rogueann​:

“oh don’t worry– she pisses me off too, i just make fun of it.” she said with a slyly giggle. she knows it means but sometimes those things makes her laugh a little bit. “yeah sure, give me your phone.” she hands her hand over to james.

“we should make a club.   the anti-sandra club.   we could get matching jackets.”   he’s quick to pass it over,  peering at her actions in an attempt to commit her actions to memory.   and maybe he can’t help but ask a stupid question or two.   “not that i think we should try it out but i’m curious;   does your ability only work on skin?   or if i touched you with the arm,  would it recognize it as part of me?   or would it mistake it for like... a toaster?   rogue,  am i a toaster to you?”

agentcarter​:

a frown covered her face as she listened to bucky talk for far too long. what was he even talking about? after a moment, she looked at him quietly, her eyes narrowed a little. “what the hell are you talking about? how are you not going to say the internet is the best modern invention?” she asked. “you need better things to do with your time.”

maybe he should just be grateful that sharon listened to him—  she definitely had better things to do.   “name one good think about the internet.   one of the little shield interns showed me  thirst tiktoks  and if i’m honest,  i think the torture sessions were worse.”   overly dramatic  &  layered with sarcasm,  he can barely hold back a laugh,  “i do plenty of better things with my time like...  —   reading.   gotta catch up on all the books i missed.   actually on that note:   can you explain to me why they made three hobbit films?   they didn’t need that many.”

chairdood​:

yes, peter has mentioned that barnes could be scary. however, ned is simply fearless when it came to the topic of invention. and kitchen implements. there’s just profound confidence with ned when it came to it. “what about swiss army knives versus splayds? what are your thoughts on that?”

“you.   i like the way you think.”   it’s frankly a 50/50 shot of if bucky listens to things peter has said.   and maybe he’s grateful that for once,  he listened.   because ned leeds?   big fan.   “i’m not going to eat with a swiss army knife— i mean,  i could.   i have.   weird time.   but in terms of practicality?   amazing.   great invention.   screwdriver,  knife,  bottle opener...  plyers?   all in one?   amazing.   incredible.   oh,  if you want some good advice:  don’t get them engraved.   when you wash them,  you can’t properly clean them properly and then the engraving gets rusted and you ruin the whole thing.   i’m starting to see why peter talks about you so much—  you’re kinda cool.   got any cool inventions?   or invention suggestions?”

hamdashi​:

“isn’t that just a swiss army knife, but for culinary purposes?” tadashi rattles his brain for more knowledge that he might have of this … splayd .. but comes up empty and he shrugs. “well, it definitely has more practical usage, being related to food. i would agree with you on that end, then. you seem .. passionate about it, too.”

there’s a very long pause—  processing the concept of a culinary swiss army knife.   “now that you’ve said it— absolutely yes.   how did i not think of that?   you are a genius.”   this has quickly become the most interesting conversation he’s had all week.   “i mean you could eat food with a swiss army knife.   you’d have to be a little desperate and also a little weird because i’d just use my hands but i think it could be done.   & you gotta be passionate about something!   i think a good knife is interesting.   you—  what are you passionate about?   got any interesting thoughts to share?”

redwingwilson​:

“yeah, i’m really starting to regret asking your sad ass over,” sam says. “plus, the spork is like, objectively better. or is it some kind of masochist kink of yours to try not to stab your cheeks every time you use one of those things? honestly, with all the knives you cart around with i’m sure you can use one in a pinch along with the proper combination utensil, the spork.”

“you say that every time i come over.   it’s always  ‘come over’  and then  ‘why did i invite you’  on repeat forever.   get a new line,  wilson.”   it’s an unrealistic argument,  one that defines their friendship.   he rolls his eyes,  preparing to continue the ridiculous point he’s failing to make,   “am i meant to eat with a normal fork and a bayonet knife?   almost all the cutlery i own is plastic anyways— that would just be weird.   just because i put a knife in the dishwasher one time doesn’t mean i’m using it for normal purposes.   besides,  it was a sheepsfoot blade—  i’m at least sixty percent sure you can put those in the dishwasher.   and just because you heal like a normal person,  doesn’t mean i do.   maybe i do sometimes cut my mouth with a splayd— which also,  even if it was a kink,  i would not discuss it with you—  it isn’t a problem because i heal like a cool person.   you just...  suffer for days with a mouth bite,  i assume.”

