#poor sam can't catch a break

[yoursleepyass]

No one:

Absolutely nobody:

Gabriel at 3AM: do you think fish feel wet?

Sam,tired of his shit and half asleep: Omg Gabe I will slap you. Shut up and sleep

[deanscutiepiesam]

Idk if y'all remember the 2016 killer clown sightings or whatever tf that was, but do y'all think Sam was freaking the fuck out everytime he left the bunker, because I do. 💀 And you know Dean was definitely fucking with him about it, too 😭

[sarcasticratsims]

Sam runs his parents market stall on weekends. Roy visits the night market a lot. He's currently working on restarting his marble collection after his Dad threw out his last one...

SEASICK

[poly-alt-partner]

Hide and Seek - Colby Brock X Fem!Reader - Part 2

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You join Sam, Colby, and The Boys on an investigation of Geelong Gaol in Australia. After the intro of the video, Sam and Colby set up their first 'challenge' of the night - Hide and Seek! What happens when Colby finds you first?

Info: The rest of the Hide and Seek challenge AND being alone with Colby! Poor guy is getting antsy to have you to himself ;)

Warnings: Cussing, unexplained noises, kissing, making out, fondling

______________________________________________________________

Suddenly Colby rounds the corner. "Hello?"

You nearly jump out of your skin and scream as you see him walk into the tiny room. Colby laughs a little as you pout and huff in disappointment, knowing you were found first.

"Well looky here, I found (y/n)," He boasts to the camera before turning it back around. You carefully stand up and dust yourself off with your free hand. He turns off his camera momentarily so you do the same with your little handheld.

"What's up?" You ask, glancing at the camera in his hand. Colby doesn't respond and instead moves in closer, a playful smile on his lips.

"I was hoping I would find you first, actually." He whispered as if someone would hear him. You feel your face heat up a little and bite your lip anxiously.

"And why is that, Brock? Is it just fun to watch me lose?"

"What? No.... I just wanted to have the chance to get you alone."

You giggle a bit and roll your eyes. Colby had been a lot more flirty since before the trip to Australia. Of course you didn't mind at all seeing as you had quite the crush on him.

"Now why would you want me all by my lonesome?" You ask, carefully wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer. You watch as Colby glances down at your lips and meets your eyes once more.

"Not sure if you've noticed but it has been hard to get some alone time. Especially to do this."

Colby leans down and kisses you gently while resting a hand on your waist. Both of you try to be mindful of the equipment as you hold onto each other. Before long the kiss deepens and Colby has your back against the wall behind you. You can feel the coldness of the bricks through your shirt.

You break away for a moment to take both of the cameras and set them on the floor away from you. Colby doesn't object and eagerly pulls you into him again to continue making out. This time he gently cups your cheek in his hand and snakes an arm around your waist. You sigh and sink into him as your surroundings seem to melt away.

A sudden sound outside of the cell catches your attention and you reluctantly pull away. Colby sighs and rests his forehead against yours.

"Fuck. I'm sorry for doing this here. I was getting impatient."

You smile and plant a small kiss on his nose. "It's fine, I get it. Maybe later."

Colby nods and lets go of you to pick up the cameras, handing you the handheld from earlier. You smile at him before turning on your cameras and continuing to film.

"There was a sound outside just now but we didn't catch it."

You nod in agreement and glance past Colby through the door way. "It sounded like a footstep, I think."

"Alright, we still need to find everyone. Help me find people," Colby says as he turns around. You follow him with your handheld looking every which way to illuminate the hallways and cells. Eventually you both find Narrator standing in the corner of a room behind the door.

"You were found first, (y/n)," Narrator asks as you both follow behind Colby.

You shrug and give a small laugh. "I didn't get very far, honestly. I was hoping he would run past me to find you guys." Of course you don't mention what happened while the cameras were off. You can't help but smile a little and touch your lips with your fingers. Now you had to find a way to make time for Colby while on this trip.

Once the three of you had gone upstairs you managed to find Juicy and Eddie back to back. You heard Eddie accuse Juicy of betrayal and you remember seeing them earlier before hiding.

"Maybe you two shouldn't have hid in the rooms right beside each other," you point out jokingly.

"Why did you hide in the room next to me?"

Eddie just shook his head as the five of you continued your search for the last three group members. Taking a moment to recoup you all discussed where the other guys might be in the Gaol. Narrator mentioned seeing Sam early on but wasn't sure where you went from there. The only information you had concerned Eddie and Juicy who you already found.

Everyone agreed to split up to look in different spots and of course you chose to go with Colby. Narrator and Eddie looked at you and exchanged glances before going to the first floor. I guess we're more obvious than I thought.

The two of you continued to look into the cells and rooms on the second floor, leaving Juicy to look in the kitchen. Having no luck on finding anyone you all reconvened by the main stairs.

"I checked the kitchen," Juicy told you and Colby. "No one was there."

"Okay so then third floor has to be where they are."

Eddie led Colby and you to the third floor while Narrator and Juicy went back towards the kitchen to reinvestigate. Before long they rejoined and talked about strange sounds like feet shuffling.

It took a little longer to find Josh and Mully but then Sam was the last one still hiding. You and the rest of the group returned to the circle as Colby yelled out for Sam. With no response, Mully and Josh asked Colby if this was a part of the plan. You couldn't be sure yourself considering you didn't even know about this hide and seek challenge to begin with.

Suddenly you all heard a whistle ring out and everyone started looking around to pinpoint where it came from.

"Sam, whistle again."

Another whistle but no one was sure where it came from. Everything was echoey in this place. Eventually Mully spotted Sam upstairs on the second floor.

"We didn't check the other side, he was over here!" Colby explained. It seemed pretty dumb to have missed a whole section of the prison while seeking.

Finally everyone was back together and ready for the tour before the full investigation.

*-*-*

You were exhausted and ready to head to the hotel once filming was done and equipment was gathered for the night. The adrenaline had worn off when each person was being saged to prevent any form of attachments from Geelong Gaol. You were glad to have a few days to relax before the next investigation with The Boys.

"That was really fun," you said before yawning. Colby smiled at you gently and kissed your temple before loading some things in the back of the rental vehicle.

"I had fun, too. Although it seemed like things were amping up when I was under."

"Yeah. There was a lot of activity before we called it a night. You'll have to watch the footage to see what you missed out on."

"That can wait until we get back to the states." Colby closed the trunk and walked towards the driver's side. "In the meantime, let's get back so we can rest up."

After the three of you loaded into the car, Colby drove to the hotel you guys were staying at. You had your own room while the boys shared a room a little further down the hall. Although you three were close you preferred your own sleeping space, especially on longer trips like this one.

You had changed into your pajamas and set out your outfit for the next day when there was a knock at your door. Considering how late it was you know it could only be Colby. Your heart fluttered a bit as you quickly moved across the room to open your door.

Colby was wearing pajama pants and an old band shirt. "Hey."

"Hey," you greeted, feeling a little shy. "Were you coming to say good night?"

"Something like that." Colby smiled and stepped closer, causing you to step back and let go of the door. Before it even latched Colby had pulled you flush against him, not breaking eye contact. You quickly inhaled from being caught a little off guard.

There was a short pause as his eyes glanced between your lips and your eyes. You couldn't stand to wait any longer so you pulled him closer by his shirt and kissed him. Colby groaned and held onto you tighter. Both of you were tired of waiting for this moment and it showed in how you clung to one another during the kiss.

Colby gently held the side of your head and tilted his own to kiss you deeper, gaining a small whimper from you. That was all it took for him to lose his cool. Colby grabbed your ass and lifted you up, carrying you over to the hotel bed. You laughed into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck for stability before he set you down.

He looked down at you with a hungry look in his eyes and you felt a shiver run up your spine in a good way. All you could do was smile and pull him back into you as you laid back. Colby happily obliged and careful hovered with his hand on the bed to keep himself up.

"I should have done this sooner," he whispers against your lips before kissing you gently a few times. "Fuck, why did I wait so long?"

"We've been busy, Colby," you assure him, returning his kisses. "I'm surprised you held out this long. You were being pretty obvious with your flirting."

"Yeah? I thought I was being subtle."

"Considering some of The Boys could tell, I wouldn't say you were subtle."

Colby chuckles and continues to kiss you, not wanting to waste time talking anymore. His free hand begins to slide up your thigh slowly, making way under your shirt. You shiver from the cold feeling of his rings but only pull him closer, wanting to be held. Eventually his knee is positioned by your hip to help Colby balance a little better.

He pulls away so his lips are just barely touching yours, his blue eyes looking down at you. You meet his gaze and smile as you brush some hair out of his eyes.

"You'll be mine, won't you (y/n)?" Colby's breath tickles your lips as he whispers to you.

"A little late to ask, don't ya think?"

He rolls his eyes and smiles, giving you a few more kisses before standing up. Offering his hand, he helps you sit up on the bed.

"I should get back before Sam locks the door on me."

"You didn't bring your hotel key?"

"Well," Colby chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was just kind of going with the flow. You know, since I couldn't wait to kiss you again."

You shake your head and laugh. "Yeah, yeah. Good night, Colby."

He walks to the door, turning back to smile at you and wink. "Good night, (y/n)."

______________________________________________________________

This was a lot longer than part 1 but I HAD to make the end worth it! I hope you enjoy! I'll try working on the Sam version of this soon when I have time (I've been writing a fanfic recently so that's been my main focus with writing.)

[bel1ewrites]

Light Weight (Samantha Carpenter x Reader)

a/n: giggling

Description: Sam seems to have formed a bad habit.

WC: 2.2k

Warnings: drugs, consumption of drugs, high sex, top!Sam, bottom!reader, Tara can never catch a damn break

IT'S not like Sam had meant to make it a habit. In fact, she'd attempted the opposite, trying her very best to keep it to a minimum. A once in a blue moon type of thing. A rare, yet not unwelcome occasion. Something to look forward to after a stressful day of trying to appear put together. 

She hadn't expected those stressful days to be a common occurrence. 

"Sam," Tara calls from outside the bedroom door, voice laced with annoyance, "it fucking reeks and I have a guest over! Do that shit outside."

The clock in the corner ticks quietly, the bed creaks beneath Sam as she shifts, blunt held carefully in her fingers. She lays on her back, limbs sprawled and loose, smoke slowly escaping her lungs. 

