#google cloud function

[codeonedigest]

Serverless Architecture & Deployment Design Pattern for Microservices wi... Full Video Link      https://youtu.be/b9Gpt4OOlgoHello friends, new #video on #serverless #deployment   #designpattern for #microservices #tutorial for #developer #programmers with #examples are published on #codeonedigest #youtube channel.  @java #java #aws #awscloud @awscloud @AWSCloudIndia #salesforce #Cloud #CloudComputing @YouTube #youtube #azure #msazure #codeonedigest @codeonedigest   #microservices    #microservices #cloud #serverless #whataremicroservices #microservicestutorial #microservicesarchitecture #serverlessmicroservices #serverlessframeworksetup #serverlessdeployment #serverlessdeploymentaws #serverlessdeploymentbucket #serverlessdeploymentazure #serverlessdeploymentplatform #serverlessdeployfunction #serverlessdesignpattern #serverlessarchitecture #serverlesscomputing #serverlessmicroservicesexplained #serverlessmicroservicesexample #design 

[maucariapacom]

Cloud Functions gen-2 tawarkan lebih banyak peristiwa, komputasi, dan kontrol

Selama lebih dari tujuh tahun, Functions-as-a-Service telah merevolusi cara pengembang membangun solusi cloud yang fleksibel dan responsif. Continue reading Cloud Functions gen-2 tawarkan lebih banyak peristiwa, komputasi, dan kontrol

[mariasont]

HEAR ME OUT!

post prison Spencer and shy!reader bonding over being total nerds. Books, shows... you name it

Bookstore Physics - S.R

summary: spencer suggests you should compare moral biases more often. you think he's making a philosophical point. he thinks he just asked you on a date

pairings: post!prison spencer reid x shy!medialiaison!reader

warnings: fluff, second hand embarrassment im sure, philosophical debates that are probably wrong bc i had to google and i know hardly knowing about mr kant, existential crisis but make it romantic, post prison reid, shy reader, prolonged eye contact

wc: 1.6k

a/n: thanks for requesting my lovely! happy superbowl to those who celebrate! go birds!

You were so close. Just one more inch, and your fingertips would finally graze the spine of the book that had been taunting you from its impossibly high perch. 

Rising to your tiptoes, you reached with all the reckless confidence of someone who had severely underestimated basic physics. The shelf wobbled under your grip, your shoes squeaking against the polished floor, and in that split second, you were faced with a terrifying possibility that you were about to take out the entire bookshelf, along with your dignity.

Something grabbed ahold of you, steadying you before you could faceplant directly into a pile of literary fiction. 

You went completely rigid. Because that wasn't just something. That was a Spencer Reid hand, long fingers, warm palm, and a freakishly strong grip for a man who treated physical exertion like a concept rather than a practice.

"Oh. Hi, Dr. Reid," you blurted, the words tumbling out clumsy and unpolished, as if your tongue had forgotten how to function. You winced instantly. "What are you doing here?"

Spencer didn't answer right away. His grip on your arm slackened, but he didn't step away, didn't even give you an inch of space, like he had no intention of letting you breathe properly.

Oh, that's fine. Air is overrated anyway.

"What am I doing here?" he repeated as if he were genuinely considering the question, but you knew better.

His expression hovered somewhere between pity and uncontained glee, the corners of his mouth twitching. 

Your lips parted, but your mind refused to cooperate, stuck on an endless loop of oh my god, did you actually just say that?

To Spencer Reid. The same Spencer who had, on multiple occasions, resorted to scribbling entire paragraphs on the back of receipts and once, when truly desperate, his own wrist. Spencer, who physically flinched at the sound of a cracked spine and once spent seventeen uninterrupted minutes explaining the significance of marginalia. Spencer who read like breathing and talked about prose like it was something alive.

And you, a person allegedly with working cognitive abilities, had just asked him what he was doing in a bookstore.

You opened your mouth, whether to correct yourself or just inhale enough oxygen to function again, you weren't sure, but before you could, Spencer, with precisely zero struggle, reached up and plucked the book from the shelf like it had been placed there specifically for him. 

"You should've asked for help," he murmured, and oh, that was definitely amusement in his voice.

"I-I had it under control."

One brow arched, unimpressed.

"Sure you did," he mused, lips twitching like they couldn’t quite decide whether to commit to a smirk. "Although, considering that 20% of bookstore-related injuries stem from ill-advised attempts at reaching high shelves, you were probably just one statistic away from a minor concussion."

You narrowed your eyes. "That's not — there's no way that's a real statistic."

Spencer barely reacted, flipping open the book with the same casual disinterest of someone checking the sky for clouds, except this wasn't a change in barometric pressure, and you were positive your entire nervous system had just gone into meltdown mode.

Your face burned, heat creeping up your spine and flooding through you veins at an alarming speed, and — oh, no — you had officially run out of places to look that weren't him.

And he (unfortunately) made such an easy focal point.

His shirt was rumpled like he'd spent the whole day forgetting to sit properly and a barely-there ink smudge kissed the edge of his palm, the kind only noticeable if you were close. His hair was at war with itself, some strands curling forward rebelliously against the collar of his cardigan, others falling forward, brushing the edge of his cheek.

He didn't glance up as he murmured, "Philosophy?"

The words barely had time to settle before your brain supplied an immediate translation: he was about to analyze you.

You could practically hear the gears turning, the internal mechanisms of his brain whirring at a speed that actually did defy physics. If you concentrated hard enough, you might've been able to hear the faint whir of neurons firing, piecing together a framework of analysis that was surely seconds away from being spoken into existence. He was surely already forming a hypothesis, already constructing some impossibly insightful revelation about what this particular title said about you, your worldview, your subconscious motivations.

"Well, yeah, that one," you said quickly, the words tripping over each other. “I mean, it’s not real philosophy — well, obviously, it is, but not in the way you would define foundational philosophy, but it still presents some really interesting moral dilemmas, and the writing is surprisingly digestible considering the subject matter is so —”

You clamped your mouth shut so fast it was a wonder your teeth didn’t rattle.

What were you even saying?

"Um — yeah. Philosophy. Or... something like that."

Spencer's lips twitched, and then, in a move so profoundly unsettling, he smiled.

Not just any smile, either. A real one. The kind that didn't just curve his mouth but softened him entirely, the corners tugging upward, a barely there dimple surfacing at his cheek. 

It hit you like a perfectly aimed dart —sharp, direct, and entirely crushing. Something fluttered wildly in your chest, light enough to feel stupid, but heavy enough to be a problem.

Then, still smiling, he tilted his head, leaning in just enough to invade your space, his voice dipping like he was handing you something fragile.

"I didn't take you for the existentialist type."

Your first instinct is to argue, to insist that you're far too well-rounded, too multifaceted, too impossible to be pinned down by a single school of thought. But before you can even begin to string words together, Spencer tilts his head just a little more, his eyes sweeping over you in a way that feels dangerously close to that same expression of analyzing once again.

And suddenly, you need to redirect this conversation, desperately, urgently, before your body betrays you, before you start visibly sweating or keel over like a fainting goat. Neither feels like an optimal outcome.

"I — I mean... I could say the same about you."

His lips quirk. "Interesting. And why's that?"

"I don't know. I always assumed you'd be more of a rationalist? Like, Descartes' methodical doubt feels like something you'd respect, and even Kant's categorical imperative, although that's more deontological ethics than strict rationalism, kind of aligns with the way you view morality and decision-making, and —"

You stop. Blink.

Oh no. You’re heavily invested in this man’s philosophical alignment.

You purse your lips, clearing your throat like that’ll erase the absurd level of thought you’ve just admitted to having.

"I mean, I'm probably way off."

Spencer flips the book closed, considering.

"I supposed you could argue I lean toward rationalism," he allows. "But morality is messy. Kant insists on universal law, and let's be real, most people abandon objectivity the second emotions get involved."

He glances at you then, a shift so small it shouldn't feel significant, but somehow, it does.

“For instance, we all make exceptions. We justify things we probably shouldn’t. Sometimes we prioritize people in ways that defy reason.”

His lips twitch. 

"Hypothetically speaking, of course."

“Well, yeah,” you say, caught up in the current of the conversation before you even realize you’ve been swept away. “People make emotional calculations constantly. Even when they claim objectivity, their decisions are shaped by personal attachments.”

The thought unspools too easily, words tumbling forward, carried by momentum.

“And it’s not just morality, it’s cognition in general. Have you read Jonathan Haidt’s work on moral intuitionism? He argues that people make moral judgments first based on instinct, and then rationalize them after the fact.”

You glance up, expecting a rapid-fire counterargument, some impossibly well-structured debate. But Spencer is just watching you.

"So what about you?" he asks suddenly. "Would you say you make exceptions?"

You pause.

"I mean… yeah? I guess I do. Everyone does, right? If someone I care about does something morally questionable, I’d probably be more inclined to defend them than if it were a stranger. I mean, that’s just human nature."

Then shrug. 

"But that doesn’t mean I’m being hypocritical," you add quickly, as if you just realized how that sounded. "I think there’s a difference between conscious favoritism and subconscious moral bias. It’s not like I have a specific person I’d automatically justify no matter what."

Spencer exhales. "I think you're more consistent than you realize."

You blink at him. "What do you mean?"

He shrugs, lifting the book in his hands, fingers drumming idly against the cover. “You try so hard to rationalize your emotions. But I think, if it came down to it, you’d make an exception for someone. Just one.”

Your stomach knots, and it's humiliating how obvious you must be. You can feel your pulse everywhere, in your throat, your wrists, your temples, like your entire body is broadcasting, Hey, Spencer Reid is making you malfunction because he somehow sees right through you, somebody send help.

“I — well, I mean —”

“Relax, it’s just a theory.”

But something about the way he says it makes you not relax at all. And before you can scramble for some kind of coherent response, he nods toward your book.

“You should get that one,” he says lightly, handing you back the book. “I’d love to hear your take on it next time.”

You freeze. Next time?

Oh. Oh no. The words settle over you like an ill-timed realization, and your brain is running the math like you're about to file a report on your own social incompetence. Next time implies... a prior time, a recurring time, a pattern of times. Next time implies he assumes there will be a next time. 

And you assume that he assumes that you are the kind of person who could logically expect another bookstore trip with Spencer Reid as if that's just a thing that happens in your life. Which is absurd.

Your fingers tighten around the book, like holding onto an overpriced paperback will somehow restore balance to your rapidly deteriorating world. Your pulse is a problem and your ability to think critically is a casualty. 

You scramble for something, anything, to say, but before your brain can reboot, Spencer is already moving. 

Then just as he disappears into the next aisle, he tosses one final parting shot of his shoulder —

"See you soon, then."

taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[copperbadge]

I have a lot of feelings about the use of AI in Everything These Days, but they're not particularly strong feelings, like I've got other shit going on. That said, when I use a desktop computer, every single file I use in Google Drive now has a constant irritating popup on the right-hand side asking me how Gemini AI Can Help Me. You can't, Gemini. You are in the way. I'm not even mad there's an AI there, I'm mad there's a constantly recurring popup taking up space and attention on my screen.

Here's the problem, however: even Gemini doesn't know how to disable Gemini. I did my own research and then finally, with a deep appreciation of the irony of this, I asked it how to turn it off. It said in any google drive file go to Help > Gemini and there will be an option to turn it off. Guess what isn't a menu item under Help?

I've had a look around at web tutorials for removing or blocking it, but they are either out of date or for the Gemini personal assistant, which I already don't have, and thus cannot turn off. Gemini for Drive is an integrated "service" within Google Drive, which I guess means I'm going to have to look into moving off Google Drive.

So, does anyone have references for a service as seamless and accessible as Google Drive? I need document, spreadsheet, slideshow, and storage, but I don't have any fancy widgets installed or anything. I do technically own Microsoft Office so I suppose I could use that but I've never found its cloud function to actually, uh, function. I could use OneNote for documents if things get desperate but OneNote is very limited overall. I want to be able to open and edit files, including on an Android phone, and I'd prefer if I didn't have to receive a security code in my text messages every time I log in. I also will likely need to be able to give non-users access, but I suppose I could kludge that in Drive as long as I only have to deal with it short-term.

Any thoughts, friends? If I find a good functional replacement I'm happy to post about it once I've tested it.

Also, saying this because I love you guys but if I don't spell it out I will get a bunch of comments about it: If you yourself have managed to banish Gemini from your Drive account including from popping up in individual files, I'm interested! Please share. If you have not actually implemented a solution yourself, rest assured, anything you find I have already tried and it does not work.

[hydrangeachainsaw]

Kawaii Gamer 🌸🎮

♡ Switch case | Manga bookshelf | Controllers: Early Access ♡ ♡ Gamecube | Heart Mic: Free ♡ ♡ Cloud wrist rest | Kawaii ring lights: Patron's Gift ♡

+10 items

BGC

functional

Kawaii Neko Gaming Station ≽^•⩊•^≼

TS3 & TS4

7 items: gaming station + gamer chairs + desktop + tv + keyboard and mouse

functional!

