#edit: fixed header | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pixiel · 2 years ago

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Old Tumblr Dashboard (Userstyle)!!

I created a Userstyle for the Chrome/Firefox Stylus Extension that reverts the new dashboard to the old look!

You need to have Stylus installed. So if you don't have it:

Install the Stylus Firefox Addon or the Manifest V2 Chrome Extension (You can install Chrome Extensions on Edge as well)

Once it's installed into Firefox/Chrome/Edge you can proceed with adding this style or any other.

To add the style (Stylus), follow the instructions:

Go to this link: https://userstyles.world/style/11286/old-tumblr-dashboard-userstyle (If it says 'style not found' then the Userstyle.world server is just down, try again in an hour)

Click on "install".

Style will open a tag with it and in the left side you'll have a button that says "install style", click there. (Step-by-step copied from the lovely dorothyoz39 who wrote this in a reply!) If you don't want the sticky header you can remove the labelled script at the top of the css below /* Sticky Header*/

For Manifest V3 only Chrome Or Stylus incompatible browsers:

For Chrome Manifest V3 install the Tampermonkey Extension

Then add the Tampermonkey Backup Script instead of the Stylus version

https://greasyfork.org/en/scripts/492279-old-tumblr-dasboard-backup I highly recommend you switch to Firefox for continued use of good extensions! Stylus does not have a V3 update yet; however, the tamermonkey script works just as good.

Be sure to check for updates regularly and if you'd like, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi https://ko-fi.com/pixiel !

I'm currently taking donations so I can afford a much-needed wheelchair, so please check out my GoFundMe for more details! Any Ko-Fi donations will be added manually to the GoFundMe

..::::HOW TO UPDATE::::..

click the Manage button on Stylus and click the check for update button next to the userstyle, then click again to install!

Make sure to check the Userstyle and see if the version number matches the one below if you don't see any changes!

NEW UPDATE: 10/07/25 (D/M/Y) 06:25AM BST v17.14

16.16: Fixed activity and notifications, they now look like the previous version 17.0: Final update to the new icons bs! Every page should be functional. If theres any missed parts or bugs - let me know! 17.9: Minor fixes and Tampermonkey update! 17.14: Temp fix for tumblr mistake with the reblog replies! You can also fix the positioning of the Communities button and subnav from this menu as well - it should remember your settings when you update!

Tumblr Post Width & More (OTD+ Userstyle) Is now available!!

OTD+ is an add on for Old Tumblr dashboard that you can use to edit the Post Width, Content Positioning & More - It must be used with Old Tumblr Dashboard installed as well on the latest update! This style might be merged with OTD in the future.

THE CREATOR OF THIS USERSTYLE SUPPORTS THEIR TRANS SISTERS. WE'RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER!

Check the readmore for the changelog, custom code & known issues!

----- Known issues:

Only two columns in Masonry view. Semi-Unfixable, Tumblr creates columns based on monitor size, if I try adding another column (because it doesn't exist) it just perpetually loads on screen. Semi-fix: Zoom out in chrome/firefox and it adds more columns, you may need to change the font size of the page though

Search bar doesn't appear on some pages (like viewing a post), this is because Tumblr removed the search bar on those pages completely. Unfixable but not a big deal

Tumblr has ONCE AGAIN CHANGED THE ACCOUNTS MENU. The menus are now shorter and have less information on them. This is unfortunately permanent. I do not see any way to fix this. Unfixable.

If you want people's icons to stay fixed in place, instead of scrolling with the dashboard change this in Stylus;

Or if you're using the tampermonkey version

Find text:

.NLCTe > div.Evcyl > div > div > .So6RQ.YSitt > .ge_yK > .c79Av > article > header > .RYkKH > .nZ9l5 { pointer-events: auto; top: 55px; transition: top .25s; position: -webkit-sticky; position: sticky; } and replace it with;

.NLCTe > div.Evcyl > div > div > .So6RQ.YSitt > .ge_yK > .c79Av > article > header > .RYkKH > .nZ9l5 { pointer-events: auto; top: 0px; transition: top .25s; position: absolute; }

Solved issues: (Update)

Menus need to be manually closed SOLVED! in V.4 and updated in V.5! The menu & icon WILL scroll with you if you have removed the sticky header CSS, however, clicking anywhere on screen will make the Menu disappear still.

Masonry view in searches is now fixed!

Resized Messenger Chat Box!

NEW UPDATE 16/08/23, 23:55 BST v6.5: Figured out how to reorganise the icons in the header. Let me know if you have any problems with it and make sure to update your Userstyle! Some icons are hidden with Display: Block; you can hide more icons with this method!

Solved issues p2

Brought back SOME of the icons for Tumblrs latest update - Unfortunately, this does not bring back user icons for Reblogged posts! Make sure to yell at Tumblr for removing the icons as well as the horrible dashboard update here! v7.5 Fixed icons for all posts and put them back where they came from!

v6.9.6.9 (I promise this is the last funny number): Fuck Off Buggy The Clown Update + All languages support for the old header design!

v7.0: Fixed the search bar for tumblrs new collections feature, so it looks like the original search bar!

v8.0: Fixed masonry view icons, hidden the reblog icon on dashboard icons, fixed icons in blog viewport

V8.1: Fixed issue with icons not working on soft-refresh & with endless scrolling disabled - be sure to complain to staff!

v9.3: Changed a few things with the search feature, I also made the posts less round.

