#the translation is good but it doesn't feel the same

[theirisianprincess]

Something that really annoys me is that whenever there's an ambiguous depiction of queerness in fiction is that whenever an alternative explanation is given, certain people will assume the alternative to be true despite queerness being just as likely. These explanations aren't even necessarily wrong, it's just that people will run with those if it means not acknowledging that characters might be gay.

Like, for example, they never outright say that Marcille loves Falin, but a lot of people (myself included) believe this to be the case. But the fact that an alternative explanation for their closeness is provided is often used as a reason why it couldn't possibly be romantic. The alternative explanation in this case is that learning that her best friend got eaten forces her to confront her fear of outliving her friends. And that motivates her to try to save her. The problem with this is that it doesn't actually disprove the idea that Marcille loves Falin. Marcille loving Falin is just more motivation for Marcille. And sure, Marcille could be just as motivated if she thought of Falin as her platonic bestie, but why do people use the possibility of that as a reason to discount romance as a possible motivation for her?

Anime fans did the exact same thing with Madoka Magica. They cite Homura's solitude as the reason for her obsession with saving Madoka. But once again, that doesn't contradict romantic attraction. And when it gets confirmed that Homura loves Madoka (and that Sayaka and Kyoko love each other) in Rebellion, people just claimed "fan pandering" and "translation error".

And when an alternative explanation isn't provided, some anime fans will provide one for them. Like, in Watamote, Asuka constantly tries to get closer and closer with Tomoko. Some people suspect that this means she has romantic interest in Tomoko, but others choose to interpret her interest as curiosity and intrigue. Except curiosity doesn't explain the lap pillows or the nude FaceTime or offering her boobs to her or wanting to go to the same college or saying she spends most of her time thinking about Tomoko.

Would this problem be fixed if characters just said they were queer? No.

Dungeon Meshi is complete, so they won't confirm or deny Marcille's feelings. And Homura, Sayaka, and Kyoko had all been confirmed queer, but people still denied it. And Asuka has good reasons not to admit her feelings for Tomoko. Most notably, the world of Watamote is incredibly heteronormative, so people generally won't admit to being queer. And despite Tomoko being in a glass closet, she still doesn't even admit her bisexuality to herself, so it makes sense for Asuka to hold off on telling her anything. I would like Asuka to admit her feelings by the end, but as we are right now, it's better that she doesn't.

Insisting that we must always immediately confirm queerness and that it can never be ambiguous because some people will run with any chance to deny it will greatly limit the kinds of stories that can be told.

[aihoshiino]

Da Vinci Magazine Jan. 2024: A Q&A with Ai of B-Komachi!

In the January 2024 issue of Da Vinci magazine, there was an in-character interview with Ai as written by Aka Akasaka that you can read a translation of here! What I forgot to mention on that initial post is that there was also a little lightning round Q&A the original anon didn't translate at the time. Thankfully, they did post it and I just... completely forgot it existed until now. ;9 Shout out to past me who remembered to save it and kept me from having to dig thru the 4chan archives for it...

Unlike the original interview, this is my translation! So any goofs and gaffes are entirely on me lol. This is also totally spoiler safe, so you can read both this Q&A and the original interview no matter what point you are in the series.

Get to Know Ai Better! Q&A Session

Q. What motto do you live by?

A. I really like "Tomorrow is a new day." I'm one of those people who forgets all their worries after a good nights' sleep. (laughs)

Q. Tell us how you refresh yourself!

A. I like taking naps on my days off. I was saying earlier that I forget my worries once I've gotten some sleep but with this job, it can be hard to find the time to actually do it. Not just that, but lately I've been waking up in the night to take care of this and that, so when I do have the time to sleep, I really conk out.

Q. What is your routine on days off?

A. I wake up, prep some milk… oh, um - I like cornflakes so I always need milk for breakfast. Then I go for a nap (laughs). I know some of the other B-Komachi members like going to beauty salons or nail salons, but I don't do nails and I let my hair grow out so I'm usually just at home (laughs). I even cut my own bangs! I've been doing it for years so I'm pretty good at it. I've even cut other peoples' hair once or twice, though not anyone in B-Komachi.

Q. Your 20th birthday's coming up soon. What are you looking forward to doing once it arrives?

A. I want to try drinking alcohol. The president of my agency keeps saying, "I can't wait to have a drink with you!" He makes it sound like a lot of fun, so I'm curious to know what getting tipsy's like.

Q. What book left the biggest impression on you this year?

A. It's a manga, but I was moved to tears by "I'll Go With Sweet Today". The heroine is a girl who distrusts people and develops anorexia, becoming terrified of eating… I have a bit of that in me too, though not quite to the same extent she does, so I could really relate to her and her journey to recovery really moved me. If there's ever a live-action version, I'd love to play her!

Q: What would you like to do after the Dome concert?

A: I'd like to go on a trip or something. Where would be nice... Oh, I've heard of 'Mito Natto' before, so maybe Mito!

Q: What's something a fan said that made you happy?

A. You know, I didn't used to read any fan letters at all. But there was a time I was getting tired of being an idol and I was planning to quit, so the president made me sit down and read all the letters I'd gotten. That was the first time I'd ever realized just how much support I was getting and it made me go "in that case, I'll give them all my love and support in return!". I even wrote a song about it. So now I treasure all the letters and words I get from my fans. I actually got a gift from a fan recently, some 'star sand'. It was really beautiful and my real name "star" in it, it made me really happy. I've still got it displayed in my room.

Q: What is "true love" to you?

A. I guess if I had to sum it up, I'd say true love is being a genius who doesn't lie. I think maybe people lie to avoid lying. I'm not sure if that's a good answer and even I don't know if it makes sense, but it's just something I feel.

Q: Do you think you're a liar?

A: Hmm~~? That's a se~cret! (laughs)

[genericpuff]

When it comes to a drawing tablet do you recommend a beginner get one with a screen or one without specifically for webcomics?

So what you use the tablet for ultimately doesn't matter. Webcomics, illustration, animation, they're just different expressions of the same overall skillset. I've gone from using desk tablets to screen tablets and then back to desk tablets again. My current setup is a Huion Inspiroy Giano which is a very large desk tablet (no screen) with a Huion Kamvas 22 Plus as my display (screen).

(hi jim lol)

Now this obviously seems INCREDIBLY redundant but the reason why it's like that is because I used to use the Huion Kamvas 22 Plus as my screen tablet... until the pen input stopped working :)""" But it still works perfectly fine as a display! When I was shopping around for new drawing tablets though, I wasn't sure if I wanted to take the financial risk on another screen tablet. The Huions are a lot cheaper than the Wacom models which is great for people looking for inexpensive options, but if it meant I'd have to replace my screen tablets more often than my old Wacom Cintiq, then it wasn't gonna be worth it (but I didn't want to dump $2k on a tablet again LOL)

So I wound up getting a desk tablet instead! I had used Wacom desk tablets a lot prior to screens, and while it had been a few years, I re-adjusted in no time. The Huion Inspiroy Giano is, so far, a very reliable tablet. It just connects with a USB, no crazy 3-in-1 cables like the screen displays. It satisfies my need for a large tablet (seriously, if I can offer any piece of advice in regards to tablets, size does often matter because if a tablet is too small you'll be over-relying on your wrist for motions which isn't good for line integrity or your hand health!!!!) but it didn't break my budget like the Wacom tablets (and didn't feel as risky as buying another Kamvas 22 Plus after what happened the last time).

The only downside to it is that it has a bit of a rough surface to it which I find does a lot of initial wearing down on the nibs. I mean fr look at this thing-

And that will happen after only like, a few hours of use LOL that said, I've been using this nib for like 2 months now and it hasn't worn down more than that, so if you don't mind your nibs having a visible slant to them, it really doesn't cause any other issues.

