#also i'll be mobile until i pass out and then.... some more writing tomorrow when im not as Dead hopefully

[littledarlinwrites]

Dream a Little Dream Of Me

1940s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

This is for @teamcap4bucky Summer Sun and Fun Game! Thank you so much for hosting and for being so patient with me when I screwed up the due date. This was specifically written for @majesticavenger, I'm so sorry for the wait, but I hope it was worth it! Anywho, this is the first time I've wrote 40s!Bucky and I'm hella needy at the moment 'cause life, so leave me some love y'all! (Also, as soon as I can jump on my laptop I'll add a keep reading link, I'm not savvy enough to do it on mobile).

You trudged up to your Brooklyn apartment, your cat howling on the fire escape outside your bedroom window to be let in. A tired smile graves your face after a long day of work. A job you were grateful for, but bittersweet under the circumstances, patients sick or dying, and men going off to war only to never return either physically or mentally. You couldn't wait to hide away in your apartment for the rest of the night, draw a hot bath, listen to a radio program before nodding off to sleep. And, if you were lucky, maybe your apartment pen pal had sent you another note attached to your cats threaded collar. The thought of it made you pick up your pace as you climbed your apartment buildings staircase.

You practically ran into your apartment and to your bedroom window, flipping the latch and looking for the paper that was typically wrapped around your cats collar and tied with a baby blue string.

You found the paper, tying the baby blue string to an embroidery hoop with the others you collected. Today the note was short, just a song suggestion, something he would do on a rough day. You drew your bath water while turning up the radio station to catch the song. It wasn't until you were crawling into bed that the song played. Moonlight Serenade. You just hoped Lucky, the nickname he had told you to call him, was somewhere listening to it too.

The following morning you rushed around to get ready for the day and out the door in time. You scribbled your note to Lucky and wrapped it around the cat's collar before shooing it out the window.

----

Bucky laid on his bed, window open, waiting for the furry creature to make its way to him like it always did. Nox, she had said was the cat's name. Usually Bucky appreciated cats from a distance considering they would make him sneezy and itchy, but he couldn't help but enjoy the conversations with his pen pal. Luna, she had said to call her. A nickname her mother gave her due to her infatuation with the giant orb in the sky. He won every single match after he started talking with her, and he didn't consider that a coincidence. 

Bucky heard the mewling from the black cat before he felt it curl up on his chest. He scratched the cat behind its ears causing the cat to purr contentedly before he began unfurling the note attached to its knitted collar. 

“Silently if, out of not knowable

night’s utmost nothing, wanders a little guess

(only which is this world) more of my life does

not leap than with the mystery your smile

sings or if (spiraling as luminous

they climb oblivion) voices who are dreams,

less into heaven certainly earth swims

than each my deeper death becomes your kiss

losing through you what seemed myself, I find

selves unimaginably mine; beyond

sorrow’s own joys and hoping’s very fears

yours is the light by which my spirit’s born:

yours is the darkness of my soul’s return

–you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars”

-E. E. Cummings

Bucky read the poem three times before reaching for a piece of paper and jotting down some words. He wrapped the piece of paper around the cats collar, tying it with a frayed blue string from his work shirt and turned over to get a couple hours of sleep, if only his heart would stop fluttering like a hummingbird in his chest.

----

Walking through your door was a complete relief, even more so after stripping your nurses outfit and stockings. The hot shower relaxing your stiff and sore muscles. You donned your nightgown before opening your window for your cat to come home while running a brush through your wet strands. Eventually you heard the telltale meowing of your hungry cat before you heard its soft padding jumps to your floor from your window. You manage to scoop the black cat into your arms before you have to chase him through your apartment. You pull the thread holding the note onto his collar and unfurl the note to read it.

My lucky star

You shine so brightly

My lucky star 

You guide me through the night

My lucky star

You give me hope

My lucky star

You guide me home

My lucky star

You help me more than you know

My lucky star

Oh how you glow

My lucky star

Please never let me go

The words set fire to your face as your stomach erupted with a swarm of butterflies. You pulled out your journal, pressing the note between the next set of empty pages. You turn your radio on humming along to the song as you lay in your bed fighting sleep just to think about Lucky just a moment more.

