#day 05

[weilaverdui]

Angstober Day 5: Dried and Cracked

Desert is dangerous for many creatures. It is good to have a person that cares about you that can save you.

#genshin impact #genshin cyno #genshin tighnari #cynonari #cyno x tighnari #tighnari x cyno #cyno #tighnari #angstober #angstober 2023 #Day 05 #digitat art #made with krita #Weil draws #genshin fanart #artblr

[darkwingsnark]

Duckvember: Judicious Duck Platypus

It’s hard to stay mad at Doofenshmirtz when he’s busy being so enthusiastic. How are you suppose to punch him in the face if he’s being all NICE about it?

#perry the platypus #heinz doofenshmirtz #phineas and ferb #perryshmirtz #duckvember #day 05 #snark art

[areyouokaypanda]

@angstober Day 5: Dried and Cracked

#angstober2023 #ocs #day 05 #my art

[221beloved]

Dried and Cracked

Sherlock watched the scenery unfolding in front of him. John was lying on the sofa, knackered from work and the full-time job of parenting Rosie, his daughter sprawled on his chest, sleeping calmly. They displayed a picture of utter peace, and Sherlock sat in his chair and watched them. It was late and actually he was supposed to wake John, so they could say their goodbyes and head home, but Sherlock couldn't look away from the two of them. Why did they have to go in the first place? They could simply stay here, stay with him. He loved them, deeply, why would he deny them a warm bed that was at hand, and send them away to travel through the cold night? Why won't they just come home? But no, this wasn't a good idea. John wouldn't like the idea. Sherlock's love was... well it was not good. John wouldn't like it. He made it clear the very first evening. He made it clear to Sherlock, to his landlady, to Angelo. John was not gay. And John didn't like the Idea of being in a relationship with Sherlock. He made that quite clear too. To Lestrade, most of his team, most of their clients. He even had to make it clear to some of his girlfriends. And then he married. And got a daughter. A lovely little girl, pure and innocent, open for the world to impress her. But Sherlock couldn't help his feelings. He may be able to maintain a whole mind palace, but it was something entirely different to erase ones feelings for the kindest and wisest, and bravest human being one could possibly meet. His love survived nearly two years of faceless girlfriends and denying. It survived a fall from a roof, two years of hunt and being hunted. And it survived a marriage, being left behind. But it didn't just survive, it was like it grew with every passing day, manifesting itself deeper and deeper into Sherlocks heart, taking control over his life. But it was not good. Sometimes, some days, it was difficult to live with it. To look at John and to hold back. Sometimes, he was terrified of how deeply he felt for the man, so plain and ordinary on the surface, but the more irritating and complicated the better you know him. But his love had left an imprint on Sherlock. The difficult days had taken energy, energy he wouldn't get back. He was dried and cracked from it. And what love, that comes from a dried and cracked man, could be any good? No, his love was not good, not good for John. Not good for Rosie. John wouldn't like the idea to stay with Sherlock. Sherlock took his time to truly save the image of the picture before him in his mind palace, then he sighed and rose to wake John.

Text me your tag preferences

@angstober

@holmesianlove @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @topsyturvy-turtely @safedistancefrombeingsmart @blogstandbygo @7-percent @a-victorian-girl

#angstober 2023 #Day 05 #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #john watson #sherlock fic

[friendly-neighborhood-imbecille]

Day 05. Banshee & Wraith

Couldn’t decide which picture was better, so I used both.

I realized halfway through drawing this that it looks kind of similar to one of @risayume’s drawings, so I tried to make it more different and I think it worked?

#This kind of looks like those MS paint emo drawings from the 2000s #experimenting with style is fun #danny phantom #danny fenton #Ectoberhaunt22 #EH Order #Day 05 #Banshee #my art

[sophia-codes]

100 days of code - day 05

Today I read about ownership in Rust, that's a new concept for me, so I'm excited for learning it, it is a key concept for understanding the Rust's memory management. In short, ownership says that every value in Rust has a variable, that is its owner, there can be only on owner for a value, and when the variable gets out of scope the value is dropped (freed).