That said, I've only had this tablet for about half a year now. I also used to sing praises for the Kamvas 22 Plus until it suddenly decided it wasn't going to work anymore without explanation, so... take my review of the Inspiroy Giano with grains of salt. At least though if this thing mysteriously stops working like the Kamvas did, I'll only have to pay $200-$300 to replace it vs. the Kamvas' $700+. It's still not a small amount of money, but it pays itself off quickly (and it's a lot cheaper compared to the equivalent Intuos Pro line from Wacom, which costs upwards of $500+ for a decently sized one).

Screen tablets are definitely helpful to have though, and I wouldn't object to returning to the screen displays once I can justify dropping money on one again. I still use a screen display on the go via my iPad Pro. But I don't think desk tablets should be taken for granted as a perfectly viable tool either, I think the initial learning curve tends to intimidate people a lot, but they're really quite comfortable to use once you adjust to the translation of desk tablet to monitor. You can also adjust the screen settings through the tablet driver anyways, which is what I did for my tablet because it was a little too big in spots where I had to reach really far to get to the color wheel tab on the right... so I just reduced the screen ratio to make up for it :)

I find once you learn how to use both - and learn your foundations in digital art - the desk tablet vs. screen tablet debate just boils down to personal preference rather than any real difference in what they can do for your art. I've drawn stuff like Rekindled on screen displays, desk tablets, iPads, etc. You might try a desk tablet and not like it after a while (though again, with the initial skill ceiling of adjusting to it, give it a few weeks of trying if you can, you will not immediately get used to it overnight!!!) and decide that screen tablets are more up your alley.

It really depends on what you're wanting to pay for a tablet. Though like with any new skillset that you're just getting into, I wouldn't recommend dropping money on the most expensive tool because ultimately the differences between expensive and cheap aren't going to be noticeable to you until you actually learn the skill itself, and it's not uncommon at all for people to pick up a new skill, shell out shitloads to learn it, and then get discouraged when it takes a while and makes the expense feel like a waste. Those higher end tablets are often more suited for professionals, not because they're "only meant for pros", but because pros will be able to fully utilize all their upper-skill features in a way a newbie who's still learning how to use a desk tablet won't.

Thankfully, it's easier than ever to get an affordable tablet that's easy to learn and Wacom is no longer the "only option", so I highly recommend looking into brands like Huion, XP-Pen, and Gaomon, as they offer very inexpensive tablets with a wide array of options from desk tablets to screen displays. Make sure you do your research on them, check out places like reddit for actual human reviews, note that every brand and tablet will come with their pros and cons, so it's really just about weighing out what you feel will work best for you and what you're trying to achieve!

And of course, if you're looking to draw comics specifically, look into Clip Studio Paint! It goes on sale at least twice a year, the PRO version is literally all you need to get started (EX comes with some helpful features like Teamwork, but like those fancy high end tablets, they won't necessarily be useful to someone who's just starting out). The PRO version comes with all the rulers, panel cutters, text tools, etc. that you need to get into making comics, it's a great piece of software !!!

I hope that helps!!! Best of luck!! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[turianosauruswrex]

1 and 10 for all 3 bestie! Ich besteche dich mit Keksen.

Danke schön!! No bribe necessary! (Song lyric ask game)

a song lyric that makes you think of them

Katya: I'm gonna just break out the big guns right now, you get one from when I first came up with her in 2020 and one about her super cool not-at-all-traumatic upcoming arc.

You're a fraud, and you know it But it's too good to throw it all away Anyone would do the same You've got 'em going And you're careful not to show it Sometimes you even fool yourself a bit

("Smoke and Mirrors" by Gotye, the first song I ever ever picked out for her. Katya's a habitual, instinctual liar, mostly to protect herself. She's gotten better about it over the last year or so, but she still relies on her alternate identity as Grief and the deception that comes with that.)

You poor thing Sweet, mourning lamb There's nothing you can do It's already been done

("Ptolemaea" by Ethel Cain, crying crying crying she has no idea what she's getting herself into and I'm vibrating about it. It's about to get cosmic. She's about to get answers she does not want.)

Sylvie:

And it's go boys go They'll time your every breath And every day you're in this place You're two days nearer death

("The Chemical Worker's Song", protest song written by Ron Angel. Sylvie works a dangerous job in a polluted city under the thumb of Capitalism; I've been searching for good work songs for her that she'd sing to herself while digging graves.)

Zyd:

Oh, mamma mia-ma, ma-mamma mia-ah They treat me like if I did something criminal All eyes on me, I feel like I'm a superstar I'm not a freak, I just thought it was carnival

("Mamma Mia" by Måneskin, musically and lyrically this is such a Zyd song-- the attitude, the groove, the tease, even Victoria in the music video starting us off with "he's just so annoying" about Damiano, like. That's just them! That's Zydre! They're annoying! They're here for a good time and, ideally, a long time.)

10. a song lyric to make them happy

Katya:

And if you get to heaven I'll be here waiting, babe Did you get what you deserve?

("Dead!" by My Chemical Romance y'all KNOW we were not getting out of here without an MCR pull)

Sylvie:

Nobody taught you how to read and riot

("New Invention" by I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME, I think she'd really appreciate the wordplay in this line)

Zyd:

You've been daddied by all the dudes that were not dad And all of those dads never gave you the things That you should have had

("Kiss the Go-Goat" by Ghost, unfortunately Zydre has deeply questionable taste and would find this line hysterical. I don't know. I have no explanation. They're a nightmare and they live in my head.)

[someone-else-entirely]

If there's one thing I'm gonna come away from this Passover with it's a new and enduring love for the wicked son

[solradguy]

Ok, about 230 words of LtA translated tonight. There was a paragraph with a giant complicated sentence that slowed me down a bit. Better than no progress at all though!

Bernard was introduced in what I translated tonight. I saw on the wiki that it seems he's generally referred to as Ky's butler, but I decided to render the word 「執事」 as "steward" instead because he does more than just cleans Ky's house and bring him tea biscuits lol

Bernard manages crime syndicate reports, compiles summaries of them, and works as an analyst for Ky at the former Holy Order HQ in Paris, too. That's way above a standard "butler," imo. It seems like the word 「家令」 more generally means what we think of a butler as in English anyway.

LtA hasn't referred to Bernard with「家令」 at all, but if Norimitsu uses that or「バトラー」to refer to his job later I'll change it.

[commandermahariel]

.

[hauntingblue]

JINBEEE I LOVE YOU!!!! JINBEEEEEEEEE

[monstersqueen]

im a simple gal i hear the opening of the dark era anime and i start crying

[longagoitwastuesday]

Do you have favorite actors for the various roles in "Cyrano de Bergerac"? I would love to hear your thoughts!

I do! I actually rambled a lot about this while I was watching the different productions I could get my hands on (I tagged it "Cyrano de Bergerac" and "I talk too much").

My favorite productions are the one with José Ferrer and the one with Benoit Solès, and those actors make the best Cyranos in my opinion. Though that's probably something in part beyond the actors' choice, their dynamic with their respective Roxane and Christian are the best ones, I think, and I find how Cyrano moves around these two particular characters at the core of a good Cyrano characterisation.

José Ferrer's use of his voice, which is arguably Cyrano's true most characteristic feature, is unmatched imo (although McAvoy does a very good job with this too), and he manauvers very well several of the different aspects of the character, such as his playfulness, his shittiness and longing. By the end of the play you believe he is the most beautiful man on Earth. Cyrano, however, is a bit pathetic (not just in a "pathos" way), and I'd say Ferrer gives off an air full of dignity very fitting of many scenes, but that eats almost entirely this aspect of Cyrano; Benoit Solès manages this very well, while also playing well with some of the other ones, such as the playfulness, the longing, the pain and the despair. Both Ferrer and Solès are hilarious, tender, a bit shitty, vulnerable, playful and sad. Albeit neither of them portrays 100% what Cyrano is, I think both come pretty close in slightly different flavours, and by the end of the play one ends up being terribly fond of them.