UPDATE2 11/04/2024: SO We mighhtttt have overrun their servers. 😅 I'm getting a 500 Internal Server Error every time I try to fix it or upload it as a new style - the massive influx of people downloading the userstyle was probably too much. The Tampermonkey backup on Greasyfork works just fine though! Probably easier for a lot of people migrating anyway! UPDATE 11/04/2024:: My code has broken on Userstyles.world, (it is now fixed as of 12/04/24) until this is fixed I have created a Tampermonkey Backup Version of the Userstyle so feel free to use this version if you've broken yours!

https://greasyfork.org/en/scripts/492279-old-tumblr-dasboard-backup

v9.6: Moved the Following | For you | Your Tags to below the create a post panel. Fixed the Accounts Menu! + Bugfixes V10.3: Patio compatibility. Added a way to hide the Patio button & "patio feedback?" button, just search for patio in the code and follow the instructions! v11.0: Temporary Chat feature fix after Tumblr broke it, fixed some positioning issues and j/k scrolling!

v12.3: Fixed a text issue (my bad!), I undid the changes to the replies function and added a way to fix icons order for when you get the communities update!

v12.5: Update to make compatible with the Content Positioning using Tumblr Post Width & More (OTD+ Userstyle) v12.6: Post buttons fixed, icons unable to be fixed yet as I haven't got the tumblr changes just yet - but I will fix them asap!

v11.7: Communities Update, changed the new search bar on communities page to resemble the old one. The search bar still doesn't work on these pages yet for some reason. Blog view icons fixed. v13.0: The icons change should now have a working patchfix! BIG THANK YOU to arcadian-asgardian for sending me the screenshots I needed and testing if it worked. + Minor tweak, communities button resized to fit the rest of the icons better v13.2: Mini fixes now that I have better access to the new changes! Communities icon re-centered, usernames nudged back into place.

V13.5 & v13.7: Nuked the Go Premium button - Re-positioned the search bar on search pages v13.10: Changed a lot of the new look for replies - it's not perfect yet mind. Small bug with the "..." menu moving to the left with shorter replies. Looks a lot more like the old replies section though! Made it possible to remove the reply to reply button just search for "NEW Replies UI" in the userstyle and remove the /* */ around "display: none" OR use Ublock to block the element! v14.1: Reverted the "Original Poster" border + text to look like old version. Edit: Whoops, fixed an issue with showing the timestamps

v13.4: Added a way to fix the communities icon position if you don't have the New Xkit button or have hidden any of the icons. Just remove the highlighted /* */ pair in the code for what you need.

v14.11: Made Premium Perks button available in the bottom left corner for all premium users v15.2: Fixed the Tumblr fuckup AND added a cool new feature that allows you to customise the look of your header & hide the reply-to-replies button if you like, here's how to customise this. Set to "Block" if you want the button/icon visible, Set to "None" if you want it hidden! V15.5: Given labels to options for clarity - now says 'show' or 'hide'!

v15.9: The Boopdate! V16.0: Fixed Search view pages and made them look normal, unfortunately, I can't bring back the dropdown menus for "top"/"All Time" etc - but it should look more like the original now

v16.3: Minor tweaks to make search pages look better

16.10: Fix changes to the notification icons 16.14: Fixed many issues with Tampermonkey Version - including a bug that makes the header go weird when you click on a post, fixed notification icons in small view

16.16: Fixed activity and notifications, they now look like the previous version

16.26: TEMPORARY UPDATE - only changes some aspects of the dashboard - THIS IS FULLY INCOMPLETE AND I AM WORKING ON A FULL FIX FOR THE REST OF THE SITE EDIT: added changes for timestamps!

#tumblr #dashboard #tumblr dashboard #stylus #stylish #userstyles #userstyle #long post

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changeling-droneco · 11 months ago

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Hi I'm that person who made the original post about "no doesn mean no" when a small bit of the mr beast company document was leaked, well, now we have the full document (thanks rosanna) so I'm going to go over it. Please note I am not a lawyer or a business man, I'm in college for psychology, so I might misunderstand some things or make the wrong conclusion. However, if this is a document made for the average mr. beast employee, if I cannot understand it properly, then im sure some employees also struggled

First of all, the opening paragraph. Like I get it's supposed to be like, to put people at ease, but

This is so strange? Like, first of all, this is your EMPLOYEE MANUAL, you should have run it through like, a spell check? Or had someone edit it? This is already incredibly unprofessional. Also the promising of a thousand dollars if you pass a quiz on it? It's bizarre and I'd love to see if it's an actual quiz.

Jimmy, hun, please god get an editor for this you're already trying my patience.

YOU SHOULD, you genuinely should, while interconnected these are all COMPLETELY different jobs, if you think you could write a separate manual for each branch you SHOULD

I'm sure I'm about to get an answer but what the fuck is the best YOUTUBE video then? If it's not comedy, its not production, its not quality, its not look, then what the hell is left? (monetization, it's monetization)

First of all, Jimmy, why are you using internet lingo in this, it's not a text message, this is not a place for, idc, and lol, and not capitalizing your headers correctly??? Also like I said, he's chasing trends for monetization, and also he's just wrong, there are plenty of hollywood level shows and the like on youtube. You fully admit you do not care about trends and actively rush things?

This is just fucked??? Like of COURSE IT MATTERS??? Results based company is bullshit, your employees that worked for five weeks and failed aren't "lesser" then James, it's a structural failure! They still worked for HOURS to try and succeed?? That shows merit and loyalty??? What the fuck???

Rosanna covers this one in her video but it's worth restating that this is FUCKED??? It's clear overwork "your job is your family" culture. Especially the use of the word obsessive? If you do not OBSESS over your work, you are considered poisonous. NO WONDER we have so many reports of employees doing things they feel is dangerous or unsafe, if they don't they're considered POISON to the company.

The formatting in this doc continues to fucking kill me, what are you DOING man GET AN EDITOR

This feels like such an easy fix of just...make the thumbnail after the fact? Or only make a rough draft of one first? Like if production makes a red bouncy castle instead of a yellow one, that feels like an easy fix to the thumbnail OR a communication error, and again, that's on management

A lot of the next stuff is like analytics stuff that for the most part I can't really speak on as someone who does not do any of this stuff. There are a few things though

Which like???? what??? a lull??? what do you mean "watching a video without even realizing they are watching a video??" That doesn't scream good or even mediocre content to me. If I'm actively tuning out as I watch a video, that's bad. Especially because there have been plenty of times I've been like half way through a video i go "hey this sucks actually" and click off. They actively want their audience to not be paying attention to the video so it runs all the way through, that's kinda pathetic.