I was missing some practical coding, so I stared doing some code exercises on Exercism.org, It was great because I realized that I wasn't too familiarized with the rust's syntax yet, I really can only learn something if I extensively practice this, so I'm going to do some of these exercises every day, since the next hands-on project on the book is a few chapters afar.

That's it, I didn't do much, but that's ok.

#day 05 #100 days of code #100daysofcode #codeblr #programming #progblr #studyblr #computer science #Rust

[feltpool]

SW calendar Day 05

#lego advent calendar 2023 #star wars #day 05 #501st battalion #behind the door: mini turbo tank #the larger one came from a polybag

[tourettesdog]

My Ectoberhaunt 2022 submission for days 5 and 7 (using the prompts Banshee, Purify, and Infect).

Words: 14,836 Warnings: injury, blood, eye injury, needles, emetophobia Summary:

After Jack and Maddie find Danny drinking ectoplasm in the lab, Danny loses everything but the people he loves most.

#Ectoberhaunt22 #EH order #EH chaos #Banshee #Purify #Infect #Day 05 #Day 07 #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfic #fanfic #dp fanfic #dp #dogfics #dogposts #THIS TOOK SO LONG YALL #I CAN'T WRITE SHORT STORIES I STRUGGLE

[annaofthenorthernlights]

@fluffbruary

day 05 - Twilight

#fluffbruary #fluffbruary 2024 #day 05 #prompt twilight #batb1991 #fanfic #fall to rise #gaston redemption au #post canon divergence au #fluff

[jamearts]

I'm so hyped for the remake, i wonder if it will have Mario walking with a MAP in the Switch box art as well Paper Mario & Goombella © Nintendo If you're reading this, support me on Ko-fi if you want <3 https://ko-fi.com/jamearts

Posted using PostyBirb

#jamearts #paper mario #goombella #map #inktober 2023 #inktober #day 05 #fanart #paper #super mario

[plasma-studios]

why can't we ever burn the right way?

@angstober Day 05: Dried and Cracked.

TW/CW: Hurt no comfort, physical hurt, emotional hurt, soul science (non-sexual), mind rewiring (when Nightmare eats the apple), injury, fire and ice imagery, coma(? or something like that). Fandom: UTMV/Undertale Word count: 1.5k

Summary:

Nightmare and Dream have peculiar souls, but it hardly matters. Then the Apple Incident happens, and ah. Nightmare's soul becomes a ghost of its former self and Dream's soul burns itself (and Dream) alive. Maybe it would be better if they just died. But that's the one thing they cannot do.

ao3: (x)

Nightmare had been thinking of dying souls for the past hour. Perhaps it was morbid. Perhaps it was mere curiosity. He had never seen a dying soul before. The sketch in the book had been his first time seeing anything like it. it had been grayed (his eyes flew to his own purple glow, faint beneath his clothes but unmistakably there) and shrivelled up. The folds resembled raisins quite a lot.

He felt guilty for that comparison for some reason, but it was true. The soul-skin was all shrivelled and dried up. It was what dying— not dead— souls looked like. What souls looked like before Falling Down.

Yet even in their prime, the soul in the book looked completely different compared to his own.

So Nightmare thought his soul was very strange. For one, it weighed. Souls were usually light and weightless, floaty and delicate. Instead, his soul weighed like a rock in his ribs.

For another, souls usually took the form of hearts. He’d read it in books. Yet his soul was, to put it bluntly, a ball of purple light. 

One final thing. Souls were usually warm with life. His soul was— well, perhaps not ice, but like cold water forever icy but not quite ice. Oh, and his soul was so quiet. His soulbeat was almost silent, and the pulsing light was easier to notice than the quiet, quiet thumps.

He pondered it till nightfall. Was it different for Dream?

Was it better for Dream?

-------

Dream thought the stars were beautiful. 

They always were, but perhaps less so tonight. The throbbing in his chest took away what beauty he could find in their glitter. 

