#additional tags - no summary

[royalarchivist]

I won't be posting a clip of it, but for those who are keeping up with Arkanis, Araldo (the current villain in Arkanis) just seemingly destroyed Denix and Amora, the little green and purple ghosties.

(Timestamp: 5h 11m for Pac's stream)

[peranna]

as Arcane season 2 ended there's an influx of people sharing their work on AO3, coping, as one does, which is beautiful, i love yall, keep up the good work

[sisterdivinium]

Cosmogonies

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, Gen Fandom: Warrior Nun (TV) Relationship: Jillian Salvius/Mother Superion Character: Mother Superion (Warrior Nun) Additional Tags: Character Study

"Violence is the one element always present at the start of every incarnation — the violence of childbirth, of a mother's symbolic or real death, of bleeding out into oblivion herself, every new life tied to destruction… Except for the one Jillian grants her, reaching the spirit despite the mortal shell." Mother Superion has experienced many deaths and many lives throughout a singular existence, rewriting her origins by others’ hands: it is the beginning that defines the end, so origin stories must change to fit. Someone, however, might just be the one thread to weave them all together…

AO3

[altschmerzes]

ao3 tagging conundrums they will never end

[quietwingsinthesky]

one of my favorite things about podficcing is hearing what meta bits the readers choose to include in the recording. some people go straight to the text of the fic, some people just start off with the title to set the scene, some people include tags but which ones they find important differ from reader to reader, i’ve even heard one who included the publishing date of fics.

[aparticularbandit]

Just A Jump To The Left (I)

Summary: When Haruhi grabs the collar of her shirt and tugs her backward, Junko expects it. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt when the back of her head bangs against the edge of Haruhi’s desk, doesn’t mean she doesn’t still wince with the pain of it. She glances up, blinking, and meets Haruhi’s golden honey eyes with a grin. “We’re gonna start a club,” she whispers, mouth moving a fragment of a second before Haruhi’s, so it sounds almost like an echo but not quite.

“We’re gonna start a—” For a moment, Haruhi’s enthusiasm, her excitement, falters. Her brow furrows again. “What did you say?”

OR: Kyon's role is sabotaged by none other than one (1) Junko Enoshima. This...probably won't end well.

Brought to you by a discussion @tobiasdrake and I had about what it would look like if Junko and Haruhi ever met.

Chapter Rating: T. Fic Rating: T.

AO3

next chapter

Ryoko hasn’t done anything with her hair yet.

Chunks of it still hold its natural blood red sheen, but streaks of it from her scalp all the way through to their tips have transformed to a pearlescent white.  She can’t say exactly when it happened; somewhere between the moment she fled her sister’s massacre of assassins (at her sister’s insistence) and the moment she found Yasuke in the little apartment where he’d been holed up since transferring to his new middle school (to intern at the nearby hospital, despite his age) – somewhere in that space of time, it had happened.  Yasuke didn’t comment on it the first moment he saw her, but he did shortly after, and she’d run her fingers through it, all grease-spattered and dirty, and wondered how he’d seen the white underneath all of its grime in the first place.

Eventually, she’ll have to decide what to do with it; whether she’ll return it to its blood red or bleach it all white or play around with something that is neither at all, she’ll need to do something.

(Not the red.  If not for the white streaks, it would look just like the blood she’d seen around the—)

((When she remembers all of that, she heaves, vomits.  She told Yasuke once – just once – and they’ve never discussed it since. Even then, she didn’t give him any specifics, just enough for him to understand why she is here.  Why she can’t go back.))

She hasn’t started attending middle school yet, not while she’s still recovering from everything, not when she doesn’t even have hair with one consistent color yet; she’d be bullied ceaselessly for that, and she’s in no condition to be bullied (she’ll snap, she’ll hurt someone the way that Mukie—), and Yasuke is so busy during the day with middle school and his hospital internship that the only time they can spend together is after dark.  He bikes to school, bikes to the hospital, because that means he loses less time to sleep (because that means he loses less time with her), but every now and again, as she slowly but surely gets better, she walks to the hospital to see him – to walk back with him, if she doesn’t sit on the back of the bike as he takes them back.  Sometimes they walk the streets, silent, and it’s clear that bothers him.  She’s always been the talkative one.  She just doesn’t have the words anymore.

Ryoko walks through the streets in a white gown, barefoot, with her hair streaked red and white, and people avoid her.

They probably think she’s a ghost.  That’s fine.

Yasuke bikes them back, and people avoid both of them.  That’s fine, too.

Ryoko holds onto both sides of the rack Yasuke’s tied to the back of his bike and leans her head back and looks at the stars.  They seem to stay in place as he bikes them back, and she reaches one hand up and out, as though she could almost—

The bike hits a pebble, something so infinitesimally small Yasuke couldn’t have known to avoid it, and the bike jumps, and Yasuke stays on, and Ryoko, with only one hand loose on the rack, tumbles off.  Her knee stings, as does the palm of the hand she’d pushed out to break her fall.  The skin of both has been scraped clean off.  She’s bleeding.  The same color as her hair.  The same color as—

To the left of her, something metallic jangles.

Ryoko breathes (had she not been breathing before?  maybe not) and looks up to see a girl of roughly her age with long brown hair and a ribbon holding it back trying to climb over some sort of metal entry gate.  She blinks twice – makes sure she isn’t seeing anything, and she isn’t because the girl is still there – and shouts out, “H-hey!”

The girl glares at her.  “Hey what.”

It’s not a question.  It should be a question, probably, but it’s not.

“What are you….”  Ryoko struggles with words.  She’s never struggled with words before.  “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” the girl calls back, still glaring at her, pert nose upturned.

Ryoko glances at the sidewalk around her, then slowly pushes herself up as Yasuke’s bike skids to a stop behind her.  “I fell,” she says.  She brushes the dirt and rocks from her skin, sees the blood bubbling and ebbing up through her broken skin, and her eyes begin to glaze over.

“Well, I’m going to break into the school!” the girl halfway over the gate says.  “And you’re going to help me!”

This has nothing to do with me.

The breeze lifts the edge of Ryoko’s white gown and sends it pushing back and forth against her ankles.  Yasuke’s saying something – barking it out at the girl whose name she still doesn’t know – and Ryoko’s just seeing the spot at her knee where the white gown is growing stained with her blood.

This has nothing to do with me.

Ryoko shivers as the breeze brushes cold against her bare arms, and she starts towards the gate, to the girl halfway over it.  Yasuke grabs her wrist, but she shakes his hand off.  “What are we doing?”

The other girl beams.

“You’ll see when we get to the other side!”

~

Ryoko doesn’t exactly collapse on the other side of the gate, but she hits her bloody knee when she lands and then can only hobble where the girl wants her to run.

The girl gives her a sour expression, lips a downturned V, and then glares up at Yasuke as he jumps over the gate with them.  “Fine,” the girl says, “you’ll do it then.”

“Do what?”

Which is how Ryoko ends up sitting on the bleachers with her arms resting on her knees, her hand wrapped in a fresh bandage, her right knee wrapped in another one, while the girl shouts out directions to a Yasuke who keeps glaring at her and then looking over at Ryoko, who is too tired to tell him to stop.

Tired.

That’s a funny word, honestly.

Tired.  Exhausted.  Weary.  Consumed.

If she’s honest, Ryoko hasn’t felt like herself since Mukie abandoned her, since Mukie told her to run.  She feels like something else – like someone else – like she’s in the middle of some great and terrible becoming.  Eventually, the girl sits down next to her, still barking directions at Yasuke occasionally, and without a second thought, Ryoko leans her head against the girl’s shoulder.

