cover. He'd found it while perusing a little curio and occultism shop, off one of the main streets, a little hidden away. Something drew him to it and who was he to resist that fateful pull.

Tommy and Vince were sceptical. What use would that old tome be? Magic was not a real thing and now they were short on money for groceries and other necessities just because Nikki decided he needed to have it and that it would help them.

Nikki carefully studied the book the following days, until he landed on a page detailing the steps to summon various kinds of demons and infernal creatues for all sorts of purposes.

Eventually, he was able to convince Tommy and Vince to help him set everything up to try and summon the perfect guitarist for their band. As ridiculous as it sounded, they decided to just go for it. They gathered candles, chalk, matches, sacrificial items relating to the kind of demon the three of them wanted to summon and went to work.

As soon as Nikki had finished reading the spell, the summoning circle they had drawn out on their living room floor began to glow red. Tommy stepped closer to Nikki's right while Vince grabbed hold of Nikki's left shoulder and upper arm, almost hiding behind the bassist.

A blinding flash of light, a boom that must've rattled the entire apartment building, and suddenly, Nikki, Tommy, and Vince found themselves staring at a very real and very scary looking demon, a guitar grasped tightly in its hands. It was close in height and stature to Vince but no less intimidating. The demon fixed the three men with an intense stare, as if gazing right into their very souls. Who would've thought that summoning creatures from the depths of hell as an unorthodox band recruitment strategy actually worked?

---

Put That Guy in a SituationTM Ask Game/Prompt!

[marleysfinest]

just realised I can plagiarise myself. there’s a whole body of work I have outside of tumblr (under my gov name) that I’m like “ah man I wish I could transfer that across to some sort of fic oh well its a shame that I can’t” and it’s like…… I can. that’s my own work I’m stealing. that’s my property I’d be duplicating. I can do what I want with it. anyway don’t plagiarise unless it’s urself

[dead-generations]

Another misconception, which I should roll into a wider "why the moon is harder than mars" essay, is that low gravity makes space travel easier. Low gravity actually makes landing on a body, and traveling to it, more energy intensive and more challenging - especially because lower gravity typically means less dense atmosphere or no atmosphere. Let me explain

High gravity is obviously a challenge for space travel, especially launching from a body with high gravity. I dont think this needs explaining - heavy thing hard go up, more gravity mean more heavy. but theres a bit of a bell curve here. Too low (moon) and it becomes quite challenging. Too high (a 'super earth') and it again becomes quite challenging.

This isn't a nice even curve though, the "ceiling" is relatively low as far as gravity for stellar bodies goes, and the lowest gravity possible is merely challenging while gravity above earth's rapidly becomes "impossible".

Specifically, to get to a stellar body you need to "intercept" it, which basically means getting to it and spending enough energy to be sharing an orbit with it/orbiting it. A low gravity stellar body has a weaker and smaller gravity well, which means you cannot simply rely on being 'captured' by the body when you arrive. You will need to expend energy to get there, and then you will need to expend almost as much energy when you arrive just to be captured by it!

Low gravity generally means its harder to land or orbit, and high gravity means its harder to launch. And high enough gravity also makes landing challenging as well, as the continual force upon the vehicle is high enough that small errors in the final landing sequence can become rapidly catastrophic. A little caveat here is that sufficiently low gravities enable SSTO vehicles, though they may not enter into the realm of "better than a two stage vehicle".

So there's a sweet spot here, clearly, but funnily enough the earth isn't in it. Our gravity is frustratingly high for takeoff and just a bit high for landing. In fact if it was just a bit higher, maybe 10%, a lot of things would become impossible, like reusable rockets. Mars is much closer to that sweet spot!

But the presence and density of atmosphere is another factor for space travel similar to gravity. It mainly effects landing/orbiting, similar to gravity. Atmosphere too dense/high, and lower orbits become problematic as they "drag" on the atmosphere. Worse, when landing/deorbiting, one cannot avoid aerobraking, and more challenging one cannot help but generate a lot of heat via atmospheric friction. Heat which requires fragile/expensive/high-mass shielding which is unproductive mass for 90% of the use of your vehicle. Heat which can blind instruments and communications equipment. And heat which is of course exceptionally good at destroying spacecraft and killing astronauts.

But too low is a more common problem which also makes landing quite challenging. You have less or, worse, (and commonly) no atmosphere on which to aerobrake. which means you are screaming towards the surface at an accelerating rate from whatever energy you spent getting to that stellar body. which means you need to expend energy, specifically fuel, to decelerate, or go splat. which means more propellant. You also cannot use control surfaces for navigation/control, you have to expend propellant for even minor adjustments, which means you need still more more propellant. which is a big no-no for the rocket equation - you will have less useful mass as a portion of your overall mass. which basically means less cool stuff and more boring stuff.

It seems youd have another sweet spot situation, and that perhaps earth has just the right amount of atmosphere. Crucially, however, atmospheric density greatly modifies the effects of high or low gravity, especially low gravity.

