#Unmatched Durability

[homeimprovementrefferal]

Timeless Elegance & Modern Versatility Of Stainless Steel

Timeless Elegance & Modern Versatility Of Stainless Steel - #homeimprovementreferral #HomeSpace, #Interior, #InteriorDesign, #PopularPosts - https://www.homeimprovementreferral.com/timeless-elegance-modern-versatility-of-stainless-steel-2023-07/

#design aesthetics #Easy Maintenance #elegance #functionality #interior design #stainless steel #Unmatched Durability #versatility

[virtual-idoll]

i saw pictures of these new paper doll like dolls that just play is releasing a few days ago and I though "oh. mermaid high again. so sad." but uhh now i kinda want them to succeed.

#they are flat with 3D heads and sticker fashion. but like kids could easily make new clothes for them!! #and for kids like how i was. paper dolls are cool and swaggy. a DURABLE one is of course the swaggiest #and of course if they go to clearance hell I can take their heads and such #But if they succeed kids can get a doll and then hopefully get a bunch of fashion packs and such and have fun!! #the fashion pack potential is unmatched! stickers are way cheaper than fabric fashion in so many ways! #fabric fashions are SO expensive to produce. thats why so few lines do it. #stickers on the other hand are cheap and require little packaging/shelf space #and the dolls look less fishy than mermaid high ever did. final thought.

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

10 — I'D KISS YOU AS THE LIGHTS WENT OUT

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

[I HIGHLY RECOMMEND LISTEN TO DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED BY TAYLOR SWIFT FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR THE BEST EXPERIENCE!]

The wraps, as promised, taste heavenly.

“Fuck,” you moan around a mouthful, covering your face’s lower half with your hand. As you chew around the food, then swallow, you move your palm to beam at Gaz, whose chin rests on his fist, split between watching you eat and looking through a notebook.

“Glad I can add you to my list of customers, Sweetheart,” he smiles, skimming through his book, the lamp standing in the corner of the room your only source of light. It’s well past midnight, now, curtains drawn and the lights of the hallway turned off.

“Seriously,” you use a napkin to wipe at the corners of your mouth, “That was like. Orgasmic.”

He huffs a laugh, dropping his notebook on his bed, arms outstretched behind him as he leans back against them, legs spread. You sit at his small desk, the wooden chair uncomfortable underneath you, but durable.

“Your shoulder feeling alright?” He asks, lazily looking over your form, dark features soft in the dim light. He looks like sin incarnate, and you feel as helpless as a moth to a flame.

Rotating your shoulder a bit, you shrug. “Hardly feel a thing. Get used to the pain, after a while.”

He hums, before moving to stand, heading to his wardrobe and looking through it. Having changed out of his uniform, he now adorns a faded green shirt and deep grey sweats, not unlike your own. 

“Looking for Narnia?” You taunt, making sure that the desk is free of crumbs as you stand, moving over to stand behind him. “Think pushing you in could help?”

Moving back, you regret your words as you see the instrument in his hands.

“You…” You swallow. “You play guitar?” Looking to him, entranced by the tendons in his hands, the intricate wood of the acoustic in his gentle grip. The pick hanging from the chain around his neck makes sense, now.

If his cheeky grin is breathtaking in the light of day, it’s deathly stunning in the darkness of night.

“Yeah. I play guitar,” he mocks, giving back what you gave. With a jerk of his head, he encourages you to sit beside him on his bed, which you do quickly.

“Playing and being good at are very different things,” you retort, but you find the usual energy in your words is lacking. You don’t entirely believe them, not with the way you’re watching his hands, the way he so carefully holds the instrument. The way he had so carefully held you.

Positioning the guitar to be played, he leans his head back, looking to the roof with a soft hum, contemplating. Folding your legs beneath yourself, you watch him with lidded eyes as he starts to slowly strum unmatched notes. Gathering a feel for his rhythm, the weight of the guitar in his hands, the tempo playing in his head.

“Don’t make fun of me,” he warns, shooting you a knowing look as he starts to hum along to a broken tune. “I’m not known for my singing.”

Your chuckle is a light, airy thing. “If I know the song, maybe I’ll join in,” you shrug, body loose where you sit.

The lighting, the smell of boy in his room, that masculine scent you can’t quite place, and the heat of his body, it’s all a concoction for comfort. You feel oddly safe, protected, like you belong, maybe, if such a thing is possible for someone like you.

Clearing his throat, Gaz gets comfortable, starting to build a rhythm where he strums his calloused fingers against the strings, his other hand moving around the neck with practised ease.

I loved you in secret

First sight, we loved without reason

Oh, twenty-five years old

Oh, how were you to know?

You feel trapped, almost, fully encompassed by the beauty of his skill, the beauty of his voice – the beauty of him. His hair looks suddenly too pullable, like it exists purely for you to grip onto and hold against your aching body.

When was the last time you’d done anything close to romantic? Sexual? 

Being with Graves was like using your own hand. Maybe worse, on a bad day, and it had rarely been a pleasurable experience.

Right here, with Gaz softly playing the guitar, dim light haloed around him, voice velvet against burning hot coal, feels closer to freedom than sex with your Commander ever had.

An angel.

Kyle Garrick looks like an angel.

All smooth skin and dimples, light freckles and saccharine smiles. The light smell of citrus and cleanliness, honey and mildew. With the lamp where it is, it colours the tips of his curls, highlights the depth of his face, the chocolate of his stunning eyes.

Like a punch to your gut, you realise the effect this man has on you.

In a way no one else – not before leaving Graves – ever has.

And darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis

People started talking, putting us through our paces

I knew there was no one in the world that could take it

I had a bad feeling

Focused on his hands, the placement, the speed – Gaz doesn’t notice the way you watch him. How you hang onto his every movement, the indent his teeth leave on his lower lip, the dip of his brow, the slope of  his nose.

If only you could preserve this moment in time forever.

Where nothing mattered, but you and him. There was no impending doom in the form of Phillip Graves, no distrust in the eyes of Ghost, no haunting spectre from your past.

Just you and Gaz and his music.

Your heart aches with the bittersweet of it all. How nothing would be normal, not after the past few days. But maybe now, just for one night, you could pretend to be normal. Pretend that it was just you and a friend spending time together.

Pretend that everything’s okay, and your world as you know it isn’t falling apart at the seams around you.

Pretend that you’re okay.

I’d kiss you as the lights went out

Swaying as the room burned down

I’d hold you as the water rushes in

If I could dance with you again

He feels so close. In every sense of the world. And you yearn and you yearn and you yearn.

For what? For a sense of belonging? Haven’t you always yearned for that – desperate to hide the loneliness in your chest and replace it with bravado? Pretend that your baggage is simply a crate locked and stored away forever?

The beat in your chest, matching the beat of the song, Gaz’s skillful fingers against the strings. Oh, how you suddenly wish to be a poet, just to capture the feeling within you with mere words against paper.

What was it like to be loved?

Honestly and deeply – earnest and true. To be held against a chest for the simple feat of existing, that very truth alone enough to be deserving of such a gesture. The very thought sounds so perfect, now, to be cherished in such a pure way. But who could give that to you?

Gaz?

A fool’s hope. A fool’s dream.

Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied

Yeah, we were dancing

Like it was the first time, first time

Yeah, we were dancing

With the final strum of the final note, you understand what being alive is truly like.

The two of you sit in silence, for a moment, and it’s like a hurricane of emotion and need and want crashes into you all at once, leaving you breathless. 

As he, at last, looks back up to you, expression almost shy, every word evaporates from your brain. Like a drop of water against a barren desert floor. Gone.

“How’d I do?” He asks, voice breathy and tense and oh.

You feel so, so utterly lost. 

Nodding, hand gripping the sheet atop his bed, you wet your bottom lip. “Good. I’m – you’re really good, Kyle.”

His name tastes like dew on your tongue, a blessing to even say the syllables, form the sounds in your mouth. A gift from the gods, a treasure to be varnished and cared for.

Sparkling brown eyes track the movement of your mouth, his own eyes half-lidded and hazy in the low light, and your stomach heats with something you’re not sure you want to place. Something you’re not sure you’re allowed to.

“We should get some sleep,” you find yourself saying, almost on autopilot.

Gaz nods, eyes still transfixed on your mouth, before shaking his head lightly as if to gather his thoughts once more. He gets up, stiff in his movements, carefully putting the guitar away.

“You sure you’re fine sharing a bed?” He asks, ever careful and gentle.

“Yeah,” you say, a breath, “It’s fine. I’m a soldier, I’ve experienced worse.” An attempt of a joke, one that falls flat in the unbreakable tension of the small room. “Do you have a bathroom?” 

He jerks a nod. “The four of us get special treatment ‘round here. Ensuite. Help yourself.”

Getting up on shaky legs, you give him a quick smile, before heading in to brush your teeth and splash your face.

When you look in the mirror, you see a version of yourself that makes you wipe at your eyes.

You look. New. Changed. Different. Any multitude of words to say that you aren’t the same woman that you were days ago. Not the same woman you were under Graves’ leadership, and certainly not the same woman that you were under Shepherd’s training.

If only she could see herself now.

Using the hand towel to wipe off the water, you allow yourself a moment to expel the air from your lungs, and inhale deeply.

Shutting the door behind you with a soft creak, you find the lamp to be turned off, the only light coming from Gaz’s phone as he scrolls through it, laying on his side against the wall.

Awkwardly, you find yourself moving to lay down beside him.

“Sorry,” you whisper when you brush against his arm, the narrow design allowing for next-to-no room for either of you.

Squeezing in closer to the wall, he murmurs back, “It’s alright. Just make sure you’re comfortable.”

Silence falls between the two of you as you get yourself situated, managing to not press against the man again. He’s silent, except for a few breaths, as he looks through his phone. As soon as you’re still, however, he shuts it off, plugging it in and leaving it to sit underneath his pillow.

Sleep clings to your eyelids, a taunting thing, but your body still feels the need to move – to release the energy building up within your limbs.

Minutes pass, like the tick of an analog clock.

It’s about ten minutes of silence, before Gaz breaks it with graceful ignorance.

“You feelin’ alright?” He asks, truly meaning the words – and expecting a proper answer. The ruffle of the singular blanket has you focusing on his movements, but he does nothing more than roll over, facing you now.

“It’s,” you nervously look to the roof, the pitch black of the room doing nothing to aid your internal dilemma. “It’s just a bit cold.”

“It is, innit?” Gaz nervously laughs, and his obvious hesitance, surprisingly, has you more comfortable. You, too, roll over, your faces mere centimetres apart. He seems so warm. Even without the ability to see, you can almost feel his eyes searching your face, desperate for answers to questions he doesn’t want to ask.

What is to live, if not to take risks? The only reason you were here, in this very bed right now was because of a risk, right?

His breath fans against your face, and even that small warmth has you leaning in closer to the Sergeant. As he swallows, it’s an audible sound, the slope of his neck bobbing with the movement.

“Can I hold you?” He asks, a gentle thing, and without a word, you curl up against him.

Bulky, trained, masculine arms wrap around your torso, pulling you in close, sharing the warmth of your body with his own. Your face buries against his shoulder, into his neck, and his scent is so him that it has you burrowing in further. His own hands tighten in the fabric of your borrowed shirt, and what a feeling it is.

You can only wish that you never escape the hold of his arms, if only so you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, without his frame to keep you upright.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear as he speaks. His hands move in circles, a kind motion, and you melt against him.

His thigh slides between your own, an unexpected motion, and you barely conceal a whimper as it slides against your clothed pussy. The sweats do nothing to conceal the heat, the ache you feel between your legs, and the sudden presence of him has you freezing up.

Without a word, he just lets it rest there, continuing to rub soothing circles on your back.

Your lips fall open, spit-slicken, and your nails bite into his back as he leans in closer, pushing his thigh in closer to your core. 

Your breaths become shared in the small space between you two, harried and genuine in the sudden intensity between you both.

“Sergeant,” you breathe, brows furrowed, mouth open as he leans in closer, hands slowly moving from your back, trailing down to your hips, pulling you forward against his thigh.

It's quiet, for a moment, a gentle pause in the current rushing between you both. His hand smoothes over your cheek, cautious and adoring, a reassurance more than anything.

Your eyes flutter shut.

“Colonel,” he returns, and presses his lips against yours.

His mouth moves against your own, sensual and slow, easing in the way he darts his tongue over your lips, meeting your tongue. He tastes like the sweetest of candies, a forbidden fruit’s nectar. Hand moving from your cheek to your neck, he pulls you in closer, turning his head to devour you against his pillow.

A moan slips from you, drowned out by his being melding with your own as he grinds his thigh higher, a perfect pleasure shooting up your spine at the movement.

Thoughts are a difficult thing, at the moment, a rare commodity. When your brain comes back online, you’re sure to hold some regret – but now? With his soft lips on yours, his grip on your neck, the bulk of his thigh? Regret is the last thing on your mind.