The girl flinches.  “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” Ryoko quips back, voice soft with excessive weariness, as she glances up with big red eyes to meet the girl’s golden brown ones.

The girl gestures with one hand to Yasuke and whatever he’s writing with the chalk along the ground.  “Can’t you tell?”

Ryoko sighs.  She doesn’t have the dataset for this.  She doesn’t want to look for this.  But the girl asks, and so she does.  “You’re writing a message,” she says, voice growing monotone, “to anyone who can see it and understand what it says.  You’re saying, I’m here.  To aliens, to time-travelers, to espers, to sliders, to Santa Claus himself, if he’s out and about on a holiday that isn’t his.”  She doesn’t blink.  “As if that sort of thing would draw any of them to you.”

“You can read that?”  The girl’s eyes narrow, and her face gets super close to Ryoko’s.  She smells a bit.  Sweat, mostly.  Probably hasn’t brushed her teeth.  “Are you an alien?”

“No,” Ryoko says calmly.  “I’m a ghost.”

The girl presses the flat of her hand against Ryoko’s bandaged knee and scowls when Ryoko winces.  “Ghosts don’t bleed.”  Then she crosses her arms and slumps back down, glaring out at Yasuke.  She shouts another direction at him – Ryoko doesn’t care, so no matter how loud the girl gets, she doesn’t pay her any attention – and then gives Ryoko another suspicious look.  “How do you know that won’t work?”

Ryoko rolls her eyes.

(This isn’t like her.  She cares, usually.  She listens.  Even when Mukie used to go off on all of her soldier mercenary military assassin research and interests.  Even when Mukie spent hours correcting her posture because she was holding her stick sword wrong.  But this….

This has nothing to do with her.  Even if she’s sitting right here.  Even if she decided to break into the school with this stranger.  It still has nothing to do with her.

So why is she here?)

“If all those creatures are here and in hiding, a message like that isn’t going to get them out.”

“But it’s in their own language and everything!”

“Are you sure?” Ryoko asks, glancing out over the incomplete message, its chalk inscription trying to gleam in the moonlight and failing.  “Or did you just decide it was their language without any real proof?”  She leans against the other girl again.  It’s overly familiar, sure, but it’s comfortable.  And she’s so tired.  “If I were an alien, I wouldn’t tell you anyway.”

The girl frowns.  “Even if I guessed?”

“Even if you guessed.”

The girl barks out another instruction at Yasuke, but it’s not as enthusiastic as it was before.  Half-hearted.  “You really don’t think this will work?”

Ryoko shrugs.  “It might.  There are probably stupid aliens just like there are stupid people.”  (She is not like this.  She doesn’t call people stupid!)  She leans a little more heavily against her.  She’s warm, which really just means that Ryoko is cold.  “But do you really want a stupid alien?  Or do you want a smart one?”

“Any alien!” the girl proclaims, loud, enthusiastic, all that energy coming back all at once.  It’s endless, maybe, her enthusiasm for this.

It makes Ryoko feel even more tired.

(She was like this once.)

“People are all just boring and normal,” the girl continues without hesitation, "and aliens, time travelers, espers, sliders – all of them are infinitely better than people!”  She flashes Ryoko a grin.  “That means you, too, Ghost Girl.”

Ryoko blinks twice and then looks away.  (She’s too bright, this girl.  She’ll blind her with that warmth.)  “At least you’re looking for them,” she murmurs.  “You can’t find one if you aren’t looking.”  She runs her forefinger along the inseam of her thumb.  “Maybe I should write a message for them.”

The girl shoves her.  “Don’t steal my idea!”

“I won’t.”  Ryoko chuckles – small, broken – as she holds up her bandaged hand, used again to catch herself, twinging with pain.  “I’d have to break into another school first, and that….”  She sighs and stares out over the now quite marked up field in front of them.  “I’m too tired.  But you’ll let me know if yours succeeds, right?  Make all the papers?”

The girl just grins at her.

~

It’s as they’re leaving the school, as Ryoko carefully situates herself on the back of Yasuke’s bike, that the other girl pauses in her brisk walk in the opposite direction.  Then she turns, hands propped on her hips, and yells, “What’s your name?”

Yasuke doesn’t even turn back, answering before Ryoko has a chance to do so, “What do you need that for?”

“So I can tell you if they contact me!  Obviously.”

Ryoko hops off the back of Yasuke’s bike.  The action causes her knee to twinge again, but she doesn’t wince as she hobbles over to the other girl.  “Mitsuki,” she says, voice gentle.  Standing next to her, she realizes that she’s nearly the same height as the other girl.  How odd.  Someone so bright seemed like she would be huge.  Huh.  Still, she meets the girl’s honey brown eyes as she repeats, “Matsuda Mitsuki.”

The girl looks her over, and then instead of offering her own name, she asks, “What middle school are you at?”

This time, Ryoko doesn’t have a lie ready.  Even if she did, something tells her it would be far better to keep that information to herself.  There are people she doesn’t want to find her right now, after all, and while it isn’t likely this girl has contacts with any of them, it isn’t an impossibility.  So instead, she takes one of the girl’s hands in her bandaged one and holds it up until they’re flat against each other.  “Have you heard of the red string of fate?”

“Ew,” the girl says, lips pursing, but she doesn’t take her hand away.  “Why’re you bringing that up?”

“Well, think of it like this.  If I don’t tell you and we see each other again, then it’s fate, right?”  This time, when she meets the girl’s eyes, Ryoko almost feels taller than her, but not by much.  She’s growing, finally.  Maybe she’ll be as tall as Mukie the next time she sees her.  If she ever sees her again.  “Like the cosmos says we’re supposed to be friends, or something like that.  And if not—”  She winks.  “Well, we’ll find those time travelers, and we’ll fix it, won’t we?”

The girl holds her hand still, flat against Ryoko’s.  “If I find a time traveler, I’m not going to waste my time finding you.”

“Fate, then.”  Ryoko tucks her thumb around the other girl’s hand.  “Like a good story with a clandestine meeting.”

“Hm.”

But despite the noncommittal sound, the girl tucks her thumb around Ryoko’s hand just the same.

There are no red strings when they leave.

That’s probably for the best. Ryoko hates red, anyway.

[meluci-fer]

If you're going to tag your fic with both Novel and Drama Fandoms, I think it's super valid, I even encourage it for the sake of visibility! But please, I beg you, if the main canon is a Novel and your story is Drama-based, use the appropriate tag Alternate Canon - Drama Verse or Drama Verse. Chinese media fandoms are especially good at NOT doing this when most dramas are adapted from novels. I'd love to be able to better filter and curate my experience, but without proper tags, it's difficult.

[oldschoolfic-ds9]

New Recruits

by CAllan, unknown year

Series summary: In the alt-universe of The Rebellion Saga (TRS), Kira Nerys is fighting for her life against the occupying forces of the Dominion when she stumbles into the arms of the new Resistance... and its charismatic leader.

(Author did not provide a fic summary.)

Words: 723, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Rating: none listed

Warnings: none listed

Characters: Kira Nerys, Odo

Relationships: Odo/Kira

Reader suggested tags (what are these?): none

The Rebellion Saga:

A Light in the Darkness

His Dreams Come True

Evident Necessities

Fighting Free

Battle's Lull

The Five Day War Begins

The Five Day War Ends

Man of the Temple

The Fall

The Outcast

Is There Salvation?