I don't actually know if this is common or not in this industry, but as an outsider this seems INCREDIBLY micromanaging to me, to an immense degree.

Jimmy why are you putting swears in your employee manual?? sir??? and also something about this whole thing icks me out, I don't quite have the words but the whole emphasis on "im different im special no one else can be me" just reeks of something kind of manipulative

Why is production changing so much Jimmy??? Infinite growth is the mindset of a cancer cell Jimmy! This is incredibly unstable working conditions! Also again with the word obsession, if you take time out of your own day on your own time to watch hulu, that's seen as not being obsessed enough for the company. This is nonsensical!

Again, this is INSANELY micromanaging, and also so fucking unhinged??? "God himself couldn't stop you from making this video on time" is NOT a healthy work mindset, things HAPPEN!!!

In this segment he's actually talking normal things but I did just want to highlight his use of "freaken" who the hell puts that in an EMPLOYEE MANUEL

Again with the micromanaging, and the immense pressure on employees for problems OTHER people do. While he's not fully wrong that you should be in more contact with the contractor then the example, this is too much in the other direction. How much time in the day does he think people have?!

My kingdom for a fucking paragraph break dude, my fucking eyes. Also this is a lot of "im so great and do everything and you should do more for me and if i dont know something that's your fault" for something titled "I am not always right"

I'm getting lazy with my highlighting, but again, the micromanaging? If you're SOOO busy, the first question should be the ideal? it's quick and makes a quick decision, while the second one meanders and meanders

Again, Jimmy is pushing blame for HIS mistakes on OTHER PEOPLE. For again, a section called "i am not always right" hes taking NO accountability for that and just making the SAME excuses he's berating in other places.

I can't even tell what he means here AN EDITOR JIMMY

Autism Hell tm, PLEASE email me so I can DOUBLE CHECK IT, things in writing are SO useful

Again the language towards "C-Players" which as mr beast has said, are the people who y'know, are NORMAL employees who DON'T live and breathe this company

Okay first of all, a Lamborghini is like 300k so that's already A REALLY hard task, and i sure hope don't usually put typos in the tasks. SECOND of all the fact he thinks its okay to go "hey if the studio is literally on fire around you and you stop working to get the Lamborghini, you're not doing good enough" even if he claims it as a joke is NOT OKAY what the FUCK

We've covered this before, but to reiterate this segment is named after a sexual assault reference when it could have been named ANYTHING ELSE and harasses employees and pressures them to break rules, don't do that.

I'm not an editor, so maybe this is normal, but as someone from the outside it seems strange to put this much emphasis on dividing focus between so many videos at once.

Jimmy, hun, are you paying extra for this? Because if I'm an editor and you want me FILMING stuff then i want to be paid more for doing TWO jobs and I probably still wont be as skilled a TRAINED CAMERA MAN

First of all now THAT'S a type, consteatants. Also the fact they are aware that leaving contestants out in the sun is bad, why are you not doing MORE TO STOP IT BEYOND "hey maybe giving them three hours of heatstroke is bad, try only two next time"

Don't we love favoritism, more shitty unprofessional writings, and a completely unstable work environment?

If your people have to pull all nighters period something is wrong, and if something happens to an employees car that could have seriously hurt someone, i sure hope you care more then just "LOL FUNNY" Who's picking up the broken glass? Who's reimbursing the car owner? That one meme of "your first care should be commitment to the bit" is a MEME jimmy, it's not ACTUAL ADVICE

Ah shit I hit image limit, well, you've seen enough screenshots to know these are screenshots, we're almost done I'll put them in as quotes

"Let’s say you are tasked with finding us a castle to live in for 50 hours and while doing research you find a castle and a number to call for the owner. So you do call, and he answers. Only problem is he says he quit the castle renting business to pursue his dream of building a 100 foot tall lego catapult. You can obviously tell where i’m going with this. Ideally you’d recognize that’s badass as fuck and try to convince him to let us use it when we do find a castle. This is a bad example because it’s so obvious but if you’re doing your job right you will be doing an absurd amounts of calls and data collecting. While trying to complete your prios and prepare for the video you should always be on the lookout for new things you can bring to your creative team to inspire them. Because just like me, they don’t know what they don’t know and you can’t just say “i’m in production and i’m not very creative” because that’s literally the equivalent of saying I suck at what I do. You also need to apply this same mindset when problem solving because many people lose sight of this stuff when in the weeds. If a problem appears, always always always ask yourself if your new plan is whats best for creative, not just the easiest bandaid."

First of all it's really funny seeing all the red lines pop up, second of all this insistent blurring of everyone's job seems so strange? Again maybe this is normal, but it really feels like Jimmy wants everyone working every job, instead on focusing on what they are actually hired to do.

"What is the goal of our content?

To excite me. The goal of our content is to excite me. That may sound weird to some of you, especially if you’re new but to me it’s what’s most important. If I'm not excited to get in front of that camera and film the video, it’s just simply not going to happen."

That's fucking weirddddd, like I get that he's trying to be like "im authentic" but it always feels like a bad sign when the goal of a company is literally just "What amuses the boss" like...bad sign

"this is youtube and there are constraints. You know the video can’t be a minute so you’re obviously going to need a story to hold the viewers and there are rules to storytelling. Our audience is massive and because of that you have to be simple, for 50 million people to understand something it must be simple. Content can be anything but there is structure and rules that we must mold it into that I want to teach you about, because virality doesn’t just happen. Every frame of our videos will be seen by 10s of millions of people"

Gross

"I'd say the average MrBeast viewer is a teenage memer that likes video games."