When he breaks away, finally, to breathe, a soft sigh escapes his plush mouth.

“Is this okay?” He asks, the words asked in a whisper against the corner of your mouth as he presses gentle kisses along your cheek, the crease of your eye. “Please, love, tell me.”

Your exhale is shaky, but you nod, meeting his lips with a turn of your head. A quick, reassuring exchange. 

“Yeah,” you chuckle lightly, thighs squeezing around his, tits pressed against his own flat chest, “This is okay, Kyle.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he gasps, a devotion, before moving to straddle you, hands falling into your hair like a lifeline as he ravages your mouth once more. Small nips to your lips, a tongue searching your own, his pelvis pressed tightly against your soaking pussy.

“Fuck,” you whimper, turning your head to breathe as he moves one hand to slowly follow your frame, brushing your collarbones, tugging at the fabric of your shirt. Your nipples feel unbearably tight, achey, and you’re desperate for his touch.

“Can I take this off, love?” He asks – a plea, really. “Let me see your pretty tits.”

You’re nodding, frantic, as he pulls the shirt over your head, helping you sit up a bit to take it off entirely, throwing it to the floor with little care.

His hands are warm against your cold chest, careful as they first graze your tits, both of you letting out tense breaths as he cradles them in his hands, feeling out the weight of them, entranced. The heel of his palm presses against your nipples, and you let out a small cry as he rubs them in those circles he loves so much.

“Shh, Sweetheart,” he whispers, noting your noises. “I’ll take good care of ya. Y’know I will.”

Your eyes shut as he leans in, licking a stripe across the expanse of your breasts, using one hand to squeeze while he uses his mouth to treat your most needy spots.

Hand moving to rest at the nape of his neck, you form a tight fist in his hair, pulling him in closer to your body. He lets out a low hum, the vibration of the sound sending sparks shooting behind your eyelids as he toys with your nipples, meticulous.

“Sergeant,” you whine, breathless, wanting, “Sergeant, please.”

He moves away from worshipping your tits to meet your lips, licking into your mouth with the energy and fervour of a virgin. The brush of your naked chest against his clothed torso has you aching.

“Colonel,” he challenges, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth, drawing a drop of blood, “Let me lick your pussy, love, c’mon. I’ll kiss ‘er real nice.”

You’re helpless to do anything but nod.

With one hand, he undoes the tie of your sweats, pulling down the pants as he goes. Lifting your legs with ease, he takes them off all the way, chucking it over the edge of the bed to join your shirt.

His hands rub soothingly over your bare skin, slowly moving upwards on his knees until he meets your thighs. Leaning down, like a beggar at an altar, he starts to leave open-mouthed kisses on the skin near your pulsing heat, sucking on the unseen area and leaving behind marks. His hands hold onto your hips like they’ll provide him mercy.

Both hands in his hair, lightly pulling, you start to grind against his face when he starts leaving kisses around your folds, fingers leaving imprints with the viciousness of his grasp around your hips. 

Your mind feels numb, no goals, no thoughts, other than that of pleasure. 

The first lick against your pussy has a desperate whimper bubbling out of you, nails scraping against his scalp as he flicks his tongue over your swollen clit. There’s a viciousness to it, one that he embraces, his teeth softly grazing your tender bud as he caresses you.

“Oh,” you moan, head flung back, mouth fallen open as you grind against his giving mouth. “Fuck. Please. Feels so good.”

He pulls away, just far enough back so his lips brush against your core as he whispers, “Gotta stay quiet, love, yeah?” Smoothing his hand over your stomach, pressing you down further into his bed, you clasp one hand over your mouth.

Smirking against your thigh, he praises, “Atta girl.”

Your lower stomach burns with need, and you feel electricity line your veins as he savours your taste, keeping you pinned to the mattress with his calloused hand. He’s passionate about it, laving over your pussy with precise strokes. Your thighs squeeze around his head, and in response, he only lets out a long, drawn-out moan, muffled by your body.

His finger moves to rub at your entrance, rubbing softly around it, before slowly thrusting his index finger in.

Swallowing a whine, you pull him in closer, your stomach tightening as he pushes in a second finger. He’s good with it – knows where to touch, how deep, the movements. Practised and skillful in his strokes – a musician, through and through.

“God, Kyle, you’re doing so good,” you mumble, hair splayed on the pillow beneath you as you rut against him, using him for your own gain. It feels perfect, the way he’s putting your pleasure over anything else.

So unlike any other man you’ve been with.

“If I could spend my days with you sitting on my face,” Gaz admires, leaning back, heaving deep breaths, continuing to lazily finger you as your grip loosens in his hair, “I’d do it in a heartbeat, Colonel.”

“Don’t stop calling me that,” you order, tightening your grip once more and pulling him back. He goes without a word, energy increasing tenfold, two fingers turning into three. He goes at it like a man starved, and the noises that leave your lips are nothing but sex-addled.

He tries to reply, but it’s muffled as he continues to eat you out, relentless in his devotion to the act.

Hand softly moving from your stomach, he outstretches it, searching for your own hand with small squeezes. When you shakily meet it with your own, he intertwines them, pushing them to the mattress with strength and determination. With every thrust of his other hand, or lick of his tongue, he tightens his grip.

You find your core tightening, your release coming up quick as he plays you like the instrument now lying in his wardrobe. The pure darkness of the room only aids the sensuality of it all, the air existing between just the two of you.

Any thought of right and wrong feel nothing but unnecessary, now, and utterly pointless. What's the purpose of worrying about the morality of it all, when you're both consenting and wanting and ready? When it feels so fucking good to have him servicing you between your legs?

If only you could see him, the beauty of his pussy-drunk face, the glisten of you on the stubble of his chin.

“I'm close, Sergeant, fuck,” you gasp, gyrating your hips against him, his nose bumping your clit where he licks in your entrance. 

He doubles his efforts, fingering and savouring and worshipping.

Your release comes when he broadly licks over your clit, fingers pressing against just the right spot inside of you, his moan a small vibration against your sensitive bud. Keening, hand coming up to slam over your mouth, a tear drops from your clenched eyes as you ride out the aftershocks.

Allowing you to use him for the last few moments of pleasure, he doesn’t untwine your hands, but he does stop fingering you to rub at your thigh in reassuring circles.

When your hips start stuttering, your keens turning into overstimulated whimpers, he slowly moves away, licking over the essence coating his mouth and lower face. His hand still remains in your own as he leans in, opening your mouth with languid strokes and smooth kisses. You arch into it, breasts pressing against his still clothed chest.

Breaking away from the embrace, thumb stroking over your inner wrist, he brings up his slicken hand.

“Gotta clean up your mess, love,” he gently encourages, opening your jaw with a soft grip of your chin, before slowly dragging his fingers over your waiting tongue. His breath brushes your cheek as he explores your mouth.

“Sergeant,” you mumble around the intrusion, eyes blissfully shut, “Need to make you feel good too.”

He freezes, a moment, a barely noticeable thing. “Makin’ you feel good got me off. Don’t worry, Colonel – next time.”

Now it’s your turn to freeze as he extracts his fingers, wiping them off on his own shirt. “Next time? I,” you swallow, “What is this, even? What are we doing?”

Reality and consequences and everything hit you all at once, your chest tightening even in the afterglow of your orgasm. 

He furrows his brows, untwining his fingers from yours and rubbing soothing patterns over your hand, his other carefully pulling back your messy hair behind your ears. “We can’t tell the guys,” he admonishes, slowing his movements as he realises. “We can’t – they’ll crucify us both, and –”

“And?” You ask as he trails off, your brows matching his, now, as he rolls to his side, pulling your back to his chest. He rubs at your waist, your hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

“Nothing,” he’s quick to amend, “Don’t worry about it. Just… focus on the feeling. Gonna be a shit show, the next couple of days. Lay with me, get some rest.”

You hum, non-committal. Relaxing further against him, his head resting in the crook of your neck, your breaths come out slow and calm. “You and Price,” you start, a niggling in the back of your mind that yearns for information causing you to speak the words. “The two of you – you’re different.”

He halts his movements, head slowly moving back from your neck. “What – what do you mean?”

Hand searching behind you, you pull him back in, his head burrowing further against your shoulder, your skin. You try and think of the best way to put it, the comfortable silence helping you gather your thoughts as you do.

“You’re… You like him, don’t you?”

Gaz’s responding laugh is grating, a choked off thing, a sad one. Your heart sinks to your feet, his body suddenly stiff against your own.

“No. I don’t like my Cap,” he huffs, indignant. Like it’s the craziest thing you’ve ever said, and not something based on quiet observation.

“You’re sure? Or is it just that you think he doesn’t like you?”

He pauses. Stilling, but processing your words for what they are. His response is a sceptic, “Like is a juvenile idea, anyways, Sweetheart.”

“I like you,” you admit, words soft as they leave your mouth, kind. Genuine.

“If it was that simple, everyone would be too busy getting with everyone they liked to live,” he admonishes, just as soft, as respectful. He’s so introspective – the most underestimated of the 141, but the most receptive. Understanding and watchful.

“It can be that simple. Sometimes.”

“Didn’t realise you were a dreamer, Colonel.”

“What else combats the nightmares?”

Silence. Your most common enemy and foe, fills in the blanks between you both. He holds you against him tight, now, like you’re an anchor, and he’s a yacht in the stormiest of seas.

“We can’t tell ‘em,” Gaz states after the silence takes hold for minutes on end. “We’re dead if we do – can’t let ‘em figure it out, either.”

“It was just a lapse in judgement,” you say, not believing the words as they fall from your lips. Hate yourself for saying them. “No one has to know. I’ll be out of your hair after this is all done with, anyways.”

He doesn’t respond to that. Not for a long while.

It’s only when you’re a single step away from sleep that he does.

“I really hope that’s another lie, Sweetheart.”

*

“Gaz, Sweetheart – get yer arses up, Laswell got more intel!”

You groan, lazily rolling onto your back, body burning hot from your bedmate’s clinging form. His arms hand around your waist, his entire being pressed against you, snoring softly where his chin rests atop your head.

Wiping at the sleep from your eyes, bleary and tired, you groan when Gaz just squeezes you tighter, pressing his face to your bed-hair.

That same voice calls from outside the door once more, loud knocking following his Scottish lilt.

“Aye swear to god, if either of ye are naked or I see jizz–”

“We’re up! We’re up!” You call out, cheeks heating from how on the nose his joking goad is. “Give us a minute!”

“Hurry up, Sweetheart, or aye will carry ye out over my bloody shoulder.”

Gaz yelps when you scramble out of bed and pull the covers clean off, uncaring of your naked frame as you hop on one leg to tug on the spare sweatpants from last night. 

He shoves a pillow over his eyes as you rip open the window’s curtains, allowing the late morning light to filter in as you tug on your shirt. His sweatpants hang loosely around you, and you tie them off with one hand while the other pulls at his arm.

“Gaz – get up!” You hiss as he tries to hit your arm away, you dodging every half-hearted swing with ease. “Unless you want Soap to come in and –”

“Fuck, woman, I’m up!” He instantly acquiesces, sitting as soon as the name Soap leaves your mouth. 

You try to hide your smirk, but you obviously fail miserably, as a moment later a pillow is flung into your face. Hands on your hips, you raise a brow, glaring at the man rubbing his palms over his eyes.

Moving to the door, you open it, focusing entirely on not looking like the cat who got the cream.

Technically speaking, Gaz fit that description more accurately, but you weren’t about to get into the logistics. Not when Soap looks at you, then over your shoulder, then back at you. You swallow.

“Mornin’, Sleepin’ Beauty,” he winks, and you barely suppress a groan. He pulls you in with an elbow around your neck, rubbing at your bed hair with a chuckle. “Or is Rapunzel more fittin’?”

“If she’s Rapunzel, you’re the bloody chameleon, you twat!” Gaz calls from further in the room, walking over to join the two of you while latching his watch around his wrist. It’s silver – not too over the top, but good quality, too.

Your cheeks ache with the smile stretching your face, following as Soap swings his elbow around yours, and Gaz follows behind with a hand on your lower back.

“What kinda intel?” You ask around a giggle, and you realise your mistake as the mood sours almost immediately.

Soap nervously darts his eyes to the surrounding hallway, as if the metal will provide him answers. They don’t.

“Soap?” Gaz, too, asks, hand moving to between your shoulder blades in a comforting gesture.

His blue eyes meet yours. Guilty, almost, pitiful. As if he knows the next statement will ruin your fantastic mood, the jovial air between the three of you.

When he says it, he does so with a firm expression.

“We got intel on Shadow Company – and where to find the deal Graves made with Shepherd.”

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[heliosthegriffin]

"So, who's the most dangerous member of team JNPR?" Yang asked the table unprompted, the rest of her team looking up from their food.

"Hmm, Pyrrha." Weiss said with little thought. "Perfect form, incredible strength and reflexes, she is definitely their ace in the hole."

