#anyway punk did nothing wrong as usual

[whatpunkin]

anyway

fuck the mediocre nepo baby who needs other people to make him seem interesting

fuck the hateful fundie dickheads who should have never had a position of authority while being a part of the roster in the first place

fuck their entire little high school mean girl clique made up of grownass adults who should know better

and fuck their clueless fucking boss who should have grown a fucking spine and stopped their bullshit before it spiraled into a problem every FUCKING time

[hollowsart]

Guy Gardner: Green Lantern!

Finally finished my redesign and ref sheet for this guy !!

I'm leaving the PL design cuz it slaps and also it's funny and I wanna make it canon that he got that ring at some point and had to deal with that for awhile. (he made it work. had fun)

he had an experience once with a red ring and he hated every minute of it. he's always running from it.

Anyways, he gives me cowboy and punk vibes.

miscellaneous info: (sorry if anything sounds repetitive)

--

Had a terrible upbringing, was not the favored child, often told he was a disgrace and compared often to his brother, really messed with his mental health and self perception.

Rebelled a lot in spite of his father. mother did nothing to help him, only one good point in high eyes is that at least she didn't hurt him. He doesn't have a great relationship with his family and has a bit of loathing towards his brother He has since become estranged from his family by choice.

Further rebellion lead to him living a more punk life, going against his father, a cop. He's living how he feels comfortable and free without the expectations from his family. Anything that would get a rise out of his dad? Oh, he's gonna do it. He's grown out of it, but sometimes the habits die hard Hard to give up, hard to move on.

Guy struggled to keep a job for years, finding and taking whatever he could. The last job he had before he was found by Abin Sur's ring was as a teacher for a local school. He was about to be fired and needed a new job anyway. He was happy to take it and escape his earth life for a little while. A further rebellion against his family, he'll claim, but really it was an escape from his miserable life at the time.

As a result of his constant search for a job, he's gained a lot of experience and knowledge with a wide array of things, such as swimming, coaching, cooking, mechanics, engineering, mending, dancing-- He's not a professional at any of these, he's quite rusty with some of them, but he's still very capable if these skills are ever needed.

With the ring, Guy finally found a job that he was good at, successful. It was one he didn't fumble catastrophically. He loves the GL corps and will do whatever he can to keep it, it's a place he feels accepted and liked. even if his personality and attitude may be a little hard to digest and tolerate for some. He's very passionate and cares a lot despite how stubborn and brash he may act.

The GL corps is really all Guy has. He puts a lot of his devotion into it. it's the only consistently positive things in his life. It's the one thing he would never run from. He would honestly defend the corps with his life, taking the oath to heart. His word is his bond and he values it.

Often gets into fights, is usually the one who starts it whether he intended to or not. He does finish them, at least.... well. If possible, he tries to. Albeit.. not in the best of ways. He still has a lot to learn.

Guy overcompensates his fears and worries, his anxieties with an overconfident and boastful, loud and abrasive attitude. His more vulnerable side is one that less than 5 people have ever seen and know of. He'd rather people see him as a dirtbag than as any less than a man. His dad instilled a lot of negativity towards himself from a young age. Feeling inferior. Anything goes wrong? Guy is bottling that up and taking it out on training dummies and letting it out in his room with a drink or two.

[thepepsislvt]

RRRRRROBERRT

can i get some law x ftm reader w mutual pining where they’re both too bad at feelings to actually approach each other with anything, but the whole crew is like “…y’all are boning, right?” BC ITS SO OBVIOUS TO EVERYONE BUT THEM 😭

yes you can my good sir

Law X Reader (no pronouns mentioned)

Mutual pinning!

Warnings: overwhelming fluff, shachi, penguin

word count: 803

The entire crew knew that Law and Y/n both liked each other. It was painfully obvious. Right?

Well apparently not because Y/n and Law did not know of each other feelings. They thought they were just friends with absolutely no feelings. I mean it was hard to tell with Law since he hated being around people.

Right?

Well, Shachi and Penguin seem to think otherwise. They always seem to think they’re always right. Even when you know they’re wrong. You were hoping they were right about this one. And you were also hoping that the two would stop asking if “y’all were boning”

Every day you fall deeper in love with him. The way he talks and stands. Every small glance he gives you makes you feel like your heart is about to jump out of your chest. Everything about him was just perfect. you just wish you had the words to tell him how much he meant to you. Little did you know that Law was thinking the same thing about you.

Tonight was an exhausting one, the entire crew had just helped the Straw Hats on Punk Hazard, and now everyone was trying to relax. Most everyone had fallen asleep except for You, Bepo, and your Captain. You and Law were sitting across from each other not saying a word. As the silence began to grow you started to overthink your entire relationship with your captain. ‘Did you hate him?

Or was it just because you were stubborn and weren't as open as you were to him as the rest of the crew?’

As you continued to think about everything you looked up at his face without even realizing you were

‘What was there to hate about him anyway? Sure he was quiet and cold but what if you got him to break out of his shell a bit? Maybe you could see how he was behind his cold yellow eyes… and his fluffy black hair… his hair did look soft. I wonder what it would feel like to run your hand through it. Would he enjoy it? would he hate it? maybe relax into your touch? maybe lead to something slightly less innocent?’

As you were lost in your thoughts you didn't realize that your captain had called your name and you surely didn't realize it when he moved closer to you until he placed a hand on your shoulder. You quickly snapped out of your trance and looked to see that your captain was right in front of you, looking into your eyes. You couldn't help but become flustered by his closeness.

“You alright?” He asked in a voice that sounded monotone as usual but you could hear the genuine sincerity and concern behind it.

Without thinking you shrug his hand off your shoulder to try and keep up your tough act even though a part of you broke when you feel his hand leave. You mentally curse yourself for that.

“I'm fine” you say quietly, turning your head away from him so he doesn't see the blush on your face

You felt him move to sit next to you. Nothing was said between the two of you for what felt like hours before you decided to move closer to him, closing the space between the two of you. with your head being turned away from him still you missed the confused look he gave you. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a dull knife.

“You know you can talk to me right?” Law said, finally breaking the awkward silence. You finally turned back to look at him. “Contrary to what you think, I care about you like the rest of my cr-”

He was cut off abruptly by the feeling of your lips on his. As soon as your lips met you quickly realized what you were doing and moved away from him quickly. You put your face in your hands, mumbling apologies. Law just rolled his eyes and kissed the top of your head. He grabbed one of your hands away from your face and interlaced it with his.

“About time you did something, Bepo was going insane” he said quietly to you. You chuckled a bit at the thought of Bepo pulling his fur out over the two of you. “It may take time but we will work on us together”

With that you laid your head on his shoulder, finally embracing him like you wanted to for so long. The two of you close your eyes and take in each other's presence without noticing the presence of a certain polar bear who is trying to keep quiet to not ruin the peace between you two. You can finally rest peacefully.

[theecosystemdid]

Something we have tried to do for a while is have clothing that makes alters comfortable to wear.

For the record, I’m goth and punk. As the host, and the fact that our switches unless stressed May be several days or even weeks apart, majority of our closet is filled with what I would wear. While we have several alters who fit a similar style and don’t mind, we also have a lot of alters who are far from it and want to dress more them.

Anyways. We have an alters who’s maybe only fronted 3-4 times the entire time that she’s existed, which has been a good amount of time now. We never got around to getting her anything to wear because our system gatekeeper and the system protectors tried not to let her front due to stability.

Recently however she did front. Ended up hating the fact she didn’t have the jacket that she wears in the headspace so damn much that she opened several online shops on our phone that sold the jacket.

Well! Today I found the jacket at a thrift store, so problem solved, even for how little she fronts.

There’s nothing wrong with fitting your closet with outfits that would make your alters more comfortable. You don’t have to go crazy and give them each an entire wardrobe. Honestly we have maybe one or two tops that each alter would wear to make them more comfortable while they do front, and they usually aren’t fronting long enough to have to worry about needing to change into something else that fits their style. You don’t even have to go buy something brand new! You can find some incredible things for pretty cheap at thrift stores. -🦇

[prodbionic]

Destiny vs. design (two faces of a coin)

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: caught in an explosion

Fandom: Supernatural

Word Count: 18.9 k

Summary:

Dean had been acting off. A recent bout of nightmares had overrun his sleep –Sam's sleep as well because that was bound to happen when one's brother woke up shouting from the bed next to his. Sam reckoned they were memories of Hell, triggered by the apocalypse creeping up on them. A regular hunt was Sam's fix to the situation, as it had usually proved a sure way to take Dean's mind off of more awful stuff. Of course, when had anything ever been that straightforward, or easy? In this case, nothing was what it looked like.

Read full on ao3

Snippet from chapter one:

To describe it as simply as "he woke up" would be a stretch when he merely got some of his senses partially, sluggishly awakened while others were deep underwater. Hungover , his mind helpfully deduced. Bar fight , screamed the way his body ached and his leg muscles throbbed... monster fight would also track. A successful monster fight? Now that was debatable. Sam was such a dick, Dean thought , for removing Dean's blanket when he was clearly cold and shivering. Did the punk want to wake and sober him up? Tough. He would sleep like the dead , even like this. He was damned tired, and he deserved his rest. And anyway, he had slept in worse conditions. Way worse. Although, his foggy mind failed to recall any such instance with any degree of clarity. Time passed, as time usually would in such a state of drunken haze, incongruent and corrupt, among halted dreams, broken recollections, and failed attempts at actually waking up. He had no idea how much of it had passed between his initial 'waking up' and his internal alarms blaring. It was when a warm trickle in his right ear slid outwards, followed by a low hiss in his eardrum, followed by faint warbled sounds like wind wheezing through a gap in a window frame–filtered through to him that it clicked: something was wrong. Eyes bleary, arm heavy, he moved to rub his ear until the hissing stopped and all the wetness had been smeared away. The surface underneath him was not that of a shitty motel's lumpy mattress—which in itself sounded heavenly compared to the rotting wood he was actually lying on. The darkness of the room or wherever he was, had some thin streaks of light enough to let him know it was shoddy. If his sinuses weren't so congested, he'd bet the cloying smell of mold would be up his nostrils. Shifting from his stomach sideways aggravated all of the sores he'd known about, and a lot he hadn't had a clue about. A throb in his thigh intensified to agony, it was all he could do not to gasp. Not an entirely successful monster fight. Memory didn't readily serve to erase the bewilderment of his situation, although upon some gentle prodding his mind supplied flashes of a gut ripping fall, and a whiplash into running water. Walking through the woods. Bickering. Looking at gooey remains. Running through the woods. Boring breakfast. Awful nightmare. Bullets. Pain in his abdomen. A Grenade launcher… All of it broken pieces of glass, hanging weightless, shining against a vast, blankness of context. They felt distant, like they happened to someone else. Except for the last one: his brother's face, calling Dean's name in panic, his face and hair dripping wet, inches above his own. That was recent, Dean was sure, and probably the last time he saw Sam. Further inspection of the room around him through his blurry vision assured him of being alone. Where exactly did Sam stash him? Couldn't the punk find a better spot? More importantly, what the hell happened? The stickiness on his face, when he followed it to its source and felt the god-awful gash in his head, was enough for him to connect the dots as to why his memory was botched. The dizziness was not helping.  Dean grunted, sitting up. In an instant, his vision swam and his head severely swirled inside his skull. He felt himself falling back the short distance he'd gained off the floor, but couldn't help it at all as he smacked the ground back. His poor battered head. He was going to kill Sam for leaving him like this , he thought, breathing the musty air wafting from the blood-wet floor.

[ponds-of-ink]

Short Springtrap And OC Drabble: “A Pack of Springs”

Blame one particular thing I read from @spaciebabie and it invigorating the writing part of my mind. Again.

At least there’s no explosions this time.

(There may be a part two if anyone wants?)

-

Springtrap stood nearby the office window. It was only a couple of minutes before the guard clocked in for the night. His undead heart was pounding, but not for the usual reasons.

You see, this guard was the coolest kid on the block.. At least, in his mind. Streaks of color against some naturally-hued hair. A work outfit fully customized with patches and other interesting details. All wrapped up with the most “chill” attitude he had ever witnessed. If one had to sum up this soul for him, it would be the punk look of the 1980s somehow paired with this… Scene?… 2000s Gothic?… aesthetic. And it captivated him.

Maybe a bit too much, if he was being honest. What with all the catalog cutouts scattered around his room.. And the hours he spent trying to figure out how to even start dressing properly again..

But, hey, at least the feeling was (mostly) mutual. The guard dug him and he dug back. The cat and mouse stuff was merely a running gag at this point.

Unfortunately, it was a performance that they weren’t going to put on tonight. Springtrap had something more… interesting in mind. A little idea he wanted to test the waters on. And, to pull this off, he had to ask the one fashion expert in this building a very simple question.

The office clock rang. Springtrap jolted out of his self-reflecting. He put himself into his usual “threatening” posture and waited. It was only a matter of time now— And he honestly couldn’t wait.

The guard, meanwhile, clocked in at the lobby. It was a cold and cloudy midnight, which made things extra spooky. “Heh, this is my kinda night,” the unknowing figure thought as a grin crept in. “Hope Spring’s ready to see me beat him for the third time in a row.”

Combat boots thumped down the long hallway. Springtrap’s arms shook in spite of himself. It was just a simple question. He had no need to panic.

Thankfully for him, the guard noticed very quickly. “Oh, hey, Spring,” came the casual response after the initial jump of shock. “Didn’t think you’d be here.”

Springtrap placed an arm against the wall. Oh, he was just hanging around. Nothing wrong here.

The guard gave a very brief scan up and down. Aside from the nervous “grin” and a magazine in one of his hands, there wasn’t anything really wrong with him. “Well, I’ll let you get to reading,” the guard concluded, swerving into the main office. “Just come in if you need anything.”

Springtrap signaled “Will do”. The instinct to internally kick himself was strong, but this mishap did provide him an opportunity. He skimmed through the magazine again. Just one more refresher to get his mind back on track.

The guard, meanwhile, just went about the usual routine. Boot up the security system, check the cameras, and double-check Springtrap on occasion. Simple as that.

Minutes went by for both of them. Spring still read through his catalog while the guard kept the peace. Tension started to swirl, though the guard wasn’t sure why. He was just reading a book! There’s nothing stressful about looking at some fashion stuff while on “break”!