wrmchne​:

“  oh  ,  you poor man  .  ”  rhodey says  .  “  who told you facebook was one of the best inventions of the modern era  ?  that’s the biggest lie i’ve ever heard  .  ”  he’s never been a social media person full-stop  ,  but  —  well  ,  the only things he knows about web design are from osmosis  ,  and even he can tell the ui is shit  .  “  but also  ,  splayds aren’t that great  .  a classic case of trying to do too much with not enough space  —  they’ve got nothing on those chopsticks that turn into a fork and knife by changing what’s stuck to the end  .  ”

“in my defense—   it was  stark  who said it.   and now having said that aloud,  i’m starting to think it  might  have been on purpose.”   if the ever-present  petty revenge  for the brutal murder of his parents is  tricking  barnes into thinking facebook is the best thing in the world—  he can live with that.   as embarrassing as it is.   “i’ve never had a sentence take me on such a rollercoaster.   i’m a little mad about the splayd insult but i am far too intrigued by these magical chopsticks.   do you twist the chopstick and the fork comes out?   or do you swap the head in and out?   i have questions.   also—  where do i buy them?   i need them.”

bettyonair​:

“is this like an ad for splayds? are you their spokesperson or something, because you’re kinda doing a good job. personally, i’ve been more of a spork kinda gal but you make a compelling argument. though, i think the best modern invention are cotton candy grapes.” betty plucked a grape out of the box and held it between her fingers, carefully examining it like it was a precious jewel before popping it into her mouth. “like how is it possible for something that tastes so good be actually be healthy? that just blows my mind.”

“i mean,  i’m not but good to know i have future career options in splayd selling.   do you think i could find a company that sells splayds and ask to be their spokesperson?   bucky barnes— splayd seller!”   he eyes up the grape with a suspicious nature—  if you’re going to poison something,  why a grape?   fuck it.   grape in the mouth.   followed by several other grapes.   if they are poisoned:   hell of a way to go.   he’ll die happy.   “if i have a career in splayd selling— you have one in selling these.   follow up question:   who invented these and where do i thank them?   i think my life just changed.   i think you just changed my life.”

rogueann​:

rogue sat back on her chair and nodded. “ well if you don’t like some things you just don’t follow them on social media, you can just follow the things you enjoy knowing about. don’t have to be bitter ‘bout sandra’s brunch.” 

his arms fold,  a friendly scowl on his cheeks,   “i’m going to lock you in a room with sandra and then you’ll see just how annoying she is — but, uh...   that’s not a bad idea.   except for the part where i don’t know how to unfollow people.   one of the interns at s.h.i.e.l.d.  made  my account  &  followed a pile of people...   &  i have no idea how to actually use it.   any chance you know know how to use instagram?”

buryeden​:

“Oh, no, it was the front door,” Niko says, a furrow of his brow that innocently corrected the detail as though it was something so simple. The lightness of it was mocking, down to the genuine crinkle of his nose. Its intention would only be masked to someone who was none the wiser, but James knows better. He knows more than Niko. He pauses, a small tilt of his head as he plays upon his words. He had chosen the scramble of terms, playing on a feigned barrier between languages that still sat on his tongue when he spoke. It was one of the other flaws, the way the Red Room hadn’t been able to eliminate that accent completely. “Or maybe the right word would just be entrance. There wasn’t much of a door left.”

He listened intently to him, unsure of where exactly it is that James stands. Niko’s interest is peaked, wondering if he’s really a hero or he’s just pretending to care. So many stand on one side out of necessity, but he’s pushed hard enough to find that their motivation is weak. Some belong to the other side defined by conflicting morals, and some belong no where at all. 

