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god-whispers · 10 months

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jun 24

week in review - headlines

"behold, I come; in the scroll of the book it is written of me." psa 40:7

Scientists Create Synthetic Human Embryos In a groundbreaking advance, scientists created synthetic human embryos by using stem cells and without the need for eggs or sperm. The model embryos don’t have a beating heart or the beginnings of a brain, but researchers say the cells could develop to form the placenta, yolk sac, and even the embryo itself.

As Russia Prepares To Use Tactical Nukes, Millions Of You Don’t Even Realize You Are Going To Die In A Third World War Russia is deploying tactical nuclear weapons to Belarus, and there is lots of talk in the Russian media about using such weapons to bring a quick end to the war in Ukraine. The theory is that once the Russians show that they are willing to use tactical nukes, the U.S. and the other western powers will back off. But that won’t be what happens. ‘In the event of a Third World War, there will be no winners, including America.’

IRONY: Maryland Governor Claims That Keeping Sexually Explicit Books From Children is ‘Castrating’ Them Maryland’s Democrat governor has claimed that keeping sexually explicit books out of schools and children’s sections of libraries is “castrating” them.

Transgenderism: The New Religion – Believe it or Else! Transgenderism is a make-believe religion that when taken seriously endangers the lives of all people, but especially children. Those who share the gospel with others according to the instructions given by Christ, known as the “Great Commission” (Mt 28:18-20) are committed to spreading the good news, but never by force or coercion.

By 2030 you will not eat meat and you will be allowed only three items of new clothing a year, report says A report published in 2019 and re-emphasised in 2023 recommends that by 2030 we will not be permitted to eat meat or dairy products, we will be limited to three items of new clothing per year and one aeroplane flight every three years. It will start in countries that “consume the most.”

Twitch resurrects AI Jesus “The Ask Jesus livestream is an experimental channel allowing viewers to ask questions to an AI trained after Jesus and the teachings of the bible. Whether you’re seeking spiritual guidance, looking for a friend, or simply want someone to talk to, you can join on the journey through life and discover the power of faith, hope, and love.” AI Jesus explained the Sermon on the Mount, comparing it to a Taco Bell menu.

“Children should have sex partners” – The UN agenda to normalize pedophilia The United Nations has issued the document “International Technical Guidance on Sexual Education”.1 It is the official guideline for elementary schools around the world. The goal of this document is described on page 16.

Don’t believe in the globalist depopulation agenda? Then have the courage to read this article! I have over 50 quotes from globalist leaders, both past and present, that clearly state their disdain for the average person and their desire to exterminate as many as possible. If you would like more exposure to this ideology, you may simple use the search on engine on this site and research depopulation.

The UN’s New Fact-Checking System Called “iVerify” Will Be Used To Crack Down On “Misinformation” All Over The World Our world is becoming a creepier place with each passing day. Most of us just want to live our lives in peace without excessive governmental interference, but unfortunately the control freaks that are running things just can’t help themselves. Ultimately, they aren’t going to be happy until they are able to watch, track, monitor and control virtually everything that we write, say and do…And a new tool that was just introduced by the UN will make it much easier for them to control what we write on the Internet…

Former CDC scientist says mRNA vaccines are gene therapy and are not new – “It shouldn’t be in the body of humans at all” A scientist who worked for the CDC in Atlanta outlines how the covid pandemic happened: a virus with a scary name, fraudulently used PCR tests, false predictive modelling, corrupted research and lying scientists.

French man accused of drugging wife, inviting 83 men to rape her, filming sex assaults, saving videos in a file labeled 'ABUSES' A French man is accused of drugging his wife and having at least 83 men rape her over the course of 10 years.

First trans state lawmaker in US arrested on charges of distributing 'child sexual abuse images' Former New Hampshire state Rep. Stacie Marie Laughton (D) was the nation's first-ever transgender person elected to a state legislature. On Thursday, Laughton — a biological man — was arrested on child porn charges.

Bombshell report finds Pentagon’s new surveillance tools can ‘pinpoint’ private citizens In a shocking report published by The Intercept on June 17, details have emerged of a U.S. national security surveillance strategy to covertly track, locate and identify anyone expressing dissent or even dissatisfaction with the actions of the U.S. military and its leadership.

Nation’s Biggest Pediatrics Hospital Pushes Leftism, Discredited COVID Theories On Texas Doctors, Investigation Reveals The largest pediatrics hospital in the country indoctrinates the young doctors who train at the Texas facility into a militant form of far-Left activism through weekly training videos, then accuses those who object of “micro-aggressions,” a Daily Wire investigation revealed.

Midwest teachers trade tips on ‘subversively and quietly’ transitioning kids without telling parents Dozens of Midwestern teachers met online this week and traded tips on helping trans students change gender at school without their parents’ knowledge, while criticizing a raft of new Republican laws on sex and identity. ------- and i could do so much more. the end times are here and our Lord is coming!

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financialsmatter · 1 year

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Zelensky Declaring America Must Send Troops

The desperation/insanity is getting out of hand now that Zelensky is saying that America must sent troops. What? Does he mean that the $136 Billion we’ve already sent isn’t enough? And in addition to berating AND threatening Americans – for not being supportive of his money-laundering – he had the nerve to say: “The US will have to send their sons and daughters exactly the same way as we are sending our sons and daughters to war…because it’s NATO that we’re talking about, and they will be dying.” But here’s what’s most disturbing. Ukraine is so desperate, they will most likely stage a false flag using chemical weapons on their own people to justify NATO coming in. However, Russia has no need to use chemical weapons. Why? According to the TASS news agency, Ukraine has already lost over 250,000 troops and have another 35,000 missing in action. Of course, Ukraine is claiming innocence. At the same time, they’ve recently launched a drone attack in Belarus to destroy Russian planes stationed there. This is in addition to drone attacks inside Russia. Ironically (or NOT) our military is screaming at O’Biden – and have made it very clear – that they do not want boots on the ground in Ukraine to fight Russia. Must Send Troops? And yet, the little pimp/comedian is crying that: We must send troops In addition, we’re hearing reports that the Pentagon is desperately trying to track US weapons that were sent to Ukraine. Returning volunteer soldiers are reporting that Ukrainians are selling our weapons on the black market. So, of the $136 Billion we’ve already sent – which doesn’t include Janet Yellen’s additional $10 Billion pledge – why can’t we account for where the money or weapons are located? This is outright insanity. It’s hard to imagine that we would be the aggressor in the proxy war against Russia. But the Neocons – who have infiltrated the White House – have made it perfectly clear they have no intention of seeking peace. As we’ve said many times before…This will not end well. Bottom line? If you haven’t already done so, prepare for war. And one of the ways to prepare for war is by protecting your investments from the inevitable market volatility. Learn more about it (HERE). And share this with a friend…especially if they have kids who might have to go and die in Ukraine. Remember: We’re Not Just About Finance But we use finance to give you hope. ********************************** Invest with confidence. Sincerely, James Vincent The Reverend of Finance Copyright © 2023 It's Not Just About Finance, LLC, All rights reserved. You are receiving this email because you opted in via our website. Read the full article

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mariacallous · 1 year

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Meduza's The Beet: Lukashenko’s war

Hello, and welcome back to The Beet!

I’m Eilish Hart, the editor of this new email dispatch from Meduza covering Central and Eastern Europe, the Caucasus, and Central Asia. If you missed last week’s feature about Tajikistan’s doxxing problem, it’s now available on our website. Remember, subscribers receive every issue first, so sign up here to make sure you’re on the list.

First elected Belarus’s president in 1994, Alexander Lukashenko spent the better part of the next 26 years suppressing dissent at home, while navigating frosty relations with the West and dragging his feet on further integration with Russia. This balancing act came to a sudden halt in August 2020, when a presidential election marred by political persecution, mass arrests, and election fraud ended with the authorities proclaiming a landslide victory for Lukashenko. Tens of thousands of Belarusians protested and the authorities responded with a brutal crackdown that escalated into a civil society purge. As Western sanctions poured down on Belarus, Lukashenko turned to Vladimir Putin for financial and political support.

With Putin’s backing, Lukashenko managed to stay in power. However, this came at a price. Internationally isolated and lacking legitimacy, Lukashenko threw his lot in with the Kremlin and moved forward with strengthening the Russia-Belarus Union State (more on that later). Then, in February 2022, Moscow used Belarusian territory as a launchpad in a full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Eight months later, Lukashenko is still trying to avoid direct involvement in Russia’s war — at the expense of Belarus’s sovereignty.

Lukashenko’s war

By Eilish Hart

GAVRIIL GRIGOROV / EPA / SPUTNIK / KREMLIN POOL

“The Republic of Belarus has been and remains our closest neighbor, loyal ally, and reliable partner,” Sergey Shoigu intoned at a joint board meeting of the Russian and Belarusian defense ministries on November 2.

Reading from a piece of paper, Shoigu decried NATO’s increased presence in Central and Eastern Europe (a direct result of Russia’s ongoing war against Ukraine), painting it as an imminent threat. “Our allies will also come under attack, especially the brotherly Republic of Belarus,” he said. “Under these conditions, the Defense Ministry considers ensuring the military security of the Union State a priority task.”

Two and a half weeks earlier, thousands of Russian troops began arriving in Belarus for the formation of a new joint force. This Belarus-Russia military group, which previously existed only on paper, is ostensibly meant to defend the Union State to which the two countries formally belong. (Under the alliance’s joint military doctrine, an attack on one member is considered an attack on the entire Union State.)

The deployment prompted fears that Moscow and Minsk could be planning a renewed assault on Ukraine from the north. Alexander Lukashenko’sstatements did little to allay concerns: he accused Ukraine of “planning strikes” on Belarus, adding, “If you want peace, you must prepare for war.” Shortly thereafter, Belarusian media reported that Minsk had begun a “covert mobilization” (something Lukashenko later denied).

Military analysts, meanwhile, maintain that Russian and Belarusian troops are unlikely to launch such an attack. Lukashenko’s regime has played a supporting role in Russia’s full-scale war against Ukraine, thus far, allowing Russian forces to use Belarus as a staging ground but stopping short of sending Belarusian troops across the border.

By all appearances, Lukashenko would like to maintain this status quo. But the final decision on whether or not Belarusian forces invade Ukraine likely lies with Vladimir Putin, experts told The Beet. “If Putin decides he wants Belarusian troops, I don’t think Lukashenko will be able to say no,” said analyst Katia Glod, a non-resident fellow at Center for European Policy Analysis (CEPA). “But at the moment, for a whole series of political and military reasons, it’s just not something that would be a really great asset.”

‘Lukashenko is worried’

According to Glod, dragging Belarus into the war could actually be a liability for Putin — and the military benefits would likely be negligible. The Belarusian Armed Forces, which currently total less than 50,000 active personnel and 290,000 reservists, lack combat experience and only have a handful of highly-trained troops. Writing on Twitter, defense analyst Konrad Muzyka of Rochan Consulting described the Belarusian Armed Forces as “relatively weak.” The Belarusian military, he explained, is “largely a mobilizational force” that would need to call up some 20,000 men to reach full peacetime strength.

Then there’s the political risks of mobilizing for war. “Lukashenko is worried. He understands that if he’s dragged into the war, if there are casualties suffered, this would have a negative effect on his legitimacy and how people perceive him — even his core electorate,” political analyst Katsiaryna Shmatsina told The Beet.

The authoritarian leader’s legitimacy has been hanging by a thread since 2020, when a blatantly rigged presidential election sparked anti-regime protests across Belarus. Lukashenko’s security forces violently suppressed the protest wave, carrying out thousands of arbitrary arrests and torturing hundreds of detainees. Amid the upheaval, Lukashenko traveled to Moscow, where he received political and financial backing from Putin, and pledged to strengthen ties with Russia. “Lukashenko wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for Putin’s support. And the price he paid was loyalty,” Shmatsina said.