When you wake in the morning you grab a paper and something to write with as you write down a couple lines to a song, one of your favorites, before you got ready for the day, humming the tune on your way to work and all through your day. Except, you forgot to leave the window open for your cat to get out to pass on the waiting note.

----

Bucky was fighting sleep waiting for the cat to prance his way through the window before making a home on his bed. Sleep clawed at his mind, his eye lids weighed heavy and sore with a need for rest. And just like that, Bucky fell asleep for the first time without the sound of a cat purring on his bed.

He woke up and walked to the shipyard, loading and unloading pallets until the sun hung low in the sky. He felt off kilter all day. Like he was just a hair off with his footing and could never get it quite right. He was a bit more clumsy than usual. All signs that he should cancel his match tonight and back out while he still could, but he trudged on, assuring himself that he could use the money so maybe he could take his lucky star out on a proper date. He made his way to the Y for his match pumping himself up, he just couldn't help this nagging feeling though that he was missing something.

----

When you got home from work your humming abruptly stopped when you saw your cat staring at you in the middle of the room, tail twitching every so often. Your shoulder slumped when you realized you never let your cat out with your note. You moved slowly to refill the food bowl before making yourself a small dinner. Your gut sinking by the minute that something was wrong. You went to bed that night hoping the feeling would pass by morning.

When you woke you realized you were running late. You dressed quickly before running out the door and to the hospital before checking your patient list, a relatively short one, but you had patients to attend to nonetheless. You made your way through your rounds before stopping at the last bed. A mess of bruises, a boxers fracture, sprained wrist, 2 broken ribs and the rest bruised, a black eye and a concussion. However, one look into the man's eye that wasn't swollen shut took your breath away. You decided then that blue was your all time favorite color. You checked his pulse, administered his medication which involved rousing him from his slumber, and making sure his bandages were fresh and in place. You turned to leave but stopped short at the site of a baby blue work shirt with frayed edges. You thumbed over the loose threads and noticed it was missing a few as if they had been pulled and cut for a purpose. The faintest whisper escaped you.

"Lucky?" A few beats passed before you heard the man you were just attending to clear his throat.

"Luna?" He asked confused. Your hand flew to your mouth as you gasped. You couldn't believe the man that made you blush on more than one occasion, that had worked his way into your dreams even though you had never seen his face, was now your patient.

"You okay there, doll?" He asked. When you barely nodded telling him yes he began to move as if to get out of bed sending you into a flurry of motion. 

"Lucky, you're hurt-"

"Bucky. I mean, my real name is James Buchanan Barnes, but most people call me Bucky." He grits out as pain shoots through his ribcage.

"Well, Bucky, you're hurt, you shouldn't move much quite yet." He nods as he waits for the wave of pain to pass.

"What happened to you?" You can't help but ask.

"I, uh, work at the shipyard during the afternoon, but at night I box. Damn good at it too. Guess luck just wasn't on my side last night, doll."

"Uh, Y/N. My name that is. My name is Y/N." A smile made its way onto Bucky's face.

"Why didn't you write back, doll? Didn't think my on the spot poem was that terrible." The giggle that managed to escape you at his humor about his poetry was like music to his ears, and he decided that he wanted to hear that sound forever.

"Sorry, that was my fault. I wrote you a note, I really did, but I forgot to open the window for my cat to deliver it. I loved your poem actually." A blush crawled upon Bucky's face at your words. 

"What was the note?" He asked curiously. 

"Oh, just some lines from a song, nothing special."

"It's always special coming from you, doll. What was the song?" This time it was your turn to blush.

"Dream a Little Dream of Me." You replied bashfully.

"What lines?"

"Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you

Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you

But in your dreams whatever they be

Dream a little dream of me."

"That's one of my favorites, doll."

The rest of your shift you spent at Bucky's bedside talking music, poetry, family, pets, friends, where your apartment was and everything else under the sun. You told Bucky you would come by tomorrow to spend the day with him since it was your day off. You couldn't wait to come back, although it was bittersweet realizing there would be no note to come home to. 