Mr Beast is completely aware of his demographic and puts screen shots of it, he is very aware his stuff is aimed at kids, even when its about gambling or hiring people not around near minors

"I feel silly for having to write this but all the time I talk to 32 new people that have at most seen like 5 or 6 of our videos and it’s mind blowing that they don’t see a problem with that lol."

It's almost like your audience is teenage memer and that people who working here are not in fact, teenage memers.

"What you consume on social media, when you watch youtube, tv, the games you play, etc. are what I like to call your information diet.

How do you stay up to date on the latest memes? How do you know what’s going on with celebrities? What’s trending on youtube? What other creators are doing? What’s popping on tik tok? Your information diet. Consume things on a daily basis that help you write better content."

If my job as a creative writer had my boss tell me to have to see whats "popping on tik tok" as part of my job i'd quit also again, the micromanaging of someone's life as well pops up again, it's weirddd

"It’s okay for the boys to be childish

If talent wants to draw a dick on the white board in the video or do something stupid, let them. (assuming they know all the risks and arn’t missing context on why it’s not safe) People like when we are in our natural element of stupidity. Really do everything you can to empower the boys when filming and help them make content. Help them be idiots"

More favoritism

"If you’ve made it this far you are probably at least semi interested in this being your career. So I wanted to chat about it. Because if you're ambitious and want to dedicate your life to work, you picked the best company in America to do it at. I really don’t care to hoard a bunch of money and I deeply believe in rewarding the people that help this business get where it needs to be. But before I get into that, let’s talk about the future. As I write this we have 2 teams, that will grow to 4 in the next year. (and possibly 8 in the next 2 years but I can’t talk about that cause james will kill me haha). We need more leaders in the company. Weneed hard working, obsessive, coachable, intelligent, grinders that can step up and take some of these leadership spots over the next 2 years. Every single department has an opportunity for you to grow in and you’re in luck because we don’t do yearly reviews. We do whenever the fuck you want reviewes"

Lack of communication from management, and more emphasis on grinding and crunch culture, goodie, all while riddled with typos! God.

"I see a world where this company is worth billions and one day 10s of billions. And those of you that help build this will be rewarded. I want nothing more then for you to go all in, obsessive all day everyday, and become so god dam valuable this company can’t operate without you. And in return for becoming so valuable I hope to give you incredible experiences, a fun place to work, and of course, more money then you could ever dream of making at any other company."

I feel like I'm reading a fucking pyramid scheme document here, "youre so so valuable spend literally every minute of every day on this company haha" good GOD man

#mr beast #rosanna pansino #dogpack404 #jake weddle #this has been three am thoughts

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buckyseternaldoll · 1 month ago

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Five Seconds, Five Years (Part III)

header from: pinterest

✮⋆˙ Part I | Part II

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes proposed just days before the world ended — afraid he might never get another chance. Then he vanished in Wakanda. Five years later, he’s at your door — unchanged, while your whole life has moved on. Some love survives time. But what happens when life doesn’t wait?

Disclaimer: Unexpected emotional reunion, long-term separation and time displacement, vulnerable confessions, hesitation and emotional complexity, mention of Steve Rogers’ peaceful death (old age), post-trauma recovery arc, references to mental health improvement (off-grid healing), rebuilding emotional connection, gentle confrontation of past pain, pure comfort and soft domesticity, post-trauma peace arc, references to past emotional pain and healing. **This story stretches between several timelines in MCU (only loosely, not to be strictly following the year gaps)

Word Count: 4,846

You didn’t usually skip class.

Not after everything it took to get here—the money you scraped together, the fight to stay afloat, the way you had finally started taking your life seriously again.

But this morning felt… wrong.

Off.

You woke up to soft light spilling between the blinds, your duvet tangled around your legs. Your chest felt heavy, like something was sitting on it. A pressure you couldn’t name, just pressing.

Your fingers wrapped around the warm mug of coffee. You sat there in the kitchen nook of your Seoul loft, barely sipping.

Not scrolling.

Not thinking.

Just… sensing something.

A pull in your ribs.

A flutter in your gut.

And when you passed the small flower stall outside the station—the one with handwritten notes tucked into every bundle—that’s when it hit you.

A sign, scribbled in smudged black ink (translated to English):

“March 10—Pisces. Heavy-hearted. Brave. Forgiving.”

Your hands went cold.

Your breath caught.

His birthday.

Of course.

Of course your body remembered even if your calendar didn’t.

—

You didn’t go to class.

Instead, you walked.

Wandered.

Through crooked alleys and boulevards of mid-morning traffic, past the crisp scent of roasted chestnuts and motor oil, past students chattering about exams and café music echoing through glass.

You didn’t want silence.

You wanted noise.

People. Traffic. Motion. Something to drown out whatever this feeling was.

—

Sinchon was perfect for that.

Young people everywhere—students hustling through subway exits, tote bags heavy with books and iced americanos in hand. Girls linking arms, stopping to fix each other’s makeup in compact mirrors. Lines forming outside trendy cafés for limited-edition drinks.

And couples.

God—there were so many couples.

Matching outfits, matching sneakers. Holding hands in crosswalks. Taking selfies by store murals or booking time inside photobooths with sparkly filters and pastel props. You watched one couple fuss over a printout from a four-cut booth, giggling and sticking heart stickers on each other’s cheeks.

It was adorable. It was soft.

It was everything you thought you’d be doing by now.

But it wasn’t you.

And maybe that was the worst part.

You weren’t bitter—not exactly. But the loneliness scraped a little sharper on days like this. When love seemed so visible. So effortless. So normal. And you were just here, floating through a city of warm hands and soft smiles, still trying to remember how to breathe without aching.

Music bled from shopfronts—different rhythms overlapping in the air. Delivery riders zipped past on scooters, navigating the maze of alleyways like it was second nature.

