#have this instead.

[scldat]

@snntry wishes for Bucky to sternly tell Bob no [disagree] .

IN HIS DEFENSE , HE DOESN'T USUALLY LET ANYTHING JUST LIE AROUND THE TOWER ; especially not a detached arm . further in his defense , he has fully abstained from even trying to clean it in any sort of communal area but may have , regretfully , at some point confessed to knowing the arm was dishwasher - safe at least . turns out Bob remembers conversations really well . turns out , too , that he comes with quite a lot of zeal to keep the kitchen neat .

nothing Bucky can fault him for . still the sudden " no! " when he walks through the kitchen door to spot Bob reaching for the arm on the counter with the dishwasher open may or may not be a little too intense .

he follows up with a quick clearing of his throat , toning it down to mild - and tries an apologetic smile that is perhaps somewhat lopsided . " sorry , I - that came out a little strong . uhm . . . " it's not like the arm is some sacred relic , not to be touched . rather , the damn thing comes with a set of caveats Bob cannot know about . " it's just that there's electrodes in there that aren't exactly sensitive but more - volatile , and if you put that in there with silverware , it may cause the whole dishwasher to implode . " the smile turns from apologetic to sheepish while he takes the arm back . " please don't ask me how I know that . "

[movedkagen]

pops.     that’s  what  he  elected  to  call  the  old  man?     that  was  interesting.     had  he  objectively  known  something  about  them  being  close  for  the  past  ten  years?     sure.     but  ten  years  ago,     he  was  horribly  self - absorbed.     he  was  thinking  that  there  was  no  time  like  the  present  to  finally  get  close  to  his  peer,     higuchi  enzo.         ❛         say,     higuchi   ...  we’re  the  same  age  ...       ❜  

no,     that’s  complete  bullshit.     it’s  much  more  likely  that  he  sees  an  opportunity  to  irritate,     and  is  taking  it  swiftly.     he’s  known  his  story  for  years.     made  the  old  bastard  seem  so  heartwarming  it  made  gojo  want  to  throw  up.

❛         ——  so  that  means  your  dad  was  fucking  your  mom  at  what,     eighty?       ❜ 

      @yeonban​,          starter.

[armyhoned]

drabble meme - safe

meme     /     a drabble about the word without saying the word.

his life is all danger—it’s what it’s always been, what he’s crafted for himself. it’s a conscious choice, to dance on an edge of a blade, always one mistake away from death, all in the name of keeping someone else, someone less willing and prepared for it from having to do the same—and that makes the opposite all the more precious, and all the more to fight for. it’s why he keeps training, he thinks. why a new chance to put himself in the line to protect others three miles or three thousand miles away is an opportunity and not a fear: because every drop of blood that falls from his brow is a drop of blood closer to the price he pays for having somewhere he doesn’t have to bleed. somewhere where he can stop and breathe and follow his friends to the table in the middle of the room. somewhere where he dares to build and lay the foundation for things more permanent, things more solid than anything out there… things that help him let the fear and the fight fall off his shoulders.

that feeling is never in protection, it’s not in the shields or in his gun or even in being surrounded by people as willing to take a bullet for him as he is for them—those are the things that can keep him alive, but it’s not the same. it’s never permanent: even a bulletproof vest only works once. everything designed to keep him alive is covered in dread; it’s to make you brave for just long enough to survive the day.

he takes off the adrenaline and the constant alertness two steps away from his front door. the door is a transition, of being in danger and not: when he’s inside, he can let his armour fall off and know it won’t add another scar to the map of mistakes that already maps his skin. he can put down his backpack, always packed for the worst case scenario, because he only knows how to prepare for the worst, and walk to his living room with certainty that for the next few hours or days or weeks, nothing more dangerous than cutting his finger while chopping vegetables will come to his life.

and when he sees elinor asleep on his couch and he can kneel down to her eye level, lift her head to angle it better for a kiss even though it may disrupt her sleep for a second or two, he remembers he’s gone his best to make sure the same is true for her.

[monofazz]

Another day in the Mindscape

Stanley: - is watching the kids while there playing in the snow-

Dipper: - got a bullseye on Mabel-

Mabel:....... - picks up another snowball- oh its on!!!

Stanley: - somehow makes a whole pile of snowballs for mabel- Go Mabel!

Dipper: - gets dunked on-

YFII FP TXQZEFKD

[thecajunthirst]

/hops onto back. I wanna go to disneyworld :llllllllllllllll

There’s something to be said about the rush of adrenaline to long dead veins as it pulses through the vampire in a way that feels more fitting (and more welcome) than the throws of thirst that washed over him topside.

There was only so long he could deny what he was and where he belonged. It isn’t that Benny wanted to spend his life honing skills he’d never need (not really) outside of a place that few realized actually existed. It’s not that Benny wanted to spend the rest of eternity in a constant waltz of lies and broken bonds for means of survival.

In Purgatory, the need for blood didn’t exist. Hunger didn’t exist. He could deny what he was beyond the extra strength and benefits it offered. He could deny it all because it wasn’t needed here. 

& yet —

There was something else to be said about the way there was a missing rhythm to his fighting. Fifty years of the same style and a hunter comes along to throw a wrench in his technique.

The hot breath of a werewolf grazes his cheek as he turned his back to whistle in tune to a figure that wouldn’t be there to pick up the swing of blade Benny left behind. 

Dean was gone; where he belonged.

Benny was here; where he belonged.

So why then did he still whistle in hopes of feeling the synced rhythm of Dean Winchester - his brother in arms - behind his back, watching it in the same way Benny fiercely returned that favor.