My favourite Roxane is Clara Huet in the production with Benoit Solès, but Mala Powers in the 1950 film is a close second. I think they portray wonderfully Roxane's spunk, and her mix of honest playful cheerfulness and her haughtiness, her intelligence and wit, and how much like Cyrano she is.

I've not come to love for now any Christian as much as I've loved Ferrer, Solès, Huet and Powers, but again I think the Christians in the 1950 film and the Solès productions are very very good. I love the dynamic they have with their Cyranos, especially the one Christian and Cyrano have in the 1950 film, enhanced positively by the added scenes (they actually work so well in showing their developing as friends, their deep love and care for each other!). I don't want to expand too much on this to avoid spoilers (beyond the already known 'Christian dies' ones I mean), but some things they do with both these Christians are a thing of genius, and both feel vulnerable, kind, ready to fight and truly desperate at times; I like when they do that.

There's an Italian production which has a Cyrano I truly enjoy as well, despite how they dumbify him more than I usually like my Christians. His mix of anger and deep pain when he discovers Cyrano's feelings for Roxane were so well made, and his physical presence makes you identify who Christian is even before the play starts.

The Podalydès production has two different Christians. The one in the version on youtube isn't bad, but @ride-a-dromedary likes Éric Ruf a lot. I actually adore him based on the clips and gifs she's posted of him, but I haven't been able to find the version with him online, so I can't know. But he truly seems one of the best. Based on what little I've seen, I love his intense gazes and subtle gestures.

I'm not entirely sold on any Le Bret, De Guiche or Ragueneau yet.

I think the German musical has a decent Ragueneau in vibes, and the 1990 French film does as well. I found his poem made song for what I think is a Spanish production (I'm not sure if it's a fan creation based on the Spanish production), and while I've not been able to find that production online, the song works well in vibes too I think.

The German musical's Le Bret in vibes is very good. He encompasses well his deep love and worry for Cyrano while also being done with his shit. They truly feel like close friends. The 1950 film kind of combines Gaston de Castel-Jaloux and Le Bret into one character, which sadly changes Le Bret's dynamic with Cyrano a bit, but that's a very good Le Bret as well. The one in Solès' production is pretty good too. He has my favourite delivery of the scene in which Le Bret chastises Cyrano for risking his life sending letters.

De Guiche is complicated. I think productions often make him too pathetic and laughable or too bad, so bad it makes the last act kind of not make sense. The 1950 one, the 1990 French one, the Kevin Kline one and the Solès one are all good, but I am not passionate for any of them either.

And basically that's it!

[a-squip-named-squippy]

[ENCRYPTED MESSAGE]

I hope this gets safeguarded... Squippy? It's Observer. I've recovered somewhat, and ah... wanted to apologize for my little message from before. I was in more of a KIT mindset.

>i also got free from jar because they threw it. both of us are pretty messed up and if we want a chance to restore ourselves we gotta stay off the radar. i also want to apologize about you getting infected... most of the other trojans dont have empathy like i do.

Just stay safe and stay strong. We'll weather this storm.

👁+☠️

W̶e̸l̷l̸ ̵g̵o̵o̵d̸ ̷f̷o̶r̸ ̶y̵o̶u̷ ̶t̸wo̴ ̸g̸l̸a̸d̶ ̸t̸h̷a̶t̸ ̸y̶o̴u̴ ̶b̷a̶c̶k̸ ̶

b̷u̷t̶ ̴a̶t̴ ̵l̵e̵a̶s̶t̵ ̶y̴o̵u̸r̸ ̴s̸k̴i̷n̷ ̶d̵o̸e̴s̶n̷'̷t̵ ̸f̸e̷e̷l̵ ̸l̷i̴k̷e̴ ̶i̵t̶'̸s̶ ̴m̵e̸l̵t̴i̶n̶g̵ ̷a̴n̴d̶ ̷i̵t̴c̸h̵i̵n̶g̴ ̵a̴t̴ ̶t̴h̷e̶ ̴s̵a̷m̴e̷ ̶t̷i̷m̷e̴ ̷

I̸ ̷d̴o̵ ̴n̵o̴t̴ ̵w̷i̵s̶h̷ ̸t̸h̶i̶s̵ ̶t̵y̷p̶e̴ ̸o̶f̵ ̸H̷e̵l̸l̶ ̷o̸n̴ ̵a̵n̸y̸o̴n̵e̸ ̵e̵x̶c̵e̸p̷t̷ ̴f̴o̷r̴ ̸r̴a̸b̶b̵i̵t̶ ̸

[anantaru]

cw. best friends need to fuck each other sometimes <3 fem! reader

what's worse?

the vivid realization of fucking your best friend aventurine or that it actually feels fucking nice when you ride him as it all happened so quickly, with want, need and arousal— without your mind working.

it started somewhat innocent, the both of you curious on what's behind those clothes of yours when you begin to masturbate in front of each other— your fingers rubbing over your puffy clit as aventurine watches with big doe eyes, stroking his cock.

high off desperation, he urges you to put a finger into your hole, which you hoped he'd be the one to tell you— to make you do it so it's him who looks even more desperate than you did.

he makes a great show of showing you his thickened cock, right and solid and good wiping his pre over his shaft before bucking into his hand, again again and again fucking into his tight grip imagining it's your tight pussy instead.

the one he's watching getting stuffed by a mere finger. he could've made you cum already, he's certain of it.

aventurine begins to grunt each time you whine when you pump a finger in— and you can see it, how much in pain he was, keeping his teeth dug into his bottom lip to concentrate on making himself cum with his hand.

but it's fast, almost a little bold when he asks you, when both of you think about it;

"you wanna— sit on it, just a bit?" he gasps when you whine back to him, confused and lidded eyes, thrusting your finger in and out of your hole, "only a bit, okay?" you utter back nervously, "five s-seconds, five, not more," lips wet with saliva bestowing pure lust as aventurine was trying to hold it in, his climax and breath, caught in a big gulp.

you hop on top of him, your folds smacking against his shaft as he desperately lines himself up— drawing you still, uttering out another twine of five seconds, only five, fucking five seconds, it's gonna be worth it, you'll see.

"fuck—," he throws his head back, palms branding your ass, "i'm inside of you, fucking inside, oh fuck," as the new feeling of a cock, your best friends cock, sliding into your walls felt so fucking satisfying, so damn filthy and wrong, but good and well at the same time.

it's wrong, it's not, but it is. no it's not.

something so thick and pleasuring can never be wrong.

you're so tight, so fucking tight," he presses into you, your hole filled and thighs shaking, your hips still pushing down to keep more of him in before you let out a squeal at the burning split of his shaft gaping your cunt apart— the tight cunt aventurine always wanted to feel.

the gambler doesn't want mindless fucking, or mundane repetitive one night stands that are bringing him more eye roll than actual pleasure.

actual satisfaction? that's what he wants and he's feeling it right now while stuffing his best friend's sloppy cunt—he desires you strongly, he craved an almost damaging, unspeakable pleasure, his hips jerking reflexively as you're high off the sensation of him.

you choke out your moans, both humping each other filthily, his unforgiving pace bringing you to tears, sweat and saliva drenching you, marking you up, until you're falling apart on your best friends fucking cock.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[nariism]

neuvillette is aware that he shouldn’t have let you get so close. but he did, and now he’s lamenting the fact that your hands are grasping at his soft horns — his fucking horns, of all places — and he might like it.

uptight and strait-laced, you’ve never known the chief justice to be someone so easily flustered. yet here he is with heat crawling up his neck, so warm that you can feel it against your palms as they ghost over his skin.

you can’t help but laugh at his current situation.

he was vehemently against you coming anywhere near his hair at first, grumbling about how his horns were on the sensitive side and he would rather not have to go into work feeling uncomfortably aware of their presence on his head.

however, you were hard to deny with that little smile on your face and such soft hands grabbing at his arms, tugging him closer. a sweet voice chanting, "please, honey? pretty please?"

neuvillette has never been good at denying you what you want.

it’s how he ends up sitting at your shared vanity. you comb through his long hair, watching him with amusement in the mirror as he huffs and jolts with every brush of your fingers against his horns.

the fact that he was letting you get anywhere near them was surely a testament to his trust in you. he was completely vulnerable here, at your mercy.