It was loud.

It was full.

It was exactly the kind of place where no one paid attention to anyone else.

You wanted to be anonymous.

You wanted to disappear for just a little while.

—

You turned down the main road—the one just past the movie theater and the underground station exit—and crossed toward the bookstore that had the good imported titles in the back.

You waited at the crosswalk.

You were just one of dozens.

And that’s when you saw him.

—

At first, it was nothing.

Just a shape.

Tall. Broad shoulders under a dark jacket. Face angled down. Hair shorter than you remembered, but unmistakably him.

He turned.

Your heart nearly stopped.

He was leaner now.

Older.

More tired.

But that face—

Still the most handsome thing you’d ever seen.

And those eyes.

Cerulean burn.

That impossible, searing shade of blue you used to trace in the dark, whispering his name into the hollow of his throat. The kind of blue that saw through you. The kind of blue you didn’t forget, no matter how many calendars you turned.

And they were locked on you.

Wide.

Disbelieving.

Like he couldn’t quite trust what he was seeing.

Like maybe he thought you were the ghost.

You couldn’t breathe.

Your fingers curled at your sides.

Your mouth parted.

You didn’t even realize you were shaking until a warm gust of wind brushed against your cheek, and the world tilted.

The crosswalk light turned green.

The city surged forward.

People began to walk.

But Bucky?

He ran.

Straight into the street.

Straight through the crowd.

Eyes never leaving yours.

A delivery bike honked and veered, a girl shrieked with laughter nearby, someone cursed in Korean under their breath—and still he kept coming.

Like the world had fallen away.

Like he had waited too long to take one more step.

Like he didn’t believe in anything until he saw you again.

—

You didn’t know how you moved.

One second he was across the street, running.

The next, he was right there.

Close enough to breathe in.

Close enough to touch.

Close enough that you forgot every reason you were supposed to be okay without him.

“Bucky—”

Your voice cracked. Your lungs caught fire. You barely got his name out.

His expression was everything at once—relief, disbelief, joy so raw it looked almost painful.

And then he pulled you into him.

The hug broke you.

Not with sobs. Not with words. Just… with the sheer, overwhelming familiarity of it.

His arms.

Strong as ever.

The same way they used to wrap around you at night when the world felt too loud.

One hand against your spine, the other curling at the back of your head.

His scent.

God—it hadn’t changed.

Still that grounding mix of cedar, worn cotton, and something warm and his that clung to your hoodie like a memory that never really faded.

You buried your face in his chest.

And for a second, you forgot everything.

Forgot the years.

Forgot the pain.

Forgot that you were no longer lovers. No longer engaged.

Just two bodies clinging to the only truth that had ever made sense—this.

—

The hug lingered longer than it should have.

And when he finally pulled back, his hands still rested lightly on your arms.

He looked at you like someone who needed to double-check that you were real.

“Are you—are you travelling here?” he asked, almost shy.

You blinked at him.

Then smiled. A little broken. A little whole.

“No,” you said, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I live here now.”

“You—what?”

“I moved here. Started over. Enrolled in a language program. Fourth month in.”

His mouth parted in quiet awe.

“You did it,” he said. “You actually chased that dream.”

“You used to tease me for crying over Korean dramas.”

“I stand by it,” he smirked. “The amount of chicken and beer scenes alone—”

“Don’t you dare slander it,” you laughed, hand half-swatting his shoulder.

“God, I missed this.”

Your smile faltered. Just for a breath. But he caught it.

Before it could sink, you motioned ahead.

“There’s a little café just down the alley. I go there all the time. It’s quiet.”

“Lead the way.”

—

The café was tucked between a bingsu shop and a bookstore.

Inside, it smelled like roasted barley tea, honey, and worn books. The kind of place that felt like a warm hug on a rainy day.

The old man behind the counter—you always called him Halabeoji—lit up when he saw you.

“Ah! You’re skipping class today,” he teased in Korean.

“Only this once,” you grinned back, motioning to Bucky. “I have… a friend visiting.”

Halabeoji gave a little approving nod, then pointed to your usual spot by the window.

“For you, always the best seat.”

—

You both sat down.

Two mugs of warm yujacha arrived, unprompted. Yours had a slice of lemon. His was plain.

Bucky looked around.

“This place feels like you.”

“How so?”

“Quiet. Understated. A little cozy. A little sad.”

You snorted softly. “Thanks?”

“No, I mean it in a good way. It’s peaceful. It feels like it’s survived something.”

He sipped his tea, then glanced at you.

“I didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“I didn’t think anyone was still looking.”

He hesitated.

Then: “Sam sent me. Intel mission.”

“Here? In Korea?”

“Yeah. That’s what surprised me too. We don’t usually get assigned Asia without a team. But Sam insisted I come alone.”

You blinked, suspicion already blooming in your chest.

“Wait. Sam’s been in touch with you?”

Bucky’s smile tilted crooked.

“Yeah. For a while.”

“He didn’t tell me.”

“You blocked everyone, remember?” he said gently. “When you left the country, they respected your space. Sam said they didn’t want to track you unless it was urgent. Privacy and all that.”

You exhaled slowly.

“Still feels like… a weird coincidence.”

“It’s not,” Bucky said, looking down at his tea. “This ‘mission’? No briefing. No real intel. No partner. Just some vague excuse to look into a low-level smuggling ring. It didn’t add up. And Sam kept nudging me. ‘Take it, Buck. Just go.’”

He looked up at you then.

“I think… he wanted this to happen.”

Your heart thudded.

He swirled his tea slowly, like it helped him think.

“I think he wanted me to find you.”

You looked at him.

Carefully.

The mug in your hands had gone warm, forgotten. Your thumb traced the rim once, then twice.

“How about you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Did you want to find me? Or was it just… the mission?”

He stilled.

His shoulders sank slightly, as though the words themselves added weight.