Heavy footsteps soon lumbered into the main office. A light, papery thump hit the top of the guard’s desk. The guard peered beside the monitor. “What’s up, Spring?” the guard asked, sliding over a notebook and pen. “You seem kinda antsy tonight. You good?”

Springtrap instinctively took up the notebook and pen. His handwriting was even shakier than usual, but he let the guard see it anyway. “I was thinking about trying something new,” he jotted down. “Something I think you would like, Axel.”

Axel raised an eyebrow. “Something you think I would like?” she asked, placing her elbow on the table as she leaned forward. “What’s even better than playing hide and seek with you?”

Springtrap’s good ear raised. A human-like gleam entered into his eyes. He lifted the notebook from the desk and carefully slid the catalog forward. A few scribbles later, he gestured to one sentence at the bottom of his notes: “Look in there.”

Not knowing what else to do, Axel followed his instructions. She first looked at the table of contents, which already had a few pages underlined. Tops, Overcoats, Accessories.. All basic stuff.

Well, if you want to call any of the stuff from a premiere “gothic” fashion line ‘basic’.

Regardless, Axel read through each marker-circled item. Mentally taking in any scribbled-down notes that Spring may have left. A cool patterned shirt here, a funky two-tone vest here, a crop top… Several places, actually. Even with page references on what to pair each one with. Come to think of it, all of the selections had some sort of cross-reference with something else. “He really put some thought into this,” Axel thought, a smile growing the more she flipped back and forth. “He’s even trying make outfits!”

But even with this sense of pride, that sense of tension gnawed at her core. It didn’t help that all the undershirt sizes he circled didn’t match his size. “Unless he’s thinking about me getting these, I don’t think these’ll work,” she said in her head, biting the corner of her lip. “Which is a bummer, ‘cause I really like these! They’d look so good on him!”

After a couple more minutes of digging through the rabbit’s “wishlist”, Axel set down the magazine. “Pretty good picks, Spring,” she said casually, leaning back in her seat. “But I gotta ask: Why’d ya make the undershirts so small? I mean, the bigger crop-tops could look good on top of ‘em, but… Wouldn’t the undershirt be too tight?”

Springtrap halted his multi-page outline. He flipped to an empty page and started writing again. After a few seconds, he showed her the answer: “Not if you’re planning on ‘slimming down’.”

Axel tilted her head. “‘Slimming down’?” she repeated, her posture shifting to a more serious position. “Ya mean, like, getting a new torso piece?”

Springtrap nodded, then eagerly jotted down something else. He spun the notebook around with a proud grin. “Yes!” it read, alongside a semicolon and a capital D. “As a matter of fact, I’m in talks with a technician about getting a different build altogether. It may make me look broader in the shoulders, but I believe the ‘six-pack’ will be worth it.”

All of Axel’s dread overloaded into outright fear. Her heavy shudder nearly made her convulse. Nausea overrode her entire body. The mental image of this zombie rabbit having the buffest body in the crew just… Didn’t sit right. It felt wrong, even if he was just a weird robot guy.

Thankfully, she did manage to sputter out something. “Y-You’re joking, right?” she questioned, using the desk to steady her nerves. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Springtrap’s good ear drooped. He hastily wrote his response. “I’m not,” he answered. “But I did need to run all of this by you first. Mainly for fashion concerns.”

The words provided a little comfort to the rattled guard. Okay, good. Maybe he could be reasoned with. “Your outfits are fine, my man,” she stammered out, steadying her breathing. “Don’t sweat it there. My main deal is this ‘s-six pack’ thing. Just… why?? Who put the idea into your head that you couldn’t pull off these looks now?”

It was Springtrap’s turn to tilt his head. “Nobody suggested it to me,” he ‘replied’, underlining the word multiple times for emphasis. “I just thought that my current shape couldn’t ’pull off’ some of these, that’s all.”

Axel grit her teeth. “So you took one look at these guys by yourself and said ‘yeah that’s what my body needs to look like’?” she asked, her face burning bright red. “Is that what I’m getting at here?”

A simple “Yes” was all Springtrap wrote.

The poor woman slammed her head on the desk. She stifled the urge to scream in rage. “Springs, my guy,” she said after a minute of silence, raising her head. “I know you’re a robot.. zombie… bunny, but listen ta me: You already look cool enough. You already are cool enough. Just keep scaring me like you usually do and you’ll be fine.”

Springtrap placed a hand to his waist. He glanced at it before writing with his other hand. “I appreciate your compliments,” he ‘added’. “But ‘hear’ me out: Can you actually picture someone with my ‘chubby’ build wearing things like what I’ve shown you?” He then stood up straighter, making sure he somehow didn’t make himself look “thinner”.

Axel, try as she might, now pictured Springtrap in one of those outfit combos. And, to be quite honest, it made her face burn for an entirely different reason than before. “I mean, I can see you in ‘em clear as day,” she laughed sheepishly, covering her eyes (as if that would help). “Hey, maybe you’d win that bunny wife of yours back if…” Her voice broke into a sincere giggling fit, making her unable to finish her sentence.

A quiet, hoarse chuckle emitted from Springtrap’s voice-box. “While I do still have my apprehensions,” he ‘continued’ after a pause, “I suppose I’ll hold off. Don’t wait to make you nauseous every time I show up behind that window, after all.”

“Thanks, my guy,” Axel responded, her voice weakening with relief. “Just, uh, let me know if you do have any problems trying to fit stuff. I know a guy who works on mascot costumes for fun, so he knows how to make outfits for animatronics.”

“I will keep your friend in mind,” Springtrap ‘answered’, his handwriting now more loose and stable. “Thank you for all of your advice.”

“No problem,” Axel grinned as she returned to leaning back in her chair. “Glad I got the chance to say something before somebody tore out that torso piece. It’d be an absolute bummer if the world lost you rocking that ‘bod.”

Springtrap put down the pen. Another hoarse chuckle emitted from his throat. Given how confident Axel sounded, maybe it would be a shame.

But, as the term “rocking” invited an opportunity for fooling around, he rose up to full standing height.. Then placed his hands on his sides. He assumed his saddest ‘pout’ and swung his hips a little. Almost as if he was saying: “But my body doesn’t just rock. It has rolls too.”

Axel laughed in spite of herself. “Okay, now you’re just messing with me,” she smiled, feeling her face flush a little. “Go do your ‘sad’ dance moves somewhere else, ya big lug. We’ll pick this topic up some other time.”

Springtrap slumped his shoulders dramatically. He rolled his eyes as he picked up his catalog. With a final wave, he vanished behind the doorway… Before “sprinting” back down the hallway with the dumbest smile. That last pun may not have been his best work, but Axel’s suggestion may have just given him an idea for tonight’s game. If she wants to be that determined to prove her claims about him, he’ll have to work to dispute it. And that tip about dancing may have just given him an edge in that debate..

[ninjapotatohead]

I'm just going to get this out of the way...

All you ever do is ignore the obvious and just flat out insult people who were never in the wrong with a dumb meme. (I mean, memes are funny, but not your's)

People have different opinions on comics and the games and that's okay. You can't just be a hardass to Sonic fans who like media or characters you don't like.

Like, I follow people who don't like Sonamy but do I bash on them because of that? Uhhh, no. I don't. Because I respect other people's different opinions, despite the fact it's not like mine.

You, however, do not. And that is sad.

Also?? I am convinced you are homophobic, because I just noticed you didn't bring up the fact Tangle and Whisper are a thing now. Knowing you, I should've known that that was the case.

Sorry for being honest, I guess, but you're probably the most butthurt person in this hellsite. I didn't make my blog just to see your dumb posts about you criticising fans and people who work at SEGA who are doing their job.

If your life is based on constantly ignoring valid points or looking at the negative side of things in the fandom or being snarky and rude to people who just simply disagree with you, there's a good reason why a lot of people block you.

I hate to disappoint you, but unfortunately, you're an asshole.

I tried so hard not to get in your way, but your posts have been bothering me every time I look up Sonic's name because I want to see funny posts, cool fanart and all that awesome jazz.

You are just one of those people who drains out all the fun and makes fun of the fandom for simply ENJOYING stuff that you don't.

I want you to understand that. I'm not here to attack, I'm just telling you how you make me feel.

You're the living embodiment of the No Fun Allowed panel from the Archie comics, and I don't think that you'll change for the better anytime soon.

Also, don't even think about responding with a meme or your usual: "I have no idea what the hell your talking about, therefore I'm right. Checkmate."

Cause that just proves you don't care.

I know you're reading this, but choose to think I'm wrong. I know, but I'm posting this to you anyways because maybe someday, you'll reconsider how you act towards certain people.

Or maybe you won't, and I'm certain at the second option.

Really sorry, but you're just not a good person.

Either leave the fandom or grow up, which ever comes last.

Credit where it's due, you're not being a punk-ass and going Anonymous. That said, your claims are full of more holes than a fine Swiss cheese.

• "All you do is ignore the obvious and insult people who were never in the wrong..."

You're making shit up. Have you SEEN the sorts of things I get in my inbox? Oh wait, of course you (supposedly) haven't. That would require admitting that the other side of a coin exists, and that these people you claim are "innocent"... simply aren't. The only ones "ignoring the obvious" are the jackasses who make shit up about the games they never played.

• "Memes are funny, but not your's"

There's no apostrophe in "yours". Next!

• "People have different opinions on the games and comics, and that's okay."

No shit, Sherlock. You say that, yet, whenever someone (ie folks like myself, @darklightheart, @crusherthedoctor, or @aquillis-main) lists any and all grievances or problems said comic has from our perspective (with reason), the fandom takes a defensive stance almost immediately and swarms our inboxes with their own brand of unsavory behavior... but said fans are "innocent" according to you, right?

• "Also, I'm convinced you're homophobic because I just noticed you didn't bring up the fact that Tangle & Whisper are a thing now."

Did you break your back and pull every single muscle in your body or something, because that's a goddamn massive leap of logic you just made based on literally nothing.

• "...you're probably the most butthurt person on this hellsite."

• "I didn't make my blog just to see you criticizing fans and people at SEGA who are doing their jobs."

No, you made your blog to cry your way into people's inboxes about people not doing it enough.

• "If your life is based on constantly ignoring valid points and looking at the negative side of things in the fandom..."

Like those so-called "innocent fans" who blow up the inboxes of multiple users on this site to do that very thing? Yeah, no. Try harder.

• "...your posts have been bothering me every time I look up Sonic's name..."

Translation:

• "I'm not here to attack..."

Could've fooled me.

• "...I'm posting this to you because maybe someday, you'll reconsider how you act towards certain people."

So, what you're saying is the next time soy boy stans like you bombard the inboxes of myself and other users for the express purpose of trying to silence other people's opinions, we're supposed to just acquiesce? Yeah no, you're living in a bubble.

• "Really sorry, but you're just not a good person."

[bronanlynch]

this one has a muffin recipe which hopefully makes up for the extended discussion on gender in a disappointing YA novel. anyway. happy wednesday

listening (podcast): keeping up with Palisade, where the table friends are as usual entirely on their bullshit. love a story that asks the real questions like, what if you follow some guy into a public bathroom and then it turns out he's in charge of the fucked up evil intelligence organization that used to kind of be in charge of the entire planet.

I'm also going back and listening to the Great Gundam Project episodes on original Gundam, which they did at the very beginning since they're going in chronological order and it is so funny to go from later episodes where I'm like "wow these people are so smart and know so much more about Gundam than I do" to "wow these people are so smart and are doing some incredibly insightful analysis considering they don't know shit about Gundam"

also this was a Media Club Plus week. Jack made lots of fun observations about Killua and his relationship to violence and also Gon that will be very interesting to revisit in like a hundred episodes. god I love dramatic irony

listening (music): for once in my life I'm listening to new music, from a self-described "flaming queer power pop" band from New Jersey called Teenage Halloween (I would say they're more punk than that description implies to me, the lead vocals especially are very classic punk, by which I mean rough and hoarse and shouty in a good way). here's their bandcamp, I think my favorite tracks are Takeaway and Getting Bitter, but they're a fun band and they have a sound that I enjoy. and also for normal reasons I like when people sing about New Jersey and/or living in a shitty suburban town

reading: finally finished Leigh Bardugo's Rule of Wolves (last book in the Grishaverse series). some wild tonal dissonance at the end because it's supposed to be a hopeful ending where the future is going to be better and maybe Ravka as a country can change and be better, except the main characters spent the past two books inventing industrialized warfare and that is not something that can just be undone?? they have missiles now??? sorry but once you introduce missiles to your fantasy setting I no longer believe that the future will be kinder & less violent than the past. also, the gender. it's time to talk about gender again. Nina's love interest Hanne, who has repeatedly been uncomfortable presenting as feminine, kills a guy who sucks and steals his identity, and talks about feeling more like themself because now they're not seen as a woman. this is the part that I like, it's fun and interesting and I think it's cool when trans people do regicide (the guy was a prince). the parts I feel conflicted are the way Nina reacts with such disappointment that Hanne no longer looks how they used to (though she does come around to the idea), the fact that all of this comes from Nina's perspective (when Nina has spent the entire duology waxing poetic about what a beautiful woman Hanne is, when Hanne is explicitly uncomfortable with being seen as beautiful or a woman) with nothing from Hanne's point of view, the fact that this reveal happens at the very end leaving no space to see how this changes their relationship moving forward or to see Hanne exploring what their transition means to them, and the way it ties to something Bardugo said, back between the Six of Crows duology and this one, where she said that the next time she wrote Nina, her love interest would be a woman. and don't get me wrong, I love that Nina's bisexuality is very present on the page. however. Idk. that doesn't seem accurate and it feels clumsily handled like. sorry that's a transmasc butch who deserves a girlfriend who isn't constantly thinking about how pretty they were when they were forced to have long hair

however, in books that I'm enjoying much more, I'm reading The Death I Gave Him by Em X. Liu, a near-future sci-fi Hamlet retelling about trying to create a scientific cure for death in which Horatio is the AI of the unethical science lab and also (I think, based on what I've read so far) in love with the Hamlet figure. it fucking rules. I'm a known fan of Hamlet & Hamlet retellings, and also when the setting is alive & sentient & loves you, and also relationships between people and like, non-humanoid intelligences (it's kind of like the reverse of a possession romance, instead of the god/robot/etc inhabiting the human the human is the one doing the possession). also, I think the sense of paranoia & claustrophobia from the original Hamlet is done really well here, in a way that works well thematically and also feels. Idk. I'm trying to figure out a way to say this without psychoanalyzing myself on main but it's a very compassionate depiction of the Hamlet figure's mental state that's just. nice to read. anyway. structurally I love that it's framed as though it's someone's thesis about an incident that they've researched, so there are bits that are excerpts from phone logs and trial transcripts and things like that. I'm partway through but it's extremely good so far

watching: continuing to keep up with the TGCF donghua (for once I've seen the newest ep before posting this), which continues to be a good fun time, even if the cr*nchyroll subtitles are pretty awful (both in terms of typos and also the way they sub gege as Lian). but I do like this arc! it's fun! Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are in love!