A bead of sweat fell from his forehead to the grass. He swallowed thickly. The soul in his chest weighed against his ribs. His breath hitched as the warmth, no, fire in it pulsed for a second longer. The red-hot heat was left there, searing his ribs into rock and his breath into stone. 

The warmth faltered, and he let out a breath. The throbbing loosened ever so slightly and he released his fistful of grass.

Beside him, Nightmare’s soul pulsed in time with the quiet breaths.

Dream untensed and let out another breath. His soul thrummed soundlessly in his chest. The quiet thumps were relentless against the bone. 

He smiled. It felt like a crack. 

His soul went on thrumming, erratic and alive. The fire burned painlessly. Well, more painlessly than before. The fire tended to spike at odd moments. One moment he was counting the stars and the next he could hardly breathe with the weight in his chest searing the underside of his ribs. 

It was easy to ignore the fire in his chest in the daytime, where he couldn’t tell the warmth and the sunshine apart. It made it easier, though the fire never truly went out.

Which wasn’t all that bad, either. It kept him warm through the colder nights, and even simmered down it felt like love, liquidy and honeyed warmth in his stomach, like a roaring hearth.

Dream closed his eyes. He fell asleep with the soul in his chest thrumming like a tired butterfly fluttering its wings to flick off mud.

-------

The bite was tasteless. 

Nightmare couldn’t tell what was breath and what was the apple’s flesh; both were sinking into his tongue and then his teeth and then it was bitten through so easily—

The wind picked up around him. He could feel the bite as it went down, rigid and unyielding but a part of him. His other hand forced another bite from his mouth out of the apple and this time he recognised the welt of blood in his throat, mixing with the tasteless flesh and—

He couldn’t feel his soul.

Something cracked his face upon. A cruel sound bubbled up in his throat, waiting for the crack to shift and the chance to slip right out but his back hurt and then he was arched, something breaking his bones and shifting his ribs—

Why couldn’t he feel any pain?

The sun was out. 

His back was torn upon and the thing spilling out wasn’t his blood.

Why was—

“Nightmare?”

Dream was frozen. 

Nightmare wasn’t cold. Nightmare was nothing. He felt nothing. 

Except—

Why was the pain— 

(Dream.)

“Dream?” The word was choked out on croak. “You—” leave, don’t look back, something is wrong, I am not me—

Why was the pain different?

“Nightmare?”

Why did the pain feel good?

Why did the pain feel free?

The sun was out. 

It was noon and the sun was out.

“Nightmare!” 

Dream reached for him but he stilled midway, eyelights the size of pinpricks, a pained gasp escaping him—

(Dream.)

Nightmare reached forward,  hand touching his fingertips and agony (true agony, not the tasteless bite, not the tear in his back or bone) bloomed from the touch.

Why did his brother’s touch hurt?

Why did everything else— not?

He reached for his brother—

Something reached back.

He blinked and—

Who am I, right now?

-------

“Nightmare!” 

Dream fell to his knees. 

The waves wouldn’t stop, thrumming through the ground and gripping him through the air— 

Waves of negative energy, he realised vaguely. Nightmare.

Dream couldn’t move his legs. In the absence of sunlight his his soul was heating up, festering and hungry.

Dream was burning up.

He looked to the sky, throat parched and dry. Why was there an eclipse?

“Dream.” The voice came as crackling, as if dusting upon its words being spoken. 

Something in Dream made him stop struggling, stop breathing, it isn’t safe to stay leave leave—

That isn’t my brother. (Is it? Isn’t it?)

“Dream.” The wind slowed down around him. He was choking on his breath and his soul was burning him alive.

Dream looked up, and he didn’t recognise the person before him.

Oh, he thought dimly. Nightmare ate an apple.

Dream was accustomed to his soul burning up. 

He would not wake up for the next six hundred years.

This time, it burnt out.

-------

Dream’s soul was not shrivelled or dried. Dream’s soul wasn’t dead yet, it was still dying. 

It would never truly die. It had turned to stone, and stone has no life. It simply is.