If you have no atmosphere or a very low density atmosphere on a very low gravity stellar body, you are looking at huge energy expenditures. You need to travel towards the body and then spend almost exactly as much energy when you arrive just to land on it. Probably in practice even more than you spent getting there because of maneuvering. Which means less useful mass and even more opportunities for errors to become quite severe, and a very real possibility of running out of propellant as you deorbit, meaning you will helplessly and lazily drift down uncontrolled into a splat which, even under lunar gravity, is likely to be sufficiently destructive. Or it just lands sideways which prevents functional operation (see: like three separate moon landing failures in the last couple years)

Energy expenditures in spaceflight are basically the biggest determinator for how difficult a mission is. It constrains your design space, it constrains how long a mission takes, and it constrains how much useful stuff you bring along (people, instrumentation, rovers, etc). Actually, it would be more accurate to say that energy expenditure is difficulty.

Additionally, and without going into too much detail on it, low density or no atmosphere means you also have to worry about kicking up particulates which will stay in the "air" for a very long time, and which are likely to be sharp or abrasive because of a lack of smoothing erosion by wind. This is a bigger issue than you might think.

Conversely, high density atmospheres, for all their faults, mean you can have reentry vehicles which require no propulsion, no active energy expenditure and thus no fuel, to safely deorbit and land. This is exactly what happens all the time. it is how capsules work, let the atmosphere bleed away your energy and use it for any maneuvering and then use parachutes for final descent, and a large body of water to ensure a soft landing. (this is why we call it spashdown). The space shuttle did something similar, except that it accomplished its final approach via controlled glide.

Here's the real trick though: if you have a sufficiently dense atmosphere on a lower gravity stellar body, you actually ameliorate almost all the downsides from the low gravity. You can use aerocapture instead of gravity capture to intercept a body, you can use control surfaces to manuever against the atmosphere, you can de orbit using aerobraking, and you can use aerobraking to perform most of the the work of landing. If the atmospheric density is low enough but not too low, you can even seriously reduce your need for heat shielding (and thus increase your useful mass) by simply making many many orbits while gently aerobraking, slowly bleeding away energy without generating significant heat via friction because the atmosphere just isn't very dense.

Unfortunately these circumstances will necessitate some propulsive landing on final descent. Parachutes are used on earth for that final bit of deceleration, but on a stellar body with lower atmospheric density, like mars, they simply are not fit for purpose. You have to put a lot of engineering into getting them to be just barely kinda good enough and still quite risky. It is better to just do propulsive landing in that sense, and the fuel expenditure will not be too great. You would need an atmosphere comparably dense to earths for a spaceplane like the shuttle to be a viable alternative method of landing.

There is however a problem with propulsive landing, which is that the payload of your lander is going to be significantly high above the surface. the engines and fuel tanks all need to be down the bottom and it has to land butt first, unlike a spaceplane. This is a design challenge, especially for deploying autonomous surface rovers.

You might well have guessed what I am getting at: in many ways mars is optimized for spaceflight. The moon presents significant challenges inherent to it, and the earth is at the upper end of comfortable/tolerable for spaceflight. If we had a much denser atmosphere or might higher gravity or both, spaceflight would be prohibitively challenging. Mars might even make SSTOs practical, though I am skeptical of that. The other thing I am getting at is that going to the moon is extremely challenging, and the thing that really makes it easier in any way over going to mars is that it is closer. Which matters of course, but it is not an inherent difficulty.

The last, petty point I am trying to make is that the space shuttle couldn't go to mars and it definitely super duper could not possibly be used to go to the moon.

[itsmarsss]

checked my list of stuff I need to finish writing and it has ‘moxxie getting pegged’ on it 🙏🙏🙏

[cutthroatcarnival]

Writing Ooooh

Various shouts and exclamations rose as Sky hit the ground after being launched off the Talus with an audible thud. Something definitely had been broken, or he had been knocked unconscious, as the skyward knight did not move, even as the Talus righted itself.

Time took off through the battlefield in a frightening display of speed- that armor of his was not light- his Biggoron sword left behind. His mind was focused on the form on the ground, the form of one of his boys. In a swift movement Time dropped to his knees, skidding the rest of the way to Sky’s side, armor clanging and joints protesting as he went.

Gathering the young hero in his arms, he realized too late that the Talus had turned to them, with its fist raised, ready to flatten the two heroes. Someone shouted, fear clear in their voice, “Get out of there!”

The obvious had been stated, but leaving Sky was not an option. There wasn’t time. He couldn’t get them both out. He’d failed. Clutching the Chosen Hero, Time shut his eye, curling around Sky’s form. A final wish to protect.

Light flared in front of his eyelid, the chiming of a spell he had not heard in decades sung in his ears. The awaited impact did not meet their bodies, instead ricocheting off the crystalline barrier formed around the two.