Risk

Conscience

Future's Cradle

Baby Mine

Ransom

New Recruits

links (link broken? report it and try the archive.org alternative):

archive.org - option 1

[reinemichele]

Translation here

— Once again...  The Doors of Paradise are opened... In the midst of sleep, the world she loves sinks… Down to the bottom of the water. As if beckoned by her hand at the end of a dream… The door was opened. Come ・ Down ・ To ・The ・ E ・ly ・si ・on — And then... her reality shattered... Tell me, Papa... In Paradise, will my body still hurt? She asks questions over and over again. Her never-ending fascination with 『Paradise』 Ah... the girl can no longer see...  The corpse lying beside her... Closed door ... the man's wildest dreams became a cruel reality. Cross talk ... the girl's reality became a fantastical dream. Closed door ... the man's paradise became an eternal abyss. Cross talk ... the girl's abyss became a momentary paradise! ... Papa, In Paradise, will my heart still hurt? Hey, Papa...

[izzy-b-hands]

Day One fic is up for Drag Week (full list of prompts and more event info can be found at their blog @la-vie-en-rose-ofmd-drag-week)

[evenmorecrows]

honestly hits/kudos dont matter all that much to me, i only read based off them if ive already trudged through a good chunk of the recent fics. usually i read something based off of its tags, whether its completed or not, and how its summary is written. if its not completed, i look at how many words have already been written for it (i take a lot of words as more investment) and when it was last updated to figure out if i want to take the plunge.

Another AO3 thing I’m curious about, how do yall decide if something is good enough to read? Usually I follow a rule of 1 kudos for every 10 hits. One because it’s easy math and two it’s yet to fail me. Thoughts? Do you just go for it and pray it’s good?

[street-smarts00]

Cool To The Touch

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Being a telepath meant being cautious. With every touch, you were cautious. Whether you used it on criminals during a mission, or tried to avoid it when in close contact with your friends.

You were cautious when Bucky, the last person you expected, woke you up in the middle of the night, begging you to use your powers on him.

WC: 7.8K

Tags/ Warnings: canon typical violence, depictions of murder/strangulation, hints at torture, Hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, reader is ex-HYDRA

A/N: Not canon compliant! It gives OG avengers tower fics so it briefly includes some of ur fav OG avengers + Yelena, and I started writing this before Thunderbolts came out so doesn’t really reference that. Beta read by my bestie @whats-yesterday00

You thought there was a noise. It was muffled and quick, but it still managed to reach your ears. 

It’s what caused you to stir awake. Half asleep, half fighting to wake up. In your semi-conscious state, you assumed it was nothing and attempted to fall back asleep. 

Then the knocking came. This new sound fully woke you up. 

You lazily reached over and grabbed your phone off the nightstand. Your eyes pried open to see the time was 3:16 am. The knocking returned. This time it wasn't quiet, cushioned. Now it was a real knock. 

You threw off the comforter and stumbled to the door. When you opened it you found Bucky Barnes about to knock a third time. 

He stared at you in silence for a moment. Even though he was the one to knock on your door, he looked almost startled. Like he was surprised to see you answer your own bedroom door. 

It was now that you noticed he was shirtless because his tense muscles relaxed, Like the sight of you relieved him. 

“Bucky, it’s three in the morning,” you started with a hoarse voice from just waking up. 

He shifted his weight as he stood in front of you. You couldn’t read his expression very well, but you could still sense something was plaguing him. 

“Can you do me a favor?” He asked. His voice had a hint of desperation. 

You straightened at the tone of his voice. Concern filled you in seconds. 

“What is it? What happened?” 

He swallowed before making his request. “Can you go in my mind?” 

You froze at his question and stared back at him with wide eyes. The last thing you would’ve ever expected from Bucky, was not only him allowing you to enter his mind, but practically begging you for it. 

When Steve first introduced you to the rest of the Avengers, he described your powers as similar to Wanda’s. After all, she was part of the reason you had those powers in the first place.

In an effort to replicate their success with the twins, Hydra started a new research program to create another telepath. You were unfortunately one of their test subjects, and the only one who made it out alive. That was because you were the only one who showed any positive results. 

Unbeknownst to them, Wanda's exposure to their experiments brought out her own magical gifts. So when they tried it with you (and without the mind stone), the results were what they called “insufficient.” The only reason they kept you alive was to study you and your abilities to perfect their technique on someone else. 

Thankfully, the Avengers tracked down the lab and found you. You were even more grateful that Steve thought you would be a good addition to the team and gave you a place to stay. 

But when he briefly explained your abilities, it made a few of them wary of you like they were with her at first. You remember Tony, and Bruce tensed up at the reveal of how your powers actually worked. Meanwhile, the woman herself was immediately welcoming. 

But just like with Wanda, you quickly grew on them. Even Tony warmed up to you and called you Witch Jr (even if you weren’t a witch).

One person that you became particularly close with was Bucky. From when you first met, there was something about him that you found comforting. You couldn’t quite place what it was. All you knew was that you never felt tense in his presence. You never worried that he would find you odd or strange. 

He started to fill the missing pieces that hydra tried to take from you. 

The beginning of your friendship was quiet. That might have been why you guys clicked so well so fast. You could exist in the calm silence together. You both enjoyed each other's company. Occasionally making small talk that didn't feel awkward or forced. 

What soon followed was deep growing trust and appreciation. It almost happened overnight. How quickly the friendship blossomed into more than just enjoying the company. You looked forward to spending time together. Wanted to know all the little quirks and intricacies that made you who you were. 

“So how does it work exactly?” he asked you. 

Bucky sat at the opposite end of the couch from you, slightly baffled that in the many weeks he knew you he still didn’t know the full scope of your powers.

“It’s kinda like Wanda’s, but more restrictive.”  The more you talked with him, the less interested you were in movie playing.  

“I know that part, but how?” he inquired. 

You shifted to fully face him, “I’m only a telepath. I can see into someone’s mind and alter it, but can’t move things with my own. And I need to make physical contact with the person to do it.”  

He stayed silent, waiting for you to continue. 

“I can see your thoughts, memories, emotions, fears, desires, anything and change them. I can alter your actions, but of course only if I’m touching you. I can plant myself in your memories and experience them for myself.” 

As he took in the information, his expression grew with curiosity. “You can change memories?” he asked in a slightly lower voice. 

His curiosity was no surprise to you. You were fully aware of his past as the winter soldier and the things your mutual acquaintances put him through.

“I can reach deep into your subconscious and bring out memories that were previously hidden. I can remove short term memories, but never long term ones,” you hesitated as you recalled what happened the previous times you were ordered to remove long term memories. All the minds you scrambled at Hydras orders. 

“Completely erasing long term memories can be dangerous.” 

Bucky nodded after you explained, acknowledging he understood. 

“Got any other cool tricks up your sleeve?” 

“I can make someone fall asleep and enter their dreams. I’ve done that a few times. Knocked out a lot of people since joining this job,” you ended with a chuckle.

The corners of his mouth threatened to perk up. “Sounds like a good cure for insomnia or nightmares.” 

“Pretty much,” you shrugged. “I actually did help Wanda fall asleep once. I don’t do it often but sometimes it can be really helpful if your dreams just get a bit too much.” 

“Sadly that’s a common occurrence for all of us.”  

“Unfortunately,” you mumbled. 

You were no stranger to nightmares. Every so often- more often than you’d like- terrifying images would creep their way into your sleep. Whether real or artificial, they still made you wake up feeling like your chest is running out of air.