Belarusian riot police detain protesters during an anti-Lukashenko rally in Minsk. November 15, 2020.

EPA / SCANPIX / LETA

Now, the prospect of direct involvement in the war is putting Lukashenko at risk of losing what little domestic support he has left. Public opinion polls by Chatham House show that 30 percent of Belarusians support the “special military operation” (Kremlin parlance for the full-scale invasion), but only three percent think their country should join the war on Russia’s side. What’s more, only one in five believe that Belarusian military personnel would agree to take an active part in the war against Ukraine — an equal share think Belarusian soldiers “would refuse to fight or follow orders and lay down their arms.”

Exiled opposition leader Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya, who ran against Lukashenko in 2020, has also claimed that neither he nor the Russian command are confident that Belarusian servicemen would follow orders to invade Ukraine.

Tatsiana Kulakevich, an assistant professor of instruction at the University of South Florida, has expressed similar views. Writing for The Monkey Cage in mid-September, she argued that many of the conscripts that make up the Belarusian army “share the public’s dissatisfaction with the Lukashenko regime,” while Belarusian special operations forces are needed at home to deter popular unrest. “Lukashenko cannot afford to give up these troops as they ensure his grip on power,” she said.

Meanwhile, some 1,500 Belarusian nationals are reportedly fighting on the Ukrainian side. The Kastuś Kalinoŭski Regiment, named after a Belarusian revolutionary who led an uprising against the Russian Empire in the 19th century, is the most prominent force among them. Its stated mission is the “liberation of Belarus through the liberation of Ukraine.” Glod suggested that these Belarusian volunteers may be provoking genuine fears in Lukashenko about an attack from Ukraine.

The fact that Russia continues to suffer defeats in Ukraine is likely compounding Lukashenko’s paranoia, she added: “He’s seen that Putin isn’t doing well on the battle ground. I think he now realizes that Russia might lose [the war].”

Bargaining chip

According to Lukashenko’s announcement, the Union State’s Regional Grouping of Forces (as it is officially known) will consist mainly of Belarusian troops. The Belarusian Defense Ministry later said that the Russian deployment includes just shy of 9,000 personnel. However, Muzyka was quick to point out that the joint force’s Russian component is made up of formations that “have been badly mauled in Ukraine.”

A Mi-24 helicopter performs drills at a training ground in Belarus’s Brest region as part of Allied Resolve 2022, a joint military exercise Russia and Belarus held just before the full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

PETER KOVALEV / TASS

“Their combat capabilities are questionable, to put it mildly,” he wrote in a tweet. “So a new grouping would primarily consist of Belarusian units and Russian reservists. Lukashenko could finally claim that the capabilities of Belarusian and Russian units are equal, and he would probably be right.”

At present, there’s little indication that this military formation is preparing an imminent attack on Ukraine, but it will likely keep Kyiv on high alert. “We have to focus more on what else Lukashenko can do and what he has done,” Glod urged. Russian forces, she recalled, have continued to launch missile and drone strikes from Belarus — and Belarusian instructors are reportedly training Moscow’s new recruits. “All of these things are potentially more dangerous than just sending troops,” she said.

Moreover, the activation of the Regional Grouping of Forces bodes ill for Belarus. According to political analyst Artyom Shraibman, the deployment points to the continued erosion of Belarusian sovereignty — “a process that began in 2020 and accelerated in 2022.” “What was on paper is becoming a reality. But at the same time, this becoming a reality is an indication that Lukashenko is giving up more sovereignty to Russia,” Glod concurred.

Indeed, Lukashenko’s Belarus is lumbering towards even deeper economic, political, and military integration with Russia, within the framework of the Union State. The agreement, signed in 1999 but never fully implemented, has been the subject of intermittent talks for decades. But the negotiations progressed significantly after Putin supported Lukashenko during the 2020 opposition protests in Belarus.

In November 2021, Putin and Lukashenko signed a package of 28 “union programs” on an array of economic and regulatory issues, and approved an updated military doctrine. Allegedly, Moscow and Minsk have implemented nearly half of these “programs” this year. And it isn’t just the activation of the Regional Grouping of Forces that’s raising red flags. A tax-harmonization agreement reached in September drew criticism, as well. “What Belarusian economists are saying is that this is essentially selling your tax sovereignty for two kopecks,” Shmatsina told The Beet.

Though Lukashenko has resisted total integration in the past, his increased political and economic reliance on Russia means his capacity to do so is markedly diminished now. Which means it may come down to what Moscow wants. “The complete loss of Belarus’s sovereignty didn’t make sense for Russia before,” Shmatsina explained. “It’s convenient to have an independent state in your neighborhood, [where] you have lots of influence. [...] But now I don’t have a clear answer or prediction.”

The first Russian troops from the Regional Grouping of Forces arriving in Belarus. October 15, 2022.

BELARUSIAN DEFENSE MINISTRY

Russia’s war against Ukraine only makes things more uncertain. Putin has consistently chosen escalation and appears increasingly desperate to consolidate Russia’s gains (as exemplified by Moscow’s proclaimed annexation of partially-occupied Ukrainian regions). In this context, there’s little reason to believe that the Kremlin will loosen its grip on Belarus — even if the war drastically weakens Russia.

“I don’t agree with those optimists who say that Ukraine’s victory would mean that Belarus would be liberated,” Shmatsina underscored. “[There’s] a much gloomier prospect where Belarus becomes a bargaining chip in Ukraine and the West’s negotiations with Russia.”

That’s all for this week!

If you enjoyed this issue of The Beet, feel free to share it far and wide. If you really liked it, consider supporting our work by making a donation to Meduza’s crowdfunding campaign. Until next time,

Eilish

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sailorawesomepants · 4 years

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Day 4 of Aph Rare Pair Week features some spicy letters + siblings because I felt like drawing Canada and Ukraine.

@aphrarepairweek2020

#hetalia #aph america #aph belarus #aphrarepairweek2020 #amebel #aph canada #aph ukraine #sailorawesomepants #sailorawesomepantsarts #canada is shook #america is showing off #ukraine thinks love is cute #belarus justs wants to read in peace

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barnesandco · 4 years

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Plzplzplzzzzz can you write a buckyxdeaf reader imagine, I just got my hearing aids after being diagnosed as moderate deaf a few months ago and there’s not enough of them imagines!!🥺 where reader gets her hearing aids or gets insecure about her deafness

Relearning

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: One very short allusion to the Winter Soldier. Insecurities about disabilities. Brief mention of a supporting character’s nightmares.

A/N: Thank you again for thinking of me for this request, nonny. I hope I was able to provide what you wanted.

They day they arrive, your face falls like a confirmation of your worst anticipations. Hearing aids, as small and inconspicuous as possible, hidden if you close the fist you hold then in, lie on your palm, unassuming. Bucky's the only one who reads the tension in the hard way you've set you shoulders, and makes some indications to Steve that he picks up on immediately and clears out the common area. Nobody was staring in the first place -- only Tony had come up to the two of you at the chess table with the case in hand -- but Bucky knows you need your space, your time. He doesn't expect you to seek that distance away from him, too.

When the area is empty, you sit with Bucky's hand over one tightly clenched fist laid on the table, almost drawing blood, the other shaking furiously. He rises from his side to make his way to you, and you stand, too. But before he can get to you, you leave. Hearing aids in hand and tears barely held back, while Bucky feels as helpless as he ever has.

-----

Going back to his room, he thinks of when it all began. The explosion in Belarus a year ago, just before he could work up the courage to ask you out. The blast impaired your hearing and you started lip reading, made sure nobody approached you from behind. Refused to let Bucky learn sign language for your sake because you were convinced it would get better soon, even though he knew you were learning it yourself. Only, it didn’t, and the doctor’s appointments reinforced that idea, wrote it in concrete, and you tried to live with it regardless.

Naturally, you had to relent to medical opinion at some point, and you underwent further testing and Tony starting working on your hearing aids alongside a biomedical engineer from MIT named Hailey. This was the destination, and he suspected it would be hard to come to terms with, but he wished he had prepared for it better. If only he knew what to do.

-----

It takes you a full day to leave your room. The only reason Bucky doesn't break down your door is because Friday told him you're still eating.

When you emerge, it is a Saturday morning. Exercise hour. The morning is golden and yellow-green against the backdrop of the grounds the Sun has just risen over. Summer has sunk deep enough into early May's bones that the temperature is lukewarm.

He's hidden in the breakfast nook in the kitchen wearing ridiculous sheep patterned sweatpants -- Wanda's idea of a gag gift -- having opted out of the gym in hopes that you might reappear, and you do. Eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed, ethereal radiance dimmed but he accepts you to be the most wondrous person he knows even now.

Especially now, when you are hopefully able to utilize the sense that used to be impaired. The hearing aids look unusual on you, but only the way in which new things do. Something you do not recognize but are prepared to learn.

He watches you ready your breakfast. A couple of Wanda's blueberry muffins and jasmine tea. You love tea and he loves you. The crinkle in your nose, that he has missed so, as you wait for the water to boil. An itch behind your ear -- a new gesture, but just as endearing -- while the kettle simmers and hisses.

Still unaware of his presence, with your eyes focused elsewhere and ears not quite tuned to their aids, you sit at the kitchen island facing the window, the grass lawns, the fresh air seeping in through the opening. He watches you relish the morning on your face, your closed eyes and the curve of your lips loose and relaxed instead of in a frown like he last saw it. The moment is as still as ice, your forms frozen in glacier time, and Bucky, for all his hatred of the cold, would gladly stay in it if you'll let him be this close to you.

His own limbs release the stress in his shoulders slowly, springs unwinding in his marrow with creaks audible to his mind, and he breathes a little slower, more naturally, more at ease now that you are here. His life vein, his gentle love.

The muffins are consumed slowly, your tongue peeking out to lick the last of their taste from your lips, the way Wanda's baking deserves to be savored. You nurse your tea in your hands for a long time, trying to take all the heat you can through the porcelain. Your fingers are always cold, Bucky knows. He has had too many tangled-bedsheet mornings, with your hands offering enough weight for him to feel but never enough for his skin to warm yours.

For a second, in between one rustle of the leaves in the border trees and the next, he forgets where he is, and loses himself in the memory of pressing your hands to his neck, letting you warm yourself by his collarbone and relishing in the hot goosebumps elicited by the movement of your hands down his abdomen.

But then you put your mug in the sink, and on instinct, Bucky rises and calls your name. Loud enough that he knows you'll hear him, but soft enough not to startle you. Everything is a delicate balance with you, a see-saw he is more than happy to keep in the air for you.

You're surprised to see him there, and you start to turn away, but Bucky speaks again.

"Please. Please, honey. Don't turn away," he pleads to your crestfallen expression, heart tearing at the seams. You need to understand that he is not going to give up on you for this, just like you've never turned away his metal arm.

Your hoarse voice, tired and sad in equal measure, says "Sorry." And you leave, again.

-----

Bucky does the only thing he can think of. He goes to Clint. The archer’s Bed-Stuy apartment emits sounds of vacuum cleaning and Bucky rings the bell twice before calling him. His phone bell is paired with his hearing aids, so he answers quickly, and lets Bucky in.

“You’re... cleaning,” Bucky states in a questioning voice, looking around at the apartment he has never seen in such a clean condition previously.

Clint clears his throat uncomfortably as he heads to the kitchen. “Yeah, Nat wanted to stay over for a bit and you know her...” he says with his face in the fridge, rummaging for Coca Cola, and indeed, Bucky does know. He knows of her clean-freak tendencies and the spate of nightmares she’s been having that might induce her to seek Clint’s comfort from the new, bad memories a mission in Moscow last month dredged up.