A murmur and movement from his arms shook him out of his frozen state of shock, his eyes snapping open to meet Sky’s, who squinted against the harsh blue light. “…Time? ‘Ow?”

Time attempted to convince himself that this was Hyrule’s shield spell, or even one of the Champion Abilities Wild had talked about… but he knew. Hyrule’s shield was never this color, and the abilities the wild hero gained had long since faded. This spell… he had long forgotten how to summon it. How had it formed?

A gentle tap against his face brought Time out of his thoughts, eyes once again on Sky’s face, who had a slight frown tugging at his lips and a small furrow in his brown. Ah, Sky had asked him a question. “…Nayru’s Love. It is- was, a spell of mine.”

Sky hummed and his hand slipped, eyes slipping shut with a soft groan. The clanging of greaves made him twitch, Warriors had dropped to his side, allowing him to realize that the blue crystalline shield had dissipated. With hands he would later deny were trembling, he shifted Sky into the captain’s lap, where he and Hyrule assessed the knight’s injuries.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, old man.” Legend’s voice came from his back, making him stagger upwards and turn around, the vet grabbing his arm to steady the older hero.

Debating his options, Time sighed. “I should not have been able to use that spell. It’s been too long.” One of Legend’s eyebrows raised, and he fixed the armored man with a look as he scoffed.

“Magic is a part of us. It’s ingrained in our very beings, it responds to not only words, but emotions. Something in you called out, and your magic responded.” The veteran spoke like he was stating a well-known fact, which it might’ve been. Whatever the verdict was with Nayru’s Love, Time was relieved that he had saved not only Sky, but himself.

Though, he realizes now, as he joins his fellow heroes in walking away from the carnage, Biggoron sword back in its place and Sky cradled by Twilight, Malon will learn about this instance. In comparison, the Talus was much less of a scare than the earful his wife would give him… but Time wouldn’t have it any other way. His boys were safe.

Inspired by a comment on this post: https://www.tumblr.com/karaloza/734993087285411840/ive-noticed-something

[innytoes]

3+ sentences for Willex + astronauts au please and thank you <3

(I know you said astronauts but my brain immediately went: The Martian AU)

Alex wasn't quite sure which would be worse: being stranded on Mars alone, or being stranded on Mars with your crush. Since he was currently living the second option, and it was torture.

Of course, it was much better than being alone. Probably. He would have probably freaked out and died if he was alone. But Willie had patched the leak in his suit with duct tape, and dragged him back to the Hub, and nursed him back to health.

They'd worked together to figure out how to survive on Mars. Alex had rigged up the solar panels so they had electricity. Willie had done the awful job of terraforming Mars, which was a nice way of saying 'using poop to grow potatoes'. Luckily, Alex was their communication specialist, so they managed to get a message back to Earth, a 'hey bee-tee-dubs, you left two of your astronauts on Mars, can you send an Uber?' message.

He was a little worried about Julie, Luke, and Reggie, though. How were they doing, knowing they left behind two of their best friends? Thinking they were dead? Had ground control been able to contact them yet? Was leaving your friends' bodies on Mars better or worse than leaving your alive friends-

"You're pacing again," Willie said, coming out of the plastic-covered Potato Farm in the middle of the Hub. You actually kind of got used to the smell, so he didn't even wince. "If you want to get your steps in, I have a way better way to do cardio." He waggled his eyebrows at Alex, and Alex flushed.

Maybe being stranded alone would have been better than this torture.

Or, the torture that was...

"Let's go girls!"

Alex groaned. "Not Reggie's country playlist again!" he whined. He was so sick of Shania Twain. But they'd fried Luke's laptop and his extensive music library on the first day they tried to go outside the Hub. Turned out laptops didn't do well on the surface of Mars. Whoops. So now all they had left was Reggie's extensive country playlists.

"Come on, Hotdog, dance with me," Willie said, taking Alex' hand, shimmying his shoulders a little. It was hard to say no to him and his infectious grin, and sooner or later, they were dancing around the Hub, hollering along with Shania Twain, twirling each other.

Willie's laugh was beautiful, and for a moment, he forgot they were trapped on a desolate planet. At night, when the plastic and duct tape where they fixed section three clattered in the wind, and he crawled into Willie's bed, he didn't feel scared they were going to die at any second anymore. When he had to wolf down another potato, Willie's funny stories distracted him from thinking too much about how he now hated the taste of potatoes.

How could he ever think it was better to be out here alone than with Willie?

The song ended with Alex dipping Willie dramatically, and when he pulled him back up, he pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his lips. Willie made a little surprised noise, but before Alex could pull away, his arms wrapped around his neck and he deepened the kiss.

Turned out the best way to be stranded on Mars was not with your crush, but with your boyfriend.

[thoughts-i-thought]

Sometimes I like to relish in the feeling of just being alive, feeling cold water going down my throat as I swallow it, feeling the wind on my face as I step outside, feeling water run down my body as I take a shower, smelling my dinner cooking, tasting whatever I cooked for myself, running my fingers along the bark of the trees on a walk in the woods, listening to music as I clean my room, hearing the birds singing outside. I don't know if I deserve it so I may as well experience it truly before it's taken away.

