#came close to talking abt it bc i talked abt how i hate popcorn

[hopesbarnes]

Black Swan (4)

Summary: Y/N used to be a Russian spy under the code name Black Swan. But that was a lifetime ago, now she’s a part-time avenger, dance teacher, surrogate sister to Natasha Romanoff, and trainer to new Shield Agents. She’s come a long way from the days of killing targets and being tortured. But when someone from her past comes around will she be able to ignore her history anymore? Or will she end up falling in love with the only man her sister ever loved?

A/N: Will be reblogged to @rogvewrites​ at 12 pm tomorrow. I am also taking next week off from posting bc ya girl needs a mini-break.  

also! tell me thoughts and feelings abt this one:)

The two of you return from your adventure in the grocery store and unpack the car and restock the fridge together. You even make sure to organize in the way Steve likes to avoid arguing with him later. Why the spices needed to be alphabetical, you didn’t know. But you did it anyway. Better to just do it than have the same argument for the thousandth time. 

“Do you maybe wanna watch another movie?” you ask as you put his precious ice cream in the freezer after he puts a note reading ‘Eat and I will kill you - Winter Soldier’ on the top of the tub. 

“How about that one you mentioned at the store, Going to the Future?”, he suggests.

“Back to the Future, Bucky. It’s called Back to the Future. And you sure? It’s a trilogy and that’s a lot of time to spend with me!” you say half-joking, half-serious. He was still getting used to the tower and sitting through three movies is a lot

“I’m sure. I don’t mind spending time with you,” he admits.

“I kind of have to work on some choreography for a bit, but we can watch it later?” He nods and heads towards his room. You head towards the studio Tony constructed for you and Natasha and stretch while playing ‘Waltz of the Flower’, the song you assigned to the youngest group of girls, all aged 6-8. It would be their first ‘big girl dance’ and you had to make sure the choreography wasn’t too complicated for them to remember. It was Tuesday night now, and the girl’s class was tomorrow night. Trying to come up with a dance at the same time as teaching them was disastrous, so it’s better to come prepared and focused. 

It only took an hour or so to map out formations the girls would be in, and edit the music down to the time you wanted. You planned out the first minute of the song, and couldn’t do more until you see how it looked with the girls. Nobody else was around so you decided to play some music on the speakers and free dance. You let John Mayer’s voice fill the room and put on your pointe shoes, letting the music take control. Unbeknownst to you Bucky stood outside the room and watched from the window in the door. Your fluid movements and rhythmic turns captured him, and he knew he was starting to like you more than a friend.  

When you felt lighter and less stressed you stopped the music and removed the shoes. It was still pretty early so there was time to start the movie marathon. After a quick shower, you called him through Friday and arranged to meet him in the group living room. 

Bucky came, ice cream in tow, and hesitantly laid against the couch. You popped a bag of popcorn and got settled in.

“So there’s three of these?” he asked and you laughed.

“Yup! We can watch the others another time though, we have time,” you said and he smiled at the idea of having time. Time to just relax, and time to relax with you. You start the movie and he stays pretty quiet until the Delorian flies. Bucky looked amazed as the car flew. 

“You know Stark almost had a flying car before the war. I remember seeing it, it hovered a second or two ‘fore falling to the ground again.” he said fondly. You smiled at him, not wanting to ask any more questions in case it led to what happened to Tony’s parents. It was good that he remembered the event though. You had read all about the Stark Expo and Howard Stark’s car that floated in a time before cars even had mandatory seat belts. 

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for most of the movie, only adding small comments towards the movie or laughing as it played. When the movie’s credits roll, you look over to his spot on the couch to see what he thought. But instead, you see him sleeping soundly, his bowl empty and beside him on the couch. He looked peaceful, and you didn’t dare disturb that. You draped a blanket over him as the rest of the tower tricked in from their day’s activities. You shush them and send a stern look their way and they get the gist. Everyone but Steve retreats to their rooms. He points at Bucky and puts his arms out questioning but you just smile and shrug in response. He drops his things off by the wall and motions his head towards his room, silently asking you to follow.  

You followed Steve to his room and plop down on his couch, ready for a lecture. It no doubt was coming, he had his ‘dad look’ on. You had no idea the topic, but he always did this when he wanted to talk about something serious. Motioned to his room, and then sat on the chair opposite the couch.

“You and Buck seem close.” he starts, forming the words hesitantly. You just nod in reply.

“I haven’t seen him this close to someone since ‘fore the war. It’s nice,” he admits. “You know I worry about him, he spent so long taking care of me. Back when I was that scrawny little asshole who didn’t stop fighting. Figured I owe it to him now. He won’t ask for help, ‘s not him.” 

