#direct compounding

[howdoesone]

How does one describe the process of compounding in morphology?

Compounding is a morphological process by which two or more individual words are combined to create a new word with its own distinct meaning. This process is used in many languages around the world, and it is an important aspect of word formation in morphology. In this article, we will describe the process of compounding in morphology, including its types, formation, and examples. Continue…

[whatudottu]

Do y'all think object heads have a peculiar vision? Well I certainly do!

If DJSS is actually a supernova then assumption probably brings with it the idea they were a star, and being a star where it sends light in every direction and vision is directly correlated to light, what if that means omnidirectional vision?

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[anxiously-kk]

this is just my opinion but i think the problem with cirie on big brother is that she is incredibly good at getting people to do what she wants in such a subtle way that a bunch of the audience watching the feeds doesn’t see it happening. on survivor we get nothing but edited packages that highlight key moves and they know what is important or game making to showcase because the whole show is filmed before it gets edited but on bb it’s happening live being edited as it goes and the show runners don’t always know what’s going to be key gameplay and don’t always highlight the right moments. plus i’m convinced the producers hate their tv audience and only have an edited show for the ad dollars so they put like no effort into the show and air too many silly goose joke segments and not enough gameplay. so people who watch the feeds regularly don’t get to see her explain how she’s setting things up in real time cause that’s rarely how feeds work, unless you’re a (video)cam talker but people who watch the show don’t get to see anything of substance at all. the problem isn’t with her obviously but i mean the problem is the show isn’t made to showcase her gameplay style (partly productions choice cause they could be better at editing but they don’t want to be)

[yusuke-of-valla]

You know it just occurred to me that Yusuke and Sumire would both be having slumps at the same time, and someone probably goes "hey maybe your sister dying in front of you? Has to do with why you're both having a hard time simultaneously?"

[pumpkinrootbeer]

Hardware Store is a Weird Al song. During the bridge, he lists off a bunch of different tools and appliances very quickly, which I suppose could be considered "rap" if you've never listened to an actual rap song.

ANOTHER?? ANOTHER WEIRD AL SONG? IN THE POST ABOUT HOW WHITE PEOPLE CANT BE NORMAL ABOUT RAP MUSIC ?

[thetreetopinn]

My ADD Medication Journey - Mar 15, 16 & 17, 2024

Oops... got distracted by other things (visiting the parents over the weekend). Forgot to make an entry here.

Friday, March 15th

Slept a little better then the previous night. I'd guess I managed somewhere between 4 and 6 hours. Not quite enough for my liking but it was sufficient to get me through the day.

I had taken a sleep aid--some over the counter antihistamines repackaged and rebranded as a sleep aid--and put on some soothing stuff to listen to while I lay in bed. It seemed to do the trick. I hope I don't have to keep taking the antihistamines every night I've taken my ADD medication.

Woke up feeling tired, but I'm used to that. Took my medication as soon as I was able to get something to drink--around 8:30am.

Work wasn't terrible, not as productive as I might have liked, but I did get enough done to still feel accomplished. The workload has eased down substantially now that A) we've kind of streamlined the process a bit and B) the backlog is effectively gone.

There's still some older stuff sitting there waiting for me to tackle it, but it's not super critical, and I've got other matters to address.

Tremors weren't as bad as the previous day, but still enough to notice.

I was able to focus enough on the things that mattered such that the most important things got taken care of.

I left to go see my parents immediately after work. For a not small stretch of the night, mom sat with me to go over my taxes so that we could both be reasonably sure I hadn't missed anything. I'm not super fond of the tax preparation services, and my state doesn't offer a proper free-filing method... because... well... fuck this state.

I got notice that I've been approved for my new apartment, and had to deal with some paperwork with that. More will be coming soon.

Went to bed later than I would have liked, but such is life.

Saturday, March 16th

Had trouble sleeping, but I got something like 5 or 6 hours of sleep I think. I always have trouble sleeping in a new bed, even if it's one I've slept in before, just not in a while.

Not taking my medication on the weekend so that I can guarantee a good night's sleep.

Got up early enough to eat breakfast with dad at a local place. Came back in time for him to go with others to go see a movie while mom and I babysat. That kid has waaay too much energy for me to keep up with.

Energy level was markedly lower than the last couple of days, but not low enough to make me need to nap as hard as I had during the weekends while on the previous run of medication.

Ended up napping anyway, but not for very long.

Finally came back home later than I would have liked but oh well. It didn't take long for me to start feeling drowsy enough to want to crawl into bed. Fell asleep fairly quickly.

Sunday, March 17th

Slept pretty well. Got more than 8 hours, which helped with the sleep debt from the week.

Took the day pretty slow and lazy, didn't have a lot I needed to get done, but of the things I should liked to tackle, I only got some of it done--such is life with ADHD and you don't take your meds.

I ended up feeling pretty tired at about 1 or 2 in the afternoon, to the point where I fell asleep in my computer chair for a little while.

I don't know if it's specifically the sleep debt thing because of the medication, or if it's also a function of just getting older.

Feeling a normal amount of tired as I'm looking at going to bed here in just a minute. Hoping to have a normal night's sleep.

[welcometoteyvat]

rant ahead lmao

i believe your gripes are completely valid because i have the same gripes. it feels like their storytelling (for the entire game) is all over the place. the high cloud quintet is literally something i’ve never chanced upon in the game. i only know it via fandom. this is similar to how that pyro butterfly lady is the crimson witch. only those who dig deep enough into the game will find out about it, and just like genshin, such “information” spreads quickly in the community.