“The widows don’t claim me,” He corrects him. “So therefore I ask without a conflicting perspective on their behalf, where does your morality point? Your superiors are gone from both ends, good and evil. What are you doing with your life now, then?”

he can’t help but laugh just a little.   sounds about right.   there’s definitely been a few blown out doors.   and buildings.   &  maybe he’s a little proud.   it’s interesting— watching how the remains of hydra  &  the red room have progressed;  the evolution of it.   splintered out factions of former assassins and killers trying to piece their worlds back together.

“didn’t get invited to their party,  nishen’ka?”   there’s a bit of a mean undertone but nothing that he knows niko can’t handle.   “it’s still pointed in the direction of murder is okay.   some people are irredeemable.   traffickers,  serial killers...   a cannibal or two.   new york’s shit.   always has been.    — lotta shit like that.   still tied to s.h.i.e.l.d. in a sense but they’re not a huge fan of the  ‘kill bad people’  motto.   mostly that.   still trying to catch up on everything i’ve missed—  truly thrilling to be all but dead for seventy something years and finally feel like i’ve caught up;  only to vanish again for four years.   seems everything’s getting worse,  y’know?   makes you wish for the good ol’ days when we were just brainwashed assassins.”

“everyone keeps telling me that  facebook  &  instagram  and all that crap—  best inventions of the modern era.   you’re all wrong.   the clear answer is the invention of the splayd...   the only correct use of social media is telling other people how cool splayds are.   i don’t want to hear about sandra from work’s fucking brunch again.   i want to talk about a knife-spoon-fork combo.”   (  * @reshieldedstart​  )

dsyjohnsns​:

           ever  since  her  mother  died  …  for  a  second  time  ,   daisy  tried  to  …  honor  the  woman  where  she  could  -  even  with  something  as  simple  as  the  sort  of  dresses  jaiying  had  shown  daisy  the  first  time  around  .   and  she  looked  …  pretty ?   she  thought  -  no  ,   she  hoped.   because  she’s  out  with  bucky  barnes  and  it  feels  good :  and  she  doesn’t  want  these  little  moments  to  end  .“  i  was  gonna  give  you  a  bite  of  the  mooncake  regardless -  ”   she  informs  him  ,   but  eyes  get  almost  rounder  with  innocence  ,   daisy  nodding  quickly  .“  but  i’m  not  gonna  say  no  to  that  offer  . ” 

he scoffs,  overly-dramatized  &  feigning insult,  “the least you could do is give me two bites then.”   he’s pulling off the leather jacket  &  carefully passing it to her,  trying to tell himself this isn’t the start of a shitty rom-com because it isn’t.   people like him don’t get a happy ending.   “now—  mooncake me.   i haven’t had one in...   like eighty years.   when i was growing up,  one of our neighbors was this thai couple and whenever they made mooncakes,  they’d give us some and in return we’d give them sufganiyah whenever we made it.   obviously,  this is pre-great depression because who was buying sugar then?   — i really feel like i’m aging myself by saying this.”

buryeden​:

“I left quickly. I’m sure I’ve made up for it if I didn’t.” It’s a lie, but only because of the glaze over the truth that only made it easier to swallow— not that he’d have to buffer anything for James. If anyone was holding it back, it had to be him and there was an unsettling feeling about not being the most aware in the room, even if the room was as wide as the skyline from where they stood on the roof. 

He shook his head, a small pace beginning as Niko finally moved from his position. It was draped casualty, some need to stretch his legs and give into the itch to make some form of movement, but he was casing where they stood. He was taking a glance at all the angles around them, looking for where to hide to claim complete isolation if it was needed. He was used to being watched, but it didn’t make him any less conscious of it. 

“I’m botched,” He reminded him. “What they made me with may have been similar to the widows and to you, but it’s not the same by a long shot. Mortality is all the same. But morality? I’m trying. I think there’s very little of it now, though, and it’s stale.”

they’re both predators,  trained  &  honed to kill.   circling each other  &  waiting for the other to make the first move.   for as much as niko says the words botched,  bucky isn’t going to underestimate him.   botched doesn’t mean docile.   it doesn’t mean weak or unwilling to kill you.   “sure shit.   you think i’m that dumb?   they’re not just letting people stroll out of there.   trying to tell me that you escaped out the fucking bathroom window or something?”

so he keeps watching  &  studying—  having faced and underestimated karli,  he’s not interested in repeating that mistake.   he’s seen the danger that rogue super soldiers can cause (and he’ll include the damage he caused in that),  & new york has enough shit going on without the little wolf spider causing chaos.