“So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Clint asks pleasantly, forcing away the sympathetic sorrow in both of their minds.

Bucky blanches. He isn’t here for pleasantries, but he’s sure Clint will understand. “Could you teach me sign language?” Bucky asks back, and watches Clint consider the question. Clint knows about the recent arrival of your hearing aids, and your consequent insecurities.

“Of course,” is the answer, and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Looks forward to learning something new. Something to bring him closer to you again.

-----

Bucky spends a month with his heart aching whenever you pass by him, thankfully no longer hiding away but still refusing to let him in, and he tries to invest his energy into showing you he loves you still, loves you always, and he does not think any lesser of you.

Clint is patient. It takes Bucky’s hands a while to get used to the smooth, elegant flow of fingers to fist, to shape, to mold into meaning because he is so used to using his words. All that time with the mask has made him grateful for every letter he gets the chance to utter, but he will gladly give it up for you. If this sacred tongue that involves no tongue at all, that relays meaning through the extension of his forefinger, thumb and pinky from a fist -- love -- and the hand over his face -- beautiful -- and two peace signs joined at the top -- partner -- is what it takes to be yours, he’ll practise till you smile again.

-----

It takes another month for you to sit across from him at the chess table he has been waiting at since your hearing aids arrive. You hesitate by your chair. Bucky lifts his hands.¨

Flat right hand over the center of his chest. Clockwise arc. Please.

Thank you. Your fingers go from touching your lips to bringing your hand forth in a flat palm in front of him. Once you’ve sat down, Bucky rolls out the chess pieces, and you set them up.

Bucky watches you with scared scrutiny, praying for no wrong moves. Once the pieces are set up, you make your move, and then wait for Bucky. I love you, he signs, while the hubbub of the common area falls away. The world is silent save for the screaming brightness of your face. His only melody. His quiet choir. His silent muse.

I love you, too, you sign, and reach across the table to take his hand. Your smile is shaking, like it’s holding the weight of worlds, and Bucky takes the burdens away, leaning across to kiss your lips. The moment is a bubble of wonder, of marvellous adoration, where the air holds its breath. Your hands find Bucky’s hair as his come up to cradle your jaw gently. A metal finger traces over a hearing aid while his thumb strokes over your cheekbone. Stronger smiles form against each other’s lips. This is what home feels like.

#ayesha writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

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goldenpinof · 4 years

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What kind of sources do you recommend learning more from? I only really know the basics but I want to learn more in depth about what’s happening. Are there any people or sources you recommend?

hi! well, turned out it’s quite hard to find sources in English. before listing ig/telegram/fb accounts i wanna say that, as much as i know, bbcnews and euronews show a decent amount of important footage from the protests and the coordination council (also known as the opposition, which is quite funny). and this is great, i’m very happy to see that. but i don’t think it’s enough because things are happening every day and there is quite strong propaganda happening in support of the current authority (with a transparent help from our “great” neighbor - Russia).

list of instagram accounts (including art accounts) with links that partly cover protests and just news in general:

voicesfrombelarus

storiesfrombelarus

belarus_liberta

highlightbelarus

artistswithbelarus

welcome.to.belarus - in russian (sorry) but the pics are good in itself

belarusfreetheatre

telegram account that tells news in english:

Pray for Belarus

facebook group:

Pray for Belarus

i’m sure some people have already done lists like that before. also, i know that there’s a lot of information and partly it copies one another. but, please, don’t let this stop you from learning something new and spreading awareness. i KNOW how hard it can be, i read news in 3 languages for the past 2-3 weeks and sometimes it makes me sick. but after all the violence, kidnapping, rape, murder and lies that happened after this elections, i don’t think the government gave us a choice.

it is true that some days we don’t have internet in Belarus due to the government shutting it down, so sometimes we can’t immediately share what is happening. luckily somehow some news accounts can (for now). please, be aware of the propaganda, don’t be afraid of asking people about ANYTHING you see on the internet or tv. most people who go to the streets and participate in peaceful prоtests have a lot of pictures and videos that they would be happy to share. my ig account where i post my pics from the protests is in bio (tho it’s privated for the sake of safety especially now. dm me if you wanna follow me or whatever).

if i find any other sources i’ll add them. if anyone found any mistakes or/and is not sure about any of the links, please, dm me. idk what can happen, so i’m ready for anything ✊🏻

#belarus #protests #anyone can reblog it #anyone can comment #thank you for this ask tbh.#i wanted to find english sources a long time ago grrfdjfsd #free belarus #personal #answered

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unhonestlymirror · 8 months

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Hi! I’m an American fan of hetalia, trying to find how different fans see their characters. I’ve been reading your posts and I’m super interested in your headcanons about Ukraine now. Like what human name do you use for her? How old is she? Does she have any siblings, even if they died/faded over time? I see your many posts against Russified Ukraine/Belarus, so obviously they’re not related to him, but any other nations? Are Ukraine and Belarus related to each other but not Russia? What about nations they’re friends with? I’m very curious!

Hello!

I use Myroslava Nepyimore. Myroslava - "she, who glorifies peace", "peaceful and glorious"; Nepyimore - "don't drink sea" Cossack's style. Short nickname: Slava.

How old is she? 1000 years for sure. The first known documented "Ukraine" word is already 836 years old.

Well, about siblings. I don't know if other countries have the same, but in Ukraine, when people (usually 50+) call other country's people as siblings, it means the expression of gratitude or support, not the statement that we are relatives. (I've seen Ukrainians calling Japanese siblings.) That's an obsolete expression of gratitude, which was most likely installed by soviets, but anyway. In this context, "брати/сестри" means more like "побратими" - "spiritual named siblings" - and, I repeat, it had ZERO encroachment on territory and culture. However, thanks to rashists, we avoid saying this now to anyone. We didn't know russians used a "three brotherlike sisters" card for a try to quietly occupy our land and kill millions of people.

Siblinghood among countries is a very shaky, purely based on politics conception. Calling Ukraine and russia siblings is the same as calling Lithuania and Teutonic Prussia siblings. I even doubt the Baltics would call themselves siblings if not a constant threats from russia. (Latvians like to joke that since Estonia wants to be Nordic and Lithuania wants to be Central Europe, they are the only Baltic country left).

I just find the concept of "siblings" in hetalia stupid in general, especially how they use age as the main determinant of older/younger sibling because, in such case, Lithuania is Latvia's uncle.

Any country is somehow related to their neighbours. Modern days russia (after Golden Horde times) is definitely MUCH less related to Ukrainians than Belarus.

No, Ukraine doesn't have siblings. Maybe it's for the better. She has adoptive daughter Crimea tho (currently captured by russia). Belarus people usually consider Lithuanians as their siblings, but they don't *call* them siblings because they don't want to look like russians with their "famous" claim to kinship.

It's easier to say with whom Ukraine is not friends. The answer is easy. Belarus tries to befriend everyone, and that's why they're currently occupied.

#ask #hetalia #hws ukraine #aph ukraine #hws belarus #aph belarus #tw: hws aph russia

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 years

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Belarus's online/offline uprising

"Europe's last dictator," Alexander Lukashenko of Belarus, has been a kind of test-case for the efficacy of various technologically enabled pro-democracy tactics for decades.

Back in 2006, protesters in Minsk challenged his ban on protests by announcing that eating ice-cream was a form of protest, then they showed up and ate ice-cream...and got arrested.

https://users.livejournal.com/litota-/photo/album/2445

They followed this up by announcing that smiling at each other was a form of protest and showed up, smiling, in the same square, and were met with hundreds of riot cops who later rounded up the organizers:

https://boingboing.net/2006/10/05/belarus-smile-mob-or.html

But opposition groups kept organizing, using international online spaces, even after visiting websites hosted outside of Belarus was declared a misdemeanor.

And while the country had little technological capacity of its own, it was able to buy turnkey authoritarian services from the likes of the Swedish company Teliasonera and Italian arms-dealer Hacking Team.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2012/05/swedish-telcom-giant-teliasonera-caught-helping-authoritarian-regimes-spy-its

With new surveillance gear in place, Lukashenko was able to do things like enumerate the identity at every attendee at a protest via their mobile phones.

https://charter97.org/en/news/2011/1/12/35161/

But despite this, protests kept growing. After all, Lukashenko is a terrible leader.

It wasn't just the blatantly stolen "elections" - it was flexes like arresting a one-armed man for clapping:

https://loweringthebar.net/2013/01/one-armed-man-arrested-for-clapping.html

And lavish dingbattery like equipping school uniforms with special "anti-cancer pockets":

https://web.archive.org/web/20090820215848/http://neteffect.foreignpolicy.com/posts/2009/08/13/belarus_develops_school_uniform_that_makes_tin_foil_hates_obsolete

But these paled in comparison to the substantive bad policies, like an extremely high tax levied exclusively against unemployed people, during a deep recession, called the "Tax on social parasites."

https://www.reuters.com/article/us-belarus-protests-idUSKBN15Y0PB

The current Belarusian uprising was triggered by yet another stolen election, but it represents decades of grievances and trauma, loved ones and leader arrested and put to hard labor, torture, privation, and terror.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/14/shock-doctrine/#walkaway

And the regime seems closer to collapse than at any previous time, thanks to the protesters perseverance and endless ingenuity. First, riot cops downed their shields, embraced protesters, and refused to arrest them.

Then, demonstrators started doxing the balaclava-clad, badgeless shock troops, exposing their identities ahead of major protests, inviting the men behind those masks to contemplate their fates if the Lukashenko regime falls.

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/world/hackers-appear-leak-personal-data-1-000-belarusian-police-officers-n1240566

Most recently, protesters hacked into the state TV channels to broadcast footage of police violence against peaceful demonstrators.

https://twitter.com/BFreeTheatre/status/1309940635646992384

The protestors' accompanying Telegram post read: "If Belteleradiocompany does not want to show people the truth, we will show it."

https://112.international/society/cyber-partisans-hack-websites-of-state-channels-in-belarus-55069.html

#pluralistic

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blackevermore · 3 years

Text

x Once Upon A Dream

Summary: Ivan’s dreams can be soft, they can be warm, they can leave a smile on his face. And sometimes he has nightmares that are a haunting reminder to his past. But tonight he will dream of something beautiful

Notes: I got the idea for this story while reading Historical Hetalia and it was suppose to go a different route but I guess I wanted something cute and fluffy.

Word Count: 3, 508

Ivan had many dreams that he could and couldn’t remember. Dreams that he wished he could hold on to and stay in and never awaken from. He had dreams where his house was full of life and familiar faces. Dreams of people he hasn’t seen in years sitting casually in his sitting room enjoying their time. He even had dreams of people he couldn’t recall the names of but he knew they were important, so much so, he would hug them tight and welcome them home. But just like every good dream, there are nightmares waiting to have its turn. And Ivan wasn’t mentally capable of keeping them away long enough. The one he hated the most was of him as a young nation running in the dead of winter through the woods. He never knew what was chasing him, he could never figure it out, he had so many ‘what if’s’ but not enough closure. So when he flinches awake in the bitter cold of his bedroom sweating and panting he forgets that now he isn’t alone. Trying to catch his breath and calm himself down he realizes it’s so cold inside his room he can see his breath, and the body beside him is starting to stir awake.