HOWEVER, what genshin does better than star rail is that its main story DOES NOT rely on these snippets to tell its story. do i need to know she was the crimson witch when what happened to her happened? no. not at all. she was there for X purpose in the main storyline and therefore she did what she had to do and left. her being crimson witch was to add depth to her character which the main story had no space to do so.

stair rail, on the other hand, EXPECTS you to find out all these little tidbits, which to me is too time consuming and annoying. why split the story into its separate segments if i need to know them in order to understand the main story?? that’s just poor storytelling imho.

i think you’ll like this video. i agree with it. i get that the funeral for fox character was supposed to be emotional, but this video is right that we know NOTHING about this character. from my own personal experience, the funeral was so boring and honestly irritating because i. don’t. care. in fact, i didn’t even know she was with us throughout the quest so when she had her background voicelines i was always so confused????

i feel the hype around the characters is because the designs of each character have given people a desire to seek more about said characters, and there is abundance information. but this shouldn’t be something to expect of the players.

give me a reason to care that’s not just aesthetics, please.

video will be sent in next ask.

video: https://youtu.be/vaPL0UZK_HQ?si=puvssJPBLc2H57vk

ok thank you for validating me LMAO i was constantly wondering "where is the ancient dead people lore" (hcq) during the entire quest chain, which unfortunately contained very little of what fandom promised me (character depth). apparently i've not be reading enough books and pamphlets you can collect since the lore is concentrated there and in limited character's character stories

tbh I think the reveal that La Signora was the Crimson Witch was also really bad lol, for the same reason that the video argues DH IL's transformation is unimpactful. like "omg wow alternate identity revealed!" but it doesn't really have any impact on the conflict of the story we're currently looking at. they could've just switched it, or not even given her a transformation, instead just showing an extended duel with us and making it visible that she was tired and out of power before she dies, and I don't really know if anything would've changed. same with dan heng IL, I'd probably get more out of it if I read the hcq book from that one opera performer, but ehh there wasn't enough visibly shown leadup, like you said.

I guess the difference between genshin world lore (things in artifacts, weapons, books, world quests etc) and star rail lore is that genshin's is either about the past or future, but not necessarily about the present characters? thinking about the pale flame lore, which gave everyone the fatui crumbs before scara and la signora's stories were introducted in the main storyline, the enkanomiya quests about the vishaps and ancient history of teyvat, and the narzissenkreuz quests that also connect to that + khaenriah + a host of other world lore things. I guess it's nice that reading through all the materials isn't "mandatory" because it's either about the ancient past, dead npcs (so many of the artifact sets) or foreshadowing for important elements in the future that will still get introduced in the main story. I will be biased and agree w you, star rail's lore crumbs are rather :\ storytelling. like I would be fine if the hidden nuggets of lore were about >npcs >lore that happened but is not directly relevant to a character's main arc >foreshadowing for future events/story. but instead it's more like mandatory background reading that is crucial to understand a character's stories, instead of enriching your knowledge of them? anyways yeah

now abt tingyun. I agree that the funeral was really ???????????? i agree w you and the video lol. playing it, I was mostly in disbelief that we're assuming tingyun is legitimately dead even though she's still playable (no dead playables in genshin moment). I also think the thing with the 3 npcs we had to talk to was bullshit because. like the video said, we could've spent time with tingyun (maybe visiting the npcs we collected things from) BEFORE she died and maybe it would have given us more emotional impact. the way they retroactively show how kind and generous she was really put me off, we could've seen this all in person instead of hearing it from other people...... bruh also the way everyone got together in that cutscene when i dont think any of them were really shown to have a deep connection w her is so ..... >_> the emotional impact did not hit whatsoever

but I'm gonna level with you I think they made her role as our guide pretty clear and the implication that she was traveling with us was also pretty clear. no shade though

about the rest of the video: oh he put things into words that I could not articulate JSDKLFJDSKL. not really any thoughts but i agree that a lot of the characters (qingque, xueyi especially) could have just been cut T_T i like both of their designs and personalities based on other material in game but their main quest participation was Not It rip. also agree about the characters being vehicles for exposition and not having their personalities shine through. I'd argue maybe you can tell somewhat of what they're like (jing yuan, fu xuan, yanqing to some extent) but man there's just too much lore explaining for them to really show what they do on a normal schedule it's so .......... also because fanart and fanfic makes them seem so fun im standing here looking at the main plot like >_> <_< what was that. i'm sure it gets better inside their own companion quests, which I haven't done, but that shouldn't be the only place the character gets to really shine lmao

I agree that their design makes people more willing to invest but god I'm so sorry hsr designs really aren't my thing, the color palettes are just incredibly bad JDKSFLJDSKLGHKDJ the only thing holding up the story are the plot and personalities of chars and neither of those were delivered ...

[biblicalhorror]

Anyway I can't stop thinking about how much more narratively satisfying it would have been if Walter never existed and Misty was the one to kill Kevyn

[neverendingford]

.

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

well, I am officially on to season 2 of "Miss Scarlet and the Duke", and based on the first episode at least, the writing does seem to have improved a bit?? this may be a case of First Episode of the Season Syndrome (added nuance and subtlety to kick the season off but immediately dropping back down to mediocre levels until the finale), but I'm hopeful that many of my complaints about the first season won't be as present going forwards!

but also, oww. the end... that was... yikes. my heart hurts now. 😧

[yo9urt]

does anyone know any rituals i can do to summon a handsome man to my house who will give me a shoulder/upper back massage

[rodeodeparis]

sorry if this isn't that deep but could you clarify what you meant on your last post? i'm just not sure if you're saying these people would've fallen for zionism or if i'm misunderstanding you really badly

that is exactly what i'm saying

[seiwas]

Oof a jealous Katsuki bc of shout 🥰 say less

it’s what my dreams are made of nonie

[jcmarchi]

Researchers surprised at levels of toxicity in standard plastic products - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/researchers-surprised-at-levels-of-toxicity-in-standard-plastic-products-technology-org/

Researchers surprised at levels of toxicity in standard plastic products - Technology Org

Tonnes of waste from standard plastic products have been uncontrollably released into the world’s oceans, where they gradually break down. But how harmful is this plastic to living organisms, and what is it in these plastics that is so damaging?

Research scientist Amaia Igartua at SINTEF Ocean pictured here working with some of the plastic materials investigated as part of the project MicroLEACH. Image credit: Thor Nielsen.

The plastic with which we surround ourselves contains a range of chemical additives that can leach out into water systems in the natural environment. This can happen both before and during the plastic degradation process. Even if it takes a long time for products to break down into microplastic particles, the chemicals start to leach from the plastic as soon as it enters the water.

Researchers have been trying to find out more about whether this phenomenon is harmful to animals, and perhaps also to humans.