And he didn’t answer.

Not right away.

He took another sip of yujacha.

Let the silence stretch.

Watched the steam drift upward, as if it might form the right answer for him.

You didn’t press.

You just watched him.

The set of his jaw.

The faint crease between his brows.

The scar just beneath his left eye, one you didn’t remember—and one you ached to ask about.

Finally, Bucky set the cup down.

He leaned forward a little.

Not casual.

Not composed.

Just… tired of silence.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he said, voice low.

“After I left,” he continued, “after I sent that message… I shut everything off. Burned my last favor for extraction clearance and disappeared.”

“I landed in Kuala Lumpur. Rented a place above a tailor shop with broken stairs and a mosquito problem.”

He huffed a small breath of something that almost passed for a smile.

“It was the kind of place no one would look twice at. Exactly what I needed.”

You didn’t interrupt.

You could already feel the ache growing in your throat.

Because of course he didn’t just vanish. He rebuilt. In pieces.

“There was a group of pakcik (uncles) who sold breakfast near the bus stop. Half their stalls were barely standing. So I started showing up. Fixing legs. Rewiring lights. Buying kopi (coffee) at dawn. They’d laugh at my accent, make fun of my appetite, that I couldn't stand the spice—the heat. But after a while, they called me family.”

“I stayed longer than I thought I would. There was peace in it. Simple, quiet peace.”

“But every night… I’d see you.”

He looked at you then. Really looked.

“In dreams. On the street. In a song. Everything reminded me of you.”

“I didn’t come back because I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t enough for you. Not like that. Not with everything so broken.”

You couldn’t breathe for a second.

You felt something burn behind your eyes—but you held it together.

Because he wasn’t done.

“After Malaysia, I went back to Romania. Spent a couple months in the mountains. Then tried Dubai—got lost in the crowd, worked off the radar, stayed low.”

“Eventually, I made my way back to the States,” Bucky said, eyes fixed on the rim of his cup. “Didn’t know where I was going. Just knew I couldn’t keep drifting.”

“I stopped by the old spot—the safehouse near Quantico. Figured someone might still show up now and then.”

He paused, huffing a quiet breath.

“That’s where I ran into Torres. Joaquin. You’d like him—fast talker, smart, good heart. He recognized me right away. Told me where to find Sam.”

“I almost didn’t go. Thought maybe it wasn’t my place anymore. But… I needed to see someone who remembered who I used to be. Someone who knew Steve.”

“So I found Sam.”

Bucky’s voice softened, his thumb slowly brushing the condensation from his mug, tracing the arc like it helped him hold onto the moment.

“I already knew Steve was gone before I saw Sam.”

Your breath caught.

He didn’t look up—just kept circling the rim of his cup with a kind of quiet reverence, like speaking Steve’s name too quickly might cause it to vanish from the air.

“I saw it in a headline. Some international outlet. It was just a small article. No flashy photos. Just… ‘War Hero Steve Rogers Dies at Age 106.’”

“No ceremony. No fanfare.”

“Just a footnote in history. A paragraph about a man who changed the world.”

He finally looked up, and his eyes were tired. Still and hollow in a way that only grief knows.

“That headline didn’t even mention Peggy. Or the serum. Or that he was the only reason I ever got a second chance.”

You reached across the table without thinking. Your fingers brushed the edge of his sleeve.

He didn’t flinch.

He didn’t pull away.

But he also didn’t move.

He just let the silence sit for a beat before continuing.

“I think that was the moment I knew I had to stop running. Like something clicked.”

“I couldn’t keep drifting through cities pretending I didn’t still belong somewhere. That I didn’t owe it to him—or to you—to try.”

He took a breath, steadying himself.

“So I flew back. No plan. No contacts. Just showed up at the old safehouse near Thibodaux. Figured if anyone would still be in orbit… it’d be someone like Joaquin.”

“He recognized me right away. Thought I was some kind of mirage.”

“Told me Sam was down in Louisiana with his family. And before I could second-guess it, I was already halfway there.”

You could see it now—Bucky at the edge of a dock, his boots wet with salt and sweat, the sun making him squint against the bayou light. Sam turning, seeing a ghost from a past life standing ten feet away.

“He was still down in Louisiana,” Bucky murmured. “Running things with his sister, fixing up the boat.”

“Looked… tired. A little older. But he still had that fire in his eyes, you know?”

“Like the kind of man who chooses to carry the weight instead of letting it crush him.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump building in your throat. You didn’t realize how much you missed hearing Sam’s name spoken with warmth.

“I didn’t call ahead,” Bucky said. “Just walked up one morning while he was hauling crab traps out of the water.”

“He saw me and dropped the bucket. Took one look and said, ‘Damn, Barnes. Thought you died again.’”

“I told him I was starting to think that too.”

He let out a rough breath—a half-laugh, half-sigh—and shook his head a little.

“He didn’t ask for an explanation. Not right away. Just pointed to the porch and told me to sit.”

“Made me coffee. Gave me toast with way too much jam. Didn’t say a word for almost twenty minutes.”

You smiled. That sounded like Sam.

That sounded like family.

“Eventually, I told him where I’d been. Malaysia. Romania. Dubai. How I didn’t make it back in time to say goodbye to Steve.”

“He just looked at me and said, ‘Steve never doubted you’d find your way back.’”

“And I said maybe Steve was wrong.”

“And Sam called me a goddamn idiot and said, ‘Then prove him right instead.’”

You let your gaze linger on him. He looked smaller at that moment. Not weak—just stripped down. Honest.

Worn in all the places love tends to wear through.

“That’s when he offered the mission,” Bucky said, voice quieter now. “Told me there was a minor op in Seoul. Something about tech smuggling. Solo op. No backup. Real low risk.”

He looked over at you, and the edge of his mouth pulled into the faintest smile.

“But the way he pitched it? I knew. I knew it wasn’t about the mission.”

