#river ratatouille rambles

[questionableratatouille00]

ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟʟ

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an effort to get the two of you to bond, Tony Stark sends you and the ex-assassin Bucky Barnes on a road trip together. The reason? You hate each other. The situation? Two weeks in a car together. The reward: three days of a resort vacation. And the problem? He's kinda cute.

Warnings (Entire Series): Enemies-to-lovers, cursing, sexual tension, angst, fluff, crying, fighting, violence, chaos, mentions/talk of trauma, discussions of mental health, and potentially more.

Warnings: Enemies-to-lovers, sexual tension, cursing, arguments.

[Series Masterlist]

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝑨𝒊𝒏’𝒕 𝑩𝒊𝒈 𝑬𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝑼𝒔

“It’s just two weeks, Buck. You’ll be fine.” Steve attempts to reassure his best friend, though it doesn’t seem to be working. “She’s really not as bad as you make her out to be.”

Bucky says nothing, rolling his eyes instead. "This whole idea is a waste of time. I'm not going." He grumbled. Stark had the grand idea to send the most incompatible people in the entire Avenger's Compound on a fucking road trip.

"You have to go. Tony said it's non-negotiable. I'm sure she doesn't like the idea either, but there's nothing we can do about it. Just...try and make the best of it." Steve offered, tipping his head and shrugging hesitantly.

"That's easy for you to say. You don't have to actually go." Bucky grumbled, stuffing more things into a suitcase. Steve was supposed to be helping, but he was really just there to try and convince Bucky that this was for the greater good, or whatever. Something like that.

This was going to be an insufferably long two weeks.

"Two weeks and three days. Three days of actual vacation! This is the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard. Nat, you gotta get me out of this." You pleaded with the Avenger.

"Already tried. Tony won't budge." She gave an apologetic shrug. "Maybe you'll find out you share a lot of common interests."

"Right, because me and the ninety-nine year-old man are basically twinsies. Thanks, Nat."

"Maybe you'll just decide to fuck halfway-through." Yelena interrupts. "Like, full-on go at each other. The tension is very strong. Very strong." Her accent is thick as she digs through your closet.

"She's right, I've read too many romance novels to know how this turns out." Kate agrees, judging your shoe collection.

"What? Ew--God, no. That's...so fucking disgusting to think about." You shudder. "He's a total asshole."

"He's not so bad." Yelena shrugged. "Helped take down the Red Room. Good enough for me."

"He can't be that bad, right? I haven't really talked with the guy, but he seems chill." Kate ponders.

"What they mean to say is that it will be fine." Nat attempts to assure you, spinning you by the shoulders to face her.

"I hate him and I hate everything about it." You rage quietly as Yelena stuffs shampoo and conditioner into your suitcase. You were packing one suitcase and one backpack. Yelena, Kate, and Natasha were supposed to be helping, but they were really just goofing off and occasionally helping you grab something.

"The trip isn't even worth it, anyway. One week of driving to get there, three days of the actual resort, and then a week back. It doesn't make any sense." You tried to reason.

"The whole point of the trip is to get you two to bond. Or at least to not bicker and argue over the comms during missions." Nat rationalized. "It'll not only be good for you two, but for the team as a whole."

You thought for a moment, considering it. You could agree that the idea made sense, but still. He was a dick to you most of the time, so what was the point?

"Fine." You said. "But if he starts shit, I'm not going to let him walk all over me."

Sighing, Natasha nodded.

"If he pisses you off, just kill him--very easy. You know how to do it." Yelena stated ever so casually.

"Yelena!" Kate and Natasha exclaimed at the same time.

You scowled as you loaded your suitcase and backpack into the backseat of the truck. You even made sure all of your stuff was directly behind the driver's seat. Your seat. You were going to drive.

Bucky Barnes, seemingly getting the message, put his singular suitcase behind the passenger side.

Tony and Steve stood outside the huge garage, watching as the two of you loaded up the truck. Tony had bought the truck a while ago, but he never really ended up driving it often. He thought it would be perfect for this trip.

"Don't die, if you sleep in the car make sure to lock the doors, get a motel when you can, stay safe and have fun, blah blah blah, don't crash my truck." Tony told the two of you. Steve gave him the Eyebrows of Disappointment before turning back to you.

"Please don't kill each other. Stay in a motel or something when you can." Steve quickly hugged Bucky goodbye, stepping inside, and you turned to walk to the driver's side.

"What're you doing?" Bucky asked from behind you.

"Getting in the car?" You snarked back. The way he had asked his question annoyed you.

