#and toni likes the idea of the aura of protection so. she goes with that

[jewishsuperfam]

and what if i wrote a fic where the unsinkable 8 play d&d on the island

like. they don't have any source books but rachel remembers enough from nora's books, and dot has played enough video games that she can help suggest class abilities and stuff, so between the two of them they can basically homebrew classes for everyone

leah probably played once or twice with ian and i doubt she remembers much but i'd also bet she's ITCHING to write, and this is the first writing-adjacent creative outlet she's had on the island (taking notes on her observations of everyone not included), so she helps with the worldbuilding and coming up with an adventure and winds up getting way more into it than she expected, until they hit a point where she actually volunteers to DM (which no one was expecting; dot was definitely convinced it was gonna have to be her and was kind of dreading it)

(also, once leah winds up kind of taking over and spearheading the creative aspect, which dot and rachel are pretty happy to let her do, dot and rachel wind up deciding to make dice or dice-equivalents out of like. carved bits of wood, probably. or maybe they invent a new system using cards or smt)

shelby is cautiously optimistic; she doesn't really know anything about the game and has probably had some of the more satanic panic opinions on d&d crammed into her head, but from how the other girls describe it it sounds like fun to her. toni's more skeptical, but shelby and martha are both pretty enthusiastic, so she winds up agreeing just for them

fatin's not remotely interested in the game to begin with, and only agrees bc leah's been putting so much time + energy + heart into this and she wants to be supportive (and also bc she doesn't want to be the only one who refuses to play), but she winds up getting really into it, in a way that genuinely surprises her

#anyway: leah is dm like i said already #dot already knows off the bat that she wants to play a cleric #rachel decides to play a rogue just for the skill proficiencies and bc insane amounts of damage #martha's 1000% a druid no question abt it #i think toni probably plays a paladin tbh? #at first she just wants to play a character that doesn't have too much going on mechanically--just a good simple beginner character #but rachel makes the mistake of suggesting that barbarian might be a good class for that #and toni's feelings get hurt and they have a fight and later rachel is like #'u know....there are other characters that also like to hit things with swords but don't have a rage mechanic......' #and toni likes the idea of the aura of protection so. she goes with that #shelby wants to play a character pretty far removed from religion and also cast spells and help her friends #but she doesn't want to play a damage-focused character or do too much direct healing #so she winds up playing a bard #fatin tho. fatin's tricky #she doesn't really know much about the game so she asks leah to pick for her #and leah won't do that but she DOES give fatin a rundown of the options and what she thinks fatin would have fun with #after the explanations i think she thinks about playing a charisma caster like a sorcerer or warlock #but finds that she's not really into the idea of not knowing where her powers come from or how to control them #similarly she thinks abt being a barbarian and having an opportunity to vent some bottled up anger #but honestly she's not like. really seeing the appeal of any of the martial classes #shes like 'if i have to play this dumb game i want to have magic or what's even the point' #so to her absolute horror and self-disgust i think she winds up playing a wizard and LOVING it #anyway this got long but. i cant stop thinking abt it sooooo #the wilds

[elrondsscribe]

No ATLA shipping wars, please. There is room for ALL the ships.

So I’m sure anyone who’s been tracking me lately knows that I’ve been all up in Avatar: The Last Airbender ...

And I must say, after checking out the tags, I am TERRIFIED to speak my mind about ANY of the ships I like!! Like, I don’t want to be thought of as a poisonous Supporter Of That Which Is Toxic And Problematic because I did or didn’t gel with one ship or other. Spoilers under the cut.

See, I’m always the kind of fan that nobody likes: I’m the MCU fan that appreciates Steve and Tony; I’m the Star Wars fan that loved all nine Episodes. So when I say that I sail literally all of the ships because all of them hit me in different kinds of feels, well, y’all know to expect this from me.

(I should say at this point that the only thing I’m considering ‘canon’ for the purposes of this conversation is A:TLA; no LoK or comics is relevant here.)

(Also, can I just say what a wonderful change of pace it is to be in a property where, at least in the generation of our ‘mains,’ there seem to be more named, developed female characters??)

So I’m gonna start out with saying: I like the canon pairings as they stand! Kataang, Sukki, and Maiko being the main ones, obvs. However, I also like all kinds of AU pairings too!

Like Zutara - I mean, I can hardly say anything here that ten thousand others haven’t already said better, but their journeys do parallel each other in a lot of significant ways, and I think that, by the end of the show, they do legitimately share enough to have the foundations of a good relationship, if as a fanwriter you wanted to go there. You could make much of the poetry of their differences (”you rise with the moon, and I with the Sun”), and/or really develop their existing ability to safely be the ‘splash zone’ for each other’s turmoil. Besides, I think Katara’s mothering fussbudget energy would be a great thing for Zuko, and there’s a gentleness to her that he’d find healing.

{Now, I’ve seen a lot of comparisons between Zutara and Reylo, made by people who either want to demean or defend both ships. I’ve also seen these comparisons soundly trashed by people who like one, but not both, of these ships. As someone who never has had strong feelings either for or against Reylo, and as someone who loves Zutara but not exclusively, my response to all of that drama is a big old shrug of my shoulders. So don’t come at me screaming about Reylo, either to stan or cancel. Please just don’t.}

Also I don’t know a good way to say this, but you know how some people just can’t seem to resist reading Zuko and/or Sokka as gay? Well, I can’t stop reading Mai as lesbian; I don’t know why.

I don’t know which pairing Taang is. If it’s Aang/Ty Lee, omg yes!! Kill me with all the sparkles and rainbows! I already want to eat them both up. More seriously, I think Aang’s peaceable temperament would be a really welcome change in her life, after Zuko’s turmoil and Mai’s ice and Azula’s, well, Azula-ness. She’d probably just love Aang’s aura :) 

If Taang is Aang/Toph, well, we’ve observed that our flighty lil’ Aangster could use a grouding influence :) I don’t know who on Tumblr pointed it out, but Toph is the last person in the world to fangirl over Aang, which seems to be very good for him, while also not clipping his wings. While I do believe they’d be the kind of couple to quarrel and, at times, drift apart from each other (she’s incredibly rooted while he’s the embodiment of a free-spirit), for some reason I can easily see them finding each other again. There’s a scene in my head, one where an adult Aang is faced with the necessity of a sacrifice play that he might not come back from, and instead of tearfully trying to convince him not to do it, Toph says, “Go get ‘em, Twinkletoes.”

[And if you ship Zutara alongside Aang/Toph, you could have a fanfic where you did a Parallel, with Two Ships Of Opposite-Power-Benders. I’d be a fan!]

Now I’ve seen Sokkla floating around too, and I must say that this intrigues me, especially the way that this ship is connected to ideas about the redemption of Azula. I’ve seen some people being really upset that Azula never got a redemption arc in the show, but c’mon guys. A redemption arc for Azula would have taken a long-ass time - it would’ve been awesome, but it would’ve taken a long-ass time, definitely longer than a fourth season, I think. But if you were going to go with a combination of a redemption arc and a ship for her, Sokka would be a great idea. I don’t think Azula knows what fun and merriment are, and who knows those things better than Sokka?

[Honestly, that’s the thing about shipping Sokka with anyone: he would bring them laughter.]

But enough about the het AU ships, let’s talk about the gay ones!

Zukka would be the most prominent example, of course. The rapport that Zuko develops with Sokka over ‘The Boiling Rock’ is beautiful to behold (jokes about ‘that’s rough, buddy’ aside), and heaven knows Zuko needs someone to teach him how to laugh.

And remember how I said that I somehow can’t see Mai as straight? Well, I also can’t stop shipping her with Azula (don’t know the ship name for this one, but I know it exists). Obviously this ship would have more than an edge of ownership and manipulation about it, but they’re so deadly radiant and it’s like I can’t look away from them.

And Ty Lee is just so adorable and sincere (even with all the buried sadness) that shipping her with almost any of the other girls just makes my heart melt. Especially Katara, who would just cuddle the hell out of her whenever she’s feeling down. Or even Azula, who would totally own and work her but also, like, dazzle her. Main exception being Suki - for some reason, my head goes all kinds of hot, dirty places when I imagine Suki and Ty Lee sparring.

However, all this being said, I still have love for the canon ships that we got.

For example, like I said, I do ship Kataang, and I think together they’re incredibly sweet, but I also think that Katara’s tendency to hover and Aang’s tendency to (literally and metaphorically) fly away from/float above problems would jointly become a not-inconsiderable hurdle in a long-term relationship. Now I’ve observed couples in real life with similar dynamics, and I’ll stick out my neck and say that I consider this a workable hurdle, especially if both Katara and Aang grow in maturity and interpersonal understanding as they get older.

