In the au where the asset, the kid, and Bucky are all three separate bodies, I am just imagining the asset having a meltdown and going to hide in one of the closets so he can be in a small, confined area. He still likes small areas, gets wary when there’s so much wide open space (too many variables, too much potential for missions)

Shaking and trying to calm his mind which is so loud, so active and too much, he’s still not used to it, and he got used to being able to be a non-entity. Before the three of them split apart, it was Bucky or it was the kid doing all the interactions. The asset got to be a toy, in charge of absolutely nothing beyond the paranoid thoughts of a bear. And now? Now he’s in charge of his own body, in charge of what he says and what he does, and what his thoughts do. His thoughts have consequences now. Again. 

So when he’s overwhelmed, he goes to the closet. So he doesn’t have to do or think beyond working out one problem at a time. He just shakes in the dark and waits out when his brain won’t be so overloaded. 

And in my mind, one of these times, the kid is looking for the Asset when he’s hiding, because he wants a story (And I think now that they’re in separate bodies, they’re in the bodies they should be, so the kid is actually five years old) and eventually sees the closet door closed, and comes up to it and just slides the book under the door and goes “You don’ have to if you don’ wanna. But stories can help.” All tiny and cute.

There’s nothing, no sound for a good long three minutes, and Bucky’s tiny kid attention span is about to crack when the closet door opens and the Asset’s metal hand is reaching out to take the tiny pudgy five year old one. And then he pulls the kid to his lap and hugs him for a good minute. 

He looks like shit- scraggly hair and nearly a beard, clothes from two days prior and haunted, sleepless eyes, but he’s going to read a fucking story to the kid, and it does make him feel better. 

At least, it gets him to stop thinking, and start prioritizing the child over his own issues. And he’s certain that’s much more important.



Alexander McQueen A/W 2009 “The Horn of Plenty”

Alexander McQueen’s Autumn/Winter show in 2009, titled “The Horn of Plenty”, was nothing short of a masterpiece. A self-aware fashion retrospective, McQueen layered the history of his own design legacy with classic couture designs famous in the fashion world, such as the Christian Dior New Look houndstooth, and Chanel tweed. All of this was centered on the juxtaposition of extreme glamour vs. trash. In fact, the centerpiece for the runway was a large pile of ‘trash’, composed of pieces from Lee’s earlier runway collections, spray-painted black.

Models were made up in a terrifying style- lips over-drawn and skin painted white, with no eyebrows or lashes to speak of. It was a reference to Terry Gilliam’s “Brazil”, and an effective social commentary. The models also wore sculptural trash on their heads– everything from plastic bags to umbrellas to lampshades– all meticulously coordinated with the outfits worn with them.

The clothes were at a couturier’s level, undoubtedly. McQueen’s short tenure at the French couture house of Givenchy had given him the skills to cut elaborate ballgowns out of plastic bag material, and seamlessly present bird designs (his signature, in an MC Escher design)  under a skirt covered in red bird feathers. Birds were, in fact, a centerpiece of the design theme, with the collection’s closing being two feathered concoctions: one in white, with the collar reaching high over the model’s shoulders, and the other in sleek black, with wings bursting out the sides. McQueen had reached the ultimate level of ingenuity and craftsmanship with this collection, which he maintained until his suicide in February of 2010.


Found a video of Romeo :3

Originally posted by winchestersoldier

Imagine being Pierce’s daughter and not knowing what he’s doing, but one night you walk in to find the Winter Soldier in your kitchen.

——— Request for anon ———

You should have been asleep. It was ridiculously late. At this point you supposed it could be considered ridiculously early. Usually your father worked all night. After all, he was a busy man. Running SHIELD would keep anyone busy.

So when you had initially entered the kitchen, you’d thought it strange that you’re father was rummaging through the fridge. It took a good look to realize that the man standing before you was not Alexander Pierce.

His hand was over your mouth before you could scream. Cold metal pressing against your lips as his brown eyes bore into your own. His brow furrowed as he studied your face before realization covered his features. He let you go. You turned to reach for the phone, intent on calling your dad.

When you turned back the soldier was gone.