"Fuck off Tara," She shoots back lazily, bringing the object of her relaxed state back up to her mouth. Each inhale makes her feel lighter, a little less coherent and a little less... herself.

"Dude, I'm sick of-"

"Just leave it alone, Tara," a different voice interjects, one that's very familiar and makes Sam smile around the blunt. It's muffled by the shut door. She moves to stand up, the fabric of her tank top crinkling a little, loose plaid boxers falling comfortably to her mid-thigh. 

It takes her a second to walk to the door, opening it to find Tara turning to leave, spotting you in the living room with your arms crossed over your chest and clad in a sweatshirt that seemed to be a number of sizes too big on you.

Her lips turn downward as she thinks about the possibility of you wearing someone else's clothes. She doesn't like that at all.

"Just go back in your room Sam," Tara sighs, grabbing her coat from the back of the couch, "we're gonna head out."

Her eyes still haven't left you, drooping lids lowering as her stare drops to your bare legs. 

"You leaving too?" She asks, head tilted and eyes still glued to your skin. She thinks she sees you shiver a little. Her fingers grip the blunt a little tighter.

"Not sure I wanna stay," you shrug, catching her gaze. 

A low laugh filters through her throat, "Why?" She lilts, "Mad I'm not sharing?"

Tara can't help but roll her eyes, watching as Sam stalks forward slowly, like she's trying not to scare you off.

She's aware that there's not much left in the tightly wrapped bundle, maybe enough for one or two more hits, but she's feeling generous when she stops about a foot away from you.

She smiles wider when your eyebrow quirks up in defiance, looking down at you and watching the light flush that falls over your face. Your eyes track the movement of her arm as she moves to hold it out to you, caught on the shift of her muscles.

She doesn't really think you'll take it. It's fun, messing with you, making you blush and squirm. 

Unexpectedly, you grab it, bringing it up and placing it between your lips where Sam's eyes linger, seemingly fascinated by the way they wrap around it. Your cheeks hollow a little when you inhale, and she has to suck in a deep breath when your eyes meet hers from under your lashes. She hums.

"Oh for fucks sake," Tara groans, breaking Sam's attention. "I'm leaving. You two have fun." 

You're too focused on the burn in your lungs to register the door opening and closing, but Sam is all too aware of the lack of company.

When you exhale, you can't stop the coughing that follows. It's a little amusing to Sam who simply steps closer to you and rubs slow circles on your back.

"Poor baby," She pouts, pulling the blunt from your hand and taking the last drag before walking to toss it in the sink.

You're still struggling a little when she gets back, face screwed up in disgust. 

"That was awful," you complain with a groan. 

Sam just rolls her eyes, wrapping her arms around your neck limply and scanning your face. "Was that your first time?"

The room is quiet, save for the sounds that filter in from the city outside. You nod, then blink a few times. The hit you took was big, and you'd even held it in your lungs for a few seconds.

She watches your pretty eyes grow heavy, lids falling half mass and straining to look up at her. 

Light weight.

She giggles a little at the thought. Then you giggle because she's giggling and everything's funny at the moment, but then she looks at your mouth and stops giggling, so you look at hers and do the same because her lips are so pretty and her solid body is suddenly really close, but not close enough at the same time and there's a clock ticking somewhere.  

"Whose hoodie is this?" Sam asks, tone low and husky. She's pressed against you, her arms around your neck and her eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips to your neck that's tilted to look up at her.

"Mmm..." you think, heavy arms wrapping around her waist like they belong there. "Chad gave it to me. I was cold."

Sam sighs. 

"I don't like it," She admits. Tugs at the hood.

"Okay." 

"Yeah."

"Yeah, okay."

"Mhm."

"Take it off then." 

"Yea- wait what?" 

Your focus is drifting, eyes skating around her face, her neck, her shoulders that tense. All she can do is try not to lose her mind. 

"Take it off," you smile dopily. Fingers moving over the fabric of her tank top, over her shoulders and settling on the warm skin of her triceps before dropping to your sides. 

She moves slowly, like the air is holding her down and it takes all of her effort to remove herself from you and grip the hem of the hoodie. 

The gray fabric bunches as she pulls it up one slow centimeter at a time, revealing the hem of your shorts, then the waistband. The skin right above it. The skin right above that. Your tensed stomach and more smooth skin and more skin and ribs and lace and Sam's heart should probably slow down. 

She watches your chest rise and fall, pushing against the fabric of your bra when she gets past it. "Lift your arms," she trembles, and you do it before the words even leave her mouth. It's agonizingly slow, but inexplicably fast. 

When it's finally, finally off, she drops it to the floor like it's a dirty rag, grabs you by the waist, and kisses you so hard you see stars.

It's hot and needy, the way your lips move over hers. She nips and tugs, squeezes the skin of your hips and pulls you closer. Every sound you make washes over her like cold rain and clogs up her mind until all she can think about is you. 

You pull back, light headed and desperate for air, and Sam seems to take that as an invitation to shift her attention to your neck. 

"Shit," you pant, "Sam-" She hums, teeth scraping your jugular. "What... jesus- what about Tara?"

"Shh."

Images of you flushed and lying beneath her flash behind her eyes. You're so pretty. You're so fucking pretty. You're still half clothed -which is more clothed than Sam would like- and the idea of you in a bra and too short shorts is even better in real life than in her fantasies. Lace and bare skin and messy hair and-

"Do you want this?" She asks desperately, forehead buried in the crook of your neck. "Because I really want this."

You don't answer. Well, not verbally. Instead, you reach behind your back and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and to the floor.

Sam forgets to breathe.

Then she spurs into action, backing the both of you up until the back of your legs hit the arm of the couch. She pushes you back onto it, smirking at the shocked little squeal that you let out before you catch yourself and lean back on your elbows.

Sam attempts to speak, but nothing comes out so she just gives up and trails her eyes down your body, pausing at your bare chest.

She's still barely breathing, mind fuzzy as she tracks your hands that move down your body, hooking on the fabric of your shorts. Then she's moving again, climbing on top of you and shifting you up the couch. Her red eyes find yours, looking for any trace of doubt. When she finds none she practically tears off the rest of your clothes, settling between your legs.

"I've thought about this before," She admits, folding her arms over your pelvis and resting her chin on top of them.

"Thought about what?" Your hands tangle in her hair. 

She shrugs. "Fucking you."

She feels your hips twitch up from beneath her, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. 

"Yeah?" You shiver.

"Every time I see you." She moves her hands up your waist, runs her thumbs over your nipples. You're trembling a little. "I've thought about how you'd feel," you gasp when she squeezes your breasts in the palms of her hands, "what sounds you'd make, how good you would be for me."

Her mouth hovers right above where you need her the most, heavy breaths hitting you and shocking your system. 

“Ask me for it,” she orders, voice low and gravelly. 

The room is buzzing, it’s alive and full of need. Every sound is tuned out by your own mind running wild, filling with static as she tells you to beg her. You’ve only ever heard her say things like this in your mind, late at night with your hand between your legs and a pillow trapping your sounds. 

“Please,” you mumble, throat dry and voice crackly. You know what she’ll say next.

“Please what?” This time, when she speaks, her lower lip brushes against the top of your cunt.

You have to bite your lip for a second, refocus on the task at hand. “Please make me feel good,” you finally push out, words shy and unsure.

It happens in slow motion. The way she finally gives you what you want, mouth immediately pressing against you like she needs you more than oxygen. You struggle to process that, holy shit, Samantha Carpenter is actually totally fucking you right now. Her tongue is pressing just above your entrance, flat and strong and sure and Samantha Carpenter is fucking you like she’s imagined it before. 

You reach down with shaking hands, tangling your fingers in the roots of her dark hair and anchoring yourself to her. There’s no use in trying to stop the needy little moans and gasps that have her grasping at your thighs and humming into you. 

When she wraps her lips around your clit and sucks, running her tongue underneath it, you arch into her and make a noise you never knew you could make. “Just like that,” you pant out in between curses and moans. “So good.”

She takes your encouragement and doubles her efforts, shifting around while remaining attached to her new favorite spot. Suddenly, you feel her mouth leave you, and when you look down to see what’s wrong she shoves two steady fingers inside of you.

Your head falls back against the couch, neck straining and mouth open with your brows pinched together. Everything is heightened with the weed coursing through your system, your senses are blending together and blurring and muting and you're not sure what to call what you’re feeling but you hope it never stops. 

She fucks you slow for a few minutes, soaking in the light of you. When she can't be patient anymore she gives up.

Sam watches you with hungry eyes. Her bicep flexes with each movement of her arm, her fingers hooking up and pressing to find the perfect spot. She never could’ve imagined this; the real thing. 

“You’re so pretty, baby,” she mutters, eyes soaking in the sight of you like it's the last time she’ll ever see it.

The praise only makes you hotter. It makes your muscles tense and your lower stomach fills with heat as she moves inside of you. It’s never felt like this before. It’s all consuming. 

You can’t tell where you end and she begins when she moves her free hand to rub tight circles on your clit. You feel as though you’re transcending, but your body is anchored by her touch. 

“Fuck,” you whine out. 

She hums in response. “So good for me.”

Pressure builds within you, a forest fire spreading throughout your entire being. At some point your lips form the word please and you begin chanting it like it’s the only thing you know. 

Please, please, please, please Sam, please, pl-

She pushes down on your clit and pulls up roughly inside of you, whispers a sweet, “Come on, let me see you,” and suddenly you’re thrown off of the edge. 

It’s a violent pleasure. The kind where you forget who you are momentarily, and all you know is that you feel good. The kind that is over too soon, no matter how long it lasts. The kind that has waves that push you, and pull you, and push, and pull, and stop. 

When you come down, your mind is still a little fuzzy. It feels like you’re imagining everything that just happened, but you’re not and Sam is right there and she’s somehow gotten the both of you into a position where you have your head in her lap and her fingers thread through your hair. 

You stay like that for a while. Neither of you talk, she just looks at you while you look at her. 

Then the door opens.

[laiosynth]

come away, oh ghostly child (pt 1)

(PT 2 ->)

Danny is tired. So, so tired.

Months pass by and every day, it's something new, something new coming for him.

Skulker, Technus, Vlad, Pariah, the fucking Box Ghost, there's always something there to ruin his fucking day. He can't catch a single fucking break.