"I'm driving." He declared.

"No you're not. I am. You watched me put my stuff behind the seat--my seat!"

"I am driving the damn car. Move."

"No you are fucking not. Get your ancient ass to the passenger seat." You growl.

"Your driving is shit. Move out of the way before I make you." He says, sharp blue eyes glaring straight into yours.

"What're you gonna do? Throw me?"

Without saying a word, he put both of his hands on your biceps, squeezing lightly, before slightly picking you up and moving you to the side. He did it so easily, too. Most likely due to the serum, along with the vibranium arm. You felt the rage seeping into your body, and just before you could throw a punch, Tony called out from the door inside the garage. "Take turns, losers! Jesus Christ."

You both look at him as he says this, before looking back at each other. Shoving him out of the way, you open the truck door. He sticks up both of his middle fingers as he walks around the back of the truck. As you buckle your seatbelt, you consider just backing up the truck as he walked behind it. He wouldn't die. He probably wouldn't even fall over. It could be a total accident. A little oopsie, if you will.

Just before you could ponder the potential attempted murder, Bucky opened the passenger door, hopping into the truck. You plug your phone into the truck, putting on your favorite playlist. The one Bucky hated. It was a very personal 'fuck you' to the Super Soldier sitting next to you. He looked like he wanted to make some kind of comment, but he didn't.

Pulling out of the huge driveway, you knew one thing for sure.

This was going to be a long two weeks.

Day One

A/n: This has been in the works for a while. And while the anniversary has technically passed, I do feel like rebooting this because it’s very dear in my heart. I kept most of the text the same for this chapter with a few minor edits.

Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @laughterafter @cjand10 @kandis-mom @emmsybucky@mrsnotfeelingsogood @matchat3a @identity2212 @ilovemcuff @unaxv

note that this is the only series I’ll be doing a taglist for, but let me know in the comments if you’d like to join!

Reblog if you enjoyed!

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[questionableratatouille00]

ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟʟ

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: In an effort to get the two of you to bond, Tony Stark sends you and the ex-assassin Bucky Barnes on a road trip together. The reason? You hate each other. The situation? Two weeks in a car together. The reward: three days of a resort vacation. And the problem? He's kinda cute.

Warnings and Tags: Enemies-to-lovers, cursing, sexual tension, angst, fluff, crying, fighting, violence, chaos, mentions/talk of trauma, discussions of mental health, and potentially more.

[Series Pinterest Board] [Series Playlist]

One: 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝑨𝒊𝒏’𝒕 𝑩𝒊𝒈 𝑬𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝑼𝒔

Two: 𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔

Three: 𝑫𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑴𝒆 𝑪𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚

dividers by @saradika-graphics, banner by me!

[questionableratatouille00]

ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟʟ 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an effort to get the two of you to bond, Tony Stark sends you and the ex-assassin Bucky Barnes on a road trip together. The reason? You hate each other. The situation? Two weeks in a car together. The reward: three days of a resort vacation. And the problem? He's kinda cute.

Warnings (Entire Series): Enemies-to-lovers, cursing, sexual tension, angst, fluff, crying, fighting, violence, chaos, mentions/talk of trauma, discussions of mental health, and potentially more.

Warnings: Enemies-to-lovers, sexual tension, cursing, arguments.

[Series Masterlist]

𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔

Day One

The drive was a tense silence. You had the route Tony sent you on your phone, and you had your phone plugged into the car, the GPS displayed on the screen.

It had been two hours. Two hours of your playlist playing through the speakers. Bucky said nothing, watching through the windshield.

The truck Tony had loaned you was a fossil of a vehicle, and for a man who could buy the solar system, you were a little confused about his choice of automobiles.

Nevertheless, the silence was suffocating.

And then Bucky spoke up.

“Where are we going?” His voice was rough, demanding. Bitch.

“Looks like we’re heading to West Virginia.” You said, glancing at the map. “Probably have to stop at the little town up here.” Looking away from the road, you used two fingers to scroll up on the map.

Brandon Briar, it read in a fuchsia font. It had to be some tiny town nobody’s ever heard of.

You were sure that there would be a motel or something, considering it wasn’t anywhere special but on the road to everywhere special.

Britney Spears blasted through the speakers as you turned it up. You were so happy you brought an aux cord.

You could physically feel Bucky’s annoyance sizzling beside you.

“What, you don’t like Britney?” You snorted.

“I prefer ‘40s music, so.” He grunted gruffly.

“Bro.” You scoffed, shaking your head. You turned it up, singing along to it.