“—— niko,  i’m giving you one nice warning.   for old times sake.   if you end up in my crosshairs,  i’m not going to hesitate.   city of dreams or what the fuck ever;  you can go play with the widow squad belova has set up and hunt down the remains of the red room or fuck around and start up a shitty etsy business.   i don’t actually care.   but if you start getting your shit in the wrong places,  i’ll put you down like a dog.   so lets hope that your stale morality is pointing in the same direction as mine.”

dsyjohnsns​:

         (@reshieldedstart​ !  )“  so  maybe  i  underestimated  how  cold  i’d  be  in  this -  ”   gestures  towards  her  outfit  ,   shaking  a  bit  .“  regrets  .   i  gottem  -  wanna  share  this  mooncake  with  me ?  ”

this is the first time his brain has frozen since coming out of cryostasis.   he’s more confident doing down the path of murder,  hunting down his past.   but standing here— on a date that isn’t a date because it can’t be a date because there is simply no way that daisy johnson would agree to go on a date.   it’s a friend date.   friends go on dates.   it’s daisy johnson on a friend date in a dress that’s making him glue his eyes to her face because otherwise he’s going to blush.   “do you want my jacket?   i’ll trade you.   i get a bite of the mooncake and you get to stop being cold.”

Billy Russo in Marvel’s The Punisher, Season 1

lttlebrnes​:

            (  @menaticide​  !  )    woman  struggles  to  unload  her  grocery  cart  ,   having  done  the  shopping  for  her  roommate    (  who  was  also  her  ex  -  it  was  kinda  weird  ,   but  they  made  it  work  )   ,   and  -  is  that  her  cart  rolling  away ?    “  fuck !  ”   rebecca  hisses  ,   it  rolling  towards  the  man  and  she’s  just  trying  to  get  the  damn  rice  bag  into  the  car  .    “  sorry  ,   shit  -  shit  ,  ”  practically  drops  the  bag  into  the  car  before  running  after  the  cart  ,   before  blue  eyes  fall  on  …  him  .  

                  “  bucky !?  ”  

it begins like this:   they needed more soup.   so bucky volunteers to go,  sulks off to the supermarket and comes out with a pile of boring cans and some bread,  all while shoving a peanut butter cup into his mouth so that steve does not know he didn’t get him one too.   he’s cramming the cans into the underseat compartment of his motorcycle when someone yells.

he hears her before he sees her.   and it’s familiar,  a little bit so.   but there’s nine billion people on the planet— of course,  someone might have a similar voice to his dead sister.   it’s a reflex,  grabbing the trolley to stop it before it hits him.   and it’s then that he sees her.

“— what the fuck?”  it’s the first thing that comes out of his mouth.   it’s the only thing that is in his head looking at the face of someone who should be dead (a little hypocritical since he should also be dead).  but it can’t be her.   it can’t be rebecca.   or the even more terrifying possibility that it is her.   but it can’t.   he won’t even consider that possibility.   “who the—”

three options:   1.  she’s the grandchild or what-the-fuck-ever of rebecca who just happens to look uncannily like her.  status:  unlikely but possible.   2.  some stalker who’s stolen his sisters face to get his attention.  status:  even more unlikely.   3.   this is some plot by a) hydra or an even worse b) shield to control him and this is not his sister but a clone or someone with her face.  status:  most likely.   proceed with option three.

so he takes a second  &  it really is almost her.   but that isn’t her eyes.   rebecca is a dark eyed creature that mirrors him in every sense.   she’s a drowning void that could sink boats and engulf landmasses with the darkness that lays in them.   this woman isn’t her.   so he’s collected  &  cold,  highly aware of the knife tucked into his boot when he speaks.   “walk the fuck away.   if you think i’m not above killing you in front of a supermarket,  you’re wrong.   whoever the hell sent you—  hydra,  remains of the kgb— fucking shield  ;  i don’t care.   go back to your handler and tell them you can’t find me.   this isn’t worth dying for.”