You nod. Boy did you know that feeling well. “It’s like me and Natalia. I took care of her when she was younger when she was naive. God, she used to think she was invincible and would get in such trouble. Never would’ve imagined it with how she is now. I mean, now I feel like she’s the mature one. Don’t get me wrong, I still have to hold her when she gets emotional, but she watches out for me more than I do for her now. The years have definitely flipped our roles.”

“Never seen her emotional, huh.” He says blinking in surprise. To Steve, she was the Widow that saved his ass one too many times. “But yeah. I guess like that. I, well, bring it up because I want to make sure you and I have the same idea when it comes to Bucky. He can’t handle getting hurt right now, it’d break him,” Steve says in an authoritarian voice. You were getting the strict girlfriends’ dad talk from him.

You laugh, “Isn’t the talk usually given to the guy not to break the girl's heart? Trust me, we’re just friends.” you sigh audibly. You didn’t want to date Bucky, even if he laughed at your jokes and looked like a good person to cuddle with. You shake the thought from your head. “Plus, I mean we can’t even date! Girls don’t date people their sisters were in love with that’d just be horr-.” You pause, realizing the word vomit that just came out. 

“Shit,” You say softly. 

“Shit,” Steve repeats back. He slumps back in the chair confused. “Shit is definitely right. I didn’t know Natasha was in love with Bucky. Heck, I didn’t even think they crossed paths. Wasn’t she KGB not Hydra?” he asks.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that, I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone. And she’s not in love with him now, she was when we were younger. Hydra and KGB were different sides of the same coin. They intersected at times.” You can’t believe you told Steve. What a great sister you are.

“Please promise you won’t say anything. Just try and forget I said anything,” you add on beggingly. 

 “So you knew him too? Before the airport?” Shit, you just accidentally opened a door to a story you hated going through. 

“If you promise not to say anything, I’ll explain.”

 “Deal,” he says. So you start retelling the story for the second time in two months. 

[dilfhakyeon-moved]

I wrote about death and Love

Just trying something out, not anything fandom-related ( or you can imagine it so if you want, but... that’s gonna be hard maybe lmao my mind went to at least three different fandoms while writing it and only one would maybe be fitting, but there’d be no characters for it except one )

Maybe I caught some of that Halloween spirit yeet yeet !

It’s set in a sort of fantasy setting if it can help understand why it can seem so,, heartless. and like. “we won’t do anything to help u”. it’s bc they Can’t bc they Don’t Know what to Do

there’s also a lot of confusion. that’s normal. i write like i’m writing a script for a film so don’t worry abt it if u don’t understand shit it’s bc i visualise everything and then i write it down without thinking about how shitty it will look hsfjdkhd

TW: death, sort of graphic description of stuff that’s kinda not cool ?, also stuff about someone who kinda goes so obsessed she can’t recognise reality I don’t know really but it’s macabre and depressing idk why I wrote that maybe it’s vent but idk why I’d write that to vent !! just. hm

Frozen. Here she lied ; was this truly her peace ? It couldn’t be. If herself wasn’t in peace, how could this bruised, cold skin and these pale, glassy eyes reflect any ? Glassy, they were. She was afraid of looking too long into them, might she see her own reflection in these gruesome mirrors. They were the mirrors of someone’s soul, once.

Tears fell next to them. She stood. A few seconds of reflection before a foggy breath left her, and she was kneeling back down.

Her frail hands were shaking as she took her cloak off, a deaf sob barely reaching her own ears as she carefully placed it on the other figure, covering shoulders and chest. She wished she could see her chest heave just another time.Not another time. More. She wished to see her blink, her eyes giving her stern but affectionate glare again ; she yearned to watch her as she took the cloak off and sat up, offering her a reassuring smile, and she stood, trying to rearrange her messy clothes ; she needed to see her move, as her skirt twirled around and her rare, but bright laughter seemed to echo comfortingly. Hearing her again. Feeling her breath and her gaze, and her words shooting through her mind in the worst ways, her fingers grazing her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. She wasn’t alone, she was fine.

Except she wasn’t. And she was alone, in her little world of fiction she was creating for herself - but in reality, there was no way she could be alone in such a place. However, the world around her had stopped existing, and soon, perhaps she would too. Only perhaps. Nothing in her seemed to show an ounce of concern over that, she hadn’t realised it yet. She wouldn’t realise it. Her mind was making her stare at saliva dripping from the mouth. A detail, but it hadn’t moved in hours at least. It was stuck, like stuck in time. But it wasn’t time, it was the cold. Time never truly stopped, only in people’s imagination.

Her fingers held a tighter grip over the cloak’s fabric, but one of them soon moved to rest on the body’s cold cheek. Colder than her own skin ; her body wanted to gasp, but didn’t have the strength to do so. Frozen.

“... out of here.”