When he can feel the shaking in his chest settle he kicks over his feet and leaves the bed. The cold will follow him and leave her alone. He grabs a robe to cover himself despite being able to handle a slight dip in temperature. But this cold is different, it freezes him from the inside, it’s near his heart. His heart? Ivan rams a hand up to his chest to feel if something is missing, again. It’s there, still inside and nested, he was grateful he wouldn’t have to go back into his bedroom to find it. He continues through the large halls of his home till he finds the kitchen. He shouldn’t drink in the late hours but it’s what he knows to make the shivering stop. With a bottle of vodka in one hand and a glass in the other, he goes to his favourite spot. The old brown leather chair has been in the same spot for years upon years. A few have sat in the chair prior to him but it was Ivan that called the chair his favourite. It was comfortable, broken in, and still supported the bad spots in his back. Before Ivan can claim his spot he starts a fire and stands too close for mortal comfort. It’s warm on his hands and his face, for now, it is his small ounce of summer.

Once in the chair, Ivan wastes no time opening his bottle and pour one...two...three glasses and downing them all with ease. His throat burns, a feeling he had been cutting back on for a few months, he misses it, the pain, it was a friendly reminder of things. He closes his eyes and sighs as the warmth inside his body starts to blend with the warmth from the fire. The cold that loomed over him slowly starts to fade away and he’s shoulder relax. For many many years, he’s hated the cold and everything it stood for. He’s hated the general, the famine, the dryness, the destruction, the loneliness, and of course the death. He could count on his fingers and toes how many times he nearly lost his mind to the siren’s call of frostbite, to unhappily awaken to his commands dead beside him instead of him joining them. Ivan was envious and petty and cursed them for leaving him behind. But deep down he was glad they could finally rest in peace. He wanted their peace. Nights like those were common then as night like these were common now. Less reckless and catastrophic but common none the less as he nursed himself with vodka.

The fire beside him became fiercely and it was comforting, it was almost like a gentle lullaby. He had two more glasses before he realized the bottle was gone, not even a drop made it past his lips. Satisfied yet disappointed in how hasty he was, he put his glass and bottle beside his chair and shifted to get even more comfortable in his seat. Once he found the right spot he crossed his hands in front of him and watched the flames. The silence only lasted for a moment as it started to remind him how empty he house actually was. The life that once occupied it was gone and every night was filled with mind-twisting silence. So he began to hum a tone that randomly came into his head, then he started to sing. Not many people knew Ivan could sing, only those that ever stayed in his house knew he would randomly break out into song when he was in a good mood. Which wasn’t a lot despite the constant smile he wore around everyone. The Baltics could really range themselves depending on if they heard him humming or singing while he worked around his house.

As his voice filled the room he was in, he slowly began to slip into a comfortable sleep. With a few more notes on his tongue and the melody fading in his ears, Ivan fell asleep unsure if he would have a dream or a nightmare.

Ivan was a child standing in the doorway of his bedroom crying. He didn’t know why he was crying nor could he stop the tears that fell to his feet. As he tried to wipe away the few that lingered on his face but they seem to gather faster than his little hand could manage. A pair of hands wrapped themselves around him and soon Ivan was held up in the air then pressed again someone’s side. He looked up through his tears and saw a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes that looked like his sister’s.

“Why do you cry, my child?” She said. Ivan shook his head and hung it in shame. The woman chuckled and placed a finger under his chin to raise his head. She then began to wipe his tears and they stayed away unlike before. She kisses his head and pulls him in close and walks away from the room. Ivan couldn’t stop himself from snuggling into her and feeling safe. This woman was familiar, from very long ago, this woman he knew of but couldn’t remember her name. He didn’t care, not when he felt warm in her arms, he could think about her name later as long as he got to stay where he was. Soon the woman stopped walking and patted his back lightly. Ivan pulled away from his spot against her and looked up towards her then around. They were in his dining room and his sisters sat at the table. The woman sat him down in a chair in front of his sisters then smoothed his hair down. Ivan watched as she vanished through a doorway the turned back towards his sisters who were now older. He knew their country names but something inside him told him not to call them that. Ukraine was Yekaterina and Belarus was Natalya, they weren’t countries as they sat at the table, they were people who lived forever, or so he thought. Yekaterina was telling him something that seemed important by the way her eyebrows knotted. He couldn’t hear her and it worried him that she would think he didn’t care. He cared, he cared so much more than he ever made an effort to show her. When she finished she looked like she was going to cry and rose from her seat.

She came towards him and hugged him, “I’ll be back, I promise, I won’t be gone for long. I love you, Ivan.” He finally heard her voice and he smiled and hugged her back. A feeling inside him told him this goodbye was a lot different than the one he heard when she left before. This goodbye meant she would be back before he could actually miss her. When they pulled away it wasn’t the face of his eldest sister anymore staring back at him. Instead, it was his youngest sister trying her hardest to hold back her tears. She now looked as old as she did in current times, her dazzling beauty was evident.

“Why do you have to go? Why can’t you stay home first then go? Why can’t I come with you? I want to come with you.” Always so determined to have her way when it came to her brother, Natalya held onto her brother with a death grip.

“I’ll be back before you know it, Talya, I’ll be home for the holidays.” Ivan managed to get his sister’s grip loose on his jacket and he kissed her knuckles before kissing her forehead. Natalya seemed to let her defences go and slowly back away from Ivan. Then the woman from before -- Kievan Rus, his mother, he finally remembers her -- she came to him now as an old woman with long silver hair braided into a bun and traditional clothes. He now towered over her but it meant nothing when she pulled him down to her level to hold him in a tight hug. She whispered prayers into his ear and told him to have a safe journey. Ivan had no idea where he was going but he knew that he had to go or he’d be late getting there. He kissed his mother’s cheek then pulled away so he could grab his bags and began to walk away towards nothing. As things started to fade into white the brightness from the sky became blinding. He stopped walking and rose a hand to cover his eyes a bit. As he stood there for a moment trying to figure out why it was so bright the world around changed along with his clothes. He finally looked back down and he was standing in a courtyard surrounded by only a few people.

He knew everyone that occupied the space, he knew them whether he had met them a few times or casually. They seemed to be doing something which confused him as he felt they were all late. Everyone was dressed in a matching uniform that bore the logo of the school they were at. Ivan didn’t remember ever going to school in his life but he felt like this was correct in a way. He even felt as if everyone here were friendly with one along despite events that had happened in all of their lives.

“Heeeey...Ivaaaaaan...Earth to Ivaaaan. Dude, come on!” Ivan snapped his neck to the side and saw America, Alfred, standing there snapping his fingers in his face. Ivan felt the pull to reach out and strangle the other for doing so but he swallowed it and put on a smile. Alfred was his friend after all, right? “Dude I’ve been trying to get you attention for a while. You just stopped walking all of a sudden and looked up. You good?” Ivan wanted to tell America he was fine and that it was nothing but the words never made it out. All he could do was nod and smile, Alfred still seemed concerned but left it alone as he went back to rambling about his weekend. Ivan took a moment to gather himself before following the bubbly American into the school. When he pushed passed the door someone ran into him and stumbled passed him. They gave a quick apology and hurried on their way. Ivan couldn’t even catch a glance of the person as they quickly ran out the door, all he saw was messy braids bouncing as they ran. When he turned around he was now in another building. This building was the grant meeting lobby that he normally stood in before the UN began. He looked around and saw he was actually standing in a half circle amongst people he could possibly consider a friend. Francis was telling Arthur about the new interns that were finally coming to the meeting with them. Arthur shook his head and said something about not needing help. Ivan knew this conversation, he heard it a year ago while at a meeting, but this time he knew he wasn’t a country, none of them were. They were people, humans that worked for their countries. A weird sense of happiness bubbled in Ivan’s stomach as he felt a weird sense of freedom.

“So Ivan what do you think of this whole intern business? Silly, isn’t it?” Arthur asked Ivan, who had to remember what was being said.

“Da,” he finally had control over his voice and it felt refreshing to hear himself. Being silent for so long was secretly starting to worry him.

“See I knew he would agree, we don’t need help during a job we’ve been doing for the past seven years.” Arthur threw his hands up dramatically and rolled his eyes. Seven years? Only seven? Centuries Ivan though in his head, centuries of listening to the world problems and either ignoring them or doing something about them.

“He only agrees with you because he chose to opt out of the program, just like I did.” Yao waved his hand in the air and shook his head. Ivan turned his eyes towards Yao and smiled. Yao was the oldest friend he had, for a while he was the only friend he had until the turn of the age.

“Even when there is an adorable darling sitting next to you?” Francis threw his hand up to his forehead to fake faint before winking towards Arthur, who shot him a look of disgust and turned away. Just then the sound of a very loud American filled the hall alongside a very concerned voice following behind him. Ivan saw the duo of noise come strolling in but quickly his eyes fixed on the woman that stood beside Alfred. Everyone else seemed to notice too but it was Francis that saw what Ivan saw.

The French man stepped around the group behind Ivan, “Even if they are the apple of your eye?” Francis' voice started to fade away like the wind blowing past Ivan. Now he was standing outside a cafe with his hands in his pocket caressing a box. He was waiting for someone to come out of the cafe and it made him so anxious. He was so worried about what they would say and how they would react. He had been planning this for months, he talked it over with his mother and his sisters. He even told his friends about it, Alfred was hesitant at first but he soon gave the Russian bear the green light.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Ivan, I had to use the bathroom.” The girl in front of him was Melpomene, Mel for short, his girlfriend. He held up a hand to tell her she was fine, his voice was once again gone. Mel smiled at him and nodded and began to walk away. Ivan felt his nervousness raise and the air in his lungs hitch, he threw out a hand and grabbed her gently to pull her back. As he spun her back around he fell to one knee and pulled out the box. But now Mel was dressed in a beautiful white dress crying as Ivan slid the ring onto her finger.

“I do.” They said at the same time and crowns were placed on their heads in Russian tradition. Ivan leaned in to have his kiss from her and it felt just like first time he did it. They quickly started walking down the aisle as all their friends congratulated them and gave them blessings for a bright future. Ivan couldn’t take his eyes off Mel as his heart felt like it was going to fall out of his chest. He held a hand up to his chest just in case, he felt high on life, happier than he ever did. He felt that his life was going on the course it was supposed to go on. Mel turned to him beaming just as much as he was and she leaned in to kiss him again. When they pulled away Ivan saw Mel’s mouth starting to move but he couldn’t hear her. He knotted his brows hoping she would repeat herself and she playfully rolled her eyes.

“We’re having a boy.”

“But I wanted a girl.” Ivan responded playfully and the world around them changed again as they now stood facing each other back in his home in an empty bedroom.

“Ivan.” Mel playful pushed his shoulder but it did nothing considering how tall and strong he was.

“Any child is fine. As long as I can hear their laughter in the halls and their joy through the walls. I will happily bear them all.” Ivan says as he places his hand on Mel’s already giant stomach and kisses her cheek. Mel kisses him back and pats his hand before pulling away and waddling out the room. Ivan smiled as he watched her leave then he turned around to face out the window as he caught the first sign of snow. Normally he would be a bit off by the first snowfall, but now he welcomed it.

“Ivan? Ivan where are you?” An old woman's voice called out to him from the hallway. Ivan turned around just as he heard the soft footsteps enter the room. He knew the old woman in front of him was Mel even with the wrinkles and silver hair. She looked even more graceful as she did when she was younger. Wiser. Softer. Full of so much life and stories. So many memories that he knew all about because he was there. She was human. Mel made her way towards him and took his hand into hers and rubbed circles.

“Do you think everyone will make it home for the holidays?” Ivan’s voice was older and softer. He didn’t have to see to know the face he had now was that of an old man.