Similarly with Maiko: we see that, where Zuko’s emotions tend to run fire-hot, Mai’s tend to run ice-cold; we saw a clear example of these tendencies really clashing with each other. And Mai’s way of showing Zuko affection does seem to have genuinely perplexed some people who watched the show, to the point that they didn’t read it as affection at all. But again, drawing on what I’be observed, some couples really do develop a ‘love code’ that they understand even if literally no one else does. I don’t see any indication of either Mai or Zuko actually ill-using the other; and I will always stan this line from Mai when she made her big choice: I love Zuko more than I fear you.

As for Sukki - well, you already know. Sokka definitely grew and healed a lot from it, but I don’t think the trauma of being unable to protect Yue is one that will ever truly leave him. And as much as Suki understands him, I do think Sokka’s protectiveness will sometimes grate on her. She’s a motherfucking warrior-chieftain. And yes, this can definitely shape into a relational problem, but not one that can’t be worked around.

So ... TLDR, I love all the ships, and refuse to be part of the anti drama.

#avatar: the last airbender #a:tla #ships #shipping drama #i love too many ships #zutara #kataang #sukki #mailee #sokkla #maiko #taang #Shippy Content

[hairylime]

Toy Story 4

The Pitch: Tom Hanks’ Woody and Tim Allen’s Buzz Lightyear are living in a post-Andy era with Bonnie (Madeleine McGraw), the sweet little girl that adopted them in the last movie. But as the years have passed, Bonnie has proven to be a different kind of kid than Andy. Buzz, Jessie (Joan Cusack), Mr. Potato Head (the late Don Rickles), Rex (Wallace Shawn), Slinky (Blake Clark), and most of the old favorites are still in rotation. Yet Woody seems to be stuck in the closet far more often than not. Horse opera’s retrograde these days, after all.

The Toy Story movies to date have served as exemplars of family storytelling, blending humor, heartbreak, sticky situations, and themes of growing pains. Toy Story 4 is no different, but it’s even busier than previous installments. In this adventure, Woody accidentally aids Bonnie in the creation of a new favorite toy named Forky (Tony Hale, with full Buster Bluth neuroses), becoming a de facto dad in the process. Meanwhile, Bonnie’s family gears up for a road trip, and the toys pass through a small town with a traveling carnival and an antique shop.

It’s at the shop that Woody runs into his old flame Bo (Annie Potts), a now-emancipated toy free to roam without a child. Woody also must negotiate with Gabby Gabby (Christina Hendricks), a ‘50s doll with an aura of longing and mannered malice about her. Plus there are new characters like a pair of plush toys with the voices of Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele, Keanu Reeves having the time of his life as Canadian stuntman toy Duke Caboom, cameos from Mel Brooks and Carol Burnett … my goodness. And the jokes, the sight gags, the little zingers? It’s all pretty terrific.

Pixar Power: To be blunt: Toy Story 4 is critic-proof. The Disney monopolization of content is in full swing, and Toy Story 4 is a guaranteed smash IP with a massive built-in audience. Proven fans of the 25-year old franchise (some now bringing their own children, funnily enough) will see this baby and be satisfied no matter what the toys do. But thanks to Pixar writers Josh Cooley (Inside Out) and Andrew Stanton (Finding Nemo, Wall-E) working their magic, Toy Story 4 still manages to find joy in newness. New ideas, new sights, new humor, and new dramatics. And true to the series’ ethos, this is filmmaking as play, confidently balancing its game of cartoony chess.

Old characters manage to affect the things audiences have always liked about them, all while finding new wants and fears, such as Woody’s anxieties over his feelings of uselessness. Duke Caboom, while silly by design with his accompanying “Oh, Canada” music, still manages to sneak in a sense of lament as he tragically recalls his owner’s disappointment in Duke not being as exciting as the commercials. There’s also the joy of going to the fair without getting gunk on your feet. The fears of parenting, empty-nesting, growing up. And, of course, the feeling of having fun with your toys, so much so that you don’t want the time to end. The film moves in all of these meaningful directions by its end, nuanced and as heart-wrenching as ever.

Talking tough, and we’re trying our best in a mostly glowing review, but there’s really not much to protest here. Perhaps the running gag about Buzz Lightyear’s “inner voice” dumbing his astro-dude down? Didn’t he become grounded and not give in to flights of fancy after the first movie? Or what about the lack of screen time for some of the continually growing cast of characters? Or when the movie’s resolution dropped to 240p out of nowhere? (Just kidding on that last one; this is Pixar, and it’s every bit as lavish as that name promises.) All things considered, most complaints would be simple pettifogging for what’s otherwise a parade of great ideas and good vibrations.

Home From the County Fair, by Norman Rockwell: Go to YouTube for just a second, and look up clips from the first three films. It’s wild seeing what quantum leaps the animation has taken between each entry. That’s not to say the old ones look bad — the innovations of the original endure — but looking at Toy Story next to Toy Story 4 is like comparing Sock Puppet Theater to Norman Rockwell.

The antique shop is designed like a mix of The Shining and the ballroom in Beauty and the Beast. One minute there’s the creeping dread of an old shop’s cobwebs, electrical outlets and narrow shelves. The next, those spaces are offset with dazzling chandelier displays and stained-glass color schemes at a dusty micro-level.

You can see the rubber bumps on an old Godzilla, and appreciate the quality control in rendering. Buzz and Woody’s heads have never looked so plasticine … at least until the next movie. And the store and its surrounding carnival play within small town Americana, a kind of nostalgia that fits Toy Story 4’s themes of obsolesce and change.

Simply put, it’s quite the looker. Greetings from the Grand Basin, when you get there.

Parent Trap: One of the movie’s most ambitious new themes is parenting. Woody’s little stunt with Forky is an act of trying to help a child that goes far less smoothly than he’d hoped. It’s Bonnie’s first day of kindergarten, she’s about to lose it, and Woody gives Bonnie supplies from the trash to create Forky. The reasons are well-intended, but like rearing a child, the creation doesn’t go precisely as imagined.

Forky keeps retreating to the trash. He doesn’t understand concepts like, um, existence. He’s like a two-year old, constantly opening cabinets and perpetually in danger of hurting himself. Woody must protect him at all costs, for Bonnie’s sake. At one point, Woody suggests wearily that he didn’t think it would be so hard, and the sentiment is universal. It’s Toy Story 4’s best new idea, an age-appropriate one played up for gags and aches alike.

The Verdict: While the novelty will never be the same as it was the first time 24 years ago, curiosity and invention continue to be displayed in full force in the Toy Story movies. How’s this for praise: I left smiling. And that really counts, sometimes. In short, you get it. Seriously. You know the formula and frankly, it’s one of the best-working ones Hollywood still has: a fun-for-the-whole-family film. In a current market crowded with franchises and pricey theatrics, Toy Story 4 feels like a warm and welcome aside, spinning an epic yarn from an intimate vantage with all the amenities of Pixar’s supremely talented creators and animators. They’re still taking care of their toys with everything they have.

Where’s It Playing? To infinity and beyond, starting June 21st. If any of the last few Disney tentpoles are any indicator, this will be on over 4,000 screens. Like, Dumbo opened on 4,200 screens. This will be everywhere.

[winteriron-trash]

Bulldogs And Kittens [WinterIron Fic]

Originally posted on AO3 here (and yes, that’s my AO3 account so don’t even say I stole it or some shit, I just did some grammar touch ups from there to here) Length: 4,211 words Rating: Teen Warnings: Mention of rape/abuse, language

Bucky leaned against the brick wall, smoking, with his foot propped up. The music from the bar leaked into the night’s air, letting Bucky still hum to the beat, despite ducking outside for a cigarette and some solitude. Bucky flicked his gaze over when the back door swung up and the music got louder for a brief moment, before a guy stumbled out, slamming the door shut behind him.

And Jesus, the guy was a kid, college, probably. Wearing a loose tee shirt, jeans, and a pair of glasses in front of big brown eyes that complimented his twinkish face and wild brown hair, he had an adorable sort of look to him. He was the type to get eaten alive in a bar like this. Bucky quirked an eyebrow, not holding back a smirk.

“You look a bit out of place, doll.” Bucky drawled, catching the guy’s attention.

He spun around, staring at Bucky with wide eyes. “Yeah, I-I ah, I’m not used to being in places like… this. But I’m-” He tried to stutter out, but the door swung open again, and a second guy came out.

The second guy was a bit older, maybe Bucky’s age, but an absolute sleazeball. He reeked of alcohol and had a greasy, gross aura to him. He glanced around before zeroing in on the first guy. Bucky’s eyes narrowed.

“What are you doing here, Tony?” The guy taunted. “I thought you didn’t like these kinds of places.”

The first guy -Tony?- went a bit pale, but squared his shoulders. “Where I go and what I do is none of your business.” His voice was shaking, but Bucky admired the confidence. Reminded him of Steve, back before puberty hit.

The sleaze barked with laughter. “Sure” He glanced around. “I didn’t know you smoked.” He leered, clearly trying to corner Tony. Anyone who came out here came to smoke, though Bucky had a feeling Tony didn’t come out to light up.