He grumbled, shutting his eyes tight as if he was going to manifest the speakers catching fire.

Soon, you feel the telltale signs of hunger as your stomach begins to turn into an angry deity. You look at the signs posted on the sides of the road—there were the simple options of fast food restaurants.

“Do you wanna stop for food?” You turned the music down just enough so that you could ask.

He nodded slowly.

“Cool.” You said, ready to decide on a place.

Thanking the lady at the window, you took the bag from her hands and passed it to Bucky. He pulled out the food, setting your stuff in the center console. You ate as you drove, following the directions from the GPS.

Tony hadn’t given you any planned stops—but there was a marked route on the GPS.

You were getting tired now, and it was getting a bit late. You were about eight hours before you’d reach that town, and you could tell that Bucky was tired too.

You powered through another hour, and by then it was dark and the only way to illuminate the roads was through your headlights.

“Fuck it, I can’t do this anymore.” You groaned, finding a small trail off the side of the road to pull into.

“What are you doing?” Bucky grumbled.

“Parking us. Relax, nobody’s gonna find us. You can get in the backseat if you want, but I’m going to bed.” You huffed, unbuckling your seatbelt.

You snuggled yourself up comfortably, grabbing your blanket from the backseat.

Bucky grabbed his own, and you fell asleep, making sure to lock the doors of the truck.

A/n: chapter two! A little bit of filler to get us started. If you like this, feel free to check out my other works! Please leave a reblog if you enjoyed!

Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @laughterafter @cjand10 @kandis-mom @emmsybucky @mrsnotfeelingsogood @matchat3a @identity2212 @ilovemcuff @unaxv @mysticalfuncollectorus @highwaytomichelle @lilbloggs @ordelixx @skiemi-blog

note that this is the only series I’ll be doing a taglist for, but let me know in the comments if you’d like to join!

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[questionableratatouille00]

𝘿𝙞𝙚, 𝘿𝙞𝙚 (𝙒𝙚 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙋𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝘼𝙬𝙖𝙮)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x immortal!reader

Summary: You struggle to come to terms with what your future will mean with Bucky. (I started with a goofy thing going on and then I got poetic. 🤷)

Warnings: death, talks of death, talks of old age, grief, crying, general sorrow. Happy Halloween?

He knew death was a hard subject for you. Halloween, whilst a fun and goofy excuse to eat too much sugar and put up skeletons and pumpkins everywhere, was the bane of your existence.

In your own words, it was ‘just a day for everyone to flex their mortality’ at you. You were immortal. Cannot be killed, will not die.

It was a miserable existence.

Bucky didn’t mind the lack of scary movies and decorations. He wasn’t a fan of scary stuff anyway.

“Doll, I’ve had enough scary in my life.” He’d said when you’d explained your aversion to the holiday.

But this year, you were even more miserable than usual.

You sat on the floor of your bedroom, just..staring at the floor. Lost in thought.

“May I?” Bucky said from the doorframe, pointing with his foot to the ground next to you.

You nodded.

He sat down, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Sensing that you were about to cry, he began to comfort you.

“S’okay. S’okay. I’m here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He murmured softly.

“Neither am I. Well, you knew that. Immortality.” You sighed. He nods slowly.

His eyes closed, and he felt comfortable like that. Feeling your body heat against his, he almost smiled. He could finally relax. He missed you, he missed you being in his arms.

"I don't want you gone." He muttered quietly. It was clear that he meant it. He needed you, he needed your warm and bright presence in his life.

“It’s not fair.” Your eyes began to water.

He frowned, looking down at you, squeezing you tighter against his side. His thumb rubbed up and down against your arm. “What’s not fair, sweetheart?”

“You get to love me for the rest of your life, and I get to miss you for the rest of mine?” You looked up at him.

His heart shattered into tiny pieces as you said those words.

"Doll, don't say it like that." He muttered quietly, almost in a whisper, his voice clearly wavering. The thought of him gone and you missing him was hell, he would hate if you were grieving and miserable for the rest of your immortal life. It would be torture.

“That’s what it is. That’s what it will be.” You shook your head.

His jaw clenched at what you said, but he had no response. He couldn't argue with that, you were right. He had a lifespan and you didn't, and someday he would be gone.

"Don't talk like that." He quietly muttered back, feeling his throat tighten. He could feel his eyes starting to get watery, but he refused to cry. They burned and so did his throat, but he tried his best to push it down.

"I don't want you missing me." He whispered, his hold around you tightening slightly.