You knew Bucky got them too. Probably more often than you did. Just a few days after you joined the team you ran into him in the kitchen in the middle of the night. Neither of you spoke about it other than a simple “nightmare?” and a nod as a response. 

“How hard is it to control?” he asked, still eager to understand the depth of your abilities. 

“I’ve pretty much got a good handle on it. I was offered a lot of,” you swallowed down the words hydra test subjects, “practice.” 

There was a subtle look of sadness in his eyes, like he silently told you he understood. 

“Except, there have been some moments when I’m in contact with someone and I can feel their emotions or thoughts without trying because it’s such a strong feeling. I don’t mean to, it’s just so overwhelming for the other person it seeps into me.” 

You immediately cringed at your own words. “That sounds weird doesn’t it?”

Bucky shook his head, “not at all. I think I get it. It’s like your empathy is cranked up to a thousand.“

You nodded to confirm his assumption. A tiny breath of relief left you. 

“I’ve never told anyone that before,” you whispered as your attention drifted towards your fidgeting hands. 

You didn’t expect the confession to leave you. But something told you that Bucky wouldn’t think of you as strange or creepy for it. While he was often found with a judgmental grimace, you hoped, prayed even, that not a single ounce of judgment would pass through his veins. 

“I’ve always been afraid that if I told someone, then they’d never want to touch me,” you continued, even quieter this time. 

“Hey,” he muttered to bring your eyes back to him. 

He reached his hand out towards you. You stared at it in confusion before he spoke again. You’d never heard his voice sound so soft and gentle before.

“I trust you.” 

Your heart nearly gave out from his sentiment. A soothing ache wound itself around your heart and squeezed it tight. 

You accepted his offer and took his hand in yours. His skin was warm to the touch compared to yours. The heat from his hand started to creep its way into you. 

“You don’t seem like the type to go digging around in my head.”

You gently squeezed his hand, “I promise I won’t.” 

This time he allowed the smile to grow on his lips. 

His hand parted from yours, his touch lingering for just a second longer. It left sparks on the ends of your fingertips that traveled in your veins and to your heart. 

You tried not to overthink how that was the first time you and Bucky ever really had close contact.

He folded his arms and leaned back in his seat, “You don’t want to look in there anyway. It’s a mess,” he joked. 

That’s what made you so concerned. Bucky had enough invasive alterations to his mind over the years. Turning his thoughts insight out until he no longer knew who he was. 

It was assumed that he would never ask you to look inside or do anything to his mind. 

Until now.

“Bucky what happened?” you asked, opening the door and gesturing for him to enter. 

He cautiously stepped inside. “I haven’t slept in days,” Bucky couldn’t meet your eyes as he spoke. His voice sounded shaky and rough. 

“I thought I was doing better. I didn’t have a single nightmare for three weeks and then-“ 

He paused at a loss for words. He balled his metal fist so hard you could hear the metal adjust to the strength. 

“It’s been days. Every night. I can’t sleep,” he finished weakly. 

“Do you want me to erase it? Your nightmare?” you offered.

“No!” he snapped louder than he intended. A brief flash of terror crossed his face. Likely from the images of whatever occurred in his dreams. You couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t want you to rid himself of the memory. But you assumed he wanted to keep you from witnessing whatever horrors he saw. 

The sight of him in this state was shattering your heart. 

“No, I uh … wanted to ask if you could help me sleep.”

You didn’t have to consider his request. You would help him in a heartbeat. 

“Of course.” 

His tense shoulders slightly loosened and his tight fist released. 

You moved back to the door to leave and he gave you a quizzical look.

“You wanted to go to sleep right?” you asked in conformation as you opened the door. 

His eyes widened for a second. “Right,” he muttered. 

Bucky led you down the hall to his room. Upon entering your eyes all around the interior until you stopped at the floor. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw one of the pillows and a blanket removed from the bed and layed out messily on the floor next to it instead. 

“Sometimes the bed is too soft. I thought the floor would help,” he answered your question before you could even ask it. 

The memory of Sam and Steve mentioning the discomfort of regular beds returned to you. How they felt like they were sinking in their own mattress and it took a while to get used to. 

“Do you want to try sleeping here again?” 

He shook his head, “no, I don’t want you on the floor.” He grabbed the discarded pillow and blanket and placed them back on the bed. 

You held back from playfully rolling your eyes, sensing this probably wasn’t the time to tease him. “This isn’t about my comfort, Bucky. The goal is to get you to sleep.” 

He shrugged as he sat down. “Still.” 

The room fell into silence as you stood before him. Your body was frozen in place, hesitant to move closer. It’s not that you haven’t done this before. It just felt different this time. 

This shouldn’t be happening. You shouldn’t feel weird about this. Both Wanda and Bucky are your friends. Why should it be any different doing this for Bucky? This is normal. This is what friends do, they help each other, they comfort each other. 

This is you being a friend. Nothing more. Nothing less.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat and took a few steps closer. You ignored the way your stomach was in knots. 

“So, you can lie down like normal and I can hold your hand,” you started, trying to hide the nervousness. “If you’re okay with that.” 

“That’s fine,” he shifted to lie down, giving himself the pillow that was on the floor. You moved to the other side of the bed and slowly layed down. 

That weird feeling in your stomach started to boil over as he turned to face you with his hand out. You had no choice but to shove that feeling down. He needed your help. You couldn’t help him with these feelings swarming around and distracting you. 

“I’m gonna do this slower than when I knock people out during a job. To make sure you don’t get another nightmare I’m going to help you relax and then you’re going to slowly feel more and more tired. Okay?” 

“Okay,” he whispered back. “Ya know, you don’t need to use your powers to help me relax.” 

“It’s the least I could do.” 

Bucky fake smiles back as the meaning behind his statement is lost on you. 

Reaching forward, you met his hand in yours. His palm was clammy and warm. On instinct you started to gently move your thumb back and forth over his skin. 

“Close your eyes.”

He followed your command. You took a deep breath, and focused your energy on him. 

His emotions started to flow through your veins. It was worse than you thought. His fear and anxiety were clouded, letting you know he started to calm down. But the presence was like a black cloud ready to pour at any second. A lingering weight that couldn’t stop pulling you down.

And what surprised you, was the guilt. You felt like you were drowning in it. Suffocating on it. Like it filled up your lungs and you couldn’t breathe. 

You tried your hardest to melt the feelings away. To sooth them with something he found comforting. You searched for the source of whatever started to cloud his fear, and it took you back to the feeling of his hand in yours. 

Oh. 

That’s what he meant. 

With his eyes still closed, you didn’t bother to hide the smile on your face. 

You focused back on his feelings. While smothering the flames that his nightmares sparked, you opted for a more organic source of comfort instead of mentally amplifying it. 

Your hand slowly traveled to his forearm. With a gentle touch, you ran your fingertips over his arm. Occasionally, your nails grazed his skin as you drew absentmindedly. 

The relief was almost immediate. It enveloped you like a tidal wave and left phantom goosebumps on your skin as you felt what he did. 

“That feels nice,” he mumbled under his breath. 

“Shhhh, be quiet. Go to sleep,” you whispered. 

That brought out a smile from the man across from you. He threatened to open his eyes, but you reached up and covered them. 

“Nuh-uh. Keep em closed.” 

Bucky quietly chuckled at your antics. 

Your fingers returned their dance on his arm. Now that the horrors from his nightmare had finally loosened their grasp on him, you began to lull him to sleep. 