"Really?" Yang held her stomach. "Nora's stronger, and her energy she brings to a fight is something else,"

Blake was silent in thought for a moment. "The question, it isn't who's the strongest, or most skilled, though. Pyrrha is definitely the best fighter, but Nora is stronger, but the element of surprise and intelligence, are just as deciding a factor in a fight. Ren's not as good a fighter, or as strong, but his mobility and aura control mixed with his ruthlessness, I think make him more dangerous."

"Elaborate." Weiss stated.

"Well, Nora is strong and energetic, but she's always going to come at you head on, so it's easy to counter her, if you don't fight her on her terms. Pyrrha better about that, but she's very civil, so she's not going to fight you outside of arena, or unless you start it. Ren, though? I can see him slitting someone's throat."

The rest of the table stared at her blankly.

"Nah, it's Jaune." Ruby said after a beat, drinking some milk.

"What?" Weiss said flatly. "You must be kidding. He's by far the least skilled, weakest, and most disgra-"

"Ok that's enough, princess." Yang cut her off. "But, she's got a point, Ruby."

Ruby shrugged. "Yeah, that's true, but-" She took a drink of milk. "What's Jaune's fighting style?"

Weiss huffed. "Simple, it's nothing, he doesn't have one."

"Yeah, it's kind of random style."

Blake thought for a moment, seeing a flash of triumph in Ruby's eyes. "Oh, that's your point."

Ruby gave finger guns at the cat-girl. "Exactly! You asked who's the most dangerous! It's Jaune, because, how you going to fight someone who doesn't know what he's going to do next?"

"What?" Yang and Weiss asked simultaneously.

Blake nodded along. "She's got a point, how are you going to react to someone who doesn't know what even he's going to do next?"

"Plus, have you ever been hit by him?" Ruby added, with no one stepping up to the plate. "His skill and style might not be great, but his strength is incredible, and his durability, endurance, and staying power are unmatched if you ask me."

"She's right, you know." A new voice interjected, all of team RWBY turning to face the sudden newcomer.

"Ren? Since when did you get here?" Yang asked.

"Since the beginning," He said simply, sipping from a juice box. "But, it's definitely, Jaune." His eyes became distant and foggy. "Always has been."

"Uh, you ok, buddy?" Yang putting a hand on his shoulder.

Ren went back to normal. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, the look of trauma on your face, just kind of,-"

"Don't ever get locked in a food-pantry with Jaune, there's no telling what he'll do, because even he doesn't know."

"How did that even occur?" Weiss asked. "Why were you two even-"

"Nora."

"Oh."

"Well, it's not like we ever have to worry about that."

====

"Jaune Arc, you're under arrest for suspicion of forgery to enter Beacon !" Harriet Bree stormed over to the blonde as he was stocking a shelf inside one of Beacons's storage closets. With a sound of confusion and a hand of tomato soup, he turned and let go, screaming.

Harriet, moving at full speed, had no chance to stop, as she knocked away the can of soup, only for another to fall at her feet, as Jaune dropped the armfuls of soup to the ground. Harriet at full momentum, crushed the metal can underfoot, spraying it all over herself.

"Ah! Gross!" She wailed, still charging forward, only to step on another can and slip, flying up into the air and knock Jaune over. Jaune groaned as she knocked into him, recovering quick she mounted his chest, ready to knock him out.

Jaune reaching wildly, grabbed a shaker of pepper, slamming it into her face. Harriet felt her eyes water and nose sting, as she recoiled back, letting Jaune push her off of him, running for the door, Harriet behind him.

Flailing wildly, Jaune grabbed a broom, swinging it wildly around with knocking rows of preserved goods off the shelves and onto the floor, Harriet taking a wrong step trying to dodge the flailing, stepping into a puddle of oil from a broken bottle, sliding forward, right into Jaune's wild strikes.

Harriet felt her head ring and vision swim, then another swing connected, knocking her back and into a row of shelves. She went straight through it, and the shelves falling straight onto her with a groan, the sound of clanging metal and falling supplies consuming the room, as Jaune fled out the door, turning off the lights and locking the door behind him.

---

AN: Felt like writing some goofiness.

#jaune arc #Team RWBY #Lie Ren #Harriet Bree #Crack-post

[robfinancialtip]

Introducing the latest innovation in pet safety: the NEW HALO COLLAR 3. Elevating the standards of GPS dog fences and trackers, this groundbreaking device is poised to transform the way you safeguard your furry companion. Explore the exciting enhancements packed into the HALO COLLAR 3:

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Discover all the essential details about the HALO COLLAR 3. What sets it apart? How does the GPS dog fence function? How accurate is its tracking system? Uncover these answers and more as we delve into the comprehensive features of this remarkable device.

With the HALO COLLAR 3, bid farewell to conventional fences and constant monitoring of your pet's whereabouts. This state-of-the-art collar harnesses real-time GPS technology to establish an invisible yet highly effective containment boundary. Say goodbye to cumbersome installations and physical barriers limiting your pet's freedom!

Powered by cutting-edge Global Navigation Satellite Systems tracking technology, the HALO SYSTEM delivers unparalleled location accuracy, comparable to the latest advancements in autonomous vehicles and drones. In fact, the HALO COLLAR's geolocation feature rivals that of leading smartphones, ensuring pinpoint accuracy within a few feet. Plus, with nightly satellite data downloads, your pet's GPS location is instantly precise the moment they step outside.

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Experience the epitome of tracking prowess with the HALO COLLAR 3. Monitor your pet's real-time location on the app's map, facilitating swift retrieval in case they wander off. Track their movements, access historical data, and receive boundary breach alerts—all with unmatched precision.

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Rest assured, the HALO COLLAR 3 prioritizes your pet's comfort and safety. Waterproof, durable, and ergonomically designed for a secure fit, it ensures uninterrupted adventures with its extended battery life—20% more than its predecessor, the HALO 2+ dog collar.

With upgraded features and advanced technology, the HALO COLLAR 3 offers unparalleled value at the same price as the HALO 2+. Experience the future of pet safety today with the HALO COLLAR 3.

#Youtube

[budandtender]

Cannabis: A Multifaceted Plant for a Multitude of Uses

Introduction

Cannabis, a plant that has been a part of human history for thousands of years, is experiencing a resurgence in popularity as its myriad of uses become increasingly recognised. From its strong fibres used in textiles and paper to its nutritional and medicinal properties, cannabis has proven itself to be a truly multipurpose plant. This article will delve into the various aspects of this versatile plant and explore how it has been utilised throughout history and across cultures.

The History of Hemp: A Material with Unmatched Strength

One of the most well-known uses of cannabis is in the production of hemp, a material derived from the plant's strong fibres. These fibres have been used for millennia to create durable cloth, rope, and paper. The Vikings, known for their seafaring prowess, utilised hemp to construct sails for their ships, enabling them to voyage from Scandinavia to Nova Scotia. In the United States, Betsy Ross sewed the first flag from hempen cloth, and the Declaration of Independence was written on hemp paper. Even the now obsolete German currency, Deutsche Mark, were once printed on hemp paper.

The use of hemp extended beyond these applications, as seen in the Netherlands, where windmills were built specifically to crush hemp stalks. This demonstrates the importance of hemp in various industries and highlights the plant's incredible versatility.

Cannabis as a Nutritional Powerhouse

While the strength of its fibres may have initially attracted humans to the cannabis plant, its potential as a food source likely played a significant role in its widespread cultivation. Cannabis seeds, or hempseeds, are packed with essential nutrients such as polyunsaturated fats, essential fatty acids, and proteins. These qualities qualify hempseed as a functional food, meaning it provides health benefits beyond basic nutrition.

For over three thousand years, Asian cultures have utilised hempseed as both a food and a medicine. Despite the prohibition of cannabis products in the United States, hempseed has been allowed for use in food over the last two decades. This highlights the recognition of its nutritional value and potential health benefits.

Cannabis Resin: A Source of Medicinal and Psychoactive Compounds

The resin produced by the cannabis plant is another aspect that has garnered significant attention due to its medicinal and psychoactive properties. The compounds found in cannabis resin, such as THC (tetrahydrocannabinol) and CBD (cannabidiol), have been the focus of breeding efforts to increase their production. These efforts have led to the development of various cannabis drug chemotypes around the world, with some cultivars producing only THC, others producing both THC and CBD, and a few expressing propyl THCV (tetrahydrocannabivarin) and/or CBDV (cannabidivarin).

The medicinal uses of cannabis resin have been widely researched, with evidence suggesting its effectiveness in treating conditions such as chronic pain, epilepsy, multiple sclerosis, and more. The psychoactive effects of THC have also led to the recreational use of cannabis, which has sparked debates surrounding its legalisation and regulation.

Environmental Benefits of Cannabis Cultivation

In addition to its myriad uses, cannabis cultivation offers several environmental benefits. Hemp plants are known to absorb large amounts of carbon dioxide, making them an effective tool in combating climate change. Furthermore, hemp requires fewer pesticides and herbicides than many other crops, reducing the environmental impact of agriculture.

Cannabis can also be used as a source of biofuel, offering a renewable and eco-friendly alternative to fossil fuels. Additionally, the fast growth rate and low water requirements of hemp make it a sustainable crop, capable of providing resources without causing significant strain on natural resources.

Conclusion

Cannabis is a truly remarkable plant, with applications ranging from textiles and paper to nutrition and medicine. As society continues to recognise its numerous benefits, it is likely that the cultivation and use of cannabis will only continue to grow. By embracing this versatile plant, we can harness its potential to improve our health, industries, and environment for generations to come.

#cannabis #cannabismedicine #cannabishistory #medical cannabis #cbd #feelgreatagain #cbdoil #budandtender #health #endocannabinoidsystem

[p1nkcomet]

the dehumanization of gojo

i am a tree. i am beautiful and lush and green. i stand tall and loom over people. my trunk is thick- if you were to cut it you could see the layers that have formed throughout the years. i am strong, my roots intertwine into the earth, feeding off its power. my branches reach up, each sprout being different choices in a parallel universe. maybe one where i didn’t meet you. you are the wind. you range from breeze to vexed typhoon. you circle my arms and attack my body with your invisible bullets. you pick up stones and launch them at my lean figure, but it’s fine because i am strong; you’re just testing my durability. you come to visit me, furious and angry, stripping me of my leaves, leaving my body naked and trembling. you chip away at my heart, leaving me without the only thing that people find beautiful about me, but it’s fine because i know you love me. you love me, just not enough to stay. and when you leave i don’t miss you, but i wish you came back. you like carving me, sculpting me, gouging me, to create your perfect version of me, even if i never saw anything wrong to begin with. when things dont go your way, you curl away leaving me to heal. my leaves grow back, and i am beautiful again. but you’re back. you slam my bones, and shake me dry, now not even the rain wants me. it’s strange, that while you’re the one undressing me, once i am finally nude, exposed for you, ready for your judgement, you cave further away. my green garments return, and this time they’re present for the sun’s visit. she smiles as she caresses me with a gentleness you could never possess. but why, if she treats me so well, do i still wish it was you? her grin falters, when you rejoin me because she knows she is unmatched, even in her luminous glory. im strong, but you’re stronger. this time you thrash and pull at my legs and pierce my arms. this time im not just naked, im mutilated. with one final punch you leave my back broken. my trunk, once so wise and full of time, is pointless. i am a tree, but im no longer beautiful and lush and green. the people i once stood over carry my corpse. my roots, once tangled with the soil are ripped out of the earth’s embrace. i’m no longer strong, you took that away. my branches sweep the ground. tonight was my last night with you. you don’t want me, but won’t leave me alone. you assist in my erasure; as my dead body is being burned, you fuel the fire that was made from my soul. the thick smoke is the only part of me that remains.  i am a product of your infatuation with yourself. you are so in love with yourself, you’ve chiseled a reflexion of you in me. the only way you could love anyone else, was if they resembled you.  as i float up, tall for one last time, i see you smile for the first time, satisfied with my final form.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #satosugu #gojo satoru #geto suguru #i am trying to cope #jjk 261

[aloneatpeace]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗

The scarlet Phoenix is being that is powerful beyond any creature in Multivers. Scarlet Phoenix is rare nexu being capable of creating new life form and change the world in large scale as well as destroy it. Not only one but two empowered vibrant power source in one host, which make this being far more dangerous and superior than any life form. The scarlet witch and Phoenix force are two unfathomable force with unmatched powers .these two repal eachother making the co existing harder but with a powerful compatible host who can make these both co exist without creating destruction is what a scarlet phoenix .the phoenix force is the most feared being as it possess extinction level threat. this will intensify with power of scarlet witch who is the harbour of Chaos magic a being capable of spontaneous creation .the scarlet witch has no coven ,no need for incantation the power exceeds that of the sorcerers suprime .the scarlet witch ment to rule everything .

