#System info Windows

[fitlifefuel]

How to Know Which Version of Windows You Have: A Complete Guide

Have you ever wondered which version of Windows your computer is running? Whether you're a tech newbie or a seasoned user, knowing your Windows version is crucial for compatibility with software, drivers, and updates. This guide will walk you through the simplest methods to find out your Windows version, along with some extra tips and tricks to enhance your knowledge. Let’s dive in!

Understanding the Importance of Knowing Your Windows Version

Knowing your Windows version is essential for several reasons:

Software Compatibility: Ensures that applications and programs run smoothly.

Security Updates: Keeps your system protected with the latest security patches.

Troubleshooting: Helps resolve system issues more efficiently.

Methods to Determine Your Windows Version

Here are some easy ways to check your Windows version:

Method 1: Using System Settings

Open Settings:

Press Windows + I to open the Settings menu.

Navigate to System:

Click on "System" and then "About".

Check Windows Specifications:

Here, you’ll find your Windows edition and version.

Method 2: Using the Run Dialog

Open the Run Dialog:

Press Windows + R.

Type winver:

In the Run box, type winver and press Enter.

View the Information:

A window will pop up displaying your Windows version and build number.

Method 3: Using Command Prompt

Open Command Prompt:

Press Windows + X and select "Command Prompt" or "Windows PowerShell".

Type the Command:

Enter systeminfo and press Enter.

Check Windows Version:

Scroll through the information to find the "OS Name" and "Version".

Additional Methods

Using Control Panel: Navigate to Control Panel > System and Security > System to view your Windows version.

Windows Logo: On older versions like Windows 7, the Start menu logo gives a clue about the version.

Understanding Windows Version Numbers and Build Numbers

Microsoft frequently updates Windows, releasing major versions and build numbers. Here’s a quick rundown:

Windows 10: Known for its frequent updates, e.g., Version 20H2, 21H1.

Windows 11: The latest version with an updated interface and new features.

Addressing Common Questions

Q: Can I upgrade my Windows version for free? A: Yes, Microsoft often offers free upgrades from older versions to the latest one, like from Windows 10 to Windows 11.

Q: How can I find out if my Windows version is genuine? A: Check your activation status by going to Settings > Update & Security > Activation.

Tips to Keep Your Windows System Up-to-Date

Enable Automatic Updates: Ensure your system receives the latest updates.

Regularly Check for Updates: Manually check for updates by going to Settings > Update & Security > Windows Update.

Use Trusted Sources: Download updates and software from official sources to avoid malware.

External Links to Authoritative Sources

Microsoft Support: Find your Windows version - Official guide from Microsoft.

How-To Geek: How to Determine Which Version of Windows You Are Running - A reliable tech site with additional tips.

PCWorld: How to Check Your Windows Version - Another trusted tech resource.

By following this comprehensive guide, you’ll be well-equipped to determine your Windows version and keep your system running smoothly. Stay informed, and enjoy a seamless computing experience!

[brainrotdept]

I was listening to TMAGP with my partner, who works in cyber secops, and he informed me that windows NT 4.0 was rolled out in 1996 whereas windows 95 was rolled out in 1995 (obviously lol). So win95 is actually the predecessor to NT! It could very well be like a "slight difference between universes" thing, which could be fun, just miniscule differences to add to the unease and "other" this universe a bit more. (and if it's not, then I'm just sharing fun facts!! knowledge is neat!!)

[radiantindia]

Advantages of Upgrading to Microsoft Windows 11 Pro

Discover the benefits of upgrading to Microsoft Windows 11 Pro, including enhanced security, performance, and productivity features for modern businesses.

[ms-demeanor]

I got called into a meeting in January where people were very delicately trying to figure out how we were going to tell the client that their environment uses WinServer 2022 but the licenses we had purchased were 2025 so we either needed to update their whole system or return the licenses and purchase the correct version and I was like????????

You don't tell them that because it's not true?

Windows Server has downgrade rights. Just install 2022.

Because there was so much consternation about this that last week I searched around for definitive instructions from Microsoft and came to a subreddit where someone posted a downgrade rights document for 2022 but said the 2025 ones hadn't been released yet. When I searched the name of the 2022 document on Microsoft's site I found an updated 2025 document and later dropped the link in the thread in case anyone else came looking (forum rules; pay it forward). Then I sent the PDF and info about the downgrade rights to the head of the team working on that server.

Today, one of our other techs, Sam, asked me if she could reach out to the vendor to get 2022 licenses for the same user and I was like??????? I gave Brad the PDF???? Again, you can just downgrade, ask Mike from the socal office, he's done it before. And she said "no you can only downgrade OEM licenses" and I said "go to your meeting and i'll ask Mike to reach out to you."

Mike was on the phone so I pinged another guy and asked "hey you've done downgrades from like 2022 to 2019 before, right?" and he said "No, but I could figure it out." And I was like, "yeah, the team working on that server could use a hand." And he said, "here, give them this" and it was a link to a microsoft answers thread that insists that you can only downgrade OEM licenses and is incorrect in other ways (it only gives instructions on how to downgrade OEM, but then talks about VLSC licenses? VLSC has been gone for ages it's been CSP for like five years; clearly what Sam had been looking at though).

And I rolled my eyes and sighed and was like "fine, what chat did i put that fucking pdf in" when my coworker goes "Oh, actually, 2025 has downgrade rights" and links me to my own fucking reddit comment.

[tchaikovskym]

Why do they always have to know it's me why can't I be anonymous on Microsoft or my own God forsaken windows

[littlemssam]

!Important Warning!

These Days some Mods containing Malware have been uploaded on various Sites.

The Sims After Dark Discord Server has posted the following Info regarding the Issue:

+++

Malware Update: What We Know Now To recap, here are the mods we know for sure were affected by the recent malware outbreak: "Cult Mod v2" uploaded to ModTheSims by PimpMySims (impostor account) "Social Events - Unlimited Time" uploaded to CurseForge by MySims4 (single-use account) "Weather and Forecast Cheat Menu" uploaded to The Sims Resource by MSQSIMS (hacked, real account) "Seasons Cheats Menu" uploaded to The Sims Resource by MSQSIMS (hacked, real account)

Due to this malware using an exe file, we believe that anyone using a Mac or Linux device is completely unaffected by this.

If the exe file was downloaded and executed on your Windows device, it has likely stolen a vast amount of your data and saved passwords from your operating system, your internet browser (Chrome, Edge, Opera, Firefox, and more all affected), Discord, Steam, Telegram, and certain crypto wallets. Thank you to anadius for decompiling the exe.

To quickly check if you have been compromised, press Windows + R on your keyboard to open the Run window. Enter %AppData%/Microsoft/Internet Explorer/UserData in the prompt and hit OK. This will open up the folder the malware was using. If there is a file in this folder called Updater.exe, you have unfortunately fallen victim to the malware. We are unware at this time if the malware has any function which would delete the file at a later time to cover its tracks.

To quickly remove the malware from your computer, Overwolf has put together a cleaner program to deal with it. This program should work even if you downloaded the malware outside of CurseForge. Download SimsVirusCleaner.exe from their github page linked here and run it. Once it has finished, it will give you an output about whether any files have been removed.

+++

For more Information please check the Sims After Dark Server News Channel! Or here https://scarletsrealm.com/malware-mod-information/

TwistedMexi made a Mod to help detect & block such Mods in the Future: https://www.patreon.com/posts/98126153

CurseForge took actions and added mechanics to prevent such Files to be uploaded, so downloading there should be safe.

In general be careful, where and what you download, and do not download my Mods at any other Places than my own Sites and my CurseForge Page.

[felassan]

EA: Origin shutdown - date and information

"On April 17, 2025, Origin will shut down, as Microsoft has stopped supporting 32-bit software. If you use Origin, you need to upgrade to the EA app, which requires a 64-bit version of Windows. If you need help, learn how to: - update to Windows 10 or Windows 11 - download and install the EA app."

"The EA app doesn’t support 32-bit versions of Windows. You’ll need to upgrade to a 64-bit operating system on your device to play your games. See if the version of Windows you’re running is 32 or 64-bit."

[source and more info]

[daydreamgoddess14]

Backseat Driver pt. 2

Summary: Bucky Barnes is reluctantly running for Congress with the financial and political backing of Pepper Potts. Everything is under control until she assigns him a driver. A very chatty, overly enthusiastic, playlist-addicted driver who seems determined to worm her way past his hundred-yard emotional perimeter. He hates the arrangement. Until he really doesn’t.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Part 1 here

Word Count: Here's the remaining 11k I wasn't allowed to put into yesterday's post 🤭 I thought I'd split it pretty equally... turns out I did not. I was very stressed.

Warnings/Tags/Info: No use of y/n, l/n, reader is described as female. I have literally no idea whatsoever the process involved in running for Congress or being a Congressperson. Expect grumpy!Bucky, sunshine!Reader, fluff, Sam being the most glorious human ever, Pepper Potts continuing to be a badass.... And in this chapter, you can also expect smut, car sex, unprotected p-in-v, oral (f receiving), some angsty emotions, Enjoy! 🩷

Main Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

She drove more slowly than usual. 

The rain had set in, drumming lightly on the windshield. The music was low, something softer than usual. The display tells him it's Taylor Swift. She was, as usual, singing along, but this time the melancholy, low tones suited her far better.

He’d surprised her when he slid in beside her in the front. 

“Change of scenery?” she teased, trying to keep it light.

He glanced over at her. She seemed more relaxed than she had a few hours previously. 

“It’s quieter up here.”

She knew that wasn’t true. 

“Where'd you go? Home?” He asked. 

“Gym, swim, sauna, food.”

“Sounds good.”

“It was.”

They sat quietly for a while. He broke the silence first.

“Do you ever get tired of being so loud?”

She laughed, caught off guard. “Wow. Rude.”

“Just a question.”

“Maybe I like being loud. Maybe it stops people from looking too closely.”

That surprised him. His eyes cut to hers, studying her face in the dim glow of the dash lights.

“And do you ever get tired of being so... guarded?”

He didn’t answer. Not right away. 

“...All the time.”

“You’re not what I expected.”

“Neither are you.”

They stopped at a red light, the Range Rover humming softly beneath them. She looked over, sensing him watching her. He turned to look at the road ahead. 

A thoughtful silence stretched again as they drove. “Can I ask you something?”

He didn’t look at her, but she felt his attention tuning to her completely.

“Sure.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

She glanced over. “The Congress thing. Doesn’t exactly scream Bucky Barnes.”

He huffed a quiet laugh through his nose, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “You think I’m not cut out for politics?”

She arched a brow. “I think you look like you’d rather punch a senator than have lunch with one.”

He rolled his jaw, eyes drifting out the window. 

He could still see Pepper’s face that day, unreadable. Her voice was calm and persuasive.  

“You want to fix things? Use the system. Rewrite the rules. Make it harder for people like you to be made in the first place.”

He hadn’t wanted to. But Pepper had always had a way of making refusal sound like cowardice.

He remembered folding his arms and saying, I’m not a politician.

And she’d smiled. Exactly. That’s why you’ll win.

I don't think Tony would like this. He'd tried to tell her. 

Bullshit. She told him. 

Sam had laughed. And then very quickly taken Pepper’s side. 

Now here he was, sitting in a $250,000 SUV with a girl who sang off-key and drove like she was dodging sniper fire… and for some reason, he wasn’t running.

“I'm trying to fix things,” he told her simply. 

She pulled up to his house and he reached for the door handle but didn’t open it right away. She was still watching the road ahead, one hand on the wheel, fingers drumming lightly.

“Hey,” he said.

She turned her head toward him, brows raised.

“Thanks,” he added. “For… tonight. The ride. The tie. Everything.”

She smiled softly. “Anytime.”

He stepped out into the teeming rain, well aware of the effect it would be having on the designer suit. 

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Yeah?” He ducked his head to look through the open door. 

Her voice dropped just a bit. “You should know… when you’re all dressed up like that?”

He blinked. “Yeah?”

“You’re impossible not to look at.”

He froze, the rain dripping into his collar and down his neck.

She didn’t wait for a response. Just shifted the car into gear and gave him a quick, shy smile.

“Sleep well, Congressman.”