Tony’s eyes went wide. “I ah, I don’t. But…” He glanced over to Bucky, then back to the other guy. “My boyfriend does, and I’m here to visit him!” Tony flashed a smile, but Bucky could see his shaking hands.

“Boyfriend?” The guy repeated, eyes narrowed with slight disgust. His gaze flicked over to Bucky as if the question were directed at him.

Bucky wasn’t stupid, and he knew the ‘trying to escape the ex-boyfriend’ spiel. Normally he wasn’t the type to get involved or play pretend to help a stranger. But the only thing that was more clear than the guy being Tony’s ex was how utterly terrified Tony was, and damnit, Bucky wasn’t an asshole. He could protect one little twink.

“Yeah, that a problem?” Bucky let his voice drop an octave, tilting his head back.

The sleaze seemed a bit taken aback, but didn’t back down. “Hope you’re enjoying my sloppy seconds.” He sneered, with a shitty little smirk.

Bucky stood upright, dropping his cigarette and stubbing it out with his heel. “What did you just call my boyfriend?” Bucky outright snarled, taking a step forward.

Now, Bucky was damn well aware there was a reason people didn’t fuck with him. Over six foot, bodybuilder, punk clothes, and tattoos scared people. And if they didn’t, Bucky’s reputation for punching people out did. He wasn’t called ‘The Soldier’ for nothing.

But either the alcohol was getting to him or this guy was flat out stupid because he didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. “You’re right, my bad. Sloppy Thirds. I shared him with my friend Ivan once.”

“You have three seconds to apologize, or I rearrange your face,” Bucky said, clenching his fist.

The guy only glanced over at Tony -who flinched and hid behind Bucky-, then laughed. “I hope you and Tony haven’t had sex yet. He might disappoint you with his small-”

One punch, straight to the nose, and the guy dropped like a fucking stone, swearing and cupping his -now bloody- nose. Bucky grabbed his collar, hauling him back up. “If you ever,” Bucky hissed, right in his ear. “Try and talk to Tony or me ever again, you’ll wish a broken nose was all I gave you.” Bucky threw him to the ground.

The guy pushed himself to his feet, almost tripping over himself running away. Bucky watched him leave, eyes narrowed.

“Thank you,” Tony said, and Bucky turned around to look at him. “You-you didn’t have to punch him, you know.”

Bucky shrugged. “That depends. Has he ever hit you?” Tony didn’t answer. “Then yeah, I did.” Bucky held out his hand. “Name’s James Barnes. But everyone just calls me Bucky.” Bucky flashed a sweet smile.

Tony accepted the handshake. “Tony. Why Bucky?” He asked.

“It’s off my middle name, Buchanan.” Bucky shrugged. “James always felt too formal, and I hate Jimmy.”

“James Buchanan?” Tony put the names together. “Seriously? You got named after him? He was like, one of the lamest presidents. All he was known for was not being able to stop the Civil War, and definitely being gay.” Tony wrinkled his nose.

“Then I guess we have the latter in common.” Bucky shrugged, grinning. Tony blinked but didn't say anything. “You got a ride home, doll? I wanna make sure you make it safe.”

Tony shook his head, fear returning. “I can't, I can't go home. He- Justin, my ex- he’s been stalking me, he has his lackeys guarding my apartment. I thought-I thought the last he’d ever look for me was his favourite bar but…” Tony trailed off, covering his mouth. God, the poor kid looked close to tears, already shaking again. “God, I’m just fucking scared. His parents are rich, calling the police won’t do shit, I don't have any friends or family. I don't know what to do anymore. I’m gonna end up being the murder victim of a 60 Minutes special, oh fuck.” Tony let out a sob, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hey, doll, no.” Bucky soothed, touching Tony's shoulder. “You can crash at my apartment, okay? My roommate won't care, we have a couch you can sleep on. No strings attached, I promise.”

Tony composed himself with a shaky breath. “Look, I really appreciate your help, but you've already done too much and I can't ask you-”

“You aren't asking, I’m offering,” Bucky said. “Just trying to be a good guy and help you, doll.”

Tony looked Bucky up and down, then laughed outright, despite his tear-stained cheeks. “Good guy?”

“Hey, we come in all shapes and sizes.” Bucky scowled, but he was smiling.

Tony shook his head, smiling. “Alright. Thank you, so much.” He gave Bucky grateful eyes.

Bucky nodded. “Not a problem, doll. Come on, it’s walking distance.” He herded Tony out onto the dark streets, leading the way. “And fucking Christ kid, take my jacket. You’re gonna fucking freeze.” Bucky shrugged off his leather jacket, offering it to Tony.

“And you won't?” Tony scoffed, but he took the jacket, draping it over his shoulders. “And don't call me kid, I’m eighteen.”

“Trust me, I was bred to handle cold,” Bucky said. “And I’m twenty-six, so you're a kid.”

Tony huffed but didn't argue it further. The walk fell silent, Bucky leading Tony down the streets. They were almost there when Tony started freaking out.

“Oh god, oh god, no no no.” Tony whimpered.

“What?” Bucky said, looking down at him.

“The guy walking toward us, Ivan. Justin's friend. He-he and Justin… they once raped me. Oh fuck, he’s gonna kill me.” Tony's voice made it clear that he was legitimately terrified Ivan would kill him.

Bucky wrapped an arm around Tony's shoulders, pulling him close. “Not if I’m here. I’ve got you doll, don't worry.” Bucky promised. Tony only whimpered again, burying his face in Bucky's shoulder.

As soon as Ivan was close enough to identify, Bucky understood Tony's fear. The guy was big and rugged, with an ugly glare.

“Give me Tony,” Ivan said, his voice thick with some accent. He wasn't beating around the bush, either.

“Fuck. Off.” Bucky snarled, glaring back.

Ivan took the first swing, and Bucky had to push Tony out of the way, leaving him open to take the punch, right to his jaw.

“Not a good idea, pal,” Bucky growled.

The two got into a fist fight, punches flying right in the middle of the sidewalk. Bucky was clearly winning, Ivan was a good fighter, but he couldn't hold a candle to Bucky. At least, until he pulled out a fucking taser.

Bucky didn't know who the hell went around with a taser in their pocket. But he did know it hurt like hell, and he dropped to his knees, open and easy for Ivan to-

Bucky didn't see the new person coming until they clocked Ivan, knocking him out cold.

“Sorry, but he’s my friend,” Steve said to the unconscious body, then offered a hand to help Bucky up.

“I had him on the ropes,” Bucky grumbled, pulling himself to his feet.

“I know you did.” Steve smiled. “So why’d I take a guy out for you?”

“Because you're a martyr who can't back down from a fight.” Bucky deadpanned. “Look, I punched his friend, it’s a long story.” He looked around. “Tony?”

Tony came out of the shadows, biting his lip. “I’m really sorry, I didn't know he would-”

“It’s fine. I’ve taken worse beatings.” Bucky waved off. “This is my roommate and best friend, Steve. Stevie, this is Tony. He’s crashing with us for a bit, I’ll explain later.”

“Steve Rogers, please to meet you.” Steve flashed a bright smile, offering a handshake.

“You too,” Tony mumbled, shaking his hand.

Steve turned back to Bucky. “I’m meeting up with Tasha for date night. She set Clint up with some guy named Phil and wants to spy on them to see if it goes well. Take good care of the kid, he seems like he needs it.”

“You and Tasha have weird ideas of what ‘date night’ is.” Bucky shook his head. “Have fun, I will.”

“Leaving him here?” Steve pointed to Ivan as he got on his motorcycle, parked on the street.

“Yep,” Bucky said. Steve shrugged, then drove off. Bucky turned back to Tony. “Come on doll, let’s get inside.”

Bucky woke up in the morning with a groan. He almost stayed in bed because fuck the world, but he remembered he had a guest over, and reluctantly got up.

After a quick shower and pulling on a pair of jeans (but no shirt), Bucky headed to the kitchen to make breakfast.

“They carve you outta a rock or something?” A bleary voice from the living room asked. With such a tiny apartment, the living room and kitchen were connected, and Tony could see Bucky from his spot on the couch.

Bucky laughed, flipping eggs. “Something like that. You want some food, doll?”

Tony grunted, throwing off the fluffy blanket. All he wore were his boxers and one of Steve’s old white shirts. “That depends. Does coffee come with it?”

“If you want it to.” Bucky turned on the coffee maker. He was more of a smoothie guy personally, but he could make coffee if Tony wanted some.

Tony stumbled into the kitchen, accepting a plate of eggs and bacon before sitting down at the kitchen island. “Thank you, for all of this. You didn’t have to do this for me.” He said, before taking a sip of coffee.

Bucky shrugged, sitting down across from Tony. “Considering the people hell-bent on getting to you, it scares me to think about where you might’ve ended up last night if I hadn't. Don’t worry about it.”