watched a few more episodes of Hunter x Hunter to keep up with MC+ and I've gotta say, I enjoy Hisoka as a character a lot more than I did the first time I watched this. I am not immune to when a fucked up guy with a cool design murders people with playing cards. however, even though Kurapika didn't do much in the assassin/battle royale bit of the Hunter Exam, Kurapika is still my favorite

moving on to the normal amount of Gundam we watched, we finished Zeta! god. Zeta my fucking beloved. I think the ending pays off a lot of the stuff about Newtypes as a stand-in for human connection, by which I mean it fucking rules that the Zeta Gundam has ghosts in it and that Kamille can defeat Scirocco, who does not form equal partnerships with anyone or listen to their advice, by listening to the advice of his (dead) friends who live in his brain & his robot. also like, I still don't like Reccoa's plotline overall but her confrontations with Kamille & Char do a lot of good characterization work for both of them (Kamille refusing to believe that she's not just really deep undercover! Char uninterested in hearing her reasoning and attacking immediately but still unable to kill her and surprised by that!) and also I love her final fight with Emma. her and Emma killing each other is yuri, to me. on a design note, I think I tend to prefer the mobile suits in 0079, because under no circumstances do you have to hand it to the Principality of Zeon but they knew how to make a grunt suit with some fun shapes in a way that the Federation/Titans simply do not apparently. however! shout out to the Qubeley. what a neat-looking robot

and of course, immediately after finishing Zeta we started ZZ so. that also is a thing I watched. the tone whiplash from the ending of Zeta with a bunch of people dying and a kind of bittersweet victory to the beginning of ZZ was wild. Judau is so much more of a plucky YA protagonist, and there's so much more of a tone of, these kids are going to do some wacky shenanigans. like, Yazan goes from horrifying to a comedic figure. which is not to say it's bad! I am enjoying it! but sometimes it kind of feels like an entirely different creative team (which I know it's not, I know this is still very much still Tomino. but there's such a major vibeshift). my favorite thing about ZZ so far is all of the class stuff, it's nice to have that as a lens to view this setting (an extremely predictable thing for me, guy who loves stories about class conflict, to say). but I like having protagonists who are concerned about their own economic stability (though it does raise questions of like, is Bright getting paid?? by whom??? is he getting paychecks from the Federation still/again?? who is paying for Kamille's hospital bills??? Tomino please show me the Argama's budget spreadsheets). my other favorite thing is that Bright is still here, even though he is very tired and deserves a vacation. he has Such big single parent energy now, good luck to him. my other other favorite thing is that Roux Louka exists, she's a lot of fun so far

playing: still working my way through Ace Attorney 5. Aura is back and I love her! also I'm becoming invested in the concept of Clay/Apollo, partially because I am not immune to Apollo wearing Clay's jacket and partially because I love when you go to Aura's lab and Apollo is there talking to her, and he immediately realizes that Aura and Metis were in love even though Aura denies it, and her loss of Metis is paralleled with Apollo's loss of Clay. there's something compelling to me there as a story about queer grief, and mourning someone's loss even when you can't talk about exactly what they meant to you

making: we've made a couple of recipes from the Skyrim cookbook (cheese fondue, glazed carrots) (not at the same time to be clear. those were different meals) and they both turned out pretty tasty. however, the most exciting thing we made was the muffins from this post. they are, in fact, extremely good. we doubled the recipe because what would we do with an extra half a can of pumpkin

drinking: one of Lamplighter's pride beers from this summer was a sour ale with butterfly pea flower & lemon, and I'm trying to drink through the summer beers in our fridge to make room for all of the autumnal ciders. this one's tasty! again, love it when beers are citrusy & floral

writing: still working on a zine fic that I can't share yet, and also the extremely Palisade spoiler-y Integrity fic from a few weeks ago (to be fair I haven't gotten to the spoiler-y parts yet, instead I'm continuing to be possibly the only person in the fandom who cares about Orbit Shard). also, predictably, I've started writing Gundam fic. predictably, it's Emma/Reccoa and instead of getting to the kissing part Emma is introspecting about ideology

[thearoaceshark]

JJBA AU: Jojo's Spider Adventures. prt 3.

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Johnny Joestar, youngest son of Charles and Isabell Joestar. His older brother died in a horse riding accident at the age of 17, when Johnny was 11. His brother was a great horseman, just like his father wanted, but when he died his expectations were dashed, Johnny trained and became a great horseman, but his father did not recognize him as Nicolas, in fact he disowned him and kept repeating that "he had lost the wrong son".

Johnny knew a secret about his brother, that he would take to his grave, Nicolas liked horses, but he didn't like the way his parents made him dress, Johnny asked him how he would like to dress and showed him some pictures of people dressed in jackets and spikes, and some were made up, told him that this was the punk style, and that he would like to dress like that. The younger could see why, there was something in that style that was attractive to him.

When at the age of 22 he lost mobility in his legs due to a shot, his world fell apart, lower than he already was. His parents ended up throwing him out of his life, he was not allowed to even try to ride a horse again, he went from being the great rich rider to the poor paralyzed middle class. It was then that he remembered the style of dress that his brother wanted.

He sold most of the trophies he won as a jockey, and with that money he filled his wardrobe with punk clothes and bought makeup too, he began to dress with it, he went out on the streets like that, he liked it, in some way it helped him express himself.

He had been like this for three years, had achieved economic stability and was beginning to go to therapy to try to recover his walking, he was being treated by an Italian doctor whom he was becoming friends with, he had a somewhat hippie style, but he liked him, and his help was working little by little.

Everything was going well, his doctor-friend-person with whom he flirts from time to time told him that he should go to therapy for his Daddy Issues, to which he told him that he also had Daddy Issues, he didn't know much about his past but the man had fallen for his father several times, this river.

◆☆◆

It was a random day when he felt a bite on his neck, he didn't care, thinking it was a mosquito, but hours later he lay dizzy in his bed.

☆

The next morning he woke up... With more hair than usual, and these were more platinum than usual... Nah, surely he was seeing badly-- wait... he could see them exactly...

He opened his window and took a look, God, the world was never so bright. Johnny could perfectly see the man who was in front of the flower shop 19 m away as if he were facing him.

When he closed the window he got stuck there for a while, for some reason his hand got stuck there. When he went to the bathroom to see himself, he found that the roots of his hair were turning more platinum, but not quite white, more like an albino blonde. And when he took off his shirt and saw his abdomen, he found a strange peacock pattern framed there, when he touched it, he noticed that it was made of hair. Ugh, yuck, he wasn't a fan of body hair at all.

It took him approximately 1 hour and 30 minutes to shave completely, using an electric razor. And it took him about 15 minutes to get the razor off HIS FUCKING HAND BECAUSE IT HAD ALSO GLUED THE DAMN!!

This day he couldn't get any worse, luckily he had nothing to do... THAT'S NOT TRUE, HE HAD AN *INFORMAL* DATE WITH GYRO! AAAAAHHH!!

He dressed and bathed quickly and arrived at the meeting point, a restaurant, Gyro, his doctor, had invited him for lunch. Luckily he had started to get up early, that allowed him to arrive on time despite the inconveniences. Although once he was there he wondered if it had been a good idea to go out on a date with his... Condition of him. But anyway, he was already there, and Gyro too.

◆☆◆

The date passed normally, and it was wonderful, Johnny had to hide certain things that suddenly stuck to his hands and take them off without Gyro noticing, but he was fine, everything was going great... Until in the middle of their kiss His hand got stuck in Gyro's hair...

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They had to go home together and shave where his hand had gotten stuck, they ended up shaving some more to make it look good.

Gyro started the topic after a brief silence, saying that now that he saw it better the roots in his hair were starting to look whiter, and Johnny told him how he woke up. Gyro asked him if he could throw cobwebs to which he glared at him for joking, but they ended up experimenting and discovered that no, he didn't have cobwebs.

Johnny was very worried, but Gyro told him that he would be with him, and that they would find a solution, the Spiders had done it, they would too. It was when Gyro mentioned the Spiders that he remembered his cousin Jonathan Joestar, who if he remembered correctly was a friend of Robert EO Speedwagon, who was CEO of the Speedwagon Foundation, a Foundation that was associated with the Spiders.

He told Gyro and the next day he was calling his cousin to give him an appointment with Speedwagon, his cousin promised to see if he could find something for him and about three days later told him that they had made an appointment with him. If Jonathan had known what he wanted, his cousin would have gone to see it himself.

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Two weeks and 5 days later, the day to meet Speedwagon finally came, he had been practicing what he could with Gyro so that at least he wouldn't stick to random things unconsciously, they discovered that he had more strength, better eyesight, and that his hair grew enormously every three days, his hair was already completely platinum, and most importantly, he could make himself invisible, to him, to his clothes and to any small object he was touching.

Speedwagon was surprised and called the closest Spiders, Spider-Sun and Star-Spider, oh, and apparently a new member dressed in pink. They voices were familiar to him.

Speedwagon said that it seems there were more radioactive spiders than they thought, and that the blonde had been bitten by one.

That apparently surprised Sun-Spider a lot, who unexpectedly took off his mask revealing that it was his cousin Jonathan's. That would not be the only surprise because the one in pink would also remove his mask, revealing Hot Pants, his cousin.

When Johnny yelled cousin and cousin two times, the room got more confused, it seems that Jonathan and Hot Pants didn't know they were cousins, oh well. The room was almost filled with screams, but Speedwagon ordered them to calm down. Star-Spider let out something that sounded like "Yare yare daze" before removing his mask, below he saw a Japanese man with some English features, surely a half-breed like his cousins ​​Jonathan and Joseph, he introduced himself as Jotaro Kujo, cousin of Jonathan, Johnny remembered hearing about him but never met him because he lived in Japan.

They asked him what he wanted to do with his powers, the truth was he never thought about it, he asked them if there was a way to reverse them but they answered no for now.

"What would he do with his powers?" that was an interesting question. They offered him to join the arachnid society, he could be an active Spider like them, or he could help in other ways, like George, Jonathan's son, or Josefumi, Joseph's brother-in-law, who had powers but used them to help in other ways less dangerous. Or, he could also simply continue living as before, but now with powers, they offered to give him free training and monitoring so that he could continue with his life normally.

He said that he would think about it.

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Johnny talk to Gyro, he don't reveal the identities of the Spiders he knew, but he had to tell him what they told him, after all, now they were partners in this. Gyro told him that he would make the decision that he wanted, and he would see how he could help him.

▪︎◆☆◆▪︎

It took him and the Speedwagon Foundation a month to finish the spider-wheelchair he requested, but when he was done it was excellent, and the world was introduced to Spider-Act.

End of Narrative.

Read the tags please

[boct-kimerakal]

your name is literally hawkes talon

what the hell. bird.

this (and like 8 other lore dumps) has been sitting in my drafts for so long... just throw it out there with the tag so i can keep track.

i think a lot about the waiting world (original lore world! no way!) but i just never talk about it anywhere. EXCEPT when i try to spew it into my notes.. now the problem with notes, is that it just feels so tedious to type things out there? it’s much smoother on this platform, who knows why (the font and formatting soothe me..)

anyways, i’m here to talk about the background / basics anji-ola punk rockstar serving major aggro daily. need to write the scattered notes (vague ideas..) somewhere because the toyhouse profile is so horrendously long already

okay, expect a lot of REALLY bad world-building in a ‘notes for later’ style. really simple & kinda lame rn.

background first? hawkes is kondhani which is one of the? sixty-three... ethnic groups in anji-ola i intend to develop. thinking about it so hard. it’s one of ethnicities with the most diaspora communities, so you tend to get [insert location name here]-kondhan when askin’ - hawkes specifically would be denovo-kondhan.. hmmm. kondhani was up until recently a nomadic culture and in the wake of the mandated settlement no real kondhani “homeland” (like, a heartland or significantly large-enough settlement by government standards?) emerged? unlike, eg, the dysikkin majority being located surrounding dangsahana and the people being associated with the denovijihari region.

hm. both groups are similar in that they were never associated with a particular nation / organised behind any form of leadership, they emerged as socio-cultural entity after the breakdown of the kodyssi thalassocracy and the people diffused across the rest of the landmass (which i HAVE NOT named) <- i say this not knowing a THING about how these categorisation systems work, it’s just a best guess? do correct me if i’m horribly wrong with my word choices.. ehrm! that out of the way!

ALSO. punk rockstar is an approximation. there really isn’t a punk culture + musical genre in anji-ola - nor do rockstars even exist, because rock music is a culture thing. believe it or not. there is nothing in anji-ola that could act as prelude to this culture. (something, something? the ubiquity of rock music in this era due to the present western culture hegemony? dunno.. but the term’s a good way to set an Expectation for hawkes and her music) that said. pondering my orb. electrical technology is a thing and has been applied to music relatively similarly? HRRM.

time to answer the ‘why can she beat you up?’ question. (sigh.. my main issue with worldbuilding is! ugh! describing the hard-to-articulate parts. i need visual elements, sigh... but like, come on man.. i have to DRAW it? myself?) anyways, hawkes has perfected a form of kondhani dance that imitates physical fighting! but pretty. problem is i haven’t named it yet or really messed with the overall tradition behind it. and in my mind there’s a specific look to it, an aesthetic uniqueness. i’ll have to hammer out the logistics of it all..

the art form is considered more in the realm of dance than martial arts though! but i figure there isn’t as big a distinction in the context of anji-ola.. they’re codified more as physical training traditions? but ugh, i haven’t done my research so take these as notes for my future self (hopefully, a future self that actually DID THE WORK)

lastly. the reason hawkes wears red so aggressively is it’s a celebration colour in kondhani culture and usually worn to funerals & weddings in kondhani tradition (but there are no taboos on dressing casually in red!) by the close ones of the deceased / newly weds respectively. ehrrrm hm. yea.

character stuff next time. probably rant it up with trick too.