And then she was gone, he just about had time to shut the door. Her tail lights glowed red as she disappeared down the street. He stood on the sidewalk for a full minute before he even remembered to breathe.

And when he finally made it inside, jacket flung over the back of a chair to dry out, tie still crooked, he didn’t move for a while.

Just sat there.

Thinking about her hands on his collar. Her voice in his ear. And the way her eyes had lingered just a second too long.

Damn Pepper Potts-Stark.

The apartment was too quiet. He’d showered and tried to unwind, but nothing worked. The water hadn't helped. The scotch hadn’t helped. He was still wired.

Her voice played on a loop in his head.

You’re impossible not to look at.

It wasn’t just the words. It was the way she said them. Like she hadn’t meant to, like it slipped out before she could catch it. Like it surprised her too.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. This was bad. This was really fucking bad. Because it wasn’t just tonight. It hadn’t been just one moment, or one look. It had been building. Quietly, steadily sneaking up on him. 

Every damn morning she greeted him with a too-bright smile. Every time she reached over to adjust the stereo. Every time her laugh echoed through the car and set something deep inside him shaking.

And tonight, when her hands had touched his throat, he hadn’t flinched. He’d wanted it.

Worse than that, he still wanted it. Wanted her.

Her mouth. Her fingers. Her laugh. 

The crease between her brows when she was annoyed at him. The way she twisted her rings when she was nervous.

His head tipped back against the cushions. Eyes closed. His hand drifted lower before he even made the decision. There was no decision, really, just a need he couldn’t ignore. A tension in his bones that had nowhere else to go. His mind spun with images he’d barely let himself imagine before now. 

Her, pressed close, straddling him - in the car of all places. Lips parted, breath catching, sighing his name as he filled her up. 

And here, in his home, crossing the room with a smile and asking need a hand, Congressman? 

Wrapping her pretty mouth around his pulsing cock. 

His hips jerked up to meet his hand with no finesse or control. Pure desperation. He let himself fall apart quietly. Thoughtlessly. As if he could exorcise her from his system.

He couldn’t.

When it was over, he sat in the dark, his chest still rising and falling too fast. Shame prickled hot under his skin, rising behind his ears like a flush he couldn’t cool. What the hell was he doing?

She was young. Vibrant. Light-years out of his reach.

And he was… this. A broken man playing politics, jerking off to the thought of the only person who treated him like he wasn’t one.

The guilt came fast. He didn’t deserve her kindness. Didn’t deserve the way she smiled at him. Didn’t deserve a damn thing about her.

~~~~

The next morning, he was a different person.

The second he saw her standing by the car, his shame from the previous night came flooding back. She was sipping from a takeaway cup, squinting up at the sky. 

Wind tugged at the hem of her coat, hair pulled back loosely, a few strands caught in her lip balm. Just looking at her made something clench in his chest. She smiled when she saw him. Not overly warm. Just normal. Like nothing had changed.

He hated it.

“Morning,” she said, holding the door open for him.

He muttered something back, he wasn’t even sure what exactly. He didn’t meet her eye. Just slid into the back seat like usual.

She glanced at him in the rearview mirror once as she pulled into traffic, then again when he didn’t offer anything else. Her fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel. She didn’t press, but he could feel how aware she was of whatever this was. 

He’d built the wall the second he woke up. Because last night had been a mistake. 

All of it. The closeness, the look in her eyes. 

The fact that he’d gone inside and couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d thought about it too long. Let it spiral. And now he was punishing himself for it the only way he knew how.

Silence. Coldness. Distance.

She didn’t deserve it. But he didn’t trust himself to speak.

“What’s on today?” she asked eventually, voice light, breezy.

He shrugged. “Nothing interesting.”

He was meeting Sam. 

“Oh. Ok.” She tapped along to the beat of the music. “Want coffee?”

“Already had one.” Lie. He hadn’t.

Another pause. He could feel the tension stretching, tightening, her posture shifting subtly in her seat.

“I, uh… saw the pictures from last night,” she offered, trying again. “Suit looked good. Great bow tie”

He didn’t answer. Just stared out the window.

“Ok. Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. You know that scowl is deeply presidential,” she sniggered. 

Nothing. 

The silence returned, he could feel the disappointment rolling off her. That little fold between her brows had crept in. He could see her trying to work out if she’d done something wrong, and he couldn’t seem to tell her she hadn’t.

She pursed her lips and sighed. Then she reached for the volume dial and built her own wall. 

She was listening to his playlist. She skipped through a few of his chosen tracks and settled on one of her own favourites. 

“When I hold you baby,” she sang loudly, fiercely. 

“Feel your heartbeat close to me

Wanna stay in your arms forever

Only love can set you free…”

She had to be joking. He wanted to say something. That it wasn’t her. That it was him, drowning in everything he didn’t know how to feel. But the words locked up in his throat.

“When we touch each other

In a state of ecstasy

Want this night to last forever

Only love can set you free

Set you free

Set you free”

She sang without inhibition - poorly - but he could see the tension leaving her shoulders the more the tempo increased.

He sat silent and miserable, watching the city blur past the glass, wishing he didn’t want her, and hating himself for not being able to stop.

She turned the volume down, marginally, as they pulled up, the engine softening into idle. She didn’t speak right away, and he didn’t offer anything either.

“Alright,” she said finally, still slightly breathless. “I think this is you.”

He nodded once, already reaching for the handle.

“This one due to go on all day? Finish at six?”

“Yeah,” he said shortly.

“Right.” She didn’t say anything else. No teasing, no warmth. Just quiet acceptance.

He hated it.

He stepped out, not looking back, and nearly walked straight into Sam.

“Oh hey, man!” Sam grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “You look like shit. Everything ok?” He trailed off, glancing over Bucky’s shoulder to the driver’s seat. “Is that her?”

“Didn't think you'd be here yet,” he grimaced. He didn't acknowledge Sam's questions. 

Sam stepped around Bucky entirely and leaned toward the window, tapping it once with a smile.

She rolled it down.

“Hi,” Sam said, extending a hand. “Sam Wilson. Good to meet you at last. I've heard a lot about you.”

Her brow lifted, but she smiled as she shook his hand. “That surprises me. I think he likes to forget I exist unless he's forced into this car. I've heard a lot about you, too.”

“All lies,” Sam said. “Well. Most of them.”

She laughed softly, and Bucky hated how much lighter her voice sounded with him.

“I should get going,” she said, pulling her hand back. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

“You too. Thanks for keeping him in one piece.”

She gave Bucky a quick disappointed glance and rolled the window back up. The Rover pulled away a second later, merging into traffic with practiced ease.

Sam waited until she was gone. Then turned back, arms crossed.

“You’re an asshole,” he said cheerfully.

“Don’t.”

“You didn’t even introduce her?”

Bucky started walking. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Too late. We’re already doing it. That girl looked like she’d just been drop-kicked in the ribs. What'd you do to her?”

Bucky didn’t answer.

Sam followed close behind, not relenting. “You like her.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Liar.”

Bucky stopped just short of the lobby doors, jaw tight. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do, actually. You forget, we're friends now. You like her, you want her, and now you’re being cold because you think pushing her away will fix it.”

He didn’t respond.

“This is exactly why you need to accept that I'm here for you,” Sam leaned in again, voice lower. “Don’t wait until it’s too late to walk it back, man.”

Then he stepped inside, leaving Bucky standing there.

He didn’t follow right away. Because maybe Sam was right. And that scared the hell out of him.

~~~~

She was quiet for the first few blocks, eyes on the road, hands steady on the wheel.

Bucky stared out the window, jaw tight. He hadn’t said a word since he slid into the backseat. Again. Walls back up.

“You’ve been weird all week,” she said finally, voice flat.

He didn’t respond.

“Seriously, what’s your deal? One minute you’re making playlists, the next you’re acting like I don’t exist.”

He exhaled hard through his nose. “Drop it.”

“No.”

That surprised him. He leaned forward slightly. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t get to go all silent treatment for a whole week just because you’re in a mood,” she snapped, not looking at him. “If you’re mad at me, fine, say it. But don’t make me guess.”

He shifted, annoyed now. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then what?”

He hesitated too long.

“That’s what I thought,” she muttered.

“You ever think maybe it’s not about you?” He said, his voice sharper than he meant. “Maybe I’ve got other things going on.”

She scoffed, glancing at him in the rearview. 

“Fine,” she said, turning onto the final street. “You want space? You got it.”