He's tired.

And one day, Skulker decides to attack again. He chose the wrong day.

Skulker attacks in the middle of the street, facing Danny down.

'I will have your pelt!'

Danny turns to Skulker, transforming in the middle of the street, and sends Skulker a glare that has the hunter completely terrified and confused.

'When will it stop, Skulker?'

Skulker, confused by the change in Danny and the question, stays silent.

'Haven't I given enough? Haven't I done enough? When will it be enough, Skulker? When you finally have my pelt on your ancient-damned wall? When Vlad finally gets what he wants?'

'I-' Skulker tries, only to be cut off with only a wave of Danny's hand.

'I'm a fool, a damned fool, for thinking anything will change. Nothing will change, not you, not the other ghosts, not my parents' views on ghosts, nothing. It never changes. And isn't that just poetic?'

Have you ever been to a water park with one of those giant buckets that hangs up above, only to pour water when it reaches its fill?

Danny's bucket is full, and it's about to pour.

Amity Park is about to be the poor, unsuspecting child standing under it.

'When will it be enough? When will I be enough? When will it stop?'

Ectoplasmic tears fall down Danny's face, and his voice echoes, dangerously close to a wail.

'When? Or am I really just the fool? Everyone laugh it up at the foolish ghost who tries to help! Doesn't he know he's dead too, and nobody is fucking mourning?'

A storm brews above Amity, the wind whipping around. Tucker and Sam's voices scream at him, but he can't hear much now above the growing ringing in his ears.

The world is reacting as the Ghost King's anguish spills over the edges.

'I find it so ironic that despite being dead, everyone acts like I'm alive. I'm not. I'm fucking dead, and yet I'm still expected to, what, be the town fucking superhero? I'm 15! What the fuck can I do?'

His anguish leaks into the Infinite realms as trees come down and lightning strikes everything high enough.

'I'm so--' waves terrorize the coastlines-- 'fucking--' storms build in even the dryest of places-- 'TIRED.'

...

And then, quiet. Comfort, like a warm towel.

'Hello, child,' says Gotham, having felt his anguish. She holds Danny close and warm, swaddled in stars and fog. 'I feel your pain. Please, let me help.'

Danny knows his answer before she even finishes.

Gotham smiles.

...

Danny wakes up, 3 years old, with a blanket of stars over his shoulders, on the roof of a building he doesn't know the name of.

Danny cries because he is cold and it has begun to rain in Gotham.

Hush, child, Gotham whispers in his ear. My city is your new playground.

Danny's cries quiet.

And little Danny smiles, because he feels loved.

He ties his blanket of stars around his neck and begins to float. His memories are hazy, but he doesn't mind, because here is this wonderful new place for him to explore!

And so he begins to leap from roof to roof, giggling all the way.

Gotham smiles upon him.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Twin Flame - Epilogue: "The Great War"

"My hand was the one you reached for all throughout the Great War. Always remember, we're burned for better. I vowed I would always be yours, because we survived the Great War..."

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes The Twin Flame Chapter List | The Grumpy x Sunshine Universe

"You can do this. It's fine. You're being silly."

He forces himself to take another deep breath. Anticipation thrums in his veins. It rolls off of him, he almost feels sorry for the poor person he sat next to on the plane.

He's practically shaking with excitement - and has been since he left his apartment back in New York. He can't really remember the last time he felt this excited. 

The freshness of the Louisiana air fills his lungs as he drives with the windows down. Back to you. Back to you for the first time in months.

That's what the feeling is, he realizes.

It's the feeling of coming home. 

You're right about the sky. It is really blue. 

By the time he pulls up to Sarah's home, Bucky can hardly sit still. He hardly has the state of mind to remember to grab his store bought cake from the passenger seat of his rental car. 

"Hey!" A familiar voice greets him. Bucky turns away from the car to see Sam's familiar grin beckoning over to him. "You made it!"

"Of course," Bucky breezily replies, the grocery store cake in his hand making it slightly easier to hide his fidgety hands. He tries not to crane his neck around Sam. He tries not to be rude and focus on what Sam's telling him.

In this moment, it's impossible for him. He can feel that inexplicable pull all over again. The ache in his chest slowly subsiding with every step closer to you. 

It's almost funny to him. The disciplined solider, the highly trained assassin, the notoriously stoic Bucky Barnes, can hardly keep the giddiness of his face. He can hardly pay attention to his friend.

As Sam talks with his beaming grin and animated gestures, Bucky is sure he's at least faking it well, that Sam has no idea there's only one person Bucky is looking for at this moment. 

It's clear that Bucky failed when Sam starts waving his hand in his face. "Um, Bucky?"

Bucky's head snaps back toward Sam. "Huh?"

Sam quirks a brow at Bucky, an unimpressed purse tugging at his lips, "I asked how's it going in New York."

"Oh," Bucky sheepishly exhales with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "It's fine. Same old, same old."

"You are literally not paying attention to a word I'm saying."

"Of course, I am," Bucky promises, once again, craning his neck to look around Sam. "I always listen to what you're saying."

"I think you should shave your head."

Bucky nods, still looking around the party. Still no sign of you. "Good idea."

"And can I have your arm?"

"Mhm..." Bucky hums, his eyes flickering to the house to see if there's any sign of you. "Sure, no problem."

"Stop it," Sarah scoffs, swatting Sam's shoulder. 

Bucky takes a momentary break of searching for you, offering a gentle smile to Sarah. "Oh, hey, Sarah, how are you?"

"Good. Keeping busy."

"This is a great turnout. You should be proud of yourselves." He extends the store bought cake he brought to the party, "I almost forgot, I brought this for you guys."

Sam narrows his eyes, "Who are you and what have you done with Bucky?"

"Thanks, Bucky." Sarah nudges her head towards her house. "Hey, would you mind putting this in the kitchen? I wouldn't want it to melt."

"I got -" Sam begins to offer. 

"Bucky," Sarah pointedly repeats, nudging her head toward the house again. 

"Oh, yeah, sure!" Bucky blurts, still only half catching on to Sarah's innuendo. "I'll just - I'll be right back."

Sarah smiles widely. "Great. Thank you." 

He stumbles towards the house before Sam can object again.

And the moment he starts towards that house, he can feel it. He swears he can. He can feel himself being pulled towards the house. Each step makes the ache lessen and lessen. Each step feels like his rib cage is expanding and allowing him his first real breath in months. 

He looks at the roof, the night spent holding you in his arms. The flowers that create a gentle waft through the warm summer breeze. Everything feels brighter. Like for the first time, he sees all the hope the world has to offer.

There is no thought to it. His feet carry him up the steps, past the living room, past the dining room, straight to you.

You sigh as you hear the screen door slam shut and footsteps approaching the kitchen.

"Sam, for the last time, the cake will be ready when -" Your words stop dead in their tracks when you turn away from the counter to see who waits in the doorway. Those blue eyes that kept you staring at the sky day in and out. "James..."

A breath lodges in his throat as he takes in the sight of you for the first time in months. The cuts and scrapes, the knuckles bruised like violets, were all but gone. Still, he knew better than most that some scars would never heal.

And yet, you're here. Standing before him. Standing tall. With a smile that could light up this whole town. "Hi."

"Hi." 

"Hi."

You chuckle, "You said that already."

"Right," he giggles. He couldn't believe he'd just giggled. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed, let alone giggled like an unburdened spirit. His hand anxiously rubs the back of his neck, "Hi - I mean - it's good to see you. Sorry, I just - I thought about this moment so damn much and I thought I knew what I was gonna say but - It's just - God, I missed you."

Your grin grows even wider. "I missed you too, so, so much."

"How have you - "

You don't wait for him to finish his question. You rush forward, pulling him down towards you. Your lips meet his in pure desperation, you need this like you need to breathe. Your fingers twist around the hair at the nape of his neck as his find your waist. He pulls you flush against him, his fingertips digging into your hips.

Despite how desperate and frenzied the kiss is, there's a sense of relief, of calm, of peace that accompanies it. It feels like you can breathe, a full deep breath after months of treading water.

After months of rebuilding, you've finally found your way back home.

"What a great way of telling me to shut up," Bucky chuckles against your lips. "You should do it again."

"Hold that thought," you sigh against Bucky's mouth.

Bucky quirks an eyebrow at you. "What?"

"AJ, Cass, Get out here..." You look over Bucky's shoulder to just beyond the doorway. "What are you guys doing?"

Sure enough, the two boys appear, meekly shuffling into the kitchen. "Nothing..."

"You're doing nothing? Really?"

"Uh..." Cass stutters out. 

You lower yourself to each of the boys, your eyes playfully flickering between the two of them, "So who's gonna tell me what you two are up to?"

"Uncle Sam said he'd give us twenty bucks if we came to bother you," Cass blurts.

"He told us not to tell them!" AJ scolds his brother. 

"Oh," you smirk, crossing your arms over your chest. "Did he?"

The boys both look down at their shoes with an apologetic, pouting expression. "We're sorry."

"Oh no, don't be sorry," you assure them. "Did he give you guys 20 dollars each?"

The boys shake their heads. "No."

"How about this? I'll give you guys 20 dollars each if you tell Sam that you saw Bucky going upstairs."

"Each?" they marvel.

"Each."

"Why'd you do that?" Bucky asks as the two boys scurry off to find Sam.

"You'll see."

Sam runs in only moments later, skidding to a halt when he sees you and Bucky standing in the kitchen. "Oh... hey, guys. What's up?"

You cross your arms over you chest, your lips pursing in distaste. "Nothing, just had an interesting conversation with AJ and Cass."

"Oh, okay," Sam excessively nods, feigning innocence.

"Sending children to spy on us," you admonish, tsking once. "That's low."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sam lies, defiantly lifting his chin.

"They sold you out, Sam."

Sam's mouth gapes slightly. "For how much?"

"20 bucks each."

"Damn it," Sam hisses. "You know, I used to be able to bribe the both of them with a 5."

You point to the front door. "Get out."

Sam narrows his eyes, flicking two fingers between his gaze and Bucky's. "Fine... but I'm watching you."

"You know, I'm starting to get why you don't like Sam," you joke.

Bucky groans in relief, resting a hand on your waist. "It's about time."