When you woke the next morning you heard a tapping at your door. You opened it to reveal Bucky standing there with a bouquet of flowers with a note.

I dreamt a little dream of you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fluff #buckyxreader #james barnes x reader #40s!bucky #40s!bucky x reader #40s!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes marvel #james bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes

[solo-pitstop-vibes]

Don’t Have to Tell Me Twice

A/N: I wrote this one kinda quick, maybe it’s not too bad. I’m trying to really work on my writing so I’m going to try to get the part two for Come Home to Me out soon. Enjoy!

Words: 2,333

"The murmur is gone."

The words that stopped your heart, your breathing, and echoed in your mind for weeks, months, days, and years. The second those four words slipped from your sweet Eugene's lips, your world stopped. You held it together, but that night you cried yourself to sleep. You knew Gene would be shipping off soon, off to fight the war that he had so desperately been trying to claw his way to. You didn't want him to go, you knew better than to beg, so you didn't dare ask him to stay. His heart was with the war, and if he didn't go, his heart would never be at home. So you collected yourself the best you could and came to terms with him leaving. You didn't know how long he'd be gone or if you'd ever see him again. You two had known each other for several years now, him being the first person you met when your family moved to town when you were 13, and now you were inseparable. You and Eugene had just been together as a couple for about 9 months when he shipped out.

Seeing him off at the train station almost broke your heart entirely. Especially when he gave you that adorable half-smile of his standing out on the platform.

"You better not run off and find another gal on your way home when the war is over," you had said, in an attempt to lighten the mood, a small grin on your face.

"I'll try my hardest darlin'. Ain't nobody as pretty as you though, gotta make sure I come home so no one steals the prettiest girl in Mobile out from under me," Eugene smiles that smile that made you fall in love with him all over again, and your blush could be seen a mile away. The whistle of the train caught your attention and broke your smiles. It was time.

"Don't forget, mother and father want you over for supper every Sunday afternoon, and you can take Deacon on a walk anytime you like. Don't be shy, they love you," Eugene reminded you.

"I know, Gene. Thank you for reminding me, I'll make sure to give Deacon extra lovin' since you won't be there to spoil him." That dog had gone everywhere with you two the past few years, he had become like a child between the pair of you. You never saw you two without Deacon. The train whistle blew again, meaning it was time for Eugene to board. Tears had started to well up in your eyes, and Eugene pulled you into a tight embrace.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. I'll be back, I promise. I love you (Y/N)."

You hugged him back with everything in your body before pulling away.

"I love you too Eugene," your hands settled on his chest and his came up to cup your face, pulling your lips to his. You knew the next kiss shared between you two would a very long time from then, but you never thought it would be nearly 4 years later. In your heart, it felt like an eternity.

—

Life had been passing by, but not truly lived while Eugene was away. You had kept Gene's reminder in check, and you had supper with his family every Sunday evening and walked Deacon at least every other day. Since Eugene had been gone, you had moved out of your family's house into a small one bedroom house closer to town. It was exactly what you wanted, and everything you could ask for. Your parents had offered to help you purchase the small home, in exchange that you took classes at Alabama Polytechnic, and kept a small job. Three or four days out of the week after your last midday class, you were an assistant in the office at the elementary school downtown. You always loved seeing the kids during the school year, and when the summers rolled around, they always let you help out the rest of the staff with any repainting they did around the school. Most of the staff had gotten to know you, so they always tried to keep you busy and your thoughts off the constant worry in your mind.