“In this project, we’ve been focusing on the impacts on marine organisms of chemical additives in plastics”, says Lisbet Sørensen, who is a research scientist at SINTEF Ocean. “To do this, we’ve been studying a variety of marine species. During the first screening exercise, we examined two groups of microorganisms – bacteria and microalgae, also known as phytoplankton.  These species are easy to work with and provide us with quick answers that we can use to help us map out the future direction of our research”, she says.

“Later, we worked with the eggs and larvae of cod, which is one of our most important natural resources”, says Sørensen. “We’re well aware that fish, just like humans, are more vulnerable to the health effects of pollution when they’re immature”, she explains.

Fifty different everyday products

“It is of course impossible to test every single plastic product available, so we made a ‘qualified selection’ of fifty items that we use in our everyday lives”, says Sørensen.

Among the fifty products were plastic bags, disposable cups, dishwashing gloves, care tyre granules, a variety of children’s toys and balloons. And that was just for starters.

“The initial idea was simply to select ‘classic’ plastic products, but I fell for the temptation to include some items made of rubber”, says Sørensen. “And this proved to be a wise decision”, she says.

What happens when plastic breaks down?

The MicroLEACH project has been carried out by a cross-disciplinary team of international research scientists, including both biologists and chemists. MicroLEACH stands for Microplastics – Long-term Effects of plastics and Additive CHemicals on marine organisms.

Analytical lab work provided the team with a broad overview of the types and amounts of chemicals found in the various products.

“We were very surprised at the number of different chemicals we identified in these products”, says Sørensen. “Only 30 percent of the chemical compounds identified were found in two or more products. There were also a large number of chemicals that we couldn’t identify with certainty because they were not listed in established substance indexes. This told us how little we know about the composition of many of the everyday products that we have around us all the time”, she says.

The aim of the project is purely and simply to investigate how toxic these chemicals are to living organisms once the plastic products find their way into the marine environment. In recent years there has been a major focus on problems related to microplastics.  When plastics are broken down, either physically into fragments or chemically due to environmental factors, they eventually end up as microplastic particles. However, long before this process has been completed, chemical additives in the plastics may leach out into the natural environment.

“It was this issue that we wanted to address in the MicroLEACH project”, says Andy Booth, who is a Chief Research Scientist at SINTEF.  “The question is: how toxic are the chemical additives we find in standard plastic products available on the Norwegian market, and how much of a problem are they compared with the microplastics generated by the products themselves?”, he says.

Booth has been working with marine pollution for many years and has also conducted research into what happens to nanoparticles that enter the marine environment.

Natural rubber is far from harmless

The research team looked into the effect of chemicals that leach from microplastics and rubber particles into the marine environment. 

“What we found is that products that either consist of, or contain, high levels of rubber, had the worst impact on the microorganisms that we investigated in our experiment”, says Booth. “This was a little surprising – not least because untreated rubber is seen as a ‘natural’ product. We found, however, that it was among the substances that was most toxic to the microorganisms we were studying”, he says.

Worst of all were the chemicals that leached from rubber gloves.

“It’s well worth noting that chemicals added to natural rubber and used in dishwashing gloves proved to be the most toxic to the microorganisms”, says Booth.  These are substances that we found in four of the fifty products that we tested – dishwashing gloves, car tyres, rubber balloons and disposable gloves”, he says.

Deformed fish larvae

A further study conducted by the project involved exposing cod embryos and recently hatched larvae to both microplastic particles and the chemicals identified in the plastics. The team also exposed both eggs and larvae to a combination of the two, because, in the real world, they cannot be distinguished from each other.  The team has presented its results in an article and two scientific papers that can be accessed via the online platform ScienceDirect.

Initially, the researchers characterised and extracted the toxic chemicals from the various plastics and investigated their effects on cod larvae.

“What we observed was that some chemicals acted directly to prevent the eggs from hatching, while others exerted major physical effects on the larvae”, says Stefania Piarulli, who is a biologist and research scientist at SINTEF. “We discovered that the larvae developed vertebral deformities that reminded us of what we call scoliosis”, she says.

Research Scientist Stefania Piarulli in her lab at SINTEF Ocean. Piarulli is studying the toxicity of various chemicals that leach from plastic products. Image credit: Thor Nielsen

Which is worse – microplastic or the chemicals?

But what about the microplastic particles? Are they harmful in their physical state, or is it the combination of their size and the chemicals that leach out of them that make them so toxic?

In order to investigate this, the researchers compared the effects of the particles and chemicals separately, and were a little surprised to find that the chemicals were essential to producing the toxic effect.

“The particular feature of this experiment is that we developed an entirely new method of ‘cleaning’ the microplastic of all traces of chemicals”, explains Piarulli. “This is the only way of being able to say anything for certain about the effect of the microplastic particles”, she says.

In other words, the team identified no toxic effects from the physical particles if they did not contain chemicals.

Images of recently hatched cod larvae showing vertebral deformities after exposure to chemicals that have leached from plastic. Image credit: SINTEF

Elastic plastics – in a class of their own

The research team found that not all types of plastic are toxic. It is the combination of different plastic products that determine the level of toxicity, and elastic plastic products proved to be among the worst.

“This means that we now know that it’s possible to reduce toxicity in a number of products simply by selecting alternative polymer combinations during manufacture”, says Andy Booth.

“It’s well worth noting that chemicals added to natural rubber and used in dishwashing gloves proved to be the most toxic to the microorganisms.

What about mammals and humans?

Biologist and researcher Stefania Piarulli is the project team member who has been responsible for experiments involving marine organisms.

– Is there any reason to believe that food animals contain many of these chemicals, such as wild and farmed fish, chicken, pork or beef?

“Both humans and other animals are continuously being exposed to both macro- and microplastics and the chemical additives they contain”, explains Piarulli. “It is thus natural to assume that we are also exposed to plastic-related chemical additives via the food we eat. But we will need more research to find out how much of these chemicals are derived from the meat products, and how much from the packaging”, she says, adding:

“My view is that we are exposed to far more chemicals in connection with food processing and cooking than the plastic packaging. We are also exposed to plastic-related chemical additives in many other ways”,  says Piarulli.

Research team member Lisbet Sørensen adds that fortunately, plastic products used in connection with the storage and consumption of food are the least problematic. It is also the case that all so-called ‘food contact materials’ are governed by a strict set of regulations that stipulate limits on the content of both identified and non-identified chemical additives.