You pat his chest once, your hand sliding down his arm to his hand. You lace your fingers with his and jut your chin in toward the back door. "Come on, let's go out back. I wanna show you something."

 "What do you wanna show me?"

"You'll see," you coyly reply.

You lead him out the back door, following a path of carefully paved stone lined with wildflowers of all kinds. The smell of the flowers waft through the summer breeze once more. And just like before, the day seems brighter with you by his side.

As the path comes to an end, it splays out into an open circular garden brimming with vibrant colors, brimming with life.

In the very center, a willow tree with full, cascading leaves, standing tall surrounded by the most striking flowers he's ever seen.

You'd spent months working on it. A way to forgive. A way to say goodbye. A way to honor those fallen. And then finally, a way to move forward carrying the love and grief of your found family. "They're-"

"Poppies," Bucky finishes for you. The most strikingly red poppies he'd ever seen. The flower of remembrance, if Bucky remembers correctly. 

He wasn't sure if it was the sun or simply the high of being so close to you after so long, but they almost looked like they were glowing in the afternoon light.

His breath catches in his throat. The stones beneath his feet merge into a singular path. Still holding his hand, you guide him around the garden.

While he wasn't by any stretch of the imagination a flower person, he was struck by the vivid blues of the small path of flowers at the very end of the path.

The same color of that bright blue afternoon sky. The sky that reminded you of your twin flame. No matter how far apart, no matter how much time passed, he'd always be there. As unwavering, as bright eyed as the vast blue sky. "Those are forget me nots."

"It's beautiful," he whispers.

"It's a memory garden."

"You did all this?"

"Well, Sam helped with the stones and that little table over there, but I - I wanted to do it alone. I wanted to mourn them. I even picked different flowers for all them."

"You took the bad and turned it into something good."

It felt like a lifetime ago that you said those words to him. Your silent vow to your caretaker - that you would leave the world better than you entered it, that you would take the bad and turn it into something good.

It was the same vow you made to each and every member of your family, whether they were gone or simply lost, that you would turn the ache of grief into something good.

"You remember that?"

"Of course I did. I remember everything about you."

The words leave his lips so casually, like there is no other choice, all roads lead back to you. 

You find yourself momentarily at a loss for words, struck by Bucky's words. He really did remember. Those little, fleeting, stolen moments really meant as much to him as it did to you.

"We can sit here," you manage to rasp out, gesturing to the wooden picnic table at the end of the cobblestone path. "It'll be at least a few minutes before Sam finds us out here."

His hand rests on the center of the picnic table as he takes a seat across from you. "So?"

Your hand slides towards his, but you don't hold his hand. You stroke his fingers, circling and toying with his middle finger until you move onto the next finger. It's your habit, Bucky knows from seeing you twiddle and twist your fingers for years, but instead of reaching for your hand, you reach for his. You use him to ground yourself.

You smile up at him with a small shrug of your shoulders, "So?"

"I guess I'm a little curious," Bucky wonders. Sure, you hadn't completely lost touch with Bucky in these months, but you both gave each other the space to work things out. "Things seem like they're really working out."

"I'm hopeful."

"Me too." He can't remember the last time he said that word: hopeful. He doesn't remember the last time he truly, genuinely felt that either. Sitting here, with you, basking in the sun, that's exactly the feeling that swells in his ribcage. Hope. Hope with more on the horizon.

"Yeah... that lawyer, Matt, is great. He really helped us out. I know it's not over yet, but I think we're finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. They called me to testify in front of the Senate next week."

His shoulders tense as he hears the words leave your mouth in such a casual tone. "Wait, what?"

"Matt thinks it'll work in our favor," you explain. "He says it's no good hiding anymore. That - that people think I'm a hero, that they'll take my side."

Bucky's eyebrows furrow, his jaw squaring as he takes it all in. "You're putting a lot of trust into this guy, aren't you?"

"Sounds like someone is a little jealous," Sam sarcastically mutters from behind Bucky.

"Guess he found us again," Bucky grumbles. 

You reach across the table to grab Bucky's hand. "Don't be jealous. Matt's a good guy, but I won't lie, there was something a little off about him."

Bucky's eyebrows pull in. "Like what?"

You shrug. "I don't know."

"Maybe it's the fact that he's a blind vigilante that wanders around Hell's Kitchen on his off time," Sam deadpans, taking a seat beside you.

"No..." You shake your head, your mouth twisting as you try to place what exactly you found so strange about Matt Murdock. "I don't think that was it. I think it was his friend. He was nice, but what kind of name is Foggy?"

"What kind of name is Bucky?" Sam counters.

"I like his name, thank you very much," you retort.

Bucky can barely appreciate your defense of name as he tries to process everything that you and Sam have just thrown at him. "So you're telling me that you two have spent all this time with some vigilante-slash-lawyer and a guy named Foggy?"

"Exactly," you and Sam simultaneously reply. 

Bucky takes a deep breath in, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I forgot how exhausting it is keeping up with you guys."

Sam snorts, "And that's not even the half of it."

"What more could there possibly be?"

"You're forgetting about Karli," Sam points out.

"Right," Bucky nods. "So where is she these days?"

"That's what Joaquin was doing after everything that happened in New York," Sam replies. "Apparently, it's not easy to find a safe place for one of the world's most wanted fugitive."

Bucky scoffs, "No kidding."

"She's somewhere safe. Somewhere we they can help her, teach her."

"I've visited her a few times. It's pretty cool. They call it a school for gifted kids, and it's actually like a real school," you explain, a look of wonder and awe shining in your eye. "They've got teachers to help with the powers. There's other kids that are like her. It's - it's the kind of place I would've really liked to grow up in."

That only leads him to yet another one of your many loose ends left to tie up. "Speaking of, no word from Fury?"

You take a large gulp of air. "Sorta."

"Really?" Bucky gapes.

"Well, we still have no idea where he is or how to get in touch with him. Plus, he's as cryptic as ever."

--

You sit on the dock, palms turned over in your lap, timing your breathing with the lapping waves below your feet. Sam clears his throat, "I have something for you."

Your shut eyes furrow at him, "Sam, I swear if it's another self help book-"

"Will you just look?"

You creak an eye open to see a thick, white envelope in Sam's hands, "What is that?"

"I don't know. It just showed up here, but look." You take the envelope from Sam, looking closely at the crisp white paper. On the corner, emblazoned on the envelope were the initials N.J.F.

"Do you think..?"

"I wouldn't put it past him. He was always a cryptic asshole," Sam shrugs. "I'll just give you a minute."

"No," you stop him. Though you were both at fault for Sam's absence on the day you returned to the place from before, you wanted him here for this. You wanted him here with you. You were ready to rebuild your found family once more. "Stay with me, please."

He smiles down at you, "I'll stay."

Both you and Sam wait with bated breath as you carefully tear the envelope open. On the inside resides a manila envelope with hundreds of pages neatly tucked inside.

"What is that?"

"I think it's your file," Sam replies. "I recognize it from when Fury first asked me to be your handler. It was a hell of a lot thinner back then."

"Do you know what's in it?"

"No idea. He showed me the first few pages and that's it. The rest was top secret."

You flip through pages and pages. You immediately recognize the handwriting occupying most of the pages, the handwriting of Nick Fury himself.

Pages and pages of his writings. All of them marked with his own thoughts, things he never told you, things you never knew.

'Intelligent... lacks even the most basic social skills.'

'Eager to learn. Even more eager to help.' 

'Pierce has dubbed her SHIELD's greatest asset. The antithesis to the fist of HYDRA...'

"The fist of HYDRA?" you ask.

"The Winter Solider - they called him the fist of HYDRA. Funny how that worked out."

The next line that catches your eye, you read aloud, "I fear for her. I fear she's too soft for it all. Every day, I come to the realization that she is not built for this line of work. Every day, I fear she has less and less of a choice."

There's something about that line in particular that hurts more than anything else. Nick was the one person that believed in you from the moment he met you. And even he doubted you could handle it all. "He didn't think I could handle it."

"No, he just thought you were meant for more," Sam objects.

You offer a small smile at Sam as you continue flipping to through the file. "Why do you think he sent this? Why now?"

"Look at that, on the last page," Sam points out.

"It's a note," you whisper.

"I'm still rooting for you. Even from afar." - Nicholas J. Fury.

--

"So you haven't talked to him."

"Not exactly," you admit. "He sent some old files over."

"He made contact by sending you his old junk," Bucky surmises. 

"I think it was his way of reminding me that I'm not alone, that he's still here, somewhere."

At least, that's what you believed. You believed that in his own Nick Fury way, he cared about you. In his own way, he might've seen you as a daughter as much as you saw him as a father.

And someday, you hoped you could tell him that. 

That only reminded you of yet another thing you had yet to fill Bucky in. You weren't even sure how to tell him, or if he'd look at you and think you were crazy.

In the days after coming home, you spent hours ruminating over those flashes of memories. Memories of Tony, Natasha, and Steve. A moment in the Compound that you were sure never actually happened, but felt so intimately real.

It was Steve's words reminding you that Nick Fury cared about you that made receiving that package from Nick easier.

You decided that it was real. Every part of it. Somehow. Some way. The universe had gifted you one final goodbye, one last moment with those you held so dear.

It was as real as the friendship you and Tony had despite those dark moments. It was as real as Steve's familiar scent filling your nose as he apologized for hurting you. As real as the way Natasha held you while telling you that you changed Karli's story.

You didn't know how or why, but you were gifted one last moment with each of them. And there was nothing more real than the love you would always have for your found family. 

You decide that's a story for another time. 

You smile at Sam, then at Bucky, "Things really worked out for us, didn't they?"

"It's about damn time," Bucky grunts.  

The Louisiana air fills your lungs as you look up to the sun, basking in the feeling of the warmth and sunshine bathing you. "I'll never get tired of the Sunshine."

Bucky watches you for a long moment. It was a sight to behold. Watching you stare up at the sky once more. He couldn't count how many times he'd prayed to anyone who would listen that he would get to witness that one last time.

All the times he saw you stare at the floor, bogged down by everything that tried to dim your brightness. He always wished you would stare up at the sky just one more time.

In his experience, people always looked worse in the light. People shied away from the light for fear of seeing all the cracks in the foundation, all the darkness that lurked beneath. You didn't have that problem.