As the seconds rolled by, his body relaxed into the mattress. You watched the tension air out of his muscles and let the serenity overtake him. Even after you knew he was asleep you kept tracing his skin. You didn’t want to stop. You wished you could stay there with him all night. To wrap your arms around him and hold him close to you. 

Before tonight, you and Bucky were never this close. Well, physically at least. Always leaving a small bubble between the two of you. Even now with your hand traveling up and down his arm, you kept yourself a safe distance away. Desperately craving to be closer but too scared to take the leap. 

After a few more greedy moments, you considered finally leaving his room to let him sleep. Carefully and slowly, you turned away from him trying to ease out of the bed without disturbing him. 

Except you couldn’t make it very far after he reached forward and grabbed your waist.

You froze in place, barely even breathing. His hand on your waist trying, and failing, to pull you closer. You knew he was asleep because you could sense it through his touch. And yet somehow he felt your presence leaving. 

Your whole body was paralyzed as you weighed whether to leave or not. Hypothetically, it would be the easiest thing in the world. Use your powers to release his hold on you. You’d done it a thousand times before to other people.

But you really didn’t want to. 

Because he wanted you to stay. 

At least that’s what you told yourself. 

So you stayed. You told yourself it would only be for a few minutes longer. 

You settled into a less tense position and rested with your back to him. He sensed the movement in his sleep again. Now, his arm had fully wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer to him. 

As he moved, your sleep shirt shifted, his touch was leaving goosebumps all over your skin and made your heart flutter. 

It took a moment, but you finally let yourself melt into his hold. Surrendering to the comfort and serenity it brought. 

You did not in fact only stay for a few minutes longer. Actually, the situation you found yourself in was so comforting you fell asleep after those few minutes and stayed the whole night. 

By the time morning came, you pried your eyes open, letting them adjust to the small amount of sun creeping in through the window. After a few seconds, you registered the different position from when you fell asleep. You were face to face with Bucky as his arm lazily draped over you, keeping you close. 

You studied his features, mere inches away from you. He had an essence of calm you didn’t see often. There were many times you saw his normal hardened expression soften; but this just seemed different. He looked so at peace and secure. 

It was while you were observing every little detail of him you noticed his breathing change. It was a subtle disturbance in the rise and of his chest, but you saw it. 

You looked at him confused before deciding to test your theory. You lightly traced your hand over his arm and watched his closed eyes move.

“I know you’re faking.” 

No response. 

“Bucky, I know you’re awake.” You tried not to giggle as you attempted to call his attention again. 

A small smile danced on his face as he opened his eyes. 

“Liar,” you playfully accused.

“Cheater.” 

You pointed a finger at him, “Wrong, I did not use my powers.” 

His cheeky expression softened the longer he looked at you. “You didn’t leave,” he stated the obvious. It was his way of asking why. 

“I fell asleep.” 

Technically it wasn’t lying. You fell asleep. You just left out a few key details. 

An awkward silence hung in the air, waiting for one of you to break it. Instead you both let it linger for a moment longer. Bucky released his hold on you and you carefully backed away and got out of his bed. 

“I should probably go,” you stated while fixing your sleep clothes and avoiding his gaze

As you tried to leave, he sat up and called out your name, stopping you in your tracks as you reached for the door handle. You turned back to him, his stare left you feeling exposed, like an open wound. 

“I really appreciate you doing this,” he thanked with quiet vulnerability. His tone reached out and pulled at your heartstrings. 

“I’m glad I could help and that you finally got some sleep,” you returned sweetly. 

Bukcky’s hand fidgeted with the sheets, “It did help, a lot.” He couldn’t quite grasp the right words he wanted to say. 

“If you ever need me, just ask,” you offered sincerely. 

A fond expression crossed his face, “I won’t hesitate.” 

You felt your cheeks start to heat up and quickly turned to leave. The short walk back to your room left your palms sweaty and heart racing. 

It was so silly how much he had an effect on you. And it only got worse in the days following the night you spent together in his room. 

All day long, your thoughts would be consumed by him. Like he had you under some magic spell and no matter how hard you tried to break free of it, you were left staring back at your own longing. 

It started to become addicting. His attention. His affection. Him 

It had been days since you spent the night. You were suffering from withdrawals and needed a fix. 

And it didn’t help when one evening you were woken up by daunting dreams that kept you awake all night. You desperately wanted to seek out comfort from him, but instead you laid in your bed alternating between staring at the ceiling or the back of your eyelids. 

The questions bounced back and forth in your mind. Would he even be awake at this hour? Would he let you stay? Even though you were 100% willing to help him, would he be willing to help you?

You were starting to get restless. Turning around in bed you checked the time on your phone. An hour of tossing and turning had gone by and still you were no closer to falling asleep. 

With a sigh of defeat, you got out of bed and snuck down the hall. For a second there was no response to your knock. You almost gave up after your first attempt and left, but the door opened and you were met with blue eyes. Those blue eyes you could swim in.

He said your name in a raspy voice, indicating he was in fact previously asleep. You were already starting to regret your decisions. 

He looked at you confused, “what’s up?” 

Your hands played with the hem of your sleep shirt. The words were stuck in your throat with no way out. 

He noticed the hesitation in you immediately. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Did I wake you up?” you asked, ignoring his own question. 

“No.” 

“Liar,” you accused with a hint of humor.

He tried to resist smiling, but you caught the corners of his mouth lifted up. 

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” he asked, leaning against the door frame. It took all of your strength to not look him up and down as he did it. Of course he had to be shirtless, again. 

“Can’t sleep,” you offered quietly as you folded your arms. “I uh, I know this might sound dumb, but I wanted to ask if- if we could-” 

“Yes.” 

You froze in response to his interruption. 

“Really?” 

He nodded, “Really. And It’s not dumb.”

The tight fists you didn’t realize you were holding loosened. 

“Thanks,” you said more bashfully than you intended. 

“Do you want to sleep here or in your room?” 

You honestly didn’t care at this point where you were. 

You just wanted to be with him. 

“We can stay here, I don’t mind.” 

He nodded and welcomed you into his room. Your eyes trailed to his bed, it looked slept in this time. There were no pillows or blankets on the ground. That brought a bit of relief to you that he was comfortable sleeping in a bed again.

“Nightmare?” He asked, fixing the pillows on the bed from their messy position.

”Yeah.” 

“Well, I may not have any of your fancy magic, but I’ll help the best I can.” 

“Wanda’s the one with magic.” 

He deadpanned at you, but you could tell he found you amusing because of the glint in his eyes and the tiny smirk he couldn’t hide. 

You lightly smacked his arm- the real one or else you would break a finger- and walked to the other side of the bed. “C’mon, you know I appreciate your help.” 

He quietly chuckled as you both settled into bed. 

That turned into a common occurrence. At least once a week, one of you would have trouble sleeping and end up in the other person's room. 

But it wasn’t just your sleeping habits. There was a significant change between you and Bucky. 

It was unspoken, but present. The bond between you was stronger now. You were closer, figuratively and physically. 

The both of you seeked out the other more often. When in group settings, you always sat next to each other. Even offering small subtle touches of affection, like your hand on his arm or his hand on your back. He sat so much closer to you when you spent time together in the lounge. 

The team had definitely noticed this change in your and Bucky’s behavior. As the weeks passed, most of them tried to clue in on what was going on between you two. Anytime they brought it up, you both tried to avoid the subject and shoot down their questions. 

While you did soak up every little bit of this new bond you shared, it also started to drive you to the brink of insanity. As your bond grew, so did your feelings. 