Nightmare could destroy it, though. Break the stone into crumbling pieces of dust.

(Did he even want Dream to die?)

The world was different. The world felt warped. Pain felt sweet and hope tasted bitter. Guilt tasted honeyed and regret even sweeter. 

His blood ran free and his soul felt like nothing.

If he’d looked a little closer, he would’ve seen the slightest crack in the dim gold.

He looked up to the eclipse. He wasn’t smiling; it was as if he had forgotten how to.

In time, he would forget the cold too. He would not feel his soul for centuries. He would forget the still serenity of a quiet soulbeat. He would forget the languidness of his old soul. Nightmare was no longer himself.

But the soul would still weigh in his chest, like nothing at all.

He would summon his own soul later and see the dry soul-skin at the edges, as if starved of life and falling apart at the edges. 

And he would feel the sunkissed revolt in his throat.

-------

“Do you ever wonder what’d it be like without it?” Dream asked a lifetime ago.Nightmare paused, a finger hooked and ready for the page turn. “Without it?” 

“Our souls. As in, you know.” Dream yawned. “What if we had normal souls? Lighter souls, less ball and more heart-shaped.”

“Like,” His eyebrows scrunched up. “Weightless?”

“Maybe not that much,” He amended. “Just less heavy. Less hot. Less cold for you, too.”“Ah.” Nightmare hummed. “I wouldn’t mind that. If only just for curiosity’s sake.”

Dream nodded, “A soul. A normal soul. Just like everyone else’s.”

“Sounds different.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Eh. Maybe.” And he went back to his book, and that was the end of it, a lifetime ago.

-------

Dream woke up with dust in his mouth. 

The sun wasn’t shining, but the eclipse had long ended. It seemed there was simply no sun left to sun for him.

He felt nothing but hollow. His brother wasn’t here. How long had it been?

Perhaps it would be better if he was already dead. Dried soulskin, sunken soul, dimmed light. He already had a crack in his soul. It wouldn’t be difficult to split it wide upon, for a normal soul. 

But his soul was different. His soul wasn’t normal. His soul wasn’t mortal.

He didn’t know how to feel when the trickles of heat started up again, flowing through the gaps and veins somewhere in the golden mass of light. 

-------

Dream would meet Nightmare in another place, another time, and think, my brother died before me that day, didn’t he?

-------

Normal, no, mortal souls dry up and crack with even just age. Their souls were different. If put under pressure and still youthful, maybe they would shrivel up a little or crack here and there. But they would never perish. 

So Dream would have to keep on burning.

And Nightmare, Nightmare—

Nightmare was already dead. He was long dead, with his dry soul-skin and soul starved of life and falling apart at the edges. 

Not a single part of him was alive that wasn’t decaying.

-------

Dream learnt to burn silently, just like how Nightmare used to ponder silently under that tree. 

#angstober 2023 #angstober #angstober 2023 day 05 #angstober 2023 day 5 #day 5 #day 05 #writing #writing challenge #utmv fanfic #utmv fanfiction #dream sans #dreamtale #nightmare sans #dream and nightmare #dreamtale fanfic #dreamtale fanfiction

[captshipper]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, all the other characters are barely there Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Peter Parker, Beta Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta, 'cause this is an underpreciated ship dynamic!, Aged-Up Peter Parker, Dead Tony Stark, Mates, Alternate Universe, the other half was dusted AU, Time Loop, Hurt No Comfort, Unhappy Ending, Heavy Angst, there's no happiness here Series: Part 14 of captshipper's Starker & Peter Parker fanfics, Part 14 of events, challenges & bingo cards Summary:

he's told who survived, not enough people. half of the universe is gone, and there was many casualities. accidents caused by drivers and pilots simply dissappearing, doctors in the middle of surgeries, that kind of thing.

it's a little blessing, he thinks, when he comes home and Aunt May, Ned and MJ are still there. most of his classmates made it.

but Tony didn't.

or: the other half is dusted instead, and every time Peter tries to save Tony, he still dies and Peter keeps getting worse.