And for someone like him, someone deprived of light for so long, he was glad that he could finally bask in the warmth. He was glad he finally stepped into the daylight.

As you sat before him, head thrown back, a smile planted on your face, he swears he's never seen you look more free, more at peace. He would never get tired of Sunshine either. "Me neither."

Sam gently pats your shoulder, rising from his seat, "Well, now that we're all caught up, we should head back before Sarah starts a search party."

"Why don't you go and we'll be right behind you?" Bucky sarcastically offers.

"Ha, ha," Sam stiltedly laughs, shooting Bucky a glare. "Not a chance."

"Come on, James." You extend a hand to Bucky, nudging your chin towards the house. "That way we can tell Sarah that Sam was using AJ and Cass to spy on us."

Bucky takes your hand, smirking at Sam, "That's a great idea."

"So this is how it's gonna be now? You and Bucky... and Sam?" Sam calls as you and Bucky start walking back to the house. "You guys are terrible friends!"

"Did you hear something?" you sarcastically ask Bucky.

He smirks over his shoulder. "No, not a thing."

"You guys could at least wait for me!" Sam calls as you three walk back through the house. "You know, I thought it would take longer for you two to forget about me."

"There you guys are," Sarah playfully exclaims as walk down the porch steps. "I was about to send a search party for you."

"Told you so," Sam smugly remarks.

"Would it be morally wrong to push him off the dock?" Bucky audibly wonders.

"Hmm..." You rest your hand on his arm, guiding him away from Sam and the dock, "I want to say no, but I'm leaning towards yes."

The day passes with a lightness that none of you have felt in quite some time. And while you all know that all of your problems hadn't been solved quite yet, there is no foreboding sense of doom building along the horizon. It feels right.

For the first time in a long time, you feel whole.

Sitting across from Sam, beside Bucky, gorging on food, the smell of the fresh water and the sounds of kids running around, it feels like you're finally in the right place at the right time. And perhaps most importantly, with people you could call yours.

You rest your head on Bucky's shoulder. "So what about you?"

Though he'd deny it for the rest of his life, Sam smiles at the sight of peace that flashes on Bucky's face as you curl against him.

Bucky hums thoughtfully, "Honestly, it's been quiet. Mostly therapy. I told Yuri about his son."

"How did he take it?"

"About as well as you'd expect," Bucky solemnly responds, his mouth twisting as he recalls the heartbroken look on Yuri's face when he told him about his son's death. "But he knows, he doesn't have to wonder anymore."

You lace your fingers with his, gently squeezing his hand, "I knew you would do the right thing. You always do."

You end the day sitting beside Bucky on the dock you'd spent so many days sitting and staring up at the sky wishing for this very moment. The moment that brought you back to him, finally back to him.

While flashes of the battle may always come back to you in a blur, you could also see all the light the future held for you. At last, all of you, all of him intertwined.

And in this moment in time, your little found family, you had all finally found your peace.

As the sun sets over the horizon, you rest your head on Bucky's shoulder, melted into his embrace. "Sometimes, I can't believe it."

Bucky looks down at you. "What?"

"That we survived. That we're here. Together. For a long time, I thought I'd lost you. I really thought I'd lost you."

"You couldn't lose me," he promises. He stares at you in awe as you watch the sun sink beneath the horizon. And in that moment, he knows, he's finally found his way back to you. His soul, his heart had found its rightful place in this world. And whatever the future might hold, at least he'd have you by his side. "Not then. Not now. Not ever. It's you and me."

"Ahem..." Sam clears his throat from behind where you and Bucky sit.

You sigh, rolling your eyes. "And Sam too."

"If you insist," Bucky grunts.

"It's me and you." It's more than a promise, it's an unspoken vow. A vow to always find your way back to him. A vow to reach for his hand even in times of darkness. A vow to always be his. 

You intertwine your fingers with his, squeezing his hand three times, "It's me and you."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist Inspired by Taylor Swift Series

And that's (officially) a wrap on The Twin Flame. Thank you all so much for joining me on this journey. I love you all. 💛 (Stay tuned, dear readers, I've got some extras coming your way…)

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE AVENGERS WITH AN ESCAPED READER

Bold of you to even assume that you'd be escaping from them since well... they are the Avengers. If you managed to escape them (LIKE FR HOW DA HECK DID YOU DO THAT!!?) the Avengers like Peter, Bucky and Tony and Bruce would search for you here and there and they'd break down after you escaped. Needless to say... they'll become unhinged and they won't chill till they have you back. They'd be so worried of you like what if you were lying hurt in a dark alleyway or something? What if someone tried kidnapping you? Their heart clenches and it reforms into something more... fiery and steely filled with determination to have you back. They won't let go of you that easily no matter what part of the world you went to. And if you were able to get away from them, it would take a very long time for them to find you unless you're really good at hiding and haven't left a trace of your hiding spot. And besides they might be a little delusional and they'll just think you were confused and you weren't loved enough by them and that's why you did something like that. I think they'll just be numb and miserable and broken if they can't have you back and drown or wallow in their grief, but yes like I said, they will get you back

Now as for Thor and Sam and Clint, they'll have to calm their nerves down at first and after they finish storming and raging around here and there that you've escaped they won't think of HOW you've escaped since that was already done, they prefer to focus on HOW they're gonna get you back. These people have amazing tracking skills and when it comes to Thor, he'll of course have messengers to keep him informed of your whereabouts. They'll be thinking of why you even wanted to escape them in the first place. Was their love not good enough for you? Were they making you watch too much of cartoons? Were you feeling unloved and underappreciated? You better be good at hiding and pray you have Lady Luck on your side because once these guys catch you.... say goodbye to your freedom yet again. After lots of yelling and tears of course. But if you DID manage to get escape them for good, they'll be angry, hurt and maybe feel a little guilty that they shouldn't have been so... selfish and they'll repent for their actions. They still want you back though under any cost

When it comes to Natasha, Steve, Stephen and Scott and Wanda, they'll be having an emotional range of an OCEAN with feelings of hurt, betrayal, anger, and sadness surging trough them. They'll mostly be pissed and livid or heartbroken and devastated. Either way, their feelings won't enable them to think rationally. And after they're done taking their anger out on various poor inanimate objects, they'll be trying to track you down or in Stephen and Wanda's case, use magic. I'd say Stephen or Wanda as a yandere would be really hard to hide from since they have magic and they can track you down even if you're hiding in a forest or something. As for Natasha and Steve and Scott, well... they might take a little time with their hunting you down but when they do you better hope that karma is in a good mood and the universe doesn't want to make a fool of you cuz you most certainly will NOT be spared by any of them at all. They'll punish you and maybe tie and chain you up if they have to. If you escape them for good, they'll just be feeling hella angry and pissed but like I said, they will not rest till they get you back under any cost

[daniishep]

Honestly I think that after just one watch, Halloween 3: The Guest Who Wouldn't Leave, might just be straight into my top 10 US Ghosts episodes. The sheer insanity of it all, Pete now being stuck with Carol, poor man just can't catch a break, then him 'meowing' the Jaws theme, both failed seances, Thor just wanting to tell Flower he loves her - and to ravish her, Sam and Jay just trying to have a normal party and it not working, the reveal that Flower didn't get sucked off, but is trapped in a well (can't wait to see how they get her out, may I humbly suggest a ghost chain formed of all the ghosts, just for the image that presents).

But one of my favourite moments in the episode involved these three (pictures beneath the cut)

The whole scene of them in the kitchen while Sasha and Nico freaked out and believed that Sam and Jay were going to kill them and their reactions had been laughing so much, their deliberating over whether to tell Sam, the utter nonchalance with which they saw Carol's corpse, Isaac's facial expressions while Hetty and Sass were doing their deliberating. It took me right back to the very first Halloween episode when they (with added Thor) attempted to blame Thor burning down the gazebo on the local kids. You just know they would cause so much chaos if they could get away with it and we should have more scenes with just the three of them.

[delicatebarness]

Poor Bucky, he keeps trying to stake his claim and she just keeps giving him the jacket back. Like crybaby is just….so precious. Lol.

I’m also so heartbroken for her because even thought John is a mega piece of shit, it still sucks to know that you’ve been used to hurt the people closer to you. And crybaby is just so sweet, and deserves like heart stopping love, and to feel like you’ve wasted your time and been used to hurt the ones you love is just so tough to find out.

I would also love to be a fly on the wall when Nat questions Bucky on why 1) crybaby is wearing his coat, 2) why she’s wearing his coat over her pajamas and 3) they came together? With her in her pajamas wearing his coat? Cause I feel like Nat will be the first to notice something going on for sure, if not her then Sam 100%

Bucky just can't catch a break!! He's trying, bless him!

Yeah, John really did a number on her with that one. Personally, I'd prefer someone to have punched me in the face than do that to me!

Maybe you will be a fly on the wall when at least one of the friends figures out what's happening... 👀

[bionicle-ramblings]

I know in Mask of Light Takua and Jaller had their fallout in the Onu-Koro cave and Takua backed out of his own journey and it's a very, "Oh, shit," moment, but what if they literally had this moment:

(Image description: a two "panel" image from Lord of The Rings, specifically depicting Frodo Baggins as he is rowing a boat along the river and tell Sam(who is in the "panel" below) that he is going to Mordor alone. Sam, who is walking into the river to follow, calls back, "Of course you are. And I'm coming with you!")

Like, imagine Takua still has that talk with Makuta/Teridax, and rather than leave Jaller, they continue until they have to rest for a while, which is when Takua takes the mask and tells Pewku to stay with Jaller, who is sleeping and realizes Takua's gone when Pewku keeps crying out

Luckily for them, Takua's not that far, like he’s gotten to the mountian that Jaller had gotten to after Takua ditched him, and he sees that Jaller and Pewku are not far behind, as in Pewku is racing toward him and Jaller is holding onto her for dear life

Takua still tells them both to go back so they don't get hurt or die, that the mask chose him and that if Makuta/Teridax wants it, he'll have to take Takua as well and he'd rather be alone for when that happens

Jaller is impressed his friend’s not running from responsibility anymore, but also calls him an idiot because he'll just be killed faster, being on his own. Takua argues that he doesn't want his friend hurt because of him and Jaller snaps back that the feeling is mutual, that Takua is a lot of things, but one of those things is Jaller's friend and he is not leaving his friend. Takua tells him that he's only carrying out a mission Takua tried to throw onto him and that Jaller never should have joined him, something that silences them both as much as a rock slide that shakes the unstable ground they're on.