“Guess that’s what I get for trying to break up with someone,” Tony mumbled, stabbing his eggs with a fork.

“Tony, that is not what should follow a breakup. You cry, eat bowls of ice cream, and get acquainted with giving yourself handjobs, not live in fear with a psycho abusive stalker. Not your fault, don’t make it.” Bucky said, voice firm. Tony only nodded, still not looking Bucky in the eye.

The door swung up, making Tony jump. Steve, Clint, and Natasha all came in, arguing about something.

“Look, if you drank half of a five-hour energy, you’d get five hours of half-assed energy,” Clint argued, using his hands for emphasis.

“But that doesn’t even make sense. Wouldn’t you just get full energy for half the time?” Steve was frowning, looking genuinely confused.

“You’d just get a moderate energy boost.” Tony cut in. “The name ‘Five-hour energy’ is only indicative of how long it takes your body to process the substance, and once it goes through your body, you lose the kick. It doesn’t matter if you only drink a drop, it still takes roughly five hours to pass through your system, though the time period varies from person to person, different body types and all. The amount you take is the factor which affects your energy, as that’s the amount of the substance you’re flooding your bodily chemicals with. Take half, get half energy. Take two, and you’re just insane and will crash hard.” He explained through a mouthful of bacon.

“Ha!” Clint pointed at Steve. “What he said, that was science-y enough to probably prove it!” He then paused, staring at Tony with narrowed eyes. “Wait, who are you?”

“His name is Tony, I took him under my wing,” Bucky answered before Tony could. “He’s got a psycho ex-boyfriend with strong lackeys up his ass. Tony, that’s Clint, and that’s Natasha. They’re friends of mine, mostly good people.”

Tony gave a weak smile and nod in their direction.

“That blows.” Clint made a face, stealing a piece of bacon from Bucky’s plate and taking a bite. “Psycho exes are the bane of the world’s existence.”

“That where you got that pretty bruise, Bucky?” Natasha asked, referencing Bucky’s bruised jaw from last night.

Bucky nodded. “The other guy looks worse.” He promised. The others nodded, no one doubting it.

“How long he staying?” Clint said, giving Tony an up-down.

“Til I get rid of his ex.” Bucky smacked Clint’s hand from trying to steal more bacon.

“I really do have to go, though.” Tony sighed. “Look, my books and stuff are at my apartment, and I need them to do my homework, and college stuff. I can’t just up and ignore my life.”

“You said Justin’s got lackeys at your place.” Bucky frowned.

“He does.” Tony nodded “But I have to get my stuff somehow.”

“We’ll get your stuff,” Clint spoke up, talking around a mouthful of bacon he had stolen from Tony’s plate this time.

Steve nodded. “Bucky can stay here with you, and the three of us will grab what you need. If Bucky likes you enough to let you spend the night and take you under his wing-”

“Then you’re good enough for us to trust.” Natasha finished, giving Tony a small smile. Despite how utterly terrifying she could be, Natasha had a nice side. Even if she’d shoot Bucky for saying it.

“You guys don’t have to-” Tony tried to protest.

“Guys’ got people posted outside your place, got a lackey that gave the Soldier a freaking busted jaw, and has you scared and running. Yeah, we do.” Clint didn’t let him finish.

“We don’t like bullies,” Steve said, folding his arms.

Tony looked them all over. “Uhuh.” He said, eyes a bit wide with disbelief. Bucky didn’t blame him, it was an ironic statement to come from such a ragtag, punkish group of people.

Steve grabbed a pen and paper. “Write your address and a list of what you need. We’ll grab it, and bring your stuff right back. You can stay with Buck and I ‘til we get this sorted out.”

Tony seemed done trying to argue and started writing with a resigned sigh.

“So how’d date night go?” Bucky was looking at Clint, but the question was really directed at all of them.

Clint’s face broke into a grin. “Great, it went great Phil’s great. We already set up a second date. He brought me flowers. Who does flowers anymore? That’s like, straight up old school gentleman right there.”

“Steve brought me flowers on our first date.” Natasha hummed, typing on her phone.

“Yeah, but Steve’s like, from the damned 1940s or some shit.” Clint rolled his eyes. “And my date would’ve gone perfect, if certain people didn’t spy.” Clint made a face at Natasha and Steve.

Steve held up his hands in defence. “Just following her lead.” Natasha just offered a smile, not saying anything.

“Here.” Tony gave Steve the paper back, now covered in writing, and tossed him a key from his pants pocket.

Steve took the paper. “Come on. We’ll pick up Sam on the way, for backup.” Clint and Natasha both nodded, and the trio disappeared again. Tony watched them leave, then turned back to Bucky.

“I feel like I accidentally initiated myself into a cult.” Tony frowned.

Bucky waved him off. “Steve takes anyone he likes under his wing, he’s not hard to impress. And if he’s on board, so’s Tasha, and Clint just goes with the flow. They’re good people.”

“And you?” Tony finished his coffee, staring at Bucky over the rim.

Bucky actually took a moment to consider the question. “I’m usually more hesitant to trust people.” He said, not elaborating, before putting together a small load of the breakfast dishes to wash.

“Then why’d you trust me so easily?” Tony asked, walking back over to the couch to cuddle into the blanket again.

“You don’t look like the type who’d really pose much of a threat to me, or anyone else, for that matter.” Bucky sidestepped the question.

“Because I’m a scrawny ass eighteen-year-old with glasses and a GPA of 99.8?” Tony said, arching an eyebrow.

“No, because I’m just good at reading people. And seriously? 99.8? I think I maintained a solid 70 average in high school, and never went to college.” Bucky continued to push for a change of conversation. He didn’t want to have to explain himself.

“Well, what do you do now?” Tony asked, letting the conversation move along.

Bucky paused in washing dishes. “You’re not allowed to fucking laugh.”

“Won’t laugh, not laughing.” Tony held up his hands.

“I’m doing an apprenticeship, under a culinary institute. I work as a server in a restaurant right now, but I want to be a chef.” Bucky said, his glare daring Tony to say something about it.

“That’s cool.” Tony smiled, and it actually seemed pretty genuine.

“What about you, doll?” Bucky turned back to the dishes.

“I don’t really know,” Tony admitted. “I’m getting a degree in mechanical engineering, but I guess I’d just be happy with being a mechanic.”

“Really? You don’t look the type to be hands-on with that stuff.” Bucky said, surprised.

Tony huffed. “And you don’t look like a chef, your damned point?” There was a genuine bite in his voice, and it was startling.

“Hey, I didn’t mean it that way, doll.” Bucky backtracked. “I just meant, you’re real pretty, and pretty isn’t the first word that comes to mind, thinking of a mechanic.”

Tony laughed. “Are you flirting with me?” Bucky only shrugged, giving him a grin as he dried his hands. “Isn’t that low, flirting with someone who still has ex problems?”

“I’ve done lower,” Bucky said, now drying the dishes and putting them away. “I’m not exactly clean cut, doll.”

“Fair enough.” Tony hummed. There was a pause. “What’s the red star mean?”

“Hm?” Bucky glanced over his shoulder.

“Your tattoo, the red star.” Tony elaborated. “I mean, the others are kinda self-explanatory, but I don’t get the star.”

Bucky finished drying the dishes, then tossed the towel aside, joining Tony in the living room. “It… stands for something I overcame, a bit ago. A memento, so I don’t ever forget where I came from.”

Tony nodded. “That’s admirable.” He didn’t push Bucky to elaborate, so he didn’t. Bucky sat next to Tony on the couch. Tony scooted over, leaning his head on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Doll, as much as I like flirtin’, I don’t wanna push this if you aren’t sure you want it. Like you said, ex problems and all.” Bucky said, running a hand through Tony’s hair.

“We broke up a month ago, and I fell out of love with him long before that. He’s just a pain in my ass now.” Tony promised, looking up at Bucky. “I’m allowed to flirt with other guys too.” Tony lifted his hand, letting his fingertips dance across Bucky’s chest.

“You sure about this, doll?” Bucky cradled Tony’s face with a gentle hand. With a past with an abusive boyfriend, Bucky was going to try his damned hardest to be a gentle giant.

“Positive,” Tony said, looking Bucky right in the eye, and so help him, god, those whiskey eyes could melt anyone’s heart.

Bucky smiled. “Can I kiss you, doll?” He asked. Tony blushed but nodded. Bucky brought their lips together for a sweet kiss, and fuck, it was perfect. Tony’s lips tasted of coffee and bacon and were perfectly soft.

“That’s fucking precious, right there. And Nat, you owe me ten.”

Bucky and Tony jumped, breaking apart. Bucky mentally kicked himself for not hearing his friends come it. Steve, Clint, Natasha, and now Sam all stood there, hands full of Tony’s stuff.

Natasha made a face, but pulled out a ten, shoving it into Clint’s hand.