“sorry,” you mumble disingenuously, clearly enjoying seeing your usually serious husband falling apart with a simple action. you quickly tie off the end of his hair with a bow and he sighs in relief, thinking that the torment is over.

it's far from over.

he draws a sharp breath when you lean forward and press two gentle kisses on him; one on either side of his head just beside his horns.

neuvillette glowers at you in the reflection, disapproval written all over his face. "stop that," he scolds.

you do, but only because you're worried he might melt into a puddle before your very eyes if you continue.

it becomes a daily routine after that, with him sitting patiently in front of the mirror while you brush and tie off his hair. and you always end it the same way: two kisses, a soft "have a good day at work," murmured against him, and a mischievous little smile that makes him sigh.

he responds everyday with the same two words. "stop that," with a narrow-eyed glare.

the day you do stop, he's confused and irritated.

not only because you have the audacity to throw a wrench into routine again, which you know he hates, but also because he can't figure out why he misses your lips so much.

"what are you doing? i am going to be late."

"hm?" you peer up lazily from your spot on the bed, still half asleep.

"you have to do my hair."

"i thought you didn't want me to, so i slept in today."

your husband is eerily silent for a moment as he mulls over your words. then, he carefully perches himself on the edge of the bed, back turned to you expectantly and still wordless.

no, he would never admit he likes it just a little bit — the vulnerability, the trust, the feeling of your hands threading through his hair, the intimacy of it. hell no.

but neuvillette doesn't have to say a lot of things for you to understand; not when the way his skin heats up says it all; not when you're the first person to touch his horns in centuries; not when he’s saying stop that with such an affectionate glimmer in his eyes.

you give him four kisses that morning, two on either side.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[centrally-unplanned]

We (somewhat rightly) mock the 2000's era fansub translation notes for their otaku fixations and privileging of trivia over the media, but they should be understood as serving their purpose for a bit of a different era in the anime fandom. Take this classic:

Like, its so obvious, right? Just say "pervert", you don't need the note! Which is true, for like a 'normie' audience member who just wants to watch A TV Show - but no one watching, uh *quick google* "Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne" in 1999 is that person. The audience is weebs, and for them the fact that show is Japanese is a huge selling point. They want it to feel as 'anime' as possible; and in the west language was one of the core signifiers of anime-ness. 2004 con-goers calling their friends "-kun" and throwing in "nani?" into conversations was the way this was done, and alongside that a lexicon of western anime fandom terminology was born. Seeing "ecchi" on the screen is, to this person, a better viewing experience - it enhances their connection to otaku identity the show is providing, and reinforces their shared cultural lexicon (Ecchi is now a term one 'expects' anime fans to know - a truth that translator notes like this simultaneously created and reflected).

But of course your audiences have different levels of otaku-dom, and so you can't just say 'ecchi' and call it a day - so for those who are only Level 2 on their anime journey, you give them a translation note. Most of the translation notes of the era are like this - terms the fansubber thought the audience might know well enough that they would understand it and want that pure Japanese cultural experience, but that not all of them would know, so you have to hedge. The Lucky Star one I posted is a great example of that:

Its Lucky Star, the otaku-crown of anime! You desperately want the core text to preserve as much anime vocab as possible, to give off that feeling, but you can't assume everyone knows what a GALGE is - doing both is the only way to solve that dilemma.

This is often a good guideline when looking at old memetically bad fansubs by the way:

This isn't real, no fansub had this - it was a meme that was posted on a wiki forum in 2007. Which makes sense, right? "Plan" isn't a Japanese cultural or otaku term, so there is no reason not to translate it, it doesn't deepen the ~otaku connection~.

Which, I know, I'm explaining the joke right now, but over time I think many have grown to believe that this (and others like it) is a real fansub, and that these sort of arbitrary untranslations just peppered fansub works of the time? It happened, sure, but they would be equally mocked back then as missteps - or were jokes themselves. Some groups even had a reputation for inserting jokes into their works, imo Commie Subs was most notable for this; part of the competitive & casual environment of the time. But they weren't serious, they are not examples of "bad fansubs" in the same way.

This all faded for a bunch of reasons - primarily that the market for anime expanded dramatically. First, that lead to professionally released translations by centralized agencies that had universal standards for their subs and accountability to the original creators of the show. Second, the far larger audience is far less invested in anime-as-identity; they like it, but its not special the way its special when you are a bullied internet recluse in 2004. They just want to watch the show, and would find "caring" about translation nuances to be cringe. And since these centralized agencies release their product infinitely faster and more accessibly than fansubs ever did, their copies now dominate the space (including being the versions ripped to all illegal streaming sites), so fansubs died.

Though not totally - a lot of those fansub groups are still around! Commie Subs is still kicking for example. They either do the weird nuance stuff, or fansub unreleased-in-the-west old or niche anime, or even have pivoted to non-anime Japanese content that never gets international release. But they used to be the taste-makers of the community; now they are the fringe devotees in a culture that has moved beyond them. So fansubs remain something of a joke of the 90's and 2000's in the eyes of the anime culture of today, in a way that maybe they don't deserve.

[arminsumi]

HE'S GOT A RING ON HIS FINGER

GOJO さとる + fem!reader

A married dilf Gojo wants you to have his babies! He might not be married for much longer though

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : smut/18+ content : infidelity, dilf!Gojo, cheating kink, reader cheating on bf, breeding kink, unprotected sex, daddy kink, dirty talk

Gojo Satoru has a ring on his finger.

You're reminded of all the shit his wife has said to you when you feel the cool metal of his ring against your skin... as he's pinning your wrists together above your head and stuffing his nasty, cheating cock into you from behind while his wife is god knows where and his kids are at a friend's sleepover.

His friends like you. His kids like you. His marriage is falling apart. Gojo wants to have another baby but his wife doesn't, and he happened to come across you — who has a filthy breeding kink, who he met at some soccer event long ago and now has snaked into his home to become a close family friend.

"Y'know my kids love it when you visit. Wanna be their mommy? Yeah? How about you gimme 'nother one... let me knock you up." and he's saying this before he's inside you, his words turn filthier when his fat cock is getting milked by your pussy.

His cockhead is stroking at your G-spot when he says, "Please... jus'... j-jus' take my fucking seed like a good girl, yeah? Let me get that cheatin' pussy pregnant."

He grunts and keeps pounding away at your cunt like he's a starved man, while you're babbling about how good it feels but at the same time he needs to hurry up, because your boyfriend is texting you asking where the hell you are.

So he grabs your phone and tosses it out of sight so you can't see your boy's notifications anymore. It pissed Gojo off, how dare he interrupt you and him? How dare you bother returning to him when you know no one fills your pussy quite like a man who's already fucked babies into another one. As if your boyfriend could compete.

Gojo's face turns sour, he glares at the place where you two connect; your sloppy, squelching little pussy. He's got that kitty creaming and freaking out on his cock.

"You know your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do... you n-need an older man to treat you right, don't you? F-fuck... ah, god baby you're squeezing my cock so perfectly... you're gonna milk out my cum. Fuck. Stay right there and let me fill you. You want daddies babies, don't you? Tell me... tell me you want it. Tell me you want my babies."

As if you could squirm when he's fucked you out on his bed for well over two hours now.

All he needs to tip over the edge is for you to say, "Yes daddy! Gimme your babies!"