Neither of them spoke again before they arrived.

~~~~

The low murmur of conversation was starting to fray his nerves. Too many smiles. Too much wine. Too much her.

It wasn’t a formal event, just a small thing mainly made up of staffers, friends, campaign types, but still, everyone was dressed to impress. And she was there as a guest as well as his driver. Part of the dream team about to secure his victory. 

She looked good. Too good. 

It was the first time he'd seen her in a dress and it caught the light and her curves in a way that made his hands curl into fists in his pockets. 

She wasn’t avoiding him exactly, but she wasn’t looking at him either. And it made him feel like shit.

He didn’t say goodbye to anyone. Just slipped out the side exit with a muttered excuse to the nearest staffer, and made his way to the car. 

The streetlights buzzed gently overhead, casting a dull glow across the SUV. He slid into the backseat, resting his elbows on his knees, and stared straight ahead.

Five minutes passed.

Ten.

Then the driver’s door opened, and he didn’t have to look up to know it was her.

“Hey,” she said softly, as the door shut behind her. “You just... left.”

“I’m here,” he muttered. 

“I noticed.”

Then she sighed. “This is stupid.”

She twisted in her seat and kicked off her heels, dropping them onto the passenger seat next to her bag with a quiet thud. 

Her next move was clumsy as she clambered between the seats into the back. The hem of her dress caught briefly, and as she bent forward, he caught the slope of her breasts, the curve of soft skin as it was claimed by the neckline of her dress. No bra.

He looked away fast.

She huffed as she landed beside him, tugging her dress down and brushing her hair from her face. “Can I sit?”

“You’re already here.”

She sighed again, a little annoyed. “Don’t be an asshole.”

That finally pulled his eyes to hers.

She was close.

Close enough that he could smell her perfume, something different for the evening than she usually wore, but still familiar. 

Close enough to see the faint smudge of eyeliner under her lashes. She didn’t look like his driver right now. She didn’t look like anything safe.

He swallowed hard. “You look -”

“What happened?” she interrupted, her voice more vulnerable than he expected. “We were... ok. I thought. You were tolerating me.”

He shook his head slowly, jaw working. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He said, finally. 

“Then why are you being like this?”

Because I can't stop thinking about kissing you. Because I touched myself thinking about you and woke up wanting to do it again. And have wanted it ever since. Because you’re too close and I’m fucking terrified.

He didn’t say any of that. “I don’t know.”

She looked at him for a long time. “That’s not good enough.”

“I know.”

Another silence. Then she reached for the door.

But before she could open it, he caught her wrist gently. Not hard. Just enough to make her pause.

“Don’t go,” he said, his voice low.

Her hand stilled on the door handle, but she didn't look back. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I don’t either,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. For the last few days. For pulling away. For making you feel like you were… like you’re not important.”

She turned warily.

“I didn’t mean to shut you out,” he said. “I panicked. I’m not sure I'll ever be used to people giving a shit about me. Or finding people I actually give a shit about. ”

Her breath caught, just barely but he noticed. Of course he did.

“I keep thinking about you. About the way you look at me like I'm allowed to be myself.” He hesitated. “And when I’m not with you, I miss you. And when I am, I can’t think straight.”

She blinked, and he could see the pulse in her throat jump.

“I'm not exactly sure what I’m trying to say, I’m -” 

But she was already moving.

She surged forward, caught his face in her hands, and kissed him. No hesitation, no warning, just fire and hunger and weeks of unspoken longing poured into one desperate kiss.

He groaned against her mouth, hands gripping her waist. She climbed into his lap without thinking, knees bracketing his thighs, and threaded her fingers through his hair. 

He pulled her in tighter, his vibranium arm wrapping firmly around her waist, the other sliding up her bare thigh, pushing the fabric out of the way, needing to feel her skin under his palm.

“Tell me to stop,” he said roughly, mouth brushing the corner of hers. “If you don’t want this -”

“I do,” she whispered. “I really do.”

That was all he needed. His mouth was on her throat, kissing a trail down to her collarbone while she rolled her hips down to meet his. 

“God,” he breathed. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Not tonight,” she whispered, kissing the corner of his jaw, his neck, the scar that peeked from under his shirt.

He dragged her deeper into his lap, his hands moving to open the deep V neckline wider, stretching it down her arms and exposing more of her soft skin to him. 

She arched her back, offering herself up to him and he took it. Cupping the swell of her breast in one hand, his thumb brushed over the tight peak until she shivered against him.

His mouth followed, dragging slow, open kisses down the column of her throat until she rocked against him. 

He could feel the heat of her core, could feel himself hard against her. She shifted against him in search of friction and he hissed through his teeth.

He sank his teeth into the underside of her breast, making her whine and press her knees deeper into the seat behind him. 

“God, Bucky,” she shuddered. 

He groaned at the sound of his name on her lips, rough and reverent. His hands slid down to her hips, guiding her over the hard length of him again, slow and deliberate.

“You feel that?” he rasped, his voice low against her skin. “That’s what you do to me.”

He didn't wait for a response, she gasped when his tongue circled her pebbled nipple.

“Please, please -” she murmured.

He slid his hand between them to push the thin lace of her underwear aside. She moaned as his fingers found her, already soaked, already ready.

“You were gonna walk away,” he said, low and rough, mouth brushing her ear. “You were gonna leave me in this car thinking about this all night.”

She tugged his hair and moved back just slightly. 

“C'mon, you had no idea I've been this wet for you every day since we met,” she teased. 

His eyes darkened at her words, jaw tightening as he dragged two fingers slowly through her slick heat. “Jesus,” he breathed.

She grinned smugly until he slid a finger inside, slow but deliberate, making her stutter on a breath and grip his shoulder tighter.

“Not so chatty now, huh?” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, then lower.

He added another finger, curling just right, and her head dropped to his shoulder with a strangled whimper. The sound went straight through him.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” he said, voice thick, “every night. Every time you smiled at me. Every time you drove away.”

She reached between them, unfastening his belt with deft fingers. The sound of the buckle, the zip, he thought he might lose his mind before she even touched him. She grazed her thumb over the tip of him, his fingers inside her stuttering momentarily. 

“What if someone comes past?” He breathed against her collarbone. 

“Oh, now you're scared of that?” She laughed quietly, her hand encircling him and pumping slowly. 

“Yeah, well,” he groaned, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as her hand worked him, deliberately slowly. “Feels different now that your hand’s on me.”

She bit her lip, breath catching as his fingers resumed their rhythm. Her hips moved with him, chasing every stroke. 

“You started this,” she whispered, her voice thick as he hit just the right spot. “The other week with that stupid bow tie. Making me a fucking playlist.”

His laugh was broken, shaky. 

“You climbed in my lap, sweetheart.”

“You let me.”

His mouth found hers again, messy and desperate. When he broke the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers. “I need to be inside you.”

She nodded and in the dim light, he could see a flash of nerves in her eye. She exhaled shakily as he withdrew his hand and moved it to her hip. 

Without taking her hand from him, she rose up onto her knees and guided him into place. 

She sank onto him slowly.

“Fuck,” he sighed. “You feel incredible.”

He watched her hold her breath as she sank down, her body stretching to accommodate him. 

She bit her lip, trying to keep herself steady as he filled her. His hands gripped her hips, guiding her as she moved, inch by inch, until she was fully seated on him.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled, his voice rough as he tried to hold back, every instinct screaming for movement. 

Her head tipped back slightly, the pleasure clear on her face, and the sight of it nearly drove him insane. She moved, slowly at first, the friction sending a shiver through both of them.

“Bucky,” she moaned. 

“God, you’re perfect,” he rasped. His hand slid up her back, fingers digging into her skin as her pace increased, rising and falling on him over and over. 

He met her thrusts, pushing up to meet her, every drag of her body against his, every breath, every whisper of his name made him feel like he was losing control.

His hands slid to her ass, pulling her down harder against him, meeting her every movement with his own.

The heat between them was unbearable, Bucky could feel it building, the pressure in his chest, his pulse racing as she clenched around him, and he knew she was close. Her name fell from his lips in a broken breath, again and again, like a prayer. 

She kissed his throat, his mouth, his cheekbone. He could feel her shaking around him, her breath stuttering.

“Look at me,” he said. “C’mon, sweetheart, I wanna see you come for me,” he demanded, his voice hoarse, barely controlled as he watched her struggle to hold on.

She cried out, her body tightening as she finally unraveled around him, her movements jerky and frantic as she came, her head falling against his shoulder. 

Bucky’s grip tightened on her, pulling her flush against him as he followed, every muscle in his body tightening as he reached his own release.

They stayed like that for a moment, both of them breathless, lost in the aftermath of what had just happened. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, still reeling from how quickly their situation had escalated. 

“Shit,” he heard her whisper. She pulled away from him, her eyes wide and panicked. 

“What’s wrong?” The words left his mouth before he could stop them. His voice was rough, unsure. She wouldn’t even look at him, and it was killing him.

“I -” She cut herself off, her voice small. “I can’t do this.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she was already shaking her head, moving further away from him, almost like she was trying to distance herself from everything that had just happened between them.

She slipped off his lap, trying to straighten the skirt of her dress and pull the neckline back into place. 

“I didn’t think it’d go this far,” she muttered, her voice cracking slightly. 

He could barely hear her over the rush of blood in his ears. He wanted to reach out, to pull her back into his arms, but he stayed frozen in place. 

“We -” She swallowed, her breath shaking. “We can’t. Not like this. You’re... you're running for office, Bucky. This is... this is a mess.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His pulse raced, but now it wasn’t from the rush of adrenaline and desire. Now, it was the cold, tight knot of panic curling in his stomach. He zipped his pants and tried to regain his dignity. 

“I … I’ve just ruined it,” she went on, voice barely above a whisper. “We could’ve been caught, and I… God, this could be... this could ruin your career.”

She turned away from him, reaching between the seats to retrieve her shoes and her bag. 

Bucky’s jaw clenched. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was still trying to process her words when she looked at him, eyes wide and glassy, as if she might cry any second. She looked so vulnerable, so out of control, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that.

He reached for her, his hand extending instinctively, but she slid along the seat, closer to the door, her breath trembling.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, the words so quiet, so filled with regret that they felt like a physical blow. “I didn’t think. I just… I couldn’t... I couldn’t stop. I’ve ruined everything for you. I should have just... stayed away.”

The guilt in her voice made something inside him tighten painfully. 

“Don’t,” he managed to say at last, his throat dry. But she was already moving away from him, already pulling herself together. 

She opened the door, and just before she stepped out of the car, she glanced back at him, but it wasn’t the look he expected. There was no longing, no regret, just... distance.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again. And then, before he could even process it, she was gone. 

She walked away from him, her heels clicking against the pavement as he sat there, frozen, alone in the dim light of the car. His hand hung in the air where she had been moments ago. He sat in the car, staring at the empty space between them. His chest felt hollow. 

She hadn’t just left, she had run from him. 

~~~~

He'd driven himself home, his own playlist still plugged into the dash. Everything in the driver’s seat reminded him of her. Her lip balm in the centre console, a hair claw clip attached to one of the air vents but clinging on for dear life. 

The scent of sex and her perfume filled the car.

At home, he stood in the middle of his kitchen, the silence of the place suffocating him. His hands were still shaking, he hadn’t noticed, but now they hung uselessly by his sides, feeling heavy, like they didn’t belong to him anymore. He couldn’t stop replaying it in his head. 

He pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to block out the thoughts of her, but it was impossible.

The way her body had reacted to him, the warmth of her skin, the softness of her breath against his ear. 

The way her head had tipped back, the pleasure that had crossed her face as she tightened around his cock. The sweet, desperate sounds she made as he fucked her.

It all consumed him. 

And then, just as quickly as it had all begun, she was pulling away from him, pushing him away, leaving him in that car like he was nothing more than a mistake she wanted to forget. He paced through the kitchen, his thoughts spiraling out of control. 

Why did he always do this? Why did he always fuck things up? 

The guilt hit him like a ton of bricks. He could still feel the heat of her body against his, the way she had looked at him before she walked away. She'd blamed herself, but he should have stopped it. But he hadn’t. He’d let it happen. He should have never let it get this far.

And now, all he could think about was how he’d ruined everything. Again. He hated himself for it. Hated himself for putting her in a position where she felt like she had to leave.

He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, gripping the back of his neck as he stood there, unable to move, unable to do anything except drown in his own regret. He hadn’t been that close to a woman in… Christ… Since before Hydra. Since the war. Since before everything about him had been rewritten.

Even now, all these years later, with Shuri’s tech in his veins and Wakandan peace etched into his bones, there was a part of him that whispered:

What if it’s not gone?

What if it’s just sleeping?

He hadn’t trusted himself. Not with something fragile. His career was a minefield, and she hadn’t signed up for this mess. She was supposed to be a colleague. She deserved better than someone who could fuck it all up without even thinking. But the longer he stood there, the more he realised something else. Despite his guilt, he could only think of one thing. 

She should be there.

All he wanted right now was for her to be in his bed. 

He wanted more than some quick and dirty fumble on the backseat of the car. He wanted to hold her, to feel her skin against his. He wanted to taste her, he wanted to see every tremble and shiver. 

He wanted to take her apart again and again.

But the second that want rose up in him, his own mind turned on him. 

You don’t get this.

You don’t get to have this.

Ever the self-saboteur.

He knew he should probably call Sam. Sam would listen. Probably say something reasonable and kind but also just harsh enough to snap him out of being his own worst enemy. He ran a hand through his hair and stared at his reflection in the window. The city lights outlined his silhouette. 

Familiar. Dangerous.