Telepathy , Telepathic defence, Telepathic cloak, Cloak mind , Telepathic illusion, Telepathic camouflage, Telepathic manipulation, Telekinesis, Telekinesis aura , Telekinesis sensitivity, Tactical Telekinesis , Temporal manipulation , Transmutation

Mind control, Mind possession, Mind Transferal , Mind link , Mental detection, Mental paralysis Matter mutation , Memory alliteration , Metal manipulation , Magic resistance,

Psychic sheild , Psychic blast ,Pyrokinesis , psionic energy manipulation ,psychic firebirds, phoenix force avatar , probability Alteration, Psychometry , Physical resistance , Personality alteration,

Astral projection, Atmokinesis, Interstellar travel cosmic , cosmic teleportation , Concussive force blast , Immortality, Dilate power, Durability , Resurrection, Reality warping Energy absorbation , Emotion manipulation , Existence mastery , Life force control .

Next chapter may take a while so be patient . Sence the readers power is released I thought this might help to understand more about who and what is the reader power is .

as shown in the previous info the change of eye colour will be based on the first info. I just thought adding this pictures would aesthetically pleasing so example the psonic blast could be any colour not just blue it's based readers emotions.

#the scarlet phoneix #y/n y/l/n #reader insert #scott mcall x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #derek hale x reader #issac lahey x reader #alison argent #lydia martin #peter hale x reader #chris argent #caroline forbes #bonnie bennet #elena gilbert #damon salvatore #stefan Salvatore #klaus mikaelson #Elijah mikaelosn #kol mikaelson #finn mikealson #freya mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #ester mikaelson #mikael mikaelson #alaric saltzman #melisa mccall #teen wolf x reader #the vampire diaries x reader #vampire diaries x reader #kol mikaelson x reader

[smaptain-smerica]

Spare me your Time

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Summary: After a rough start to life, Y/n accepts her dream job continuing her father's research. Someone from the past comes back into her life, and she hesitates to establish a connection. He spared her life, will she spare him some of her time in return? Word Count:9.4K Warnings: Death of father, cursing, Forceful obedience, insomnia, the reader has the serum

You usually worked late. All your required assignments were completed in record time, earning you a high standing among the other scientists and engineers. Granted, not everybody knew that you were the boss's daughter. 

The company that your father and his brother had started always remained a secret to the world, even to you in some ways. What you could gather from short dinner table conversations was that they were collecting research on how medicines affect different kinds of people and attempting to create unique medicines based on physical and mental assessments. 

Growing up around this secret medicine world inspired you to want to become a biomedical engineer just like your father. You wanted to follow in his footsteps and revolutionize medicine and technology for the better. 

They would take volunteers to do the scans curate a medicine specifically for them. It would take into consideration their mental age, physical age, and physique to determine the best equations and medicines to help them. The end goal was to be able to take a simple scan of someone's body and output a pill designed perfectly for them in minutes. The only thing they managed to successfully create was personalized allergy medicine. For over a decade of work, it seemed like a small accomplishment, but your father always said it was only the foot in the door. 

What was happening under the company's surface was shady dealings by your uncle. One day when your father was out of town on a business trip, your uncle asked if you’d like to sit in the machine for a scan. Your father never let you before so of course you said yes. Your uncle discovered the unmatched potential you carried with you within your brain and body. He kept the scans a secret from your father, even you, and he began to scheme his way toward evil. 

Your uncle had heard about the Winter Soldier and the secret HYDRA program they were creating for it. He heard tales of horror from the scientists he regularly kept in touch with. Ultimately, he decided that he could create a serum ten times better than the one HYDRA had used. His serum would eliminate the need for brainwashing and mind-controlling commands. His version of the serum would subject the recipient to obedience. How someone would control them was still in the works, but he began working secretly on the serum, testing it on various rodents until he thought it was perfect. 

It was your 15th birthday, midnight on the dot when your uncle woke you from your sleep saying he had a surprise. Hoping it was a new car, you got up to follow him. He knocked you out cold and strapped you to a chair in a lab in the basement. He had injected you with his version of the serum, fire pumping through your veins and melting you from the inside out. In a groggy state, you watched your father burst into the room, frantically trying to find you. He was furious, more furious than you had ever seen him in your life. Unfortunately, your uncle was faster, shooting him square between the eyes with a concealed weapon, as though he was waiting for this moment. 

For a few months, your uncle has put you through a series of tests. Your speed, strength, and durability had increased, but not in the way he had hoped. There was only a 75% increase in physical attributes. Instead, it was your mind that had been maximized to its full potential. Suddenly you gained a photographic memory with the ability to memorize quickly. You could see or hear instructions for something once and instantly perfect it. He sat you in the library, forcing you to watch countless videos and read countless books. You had become fluent in 15 different languages in only 6 months and knew every Jiu-Jitsu move there was and more. Though you might not have been as strong as the Super Soldiers, your uncle had hopes you could outsmart them.

So, from 16 and on you earned the highest education possible. Graduating high school at 17, college at 20, and finally, a master's degree in biomedical engineering at 23. You were halfway through earning your Ph.D. when someone walked into your life that changed it forever. 

The serums effects weren’t 100%, but you were only the first test subject. There was some free will in the sense that you could go and do whatever you want, but unless someone told you otherwise, it was in your nature to listen. Stay here, never leave, work on this project, go get me this, when you were younger you didn’t even realize this was happening. People just told you that you were helpful and kind-hearted. Your uncle knew though, and used it to his advantage. 

One of your favorite songs played ever so softly next to you from a small speaker while you worked in the lab. The only light was a desk lamp over your workstation. It was in the early hours of the morning, so you had to be quiet to not bring suspicions to your project. You sang gently to yourself as you squeezed a drop of blood onto a microscope sheet and then put your work-in-progress anti-serum serum over the top of it. You brought your eyes to the scope, examining what was happening within the red and white blood cells. 

The sound was hardly noticeable but still caused you to freeze up. Slowly, you straighten your posture and turn around. Your hand shut off the music as you listened intensely, but only the sound of your heartbeat was in your ears. 

Finally, a dark figure appeared in the small ring of light around you. Your eyes widened and you took a step backward in fear, knocking over the stool in the process. In front of you stood a tall man with dark, long hair and a face covered by a mask. You wouldn’t have recognized him if it weren’t for the silver, metal arm that hung from his shoulder. 

Your uncle told you stories of him, you’ve read about him and yet, still didn’t think he was real. 

The winter soldier. 

“I know who you are.” You choked out, embarrassed by how small your voice sounded. He didn’t move, didn’t blink, you could have sworn you saw his head tilt ever so slightly. 

“Did you come here to kill my uncle?” Your voice hardly came out as a whisper. As terrified as you were for your own life then, you hoped he would say yes. 

The winter soldier nodded.

“Did you do it?” You asked. 

He nodded again. 

You felt relief flood over you. You were free. Your body let go of a weight that you didn’t know was attached to you as the confirmation settled in your mind. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, half to the mysterious assassin before you, and half to the universe. 

He raised a pointer finger and seemed to aim it directly behind you. You glanced back at your work and then back at him. 

“What am I doing?” You asked. 

He only responded with a nod. A man of few words, you thought. 

You sighed. Oddly enough, he was the inspiration behind it. He, you, and all the other people your careless uncle killed trying to create the “perfect” soldier.

“I’m trying to fix it. Fix us.” You responded grimly. 

Your attention is fixed now on his eyes. His blue and enticing eyes seemed to sparkle with some emotion that was hard to place as he looked at the table and then back at you. The winter soldier hesitated it seemed. Looking at your work, then you, down at his hand, then back up again. You were scared he was going to kill you for even being a witness. But he didn’t. He took a few steps backward, disappearing out of the light and into the dark before he swiftly left the lab. 

You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The fear of coming close to death exited your body like an exorcism. Your legs wobbled as you caught yourself on the workbench. What were you going to do now? You were free. Free from your uncle's grasp, and the experiments, you could leave the house. Hell, you could move states. You turned around and looked at your work. Seeing that your current antidote failed, you sighed in defeat and gathered up your notebook. You would- no, needed- to finish this. But it could wait. Now, you were going to take everything you had and discover a new life for yourself. 

If one thing hadn’t changed, it was that you still worked late into the night. By textbook definition, you were a night owl. It was hard to get to sleep and stay asleep with your mind constantly reeling with thoughts. You were just coming back from a run around the compound at 1:30 am. The Avengers compound was so peaceful at night. The gentle sounds of the water and the humming of crickets were your favorite. 

Water from the kitchen was the first place you wanted to go. When you opened the fridge you spotted a few Gatorades. You knew they were Clint’s, he had explicitly told you not to touch them. However, Clint was gone for the week, visiting his family. That was plenty of time to cover up your crimes.

You headed back to the lab, having thought of another formula to scribble down while on your run. To your surprise, the light to your lab was on. None other than your boss, Tony Stark, was flipping through one of your sketchbooks. It wasn’t a surprise to find him snooping through your drawings. You and he were collaborating on a prosthetic contraption for his friend Rhodes. It was odd to see him here this late, however. 

“Burning the midnight oil, Mr.Stark? Now you’re taking after me.” You teased while leaning in the doorway. 

Tony looked up at you and gave you a crooked grin. 

“No shit, Sherlock.” 

To you, it wasn’t just an expression. Your photographic memory stood out to Tony the first day you met. He called you Sherlock Holmes because of your ability to memorize and analyze every single detail of a picture while only seeing it for one second. The real reason Tony had hired you was because he was fascinated with you and your fathers' research. He agreed to fund your research in its entirety as long as he got to slap a stark label on it when it was finished. 

“I’m liking these designs, kid.” He pointed to the paper at one drawing in particular. 

“How quickly do you think you could whip up a prototype for this one?” 

You walked over to him and peered over his shoulder. You hummed in thought. 

“A carbon fiber prototype, a couple of days. But a functioning one I would need about 3 weeks if I halted my other projects.” 

Tony tapped his fingers against his chin and nodded. He hadn’t taken his eyes off your designs for the entirety of the conversation. 

“That’s great. Yeah, that’s perfect. Get a prototype of these put together for me would ya?” 

You brought your fingers to your forehead and saluted him. 

“You’re the boss.” 

Tony smiled at you, placing a hand on your shoulder before heading for the door. 

“Tony!” You called after him which caused him to halt and face you. 

“Why did you actually come down here?” You asked. You could sense it, there was something that he wanted to say but either changed his mind or couldn’t gather the courage. 

“Your uncle worked with super soldiers, right?” He asked. You were shocked by the unexpected question and suddenly nervous. Nobody on the team knew you had some variant of the serum coursing through you. It was part of the reason you worked out at night when everyone was asleep. So nobody could see the obvious above-average strength that you carried 

“He was fascinated by them, yes.” You finally replied. “He tried many times to recreate the serum but failed.” 

“Are you trying to recreate it?” 

Your heart nearly stopped beating and your face went ghostly white at the question. Tony pulled out one of your older notebooks from behind his back. It was the one you used for antidote equations. 

“Please give that back.” You asked quietly. 

“I was looking for your research on the medicines, because I’m allowed to do that since I fund your whole project, and I came across that. I didn’t mean to, but now that I have I’m concerned.” 

“No, it’s not like that. I was…” you were scared to admit it. You were scared that the truth might slip up and come out. You weren’t ready for that to happen just yet. 

“I was trying to figure out how to reverse it.” You finally admitted, avoiding eye contact with Tony. 

Tony looked deep in thought at the book for a moment before tossing it back in your direction. You caught it with ease by the spine.

“You are one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.” 

That was his way of leaving the conversation. Your heart swelled with pride at the compliment as you looked at the book. Maybe it was time to start looking into this once again. 

The next morning the compound was alive and buzzing with commotion. Unfortunately, because you were often late going to bed you were also late to rise. It was unusual for you to get out of bed before 10:00 am. It was a good thing your boss was generous.

You often worked with the Avengers in your lab. Over the short few years there developing your father's research you accidentally created an ointment that could heal any external superficial wounds. Punctures, scrapes, and lacerations, all of which happen to be occupational hazards for the enhanced superhumans. They were fully stocked with the ointment in the med bay but, for some reason, they liked to bother you more.

Natasha was drinking a coffee and reading a book at the island in the kitchen when you strolled in still in your pajamas, looking for what scraps were left of breakfast. 

“Good morning, y/n.” She spoke smoothly. 

“Morning.” You yawned, picking up a cold piece of bacon off the plate and began munching. 

“What’s with all the commotion?” 

Natasha set down her book and turned her attention fully towards you. 

“New recruit. A friend from Steve’s childhood.” 

“Steve’s childhood?” You asked, astonished. “Isn’t he, like, 100 years old?” 

Natasha hummed a chuckle. “Yes, he is. We’re having a meeting to discuss it, I’m sure Tony wouldn’t mind if you sat in.” 

“Oh, no,” you responded quickly to the offer. “I gotta get to work. I’m sure I’ll run into him at some point.” 

Natasha smiled and stood up as a way of saying goodbye. You smiled at her as well before taking your breakfast to go towards your lab. 