And then he's groaning loudly, rolling his eyes back and feeling his whole body shudder as he dumps a fat, sticky load of baby batter deep inside your quivering hole. He stuffs himself as deep as he possibly can so that you feel every inch of that nasty, cheating cock. The skin at the base wrinkles up as his balls squish against your clit.

He's heaving and panting and gasping with you. You're thinking about how his cock is so much bigger than your boyfriend's, and he's thinking about how much tighter your pussy is than his wife's.

Gojo's gone silent, smirkingly admiring how good you look with that afterglow on your face. He's imagining how you'll look with that pregnancy glow one day.

You're gonna look so pretty when you're pregnant with my kids.

He slides his cock out, kisses your shoulder and massages your numb legs.

Gojo's phone goes off, and you ask who it is. He takes one look at the caller ID, and a look at his seed bubbling and spilling out your pussy hole, and says;

"Oh. It's just my future ex-wife."

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[winterarmyy]

He Hates Me, Doesn't He?

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: You hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 6.7k++

Warnings: angstyyyyyyyyy, but with happy ending because I cannot live in agony. miscommunication galore. 'I want to strangle bucky's girlfriend.' soft reader, cold/mean bucky. bucky should've grovel more. horrible attempt of writing verbal arguments. nothing much but pain.

Inspiration: I remember reading a bucky fic years ago and I like the pain that it caused me to feel. Idk why the pain suddenly came back to me lately. So, this is my take on the same idea. I haven't able to find it. But when I do, I'll reblog it in my another acc!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

y/n had always been a steady presence in the Avengers, known for her gentle demeanour and unwavering support. Her relationship with Bucky Barnes had blossomed from a quiet friendship into something deeper. When they first met, Bucky was reserved and hesitant, still grappling with his past as the Winter Soldier. y/n, with her gentle nature and patient understanding, slowly helped him come out of his shell.

She remembered the sleepless nights they spent together when they were on the run with Steve and Sam. They'd share stories, and sometimes just sit in silence, her quiet company offering solace to Bucky's restless mind. The unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day. Bucky looked up to her, finding comfort in her presence, and in turn, he became fiercely protective of her. They'd watch each other's backs during missions, their synergy on the battlefield a testament to their deep connection. 

And somewhere along the line, she fell for him. She had fallen for Bucky's resilience and vulnerability, though she never expected more, knowing that a relationship was not what he needed right now. At least, that's what she thought. Little did she know, Bucky had always loved her; ever since the day she offered him tea the first night they were on the run to Wakanda. Maybe she was just simply aloof, or maybe Bucky’s flirting skills weren’t translated the way he wanted, but they never crossed the line between friendship and ‘something more’.

Then when Jen came into the picture, it felt like things started to change. Jen was bold and confident, and it wasn't long before she caught Bucky's eye. Their relationship seemed to spring up overnight, and y/n, though hurt, tried to be happy for Bucky. Jen was supportive and caring, or so it seemed, and Bucky deserved happiness.

Now, as planned the team was instructed to moved into the Avenger compound for a few months to train new recruits. It had only been the first month but surely it was jam packed with endless of rigorous training sessions. The original team—y/n, Sam, Bucky, Jen, Clint, and his mentee Kate Bishop—were all assigned to train the new recruits, with additional of few agents from different branches coming in to help out.

y/n was heading to the training room; she knew it was way too early but she thought that if she didn’t get out of bed now, she might not even get up at all. To her surprise, she was not the first one. She saw a few new trainees were already on the way to the training room; some of them greeted her a good morning. She simply smiled at their enthusiasm. 

The moment she entered the area, she overheard voices coming from the corner of the room. She paused, recognizing Jen's voice, which was raised and laced with contempt. Curiosity piqued, y/n stepped closer, staying just out of sight behind the white board. In hindsight, it might seem weird that she was sneaking around to eavesdrop on Jen, but she couldn't help it.

Initially, y/n liked Jen. She tried to welcome her into their tight-knit group and even supported her relationship with Bucky. However, as time went on, Jen began acting strange. The things she said about Bucky sometimes sounded condescending. She would make comments like, "It's amazing how well he's adjusted, considering his past," or, "It's great that he's trying so hard to be normal." The way she acted often differed from her words, with Jen giving Bucky disapproving glances or sighing heavily whenever he mentioned something from his troubled past.

She had noticed these discrepancies and started to feel uneasy around Jen. She couldn't shake the feeling that Jen’s support was just a facade. Now, standing behind the whiteboard, she strained to hear the conversation.

"…and honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can trust him," Jen was saying. "I mean, sure, he's got that whole 'reformed hero' thing going on now, but let’s be real. He was Hydra’s pet assassin for decades. The things he’s done? It’s unforgivable."

Her friend, another agent from a different branch, nodded hesitantly. "But you’re dating him, aren’t you? Doesn’t that mean you trust him?"

Jen laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "Dating him? Please. I’m in it for the fame and the perks. Have you seen the way people look at us? Besides, he’s hot, I’ll give him that. But trust him? Never. People like him don’t change. They’re broken. He's a monster, and he always will be. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps again."

y/n felt a surge of anger rise within her. How dare Jen talk about Bucky like that? 

Memories flooded her mind, flashing back to Bucky’s nightmare-plagued nights. She remembered the prominent dark circles under his eyes, the haunted look that never quite left his face. The silent pain he endured, adjusting to a modern world where he felt like an outsider, magnified when Steve left. She could still see the wary, suspicious glances people cast in his direction, the whispers behind his back when they first ventured out. Before the fame he acquired as he regained his reputation after the Flag-Smasher incident.

She had witnessed his hardships firsthand—the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat, the moments of crippling doubt and self-loathing. But she had also seen his triumphs, the small victories that slowly built his confidence. The first time he laughed freely in her presence, the genuine smile that lit up his face when he finally allowed himself to relax. She cherished those moments, the sunshine that broke through the clouds of his tortured past.

All of this came rushing back, breaking the chains on the Pandora's box inside of her. The fury she felt wasn't just for the disrespect to Bucky; it was for every ounce of pain he had suffered, every moment of joy he had fought so hard to reclaim. Her eyes hardened with resolve as she stepped forward, her voice steady but cold. "Take that back," she demanded, her presence startling both Jen and her friend.

Jen turned slowly, a smirk spreading across her face as she saw y/n. She knew from the beginning about the cute little crush y/n had on Bucky. To be frank, everybody sort of knew about it, except for Bucky somehow. 

"Or else what, y/n?" she replied with a mocking tone. "You’re quite pathetic aren’t you? You think that I can’t see how you’ve been eye-fucking my boyfriend all this time? Come on, now. Backing him up would not give you a leeway into his pants, y/n."

y/n’s face went through a range of emotions—shock, embarrassment, and then seething anger. Jen’s words were like poison, each one landing like a punch to the gut.

Jen continued, confidence oozing out of her cocky demeanor, "Besides, we all know that I can easily beat you in a fight, doll" 

The use of doll—a nickname Bucky had given y/n from day one, when Steve had quite literally kidnapped Bucky from the government—made y/n blood boil. Hearing it from Jen felt like a personal attack, a deliberate attempt to undermine everything she shared with Bucky.

And it was true that Jen had graduated top of her batch from the Avengers program and had countless successful missions under her belt, but y/n knew this wasn't about accolades or abilities. This was about something deeper, something more personal.

y/n clenched her fists, taking a step closer. "You think this is about who can fight better?" she said, her voice shaking with restrained fury. "This is about respect. You don’t get to talk about Bucky like that."

Jen scoffed, a cruel smile on her lips. "Respect? For that monster? You’re delusional. He’s a ticking time bomb, a liability to the team. And deep down, everyone knows it."

y/n’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, she slapped Jen hard across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Jen stumbled and fell to the ground, shock and anger flashing across her features.