“What is more worrying is that other plastic products that we use every day, including some of those designed for children, did not perform as well as food contact materials in our experiments”, says Sørensen. However, we must also emphasise that in this project, we have not investigated any effects that are directly applicable to humans”, she says.

– As researchers, what advice do you have to offer consumers when it comes to plastics and food?

“Never in history have we been exposed to more pollution than we are today”, says Stefania Piarulli. “This is why we should always be aiming to reduce our use of plastics. We know that plastics have adverse effects, and we also know that there are most probably effects that we have yet to find out about, including direct impacts on terrestrial, fresh- and seawater environments”, she says.

“Plastic is an incredibly beneficial invention, and in many contexts it is essential to our way of life, not least in the fields of medicine and some types of packaging”, says Piarulli “But plastics are also used in many settings where they are entirely unnecessary, such as in the textile sector and in situations of product overpackaging. Perhaps the most important thing to remember is to avoid the use of plastics where possible, and to exert our influence as consumers when we buy new products”, she says.

Source: Sintef

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[flowersforbucky]

love language

snapshots of your relationship with bucky told through the five love languages.

“remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

warnings/tags: smut, oral, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, wound care, brief uses of alcohol, anxiety and self-doubt, language, reader is afab, 18+ only, avenger!reader, fluffier than what i typically write, undercover mission, friends to lovers!!!

word count: 6.6k

Acts of Service

“Exciting Friday night?” Your head snaps up at the masculine voice. You nearly slosh hot tea on both yourself and the pages of the book that lay open in your lap. You're surprised to see him - as far as you were aware, Bucky and Sam were in Munich. You didn't think they were supposed to be back in the country for another two days.

“Something like that,” you answer, regaining your composure as you bring the mug to your lips. “What are you doing back so early? Did recon go okay?”

Bucky lets out a long sigh as he plops down into the recliner, adjacent to where you're curled up on the sofa in the compound’s communal living room. His eyelids look heavier than normal, with dark circles underneath that aren't typically present. You place your cup of tea on the end table next to you and close the book before angling your body towards him, giving him your undivided attention.

“It was a shit-show,” he answers bluntly, voice laced with defeat. “HYDRA had the drop on us from the minute we entered Germany. What was supposed to be us just gathering intel turned into an ambush. One minute, it was just the two of us in an old warehouse, and then the next..” he trails off, eyes locked on one of the buttons of his tactical pants that he’s fidgeting with. “We’re lucky to have made it out. Sam was taken to med-bay as soon as we got back. Broken arm and collarbone, dislocated shoulder, possibly a few fractured ribs..” he lists off the injuries.

“Jesus,” you cringe, a death grip on the book in your hands as you listen to him summarize the mission. “Looks like you came out pretty unscathed in comparison.” You glance him over from head to toe, relieved to see no visible wounds or bruises.

“Yeah, well,” he starts, sitting forward and pulling the collar of his black t-shirt over to expose his right shoulder. Your eyes bulge when you see the obvious knife wound that the fabric had been concealing. “Not completely unscathed.”

“Holy shit, Bucky, why didn’t you go get this stitched up?” You stand up quickly, your book falling forgotten to the floor as you step closer to him to inspect the cut. There’s dried blood covering the surrounding skin of his chest and shoulder, with fresh blood still seeping from the opening of the wound. Even with the luxury of the Quinjet, a direct flight from Germany to New York is at least eight hours, who knows how long the cut had been steadily oozing–

“The bleeding has slacked off for the most part at this point,” he tries to assure you, attempting to cover the wound back up with his shirt. His shirt that, upon closer inspection, is thoroughly soaked through with blood. You all but smack his hand away so that you can continue to inspect the cut.

“It’s too deep,” you shake your head. “It needs stitches.”

“It’ll be fine by morning–” he starts to argue with you, but you’re already walking away from him, exiting the room to retrieve a first-aid kit kept in one of the shared bathrooms just down the hallway. Though you can’t currently see him, you have no doubt that he is shaking his head and rolling his eyes at you.

Before returning to the living room, you stop by the kitchen and grab a cold can of Blue Moon to help take the edge off. Upon reentering the living room, you find that he’s hunched over where he sits in the recliner, leaning forward to grab your book from where it had fallen on the rug.

“What were you reading before I so rudely interrupted you?” The corner of his mouth tugs upwards in a smirk as he inspects the cover of the book.

“The Hunger Games,” you answer simply as you place the first-aid kit on the couch and hold out the beer to him. He accepts the drink, a small, surprised smile appearing on his face.

“Shirt,” you instruct a second later, turning to him with a warm, wet rag that you intend to clean some of the dried blood off with. Surprisingly, he obliges your request, placing both the beer and the book in his lap to pull the bloodied fabric over his head.

“And what exactly is The Hunger Games about?” he asks, looking up at you through his thick lashes before turning his attention back to the book in his lap. He flips it over, skimming the words on the back cover.

“The Hunger Games,” you begin as you delicately swipe the damp washcloth across the dirty skin around his wound, watching as the material turns from white to pink as it collects the old blood. “Are dystopian fiction novels. The books get their title from an annual event in which a boy and a girl, ranging from the ages of twelve to eighteen, from twelve different districts are selected by name-drawing to compete in a fight to the death. Twenty-four go into an arena, one comes out.”

“Sheesh,” Bucky grimaces and pops the tab to the beer. You turn away from him, placing the soiled washcloth on the table next to him before retrieving some disinfectant from the kit. “And what’s the point in having a bunch of children kill each other?”

“Punishment and control,” you shrug, pouring some of the clear liquid on a large gauze pad until it’s soaked. He gives you a vague nod, signaling he’s ready for you to clean the wound. You dab the drenched cotton along the opening of the wound, wincing more visibly than Bucky does himself. “The districts where the children are reaped from have had uprisings against the nation’s Capitol in the past. The games are to punish them, as well as to remind them what power the Capitol holds.”

Bucky’s brows furrow together, contemplating your words. You make the initial incision for his stitches and he lets out a grunt of discomfort. “Sorry,” you mumble, concentrating on the stitchwork.

“So what happens?” He asks after a few moments of silence, obviously trying to distract himself from the needle going in and out of his tender flesh as he sips on the amber colored liquid. “The group of kids rebel and take down the Capitol?”