@amonthofwhump's winter whumperland 2023: day 05. time loop

#amow winter whumperland 2023 #day 05 #peter parker whump #unhappy ending #starker #starker fanfiction #tony's dead but it's still starker

[blessyourhondahurley]

A Perfect Disaster

The morning after a truly stellar one-night stand, Cas belatedly discovers a serious problem.

Suptober prompt: A Perfect Disaster Flufftober prompt: "Oh no, you’re a Morning Person!" Fictober prompt: "No, anything but that." Inktober prompt: Flame

(Read on AO3)

Cas wakes slowly, drifting up from a deep well of sleep. He becomes aware of his situation in stages: I'm in bed... I'm not in my bed... This bed smells great... These blankets are so warm... There's a cool spot next to me... Dean.

Despite his tendency to repeatedly punch his snooze alarm each morning, there are a select few things that can drag Cas out of bed immediately upon awakening. Visible flames are one. The pleasant soreness of his body, his memories of last night, his desire to see and touch and kiss Dean again as soon as possible? That's another.

Throwing back the blankets with a wistful sigh, he grabs a t-shirt off the floor and ambles down the hall, following the sound of a radio, and someone singing along.

In the kitchen, he finds bright sunshine, and Dean. He's dressed only in his boxers, his back to the doorway. His hands are busy with a skillet on the stove. His hips are bopping to the slow beat of the song. His back is laced with freckles. Even barely awake as he is, his brain still struggling to come online so early in the day, Cas is dazzled by the scene. They'd met last night in a smoky bar, tumbled into Dean's bed in a haze of tequila and lust. In the sunlight, Dean's even more breathtakingly beautiful than Cas had realized.

He shuffles up behind Dean and wraps his arms around the slight softness of his waist, clasping his hands across the belly he'd sucked love bites into last night. This much effort in the morning is exhausting. He rests his forehead on Dean's shoulder and whines, “Coffee?”

Dean slides a perfectly golden pancake out of the skillet and onto a stack plated next to the stove. He knocks the side of his head against Cas's ear and chuckles.

“Hey sexy,” he says softly. “Perfect timing. Thought you were gonna sleep the day away. Pancakes are ready. Coffee's in the pot. I made it a while ago but it should still be decently hot. Have a seat and I'll dish you up some grub.”

That's a very long speech for Cas to process without caffeine in his system. Halfway to the table, curiosity blooms in his brain.  “Sleep the d– Wha' time's it?”

“Almost 8. I've been up for a couple hours.”

Cas slumps into a chair, and Dean nestles a freshly-poured mug of black coffee into his waiting hands. He guzzles it down, then drops the mug back to the table and croaks, “Another.”

Dean throws his gorgeous head back in a laugh. “Okay Thor, thanks for sparing the chinaware. I'll get you a refill.” The song on the radio switches to something upbeat, and Dean dances a little two-step to the coffee pot and back.

Cas's neurons finally start to fire. He observes the scene in front of him, really takes it in and processes it, then groans. "Oh no, you’re a Morning Person! No, anything but that!”

  Continued here...

#suptober22 #flufftober2022 #fictober22 #destiel #day 05 #supernatural #destiel au

[sasa-chan]

You Only Live Twice (1967)

Starring:

Sean Connery, Akiko Wakabayashi, Tetsurō Tamba, Teru Shimada, Mie Hama, Karin Dor, Donald Pleasence, Bernard Lee

Directed By:

Lewis Gilbert

Genre:

Action/Thriller

Rating:

PG

Run Time:

1 Hour 46 Minutes

Release Date:

12 June 1967 (London, premiere)

13 June 1967 ( United Kingdom and United States)

Synopsis:

During the Cold War, American and Russian spacecrafts go missing, leaving each superpower believing the other is to blame. As the world teeters on the brink of nuclear war, British intelligence learns that one of the crafts has landed in the Sea of Japan. After faking his own death, secret agent James Bond (Sean Connery) is sent to investigate. In Japan, he's aided by Tiger Tanaka (Tetsuro Tamba) and the beautiful Aki (Akiko Wakabayashi), who help him uncover a sinister global conspiracy.