Every touch, every glance, every word shared between you was feeding the yearning that ate away at your heart. 

It was borderline mean how he would rest his head on your shoulder when you’d be watching a movie and easily fall asleep against you. Or when you would rest your head on him and his arm would sneak around your shoulders. It was sickening how he let you ruffle his hair- meanwhile if someone like Sam or Clint even came close to his hair- they’d lose a hand. It was torture when in an effort to stop you from overexerting yourself, he threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing and carried you out of the gym to get some rest. It was evil how he would poke your warm skin with his cool metal hand to watch you jump in surprise. 

It was painful being so close to him yet feeling so far away.

You desperately wanted more. Wanted to tell him how important he is to you. That you’d do anything for him to make sure he was safe and happy. How you’d fight off any nightmares he had with your bare fists if it meant he could sleep peacefully. Tell him that he was one of the most handsome men you’d ever met and you would kiss him till you couldn’t breathe if he’d let you.

You needed him to know that when you looked at him you saw your safe space. That no other person has made you feel so content and at home. That he was the only person who you could lay next to and feel safe enough to let yourself sleep. 

But instead you kept that all to yourself. Letting it fester like a wound inside of you. 

Because one too many times after a sweet intimate moment you shared, he would almost close in on himself. It was subtle, but you would always catch it. 

There would be this look in his eyes when he left your bedroom in the morning. His eyes would melt with melancholy for a few brief seconds. Or right after you pointed out the serenity of your closeness while casually spending time together and his posture would stiffen or he’d become less talkative. 

So, you never brought it up. Instead you existed in the space between friends and more than friends. 

“They look so cozy,” Yelena commented as she observed from afar. 

Sam stepped closer to get a better view of what she was seeing. From where they stood in the kitchen, they could see you and Bucky on the couch. You had both fallen asleep. The movie you had previously turned on was still playing in the background. His face was buried in your neck and his arms were wrapped around your middle. One of your arms lazily draped around him keeping him close. 

“Yeah, a little too cozy,” he teased. 

“God will they just kiss already?” She joked walking back to the kitchen island where Steve and Wanda were cooking. 

Sam looked at her like she had four heads. 

“Wait, I thought they were sleeping together.”

Wanda shook her head, “No, I don't think they’ve made it that far yet.”

“What are you talking about? I saw him leave her room at like 7 am yesterday. How would you know they haven’t even kissed yet?” 

“You can just tell,” Wanda answered without even looking up from chopping vegetables. 

Sam crossed his arms, “Okay, how?”

Yelena pointed towards the couple in question as she spoke. “He’s still holding back.” 

Sam looked at her in disbelief, “His face is in her neck. You call that holding back?” 

The two women shushed him as his voice accidentally raised in volume. Sam turned around to take a peek at the living room and make sure you were still asleep. And more importantly, not listening. 

Yelena shrugged back at him, “I don’t know how to explain it Sam. There’s something in the way he acts around her.” 

“Not that it’s bad,” Wanda interjected. “It just seems like he’s scared of something.” 

Sam turned his attention to Steve who had still yet to comment on the matter. 

“What about you?” Sam asked him. “Did he tell you anything?” 

Steve glanced up from the counter and his gaze landed on the scene many feet away from them.

“I know he’s sweet on her.” 

Sam rolled his eyes, “Well obviously.” 

Steve cracked a smile at his friend. He lowered his voice, careful to not wake the couple in question, “I asked when he was gonna ask her out. He told me she wouldn’t want someone like him.”

“That’s complete bullshit,” Yelena argued as she sat on a stool and stole a chopped vegetable from Wanda’s cutting board. 

Steve shook his head and returned to preparing dinner. “I told him. He wouldn’t listen.” 

Steve didn’t know exactly what was going on in his best friend's head. But one thing he did know was that Bucky didn’t think he was deserving of love. 

“Well he needs a wakeup call.” Sam snatched a vegetable from Wanda’s cutting board as she swatted him away. 

Two hours later, the kitchen was abandoned. Dishes in the sink and leftovers, for the “love birds” as Clint called you, in the fridge. 

You and Bucky were still asleep on the couch. By now, one of your many roommates turned off the tv. 

You don’t remember when you fell asleep, who fell asleep first, or how you ended up in this position. But you woke up with a painful feeling in your chest. 

It snuck up on you. Like one of those dreams where all is well and then suddenly you're falling and it startles you awake. 

Only this was worse. 

A lot worse. 

This feeling was familiar. Waking up from a nightmare. You were no stranger to it. Yet this time it felt different. It felt foreign. This fear wasn’t coming from your own dreams. 

Except, you didn’t realize that when you woke up. All you could think about in your freshly awakened state was the pain. The terror and guilt had wrapped around your chest like barbed wire and choked you. 

You saw it. 

You didn’t mean to. You didn’t go looking for it. It found you because it was so powerful. His feelings were so strong, so painful that they seeped into you from his touch. And what followed were the images of his nightmare.

You watched the dream from Bucky’s point of view. The setting was blurry. You were indoors with no windows. Maybe some kind of cellar. It was dark, but light enough that you could make out who you were fighting. 

Yourself. 

The first thing you noticed was the difference in his arm. It was chrome with a red star on his shoulder instead of the black and gold vibranium. He was wearing all black tactical gear and a black mask. 

You were fighting the Winter Soldier.

As the fight continued, you grew weaker. You managed to hold your own against him, but his brute strength and endurance were catching up with you. He wasn’t holding back. Your strength was weakening the more you blocked off his attacks. 

With a small blade, he sliced your arm before you kneed him and knocked the knife to the ground. He managed to anticipate your next move and kicked you in the abdomen, causing you to slam back into the wall behind you. 

You hunched over in pain, struggling to breathe. He stalked towards you and slammed you against the wall. His metal arm wrapped around your throat and held you in the air. You choked for breath but couldn’t take one. From his eyes, you watched tears streamed down your own face and lips mouth a silent plea. 

“James please.” 

Seconds later your eyes fell and your body went limp. 

A gasp left you as you were brought back to the present. Back in your own body. 

Seconds later you felt movement and the man next to you woke up. 

Bucky was in shambles. He quickly sat up on the couch, panting quick weak breaths. His hands were trembling as he gripped the couch cushion. His metal fingers dug into it so hard you were worried he would rip the fabric. 

His eyes were the worst to take in from the sight in front of you. They were bloodshot, glassy, and full of panic as they scanned his surroundings. 

You reached forward and placed your hands on his face. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t think to use your powers. You almost didn’t want to after what you accidentally witnessed. 

“Hey, hey you’re okay. You’re okay. I’m fine,” you cooed to him. This didn’t help him at all. His face was still struck with horror. 

“James, look at me.” This caught his attention. His eyes landed on yours and you watched a tear fall down his cheek and felt it land on your hand. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe, I’m safe,” You comforted while stroking his face with your thumbs. 

His eyes darted over your face as he recognized you were there. You were tangible. 

You were alive. 

Bucky dove forward and engulfed you in a hug. His hold on you was tight, like he was scared you wouldn’t be there if he let go. 

His quick movements took you by surprise and almost knocked the wind out of you. After a few seconds, you relaxed against his hold and rested your arms around his neck. Your hand weaved its way into his hair. You felt his tense muscles start to ease at the feeling. 

“I thought I-“ he stuttered, voice still frail. 

“I know, I’m fine baby I’m right here.” You didn’t mean to let the term of endearment slip out. You hoped he wouldn’t dwell on it. 

And for a moment you were worried he did. There was no response from him for longer than you liked. 