Takua takes the opportunity to book it and go ahead, though Jaller and Pewku follow, being quick and careful, until they see Takua running to cross a bridge, like an old rickety one, and Takua shouts for Jaller to go to Ta-Wahi or the other villages because he's finding the seventh Toa alone, saying that as he walks off once more

Jaller, already walking across as carefully as he can, says that of course Takua's going alone, and Jaller's coming with whether Takua likes it or not

That's when the bridge starts to break and Jaller is left dangling, trying to pull himself up and the bridge becomes more and more precarious. Pewku, who's already made it across, is obviously panicking and unable to help, the poor girl, and Jaller shouts for help, shouts for Takua, the Toa-Nuva, even for Mata Nui/the Great Spirit because he's dangling hundreds upon hundresd of feet above ground and can't fully reach the other side of the bridge, as it is beginning to break completely

Thankfully, though, Takua saves his best friend from falling and the two make it to the other side of the bridge, shaken, storred, and alive

As they catch their breath, Jaller tells Takua that a collapsing bridge didn't stop him, so he's not going alone, and Turgaga Vakama told them he wouldn't tolerate any foolery and leaving Takua would be foolish

Unable to argue, the two hug, with Pewku joining in because she’s the best, and get up, ready to continue

[mymanyfandomramblings]

Glee-cap: Episode 4x14--I Do

I'm watching Glee for the first time, and writing recaps of my episode reactions (I'm also watching it a second time through with my sister, and I'll provide those recaps too). Here's my reaction recap for I Do

We start off strong--Finn and Rachel. Together! (Know that I am a Finchel shipper, before we go any farther)

Aaaaaand Rachel giving Finn terrible advice. Please stop.

Also, I do love Finn's 'not everything is about you'. I love Rachel, but she needed to hear that

Yesss Emma!! I love how confident she's gotten. Stressy, but a lot more confident

"I hope it's Britney again." Never change, Brittany, never change

Cory Monteith's facial expressions are perfect. Especially the 'internally screaming' one.

Emma knows exactly how to communicate with Artie. To a vaguely concerning degree.

Marley is so cute, especially with Jake. Her smile is so sweet, and I totally believe they are In Love

Jake is a sweetie too

Ryder is so level-headed, and I love him as well. Also yes, call out Puck dating a sophomore (as much as I like Puck, I don't like that subplot whatsoever)

Shoutout to the ridiculous outfit that looks like the lovechild of Kurt and Mike's fashion sense that Puck is wearing in the flashback

The bro-ship between Ryder and Jake is amazing. Ryder's acting is so bad. The tuxedos are everything

Jake and Marley's musical chemistry is *chef's kiss*

Not gonna lie, that bouquet was gorgeous

Yesss, Mercedes!! I love her!

And Sue is officially hilarious. "What, this old thing? It's an exact replica of your wedding dress."

and we're back with the random cracks about Finn's weight. The dude's insecure, and everyone needs to back off him

Aside from the aforementioned fat-shaming, every word out of Sue's mouth is gold. Not whatsoever helpful for poor Emma, but comedy gold

And Jayma Mays shows off hitherto unsuspected talents with Getting Married Today, as does Amber Riley. I haven't loved any of Emma's songs before this point but goshdarn it, Jayma knocks this out of the park.

Emma's freaking out, meanwhile Sue is just eating, and I love it.

Brad is the organist. Guy cannot catch a break.

Shout out to Becky, the world's most angry looking flower girl. Also shout-out to Kurt's reaction.

The doors open and...SUE. Gosh, I love her sometimes. And the organ crashing to a halt is hilarious.

Will and Sue's faces straight afterwards are delightful

Brittany mouthing that Sue 'looks so good' as she walks down the aisle at someone else's wedding. Never change, Brittany.

Jane Lynch hit comedy out of the ballpark in this episode. Everything Sue does here is hilarious

Finn now has himself in deep trouble

I am, at my heart, a Samcedes shipper, but I can't lie, he and Britts are pretty cute

Marley looks so pretty in that darkish pink.

I am vaguely frustrated that my hunch that Ryder has been having all of Jake's ideas all this time was correct, but I do still appreciate that they're bros, rather than, you know, fighting.

Jake and Ryder: Most Reasonable Dudes in the Glee-verse

Kurt's dance moves always make me laugh. I also love that Blaine looks so intense while he sings, and meanwhile Kurt's shimmying around and making Big facial expressions

Yes, Artie!!! For all his faults, Artie is really good at standing up for himself (no pun intended)

Sam and Brittany are so unhinged together /affectionate

Lots of people find Tina OOC in S4, but ever since The Power Of Madonna she's been given to occasional outbursts where she never gives her outburstee enough context to know what they've done

The comic timing on 'Did you vapo-rape my ex-boyfriend' is so perfect.

Did my eyes deceive me, or was Sam also lining up to catch the bouquet too?

Finn is my favourite character but occasionally he takes this particular tone with Rachel, and I Don't Like It

Whoa, Finn gets poetic and metaphorical. Guess being a teacher did make him smarter

Rachel missing the point is always hilarious.

I love Finn, and I love Finchel, but he's being just a tad presumptuous and condescending here, and I wish he'd express these same sentiments in a different way

Okay, what's with almost every couple heading upstairs. I kind of hoped that Marley would set some boundaries for Jake to respect (I mean, I'm not saying she has to, I'm saying that it would have been nice to see what would actually have happened if Ryder had been right, and how Jake would respond)

And that's how you know that I'm writing this as I watch, because I got what I wanted. Jake is so chill about it, even after getting his hopes up, and I'm glad he's not letting Marley apologise

Ah the glorious love between Brody and Rachel where they're constantly lying and being unfaithful. Love it /heavy sarcasm

Tina's dress is so cute

RYDER! You have been being so great the last few episodes now you ruin it!!

Artie's French accent is so cute

Their final song is really good, even if the dancing makes them all look completely insane

I also appreciate that their final-episode songs are starting to look a lot more low-budget and like real school performances than they used to

It's way too soon for Rachel to actually know if she's pregnant--unless there was supposed to be a timelapse in that song, but okay then.

[prettyflyshyguy]

Hi, me again. Was laughing about the lego minifig lumberjack that suspiciously is wearing the same outfit as the lego minifig werewolf and it resulted in me having the most unhinged thoughts about Supernatural. Again.

Once again my brain is overcompensating for how badly I enjoyed S1-3 and how little I enjoyed season 4 onwards.

Now I have gone on record as being someone who generally prefers the non-comedy episodes of the early seasons (HOWEVER a good comedy episode goes a long way in a dark and gritty series as a refreshing break. I love a sensible chuckle. Look at me.) but hear me out. But for your consideration:

You know the drill. Small town, missing people or animal attack reports, maybe both. Shady shit going on. They're not sure if it's worth the time but they were nearby, or Bobby reckoned it was worth checking out so they swing through town, figure they'll stay a few nights. The place is pretty, out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods. Picturesque and the people are nice. Maybe they could relax a few days while also sussing it out.

They can't immediately determine the cause, which is strange. There's always signs that they can equate to being this or that and "dad's journal" always has an answer. Almost always.

One of them goes out for a late night wander (probably Dean, look I'm predictable, but also it feels fitting - Sam got the demon blood ok) and gets attacked by something in the forest, and returns with a really weird bite mark that looks somewhere between canine and human. There's a bit of panic, yknow "What did it look like?" - "It looked like a werewolf! No not like, a werewolf, like a movie werewolf!"

And they're both freaked because there's a handful of horrible fucked up things that could be, and for most of them a bite is just a normal physical injury and the worst thing he'd have to worry about is rabies - but they test press a silver knife to his skin and.... Nothing. They try a few other on-hand items if they have them, probably some herbs and dried flowers, nothing. So they assume the bite's just. An animal bite.

Fast forward after one very tense day of research and uncomfortable vibes, and the sun goes down. And that's when things go to shit. It's not a full moon, which catches them off guard. Dean starts convulsing and twitching on the motel room floor and Sam is fucking panicking, searching for one of those curse-bag's that witches hide when they want to kill you. Dean has one nasty, gritty, panful transformation into something absolutely horrifying - going for my personal favorite - vaguely resembles human but very much weird wolf-man freak. He keeps his clothes but probably tears them up a bit as he's writhing about in pain. Sam is in shock, holding a machete out in defense trying to gauge the situation, Dean comes to and is just looking around in terror and confusion.

Probably have a stare-off before Sam just goes "... Dean???" and the poor guy cannot talk, can only make horrible throat noises, stumbles into the bathroom to get a look in the mirror and probably freaks out bad. Either bolts out the window in a panic, or bolts out the window cause he heard someone knock on the door hearing the noise of it all.

It's like the wishing well - so its some weird curse or local effect that's making a legend with its own rules become real - werewolves transform each night when the sun sets. There's something about racing against the literal setting sun that tickles me, and the added impact of it being something that requires management and mitigation each day is really fun.

So they have a shitty little time in this weird ass town trying to figure out; what's going on, how do we stop it, and arguing over if they call Bobby and tell him what happened or not.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 16 – DARK FIC

SERIES: Anxious Jitters by Naivelittleprincess

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Bucky/Tony, Steve/Bucky Rating: T Words: 6,517 Tags: Horror, Canon Divergence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Summary: Scary, angsty, unrelated one-shot stories with unhappy endings. This is me coping with my bad days.

Reasons why I love it: This series is like a collection of little, bloody gems. They're creepy and horrifying and all the things I love about dark fic, combining some really cool concepts with heartwrenching terror. In short, this series is amazing, and I really hope you check it out. All the fics can be read on their own, so I'm sure there's something for everybody!

This series consists of:

Eater of Hearts

Pairing: OFC/Tony Rating: G Words: 1,102 Tags: Steve Rogers Feels, Obsessive Behavior, Unhappy Ending

Summary: There's a girl—a new girl who looks like a porcelain doll and has a smile that's too sweet. Steve doesn't like her. He doesn't like her one bit.

Reasons why I love it: Oooh, this one's so creepy! The plot twist sends chills down my spine, holy shit, it's so good. And those last few lines? Jesus Christ. This fic is amazing, and I highly encourage you to check it out!