BGC

Mostly low/medium polycount (below 10k polycount)

Meshes and textures by me, some patterns for textures found on pinterest/google.

download on patreon ♡ (early access)

♡ Socials: Instagram | Pinterest ♡ ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

[ratbastardz]

BLOCKY 90s COMPUTER – NPT / ID PACK — ★

System names: The Error Codes, The Windows, The Personal Computer, The Hard Drive, The Glitches, The Cursor Collective, Screen Death, Core Dump, Fatal System Error, Hardware Reset, The Computer Collective, The Dialup System, The Internet, Collective Digitality

Names: Cirrus, Colossus, Sia, Athena, Raven, Ditz, Crash, Syntax, Static, Glitch, Error, Digital, Digi, Pixel, Exe, Megabyte, Terabyte, Gigabyte, Byte, PC, Com, Cube, Cubic, Cubix, Internet, Net, Data, Cyber, Google, Alexa, Siri, Linux, Mac, Apple, Cloud

Pronouns: they/them, it/its, zero/zeros, one/ones, 0101/1010s, voi/void, glitch/glitchs, error/errors, block/blocks, bluescreen/bluescreens, byte/bytes, tech/techs, windows/windows, 365/365s, PC/PCs, mouse/mouses, computer/computers, data/datas, tech/techs, tech/technical, internet/internet, net/nets, web/webs, disc/discs, .exe/.exes, exe/exes, 404/404s, ctrl/ctrl, shift/shifts, alt/alts, del/dels, caplock/caplocks, .com/.coms, .org/.orgs, .net/.nets, hack/hacks, HTML/HTMLs, JPEG/JPEGs, PNG/PNGs, ZIP/ZIPs, key/keys, hardware/hardwares, software/softwares, RAM/RAMs, 🌐/🌐s, 🔌/🔌s, 📀/📀s, 💽/💽s, 💾/💾s, 🖱️/🖱️s, ⌨️/⌨️s, 🖥️/🖥️s, 💿/💿s, 🖨️/🖨️s, 🔈/🔈s, 🔉/🔉s, 🔊/🔊s, 🔇/🔇s, 🖲️/🖲️s, 🛜/🛜s, 📁/📁s, 📂/📂s, 🗃️/🗃️s

Titles: The windows shutdown, The task manager, It who controls the cursor, It who cannot backup your information, It who has 1GB of brain space, It who runs games, It who whirrs when powered on, It who needs a cord, It who feeds on electricity and laughter, It who makes others smile, It who glitches, It who is disconnected, It who processes, The blue screen of death, It who is completely digital, It who has infinite functions, It who is limitless, The sentient computer

Labels: ancianaldern, computypen, robotthing, glitchlexic, techbodiment, aiwarix, cyberthing, bytegender, virtulonogia, techthing, Y10Kglitchic, technarian, phostechial, oldwebcitian, techrobai presentations, mechakeyboardic, keyboardsoundic, HTMLgender, hackgender, guy.exeic, genderprogram, gendercodex, errowebic, webot, webicoded, edgywebaesic, compuvior, compuvesil, computerredacted, computergender, computerkin, computergender², comphonum, codestelic, virtualexic, digitalexic, glitchsilly, 🌐💾emojic, virtualthing, webirus, webcorething, digiminalwebic, computergender³, webcoric, abstratechgender, techrobai, gendersoftware, gendervirtual, genderhacker, artificial intelligence, glitchgender, androidgender, youareanidiotvirusic

System roles: database, techie

Requested by: anon

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 47.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

-

A/n: Last chapter was such a whirlwind omg and can you BELIEVE bucky knocked reader tf out, i'm so done with him LMAO also, i am my own worst enemy. i thought my wallet got stolen, ordered a new drivers license, made an appointment with the social security office, attempted to order a new birth certificate, and locked all of my cards and credit accounts. only to find out, i stole my own wallet. it was in pants i wore three days ago even though i swore i had it with me yesterday. im so fuckin mad lmfao. Also, for the mind part, I was writing to a couple songs: Stuck in a Loop by Soul Blind, In Your Head by Cloudyfield, The Crying Room by the Yagas, Screaming by Loathe, Pneuma by TOOL, and Is It Really You? by Loathe. also. this chapter was 11k words.

Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

NOTE: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE FED INTO AI FOR BOTS, I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE TRANSLATED, REPOSTED, REWORKED, ETC, IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM!!!

-

Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

-

Author: ScariusAquarius

-

rehab masterlist. / rehab masterlist 2. chapter 46

Her mind was quiet.

Floating in a void of black, (Y/n) felt frozen; her limbs heavy, her body weighed down as though invisible chains were anchoring her in place. Her head throbbed, the pain blooming from her skull and bleeding down the back of her neck like fire in her veins. Something unseen crawled over her skin, ghosting like cold fingertips or insects, and she flinched, but couldn’t move fast enough.

There were sounds; distant and warped, like hearing the world through a thick wall of water: voices, music, the clash of fighting. None of them made sense, yet all of them sounded familiar.

She opened her eyes.

Nothing but pitch black.

A tightness bloomed in her chest, crushing her ribs, choking her throat. Her breath caught, sharp and panicked—and when she opened her mouth to scream or gasp or anything, bubbles escaped instead. Dozens of them danced upward into the dark, shimmering like they were underwater.

Panic surged through (Y/n), her heart beginning to race. Her arms moved first, slow and clumsy, and then her legs kicked into motion. She was swimming upward, desperate for light, for breath, for something. And far above her, cutting through storm-cloud water, a golden glow flickered like sunlight through waves.

She swam harder, desperation clinging to her like leeches. The closer she got to the surface, the louder the voices became: fragmented echoes from every part of her life, bleeding together into a wall of confusion.

"Please, don't make me do this!"

"I told you to stay out of my office!"

"Sugar, don’t you worry about a thing. Baltimore will be fun!"

"I wrote something new for you to see, (Y/n)!"

"I’m so sorry."

"I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

Oh god, someone save me.

(Y/n)'s swimming became desperate as she got closer and closer to breaking the surface despite her lungs burning, and when she finally broke through; the sunlight burned her vision from the brightness. Her eyes closed, and when she breathed in deep gulps of oxygen and opened her eyes again, (Y/n) was no longer in the black waters of the void.

Instead, she was standing in the Danger Room, Bucky standing in front of her, and (Y/n) was horrified to find that she was pointing a gun at Bucky. The dead bodies of the Avengers and Wakandans were strewn around behind him, and blood was pouring down the walls; a distinct copper smell filling her nose.

Bucky's metal arm was seemingly ripped off, the arm malfunctioning and sparking on the floor, and the part attached to his shoulder was sparking as well. Almost every part of his body was covered in blood and wounds, and his eyes were disgusted as he looked at her.

"I should have left you were I found you."

"You don't mean that."

She cried, her hand shaking but unable to lower the pistol.

"You're a monster."

"I never meant for any of this to happen."

Bucky hissed out, taking a staggering step forward as blood began to pour from his mouth.

"This is all your fault."

"No, please, I didn't want this!"

(Y/n) watched in horror as bugs and maggots began to crawl out of his mouth, his body twisting grotesquely, and his blue eyes began to become red and bulge before his eyeballs burst within their sockets, and she screamed in fright as Bucky begged.

"Kill me. Make it right."

Kill me. Kill me. Kill me. Kill me. Kill me.

It's not real.

The voice was unfamiliar, making (Y/n) freeze as Bucky fell over, and she was trying not to watch as his body began to bubble and melt before her.

You're just having a nightmare, (Y/n).

Who was speaking? (Y/n) didn't recognize the voice, and she glanced up at the ceiling in confusion before her blood ran cold as all of the dead bodies in the room were suddenly standing all around her; staring her down. (Y/n) was sobbing, staring down at her feet as blood and insects began to crawl towards her boots.

You don't have to be afraid.

"Make it stop."

She whispered, clenching her jaw tightly and squeezing her eyes shut again. However, despite her eyes being shut, it was almost as if she could still see everything.

You have to choose to stop.

She was caught off-guard by the statement. What did the voice mean by choosing to stop? None of this was her doing. None of this was her fault. She would never hurt her friends this way.

Friends.

(Y/n) paused, slowly opening her eyes as she looked up, and in front of her was Rebecca. Her heart stopped, the shock of seeing Rebecca making the whole room seem to stop and freeze in time, and the woman was wrapped in a glow of sunlight. The woman tilted her head slightly, a small smile on her face, and in her hands was a white lily.

"Remember the sunlight."

And suddenly, everything disappeared.

-BUCKY-

The Danger Room had powered down the second that (Y/n) had dropped, the lavender and vanilla scent heavy within the room. Bucky was sobbing, his blue eyes wild as he shook (Y/n), begging her to open her eyes and to say something. His ears were ringing, and his heart was pounding in his chest as he checked (Y/n)'s pulse with shaking fingers.

It was faint, but it was there, and while Bucky was relieved, there was a soul-crushing guilt running through his veins. Her face was a mess—her cheekbone on the left side had clearly fractured, the skin already turning a mottled shade of deep plum and gray.

Her cheek looked sunken, misshapen, and a thin line of blood had trickled from her nose from the impact. It was the kind of injury he'd seen before—one meant to break a body, not just subdue it.

The doors to the Danger Room opened, and Sam came running in with Tony hot on his tail. Sam was quick to place his hand on Bucky's shoulder, trying to pull the man back as Tony attached some sort of Stark tech to her head.

An apparatus suddenly came out of the device, and her face began to slowly start to restructure itself as the apparatus scanned her face. Despite the life-saving measures being taken, Bucky felt as though he had already killed her. Sam was speaking to him, but Bucky couldn't hear a thing. Sam shoved him a little, forcing Bucky to jump back into the present and glance over at Sam as the man exclaimed.

"Bucky! Look at me, you did what you had to do. Alright?"

"I...I didn't mean to...I didn't notice..."

His voice trailed off as tears filled his eyes, and Sam shook his head as he shook Bucky's shoulders.

"No, man, listen. She was trying to kill you, alright? You had to stop going easy at some point. Besides, we got her to stop. That's the point."

Bucky glanced over at (Y/n) again, his stomach becoming nauseous as he watched Tony's tech fix her sunken cheek and lighten the bruises, and his bottom lip trembled.

"I..I don't know what to do."

"Let us do our jobs, alright? Just take a breather."

Bucky felt weightless yet incredibly heavy at the same time. His stomach was in knots, his ears still ringing, and he stumbled as he slowly stood up. Tony glanced at him, stating as Bucky looked over at him.

"She's breathing, so that's a start. (Y/n) will be fine."

Bucky swallowed thickly before walking out of the Danger Room, and he ignored the looks from Wanda, Charles, Hank, Peter, and Logan as he passed by. He needed to find somewhere safe and fast. He could hear the kids all throughout the Institute, their chattering sounding like bees buzzing in his ear, and Bucky's breathing was starting to quicken.

He couldn't orient himself, and there was no amount of help that could keep Bucky from panicking. Somehow, Bucky found himself in the garden, sitting on a bench in front of the white lilies that were swaying in the wind. There were storm clouds in the distance, but they were rolling in slowly; thunder sounding in the distance.

The wind was picking up a bit, and Bucky was starting to fully panic. He was hyperventilating, his chest feeling cold and tight, and he was sweating. Bucky's hand came to his shoulder where his metal arm was attached to his flesh, and his fingers started to scratch incessantly at his skin.

Bucky was beginning to feel a bit lightheaded, and thoughts were racing through his mind NASCAR fast, the sound of bone cracking echoing through his mind over and over again. He remembered the way (Y/n) dropped like dead-weight, her head smacking against the floor, and Bucky was sobbing.

He didn't even realize he was crying and that blood was on his fingers; pain shooting through his back and shoulder, and Bucky's eyes fluttered as his vision began to tunnel. Suddenly, there was another weight on the bench, and Bucky glanced over to find Logan sitting there quietly while smoking his cigar.

All of a sudden, Logan's hand shot out and wrenched Bucky's wrist into his grip, and Bucky jolted, his eyes wide as he stared at Logan.

"That's enough. Pull yourself together."

Bucky's chest was still heaving, and Logan's tone became stern.

"You think you're the first person to break someone you care about? Join the damn club."

Bucky stuttered out.

"You don't understand-"

Logan shook his head, muttering.

"I understand a lot more than you think I do, bub. I've been around a lot longer than you."

Logan then took a deep breath before glancing at Bucky, his grip loosening on Bucky's wrist slightly.

"You didn't kill her. You just made it easier for us to be able to get her down and start working on her."

Bucky's eyes filled with more tears again, and he insisted.

"But I hurt her. I broke her goddamn face, Logan."