-Caden (me)

[seneon]

dude wtf

★ TARANTULA GIRL !

(n) — dabi only likes girls who are more bite than bark note : written for @seneon, everyone’s fave goth gf <3

touya swears she sips souls for dinner.

he’s not sure how he came to that conclusion but the signs are glaring : her knuckles are white as ghosts as they bend around wine stem & bruise like wet graveyards. she drinks blood like it’s grape juice—it stains her lips a barberry hue & now touya’s walking towards her without even realizing it.

“fancy seeing you here.”

“you again.”

cherry-blood dribbles down her chin but she makes no effort to wipe it away. she presses the glass to her lips for yet another sip. “haven’t you harassed me enough this week ?”

“this is only the fourth time i’ve come talk to you.”

“it’s only tuesday, dabi.”

touya swallows the blood creeping up his throat & watches you swallow yours. your adam’s apple bobs as you take yet another sip, ( dabi wonders how you aren’t drunk yet, he knows this is far from your first glass ) plum coke kisses staining the rim. it’s been two minutes or three since he took a seat beside you & you haven’t even bothered to turn to look at him & fuck you’re so annoying.

but you’re so fucking pretty.

& so fucking bitchy too. dabi doesn’t test the waters. he knows they’ll swallow him whole through sore jaw & shark teeth but he might as well dive in anyways. he pokes at your knee, earning him a side eye before brushing a thumb over the berry-bruised skin. you don’t rip out his throat & eat it so he takes that as a good sign. he shifts his seat a little closer to yours.

“i’ll bite you.”

“no you won’t.”

he knows you won’t because he rubs at your knee & you let him touch you like a good girl. he draws silly shapes on your flesh—a rose, a bubble, a gun—& you let it all happen, you always do. you’re looking at him from the corner of your eyes like you want to split his teeth & bruise his chin but you’re pliant under his touch & pretend it doesn’t rot you. you’re a brat & a bitch but when it comes to dabi you can’t help but role play as something more sugary. sweeter. he bites back a grin.

“you’re awfully obedient today.”

“don’t test my limits.”

he chuckles, lazy fingers dragging deeper between your thighs. you set your wine glass on the counter & dabi takes it up in his own, taking a sip of the contents. you eye him before relaxing in your seat, his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. his hold tightens as he sets the cup at the counter. “wanna ditch?”

“isn’t this tomura’s party ?”

“he’ll understand,” he hums, offering a hand. you take it like it’s instinct & dabi pulls you to your feet, palm resting at the small of your back. for the first time tonight you’re looking dabi straight in the eyes (other times it was through them) so dabi can’t ignore the tug in his throat. your eyes are glossed & heavy & maybe it’s the alcohol but he swears your cheeks are flushed too. he can almost hear heavy breaths leaving semi-parted lips. he’s staring so you blink, “hello ?”

“hello, beautiful.”

it’s cheesy & corny & it makes you want to throw up but all that’s in your stomach is butterflies. dabi’s grip is tight as ever as he guides you through drunken bodies & wasted youths. his legs are long so it’s hard to keep up & you reach for his arm instead. you wrap your arms around his bicep & dabi prays for angels to kill him now.

“are your feet sore ? you can take off your heels in the car.”

you shake your head. “no need for that. you wont be seeing my feet that easily, touya.”

“ah, you caught me there.”

you smile a bit & you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen but your lips quickly tighten into their usual bored expression. you scan the night as dabi leads you once again & stops you at his s63 coupe. the color seems to melt into midnight darkness.

“haven’t been in this thing in ages.”

“haven’t fucked you here in ages, too”

“touya.”

dabi laughs and it’s a boyish chuckle, never ceasing even when you slap his arm to. your cheeks are drenched a poppy red but you tell yourself it’s the alcohol & fasten your seat belt. dabi has one hand trailing up your thigh & you try to swallow the butterflies flapping up your throat. he grabs at your palms & rubs circles on your knuckles & now the flapping in your throat is akin to clawing. you pull your hand away.

dabi furrows a brow, eyes never leaving the road. “now you wanna be a brat ? and you were being so good f’me too.”

“i’m literally gonna get out right now.”

dabi suppresses a smile. “you look pretty tonight.”

“you can do better than that.”

“that dress makes you look extra fuckable.”

“alright, that’s enough.”

dabi is laughing again but your heart rings in your ears. you and dabi aren’t friends with benefits. hell, you aren’t even friends. so why do you sit in the passenger’s seat of his car, his palm on your thigh as he parks in the middle of nowhere ?

“where are we ?”

“come sit.”

“touya.”

“please.”

it’s a whiny whimper & you’d be the devil to resist him when he looks at you so longingly, so lovingly it makes your teeth rot & heart ache. you unfasten your seat belt & climb into his lap while dabi guides you by your thighs. his scars are as ragged as ever.