it ends like this:  you’re going to kill your possible sister in the parking lot.

americanhero​:

@menaticide​

Steve Rogers had lived many, many lives–far more than any man had any right to live. He had been a child of the Depression, a sickly, dreamy child his parents could barely afford. He’d been a noble-visioned orphan, an art school drop-out with nothing tying him down, desperate for more. He’d been reborn the first time in a military lab in New Jersey; he’d woken again in New York City decades after he should by all rights have died. Then, when he’d thought it was over and his time was up, after he’d run out enough lives to warrant canonization, he’d come back. This was his last round. He was sure of it. He hoped. He didn’t know that he could handle another life after this one.

But, through all those lives, he had had one single constant: Bucky. His brother, his best friend, the only person still a live who remembered when Steve was barely five foot four on a good day and would snap in a strong breeze. Bucky, who had come back from the dead himself one time too many, who Steve had taken in in their last life, who had taken Steve in in this one.

Bucky, who had had an entire bedroom for his cat, a fluffy white-coated thing who refused to relinquish her claim. Here he was, the man who had once been Captain America, sharing a bedroom in a cheap, poorly-decorated apartment with a cat. (He couldn’t tell Bucky that he did, actually, love her an awful lot. In all his lives, he’d never had a pet. He’d been allergic, then he’d been busy, then he’d been dead. But if he only had one shot left, maybe they weren’t so bad.) It was peaceful, though, when she wasn’t hogging all the pillows for herself. Domestic, even. Normal, almost. They could sit on the couch, Alpine perched in his lap, Steve stroking her absently as he flicked through the TV. Why were there so many streaming services now? He hadn’t been dead that long–how had they made so much TV while he was gone? It was overwhelming, and his little post-ice catch-up journal had vanished with the rest of his things after Thanos.

The door shut, and Steve looked up towards it as he heard footsteps. Alpine stood up in his lap, too, and let out a chirp. “Hey, Buck,” he called. “Did you know they remade Sex and the City? Why did they do that? Wasn’t once enough?”

so maybe this isn’t how he expected his life to go.   the wide-eyed eighteen year old living in brooklyn that was barely scraping by never would have seen this coming.   but for all the changes,  all the terrifying and terrible things that happened,  he still somehow ended up again by steve’s side.   despite everything.   even between the brainwashing and the murder attempts,  steve stuck by him.   where everyone else would have rightfully turned and high tailed it out of there,  his brother stuck by him.

and now,  as far as bucky is concerned—  his biggest problem is the fact that alpine is a traitorous bitch who’s picked a new favourite.   maybe he doesn’t actually care how steve came back.   he’s got his friend back.   and this is somehow almost what he’d expected when he’d been a kid.   living with his best friend and working a shit job.   for all hydra tried to take everything from him,  it didn’t work.   he’s still got steve and that’s all that counts.

“why did they even make one let alone another?”   he calls back to steve,  keys dropping  &  kicking his boots to the corner of the room.   coming home to more then just alpine  &  soap is more comforting then he expected.   that he isn’t alone anymore.   his eyes fall to the traitorous cat,  his fingers rubbing softly over her head as he trudges past  &  sprawls next to his best friend on the couch,   “i hate all this new media.   westworld?   why bother remaking a good original?   the first film,  as the kids would say:  it slapped.   death to reboots.”

“speaking of death:   didn’t they kill big?   absolutely absurd.   he was the highlight of that show.   suppose they did milk the hell out of it.   two television shows  &  two films.   i think we should stop fighting actual villains or whatever  &  move onto beating up whoever keeps greenlighting reboots.”

dsyjohnsns​:

           “  you  know  ,   i  actually  got  a  few  of  those  back  in  headquarters  ,   maybe  i  should  set  them  up  with  a  new  job  …  ”   she  drawls  out  ,   leaning  back  in  her  chair  to  draw  out  a  fake  neon  sign  with  her  fingers  .   and  daisy  grins  at  him  ,   wide  and  genuine  ,   eyes  with  a  bit  of  sparkle  in  them  .    “  don’t  worry  ,   i’d  personally  hack  my  way  into  your  file  so  that  we ?  we  have  our  space  .  ”    and  he’s  been  lingering  in  her  mind  more  often  than  not  ,   and  she  knows  that  opening  up  can  open  some  wounds  ,   but  it’s  a  chance  she’s  willing  to  take  .    “  well  …   i’m  glad  you  found  that  in  me  .   or  at  least  to  be  one  of  your  people  .   and  now  i’m  assuming  shit  so  i’m  just  gonna  shut  my  mouth  while  i’m  still  ahead  -  ”   and  she  swallows  at  the  next  comment  ,   eyes  blinking  almost  furiously  for  a  few  seconds  .    “  okay  ,   i’m  not  cinderella  who  believes  in  all  good  ,   alright ?   i’m  a  well  trained  spy  and  i’ve  been  through  shit  and  i  know  good  people  when  i  see  it  .  ”   she’s  not  the  same  girl  holding  grant  ward’s  hand  and  insisting  her’s  a  good  person  .   a  pause  .    “  i like you too,  for  the  record  .   even  if  you  don’t  want  to  watch  wandavision  with  me  ,   i  promise  it’s  a  good  show  ,   and  even  wanda  isn’t  mad  about  it !  ”   or  mad  about  daisy  watching  it  .   they  had  formed  a  lil’  bond  ever  since  daisy  had  become  director  of  s.w.o.r.d.  ,   she  determined  to  make  things  right  .   and  her  head  ducks  down  at  his  compliment  ,   slight  grin  before  looking  through  dark  lashes  .   “  what’s  it  like ?  growing  up  in  a  …  completely  different  world  from  where  you  are  a  grown  up  .  ”  

“keep your mind readers a good  six  feet  from me.”   he can’t say it without laughing,  no matter how  desperate  he is to try  &  keep a straight face.   and for all of the laughter that he can’t keep down,  keep the mind readers the fuck away  is a serious thought.   the terrifying  &  ever-growing feelings for daisy are not to be projected into the world.   “mmm see now:   that means you’re in my shield file  &  i don’t want you in it  or  reading it.   how about we make a deal to keep away from psychics,  therapists  &  shield files that have my name on it?”   and it comes down to the fact that,  she knows he’s a bad person but he doesn’t ever want her to find out how bad.   (everyone keeps saying that you’re not the winter solider anymore and that you didn’t do those things but that doesn’t mean you want people reading about the slaughter behind a name you once held).   “you are.   do you want an award for it?   congratulations!   you managed to break down enough of my walls to be tolerated for more then five minutes!   —  and for the record,  it isn’t because i’m worried about wanda being mad.   while i am slightly terrified of her,  if i wanted to watch weird reality tv:  i’d watch the kardashians.”   maybe he should float that idea to wanda next time he sees her.   keeping up with the maximoffs.   “daisy... libe...   i know.   i know.   you haven’t been green in a while,  huh?   powerhouse inhuman and deadly spy.   guess i’m going to have to believe you  &  accept the compliment now,  huh.  bucky barnes... good person.   sounds weird.”   if it was anyone else,  he’d have told them to fuck off.   he wouldn’t even consider entertaining this argument.   but it’s daisy  &  a nickname slips out as he softens.   “it’s...   saying  it  feels  different  is a bit of a cop out,  isn’t it?   it’s like being in a play and everyone else knows the words but you don’t.   you hear these snippets of familiar things:  people start talking about the hobbit and it’s like,  i  know  that.   but then they’re discussing the movies and all i can think is about the movies  i  watched and how different they are.   that the adult life i had expected for myself isn’t something i’ll ever have.   that  everyone  i know is gone.   i had a sister,  y’know?   tried to find her grave a while back...   everything i know,  everything i remember,  they’re gone.   but for all the bad,  there is good.   ben & jerry’s ice cream,  netflix  &  hostess cupcakes.   the fact that  for  as  much  as  i  complain,  therapy is an option.   you.   it isn’t the world i expected but i think it’s the one i needed.”