You rounded the corner and stopped in the doorway, noticing a young teenager standing in the lab. He must have heard you because he whipped around and looked at you wide-eyed and surprised. 

“Hi, um, I’m Peter. Mr. Stark told me to wait here for you.” 

You chuckled at the awkwardness of his stance and speech as you walked into the room. 

“Hi Peter, I’m y/n. I’ve heard about you, you’re the spider kid, right?” You asked, noticing that he had been flipping through the notebooks you left open on the table. 

“Yeah, um, spiderman, actually.” 

You smiled at him. Tony told you about a genius superhero kid he wanted to recruit. Tony called you kid, and being 26 you definitely weren’t. You just didn’t expect this recruit to actually be a kid. You did some research into him. Even gained access to his school transcripts. He was a wickedly smart kid, particularly in science. You were looking forward to meeting him. 

“When Tony discovered you, he asked me to look into how you get around. Your webs.” You remarked. 

Peter looked down at his wrists briefly before returning his gaze to you. 

“What about them?” 

You smirked a little. 

“Do you think we could play around with them?” 

About an hour and a half later you and Peter had created a mess of your lab. Webbing was hung in every corner. Different colored webbing strands caused your lab to look like an entire case of silly string had exploded. 

When Tony walked into the lab, you and Peter were hanging in bunk bed-styled web hammocks, Peter asking you questions about his chemistry homework while you scribbled down some notes on one of the high-tech tablets. 

Both your attention turned to your boss and then you looked at each other. Tony sighed, bringing his hand to the bridge of his nose and pinching it out of frustration. 

“I should have known. Alright, y/n get back to work. Peter, you’re with me.” 

Peter's face was bright red after being scolded by Tony. You were used to it. He never punished you really, he knew you’d get your work done. Once Peter had left, you looked around the room at all the webbing strung everywhere. Peter said it would dissolve over time, but how long would that be? 

When you got to work on the prototype, time flew by. Your lab door remained closed while blasting all your favorite music. Tony had stopped by around dinner to bring you a plate and let you say goodbye to Peter before you continued in your work trance. The next time you checked to see what time it was, it was just after midnight. 

You took a moment to admire your work. Surprisingly, you’d gotten most of it done in record time. You decided you would take a break to go for a run and then stay up the rest of the night to finish it. You would sleep when it was completed. 

You had taken the long route on your run after deciding you would stay up to finish the project. You picked a trail through the trees, enjoying all the crisp earthy smells that entered your lungs. The moon was bright enough outside that you didn’t need a flashlight. You took the time to have FRIDAY read you the information available to you about the new recruit. You discovered there were a lot of information files that you didn’t have access to. You didn’t have a high clearance since you weren’t a world-saving Avenger, but it still piqued your interest. 

Once you returned from your run, you decided the best way to wake yourself up was a cold shower and a shot of espresso. You’d need the small extra boost of energy to power through. While you waited for the coffee to brew, a noise drew your attention. 

Your brain never allows you to forget a face. The photographic memory always brings a picture to the front of your mind. This picture brought back a feeling of fear and dread. Those eyes, those captivating blue eyes, and the long, dark hair. It was him. The man that terrified you, but spared your life. 

“Um,” he spoke, drawing your attention from the depths of your mind back to the dark kitchen. 

“Your coffee?” 

You looked back to the espresso machine that was spilling out onto the drip tray below. You cursed to yourself as you quickly put a cup underneath the spouts. 

“Sorry, you just… startled me.” 

You hesitated on how to continue the sentence. Surely he remembered you, right? Probably not. The winter soldier had been around for decades. 

It now made sense how he could be Steve’s childhood friend. 

He threw a half-hearted smile your way while sitting down at one of the bar stools. 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting anybody to be up this late.” He spoke quietly. You examined him for a moment. Broad shoulders and a long-sleeve shirt with a pair of gloves hid his arms, the real tell sign he was the winter soldier. Maybe you were wrong, maybe he was just a normal guy who got cold. Or maybe he had eczema. But those eyes, you could never forget those eyes. 

“Nobody usually is. I can just never get my mind to shut off long enough to sleep.” You admitted, throwing back the shot of espresso. Your face twisted up at the extreme bitterness as you turned around to rinse out the glass. 

You heard him chuckle a little. 

“I understand more than you think. But it doesn’t look like you’re trying to sleep, either.” 

It was your turn to hum a small, amused chuckle in response. 

“No, Stark’s got me on a project and I’m almost finished. I’m just going to pull an all-nighter.” 

While you were watching him, the way he moved and talked, he seemed gentle. He was trying his best to make himself seem smaller than he actually was. It was odd, this was the same man that was in front of you that day but with an entirely different demeanor. What was once rigid and intimidating was now gentle and enticing. You still couldn't get past the whole murderous assassin thing, if it weren't for that you would be enjoying the company of an attractive man. 

“Really? What do you do?” He asked. 

Your work was your passion. It’s all you wanted to do. Create medicines and machines to help people. Naturally, your face lit up as you spoke. 

“I’m a biomedical engineer. Tony is funding my fathers' research on personalized medicines. What I do is I take a scan of your brain and body, then it gives me a series of equations to create the perfectly chemically balanced medicine for you. They were only successful once with a volunteer's allergies, but I’m hopeful it will expand.” 

His face lit up slightly while watching you go on a tangent. His gaze softened and a smile crept up to his lips. 

“You look awfully young to be this far in your career.” He commented. 

“And you look awfully young to be 100.” You snapped back subconsciously. Realizing what had just come out of your unfiltered mouth, you gasped and clamped a hand over your mouth. 

“I am so sorry.” 

He chuckled from where he was in his seat and shook his head back and forth. 

“No, don’t apologize. That was good.” 

“I have a photographic memory.” You blurted out before you could embarrass yourself further. 

“I’m somewhat of a genius, by technical standards I suppose.”

“That’s very lucky. Your father must be proud.” He hummed. 

“He would be.” 

Your heart sank a little. You knew your father would have been proud of you. Especially with everything you’ve been through. Truthfully, you didn’t feel your gift was luck. It was forced upon you. Not that you weren’t grateful to be smart, it just wasn’t something you would have chosen willingly. A gift laced with guilt and shame. It was part of the reason you wanted to create an antidote. Just in case there was part of you that wanted to go back to simpler things, and maybe that would be available to him one day as well. 

The man seemed to notice the past tense of the phrase you used and frowned a little. It was obvious he tried to switch topics very quickly. 

“So, what are you working on with Tony?” 

You were grateful to be off that topic, happily jumping to the next one. 

“We’re working on some prosthetics for Rhodes. I’m going to use the brain scanning technology to try and create an external neurotransmitter system that will allow him to have full function of his limbs as if they were never injured. All, with a sleek design that would be practically undetectable when worn underneath clothing.”

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes wide and bright as a smile formed on his lips. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman as extraordinary as you.” 

You felt a heat rise to your face that you quickly dismissed with a wave of the hand. On one side of the coin, that compliment nearly made your heart jump from your chest. On the other, he was still the world's most notorious super soldier assassin. And he was acting like he didn’t know you. Or perhaps, didn’t remember? 

“There’s this great running trail through the trees. If you go down to the training center and out the east door it’ll lead you right to it. It’s usually what I do when I can’t sleep.” You offered, deciding it was best that you got back to your work as quickly as possible. 

The man’s face lit up once again as he looked out the windows and then back in your direction. 

“That sounds great, actually. I’ll do that. Thank you, um…” he paused, looking to you for confirmation of your name. 

“Y/n.” You realized you had gone through that entire conversation not introducing yourselves. You had remembered his name from the file and just assumed he knew you. You aren’t an Avenger so it was a silly thing to assume.  

“And it’s James, right?” 

“Yeah, James. But you can call me Bucky.” Bucky replied, standing up from his chair. 

“Bucky it is then. It was nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself. 

“I’ll see you around, Y/n.” 

Your feelings were conflicted the entire time you continued to work on the project. You enjoyed the conversation and enjoyed his company. Truthfully if you didn’t need to get back to work you could have talked to him all night. If it weren’t for the damn fact that you could remember his face. The Winter Soldier. Of course, you would find yourself attracted to him. 

“Fuck me.” You grumbled. 

After what felt like hours of working, you took a step back to look at the wire-covered model on the mannequin in front of you. You smiled gently. It was exactly how you had drawn it. And, to make it easier on yourself, you had created it in a way that if Tony liked it you could start right away on the actual model. You looked down at your watch to check the time. 

8:27 am. 

Well, it’s not the longest you’ve stayed up, but it certainly is the longest in months. You exited your lab and made your way down the maze of hallways. The unfamiliar sound of chatter made itself present as you approached the kitchen for a snack before heading to bed. 

You rounded the corner, the sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows blinding you. The white noise of conversation stopped and by the time your eyes adjusted to the light, you discovered everyone was staring at you. 

“What?” You asked, picking up an apple off the counter. 

“It’s 8:30 am,” Steve commented from his place at the stove, flipping pancakes. 

“Thanks, captain obvious.” You grumbled before taking a bite of the apple. 

Snickers broke out in the group before Natasha spoke up next. 

“You’re never up this early.” 

“That’s because I haven’t gone to bed yet.” You smiled as the group broke off into another fit of laughter. You noticed Bucky sitting off to the side, somewhat isolated but still close enough to engage in conversation. He smiled at you gently, which you returned. 

“If anyone sees Tony tell him my prototype is complete. But from me, good morning, good afternoon, and goodnight.” 

A symphony of different farewells followed you from the group as you made your way to your room. You didn’t bother to change, falling asleep as soon as your head hit your pillow. 

Bucky hadn’t stopped thinking about you from the moment he met you. From the moment he saw you, there was a pull. He felt it in his heart like a magnet. 

While he and Steve were throwing around the shield on the front lawn, he asked questions about you. What did you do during the day, where was your lab, and what were you like to be around? Steve answered all the questions with a mischievous smile. 

“Leave it to you to get the hots for a girl on your first day.” Steve teased. 

Bucky laid in bed thinking about it. He thought about your face, how familiar you looked. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the face you made whenever you first laid eyes on him in the kitchen. The face of someone who had met the winter soldier. For the life of him, he just couldn’t remember where. 

There was no way he was sleeping. Not for a while at least, if at all. He got up and got dressed in some workout clothes. He figured he would take this opportunity to ask you to go on a run, and maybe get to know you better. 

He knew he was screwed when he started to wonder what you would think of his outfit. He changed his shirt twice before grumpily giving up. Using the instructions Steve had given him on how to get to your lab, he was off on his quest. A pep in his step and a nervous flutter in his stomach. 

Your lab was at the end of a hallway, the wall lined with glass windows and a glass door so he could see what you were doing. He watched you sway to the music while you tinkered with some wires on the table. He looked at the prototype on the mannequin's legs and smiled. You really did work fast. 

As he approached the closed door he could hear the music playing. It sounded familiar to him, but he wasn’t sure why. He slowly opened the glass door but it was obvious you didn’t hear him because you didn’t look up. You kept singing along to the song playing. 

I finished my mission. Eliminate Harold L/n and leave no witnesses. It was quite easy, an unmarried man in an estate too large for his own good. Nobody would miss him. 

As I was heading back to the exit, I heard a soft voice talking. No, not talking, singing. I growled in annoyance. Of course, someone was here at this ungodly hour of the night, why wouldn’t they be? It was just my luck. 

I followed the gentle sounds of the song down a flight of stairs to what looked like an unused basement. To my right, I saw a faint yellow light coming from the window in one of the doors. I slowly approached, opened the door, and slipped inside. 

As I approached, I noticed it was a woman. She had heard me because the music shut off and she looked around frantically. She hadn’t seen me yet, but she already looked terrified of getting caught. 

I stepped into the light and made eye contact with her. Big, round, beautiful e/c eyes staring back at me. The fear turned into recognition. What she said to me took me by surprise. 

“I know who you are.” 

She knows me? How could a scientist have known who I was? It was more likely she was in on the serum recreation. She probably had to learn about me and study me. 

“Did you come here to kill my uncle?” 

Her uncle, great. Family member as a witness. Let’s hope his brother isn’t around anymore. 

I nodded in response to her question. 

“Did you do it?” She asked again, her voice coming out with a twinge of desperation. Confused by her question, I simply nodded again. 

Then, she did something unexpected. Her whole body relaxed like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she thanked me. She thanked me. It nearly made me tear up hearing those words. It has been a very very long time since anybody has shown me gratitude. Especially for killing their relatives. I was even more confused now about how she knew who I was. Was she forced to research the serum? Was that what she was doing now? Surely not, not this late anyway. 

I pointed to the work behind her and she accepted my action as the question I was trying to ask. 

“I’m trying to fix it. Fix us.” 

I was left with more questions than answers. There were probably a million different things that she could be talking about. My mind held out hope that one was true; the serum. And us, made me think she had it too. 