“missed you,” he coos.

the bass of his voice tugs at your heart. his fingers move hair out of your face before tracing your jaw / chin / everywhere. dabi’s touch is butterfly wings flapping against rose petals. you close your eyes & it’s easy to forget he’s even there.

“let me kiss you.”

“isn’t it too early for that ?”

“isn’t it too early for that ?” he mocks, pulling you in by the chin. your lips taste like mulled peach & they’re colored dimmauve & your gloss is sticky and fuck it’s been forever since he’s had you like this & heaven knows how you drive him insane.

he squeezes your hips & you let out a whine & your strangled voice is the prettiest thing he’s ever heard. his palms trace lines down your backless dress, sparks stinging through rosebud fingertips. you whine a little more & it drives dabi on edge. he wishes you’d whine his name instead.

you grip at his shoulder & dabi lets you go for air. spit dribbles down your chin & your bottom lip is swollen but hell if you aren’t the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. you’re glossy eyes & rose tipped nose & peach jam cheeks that swell with matte blush. he wipes at your mouth & cradles your chin.

“have i ever told you i could kiss you all day ?”

you nod your head & kiss him again with teeth that bite like tarantulas.

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[caifanes]

junior year is so fucked up and i’ve gone full riz

like ok. so it’s about rules and the way they can be used against people unfairly. but there are elements of chaos and fate constantly at battle, knowledge and mystery. light and darkness. fire and ice. RAGE, but in a neutral application bc it can be wielded and controlled. (oppositely, kindness is a sort of passive inaction that relinquishes responsibility)

what makes it all more complicated is relationships, these dichotomies aren’t necessarily opposed but directly tied together.

the motifs and flowery language spruces up what can effectively be described in political terminology. the ratgrinders want democracy or a sort of simulation of equality but have in effect, performed a coup and destabilized the aguefort institution. they are using the hierarchy of deities, of ideology, to reinstate something that has only in name been killed but is sprouting up in small instances against the bad kids; but, in the recent episode, is directed specifically at the institution. it’s an anger directed towards unfairness and the bad kids are the proxy. (sklonda attempts to separate riz from them bc she feels that he’s a victim of it too) chaos with the goal of exacting a specific form of control, using religion.

but is the outcome fear? is fear another tool? there is an element missing that does not encompass the concept of rage.

added: i read old analysis from when i was watching sophomore year and the nightmare king thrived on fear and built machinations of one’s greatest fear so that must somehow connect to rage but im not sure.

this season in general is about consequences. the bad kids begin with fighting something that was passed off as joke but was built up enough that it came back around. figs wild ideas and lack of commitment, kristen’s avoidance, adaine disrupting her entire family structure, fabian having to do basic things he never learned how to do, gorgug experiments with his abilities beyond his innate rage, riz’ tendency to overwork himself and avoid. what do you do when you have everything to worry about and there’s a chance only some of those things will turn out ok?

[koshercosplay]

it's time for my yearly chanukah merchandise ratings! how are there always so many to choose from. as always, this year is a doozy and I am as bitter as ever lmao

this was quite literally labeled "hanukkah cone tree." gee I wonder which winter holiday is The One With The Trees. surely it's the jewish one with all the fire. let's make it blue and white just in case. 4/10 there is no excuse for this

why are the chairs so far apart. why is there nobody there. why are there so many grapes. what even are those green things. why is there soup. will the mysteries never cease. 7/10 purely because it's pretty

I for one welcome our jewish alien cousins. not sure what this has to do with chanukah but I want to hear about jewish life on mars so 8/10 friends come in out of the cold and have a latke with me

the more I looked at this, the worse it got. there's a literal christmas tree and tinsel but oh it's got blue lights so it's fine. and as we all know, children regularly hold fully lit candle menorahs with mittens while going door to door during a snowstorm. I guess who are we to stifle a child's latent desire for arson. 5/10 somebody save that poor dying kitten

this poor magen dovid is being forcefully converted to christianity and we need to help it. quick somebody put this on a sufganiyot stack. 4/10 we all know the intended target audience isn't interfaith families okay

do I even have to say it. please just. just stop. get One (1) Jew to weigh on your hanukkah products, I beg you. -392928373/10 walmart owes me a personal apology for making me see this with my own two eyeballs

I spent a full five minutes staring at this shirt desperately trying to make it make sense. I shouldn't have bothered. it's worse than the hebrew could ever be. 2/10 amposzu zusach mezchamal to you too

congratulations, once again you wrote gibberish. this says nothing. it's not chanukah, it's not happy holidays, it's nothing. the letters on the dreidel are an ACRONYM people! there's an order! 3/10 it's antisemitic that this has over 4,000 sales (thank you @quartzfox for sending this to me. now you all have to see it too.)

now these are CUTE. and the dreidel letters are in the correct order too, which is unfortunately impressive. 10/10 no notes, it has cats, would wear

(previous years 1, 2, 3)

[stottlemorgan]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Arthur Morgan NSFW Headcanons (Mid Honour) ⟡ ݁₊ .