[jakeperalta]

Ya..I had heard that about Castles Crumbling before but like you said..I guess we don't know if it's true but I always got that vibe cuz Castles Crumbling would be like happening slowly or like that vision of love she used to have..like the fairy tales and happy endings and not what she always thought or imagined. which is why I connected it to Love Story I guess cuz the castle.. or even similar to like Cardigan maybe? But I've also written a song of my own similar to that idea too so maybe that's why. It also kinda reminds me of the same idea in Beach Read that I'm reading right now. Also it reminds me of Cinderella which is from the Bejeweled video. So I would still be excited for that even if Hayley didn't feature. Also I just read your post about the collabs..lol but I hope you still like them. I guess we don't know for sure if it will have a pop punk vibe..cuz I think it might even be like Nothing New. Electric touch makes me think of a song like Sparks Fly maybe..but idk why but I'm really curious if it could be a regular duet too. Ya I think it might be an actual possibility just cuz using her name seems so specific to me..but it's also not like she never had fictional songs before. Someone said it could be like Mary's song and I would love that.. or maybe that one could be fairytaleish...like if it was really Ella instead! Then you would have your name in a Taylor Swift song! I'm sorry..you were soo close! Lol it really is just an interesting title anyway. I never like to think too much about what songs are about..cuz I did that with Folklore and I am usually wrong. I didn't really do it with Midnights either..like I try not to force it but I guess sometimes it's easier with some titles than others. Cuz the rest I wasn't sure about..and that's so true about genres as well. I am usually pretty good at picking which ones might be favorites though based on the title..with Midnights it was maybe half and half but I remember picking Forever Winter from Red and that's one of my favorites. We'll see if I go in order or not..but my sister might get tired so idk..and yay for Mine being first and your favorite. I'm excited for my favorites too.. and just to hear updated versions..like Enchanted, Speak Now, Better than Revenge or Dear John! There was also another video that she filmed a while ago and I wonder what that could be for.

yeah I definitely get the feeling it's about that fantasy of the fairytale of love slowly falling apart, whether that's because of her own relationships or her parents or stories (or all of the above). I totally get that beach read idea!

I am still excited for the features, they're not like specifically exciting features to me but I'm looking forward to the songs!

haha yes I was close to getting my name in a taylor song but not quite 🤣 I agree about trying to guess what a song will be about from the title because I'm so often wrong, but sometimes (like with castles crumbling) it feels really clear. whereas ones like timeless could be anything.

I think dear john tv is going to be soo good with her stronger vocals! the only one I'm a little apprehensive about is last kiss because it's so specific with the shaky breathing and everything, but so far I do think she's done well at capturing the emotions of the originals. there's been so much happening recently I'd forgotten about that music video! I'm excited to see what that's about!

[cjsinkythoughts]

Windows Down, Music Up

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3730

Warnings: !FATWS Spoilers!, Cursing, Lotsa Fluff, Slight Angst, Talk of PTSD/Flashbacks, No Seatbelts at One Point (WEAR SEATBELTS!)

A/N: The Part I didn’t know I needed. I started writing and this is where it got me. I needed these soft moments after the intensity of the last few parts. I know I said there’d only be one part left, but…I didn’t know this Part would be so long. So three parts for episode 5 it is!

I hope you enjoy this! I know it’s not really a part of the show, but I love the idea and I think both Bucky and the Reader needed it. Plus the show has a lot of leeway this episode because time passes but they kinda skip over traveling and stuff, so I thought I’d give you a glimpse of what it looks like in mine!

Not beta’d, as per usual! All mistakes are mine and please excuse them! Be kind to yourselves and others! Enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

******************

“So what’s next?” You questioned, your feet hooked onto the bar below the bar you were sitting on so you didn’t fall. Not that you could - Bucky was right next to you, his hand flying to your thigh every time you shifted even a little bit to keep you steady. “Walker’s been arrested, we have the shield, Karli’s in the wind…where does that leave us? Do we have any leads on Karli right now?”

“The GRC is conducting raids to try and find Karli, but so far they’ve only found her followers. They’ve searched this camp, and just like the last camp, nothing. She’s gone. And we’ll never find her.”

You huffed at Sam’s words, rubbing your temples as you grumble, “way to look on the bright side.”

“What bright side? There’s not one here, cher. Not this time.”

“Hey.” Bucky snapped. “Back off, Sam.”

You grabbed his forearm and squeezed reassuringly. “Hey! You got your, uh, you got your sleeve back!” You turned at the familiar voice that caused Bucky to scoff lightly and shake his head.

“Torres!”

The kid smiled at you, waving as Bucky pushed off the bars, helping you down (he’d been refusing to let you do anything on your own since you woke up) and started walking towards the door. “Hi, Y/N. It’s been a while.”

“Are you off to take care of Zemo?” Sam questioned, making Bucky look over his shoulder at the three of you. The former assassin raised an eyebrow at you. You nodded, and he turned around to leave. 

“Alright! Good to know you survived!”

You snickered a bit at the kid. “It’s good to see you.”

Torres turned back to you and grinned. “You too. I really am glad you survived.”

“I know you are, kid.”

Sam looked at you questioningly. “Are you gonna go with him?” You pursed your lips, chewing your cheek, and nodded. “Alright. C’mere.”

You frowned as he lifted his arms, but walked into them anyways. “What’re we doing right now? This isn’t goodbye. We’ve still gotta find Karli.”

“For now.” He responded, setting his chin on your head, careful of your shoulder. “But we don’t have any leads and I’m sure we’ve been benched. So, until we do and we meet again, stay safe. And take care of yourself. And for the love of God, please have that conversation with cyborg, now.”

A small puff of laughter came from you and you nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you later then, Sammy.”

He pressed a kiss to your head, before letting you go. “Later, cher.”

“Bye, Y/N!”

You smiled, waving to Torres. “Bye, kid. Keep out of trouble.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you walked out the door Bucky disappeared through earlier, turning down the hall to exit the building.

When you got outside, you found Bucky leaning against a wall, narrowed eyes watching the police as they finished the raid. “Do you agree with it?”

“What?”

“These people getting arrested.”

You shrugged, shoving your hands in your pockets. “They harbored a criminal.”

He looked at you with a frown, eyebrows knit together and forehead creased. “We harbored a criminal. We broke him out.”

“Technically he broke himself out.” Your joke fell flat, Bucky’s head dropping. “Buck…” You sighed, eyes following a lady as she was shoved into the back of a car. “No. I don’t. I think these people have been through enough.”

“But?” His eyes grew sad as you met his gaze again, making you smile softly at him.

“But we can’t do anything about it right now. So we need to focus on doing what we can and finding Zemo.”

He nodded, reaching for your hand as he straightened and started walking off. You grabbed his fingers, jogging slightly to fall into sync with his strides. He seemed to notice and slowed down slightly. “We already know where he is, though. Don’t we?”

You hummed, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Where else would he be?”

“Anywhere.”

You shook your head. “No. He’s there. Question is…how are you going to take care of him?”

“Sam thinks I’m gonna kill him.”

His blunt statement made you raise an eyebrow. “Are you?”

Licking his lips, he looked down at you, eyes set with certainty. “No.”

Your lips pulled up at his answer, leaning closer into him, shoulders brushing. “Good. Not that I’m an advocate for never killing people ever…it’s just,” you chewed on your cheek, thinking about the previous day’s events. “Revenge and justice are two different things.”

“Yeah.” He agreed softly. “We kinda witnessed that.”

“Yeah…we did.”

He let go of your hand to wrap an arm around your shoulders, tenderly avoiding your wrapped wound. “Good thing I contacted Ayo while you were sleeping then, huh?”

“You did?” You looked up at him with a smile as he nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah. And…I’ve been thinking a lot. Since our conversation about Wakanda and Zemo and Sam. You were right.”

A smirk graced your lips, an eyebrow quirking in amusement. “Pardon me? I don’t think I heard you correctly. What was that?”

He rolled his eyes, reaching over with his free hand to shove your head lightly, making you laugh. “You are such a punk sometimes. I’m serious though, doll. I-I’ve been…I dunno…I haven’t been thinking straight. The whole thing with Zemo was wrong and-and Sam didn’t deserve what I was blaming him for.”

You froze in your steps, tugging him to a stop as well, staring at him thoughtfully. Just since that phone call a couple weeks ago he’d grown so much. You could barely believe what he was saying - that he was finally saying it. He was a stubborn ass sometimes, so to hear him say that? It just stunned you. You knew he was a good person, but this…you felt yourself falling more, which you thought was impossible.

“Doll? Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

Your arms raised around his neck, tugging him down into a hug, your lips pressing to his cheek. “I’m just proud of you.” You murmured softly, kissing his temple. He ducked his head, leaning against your shoulder, arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You held him like for another minute or two, before kissing his temple again. “We should get going. Gotta get to Sokovia before the Dora do.”

He hummed in agreement, pulling you tighter against him and squeezing you slightly, before letting go. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“Question.” You said once you two started walking again.

“Possible answer.” He replied, making you elbow him as he chuckled.

“How’re we gonna get to Sokovia?”

He blinked, tilting his head. “Uh…plane? Unless you wanna have a road trip. The plane would only take a couple hours at most and a car, well…I could have us there in under a day with some broken traffic laws.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “Know what? I could go for a road trip right now.”

“Yeah?” He grinned at you.

“Yeah. And yes, you can drive. Just don’t get us in the middle of a high speed chase.”

He winked, kissing your head. “No promises.”

**********************

Bucky was actually a very good road trip partner. He made sure you had plenty of your snacks and let you control the music, turning up the volume for your favorite songs, shouting the lyrics to the heavens as you danced in your seat, the windows rolled down, wind ripping through the car, ruffling both of your clothes and hair.

You grinned over at Bucky, bobbing your head to the beat as he stared back at you, his eyes soft and sparkling. “Watch the road, dork!” He chuckled as you shoved his face.

“I’d much rather watch you.”

You felt yourself heat up despite the cool breeze moving through the car. “Have you ever stuck your head out the sunroof?” You suddenly asked him.

He gave you a weird look. “What?” Feeling a bit mischievous, you smirked and unbuckled. “Woah, woah! What are you doing?! But your seatbelt back on!”

“Oh calm down!” You stood on the seat after opening the sunroof, the top half of your body outside the car. He laughed as you whooped and hollered.

“Alright, alright. Sit back down, doll.” He tugged you back in, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

You smiled, putting your seatbelt back on and plopping your feet on the dash. “Like what?”

He turned to look at you, his teeth pulling his bottom lip between them contemplating. “Carefree. Relaxed, even.”

You shrugged, leaning back in your seat. “I don’t get to do it often. But it’s so hard to care right now.” You gestured out to the gorgeous landscape you were moving through, the sunsetting on the horizon. “The wind, the music, the open road. Nothing feels more like freedom.”

“Yeah…yeah. I guess. I’ve never really…been on a road trip. Unless you count going across Germany in that little blue car-”

“Ha! That was not a road trip! That was Steve being a reckless dumbass driver for a few hours.”

He laughed. You’d heard him laugh before, but this was different. Something about the freedom you were talking about made it different. It was nice. And you’d do anything to hear it more often.

“I’ll take you on a real road trip once this is done.” You vowed. “We’ll hit all the states. Even go through Canada to get to Alaska. Nothing but us in a car for weeks. Wherever we wanna go.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

You winked. “You do that.”

Conversation died after that, the only sounds being you and your music with the occasional chuckle from Bucky at your over dramatic dancing. You made a few stops at gas stations, getting food and drinks, before you felt yourself start winding down as the stars came out, winking down at you. You didn’t even realize you drifted off until the car jostled, waking you up.

“Sorry, sleepyhead.” Bucky apologized. “There was a deer. Maybe if you put your seatbelt on you would’ve stayed asleep.”

You rolled your eyes, rubbing at them and blinking. It was still dark out, no hint of the sun peeking out yet. “They’re uncomfortable.” You grumbled, shifting and wincing at your leg which was still asleep. “What time is it?”

“Almost two.” Bucky answered. “Are you okay? Is your shoulder hurting?”

“No. My leg’s just asleep so it feels weird and it’s aching. You want me to drive so you can sleep?”

“Nah, it’s fine. We’ll be there in a few hours. I’ve got it.” 

You hummed, sitting up and digging through your bag for some food. “Hungry?”

“Uh…I’ll just take a bag of pretzels.” Nodding, you grabbed one of the bags and handed it to him. It was quiet, the radio now turned low on some jazzy station you were sure Bucky turned it to once you fell asleep. “I’ve been thinking-”

“Hope you didn’t hurt yourself.” He shot you a bemused look, making you giggle. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

“I’ve been thinking of that fight. With Walker.”

You tensed, clearing your throat as you munch on your snack. “Oh?”

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, you saw him lick his lips, setting the bag down on the middle console, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “When you were fighting him…why-why’d you hesitate?”

“What do you mean?���

He glanced over at you quickly, forehead creased. “You had the shield. You were holding your own. I’m sure Steve taught you some stuff…but then…” He trailed off, seemingly trying to find words. “It was like that first fight. On the semi trucks. You hesitated. Got distracted. Why?”

You shrugged, turning back to your food nonchalantly. “I guess I just had a lot on my mind. That’s all.”

“I know you better than that, doll. Please don’t lie to me.” Turning to the window, you just noticed that yours wasn’t down anymore. You look over to his side to see his was only a little cracked open. “I didn’t want you to wake up so I rolled them up. Answer the question.”

Letting out a sigh, you shrugged again. “I’ve been having…flashbacks.”

“Flashbacks?”

You nodded, sipping on your water bottle. “Yeah. Kinda like PTSD, but it’s not. Not really. They’re never traumatic or anything.”

You could see the gears in his head turning, his jaw clenching. “What are they about then?”

“Steve.”

The tension in his shoulders slipped, his head ducking while still keeping his eyes on the road. “Oh…why…why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want anyone to worry about me with all the other problems we’re having-”

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped up from where they fell at his sharp tone, his gaze meeting yours. “Don’t ever think that. Ever. You’re not a fucking burden, Y/N. You’re important to me. I-” He cut himself off, shaking his head and looking back out the front. “Does Sam know at least?”