To everyone else, it seemed as if you were doing just fine, but on the inside, you were a pile of shattered glass. Each waking moment was a struggle, every moment was filled with dread and worry. Your worst nightmare was hearing the news that no one wanted to hear, the news that made mothers, fathers, siblings, and significant others crash to their knees and weep. Each letter from Eugene was a small relief, but his letters were filled with glimpses into the hell he was living. He tried his hardest to spare you the gore and the hideous details of each day in the Pacific, but you knew he was struggling to keep it together. You did your best writing him back, you never wanted to glorify the quaint life of Mobile. That was a cruel thing to do to a man in war. Eugene's letters often came months late, and you may only receive one every 3-5 months. When you other best fried, Sidney Phillips returned from the Pacific, he did his best to comfort you when you were down. Although, he was still trying to help himself to recover from the horrors he had seen in the war himself. Since Sid's return home, you both decided to at least have lunch with each other once a week, usually every Tuesday. You were actually the one to help him get up the courage to finally ask Mary Houston it, a girl he had been pinning after since he was a young teenager. After a few months of them dating, Mary started joining you two for lunch, and you and her became friends. This became your routine, every Tuesday you three would meet at the little diner downtown, have lunch, talk, and enjoy each other's company. A year passed and one day, the couple sitting across from you couldn't stop smiling at each other. It warmed your heart to see them so happy together, but this affection was a little more than usual.

"Okay, you two," you giggle, setting your coffee cup down on the table in front of you, "y'all haven't stopped smiling at each other since you walked up. Something tells me that something is goin' on here that I just don't know about yet. You best spill the beans before I have to pull it out of ya."

They both laughed and Sid caught your gaze, a broad smile on his face. It clicked in your head and you already knew what he was about to say. A genuine smile spread across your cheeks, "Well Sid I hate to tell ya, but you might have a few men try to jump you when you announce that the Mary Houston is officially off the market for good." You all laughed and Mary gushed about how romantic it was when Sid asked her to marry him. Their engagement started a new branch of your life that helped you pull through each day. Mary began including you in things with her friends, and she always had a list of things to ask your opinion on each Tuesday. You never let the news break to Gene, Sid said he wanted to break the news to him himself, so you kindly agreed. You helped them plan their small engagement party, which was held at the new banquet hall down by the bay. That night, your heart ached that you couldn't have Eugene by your side, but you put a smile on your face for everyone. The wedding creating a new thread in life for you, which helped brighten your days. The couple decided to wait until the war was over to have the ceremony, mainly due to the fact that Sidney wanted Eugene to be his best man, even though you offered to wear one of Eugene's old suit coats over your dress and be a stand-in. He declined the offer, saying you were too pretty to be standing in for Eugene, that he needed the real deal.

Between the wedding planning, working at the elementary school, and attending college, before you knew it, another year had passed. You were painting a large cartoon farm in one of the halls at the elementary school when the news rang out on the radio nearby. The other ladies helping you paint went frantic.

"The war is over!"

"The troops are coming home!"

"No more war!"

You were stunned, the paintbrush still tight in your hand.

"(Y/n)! Aren't you excited, your lover boy is coming home!" That comment caught you, and the rest of the day, you couldn't wipe the smile off your face.

You called Sid the second you got home, questions flying from our lips. When do you think Gene would be home? Do you think he'll come straight home? You also told him to ask Mary what you should wear to the train station. He only laughed and said, "Slow down speedy, I don't know the answer to every question you've got now. We'll just have to hear from Gene first, he can answer more than I can. He might be rounded up for some cleanup work, so it could be another few months, but Mary said she'd come over tomorrow to help you find something."

Turns out a few months ended up being six before you finally got word from Eugene that he'd be home soon. You were ecstatic, well that was more of an understatement. Your mood improved, your smile brightened, and your heart ached less knowing Eugene would be returning home, alive. The exact date of Eugene's arrival was kept strictly between him and Sid, Eugene said he wanted it to be a surprise, which you hated. That boy was going to be the death of you as if he hadn't caused you any heart troubles already. Awaiting Eugene's arrival you tried to keep yourself busy instead of just staring out the window all day, and Eugene's mother was a huge help. It was currently a cool fall evening, you were at the Sledge household helping Mrs. Sledge do some cleaning. She was inside washing some of her glass plates and cups that she had on display in the dining room, and you were outside hanging freshly washed bedsheets, curtains, and other linens. Humming to yourself lightly, you hung up a bedsheet. The soft fabric flowing in the wind as you pinned the corners to the clothesline.