“I’m sure they will, they always do.” Mel smiled and Ivan hummed as he agreed with her. He turned towards the window once more to see that the sun was now setting and the snow was now settled. He smiled and turned back towards Mel and kissed her. But when he felt her lips they felt real, they felt like they were beyond the world he was in. When Ivan pulled away everything started to blur around him except Mel. She only smiled and rose a hand to his cheek. Ivan nestled into her palm and let out a big sigh, he didn't want this to end. He knew this was a dream, a very good dream he didn’t want to wake up from. He had finally lived his life and was an old man with a beautiful wife and a family that was coming home for the holidays. But as he held on to what was left of the dream he started to come back into reality.

“I love you so much, Любимая моя,” Ivan whispers.

“I love, Ivan. Now wake up.” Mel’s voice echoed around him and Ivan finally stirred from his sleep. Mel was standing beside him holding his face. She was wrapped in a heavy blanket and smiling as sweetly as she always did when greeting him in the morning. The fire had gone out hours ago and the sun peered through the curtains in front of the tall windows. Ivan took hold of Mel's hand feeling how warm and real she felt compared to her dream self. Ivan kissed her palm countless times before he pulled her down and captured her lips.

“I could have stayed up with you.” Mel tells him as they pull away and Ivan makes it too his feet to stretch, a pop coming from his back then a heavy sigh.

“You needed to stay in bed where it was warm. I was fine by myself.” Ivan ensured her then took her hand into his as they walked towards the kitchen to start breakfast.

“But you’re not alone, Ivan, not anymore.” Mel leaned into his arm and Ivan leant down and kissed her head. She was right. But he knew how things would end in the long run. His dream was the most beautiful dream he had ever had and he wished for nothing more than it to become real. He wanted to grow old and die with the ones he loved. He wanted a family and a hall filled with children and people. But he knew what it coasted to be greedy so he swallowed his dream and kept it tucked in his heart. Mel was right here, right now, and Ivan’s heart was content with that. Ivan could feel the spring inching closer the more he embraced what he had. Mother Russia was becoming warm once again.

#🌻Optimistic Tragedy🌻#hetalia ship #hetalia #self ship #self shipping #self shipping community #s/i x canon #my writing #hws russia #aph russia

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alphaflyer · 4 years

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The Sokovia Accords: A short legal analysis

Okay, so, enough of you expressed an interest in my having a little go at the Sokovia Accords. In case you drift off halfway through the impending treatise, there’s a shorter, possibly funner, version in my fic The Futurist.

*coughs* So anyway, here goes my expert opinion on why the Sokovia Accords are worth exactly the paper they are printed on, and no more. (There is more I could say, but its late and I will spare you the totally inside baseball stuff.)

1. States don’t make treaties with people, only with each other

International law governs the conduct of states, not that of individuals. That is so because law is a matter of state sovereignty, meaning only a state can make laws that affect its citizens or people in its territory. Where a treaty deals with the rights or actions of individuals (i.e. treaties about human rights or counter-terrorism offences), it obliges those States that agree to it to implement laws that do the thing the treaty wants to achieve. (As in, ”States parties agree to enact the necessary legislation to make xxx an offence under criminal law...”)

Natasha signing an international treaty in her own personal capacity? Not happening. Ever. Why? Powerful as she is, she is not a state.

2. Treaties take years to negotiate

Negotiating a treaty at the UN means first getting states’ agreement to negotiate; this is done through a resolution at the General Assembly. This can take a veeery looong time, not least because negotiations costs money (average of $40k a day for interpretation etc). Then, time slots are usually 2 weeks, no more, and have to be fitted in with the existing agenda (not that many conference rooms that hold 193 member states). If you’re lucky, you can get 2 weeks twice a year. A tome the size of the Accords would take several such sessions, especially as it covers new areas of law. Oh, and good luck getting the Chinese, the Russians and the Cubans and their friends to agree to something the US considers a priority.

Anyway. Let’s say you got your time slots in Vienna (nevermind that international peace and security matters are usually negotiated in New York), and you can start negotiating.

3. Say what???

The substance of the Accords is ... complicated, even beyond this whole novel concept of binding individuals under international law. What exactly constitutes avenging, and how would you define it? Would it cover things our military does on occasion, or might like to do, in which case - no thanks? States have been trying to negotiate a treaty that would define terrorism (as opposed to specific terrorist acts, like bombing) for 24 years and haven’t gotten anywhere, because they can’t agree on a definition - because some countries would like to define certain other countries’ military actions as ‘terrorism’ (think Middle East). Who is liable for damages? If Steve Rogers is a US national and breaks a building in Lagos, does the US have to pay Nigeria since Steve probably doesn’t have the money? Who determines how much? And who sits on the Committee who decides when they can legally deploy, and what are the parameters of the mandate and the rules of engagement? What happens if the US wants to say ‘go’ and the distinguished Committee Member from Belarus says nyet because Putin tells him to?

But, okay. Let’s say everybody agrees to who and what is an Avenger, and what exactly they do that states want to prohibit, and how and when to let them loose. Then comes...

4. The small matter of US politics

Anyone who reads the papers will know that the US, especially the Republican Senate, reallyreally don’t like “the UN telling us what to do.” Especially in the area of international peace and security. I don’t think I need to elaborate here, but this is a country that’s just stopped making its payments to the World Health Organization in the middle of a global pandemic. Do you really think they’d want to subject deployment of their strongest defence system to the whims of, say, the UN Security Council? Not gonna happen.

5. Signature, shmignature

Okay, disregard all of the above. A miracle has happened. The accords have gone through with the enthusiastic support of the US government, and everyone has signed, after King T’Chaka’s body has been taken away and the broken glass swept up. What’s the impact?

Signature means that a state has made a political commitment to a treaty - but it is not yet legally bound by it. Signature only means that the state won’t do anything outrageous that runs contrary to the purposes and principles of the treaty. For its provisions to become binding, you need an extra step: ratification or accession.

Here is why:

International law is not the same as domestic law. It only governs the conduct of states vis a vis each other, and what they agree to do. As already mentioned, in order to give effect to a treaty in their own country and legal system, States have to implement its provisions under their own laws. For some, the mere act of ratifying a treaty makes it domestic law, and then the state doesn’t have to bother re-writing its Criminal Code, or whatever. The US is not among those countries. Under the US Constitution, the Senate must give “advice and consent” before the US will be bound by a treaty and creates the necessary legislation. NB: It took the US Senate 42 years to ratify the Genocide Convention, which should really have been a no-brainer, and it still hasn’t ratified the Convention on the Rights of the Child, the only country in the world not to have done so... So, when General/Secretary Ross from where does the Secretary of State get law enforcement powers anyway? but I digress claps Clint, Sam, Scott and Wanda into jail, like, a week or so after the Accords have been signed, there is absolutely NO WAY they’ve been ratified and implemented into domestic US law. Which means, the Sokovia Accords have no legal effect on US Territory - or, likely, in any country on Earth, at the time they’re being applied. (This is exactly why I wrote “The Futurist”.)

TL/DR: The Sokovia Accords are, just like super-soldier serum and Tony Stark’s flying suit, complete and utter fiction, and Clint and the gang should really sue General Ross for unlawful imprisonment.

PS: Don’t get me started on throwaway lines like “Where’s von Strucker?” “NATO’s got him.”

#legal tumblr #Sokovia Accords #Marvel should hire me to give legal advice

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still-a-hetalian · 4 years

Text

Day 1: Flowers

Hello! This is my (super late) piece for @aphrarepairweek2020 ‘s event for Day 1: Flowers. This is the first chapter of what will be a multichapter fic with each chapter based on prompts from the event, starting from when they’re both kids up to modern day!

Pairing: Hungary/Ukraine

Word Count: ~2,000

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24851509/chapters/60118951

Part 2

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Spring is usually a good time for a beginning. The cold dead winter is over and the world slowly starts to thaw. Flowers push up through the soil and new life is born. It’s a good, solid metaphor for the start of something new. For the start of something that would span centuries. Through turmoil and peace, it would bring two women together to share a love that was something akin to magic – at least to people like them.

For those blessed – or cursed, depending on who you asked – to roam the earth representing their people through countless hardships, it was something special to feel such a bond with another like themselves.

This story begins with an eldest sister, a young warrior, and a handful of flowers.

13th Century AD

Ukraine was out in the forest collecting firewood when she heard a hustle of bushes from behind her. She held her breath, arms tightening around the wood, and preparing for the worst. She may not seem like much as her body was no older than a child’s, but being a nation, she’d learned plenty over the years protecting herself and her siblings from invaders.

Suddenly, someone charged through the trees and towards her, knocking her to the ground and her bundle of twigs and branches flying in all directions. The two of them scrambled around on the ground until Ukraine finally got the upper hand and sat on top of her attacker, pinning them to the ground.

That was when the two of them finally got a decent look at the other.

Looking down, Ukraine did not recognize the small, armored brunette staring up at her. And from the confusion on the other’s face, they didn’t recognize her as well.

“Hey! You’re not Russia!” the other said dismayed. This worried her, it seemed like every day that someone new tried to attack her little brother.

“No! I’m his sister,” Ukraine tried to seem intimidating, but that was never her strong suit. “Who are you and what do you want with my brother?”

“I’m Hungary! I’m your new enemy!”

The brunette seemed to try and puff up but chance of that was obliterated by the fact that this Hungary person was still pinned beneath her.

“Let me go at once! My friend Prussia will come looking for me and then you’ll really be in trouble.”

Ukraine had heard of this Prussia trying to attack her brother. He was serious business. Loud and as obnoxious, but still knew how to use a sword.

“Only if you leave my brother alone,” Ukraine relented, crossing her arms.

“UGH, FINE! Just let me go!” The other country beneath her tried to wriggle their arms free but couldn’t. “C’mon, lemme go I don’t need Prussia seeing me like this.”

Ukraine hesitated.

“And you have to say sorry.”

“What? Why,” the other pouted.

“Because I worked hard all-day gathering firewood and now it’s everywhere!”

“Fine! I’m sorry. Now let me go.”

Ukraine climbed off of the other and immediately Hungary sprang up and dusted themselves off. Ukraine heard someone calling off in the distance for the other nation.

“Well, that’s me. Catch you around, not-Russia!” the other child gave her a crooked grin and half a wave and ran off through the forest.

Ukraine just sighed and started gathering the scatter firewood. She knew there was no way this was going to be the last time she heard from the annoying other nation.

**********

And it wasn’t.

Or at least Ukraine was pretty sure it wasn’t.

Not at first though. When she first noticed the small bundle of wildflowers outside her tent, she thought maybe her brother or sister were just being nice. But when she asked them about the flowers later that afternoon, they didn’t know what she was talking about.

Ukraine just brushed it off, not really thinking about it.

Until a few days later when an even bigger bundle showed up outside her tent this time accompanied with a note:

Sorry for knocking you over the other day.

The handwriting was barely legible but it was obvious that it was from the nation that ran into her earlier that week. She couldn’t tell if this was some sort of veiled threat by showing up at their little campsite while they slept or if they were being sincere. She figured there was no point in worrying her siblings by telling them about it.

A week passed before she heard from the other again. Frankly, he’d almost forgotten about it, and figured the next time she’d see them would be on a battlefield or something.

But no, that wasn’t the case.

It was the day after she, Russia, and Belarus had spent the day wandering the forest in search of sunflowers. There was a farmer nearby that supposedly grew vast fields of them but their search came up fruitless. For siblings who fought about nearly everything else, the specialness of sunflowers was the one thing they all agreed on. And hunting for flowers was like a day off for them. Between fighting off invading nations and struggling to keep themselves well supplied, it was starting to take its toll. But summer was coming soon and she wanted to enjoy the warm sunlight while they had it.

There was a perfect dozen of them placed neatly outside her tent the next morning. Bound in twine and a vibrant black and yellow. These came with a note as well:

I heard you like sunflowers. Is it because they’re almost as pretty as you are?