No wonder she bailed. He couldn’t blame her.

~~~~

He hadn’t slept. Not really.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. He could still feel her pressed against him, warm and trembling, still smell her perfume clinging to his skin. Under the water in the shower, he'd found faint traces of her lipstick on his neck. She’d walked away with his cum on her thighs, and all he could think about was how much more of her he wanted.

He hadn’t even finished his coffee when there was a knock at the front door. He opened it to find a guy standing on the steps, holding a clipboard.

“Mr. Barnes? I’ve been reassigned to your transportation detail. Do you happen to have the keys to the Range Rover?”

Bucky blinked at him. The words barely registered. She’d bailed. He nodded stiffly and turned back into the house to grab the keys, jaw clenched so tight it ached.

The drive was far quieter than he’d become used to. There was no music, no humming, no early-morning opinions about pastry options or off-key singing to Chappell Roan. Just the hum of the engine and the occasional comment from the new guy.

Bucky didn’t bother speaking to him. The guy didn’t take the hint. 

“I’ve read your schedule for the day. We’ve got a tight window before the community board meeting -”

“I know what’s on my calendar,” Bucky snapped.

Silence followed. Blessed, suffocating silence.

He stared out the window, jaw clenched, fingers twitching against his thigh. Coward, he thought. She’d just… bailed. After everything that had happened, she couldn’t even face him the next morning. 

And maybe, yeah, maybe he deserved that.

But she could’ve at least had the guts to say it to his face. He pulled a file from his bag and opened it, finding a post-it stuck to the inner cover.

I can’t say this to your face… please don’t wear that ugly green tie ever again.

He huffed a short laugh and peeled the note off the page, holding it delicately between his vibranium fingers. Then he pushed it deep into his pocket. By the time they hit the fifth red light in a row, he was ready to throw the new driver out of the car and take the wheel himself.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it, it buzzed again. He sighed and yanked it out.

Sam.

“This better be good,” he muttered into the handset.

“Nice to hear your sunny voice first thing,” Sam said dryly. “So. You fired her or she quit?”

Bucky’s grip tightened on the phone. “Don’t start.”

“Okay, okay,” Sam relented. “You gonna tell me or do I have to guess?”

“I didn’t fire her,” Bucky said. “She left.”

Sam paused. “Shit. You okay?”

Bucky didn’t answer. Just stared out at the grey city morning, the scent of her still lingering in the Rover’s air vents and in the leather seats.

“Did you… do something?”

“I let something happen,” he swallowed. 

“Well. That’s progress. You used to let nothing happen.” Sam sighed. 

Bucky stayed quiet, jaw clenched as the car rolled to a stop again. The new driver muttered something about roadworks up ahead. Bucky barely heard him.

“You still there?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Bucky muttered.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Sure about that?” 

“She left, man. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“I want you to admit to yourself that you like her.”

“I -” Bucky cut himself off. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Oh, well, shit. If you weren’t supposed to, then by all means, ignore your feelings, bottle that shit right up and carry on like you always have….”

“You’re an asshole, Wilson.”

“Maybe she’s scared.”

“Of me?”

“No. Of wanting something she thinks she can’t have. Y’know, I think this is progress,” Sam said simply.

“Progress?”

“You used to shut down over less. This is you feeling something. Big difference.”

“Doesn’t mean I know what the hell to do with it.”

“Maybe figure that out before you waste it.”

“I’ve got a meeting.”

“Well,” Sam sighed, “try not to kill anyone, yeah?”

Bucky hung up and let the phone drop to the seat next to him.

Meeting rolled into meeting rolled into glad-handing and drinks rolled into more meetings. He didn't dare ask the new guy whether he was a permanent fixture, but after a week he didn’t need to. Bucky could still hear the echo of her laugh from a week ago. He gritted his teeth.

She’d run.

He knew fear when he saw it. Hell, he’d lived inside it long enough to recognise the shape of it behind someone’s eyes. But it still burned that she hadn’t even tried to talk to him. She just slipped away. Left him sitting in that car, half-wrecked, still tasting her on his lips.

Now he was stuck with a driver who just followed the GPS like a good little drone. No chaos. No conversation. No challenge. He almost missed the way she argued with him over the best shortcut to… anywhere. Almost.

He shifted in his seat, jaw tight. He was beginning to think Sam was right. He was a mess. But he couldn’t tell if he was more furious with her… or with himself.

He reached into the centre console for her lip balm, intending to hang onto it should she return, but it was gone. 

“There was some stuff in here?” He asked the driver.

“Yeah, I had a clear out. Car was full of crap.”

He managed to stamp down the urge to tell the driver that he was full of crap.

The press pool was already waiting by the steps of the courthouse. Cameras, microphones, all of it too close, too loud, too much.

Bucky adjusted his suit jacket, the collar suddenly stiff around his neck. He caught sight of himself in a car window as he passed. He looked tired and drawn.

Pepper was beside him, heels clicking confidently on the pavement, tablet in hand. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Are you ready?”

He nodded. 

“Yeah? It’s getting a little close for you to change your mind on me?”

The crowd surged as they stepped up to the podium. Questions flying. Cameras flashing. Someone shouted a question he only half heard.

He opened his mouth, but the words caught. His tongue felt thick. Pepper stepped in smoothly, answering for him. “The candidate is eager for the campaigning to be over and is ready to commit to bringing change to this office.”

He blinked, forcing himself to nod in agreement. The crowd moved on, more noise, more questions, but he wasn’t really hearing any of it.

They slipped into the back hallway once the press had been corralled and the cameras stopped flashing. Pepper held the door for him, always two steps ahead. Always in control.

“You’re off,” she said plainly, not bothering to dress it up.

“Didn’t sleep.” Bucky ran a hand over his jaw. 

She tilted her head, unconvinced.

“You’ve got a good thing going,” she added after a beat, voice softening. “Don’t let your pride make you ruin it.”

“You talking about my campaign or something else?” He frowned. “Why aren’t you doing this, Pepper? You’re brilliant, you don’t need me.”

Pepper just gave him one of her knowing looks. The kind that said she could run this country in her sleep.

“He forgave you, you know. He may not have had a chance to say it with… everything that happened. But he did. And I know Tony would want it to be you.” She covered his hand with her own, the paths of gold in his arm illuminated by the sun streaming through the high windows and catching on the wedding ring she still wore. “Let yourself have this, James. For once.” She squeezed lightly and left him in the hallway.

He stood for a moment, a memory hit him without warning. Just the two of them stuck in traffic on the expressway, his jacket abandoned in the back seat, the sun baking the interior of the car.

He remembered the music first, loud, unapologetic. Beyoncé into Aretha into Gaga. She’d called it her ‘power woman playlist’ and refused to turn it down.

“You’re playing Run the World while we’re sandwiched between a garbage truck and a school bus,” he’d muttered, shooting her a look.

“And?” She’d been reclined slightly, foot on the dash like she owned the vehicle, sunglasses perched on her nose as she scrolled through her phone. “This tailback goes on for miles. We’re fucked.”

“Call Pepper and let her know?”

“You call Pepper! I’m not your secretary,” she’d muttered.

“She’ll kill me.” He whined.

“Great, then maybe I’ll finally be free of being stuck in traffic with you.”

He pulled a face, she stuck her tongue out. Neither of them prepared to incur the wrath of Pepper Potts. 

And now, here he was.

Back in motion. Moving forward. Making headlines.

And all he wanted was to be stuck in traffic with her again.

He just about fell into the car by the end of the day, he almost didn’t see it.

The sun caught the glint of it just right as he ducked into the Rover after another long day of pretending to be fine. Pepper had left him with a look that said You’re doing the work but you’re not here.

And now, in the dim light of the car’s interior, there it was. A slim chain, half-coiled and glittering under the drivers seat. Not flashy. Just a delicate gold bracelet with a tiny star charm, bent slightly out of shape. His breath caught in his throat.

He reached for it slowly, as though it might vanish. The clasp was broken, he remembered it now, so clearly, the way he’d gripped her wrist as her hand fisted in his shirt. How he’d heard something hit the floor and neither of them had cared.

It was such a small thing. Stupid, really. But as he turned it over in his fingers, the pressure that had been simmering under his skin since she walked away finally cracked.

He’d been punishing himself for the wrong thing. He wasn’t guilty for what they’d done, not really. He was guilty for what he hadn’t done. For letting her walk away thinking she was a mistake. He’d let her go, like he always did. 

He let people walk away from him because he thought that’s what they were supposed to do.

He looked down at the bracelet again, turned it over in his palm, then he closed his fingers around it.

Enough wallowing.

He didn’t know what he was going to say to her, not yet. But he’d find the words. He’d find her. Because whatever this was, mess or miracle, it wasn’t finished.

~~~~

Pepper was already in the car when he slipped into the backseat the following morning, still rolling the bracelet between his fingers in his pocket like it might start whispering directions.

She didn’t look at him right away, just scrolled something on her tablet, then spoke in that too-calm tone that meant she knew exactly what he was about to ask.

“I heard you tore apart your office looking for a driver’s file.” She sighed and finally looked up. “Bucky, I know you think this thing with her is some kind of disaster, but I’ve seen you during actual disasters. This isn’t one.”

“What if she doesn’t want me to find her?”

Pepper gave him the look, the one that could cow Tony on his worst days. “You would’ve done the same thing five years ago. Hell, two, even.”

“I don’t even know where she is.” He looked down at the bracelet in his palm. 

Pepper paused. Then, with a subtle movement, she slid a folded piece of paper from her planner and placed it on the seat between them. “She started working at a community kitchen on the east side. Wednesdays and Fridays.”

He stared at the paper.

“She didn’t give a forwarding address,” Pepper said lightly, “but I figured you’d get there eventually. You usually do.”

He picked up the paper without looking at her. Tucked the bracelet into his pocket.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Don’t thank me,” she said, going back to her tablet. “Just try not to screw it up twice.”

He didn’t intend to. He pulled up across the street from the community kitchen and just... sat there. Elbows on the wheel. Staring.

His phone buzzed in the cupholder and then half a second later came through the car speakers.

“You there yet?” Sam asked eagerly.

“I’m outside.”

“Then get out of the damn car.”

“I’m waiting for the right moment.”

“It’s not a hostage negotiation, man. It’s a community kitchen. You’re not even armed.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Alright, ok, fine. You want a play-by-play? Here it is. You go in. You apologise like a grown-ass adult. You tell her she means something to you. Boom. Done.”

Bucky put the car into gear and pulled away from the sidewalk.

“Jesus, are you circling the block again?”

“I’m scouting,” Bucky muttered.

“You’re stalling,” Sam snapped. “She’s not a bomb, Buck.”

“She could be,” Bucky grumbled. “Emotionally.”

There was a pause. Then Sam’s voice got soft, not mocking anymore. “You care about her. That’s scary. I get it. But you’ve already done the hard part. You let someone in. Now you just have to show up.”

Bucky pulled into a space a few meters further down the road. He exhaled slowly. His hand hovered over the door handle.

“…Go,” Sam said. “Go now.”

“I am,” Bucky said.

“You’re talking, not walking.”

“I am walking, shut up.”

“C’mon old man. Get your head in the game.”

Bucky laughed in spite of himself, then hung up. And finally, finally, he got out of the car.

The place smelled like spices and steam and something sweet baking. It was busy, loud with clattering trays and chatter, and she was behind the counter in a borrowed apron, laughing at something one of the other volunteers said. She froze. Just for a second. Then came around the counter, wiping her hands on a towel.

“If you’re here to yell -”  

“I’m not.”  

That gave her pause. “I thought you’d be furious.”  

“I was,” he admitted. “At myself.”  

She blinked. That clearly wasn’t the answer she expected.  

“So what are you doing here?” she asked, cautiously.

“I came to talk,” he says simply.

“You could’ve texted.”

“You wouldn’t have answered.”

She looked away, a flash of guilt in her eye.

“I didn’t come here to fight. I just… I needed to see you. I needed to tell you I’m sorry I let you walk away thinking you’d done something wrong.” He said quietly.

“Bucky…” she said softly. He drew in a shaking breath. “This isn’t the place.”

“I know. But I didn’t know if I’d get another chance.” 

Someone called her name. She glanced back toward the counter, then looked at him again.

“I have to finish my shift.”

“I’ll wait.”

“You don’t have to -”

“Yeah,” he tells her, “I do. I want to.”

She hesitated and then begrudgingly nodded. Then she turned back to the kitchen and got back to work. He watched her at first, laughing with her colleagues while she cooked. They had a rhythm, a cadence. She automatically, without fuss, stepped next to an older lady and lifted a large pan from the stovetop. She took the physical work away from the elderly volunteers in such a way that they didn’t notice.

While he waited, a delivery van pulled up and began unloading crates of soda, leaving them stacked just inside the door. He picked up the first couple of crates and one of the other volunteers beamed at him.

“Young man, that is so kind of you. Out the back please, there’s a shelf in the pantry.”

The driver arched an eyebrow as he brushed past her to the pantry. Then he made a second trip, and a third. Then he took over peeling potatoes from a man who needed to collect his kids from school.

At some point, someone took pity on his suit and threw an old apron over his head. By late afternoon, someone had posted a picture on Twitter and he could feel his phone blowing up in his pocket.

And when her shift ended, they walked out together.

“Can I walk with you?” He asked.

“You’re gonna leave the car there? Might not be there when you get back,” she sniggered.

“It’ll be fine.”

“There’s been pictures of you all over Twitter this afternoon.”

“I might have missed a few calls about that.”

“Can’t do your reputation any harm,” she shrugged.

“How’ve you been?” He asked.

“I’m… fine.”

“You ran -”

“Hardly, not in those heels.”

He didn’t laugh.

“I risked us getting caught. Your career would have been over. How’s the new guy?”

“Got the personality of a traffic cone.”

“Ouch, that’s cold,” she smiled faintly. “This is me.”

She nodded at the brown bricked building, clearly expecting him to say goodbye.

“Can I… Can I come up?” He asked.

She hesitated, unsure of what to say.

“Just to talk,” he assured her.

She turned and pushed the door open. She didn’t explicitly invite him in, but she left the door open behind her. He followed. Her apartment was small, lived-in, and warm. He’d barely stepped inside before she moved past him, tossing her keys into a bowl on the side and kicking off her shoes like she needed the extra second to collect herself.

“You want coffee or something?” she asked, already halfway to the kitchen.

“No,” he said softly. “I just wanted to talk some more.”

“Look, you’re the golden boy right now, Bucky. And I’m... I don’t want to be the girl who tripped you up.”  