I looked down at my gun, then back at the woman. If HYDRA found out I had left a witness, there’s no telling what would become of me. Although, something deep inside of me pulled for her to survive, to spare her. In the small chance, it was the serum she was trying to reverse, I needed to let her live. So despite direct orders, I left. 

“Earth to Bucky!” 

Y/n’s voice brought Bucky back to reality. The memory had hit him like a truck. The song you were listening to triggered the memory back into his brain. He was right, you had known him. Why didn’t you say anything?

“Huh, what?” Bucky responded to your attempt at grabbing his attention. 

“I said are you okay, do you need something? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

You were sitting in your rolling chair, arms across your chest as you watched him, your head tilted. 

“No, I’m good. I forgot why I came here actually. Goodnight.” Bucky said to you as he tried to leave the room as quickly as possible. He had hardly let you get out the words good night before shutting the door and disappearing into the compound. 

For the last half hour, you had been thinking about how odd Bucky had acted. He came to your lab, opened the door, then changed his mind and left. In truth, it disrupted your thoughts so much that you had to stop and take a break from work. 

You made your way down to the training center, preparing your headphones for your run through the trees. Had to take advantage of the moon being at its peak. 

Once you entered the training room you noticed a familiar figure at the punching bags. There was one already broken and seeping sand on the floor. You swallowed as you approached, hoping to catch his attention before you got there. 

“Bucky?” You asked, but he kept going. 

You walked around to his left side, standing to the side. Now there was no way he could use the excuse of not hearing you. 

“Bucky.” You said but got ignored again. 

Now frustrated, you shifted your positioning so you were now looking him in the eyes while he wailed into the punching bag. Frustration boiled inside of you. So much, so that while he was in the drawback of one of his punches, you stuck your hand out and caught him before it hit the bag. 

Your hand stung as it collided with the hard surface underneath his boxing wrap. Instinctively you brought your hand to your stomach and held onto it. 

“Holy shit that hurt.” You hissed as you doubled over and favored your hand. 

You looked up at Bucky and saw the shocked expression on his face as he stared at you. 

“You couldn’t have worn a short sleeve shirt or something? Shit.” You flicked your hand to try and shake the pain away. 

“How did you do that?” He asked. You looked at him, making strong eye contact as your heart began to beat out of your chest. 

“I used to do jujitsu.” You attempted to explain. 

“That wasn’t jujitsu, you stopped my metal arm mid-swing. How did you do that?” Bucky started to get more demanding. You hadn’t told anyone you had the serum, you wouldn't let anybody here figure that out. So to avoid that conversation, you turned to walk away. 

“That’s not important. I was going to invite you on a run but you can forget about that now.” You said sassily. 

“I’m sorry I was just-“ Bucky started, watching you walk away from him. “Wait, please.” 

The command triggered the obedience in your mind, causing you to become frustrated. Although, you were good at working around it. He said to wait, he didn’t say for how long. So you only stopped for a second before you kept walking. 

“Stop walking away and talk to me, y/n,” Bucky called after you again. 

Your feet stopped moving before your brain could even register the sentence. This time you couldn’t work your way around it. The command was direct and specific. No trying to cheat the system now. You turned around sassily, standing with your weight on your dominant foot. 

“What?” You responded dryly. 

“How did you do that?” He asked, a slightly demanding tone to his voice. 

“It’s not your business.” You responded quickly. 

“Be honest with me please y/n.” 

You fought with the internal motive within your body. You struggled not to outright admit to it. Usually, you could control your own verbal choices with a little mental override effort. 

“You once told me that you were trying to fix us. Do you have the serum?” 

Your heart nearly dropped out of your chest. 

“You remember.” You marveled. 

“I didn’t until earlier. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I’m sorry, I assumed you remembered.” 

It wasn’t until Bucky brought his hands up to his hair that you noticed the blood-stained boxing wraps around his knuckles. 

“You’re bleeding.” You commented, taking a step towards him. 

“And you’re a super soldier!” He spat out the words like they were poison. 

You stormed up to him, inches from his face with fire coming out of your ears. You brought up an accusing finger in warning. 

“Shut up. You don’t speak another word of this. Nobody else knows. I wanted to keep it that way.” 

You didn’t consider yourself a threatening person, but Bucky’s eyes widened as he nodded with understanding. The little bit of power you felt in that moment was an ego boost. You reached down and grabbed him by the wrist to guide him back to your lab. 

Once you were there, you shut and locked the door behind you. 

“Sit.” You commanded him. He obeyed, taking a seat in the rolling stool as he watched you walk around your lab to gather an ointment and a wet towel. 

You sat down in front of him and unwrapped his knuckles. It was clear that he started without his fists wrapped and then decided to halfway through. 

“Yes. My uncle used me as a test subject for his version of the serum.” You explained while cleaning the area of the wound for him. 

I opened the ointment jar and pulled out a generous amount. 

“This shouldn’t hurt, but it might tingle slightly.” You warned. 

“What is it?” Bucky asked. 

You began applying a thin layer to his cracked knuckles as you explained. 

“An ointment I accidentally created. It heals pretty much all superficial wounds within minutes.” 

Bucky was silent as he watched you work. Once you were done, he watched his knuckles carefully. It began to generate a dull tingle on the edges of the cracks. He watched as the small cracks in his skin began to mend and heal before his eyes. 

His eyes returned to yours with a look of amazement. 

“That’s incredible.”

“Thank you.” You responded while trying to clean up after yourself. 

“Your uncle… What was he trying to change with the serum?” Bucky asked. 

It was difficult for you to decide whether or not to tell him. You hardly knew him, but something inside of you wanted someone to confide in. If anyone was going to understand it was going to be him. You thought about opening up to Steve, but he was always so busy. This was a huge secret that you didn’t want to get out. 

“It was a long time ago.” 

“You might be the only person that understands me.” Bucky said quietly, Causing you to turn around and look at him. His face was lost, almost puppy dog-like. You could almost see the desperation in his blue eyes. He held out his hand for you to take. You hesitated, wanting to reach out but that part of you so long ago kept your hand restrained. 

“I’m sorry, for everything,” Bucky whispered, the look on his face sincere. 

“I promise I won’t hurt you. That’s not me anymore. If you could spare me a bit of your time, I’ll prove it to you.” 

You couldn’t help but feel your heart ache for the man in front of you. It was clear to you that maybe he needed someone to confide in as much as you did. You reached your hand out and took his. 

Bucky looked relieved, his head dropping to look at his lap as he squeezed your hand. 

“Thank you.” 

You pulled up a stool to sit in front of him, preparing to lay out your biggest secret to him. 

“My uncle wanted to create a serum that would allow him to control armies of soldiers without having to use brainwashing. His serum would make them obedient to a fault so that they wouldn’t know what they were doing was wrong in the first place.” 

You could see the fear in his eyes when he asked; 

“Did it work?” 

“Well, I only got about 75% of the strength, but for some reason, the serum made me extremely smart. It’s what gave me a photographic memory.” You explained. 

“What about the obedience?” He seemed to be the most concerned about that bit. From what you could guess, he was worried that it would have been successful. 

“It didn’t work entirely.” You were hesitant to explain out of fear it could be used against you. “I can control it most of the time. Find ways around it but, a direct command is a direct command. And my body won’t let me ignore it.” 

Bucky’s face dropped into devastation. Truthfully, you had never seen anybody look more distraught. 

“In the training center when I told you to stop,” 

“No,” you jumped at the chance to interrupt him before he could continue. 

“Don’t-“ 

“I am so sorry.” He looked genuinely upset. 

“Don’t apologize to me Bucky, you had no idea.” 

“No, y/n, you have no idea how much this means to me.” 

He met your eyes, an intense seriousness to them. You remembered at that moment that the winter soldier was controllable by whoever said the code. Why had you thought he would use it against you? If anything, he was the only one who understood what you were going through. 

Bucky stood up and began to pace the room. You could almost see the thoughts gathering together in his mind. 

“I promise you, that will never happen again. I’m going to make sure that never happens to you again.” 

“Nobody else knows about this. Not even Tony, please don’t tell anybody.” You begged. 

“Nobody is going to know.” He snapped in such a serious tone that it surprised you. 

The room filled with a silence that was neither comforting nor awkward. You looked down at your hands while Bucky was standing off somewhere in the room. You were going to have to get over this irrational fear of being around him. You from years ago would need to let go of everything because you now needed a friend, and The Winter Soldier might just be your unlikely friend. 

After gathering some courage, you stood up from your chair, catching Bucky’s attention. He turned to face you and looked at you expectantly. You slowly walked towards him until you were only a few feet apart. You held your breath as you pulled him towards you and entrapped him in a hug. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around you and gave you a gentle squeeze. 

It was comforting to feel his heart racing just as badly as yours was. You finally let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

“Thank you for listening.” You whispered. 

A hum vibrated around inside Bucky’s rib cage before he replied; 

“Thank you for trusting me.” 

It had been a little over three weeks since you started the Rhodes project and you were between a rock and a hard place. Each day was another attempt and each day a new failure. You had stopped sleeping, and even skipped meals to ensure you had extra time to work on the project. Due to the heightened abilities of your mind, the lack of sleep affected you differently.  Was it healthy, probably not. Could you still function? Yes. 

Bucky often came to sit with you and visit you. He would try his best to understand what you were trying to do, even trying to help where he could. But most of the time, he would bring you meals, and the two of you would just sit and enjoy conversations. 

Other times, he knew that he could get some alone time away from the other Avengers if he needed it. It didn’t happen often, but when it did he just sat in the corner and read books trying to catch up on the last few decades. 

Unfortunately, the last couple of days most of the Avengers were out on a mission so you hadn’t had a lot of company. You worked endlessly trying to figure out where you were going wrong. The last few days blended and you couldn’t recall the last time you had slept. 

While making yourself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, Tony strolled in for the morning. He stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on you. 

“You look like shit, Sherlock.” He remarked. 

You rolled your eyes a little, being sleep deprived made you a little irritable. 

“Thank you, that’s great to hear.” 

“When’s the last time you slept?” Tony asked. 

You stayed silent, looking down at your coffee as you aimlessly stirred it around. 

“Y/n-“ 

“I’m really close, I can feel it!” You protested. 

“Go to sleep, right now. Go to your room and sleep.” Tony instructed. 

You felt your heart tighten in disappointment slightly. You knew that Tony wasn’t upset, he cared about you just like the rest of his staff. No matter how badly you wanted to stay up and finish your project, you had to listen. 

With your head hung low, you left the kitchen and walked towards the hallway where the bedrooms were. You had only made it about halfway down the hallway before a hand caught your arm. 

You looked up to meet the eyes of Bucky who was looking down at you with a sad expression. 

“Do you want to?” 

“What?” You questioned, your body subconsciously trying to slowly pry itself away from his grasp to go to your room. 

“Do you want to go to sleep?” He said again more gently this time. 

You sighed. 

“I need to, but no. I am frustrated that I can’t figure this out.” 

Bucky bit his bottom lip like he was deep in thought. 

“I have an idea that might be able to help you. But after that, you really should get some sleep. You look tired, doll.” 

You smiled at him and nodded, excited for what his idea might be. 

“Do you want to go back to your lab?” He asked. 

“Yes, I do.” You responded. 

Bucky had kept his promise to help you have control of your actions. You had noticed he changed his wording around you. He carefully chose his words so that he was never directly instructing you. Whatever he did, he always left you a choice. You also decided that if you were ever doing something you didn’t want to do, he had to ask permission first to redirect your mind. It was a sweet gesture. You never had to implement it until now. 

“Then get back to your lab.” He said with a cheeky smile. 

The two of you walked back to your lab, careful as to not be seen by Tony as you ran for the elevator. Once you were in your lab, you locked the door and asked Friday to dim the windows so nobody could see inside. 

“Alright,” you turned eagerly towards him. “What is this thing to help me?”

Bucky gave me a weak smile as he began to take off his jacket, revealing a short sleeve shirt underneath. For as long as you had known him, he always wore a long sleeve shirt or a jacket. He never let his metal arm show out of fear of making others uncomfortable. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about asking him to look at it for your project, but that thought only crossed your mind once. 

“I thought that maybe you could look at my arm and it might push you in the direction you need to go.” 

A wide and bright smile covered your face at his gesture. The vulnerability he was showing you right now caused a new light to shine down on him. He trusted you, and you weren't going to break that now. 

“Let's try it! Sit down on the chair, please.” You instructed. 

Bucky nodded, walking over to one of the rolling chairs and taking a seat. You approached him and took his metal hand in yours. You ran your fingers up the cold, smooth material until you hit the sleeve of his shirt. You looked at the cotton fabric and then sideways at Bucky who met your gaze. You were embarrassed to ask, but you needed to see the full piece. You avoided his eye contact and felt a heat rise to your face as you asked. 

“Could you take this off for me?”

Bucky smirked a little as he grabbed at his shirt and easily slid it off his torso. “I usually wait until someone’s bought me dinner first.”