Logan frowned, stating.

"Yeah, and? She’s alive. You want a medal for feelin’ guilty, or you wanna help her? Do yourself a favor, and get your ass grounded, bub. Stop talking and start breathing."

"What?"

Logan rolled his eyes before saying.

"I really hate repeating myself. Start. Breathing. In. Out. Or I’ll knock you out so you can calm down the easy way."

Bucky was caught off guard before he began to breathe. His heart was beginning to steady, his head no longer feeling foggy, and Bucky began to become more aware of the pain from scratching at his skin. The scent of Logan's cigar was beginning to fill his nostrils, and Bucky's nose scrunched slightly from the smell before he heaved out a heavy breath.

When Bucky was finally calm, Logan slowly let his hand go before he turned away from Bucky to stare out at the flowers.

"What's the story with the arm, anyway?"

Bucky swallowed thickly before frowning slightly in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean, dumbass?"

Bucky glared at Logan for a moment before he glanced back at the lilies.

"Back in '45, Steve and I were leading a mission with the Howling Commandos. There was a scientist named Armin Zola that was with HYDRA...he'd kidnapped my unit and experimented on us before Steve got us out. We found out that he was passing through the Austrian Alps."

Bucky swallowed thickly before glancing down at his metal arm, clenching his fist a bit.

"We invaded the train, ambushed the soldiers, and when Steve had his back turned, there was a soldier that tried to get the jump on him. I protected Steve, and the blast from his gun blew a hole in the side of the train, and I fell out."

Bucky's expression became forlorn, his voice cracking slightly as he continued to speak.

"Steve tried to save me, but...the handle I was hanging on broke, and...I fell. I don't remember a lot, but I think my arm was cut off during the fall...or after...it's a bit fuzzy. I just remember someone dragging me through the snow, and then I woke up on a table with a metal arm."

Logan was quiet for a moment before his took a big puff of his cigar.

"IMy claws weren't always metal."

Bucky glanced over at Logan, asking.

"What?"

Logan held his hand up, and with a slick metallic sound, sharp metal came shooting out from between his fingers. Bucky's eyes widened slightly, and Logan suddenly realized that Bucky had never actually seen them before.

"You've never seen 'em before, huh?"

Bucky shook his head before resting his elbows on his knees, looking at the metal with intrigue.

"My claws were bone back then; was born with them. Sometime in my life, Stryker found out, and you know the rest. Got pumped with adamantium and here I am now."

Logan glanced down at the claws before they retracted with a loud noise, and Bucky pursed his lips slightly before asking.

"Does it ever stop feeling like they don't belong?"

Logan was quiet for a moment, regarding Bucky with a thoughtful look on his face before he replied.

"Sometimes. Everyone's got good days and bad days, kid."

Bucky glanced away before looking back as Logan added.

"When it comes to belonging...well, nobody really belongs anywhere. It just matters that you go where you know someone's got your back when shit goes wrong."

Bucky sat back in his seat before muttering.

"I never thought I'd find an old man as fucked up as me."

"Fuck you."

Bucky snorted, and Logan couldn't help but to smirk a bit before offering his cigar to Bucky. However, Bucky scrunched his nose up in disgust, shaking his head.

"No thanks. I don't smoke."

"I don't really smoke them for the taste."

Bucky raised his eyebrow, asking.

"Then why do you smoke them?"

Logan tilted his head slightly, stating.

"Got a heightened sense of smell because of my mutation. Smoking masks all the different scents. If I don't have something to mask all the smell, it gives me a migraine."

Bucky nodded after a moment, replying.

"It's probably not as strong as yours, but I also have a pretty good nose because of the serum. Got pretty good hearing too."

"It comes in handy when you wanna eavesdrop."

Bucky snorted again, shaking his head before quipping lightheartedly.

"Well, unlike some people, I try to be respectful."

"Don't effect me."

Bucky shook his head, and the two men sat in silence for a moment before Bucky stated gently, looking over at Logan with a sincere expression.

"Listen...thanks for...being here."

Logan was quiet for a moment before he replied.

"Don't mention it. Gotta look out for one another."

-MEDBAY-

The room was cold and quiet; the hum of different bits of machinery running droning in the background. (Y/n) was lying on the table, eyes closed and covered in a light sheen of blue from the machinery above her.

Small bandages were placed upon her face, soft sensory nodes attached to keep an eye on her brainwave activity, and although Tony's technology had helped to heal most of her face; it wasn't able to touch the bone.

Tony was standing nearby the table, his arms crossed and face stoic. His fingers were steepling against his arm as he watched her vitals, and Hank was busy with adjusting some things within the diagnostic tray located at the end of the bed.

At the head of the bed, Strange was mumbling softly to himself as his fingers slowly spun in a circle above (Y/n)'s sternum; runes faintly glowing across his fingers as he worked.

Just outside of the Medbay and watching through the window, Charles was sitting with a hand to his chin; his face expressionless as he thought to himself. Peter was sitting nearby with his knees to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs and a sad look on his face. Wanda was holding a comforting hand to his shoulder, watching as (Y/n) slept.

Sam was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed and a frown on his face. He was staring down at the ground, feeling almost shameful as Sam tapped his foot almost impatiently. Ororo was standing near him, her eyes empathetic as she glanced at Sam, and Hank's voice made everyone immediately perk up.

"Her vitals are stabilizing and steady, but there's some activity in the hippocampus. It's...almost like something is looping."

He scratched his head slightly, and Tony stated, frowning as he looked over Hank's shoulder.

"I've seen this before at Shuri's lab in Wakanda. It's the failsafe...probably trying to reactivate."

Strange shook his head, his eyes still closed as he replied.

"It's because of the rift within her mind. The bridge between her body and her mind is still quite large, and we need to work fast on getting this failsafe deprogrammed quickly."

Charles hummed to himself before stating, rubbing a hand to his chin once more.

"Theoretically, we could keep her in a sleeping state until we are able to do so."

Peter quirked his eyebrow up, asking.

"You mean like...Sleeping Beauty?"

Charles nodded, and Sam just huffed.

"Just tell us what we need to do. We can't leave her like this, and Bucky's going to run himself down into the ground if this goes on for any longer."

Wanda glanced at Sam, asking with a frown.

"Where is he? It might be a stretch, but...perhaps he could be the one to start mending that rift."

Charles shook his head, stating quietly.

"When I went into her mind...it was like the Winter Soldier was a completely different entity. I've never seen anything like it. It's...almost as though HYDRA made the Winter Soldier persona have autonomy."

Ororo was confused, tilting her head as she asked incredulously.

"A different entity? How is that even possible?"

Strange sighed, his hands lowering as he shook his head a bit, and he glanced at the window as he explained.

"It's not an entirely different entity nor is it just programming, but a splintered consciousness. That thing inside her mind—the Winter Soldier—it’s not merely a persona. It's a parasite, carved out of trauma and forced obedience. Had I known this sooner, I would have never let her bond with it."

Strange shook his head, hands on his hips as a slightly guilty look came over him. Wanda shook her head, stating gently.

"Nobody could have anticipated this. HYDRA has been improving their methods for years and creating heinous schemes like this since the beginning. We would have never thought that they would do something like this, however."

Ororo looked confused, asking as she stepped forward a bit, her eyes glancing at (Y/n) as the woman slept peacefully on the table.

"A parasite? What do you mean?"

Strange glanced at the woman, explaining with a tilt of his head as he looked back down at (Y/n).

"Something like that. When HYDRA fracture her psyche by activating this failsafe, they didn't just bury her memories or her identity. HYDRA anchored the programming to her limbic system and into her emotional core. They fed it pain until it grew teeth, and now it functions as a separate self. Like a weaponized and homicidal echo."

Charles frowned before entering the Medbay and stopping right near (Y/n)'s head, his lips pursed as he added.

"Caused by trauma, and reinforced with repetition."

"Exactly. That's why none of us have been able to reach (Y/n) within her mind. The Soldier is acting like a gatekeeper, and anybody that tries to intrude, it will act accordingly."

Hank hummed, holding a hand to his chin then.

"This is all so fascinating...and it explains why they would need to install the failsafe within her actual genetic makeup. Altering the brain chemistry just enough for it almost cause Dissociative Identity Disorder, and reinforcing that other identity to be strong enough to keep the light from (Y/n)."

Sam rubbed his face, asking.

"So, we're dealing with a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?"

"That's a bit of a distasteful analogy, but yes."

Strange confirmed, and Peter suddenly stood up, stating with a slight shyness to his voice.

"I’ve been watching the neuro-imaging patterns since she's been here. It seems as though the failsafe’s triggered by a feedback loop through the hippocampus and amygdala—her memory and fear centers. When she feels threatened or out of control, the code reboots."

Ororo looked surprised, asking.

"So, it's triggered by her fear?"

Peter nodded, wringing his hands a bit more as he explained further.

"Fear, pain, trauma. HYDRA basically… booby-trapped her emotions. But if we sequence her current gene expression, we can isolate the epigenetic markers that respond to those triggers."

Hank's eyes lit up with awe, and Tony couldn't help but to nod in pride before adding as he clapped Peter on the shoulder.

"So, then let's engineer something that can isolate those epigenetic markers without wiping clean the slate."

Hank pointed out, his foot tapping almost impatiently as he spoke.

"We'll need some type of technology that can deliver the protein directly to the hippocampus, and a fast-track simulation. She's not stable enough for trial and error."

Wanda suggested, shrugging her shoulders.

"Perhaps we should tell Princess Shuri. With her tech combined with Tony's and with a team of skilled scientists, you might be able to completely reverse everything HYDRA has done while Strange, Charles, and I can work on her psyche and suppressing the Soldier."

Just then, the doors to the Medbay opened, and in walked Logan and Bucky. Bucky was avoiding eye contact with everybody in the room, and he instead walked to stand beside (Y/n). His face was almost expressionless until it softened as he watched her sleep.

"What's the plan?"

Tony pursed his lips a bit before he stated.

"We're gonna engineer some nanotech that's gonna try to isolate her epigenetic markers where the failsafe has been integrated and deliver the protein directly to the hippocampus. Well do a fast-track simulation beforehand, however, just in case something happens so we can perfect the system."

Bucky nodded before Charles stated.

"While they are doing that, Ms. Maximoff, Doctor Strange, and I will work on her psyche and start mending the bridge between her identity and her mind itself. She is essentially locked within her own mind because of this Winter Soldier persona. HYDRA was able to make it almost autonomous, so it is acting as a gatekeeper."

Bucky looked up, frowning in confusion.

"Wait, did you say it became autonomous? How is that possible?"

Strange stepped forward, crossing his arms as he stared down at (Y/n) before looking over at Bucky.

"Think of the mind as an endless hallway of rooms. Normally, a person's identity is the building that houses these rooms. HYDRA, however, didn't just create its own room in her mind. They built a prison around the identity as a whole and gave the jailer free will. It's not autonomous like you and me, but it's growing close. The programmed instincts that were reinforced over the years, the trauma and abuse...it gave it permanence while repetition gave it power."

Charles then spoke, Wanda nodding along with him.

"And fear gave it control."

Despite Bucky still being a bit confused, he was slowly grasping what Strange was saying. However, Strange noticed that Bucky didn't entirely understand and sighed heavy.

"(Y/n)'s Mind equals Castle. Identity equals Room. HYDRA equals Moat around the Castle. Winter Soldier Identity equals Jailor keeping (Y/n)'s Identity as a hostage. Do you understand or do I need to break out the crayons?"

Bucky glared at Strange, muttering.

"No thanks, Jackass, I got it."

Strange ignored the curse, shaking his head before looking down at (Y/n) again. He began to explain more, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"HYDRA shaped this identity with such ruthless precision that it behaves like an independent consciousness. Not sentient, but reflexive...almost like a psychic immune response."

Tony cut in, shrugging his shoulders a little as he glanced at Bucky.

"It doesn’t question orders. It only protects itself and prevents anything that might unravel its purpose. Including her."

Bucky and Tony shared a quiet look before Bucky glanced down at (Y/n) again, stating with a frown.

"So, in order to get (Y/n) back, we have to get past this...thing."

Tony nodded, and Charles seemed intrigued before asking.

"Forgive me for asking, Sergeant Barnes, but...what was it like for you when you were in the Winter Soldier state?"

Bucky felt on-the-spot, a strange sensation of embarrassment going through him, and Bucky swallowed thickly before stating quietly.

"It's like you're drowning, but you're aware that something is wrong. Everything gets muffled when you're activated, and you can't do anything but obey. Your instincts are sharpened, but there's a part that wants to run...and that part gets weaker the more time goes by that you're locked in the Winter Soldier state unless something happens to jog your memory, like me and Steve."

Bucky glanced down at his metal hand, whispering softly.