“You’re not.” He crossed the space between them slowly, deliberately. “You didn’t ruin anything. You made me feel like… like I could actually make it through this.”

Their eyes locked, the silence thick enough to touch.

“I shouldn’t let you come up,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said.

Her fingers unclenched first, then her arms loosened. And still, neither of them moved.

Bucky stood there, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, yet still far enough that she had the space she needed. He watched her for a moment, searching her eyes like he was trying to figure out if this was the moment he’d fuck everything up again.

“You really think you ruined it?” His voice was quieter now, softer, like he wasn’t just asking, but letting her know how much he wanted her to say no.

She swallowed, lips pressing tight together, shaking her head. “I don’t know. I… I thought I had to leave before you saw it was all just... a mess. Before you realised you’d made the biggest mistake of your life”

“Have you not read my Wikipedia page?” He deadpanned. “No,” he continued, low and deliberate. “You weren’t the mess.”

She didn’t answer at first, her gaze flicking to his lips, then back up to his eyes. And then, as if the decision to cross that line was finally made for both of them, he reached for her.

The first touch was tentative, the barest brush of his fingers along her cheek, as if he was testing the waters. But when she didn’t pull away, he slid his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her in slowly, giving her the choice to stop him if she wanted to.

She didn’t. Instead, she met him halfway, pressing her lips to his, soft at first, but it didn’t stay soft for long. Her hands found his chest and twisted into his shirt, and he groaned, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss until they both forgot where they were, what they were supposed to be doing, what they were supposed to be avoiding.

It was messy. It was desperate. But it was everything. 

He broke the kiss first, forehead resting against hers as they both tried to catch their breath. His fingers shook as he touched her face, his thumb brushing across her bottom lip as though he was trying to memorise the feel of her, as though she might vanish the second he let go. She met his gaze, breath shallow.

“You’re sure?” He murmured.

Her hands slid under his shirt, warm against his skin. He wanted to say something, to tell her how much he’d wanted this, how much he needed her, but he couldn’t find the words. 

She was already pulling him toward the bedroom, her lips trailing fire down his neck as her hands worked at his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders.

He followed her lead, his lips finding hers again, more urgently now, more desperate. He lifted her effortlessly, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him down the hallway. 

He pushed her back onto the bed and for a moment, everything was still. He hovered over her, he wanted to take his time, wanted to touch and taste every inch of her. 

She sat up, reaching for him and kissed him again, harder, deeper, and that was all he needed.

He tugged the hem of her t-shirt, lifting it over her head and throwing it somewhere into the corner.

She gasped when he kissed down her neck, his hands trailing along her body, memorising every inch of her skin. He needed to be gentle and savor this moment with her, but everything inside him screamed for more. 

And when she pulled him down, urging him closer, he couldn’t deny it anymore. She reached for the button on her own jeans, but he batted her hand away.

“Nope, stay still,” he urged, dragging them down her hips. Everything he hadn’t seen in the darkness of the cramped backseat of the Rover was unravelling before him. The curve of her hips, the birthmark on her thigh. Everything about her was intoxicating. He reached behind to unhook her bra, pulling the straps down her arms.

“Bucky, please,” she sighed. He shook his head.

“Didn’t get to see you last time, sweetheart.”

He kissed a hot path down her body, and hooked his index fingers in the waistband of her underwear, waiting for her to lift up so he could pull them down.

“Keep your hands to yourself, doll." He smirked as she leaned back on her elbows, propped up so she could see him. 

He placed her legs over his shoulders and littered kisses from her knees up her thighs, settling at her center. 

With a final glance up at her, he traced his tongue through her folds before teasing her clit. A flurry of expletives and moans tumbled from her, she lay back again, unable to support herself on shaking arms. Instinctively, she reached down to run her hands through his hair again, he grabbed her hips and pulled her firmly against his mouth. 

"God, Bucky!" Her breath caught in a gasp. He kissed and licked random paths across her sensitive core before slipping two fingers inside her. 

He moaned, pressing his lips against her clit, her hips arched up towards him, a desperate attempt to find more contact. He caught the movement, his hands tightening around her hips as he held her steady.

"Patience, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice low and filled with need. "I want to take my time.”

"Please, Buck -" she whispered hoarsely, her voice desperate and pleading. 

He moved his hands to spread her thighs further open, his touch both gentle and firm. His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, leaving a trail of hot kisses as he moved closer again to her core. 

"Yessss," she sighed, her voice a desperate plea. "Please, there… please," she begged, her body arching towards his mouth.

He laughed softly at her lack of composure, enjoying the way she came undone under his touch. "That's what I like to hear," he growled, his breath hot against your skin. "Want you to beg for me.”

Her voice cracked on crying out his name once again and  he gave in. Buried his mouth between her thighs, slow at first, just enough pressure to make her hips lift again, greedy for more.  

And God, the sounds she made… they rewired something in him. His hands gripped her hips like he was anchoring himself.  

“Jesus,” he muttered against her skin, “you’re gonna ruin me.” But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. And when her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just so, he moaned against her, like it was his name on her lips that made the world spin.

Her thighs trembled around his head, the taste of her flooded his tongue. He didn’t rush, he didn’t let her slip away from the edge. He held her there, one arm wrapped under her hip, the other hand spread low over her stomach, holding her still while he worked her apart.

The first time, she came fast, too fast, hips bucking, breath catching, his name barely audible through the groan she bit down.

He didn’t stop.

“Bucky -” she gasped, fingers clenching in his hair.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, voice low and wrecked. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

He slid two fingers into her, curling just right, his mouth still soft and relentless. When she came again, it was with a choked cry, one hand fisting the sheets, the other clinging to his metal wrist.

And still, he didn’t let go.

When he finally rose over her, his mouth slick, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen, she reached up and traced where flesh met metal at his shoulder. He stilled under her touch. Watched her.

“You always this gentle with weapons?” he asked, trying for cocky, but it came out too soft.

She smiled, thumb brushing along the seam. “Only the dangerous ones.”

She was still breathing hard when he kissed her again, slow and deep, like he wanted to memorise her from the inside out. Her thighs were slick against his hips now.

“Bucky, please,” she whispered, and he felt it everywhere.

He lined himself up with a hand around himself, the other gripping her thigh. He paused, just long enough to look at her.

He pushed into her slowly, all the air leaving his lungs in one ragged breath. She was warm and tight around him, her body drawing him in inch by inch until he bottomed out with a low groan. Her nails dug into his back, her head thrown back against the pillow, pure heat and trust beneath him.

“Jesus,” he breathed, forehead dropping to hers. “You feel like…”

He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and rolled her hips, grinding against him, and all he could do was move with her, slow, deep, unhurried. He wasn’t trying to chase the end. It was everything he thought he couldn’t have, he wanted to savour every second. Every time she moaned his name, he felt something inside him unravel, and when her hand slid down to the metal of his arm, gripping tight, he nearly came from that alone.

“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered against her skin, lips brushing her cheek, her jaw, her mouth again. “I’m not gonna last.”

He drove into her again, this time harder, the rhythm losing its softness but not the meaning. She clenched around him, a sharp gasp escaping her as her climax surged through her again, this time with him inside her, gripping him, holding him there.

“Fuck -” he choked, the feeling of her coming undone around him undoing everything in him.

His control snapped.

One, two more thrusts and he was gone, spilling into her with a groan. He pressed his forehead to hers, trembling. 

They stayed like that, bodies tangled and damp, hearts hammering in sync, her fingers still gently threading into the short hair at the nape of his neck.

Still in her.

He didn’t pull away. Her legs were still wrapped tight around his waist, heels hooked just above the curve of his ass. 

She shifted slightly beneath him, and it made them both gasp, too much and not enough, all at once.

“Jesus,” he whispered, voice wrecked, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You feel… fuck, you feel like everything.”

One of her hands slid up his spine, nails grazing lightly, gently. The other curled at the back of his neck, holding him there like she didn’t want to let go. 

She was still breathing hard when he tucked her into his side, arm curled around her waist, nose pressed to her temple like he couldn’t quite believe she was real. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Just the soft sound of their breath, the slow return to normal. Then she shifted, just enough to hook her leg over his hip. His hand moved instinctively to her thigh, thumb brushing the crease where her leg met her hip. 

“You’re not done, are you?” she murmured, teasing, her voice rough and warm.

He huffed a laugh, low in his chest. “Not even close.”

She turned her head to look at him, eyes soft and a little smug. “Super soldier stamina?”

He met her gaze, that crooked smile playing at his lips again. “One of the perks,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

Her fingers traced lazy circles over the metal plates of his arm where it rested on her belly, curious and gentle. “Do you… feel it? When I touch this?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quiet now. “Not like flesh. But I feel you.”

Her touch slowed, thoughtful. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered following the paths of Wakandan gold with her fingertips. The plates and panels seemed to shiver under her touch. He traced the same pattern on her thigh. 

“I don’t know where this is going,” she said softly, “but… I want to find out.”