His gaze settled on you fully now. No deflection. No mask.

Just Bucky—exposed and aching.

“It was about you.”

—

The sunlight slanted deeper through the café window, bathing your table in amber-gold.

The world outside buzzed with students and bikes and the kind of everyday chaos you used to crave to feel less alone.

But inside this little café, it was still.

Quiet.

Safe.

Bucky leaned forward, the faintest smile curling at the edge of his mouth as he nudged his now-empty mug aside.

“I’ve been filling you in with all my wandering,” he murmured, “and I haven’t heard a damn thing about you.”

You blinked. Then you looked away.

He didn’t press.

“What’ve you been doing all this time, sweetheart?”

The pet name slipped out so naturally, so gently, that it made your chest ache. You didn’t even think he noticed—but of course he did. Bucky always noticed.

You drew in a slow breath.

And then, you began.

“I tried to find you,” you said, voice soft. “For months. I drained my accounts. Traveled across Europe, Asia. I retraced everywhere you might’ve gone. Asked the compound. Asked Wakanda. Sat on fire escapes and left letters and kept talking to ghosts.”

Bucky’s expression didn’t shift much—but you could see it in his eyes. The flinch.

“I lost you. And in the process… I lost someone else too.”

You didn’t say Dean’s name aloud.

Bucky didn’t ask.

“He was kind. Met him in grief therapy. And we… we tried. But I think part of me was still bleeding. I never gave him the whole version of me. And eventually… he walked away.”

You looked down at your hands, fingers curling slightly around the mug’s warm ceramic.

“I don’t blame him.”

Bucky stayed quiet—his knuckles pale, hands loosely interlaced on the table.

“Steve and Sam—they helped a lot. Kept checking in. Reminded me to eat. To sleep. To exist. When I moved here, they didn’t question it. Just… supported it.”

You reached up and tapped the necklace around your neck.

The tiny glint of metal caught in the windowlight.

“I still wear the ring you gave me,” you said quietly. “It’s always been here. Even when I tried to let go.”

Bucky’s breath hitched—almost too subtle to notice.

“Do you…” he began, then stopped, adjusting his position like the question itself hurt. “Do you still have the other one?”

You knew what he meant.

You shook your head once.

“No. I gave it back to him when we said goodbye. Told him… maybe we weren’t meant to keep holding each other.”

You hesitated, then offered a small smile.

“He was a chapter I needed. Not a replacement. Just… someone who helped me breathe again.”

Bucky nodded.

You didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until then.

—

A while later, after the café had dimmed its overhead lights and Halabeoji gave you his usual “go, go before sunset leaves you behind” wave, you and Bucky stepped out into the warm Seoul evening.

The sidewalks glowed peach from the setting sun. The air smelled like roasting chestnuts and fresh laundry.

You didn’t talk much as you walked toward Banpo.

The silence wasn’t heavy.

Just full.

—

When the Han River came into view, you turned to Bucky with a little grin.

“I’ve been coming here a lot,” you said, tilting your chin toward the park benches. “You can’t beat the view during sunset.”

“Guess I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’ve also been riding the KTX,” you continued, tone a little lighter. “Busan, Jeonju, Gyeongju. You’d love Gyeongju, actually—so much history. And I hiked with a group of ahjumma last spring. They brought me kimchi in tupperwares. Called me their baby goat.”

That earned a low, rough laugh from Bucky—the kind that melted something deep in your chest.

He glanced sideways.

“Did you finally try chicken-and-beer?”

“Chimaek's disappointing, actually,” you replied. “Tastes fine. But it’s not really fun without someone to share it with.”

Bucky’s smile lingered longer this time. Quiet. Full of something unreadable.

But the look he gave you was unmistakable:

I wish I had been there.

—

You found your favorite bench—the one tucked under the sycamore tree that had the best angle for catching the full sweep of golden light on the river.

It was miraculously empty.

You sat side by side.

Close, but not quite touching.

Not yet.

—

The sky bled gold and lavender over the Han River, the final edge of the sun slipping beneath the city’s jagged horizon. Lights flickered to life across bridges and distant towers, but the world at your bench stayed quiet, cocooned in soft shadows and late summer warmth.

You leaned back slightly on the bench and exhaled, your eyes following a boat carving a slow arc in the distance.

“Do you think,” you murmured, voice gentle, “we’d still be the same if none of that ever happened? If there was no war. No blip. No lost time?”

Bucky didn’t answer right away. So you kept going, like the questions could fill the unease blooming in your stomach.

“Do you think we’d have found a place together? Had a cat? Two coffee mugs and a broken couch and some ridiculous cable bill because I forgot to cancel it?”

That pulled a soft breath from him—a chuckle, but one laced with something tender.

“You’d forget to cancel the cable. I’d pay for it anyway. You’d thank me by stealing all the blankets.”

You laughed quietly.

“What if we’d married before everything fell apart? What if you’d never gone to Wakanda? What if we never made promises we couldn’t keep?”

The breeze ruffled your hair, and you tucked a strand behind your ear—then stilled.

Bucky wasn’t watching the river.

He was watching you.

And he hadn’t looked away once.

You turned your head just slightly—enough to notice how close his hand had shifted.

Fingers curled near yours. Not quite touching. Just… there. A single breath away.

“You’re not looking at the sunset,” you said, quieter now.

“I’ve seen sunsets,” he murmured. “I haven’t seen you.”

The silence grew thick, and suddenly your chest felt too small for the ache curling inside it.

And then—

“I never tried to find someone else,” Bucky said, voice steady, low. “I didn’t want to.”

“I couldn’t.”

Your breath caught, but he pressed on, gaze still locked with yours.

“I told myself I should. That it made sense. That you’d moved on. That someone like me… shouldn’t hold on to something already lost.”

He paused, eyes softer now. Open.

“But my love for you never faded. It never dimmed. It just… waited. Quiet. Burning low. Still alive.”