“Did it all go well?” Bucky ignored Clint’s comment but didn’t let go of Tony.

“Yeah, we got the stuff, duked it out with some assholes, it was great.” Clint grinned. “Just like Budapest.”

“You and I remember Budapest very differently.” Natasha frowned. No one knew what ‘Budapest’ quite was, but they all did know that Clint and Natasha’s past was a strange thing not worth questioning.

“Gimme phone.” Tony made grabby hands, and Steve passed him a phone. Tony unlocked it and scrolled through notifications. “Oh dear.”

“What?” Buck frowned.

“Eleven missed calls from Pepper.” Tony read out loud. “No one wants one missed call from Pepper, let alone eleven. I’m dead.” He stared at his phone like it was a bomb.

“Who’s Pepper?” Bucky asked.

Tony glanced up. “Oh, she’s one of my two friends. And the scariest woman I know. Hang on.” He dialled and put the phone to his ear. “Hey Pepper, darling, the apple of my eye-” Everyone heard shouted on the other end as Tony held the phone away from his ear, scrunching up his face. “You can be happy that I’m not dead? Look, it’s a long story. I met this guy named Bucky, he saved me from Justin and is letting me stay at his place, oh and I kissed him, that was really nice. I promise I’ll keep in touch with you and Rhodey.” He paused, letting Pepper speak. “Yes, ma’am. Yes, I promise! He’s nice. Fine, fine!” Tony held out the phone to Bucky. “She wants to talk to you.”

Bucky accepted the phone, and before he could even get a word in, a stern female voice was berating him. “Tony is an absent-minded, eccentric sweetheart, and if you try to use that against him or hurt him, I will make you regret it. He’s already going through too much with Justin, so I swear to god if you lay a hand on him without his explicit consent, I will snap your dick off.” The line abruptly cut out, and Bucky was left staring at the phone.

“She seems nice.” Bucky handed Tony his phone back. “If she’s that fierce, how the hell did the ordeal with Justin go down, with her around?” He asked.

Tony looked away. “She didn’t exactly know the full story until it was too late.” He mumbled. Bucky nodded. There was an awkward pause.

“You guys wanna go and dick around in Central Park?” Sam asked, speaking for the first time since coming in the apartment. There were nods and noises of agreement.

“Come on Tony, put on some pants,” Bucky said, standing up to look for his shirt.

“I’m going? Why am I going?” Tony frowned, looking mildly alarmed.

“Because this is a cult and you’re one of us now.” Bucky winked at him, tugging on a shirt.

Tony sighed but went to get up. “You guys are really going overboard for some college kid you just met.”

“Trust me, man, you get used to it,” Sam said, nodding. Being the most recent addition to their friend group, he knew better than anyone of their eccentricities toward accepting new people. “If Binky Bonks protects you, we all do.”

“I hate you.” Bucky scowled at Sam. Sam only grinned.

Tony tugged on his pants, changed into an AC/DC shirt, and slipped on his glasses. “You know I’m going to stick out, right? Like a kitten surrounded by a bunch of bulldogs.” He mused, tugging on a jacket as they all headed out the door.

Bucky laughed, then kissed Tony’s forehead. “Well then, I guess you’re our little kitten.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #winteriron #starkbucks #tony stark #bucky barnes #bucky x tony #marvel #avengers #alternate universe #winteriron fanfic #ao3

[lomlwintersoldier]

The Sun and The Stars {2}

Previous parts: Part 1

Word Count: 3158

Warnings: some light nsfw content

You have to leave. That man knew you and if anyone knew you, then it was time to leave, but you were thrown off by what he’d called you. My star. What a strange thing to call someone.

You couldn’t recall a single thing about this man but the way he looked at you, with a certain tenderness in his clear blue eyes…it unnerved you. He knew you and something deep inside you told you that he cared for you, which was unthinkable. No one cared for you.

You quickly shove your clothes into your backpack, frantically trying to escape your small apartment. It was far enough away from the center of Bucharest that it had survived the alien attack, although a few things had fallen from the shelves after the initial blast. You swing the pack over your shoulder and left the room through the window, ever the cautious one, swallowing your fear as you did.

Time to disappear.

Bucky runs through the city, searching for any indication of Y/N. He’d shoved a quick explanation to Tony but it really wasn’t much and before Stark could even question him, he was gone on his search for her. The memories ran through his mind, spreading like wildfire as he sprinted through the empty streets: a kiss, a loving touch here and there, and finally, the heartbreaking night she’d disappeared. It all came rushing back to him at a nauseating speed but all he knew was that he had to find her, this girl he knew he’d loved.

After four hours of searching, he realizes she’s bolted and is probably halfway across Europe by now; she was always good at disappearing; he knew that from experience.

He’d stumbled upon an apartment building at the edge of the city with the help of Red Wing and  searched every room until he found hers. It was entirely bare but somehow he knew it was hers. Her scent, although faded, lingered in the blankets that were spread across the floor in a makeshift bed and the only thing left behind was a forgotten notebook, wedged between the blankets. Bucky snags it and starts to head back to the quinjet, although slowly. He needs some time to think before he faces the others and he figures it would probably be better to read the journal in the safety of the jet.

By the time he get’s back, the entire team are already in it and are flashing him glares of various glares of anger and annoyance at the fact that he’d made them wait so he heads to the back of the plane, taking one of the spare seats far away from everyone else and grabs the journal from one of the pockets in his pants. Bucky breathes a deep breath as he opens it, preparing himself for what he’s about to read.

She’s scrawled short notes in the stained pages, much more like military log book entries than a diary; he smiles, remembering how tough she was back at HYDRA. It’s obvious she still has the same fire.

Date: 3/22/12

Still no memories. Absolutely fucking nothing. It’s been a two months since I got out and I can’t think of anything that happened at HYDRA that wasn’t torture. Traveling to Italy now.

He winces at her words, knowing the feeling all too well before flipping to the next page, an entry made about a month later.

HYDRA agents searched for me last night. The Asset was there. Barely made it out of Paris unseen.

Bucky’s eyes narrow as he reads the entry. He remembers that night well; he’d been assigned to bring her back and when he failed to, he was punished accordingly and now he realized that even though the Winter Soldier had no recollection of her at that point, some unconscious feeling caused him to sabotage the mission to protect her, sending the men on a false lead to give her more time to escape.

He continues to read through the journal, flipping page after page of her thoughts, jotted down quickly in between cities and events. HYDRA had been relentless in trying to get her back and she’d been unable to stay anywhere longer than a few weeks. He reaches to a point about six months after the first entry when a noise pulls him out of his thoughts. It’s Steve sitting beside him. He’s quiet for a moment, just studying his friend before he speaks.

“What the hell was that back there?” He asks, drawing the answer out of Bucky. “Stark told you?” “Of course he did. Got pretty damn pissed about it too. Also you didn’t turn off your earpieces before you guys started yelling at each other.” Steve replies pointedly. “Scared half the team, thinking we had another civil war on our hands.” Bucky laughs humorlessly and looks down at the journal again, thinking of her.

“So tell me, what happened? Who is she?” Bucky sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before replying. “Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She was an experiment at HYDRA, the first successful one they ever had using an infinity stone, she can do anything and everything with her mind and I’m willing to bet she’s even more powerful than Wanda.”

Steve’s eyebrows flick up in surprise. Bucky knew what he was thinking; another enhanced, unstable individual with powers even stronger than Wanda’s….well let’s just say that he wasn’t happy about it. “What else?” Steve asks, demanding more. He wanted to know why she meant so much to Bucky but he wasn’t ready to tell Steve everything that happened between them. Bucky sighed heavily before answering. “They had me watch her, train her so I did and we…we got close. We were sent on a mission together one day and I kissed her. I never saw her again after that. They'd told me she died.” “How were you able to kiss her though? You were the Winter Soldier at that point right? You couldn’t feel anything.” Steve states pointedly. “But that’s the thing, whenever I was around her I could. It was like whatever they’d done to her gave me my will, my strength, my personality back. Not my memories though.” Bucky smiles to himself, remembering the first time he saw her. She’d glared at her handler with a defiance that caused her to set her jaw and stand straight, and he knew instantly that she was special, not just in her powers but in her entire personality; there was something about her that HYDRA could never take away from her and it was what ultimately gave her the strength to escape. “What happened?”

Bucky looked down at his hands, remembering the night she’d escaped. No one knew how she got out except for him; she was the strongest enhanced individual he’d ever seen. She could have escaped long before that night but she’d stayed for him, to be close to him. He pushes away the painful memory of the night she left just before it begins to tear a hole in him.

“She escaped.” He whispered. “They ordered me to look for her and kill her but I refused. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. That was when they realized how much they’d lost their control over me and they told me they'd killed her. Told me it was my fault for falling for her.”

“Wow.” Steve mutters in shock. “Do you have an idea of where she might go?” “I didn’t even know she was alive until about five hours ago.” Bucky sighs. “But as soon as we land I’m leaving again. I need to find her.”