“How could I not? Bucky, I miss you when you go to the bathroom for five minutes. For the rest of forever? Till the sun explodes and then after?” You can feel yourself beginning to weep.

He didn't have an answer to your question, what could he say? Nothing.

He didn't want to think of his future, he didn't want to think of leaving you behind, of you being left alone in future. It hurt to even think of it. His throat tightened even more, and he bit the inside of his cheek as he pulled you even closer, trying his best to not cry.

“I’ll love you even then, know that. I know the serum makes you live longer, I think, but you’ll still age eventually. I’ll love you even then. Wrinkly and saggy and gray and frail. Even then.” Your tone was light as you looked away from him, looking straight ahead as the tears began to drip.

His eyes closed as he held back the tears. Your words hit harder, just as you described what he feared the most. He hated the thought of getting old.

"You'll still love me, even then?" He quietly asked in response, his voice barely audible. He didn't know if he actually wanted an answer.

A part of him just wanted to bury his face into your shoulder and hide there forever, to feel safe and secure in your arms.

“Of course.” Your eyes are so watery. “I’ll let you lean on me and we’ll dance every night. Or we’ll sway. Whatever you can do. And I’ll make sure you take your medicine, and that you can eat the food I’d make for dinner. And I’ll carry you everywhere you can’t go.”

He felt the wetness forming in his eyes, but he still held the tears back. He didn't want to show any sort of weakness, but he was weak around you. His heart felt like it was shattering with each word you said.

He was going to miss this.

He missed your gentle voice, he missed your presence, he missed the feeling of being vulnerable with you. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his arms tightening around your body, holding you as close as he could.

You hold him tightly. “I’m scared, Buck. I’m so scared. What if I forget your voice?”

His heart sunk further, and he held onto you as tight as he could. He hated what you were saying, he hated how it made his stomach twist.

"Don't say that, doll." His voice was quiet, his heart breaking. He feared the same, he feared you forgetting his voice, his face, anything about him, if you knew your memory was perfect, he couldn't be too careful.

"I'll record my voice for you." He whispered, his voice muffled against your neck.

“And your smell? And your eyes? Oh, please don’t let me forget your eyes.” You sob.

He gripped the fabric of the back of your shirt, his heart shattering at your tears, hearing you sob. He could feel his throat tightening, his eyes watering, and his breathing becoming shaky against your neck.

He hated this feeling.

He was helpless, powerless.

"You won't, you won't forget any of it." Please God, I don't want you to forget me, his heart was screaming at him.

It was his worst nightmare, his chest tightened as he felt your words. There were so many 'what-ifs.' He hated it, it was killing him.

"You won't." He muttered, swallowing the lump in his throat, the tears were dangerously close to falling. He hated seeing you cry, he hated the 'what-if' situation.

He just closed his eyes, holding onto you as hard as he could, as if you would leave otherwise.

“Okay.” You nodded slowly. “Okay.” If he said so, you believed him.

He didn't want to argue anymore, he couldn't. He could barely think, but he felt himself crying against your neck.

He didn't want to lose you, not now, not later. He couldn't, he just couldn't. Even the thought alone was painful. But it was going to be okay. You’d stay with him. You’d be there. You’d hold his hand when he goes. That was a comforting thought.

And that just had to be enough.

Graphics by @saradika-graphics

[questionableratatouille00]

what in the hunger games

[questionableratatouille00]

nah I was reading a Bucky fic and they called his right hand his organic fingers 💀

I’m not a hater but what. 😭

[questionableratatouille00]

listen instead of using Nat as the jealous girl in your Steve x reader fics how about we use Peggy instead. like she’s already a crazy jealous person. the shooting the shield scene. she’s perfect for it. nat deserves better. peggy does not

[questionableratatouille00]

Bucky Barnes vs. Winter Soldier

god i hate titling posts i think it looks weird as hell but i hate not knowing what post tumblr's giving me notifications for

also fuck grammar don't expect too much it's 10 pm im tired.

anyway

My favorite part about the whole bucky vs soldat thing and how they aren't the same person is that they are. they are literally the exact same person down to their core traits. if you disagree with me thats fine whatever i contradict myself in nearly every sentence and i'm right there with you disagreeing.

anyway

they are the same. they may be separate, whether it's by amnesia or just which side they're on, but in the end they come from the same source.

bucky's traits -> loyal, smart, very good sniper, watchful (watching over steve, noticing how steve left, noticing steve doing this and that) and able to follow a trail (finding steve in all his goddamn alley fights)