You looked down. Your fingers shifted unconsciously—toward your necklace, where the promise ring rested against your skin. You fiddled with it gently, just to feel something solid.

“I know it’s been years,” he said. “I know you’ve walked through a hundred different lives since me. And if you tell me that you don’t feel the same anymore… I’ll understand. I won’t ask you for anything.”

His hand inched closer.

The backs of your fingers brushed.

“But if there’s still something left… even a sliver,” he whispered, “I’d stay. I’d build a life here. In Seoul.”

You turned toward him fully now, breath trembling.

“You would?”

He nodded, voice rough with conviction.

“I think I’m ready for peace. For trains and quiet mornings. For markets and cats and walks by the river. I’m ready for a life that isn’t built around running or fighting.”

“I’m ready for a life with you.”

—

You didn’t speak at first.

The sun had nearly disappeared now, its last glow stretching long shadows over the water. Everything smelled like warm stone and river breeze and late-blooming flowers.

You looked at your fingers curled around the ring on yournecklace.

You thought of Kuala Lumpur. Of him fixing street stalls and drinking kopi with strangers. Of his nightmares alone in small rooms.

You thought of Seoul. Of your Korean textbooks. Your scarf flapped in the wind as you ran for the KTX. The nights you sat right here, aching for a ghost.

You thought of Dean’s last words—we’re learning to walk without them beside us.

But Bucky was here now. Beside you. Breathing the same air. Wearing the same scars.

And for once, not asking to be saved—just to begin again.

—

Your hand slipped forward—fingers sliding between his.

He stilled.

Then looked at you like he never wanted to look away again.

“There’s more than a sliver,” you whispered. “There’s still so much of you in me.”

Bucky’s breath shuddered out.

“You sure?”

You nodded once, eyes burning, voice fragile but firm.

“Just don’t disappear again.”

He smiled. Soft. Aching. Real.

“Not unless you’re coming with me.”

He lifted your joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You rested your head on his shoulder as the last light dipped below the river, and Seoul hummed to life around you.

And for the first time in years, your heartbeat didn’t feel like mourning.

It felt like home.

— Epilogue:

The morning light spilled gently through the linen curtains, pale gold and peach against the hardwood floor. Outside, the faint sound of a delivery scooter buzzed past. Birds chirped from the gingko trees across the quiet lane.

Inside, everything was still.

Bucky had woken early—as he always did—but for the first time in years, he didn’t feel the urge to reach for a weapon, or check a perimeter, or brace for another goodbye.

Instead, he reached for you.

Curled beside him, blanket tangled around your waist, lips slightly parted as you breathed steady and deep. One hand splayed against the center of his chest—always finding him, even in sleep.

He didn’t move at first.

He just stared.

You made the tiniest snuffling noise in your sleep—the same one you always made when your nose was pressed into the pillow too hard. It never failed to make his heart ache.

“God, you’re cute,” he whispered.

Then, with painstaking gentleness, he leaned in and pressed a feather-soft kiss to your temple. Then one on your cheek. Another near the corner of your mouth.

Your lashes fluttered. But you didn’t wake—not yet.

That was okay.

He could wait.

It had been six months since he called Sam to say he was done.

No more missions. No more deployments.

“I’ve given enough,” Bucky had said. “It’s time I learn how to keep something.”

Sam hadn’t argued.

In fact, he’d laughed.

Then paused.

“You sure Korea’s where you want to plant roots?”

“She’s there,” Bucky replied simply. “And I think that’s all I need.”

The South Korean government—with a quiet push from Wakandan allies and a few whispered favors from old S.H.I.E.L.D. contacts—had arranged for Bucky to live there legally under an assumed but cleared identity. James Buchanan Barnes was officially granted permanent residency under a “global protection and peacekeeping” clause that hadn’t been used in over a decade.

He rented a two-bedroom loft in Mapo-gu, not far from your university—enough space for mismatched furniture, two bookshelves full of your K-pop albums and his war novels, and one ridiculously oversized rice cooker you insisted on keeping.

It felt like home.

No missions.

Just laundry, groceries, slow breakfasts, and love that didn’t ask for anything except presence.

—

Most mornings now, Bucky walked you to class before heading to the local park. Sometimes he joined the ahjummas on their hikes—though they insisted on calling him “Baki-ssi” and feeding him dried persimmons.

One time, they tried setting him up with someone.

“Too late,” he said, holding up his hand where your ring glinted from its new place on his finger. “Mine’s better.”

They squealed. And then gave him more persimmons.

The ahjussi downstairs—Mr. Gu—had made it his mission to teach Bucky the art of drinking makgeolli like a proper local.

“Slow. Steady. Don’t stand up too fast.”

“Kind of like my whole life,” Bucky muttered.

—

You stirred beside him now—eyes still closed, hand twitching slightly against his chest.

“Mm… that better not be sunlight I feel,” you mumbled sleepily.

“Sorry, doll,” he whispered, brushing a thumb down your cheek. “But you were too pretty to let sleep through it.”

Your lips tugged up into a crooked, sleepy smile.

“You always say that.”

“And I always mean it.”

You finally opened your eyes.

Bleary. Beautiful.

Bucky leaned in again, this time kissing your forehead with something reverent—like he was still learning he was allowed to.

“Let’s stay in today,” you murmured.

“Even if the ahjumma text me angry hiking emojis?”

“Even then.”

You turned your face toward him and kissed his jaw—lazy, unhurried, like you had forever.

And you did.

—

Later, he’d make you pancakes—the slightly uneven kind you always claimed tasted better because they were made by him.

You’d curl up together by the window with coffee and soft jazz playing low in the background.

The world would keep spinning. The past would always be there.

But for once, so would the future.

And for James Buchanan Barnes—a man once lost to time, memory, and war—that was more than enough.

#by elle.��#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fics

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