“Do you want any of us to come with you?”

Bucky shakes his head, closing the journal and replacing it in the pocket of his pants. “I need to do this alone.”

Steve nods and claps his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving him a comforting smile.

“Good luck, pal.”

Bucky ended up being gone for nine months, searching seemingly the whole world for her without any leads. She was incredible at disappearing, he’ll give her that but as each day passed and more and more memories of the two of them surfaced in his mind, the more his heart hurt. The way he missed her was undeniable and the pain of losing her that night seemed to be renewed every day he woke up in a new city.

But still he searched, trying to find any place she would have gone but she seemed to always be three steps ahead. By the time he got to where he thought she was she was long gone.

“What the hell are you doing?” She giggled as Bucky pressed small kisses to her neck. His actions caused a small moan to escape her lips even though she was trying to push him away lightly. “What does it look like I’m doing?” He growled lowly against her skin. She didn’t reply, only curled her fingers in his long hair the way she knew he loved. They rarely had the time or the freedom to do this but when they were sent on missions together, like right now, they could do whatever they wanted. And because of her aura, he was able to do what he wanted. He wasn’t the Winter Soldier around her, just a man she loved.

Right now, her leg is hitched around his hip and her hand is resting against his chest, stroking gently. He can’t remember the last time he was touched by a gentle hand and the way her other hand is curled in his long mop of hair comforts him.

“We have to report back in the morning.” She whispers in his ear. “We need to look like we’ve gotten even a little bit of sleep.”

“Do we?” Bucky hummed against her skin before moving back up to her lips, pressing a heavy kiss to them.

“Yes! We must sleep, solnyshko moyo.” She murmurs but the lust in her eyes tells a different story. Bucky continues to move down until his lips are pressing light kisses to the valley in between her breasts.

“I don’t see why.” He whispers as he continues down to her stomach and then to her hips, although he doesn’t leave any marks; if anyone knew what they did on these missions they would most likely be put to death.

“I guess you’re right.” She moans as he kisses her over her panties. He lets out a breathy laugh, the first one in months and goes back up to her lips. “I love you.” He whispers to her. “Zvezda moya.” She smiles up at him as he hovers over her, his waist in between her thighs. “The same to you, solnyshko moyo.”

Bucky is pulled out of the memory when he realizes he’s been standing at a crosswalk longer than he should have. He blinks and heads down the street, pulling his hat down further over his face to cover himself. He didn’t need anyone to recognize him right now; that would be an inconvenience that would be difficult to explain to the team. The one thing he’d promised when he left was that he would stay under the radar and out of trouble but there had been a few close calls. He had to avoid publicity even more now. Bucky heads down a bare alley, walking lightly as he heads down the empty strip when suddenly he’s shoved against the wall, dragged into a side street by an inhuman force. A knife is pressed to his neck before he can even react.

“Why the hell are you following me?” She snarls as she presses the knife deeper into his neck, ready to slice at a moment’s notice. Bucky raises his hands the way he did when he first saw her, nine months ago. “Listen-” Bucky begins. “No, you listen.” She barks in the same harsh tone. “I’ve done a damn good job at disappearing so you need to back the fuck off and let me escape. I don’t know who you are, if you’re with HYDRA or if you somehow know about me and my powers and you want me for some sick personal gain but you’ve gotta stay the hell away from me.” “Y/N, look, there’s a lot you don’t remember, I know that, but look at me.” Bucky says softly but urgently. “Look at me.”

Her eyes don’t lose the cold, unforgiving stare but she doesn’t make a move to kill him which is an improvement.

“You have to remember me.” “I don’t.” She replies with hostility. “I have no idea who you are.” She releases him and makes a move to leave but he grabs her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. The gesture seems to surprise her, his familiarity catching her off guard. “Zvezda moya.” He whispers urgently. “It’s me.” The faintest hint of recognition flashes in her eyes but she doesn’t pull away from him. “Just let me explain. Please, come with me; I won’t hurt you. I just want to talk.”

She tugs her hand from his before glancing around her warily. “Don’t try anything funny. I think you understand what I could do to you.” She threatens lowly.

Bucky’s heart leaps at her acceptance, even though it’s grudgingly. “I have a hotel room, not too far from here.” “No. No hotel rooms.” She says. “Too many people.” “Where then?” “Come with me.” She turns on her heel without any explanation but Bucky follows. He finally has her.

They walk to a small abandoned factory about an hour out of town. The thin walls do nothing against the windy chill that blows through the building but she doesn’t seem to notice as she pushes through the dirt and filth that’s overtaken the place. She leads him to a tiny room, barely a broom closet where she has blankets set up, much like her other home and there’s a small lamp that casts a dim light over the tiny space.

“You live here?”

“Temporarily. Everything is temporary.” She says as she places herself on the blanket, but her eyes follow him, still not trusting him; he can’t blame her. She doesn’t remember him and the thought tugs at his heart painfully. When he sits across from her, she shifts back slightly, wanting to keep him at arm’s length for her own protection. It’s a moment before he speaks.

“Do you remember anything about HYDRA?” Bucky asks. Pain flashes in her eyes before being taken by a deadened, numb expression, an expression he knows all too well since he escaped HYDRAs grasp as well.

“I know what they did to me.” She winces at the thoughts that come rushing back, as does Bucky. He knows what they did to her as well. “All they caused me was pain. Nothing good came out of that place.”

The comment hurts him more than he thought it would. They really did a number on her memory if she doesn’t remember him at all.

“Do you remember anything about you and I?”

“I know you are the Asset, a dangerous killing machine. I heard of you through my handler.”

Bucky sighs although he didn’t really expect a different answer.

“Do you remember what we meant to each other?” He whispers, shifting slightly, preparing himself for the inevitable truth.

“No.” The word is cold and harsh and it cuts him like a knife but he can’t blame her. He knows they wiped her before she escaped. They both had no chance.

And so he began his story, telling her of the nights they spent together and the stolen kisses in the dark hallways of the facilities they’d stayed in. He tells her about the first time he saw her smile and that the happiness it caused him doubled because he knew the cause was him. He speaks about the sudden rush of feeling he experienced when she smiled at him that first time and how those feelings tripled when he finally kissed her. As he continues to speak, her face becomes less guarded and more intrigued but she still looks at him with a certain detachment which only signifies that she doesn’t remember any of this. When he finishes, she just stares at him but the hostility and anger she so confidently wore when she looked at him is no longer plastered across her face.

“All of that happened? With you and me?” She asks quietly, cocking her head slightly to the left.

“Yeah.”

She heaves a sigh, her eyes never leaving his. “I don’t remember you.” She whispers as she shifts so that she’s closer to him. “But I want to.”

She holds his gaze as those words melt him from the inside and a small smile, the first one he’s felt in months, makes it’s way to the surface.

“You were the only person who was kind to me, weren’t you?.” She whispers as she leans into him slightly, her closeness affecting him in ways he didn’t think possible. Just her being in this close proximity sends a wave of calm over him.

“I loved you.” He whispers, leaning closer so that their faces are just inches apart and he’s overwhelmed by the need to kiss her.

Clang.

Instantly, the guarded expression is back on her faces as she spreads her gloved hands, ready to defend herself at a moment’s notice. Bucky’s on the defensive as well, crouched protectively over her even though she doesn’t need protecting.

“I’ve stayed here too long.” She mutters as she grabs her things and shoves them into her backpack and clips the lamp to the outside of it.

“Wait.” Bucky grabs her hand but instantly she pulls it back. “Come with me. I can take you somewhere where you can be safe.”

Voices accompany the noises and her eyes dart back and forth between him and the direction of the noises. She still doesn’t know whether to trust him. “You wouldn’t have to run anymore.” Bucky promises as he gazes into her eyes. She seems uncertain but he takes her hand, forcing her to look at him. “I can help you now. I can take care of you.”

After a few moments she nods. He yanks then both of them up and together, they run through the warehouse as excited voices start to yell.

“Hey boys, there she is.” One of them yells. “Fucking get her. Alive.”

“Fuck off!” She yells back before sending a burst of energy at the rafter over where they’re standing. It doesn’t take much effort for the roof to collapse on top of the team of HYDRA agents but both Bucky and Y/N know they’re not dead. Bucky can still hear them swearing but the two of them manage to escape, running into the darkness of the night but at some point during their track, their hands instinctively find each others and that’s when Bucky feels the faintest flicker of hope. 

A dangerous feeling.