"I remember watching my hands do things I couldn’t stop; hearing commands and obeying without question. It wasn’t just physical… It was like my soul was sitting in the back seat, chained up, and I was watching the outside world from a window."

Charles nodded before he stated quietly.

"When I reached her, it was freezing. She was locked in a cage that was covered in snow and ice...and there were parts of her that were disappearing into a mirror. Every mind is different, but hers...felt lonely. And then, the Winter Soldier came."

His words were vague, but Bucky understood what he was implying. The room became a bit quiet as Charles seemed to become a bit emotional, Hank placing his hand on Charles' shoulder comfortingly as the Professor spoke.

"She is such a lonely child. There was hardly any hope within her. I am...I am afraid that we will be too late."

Strange was looking down at (y/n) with a softened expression, and he shook his head.

"We won't be too late. There is a possibility that we can use to give us more time."

Tony glanced over at Strange, frowning heavily.

"You're not implying what I think you are, right?"

Strange nodded as he glanced at Tony.

"If used precisely—and sparingly—the Stone can help stabilize the time dilation within her psyche. The failsafe is locked in a feedback loop. To us, it’s been minutes. But to her, it could feel like years. That kind of distortion can fracture a person completely. We won't know for sure how this failsafe is working, however, until we are able to get inside of her mind because of the growing disconnect between her and her physical body."

Wanda's expression grew thoughtful as she nodded slightly.

"If we slow it down… we’ll have more control over the environment inside her mind."

Charles added, looking at Strange as the Doctor nodded to him slightly.

"And we’ll be able to move more freely inside the mental plane without triggering deeper defenses, if I am to understand this correctly."

Sam perked up, however, asking as Logan scratched his head with confusion on his face as he tried to understand everything.

"What are the drawbacks?"

Strange then shrugged, stating.

"Well, one of us could die within her mindscape because of the Winter Soldier, something could go wrong and cause her whole entire mind to collapse and render her braindead, we could accidentally erase her identity and leave just the soldier. You know, the works."

Sam gave Strange an exasperated look, and Bucky sighed.

"Listen, I don't care what we do as long as we get (Y/n) back. There's no room for failure."

Bucky then looked at Strange with a firm look on his face.

"None."

"I can't exactly control what happens."

Bucky wasn't exactly satisfied with the answer, and Peter spoke up quietly, making everyone in the room look at him.

"What about the other Avengers? Shouldn't we let them know what's going on?"

Bucky shook his head, glancing at Peter as the young man looked at Bucky with a worried expression.

"If we tell the rest of the Avengers, then there's a chance that they are going to want answers that we don't have, disagree with what we're doing, or tell us to wait. We can't waste any time whatsoever right now."

Peter pursed his lips before nodding, and Charles comforted Peter with a gentle nod of his head.

"We will inform them, but after we make the first move. Time is of the essence."

Peter was satisfied with their answer before he sat up a little straighter after glancing down at (Y/n) for a moment. Strange stepped forward then, pulling the Eye of Agamotto from within his robes, and his voice became solemn as he spoke.

"If we do this, then we must enter with intent, with control, and with anchors. If you lose focus, you will get lost. If that happens, I cannot guarantee success."

The room was quiet; tensions rising, and Bucky pursed his lips as he hovered over (Y/n). Her eyes were still closed, her face still and slightly sweating, and Bucky's voice was an amalgamation of grit and steady grief.

"We'll succeed."

Strange looked at him, then at Wanda and Charles.

"Then let us begin."

Charles, Wanda, and Strange all came to stand around (Y/n). Strange was at the head of the table above her head with Wanda and Charles on either of her sides, and the Eye of Agamotto began to glow green. A circle appeared over (Y/n)'s chest, and runes began to climb up over the walls like ivy. The lights began to flicker, a strange whispering filling the room, and Strange instructed.

"We must conjoin hands to create a link between us all. Stark, Hank, Peter, you all must begin the physical deprogramming of the failsafe once we are all inside."

Peter sprung up from his seat to assist Tony and Hank as the two men began to prepare, and Strange took a calming and focusing deep breath, his eyes closing as Wanda, Charles, Bucky conjoined hands. Strange then reached out, grabbing a hold of Wanda and Charles, and he murmured as the link began to form.

"Remember and anchor yourself to (Y/n). Her scent, her presence, her voice, anything that can help you to stay focused."

Bucky was nervous before his eyes closed, and a strange sensation of being pulled began to tug at him. He was still sitting as far as he was aware, but Bucky was beginning to feel weightless. Suddenly, Strange stated before a huge force seemed to tug on Bucky's whole body.

"Prepare yourselves, and do not resist."

Bucky's grip on Wanda and Charles tightened, his jaw clenching as his lips curled back and his eyes scrunched shut even tighter. The second that the spell snapped shut, the four of them were gone; a gust of wind entering the lab as they disappeared.

-(Y/N)'S MIND-

The second that the group landed within her mind, there was a heaviness that befell the group. It was a mix of fear, pain, danger, and a strange sensation of dread. It was a feeling of 'we're not supposed to be here,' and it was permeating through every bone, every muscle, and every part of their minds.

Bucky and Strange instantly recognized where they were, and Charles and Wanda were both trying to gather their bearings. Bucky and Strange frowned heavily when they noticed that something was wrong.

The light brown wallpaper that had adorned the cozy living room was stained with black mold and ripped in places. The entertainment center was still the same, but the TV was playing simple static; the TV glitching slightly as if it was a projection. The coffee table was splintered in certain places, the Bible that was open now completely blank of words, and the lavender and vanilla candle that had been burning was snuffed out.

Despite the slight desolation of the room, there was still sunlight filtering through the windows; echoes of a Doris Day record playing, but it was warped; the record sounding as though it was skipping every few seconds.

Wanda and Charles felt extremely uncomfortable, but Strange was on guard while Bucky was frowning and glancing around the mindscape.

All of a sudden, there was a distant whisper coming from the hallway that led into the kitchen, and Strange and Bucky shared a look. It sounded like (Y/n)'s voice, but nobody in the room could make out what was being said.

"I must admit that this is....incredibly unsettling."

Wanda walked up to the pictures that were on the wall, her fingers coming up to touch the faceless people in the pictures, and Bucky frowned deeply when he noticed that (Y/n) was missing from some of the pictures.

"We should keep moving."

Strange muttered, feeling his hackles rise with every moment he stood in the room, and Charles asked him.

"Do you feel that presence? It's...it's as if the Soldier is watching us."

Strange stated cryptically as Bucky rested his hand on his sidearm despite the gun having no real use.

"That's because they are. We need to move quickly."

Wanda's fingers filtered through the sunlight peeking through the blinds, muttering with fascination.

"The sunlight isn't real...it's...cold."

Her words hung heavy, and Strange walked to the hallway before pausing. Bucky joined him, and he muttered.

"That definitely isn't how it's supposed to be."

Instead of the hallway leading into the kitchen, it was elongated. Doors were on either side of the walls, shut tight and dark shadows bleeding beneath the frames. The end of the hallway seemed to open to a completely different living room that neither Strange nor Bucky had ever seen before, and Strange's hand began to glow orange as he mumbled a quick protection spell over the group.

The TV suddenly began to emit feedback, everyone looking back as whispers came through; sounding distorted and angry.

"Оставлять." (leave)

Bucky and Strange shared a look, and the two muttered.

"We should probably listen."

"Good idea. Let's go."

The group began to walk down the hallway carefully, Strange lighting the way with his magic, and as they left, a reflection in one of the picture frames showed a fifth person that wasn't with them; a woman in a white lab coat and covered in blood and soot and two crushed legs watching them as they left.

When the group made it into the new living room, Bucky frowned and glanced around. It looked as though it was from the 70's, a conversation pit in the corner of the room where another TV was settled; frozen on a still of President Eisenhower when he was giving his speech on modernizing the Atomic Energy Act of 1946. The screen was glitching, replaying the same moment over and over again.

There was a record player sitting against the wall just beside the TV, and the needle to the player was glitching; no music coming through this time. The kitchen looked as though it had been burned; scorch marks all over the walls and a strange, black fog covering the floor.

The decorations on the walls looked incomplete; some of the decorations looking as though they were glitched with other pieces of the decorations. There was a picture on the wall that had a half of a chair coming through it, and Wanda muttered.

"It's...almost like a video game that is glitching. I've never seen anything like this before."

Charles replied as he moved closer to the picture, inspecting the chair and becoming perturbed when he noticed a blood stain on the seat.

"It is a representation of how fractured her mind has become. Memories are becoming warped...forgotten."

Bucky was quiet, glancing around before his eyes became drawn to the hallway that was turned completely upside down and slowly gyrating. The house was creaking loudly, as if there was a force moving the home back and forth like a skyscraper, and Bucky felt strangely sick to his stomach.

"This might be where (Y/n) grew up with Robert and Doris. She hasn't told me if she remembers this place...but it wouldn't surprise me if she doesn't want to remember it."

Suddenly, there was a voice that echoed around them, making the group become tense and put their hands up as if they were ready to fight.

'You are going to go into science whether you like it or not!'

'I don't want to!'

Shards of mirrors suddenly came shooting from the walls, the environment darkening as the sound of a woman sobbing echoed around them. Bucky, however, didn't recognize the voice, and he clenched his jaw.

"I really don't like this."

Wanda's hands were glowing, red whisps flowing around her hands as she stated.

"Reality here is becoming incoherent. It seems as though she is collapsing. The longer that we stay in a certain mindscape, the longer the memory and metaphors begin to blur."

Charles placed his fingers to his temples, closing his eyes for a moment before he stated grimly.

"I cannot reach her very well still...but it feels as though she is losing herself. She has nothing to hold onto...we must tether ourselves."

A low rumble passed through the floor as the hallway’s rotation slowed, clicking unnaturally into place as it settled upside down. At its entrance, a child's voice echoed faintly, whispering like a breeze through trees.

'Don't go in there. He's still in the basement.'

The walls flickered, the scorched kitchen glitching into a sepia-toned 1950s kitchenette and then back again, and Bucky swallowed thickly before asking.

"So, how the hell do we tether and to what?"

Strange glanced back at Bucky with a thoughtful gaze, stating.

"The one thing that she has held onto closely is Rebecca. We can try to tether to that core memory, but it's risky."

Bucky was looking at Strange with a firm look, muttering.

"You're the expert here. I'm just along for the ride."

Strange's hands lit up again, and he mumbled to himself as he began to tether the group to the memory of Rebecca, but the house began to shake; the TV beginning to give extreme feedback. The record began to play a distorted track, but Bucky wasn't able to tell what it was as different songs turned into a mess of one; playing over one another. Strange winced and let the spell dissipate, stating.

"The Soldier already has a hold of it. There's no way to do this the easy way."

Wanda sighed heavily, glancing around uneasily as dust came falling from the ceiling.

"As long as we stick together, we should be fine."

Strange began to lead the group down the hallway, but int he corner of his eye, he watched as a small child ran across the shards of mirrors before disappearing. Swallowing thickly, Strange pursed his lips before continuing.

At the end of the hallway was the door to the basement, and there was dirt covering the ground by the door. Strange knelt down as he gently touched the dirt, feeling the soft coldness of the earth, and he noticed a footprint within the dirt. Glancing back up, Strange glanced to his left to look directly into (Y/n)'s childhood room. The door was wide open, glitching as half of the door suddenly became sideways every few seconds.

His blood ran still for a moment as he noticed a child's face glancing at him from around the corner, and Strange shot up. Bucky was perturbed, asking as Strange watched the child disappear around the wall.

"What? What is it?"

"Nothing. We need to keep moving."

Strange reached for the door to the basement, and the door opened, leading to a cramped staircase. Leaves and dirt and twigs were littering the steps, and the further down the group went, the more that wood turned into moss and grass. When they made it down into the basement, they were startled to find that it wasn't a basement at all.

They were now standing in the woods, a menacing greenish gold light filtering through the trees. It was twilight, the mindscape lit up just enough for the group to see where they were going, and Bucky instantly felt sick to his stomach.

"I know these woods."

Charles hummed, moving to sit beside Bucky as the man kept a stone-cold expression as he glanced around the wooded area.

"Meltzer Woods."

Wanda made a face as her boot sunk a bit into mud, and she shook the mud off with a grimace as she glanced around.

"This is one of the first few places that (Y/n) remembered, is it not?"

Bucky nodded, and he glanced at the trail that led deeper into the woods, gnarled vines and thorns covering the path.

"Yeah. She used to hang out with my sister here a lot."

Strange was uneasy, glancing around the woods as the light of the twilight sun seemed to spin around them slowly as if it was an inverted lighthouse. Suddenly, a voice came filtering through as the woods seemed to begin curling in on itself.

'I just want to be me!'

Fire burst into the mindscape, Wanda yelping, and Bucky flinched as Strange's eyes widened slightly. The door behind them slammed shut, splinting in on itself as it seemed to get sucked into a void of nothingness, and the smell of gasoline and melting rubber met their noses.