You pursed your lips. “I-I told Sharon?”

He groaned, head falling back against the seat. “Sweetheart…”

“They’re just memories. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is if it’s affecting you on the field. And if it’s gonna get you or someone else hurt-”

Crossing your arms, you shifted in your seat, feeling the ache in your legs from sleeping in that position too long. “What? You don’t trust me now?”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying!”

“What’re you saying, Buck? You can’t have me watching your back because my mind’s messed up right now?” The car came to a halt and you sat up, looking around worriedly to see if any cars were coming. “James, we’re in the middle of the street-”

“Look at me.” You turned to him, only to look away at the intensity of his eyes. “Doll. Look at me.” He repeated tenderly, grabbing your chin between his fingers, making you face him. “I trust you.” His tone was nothing but genuine, and you’d never seen him look so sincere. “With my life, I trust you. But if your head isn’t in it? It’s okay, you just need to tell someone. When did you start trusting me?”

“At the airport in Germany.” You answered quietly.

He tilted his head. You kinda missed his long hair - the way it used to get in his eyes and you’d have to brush it behind his ear. “Even though I could still get triggered?”

“Well, yeah. But that’s different! You wouldn’t have been in your right…mind if you were…triggered…”

He raised an eyebrow as you frowned. “Trusting you and trusting your mental state are two different things. I’d know. Sometimes our brain’s do stupid things and we can’t stop it. But we can get help.”

You sighed, hanging your head. “Okay. Alright. I got it. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just…tell me about it.”

You nodded, before looking at the road. “Okay, okay. But can you drive? We’re still in the middle of the road.”

He chuckled and nodded, starting up the car again. After a moment, he glanced at you. “So?”

Another sigh left your lips, before you told him. You told him what’s triggered you so far and what the memories were about. How it feels when you slip. “It’s like, I remember something and my mind latches onto it and won’t let me out until I relive it again.” He just nodded, never interrupting as you explained what was going on.

It felt good to finally get it off your chest. And it felt good knowing he wasn’t freaking out and pulling you from the mission like you thought he’d do. It was something you hadn’t done in a long time. The last person who sat down and listened to your problems was Steve and the fact that you felt comfortable enough around Bucky to pour out your soul made you realize that Steve was gone. But Bucky was here. And maybe it was time to let go.

Bucky looked over to you when you stopped talking abruptly, cocking his head to the side. “Sweetheart? You alright?”

You lunged forwards, hugging his shoulders, burying your face in his neck. Fortunately for you, he had great reflexes, or else you’d probably be wrapped around a tree. You couldn’t care about the what ifs though. Sniffing, you closed your eyes, a couple tears leaking down your cheeks and landing on the skin connecting his shoulder to his neck.

“Thank you.”

It was so soft and muffled by his shirt, you weren’t sure if he heard it. But then he set his cheek on your head, his hand coming up to run through your hair like you did to him when he needed comfort. “C’mere, cuddle bug.” He cradled your head, shifting you easily so you could lay down comfortably, your legs curled in your seat, your head in his lap, taking extra care that your shoulder wasn’t agitated. “Try to get more sleep, doll. We’ll be there soon.”

You nodded, sleep taking over you once more with Bucky’s fingers in your hair, soft jazz still floating through the air along with the slight whistle of the wind from the crack in his window.

****************

You leaned against the hood of the car, crossing your arms, watching Bucky pull on a shirt. You had stopped at a rest stop to clean up and change, just a few more miles until you got to the memorial.

“Ayo’s there already.” Bucky spoke, shrugging on his jacket. You pushed off the hood of the car to pull him closer by the sides of his jacket, your fingers moving to button it. “I just…I want a couple minutes alone with him.”

You nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

“You trust me right?”

“More than anything.” You confirmed, looking up at him, smoothing his jacket down with your hands.

He nodded, leaning forwards to kiss your forehead. “I just - I just need you to know…I’m not gonna kill him.”

You nodded back, smiling softly at him. “I know.”

“Okay…let’s get going then. Get this over with.”

It didn’t take you long to reach the memorial, only a few more minutes down the main street and then going off down a side road.

Just as Bucky said, the Dora Milaje were already there, waiting for the two of you to show up. Bucky and Ayo had a conversation in Xhosa - which you were really regretting not learning anything more than “hi”, “please”, “thank you”, and “where’s the bathroom?” - before he turned to you.

“Stay with them. Just...I just need a couple minutes.” You nodded, eyes flickering down to the gun he pulled out from his coat pocket. He hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze back to him. “Trust me.”

“Sometimes our brains do stupid things.”

He shook his head, kissing your forehead. “Not this time. ‘Cause I have help.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded. He gave you a reassuring smile, before stepping away, out of the trees to face Zemo. You couldn’t hear what was being said, but you had to admit that when Bucky lifted the gun, your heart skipped a beat. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He promised.

The quiet click of the gun seemed to echo, a pressure lifting off your chest as the bullets spilled from Bucky’s hand, clattering against the ground.

You figured that was the signal, considering Ayo led her badass women out to grab Zemo right after the bullets hit the ground, so you followed them out. You stopped next to Bucky, his hand slipping out of his pocket to wrap around your shoulders, tugging you to his side, your arms wrapping around his waist.

“I was listening to your heartbeat. You get nervous for a second, doll?”

You hummed in response to his question in your ear. “I trust you…but that doesn’t mean you don’t raise my anxiety levels.”

He snickered, kissing your temple, before straightening to listen to what Ayo had to say as she stepped towards you. She informed you both that Zemo would be going to the Raft and told Bucky to stay away from Wakanda for a while; both very fair statements that you weren’t surprised to hear. What you were surprised to hear was Bucky’s next sentence.

“I may have another favor to ask of you.”

Ayo raised an eyebrow, signaling for him to go on. Bucky caught your eye and his lips twitched up into a small smirk, before he faced her again and started speaking Xhosa, making you groan.

After their conversation, Ayo nodded. “We will drop it off here tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.”

You pouted as Ayo turned to walk to their ship, Bucky starting to lead you back to the car. “You’re not gonna tell me what that was about, are you?”

“Nope.”

You huffed. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

He chuckled. “You’ll find out.”

“Soon?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

Bucky shrugged, pulling open the passenger side door for you. “On when Sam wants you to see it.”

You narrowed your eyes, a smile spreading on your face. “You got Sammy a present?”

“Maybe.”

You groaned, sliding into the car before he shut the door, watching him jog to his side. “You’re so annoying.” You spoke once he got in and started the vehicle again.

“If you feel that way, you don’t have to come to Louisiana with me to drop it off.”

Scoffing, you gaped at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

He shrugged, turning in his seat and putting his hand on the back of your headrest to back out of the spot he parked in. “If I’m so annoying-”

“You’re so dramatic!”

“I thought I was annoying?”

“You’re both!”

He grinned at you, before looking through the windshield, blinking as something occurred to him. “I dunno where we’re going. We have to come back tomorrow morning-”

“Just drive, Buck.”

He blinked at you, eyebrows raising in slight shock. “What?”

You shrugged, nodding your head to the road. “Drive. Wherever we want, remember? Just until tomorrow. We can go back to reality after we pick up Sammy’s gift, but for now-”

“Just drive?” He guessed, the corners of his lips pulling up.

You smirked, shooting him a wink before propping your feet up on the dash again, turning up the radio, and linking your hands behind your head. “Exactly, Buckaroo.”

[mara-xx217]

Pokes head

May I request Michael being a possessive daddy and fighting a killer who hurt his girlfriend ? It can be anyway you like 💙

Why of course you can~ This isn’t based in Dbd, but the normal world. Hope you don’t mind!

Possessive, Protective Mikey

You were like some sort of disease to Michael. Or, perhaps, a parasite was a better descriptor of how you affected him. You wormed your way into him, deep into his chest, right beside his cold, soulless heart. You made him… feel, regardless of what that actually meant, it was beyond unacceptable in his eyes. That warm, painful throbbing in his chest was more than distracting, it was nauseating, disturbing. Terrifying… In a sick, twisted, wrong way, you terrified the Shape of Haddonfield. Michael fucking Myers was absolutely terrified of a small, defenseless creature that was completely helpless against the evil and cruelty he wielded against the world. He should kill you a hundred thousand times over for this transgression! But… it wouldn’t make him feel any better. He only… feels more empty every time your cheeks are stained with tears. Cold. Dead. Michael would feel dead without you…

This isn’t the first time he’s caught someone hurting you. It’s happened many, many times over, and his reaction has ranged from blinded rage to searing hatred. Not just for the one harming you, but towards you, yourself. It was that lack of control that drove Michael insane. He couldn’t watch you 24/7, couldn’t always follow you around or know where you were at any given moment… It drove him fucking crazy, and he took that frustration out on not just the asshole unfortunate enough to have crossed paths with you, but onto you, as well.

But, even that was quickly losing its luster to him. Michael had thought that hurting you would bring him some sort of fulfillment, like it has always done in the past when he had hurt others. It never has, though. Sure, he’s lied to himself, trying desperately to convince himself that seeing you all small, all scared and teary-eyed brought him a measure of enjoyment, to have your blood on his hands, to have you groveling in terror before him- but it didn’t. It- He- Michael felt… not good, when that happened. You made him… stop to consider how his actions would affect you, and he hated that.

Michael despises that you’re a magnet for trouble. That you just can’t seem to stay the hell away from people that want to do you harm. Sure, he doesn’t mind killing them. Quite the opposite, in fact, he rather enjoys seeing them covered in their own blood, begging for their pathetic lives before he mercilessly snuffs them out. No, Michael hates that you get hurt in the first place. The only one that should ever have the right to put their hands on you was him! Him, and him alone. Anyone else would be destroyed.

Some wannabe serial killer punk had set his eyes on you. Luckily for you, Michael knew better than to leave you to your own devices, anymore. He caught the little bastard scoping out your home before you had any idea of the danger you were in. He’d make sure that, this time, he’d be in complete control of the situation. You won’t be hurt, but that idiot thinking that he can do as he pleases? He’s going to regret the day he was born…

Sitting in your kitchen, you drank what must be your fifth coffee of the night. Strange things were happening, and it left you unable and unwilling to sleep at night. Rustling outside your windows, the sound of someone possibly jimmying your doors and windows, looking for a possible way in… Muddy footprints on your porch and small, dead animals left on your door mat… It was becoming too much. You’re… pretty sure it wasn’t Michael. He did love to torment you, but this wasn't really his thing. He was much more… direct, with his approach to you. This… this was someone else…

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you rub your eyes, feeling them water involuntarily from how dry they were. Anxiously, you tap your fingers on the top of the counter, before sighing heavily and grabbing your coffee mug. You decided to make your way to the living room, thinking that some TV would help calm your nerves and get your mind off of things. Fuck, I’m exhausted… You thought bitterly as you crashed onto the couch, nearly spilling lukewarm coffee all over yourself.

Picking up the remote, you absentmindedly flipped through channels, not really wanting to watch anything. It was just something else to focus on, rather than the impending sense of dread that was washing over you. This feeling was one that you were well acquainted with: the feeling of being watched. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your palms were slick with sweat. Slowly, you sit up, clumsily placing your mug on the table in front of you. The hairs on your entire body stood on end. Something’s not right here…

As you begin to rise off the couch, a firm hand pushes you back down into a sitting position. Your heart jumped up into your throat. You’re very familiar with Michael’s hands, and the one still gripping your shoulder was much, much smaller than his… Short, shaky breaths escaped through your clenched teeth. Fuck..! Oh shit- Oh my God no no no-! You don’t dare to move, only stare straight ahead at nothing as your mind runs wild with possibilities. Who the hell is it?! How did they get in?! Why me?! Where the fuck is Michael when I fucking need him?!?

The intruder sucks in a deep breath, as though he’s about to say something, but instead yelps in surprise as he’s ripped away from you suddenly and violently. You gasp, shooting up and scrambling across the room, back peddling into an opposing corner. Curling in on yourself, you crumple onto the floor, watching the brutality unfolding before you through the cracks of your fingers.

Michael had thrown the intruder back, sending him crashing into a mostly bare bookshelf, breaking most of the shelves along with it. You cringe and jump, feeling your insides twist and revolt against you. Michael drops to the floor, straddling the winded, smaller man as he desperately tries to fight back. Vainly. It was laughable, really. The idiot didn’t stand a chance against the human incarnation of evil, itself.

Michael briefly debated on playing with his food. There was something about seeing them crawl and beg that really set him off, but when he glanced at you over his shoulder, in the fetal position and hyperventilating, he actually decided against it. It was getting under his skin seeing you like this, and the quicker this is… inconvenience is dealt with, the quicker things will be back to normal. Well, to Michael’s fucked up definition of the word “normal”, that is.

With a quick stab to the back of his neck, the intruder was killed. Normally, Michael would have painted the walls with this creep’s blood, but he decided that it would be too much of a pain in the ass to clean up. With a flick of his wrist, Michael twists and pulls out the blade, wiping the excess blood onto the back of his victim’s shirt. He looks back over to you, and sees you stiffen. His… Huh. His chest actually hurts…

With a heavy sigh, he stands, stepping over the dead body as he makes his way over to you. A major part of you was beyond terrified. Is he gonna hurt me..? Oh- Oh God..! I’m gonna- I’m- I’m gonna..! You were trembling, shaking so hard that your teeth were actually chattering audibly. Michael’s eye twitched. He was conflicted: one part of him loved that you were this scared of him, as you should be, but the other… the other hated it. He- Well, he wanted… something, but he just didn’t know what. Fingers twitching, he reached out to you, struggling to ignore how you froze as he slowly approached you.

You really thought that he was going to grab you by the hair and drag you off to the bedroom, so when his fingertips just barely brushed the top of your head, moving the hair from your face, you were, well… at a bit of a loss. Michael has never, ever been that gentle while touching you. Ever. You raise your head slightly, just enough so that you could see him. He still had that damn mask on, of course, and his body language hardly betrayed what he was thinking or feeling, but- You couldn’t deny that his fingers were trembling ever so slightly.

