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In his dreams, Steve’s liver was between his teeth. There was a slit down his side, moonlight painting the white of his skin. The asset knew that his teeth were painted with blood, but the wound did not weep it. It stayed perfectly sealed inside of his beautiful body, unlike the organs he so carelessly ripped out with his jaw.

Steve was asleep, or unconscious, but he was not dead. Through his hot flesh the asset could feel his heartbeat, and it unsettled him. Another cut was made, and the asset pulled apart Steve’s ribs reverently. They came undone like yarn, slipping through flesh and metal fingers. It was too easy. The asset wrapped his metal hand around Steve’s heart. He knew not of the feeling of skin against beating tissue, and he had no intention of enlightening himself. Closing flesh around such an organ would be too close to love, and the asset felt only surrender.

He pulled, first gently and then harder, squeezing like the.. thing would come squishing through the cracks of his fingers like rotten fruit. His hand stayed clean. It was almost like sex, the push and pull, and finally the asset gave in and leaned his head down, closing his teeth around Steve’s heart and biting as hard as he could. The taste of iron and rot did not come, and the asset could not penetrate the hard muscle.

“I hate you.” The asset whispered into hot blood, hoping that the salvia that rolled down his chin would drop into the cavity that he had created, maim and taint Steve’s American Dream. “I don’t want this.”

Steve was whispering in his ear. He loved him. No, no, this was not love. This was weakness. This was surrender. Surely the rip of teeth should burn, have Steve screaming and begging the asset to stop. He wanted Steve to tell him to stop. Was he giving up?

He woke up panting, and hard, and on the living room floor. Gripping a loaded revolver in his right hand, he closed his eyes and bit his lip until it bled, imagining it was Steve’s blood in his mouth instead.

........... miku

bucky haircut headcanons bc i can’t stop thinking abt it

in my mind, bucky has had several haircuts in his life, but only a few styles that were important.

the first time he cut it was when he was drafted.

before that, it hadn’t been cut in at least a few months. not long, not like it would be later in his life, but enough. enough that boys and girls alike would run their fingers through soft brunette ringlets, because it was just long enough that it had this sort of youthful wave to it. it was nice.

and then, it was gone.

short and strict, but he kept as much as he was allowed to. there’s no room for your bangs to fall into your eyes when you’re on the front lines, y’know. and bucky didn’t necessarily like having his hair short, but it drove home a point he hadn’t been able to swallow when he was younger: sooner or later in his life, he’d have to conform. i he couldn’t always get steve out of fights, or let his hair get long and messy. at some point he’d stop having a playful boyish charm and start being seen as an immature man with no life direction.

bucky never did have to conform the way he thought he would. he didn’t leave the army and settle down, or have kids. instead he fell from a train into an infinite winter and impossibly endless pain.

his hair grew.

not that he noticed it. those years were a haze of pain and fear and anger and missions. he didn’t cut his hair. he was a soldier, not a barber. sometimes he would be deployed and notice it shorter, but that never mattered. the only thing to ever matter was completing the mission and going back to sleep and praying they wouldn’t wake him up again, but they always did.

and then he was free. his hair was messy and unkempt, but so was he. from fight after fight to the wakandans saving him, and it never occured to him he should cut his hair. it didn’t seem all that important anymore, all things considered. people these days didn’t seem to care too much either.

but when bucky was alone? when he left wakanda, when he got his own place again, when the quiet was too quiet? he needed something, he needed some sense of normalcy, some reminder that he’s still him. so bucky hacks at his hair and he grabs razors and by the time he’s done the bathroom is a fucking disaster and the sun is peaking over the horizon but his hair is short again, he looks like some ghost. he looks like sargent james barnes, he has his face but stole his smile and replaced it with frown lines long ago. he looks like he should’ve died in the 40’s.

when sam sees him, he doesn’t ask questions. they’ve got bigger things to worry about.

and it’s with sam, some several months later, when bucky is resting his head in sam’s lap and sam is carding his fingers through dark hair, that bucky feels a bit more like himself again.

“hair’s getting long,” sam might say. he’ll ask bucky if he wants it cut.

bucky will faintly wonder if sam cares, if sam has a preference in whether or not his hair is long. maybe he asks him, and maybe sam laughs gently and kisses his cheek.

so bucky grows his hair out. it’s a bit uneven, it doesn’t look the best, but it’s the best bucky’s felt in a long time. he can look in the mirror and know he is all that he was before, but he’s also everything he can be in the future, and maybe that’s okay. besides, sam seems to like tugging at his hair, and who is bucky to take that simple pleasure from his newly announced fiance?

Most people might not know this, but this character here is actually another youtuber, Bigbstatz, in the game he's referred to as Anthony, which is his real name, he appears as an associate in the Sunshine Institute and doesn't seem to mind his job, his most notable quality is that he really likes Cookies, which is a reference to his youtube channel

In terms of why his character is character is in the Sunshine Institute, according to a Tumblr Post by Eric Stirpe, Romeo lost to him in a mini game, (which is another reference to his channel)

The real Bigbstatz even got an actual letter from The Warden

Marvel characters as cat memes:

There is no childhood in Gaza 💔

gofundme.com

Donate to Support Amal's Family in War-Torn Gaza Escape to Egypt, organized by Brooke Cole

Hello, my name is Brooke Coke and I am organizing this fundraiser o… Brooke Cole needs your support for Support Amal's Family in War-Torn Ga

At this time, children are usually on summer vacation, playing in the streets and going to the beach to swim. But this does not happen in Gaza. The occupation kills children in cold blood in front of their families because they demand their right to play like other children in the world. What injustice? You are my last hope. Our children want to go to school and live in peace and security

How can you help our children? This is done by donating, publishing the campaign, sharing it with friends, and reblogging. Thanks for helping us

@sayruq @schoolhater @butchniqabi @politijohn @loonarmuunar @qattdraws @turtletoria @tododeku-or-bust @unfortunatelyuncreative @piratekenway

@khanger @vilonnie @butchniqabi

i miss a fictional man so instead of talking to someone real i made snoopy pfps of him