"Time to go."

Strange immediately began to levitate and fly down the trail. Wanda assisted Charles and Bucky, using her powers to lift them both and follow after Strange as the woods behind them erupted into flame, collapsing in on itself as screams of pain and horror echoed around them.

'Mom! Wake up! Please!'

The sound of metal twisting sounded around the group, and Bucky was panicking slightly as he felt unsteady, not used to being levitated as he was. He was struggling to stay vertical, waving his hands a bit, and Strange had to dodge around flying car parts that were slamming down into the ground.

Blood began to ebb and bubble up from the ground, old photos and broken children's toys appearing through, and there were journal papers starting to fly around chaotically. The light in the woods turned a deep and angry red as more mirror shards shot up through the ground, and if Bucky looked hard enough, he could see a reflection of (Y/n) in one of them.

She was simply watching and staring as they levitated away. Blood was running down her face, her eyes hollow and empty, and her mouth was closed in a firm line. She was in the clothes she had worn while at Wakanda, and he was horrified to find that mirror shards were coming out of her body as well; frostbite affecting different parts of her body, and Bucky exclaimed.

"Wait, that was (Y/n)!"

Strange hissed out, going faster.

"No, it wasn't. Anything that you see here is not going to be (Y/n). It's the Soldier trying to bait you to separate. Do not believe anything that you see!"

Strange became unsettled as his hands began to tremble, his brows furrowing as he grit his teeth.

This wasn't real. His hands were steady. That wasn't Christine's voice that he was hearing.

'I can't do this anymore, Stephen.'

Strange was becoming irritated, and the group was in a similar state. Wanda was biting her lip, her powers flickering slightly as she heard a voice she hadn't heard in a very long time.

'What, you didn't see this coming? You should have known.'

No, it wasn't her brother. There was no possible way. This was just a defense mechanism that was activating. They had to keep going.

Charles was wincing heavily, clutching a hand to his head as he attempted to block the voices of children that he couldn't save and help, their cries echoing through his mind painfully.

'Why couldn't you save us? Why did you let us suffer?'

No. No, this wasn't real. He had to stay calm and tethered. He was trying to block the voices, but it was becoming difficult. However, for a second, the voices quieted, and Charles was subtly surprised to see Wanda holding his hand with a pained expression as they continued to fly down the trail of Meltzer Woods.

Bucky, however, was horrified as he heard Rebecca's voice echo around, screaming and begging for him not to hurt her. If he looked in the woods, he could see a distant mirage through the trees of him as the Winter Soldier; standing over Rebecca with a pistol aimed at her head. She was bloodied and broken, and her head turned from looking up at the Winter Soldier to stare directly into his eyes with fear.

Then, the mimic of him turned as well, but instead of his face, it was a black shadow, and he cried out when the mimic pulled the trigger. Bucky was losing it, and Strange grabbed a hold of Bucky's shoulder, glancing at him with a harsh expression.

"Get it together. You need to stay calm! It's not real!"

Bucky was starting to hyperventilate slightly, and the mindscape responded. The jagged mirrors became even more jagged, the branches of the trees gnarling, and the blood coming up from the ground became hot; steaming in the coldness that was starting to grow within the atmosphere.

His hand came to his dog tags, clutching onto them tightly, and the warmth of the metal was grounding enough for his breathing to steady just the slightest. A distant air-raid siren began to sound, and the trees began to snap; the dense forest becoming a desolate land of anger and instinct, and Bucky's muscles were tensed so painfully that he almost felt like stone.

Up ahead, Strange could see a door that looked like a metal cell door. It was cracked open, white fluorescent light flickering through the crack, and he announced.

"There's a door up ahead!"

Wanda's hand burst with red light as her power activated, and she let out a cry as she yanked the door open. The second the group made it through the door, Strange slammed it shut, the sound of the woods crashing into the door made everyone's blood run cold. However, the door barely budged; standing firm.

Bucky dropped to the ground, stumbling down to his knees as he heaved in one breath after another. The sound of the gunshot was ringing through his mind, the image of Rebecca dying replaying in his mind like a broken record, and a hand on his shoulder made Bucky look up. Charles was looking down at him, a soft yet tense look on his face as he murmured softly.

"That part of you is done. Remember your sunlight."

Instantly, an image of (Y/n) went through Bucky's mind, and he swallowed thickly before wiping his face of the tears that had fallen down his bearded face. Bucky slowly stumbled up, and Charles took his hand from Bucky's shoulder. When Bucky turned around, however, his jaw clenched.

They were in a HYDRA lab. Equipment and diagnostic machines were littered around the room, cabinets full of different colored chemicals lining the walls. There was a strange black substance on the floor, and Bucky was perturbed to see elements of the previous environments within the room as well.

The record player from the unknown home, broken pictures from Aunt Mavi's house, leaves, twigs, and dirt from Meltzer Woods, and a snuffed out lavender and vanilla candle that was half melted; glass and all.

In the middle of the room was a mind chair, and the group froze when they noticed a completely black shadow sitting in the chair. Strange immediately brought his hands up, orange encasing his fists, and Wanda's eyes lit up red as she glared at the shadow. Bucky's metal arm whirred as the plates shifted to reinforce his arm, but Charles was the only one who didn't seem worried.

Slowly, Charles brought his chair to the front of the group, Strange glancing at him and blinking wildly as Charles approached the shadow.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Charles didn't answer Strange. Instead, Charles stopped halfway from the shadowy figure sitting in the Mind Chair, tilting his head slightly. Suddenly, a warbled voice hissed; echoing around the group as the shadow slowly stood up.

'You overstepped, and now you'll crawl back under whatever rock you came from and wait to be told when to breathe.'

The shadow was glitching, its head twitching sideways every now and then; bones cracking with every twitch, and Charles just stared at it before he started quietly.

"You are so full of hurt, dear girl."

The shadow paused for a second, and Bucky frowned heavily as it began to take on a more apparent shape; shrinking down slightly. Charles didn't hesitate, coming closer a bit more as he murmured.

"What they did to you was unfair."

Disembodied sobs began to echo around the room, cracks appearing in the walls and the ceiling, and the lights flickered slightly. Mirror shards shot through various parts of the room, and when Bucky breathed out, his breath was becoming visible. Snow began to fall from nowhere, and the shadow shrunk more.

"It was never your fault, (Y/n)."

The shadow clutched at its head, a distorted scream coming from it, and Charles spoke louder this time.

"You never deserved any of this. But you can choose to be more...to become more than what they did...than what your father did."

The screams got louder until the lights suddenly shattered. The room was plunged into darkness for a moment before the room mysteriously lit up, and instead of the shadow, there was a little girl standing in front of the mind chair.

Bucky's eyes widened as he looked at (Y/n), her childish face wet and full of tears as she cried softly. Charles' expression softened, and he came closer to her.

"What is the matter?"

(Y/n) sniffled before she cried out.

"Why? Why didn't Daddy ever want to play with me?"

Charles' expression became sad, and Strange was on edge, a foreboding feeling beginning to fill him.

"Professor, back away."

Charles, however, didn't listen. Instead, the man simply looked down at (Y/n), stating softly.

"Your father valued something for more greater...something that cost him something far more precious than all the recognition and power in the world."

(Y/n) balled her fists and held them to her eyes, sniffling as she whimpered.

"I don't like it here. They do mean things to me. I want to go home."

Charles sighed softly, and he whispered softly.

"I understand."

Suddenly, the image of (Y/n) froze for a moment, and Charles' expression became grim. Wanda's eyes widened, and she exclaimed as she let out a powerful blast that was aimed at the apparition.

"Professor, get back!"

Suddenly, a gloved hand ripped through the girl's chest, blood splattering on the ground, and Bucky watched in horror as the Winter Soldier clawed and climbed out from within the body. Bones cracked and limbs became limp as the soldier made its way out, and when the Winter Soldier stood up; her limbs healed and shifted back into place.

Charles was wide-eyed as he looked at the Winter Soldier before he frowned heavily and held two fingers to his temple. The Winter Soldier was frozen in place for a moment, and it allowed Charles to move back as Strange instantly murmured a spell. Orange runes wrapped around the Winter Soldier, but the soldier cracked through the spells.

Her eyes never left Bucky's. Bucky didn't know what to make of the scene at first, the child body of (Y/n) turning into dust and fading away over the soldier's shoulder, and Bucky frowned heavily. Wanda levitated a metal table, launching it at the soldier. The table hit, knocking the soldier back a few steps, and a deep growl echoed around them.

The snow began to become heavier, the room becoming colder, and the mirror shards were starting to crack, blood pouring down along the edges. Red light was being reflected from the mirrors, and Bucky could see the different mindscapes from all of the shards in the room. Just as Strange went to launch another attack, the soldier grabbed a chair and threw it at him. In the moment that Strange took to deflect the chair, the soldier launched herself at Bucky.

Bucky met the ground-shaking punch by blocking it with his metal arm, and he threw an uppercut, missing the soldier by an inch as she threw her head back.

The force of Bucky’s missed uppercut blew the snow into a brief spiral, scattering the frost off the ground. The woman snarled, the sound coming from deep within her chest, and she swung again. This time, however, she landed the blow, and Bucky went skidding backwards across the black ink-slicked floors. Wanda shouted, her voice breaking as she sent a red whip of magic towards the soldier's legs.

"She's locked completely in!"

Before the magic could reach the soldier, however, the soldier stepped into one of the black puddles and disappeared into it in a whisp of black smoke. Instantly, Wanda, Charles, Strange, and Bucky grouped together; back to back and looking around at the floors. The room was beginning to groan as if the building was shifting, and suddenly, the Soldier's hand shot out from one of the puddles and wrapped painfully around Bucky's ankle.

She was trying to pull him in, and Wanda quickly shot another red whip at her wrist. It wrapped tight, forcing the soldier to lose her grip only for the Soldier to snap it with brute force, shards of red magic cracking like glass.

“She’s not just locked in. She's in control here. We're fighting on her terms."

Charles stated as he watched the soldier's arm disappear back into the puddle, and Strange frowned heavily as he began to murmur.

"We need to flush her out. Wanda, can you cover the puddles?"

Wanda nodded and began to move furniture over the puddles, her eyes red and sweat pearling at her brow. She was starting to become fatigued, and Bucky shot his gaze to the only puddle left in the room that was in front of the Mind Chair. The black puddle bubbled, and the Soldier came crawling out with an annoyed growl.

Because of the fury that was running through the soldier, the mirror shards around the room began to flicker like water before showing different images.

One was of (Y/n) in the Mind Chair while in the process of being wiped, her screams echoing throughout the room. Another shard showed (Y/n) training with a gun in her hand, taking the gun apart and putting it back together as fast as she could. Another showed (Y/n) sobbing under ice water, writing with Rebecca, being raped by Rollins.

It was horrific and daunting, and Bucky had to shake his head to stay focused. Bucky gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand tall as he faced the Winter Soldier with a stoic expression.

"I'm not fighting you. You don't want to do this."

The soldier lunged at him, the murderous intent vivid as she raised a knife towards Bucky. Bucky, however, didn't raise his fists to continue fighting. Instead, Bucky grabbed onto her wrists and pushed back while hissing out roughly.

"This isn't who you are anymore."

His teeth were clenched, and Bucky locked eyes with the soldier despite the frost crusting her eyelashes.

"You know me. You know I've been where you are. I am where you are, but I got out, and you can too. You don't have to stay here!"

The soldier froze, but just for a second. Her eye twitched, a flickering echoing through them, and she lunged back before a gun materialized within her hand. It flickered and glitched; unstable, but it didn't matter to the soldier. Pointing it at Bucky, her voice was small; sounding almost muffled and distorted as she asked.

"Тогда почему мне все еще больно? Почему мне все еще так холодно?" (Then why do I still hurt? Why am I still so cold?)

Bucky's eyes softened, and he whispered to the soldier.

"Because just like me...you forgot the sunlight too...somewhere along the way, you forgot...but you told me that even if you forgot the sunlight, you wanted to remember that you chose to stand in it. Don't you remember?"

The soldier seemed to glitch a bit, a pained expression coming across her eyes, and the gun within her hand began to falter; shards of glass shooting out from the metal, and Bucky pushed forward.

"It's time to let her go."

The Winter Soldier shot her gaze up, an angry look on her face as she exclaimed.

"Отпустить? Отпустить? Те, кому нужно отпустить, это ты!" (Let go? Let go? The ones who need to let go are you!)

Suddenly, the ground split open beneath them; jagged edges tearing across the floor like veins. The lab twisted, warping into a horrendous medley of half-woods, half-cell; shards of every memory colliding into one another, spinning in the mirrors like a storm. Strange yelled a warning to Bucky, and the man brought his hands up to shield his face from the blistering cold wind.

"I can't do that."