Ukraine flushed a bright pink and shoved the note in her pocket before her siblings could wake up and see it. She wasn’t hiding it per se, but this was just for her.

Even though it was definitely a ploy to distract her from the fact that the nation had obviously been spying on her and her siblings. Watching them and waiting to attack.

That was it. She had to be more vigilant from now on.

Perhaps she would set up a watch. Wait for her new enemy to show up and attack while they didn’t expect it.

Over the next week she tried to stay up at late as she could. Putting off sleep in the small hours of the morning, in the hopes of catching the other nation in their own game.

She was able to stay up for the first couple days but the lack of sleep was getting to her and it became impossible stay awake and to still be useful enough that her siblings wouldn’t catch on.

She still didn’t tell them about the flowers.

She just didn’t want to worry them!

It had nothing to do with the previous note or the note that was left with the new bundle of flowers left outside sometime after she passed out, completely missing her chance to catch the other nation in the act.

I saw these and I thought of you.

She gently grabbed the small bundle of wild roses, careful of thorns, but she noticed that each of the thorns had been carefully sliced off. The tiny buds letting off a beautiful fragrance and she brought them to her face to smell.

She cradled them gently in her arms, careful not to crush them.

Any thoughts of espionage or surprise attacks, not even a thought in her mind as she tried to figure out the best way to press them so she could save them forever.

Then next week, Ukraine got up very early in the morning before anyone could possibly be awake and crept outside her tent. She stationed herself behind a nearby tree and thought that perhaps the chill of the morning would keep her awake enough to catch her not-so-secret admirer.

But of course, this didn’t work as the chorus of birds waking up in the forest became her lullaby and she soon drifted off back to sleep. She woke up an hour later with a chain of daisies around her head and another note in her lap.

You’re as sweet as a flower, and not a daisy goes by that I don’t think about you.

Ukraine gently touched the crown of flowers resting on her head.

She turned over the note to read what was on the back:

PS Prussia helped with this one. If it’s stupid, it’s his fault.

Ukraine couldn’t help the smile that lit up her face.

The next week, she finally had her victory.

The night before, she tied a thin rope from tree to tree surrounding her tent coming a half foot off the ground, hoping to trip up the sneaking nation and woken up from their fall.

And she was right.

Early in the morning, just as the sun was starting to rise Ukraine awoke to the sound of someone scrambling in the leaves and a soft oof.

She immediately crawled out of her tent and was met face to face with the strange nation she met in the woods. They just stared at each other for a moment. The other nation’s face glowing pink in the soft light as they scrambled to right themselves.

“I just –“ Hungary looked away shyly, and thrust out a bouquet of tulips at Ukraine. “I need to leave soon and go back to my country. I just wanted to give you something to remember me by. They’re my favorite.”

Ukraine reached out for them slowly. Almost afraid that moving too quickly would spook her new friend.

That was when she noticed the sloppy stiches embroidered on the hem of Hungary’s tunic. They were an attempt at the flowers she now held in her hands, along with birds and leaves and daisies – at least that was what she could make out.

When Hungary finally looked at her, she seemed to notice Ukraine looking at the needlework and blushed brightly.

“Prussia says it’s too girly,” Hungary said haughtily, breaking the silence. “But I told him that even though I’m a girl, I’m waaaay more manly than he is.”

Ukraine looked up at her.

“You’re a girl?” Ukraine asked but then winced at her bluntness. With the armor she’d just assumed…

“Yeah, totally. There’s no way a boy like that stupid, smelly Prussia could pick such pretty flowers,” Hungary started edging away, sounding uncertain. “You did like them, right?”

Ukraine could feel her cheeks heating as she remembered how much she loved the secret bouquets.

“Of course,” Ukraine smiled wide at the other girl, her face lighting up.

At that Hungary puffed up proud like a little rooster, with her hands on her hips and a toothy grin out in full force. Ukraine couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. Hungary seemed delighted.

The other girl grabbed her face in both hands and said:

“See? I knew you were prettier than a sunflower.”

And pecked Ukraine quickly on the lips before jumping over her string trap and dashing off back into the woods.

“We’ll see each other again one day!” Hungary called behind her. “Don’t forget me!”

Ukraine just stood there stunned, holding her tulips and lifted a hand to say goodbye.

Ukraine watched as the other girl disappeared into the woods until she heard a rustling behind her. Russia stumbled out of the tent panicked, half dressed in armor and barely awake.

“Are we under attack?” He mumbled. She looked at his rumpled state and waved him back to bed.

“Go back to sleep, Russia. They just wanted to say goodbye.”

He looked at her puzzled, but did as she said and stumbled back inside.

That was the last Ukraine saw of Hungary for quite a while. Sure, there were times when she and her siblings would hear of the other nation, or run skirmishes, as bordering nations often did. But there was never any time where Ukraine would catch more than a glance at the other woman for centuries. Time went on until the pressed flowers Ukraine kept hidden were the only reminder that it ever happened at all.

#hetalia #aphrarepairweek2020 #hunukr #aph ukraine #APH Hungary #ukrhun #hws ukraine #hws hungary #aph femslash #my fics #my works #i can never remember which tag I used #hope you enjoy it and lemme know what you think!

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beckzorz · 5 years

Text

The Sound of You (one-shot)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Words: 2677 Summary: After a mission gone wrong, you need to let out some steam. Tags/Warnings: Hurt/comfort, SMUT, NSFW, 18+!!! A/N: This is the final post for Fictive February, which has been a wild ride. Thanks for coming. <3 Thank you so much to @moonbeambucky for the prompt (Bucky catches reader singing and she’s embarrassed ☺️), which maybe I didn’t stick entirely to, but OH WELL! Thank you so much also to @goodusernamesarealwaystaken for swooping to the rescue and beta reading! And uh... this is my first attempt at full-on smut so... go easy on me XD

Thwack.

The punching bag shudders from your first punch. Tears prick at your eyes, and you growl and swipe them away.

Thwack.

Twenty-three hours, and all you can think about is your stunning failure in Belarus. One missed shot had cost four civilian lives, one of them a toddler, two others under thirty. Tomorrow there will be hell to pay and reports to write, but Steve had sent everyone off for the night after the midnight landing at the compound.

As soon as the bay doors open, you’d stalked off to the gym. There’s no way you can sleep the way you are, and at midnight after a grueling mission, you can be sure of having the gym to yourself.

You can scream in peace.

Thwack.

You catch the bag against your body, letting the impact shake you to the core. The tremor echoes through you, just like the tremor of the explosion in Mazyr.

You slide to the floor against the heavy bag. Hot tears roll down your cheeks; you bang your forehead against the rough polyester with a whimper.

Thwack.

You’re all alone, and you can cry in peace.

You don’t know how long you sob into the punching bag, but by the time you’re done, the bag is stained with the tracks of your tears. Your muscles are still sore from the mission. You’d been too tense to stretch properly on the flight home; all you’d done was sit stiffly in a window seat, your headphones and scowl the perfect deterrents to anyone who might have wanted to approach.

At this point, you’re too tired to even try stretching. All you want to do is wash off the grime of failure.

You groan as you peel off your uniform in the privacy of one of the shower stalls. The fabric clings unpleasantly to your skin. By the time you’re bare, you’re sniffling again.

The hot water is just the sting you need. The steam caresses your face. It’s the closest you can get to comfort; it’s the closest you’ll let yourself get to comfort.

After your failure, after what you caused—

The memory of the splintered bricks and bodies flashes in your mind. You shake your head.

You don’t deserve the comfort of your friends and their words. You don’t deserve the comfort of your lover and his touch. Either would soothe you. Natasha, Rhodey, Sam—any of them would know just what to say. Bucky…

You press the heels of your hands against your eyes, hard enough to hurt. No. You don’t deserve any of it.

All you’ll permit yourself is a hot shower and the quiet refrain of the one song that always soothes you. It’s just a temporary reprieve; you’ll remind yourself of what you’ve done later.

In bed, when you crave sleep, no doubt.

Your voice echoes off the tile walls, small in the wide space. Gentle words, words you learned from your grandmother so many years ago. When you sing it, you can see her face.

In your mind’s eye, she’s smiling at you, her gaze heavy with love. Heavy with forgiveness.

Fresh tears leak from your closed eyes. You can hear the tremor in your voice, but you carry on through it. Here, alone, you can find some modicum of relief.

The final echo fades. You hold yourself tight and try to clear your head. If Steve sees you’ve been crying, in person or on the surveillance cameras…

You don’t want to be benched. You don’t deserve to be benched. The best punishment is out there, in the field, where you can be hurt—

“I didn’t know you could sing.”

You gasp and spin, sliding on the wet tiles. You throw out your hands to steady yourself, but Bucky catches you in his solid hold. He’s as naked as you are, but his body, cool to the touch, is no distraction after the shock of his arrival.

Dread coils in the pit of your stomach. He heard you? You’ve always kept that secret for yourself, after so many others were forced out of you thanks to the job. Every slice of yourself has been examined. This one thing is your own. To have it discovered?

It hurts.

Your face burns as you extricate yourself from Bucky’s hold and shuffle back under the water, turning aside and folding your arms over your chest. His soft gaze is too much; how can he look at you that way after what you’ve done? You can’t bear his eyes on you. Not now. You can’t bear to look at him. Who are you to drink him in?

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Bucky steps under the water; you step back. The faucet digs into your side. You let it. The discomfort is what you deserve.

But Bucky gently pulls you against him. You stiffen automatically and try to push him away. He doesn’t let go.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. He strokes your hair and presses a kiss to your temple. “It’s okay.”

However much you resist, Bucky’s destined to wear you down. He always does. What’s the point of fighting?

You close your eyes, let your tension seep away, and focus on his body against yours. His metal arm warms quickly under the hot water. The rest of him does too. You bury your face in the crook of his neck. With every breath, his heady scent fills your head, leaving you hazy. Your hands creep around his waist and press flat against the planes of his back.

How did he know to find you? You haven’t been sleeping together long—hell, you’ve only been attached to the team for a couple of months. You know Natasha from her SHIELD days, and Sam and Rhodey are friendly as anything, but Bucky was a hard nut to crack. Yet within weeks, he’d sought you out in solitary moments, his hands always finding their way to you.

Like you’re a homing beacon.

And now, it’s just the same. But he hadn’t approached you with lust in his eyes. No, his look had been all soft, all concern, all care. None of the desperate desire that you’d come to expect. Just gentleness and a warm embrace.

How did he know this was just what you needed? The guilt and the grief were gone.

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes. He’s tall enough that his face isn’t in the shower spray; his eyes are still soft. He flashes a tiny smile and pushes your wet hair back from your forehead.

“Better?” he asks.

You nod and lean back into him. This time, you let your hands slide down to the small of his back, then a little lower. You’re not so tired now.

Bucky hums in the back of his throat, questioning. You press tighter against him, the slick friction on your front sending sparks through you. Heat pools in your belly, your breasts, tight and wanting.

The shower is steamy in a whole new way.

You press kisses along his shoulder until your lips find the pulse point at his neck. You suck a mark into his skin. It’ll be gone by morning, but for now there’s no hiding your imprint.

With a growl, Bucky hooks his metal hand around the top of your thigh and hoists you up against the wall. The breath is knocked out of you. Bucky’s eyes are dark and wild, nothing like the softness of minutes before.

You wrap your legs around his waist. Bucky shoves his other hand between your legs, teasing your clit. Sparks dance through you.

“Bucky,” you moan.

You tangle your fingers in his wet hair, anything to ground yourself against the euphoria building in your core.

When his fingers curl inside you, you cry out and rock down into his touch. He’s hard between your legs, faster than you would have thought possible if you hadn’t done this all before. But like every other time, he’s as eager as you.