Winter Soldier's traits -> loyal (he is loyal to hydra, even if it's not really by choice), smart, very good sniper, watchful (just look at his eye movements. sebastian is so talented I CANT), and very good at tracking/following a trail.

those traits never change. yeah, bucky's a fine, science convention lovin guy, and the soldats a murder machine, but they still have the same traits in the end.

and that's why it makes bucky's character motivations and storyline so much better, because he should feel that guilt. not because it was his fault or because he should take the blame for it, but because it's only natural for humans to feel that way after something like that.

conveying the reasonings behind why bucky thinks hes a bad person is done better in fanfics than in his own damn show but we don't have time to unpack all of that

ive read so many wonderful fics where his guilt is so well portrayed it's AMAZING. he had no free will. they forced him to do it. it wasn't his fault. but it was still him. in the end it was still him. and he still remembers it

hydra did not carve bucky out of his body, they just took away his memories.

you didn't delete the tumblr blog, you just changed the theme

[batwngs-archive]

✨peaches, parsnips, lemonade, and oak trees ✨

peaches- what makes you happiest in the world? so many things!!! family + friends, small animals (cats, birds, etc), art, art made by my friends, inside jokes, good food, books and poems that I'll never fully understand no matter how many times I keep reading them, passionate people rambling about the things they love, quiet moments on the train or bus where you can just watch the colors of life fly by through the windows, when people u love and care for send u something they made or show u something they made, tote bags and t-shirts with weird and cute things on them, sharing fruit, sending the people I love things that remind me of them, pretty lights, the ocean (while it also makes me feel many other things), heart emojis, etc, etc.!

parsnips- how do you feel about cooking? whats your favorite thing to cook? cooking is very good, very cleansing imo especially when you’re alone in the kitchen and just vibing with a good playlist going off in the background..very healing but ahahahh I'm a terrible cook like I'm definitely better than linguini from ratatouille,, ik my palettes and some flavor combinations that work and I really love prep work (cutting veggies and meat, cleaning veggies, very good stuff) but I'm Not Good. I have a very bad habit of dumping all and every spice together and hoping it comes out well, so it’s always either too salty, too tangy, too something (but I'll still eat I worked to make it) my favorite thing to cook blackened salmon/chicken with sautéed broccoli, it’s not a lot of ingredients so it’s relatively easy to make and I like the prep work for it like boiling the broccoli and getting the boullion ready 

lemonade- favorite summer memory? ohh there’s so many but I remember going to the park the hour before sunset (if you go any later, mosquitos come out and you’ll regret it later, any earlier and it’ll be too hot to make it past the mailbox) I think it was the first summer I was able to just walk by myself, my parents never let us go by ourselves anywhere, they were always anxious that something might happen. but like that summer I just walked to the closest park that overlooked the lake. I remember how still everything was there, it was after it had rained all day too so the park benches and swings were dripping wet and the grass was slick. I just walked in a circle, the park’s path was just a large circle, and I remember seeing frogs very clearly. they were just there in the grass looking out towards the lake that was at the edge of the park and behind those metal schoolyard fences. I sat with the frog for most of that evening until the sun was nearly gone and the sky was that violent pink orange with the growing indigo on the other side. the frog hopped off eventually and I went home; honestly that summer was probably the loneliest summers (summertime tends to be like that) but it was the first time that I clearly remember wanting to be better, like as a person overall and everything that summer was just begging me to be gentler and kinder and take things slow! very transformative walk!!

oak trees- what element of nature do you feel most connected to? bodies of water!!!! mostly the ocean since I live the closest to it and have spent my life facing the sea, but lakes and rivers are so beautiful! unfortunately I'm surrounded by man-made lakes and canals, I don’t think I've even seen a real, natural-flowing river. 

send me some cottagecore asks?

[nwkrp-blog]

                                  ⋆ — WELCOME HOME, TRAVELER.

THE SHORES HAVE GIFTED US A NEW RESIDENT. born on APRIL 12TH, 1994, OH SEHUN has been on the island for 1 YEAR AND 2 MONTHS and is currently a MANAGER AT WASHINGTOWN. you can always find them at BITNA STUDIOS, 303.

                                          ONWARD !