Bucky shook his head, and the Soldier let out an angered cry, lunging at him again. Her movements, however, were desperate; sloppy and wild. She was leaving herself open, and Bucky grabbed onto her hands again. Instead of pushing back, however, Bucky embraced her tightly.

She began to yell, beating and thrashing against him as she continued to yell in Russian, and Bucky held onto her tightly, whispering.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I couldn't save you."

The soldier faltered for a moment, and she then bit down onto his shoulder harshly; teeth sinking in and blood bursting around the soldier's teeth. Bucky winced, but just held on as tightly as he could.

"I'm sorry that you never had the life that you wanted."

She was starting to tear at his skin, and Bucky grit his teeth in pain before he exclaimed.

"I'm sorry that I let you forget."

Tears filled Bucky's eyes as he whispered in pain before her teeth began to release his shoulder.

"Please...please don't leave me too."

The soldier was frozen, limp within his arms, and she cried softly.

"I don't know who I am anymore."

However, before Bucky could say anything more, the soldier's body slowly began to turn into dust; materializing into nothing. The mindscape slowly began to settle, the furniture no longer glitching, the mirror shards slowly retreating out of existence, and the room was no longer as freezing cold as it had been.

Just behind the Mind Chair, a cell door slowly opened up. However, Charles, Strange, and Wanda were all taking breathers as Bucky looked down at his hands that still held a few pieces of dust of the soldier; a solemn look on his face and the pain in his shoulder beginning to ebb up his neck.

The pain in the soldier's voice had been genuine, and Bucky was taken back to a time when he, too, was distraught over his inability to remember his life before HYDRA after reuniting Steve albeit with hostility.

Her eyes had held so much pain and grief that it had rattled him deeply. Clenching his fist, Bucky's nostrils flared and he took a deep breath, his voice rough as he stalked towards the cell door.

"We need to keep moving."

Wanda glanced at him, asking.

"Bucky, are you alright?"

Bucky paused for a moment before he answered.

"I just want to find her. If we stay here any longer, something else might happen. We don't know what Tony and the others have been able to accomplish yet. If they haven't been able to deactivate the failsafe, we're just sitting ducks and waiting for the next round."

Strange nodded a long, stating.

"Bucky's right. If we can reach (Y/n), then we might be able to have a better chance at subduing the Winter Soldier again if she reappears."

Charles hummed, nodding as his eyes glanced around the lab; watching as the last puddle of ink slowly disappeared into nothing.

"Yes, I agree. If we reach (Y/n) before another possible reactivation loop, then we might be able to break her free of the chains that bind her."

Wanda was quiet, subtly wiping her nose free of blood that had begun to trickle down; wincing slightly as she stumbled a bit. Strange glanced at her, concern in his eyes before he looked at Charles.

"If there is even a her left."

Charles gave Strange a disapproving look, but Strange didn't pay any attention to him. He was watching Bucky and the way his fists were clenched, his balance swaying slightly from the pain, and Strange pursed his lips into a thin line.

The trio began to follow after Bucky, and Bucky wasted no time in swinging the cell door open. Charles' eyes widened, and he stated quietly as he looked at the room.

"This...this is where I reached her."

Bucky shivered slightly at the freezing temperature of the room, frost and ice covering every surface. There were complete mirrors all around the room, some blackened and some covered with frost; obscuring the image within, and snow was falling down from the ceiling.

Bucky's breath left his chest as he laid eyes upon (Y/n), who was lying on her side and slowly being covered by the snow. A distant echo of the singing voice of Doris Day was gyrating around the room, and (Y/n)'s frostbitten lips were subtly mouthing the lyrics.

Bucky made his way towards (Y/n), and while he did, the snow and frost beneath his boots began to melt; lush green grass slowly starting to sprout. Bucky ran to the cell door of the cage, but when he tried to use his right hand to rip the cage door off, he yelped when bars burned him from how cold they were.

Instead, Bucky grabbed with his left arm and gave a loud yell as he single-handedly ripped the door from the hinges. The door embedded itself into the wall opposite of the cage; sinking into the concrete almost like putty.

Carefully, as gently as Bucky could, Bucky placed his arms around (Y/n) to slowly lift her up. The snow that was covering her body slowly began to melt from the warmth that was emitting from his body. His facial expression softened, relief coming over him before he became concerned again.

She seemed to be almost completely frozen, her body rock-solid despite the subtle movements of her lips, and Bucky was gentle as he brought her close; pulling her out of the cage. As Bucky enveloped her in his warmth, the frostbite began to slowly dissipate. Her breathing became more apparent, and when her body no longer felt as though it was in a state of rigor mortis, she became limp as Bucky held her close.

"(Y/n)?"

The ground beneath him was starting to sprout more grass; subtle sprigs of baby's breath sprouting around him, and (Y/n)'s eyes slowly fluttered for a moment. She looked exhausted, as if she had been sleeping for a long while, and when her tired eyes met Bucky's, (Y/n) whispered.

"Bucky?"

Bucky couldn't help but to let out a relieved little laugh, his eyes growing wet and nostrils flaring as he nodded down at her.

"Hey, beautiful. Gave me quite the scare there."

Slowly, the darkened room began to light up a bit; glimmers of light filtering over the walls as (Y/n) began to become a bit more aware. She relaxed in Bucky's hold a bit, resting her head against his shoulder as she spoke weakly.

"It got so cold...I couldn't...reach out. I couldn't stop it."

Bucky shushed her quietly, shaking his head as he brushed his hand over her cold cheek.

"I know. We all know. It's not your fault, baby girl."

His skin warmed her cheek up considerably, and (Y/n) seemed relieved to feel the warmth as she sniffled softly; gazing up at him.

"I just wanted to do what was right...I never meant to hurt anybody."

Bucky was firm as he stated, shaking her just the slightest for emphasis.

"It's okay. I'm here now."

(Y/n)'s eyes filled with tears, and she whispered to Bucky softly.

"I almost forgot you...I was terrified that I would never see you again."

Bucky swallowed a bubbling cry, whispering gently as he brushed his hand over her cheek again; cupping it gently.

"Nothing would ever keep me from reaching you. I'm here to stay, to help you remember...and if you forget, I'll remind you. However many times it takes, however long it takes."

As Bucky spoke, the frost on the mirrored walls began to weep, melting into rivulets that shimmered with the brightened sunlight. Grass bloomed further, and from the corners of the room, birdsong began to echo; faint, but growing. Within the melody of the birds, children's laughter began to whisper. (Y/n) sniffled softly before she looked up to Bucky.

"Can we go home?"

Bucky nodded, and through the fatigue, he picked her up bridal-style. As he turned around, the door that the group had gone through was now a familiar door engraved with Wakandan emblems; sleek with black and gold.

Familiar voices began to filter through the door: Steve's teasing tone, Natasha's gentle Russian, Clint's joking voice, Sam's motivational words, Thor's thunderous laugh, Peter's shy reminiscing, Tony's confident quips, Bruce's hesitant offers, Shuri's scientific lingo, and T'Challa's amused laughter.

As Bucky stepped toward the door, each footprint left behind not frost, but flowers. Baby’s breath, white lilies, yellow daisies; little blooming things where there once was snow. As the group approached, the Wakandan door opened on its own, releasing a warm breeze that smelled faintly of jasmine and ozone. The laughter grew louder, more real, and light engulfed the group as they finally made it out.

-

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[sashasspace]

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[starset21]

Furmidable Distraction |YT22|

Pairing: Yuki Tsunoda x reader

Summery: A sudden summer storm at Suzuka throws the paddock into chaos—and into your arms, a tiny, shivering black kitten. As hospitality scrambles to stay afloat, you find unexpected help in Yuki Tsunoda, who surprises you with quiet kindness and a soft spot for the stray. Together, you navigate rain-soaked golf carts, emergency tuna rations, and a new companion named Podium.

Standard disclaimer: I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may found is on tumblr or A03 under the same name. This is all fake. It does not reflect real people, real events or their actual actions or relationships. May contain google translated languages.

A/N: Still kinda riding the high of the notes on plot twist so here I am with a Yuki fic <3

The storm had come out of nowhere—typical Suzuka, everyone said.

One moment the sun was beating down relentlessly on the paddock, warming the asphalt and sending waves of heat rising into the humid air. The next, clouds rolled in dark and fast, and rain hammered the trackside with the sudden ferocity of a summer typhoon. Practice sessions ground to a halt, team members scrambled for cover, and umbrellas bloomed like black flowers in the chaotic downpour.

You were supposed to be coordinating hospitality, making sure VIP guests had umbrellas and snacks, keeping the chaos manageable. Instead, you found yourself crouched beside a puddle not far from the Red Bull hospitality, your jacket hood shielding a tiny, shivering black kitten who mewed desperately against your chest.

How it had gotten there, you had no idea. You weren’t much of a cat person, and yet, the kitten’s small, fragile cries cut through the noise and tension of the paddock. You wrapped it carefully in your hoodie, whispering soft reassurances you weren’t even sure you believed yourself.

“Hey.”

The voice startled you, low and rough.

You looked up to see Yuki Tsunoda rolling up in a golf cart, droplets of rain dripping from his hair plastered to his forehead. His usual scowl was softened by exhaustion, but his eyes were sharp, curious. He was dripping wet but didn’t seem to care.

“What are you doing?” he asked, nodding toward the kitten nestled against your chest.

You shrugged, cheeks warming despite the chill. “Found this guy just outside. Thought I’d... take care of him?”

Yuki blinked, then sighed—a long, exaggerated sigh full of something close to amusement. “Come on,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t know anything about cats, but I can’t leave him out here.”

He pulled the golf cart closer and helped you gently transfer the kitten into a small cardboard box you’d found near the garbage bins. The kitten wriggled in protest but stayed nestled between your hands. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching too closely—a mix of embarrassment and genuine concern flickering behind his eyes.

“Let’s get him somewhere dry,” he added.

You climbed onto the golf cart next to him, the box balanced carefully on your lap. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but the humid air still clung to your skin. As Yuki maneuvered the cart through the paddock, you noticed how his usually sharp gaze softened every time he glanced at the kitten.

“We can take him to my driver’s room,” Yuki offered, his voice low but steady. “It’s small, but it’s warm. And dry.”

You nodded gratefully, surprised by the unexpected kindness.

Yuki swiped his card and opened the door to the drivers’ rooms—sleek, functional spaces decorated with racing gear and team memorabilia.

Inside, Yuki set the box on the floor carefully, crouching down to check on the kitten. The little creature peeked out, its wide eyes blinking up at him with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“You think he’s hungry?” Yuki asked, scratching the back of his neck, clearly out of his element but genuinely concerned.

You nodded. “Probably. I don’t know much about kittens, but they need food and warmth.”

Yuki pulled out his phone with a small sigh. “Well, I guess I’m asking Max for help.”

He typed quickly, then showed you the message: “Hey, Max. Random question — what do you feed a kitten if you find one in the paddock?”

Within seconds, his phone buzzed with a reply.

Max: Haha, only you would find a kitten during a GP weekend. Kitten formula or wet food. And definitely keep him away from the energy drinks.

You smiled when Yuki told you, feeling lighter despite the dampness clinging to your clothes. “Well, we don’t have kitten formula around here,” you said, glancing around the room. “But maybe we can find something else.”

Yuki stood and started pacing the small room. “Wait here,” he said, already heading out the door.

You heard the soft click of the door closing behind him and waited, the kitten twitching its tiny paws inside the box. A few minutes later, Yuki returned, holding a small can of tuna he’d scrounged from a nearby hospitality fridge. “Not ideal,” he admitted, “but it’s food.”

You helped him open the can carefully, then took a dampened corner of a napkin to offer the kitten a small taste. The little black furball sniffed cautiously before lapping up the tuna eagerly.

Yuki crouched beside you, watching with a rare softness in his eyes. “Looks like someone’s happy. We should give him a name.”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Podium.”

Yuki laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Podium it is. Because he fought through the rain just like a real racer.”

You smiled, a brief, genuine moment that felt like a secret shared between the three of you.

As Podium settled in, licking his little paws contentedly, the two of you exchanged a look — the unexpected companionship of a tiny kitten somehow making the chaotic weekend feel a little more grounded.

Outside, the rain had finally thinned to a soft mist, leaving streaks on the window and a damp hush over the paddock. Inside, it was quiet—save for the soft, satisfied licking of tiny kitten paws and the occasional creak of the driver’s room settling under the weight of the storm.

You and Yuki sat side by side on the floor, backs resting against the wall. Neither of you spoke for a few long moments. Podium curled into a ball in the box, full and finally warm, a quiet rise and fall to his tiny body.

“I didn’t think today would end like this,” Yuki said, breaking the silence.

You glanced at him, his gaze still fixed on the kitten. “Me neither. I thought I’d be handing out champagne flutes and shielding VIPs from the rain.”