I wrote these to help with my writing, trying to figure out what Arthur's like, and I really liked these so I thought I'd share 'em! Go wild! Female!Reader btw ⁠♡ This has 18+ smut in it, mdni x Low Honour Version x

⟡ He's actually a bit of a challenge to turn on. He may be a bit touch-starved but he's controlled. He loves a bit of PDA and showing you off, but he isn't one to get hard instantly. He can deal with sultry glances and smirks from you, if anything it makes him chuckle to himself and shake his head.

⟡ In order to get a more pronounced reaction from him, you have to tease your underclothes or brush your ass against his hips as you make your way past him in camp. He's a lot more receptive to physicality. And sound, if you run up behind him, wrap your arms around his midriff, yank him down a bit and whisper in his ear, he's gone.

⟡ He tends to end up smothering you if you're smaller. Sometimes by accident, sometimes not.

⟡ He starts off more reserved but as he grows hotter, his language and sounds start to slip. A "Jesus..." here and a "Shit..." there. He'll start groaning, his nose scrunching, baring his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. The majority of his sounds are heavy breaths, grunts, groans, the occasional growl. When he comes, he'll sometimes let out stuttering "Oh-"'s that get louder before melting into laboured panting.

⟡ But he'll also murmur silly, cheesy things in your ear through his ragged breaths. "You make me believe in Heaven." "I musta done somethin' right in life to have you fall in my lap."

⟡ He sweats like a pig. Post-orgasm, he's huffing and grabbing his shirt from where he threw it to wipe his face and neck.

⟡ He loves pleasuring his partner, and looooves eating women out. Kissing, sucking, lapping, making you squeal and whimper. He savours your sounds, wanting more and more. He'll keep at it until you're overstimulated and batting at his head, or until he has to come up for air, beard soaked. He'd happily drown in you.

⟡ And when you give him head? He's a little nervous having the focus be on him but once you start, he's sucking in shaky breaths, eyes fluttering shut, jaw slack, in heaven. He'll grab at the air a little, fingers twitching before he paws at your head gently. He'll cradle your face in his palms and moan when your dreamy gaze meets his whilst you lap at the underside of his cock. He'll thrust into your mouth nice and slow, his veins flooding with arousal and his muscles tingling with utter disbelief that he's lucked out so highly with you.

⟡ He's an ass man, but just loves your body in general. He loves gettin' a handful of you; Ass, hips, waist, thighs, breasts, all of you. "You're a first-rate stunner." He'll growl softly, a smirk curling his lips, his thick fingers dipping into your warm flesh, "My girl."

⟡ If he needs you to be quiet during sex, he'll shove his neckerchief in your mouth out of necessity. "Sh, shh, shhh, darlin'. Can't be wakin' up the whole camp with those pretty sounds of yours. Here now, open up."

⟡ If he's sans neckerchief, he lets you bite his shoulders or have you suck on his fingers. "You gotta keep quiet, sweetheart." He'll whisper against your skin as he cups the back of your head and brings your mouth to his shoulder or pushes two thick fingers into your mouth.

⟡ He'll instinctively support you; holding your hips, wrapping his arms around your waist, grabbing your shoulders to stabilise you. He loves being pressed against you, feeling your heart against his chest or back, relishing the connection.

⟡ He's also always checking that you're enjoying yourself, whether it be by asking you outright or watching you for signs of discomfort. "That feel good?" "Y'alright, darlin'?" "Looks like that feels good, hm?" "Yeah? Like that?"

⟡ He gets unsure about leaving marks on you via biting, sucking, spanking, not wanting to hurt you too much or mar your skin. You have to convince him you want it. He feels a bit guilty until he sees how much you enjoy it. And he can't deny the way the sounds you make when he does it strikes lightning through his loins. "You really are a little hellcat, ain'chya?"

⟡ He doesn't mind being marked himself though, not at all, doesn't matter. He's marked all over anyway, what's one more mark? Especially from you.

⟡ He love love loves kisses. All over him, all over you. If you pepper kisses about his face and chest, he'll very quickly flush a gorgeous crimson and look at you, dazed. He'll pull you into his lap and kiss you all over until you're laughing loudly.

⟡ He'll click his tongue at you gently like click click click "Sh, shh, shhh. Easy, girl, easy."

⟡ He'll also tut at you if you're being bratty or feeling overwhelmed. Tut, tut, "Now now, girly. Don't get shrewish with me." or tut, tut, "Oh, sweetheart. I know, I know, c'mon, sweetheart. Keep going, just a little longer."

⟡ He's a soft dom/switch mostly, but if you can get him aroused enough, he relaxes into being a little more dominating.

⟡ He occasionally enjoys being dominated but more so enjoys either a relatively equal sexual dynamic or he naturally falls into a soft dom, caring, cooing role.