                                           ⋆ EVERY STORY HAS A REASON

sehun cannot count the amount of times he had been asked the question, “why are you here?” in his naive mind, nearly a being on its own that adores even the silly disney movies ( unironically, though that is classified information ), he imagines himself pausing the frame in which he is living, breathing and moving with no script whatsoever, pointing to his own paused expression in the middle of the shot as his own voiceover explains, ironically: “yeah, that’s me! i’m sure you’re wondering how i got in that situation–” the image would proceed to backtrack with a shrill sound of reversed voices in a very high speed, until it stopped in his own face again. there he stands, a slice of cake in front of him, his hair then jet black and flopping in front of his eyes in a way that made him shake his head to move it away.

the voiceover would come back, “that’s me around a year ago. i had just finished college – i had been some kind of prodigy when i was younger, so i skipped a grade. i had an economics degree, a pretty girlfriend, a possible job set, and that cake.” each image should show each of his accomplishments, as to demonstrate how perfect it all seemed, “life seemed pretty set. i should’ve been happy, at least that’s what i heard from everybody else. the problem is that i wasn’t. life sucked big time. so i moved away, i moved away to paradise–”

the movie would end a few seconds later, after he let himself ramble about all of the oh so amazing things he now has, how beautiful the place is, and how much fun he has. it’s the intro to a movie for his friends he left behind, he supposes, because it is terrible even as a joke, and one should definitely not tell every inch of the truth to those who were not with you. what was sehun supposed to say, that he had seen the opportunity in a website at three in the morning and packed his bags a week later without any sort of concrete plan? or perhaps the realization that he would never become what he dreamed of finally fell onto his lap as soon as his degree did, too? the truth felt childish. peter pan found an old watch and realized time had caught up to him – there was no wendy, and no lost boy except for himself. time did not stop for him, and it did not move any slower with each day that passed. on the bottom of his old dresser he found a map coated in a tad of pixie dust, and with it he ran away to neverland. lonely, foolish, and afraid. peter is a coward – all children grow except one, and he was determined to keep it that way.

                                          ⋆ EVERY STORY HAS ITS ROOTS

INT. CHILD’S BEDROOM. NIGHT.

( 1999 )

all this has happened before, and it will all happen again, but this time it happened in seoul. it happened in a quiet street on the other side of the han river. that corner house over there is the home of the oh family and peter pan chose this particular house because there were people here who believed in him.

sehun believed this happened, because he had dreamed it around age five, on a ride home in the backseat of mom’s car after a day of too many ice creams scoups and disney movies at his best ( bestest! ) friend’s house. he dreamed that he was already home, sleeping soundly tucked in bed – but only pretending, you see, he was determined to catch it when peter pan knocked on his window. what came, however, was not the boy himself, but a tiny star, which zoomed through his blue curtains in the room he shared with his brother.

the tiny star, which sehun saw had a couple of sheer wings flipping within its glow, made a little bell sound and a trail of twinkling specs followed it in a line that then disappeared as it moved.

when he woke up, startled, he swore to his mom that he had seen tinker bell, and that she promised to teach him how to fly. his mother said, then, that her little boy was special, so smart that he would fly towards his dreams without any help. he sneezed from the fairy dust.

EXT. STREET. DAY.

( 2007 )

the sun as is setting as a boy and his father exit a movie theater, view from inside a ticket booth. sound is drown out, but the child is talking excitedly about the movie they’d just seen, while the father nods and smiles, giving his own input from time to time.

sehun doesn’t believe any other movie that year is better than this ratatouille thing him and his father had just seen, but the man told him that it was, in his own opinion, hot fuzz, though sehun was not old enough yet to watch it. sehun let go of his father’s hand as their feet met the sidewalk on the other side of the street, and on a whim told him looking up, half confused, half curious to the reaction.

“dad, i think i wanna make a movie someday” he looks down as he kicks nothing in particular, then back up at his father who smiles kindly.

“a movie, huh? about what?” the big hand ruffles sehun’s hair, then he frowns as he tries to fix it and think of a subject. well, he doesn’t know – he thinks of his toys, first and foremost, but toy story is already a hit and how many films about kids and their toys can there be? sehun supposes not many. then school comes to mind, and he wonders if his situation of skipping a grade this year to study with the bigger kids is movie worthy. he thinks he is, so he says it. father laughs – huh, well, maybe it isn’t. sehun thinks a bit harder – he thinks of his friends and how funny they are; everybody could use a joke like the ones his friends tell. he thinks of yerin, who he just met when he switched classrooms a couple weeks ago but sehun thinks love is not about time, but the fluttery feeling two people get when they share new crayons.

“i’m gonna make movies about beautiful things because it’s nice to look at them” he says, and father snickers. he stares, eyes narrowing – he pictures himself in a cowboy hat as he speaks in his own thoughts: this is a stone cold world. they go home with ice cream cones.