He slowly crouches in front of you, treating you as though you're some kind of animal that will either bolt at the slightest movement or go for his jugular, or something like that. You don’t move or speak, unsure of what he was doing. When he placed his hand where that stalker touched you, gently- carefully squeezing your shoulder as though you were made of glass, you… you relaxed.

You could tell that he was struggling to be gentle, with how his fingers twitched uncontrollably and the pressure of his fingertips varied. You looked up to him, then down at his chest as an odd warmth spread through your cheeks. Michael was extremely possessive over you. He hated it when you interacted with anyone else, especially other men. But, right now, even though another man had touched you, he wasn’t flying off the handle like he usually did. He was still extraordinarily pissed off that he had given the bastard just enough time to physically touch you, but it was remedied.

He was fucking dead, and you were still here. You were his and his alone. That wasn’t called into question. There was no dispute. Michael Myers is the only person that is ever allowed to touch you. You’ve come to accept this, and slowly but surely, you’re even beginning to enjoy his touch. As sick and messed up as it was, you’ve started to develop feelings for him, despite the fact that he made your life a living hell. If anything, you knew that no one would hurt you ever again. No one, except for him.

[ripleycano]

streps! I'm gonna have to ask you to go off about why hajime is easily the most entertaining protag bc i wholeheartedly agree with you and i would love to hear your hot take

OKAY OKAY OKAY! i've been WAITING for this one here we go

there's a couple of reasons why i enjoyed hajime more than any other protagonist i'll list them

1. makoto is a lovable main character, komaru is top tier, shuichi is wonderful but you know what's so funny about hajime? he brings a sense of realism to the game that feels so bizarre in the wacky world of danganronpa

putting aside all the izuru kamukura shenanigans (which makes him a really unique protagonist btw), hajime is just... such an honest reflection of the average player yk

nothing will beat one of the characters acting like wildly exaggerated versions of real life personalities and hajime just going "??? why are you like this????" and usually being the only voice of reason

realistic doesn't mean boring at all though!! there's like 80% of hajime's character that i never see people talking about, it's always 'yeah he's kind of a tsundere' lmaosa 

like. have you seen this man? have you seen his ass reciting poetry into the night sky at the start of the game because he was feeling a little emo? are we forgetting that his first reaction to the killing game was to bury his face in his bed and scream until he passed out? answer me this, danganronpa community: when will we discuss the way hajime never fails to pose like a wronged vampire in his closing arguments?

he is so dramatic... he puts gundham to shame sometimes

on top of all that, he’s not as much of a jerk as the fandom makes him out to be? i honestly don’t know where that came from other than his pessimistic tendencies because he’s actually rly sweet

in the official manga / anthology comics / 4 panel comics too! he gave nagito another hope’s peak ring after nagito got panicky about losing the first one he received, politely offered to help him with cleaning the old building in chapter 1, playfully went along with gundham’s dark demon overlord act and introduced himself as the god of the cow folk or something shkjsd

and i could name so many more times where he tolerated the sdr2 cast way better than a normal person would

other than all that he’s just had some great moments in game that brought me a lot of joy

-”shUT UP!!111! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!11″ punk protag hajime walked so emo protag shuichi could run - the fact that he just... walks out on confusing conversations??? like he just announced he was leaving at the end of nagito’s ftes because he simply felt like it and just... turned around and left???? -johnny yong bosch did such a phenomal job as his va -some descriptions of hajime we got from the cast: akane said he was warmer than anyone she’d met, fuyuhiko said he had a ‘harmless-looking face’, both nagito and fuyuhiko suspected his talent to be things like ‘ultimate counselor’ and ‘ultimate serenity’ :,) and uh hiyoko is hiyoko lol

also hajime completely rejected toxic masculinity on multiple occasions.. king

anyways i have like 5000 screenshots of my favorite fte dialogue moments with him lemme know if you ever want them lol

i love hajime and i could talk about him anytime😌 this is just the tip of the iceberg hahsdkja

2. he’s hot

[wiypt-writes]

You Cut A Mean Rug, Doll Face

Bucky Barnes One Shot

Summary: It’s no secret that Bucky Barnes has women falling at his feet, but it’s very rarely the other way round. He’s the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, well according to Steve anyway. So, when you find him hiding to avoid a certain Private’s advances, it amuses you no end…until she shows up and you find yourself offering to be his ‘Fake Date’ for Stark’s upcoming USO Gala Dance.

Fake Dating in the middle of a war…what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Bad language words. Smut. (NSFW 18+)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N:  So this is written as part of @anika-ann​’s 1111 Follower Challenge. Congratulations darling! My prompt was Fake Dating.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

 **********

“Hey, Steve.” You greeted the blonde super soldier as you walked into the little make-shift kitchen, deep in the underground London SSR HQ.

“Afternoon, Agent.” He nodded and you rolled your eyes, picking a piece of fluff off your khaki green uniform jacket.

“Seriously, after everything we’ve pulled together we’re still at agent?” You raised an eyebrow drawing a soft chuckle from the man in front of you as he poured a coffee into one of the tin mugs on offer, holding it out to you.

“Sorry, force of habit. Y/N. That better?”

“Much.” You nodded, taking the mug with a thanks, pulling a face as you took a sip. “God, all the technology we have and I still can’t get a decent cup of Joe.”

“Maybe you should have a word with Stark.” Steve shrugged. “He seems to be able to lay his hands on most things, rationing be dammed.”

“Well, you’re the man with the plan and he’s the man that can.” A smirk pulled at your face as you watched Steve fight the urge to roll his eyes. “Anyway, where’s Barnes? Colonel Phillips is riding my ass about a report he hasn’t filed. Keeps moaning on about us being unable to run strategic operations if we don’t actually do any strategizing.”

At that Steve’s face broke into a grin. “He’s hiding.”

“Hiding?” You frowned. “Chester isn’t that scary, he’s a pussy cat if you figure out how to make him purr.”

“Okay there are so many things wrong with what you just said that I’m not even going to go into.” Steve snorted and you flashed him a grin as he continued. “He ain’t hiding from Phillips, he’s hiding from Private Lorraine.”

“Why?” You paused, mug hovering an inch or so from your mouth.

“Well according to Stark who heard from Jones who heard from-“

“Yeah, yeah, skip to the interesting bit about why Barnes his hiding like the cowardly lion” You cut him off and he raised his eyebrows, his smirk growing wider.

“She wants him to ask her to that USO dance gala thing Stark is hosting.”

At that you felt the heat in your neck, jealousy, at the thought of the blue-eyed solider you’d been harbouring a crush on for months, like some love sick teenager, dancing with someone else. You carefully held Steve’s eyes and licked your lips, hoping you hadn’t given yourself away too much.

“Of course she does.” You shrugged, clearing your throat. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Why is he hiding?”

“He doesn’t want to go with her.” Steve shrugged, taking another sip of his drink and this time you did absolutely nothing to stop the grin that spread across your face.

“How come?”

At that Steve hesitated for a moment before he popped a shoulder again, slightly avoiding your eye line. "No idea."

You knew he was lying, he was notoriously bad at it, but before you could call him out, a deep voice spoke from the doorway.

"Sure your Ma told you it was rude to talk about people behind their backs, Stevie." Bucky grumbled as he walked into the room.

"Yeah, and I'm sure yours told you it was rude to do a lot of things that you still do anyway." Steve shot back and Bucky merely rolled his eyes, walking to the coffee pot and helping himself. 

"Well, I’m astounded." You looked at Bucky as he turned around, leaning slightly against the small units that lined the room. "James Buchanan Barnes is fanning a woman away."

"Yeah, I don’t make a habit of it, Doll Face." He eyed you shrewdly over his mug.

"Still, never thought I'd see the day." You hummed, sipping your drink.

Bucky rolled his eyes and gestured with his mug towards Steve. "Now you sound like him."

"So, humour me, Barnes. What is it about her that’s making you run for the hills?"

Bucky hesitated for a moment before he winkled his nose and answered you. "She’s not my type."

"Really? I thought every woman was your type." 

At that, Steve gave a chuckle. "She's got you there, Buck. I don't think I saw you without one before you shipped off."

"Shut up, Steve." Bucky bit back before he gave a low groan. "She's just..."

"Just what?" You scoffed. "Tall, blonde with big, come-to-bed eyes and pouty red lips? What's not to fall over? Dum Dum follows her around like a dog."

"Sweetheart, Dum Dum would probably chase a pig wearing lipstick if he thought he had a chance." Bucky looked at you his eyebrow raised and you heard Steve give a little snort of laughter. You turned slowly to him, and his eyes widened a little as you narrowed your eyes.

"What's your excuse?"

"His excuse?" Bucky paused, mug poised at his lips as Steve began to flounder over his words, a pink flush spreading into his cheeks.

“Yeah, he kissed her.” You informed and Buck gave a loud groan, placing his mug down on the side. "Peggy caught them, big time."

"She kissed me." Steve protested and at that Bucky sighed. 

"What has my life become? Seriously?" He shook his head, his eyes flicking between you and Steve. "I’m hiding because I don’t wanna go dancing with some broad whilst this punks beating ‘em off with a stick."

"Shield." You corrected as Steve made an exasperated noise in his throat.

"I’m in a nightmare, right?" Bucky finished.

"’Fraid not, Buckaroo." You placed your now empty mug besides his on the wooden counter. "But I suggest that you get your report to me on the Dresden raid or you really will be in a bad dream. Colonel Phillips wants them pronto and I'm not taking the flack because you're too lazy to do it."

Bucky groaned. "How am I supposed to think about that with all this other shit going on?"

"Nice to see you have your priorities straight." Steve scoffed and Bucky glared at him but before he could reply, a loud girly laugh filled the kitchen and you saw Bucky still.

"There you are!" Private Lorraine spoke and you exchanged a glance with Steve, a look of utter glee spreading across his face at his friend's discomfort. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, Sergeant Barnes."

"Now what on Earth would give you that idea?" You quipped. As usual, she completely ignored you and watched as Bucky turned to look at her.

"Well, you found me." He nodded, a false smile spreading across his face.

"Yeah, I did. So, err, this dance, do you have a date or..."

Bucky took a deep breath, "well, the thing is..."

"Yes, he does." You blurted out, before you could stop yourself. You stepped forward and slipped your hand into his, ignoring the shocked look he gave you as you stood by his side. "He's going with me."

"You?" Lorraine looked at you, her eyebrows shooting up so high they almost disappeared into her hairline.

"Yes, me." You smiled. "So, you'll have to find someone else to go with. I think Duggan might be free."

"Well, suppose there's no accounting for taste." The blonde woman in front of you looked you up and down and you bristled under her glare, your nostrils flaring angrily. Sure, you might not have her model looks, hell, you might not even be conventionally pretty in some eyes, but you sure weren’t going to make her let you feel like shit. You'd been brought up by a loving family who made you realise your worth and that despite what anyone else said, you were just as good as them. You continued to hold her gaze and eventually she licked her lips and looked away.

"Well, erm, that's..." she clicked her tongue against her cheek, before deciding to cut her losses and she left the room.

The three of you stood in silence before Bucky turned to look at you, a smirk spreading across his face. "You, are a genius!" He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you swallowed slightly, feeling the heat in your neck. "I owe you, big time."

"Yeah, you do." You shrugged. "You can start by doing that damned report. And then you’re buying me a drink at the Gala, seeing as we're, you know, fake dating."

"You got it, Doll." Bucky saluted, flashing you a wink.

"Fake dating?" Steve muttered, and you turned to look at him as he shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. "I've heard it all now."

You cleared you throat, and removed your hand from where it was still in Bucky’s and swallowed. "I need to get going. That report, Barnes. Don’t forget."

"Anything for you, Darlin'." Bucky grinned.

You gave him a last little smile, and then turned leaving the room letting out an inward groan.

What the hell had you just got yourself into?

****

“Why did I do this?” You sighed, looking at your reflection in the mirror, shaking your head.

“Because you’re sweet on him.” Peggy matter of factly replied and you shot her a look in the mirror. She gave you a knowing smirk and you sighed.

“I just felt sorry for him, okay?”

“Sorry for him?”

“Yeah, you know what she’s like, she wouldn’t leave him alone.”

“Admirable.” Peggy nodded, stepping forward so she was behind you, reaching up to fix another pin into your up do. “So what’s your master plan? Act the part tonight and break up tomorrow?”

You shrugged. “Haven’t thought that far.”

“I doubt you’ve thought at all.”  The brunette looked at you, her perfectly shaped eyebrow raising slightly.

“You know, you and Steve really are a match made in heaven.” You scoffed, stepping to the side as you smoothed down the dress you were wearing. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it traced your curves perfectly and made a nice change from the uniform you spent every day wearing. “Go take your righteous indignation and discuss it with him. That is if you’re speaking to him this week, I can never keep up.”

At that Peggy pursed her lips. “We’re not discussing me and Steve, we’re discussing you and how you’re going to get through the next however long pretending to date someone you actually want to date.”

“Well, it could be worse.” You shrugged.

“How?”

“I could be about to spend however long pretending to date someone I don’t like.”

Peggy looked at you for a second and you held her gaze, challenging her to say anything more on the matter. Eventually she merely raised her eyebrows before she turned and looked at the clock.

“We should go.”

With a deep breath you took one last glance at your reflection, grabbed the small clutch from the cot in your room and followed her out.

*****

The small dancehall in London's Soho District was packed with soldiers and civilian staff alike, and you accepted the drink offered to you by a waiter as you entered the main room, the Big Band already playing a bluesy-jazz number as background music, whilst people stood around the room, chatting. It didn’t take you long to locate Bucky. He was stood with Steve and the rest of the Howlies by the bar, all of them dressed in their best uniforms. Taking a deep breath, those pesky butterflies fluttering away in your stomach, you made your way over with Peggy and she let out an annoyed sigh as the men all blatantly looked the pair of you up and down.

“You’d think they’d never seen a woman before.” She mumbled and you scoffed out a laugh.

“Well, we’ve been running missions with them for that long maybe they’ve forgotten that we actually have boobs and a vagina.”

At that Peggy stopped to look at you, and the pair of you started to laugh.

“You are so uncouth.” She shook her head at you, as you linked your arm through hers and continued your path towards your team.

“Like I said, I’ve been in the field with these bozos for over a year, guess their bad habits are rubbing off on me.”

“Well, as long as that’s all that’s rubbing off on you.”