⟡ He's not immune to losing himself in the moment, though. He'll breathlessly mutter a "God..." or his breath will hitch like he's been winded before his movements will become rougher, more desperate, like this blissful feeling will slip through his fingers if he doesn't grab you. "C'mere." "Gimme more, girly." "Un-unh, don'chu move now."

⟡ He naturally praises you, not giving it much thought other than wanting you to feel incredible. "That's it, darlin'." "Lookatchu." "Good girl." "Atta girl." "Ain'tchu a picture." "Pretty lady, takin' it all." "That's it, girly, keep on, keep on." "Yeah, more'a'that, baby. Oh, you're so good."

⟡ And when you praise him? Most of the time, he'll duck his head down and wince. "Naw, shut up." "Quit all that." Before trying to divert the focus back onto you by squeezing your ass or rubbing your waist.

⟡ But if he's lost in pleasure? It'll drive him mad. His grip will tighten on you and he'll hiss and huff. He won't respond to the praise verbally but he'll flush red and let out soft "Oh"'s as he holds onto you for dear life.

⟡ If you put his hat on, he will automatically want to have you ride him (But not before barking out a laugh). "Y'think y'can be a cowgirl without ridin', hm?" He'll say before spreading his legs and patting his thighs, "Giddy up, girly." He'll say with a sarcastic lilt, his eyes aflame with excitement.

⟡ If he's particularly tired, you can ride him hard enough to draw a whine from him. His head will fall back, his hands falling from you, his hips jerking into you messily. "Oh, darlin'."

Hope y'all enjoy! I love writing Arthur smut ✗♡✗♡

[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! (minor edits on jan 27) (more edits on mar 11)

ᯓ★ summary: In the quiet hours of the night, you and Bucky find solace in an unexpected friendship built on sleepless conversations and cigarettes. Slowly, walls come down, and a bond forms, kept hidden from the team. But when crisis strikes, the Avengers are shocked to discover just how deep that connection runs—and just how far you’d go for each other. (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 why he had one.  

For him, it started months before then.

Bucky was barely coping when you joined the team. His days were 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 horrible 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 and 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. Bucky 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. You just slightly pursed your lips and took his glare in stride. 

“Nice to meet you. Stark was telling me about you. All good things, so 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 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 perhaps you had been too, but you had fixed yourself just fine. Parallel wounds, yours had healed, while he 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 were tight, eyes fluttered shut. Were 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 Bucky saw you, your unguarded face. He was too involved in his stupor and 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 like the rest, taking you at face value, not digging deeper past your pretty face, sparkling eyes, and gleaming smile. But then he was angry at 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 Bucky, exasperated. It was a look of derision; he felt scorned, 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? I've been there and 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 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 what would happen when you didn’t behave.

It was clear he did not remember you. Why would he? He didn't know who you were when you passed each other in the hydra bases; 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 and was used only in important missions. 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 have to put yourself in compromising 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, and 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 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. You 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 entirely.

“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 and 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. It's 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, and 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.

As you stared at the beautiful Manhattan skyline, a storm of anger raged inside you.

“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 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 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 and being 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 me yearns to scream, 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 the chilly New York air into your lungs. 

“No, doll, it’s not dumb.” He turned to look at you, forcing you to 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 to feel 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 morning, doll, those who aren’t sleeping…” he trailed off, a soft pink brightening his cheeks.

“Are what?” your grin was teasing.

“Are you 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.” You 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 see 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 someone like me is 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 do?”

“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 dragged 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 of 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, and 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 coming out of his mouth. “Not you?”

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

He followed suit, crouching in front of you. He noted the way you eyed his legs, your inhale, and 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, and then you can try to find out.”

The thought made his heart race, and he stopped 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 A.M., 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. 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 with 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 was jealous that you weren’t bestowing a smile upon him, but he held none 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 was 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 was babbling on about how much fun these rare night outs were, where everyone was present.

He didn’t know what he expected, but you weren’t 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 taste buds 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 your problem, but you have 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 make it 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, and 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 to smoke or go to bed. The stilted silence made 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, 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 glossed 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. Having gone so long without it, 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 and comfortable. He did not know what to do with all these feelings; he hadn’t felt them before, not even in the 40s. He was happy then; it was normal for him to smile. He didn’t know how to appreciate it. Yes, there was war, but there was hope, and Captain America was 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 would die someday on a Hydra mission; he had made 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. Some parts of him still wanted that, 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 the 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 and today’s exertion weighed his body down and pulled his mind into sweet oblivion.

He awoke 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 typed furiously into a computer; Black Widow paced the floor, her hands fiddling with 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, and he needed a haircut. 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 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 was gruff, and 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 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 enemy’s stance was on the offense, about to attack, to keep her from him. He was about to threaten his best friend,  The Captain, to move when-

“Jamie…”  

His gaze flashed toward 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 were 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 okay, 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 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!!!!