The world still existed.

“Quick, get her out of here ! I won’t repeat myself a third time,” a harsh voice rang out, strong enough to wake her up. “If you leave her to die, I’ll make sure you meet the fate you deserve.”

She didn’t try to stand. She knew they were talking about her. They were always so careful, weren’t they... So caring. Her dark eyes narrowed. She slowly let herself rest on top of that body she cherished so much, closing her eyes - she felt herself go. Hands grabbed her shoulders and forcefully dragged her, she wasn’t nearly conscious enough to feel it. Her betrothed, dancing in a field, the war was over ; they laughed together. What war ? What was war ? Foreign... She laughed. The soldiers were distraught, but kept leading her away. Failing their mission meant death, especially with the war happening all around them. But she was so happy, in her field, with her loved one who’d never truly returned it, but love was blind, and love wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t as happy and beautiful as her grandmother’s tales had told her in such sweet lies. And she’d lied to herself. Love was beautiful.

They thought otherwise. Love was cold, and unforgiving. Love was made of stone, and breaking a person’s mind aroused Him in terrible, depraved ways. They’d been a victim of Him, just like the person they loved ; she’d succumbed, they stood their ground. They had to. They had to face Love, this merciless demon who couldn’t get enough of shattering every remaining piece of humanity in them. They endured the pain. Someone had to beat Love.

Up. Awake. Her eyes opened. The same ceiling made of stones... She was home. What relief. Minutes passed, then she moved. Stood from her bed, despite her leg giving in. She was standing ; she believed she was standing. She walked ; her body was crawling, but she was walking. Her entire left leg had lost its function to frostbite, but she believed she could walk. Looked around as she walked through different rooms, her smile constantly growing. She was home ! She only needed to find the one. 

An endless maze. She never realised it. Everyone else did.

They watched. Everytime she came back to the room they were in, their gaze lowered. After a few hours, they had closed their eyes ; a friend came to check in, asked if all was okay, and was rejected. And once they were alone again, tears fell. Tears fell next to her as she came back, and left them in what they were forced to call “being alone”.

Could they refuse calling it “being alone”, if the only person there was unable to even notice your simple existence ? They were alone.

It stopped after three days.

She was stuck on the floor, laughing hysterically yet so painfully. She hadn’t stood a single time, but this time she was unable to move. All she could do was laugh, and call for her love. She was hungry, she was thirsty, they thought. They’d grown almost indifferent to this miserable, almost pathetic sight. 

[ From the beginning, they’d known it would be yet another dramatic unrequited love story ; they’d sworn they wouldn’t pay too much mind to it. They wouldn’t trap themselves in attachment. Things had turned out in Love’s favour. They’d hated it. They hated Him. They’d hated how He made them feel, as what once had held a soul yearning for justice and truth became a well of insanity and suffering. Her smile had grown so much she didn’t resemble herself anymore.

“A crawlin’ monster on the carpet,” Love’d whispered in His husky, sultry voice, then snickered. “That’s what you’re thinkin’, boy. How could she end up like that ? You could’ve prevented it, nice guy.”

They’d clenched their jaw ; hadn’t responded. She wasn’t a monster ; she was long gone. And they’d never been a boy, nice guy. Love’d never listened, Love loved putting them through this. ]

But it wasn’t working on them anymore. Indifference, as aforementioned - things were easier to handle when their heart wasn’t being put into it. And somehow, Love had stopped tormenting them. All they felt anymore, was pity. There was nothing to be done ; they stayed there by habit. The walls around them didn’t change. The chair they were sitting on was still the same, and the people who bothered bring them some water and food occasionally were always the same.

Their eyes got lost after a few more hours ; as they stopped focusing and eventually fell asleep, she fell into a sleep deeper they’d ever known. Her last words weren’t words, a cry for help. A language they didn’t speak. They heard it in their dream. And as they woke up in the middle of the night, a last gift from Love awaited them : that macabre view. Her eyes still open, her mouth forever shaped into that terrifying grin she’d worn last, and the saliva dripping from her chin.

They stood. Walked closer. Love hadn’t left, just hidden. Maybe Love had won. Maybe they didn’t care anymore. The world seemed to stop existing, as they kneeled next to the body. She was cold, wasn’t she ? They could feel the cold ; their hands were shaking. She must’ve been cold as well. They took their coat off, draped it over her. The door opened, a voice spoke. They heard a scream, but did they really hear it ?

Or, were they stuck in their world where they were alone with their loved one both laughing and dancing in a field, when in reality they were alone without her - and their only company was the fight occurring, as the fortress was being invaded ?

It was likely they were unaware of reality.

Frozen.

Tag list: - @graceful-popcorn - idk who else would wanna be tagged in that tbh dhgkjdg