"(Y/N), dear! You have a visitor, I'm sending them out to you," Mary Frank's voice rang out from the back steps. You didn't bother shouting out a response, not wanting to try and yell across the yard. It was probably either Mary Houston or Sidney. Anytime they couldn't find you or get ahold of you, they always came here. You hang up the last sheet in your basket and smooth it out before you finally lookup. Your heart stops, and you freeze in your place. Through the sheets floating in the wind, you catch a glimpse of dark green moving towards you. Maybe I'm just seeing things, you thought.

"Gene," your voice is barely above a whisper, the words struggling to come out. The wind blows harder this time, the sheets floating through the air almost horizontal this time, and that's when you see all of him. The black shoes, the dark green pants, and coat, with a hat to match. He looks so different but just the same, all at the same time. His skin is tan, his shoulders are broader, and he stands taller than before. He makes his way to you, your breathing uneven, your hands shaking. Please don't be a dream, if it is, so help me God. Eugene stands a few feet from you now, that smile that you love so much appearing on his lips. You didn't think your heart could beat any quicker, but, oh boy, weren't you wrong.

"My mother tells me that I'd be able to find the prettiest girl in Mobile out here, you wouldn't happen to know her would ya?"

His voice was slightly deeper, rougher but it sends waves of comfort through you. A smile broke out on your face, a faint blush covering your cheeks. Before you knew it, your body lurched towards Eugene's and you had wrapped your arms around him in a hug. Tears rolled down your cheeks as Eugene gently pulled your head from his neck, using his thumbs to wipe the tears. "Don't waste those tears on me, I'm home now. You don't have to worry anymore darlin'."

"Ya know, Mitch Haygood kept asking me on a date at least once a month while you were gone, he made the mistake of catching me out with your mother about six months ago. Let's just say, he never asked again," you both broke out into giggles, both knowing how Eugene's mother can be.

"I'm glad she handled it so I wouldn't have to go give him a talking to when I got back. Can't have anyone stealing my girl when I'm away," Eugene replied looking down at you. He simply held you there after he spoke, just looking at you. His hands were cupped around your cheeks and jaw, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones. Your hands grip at the uniform cinched at his waist. His tongue reached out to quickly swipe across his lips. You hadn't kissed those lips in four years, and if you didn't soon you felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest.

"You better kiss me, Eugene Sledge, before I go calling Mitch Haygood."

With a crack of that beautiful smile and a small rumble in his chest, Eugene replied, "Don't have to tell me twice, sweetheart."

#eugene sledge #eugene sledge x reader #the pacific #new writer #eugene sledge one shot #eugene sledge imagine #eugene sledge imagines #eugene #sledge #sledgehammer imagines #eugene sledgehammer sledge

[isabelbuccellati]

(writing it here so no one misses it)

Vicolo Cieco, Capitolo Uno

It was the evening of a gloomy Saturday, not a single cloud in the sky to be seen and a gentle warm breeze danced through the streets of Naples. After running some irrelevant errands, Risotto headed to the bar he frequented long time ago, back in the days when he was younger and merely but a simple mobster. The wooden door creaked as he pushed it and a few stranger gazes fixed on his tall figure for a moment, just to back and sink in their melancholic sopor right away. Heavy smoke clouds from the lit cigarettes and the faint smell of sweet liquor filled the room. "This place haven't changed a bit" he thought as he sat down on a stool, next to the bartender, crossing his arms onto the bar table. Before he could order any drink he would choose, a glass half filled with an aromatic whiskey accompanied by an ashtray was placed before him.

"Nero! How long has it been?" The bartender greeted Risotto almost too cheerily for the place and context of the situation.

He cleared his throat after the burning sensation that sipping from the glass left in his mouth. "I lost count of the years long ago, Mariano. How comes you're still working here?" The last thing Risotto wanted in that moment was chatting, but his manners made it impossible for him to just shush away the man.

"Life hasn't treated me well. I tried to study, but Adriano fell sick, and I had to take care of him and his medical expenses. After he passed away I just...", he couldn't finish the sentence, as tears threatened to fall from his eyes and his expression was one of pure pain, like if something soft and sensitive was ripped open inside him. Lifting just the tiniest bit his brows, relaxing his jaw and softening his face Risotto raised his gaze to find Mariano's. 