His hand curled around to grip her ass and pulled her closer. “We will… but first…” 

~~~~

Bucky was up before her. Still in bed, propped on one elbow as he watched her with a lazy, satisfied look that made her bury her face in the pillow to hide her smile.

“You’re staring,” she mumbled.

“You talk in your sleep,” he replied, completely deadpan.

She reached back to swat at him, but he caught her wrist easily, grinning as he kissed the inside of it. “Don’t worry. Still cute.”

She rolled over and narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re cocky in the mornings.”

“Mm,” he hummed, nuzzling her neck, “wonder why.”

She shivered and pushed at his shoulder. “You’re insufferable.”

“Probably,” he said, clearly unbothered. “Want coffee or something else first?”

“First time in my life I'm not gonna say coffee,” she smiled.

“I wouldn't worry about that, I thought up a house rule while you were sleeping.”

“It's my house?”

“You'll like it,” he told her as she rolled them both over to straddle his hips. “It's simple. Every time we enter a new room, I get to fuck you in it.”

She threw her head back with a laugh, “Yes, I am definitely into that rule.”

He sat up without warning, making her squeak in surprise, and stood with her in his arms. 

“So, coffee?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing. “I don't have many rooms.”

He grinned against her shoulder. “There's my place too, and we’ve only tried the backseat of the car... Better pace yourself.”

Later they curled up on her couch, mugs of coffee in hand, the remains of a shared croissant on the table between them. Her legs were tucked under his, and he hadn’t stopped touching her. A thumb brushing her ankle, his knuckles grazing her knee.

“So,” she said, watching him over the rim of her mug, “what happens now?”

Bucky glanced at her, “well… I’ve got an event tonight, five more campaign stops next week, a town hall on Thursday, and a guy who can’t drive, doesn’t bring snacks and listens to talk radio.”

She snorted. “Tragic.”

He nodded solemnly. “Yeah, it's not great… I want you back,” he said. “Not just in the driver’s seat. I mean, unless you want to. You were pretty great at it. But I want… this. You.”

She bit her bottom lip, hiding the smile he already saw anyway. “Even if I challenge you on literally everything?”

“Especially that.” He reached for her hand. 

“Alright then. But driver's radio privileges are back in force.” She warned lightly. 

He groaned. “Even the boy bands playlist?”

“Of course the boy bands playlist! And you’re telling Pepper.”

He leaned over to kiss her, and this time it was slow and certain. No more running, no more second-guessing. Just him and her and a quiet beginning to something that felt a lot like normality. 

FIN

[pomefioredove]

hi hi, so excited to see that you opened requests! i love your character analysis posts sm :)

i’d like to request rook, vil, & leona headcanons with a gn s/o who has a weaker immune system and gets sick/tired easily but has a bad habit of being reckless with their own health.

like half of the requests so far are incredibly specific to me and things I experience 😭 thank you all

summary: immunocompromised reader type of post: headcanons characters: leona, vil, rook additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, mentions of illness!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona may act apathetic, but that's not him

sooo not him

you drive him mad with the way you take care of yourself

just one word from you, and he'd have every doctor in every direction at your bedside

but nooope

"I'm okay, just tired," "don't worry, it happens all the time," 'I'll be fine!"

some days he just wants to sling you over his shoulder and carry you to the nurse himself

he begrudgingly settles for sending over herbs and tea, and dragging you to his bed for cuddles when you're sick

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

not unlike Leona, Vil isn't too pleased

you'd almost worried him to death the first time you got sick

he had his favorite doctor on speed dial when you casually dropped the "oh, I get sick all the time. I'll be fine," on him

which does not help

now, unlike Leona, Vil doesn't trust that you'll actually take his word

sick? he's at your bedside every second he can spare

healthy? he's stocking your kitchen with vitamins and supplements that'll boost your immune system

it's almost cute how he fusses over you

a little overbearing, but cute!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

unsurprisingly, Rook knows before you tell him

he's spent months by your side (and outside your window)

and, of course, even your illness piques his curiosity

a few weeks in, he'd already picked up a book or two on medicine and diagnosed you from there

"sorry, this happens a lot," but he already knows, and there's already a basket on your doorstep with medicine, vitamins, snacks and little handwritten love notes from him

sometimes it happens before you even feel sick

how does he know?

he just... does!

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Editing Part 4: Worldbuilding Pass

Next up, worldbuilding! We're tackling this before structure, because you don't want to get too far into the weeds, realize a critical component of your story is wrong, and then throw your computer out the window in frustration.

Anyway, when it comes to worldbuilding, there's a lot of moving parts. There is no right or wrong way to worldbuild, but my preferred approach is to worldbuild as the story goes along. Any method works, and you can check out the worldbuilding tag for more. In editing your worldbuilding, you want to think about:

Trimming Front-loading/Info Dumps

When writing fantasy/sci-fi, getting down how the world works can take over the story. In first drafting, this is fine! But when you're trying to clean that draft up, it's better to weave this information in as you go.

Need to explain how the giant mechas guarding the city operate? Maybe your main character is trying to steal some precious alloy from one, giving you opportunity to explain how they work and how society feels about them. Have a magic system that relies on singing tunes? Show that off by having students practicing, or dueling rivals taking it too far.

You probably know by now that the thing you should avoid the most is "as you know" dialogue dumps - characters explaining concepts to each other that they both clearly understand. Another, weaker version of this is the "magic class" trap, where things are explained to the main character and the reader. A classroom environment is fine, but pair worldbuilding with action - demonstrations get out of hand, spells go wrong, etc. Make it fun!

Your World Needs Clear Rules (Sorry)

Listen, this is the part I hate. I have a WIP with the word "Rules" in the title and I'm still figuring out what those rules are. Argh. But the sooner you know the rules, the easier editing will be. The more clear those rules are to the reader, the more impactful breaking them will be.

If the rules of the world (you can't use warp speed too close to a planet's gravitational pull, the same type of magic cancels each other out) and the consequences of breaking them are clear, the pay-off will be satisfying for both you and the reader.

Use Your Environment to Your Full Advantage

You've no doubt heard 'make setting a character' and that's evergreen advice. Some of the best books out there are those where it feels like you could step through the page and into a real place, be it your childhood middle school or Narnia. Getting that feeling, however, is more than just describing a place really well.

Mood - How does the location make you feel? Does a dark, cramped room leave the characters with a feeling of dread? How would that feeling change if it was an overstuffed library with comfortable chairs?

Weather - Beyond the 'dark and stormy night' descriptions, weather impacts our daily lives and is often overlooked. A rain-drenched funeral scenes seems like it's the way to go, but how differently would that scene feel if it was a sunny day with birds singing?

City Versus Countryside - These books are a great reference for description, but also take a step back to compare how different situations would feel both in the setting and to your character. Quiet can mean very different things depending on where you are. A morning fog in the countryside might feel comforting to someone used to it, but to someone new to that environment, it might feel creepy. Think about both your environment and how your character reacts to it based on their backstory.

The Empty Room Problem

This is always a big challenge when moving from the first draft bare bones basics to fleshing things out. How much description is too much? (As a note, it's always okay to overcorrect - you'll have a chance to fix it later!) This post from @novlr has a lot of great questions - but you're still going to narrow it down to the most important details.

Escape the Movie Setting - You cannot describe the room like it's a movie set. Trying to do so is going to be overwhelming, and important details will be lost in the attempt. If you were to describe your room or your favorite coffee shop and could only highlight four or five details, what would you focus on? What gives the reader the essence of the place rather than a list of things that exist there?

Establish the Essentials - Is this your first character's first time in this room? Is it going to be key to several plot-important scenes? Some big, sweeping details when entering - how big it is, what's in it, where the windows are, how it feels, etc - are good to start with. Your character can briefly admire a full bookshelf in the first scene, and then study it in more detail in the second. If you have one scene in this place and spend too much time describing it, you're going to make your reader think it's more important than it is.

Engage the Senses - Does an old room smell musty? Does the coldness of the woods have a sharp taste? Does touching a shelf bring up a lot of dust? How does the lighting in the room make the main character feel?

Getting down the description of a room or setting is not something you'll nail in one shot, but if you approach each scene asking yourself "does this feel like a real place or a white room?" you can narrow down what's missing.

[orphiclovers]

What's interesting about the Paradise arc is that its the first time our "genre expectations" are subverted in a major way.

Everything about the aesthetic of ORV- the system windows and stats and attributes and items and monsters- everything encourages you to think of it as a "video game". and without noticing, both the audience and the characters fall into this trap. Because we expect this kind of leveling player power fantasy to unfold a certain way, so many assumptions about the worldbuilding are automatically made even if there is no evidence.

In truth, we DIDN'T really wonder where they came from..... Gate opens, fantasy monsters pour out and attack, we kill them. its such a basic and ordinary set up you don't think to question it.

you start off weak without items and barely able to kill a 9th grade ground rat with a makeshift bone club, but then the further you go and the more "mobs" you kill, the more you grow and in turn stronger monsters appear until you're killing 4th grade species with unbreakable swords with divine attributes. it's a video game concept. the monsters just spawn because that's the game design and if you need some paper-thin justification for it just say "they're from another world" and that makes enough sense.

And yet, this assumption turns out to be just that. Naivety and willful ignorance. Nothing in the world just conveniently "spawns" from thin air for you to kill. This ISN’T a video game.

it is revealed that "the monsters" are also just incarnations like you, processed through farms, horrifyingly mutated, then locked up and starved until they're mad, then set loose by the dokkaebis wherever fighting need to happen. they're victims of the scenarios just like us, in fact they could even be the people you fought off other monsters with in a previous scenario.

fucked up! but to be fair, you could still fit this info into a darker video game concept like the Last of Us. It's just one mechanic that is subverted.

But they don't stop there. Even more basal assumptions are brought into question. Is there even an end to this? as justification for his actions, Reinheit says no.

The numbers of the scenario increasing naturally leads to the assumption that there is a final scenario. if you try hard enough, you kill the final boss. it's an ultimate goal to be striven for that drives many incarnations to keep fighting.

Furthermore, there are the constellations to give hope of possible escape.

And then Reinheit asks why we think the constellations have escaped.

Mic drop.

No one has ever reached the end of the scenarios.

The constellations aren't gods and the monsters aren't monsters.

Everyone is a victim and everything exists in the neverending cycle of exploitation and violence. THIS is the true revelation of Star Stream that Kim Dokja already knows.

It's all revealed here for the first time.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Training with the U.S. Agent

John Walker x fem!reader

warning : fluff, kiss, mutual feelings, kinda flirting, no use of y/n

Summary : With the former team around Val now taking care of the Thunderbolts, friendships were made and a family had just begun to form. The tower was rebuilt together by heroes and humans and at the housewarming party a shield bearer and an assistant get closer, both are drawn to each other but both might have a slightly different idea of a fulfilling evening just the two of them.

info : The somewhat flirtatious John I knew I wanted to write a more 'fun' one-shot. As always, have fun, thanks for all the support and see you next time!

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment she heard the tower being used again, the team around Val seemed to know that something was about to happen.

Everyone was working flat out to get the tower ready for the new hero, but no one could have guessed that her wonderful Sentry would become so big that the whole city would be in danger.

The biggest monster wasn't the flying shadow, no, it was Valentina who was the monster in all of this and since the Thunderbolts had killed the city and its inhabitants, everything seemed to have calmed down a bit.

Val was more or less free under surveillance, safe in the knowledge that one misstep could land her in jail, because without her team she would have happily joined the Thunderbolts.

They had all turned their backs on their former boss, the know-it-all bossy beast who was most likely to have to answer for everything in court...but the Thunderbolts needed her as legal cover.

So it was that the Thunderbolts' new team of assistants scurried around the tower with their new bosses, who were more friends than employers.

Because you should never judge a book by its cover, a turn of phrase that suited the superhero group, they may all have a dubious past but it didn't matter in the face of the kindness and helpfulness they all showed.

The heroes and the humans worked together to rebuild the tower that was damaged, especially the three super soldiers were useful for the heavy bricks, steel beams and windows.

Ava was great for the technical stuff, whether it was the internet or all the holographic stuff in the lab, she was a great help to the technicians.

Yelena and Bob also did their best and when it came to decoration and design, the interior of the tower slowly but surely took shape.

It had taken more than a year, but when the heroes and their team held a small inauguration party in the tower, it seemed for a moment as if the spirits of the old Avengers were also here.

“A tower for the sign of hope and cooperation” she had said at the end of her little speech before her audience had fallen into applause and cheers.

The evening had been entertaining, the bar was open, the food freshly prepared and the conversations lively about further opportunities, private life and a few relationships...and perhaps she looked over a little too often that evening at the blond super soldier who was having a drinking contest with Alexei.

Sipping on her beer and occasionally munching on the snacks, she couldn't get away from John, but how could she not?

Since the moment they had all been working on the tower reconstruction and she had been working with John in the training room, she took over the mats and he hung up the punching bags.

It was a few hours together but in all that time she didn't see the man in the magazines and the press, he wasn't violent, he wasn't rogue or anyone wrong.