“You’re not too far off,” you chuckle lightly. “I guess you’ll just have to read them for yourself to find out.”

“I suppose I will,” he says, eyeing your needlework from the corner of his eye. “Will you let me borrow your copies when I finish The Lord of the Rings?”

“You’re reading The Lord of the Rings?” you fail at hiding your tone of surprise, more focused on finishing suturing his cut.

“Don’t act so shocked,” he feigns insult. “I read when I have the free time to do so.” He turns his head towards you for the first time since you began stitching, causing you to realize just how close his face is to your own. You push down the fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach at the close proximity, clearing your throat as you turn to grab a pair of small medical scissors. You clip the thread before backing away from him.

“That should hold you together well enough until your supernatural super-soldier healing abilities take care of it while you sleep.”

He stands from his position in the recliner, holding out your book to you. “Thank you,” he tells you sincerely. “For the stitches, and the beer.”

“Of course,” you say as you take your book back from him. “Don’t want you getting blood all over the compound.”

“I think I’m gonna go check on Sam,” he sighs. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”

“Get some rest!” you demand as he retreats to the hallway.

“Yes ma’am,” he calls without looking back, his Brooklyn drawl making an appearance.

For the rest of the night, you try to focus on your book and not the way you felt when his plush pink lips and cerulean blue eyes were just inches from your face.

Receiving Gifts

One week later

Punctuality has never been your strong-suit, but you didn’t expect to be the very last person to arrive at Bucky’s birthday party - get together, as he insists on calling it, since he feels silly having a birthday party at over one hundred years old. However, as you’re approaching the pavilion at the compound’s lake, you see that all of your friends are already mingling comfortably.

Natasha, Sharon, and Wanda wave at you from where they lounge next to the bonfire, Steve and Sam are engaged in an intense game of beer pong (which Sam seems to be doing impressively well at, considering one arm is still in a cast and sling), Clint and Bruce are playing cornhole - everyone is here, though you don’t see the one person you came for.

You make your way over to a picnic table closer to the lake that has been dedicated to presents so that you can add yours to the pile. You had ordered the gift a week ago, the same night that you had stitched up Bucky’s shoulder wound, and it arrived just in time - in today's mail, only an hour ago.

Hence the reason you are the last to arrive with a shittily-wrapped present in hand.

“Is that Avengers wrapping paper?” You whirl around at the amused voice to see Bucky walking towards you.

“That it is,” you confirm. “You and I aren't featured, though. Just the OGs,” you shrug, staring down at the cartoon depictions of Steve and the others.

“I was starting to wonder if you weren't going to come.” He says lightheartedly, nodding in the direction of everyone else.

“Your present didn't get delivered until the last minute,” you explain, giving the box-shaped object in your hand a shake. “Didn't want to show up empty handed.”

“You didn't have to get me a gift at all,” he says reassuringly, but eyes the present curiously. “But since you almost missed my party over it, I should open it right away.” He holds his hands out expectantly, almost childlike.

You roll your eyes, handing over the poorly packaged present. You had never been the best at gift-wrapping, usually preferring to reuse bags.

“I did not almost miss your party. It's just now eight o'clock,” you defend yourself, staring at the sun that's just starting to set over the lake's horizon, painting the New York sky in hues of orange and purple.

He smirks, walking past you to place the present on the table. You watch as he rips the wrapping paper away unceremoniously, until the gift is revealed.

“I know you had asked to borrow my copies,” you begin, suddenly feeling nervous as you watch him look over the box set of the first edition of The Hunger Games trilogy. “But my copies are old, and tattered, and have been annotated to shit, so.. I thought maybe you'd like your own,” you shrug nonchalantly.

He studies the box, pulling out the first book and glancing it over with a look you can't quite decipher. There's a faint hint of rose on his cheeks, and the lines around his eyes crinkle when he turns his head to look at you.

“Thank you,” he says with a soft, earnest smile. “This is incredibly thoughtful of you. I'm going to start reading them–”

“This pizza is getting cold!” You hear Sam's voice bellow from under the pavilion a few yards away. “I'm about to dig in with or without the birthday boy.”

You exhale through your nose, a half laugh, half sigh and look at Bucky expectantly. “Pretty sure you're the only birthday boy here.”

“I guess that's my cue,” he sighs as he places the books with the rest of his unopened gifts. “Thanks again, really. It's my favorite gift,” he adds with a sly grin as he begins to walk towards Sam and the table of pizza boxes.

“You haven't even opened the others yet,” you point out, following in his steps.

“Don’t need to open any of the others to know that yours is my favorite.”

Words of Affirmation

Two weeks later

Overstimulated. That's the best word to describe the way you're currently feeling.

Nervous, uncomfortable, irritable, a little hungry, even - any of those words would suffice, too. But with the way the velvet fabric of your dress hugs your hips too tightly, the way that the conversation of the drunk party guests roars in your ears, and the way that the heels of your feet already burn in your platform wedges so early in the evening, you think overstimulated sums up your current state the best.

You fidget with the extravagant ring that adorns your left ring finger, twisting it back and forth and rubbing the pad of your right thumb across the oval-shaped stone.

You aren't even supposed to be here, your brain keeps reminding you. It was supposed to be Natasha. Natasha, who has a boatload of undercover operations experience. But then she had to come down with the flu. Natasha, who never gets sick with anything more than a head cold, bedridden with the flu the day before a highly anticipated undercover mission that you are now taking her place in.

It's not that you hadn't been part of an undercover operation before - you had. You just hadn't been part of any undercover operation that required you to pose as someone's wife before.

Definitely not Bucky's wife.

The two of you had just arrived at the party no more than thirty minutes ago and you had spent the entirety of that time thinking that you wouldn't be able to make this believable; that everyone would see how anxious and awkward you feel and just know - just know that you weren't meant to be here and that it's abundantly clear that you and Bucky aren't actually together.

“Ivanov just arrived,” Bucky's voice murmurs next to your ear as he walks up behind you, snapping you out of your self-doubt induced trance. His left hand, disguised using nano-tech to look like a human, flesh hand, comes to rest against the small of your back and his right hand extends the drink that he retrieved for you from the bar.