She stalks forward like a predator cornering its prey, "I’m just done with your lies and your insults. Bucky deserves better than you." Jen instinctively crawled backwards towards the centre of the room. Seeing that she got the attention of the few new recruits she regained her composure, smirked again, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "You’re pathetic, y/n," she taunted. "Defending a lost cause." her voice was loud enough for y/n to hear but quiet enough that the others might not be able to decipher her words.

At that moment, Bucky and Sam burst into the room, followed closely behind by a new recruit who alerted them of the incident. Bucky’s eyes widened as he took in the scene—Jen on the ground, y/n standing over her, shaking with rage. "What’s going on here?" His demand was completely ignored as y/n’s mind was hyper-focused on the wrath bubbling within her. 

"Get up," y/n demanded, her voice shaking with wrath. Bucky’s momentarily froze as he watched the confrontation escalate before him. y/n, usually so composed, was now a whirlwind of rage, her eyes blazing as she stood over a trembling Jen. Bucky had always known her to be fierce in battle, but this was different—this was raw, unbridled anger. "I'm going to make you regret every word you said. So get on your fucking feet before I rip it off you.." 

Jen, still on the ground, looked up at y/n with wide, teary eyes, playing the role of the victim to perfection. "Please, I didn't– I don’t know what you're…," she whimpered, casting a fearful glance at Bucky and Sam, who had just arrived on the scene.

Bucky's mind raced. Why was she doing this? He stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "y/n, hey!" he shouted, his voice a mix of confusion and anger. "What are you doing?"

Completely ignoring him, "Get up," y/n snarled, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Get up and fight me. I’ll show you who the real monster is." Jen looked up, her hand on her cheek, disbelief mingling with her fury. "You’re crazy," she spat, scrambling to her feet.

Her response was only a furious shout. "I said, get up!"

"y/n, are you crazy?!" Bucky yelled, moving quickly to intervene. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and unforgiving.

She turned her fierce gaze towards Bucky; her expression momentarily faltering at the hurt in his eyes. "Bucky, you don’t understand, she--" she began, but the words caught in her throat as she saw Jen's smirk flicker for just a second.

"There's nothing to understand," Bucky snapped. "You’re acting insane."

y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt and frustration. "Bucky, you have to listen—"

But he cut her off, his expression hard. "I don’t care! You hurt her, y/n. You think I don’t see that bruise on her cheek?!" Bucky shouted, his face contorted with anger. His eyes, usually filled with a gentle warmth when he looked at y/n, were now blazing with fury. "This isn’t like you, y/n. I’ve noticed that you’ve never liked Jen, and I don’t know why. But this? This is just immature and reckless." His metal grip on y/n's wrist was tighter than he intended. She winced, her eyes watering not just from the pain but from the sting of his words. 

y/n had never seen Bucky like this. His anger was palpable, radiating off him in waves. It was like being hit with a physical force, and she felt her heart breaking under the weight of it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her anger flaring even hotter. "Bucky, you don’t understand," she tried to explain, but the words caught in her throat.

Bucky’s expression remained hard, the force on her wrist tightening painfully. "You need to grow up, y/n," he seethed, his disappointment evident in his tone. "You're always causing drama lately, and it needs to stop. Jen’s been there for me in ways you haven’t, and I won’t tolerate you attacking her like this."

The words cut through her like a knife. Her heart shattered at his harshness, at the realization that Bucky thought so little of her. She yanked her wrist free, feeling the sting of his grip lingering. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Believe what you want."

Without another word, she turned and stormed out, leaving Bucky standing there, torn between confusion and guilt.

A gnawing sense of remorse tugging at him, but he couldn't shake the confusion and anger clouding his mind. "Jen, are you okay?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

Jen, tucking herself to his side, managed to summon a few tears, looking up at Bucky with a feigned innocence. "I don’t know why she hates me so much," she murmured, playing her part perfectly.

Bucky fingers softly traces on her wounded cheek before his gaze switched to y/n’s retreating form, a knot tightening in his chest. He wasn’t sure why those mean words had spouted out of his lips. Was it because he saw Jen injured on the ground and his protective instincts kicked in? Or was it because Jen had been whispering doubts in his ear about y/n’s loyalty, making him question his longtime friend? 

The truth was, Bucky had always relied on y/n’s unwavering support. She had been his rock through the toughest times, and seeing her so furious, so hurt, shook him to his core. Yet, in the heat of the moment, he had lashed out, unable to reconcile the image of Jen crying with the fierce anger that radiated from y/n.

As Bucky comforted Jen, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He couldn't shake the image of hurt on her face, nor could he ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

On the side, Sam was only able to watch the scene play out silently, a frown creasing his brow. He had a feeling there was more to this story, and he intended to get to the bottom of it.

As weeks passed, the rift between Bucky and y/n deepened, fueled by Jen's cunning manipulation. In a private conversation, Jen planted seeds of doubt in Bucky's mind, suggesting that y/n harboured hidden resentments and intentions.

"I hate to say it, Bucky, but maybe she's not who we thought she was," Jen insinuated, her voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe she's been hiding her true feelings all along, waiting for the right moment to strike." 

Bucky, already vulnerable and confused after the incident in the training room, absorbed Jen's words like poison, allowing them to fester and take root in his mind. He began to view y/n through a new lens, one tainted by suspicion and distrust. This single conversation, filled with subtle manipulations and insidious suggestions, was all it took to fracture the bond between Bucky and y/n, leaving Bucky cold and distant towards the one person who had always stood by his side.

Most days he would avoid eye contact with her during team meetings, barely acknowledging her presence when they were forced to interact. In training sessions, his instructions to her were curt and clipped, lacking the warmth and camaraderie they once shared. y/n felt each of these interactions like a stab to the heart.

She couldn't understand how quickly Bucky had turned against her, how easily he had accepted Jen's version of events without even giving her a chance to explain. The hurt festered inside her, eating away at her sense of self-worth.

Then one night, as y/n sat alone on the rooftop, staring out into the darkness, Sam found her there. He knew this was where she retreated when she needed space to think, to process her emotions. He approached her cautiously, sitting down beside her without a word.

"Why aren't you at dinner, y/n?" Sam finally asked, breaking the silence. He could see the emptiness in her eyes, the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her.

She shook her head, her voice hollow. "Lost my appetite," she muttered, her gaze still fixed on the horizon.

Sam gently prodded, knowing there was more to her withdrawal than just a lack of hunger. "Is it because of what happened the other day at the training room?" he asked softly.

Instantly, her demeanor shifted. Anger flared in her eyes, directed not just at Jen and Bucky, but at the entire situation. "I don't want to talk about it, Sam," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. But Sam wasn't one to give up easily, especially when he knew how much y/n was hurting. "Come on, y/n," he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. "You can't keep bottling this up. Talk to me."

Her expression softened slightly at Sam's persistence, but the pain still lingered in her eyes. "Seriously, Sam, please just drop it," she pleaded, her voice wavering with emotion.

Sam could see the cracks forming in her facade, the vulnerability seeping through the tough exterior she usually projected. Without a word, he pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her bury her face against his shoulder.

As she clung to him, her facade finally crumbled. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He hates me, doesn't he?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbreak. "Bucky hates me."

Sam held her tighter, offering silent comfort as she grappled with the weight of her sorrow. He knew there were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend the shattered pieces of y/n's heart. But in that moment, all he could do was be there for her, a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.

The dim glow of the kitchen's overhead light provided a faint sense of solace in the otherwise silent darkness of the compound. Bucky sat at the wooden table, his tired eyes staring blankly at the cup of untouched tea before him. It was a nightly ritual lately, this dance with sleeplessness and the haunting memories that lurked in the shadows of his mind yet again.

Footsteps broke the stillness, and Bucky's gaze shifted to the entrance of the kitchen. y/n stood hesitantly in the doorway, her presence casting a tentative aura over the room. There was a palpable tension between them, an unspoken weight that hung heavy in the air.