“Agent Carter!” Your mouth fell open in mock horror, turning to look at her as she continued facing forward, her lips quirked up at one side in a barely there smirk. “Now who’s being uncouth?”

“Ladies.” Dum-Dum greeted you with a tip of his bowler as you approached and you nodded to him, smiling before you turned to look at Bucky.

“Wow.” His eyes flicked up and down your form again, and you swallowed, a warm feeling spreading over you as his eyes took in your outfit and when his eyes finally met yours he cleared his throat and you gave him a small smile. “You err, look great. I mean, compared to how you usually look.”

At that Falsworth, Dum-Dum, Dernier, Jones and Morita all snorted as Steve let out a groan.

“Thanks. I think.” You frowned.

“No, I err…I didn’t mean it like that.” Bucky hastily began to back track as Dernier mumbled something in French, of which you caught the words ‘stupid idiot’, Jones hastily agreeing. “I just, well, it’s different to how I’ve seen you before.”

“Well a tight dress and courts ain’t exactly practical for hiking through woods and mounting stealth operations.” You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. “But for the record, you look exactly the same as you usually do.”

At that the men all roared with laughter as Bucky sighed, dropping his head. “Guess I asked for that.”

Bucky watched as you gave him a small grin, before you turned to talk to Jones, and he took the chance to observe you properly. You looked good. You always did in his eyes but tonight, you were a knock out. Your dress hugged the curves of your thighs and hips, nipping in at the waist with a neckline that showed him just enough skin to leave him imagining what it would feel like to pepper your collarbone with kisses. Your hair was set in a perfect style, your lips rouged, you looked effortlessly stylish. He swallowed, sliding his finger in between the collar of his shirt and neck in an attempt to loosen the starched material as he suddenly flushed very, very warm. He felt timid, awkward, and that in itself made him feel a strange juxtaposition of irritated and amused. Bucky Barnes didn’t get nervous around women, that was Steve’s speciality. But here he was, flapping over how best to ask you if you wanted to get a drink whilst that punk was laughing away with Agent Carter hanging off his every word.

No, this wouldn’t do.

With a small cough, Bucky cleared his throat and dropped his hand to the base of your back. “You want a drink, Doll Face?”

You smiled up at him, blinking and nodded. “Yeah, thanks Buck. A gin would be great.”

Bucky waved over the bartender, placed your orders and had just turned back to you when he spotted the woman who’d thrown him into this mess in the first place, Private Lorraine arriving with some other poor, unsuspecting soldier from the unit. Bucky didn’t know his name, not that he cared.

“Hey,” he nudged you and you turned to face him and he jerked his head, “guess this fake date worked.”

You followed his eye-line and visibly bristled a little bit before you shook your head and shrugged. “Poor bastard.”

“You really don’t like her, do you?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Just a hunch.” Bucky smirked, passing you your drink, before he gestured with his arm for you to follow the group who were now moving away from the bar to find a table. “After you, Darlin’.”

*****

You had to admit, you’d had your reservations but as it turned out, the night was pretty fun. Whilst you’d been hyper aware of Bucky besides you, you felt reasonably relaxed. His arm had dropped round your shoulder at one point, pulling you in for a friendly hug, the way he often did out in the field, and you’d simply enjoyed being as close to him as you were.

Because, fake or not, a chance to date Bucky Barnes didn’t come along that often.

It was a couple of hours later when you both found yourself at the table with Steve who made an excuse he needed the bathroom and left. Bucky snorted as Steve headed across the room and shook his head.

“Bathroom, he must think we’re stupid. He’s gone to find Peggy.”

“Aww, don’t. I think it’s cute.” You smiled, turning to look at Bucky. “Don’t you? I mean we’re fighting a war and in the middle of all this bloodshed and horror, he’s found someone who…” you trailed off as Bucky was watching you, a strange expression on his face. “Or not…am I talking nonsense?”

“No, it’s not that.” Bucky shook his head. “I just, guess I never thought about it that way. But you’re right. Suppose none of us know how long we have left, especially at the moment.”

He trailed off, his eyes scanning yours for something, but what you weren’t sure. You felt your cheeks warm and you glanced down at your hands, before you turned to watch the dancing going on around you. It was crazy when you stopped to contemplate that, in the midst of all the devastation and destruction, life was still going on. Bucky was right, your time could be up in a flash at any point.

“Well, seeing as you put it so eloquently,” you looked at Bucky, jerking your head to the dance floor. “Wanna show me how it’s done in Brooklyn?”

“Do you mind if we don’t?” Bucky shook his head and your heart sank. “I just…well, I…”

“No, you don’t need to explain.” You hastily back tracked. “I just thought it might keep up appearances, that’s all.”

There was an awkward silence, Bucky studying you for a moment with an expression you really couldn’t place and then, well, it all became too much.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You made the same excuse Steve had given moments ago, and before Bucky could say anything, you rose from your seat and walked away, as dignified as you could, trying not to let the tears that were stinging your eyes fall down your face.

*****

Bucky watched you walk away from him, your movements graceful as you headed round the tables placed around the edge of the dance floor, taking care to avoid the groups of guests as you went. He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. This was a mess. It had started out as a bit of fun, you helping him out, because that's what you did, but he'd been a wreck all night. Frankly, being in such close proximity to you was making his head swim.

He'd wanted to dance with you, he'd really wanted to dance with you, but he didn’t trust himself because the truth was he liked you. A lot and he had done so for a while. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself to hold you on the dance floor without trying to kiss the life out of you. So he’d said no, and let you walk away, and the look of hurt on your face was now burnt into his mind. With an angry snort he stood up and stalked to the bar, signalling for another drink.

He stood there, nursing his glass for what felt like an age, seething at his own stupidity until a familiar voice cut through his murderous thoughts.

"Did HYDRA scramble your brain or something, Buck?"

"What?" Bucky's brow furrowed as he turned to look at Steve.

"You’re missing a girl's signals."

"Signals, what are you..."

"Y/N, you dolt." Steve rolled his eyes.

"What about her?"

"She likes you, has for ages."

"I don’t think so, Steve" Bucky snorted.

Steve sighed and leaned against the bar as Bucky necked his scotch. "So explain the look she had on her face as she stalked passed me before.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. "She wanted a dance, dames love dancing. I said no.”

“And why did you do that?”

Bucky took a deep breath and didn’t answer. But he knew Steve could see right through him, the punk always could.

“Buck, what exactly did you think I meant that night at the bar when we first came to England a couple of months back? About Peggy having a friend? I meant Y/N."

Bucky blinked, his mouth dropping open. "What?"

"She's sweet on you. Falsworth told me. I was trying to give you a hint."

Utter frustration lanced through Bucky's entire body and he shook his head. "How in the name of Hitler’s left ball was I supposed to understand that?"

"Well, I thought it was obvious."

"No, no it wasn't, Steve!" Bucky groaned, his eyes flicking around, trying to locate you in the crowd but he felt his heart sink as there was no sign. "Oh, I fucked up, big time."

"Suggest you go fix it then." Steve shrugged, his voice a little slow as he himself was busy looking at Peggy as she walked towards him, smiling. He stood up straight and clapped Bucky on the shoulder, before he walked off, leaving his sergeant alone.

Bucky anxiously continued to search the room with his eyes, and felt his heart jump as he saw a flash of colour the same as your dress, and your familiar profile as you walked onto the dance floor, your hand in Howard’s as the man smiled at you, pulling you into a hold.

Oh, fuck you, Stark!

Without wasting another second, Bucky necked his scotch and moved, striding around the dancehall towards you, not watching where he was going which was why he collided straight into Dum-Dum.

"Woah, Barnes, where's the fire?"

"On the dance floor, I hope.” Bucky sidestepped round the broad man quickly, his eyes entirely fixed on you as he weaved his way round the various couples all in the middle of a reasonable slow dance until he reached the pair of you.

He cleared his throat, gently tapping Howard on the shoulder as your eyes fixed onto his, surprise etched across your face.

“Mind if I cut in?”

xxxx

“Did it work?” Peggy asked Steve as the pair of them stood to the side of the hall. Steve glanced over the dancefloor, just as Howard stepped away from you, kissing your hand in an over-the-top gesture before he turned and walked away. Bucky approached you tentatively, and Steve saw you give the faintest of nods, before his friend took you in a close dancing hold.

Grinning, Steve turned back to Peggy, jerking his head to the floor. “See for yourself.”

As the pair of them watched you and Bucky for a second, Steve’s eyes then fell on Howard who had paused to talk to someone. Almost as if he could sense the Captain’s eyes on him, Stark glanced over, a smug grin crossed his face, and he gave Steve the thumbs up sign.

Steve smiled into his glass, the irony at the fact that Bucky had tried and failed many times to fix him up with gals in the past yet he’d managed to turn the tables in a single try, wasn’t wasted on the Captain.

xxxx

“Funny looking bathroom.” Bucky cleared his throat as he steered the pair of you round in a gentle dance.

“Oh, well I got waylaid a little.” You replied. “And seeing as we’re not actually dating, I didn’t think it was an issue.”

“It’s not, I just…” He was quick to reply as he drew in another deep breath before he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

 “What for?”

“Before, saying no the way I did. It was rude.”

You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you glanced up at him. “So, is that the only reason you’ve come to dance now? To apologise?”

“Yes, I mean, no.” Bucky stumbled over his words as he shook his head. “No, I wanted to dance. More specifically I wanted to dance with you.”

His admission settled like a bubbling brook in your belly. You wondered why, so you asked, "why?" 

Your mind began quickly doing the math, adding up the moments and signals between the two of you, wondering if what you dared to think was actually what he was thinking too. You were nervous but you remained close in your dance, your eyes flicking between his and his lips as he spoke, the words drowning in your ears, his voice sounding like your head was under water. 

“Because I like you, Doll Face.”

Then, you felt it, your body leaning in just a smidge as you tilted your head upward as his moved just a pinch to look down at you. Your lips brushed his and the electricity took off as he pulled you in for a deeper, slightly less modest kiss, the hand that had been curled around your waist moved upwards at the same time his other released yours from his hold, and calloused palms and fingers cupped your jaw and cheeks. Despite the roughness of his skin, his warm hands felt soft against your face like the finest silk whilst his tongue dipped into your mouth, kissing you in a way that your Pappy certainly wouldn’t approve of.

But you approved, boy did you approve.

The sounds of the big band drowned out the mewl that bubbled from your delicate throat to those around you, but not to Bucky. He heard the elicit sound clear as day, and that was enough. He wanted to get you alone, away from prying eyes.

He pulled back, casting a quick glance around before he looked down at you, "let's get out of here."

It was a suggestion as much as an instruction, and he waited as you blinked, before you gave the slightest nod and he took your hand, turned, and led you from the dancefloor.

****

How the pair of you made it back to your quarters, you had no idea, but here you were, stumbling into the small room, heated kisses being shared as Bucky kicked the door shut, his lips still fiercely on yours. Your fingers were now deftly undoing the buttons of his jacket before you pulled it open with a flourish, shoving it down over his shoulders and arms as Bucky was quickly pulling off his tie and opening the collar of his shirt. Before long, that was also discarded somewhere on the floor and your hands slid up his strong biceps, down his chest, tracing the taught muscle before your fingers hooked into the front of his uniform pants and you turned your attention to his belt, breaking the kiss a little so you could look down.

“Eager, Doll?” Bucky mumbled as his nose nudged at your chin, pushing your head up. His lips trailed across your jaw line, and then down your neck and you tipped your head back, your eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his lips on your skin, relishing the feel of his soft mouth and the delectable gentle scratching of his five-o-clock shadow.

His hands slowly slid up your sides, before they moved round the back, his lips pressing to yours as you felt his fingers gently guiding the zip of your dress down. Once it was undone, you stepped back and allowed it to fall into a pool at your feet. Bucky glanced down and groaned as his blue eyes scanned the stockings, garter belt, lace panties and matching bra.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His lips crashed back to yours as he backed you towards the cot at the side of the room.  As the back of your knees hit the metal side of the frame, he gently lowered you down, positioning himself over you, caging you with his arms and his legs as his mouth continued trailing soft kisses down your neck and her jawline.

You were powerless to stop the soft noises of pleasure you were making, try as you might, conscious of the fact the walls in the Quarter-Hall were thin, something you cursed on a daily basis as you could hear the squeak of the cot which belonged to the neighbour to your right as she turned over at night. Luckily for you, your springs were untested so to speak, therefore didn’t make a sound, unlike you at that moment in time.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bucky suddenly stopped, his mouth hovering by your ear and you stilled, tilting your head to look at him. “I mean, this…well, it aint proper really, but…”

“Since when did you give a damned about being proper with a Dame?” You teased, fingers wrapping in the chain of his dog-tags, but there wasn’t a shred of humour in Bucky’s tone or on his face when he answered.

“When that dame was you.”

You blinked, and looked at his face, finding nothing there but a genuine softness and you were overcome with the emotions and sensations you were feeling and you yanked on the chain in your hands, pulling his head back down as you crashed your lips back to his.

“Yes, yes I do. I want this Bucky, I want it so much.” You mumbled against his mouth and he gave a groan, before he stood up, quickly, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out the small condom packet, one you recognised as the standard issued to all soldiers to avoid them catching anything when they were putting it about during furlough, so to speak, and he sat back down on the edge of the bed, bending down to unlace his boots.

Bucky was mentally cursing the damned things as he felt you stir behind him, the hard mattress of your bed dipping slightly, and he stilled as he felt your fingers gently brushing over the back of his shoulders. Your touch was feather light as your hands gently felt across his broad back and he gave a sigh, tipping his head back slightly to catch your lips in a deep kiss.

“Doll, if you want me to do anything to you tonight, I gotta get these boots off.”

“So take ‘em off.”

“Stop distractin’ me then.” His accent dripped from his tongue as he chuckled, and your lips curled into a smile against his.

“You saying you can’t handle a job with a little distraction?” You gave a tut, but pulled away a little to allow him to finally get the damned things off. “And Steve says you’re our best marksman.”

“Well, what does that Punk know?” Bucky tossed the boots to the floor with a thud, before he quickly raised his hips enough to allow him to slide off his pants. Then, in a flash he turned, pinning you back to the cot, smirking at the giggle that burst from your mouth. His hands trailed down your body, flicking open the clips on your garter straps without so much as a fumble, before the reached up and snapped the hooks at the front of your bra.