“How'd you know I like lemon drops?” You ask, instantly recognizing the pale yellow liquid in the martini glass.

“I'm your husband. It's part of my job to know your go-to cocktail,” he smirks, looking at you in a way that almost makes you believe his words. “Besides, I'd know your drink of choice anyway. You always order a lemon drop.”

You clear your throat, breaking his stare by checking out the fellow attendees and event staff filtering through the ballroom. You slowly sip the sour liquid, trying to focus on the burn of the vodka and not the heat radiating across the skin of your back from him simply resting his fingers against the material of your dress.

“So where's Ivanov?” you break the tension. The illegal arms dealer that you'd been assigned to spy on was nowhere to be seen.

“He should be showing his face any minute now,” Bucky answers, a hint of displeasure in his voice. “I overheard some men at the bar saying he had just arrived in a three million dollar Bugatti with his twenty year old girlfriend.” You visibly cringe at the numbers. Ivanov had to be approaching senior citizen status at this point.

“Can't say that I'd expect anything else from him,” you sigh, attempting to wipe the disgust from your features. “What’s our game plan from here? Hover close by him and listen in on conversations–”

“Dance with me,” Bucky interrupts, his eyes locked on something on the opposite side of the room. You follow his gaze, realizing that Ivanov has entered with his exceptionally youthful girlfriend on his arm. Bucky extends his own arm to you, which you accept after tossing back the last sip of your drink and setting the empty glass on a table behind you.

He guides you to the center of the dance floor where several other couples are swaying to classical piano music. Ivanov mingles with a small group of questionable looking men just a few feet behind you, where Bucky is able to keep an eye on him.

He places one hand on your waist, using the other to hold one of yours in his own as he begins to slowly sway both of you to the rhythm of the music. Your free hand rests on the back of his neck, where you nervously twirl a tuft of his hair between your perfectly manicured fingers (you tried not to take too much offense to Sharon rushing you to the first salon she could find yesterday to help you look the part).

Bucky huffs a low laugh before using his grip on your hip to tug you closer to him, closing an awkward amount of space that separates your chest from his.

“If we want this to be believable, you’re gonna have to act like you kind of like me,” he murmurs lowly so that no one near you overhears. His face is just inches from yours - the scent of sandalwood from his aftershave and spearmint from his mouthwash is dizzying. Add in the fact that the lemon drop you had just quickly downed was heavy on the vodka, it’s a miracle that you’re still standing upright in these ridiculous heels that Sharon had picked out for you.

“I do like you,” you huff, your cheeks warming. “Not liking you isn’t the problem.” His gaze shifts away from where Ivanov stands a few yards behind you and down to your face.

“What is the problem then?”

You stare at his hand that holds yours, your eyes fixated on the brilliant diamond of your faux wedding ring. “For starters, I don’t really know how to slow dance,” you half-mumble. As if on cue, your left ankle shifts ever so slightly in your shoe, causing you to wobble. Bucky tightens his grasp on both your waist and hand to help steady you. He cackles - loudly enough for an old lady walking by to give him a side-eye.

“I think it’s pretty unlikely that our cover gets blown because you’re a little unsteady,” he whispers reassuringly. It does little to ease the lump of anxiety that has settled in your gut.

“It’s not just my lack of dancing experience,” you retort. “It’s all of this. I’m a bit out of my element here and I can’t help but feel like Natasha would have been able to do a much better–”

“Hey, hey,” he soothes, beginning to massage his thumb over the skin of your hand in languid, circular motions. You can’t decide if it’s the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins or if it’s just the fact that it’s him, but it feels as though there’s a continuous trail of hot sparks everywhere his skin touches yours. “You've got this. If anyone’s got this, it's you. You've handled missions far more daunting than this with ease, right?”

You finally shift your eyes to meet his gaze. His deep blue eyes bore into yours with utmost sincerity. You give him a small nod of agreement and a tight-lipped, uncertain smile.

He leans in closer so that his mouth hovers just next to your ear, his warm breath raising goosebumps down the expanse of your neck and shoulders.

“And remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

The slow, gentle swaying motions you'd been forcing your body to perform come to a sudden halt. You look at Bucky as if he's grown a second head. He’s looking at you with a shit-eating grin spread from ear to ear.

“Did you just quote Peeta Mellark?”

“I finished up the first book yesterday,” he shrugs as if his words hadn't just made your heart skip several beats. “Now let's get this job over with so we can go discuss the book in detail over some greasy diner food, yeah?”

Quality Time

The mere thought of getting the fuck out of that giant estate and away from Ivanov and the other countless skeevy party-goers to gorge on greasy diner food was more than enough motivation to get you through the duration of the mission.

Of course, it helped that Ivanov is a lightweight drunk with no concept of volume control. After a couple drinks, he handed the location of his next illegal arms deal to you and Bucky on a silver platter - without ever even noticing the two of you dancing just feet away from him.

“I'm sending the audio recording over to you right now,” Bucky says as he types on his cell phone. The two of you are currently in a drugstore parking lot half an hour away from the estate, sitting in the Audi SUV that you'd been given for this evening’s mission.

“Got it,” Sam’s voice booms through the car’s Bluetooth speakers a second later. “You guys did great back there. Go ahead and get back to the compound for debriefing.”

Your eyes flash to the time on the vehicle's touchscreen display - 10:06 pm. You can feel your stomach churning from hunger and your skin itching to get out of the restrictive velvet fabric, the last thing you wanted to do at this hour was go to a fucking debriefing.

“About that..” Bucky starts, noticing your disappointed expression and tense posture. “Debriefing is going to have to wait until the morning.”

“We should really get any details while they are still fresh–”

“What’s that? Sam? Sorry, you're breaking up, can't understand what you're–”

Bucky's flesh finger touches a button on the digital display screen and the call disconnects before he finishes his sentence.

“You know he's going to call back any second, right?” You ask after a moment of loaded silence. Bucky says nothing at first. You watch as he powers off his phone, and then grabs yours from its location in the center cup holder and powers it off, as well.

“I fully anticipate him trying,” he answers as he puts the car in reverse and peels out of the nearly vacant parking lot. “But I promised you a potentially gut-rotting meal, and I'm going to keep that promise.”