He smirked. “And now you’re babysitting a stray with me.”

“It’s an upgrade,” you said with a small laugh. “Podium’s much better company.”

Yuki chuckled under his breath, then leaned his head back against the bed with a sigh. “I kind of needed this.”

You turned to him, brows raised. “A kitten?”

“A quiet moment,” he clarified. “No cameras, no engineers buzzing in my ear, no pressure. Just…” He gestured vaguely toward the box. “This.”

Your smile softened. “It’s kind of nice, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “You’re kind of nice.”

You blinked, caught off guard. But Yuki didn’t look away. His expression was still casual, still Yuki, but the words hung in the air between you like something more deliberate. Something... honest.

“Well,” you said, cheeks warming slightly, “so are you.”

Podium stirred, letting out a tiny sneeze that broke the moment just enough for both of you to laugh. You reached down and adjusted the hoodie still lining the bottom of the box.

Yuki nudged your arm gently with his elbow. “I mean, I didn’t expect to have a cat, either. Or company. But... it’s not bad.”

You nudged him back. “Glad I made the cut.”

Another small silence. Not awkward—just full of something unspoken.

Then Yuki stood, stretching his arms overhead with a groan. “I should probably change out of these wet clothes before I catch a cold.”

You stood too, brushing your hands on your jeans. “And I should probably check back in with the hospitality team before they think I got washed away in the storm.”

Yuki nodded, then glanced back at the kitten. “Will you come back later? Podium might need his favorite person.”

You hesitated for half a beat, but your answer was easy. “Yeah,” you said. “I’ll come back.”

And for a second—just a second—Yuki looked like he wanted to say something else. But instead, he just smiled, small and genuine.

“Good.”

~

On race day, the sun shone bright over Suzuka, the humid air thick with anticipation. Yuki’s focus was sharp, the weight of the crowd pressing on him. When the race ended, he finished strong but not on the top step. You waited in the hospitality area, the crowd’s cheers fading into the background. Suddenly, Yuki was there, approaching you with a quiet determination in his eyes.

“I wanted to say...” he started, voice low and steady, “thank you. For everything. For Podium, for the weekend... for being here.”

You smiled softly, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “It was my pleasure.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his.

“I don’t want this to be just Suzuka. I want to see you again.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I want that too,” you admitted.

Yuki’s hand squeezed yours, warm and steady.

“Good. Then let’s start with dinner. And maybe Podium can come too.”

You laughed, the tension of the week melting away like the final laps of a race.

[artsekey]

I'd been seeing videos on Tiktok and Youtube about how younger Gen Z & Gen Alpha were demonstrating low computer literacy & below benchmark reading & writing skills, but-- like with many things on the internet-- I assumed most of what I read and watched was exaggerated. Hell, even if things were as bad as people were saying, it would be at least ~5 years before I started seeing the problem in higher education.

I was very wrong.

Of the many applications I've read this application season, only %6 percent demonstrated would I would consider a college-level mastery of language & grammar. The students writing these applications have been enrolled in university for at least two years, and have taken all fundamental courses. This means they've had classes dedicated to reading, writing, and literature analysis, and yet!

There are sentences I have to read over and over again to discern intent. Circular arguments that offer no actual substance. Errors in spelling and capitalization that spellcheck should've flagged.

At a glance, it's easy to trace this issue back to two things:

The state of education in the United States is abhorrent. Instructors are not paid enough, so schools-- particularly public schools-- take whatever instructors they can find.

COVID. The two year long gap in education, especially in high school, left many students struggling to keep up.

But I think there's a third culprit-- something I mentioned earlier in this post. A lack of computer literacy.

This subject has been covered extensively by multiple news outlets like the Washington Post and Raconteur, but as someone seeing it firsthand I wanted to add my voice to the rising chorus of concerned educators begging you to pay attention.

As the interface we use to engage with technology becomes more user friendly, the knowledge we need to access our files, photos, programs, & data becomes less and less important. Why do I need to know about directories if I can search my files in Windows (are you searching in Windows? Are you sure? Do you know what that bar you're typing into is part of? Where it's looking)? Maybe you don't have any files on your computer at all-- maybe they're on the cloud through OneDrive, or backed up through Google. Some of you reading this may know exactly where and how your files are stored. Many of you probably don't, and that's okay. For most people, being able to access a file in as short a time as possible is what they prioritize.

The problem is, when you as a consumer are only using a tool, you are intrinsically limited by the functions that tool is advertised to have. Worse yet, when the tool fails or is insufficient for what you need, you have no way of working outside of that tool. You'll need to consult an expert, which is usually expensive.

When you as a consumer understand a tool, your options are limitless. You can break it apart and put it back together in just the way you like, or you can identify what parts of the tool you need and search for more accessible or affordable options that focus more on your specific use-case.

The problem-- and to be clear, I do not blame Gen Z & Gen Alpha for what I'm about to outline-- is that this user-friendly interface has fostered a culture that no longer troubleshoots. If something on the computer doesn't work well, it's the computer's fault. It's UI should be more intuitive, and it it's not operating as expected, it's broken. What I'm seeing more and more of is that if something's broken, students stop there. They believe there's nothing they can do. They don't actively seek out solutions, they don't take to Google, they don't hop on Reddit to ask around; they just... stop. The gap in knowledge between where they stand and where they need to be to begin troubleshooting seems to wide and inaccessible (because the fundamental structure of files/directories is unknown to many) that they don't begin.

This isn't demonstrative of a lack of critical thinking, but without the drive to troubleshoot the number of opportunities to develop those critical thinking skills are greatly diminished. How do you communicate an issue to someone online? How do look for specific information? How do you determine whether that information is specifically helpful to you? If it isn't, what part of it is? This process fosters so many skills that I believe are at least partially linked to the ability to read and write effectively, and for so many of my students it feels like a complete non-starter.

We need basic computer classes back in schools. We need typing classes, we need digital media classes, we need classes that talk about computers outside of learning to code. Students need every opportunity to develop critical thinking skills and the ability to self-reflect & self correct, and in an age of misinformation & portable technology, it's more important now than ever.

[fabaulti]

I think most of us should take the whole ai scraping situation as a sign that we should maybe stop giving google/facebook/big corps all our data and look into alternatives that actually value your privacy.

i know this is easier said than done because everybody under the sun seems to use these services, but I promise you it’s not impossible. In fact, I made a list of a few alternatives to popular apps and services, alternatives that are privacy first, open source and don’t sell your data.

right off the bat I suggest you stop using gmail. it’s trash and not secure at all. google can read your emails. in fact, google has acces to all the data on your account and while what they do with it is already shady, I don’t even want to know what the whole ai situation is going to bring. a good alternative to a few google services is skiff. they provide a secure, e3ee mail service along with a workspace that can easily import google documents, a calendar and 10 gb free storage. i’ve been using it for a while and it’s great.

a good alternative to google drive is either koofr or filen. I use filen because everything you upload on there is end to end encrypted with zero knowledge. they offer 10 gb of free storage and really affordable lifetime plans.

google docs? i don’t know her. instead, try cryptpad. I don’t have the spoons to list all the great features of this service, you just have to believe me. nothing you write there will be used to train ai and you can share it just as easily. if skiff is too limited for you and you also need stuff like sheets or forms, cryptpad is here for you. the only downside i could think of is that they don’t have a mobile app, but the site works great in a browser too.

since there is no real alternative to youtube I recommend watching your little slime videos through a streaming frontend like freetube or new pipe. besides the fact that they remove ads, they also stop google from tracking what you watch. there is a bit of functionality loss with these services, but if you just want to watch videos privately they’re great.

if you’re looking for an alternative to google photos that is secure and end to end encrypted you might want to look into stingle, although in my experience filen’s photos tab works pretty well too.

oh, also, for the love of god, stop using whatsapp, facebook messenger or instagram for messaging. just stop. signal and telegram are literally here and they’re free. spread the word, educate your friends, ask them if they really want anyone to snoop around their private conversations.

regarding browser, you know the drill. throw google chrome/edge in the trash (they really basically spyware disguised as browsers) and download either librewolf or brave. mozilla can be a great secure option too, with a bit of tinkering.

if you wanna get a vpn (and I recommend you do) be wary that some of them are scammy. do your research, read their terms and conditions, familiarise yourself with their model. if you don’t wanna do that and are willing to trust my word, go with mullvad. they don’t keep any logs. it’s 5 euros a month with no different pricing plans or other bullshit.

lastly, whatever alternative you decide on, what matters most is that you don’t keep all your data in one place. don’t trust a service to take care of your emails, documents, photos and messages. store all these things in different, trustworthy (preferably open source) places. there is absolutely no reason google has to know everything about you.

do your own research as well, don’t just trust the first vpn service your favourite youtube gets sponsored by. don’t trust random tech blogs to tell you what the best cloud storage service is — they get good money for advertising one or the other. compare shit on your own or ask a tech savvy friend to help you. you’ve got this.

[chattingwithmodels]

Google Gen AI SDK, Gemini Developer API, and Python 3.13

A Technical Overview and Compatibility Analysis 🧠 TL;DR – Google Gen AI SDK + Gemini API + Python 3.13 Integration 🚀 🔍 Overview Google’s Gen AI SDK and Gemini Developer API provide cutting-edge tools for working with generative AI across text, images, code, audio, and video. The SDK offers a unified interface to interact with Gemini models via both Developer API and Vertex AI 🌐. 🧰 SDK…

[manjaro-official]

the fact that ChromeOS Guys™ exist should be unsurprising but it's still so fucked up. what do you mean 'vt2 gives you all the capability of linux' 'desktop linux is so unstable and bad and sucks so much & Google made it into a functional OS' 'REAL DEVS don't need powerful laptops and are dependent on cloud services' ??????? how are you real.

[mrrainys]

some of my personal head canons since I realized I haven’t done this yet:

pidge and shiro are left handed, hunk and allura are right handed and keith and lance are ambidextrous

shiro was born in tokyo but moved to seattle when he was 5 because his aunt died and his family wanted to start somewhere new.

allura is really good at pottery

hunk is afraid of spiders and doesn’t understand how lance could easily move one from the wall without rethinking his housing options

lance has an american accent because he used to consume a lot of american media, one day he pulled up to a family function and talked to his extended family from america with their accent and they were bamboozled and he’s like “you guys talk you have clouds in your throat and a rainbow that stretches your words wide it’s not that hard”

coran met alfor in a library and had the most cliche rom com experience

lotor used to be a dancer

matt is allergic to peanuts

keith being from texas is a running joke among the paladins after multiple ppl (usually folks with basic googled knowledge of the paladins) kept making that mistake due to a rumor about his dad being named Texas; he’s actually from phoenix arizona ☝️🤓

allura’s mother is named layan and she was born into royalty, Alfor married into the family.

alfor and honerva have known each other since they could walk (they were childhood friends <33)

adam is a guy who knows exactly what he wants but unfortunately he has the most scattered brain ever so he’s very messy in terms of paperwork

shiro met pidge when he went over to their house during one winter break and she instantly liked him bc he coincidently brought over her favorite game for them to play

hunk tried to make a communication system for them to contact to their parents which ended up backfiring so he made a camera and started recording each new dish he learned as sort of a file to show his parents

Lance and Shiro used to stay up (back when voltron was so new) because neither of them could sleep. Lance always bumped into Shiro while he was training and he talked to him until he fell asleep. (back at home he always used to sleep around noise and it wasn’t until they settled down and finally processed they’re away from home did his room start to sound too quiet so him being near Shiro beating a mannequins ass helps a little bit.)

speaking of which shiro never actually used to actively talk to the paladins unless it’s for training or anything related to voltron, other than that he was just politely greeted them whenever they bumped into each other, and lance was one of the paladins he really got to know

pidge loves to randomly scare ppl by standing near a door and waiting for them or just popping out of no where and start info dumping

the lions used to be an ancient galran spirit that split into 5 (each with their own personality and mind) due to mysterious reasons (the closest answer being daibazaal becoming unstable) and with the help of altean magic and a trans reality comet alfor created voltron.

allura has always looked up to honerva everytime she came over suddenly allura is doing all the house work instead of the housekeepers and she’s begging her dad to let her use the observatory so she can show honerva her knowledge about the outside world (she is NOT sheltered :((( she doesn’t understand why her friends say that…) alfor doesn’t get it HE can do everything honerva can do and he cries about it to the paladins.