He took a moment to appreciate you, the soft, supple lines of your breasts a complete contrast to your toned shoulders and taught stomach, both the result of an extensive training regime.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He leaned over, kissing you softly, his lips tracing a track down your sternum before he softly took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue gently teasing, eyes flicking to your face to watch your reaction. 

You groaned at the sensation, rolling your head back on the pillow, hips bucking upwards as you let yourself go, barely daring to believe that his was happening, but just as you were questioning if you were in some elaborate dream, a low moan from above you caused your fluttering eyelids to jerk wide open. You could feel him hard, pushing against you and your hands moved round to his back.  You dragged your fingers up his spine, as his hand moved down, sliding into the waistband of your panties making your gasp as his fingers slipped into your folds. As he teased you, your hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from your lips as the heat began to build in between your legs, deep in your belly.

“Good?” Bucky’s voice was a rasp, and it was all you could do to do whimper softly, your head falling back further as your mouth dropped open, your entire body shuddering as the pleasure lanced through you. You reached down, grabbing his wrist and his eyes moved to yours, waiting.

“Want you.” You whispered softly. Almost as if he’d been waiting for that final bit of permission, Bucky’s fingers hooked into the top of your panties, gently sliding them down your legs, gathering your stockings as he went, a movement he had clearly perfected through goodness knows however many other clandestine liaisons. Discarding them to the floor, he wriggled his way out of his own underwear before he sat back on his heels and you moved, grabbing the packet he’d placed on the small bedside unit before.

Bucky groaned softly as your hands gently wrapped around his cock, sliding the condom down. It really shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was but he was almost ready to blow before he’d even started. Once it was on, he crawled back over you, his thighs gently parting yours a little further and with a steady, slow motion he slid into you, the sensation caused both of you to groan, your head falling back against the pillows as Bucky stretched you, his girth and length filling you completely.

"Fuuucckkk.” Bucky breathed out as your tight heat gripped him, his word little more than a whisper. He moved his hands to snake his fingers through yours, gently pinning your hands by the side of your head as he began to move his hips. He went slowly at first, picking up the speed slightly as you keened underneath him, his dog tags sliding in the valley between your breasts, the metal cold against your heated skin.

Your hips bumped together with every thrust he made and, with each rock into you, he was rubbing against that soft spot deep inside you. Your soft cries stuck in your throat, your senses completely overwhelmed as the fire in your body was raging white hot.

“James,” you whispered his name, and Bucky let out a low groan, his fingers tightened around yours as he gave a particularly deep thrust, making you purr in delight. He raised his head to capture your lips, plunging his tongue into your mouth before he released your hands, his own cupping your face as he continued to move.

In that moment, you could have been anywhere. In a hotel, surrounded by the finest silk sheets that money could buy or on some far away beach in the corner of the world, but instead you were led on a hard mattress in a military base, knowing full well you were in for some serious reprimand if you were caught, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the man who was currently undoing you piece by piece as the two of you were tangled in your own private dance.

The more Bucky gave, the more you wanted, and as he hiked your leg up round his waist, his fingers curling round the back of your knee you choked out another pant of his name, “James,” as you felt yourself nearing that point where you’d drop over that oh-so-steep cliff edge. The tips of your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, causing him to groan loudly, his head tipping backwards.

“You feel so good.” His voice was nothing but a whine, and at his praise you gave another low, sultry gasp, your breath now coming in ragged gasps. “God, Y/N,” he moaned loudly as you titled your hips, pushing back up against him, his head dropping slightly. “You close?” he gasped and you nodded softly, your lips falling open and once again he kissed you, hard, his movements speeding up ever so slightly.

“Don’t stop.” You begged, shaking your head as you grasped at his back, “please, so good.”

Bucky felt you shudder underneath him and a few thrusts later your back arched and a soft cry escaped your mouth as your eyes fluttered shut and your head tilted back, mouth open in a now silent scream. He could feel you tightening, pulsing around him as you came and that was it, enough to tip him straight over the edge behind you, the surge and ecstasy of his relief causing his whole body to stiffen as his hips faltered. A groan burst from his mouth as he gave a few final, sloppy thrusts before he collapsed forward, his head burrowing into your neck.

You both lay still for a moment, before Bucky regained enough composure to prop himself up, placing a soft kiss to your lips and as he pulled away slightly, he found you looking up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, heavy lidded eyes blinking slowly in your sated state, and he smiled at the fact you wore that just fucked look so damned well.

“You okay?” He asked softly and you nodded, a smile playing on your lips before you kissed him again.

“More than okay.” You grinned, your nails gently scratching at the nape of his neck. “You got moves, Sergeant.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he kissed you again, his lips hovering over yours. “Well you weren’t so bad yourself, Agent.”

*****

 “Nice of you to show up.” Colonel Phillips looked at you as you walked into the briefing room. “Late night, was it?”

“Sorry, Sir. I didn’t get much sleep.” You mumbled, avoiding Bucky’s eyes as he looked down at the table, a grin on his face.

“Huh, I could have sworn I saw you leaving the dance early.” Dum-Dum quipped and you shot him a glare as you took up a seat next to Peggy who licked her lips, fighting a smirk.

“Whatever, I’m not interested.” Phillips sniffed before he tossed a file down on the table in front of Steve who reached over to take it. “We have word that HYDRA are intending to move Arnim Zola.”

“Do we know where to?” Steve asked, looking at the file before he glanced up and Peggy shook her head.

“No, this is hot off the press so to speak. Stark’s team intercepted their encrypted broadcast. All we know is that they’re nervous about moving, and that the route has been carefully planned to avoid any long, open distances.”

“They’re going through the Alps.” Phillips moved to a map at the side of the room. “Trying to maintain a cover so to speak. Our surveillance team still has Zola at his current location, but that could change at any time. Captain, I need you to co-ordinate and mount an operation to intercept that train and apprehend him.”

“If you know where he is why can’t we just bust in and get him now?” Bucky asked.

“Because you’ll never get there in time.” Phillips replied. “As we understand he’ll be moving out in a couple of hours. So we’re up against it. The window of opportunity lies about six hours into his trip where there’s a slight break in the mountain cover.”

“How do we know this is kosher?” Falsworth took the file from Steve. “They could be leaving a false trail.”

“We hacked a number of broadcasts, each saying a different thing.” Peggy answered. “But this one held the code words we know HYDRA are using today.”

“And our codebreakers have never let us down before, so I’m willing to take a punt.” Phillips nodded. “Get to it, we don’t have much time.”

There was a flurry of movement around the table as you all stood up, Steve barking instructions at you all to collect what you needed and head to the transportation hub immediately as Dum-Dum mentioned something about zip wires and ambushing the train from above. As you all sidled out of the room, a hand gently closed over your arm and you turned to see Bucky as he fell into step besides you.

“Just so you know, I don’t normally make habit of splitting before breakfast.”

“Oh, you normally eat first?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He smirked and you gave a chuckle. “I just didn’t want you thinking-“

“It’s okay, I get it.” You assured him, and you did. He’d left in a flurry that morning before he could get caught sneaking out of the small room you had in the female quarters and you didn’t hold it against him at all. 

“But, I’d really like to take you out, properly, I mean. When we get chance.”

“You asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah.” Bucky stopped, turning to face you. “A real one this time.”

You smiled and nodded. “I’d like that. Oh, but just so you know, I don’t put out on a first date.”

“No? Then what was last night?”

You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. In all honesty, you had no idea what had come over you last night. You’d never behaved in a reckless manner with a man like that before and taken him home so easily, for fear of getting yourself a bad reputation. That said, you didn’t really care either. You were in the middle of a war, running dangerous missions, any of which could be your last. Life was for living, and as long as you were breathing, you intended on making the most of it.

You opened your mouth to explain this to Bucky, but you stopped yourself and instead you simply smiled at him, your eyes looking straight into those steel-blues which were sparkling with mischief.

“Doesn’t count, it wasn’t a real date.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Bucky arched an eyebrow and you nodded.

“Yup, that’s how it is.”

“Well,” He took a deep breath as the pair of you continued walking, “guess I’ll just have to show you a real good time when I get the chance.”

You snorted and shook your head. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“It’s been said.” He grinned as you reached the end of the corridor. “But, first we’ve got a German scientist to catch. Think you can contain yourself around me long enough to run a mission?”

“Okay, first off he’s Swiss.”

“What?”

“Zola, he’s Swiss. I don’t know why you all think differently, it’s in all the briefings and his file-“

“Yeah, I don’t read those.”

“Well you should, you might learn something. And second -“ you held your hand up, finger extended, instructing him to keep whatever wise crack he was about to make to himself, “-you’re not that irresistible.”

Bucky blinked before he gave a laugh and shook his head. “You know, I actually learned a fair bit last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I learned that you cut a mean rug, Doll-Face.” He glanced around, before he leaned closer, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered into your ear. “And that you look even better with your clothes off.”

With that he turned and headed off towards the equipment store, leaving you staring after him, blinking with shock, but feeling an overwhelming sense of smugness that, even in the middle of all this bloodshed and fighting, you had something to look forward to when you got back.

[beyondspaceandstars]

Skype

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluffy! Summary: While away on a mission, Bucky finally decides to learn what Skype is. A/N: i know this account started with star wars writing but i do also write marvel stuff (if you’ve ever checked out my ao3 thats super obvious lmao) so yeah i’m gonna incorporate that work onto here because why not? i write for a few fandoms here and there and enjoy it all very much! this was originally posted on an older blog but i’m working to transfer stuff here!

MASTERLIST

You adjusted your laptop screen and glances back at the little clock in the corner. It was almost 2 AM for you, but Bucky assured you it was morning by him. You didn’t really know where him and the team were (sometimes stuff was just too sensitive of information and you, the resident nurse for the team, didn’t have approval for it) but it didn’t really matter, as long as you could finally see your loving, smiling boyfriend’s face.

Days, almost weeks, passed since you last saw him and while texting and phone calls were adequate, there was just something so special about getting to face him to talk about your days.

However, convincing Bucky to actually use Skype was a challenge all in its own. He had just began to understand the "moving pictures" (Gifs. Gifs they were gifs) you liked to send him so conducting a video chat felt out of his wheel house.

But once you promised him it was safe and the rest of the team offered to help with any technical difficulties, he agreed to give it a try.

"If I don’t like it you’re just going to have to stick to sending those — oh, what are those called? Selfies?" Bucky had told you after linking your Skype accounts.

"Selfies, yeah," You chuckled. "You’re such an old man."

Your stomach fluttered at the memory remembering how certain he was to show you he was anything but an old man after saying that.

The familiar dinging of the Skype ringtone brought you out of your scandalous daydream. Your heart jumped — he had actually figured it out (or, at least someone with him had).

Excitedly, you clicked ‘accept’ and within seconds you were greeted by a very scruffy, tired looking Bucky. His hair was an absolute mess and bags were starting to form under his eyes, but nevertheless he had the biggest smile when he saw you.

"Hey, doll," He greeted you with a little wave, as if not really believing you could see him.

"Bucky!" You exclaimed, unable to hold back the wide smile creeping on your lips. Bucky blushed ever so slightly at your excitement. "How are you? How’s everything going?"

"We got some intel today, but stuff’s moving slowly," he explained in the most boring way possible. You learned to get used to this when talking about any mission. He liked to say so little yet so much at once. "You can really see me on this? This is odd."

You chuckled, "I don’t know why you’re so amazed, you guys use video chat all the time."

"Well, yeah," Bucky shrugged. "On super fancy military-grade devices. Didn’t know a civilian laptop had all this power."

You couldn’t help but let a laugh out at that one. The terms and silliness of his statement  was just too adorable for you to take him seriously. Watching a hundred something year old in a young adults body maneuver life was something else.

"Were you able to get it working okay?" You asked. Bucky immediately started shaking his head before you finished the question, which made you shake your head, smiling.

"No way," He said. "Steve helped. Somehow that punk knows way more about computers than me."

"We’re gonna have to pay him for lessons," you joked, trying to suppress your laughing but failing miserably. Bucky just playfully rolled his eyes as your antics.

"If you’re done bullying me about my lack of technological skills, I would like to hear how your day way,"

You readjusted on the bed, getting comfy under the duvet you two usually shared. You were occupying his side of the bed currently, something you did without realization when he was gone.

"It’s not much work when you guys are gone," you said, trying not to show any longing in your voice. Maybe phone calls were better — when facing you, Bucky could always pick up on any little thing wrong with your demeanor. "I caught up on some paperwork and continued my research. Never realized the number of species this universe could have."

As the resident nurse, you took it upon yourself to learn about any and all species that may roam out there just because you never quite knew what the team could come back with. One day you could be patching up a secret agent and the next it could be a god. You liked your brain to be ready for anything.

Bucky scoffed, "You’re telling me! Feel like it’s something new everyday."

You gave him your warmest, understanding smile. "You know, it is just really good to see you."

"It’s great to see you too, doll," he said, softer than normal. "You know I’ll be home soon, right? Gonna be waiting to patch me up?"

You sighed, knowing the super soldier was reading you once again. Sometimes you hated how he could recognize everything that was wrong and this was one of those times. You didn’t want this to be sappy — in fact, you though this could be less depressing than texting — but really seeing him there and not in bed with you made your heart sigh.

"Of course," you nodded. "Always going to be there for you."

As Bucky was about to make another comment, a yawn you had been trying to suppress made itself known.

"Someone getting sleepy?" Bucky chuckled as you scooted down in the bed, engulfing yourself in more duvet and pillows.

"Me?" You asked, yawning again. "I’ll be up for hours."

Your boyfriend shook his head, a sly smirk resting on his lips. He shook his head, "You should get to bed, honey."

"No," you protested. "We just got on!"

"I can call you later, honey," he assured you. "We have some work to get to anyways."

You groaned, not wanting to go back to the reality that you’re alone in a normally shared bed, gripping his pillow and side of the duvet as if your life depended on it. It was almost pathetic, but you couldn’t help yourself. You missed him dearly and every mission there was a chance he may not… No, you stopped your brain, you weren’t thinking about it. You would go to bed thinking about what you two would talk about in the morning.

"Okay, babe," you sighed. "I love you. I can’t wait for you to be back in this bed."

He chuckled and nodded, "Trust me, there’s nothing more than I want to be holding you tight. I love you too, doll."