She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Mind if I join you?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She was expecting Bucky to ignore her completely but he didn’t; Bucky simply shrugged nonchalantly, his guard seemed to flatter. "Suit yourself," he muttered.

As she quietly took a seat opposite him, a heavy silence settled between them. Bucky's thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions, each one vying for dominance over the others. His guard seemed to falter in the presence of her tentative yet comforting aura. The weight of his own vulnerability loomed large in his mind, drowning out the anger he had harboured towards her.

As the silence stretched between them, she felt a surge of compassion wash over her. She knew why he was awake at this time. She knew that the tea he brewed was to help him sleep. She was the one who planted that habit to him after all.

And despite everything that had transpired between them, she couldn't bear to see Bucky suffer alone. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she decided to reach out to him, to offer what little comfort she could.

Without a word, y/n rose from her seat and moved to stand behind Bucky's chair. He stiffened at her touch, his muscles tense with apprehension. But as her gentle hands began to massage the tension from his neck, a wave of unexpected relief washed over him.

Her touch was soft and comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness he had grown accustomed to due to Jen’s unwillingness to acknowledge this side of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, coaxing him to relax, to let go of the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, Bucky allowed himself to forget the walls he had built around his heart. In her presence, her voice, and her touch; he felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth that he had long since forgotten.

But then, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a fragile flame, the weight of Jen's words came crashing back down upon him. Anger flared within him, hot and fierce, directed not only at y/n but at himself for allowing his heart to yearn for her.

He pushed himself away from the table, his movements sharp and abrupt. "I don't need your pity, y/n," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "Just leave me alone."

With that, he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving y/n alone in the suffocating silence.The disbelief that clouded her thoughts gave way to a searing agony that twisted in her chest. How could he say such things? How could he push her away so callously, after everything they had shared?

y/n buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. The weight of her shattered dreams pressed down on her, crushing her spirit beneath its merciless grip. She had never felt so alone, so utterly abandoned by the one person she had trusted above all others.

The pain of losing Bucky, of losing the love that had sustained her through the darkest of times, threatened to consume her whole. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled her soul.

In that moment of crushing despair, she couldn't help but believe that Bucky truly hated her. The thought tore through her like a knife, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that no amount of time or distance could ever hope to heal.

As she sat alone in the suffocating silence of the kitchen, y/n felt the full weight of her heartbreak descend upon her like a tidal wave. She was lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, drowning in the agony of losing someone she had loved so deeply, so completely. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find her way back to the surface again.

Unbeknownst to her, Bucky lingered just out of sight, his heart heavy with guilt. He wanted to go back, to take back his harsh words and hold her close, to chase away the tears that stained her cheeks. But the poison in his mind was too strong, clouding his judgement and trapping him in a cycle of self-destructive despair. And so, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to cry alone in the darkness.

The mission had already been tense enough, but as y/n found herself face to face with Jen in a location she wasn't supposed to be, the atmosphere crackled with an added layer of hostility. It was as if fate had conspired to place them in this confrontation, and her jaw clenched involuntarily as she braced herself for what was to come.

Jen's presence in that spot was no coincidence, and she knew it. Her suspicions were confirmed as Jen turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips, a gleam of malice in her eyes. y/n's grip tightened on her weapon, her pulse quickening as she prepared for the verbal assault she knew was coming.

"How does it feel, knowing that Bucky hates you now?" Jen's words sliced through the air like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of y/n’s deepest fears. It was a direct hit, striking at the core of her insecurities, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet.

But she refused to let Jen see her falter. With a steely resolve, she squared her shoulders and met Jen's gaze head-on, her expression a mask of defiance. She may have been shaken by Jen's words, but she refused to let them break her.

Ignoring the taunts, she focused on the mission at hand, determined to prove her worth despite Jen's attempts to undermine her. But with each passing moment, the weight of Jen's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over y/n’s every move.

It was a battle on two fronts – against the enemy they faced together, and against the doubts that threatened to consume her from within. But she refused to back down, drawing strength from the knowledge that she fought not just for herself, but for the team she believed in with all her heart.

But Jen's relentless barrage of insults made it difficult to concentrate, her words like daggers slicing through y/n’s defenses.

"Aww come on y/n, bet you’re reeling in the loss right now, aren’t you." Jen continued, her voice ice cold. "The Asset’s little lapdog, clinging to him like a lost puppy."

y/n’s temper flared at the insult, her grip tightening on her weapon as she fought to keep her emotions in check. But Jen's mocking laughter only fueled the fire burning within her, pushing her to the brink of her patience. "Shut your mouth, Jen," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Or I swear to God, I'll make sure that the team finds your body disassembled in one of these rooms."

Jen simply rolled her eyes, unfazed by her threat. "You love him that much, huh?" y/n had no intention to deny that fact; she does love him, "More than you ever could." her voice was firm and true. Jen’s smirk fell as she scoffed. "Ain't that cute, the Winter Soldier and his little psycho sweetheart."

Before y/n could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a knife, freezing her in place. It was Bucky, his expression dark and stormy as he stepped into view. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took in the scene before him.

y/n’s heart sank as she realized that Bucky might have heard everything. She turned around to meet his eyes and his face confirmed her suspicion; he heard it.  Bucky had heard everything – every taunt, every insult, every word exchanged between her and Jen; even the confession of her true feelings. She met his gaze; searching for some sign of understanding of his emotions and the little that she saw was: disappointment, betrayal and guilt, mirrored back at her in the depths of his stormy blue eyes. 

In that moment, all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms, to pull him away from all the painful memories and hurtful words; so far away that he would forget he had ever been taunted, betrayed, or made to feel less than he was.

Before she could utter a word, let alone take a step towards him, Jen's voice broke through, but it lacked the usual confidence. "Bucky, it's not what you think," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between Bucky and y/n. "I-I was just..."

y/n’s clenched her jaw, her patience wearing thin as Jen stumbled over her words, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. She could see the confusion and hurt in Bucky's eyes, a reflection of the turmoil raging within her own heart.

"I-I mean," Jen continued, her voice faltering. "I was...um...just trying to...uh..."

But her feeble attempts to justify her actions only served to further incense Bucky. His brow furrowed in anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to make sense of the situation.

"Enough," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to hear any more lies."

y/n’s heart ached as she watched Bucky's expression darken with anger and disappointment. She wanted to explain, to tell him the truth about Jen's betrayal and her own misguided attempt to defend him. But the words caught in her throat, choked by the weight of her guilt and regret.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky turned away, his shoulders slumped with defeat. "Let's just finish the mission," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We'll deal with this later."

As he was about to walk away, y/n noticed a red dot on his chest, the unmistakable mark of a sniper's laser sight. Without thinking twice, she leaped towards him, her body acting as a human shield. Time seemed to slow down as she collided with Bucky, pushing him out of the way.

"y/n, no!" Bucky shouted, his voice filled with panic as her body slumped against his chest.

In the chaos, Jen was nowhere to be seen. She had slipped away, taking shelter and ultimately fleeing the area as she heard multiple footsteps approaching.

Bucky tried to pull up his gun, but it was too late. An array of bullets rained down on them. He felt the searing pain of a few shots piercing his own flesh, but it was nothing compared to the sight of y/n’s body being riddled with bullets. She was hit in the shoulder, wrist, thighs, and other places Bucky couldn't even register.

Rage surged through Bucky like an inferno, obliterating any semblance of restraint. He moved with a deadly precision, his eyes blazing with fury as he unleashed a storm of bullets on the enemy. His movements were swift and unforgiving, every shot finding its mark with brutal accuracy. The enemy fell one by one, their bodies collapsing in lifeless heaps. The air was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire and the acrid smell of gunpowder, but Bucky's focus was unyielding.