Heavy in Your Arms

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Pepper/Tony, Wanda/Vision, Bucky/Sam Rating: G Words: 717 Tags: Endgame, Fix-It of Sorts, Infinity Gauntlet

Summary: "Steve, what are you doing?" "Fixing this."(Or Where Steve changes the world. And everybody has a role to play.)

Reasons why I love it: Jesus Christ, the implications of this are horrifying! And that "happy" ending, oh my god, I just want to grab Tony, Nat and Vis and get them the hell out of there. I love this one, and if you're into twisted shit, I bet you will too!

What an Expensive Fate

Pairing: Bucky/Tony, Steve/Bucky Rating: G Words: 1,557 Tags: Dark Bucky, Jealous Steve, Winter Soldier

Summary: "I can't hurt him, Stevie. You know that. But, I gotta hurt someone. Who better to dish it out on than you?"

Reasons why I love it: Oooffff, poor Steve, the guy just can't catch a break. I love dark Bucky, and this one is DARK, holy shit. It's so good. Please give this one a shot if you like messed up Winter Soldier stuff!

The Clock Strikes Out

Pairing: Tony & Avengers Team Rating: T Words: 1,719 Tags: Murder, Manipulation, Revenge

Summary: "Tick tock, Mister Stark." "Time's running out." "I need a name." He blinks and shakes his head. Looks around, tries to see the outlines of his team through the dark spots dancing across his vision. A shock of red hair. A flash of a silver. A blink of blue and red. Something, someone is dragged to a corner by the hair and he thinks it could be Barton. "A name, Mister Stark. Just one."

Reasons why I love it: I couldn't tell where this one was going at all, so the reveal at the end hit me hard. It's so good, holy fuck, I love this one. Definitely give it a read!

My Town Was A Wasteland

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 1,422 Tags: Vampires, Rituals, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting

Summary: Howard wants to raise the dead. Even if it's at the expense of his own son. It backfires spectacularly.

Reasons why I love it: As gruesome as it is, the imagery in this fic is really beautiful. I love the juxtaposition of the bloody ritual with flowers and sunlight. And the note at the end made me really happy. This fic is fantastic, and I hope you check it out for yourself!

[rootingfordorks]

The team had been on a week-long roadie and a losing streak. Morale had gotten so low that the players had only sung along to one song while watching Moana at movie night that evening. One!

(And it was "Where You Are," the first song in the movie!)

"I think we're really losing some kinda steam, you know? I dunno if it's the yips again, or somethin' else, but we can't keep playing like this," Ted lamented as he changed for bed. "Heck! At this point I'd dance buck nekkid in front of Buckingham Palace if it would get us a tie! It's like we're cursed or something, like that time back in Wichita with Tommy Grazie. Poor kid stopped being able to catch a ball, had to get some witch in to remove the curse--"

"Possession, Coach," Beard corrected him through the open bathroom door, toothbrush still in hand. His voice was thick around the toothpaste foam, which speckled the hairs of his beard. Ted gave him a tired, fond smile.

"Right, possession," he agreed, nodding. "You think we should get a priest out to the clubhouse when we get back?" He paused, thinking of other options. "Have some sorta event? We haven't had a karaoke night in months, Coach."

Beard finished in the bathroom, drying his face on a towel as he shook his head at Ted. Ted, who'd had first dibs at the bathroom, was propped up against the headboard but already under the covers. Beard flicked the bathroom lightswitch and came around to his side of the bed.

"It's a tougher level of play," he reminded Ted as he crawled under the covers. To tired to sit anymore, he lay on his side and looked up at Ted. "We knew it would be a hard adjustment, especially without Sam and with five new players. It's demanding work, Coach."

Ted stared into his eyes silently. He appreciated his partner's candor, as always, but it wasn't helping with the general greyness that had settled over him. Beard wordlessly patted the bed in front of him, and Ted lay down beside him. They wrapped arms over waists and tangled their legs together. Ted leaned forward for a kiss, soft and warm and familiar.

"I guess I'm not just blue about the game," Ted admitted softly. "I miss Trent." Beard leaned back just far enough to make eye contact more comfortable.

"I know, Coach. I miss him too."

Ted sighed. Beard traced his eyebrows with a fingertip, then his mustache. He cupped the side of Ted's head gently, thumb resting alongside his cheek.

"Do you miss me when I'm with him?" Ted asked, breaking eye contact as his voice wobbled. Beard inhaled sharply.

"Sweetheart," he said, voice gentle and sad. It was an endearment he used sparingly, but a favorite of Ted's. "Coach. Teddy baby. I don't miss him when I'm with you for a night or two! This is - it's been a week since we've even seen him. It's not the same as when one of us spends a few nights over at his place." Beard's voice was firm. He searched Ted's face to see how he was reacting and saw the worry slowly drain from his expression. He continued, "I missed you like whoa when you were in Kansas over the summer. We both did."

"Right." Ted nodded. He chuckled at himself a bit. "Yeah, of course. I'm just really emotional right now. I don't usually think... you know." He trailed off, hoping Beard would understand him as well as usual.

"You don't think I love him more?" Beard's voice was neutral, inviting Ted to share whatever he was feeling. His words confirmed that he had love enough to share with both his partners.

"Of course not, Coach," Ted said. The word had been a term of endearment between them for decades now, but since they'd started dating it had acquired new layers. Especially behind closed doors, it was wrapped in love.

Beard stared for another moment, nodded, and snuggled in close to Ted again. Noses touching, he stretched his lips forward for a silly kiss. Ted met him halfway, like always.

"When we're back," Beard began, "when you're less generally sad, think about whether you still feel like this."

Ted nodded.

"You have to tell me if you do," Beard said. Ted pulled him closer, running one hand up and down his back.

"I will," Ted promised. "That is, I'll tell you if I'm feeling insecure or unsure or anything. But I reckon I won't be feeling any of that. I trust you. Both of you."

Beard kissed him, a press of lips that Ted knew he'd never tire of. They were too tired for anything energetic, but took pleasure in kissing.

A electronic tune rang, interrupting them. Beard turned over, reaching for his phone, and smiled when he saw the name on the screen. He showed Ted, who laughed.

"I can't believe you've got Trent in your phone as 'Good old-fashioned lover boy'," Ted was saying as Beard answered the video call. They snuggled together so they'd both be in frame. Trent was also in bed, hair tousled and sleep shirt baggy. His smile was warm, even though his eyes were tired.

"Ask him what you're saved as," Trent said. He drank in the sight of his boys. Ted's hair was dramatically messy, like he'd been pulling it out of shape, and Beard's short hair and beard were grown out a bit, kind of scraggly. Both men looked wrung-out--eyes puffy, wrinkles deepened, lips bitten and chapped. They were still incredibly handsome, and (more importantly) looked like home.

"What am I saved as in your phone, Coach?" Ted asked lightly. Beard noticed the uptick in his mood, of course, and kissed him briefly. This earned him fond smiles from both his boyfriends. Ted's eyes flicked to Trent on the phonescreen, sharing a look of affection.

"Currently?" Beard paused dramatically. "Hunka hunka burning love."

Trent snorted. Ted laughed and covered his eyes briefly with one hand.

"I'm glad you called, love," Beard told Trent. Ted nodded, still smiling.

"We miss you a ton, baby" Ted said.

"I miss you both, so much, my darlings," Trent said. "I. I just wanted to see your faces tonight."

"How's the week been going with Miz Skywalker?" Ted asked. The nickname was a running gag -- like her father, the youngest Crimm loved a bit.

"Pretty good," Trent said unconvincingly. He winced at his own tone. "I mean, it's been good, we've had fun. She misses both of you, too, especially when we go to the park and there's only one of me to boss around." He ran a hand through his hair, brushing it to one side. "It's... I haven't had to single parent more than a few days in a row in months. It's a lot of work. You two have spoiled me."

Ted beamed.

"Nothing less than you deserve," Beard said with a smile. Trent looked sheepish but accepted the compliment.

"Plus," added Ted, "you know we both adore Leah. Henry does, too. Far as I'm concerned, the more time we spend all up in each others' lives, the better." Beard pointed at him in wordless agreement.

"But her week with her mom still starts tomorrow, right?" Beard asked. Trent nodded.

"And Henry and Dottie aren't coming back to London early?" Trent asked eagerly. Ted and Beard both shook their heads.

"We'll have the house to ourselves for a coupla days," Ted said. He wagged his eyebrows comically, earning a chuckle from Trent and a smile/eyeroll combo from Beard.

"I'll be there when you get in. Love you both." They said their goodnights and hung up. Ted snuggled up to Beard, spirits lifted, and they fell into a restful sleep with the promise of a happy reunion tomorrow.

[ltbarnes]

Resurrection Chapter 3

Summary: Bucky Barnes was only nineteen when the lives of his parents and little sister were taken right in front of him by the ruthless members of the Odinson mob. His father’s mistakes have turned Bucky into a vengeful and cold shell of the charming boy he once was, now deeply rooted in the criminal lifestyle of the Stark mafia. Sudden attacks ignite the conflict between the two forces of the city, refueling the rivalry that has been rather tame for years. Nine years since Bucky’s life fell apart, he finds it shattering once more when what was supposed to be long dead returns to the living.

Pairing: brother!mafia!Bucky Barnes x adopted!sister!reader, mafia!Thor Odinson x reader, mafia!Loki Odinson x reader, eventual Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: just angst and some weapons, bucky being the most concerned big brother, sad bucky, breaking and entering??

A/N: things are starting to happen in this chapter 👀 poor Bucky the things I’m putting him through

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

•  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  • 

The weathered metal doors rustle as they enter, one after another, in expensive suits and well pressed shirts, black cargo pants and stealthy jackets. Guns in their pockets and knives strapped to their legs.

The Odinson brothers are different from one another. Thor is the eldest, blonde and long haired and loud. He's as large in his build as in his language. People call him "God of Thunder" simply because of the sheer strength he beholds. All the while, Loki is the dark sheep of the family. Sly, sinister, mischievous. Rumors of week-long torture of traitors and captives from the raven haired Odinson has circled around for years. He's more of a snob, if Bucky had a say in it, because each time he's seen Loki there's been a costum made designer suit on his limbs and this ridiculous cane in his hand.