"I'm sorry to hear that", he muttered, giving the barkeeper a compassionate look. He knew well their tragic love story, how they faced a world that had to offer nothing but hate and discrimination just to be together, and now with his partner deceased, Risotto could just imagine the helplessness he was immersed in.

Downing his glass in one gulp, he tried to hold back memories. Those memories that once were sweet, now they're just as bitter as the aftertaste of the beverage that was being poured once again by the bartender. Red irises fixated on the swinging waves the liquid draw on its surface, hunched against the counter he closed his eyes...

"Sorbet... Gelato..." 

Humming quietly to a nostalgic song playing on the rusty jukebox, he finally gave up and allowed the memories to fill his mind. There was one in specific he kept with a special fondness. A knock on the door and a soft whisper asking for permission to enter his office, "Come inside" his raspy voice commanded and Sorbet opened the door, closing it behind his back. He sat on the worn out chair in front of Risotto's desk, covered in papers, assassination targets photos and folders. Nero remained silent until his subordinate spoke.

"Capo, I don't want to disturb your work, but I'm in need for advice and you're the one I trust the most. Please, don't laugh at me." A bright red blush showed in his cheeks, his hands were crossed on his lap trying to keep still his bouncy leg, as this whole situation was making him anxious. Risotto just let out the faintest of chuckles, hiding his amusement. He put the papers aside and placed his gaze upon the black haired man.

"Who's the lucky one?" He asked, though already knowing the answer. His elbows rested on the adorned tabletop, fingers intertwined to support his chin. Sitting on the edge of his armchair and leaning towards Sorbet, he pushed even further, "Do I know them?" His brows lifted and the crook of his mouth curled upwards.

Sorbet's eyes widened and his teeth clenched, the feeling like this was a waste of time for his Capo and he was making a fool of himself. For a brief minutes, he relaxed his entire body, as if he kept it so tense for longer, he would start to tremble. Placing his hands timidly on the desk, he replied. "It's... G-Gelato. Please, I beg you, don't judge me and above all, don't tell anyone. Specially Gelato". Risotto couldn't help but smile. How in the world he would betray the trust Sorbet was giving him? He leaned even more and held Sorbet hands between his.

"Don't hesitate to tell him about your feelings, I'm sure he will reciprocate them. I've seen how he looks at you, he follows you everywhere and asks all of us your whereabouts when you're not here. Make the first move, ask him to go on a date with you. Maybe take him to that new ristorante down the street. You know what? I'll give you the day off tomorrow. Spend it wise-" he couldn't finish the sentence as Gelato, without announcing himself entered the room to the view of Risotto and Sorbet holding hands, close to one another. Jumping from the chair, on the verge of a stroke and red as tomato, the onix haired man tried to explain to Gelato that this wasn't what he thought in a high pitched voice. Risotto lifted himself off the armchair amused by the scene and walked up to the blonde's side. Ruffling his golden short strands, Riz whispered to his ear "I think Sorbet has something to tell you. Also, you have the day off tomorrow". Before exiting the room, he looked back and with half a smile, he winked at Sorbet.

Right after that, the memories twisted all their way around, now showing Sorbet in pieces and Gelato tied and gagged. Risotto's chest was sore and stinging. His boys, his family taken down so grotesquely and he couldn't protect them. His jaw tightened, all the rage he felt made his nose bleed copiously. He fought hard the tears.

Risotto came back slowly from his self-absorbed state. His glass was empty again and for more that he looked for him around the place, Mariano was nowhere to be found. He reached for his pocket, only to realize he left his cigarettes back home. He placed the money for his drinks and a generous tip beside the glass and before leaving the place his eyes roamed around, trying to remember every detail of it; the old jukebox playing Whitesnake, the air saturated in smoke, the red and black tiles and the dim lighting that made the this place eerily comforting. Closing the door behind his back, a bright full moon on the sky and the cold breeze coming from the sea welcomed him to ponder once again about going back home.

(I tried changing the format but Tumblr mobile is a malfunctioning potato)

#jjba #vento aureo #jjba part 5 #golden wind #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo part 5 #ougon no kaze #risotto nero #la squadra di esecuzione #sorbet #gelato #my writing