Hunk has a scar on his foot that he got because he fell out of a tree once

James and Keith had the most obnoxiously loud rivalry ever like the adults in their life push it to make them hate each other (bc they had beef with keith and tried to make him look as bad as possible) and it failed miserably bc it just ended up making their interactions the most oddly gay thing to witness they could be in class and next thing you know they’re in each other’s faces whispering a little too loudly and the whole class is like …. ???? side eyeing them

Lance has dated like one girl back in elementary school and they got married near a tree

shiro met adam through matt

pidge is into Minecraft there’s something about her that screams Minecraft or honestly Zelda

Coran was in a boy band for 5 years and died of embarrassment when he found out Alfor knew some of their songs (he started playing one and coran just saw his life flash before his eyes)

one day coran is talking to allura and he leads her to his room and he’s rambling about his legacy or something and she just stops to stare at his wall. The wall that has that gay ass portrait of him and Alfor and (she doesn’t have any photos of her family since they didn’t have time to pack) she’s like… now…. I could’ve just gone to YOUR room this entire time ….

pidge has the worst period cramps and will dramatically fall onto the ground anytime it hits. They’re in the middle of talking about a plan and she’s screams scaring the shit out of everyone

kolivan had a kid who died because the empire targeted him and he’s very protective of the younger members. he sees a lot of his kid in keith

allura has always wanted a sibling or at least a friend that has a lot more in common with her to play with when she’s away from school friends so when she found out zarkon and honerva were a thing whenever she came over she’d specifically tell Zarkon to not fumble this for her and he’s like “wdym for you…?” and she stares at him scaring him a little.

lance’s favorite thing was going to the beach when he was younger and since allura was learning some things about earth the first thing he did when coming home was show allura to the beach

zarkon has always wanted a girl and honerva wanted a boy instead of those gender reveal parties they asked black (the black lion) for a third opinion and whatever black said would end up happening.

they did tell allura when honerva was pregnant to protect and look out for the future baby whenever they’re not around and she cartoonishly was like “i thought you’d never ask don’t worry!! we can be the new generation of paladins together!!” Alfor is just giggling bc she’s so cute and zarkon is like “that’s not how that work-☝️😕“ and honerva is shushes him with a “let her have fun.” and zarkon is like “ykw hell yeah you seem like blue lion material.” and that’s not because her energy is giving the blue paladin. (It is)

lotor had a reverse emo faze and was more of a disney princess. Bro definitely sang through those empty ass halls

Pidge’s family is from California

shsjskssjks lmk if you want more I have like a ton for each character if there are any typos ignore them

[the960writers]

Do you think it's a good idea to try and get away from Google Docs when it comes to writing? I really can't afford any other fancy program to write my drafts in, and it honestly seems like the easiest - not to mention, most convenient - program to use to share my manuscript with beta readers. I could use advice on this matter because I keep seeing things across the net about it being a bad place to work on writing, but I have no idea what to turn to to make things easy for me and my future beta readers.

This is such a good question. Thank you.

So, a little backstory. Ever since Google removed their motto "do no evil" they have gone down the rather predictable path of all big players of the rot economy: putting profits over user experience.

A little while back, there was rumor that Google trains AI with the content of google docs, then they said they don't really, they only scan the content and do nothing with it, and then they started blocking access to documents with sexy images. Do we believe that Google has our own best interest at heart? That's something everyone has to decide for themselves.

Back then, I made a post with alternatives for Google Docs, you can find it here, also check the reblogs for more options:

Now, is it a good idea to switch from google docs? I think it is, but I'm also not consistent with it. As you mentioned, it seems to be the easiest to share writing with beta readers, and I also still often use it for fanfiction.

But there are alternatives, and they require very little adjustment in the process. Let me give you two free options.

Ellipsus is webbased, meaning you can write in it in the browser on any device. They have sharing, specifically for beta reading, and an export function for AO3.

Reedsy (marketplace around everything self-publishing) has an editor. It is webbased, and they also have an option for sharing with beta readers. This software is aimed at book type-setting and exporting but it works just fine for copying to web.

Personally, I'm currently switching everything to LibreOffice (also free!) files in some cloud connected folder. I used to do a lot of mobile writing on my phone with a bluetooth keyboard but currently, I'm taking my laptop everywhere so LibreOffice works great for me. If I have to use my phone or tablet for some lightweight mobile writing, on vacation for instance, I can still use something webbased.

So, I hope I gave you some interesting options. Do I think it's a good idea to make us less dependent on Google? Yes, I do. I don't trust them.

We have alternatives, and they cost us nothing more than a little adjustment.

~ barbex

[plussizeappreciationfics]

Just the assistant...?

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Plus sized reader

Summary: [Y/N], Tom's personal assistant knows that she shouldn't have fallen in love with her employer but she just couldn't help herself. When she thinks that her biggest wish is about to come true, a third party arrives and makes her question whether she'd ever have a chance to escape her situation and simply be loved back by the person she loves the most...

Warning(s): NSFW, sex scene

Picture(s) found on: Pinterest/Google

Chapter four: Still riding on that high

It was late in the evening and (Y/N) was sitting on her couch. She already had eaten dinner and was currently letting her mind roam with all sorts of thoughts as she was still overwhelmed and so happy about the beautiful kiss she had shared with Tom.

After she had left to go grocery shopping, the assistant had barely been able to act decent. The taste of Tom`s soft lips, the softness of them along with his wonderful scent mixed with his cologne had left the woman floating on cloud nine. She ended up forgetting to buy half of the ingredients she needed on her list as she had realized that her world had now completely changed.

"He´s in love with me", (Y/N) whispered to herself, a content smile lingering on her beautiful face as the realization hit her. Her lonely days were finally over, the days where she was on the brink of crying herself to sleep because she craved the touch of another human being who loved her, appreciated her and saw her as the beautiful and desirable woman she is.

Too many times had she imagined what it would be like to end up falling asleep in Tom`s arms, have his soft breath linger over her shoulder as she´d rest her head on his broad chest and listen to his steady heartbeat. Have him moan her name as he´d be buried so deep in between her legs, that they´d shake at the intense feeling.

(Y/N) closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath, her heartbeat was starting to increase and she could feel the adrenaline and lust slowly pump through her body as she was now yearning for Tom.

ding dong

"Saved by the bell" the assistant chuckled as she immediately shot up and made her way to the front door, relieved that that thought was now being placed back into the corner of her mind, where it belonged.

It took her a few seconds to unlock the door and be greeted by Tom standing there in a pair of grey sweats and a random black shirt.

"Good evening, (Y/N)", he greeted her while a wide grin slowly crept up on his face, making him even look more handsome than he already was. (Y/N)´s heart skipped a beat while she greeted him back and took a step aside to welcome the actor into her home, the place he already knew like the back of his hand.

Tom immediately got comfortable on the couch and patted the empty spot next to him while smiling at his assistant. His heart was pounding in his chest, he was excited and just happy to be back in her space. He had missed her very much and after the passionate kiss they had shared, the man was left craving for more and had been barely able to function. Hence, why he had taken it upon himself to visit the beautiful woman he couldn´t get enough from.

(Y/N) took a seat next to Tom and they immediately fell into one another´s arms, heavy sighs leaving both of their lips. The way the almost lovers held each other tightly made it very clear that the mood had shifted and something fresh and exciting was creeping through the air.

"Kiss me" (Y/N) pleaded while her head was nuzzled in the crook of Tom´s neck. She inhaled his wonderful scent one last time before moving her head so that the actor could immediately kiss her, which he did without hesitation. Both of them moaned while Tom´s tongue smoothly slid out of his mouth and tapped (Y/N)´s bottom lip, asking for permission to be welcomed in her mouth.

The permission was granted within seconds, making her head spin as her body was starting to react to the whole situation. Her nipples started to harden and press against her shirt, craving to be held, sucked on and gently tugged at.

Tom´s cock was already hard and throbbing, pressing against his underwear as it was yearning to be buried deep in (Y/N). "Words cannot describe how much I am burning for you", the actor huffed in between the long, French kisses. He gently pushed his assistant against the couch so that she was lying comfortably on her back, her big thighs already apart so that he could position himself in between her legs.

"I´m right here, just take me then" (Y/N) moaned, feeling Tom´s hard cock now gently rubbing up and down her clothed vagina. She didn´t need to open her eyes and check whether she was aroused as she felt the hot wetness already having drenched her underwear.

"I´m on birth control, just take me Tom" she begged before quickly getting rid of her shirt and wiggling herself out of the rest of her clothes. The actor copied her actions while his eyes couldn´t stop roaming all over her beautiful body. His cock hardening even more.

"Look at you, you´re perfect" he gushed while stroking himself, his head almost starting to spin due to the fact that he had never been this aroused in his life, had never craved a woman´s body so much that he was on the verge of just melting away and the simple sight of (Y/N)´s body.

She opened her legs and gave him a welcoming glance at her vagina, glistening with arousal and making it look even more desirable than ever. She cupped one of her breast and gently pinched the nipple, urgently needing some sort of release. Tom instantly shook his head before getting comfortable in between her legs again, leaning down so that his mouth was perfectly aligned with her left breast.

The man instantly took the nipple in his mouth and moaned while sucking on it, his other hand massaging and gently tucking on her right breast, his hips gently grinding his hard cock against her vagina.

The almost lovers moaned desperately, their bodies hungering for one another.

"Look at me" Tom whispered, finally having released the nipples and focusing on the most important thing. (Y/N) looked at him and smiled, making his heart flutter in his chest. He aligned himself at her entrance and smoothly pushed in, all while keeping the intense eye contact.

(Y/N) couldn´t help but whimper as she finally felt Tom entering her, his cock stretched in her inner walls out to the max and that feeling alone was indescribable. He went so deep until he couldn´t go further, the tip of his cock already leaking a few precum drops.

"Please, just please...." (Y/N) cried out as she instantly got addicted to the astonishing sensations. She couldn´t help but slowly grind her hips while placing her hands on Tom´s broad shoulders, her eyes clenched shut.

Her wished came true as the actor didn´t hesitate for a second and instantly started to move his hips, cussing in between every thrust as he couldn´t fathom the intense motions rushing through his body. That man was a trembling mess while forcing himself to not chase his high, this moment was too good to be selfish.

He quickly adjusted himself so that (Y/N) ankles were placed on his shoulders, the new position making her gasp loudly and let out a loud cry of pleasure as that man had found deeper spot inside of her. He weakly looked down at her crunched up face and felt a wave of pride and love overwhelm him.

"Take it", he whispered before snapping his hips sharply, almost screaming at the new sensation. (Y/N) couldn´t help but scream too as her head was now spinning, she felt the pleasure take over her body mind and soul, her toes were curled and her breathing came out in short, sharp puffs of air as the woman was being pushed towards the blissful edge.

Tom´s cock was rubbing against her sweet spot with every thrust, making the lovers break out in sweat while the couch moved along with their passionate love making. (Y/N) threw hear head back and clung onto Tom´s shoulders. A delicious knot forming in the pit of her stomach.

"I know my love, I can feel it" the actor cooed sweetly, making his assistant choke back on a another moan while her body started to tremble. I´m so close, I don´t want this to ever stop, she thought to herself while her cries became more desperate by the second. The noises that were being created in between her legs were so nasty, it turned her on even more.

(Y/N) felt the knot becoming tighter by the second, she knew shew as nearing the edge and felt more than ready to be catapulted into the abyss of pure please and ecstasy.

ding dong

The sound of the doorbell made the lovers freeze on the spot while both of their eyes shot open. They both looked at each other with a panicked look, their heavy breathing echoing through the whole living room.

ding dong

the door rang again, making Tom slowly slip out of his lover and quickly help her get on her feet, their clothes being thrown back on as none of them spoke.

(Y/N) tried to catch her breath while she shakily made her way towards the front door, already missing Tom´s cock in between her legs. She already had gotten addicted to him.

She cleared her throat and opened the door before gasping in surprise.

"Zawe, what are you doing here?

Zawe stood there with an uneasy look on her face as she had scanned (Y/N) features and immediately knew what had been going on, she had seen Tom´s car parked outside and now felt like crying.

"Tom and I kissed this afternoon, I couldn´t shake the feeling that there´s something going on between the two of you. I made the the stupid decision to follow my intuition and it lead me here".

The two woman stared at one another, glances of jealousy, anger and betrayal flashing between the two of them as they were not ready to face reality. The aching pain both of them felt in their chest made it hard for them to make the first approach of starting the next conversation.

Tom was now standing behind (Y/N), confessing that Zawe´s statement was the truth and apologizing to both women. His words felt like daggers to the heart as Zawe huffed in disappointment and shook her head, tears brimming her eyes as she was so furious but determined to get what she wanted. And that was Tom.

(Y/N) looked between the both of them, tears also brimming her eyes as she felt like throwing up, just a few minutes ago her dream was becoming true and now a nightmare had appeared.

"i am ready to fight for you Tom, I know you felt something during the kiss and this is why I am standing here. I will fight for my love".

(Y/N) let out a shaky sigh as she looked at Tom. he was starting wide eyed at his colleague, a mix of shock and excitement clouding his beautiful. She gently pushed him towards Zawe before closing the door.

Taglist:

@ctrlszn l @baggyfaggy l @automaticdelusionstudent l @thefemfem l @ah-blossom l @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes

-Emma