A burning heat rose to your face at the comment and you grumbled a curse word at him playfully. It was hard to ignore that he was a lot more muscular than you first thought. As awful as it sounds, you forced yourself not to stare. 

Your hand slid up the smooth metal of his arm and felt all the moving pieces and joints. Considering how long ago this was created, the technology was seriously impressive. 

“I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder, is that okay?”

 You asked and he nodded in response. 

You gently placed the palm of your left hand on the scarred area where metal met flesh. You felt your heartstrings tug slightly in sadness for what he went through. You pushed away that feeling and kept working. You held his arm in different positions and instructed him to stretch his fingers and then make a fist. Your right hand slid down the metal arm and you took his hand in yours while keeping your left hand on his shoulder. “Squeeze my hand please.” You instructed. Bucky gave your hand a gentle squeeze. When you were satisfied, you moved the placement of your left hand and asked him to squeeze again. He followed your instructions. 

You pulled your hands back and looked at him. He had an unfamiliar look on his face. A combination of a soft smile and wondrous eyes. 

“What?” You asked, suddenly feeling bashful underneath his blue gaze. 

“I just love watching you work.” Bucky shrugged. 

A head radiated on your face that you had to shove aside to move on to the next step in the process. 

“Would you mind going into the scanner? It'll only take 5 minutes.”

He looked back at the machine and then back at me with a hesitant look.

“I’ll be there the whole time.” You reassured him. 

Bucky looked up at you with a soft smile and a nod. You opened the glass door to the scanning machine and gestured for him to step inside. He followed instructions, standing in the center of the machine while the door slid closed. You made sure he could still see you through the glass door while you pulled up the computer and booted up the system. The machine first took his height, weight, and BMI, and logged it into his profile. While it was scanning him, you filled in the physical descriptions for the volunteer applicant notes. 

You kept an eye on the scanning program while filling out the form. As the scan developed you noticed something that forced you to flip over to his scan. Abnormalities in the prefrontal lobe and hippocampus, the two main regions of the brain that store memory. 

His scans were almost completed when you started to notice something. The machine took a scan of the internal structure of his metal arm as well as the outside. You zoomed in on the components within the mechanism. You noticed the way that the nerves of his arm connected to the wiring of the arm. It was a sloppy job, you could have done so much better. 

While staring intensely at the screen, you noticed something within the wiring and connections that gave you an idea for your project. As your brain was processing the information you were seeing, Bucky exited the scanner and walked over to you by the computer. He leaned down over your shoulder to get a closer look. 

“Woah, is that me? That’s pretty cool.” 

He noticed your intense staring at the computer with a look of shocked realization on your face. “Are you okay?” 

“That’s it.” You whispered. 

“What’s it?” Bucky asked, trying to get you to say your thoughts aloud. 

“That’s it that's exactly what I needed!” Your excitement and joy were obvious in the tone of your voice. You looked over at Bucky who met you with a smile as equally excited as yours. 

“I could kiss you! Oh my gosh, thank you!” You raved as you scrambled for a tablet to write down all the thoughts in your brain. 

Bucky chuckled and straightened his posture. 

“Don’t let me stop you.”

Instincts took over as you rolled onto your toes and pressed your lips onto Buckys. He was too shocked to react before you pulled away from him with a smirk on your face. His face was red with a growing smile creeping its way onto them. 

“Did I do that?” he asked, scared he might have made you do something you didn’t want to do. 

“No.” You responded with a sweet smile. 

“I did.” 

A smile filled with adoration appeared on his face as he looked at you. Bucky leaned down and kissed your lips again. His lips were slightly chapped and the stubble on his face tickled your chin. He tasted sweet and minty, leaving you wanting more as he pulled away.

“I’ll cover for you while you work.” Bucky offered before placing another quick kiss on your lips. He headed for the door, grabbing and putting on his shirt on before reaching the handle.

“I thought I had to go to sleep?” You questioned. 

Bucky paused halfway through the door and turned to face you. 

“We both know you’re not going to sleep until it’s done. 

Your project was complete and fully functional. It felt like you had just climbed mount everest for this accomplishment, but it was done. 

You left your lab in the late evening, sleep finally catching up to you. You entered the common room from the elevator and noticed most of the Avengers watching a movie in the living room. You made a lazy attempt at greeting your friends. 

“Y/n,” Tony called which stopped you in your tracks.  

“I told you to go to bed six hours ago.” He commented, checking his watch for the time.

“You did.” You agreed. 

“The prosthetic is done, by the way. Now I’m going to sleep.”

You dismissed yourself from the conversation, but not before making eye contact with Bucky who sat next to Steve on the couch. He smirked a little and gave you a wink. You reciprocated it before continuing to make your way toward your bedroom. Before you shut the door, you heard Tony say; 

“Did you have something to do with this, Barnes?”

Part 1/2

A/N

I would love to take inspiration from readers any put them into stories and shorts! Please don’t hesitate to message me directly or use my ask inbox! 💜💜

#marvel #marvel characters #marvel mcu #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #chris evans #weiner soldier #sebastian stan #winter soldier #captian america #steve rogers #falcon and the winter soldier #marvel fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #sam wilson #hail hydra #black widow #mcu #the winter soldier #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky fluff #winter solider imagine #winter solider x you

[moonlight-tmd]

Alright new AU!

Cyberbeast AU.

Legends on Cybertron tell of various creatures; one legend in particular tells of great beasts whose power is unmatchable to anyone except themselves- the Cyberbeasts. It is said that only those chosen by Allspark itself receive the blessing. Many believe that Cyberbeasts are just a legend told by Creators to their Sparklings as a berthtime story.

Ok so- Cyberbeasts are generally stronger than an ordinary bot, even when they aren't in Beast Mode. They are unusually strong and durable in and out of combat.

It's almost impossible to tell if a Transformer is a Cyberbeast, the only way is to either witness them transform into Beast Mode or have an anomaly sensitive radar; Whenever a Cyberbeast transforms into Beast Mode, the anomaly is detected in the place they did it. Cyberbeast Hunters use them to hunt down and eliminate Cyberbeasts because they think they're dangerous, many others take them as crazy cuz it's a legend. Cyberbeasts live in hiding and only show up when absolutely necessary for their survival.

One doesn't realize they're a Cyberbeast until they are old enough to understand the concept; thru some important event they realize- once they have that Awakening about their true self, they are able to transform into their Beast Mode; think of it like werewolves- except they can change on command. When in Beast Mode, they can adapt to their envoroment; for example they can change their legs into a fin to swim or transform their arms into wings netted with holo-fabric(similar to wyvern wings). The rest of the frame also changes slightly to fit.

Few of the Cybertronian forged have this blessing, but from those we know; Megatron, Shockwave/Longarm, and Bumblebee are Cyberbeasts. Blitzwing counts as 1/3rd Cyberbeast because Blackarachnia used Cyberbeast blood to strengthen his triplechanger upgrade- he doesn't know he's part-cyberbeast tho. Nobody knows they are Cyberbeasts too.

The idea originally existed around Bumblebee: when he and his team first found the Allspark, he had his Awakening. Once they got to Earth, he started sneaking out to discover and explore his abilities.

I think his Beast Mode would look like these chinese dragons, except the body is short, the tail is hella long tho. Maybe i'll make a coherent picture of it in the future, right now you have a description:

-He has like, feathers of some sort- a great plume around his neck and a brush going from the half to the end his tail. The feathers are the same shade of blue as his optics and have a glow to them. The Autobot insignia is hidden by the plume. -Optics; when he is cybertronian they are normal(blue with white pupils), once he enters Beast Mode/goes feral(literally. not as in he's annoying gremlin) they turn black with blue ovals as the pupils. -His plating is still yellow, it also has a little more black to it. Maybe some biolight dots along his back. Plus some tiny white details for fun. Defo some pattern in there too. -His vehicle mode is kind of showing thru in Beast Mode- the tires are in his shoulders and hind legs, there's headlights n such. -His legs are digitigrade when is Beast Mode, despite more animalistic build, he can switch between walking on 2 or 4 limbs. -The 'nose' extends to be a beak and his horns are longer, kind of antler-like but no branching out, they are just long. -While his servos are clawed, his pedes are more like hooves but they're still clawed? It's weird.

here's some other things about Bee: -Very sharp denta(teeth). He can chew thru metal even while cybertronian. -Exeptionally durable during combat. Even when he's hit with lethal injury, somehow this fucker survives. Surprisingly high pain tolerance. -Electricity seems to do almost no damage to him, he is the type of Cyberbeast that utilize the electricity to their advantage and are immune to the damage it causes. -He can act as a light when it's dark. He'll make his feathers and biolights glow brightly to illuminate the surroundings. -He can make little lights that look like fireflies.

I imagine a time where the hunters came to earth with the intention of either killing or capturing Bee. He was out on patrol and bumped into the fellas. He came back to base impaled by a harpoon and 23 holo-bolts (arrows).

Just now i realize how fuckin miraculous Bee is XD Poor Ratchet, trying to figure out why the fuck this kid hasn't died yet.

#maccadam #tfa bumblebee #tfa blitzwing #tfa megatron #tfa shockwave #tfa longarm #long post #cyberbeast au #tfa au #tfa

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Scientists develop composite accelerometer for extreme environments

The demand for microelectromechanical systems (MEMS) resilient to harsh environments is growing. Silicon-based MEMS struggle under extreme conditions, limited by their performance at elevated temperatures. Silicon carbide (SiC) stands out as a promising solution, offering unmatched thermal, electrical, and mechanical advantages for creating enduring MEMS. Despite its potential, SiC MEMS development is challenged by the intricacies of bulk micromachining, calling for innovative strategies to harness SiC's strengths in crafting robust devices. In response, scientists have crafted an accelerometer using a novel silicon carbide-carbon nanotube (SiC-CNT) composite, capable of enduring severe environmental stress. Published in Microsystems & Nanoengineering in April 2024, this research unveils a revolutionary material fusion, merging SiC's durability with the versatility and conductive qualities of CNTs.

Read more.

#Materials Science #Science #Composites #MEMS #Silicon #Silicon carbide #Carbides #Carbon nanotubes #Nanotechnology #Carbon #Nanotubes

[i-am-blue15]

If the Mystery Kids had Symbiotes

Raz: Psycho

Colors: Green with Red

Special Ability: Getting access into Raz's brain grants it not only his many psychic powers but also a new ability to control the minds of a select few in close proximity.

Lili: Wildfire

Colors: Dark Magenta with Green

Special Ability: This symbiote is actually impervious to extreme heat, making it one of the most resilient of it's kind, and can even control plant life to some degree thanks to it's host's specialty in herbaphony.

Dipper: Nightmare

Colors: Dark Purple with Red

Special Ability: It can morph new and different body parts such as extra eyes, heads, arms and mouths, a tail, wings and even go full quadruped like a goopy alien panther.

Mabel: Hysteria

Colors: Yellow with Pink, Purple, Green and Orange

Special Ability: Probably the most quick and agile of the Symbiotes. It's speed is so drastic, it's difficult to keep eyes on them and dodge it's attacks before it's too late.

Coraline: Shadow

Colors: Black with Blue

Special Ability: Has a cloaking ability, turning itself and it's host invisible. It's the most stealthy of it's kind.

Wybie: Overdrive

Colors: Silver with Black and Green

Special Ability: It can break small pieces of itself to possess machines and electronics like cars, construction equipment, etc.

Norman: Poltergeist

Colors: Dark Green with Light Green

Special Ability: By bonding with Norman, this Symbiote has access to his unawakened medium potential, allowing it to generate spectral lighting and even levitating off the ground like a mad poltergeist (hence the name).

Neil: Quake

Colors: Red with Orange

Special Ability: It's durability and strength are nearly unmatched, capable of creating shockwaves that can take you flying.

#mystery kids #venom #venom symbiote #gravity falls #dipper pines #mabel pines #psychonauts #raz #razputin aquato #lili zanotto #coraline #coraline jones #wybie lovat #paranorman #norman babcock #neil downe

[sinkorhair]

Crochet Twist Hair: Time to Revamp your Style

Crochet twist hair is a popular protective hairstyle that has gained significant popularity in recent years. This innovative styling technique involves using a crochet needle to weave extensions into the natural hair, creating a seamless and natural-looking hairstyle. Crochet twist hair offers numerous benefits, such as versatility, low maintenance, and the ability to protect the natural hair from damage caused by daily styling. Additionally, this hairstyle allows for various creative and customizable looks, making it a favorite choice among individuals seeking a stylish and unique appearance.

Features of Crochet Twist Hair

Afro-American women choose to put on crochet twists hair because of many reasons. These include longevity, convenience, versatility, low maintenance, and protective styling. Here is a brief explanation of all these features:

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Surprise Yourself with The Charm of Crochet Twist Hair

Are you seeking the most outstanding Crochet Twist Hair extensions? Sinkor Hair is the right place. Explore a range of hair care products specially designed for black women. We have the perfect, elegantly finished Crochet Twist Hair extensions you can wear for a casual outing or formal event. The gorgeous texture, unmatched versatility, and durability make it the ultimate choice. So, wear it conveniently and express your elegant style. Immerse yourself in the charm of Crochet Twist Hair and take your hair game to the next level.