Next part: Part 3

Tags: 

@xxchexchickxx

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes gif #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #buckynat #Winter Soldier #anthony mackie #thor #chris hemsworth #The First Avenger #captain america winter soldier #winterwidow #winter soldier gif #captain america #caws #captain america civil war #Captain America The First Avenger #TEAM CAP #Iron Man #tony stark #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #Avengers #the avengers #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel smut #natasha romanoff #black widow

[trashfics]

Foxgloves ://: Chapter 2

Summary: Y/N was content living a normal life. Well, as normal as her life could be with the power to stun and cause death (in extreme conditions) with just a touch of her hand. Let’s just say gloves are a girl’s best friend, not diamonds. When the Winter Soldier surfaced, she was called in by Director Nick Fury to assist Captain America in fighting against a corrupt SHIELD. To the world, she is known as Foxgloves, the girl with poisons touch. To her team, she’s a mystery, coming out of nowhere, with her amazing combat skills and poisonous touch, to be recruited into their little group of super humans. Nobody knew of her origin, until Helmut Zemo’s plans consist of more than exposing the Winter Soldier as Howard and Martha Stark’s killer. Warnings: Mild cursing, CA: Civil War Spoilers, Mentions of Human Experimentation, A Little Bit of Fluff. A/N: Second chapter, woo! Feedback is always welcome! (F/I/C = Favourite ice cream) Word Count: 2,500k+ Last Chapter: [X] {I lean against him, giving some comfort, and pull his phone out. Unlocking it, I pull up the latest text that reads “She’s gone. In her sleep.”}

After consoling Steve about the passing of his first love, I go back to my room and take a nice, warm shower to calm my mind. All the ‘what if’s’ were flowing in and out at 100 mph, causing the bubbling of a headache. Sighing, I put on some calming music and allow my brain to whisk me away from reality.

Flashback.

I awake to the sound of someone entering my cell. I hear a man’s rough voice speaking in a foreign language, Russian maybe.  The feeling of a heavily calloused hand startles me, causing my body to jerk away. The man grunts something out, pulling me to my feet and leading me out of isolation. I hear the crying and screaming of various people, kids to adults, as I walk through a slim hallway. Glancing into the cell closest to me, I see a boy around my age with eyes and patches of skin like a snake. In another, I see a woman, maybe in her 30’s, with pitch black wing protruding from her back, caked in dry blood.

A shiver runs down my spine as we stop at a heavily guarded door. Nausea floods my body and my senses are in overdrive. The man who brought me here types in a code, causing the metal doors to open. He shoves me in, his grip on my arm bruising. Bringing me up to a medical bed, he stops and commands me to lay down. I follow his orders, not wanting to be beaten, and climb onto the stiff mattress. An IV is stuck into my arm and I fall unconscious.

Flashback Ends.

A single tear falls down my cheek. I breath in a ragged breath as I turn the water off. I absolutely hated re-living those memories. The ones that remind me about how I gained my ‘powers’. Wrapping a towel around myself, I walk into my room and change into the classic ‘I’m not a superhero’ outfit, which consists of a baseball cap, sunglasses, a random t-shirt, jeans, a jacket, sneakers, and a pair of faux leather gloves. Taking the lift down to the lobby, I inform F.R.I.D.A.Y that I was going out. “If anyone ask where I am, please tell them at the park a few blocks away.”

Walking out of the lavish building, I start on my trek to the small park that grants me peace of mind. I first stumbled upon when I first started living in the tower. Being knew to New York and all, I was lost and walking aimlessly around. I was looking for a café or some quiet place to eat, but I ended up at a small park. This park had a calming aura about it, with its little pretzel stand and playground, crawling with children and parents alike. I sit down on a bench and look up at the sky. The sun was starting to set so the clouds were full of pinks, oranges, and lavenders.

A soft smile graces my lips as I hear the familiar ringing of the ice cream cart that comes around during the afternoons, allowing children to get a treat before returning home. I get up and walk towards the old man wearing a light blue button up and white apron. Looking up, he smiles noticing my presence. “Y/N, it’s nice to see you again.” he says making his way over to hug me.

Charles was the lovely ice cream peddler who help me find my way back to the tower after getting lost. After I started to frequent the park, we started talking and getting to know each other. I learned that his wife had passed a few years ago, leaving him with their aging basset hound, Duke. Sometimes Duke accompanies his owner, enjoying the attention he gets from the small children. In all honesty, Charles is like the grandfather I never had. I love hearing his stories about his childhood, the ups and downs.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, was startin’ to think you forgot about lil’ old me.” I chuckle lightly, rubbing the back of my neck. “Sorry about that, work has been hectic lately.” He looks up at me, giving me a knowing smile. “I know, saw what had happened in Lagos on the news.”

Charles found out I was an Avenger shortly after I was injured after a mission and walked with a limp for a few weeks. He gave me advice on how to heal properly and took care of me, making sure I didn’t strain myself. He hands me a cone of F/I/C, turning to serve the next customer. After talking for a little, I leave with a promise to visit Duke and him soon and start on my way back to the tower.

Once I get back, I change into one of Sam’s shirt that I stole during laundry day and a pair of cotton shorts. Entering the living room, I find Sam and Steve sitting on one of the couches. “Hey boys, what’s got you two up so late?” I ask, propping myself up on the arm of the couch.

“We were just talking about what has happened in the past few days.” Steve said, sadness clear in his voice. “We were also talking about Peggy’s funeral, it’s the same day as the signing of the Accord.” Sam informs me, causing Steve to sigh. “Please don’t bring the Accords up, I just don’t like the idea of being monitored and told what we can and can’t do.”

I nod in agreement, getting up to get water from the kitchen. “Hey, is that my shirt?” I hear Sam call after me, causing me to giggle as I grab one of the water bottles from the fridge. “It was your shirt, but now it’s mine.” I say as I walk back in, a smirk playing on my lips. “Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Stark requests your presence in the lab.” I groan, rolling my eyes and telling F.R.I.D.A.Y that I’ll be down in a few minutes. After what happened earlier I don’t know if I should be relived or worried that Tony wants to talk.

Walking towards the lift, I am stopped by a hand on my shoulder. Turning around, I am met with Steve looking down at me. “I know you didn’t know Peggy for that long, but would you be willing to accompany Sam and I to London? If you’re not going to Vienna of course.” I sigh, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll get back to you on that Stevie, okay?” I reach out to pat his arm, pausing once I realize my mistake. “Sorry.” I mumble turning around and darting towards the lift, going down to the lab.

The bell chimes, signaling I have reached my destiantion. Sighing, I run my hand down my face, re-living the events of what happened that last time I was down here. Let’s just say it ended with a small explosion of one of Tony’s creations, due to me kicking it around as I spoke to him about a new tactical glove design.  ‘It’s not my fault that it looked like a soccer ball…’ I think as I walk up to the glass doors, knocking lightly. Tony perks up and signals for the doors to open.

Walking in, I am greeted with the sight of various contraptions and experiment. It seemed a little lonely too, seeing as Bruce is still MIA. “Hey Stark, what’s up?” I say, leaning against one of the silver tables. He turns to me, a screwdriver in hand. “I wanted to talk about what happened earlier.” I raise an eyebrow, gesturing for him to go on. ‘This is rare, he usually never apologizes.’

“Y/N, let me just start off by saying, you know I wouldn’t have went to such extreme measures if I didn’t think we needed to be put back in our place. The body count is way too high, the blood we’ve shed is limitless. Hell, we’ve destroyed a whole country!” he pauses, noticing his harsh tone and taking in a shallow breath before beginning again. “The Avengers are supposed to protect the world, not kill it. New York, Sokovia, anywhere we’ve had a major fight, was left with devastation and destruction and I don’t know if I can keep going on with that anymore.” His brown eyes look distraught, the dark circles underneath a deep purple.

When Tony is stressed out, he locks himself in the lab for days at a time. He does anything he can to take his mind off whatever is troubling him using methods varying from liquor to sleep deprivation. Honestly, it hurts me to see him like this. Sure, he can be quite the jerk, but he does what he thinks will be best for everyone, even if it comes with consequences. 

Finding a pair of gloves lying on the table, I put them on and pull him into a hug. I can see where he’s coming from, hell, I was there when Sokovia went down. I saw all the people lying dead and injured in the streets, they’re faces still haunt me to this day. “Tony, when was the last time you got more than 30 minutes of sleep?” I murmur into his ear.

He chuckles, pulling away and asks “Would you be mad if I said I don’t remember?” Smiling softly, I walk over to one of the cabinets and pull out a pillow and blanket. Sitting on top of one of the empty table, I pat the space next to me, signaling for him to lay down. He shakes his head, as he lounges on his side, placing his head on my lap. I lay the blanket on him and run my fingers through his hair, causing him to relax.

“I’m not going to the signing in Vienna,” I start, sighing and glancing down at him, seeing him mumble that he knows. “I’ll be in London with Steve and Sam; Peggy’s funeral is the same day.” I pause, noticing his eyes start to droop. “You know I’m always a phone call away and always up to talk. Let me know how it goes, okay? And if there’s anything you need me to pick up, an ‘I love London’ shirt maybe.” I smile as he begins nodding off. He pulls the blanket tighter around him and I get up, maneuvering his head onto the pillow. Before I leave, I place a chaste kiss on his forehead. Somehow, I always end up looking after Starks.