Half an hour later, you and Bucky sit opposite each other in a cozy, corner booth of the only open diner in a five mile radius. It's half diner, half arcade, and the two of you are some of the only people here save for the teenage couple making out next to the jukebox in the gaming area. You both look out of place - him in his black satin suit and you in your burgundy colored dress with the thigh-slit, but you're too relieved to be eating to care.

He's already scarfed down a fried chicken sandwich and is rapidly making his way through a pile of mozzarella sticks. You're eating a fat stack of blueberry pancakes and the best loaded hash browns that you think you've ever had.

Breakfast foods hit different at eleven o'clock at night.

“I'm just saying, Katniss is kind of oblivious,” Bucky shrugs with a mouthful of fried cheese. “It's obvious that Peeta was never just pretending to be in love with her.”

“That's a big assumption coming from someone who hasn't even started the second book yet,” you say as you fork a bite of pancake into your mouth.

He throws his hands up in mock defense, covering his now empty plate up with a dirty napkin.

“You're not wrong though,” you admit. “She did miss a lot of signs, and she's not always the most reliable narrator.”

He responds with a small hum as he watches you finish your pancakes with a soft smile that shows his laugh lines and the dimple of his left cheek.

His smile turns to something more curious as the young couple who had been making out in the arcade room earlier dashes past your booth and out the back door of the restaurant.

“What is it?” You ask, pushing your empty plate towards the center of the table.

“The game room is free now,” he states, as if it's obvious. “Now I can kick your ass in air hockey.”

And kick your ass in air hockey he does. And skee ball, and Dance Dance revolution.

“Please don't tell Natasha that you beat me at Dance Dance Revolution,” you beg him as you pick up your high heels that you had discarded for the game. “She'll never let me live that one down. In fact, if anyone asks, it was a dead tie for all of these games.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” he chuckles, approaching the pool table in the center of the room and leaning against the edge. “As long as you win this game of pool.”

“No, nope, absolutely not,” you freeze where you're standing, crossing your arms over your chest. “If I couldn't beat you at air hockey then I don't stand a chance of beating you at pool.”

He ignores you, instead turning to choose two cue sticks from the selection on the back wall. He tosses one to you from several feet away, which you instinctively drop your shoes to the floor to catch.

“I haven't even tried to play pool since I was maybe ten years old,” you whine.

“Why were you trying to play pool at ten years old?” he chuckles, gathering up all of the balls and placing them inside the triangular rack in the center of the table.

“It was at a birthday party,” you admit. “I pretended to know what I was doing to impress a boy that I had a crush on.”

“And how did that go for you?” He removes the triangle-shaped container from around the balls and begins to line up his shot.

“Well, I haven't tried to play pool since then,” you begin, taking a seat on the edge of the table and turning your head to watch him. He pulls the cue stick back and quickly stabs it forward, breaking the balls apart and sending them rolling in various directions across the felt table. “And Kyle from my fourth grade class thought that I had cooties, so, you tell me how you think that went for me.”

“Sounds like it was Kyle's loss.” You watch as he walks to one of the table's pockets to look inside. “I've got stripes,” he states, looking at you with an expectant smile.

You exhale a dramatic sigh, hopping off the edge of the table and turning around to position your stick in front of the cue ball.

“Fine,” you relent, looking up at him from where you're leaning over across the table. “But you're not allowed to laugh at me when you realize I wasn't lying about having no experience at this.”

“Scout's honor,” he swears and you can tell by his smile and reddened cheeks that he’s already trying to contain his laughter.

Feeling extra nervous due to the way you can physically feel him watching you, you take an embarrassing amount of time working up the courage to propel the tip of the cue stick towards a solid purple colored ball.

It travels a foot or so across the green felt material of the table and comes to a stop just inches away from a corner pocket.

“Damn it,” you sigh under your breath.

“That wasn't too bad, actually,” he says, not even trying to conceal his tone of surprise as he walks over to where you're standing. “You just need to change your stance a little and hit the ball a bit harder.”

“So, do basically everything differently, then?”

“I can help you, if you want,” he offers with a smug grin.

“Hm,” you bite your lip as you pretend to contemplate the proposition. “Okay,” you accept with a shrug. “But this better not be an attempt to pull a cliche “pretend to help her with pool as an excuse to make a move” kind of move.” You're fully joking - you know Bucky well enough to know he wouldn't make such a corny, obvious move with anyone - and you definitely wouldn't expect him to do so with you.

But you don't miss the way his expression darkens ever so slightly and his eyes sweep up your figure before moving to stand behind you, propping his own cue stick up against the table.

The front of your thighs brush up against the edge of the table and Bucky’s arms enclose you on either side - his hands coming to rest next to each of your legs on the table's edge, as close as they can be to you without actually touching.

Your breath hitches in your throat when the silky material of his suit brushes against your bare shoulders, the sensation causing you to go deadly still as you await his next move.

“With how fast your heart is beating right now, I don't think I would have to do something as cheesy as that to make a move.” He murmurs, his mouth close enough to the exposed skin of your neck that you can feel the heat of his breath. It's an automatic response, the way your head tilts back into his touch. You start to pull away, start to feel embarrassed, start to tell him just how wrong he is, when he brings a flesh finger to the ball of your shoulder and trails his index finger down the skin of your arm, eliciting a surge of goosebumps in its wake.

This physical reaction doesn't go unnoticed by him, either. He hums a small laugh, inching closer to you so that his body presses against your ass.

“In fact,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “I think that if I wanted to, I could have you bent over this table for me without having to resort to anything like that.”

If his chest wasn't pinning you between him and the pool table, you probably would have fallen over. The air in the arcade feels a sudden ten degrees warmer and you swear you can hear your blood pumping in your ears - things that unfortunately can't be blamed on the effects of the martini that had dissipated from your system hours ago.

No, it's all him. His closeness, his warmth, his voice, his scent. Just him.

“If you wanted to, yeah?” You question, your voice an octave higher than you ideally would have liked. “That makes it sound like you don't want to. But the bulge I'm feeling from your pants makes it seem like you do want to. Kinda sending me mixed signals here.” You rut back against him for good measure.

He hisses next to your ear, his hands snapping to your hips, effectively stilling you beneath him. His fingers dig into the flesh around your hip bones, the pressure somewhere perfectly between uncomfortable and pleasurable.