John was nice, friendly, courteous, polite at first until the mood between them loosened and she even seemed to see an almost flirtatious side, he was a broken man who had been let down by the system that had made him great.

Now he was doing the right thing to right his 'wrongs' and help people the way he always wanted to and had done.

Especially when he was finished with his task in the room much quicker, he took the last few months from her in one movement with a “Let me help the dear lady” and brought them to the other side of the room.

He almost seemed to enjoy the fact that she gave him an eye roll, “If you had a little more time Walker, I would have only needed ten more minutes,” she returned, indicating that she could only carry or pull one of the mats needed for the hand to hand combat.

The muffled thud of the mats rippled through the room as he just smirked, “Now we can spend the ten minutes if you want on other things” he had offered her before she shook her head slightly knowing she had to follow, the setting up of the training room was far from over.

The party was a boisterous evening that went on for several hours, a time when Yelena and Ava played matchmaker.

John and she were pressed together at every opportunity by the two women, whether it was getting drinks, eating or just talking.

She was either holding on to him to make room or he was gently holding her in place so she didn't get knocked over by the waitress and the drinks tray, “We seem to meet quite often,” she heard him say over the noise and her hand was already back on his arm as she moved closer to him again when Yelena almost generously took a swing at dancing.

The dance floor was relatively full but they would surely find room there, even if she could feel her nervousness, her heart beating fast whenever she saw him like this.

“Yes, you're right...Walker would you like to-?” her question as she overcame her fear, finally wanting to ask him for a dance but was interrupted by him as his hand placed itself on hers.

“Say, how about some private training?” a counter question that caught her a little off guard before she felt the heat on her ears, either it was an ambiguous innuendo or he was leading her somewhere else.

A quick glance at her friends, Yelena and Ava only cheered to themselves as they realized the whole thing, their joy seemed to grow as he led her out of the large main room, past her friends and his, past people celebrating, and she could hear everyone's questions the next morning.

It was only a few minutes before they arrived in the training room which turned on the lights as they entered, her gaze going to John who walked to the back of the room, although the shooting range would not have been her choice for some fun but to each their own.

The quick glance in the mirror attached to one side let her know that her dress was still wrinkle free, the highheel made her taller but not long enough for her to catch John's eye, the make up of Yelena and Ava getting some attention.

He's just a good-looking super soldier you can do this she thought to herself and walked the last few meters, her fingers already lightly on the shoulder fabric about to pull it down when she saw a broadly smiling John holding out earmuffs to her.

It was John Walker of course, the former soldier, ex Captain America and now somehow U.S. Agent was a training fanatic...but who would have thought that by private training he really meant training.

Not stopping the smirk that came to her lips she muttered, “You really are a soldier” to which he only replied with a slightly confused, “Yes of course I am” she waved him off as she put on her protectors and saw the case with the gun.

Maybe she wasn't a super soldier, she wasn't a black widow or able to walk through objects, but she had done some training too, every assistant would do well to at least be able to defend herself against people.

Taking the gun, disengaging the safety and raising it in front of her, she aimed at the target hanging at the other end of the wall and fired.

One bullet followed the other, her concentration on the shot even as she felt John's gaze on her, only when the magazine was empty did she put the safety back on, take off the ear muffs and turn back to him, “So how did I do?” she asked innocently.

She could see that he was impressed, but there seemed to be something else in his gaze as he didn't take his eyes off her, she could just see him walking away.

Just as she was about to turn around again, she noticed the movement, he pressed her lightly against the slab, his hands on her hips and she finally felt the kiss she had hoped for from this pretext.

Walkers own patience was gone as she heard the murmured, “You were perfect” as he broke away from the kiss only briefly, as he looked at her, as he looked at the love he had wanted to kiss for so long.

His hands on her hips gave her the opportunity to release them at any time, she saw excitement in his gaze as he moved from her asus to her lips.

When they both finally had what they wanted from the evening, when they finally had each other, when the eternal dancing around each other was gone.

As much as John loved his weapons, nothing beat the weapons of love and with the party still going on, no one would notice if they reappeared together a little later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@neska223 , @brisselfshipping , @bribrisposts , @redlightgreenlight01 , @arickaandherfictionalothers , @marvelnerd18 , @eurydicesxshadow , @addi-florida , @celebrimborcoulddestroyme , @panda-b0s , @marebeario , @crimsonkingart , @warlikebisexual , @tallulinha

[pis3update]

Remove Tutorial and Beta Images - To attempt to reduce RAM load by Dandelion Sprout

"I noticed during various testing of system graphics options that gameplay and framerate slowdowns were somewhat proportional to how much RAM that Windows Control Panel showed that the game was using. In detailed worlds the game can hit 2.9 GB RAM use, at which point the game begins struggling more than usual with Error 12, astoundingly long loading/saving times, or simply crashing to desktop.

So I began pondering, how would it be possible to try to reduce the heavy taxing on the RAM allocations? I landed on trying to remove images (by creating 1x1px transparent images to override them) that would be unnecessary for core gameplay by expert Sims 3 players, mostly across 2 categories:

Images used in the "Tutorials" menu, as they accounted for around 100 MB in total.

Beta build images and placeholder images for vanilla Sims 3 that were still present in the release version's "FullBuild0" assets. Accounts for around 25 MB

...continued + more pictures on MTS."

More Info + Download @ MTS.

[muffinrecord]

Magia Exedra Stream News

Post originally made by Razielim on discord. I'm copypasting it to the letter so that other folks can see the news (and to help answer questions that folks have). This is a long post, enjoy!

--

The Magia Exedra News Stream has just concluded and the news are highly positive for us MagiReco players! An absolute truckload of new info about the game was just released, so let's go over the news one by one!

The stream started off with a quick overview of the evolution of Magia Record's story throughout the years, from Arc 1 to Arc2, to Puella Historia, and to Scene0.

We were then given a quick overview of the data that the MagiReco Archive App (which the MagiReco app itself will turn into once the service has ended) will show us. The archive app provides the following:

Your Magical Girl info screen, from which you can view all of your Magical Girls and their levels/Memo Slots/Magia Levels/Transformations, etc.

Your info archive, which shows off the information of all the Magical Girls, Memoria, Doppels, Witches, and Uwasa that you have encountered during you Magia Record career.

Then, a new Teaser Trailer for Magia Exedra is shown off, which you can find here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_KwtjOarUI The new teaser shows off various spin-off characters, such as Oriko, Suzune, Tart, and Kazumi, followed by Madoka and Iroha holding hands before showing the Lighthouse and the green Kyubey-like creature greeting us.

Following this, a new VA is welcomed to the stream, the VA of "Namae", Akari Komiyama.

Multiple spin-offs are also confirmed to be featured in Magia Exedra, including:

Magia Record

Suzune Magica

Oriko Magica

Tart Magica

(- Kazumi Magica, while not specifically mentioned, was shown in the above Teaser Trailer)

More information about the story and setting of Magia Exedra We have been given more detailed information about the story of Magia Exedra. The Lighthouse we have seen many times now is supposed to function like a guide for the souls of Magical Girls. For some reason, it is malfunctioning and we have to gather the Light of Memories to repair it.

The player will be tasked to enter into the Windows of Memory to find the Light of Memories from the memories of various Magical Girls.

Our player character is named "Namae" (will most likely be re-named by the player during the tutorial) who has lost most of her memories but still remembers having been a Magical Girl, and looks like a non-descript black silhouette. She will be tasked with searching for the Light of Memories.

The green Kyubey-like creature that assists us is called "A-Q" and is not technically a Kyubey

Character Teasers! We have been shown a character teaser for Madoka , which can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bLy6AExK2VE as well as a character teaser for Iroha , which can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DeMc7T-zwPg

Additonally, the 3D models for both characters have been shown off in the livestream.

Afterwards, another teaser showing slight glimpses of gameplay have been shown, which featured mostly Mami and Madoka walking through a Witch labyrinth, before lining up with Iroha to face Charlotte. This particular teaser has so far not been uploaded to the official Exedra youtube, but the most important screenshots of it have been attached to this post as an image.

What are Portraits? Magia Exedra will feature a system of equippable items to grant your characters various bonuses. These come in the form of "Portraits", which are in effect the exact same as "Memoria" in Magia Record. Just like Memoriae, the Portraits will feature images of various scenes and characters that appear in the story. A few of these have been shown off during the livestream.

There is also a special Portrait for MagiReco players; more on that below.

The MagiReco to Exedra Transfer System As was mentioned before, once Magia Record ends service and transforms into the Archive App, players will be able to view their Exedra Transfer Code from the Archive App. Entering this code into Exedra once it launches, will grant the player various benefits and allow you to transfer various data to Exedra.

We have now been granted more information as to what exactly this will entail:

You can view your MagiReco Account's data, such as Magical Girls, Memoria, Transformation videos, etc.

(Note: You can VIEW this information. You will not GAIN your playable characters or Memoriae for play in Exedra.)

You will gain special titles in Exedra, based on your highest Mirror Ranking Score and your Account's overall player score

You will gain a special Portrait (the Exedra equivalent of Memoriae) in Exedra

(- Further bonuses may potentially be added to this function before release)

Furtermore, our pleas to conserve MagiReco's stories for the future have been heard and as part of the developers' goodwill, the following MagiReco stories will be uploaded in video form to the official Exedra youtube:

Main Story Arc 1

Main Story Arc 2

Puella Historia

Scene 0

Some events, such as:

Cherry Blossom Dreams / Dreaming Sakura (Trial event)

From New Breath / A New Beginning (2nd Anniversary event)

Green Jasper Diviners

Crimson Resolve

Dependence Blue

Ashen Revolution

Paradise Shift

Magia Day continues! The once-a-year celebration of Magia Record will continue in a new form! Magia Day will be held again this year on the 25th of August and will now evolve into a news event for Magia Exedra! Various VAs will meet up in person and provide us with even more information about Magia Exedra. Here's to hoping that this year we will see the Mokyuu button again.

After this, the Exedra News event concluded with the VAs waving bye-bye

Summary of Platform-related Information So, can you play the game on PC? On mobile? In english? The answer to all of that is YES

First off, the game is available on Mobile and PC. Both Android and iOS versions will exist, although currently pre-registration is only available on Android. The English Android version can be found here: https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.aniplex.magia.exedra.en And the Japanese Android version here: https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.aniplex.magia.exedra.jp

While in the Android store the app is seperated between an english installation and a japanese installation, on PC there is only a singular entry. The steam PC version can be found here: https://store.steampowered.com/app/2987800/Madoka_Magica_Magia_Exedra/

This seems to point towards Exedra having a combined English/Japanese version, possibly sectioned into multiple servers depending on your Player Region. This however is still a speculation and not yet confirmed.

There is still no further information on the exact release date of Magia Exedra, but this may possibly be revealed during Magia Day on the 25th of August.

Hold up, what if the game shows as not available for me? Okay so here is kind of a little problem. From what we can tell, the game may not be available in every country. We do not currently have a specific list of countries that the game is available in, but it seems to be somewhat random. Our guess is that the developers secured the Distribution Rights for the game in what they believed to be their most important target countries, which may leave some players in various countries unable to normally play the game. We suggest you click on the android link above and see if the store allows you to pre-register or if it tells you that the item is not available in your country.

If the game is not available for you: Do not despair just yet. First off, its possible that more countries will be cleared as the game nears its release. Secondly, even if the game ends up releasing region locked for you, there are still ways around it such as using a VPN on Android, or making a Steam account of a different country. We are not able to provide specific instructions regarding this yet, as we need to wait and see how the region lock might be implemented anyway. If instructions regarding how to circumvent the region-lock is required, users on this discord will most likely be able to provide such information once the game goes live.

Finally, some general Gameplay info: In Magia Exedra, you will be able to enter various Witch Labyrinths. Within these, you will be traversing the regions of the labyrinth and encounter various battles. In battles, you will make use of a party of up to 5 Characters at once to take down your opponents.

Battles are turn-based and you can see the Turn Order on the left side of the screen. There seems to be various attack options, including a Special meter below each character that most likely is linked to their Magia, but no concrete information on this has been revealed. A "Break" system is additionally implemented, where attacks of Elemental Types that are Super Effective against the opponent will wear down their defense and ultimately put them in a weakened state after enough pressure has been applied. Yes, this combat system is almost a 1:1 re-creation of the combat of Honkai: Star Rail, including the Break system Personally I dont mind this much as I find the Star Rail combat system to be highly enjoyable. Auto-Battle and Speed-Up seems to be included as well.

Characters themselves have an Element to them, similar as in Magia Record. Currently we know of at least 6 Elements: Water, Fire, Forest, Light, Dark, and an unnamed sixth Element that may be something like Void /Physical/Non-Elemental/Something else. All of this information is gleaned from promotional material and has not yet been officially revealed, so take all of this with a grain of salt. The elements that an enemy is weak to (and will therefore cause enemies to become Broken) are listed next to the Boss's HP and Break bar at the top of the screen. Additionally, characters can of course be equipped with Portraits (which are basically Memoriae) as described above.

Confirmed Characters: A lot of characters have been shown off already in some capacity or another. Among these, the following have been shown in the trailer, but not in-game:

Suzune

Oriko

Kazumi

Tart