Until he nervously asked, “did you see that?” 

You let out a small sigh, knowing the guilt would tear him apart. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I promise. It was just so … strong,” you apologized while your fingers dug in his hair as a way to comfort him. 

“I couldn’t … I couldn’t stop myself,” he whimpered. His hold on you tightened.   

“It wasn’t real. I know you would never hurt me.”

He whispered so quietly you wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t so close. His voice sounded fragile and small. “What if one day I did?” 

“But what if you didn’t?”

You heard a sniffle followed by a long pause. It seemed like he was calming down because his breathing started to even out and slow down. 

You continued to play with his hair until he finally released his hold on you. When you separated he quickly wiped at his wet eyes.  

“I’m sorry,” he muttered with guilt etched on his face. 

“For what?” 

“For scaring you. That you had to see that.” 

The surprise of his apology hit like a brick to your temple. 

Bucky was the one who had the terrifying nightmare that brought up his trauma from Hydra. He just watched the winter soldier kill someone he cared about. But you are his main concern. He’s more worried about you accidentally being a witness to it. He’s more concerned about you being scared than his own fear. 

If he wasn’t reeling from what he just saw you would’ve punched his arm for apologizing. But tough love wasn’t what he needed right now. 

“You don’t have to apologize for that. It’s not your fault.” You’d repeat it like a mantra to him until he believed you. “The only thing that scares me is seeing you like this,” you comforted with a soft voice. 

There was a small look of relief in his eyes, but not enough to show that he was fully convinced. 

Silence grew between you. As time stretched, you thought more about his nightmare. Your curiosity was growing and it needed to be answered. You needed to know if your suspicions were correct. 

“Can I ask you about it?” you asked cautiously. 

There was a brief pause before he nodded. 

“Was that like the nightmare you had a while ago? The one I helped you with.”

His eyes couldn’t quite reach yours. He looked down with a pained expression and swallowed before letting out a quiet whisper. “Yes.” 

The ache in your stomach tripled at his meek reply. Flashes of that night bounced in your head. The tremble in his voice, the panic on his face. How he practically came running to your room after he woke up. He’d been having nightmares for days, but that night specifically he needed to see you. 

You thought of the terrified reaction he had to the idea of you erasing the memory of the nightmare. Because if you erased it, that meant you would’ve seen your own death. 

You would’ve seen him killing you. 

“You’re not usually in my nightmares. That was the first time I ever saw something like that. It’s been eating away at me ever since.” Bucky explained, still not looking you in the eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, you noticed he did that a lot when he was nervous. 

His earlier question rang in your ears as realization dawned on you. 

“What if one day I did?”

You sat up straighter and leaned closer to him. “It was a nightmare. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore,” you comforted in a gentle voice. 

“I know but—” his eyes squeezed shut as the words he was trying to say got stuck in his throat. “I’m scared that it’s still a part of me. I’m scared that somehow it’ll all come back. And I could never live with myself if I ever hurt you.” 

Things were starting to fall into place and suddenly make sense in your mind. This had to be why he kept close to you but somehow still at arms length. 

He wouldn’t allow himself to fully enjoy your embrace in fear of getting too close and hurting you. He didn’t want to bring his frightening past with him and let it poison your life. 

“Buck,” you whispered to make sure he was listening. 

Bucky’s eyes opened back up and finally met yours. They were still red, glossy and full of fear. 

It was now or never. You needed him to know. 

“I trust you. More than I’ve trusted anyone in a long time.” 

You placed a hand on his cheek and gently caressed his face. Instinctively, he leaned into your touch. It seemed like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.

“I feel safe when I’m around you. I don’t think there was ever a time I felt like I was in danger with you in any way. That's why I want to be near you or why I seek you out when I can’t sleep.” You let out a gentle chuckle before your next words, “Hell, I can sleep next to you. Do you know how big of a deal that is to me? For me to feel safe enough to fall asleep in the same bed as someone else.” 

He resisted the urge to smile. He looked like he desperately wanted to believe you, but the darkness had a chokehold on him and wouldn’t loosen. 

You needed to dig deeper. 

“Are you afraid of me?” you asked in a serious tone. “Afraid of what I can do with my powers when I touch you?” 

His expression fell with absolute bewilderment, “No, of course not.”

“Then why would I be afraid of you?” 

Bucky momentarily froze as he realized the point you were making. He shook his head unconvinced, “That’s not the same.” 

“Is it really?” you insisted. “You said it yourself, you trust me. You barely knew me and you trusted that I wouldn’t hurt you.”

He muttered your name, about to counteract you, but you gently cut him off. 

“No, listen.” You grabbed his hand in yours. The warmth from your hand started to seep into the cool metal. 

“You would never hold the things I did at Hydra against me. Why should I do the same to you?” 

It seemed like you were getting through to him the way his jaw clenched. He wanted to argue back, but he couldn’t. 

“I’m not scared of you. I never was.” you spoke with determination in each breath. You needed the words to sink in.

“When I look at you I don’t see the winter soldier. I see a kind man who cares so deeply about people. I see someone who even though he shows a tough exterior, is secretly a huge softy. And a sucker for physical affection even if he doesn’t want to admit it.” 

That made him chuckle. He almost appeared sheepish the way he looked at you in return.

“I need you to get it through your thick skull that you’re important to me. You mean so much to me and you don’t even realize it,” your hold on his hand tightened as your heart poured out into his grasp. 

Bucky sat there quietly. Wide pupils staring back at you as he took in what you said. His bright blue eyes appeared almost incandescent. 

His other hand found its way on your thigh. The feeling of his hand on you had butterflies swarming in your stomach and your face heating up. You were used to his touch by now, but this felt so much more intimate than anything you’d ever done. 

“Ya know, when I had that nightmare for the first time and I asked you to help me fall asleep, I didn’t really need you to use your powers on me,” he confessed. His hand traveled up and down your thigh as he spoke. 

“I just needed to make sure you were okay. I couldn’t go back to sleep without knowing you were safe.” 

He started to lean closer to you. The distance between you was slowly dwindling as he continued. 

“You mean the world to me doll,” he said softly. His voice dripping with devotion. 

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” 

You closed the space between you and him and rested your forehead against his. 

“I’m right here. I’m all in. The good, the bad, I don’t care. I want all of you.“

Bucky's metal hand reached up to cradle your face. Your cheeks were so flushed and warm, the cold metal sent chills down your body. His thumb gently caressed your cheek and ran over your bottom lip.

“Can I-?” he pleaded in a low voice. 

Of course he would be a gentleman and ask. Even when his lips were mere inches away and you were like putty in his hands. 

“Just kiss me James,” you breathed desperately. 

He didn’t waste a second. He tiled your face up towards him and his soft lips collided with yours in an instant. You were practically melting in his hold. 

Your mind was going fuzzy. You couldn’t think of anything other than the feeling of his lips against yours as he hopelessly tried to mold to you. Your hands found purchase around his neck and in his hair, trying to pull him closer. 

He sighed and smiled against your lips. His hand that was on your thigh traveled up and gripped your waist. 

Neither of you knew how much time had passed. I seemed like time stood still until you heard someone enter the deadly silent living room and gasp. 

You quickly pulled away from each other at the sound to find Wanda trying to hold back a smile. Bucky and you sat like deer in headlights staring at her. 

“Get a room you two. I know you use them,” she teased before retreating into the hallway. 

As she left, you turned to Bucky and saw his face was bright red matching yours. 

“Oh god,” you chuckled, leaned forward and hid your face in his neck. 