A few days later, it’s absolute chaos. Apparently, a bomb went off during the signing in Vienna, injuring and killing many. After getting a call from Natasha, I bombarded her with questions about her well-being first and then she briefs me on what went down, Sam and I race to the hotel that Sharon, Peggy’s niece was staying at. Once explaining what we know so far in the elevator, we head to Sharon’s room, watching the news feed.

“A bomb hidden in a news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna. More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka.” I grimace, watching the aftermath as Sharon tries to find out more about what happened. “Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier.” I sucked in a harsh breath at the mention of that name. Glancing over at Steve, his features are like stone. “The infamous HYDRA agent linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.” Sharon, who’s finally off the phone, walks up next to Steve. “I have to go to work.”

We make our way to Bucharest, with the help of a certain blonde agent. This is where James has most likely been hiding out, somewhere lowkey, a country that nobody would bother thinking of housing the infamous ex-sniper. Steve and I walk into his flat, dressed in our combat suits with Sam watching from the sky. It’s small, with a mattress lying on the floor and worn couch resting against the kitchen island. It feels homey, to say the least.

Steve finds a notebook on top of the fridge and starts snooping, while I look around. Sam comes in of the radio, “Heads up, guys. German Special Forces, approaching from the south.” Making my way back into the living area from the bathroom, I pause. Standing there in a black baseball cap and red Henley is no other than Bucky Barnes, trust me, those baby blue eyes are permanently etched into my memory. “Steve,” I start, my voice soft as James looks at me. A flash of recognition crosses his features, it fading away as quickly as it came. “We have company.”

Steve turns around, the floor boards under him creaking. Looking over his estranged best friend, he sighs. “Do you know me?” There’s a moment of silence before James replies. “You’re Steve.” His hair is longer, well kept, I note mentally. I like it. “I read about you in a museum.”

I walk towards the door, getting ready for an attack and Sam warns that the GSF are here. “And you,” I turn my head, looking towards the face of a haunted man, “’You’re Y/N,” my eyes widen, ‘Does he remember?’ I think, “I saw you in the newspaper.” I nod, kind of sad but relieved at the same time. Nobody needs to know how I know the Winter Soldier.

“I know you’re nervous, and you have plenty of reason to be.” Steve pauses, placing the notebook down. “But you’re lying.” Sensing the people coming up the stairs, I inch closer towards the door leading to the stairwell.

“I wasn’t in Vienna. I don’t do that anymore.” Sounds his gravelly voice, the voice that I’ve come to miss. Him and Steve talk some more, Steve warning him of the upcoming fight. Sam chimes in briefly, “They’re entering the building.” I get ready, tucking myself into the little corridor that leads to the bathroom. “They’re on the roof, I’m compromised.” ‘Well, fuck.’ I think, checking to make sure everything is loaded and in their proper places.

“It always ends in a fight.” Sighs James, pulling the glove off his left hand, the silver plates shining. “You pulled me from the river. Why?” Questions Steve, James looking up at him and saying “I don’t know.” “Three seconds.” Warns Sam as I get ready by the door. “Yes, you do.” “Steve, this really isn’t the time for an interrogation.” I mumble, causing James to look over at my crouching figure.

“Breach! Breach! Breach!” announces Sam as a smoke bomb is thrown inside. Steve reacts immediately, covering it with his shield. I hear shouting in German, as a bullet breaks through the wall, which James stops with the mattress, while the door is pounded on. A table is thrown as two of the windows are kicked in, James coming face to face with one of the soldiers. Steve pulls the carpet out from under the other one, causing him to shoot wildly at the ceiling. The door to the balcony is opened, Steve grabbing the soldier’s gun and turning it away, while James kicks him in the chest.

“Buck! Stop! You’re gonna kill someone.” I hear Steve shout as he’s knocked down. James breaks the flooring next to the blonde’s head, pulling out a military style backpack. “I’m not gonna kill anyone.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #winter solider x reader #winter soldier imagine #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #ca:cw #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #winter soldier x female reader

[senseofanotherending]

Entry 4

Part Two or ‘Is this a different novel’?

In Part Two we learn how the young Tony has been replaced by his sixty-year-old self, and about his career, his marriage, Susie, his divorce, and his recent volunteering in the hospital un order to be prepared when his own time comes. Nothing very exciting I’m afraid. Until he receives the letter from Mrs. Ford, Veronica’s mother.

The second part of the novel has indeed an aura of mystery and detective fiction about it. It all starts with the document and money that Tony is sent, from Veronica’s mother, whom he barely knew, and talking about a diary from Adrian that wasn’t actually attached in the document. From that moment on, Tony’s narration traces back each of the threads that turned into a web of lies and half-mistaken memories, that he didn’t even know he had knitted. Of course, as the book advances, my trust in Tony’s errant but seemingly honest narration, is not the same as before. However, since we still depend on him to know what happened to Adrian, we are still caught up in Tony’s narration, reliable or not; faulty or not; biased or not.  

I had to look up “Wobbly Bridge”, and I was not surprised to see what call they call London’s “Wobbly Bridge” is what I pictured was going to be it. It is certainly better than Millennium Bridge.

A piece of irrelevant, slightly off-topic information: perhaps it is worth mentioning that for the Millennials/Generation Y/Post 1990-iers, London’s Millennium Bridge is also known as ‘That Bridge from the 6th Harry Potter Film that is attacked by the baddies’. (See sequence under the cut)

Until Tony finally manages to meet Veronica, their email correspondence opens up Tony’s repressed nostalgia for Veronica and their relationship. And, the more the nostalgia for her grows, the more Tony entertains the idea that Veronica is attractive, or rather he remembers again how he used to find her cryptic personality and her flair for drama attractive. And the more the becomes equally fascinated and irritated by her, the more Margaret is left aside.

But like Part Once, Part Two presents the readers once again with Veronica is described to us in a slightly irritating way. The same that makes you want to roll your eyes at someone who seems so eccentric, even manipulative, and not very nice and easy-going. That, somehow, Tony’s Veronica is picked up right where he left her as her cold and mysterious self, and nothing has changed except her physical appearance. But is that true, or is this what Tony wants us to think of her?

I cannot help but exclaim and write down un my book, “Hah!” as Tony takes back his words and admits men CAN be attracted to both openness and mystery; Margaret AND Veronica. But that doesn’t come up as much of a surprise anymore. Veronica, like Margaret and even Susie, I fear,  are caught up in his unreliable narration. But unlike Veronica, his unreliability is not found in admitting he is wrong about them, but asking himself whether his wife really means that she would like to go with him on a trip, or if his daughter wants him to be part of her life anymore. Issues that become recurrent in the novel, but which are addressed as soon as they are dismissed, as Tony always reaches the conclusion it’s not his responsibility to make a choice, but theirs, if they really wanted him to.

 “How often do we tell our own life story? How often do we adjust, embellish, make sly cuts? And the longer life goes on, the fewer are those around to challenge our account, to remind us that our life is not our life, merely the story we have told about our life. Told to others, but – mainly- to ourselves” (95).

 I find this quote explains, in a way, what The Sense of an Ending is about, and my expectations for the rest of the book, but also how it speaks to us, as individuals. What will we say about ourselves in the future and what have I said about my own past and, to what extent are they all memories, and not the way we decide to remember things? Is memory really what we remember or how we choose to remember?

 But, OH BOY, the letter that followed… Tony says he doesn’t recognise himself in that letter addressed to Adrian and Veronica when they got together. But what a little sh*t he had been about it. [Really the letter starts with: “Dear Adrian – or rather Dear Adrian and Veronica (hello, Bitch, and welcome to this letter…”]. I mean… seriously?

On the one hand, the letter really made me consider what kind of person Tony is, having told us a very different story, and now finding proof of the opposite. It reminds of the ‘official history’ vs. ‘alternative history’ debate we had on Midnight’s Children and also of how Saleem lied deliberately about history, only it seems a bit more pathetic of him to have remembered his ‘official’ history so differently. But, like it or not, that Tony is slowly facing/revising his own past means that perhaps more will be revealed by Veronica of Adrian’s suicide. On the other hand, the more I see he has altered the past to feed his own interests, interests such as painting Veronica as an (almost psychotic) femme fatale, and him as the hero who hasn’t got a clue of himself. Why? Maybe because a part of him just wanted to overcome it, lying to himself and others in an attempt to protect himself.

 Can we really blame him for having deluded himself? Probably not, as I don’t think it’s something that he did deliberately, or meaning any harm. Besides, I can’t say I haven’t been a victim of deluded or misleading memories myself at some point, and probably will be in the future too.

  “Compliments of the season to you, and may the acid rain fall on your joint and anointed heads.” => SUPERB ELEGANCE AND FINESSE, TONY