While the following characters have also been shown in battle in promotional material found on the game's Steam page:

Madoka (Light)

Sayaka (Water)

Mami (Forest)

Kyouko (Fire)

Homura (Dark)

Iroha (Light)

Yachiyo (Water)

To close the news with: One of the screenshots on the Steam page shows the Home Screen of the game, which includes buttons for: Room of Light, Shop, Gacha, Party, Quest, Union, and Player Match.

What these buttons are for, are of course up for you to guess.

--

Everyone say "thank you" to Razielim for writing all of this out so that the game is more accessible to English players :)

Hopefully this helps folks become more informed on tumblr too!

[dewinthestars]

How to Romanticize Studying Alone & Actually Stay Focused 📄‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

Idk about you all, but I love being around others when i’m studying, but others either aren’t studying or you keep yapping until you realize whoops! Hours went by!

1. Set the Vibe with Music or Ambience

• Lo-fi beats, piano instrumentals, or soft indie songs? Pick a playlist that makes studying feel cozy.

• Try a background café ambience, library sounds, or even rain noises for extra ✨ focus energy

• Noise-canceling headphones? A game changer.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

2. Create a Dedicated Study Spot

• Even if it’s just clearing off your desk or making a cozy corner with a blanket and pillows.

• Light a candle, grab a warm drink, and pretend you’re in an aesthetic study montage.

• If your usual spot feels meh, try moving locations—your brain loves novelty!

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

3. Romanticize Your Study Materials

• Use colorful pens, cute sticky notes, and make your notes look good (but don’t get lost in ✨over-decorating✨).

• Handwrite key points to help your brain process info better.

• If digital notes are more your thing, organize them neatly with a color-coded system.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

4. Use a Timer to Stay on Track

• The Pomodoro method (25 minutes studying, 5-minute break) keeps you focused without burnout.

• Try “study with me” videos to feel like you have a virtual study buddy.

• Don’t trust yourself? Use a website blocker to keep distractions away.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

5. Romantic Study Breaks Only

• Stand up, stretch, make tea, or look out the window and daydream like you’re in a Studio Ghibli movie.

• Avoid doom-scrolling—your break should feel refreshing, not like a black hole of social media.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

6. Make it a Solo Study Date

• Wear comfy clothes, make your favorite drink, and treat your study session like an act of self-care.

• Reward yourself after! A good meal, a cozy movie, or a walk outside = motivation to keep going.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

7. Remind Yourself: You’re Romanticizing Growth

Studying alone isn’t boring—it’s you investing in yourself, your knowledge, and your future. Even the small efforts add up. Keep going, and soon you’ll look back at this moment with pride. 🤍

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Reposts, like, comments and shares super appreciated 🤍🤍

[lornaka]

My five cents on Tech’s fate in TBB

It’s been over three weeks since the show ended and I’ve been writing this in my head ever since, mostly to have it summed up in one post for posterity lol. I considered letting it go at this point but I know it’ll drive me crazy if I don’t get it out of my system so might as well.

So here we go, some of my rambly post-finale thoughts on Tech’s death (and a few other issues) under the cut!

Disclaimer: while this post is in critical spirit (because that’s how my brain works), I want to make clear that I have nothing but respect and gratitude towards everyone who’s worked on the show. My criticisms are of the final story as a whole as I interpret it (art is art, everything is subjective, you know the drill), but one never knows what goes into the process of making it behind the scenes, so I’m not holding anything against the creative team. I love this show dearly and am in awe of how good it is at its best, despite certain things I wish they did differently.

To begin, if I had to sum up the biggest problem that TBB writing suffers from, it would be lack of closure, and too many red herrings. Not just for Tech, but many things. Major plot threads as well as little character moments are cultivated or thrown in just to never culminate in anything or to be immediately discarded after serving the plot, some of them incredibly misleading. Some of the top examples:

- Crosshair’s chip. We never get an exploration of how the trauma of his chip activating and being left behind not only affected his motivation and choice to stay with the Empire, but his relationship with his brothers. While it was made fairly obvious, if subtly, that Crosshair became free of the chip’s influence after getting hit by the ion engine on Bracca, the narrative treated this change as if it didn’t matter at that point, while it obviously mattered a lot within the context of Crosshair’s character. Add to that all these little details with him clutching his head in s1 finale, Omega expressing her disappointment in him, and Tech’s comment on how “it is just his nature” (as if it matters!!! See what I mean about the narrative treating Cross’s chip as if it didn’t play the key part in his trajectory? They throw in this line, like we are supposed to take away that it’s simply Crosshair being Crosshair and not like, the results of brainwashing and abandonment), Wrecker blaming Crosshair for not going back to them, all while we as the audience have been shown and told repeatedly how these chips work (and so were the Batch), we ended up with an incredibly confusing situation with lots of mixed signals from the writers. And once Crosshair makes his choice to stay with the Empire in s1 finale, his chip and the confusion it brought to his relationship with his brothers is never brought up again, because the plot simply moves on.

- Cid’s betrayal. After her being a major character for two seasons with a continuous relationship build-up with Omega in particular, she is discarded as soon as her betrayal serves the plot, with all that character development getting thrown out of the window. You can be mad at Cid all you want, but to me it’s incredibly weird and wasteful to end two seasons worth of build up on that note without it having any closure for the characters, especially Omega whose whole theme is trusting people and bringing out the best in them. It’s fine if they decided to make Cid exactly what she appeared on the surface (untrustworthy and self-serving) after playing around with her potentially growing through her fondness of Omega, but then at the very least the betrayal should’ve had an impact on the characters, Omega most of all. Even just one casual line from Omega in s3 about how Cid’s betrayal impacted her emotionally, however minimally, would have solved that problem. And no, CX-2 mentioning how he extracted info on Phee from her off screen absolutely doesn’t count as closure, because I’m talking about emotional closure for the main pov characters as well as the audience. Cid had a presence for two seasons, then as soon as she executed her role as a traitor to further the plot, she was discarded like she was a random extra.

- Emerie’s relationship with Hemlock. We are led to believe that he basically raised her, instilling in her the idea that she had no chance without him and owed her purpose and “safety” to him. You can’t tell me that this didn’t deeply affect her struggle and eventual decision to break away from all that and choose to help the kids, basically betraying Hemlock. I get that the show only had so much screen time and Emerie is a supporting character in season 3 at best, but common, she has more tension with Dr. Scalder than Hemlock while the potential for this rich deep conflict between them is right there.

I can probably list more smaller examples but this is getting long and I don’t want to go on any more tangents, so, finally, the biggest example of lack of closure and tendency of TBB writing to display foreshadowing that leads nowhere:

Tech’s death.

First of all, I’ll die on the hill that it wasn’t denial or delusion that led to such a big portion of the audience to believe that Tech didn’t really die in s2. If we look at the facts:

- there was no body

- it’s the finale of season 2 out of 3, pretty early for one of the main titular characters to get killed off

- the only/last character to allegedly see Tech after his fall is a villainous scientist who is known to experiment on clones specifically

- not a fact but: the whole scene with Hemlock presenting Tech’s goggles to Hunter was incredibly suspicious. In hindsight, I think the whole purpose of it was so that the Batch got Tech’s goggles back in their possession as a memento (and to show how evil Hemlock is to rub it into Hunter’s face like that) but it was executed in a way that read as something much more. It read as if Hemlock was going out of his way to convince us/Hunter of Tech’s death, but with us knowing who Hemlock is, his background in experimenting on clones, everything screams at us to not trust a word he says. Is it really so surprising that so many of the viewers immediately jumped at the conclusion that something more was going on there?

- Hunter’s (lack of) reaction/immediate narrative fall-out. More on that later as I address lack of emotional impact of Tech’s death in s3.

- it’s Star Wars. And there was no body.

So yeah, to me, it is completely justified that so many people read that whole thing as open to speculation at the very least, foreshadowing Tech’s survival at most.

Personally, I was 70% sure Tech was truly dead prior to s3, but not because the text told me so, but because at that point I was used to the show’s writing regularly sending out mixed signals, and a part of me was resigned to Tech’s death becoming another example of the writer’s intent clashing with their accidental empty foreshadowing.

As season 3 aired and the whole CX-2 plot was unfolding alongside continued lack of closure for Tech’s fate, my hope for Tech Lives reveal grew and grew, but in the end my initial doubt was proven right, unfortunately.

Oh, CX-2.. what a mess. You can’t tell me the creators went over all of these scenes, all of these lines, looked at the whole picture and *didn’t* see how it was incredibly easy to interpret CX-2 as potentially being Tech with all these little potential parallels. “Domicile” alone.

If they didn’t want us to entertain the idea that it could be Tech, they could’ve done it differently, but for some reason, they chose to leave that space for speculation. My question is, why?

If they truly wanted us to believe Plan 99 was it, Tech’s Noble End that we were supposed to take as this dramatic super emotional ultimate sacrifice and all that, then why would they not make it clear that CX-2 couldn’t be Tech? Why breed confusion? And breed confusion they did. It’s hard for me to believe they didn’t foresee the “ohh is it Tech?” speculation.

When so many members of the audience immediately and individually jump at a theory or have the same take away from the story they are being told, yet the authors say it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, something went seriously wrong with the writing.

I don’t like to speculate on such things because we will probably never know for certain, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they had at some point considered CX-2 being Tech or at least something more for the whole CX plot thread, but changed and reshuffled things at the last minute for whatever reasons.

Which is fine and understandable. But it brings me to the heart of my biggest issue with how Tech’s fate was handled:

lack of impact and closure.

Let’s disregard all the Tech Lives theories for a moment and focus on what we did get: Tech, one of the main characters, getting killed off at the end of s2 out of 3, for stakes and consequences and NOTHING else. When I say nothing, I mean nothing.

Imagine, for a moment, he survived and stayed with the Batch. Nothing would have changed, in the grand scheme of things. Nothing. We wouldn’t have had a few obligatory “Tech mention, everyone feel sad now” throwaway lines/goggle shots and whatnot, sure, but that’s it.

Tech dying didn’t change the trajectory of the plot in any way, nor did it affect any of the other characters in a way that changed their trajectory. And anything less is simply not enough to justify killing one of your main characters. Stakes and consequences ain’t it.

Consider Mayday, for example: a supporting character, but his death in s2 affected Crosshair in such a way it completely redirected his journey, AND in s3 we got an episode that cemented the impact Mayday had on Crosshair and provided emotional closure for them. That’s a narratively meaningful death.

Tech’s death was not meaningful to the narrative beyond removing him from it. That’s why so many Tech fans insist he deserved better treatment: not only was he not present in one third of the show physically, but he lacked any sort of presence even in death. His absence was never processed or grieved by any of the main characters and so by extension by the audience.

And before anyone starts with the whole ‘they are soldiers/they had no time to grieve/etc’ arguments, it is the responsibility of the writers to provide the space for all of that emotional impact. It they don’t, there is no impact.

A few reactions here and there, moments of missing Tech as a person and a brother, not an asset, anything would have made this whole thing easier to accept.

The lines that we did get, from Omega mentioning the stuff Tech taught her to Echo commenting on how decryption would be easier if Tech was with them to “Clone Force 99 died with Tech” from Crosshair - each and every single one of those lines linked to Tech’s functions as part of the squad, his usefulness, but we didn’t get a single line in remembrance of him as a person of his own, no one missed or remembered him for himself or his personal impact on them.

Just one line from Omega about how he taught her about change being a constant part of life or whatever, or Wrecker making a comment on how Tech used to info dump about stuff, anything would have instantly provided that much needed sense of “he was here, he was a person and is still a part of us”. Instead, Tech was killed off to show that messing with the Empire is dangerous and risks are real, I guess, and immediately lost any and all presence within the story.

We never even got to see Crosshair’s or Phee’s reactions to losing him.

Speaking of Crosshair, that’s a whole other example of complete lack of closure: they never closed the loop on the family being reunited again after initially leaving Crosshair behind, and with Tech dead, it’ll forever stay broken.

They could’ve given this a bittersweet yet meaningful spin if they developed the angle of Tech dying on a mission to bring Crosshair home, making a sacrifice so Crosshair had a chance.

Instead, the moment Tech dies, we get Hunter (and through him, the narrative) immediately abandon the idea/plot thread of going to rescue Cross all while saying “let’s not waste Tech’s sacrifice”. Sacrifice for what? Clearly Hunter doesn’t see it as a sacrifice for Crosshair’s sake, so, what, to make sure the rest of them makes it from the mission? The mission to save Crosshair. That mission. Right.

I see people talking about Tech’s noble sacrifice that ensured his family got to live and eventually have their happy ending, but all I can think about is how the creators chose to have him die on a mission that was immediately abandoned and the only take away from that whole sub plot was Tech’s own demise.

And after Crosshair is back with the Batch, his reaction to Tech’s death is never explored at all.

So yes, to me Tech deserved so much better. If you are going to kill off a major character, it must be necessary to be compelling. The way I see it, Tech’s death was not necessary at all because it didn’t change anything. And if it was meant to, the creators failed to communicate that by choosing not to explore the emotional impact of it and not structuring certain story beats in a more precise manner.

To wrap this up, if the way Tech’s death was handled was satisfying for you, that’s valid and I’m glad for you. For me, unfortunately, it’s completely the opposite and will forever remain the biggest and most unfortunate low point in the story.

And while I welcome anyone to share their own perspective if they wish, please don’t take this post as an invitation for debate, since there is no one right or wrong way to interpret or be affected by art.