Bucky, Natasha, T'Challa and Sam sit hidden on the balcony of the abandoned factory with a good enough view while remaining unseen. There's of course seven guns between the four of them and a ridiculous amount of various weapons hidden in their clothes, despite Stark's orders. If they do their job right, they won't have to use them, but damn it if they aren't prepared.

He counts to fifteen people on the floor. Some he recognizes, some he has never seen in his life. Thor sits down all wide-legged and laughing, twirling one of his rings on his finger. Even from Bucky's distance, he can see the empty spot on his right hand where that ring he dropped used to sit.

"Do you hear what they're saying?" Sam asks after nearly half an hour of waiting and five minutes of watching them down below.

And the truth is that Bucky doesn't, and neither is the two others. They just see their lips moving and the boisterous and obnoxious laughter squeezed in between conversation. It sounds like they're merely meeting up as a large group of friends rather than plan their next attack to ruin the Stark empire. Or maybe they're just celebrating. An important pillar in their nemesis's business did just get burnt down.

"Let us move closer," T'Challa whispers, nodding towards the right where the balcony frames the entire building.

The group silently stand themselves up from their hiding spot, sights set on the other side of the factory, when the entrance door is opened once more.

A tall and bulky man, with dark skin and arms as broad as Bucky's legs, steps inside. Behind the man, Bucky catches just a glimpse of blue fabric flowing as they move towards the middle of the room where the rest resides.

And then that thing, that moment, he never thought would come did. It's happening, right in front of his eyes. Not a nightmare, not a flashback. Not the image of the bullet piercing your flesh, not your ten-year old watery eyes staring up at him.

Bucky can't breathe. He can't get any air into his lungs because Thor Odinson rises from his seat and lays his hands on you as you come closer, stands in front of you with his fingers splayed out over your shoulders. And you're crying. Tense, rigid in his hold. You're so visibly uncomfortable that Bucky almost sprints forward to get you out of here.

A bead of sweat drips into Bucky's eyes but he barely reacts to the sting. His chest rises up and down but he doesn't give a second thought to it. Everyone else does, but not him. No, his eyes are stuck on your lips forming words, saying something to the man responsible for your mother's death. For your death. Because you died—you died right in front of Bucky's eyes.

And he's not sure if it is you standing there. It's been 9 years and you were just a kid back then. A little girl running around after him and Steve. Cuddling up to his side when you couldn't sleep. Unsuccessfully stealing the drawings Steve would "hide" for you around your house. Bleeding out on the street right in front of it.

But he sees it, even though he'd almost forgotten it was there—that scar on your hand, still pink even after 14 years. Bucky will never forget it really, because his ma had never been as angry with him as that day. He pushed your swing too hard and you flew off, cutting the back of your hand up on a sharp rock. A crooked line formed after the trail of stitches that runs along your skin and there's no doubt about it anymore.

Now, at what must be 19, you are more beautiful than Bucky could have ever imagined you would turn out to be. He's been drawing up images in his mind of what you'd grow up as. None of them were right.

You're wearing a dress, a real cutesy one like your ma used to force you to wear even though you hated them. Wanted to wear pants just like Bucky and Steve. But now—now it looks like that dress was made to flow along your knees. Maybe it was. Your hair is longer. There's earrings sparkling underneath somewhere. Most of all, you're taller. God, you're so big.

A sniffle escapes his mouth as he chokes on his tears. Bucky never thought he'd see you like this. He knew, but couldn't quite accept, that seeing you all grown up was something he would never get to experience. He would never watch you graduate, never help you study for a hard test, never scare the crap out of whoever had the nerve to date you, never console you after your first heartbreak. Bucky was robbed of all those things that day nine years ago, when he saw you die. But you're not dead.

"Bucky? Bucky, for god's sake! Answer me!"

The dull ringing in his ears disappears with a soft crackling sound, slowly letting Sam's voice grow louder, clearer, until he can hear the words perfectly. A frantic Sam stands in front of him, shaking his shoulders with an equally worried T'Challa and Nat beside him.

Bucky blinks, flickering his gaze down to the trio in front of him before wiping underneath his nose.

"You fucking scared us, man. What are you doing?" Sam continues, shaking his head. His voice is still operating in a harsh whisper, because despite how occupied they've been for the past two minutes they are still on Odinson land. If they're caught, bullets will be raining after them more rapidly than during a September storm.

Bucky doesn't say anything. His eyes move back and forth, between you and Thor and the men around you and Sam in front of him. You're sat down now, bent over in half with your head in your hands. The dark-skinned man stands right behind your chair, glancing down every other second. Bucky can't decipher what his intentions are.

"Who is that girl, Bucky?" Nat whispers sternly, interrupting Sam's hasty plead, because she noticed right away who the source of Bucky's distraught was. "Who is she?"

He takes in a shaky breath and lets out an equally unsteady one before running the palm of his hand over his mouth. What is he supposed to say? How can he possibly find words that justify what is happening in front of his eyes?

Bucky has to sit down. He slowly comes down to a crouch, head leaning in his hands while trying to furiously blink away the haze. But when he glances up again and dries away the tears, you're still there a hundred feet away.

His three companions have now started to become nervous, gazes flickering back and forth from the scene below them while trying to figure out Bucky's reaction. This display of emotion—tears—is something he has never even gotten close to showing in their company. James Barnes is a stoic, cold and clinical person with a rough hand and big heart. But that big heart has never resulted in actually showing his emotions, even if it's happiness. He hasn't had a lot of that though.

And then he laughs. Bucky lets out a teary chuckle, showcasing the rarest of smiles while lifting his head up. His cheeks are red and blotchy and wet, eyes equally so, as he shakes his head to himself.

"Fuck..." is all he can think to say.

"Now you listen to me, Robocop," Sam seethes. "If you don't tell us what the hell has gotten into you, I swear I will—"

"My baby sister," Bucky chokes out. "That's my—that girl right there is my sister."

The end to the sentence Sam was about to deliver dies on his tongue, instead transforming into new words and questions with Bucky's impossible revelation.

"What? The dead one? But she's dead. Shot. A long time ago. You saw her," Sam rambles, doing that same back and forth with his eyes as Bucky did a minute ago.

"Are you serious?" Nat whispers, lacking that usual edge to her voice. There's just a frown on her face now, a soft one, as she looks down at her crouching friend. "Is that really Y/n?"

Bucky nods, wiping away the tears and snot from underneath his nose with the back of his hand. He comes up to a stand again, not daring to take his eyes off of you. If he does not have you in his sight you will be taken away from him again.

Without saying another word, he brings his gun forward and loads it. The relief he felt turns into anger, a painfully deep hatred for the men who took his family away all those years ago. Who has kept his little sister hostage ever since. God knows what they have done to you—an innocent child—during these nine years. If anyone laid a hand on you he will burn this warehouse down to the ground with everyone in it. Nine years. Half of your childhood gone to a cruel and heartless family.

His steps are already heading towards the metal staircase when a rough hand clasps around his arm, dragging him back with a hiss.

"No," T'Challa says as loudly as he can without attracting any attention from the people a floor below. "Barnes, I know it's painful. I know you want to kill every single one of them right now. But you can't."

Bucky snarls, trying to tear himself away but a quick Natasha comes to stand in front of him while Sam helps T'Challa keep him in place.

"They have my sister. If you think for a fucking second I will—"

"Bucky," Nat says softly. "We will get her back as soon as it's safe. Now is not that time. We have no backup."

He gulps, clenching his jaw tightly enough to shatter his teeth while looking away. He can't watch her as she tells him to stand back.

"She's alive and well, has been so for nine years. What is there to say they would get rid of her just now? We have time."

More tears spring to his eyes just like that—as if he hasn't been suppressing them for a decade. As if crying is something he does each day in front of his team. But he doesn't care anymore when you are alive. You're a hundred feet away and he can't hold you.

"I can't—she's right there. I thought she was dead for nine years."

"I know, Bucky. I know," she says, taking a step closer while glancing down at you once more. "We will get her back, I promise. So soon."

"She doesn't want to be here. She's crying. I have to save her." Bucky's voice breaks as he speaks, reduced to a weak version of himself in contrary to the determination he had a few minutes ago.

"Buck, we need backup. We are not saying she'll be left with these people, just that we can't save her now," Sam adds in a whisper. He's not used to seeing Bucky this dissociated and frantic. "We can't just barge in. We'll all die then and your sister won't have anyone left."

The increased volume of the voices as they came closer has escaped him until now, when he looks down again while drying off his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. And then he nods, reluctantly and with so much anger inside of him that he might just burst, but accepting that this is the way it is. It won't be long until he has you back in his life again. He will find you.

"Tonight. Or tomorrow. We have to go back as soon as..." Bucky leans into the palm of his hand, shaking his head.

"Why don't you and I go back to the car, alright?" Nat says, putting her hand on his back. "Sam and T'Challa can very well listen with their ears while we take a breather."

"Okay," Bucky whispers under his breath, trying to swallow down the decade-long grief. He agrees even though he wants nothing less.

What he wants is to just look at you for a while longer. He just got you back and now he has to leave again, despite the assurances of the leave just being temporary.

Bucky nods and agrees to sit in the car beside Natasha even though what he so desperately wants is for Steve to sit there beside him and tell him that the young girl is in fact his sister, and that he's not become delusional from his grief. He wants to Steve to hold him and let him cry on his shoulder and tell him that "yes, life has been unfair, but it's all going to be okay now."

But instead he sits in silence in the passenger seat on the uncomfortable surface of leather outside the house of an enemy, attempting to stare through the walls of the abandoned factory. At the large group holding you hostage while his colleagues complete the job they came here to do.

How does one process the return of the dead? And how does one process the fact that the dead was never really dead and had instead been held captive by the enemy since she was ten years old? That all this time was wasted on mourning and feeling sorry for himself when you undoubtedly suffered a much worse fate than he ever did?

Inside of the walls sits a sister he has spent nine years seeking revenge for, channeling every ounce of hurt and grief into the violence just so he could forget what was taken from him. And you're just sitting there, existing, arms wrapped around yourself in a flowery dress in front of the people he thought killed you.

James Buchanan Barnes was 28 years old when his life shattered a second time. And just as old when it simultaneously came back together.

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CHAPTER 4