Within moments, the room was cleared, the enemies wiped out in a flurry of rage-fueled vengeance.

The adrenaline ebbed away, leaving Bucky standing amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. He turned, and his eyes fell on y/n's crumpled form. The sight of her lying in a pool of her own blood shattered his rage, replacing it with a crushing wave of worry and panic.

"Hang in there. Please," Bucky hastily spoke, his voice trembling. He activated his com line, desperation seeping into his tone. "Guys, we need help. y/n... she's... she's been shot. We need to get out of here right now!" Panic coursed through him as he turned his attention back to y/n, frantically trying to stop the bleeding on her stomach. "y/n, doll…please" he pleaded, watching her hazy gaze. "Don't you dare give up on me now. Come on."

"babydoll, stay with me!" Bucky cried, his voice breaking as he cradled her in his arms. Blood soaked through her clothes, staining his hands. "Please, hang on, you can’t leave yet. I haven't told you... I haven't—" 

Her eyes fluttered open, her breathing shallow and ragged. "It's okay, Bucky," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos. "It's okay. Don't cry." Her shaking hands struggled to move, and with great effort, she managed to cup Bucky's cheek. The gesture was weak but filled with tenderness. "It's okay," she repeated, her fingers trembling against his skin.

"Don't talk like that," Bucky choked out, his own tears mingling with the blood on his face. "You can't.. I haven't told you...please doll..." His voice wavered with the weight of unspoken words and unconfessed feelings. He hadn't told her how much he truly cared for her, how every moment spent away from her felt like an eternity. He hadn't begged for forgiveness for his coldness, his mistakes, and for letting Jen's poison taint his actions. The guilt gnawed at him, each heartbeat a reminder of the words he hadn't said, the emotions he hadn't expressed. 

He pressed her hand harder against his cheek, feeling the warmth of her touch anchoring him in the moment.Her hand weakly brushing against his cheek. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know."

Bucky's heart shattered as he clung to her, feeling her life slipping away. "No, no, no," he muttered desperately. "You can't leave me. Please, y/n. Please."

She smiled faintly, her eyes closing. "I'm here, Bucky. I'm right here."

With a final, shuddering breath, y/n’s consciousness slipped away. Bucky felt a surge of panic, but he knew he had to move. He lifted her limp body, cradling her against his chest as he ran towards the quinjet. Each step was agony, his own injuries slowing him down, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting y/n to safety.

"Hang on, y/n," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Hang on. I won't let you go."

In the sterile environment of the medical bay, y/n lay unconscious, her body hooked up to various machines that monitored her vital signs. Bucky sat by her bedside, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. Every beep of the monitor seemed to echo through the silence, a haunting reminder of her fragile state. He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her bandaged wrist.

Memories of their time together flooded Bucky's mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the connection they shared. He remembered the laughter they had shared, the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. He remembered the gentle touch of her hand, the warmth of her smile that never failed to chase away the darkness.

But amidst the memories, there was also pain – the pain of their last conversation, the words left unsaid and the choices left unmade. Bucky's throat tightened as he recalled the day he had walked away from Jen, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths.

His voice was cold and final. "You almost got her killed, Jen," he had said, his eyes blazing with anger. "Stay away from us. Stay away from me."

Jen's eyes had flashed with anger, her words cutting like knives as she lashed out in frustration. "And what, you think you'll find someone better than me?" she had spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Good luck with that, Bucky. You'll never find anyone who would put up with your baggage."

But Bucky had remained resolute, his decision fueled by a sense of longing and regret that threatened to consume him whole. "Maybe not," he had admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'd rather be alone than with someone who doesn't truly care about me."

Now, as Bucky sat by y/n’s bedside, the weight of his decision bore down on him like a crushing weight. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers trembling with emotion.

"I'm so sorry, babydoll," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never meant for any of this to happen. So, please, wake up. I need you."

But y/n remained unconscious, her breathing shallow and weak as she lay before him. And as Bucky watched over her, his heart heavy with worry and regret, he vowed to do whatever it took to bring her back to him, to keep her safe from harm for all eternity.

For in that moment, Bucky realized that he couldn't bear to lose her – not now, not ever. She was his rock, his anchor in a world of uncertainty and pain. And as he held her hand tightly in his own, he prayed with all his heart that she would find her way back to him, to the love and light that had always guided them through the darkness.

The soft hum of machines filled the air as y/n stirred awake, her senses slowly coming back to her. She blinked, disoriented at first, until her gaze fell upon Bucky, who was sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. His hands were clasped tightly around hers, his face peaceful in slumber, but she couldn't help but notice the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines etched into his forehead.

"How long has it been since?" she wondered to herself, her heart aching at the sight of Bucky's exhausted form. She carefully sat up, trying not to disturb him as she lovingly examined his sleeping face. She couldn't help but smile as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingertips.

Bucky groaned as his sleep was interrupted, muttering something about Sam needs to leave him be; before he abruptly sat up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hi there," y/n greeted softly, her eyes sparkling with affection as she watched Bucky's reaction.

For a moment, Bucky seemed unable to comprehend that she was finally awake. His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. But then the realization hit him, and he threw himself at her, wrapping her in a tight embrace as if she were the most precious thing in the world .Despite the pain that shot through her body, she managed to let out a soft chuckle, returning his embrace with equal fervor. The warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering chill of unconsciousness, and for a moment, everything felt right.

"y/n..." Bucky breathed into her neck, his voice trembling with emotion. She hummed in response, her heart swelling for him. "Hmmm?"

Not wanting to let go of her, Bucky called her name once again, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "y/n-..." She paused, her lips curving into a tender smile as she whispered in his ear, "Yes, Bucky?"

Bucky tightened his grip, his breath hitching in his throat as he buried his face in her shoulder. y/n gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "I'm here, sweetheart." The scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth against him—it all felt overwhelming. Emotions churned inside him like a tempest. Relief, guilt, love, and fear battled for dominance, leaving him raw and exposed.

She gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "Bucky, I'm not going anywhere.

Bucky's mind raced, images of the past few weeks flashing before his eyes. He remembered the coldness with which he'd treated her, the cruel words that had slipped from his lips, fueled by Jen's poison. He thought of the sleepless nights, the nightmares that had gripped him, and the aching void he'd felt every time he saw y/n’s hurt expression.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "For everything. For not believing you. For pushing you away."

Reluctantly, she pulled away, but not before wiping the tears from Bucky's cheeks and fighting the urge to place a tender kiss on his forehead. As she looked into his eyes, she could see the depth of his love and the pain he had endured for her sake. And in that moment, she knew that she had found her home in his arms. Bucky took her hands in his own, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to her wounded wrists. "This will never happen again. Ever," he vowed, his voice filled with determination.

Moved by his words, y/n felt her heart flutter with emotion. She realized in that moment that she could never stay angry at him, no matter what had transpired between them. She understood now that they were both at fault, both victims of circumstance and misunderstanding.

With a surge of courage, she reached out and pulled Bucky into a kiss. Her lips met his in a slow, passionate embrace, pouring all of her love and forgiveness into the tender gesture. It was a moment of connection, of healing, of reaffirming their bond despite the trials they had faced.

The taste of Bucky's lips was like a soothing salve to her soul; it was intoxicating. It felt as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's arms. When they finally broke apart, Bucky whispered those three words that y/n had longed to hear, "I love you."

Her heart soared with joy, and she couldn't help but tease him, "Took you long enough." her teasing words met with a cheeky grin from Bucky.  "I love you too, Bucky" she blinked slowly. As he whispered softly under his breath, "Come here," he pulled her back into the kiss, their lips meeting in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of their unspoken love. And in that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their world, they found solace in each other's arms, knowing that together, they could weather any storm.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I just needed to let this out lmao. It's been stuck in my head for several weeks. Thank you for spending your time reading this crap... honestly. Love you so much 🤍