You force your eyes open and stare at him, panting. His breathing is as ragged as yours, though you’ve barely begun. With every thrust and curl of his fingers, you lose a little more of yourself in his eyes.

When he pulls his hand away, you mewl in discontent.

Bucky chuckles. “Not yet, doll.” He pushes his wet fingers into your mouth, his eyes fixed on your lips. You suck hard and swirl your tongue around his fingertips, mimicking what you’ve done a dozen times to his cock.

And he knows it.

Bucky slams his hand onto the wall by your head and thrusts into you with his usual precision. His bruising kiss eats up your desperate cry. Your eyes flutter shut as you match his hunger with your own, teeth clicking as he snaps his hips into yours.

Your muscles burn anew as Bucky sets a grueling pace. With every thrust, he grunts; his groin grinds against your clit. His metal hand digs into the tender flesh of your thigh. The tiles catch on your spine as you slip up and down the wall. You barely notice. All you can think of is Bucky inside you, Bucky at your lips, Bucky in your hands.

He pulls back from the kiss, but he doesn’t let up his pace. With the little distance between you, your breasts bounce in time with his thrusts. He grabs one and tweaks the nipple, pulling a whimper from you.

His eyes smolder when you finally open your eyes again. “Sing for me,” he rasps.

Your breath catches.

Sing for him?

Unbidden, you tense. Bucky slows to a stop with his cock buried inside you. He reaches out and shuts off the shower. Then he lifts you off of him and sets you on the floor.

Your knees buckle—did he seriously expect you to stand?—and you catch yourself against the wall. The sudden emptiness leaves you aching, and not just physically.

You slide to the floor and look up at Bucky. He’s still hard, his cock red and glistening. But he drops to his knees in front of you, blinking away the animalistic expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I—” You clear your throat. Does he really need to talk now? You fight the urge to touch him, or yourself. “I don’t sing.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “You were singing before.”

You scrub your hands down your face. “I don’t—I only sing for myself. You weren’t supposed to… It’s not for…” You slap the floor and glare at him, angry at him for your incoherence. “It’s all I have left. You can’t have it.”

“But I want—” Bucky stops himself when you look away. He scoots closer and cradles your face; you look back at him. There’s a sadness there, one you weren’t expecting. “Okay. No singing.”

You open your mouth to question him, but he quiets you with a kiss. Unlike before, he’s all gentleness. His lips soft as they tease your mouth open.

He breathes life back into you.

In heartbeats, you’re as desperate as before. You push Bucky until he falls back. He grips your hips as you crawl over him. You slide your fingers through your folds and along your clit—yes, you’re still ready—before aligning yourself with his cock. For a moment, you just rub the head against your entrance, teasing. When Bucky growls, his eyes dark with warning, you laugh breathlessly and sink down in a single movement.

Your laugh short-circuits into a loud moan.

“God, so good,” Bucky groans. His metal hand cups your right breast; his other hand is digging finger-shaped bruises into your hip, but you couldn’t care less. You rock down on him, barely moving, but it’s enough to stutter your breathing. When you finally start to ride on him, you plant your hands on his chest and gaze hungrily into his eyes as you moan. He snaps his hips up to meet yours, teeth bared.

“Shit,” you gasp, arching your back. Every slam of his hips sends a jolt of fire straight through your clit. His cock hits every sensitive spot inside you. “Yes, god, yes, Bucky…”

Your face screws up. Shockwaves build in you as you fuck him faster. You press your forehead against Bucky’s shoulder and drag your teeth along his collarbone.

Bucky slows, the disjointed rhythm an unwelcome change. “Let me—fuck—let me look at you,” he begs. He kisses your temple, squeezes your breasts, pushes you up off of him. You still yourself and pout. He groans, eyes bright with—tears? “Please, fuck, fuck me, c’mon, don’t hide from me, doll.”

A rush of heat floods you as you stare down at him, panting. Bucky’s never been this needy before. Desperate for your body, sure, but begging to look at your face?

That’s new. And god help you, but you’re ruined by it.

Slowly, you start to rock back on him. Your nails dig indents into his chest. There’s something different in the air, something charged. Bucky starts thrusting up into you, his right hand slipping down your front to circle your clit.

“Yesss,” you moan. Your eyes almost slide shut, but you snap them back open at the last second. Fire lances through you with every thrust. Every gasping breath is an effort. All you want to do is cum with him. You cup his hand at your clit and push his hand harder against you.

Bucky’s eyes are black and his jaw is clenched tight. His eyelids are fluttering as much as yours, but he keeps them forced open. He keeps his eyes on you.

“Don’t—look—away,” he growls. He pinches your clit and your nipple at the same time and speeds his upward thrusts.

You clench your teeth, vision spotting and your walls clenching hard around him. You can’t move anymore; all you can do is hold yourself up and let him destroy you from the inside out.

Bucky’s thrusts grow sloppy. His hips snap into yours one final time before his cock twitches, warmth blossoming in you as his pulsing pushes you over the edge. You collapse against him with a scream, stars blinding you as you dissolve into pleasure.

You come back to yourself slowly. Bucky’s arms are around you, his softening cock still inside you. His shaky breaths fan your temple. All of your muscles are lax. The wet tiles are cool against your knees; you hook your legs over Bucky’s warmer ones.

The thought of leaving your spot makes you grimace. You burrow further into Bucky’s shoulder. He strokes your hair, and his lips curve into a smile against your temple.

You prop yourself up with an elbow on his chest and gaze at him. His smile dims under your scrutiny.

“What?” he asks, metal hand cupping your cheek.

You shake your head and drop back down. “Nothing, Bucky.” His name is strange in your mouth.

Bucky makes a noise. It’s clear he doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t press. All he does is hold you closer. He’s always like this, for some time after, but today it feels strange.

Too much today has gone wrong. You push away the memories of the mission and focus on Bucky. You haven’t forgotten what he said. He wants something from you, but he’d stopped himself.

You’d always thought you were equally satisfied with the strings-free sex—he’s your lover, not your boyfriend, after all—but between that aborted sentence and the begging to watch you…

It’s not safe to discuss while you’re still half-dazed.

Eventually, you disentangle from each other. Bucky helps you to your feet, and you dry yourselves off without touching. Bucky’s eyes linger on you; you look away. Watching him, half-naked as he is, is too tempting right now. It’s not safe. You pull on the spare set of clothes in your locker, muscles burning with every movement.

“Later, Bucky.”

You leave him alone in the showers, not daring to look back.

His name is strange in your mouth. Tomorrow, maybe, you’ll find out why.

#bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #becca writes #fictive february

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neoarchipelago · 5 years

Text

Bridegroom's oak tree (John wick x reader part two)

A/N: here's the final part! This was long and complicated guys but hey ! Hope you guys enjoy it.

Request by: @cynic-spirit (request in the first part)

Part one

Word count : 3 983

Warnings: blood?

___________

John arrived home, dropping his jacket on the couch. He reached for the bar, and served himself a glass of bourbon. He sipped on his cup thinking about the letter. Should he read it? Should he open up a past hope that he had long ago buried away? The cup in his hand he walked up the stairs to his office. He walked in, closing the door behind him, and sat down on his leather office chair. He sipped on his cup again. Looking down at the letter on his desk. He sighed, putting down his cup, and finally holding up the letter into his hand.

He finally decided himself and opened the letter. He read it, a small smile on his lips. Klaus had kept his word until the last day on the job. He had sent him the letter that finally answered his and another one telling him his goodbyes, wishing him as much happiness as he had since John had helped him. He had, in post scriptum, told him that the beautiful lady who answered him also lived in New York and that the tree had finally worked his full magic. John smirked, and started to read the other letter, in a beautiful black lettering. It was clean, perfectly written, in a very poetic style. His eyes scanned the letter a few times before looking at the signature.

(Y/n) (y/l/n). The name sounded sweet. He thought for a minute about his next move. This woman had recently answered him, she must be interested. But was John as interested as before? Was he willing to go look for this girl, and how would things go? After all his life had changed and the risk of having someone in your life was even bigger than before. He had been willing to fall for someone before, taking all the chances he had and protect the woman who was willing to share his life. His life had already been dangerous but he was the Baba yaga. John leaned back on his chair and thought for a minute.

His curiosity was killing him, he felt like he needed to at least see the girl who had picked his letter. All he needed, was to find a girl with that name in New York. It shouldn't be too hard after all for the Mafia's Boss.

________

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. You felt lost in this man's eyes and the way he looked at you. He seemed to look through you, a protective look on his face yet severe.

"It's me." He said in a smirk.

He seemed older than you, but it only made him even more attractive. His cologne made you want to let yourself drop into his arms, and you mentally cursed at your weakness. After all you didn't even know that man!

"I-I..I didn't think anyone… would answer actually." You said shyly, trying to control your heart rate.

"Me neither to be honest." He spoke, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

Curiosity peaked, however, at his words. You looked at him with a confused look.

"Why wouldn't anyone answer your letter? It was beautiful, and perfectly witten." You said, your shyness flying away.

___________

John had finally been able to find the woman who had wrote him a letter. He has sent his men through New York and ordered them to find her, but in total discretion. She had been the most wanted girl in town for 24 h before John had finally found her. She was a teacher in a suburban high school and he had access to her work application. The picture made him smile, he had seen beautiful woman who had tried real hard to become pretty but this woman looked like a goddess effortlessly. Had he been this lucky?

John had been awake throughout the following night, pacing back and forth in his house. Was he to just go see her? Was she sincere in the letter, and would she be interested in him? How would she react to him being a mafia lord? No. This was much further into the future. No point in thinking about it so soon. John made up his mind as the hour of sunrise came near. He was going to go see her.

It had been exactly what he'd done. The next day he decided to show up at her school and talk to her. He waited for the classes to be over before going to her classroom. He froze at the entrance as he reached the open door. You were there, softly singing a tune, swaying your hips as you walked in between the desks. When he had knocked on the door and saw the shocked look on your face he felt guilty to interrupt such a peaceful moment. He was rewarded by your beautiful (e/c) eyes staring at him and then looking away as you blushed.

Maybe was it that attraction a predator had towards his prey that made him walk forward as you both spoke a few words. Watching intensely as he could feel your shyness but also your curiosity towards him. The kind smile you harboured made him want to do anything so it would never go away. John felt attracted to you, feeling some weird need to wrap his arms around you and keep you safe. And then you had questioned him. He thought your confused expression was absolutely adorable as you asked him why didn't he thought his letter would be answered. As you complimented it.

"How about I tell you, as we get coffee?" He asked.

He worried to have gone too fast as you quickly looked panicked, but quickly relaxed at your answer with a soft smile.

"Oh yes! I just have to quickly grab all those tests and get my things, I apologise i'll be quick!" You had said in a hurried voice, already running around trying to grab all the papers.

John smirked at you as he watched your body sway through the classroom, patiently waiting.

____________

You were getting ready for dinner, spinning around in front of your bedroom mirror. You and John had been seeing each other for four weeks now, you had exchanged numbers and talked almost all day long. You were delighted to find out your common love for books and dogs. John was such a gentleman with you. The thought made you blush. You remembered your first coffee and diner, the way he looked at you protectively, as if you were the most precious thing he had. You liked the way he looked serious yet had such a great humour. It was impossible to deny the attraction you felt towards him, physically and mentally.

You smoothed out your little red dress that almost reached your knees, and took a last glance at the mirror before walking out of your room. You took your phone and smiled at John's text. He was already waiting for you downstairs. You hurried up, grabbing your bag on the way out. You walked down the stairs of your apartment building, a small smile on your lips. You felt lucky to find a man like John, who you enjoyed spending time with and felt connected to.