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Redefine grace and beauty with the most magnificent Crochet Twist Hair. Sprinkle the extraordinary from your distinct personality and indulge in the trendiest hairstyles. The best Crochet Twist Hair lets you flaunt your curls confidently everywhere. To buy the best Crochet Twist Hair extensions and want to know more about our products, visit our website or the link provided below.

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#sinkorhair #hairextensions #hairstyle #crochet hair extensions #crochet hair #crochet twist hair

[diabolus1exmachina]

SSC Tuatara (1 of 100). 

The jet fighter inspired teardrop canopy, which is suspended within the dynamic fuselage body, is complemented by vertical stabilizing fins at the rear, revealing the cars stunning speed capabilities. The streamlined design has been tuned to produce a near perfect front to rear aero balance, incredible thermal efficiency to ensure stability at all speeds up to its terminal ground velocity along with unrivaled high speed acceleration. The design of the Tuatara goes further than visual appearance. The intentional design of the body was meticulously crafted to carry the car through the air with unprecedented ease. Boasting an industry leading coefficient of drag of 0.279, the Tuatara is well balanced between unmatched aerodynamics and precision downforce at top speed.Rear static winglets, side mounted buttresses, forward static wing, and a rear active wing manipulate the smooth flowing air to distribute precision down force on the wheels. Air is also diverted to intakes that efficiently cool the powerful drive train, then expelled through perforations in the body to sustain the deliberate airflow. Downforce is systematically applied across the hypercar, providing perfect balance at all speeds.The heart of the Tuatara is an engineering masterpiece in and of itself. Years of meticulous design and engineering at SSC North America culminated into unadulterated power generated from an engine built from the ground up exclusively for the Tuatara. The smooth, balanced power produced offers both incredible performance and a unique hypercar experience. To ensure the engine met the standards of quality, performance, and durability that the hypercar market demands, SSC North America partnered with Nelson Racing Engines to fabricate and manufacture the V8 engine that powers this next generation hypercar.The Tuatara’s unprecedented power is transferred to a CIMA 7 speed transmission, integrated with a state-of-the-art Automac AMT system that operates the engagement and selection of movement in the gearbox. The system includes hydraulic driven components and sensors to produce high force engagement, position accuracy, and load control within milliseconds. The clutch and gear selection actuation are electrically operated, providing high precision and strategic operation. The core of the system is powered by a powerful automotive microprocessor, ensuring exceptional safety and performance.

#SSC Tuatara

[schafpudel]

This extremely interesting article is locked behind a paywall, so I've... cracked open the page source for the lovely people of tumblr and re-transcribed the article. Have fun.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deep in the forests of Germany, nestled neatly into the hollowed-out shells of acorns, live a smattering of ants who have stumbled upon a fountain of youth. They are born workers, but do not do much work. Their days are spent lollygagging about the nest, where their siblings shower them with gifts of food. They seem to elude the ravages of old age, retaining a durably adolescent physique, their outer shells soft and their hue distinctively tawny. Their scent, too, seems to shift, wafting out an alluring perfume that endears them to others. While their sisters, who have nearly identical genomes, perish within months of being born, these death-defying insects live on for years and years and years.

They are Temnothorax ants, and their elixirs of life are the tapeworms that teem within their bellies—parasites that paradoxically prolong the life of their host at a strange and terrible cost.

A few such life-lengthening partnerships have been documented between microbes and insects such as wasps, beetles, and mosquitoes. But what these ants experience is more extreme than anything that’s come before, says Susanne Foitzik, an entomologist at Johannes Gutenberg University Mainz, in Germany, who studies the ants and their tapeworms. Infected Temnothorax ants live at least three times longer than their siblings, and perhaps much more, she and her colleagues report in a study published today in Royal Society Open Science. No one is yet sure when the insects’ longevity tops out, but the answer is probably in excess of a decade, approaching or even matching that of ant queens, who can survive up to 20 years.

“Some other parasites do extend life spans,” Shelley Adamo, a parasite expert at Dalhousie University, in Nova Scotia, who was not involved in the study, told me. “But not like this. Under typical circumstances, Temnothorax ants live as most other ants do. They reside in communities ruled by a single fertile queen attended by a legion of workers whose professional lives take a predictable trajectory. They first tend the queen’s eggs as nurses, then graduate into foraging roles that take them outside the nest. Apart from the whole freaky parasite thing, “they are pretty boring,” Foitzik told me.

Normalcy goes out the door, however, when Temnothorax larvae ingest tapeworm-egg-infested bird feces trucked in by foragers. The parasites hatch and set up permanent residence in the young ants’ abdomens, where they can access a steady stream of nutrients. In return, they offer their host an unconventional renter’s fee: an extra-long life span that Foitzik and her colleagues managed to record in real time.

The researchers spent three years monitoring dozens of Temnothorax colonies in the lab, comparing the fates of workers who’d fallen prey to the parasites and those who remained infection-free. By the end of their experiment, almost every single one of the hundreds of worm-free workers had, unsurprisingly, died. But more than half the parasitized workers were still kicking—about the same proportion as the colonies’ ultra-long-lived queens. “That was amazing to see,” Biplabendu Das, an ant biologist and parasite expert at the University of Central Florida, who wasn’t involved in the study, told me. And despite their old age, the ants’ bodies still bore the hallmarks of youth. They were difficult to distinguish from uninfected nurses, who are usually the most juvenile members of the colony’s working class.

The tapeworm-laden ants didn’t just outlive their siblings, the team found. They were coddled while they did it. They spent their days lounging in their nest, performing none of the tasks expected of workers. They were groomed, fed, and carried by their siblings, often receiving more attention than even the queen—unheard of in a typical ant society—and gave absolutely nothing in return.

The deal the ants have cut with their parasites seems, at first pass, pretty cushy. Foitzik told me that her team couldn’t find any overt downsides to life as an infected ant, a finding that appears to shatter the standard paradigm of parasitism. Even the colonies as a whole remained largely intact. Workers continued to work; queens continued to lay eggs. The threads that held each Temnothorax society together seemed unmussed.

Only when the researchers took a closer look did that tapestry begin to unravel. The uninfected workers in parasitized colonies, they realized, were laboring harder. Strained by the additional burden of their wormed-up nestmates, they seemed to be shunting care away from their queen. They were dying sooner than they might have if the colonies had remained parasite-free. At the community level, the ants were exhibiting signs of stress, and the parasite’s true tax was, at last, starting to show. “The cost is in the division of labor,” Das said. The worms were tapping into not just “individual [ant] physiology, but also social interactions,” Farrah Bashey-Visser, a parasitologist at Indiana University who wasn’t involved in the study, told me.

"Scientists think of social insects not as single bugs, but as interlaced parts of a giant “superorganism,” Manuela Ramalho, an ant biologist at Cornell University, who wasn’t involved in the study, told me. When one individual acts, others around it react; in a colony, no ant can truly act alone. Parasites of these communities automatically extend their reach to multiple animals at once, a rippling mind-control effect that spreads and amplifies the consequences of infection. Although the tapeworms had infected only a fraction of the Temnothorax workers, they were puppeteering the entire society.

That altered existence might play directly into the parasite’s hands. Tapeworms of these species can’t mature into adults and produce eggs until their ant host is consumed by a bird—a fate that insects in full possession of their faculties try to avoid. But ants who spend all their time lazing around the house make for easy prey; hosts who are pampered and long-lived have a high chance of surviving until they’re eaten. The worm’s most ingenious move might play out in some ants’ final moments, as they trade their natural fear of intruders for a dollop of ennui. When Foitzik and her students crack open infected Temnothorax colonies, the parasitized workers do little more than stare expectantly skyward. “Everyone else is just taking the larvae and running,” Foitzik said. “The infected workers are just like, Oh, what’s going on?”

Down to the molecular level, the parasite is pulling the strings. Sara Beros, Foitzik’s former doctoral student and the paper’s first author, told me she has split open Temnothorax abdomens and counted up to 70 tapeworms inside. From there, the worms can unleash a slurry of proteins and chemicals that futz with the ant’s core physiology, likely impacting their host’s hormones, immune system, and genes. What they achieve appears to be a rough pantomime of how ant queens attain their mind-boggling life span, a feat humans still don’t understand. (The tapeworms’ grasp of ant aging is far more advanced than ours.) The parasites are effectively flash-freezing their host into a preserved state—one that will up their own chances of survival, and help guarantee that their species lives on.

The worms’ MO is subtle and ingenious. They are agents not of disaster, but of an insidious social sickness that sets reality only slightly, barely perceptibly, askew. Infected workers get a taste of invincibility and status, swaddling themselves in youth and the benefits it brings. They also form resource sinks that sap the energy of those around them. They become echoes of the microorganisms they harbor. They are, in the end, parasites themselves.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

#ants #tapeworms #parasite #parasitology #reference

[isthatmanahimbo]

Today we bring to you another standout fan-favorite, Rengoku Kyoujurou!

Please be aware that this article will contain spoilers for the Mugen Train movie (aka the first half of the second season).

Rengoku is a secondary character in the smash-hit animanga series Demon Slayer, first published in Shounen Jump. He starred in the Mugen Train movie, released in Japan in 2020, which ended up being the highest grossing movie of the year worldwide and the highest grossing anime movie of all time – the same footage was then reworked and rereleased as the first half of the second season in 2021. Like most of the hashira in the series, Rengoku plays a role of mentor cum elder sibling to the main trio of Tanjiro, Zenitsu and Inosuke, and his role in the third act of the movie appropriately raises the stakes of the series from typical jaunty shounen romp into gritty horror-drama.

As with all other Demon Slayers, Rengoku's profession is in his body. Though we never see him out of uniform, we can assume that he is of a similar body type to many of the other characters with a similar silhouette. Standing at around 5'9, he does not cut an imposing figure necessarily, although we are told – both in dialogue and through his own actions – that he is a master of his craft. In databooks, when his peers (considered the strongest of their profession) hold friendly competitions, Rengoku often ranks somewhere in the middle of the pack when it comes to physical contests. Additionally, he is described as having "above-average durability", and this is clearly shown during his battle with the demon Akaza, during which Rengoku continues to battle with the utmost of his ability despite breaking most of his ribs, losing an eye, his skull beginning to cave in, and eventually with his opponent's arm shoved through his chest. He even toughs it out for several minutes after the arm is removed to confer his last rites. Buff, not particularly, but tough? Nigh unmatched.

If there were to be any qualities in which Rengoku is absolutely unmatched, it is his disposition. This guy's really got it all: he is charming and friendly, he is encouraging and gregarious, and he is unfailingly kind. We see a decent amount of his internal monologue during his time on screen, and he rarely has a negative thing to say about anyone – including his opponents. Even when Akaza strikes at a fallen Tanjiro, spurring Rengoku to insert himself between the two, he continues to speak respectfully as he lets Akaza know under no uncertain terms that their ideals are too opposite and that they could never be friends. Another instance of Rengoku's unfailing kind heart is when he reports to his father, belligerent after having fallen to drink, that he has succeeded the Flame Hashira title. His father responds with aggression and disdain, and when Rengoku's younger brother asks how the meeting went, Rengoku tells him frankly – but rather than dwelling on his father's negative feelings, Rengoku reassures his brother that he loves him, and then spends the rest of the afternoon training him.

His kindness rubs off on other people, even taciturn fellow-hashira Giyu (who most of his peers do not like). He charms everyone around him with his effusiveness, his infectious goodwill, and his competence. In databooks and a filler episode, we are told explicitly that all of his peers hold him in extremely high regard, and this attitude reflects on screen. Although Inosuke chafes at the idea of being told what to do, he reflects fondly on an exchange wherein Rengoku appears in a flash just long enough to give him orders before disappearing, with a dreamy tone of voice and a sparkling filter over the memory. Though Rengoku probably had little time for fucking, it is clear that he is a Chad in the extreme.

But as much as it pains this author to say, Rengoku could never master that ancient art of Himbo Breathing Style, as his brain moves too quickly, he is too sharp. In databooks, he is described as one of the smartest hashira of similar calibre to the resident chemist, and we see his intellectual prowess come to life as he strategizes and investigates what is occurring on the Mugen Train. He is able to assess a situation quickly and thoroughly at a bare glance, and is able to react appropriately - after being unconscious and in a dream state for the first part of the movie, upon waking he takes in the situation immediately and within thirty seconds he has issued orders and gotten things under control.

Just like everyone else in the fandom, Rengoku does set this author's heart ablaze, but there's no himbo to be found here.

Total Himbo Score: 18

#is that man a himbo? #false friends! rating: not a himbo #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny #rengoku kyoujurou #kny rengoku