#27 days of james bond #007 #27 days of 007 #james bond #james bond 007 #day 05 #you only live twice #sean connery #akiko wakabayashi #tetsuro tamba #teru shimada #mie hama #karin dor #donald pleasence #bernard lee #lewis gilbert

[angeblancrose]

TRACES OF YOU

Here's the final poem in the TTDP series, hope you like it <3

Context: In honour of this week being “THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT” week, I'm writing a poem a day until April 19th, HAPPY RELEASE DAY! 🤍

P.S. Don't forget to like/reblog, and please don't repost without my permission on this platform or any other social media platforms!

[ poem one here 🪶 ]

[ poem two here 🪶 ]

[ poem three here 🪶 ]

[ poem four here 🪶 ]

#taylor swift #my poem #original poem #poetic #poems on tumblr #THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT #TTPD #poetry #day 05 #aesthetic #swifties #light academia #colours #loss #fear #love #incomplete love #pain #words #lily #heartbreak #heartbroken #heartache #traces of you #memories #sketchbook #all that we leave #deja vu

[babygirl-diaz]

Samtember 05: On a Mission | Undercover

1233 words | Rated G | for @samtember2022

Bucky let out a low whistle. “Lookin’ nice over there, Wilson,” he said, unabashedly checking Sam out from top to bottom. Sam was wearing a black tuxedo with shiny black loafers, and Bucky apparently liked what he saw. 

“Will you quit checking me out?” Sam warned the other man, but there was no heat behind his words. 

“What? Can’t a husband check out his husband?” Bucky asked with a wink, as he moved to stand beside Sam. 

“He can if the marriage is real,” Sam replied. “Now stop playing and get serious.”

“I am very serious about this marriage, my love,” Bucky told him. “Now come on, let’s exchange our rings.” He took out a ring from his pocket and held out his hand for Sam’s, but Sam rolled his eyes and took the ring from him and popped it on his finger. He then gave his ring to Bucky. 

“Not that we needed to do that,” Sam grumbled under his breath. 

“You break my heart, Wilson,” Bucky commented, putting a hand on his chest. 

“So Seth Wyndham….” Sam ignored him. “We just need to keep an eye on him. Get any information we can. This is just an observation mission.”

“Why are you repeating yourself?” Bucky asked. 

“I have to because you seem to always go off tangent and get us in trouble,” Sam replied. 

“When did I ever do that?” Bucky asked, clearly taking offense to Sam’s statement.

“Too many times for me to count,” Sam replied. “Now come on. Let’s go inside.” He linked his arm with Bucky’s and smiled as he led his “husband” into the hotel. They went up to the ballroom, and Sam spotted their target pretty quickly. 

“There,” Bucky gave a subtle towards the target. 

“Yep. Saw him,” Sam replied under his breath. 

Sam and Bucky mingled with the crowd. They laughed, they talked, all the while collecting intel on their target and the host of the party, Seth Wyndham. Seth was a high-level arms dealer who started dabbling in alien tech. That’s what got SWORD’s attention, and they sent Sam and Bucky to look into it. 

As they were talking to one of the guests, Sam felt something poke against his waist and he threw a glare at Bucky. Bucky cautiously nodded towards their target and said, “I can’t tell if he’s suspicious or if he’s just checking you out. Not that I blame him. You look fine tonight.” 

Seth moved from his spot and come towards them, to which Sam mumbled a “shit” under his breath. 

“I couldn’t help but notice the pair of you,” Seth said smoothly as he stopped in front of them. “You make a beautiful couple,” he added. “And by the looks of it, I would say you’re a newlywed.” 

Sam’s eyes widened slightly. “How did you know?” He asked. 

“Not that hard to figure out,” Seth replied. “I am somewhat of a newlywed myself. My lovely wife Priscilla, who is over there.” He pointed at a tall brunette talking to some women just a couple of feet away. “She actually organized the newlyweds' game tonight and I am hoping you will participate.” 