INT. TEENAGER’S BEDROOM. DAY.

( 2011 )

there are two boys sitting on the twin sized bed, both staring intensely at the sealed letter between them. nobody moves or speaks, the only sound in the room is the computer’s running noise and a pop song coming from the other room.

when sehun’s mother handed him a letter with the seoul national university seal on its back as he entered his house with a friend who was supposed to stay the night, the boy immediately grabbed it with the roughest, utmost care, then proceeded to sprint up the stairs to his room, shutting the door behind him.

now, when jihoon opened his friend’s bedroom door, a few seconds after it had hit him on the nose, he found sehun sitting on the bed, back straight as pole, pale complexion, and an empty gaze fixed on the floor. the shorter boy gulped, fearing the worst as he sat next to his friend, letter between them.

“so… were you accepted?” sehun had never heard jihoon speak so carefully, and perhaps that had been enough to snap him out of his mindless trance for a couple of seconds only to reply that he didn’t know, he hadn’t checked it. jihoon takes a big breath, and looks over at the letter. the clock on sehun’s beside table ticks, they breathe, a car honks outside, they stare at the letter, sehun’s brother turns on music on the other room, they stare at the letter, they stare at the letter, they stare at the letter…

“sehun, you little bitch!” jihoon snaps at the three minute mark of intense staring in absolute silence, though sehun is barely startled, “open the goddamn letter! you’re killing me here! you have perfect grades, you’re a goddamn prodigy, you’ll be accepted!” he groans loudly when his friend provides no answer, and pulls the letter from its place himself. sehun’s eyes grow wide as he yells to know just what jihoon thinks he’s doing.

what follows is the incredibly-mature-and-not-at-all-childish scene of a short eighteen year old and a recently-stretched seventeen year old yelling, hopping, pulling, grabbing, fighting over the letter, endless groans of cuss words and death threats. the shorter boy takes the lead and flops his friend onto the bed, straddling his chest and pinning his hands to the pillow. sehun hates that jihoon got stronger than him over the last summer break while working physical jobs – he was taller, for christ’s sake, and jihoon insisted on calling him a dried noodle every time they went into the pool.

“jihoon, i swear to god! i swear– what are you doing!? jeon jihoon, you’ll sleep on the street!” a rip on the envelope with jihoon’s tooth as sehun squirmed and pushed and pulled pathetically, which only made his friend’s task difficult, however not at all impossible. he shut his eyes tight with a whiny ‘oh my god, why?’ as he gave up and jihoon read out loud, dear oh sehun… then he stops. and laughs, bright and surprised and glad as he waves the letter way too quickly in front of his friend’s nose.

“holy shit, you’re in, sehun! they really let your airhead in! fucking scholarship and everything!” and there was too much excitement for sehun to complain about the insult or the fact that jihoon really is too stunned to be truly witty, because sehun is pulling the letter and laughing in disbelief along with his friend and they hug each other so tight that sehun really cusses those paid bodybuilding hours jihoon had. they buy ice creams on their way to yerin’s house.

INT. KITCHEN. NIGHT.

( 2016 )

there are two men standing by the kitchen counter, and a woman who is sitting on it. the first boy stands with one of his hands on the stone, his black hair slipping in front of his eyes as his head hangs low. the second has a hand running between the strands of his blonde hair, sighing heavily as he looks at the other, and then at the woman. she only stares at the first, gaze icy, angry, and eyes glossy, the tip of her nose pink.

“what the fuck is wrong with you? is this some kind of help call?” there’s venom in her words and a scoff by her question mark, “oh poor me, poor oh sehun, i graduate top one percent of the country and i’m not happy about it! it’s not enough! i have to run away to some kind of magical fucking island to feel happiness again!” and her tone builds up as her sentences roll, aiming for sehun’s heart though they barely pierce skin. he reasons she is still upset that he broke up with her in front of their other friends as they ate the cake she baked herself. he reasons he would be mad, too, if he had to bake.

jihoon calls her name softly reprimanding, but she bats no eyelash at his direction. she simply stares at sehun as he stares at her. she calls for a response, a loud ‘so?’ as she crosses her arms, and he gives her what he can, “the flight is in two days. i’m sorry i called you over while you’re still mad–” jihoon shakes his head with a ‘dumbass’ under his breath and yerin lets out an incredulous scoff that are commas to his sentence “– but my plan to tell you the day i left was too cruel, i think.”