[harmoonix]

Winter Observations ❄️

❄️ Saturn in late degrees or 3rd decan (20° to 29° degrees) is meant to finish a lesson in this lifetime. The lesson can be something unfinished from your past life

❄️ Capricorn Moons/10th house Moons have a hard time staying focused only on one thing. They want to do multiple things at once due to their multitasking power

❄️ Saturn in the 6th/8th or 12th house gets drained easily. Tiredness can be a problem for them. They need to maintain a balance between their work and some time for themselves

❄️ 2nd house placements may love to make gifts/spoil others with it. They also love to plan things for others like surprises, parties, etc

❄️ moon - jupiter aspects are gifted with wisdom and optimism. Somehow, it is hard for them to think badly upon a situation. Always keeping their heads up

❄️ Chiron in the 2nd house or Taurus may struggle with their worth/self - value. They can over criticize themselves. They may also struggle to love their bodies

❄️ Having Moon or Venus dominance in your chart shows that you're a very gentle and nice person. Also, don't let others take your nice personality in vain

❄️ a couple who shares the same chiron sign can share the same traumas/dark traits. Couple therapy can be a healing key for you

❄️ Sun in the 11th house can sometimes indicate being married multiple times during your lifetime. Kinda like J-LO reference (Mi gente latino💣)

❄️ Taylor Swift has both Moon and Chiron in Cancer, which can be a bit of a sign of 'making a song about every romantic experience you went through'

❄️ Those with Chiron x harsh Venus aspects have a hard time opening their feelings. Sometimes, these can indicate a fear of breakup or abandonment

❄️ Mercury in dark houses like 8th or 12th hosue can turn to be big snitches. Mercury tends to have a darker energy here, especially if also aspects Pluto

❄️ Aries in the 3rd/6th or 11th house can posses a violent nature when it comes to their talking. Basically, it tends to curse and talk dirty a lot

❄️ Virgo in the 8th or 12th house can be triggered by many things. Is like you live in permanent fear of something. They may also show lots of phobias

❄️ Someone with Virgo Chiron is definitely the therapist of their friends, family and even partner. People approach you so much when they need help

❄️ 1st house lord in the 4th or 6th houses have a very empathic/kind nature. They also tend to be quite nostalgic and very in tune with themselves

❄️ 10th hosue lord in the 11th house can becomes famous on internet before anything else. Is it like people will know you from social media

❄️ Aries Risings or Mars should find a career/job where they can take the leader position because it fits them so much. They can also work in fields where people may do lots of physical work

❄️ 3rd house placements, especially Venus/Mars/Moon, may have a passion for cars/motorcycles/bikes. Everything that has wheels

❄️ Leo Chrion is either a placement where the native seeks love and attention, either the placement where the native never got to experience these

❄️ Leo Jupiter has a lot of chances to become popular for their talents. It can be done in a creative field such as acting or drawing

❄️ Lots of ppl with Mercury in the 10th house tend to be remembered for their voices. It's like the voice you'll always remember, even after a long time

❄️ Venus in the 4th house can often get a spouse who can be the 'bread winner', basically a traditional family or a trad spouse as well

❄️ Venus and Moon in the 5th house can be good at flirting/taking the first step in a relationship. Head over heals energy

❄️ Mercury in the 6th house is a very active house for Mercury. Basically, communicating daily helps your mental health and mood. You may also worry a lot as a person

❄️ Idk why people romanticize possessive aspects in a relationship like pluto - venus/asc/mars. They're not okay unless you're in that situation..which I don't wish upon nobody

❄️ I wrote in the past about how I don't get along with cancer placements, I realized it was because most cancer people I knew were very controlling. Tbh with you, I never got the chance to meet good people with cancer placements

❄️ Lacking water placements in your chart can manifest in 2 ways:

Being hypersensitive, lacking the feeling of feeling love or closure

Being a cold person. Not showing your feelings to the world thinking that they see you as a weak/soft person

❄️ Pisces Risings always tell what's on their heart. They seem so genuine and nice even when you don't interact with them.

❄️ Moon in Scorpio or the 8th hosue can indicate intense inner feelings. Is hard for them to explain what they feel, and that's what can make them to be more private

❄️ Something that I observed within the moon in fire signs or fire houses 1st/5th/9th is that they get pissed off very easily. Is so easy for them to burst out and be angry/sad/moody

❄️ Jupiter in Cancer/Capricorn/Libra/Leo can experience a step family. Like step-dad, step-mom, step siblings, Jupiter can also give you things in excess ex: in Cancer/Leo, many family members

❄️ Jupiter in aspects with Lilith (all aspects), can indicate issues with hypersexuality. Like I said, Jupiter can give you things in excess. When aspecting Lilith, the desire for physical touch can be high

❄️🩵 Hope you all have a good winter season for the next 3 months!! Also early/late happy birthday for everyone born in the winter🙏🏼🥳

Harmoonix ❄️🩵🫶🏼 2024

[yume-fanfare]

prof complimented my dressed-to-fail outfit ✌️