“Oh, we couldn’t,” Sam replied. 

“Why not? Seth asked. 

Bucky quickly chimed in, “Of course, we’ll participate!” He wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist and smiled at him. “Won’t we, sweetheart?” 

Sam threw him the fakest smile ever and nodded. “Of course, darling.” 

“Awesome!” Seth replied. “We’ll let you know when the game is about to begin.” 

Sam pulled Bucky aside once Seth was out of sight. “Are you insane?!” He asked. “What the hell were you thinking agreeing to that game?!” 

“I was thinking, I didn’t want the man to get suspicious of us,” Bucky replied. 

“We’re not actually newlyweds. We’re gonna be terrible at that game!” Sam said throwing his hands up in the air. 

“We’ll be fine, darling,” Bucky smirked at him and pat him on the back. 

Priscilla announced the game and asked all newlyweds to come up on the stage.

Sam hesitated, but then went with Bucky, anyway. 

“Alright! So let’s begin!” Priscilla said. “So couples…. Where did you first meet your spouse?” 

Sam thought about it and wrote, “On the freeway,” as his answer. 

When they showed their answers, it turned out Bucky had the same answer too. 

“Okay, question two… where did you go on your first date?” 

Sam again decided to go with the “truth” and answered, “On a boat.” 

Again, Bucky seemed to read his mind and wrote “Boat,” for his answer. 

The third question threw Sam off a little.

“When did you know they were the one?” Priscilla asked. 

Sam thought hard about it and looked over at Bucky before answering. “The day he came to my cookout.” 

Much to his surprise, Bucky had answered. “The day I went to his cookout.” 

It turned out that they were the only couple with matching answers for this question. 

Sam couldn’t help but smile to himself and do a little victory dance on the inside. He really wanted to win this game.

“Who is their celebrity crush?” Priscilla asked. 

Sam knew this one for sure. “Doris Day,” he wrote. 

When Bucky showed his board, it read, “Halle Berry,” and Priscilla asked Sam who his celebrity crush was, and Sam named Halle Berry while Bucky named Doris Day. 

“Who is the tidiest?” Priscilla asked next. 

“Both of us,” Sam answered. It was the truth, since they both had been in the military. 

Bucky had answered the same. 

They kept answering the questions with accuracy as the game went on. 

“Okay, so next question, when and where was your first kiss?” Priscilla asked. 

That question threw Sam off. They had never kissed, so how was he supposed to answer that? 

“Third time we attended a party together,” Sam wrote in his answer. This was their third time at a party together. 

Again, to his surprise, Bucky answered, “Our third party.” 

So… looks like they were gonna kiss tonight. 

This time too, they were one of the few couples to answer the question correctly. 

“Final question….” said Priscila. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?” 

Sam remembered the time Bucky got him the suit by asking a favor from the Wakandans. That counted as “I love you” he figured. So he wrote “him.” 

Bucky wrote “me”. 

Once they tallied the scores, it turned out that Sam and Bucky had the most correct answers. And they won. 

“We won?” Bucky asked, surprised. 

“Yeah!” Sam replied and without even thinking about it, he hugged him.

The pair of them jumped up and down while hugging each other and when they pulled apart, Priscilla gave them their prize. It was a hamper with two fluffy white robes and expensive skincare products. 

The rest of the night went well and people kept congratulating them. They did not forget their mission, though. They gathered all the intel on Seth and his wife and were soon out of there.

When they got into the car, Bucky turned to Sam and asked, “So…. we kissed at our third party together?” 

“Yes, we did. It turns out,” Sam replied. 

“This was our third party,” Bucky pointed out. 

Sam smirked and grabbed Bucky by the lapels of his jacket, and pulled him closer before kissing him. “Nothing gets past you, does it?” He teased and kissed him again. 

#samtember2022 #samtember #day 05 #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #tfatws #fanfiction #aashnas drabble