there’s silence, hot anger in the air, and a sickening strawberry shortcake smell stuck to the walls. yerin bites her lip, jihoon moves as if he were to speak but sehun can’t hold his tongue and mumbles much quieter “you have clothes here in my apartment, i think you should take them away–” and yerin cuts him off as she flops down the counter and pushes his chest as hard as she can, yelling him to go fuck himself and to not come back ever.

jihoon stays as she leaves with tears on her cheeks. sehun thinks he this is the first time he has seen her cry since her uncle died a few weeks after she started university. to look at jihoon hurts a bit more than to see her tears, truthfully, because while yerin bursts in her sadness she mistakes for anger, jihoon looks at him with pure disappointment. the younger imagines if he just had thought this through, just given it a month, told jihoon everything going through his mind…

the older’s tone says it’s too late. “why?” and sehun can’t answer for a moment. he can’t say he let himself abandon his dreams while jihoon had all of his intact, he can’t say he felt sorry for himself while jihoon gave all of the people around him nothing but pride, he can’t say he’s terrified of growing up while jihoon is already what he wanted to be.

“i just need to get away. i’m sorry.” and that’s all he can say.

[questionableratatouille00]

"if i betray you, i betray myself. if i betray him, i betray my country. my country is very dear to me."

"dearer than i?"

"no, not dearer than you.”

it’s literally them Jesus Christ

[questionableratatouille00]

awww, thank you!

@lostgirlmuseum @buckylattes @antiquarianfics @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @buckysburdens @cosmicbucky @ every mutual who isn’t included on this list! I love you all!

rb to give a flower to the person you rb this from

[questionableratatouille00]

listen I know I already made a post like this but what are we thinking in a post moving on future

jolly sailor bold: mermaid reader x pirate/mercenary Bucky Barnes. Filled with lore, including Mt wundagore, Asgardian stuff, royalty, and magic. Pretty cool

you’ve caught a stray: not an au but certainly not canon compliant. Reader moves away from DC post SHIELD crash, to a farm in West Virginia owned by a family member who doesn’t live there. Anyway, their only neighbor is Bucky (who suffers from extreme agoraphobia post-HYDRA). They fall in love over a series of chaotic events and it’s pretty cool.

[questionableratatouille00]

ᗯEEK Oᖴ ᒪOᐯE

Howdy Howdy! I felt like doing something. So..here we go!

Pinterest Board (Section for every Drabble)

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐎𝐧𝐞 || 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ||

𝙲𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙸𝚗 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎

Your best guy shows you a classic Valentine’s Day.

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐰𝐨 || 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ||

𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Watching movies with your girlfriend is a great way to spend the holiday.

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 || 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ||

ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ (ᴍɪɴᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪɴᴇ)

Bath time with Bucky? On Valentine’s Day? Hell yeah.

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 || 𝐒𝐚𝐦 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ||

𝙃𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙄 𝙏𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙇𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 (𝙄’𝙢 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙛𝙪���� 𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚)

Cuddles in bed.

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 || 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ||

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒹 𝑀𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝐼 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒴𝑜𝓊.

When Nat comes home from a mission injured, you have a bit of an argument. But can she make it up to you?

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐢𝐱 || 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ||

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘞𝘢𝘺 𝘛𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵

A yummy Valentine’s Day with your favorite woman.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics, banner at the top made by me.

if you acknowledge the cringe ass title you’re a hater boooooooo

[questionableratatouille00]

final round to choose what I’m gonna write because I finished Moving On

jolly sailor bold: mermaid reader x pirate/mercenary Bucky Barnes. Filled with lore, including Mount Wundagore, The Scarlet Witch, Asgardians, and more. Reader gets like locked out of mermaid kingdom and goes to Wanda for help but Wanda wants the Darkhold so she turns reader human. Reader meets Bucky and chaos ensues. Very cutesy

you’ve caught a stray: not an au but certainly not canon compliant. Reader moves away from DC post SHIELD crash, to a farm in West Virginia owned by a family member who doesn’t live there. Anyway, their only neighbor is Bucky, who’s not quite James Barnes and not quite the Asset either . They fall in love over a series of chaotic events and it’s pretty cool.

[questionableratatouille00]

righteously evil: you've been hurt. what you're doing is wrong. there is no doubt. but it's what you need to do. you were not going to roll over and let it just happen. so you did what you had to. and you will continue doing what you had to. when you die, its with fury in your eyes. your opponent says you're stubborn, having kept this up for this long. you laugh, and spit in their face. you curse them until your very last breath.

go through a nighttime routine and ill tell u what kind of villain u are