He reached up and ran his hand up and down your back. “You wanna go somewhere more private?” he whispered close to your ear. 

You leaned back to face him again. “Why? You want to kiss me more?” you asked with a cheeky smile.

He offered you a smug grin as his eyes darted between your lips and your eyes. 

“Babygirl, I never wanna stop kissing you.”

[rotteneldritchhorror]

okay guys i desperately need you to learn how to add additional tags

[ao3org]

On Your Left! — Changes to Captain America Fandom Tags

Hello! In the near future, Marvel tag wranglers will be updating fandom tags on AO3 to separate the upcoming Captain America movies featuring Sam Wilson as Captain America from the trilogy of films with Steve Rogers as Captain America.

To do this, we will be renaming the fandom Captain America (Movies) to Captain America (Chris Evans Movies) and creating a new fandom named Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies). Both will be made subtags of Marvel Cinematic Universe and Captain America - All Media Types.

In summary:

Captain America (Chris Evans Movies) will refer to the 2011, 2014, and 2016 movies featuring Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, and Bucky Barnes. 

Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies) will refer to the 2025 movie Brave New World featuring Sam Wilson and Joaquín Torres. This fandom tag will also refer to any sequel Captain America movies starring Sam Wilson in the title role.

Fans interested in reading about both movie series can include both Marvel Cinematic Universe and Captain America - All Media Types in tag filtering. The current fandom tag for The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), which is a subtag of Marvel Cinematic Universe but not Captain America - All Media Types, will also be unaffected by these changes. We’ve included more details of our reasoning below, which better explains why we’re making this change.

Why are you making two separate fandom tags? Can’t everyone just keep using “Captain America (Movies)”?

Despite both having the superhero name “Captain America” and the same continuity, fundamentally the main character has changed between the original trilogy and the new 2025 movie. We also wanted to hopefully make it easier for fans to differentiate between which movies and continuities they’re discussing. Many Sam Wilson fans will likely want to filter for the movie where he’s the central focus; conversely, many Steve Rogers fans will likely want to filter out movies where he doesn’t appear. 

We’re specifically using “Chris Evans” and “Anthony Mackie” in the fandom tags as they’re the most recognizable and consistent aspect of the movies. There’s no consistent set of directors between all Chris Evans Captain America movies, and actor names are much more recognizable than including multiple years in the fandom tags. This style of making fandom tags named after actors is similar to other fandoms on AO3. For example, there are many James Bond movie fandom tags which differentiate via the actors’ names. 

The Marvel Cinematic Universe is also not the only time Captain America has been adapted to the big screen: there’s a 1944 movie starring Dick Purnell, a 1979 movie starring Reb Brown, and a 1990 movie starring Mat Salinger. The current fandom tag Captain America (Movies) is worded in a way that technically encompasses these unrelated movies as well. It doesn’t make sense for these unrelated continuities to share one fandom tag, so we would have changed the existing Captain America (Movies) tag to be more specific regardless of the release of Brave New World. 

Like we mentioned above, fans interested in reading about both MCU movie series at once can filter for both Marvel Cinematic Universe and Captain America - All Media Types.

Why Mackie Movies instead of Brave New World?

The movie title has already changed several times in between promotion and release. It’s also highly likely Marvel will make sequel movies. Formatting the tag as Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies) prevents the disruption of renaming the fandom tag in the future. 

We will be creating an Additional Tag for Captain America: Brave New World, similar to how there are Additional Tags for Movie: Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) and Movie: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021). We hope the Additional Tag will help fans filter for specific movies within the broader series of movies.

Why does Brave New World get a separate fandom tag while First Avenger, Winter Soldier, and Civil War would still share? 

Captain America: The First Avenger, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, and Captain America: Civil War all encompass the trilogy centering around Steve Rogers. While Captain America: Brave New World is also set in the same continuity, the main character and actor has changed, and the role of Sam Wilson has changed from being a supporting character to the main focus.

It’s likely that Marvel will release sequel movies to Brave New World, which will not receive separate fandom tags and would instead also be covered by the new Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies) tag. We hope that separating the fandom tags now will prevent the messiness of renaming tags again in the future, and also allow fans to filter for works that focus on the specific Captain America they are looking for. 

(From time to time, ao3org posts announcements of recent or upcoming wrangling changes on behalf of the Tag Wrangling Committee.)

[dlxxv-vetted-donations]

Help support Reema's academic career and family

This post will no longer be updated, see here instead.

URGENT: We have 281 hours to get Reema registered in university. Done!!!

My other promotion lists

Updated: Sep 22

Update Sep 20: This campaign is NOT done, Reema is waiting for her campaign manager to raise it to $25,000. A short-term goal is CAD $1,800 for a new laptop (including gfm and banking fees), but this is a projected estimate and I'll have a clearer number when I get more details.

Member(s): @reemash46 (shadowbanned), @reema16 (shadowbanned), @reemagaza (Reema), IG: reema_shurr (confirmed hers, see under cut for proof)

Verification: Operation Olive Branch Masterlist #18

Payment methods: Credit/debit, Paypal through my Kofi (Be warned that Paypal takes a cut. I will post proof of donation within 24h under the 'receipts' tag)

Donation match: $5 CAD (see under cut), $5 CAD

Summary: Reema is an evacuated Palestinian studying pharmacy abroad in Egypt and just paid off her tuition. She needs additional funds to care for herself and her family back home.

Current progress:

CAD $ 15,514 20,051 / 25,000

CAD is weak compared to other common currencies. Your donation can go a long way.

Campaign details:

Reema is the cousin of @mohamedabushaban06 (source). A few days ago, I made an emergency promotion to get Mohammed registered for college abroad here (It's not urgent anymore but he can still use support).

She's a 4th (out of 5) year pharmaceutical student currently studying abroad in Egypt after her school in Gaza was destroyed. Pharmacy school is difficult but she has a high average.

She just fundraised enough to pay her tuition for all her remaining schooling (see fund allocation section) and will start her semester on Sep 21, 2024.

The campaign goal was raised to $25,000 and the additional $5,000 will go towards academic needs and Reema's family back in Palestine.

She needs a new laptop after losing her old one.

Fund allocation:

All the original $20k is for paying off all of Reema's remaining schooling. There was a rush to get her from $15k to $20k to pay off her current semester due to banking complications. Her campaign manager was not in Canada until very recently and could not access the funds already in the campaign.

Even now, the manager can only send $1,500 at a time. At the time of writing this (Sep 22), I'm not sure when Reena can access the $15k and she isn't online often because she has the flu.

MISC:

Sep 10: Donation match $5 CAD

Reema on IG confirms the Tumblr is hers

[oldschoolfic-ds9]

Deep Space Nine: When the Pants Fell

by FyrDrakken, The Goddess, 1996

(Author did not provide a summary. The following is reader provided.) The crew of the Enterprise visits DS9, making new friends, finding new lovers, and joining forces to cause harm to anyone who annoys them.

Words: 4955, Chapters: 5/5, Language: English

Rating: none listed

Warnings: none listed

Characters: DS9 and TNG crews

Relationships: Jadzia Dax/La Forge, Bashir/Deanna Troi, Odo/Kira, Data/OCs, Worf/OCs

Reader suggested tags (what are these?): parody, crossover - Star Trek: The Next Generation, violence, character death

Sequel: Depravity, DS9, and Dancing, by The Goddess [VOY/DS9]

links (link broken? report it and try the archive.org alternative):

ASC newsgroup (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5)

archive.org - option 1 (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5)