“Here? Bent over this table?” he tuts, his lips grazing the skin next to the shoulder strap of your dress. “Where a couple of unsuspecting teenagers could walk in for a game of skee ball at any second?” He lets out a low laugh, the sound vibrating against your back.

“No, I don't think so,” he continues. “Not when we've got a brand new Audi with a spacious backseat and highly tinted windows just outside this building.”

Physical Touch

If someone had asked you six hours ago if you thought there was a chance you would be ending this night by having sex with Bucky Barnes, you would have said no.

But if someone had asked you if you thought there was a chance you would be having sex with Bucky Barnes in the backseat of a car in a diner-arcade combo parking lot, you would have said fuck no.

You would have been wrong on both accounts. And with the way that he's nipping and sucking up the insides of your thighs, you're pretty fucking okay with that.

Your dress is bunched up around your waist, your panties discarded on the floor of the car. You're laying as comfortably as you can across the backseat with Bucky nestled snuggly between your legs. It's a tight fit, and the stagnant air inside the Audi is balmy, but you'll be damned if you interrupt this to turn the AC on. The only light inside the vehicle is from the glow of the full moon that illuminates the sky, and the giant neon green diner sign a few yards away from where you're parked.

He's not wasting any time - it's well past midnight at this point and considering the fact that Bucky turned your cell phones off hours ago, you're surprised that Sam hasn't traced the location of the vehicle and sent search and rescue already.

As soon as his mouth makes contact with your center, you’re lacing your fingers through his short, soft locks and tugging on them. You grind your pussy against his face, meeting his fervent motions with your own. He locks his lips around your clit before pulling away with an obscene, wet pop that echoes through the cab of the car.

He reaches one hand up to your shoulders while keeping his lips on you, quickly tugging down the spaghetti straps of your dress and then pawing at the fabric covering your chest to free your tits.

At the same time that he plunges his tongue inside you, he rolls a nipple between two of his cool, metal digits, yearning a sharp yelp from you. He releases his grip and then palms your breast in his hand, continuing to work your folds with his lips and tongue.

You don't know if it's the fact that it's been a ridiculous amount of time since you so much as kissed someone or the fact that Bucky eats pussy like he's starving, but you're approaching your climax insanely fast.

You clench your thighs around his ears and push your hips upwards, the friction building that warm tension in your lower belly that comes spilling over when he lets out a guttural moan across your core.

You cum against his face, feeling your juices drip down the insides of your thighs - there's a pesky voice in the back of your head telling you that you're going to have to pay to have this car detailed before giving it back.

He sits up, his back resting against the middle of the leather seat. He unbuttons and unzips his suit pants, raising off the seat just enough to tug them down to mid-thigh along with his boxers. You're still coming down from your orgasm when he's pulling you up from the seat and into a sitting position.

You tuck your legs underneath you so that you're propped up on your knees on the seat directly next to him. Bucky pumps himself in his hand as you lean over, gathering all of the saliva in your mouth and letting it slide between your lips and over the head of his cock.

You push his hand away to replace it with your own, using your spit as lubrication as you stroke him up and down. He throws his head back against the headrest, looking up at the roof of the car as he brings his hand around the curve of your ass, flesh hand finding your pussy that's still throbbing from how hard he had made you cum.

You can feel the smooth band of the engagement ring that you'd been wearing all evening repeatedly caress a large vein on the side of his dick - you remove your hand from him, causing him to snap his head back down to look at you. You bring your other hand to remove the ring from your finger, planning to tuck it into a cup holder for safekeeping while you use your hands on him.

“Leave it on,” he breaks the thick silence when he realizes what you're doing. “Want you to keep wearing it.”

You push the ring back down on your finger, his command sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core. You're extending your hand back to his cock when he cuts you off, pulling you to him and across his lap.

You straddle him, his erection locked between your pussy lips and his lower belly. You move forwards, and then backwards - earning another deep groan from him as you coat the underbelly of his cock in your juices. You grind up and down against him several times, until you're feeling impossibly empty and can't take the feeling of not having him inside you any longer.

You lift yourself up on the balls of your feet, high enough for him to guide himself to your entrance. He teases your hole with his head - or at least tries to, before you're sinking yourself down onto his length. You go still for a moment when he's fully inside you, giving you both time to adjust to the new, overwhelming sensation of each other.

You begin to ride him, slowly at first - he stretches you blissfully sweet and soon you're picking up the pace, your ass bouncing off of his thighs with each comedown.

He places a hand on the back of your neck, pulling your face down to his in a sloppy, searing kiss. It hits you that he's inside you raw right now, and you're just now kissing. You taste yourself on him, warm and salty sweet. He sweeps his tongue along your bottom lip and you open up for him, letting him explore your mouth from the perfect angle that he's at beneath you.

He continues to kiss you but removes his hand from the back of your neck, moving both of them to cup your ass. He begins to meet your movements with his own, thrusting himself upwards so that his cock is ramming into that sweet spot of your cervix and sending you towards a second climax.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” you moan into his mouth, breaking the kiss for air. Your encouragement spurs him on, increasing the speed of his thrusts. Your legs turn to jelly beneath you, but he's got you - he holds you up by your ass cheeks and leans forward to take one of your nipples in his warm mouth.

It's enough to send you over the edge again. Your orgasm builds, heat exploding through your abdomen as his movements grow erratic and he spills into you from below.

He stills beneath you when you're both spent, your chest heaving against his. You make no effort to remove yourself from him, and he seems more than happy to keep you right where you are - his arms locking around your waist and pulling you close to him.

“I guess now would be as good of a time as any to ask you if you'd like to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Go on a date with you sometime?” You lean back, looking down with him with the limited amount of moonlight and neon lighting that breaks through the tinted windows. “We dressed up real nice, slow danced, spied on a bad guy, ate greasy diner food, played arcade games, and you're inside me as we speak. I think it's safe to say we're currently on a date.”

He snorts, breaking into laughter beneath you. “A second date, then,” he concedes. “I would love to take you on a second date.”

♡♡♡♡♡

thank you for reading!!! kind of nervous to put this one out there tbh, i've been working on it off and on for weeks but i love how it turned out and i hope you all do too. as always comments and reblogs are very appreciated 💕

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