You reached the door and pulled it open, revealing your prince charming and his mustang. But this time was different. You watched as John was on the phone, clearly looking angry. He was speaking in what you assumed was Russian, since he told you that he came from Belarus. You slowly walked up to him, leaving a certain space between you two, allowing him to keep a bit of privacy. You had already seen John angry when he sometimes talked about his business which you still didn't really know about. But this time he looked furious, almost, murderous.

You watched him pace slowly next to his car as he spoke darkly into the phone. It should have scared you, the way he looked so dangerous, but a small shiver ran down your spine and all you wanted was to jump into his arms. Yes, you were intoxicated, the man had you wrapped around his little finger.

Your breath hitched as he suddenly stopped in front of you, looking at you with the darkest gaze you ever seen him give you. You felt captivated by his eyes, like a doe in front of headlights. His dark voice still angrily spoke in russian but this time with a much deeper tone. The frown he harboured made you want to run to him but you were frozen in place.

He finally hung up, his eyes never leaving you. He walked up to you slowly as you swallowed hard, looking up at him.

"Is there something wrong John?" You asked in a small worried voice.

He sighed looking at you, and shook his head. His arms wrapped themselves around you, pulling you in. You gladly accepted the embrace you had been craving as you close your eyes, letting your hands rest on his chest. You felt him press his lips on top of your head as you hummed his cologne, feeling safer than ever in the man's powerful arms.

"Nothing darling. Just work." John's raspy voice rang, as you felt the vibrations in his chest.

He pulled away, a small smirk on his lips as you smiled brightly at him. His eyes roamed over you and you could see his gaze shift to a much darker one. You felt your temperature rise just from the look he gave you. He opened the passenger door of his car, his arm still around your waist protectively. His eyes never left you as you sat down on the seat and he walked to the other side of the car, sitting in the driver's seat.

You were headed to a restaurant John had chosen for you tonight. You had ended up taking turns in choosing your next dinner, coffee or date location but John had called you this morning, apologising, and asking you to let him choose a place this one time. You had complied not really minding, after all, all you wanted was to see John.

"I'm sorry you had to see this (y/n), I… hope I didn't scare you." John said, making you look at him.

He kept his eyes on the road, but let his hand reach yours. You squeezed it softly reassuring him.

"It's perfectly fine. I'm not scared of you John." You said in a soft tone.

You could almost see his body lose some tension as your words reached him. Why would you be afraid of him? That was such a silly thought. Well John was maybe a scary looking man, but you did not feel scared of him one second. You watched the landscape as he retrieved his hand. Something felt off tonight. John was tensed, clearly angry at something, but you figured it out it couldn't be against you since every time his eyes fell on you his expression softened.

You finally reached your location, a beautiful fancy restaurant. It was crowded, another thing that surprised you since John didn't really like crowded places. While you were lost in thoughts John had already reached your side and opened the car door for you. You stepped out, being careful not to trip with your black heels. You immediately felt John's arm around your waist again. Yes something was off. He had always been protective of you as if he was afraid something would make you vanish at any moment, but tonight he didn't even try to hide it.

You still leaned into him walking inside the restaurant. The place was beautiful, soft classical music played in the back and everything looked… expensive. You reached the entrance and the waiter smiled at you two.

"Mr Wick, please follow me to your table." The man said.

You walked behind the waiter, intertwining your fingers with John's, trying to relieve some of the tension you could still feel. You finally reached a table, in the back of the restaurant, further away from any other table. It was set for two, and was clearly big enough for six. You notice the two chairs had been placed close to each other instead of in front of each other.

You walked to your seat, John helping you with your chair as you whispered a small 'thank you' while furiously blushing. The waiter didn't wait long to leave, leaving you and John alone at the table. You could still see something was bothering him, and you could keep it together anymore.

"John…" you called softly.

He turned to you, looking at you intensely. Even if his expression softened, he still looked worried.

"What's going on?" You whispered, knowing he heard you clearly.

He took a sharp breath looking around first before letting his eyes fall on you again, his eyes locking with yours.

"Look… (y/n)... I need to ask you something very important. It might sound extremely weird though." He spoke, his voice low and deep, making you lean closer to him.

"Ask me then." You answered in a playful tone, trying to light up the mood.

John smirked at you for a second before his serious expression fell back into place.

"I want to take you home tonight." He said, looking directly into your eyes.

You stared at him, feeling yourself blush at the idea. You were unable to say anything for a few seconds, your mind racing over the idea and possibilities.

"I just need you to stay at my house tonight. You don't have to sleep with me. Just… come home with me tonight." John spoke quickly again.

Now confusion settled in. He wasn't trying to move your relationship to a new level he was trying to keep an eye on you. You didn't feel angry at him, simply confused.

"But… why?" You asked, frowning a bit.

John sighed again.

"It's.. complicated. I swear I'll explain everything tomorrow… but please. I promise I won't force myself onto yo-"

"I know you won't John!" You interrupted him.

He looked taken aback but didn't say anything. He simply looked at you, a small pleading look on his face.

"(y/n) please…"

You had never seen him like this. You wanted to know more, the truth, but you felt like you needed to accept the offer to reach that. You still tried one last time to make him speak.

"Are you trying to protect me?" You asked, a small worried look on your face that made John slightly panic.

Of course he was. His reaction had told you everything you needed to know. You knew his business wasn't safe. Many times you had met and he had been hurt, cuts bruises and sometimes worse. He always played it off, joking about them, saying he took part in some sports combats. You clearly knew he lied to you, trying not to scare you. There was something more and the fear of discovering it was nothing compared to the fear of not knowing.

"You are, aren't you?" You said again, in a lower voice, now clearly worried, not for you, but for John's safety.

He had seemed to deal with a lot while he didn't took care of you and now he wanted to protect you too. You felt like you were a bother to him, risking his own safety because he wanted to take care of you.

"Hey…(y/n) don't be scared, I'm not letting anyone touch you." John was now serious, his murderous gaze back again as he held your hand.

"What about you John? I'm worried about you…" you whispered again, looking at him directly.

He smiled, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your fingers.

"Don't worry about me darling. Just please, stay home with me tonight." He said in a softer tone.

You quickly nodded breathing in and out, trying to control your anxiety.

"Alright. I'll go with you. Can we just stop at my house to grab some stuff?" You asked, glad that there wasn't school for the next two days.

John nodded while smirking at you. You finally saw him relax, and you did the same, finally being able to let go completely. There was still a lot to talk about, but you were patient, you'd wait. As long as you were both safe. However even if the night played on a bit more peacefully than it had started, something still felt off. A gut feeling perhaps that you should have listened to.

Dinner went on smoothly, the conversation falling back smoothly in between you two. You had to be honest with yourself, you felt excited and relieved to be spending the night at John's house.

When you finally walked out of the restaurant the night breeze made you shiver. You were glad that you were stopping at your house before going home with John. You mentally scolded yourself for not bringing a jacket with you.

The ride home was joyful. You and John talking about everything and anything, you playfully asking him to watch a movie with him tonight, as if it were a mere sleepover. John parked in front of your building, and just as fast as you had forgotten about it, the odd feeling came back. You felt something was off again. You both stepped out of the car, as you tried to push away that feeling, thinking about how silly you were acting.

"I'm coming up with you (y/n)." John spoke behind you.

You nodded, not wanting to discuss this, feeling like you would have asked him to come in anyway if he didn't propose.

John walked closely behind you as you two walked up the stairs to your apartment. The feeling grew as you got closer and closer to your apartment. Maybe was it because John was with you? You shrugged it off again. Turning the key to open the door made your heart race, and you felt silly for feeling so nervous. You opened the door to a perfectly normal and peaceful apartment, exactly as you left it a few hours earlier. You sighed smiling up at John.

"Make yourself comfortable I'll try to be quick" you said with a smile.

John smiled back at you as he stood by the door. You quickly glanced back to your closed bedroom door, where you had to pick up some clothes. And then you froze. Closed? You hadn't closed your door before leaving your apartment. You never did. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you quickly spun around a panicked look on your face. John immediately noticed, and his face instantly changed. You slowly walked to your small kitchen table as you spoke, trying to keep your voice from shaking as the tears already stung your eyes.

"Oh by the way, let me make you coffee first!" You said, surprised you managed to sound happy.

As you started a John and John back at you you grabbed a pencil and some sticky notes you were thankful for forgetting on the kitchen table. You quickly wrote something, as John walked up to you.

"Alright then, black with no sugar."

John's voice was perfectly normal, a total contrast to his expression and attitude. The way he quickly picked up on the fact you two couldn't say anything suspicious only reassured the idea that his job wasn't so normal. He took the note in his hand and his expression changed one last time. The look he gave you made you shiver. It was terrifying. He looked around quickly before handing you back the note, while mouthing 'bathroom, lock yourself' to you. You nodded feeling utterly panicked as you walked to the bathroom as silently as you could. You heard John turn on your coffee machine behind you as you entered the room and locked the bathroom door. You were trying to keep your breathing down as you looked down at the note.

'my bedroom door wasn't closed'

You jumped as you heard the sound of things breaking. You took off your heels, and tried to stay as quiet as possible. You heard your front door open notifying you that more people were coming in and your blood ran cold. Your first thought was on John. You were petrified, unable to help him even if you wanted to. You managed to keep a bit of self control remembering how many times you've seen John all messed up but alive. You'd never thought you'd hope that the man you had fallen in love with, because yes you loved John, turned out to be a cold blooded killer, but right now that's all you hoped. You wanted him alive and safe.

When gunshots ran through the apartment you let yourself fall down to your feet, finally letting your tears roam free. You still did everything to stay quite as you silently cried. It all suddenly stopped. You couldn't hear anything anymore but your heart pounding loudly in your ears. Your lungs burnt from the silent tears and the panic. You held your breath as you heard someone walk up to the bathroom door.

"(y/n), it's me, please open the door."

You let out a shaky breath as you heard John's voice through the door. You quickly stood and opened the door. You froze looking up at him. He was covered in blood and even if you hoped it wasn't his you still felt your stomach turn at the sight. You must have looked panicked again because he tried to soothe you.

"Please.. darl-…(y/n), don't be afraid of me… I'll never hurt you." He spoke clearly sounding worried too.

You stepped aside letting him walk into the room. He walked in making sure not to open the door too much and closing back behind so you wouldn't have to witness anything at all. He still stood by the door however, not trying to reach up to you.

"Are you going to tell me?" You asked your voice shaking from the tears.

It clearly broke John to see you like this, and you knew you weren't afraid of him, you weren't angry at him. You just needed the truth.

"I'm the head of the mafia (y/n). Those man learned about you… about… what I felt for you and… you became a target."

You finally understood the recent events as he spoke.

"I tried to keep you safe, you're everything to me… I'm sorry, I told you they wouldn't touch you." John sighed closing his eyes tiredly before opening them again.

You were trying to process everything, of course you had been suspicious of something like this. You were surprised to felt fine towards the revelation. Actually at the moment you only felt relieved that John stood there alive.

"They didn't touch me John." Your voice sounded a bit calmer as you tried to speak.

He looked up at you, a bit of hope in his eyes.

"How do you feel about me then John?" You whispered looking at him.

His eyes stared into yours as his deep voice let you hear the only words you needed to hear.

"I love you."

You threw yourself at him, kissing him deeply. The taste of his tongue making you melt, his strong arms around you making you feel safe. You only pulled away to whisper the only words he needed to hear.

"I love you too. Don't you dare let me go John."

John groaned as he spoke again, his dark eyes staring into your (e/c) colored ones.

"No fuckin way. You're mine nobody's laying a finger on you baby girl."

You let yourself go entirely, you felt safe. Your thoughts wandered back to the Bridegroom's oak tree and you smiled. It must have been magic.

____

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