Tumgir
nagixax · 13 days ago
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when i say these two live in my head rent free… i MEAN it
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nagixax · 13 days ago
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#Don’t touch her boyfriend
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nagixax · 18 days ago
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how am i suppose to live laugh and love in this conditions?
I love the idea of Isabela's part of We Don't Talk About Bruno not being a vision at all. Like, I just imagine Bruno tucking in his niece after her gift ceremony, and he notices she's kinda freaking out after everything in the day, and like:
"He told me that the life of my dreams Would be promised and someday be mine He told me that my power would grow Like the grapes that thrive on the vine"
Only, when he told her it'd probably be worded more like this:
"Kid, you're gonna have the life of your dreams one day, I promise. Your power is gonna grow like... uh... like grapes! Grapes on a vine! Because you're sweet like a fruit, and your power is- okay that one kinda didn't work as well out loud, but, y'know what I mean."
And then little Isabela asks if he saw it in a vision, and he chuckles and says yeah, because it'd be nice to predict something nice for once, and he hopes that this particular prediction will come true.
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nagixax · 23 days ago
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nagixax · 24 days ago
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genetic inheritance said Darwin
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How To Escape Awkward Situations: A Guide By Mirabel And Bruno Madrigal
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nagixax · 25 days ago
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i don’t know why, but the lesson that Disney is giving us with its latest films is that children's traumas are always parents' fault
And i think they are right~
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nagixax · 25 days ago
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I wish I had someone to send nudes to 🙃
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nagixax · 26 days ago
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the first thing i did in 2022 is reading a bruno’s fanfic, this year looks promising
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nagixax · 28 days ago
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Restless Night
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 400+
Author’s note: I have produced more serotonin for you guys. I appreciate the love you guys have given my fics. This one is shorter but it was one of my favorites to write. Again, I got some inspirations from a couple of prompts. Enjoy!
Warnings: Fluff
Prompts: “Can I stay here for the night?” And “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.”
Seguir leyendo
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nagixax · 28 days ago
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“A seven-foot frame, rats along his back.”
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nagixax · 28 days ago
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*during Madrigal’s family dinner*
dolores: *listening Bruno's rats soap operas while drinking water*
rat 1: sorry, but our love is impossible
rat 2: but… why? i… i love you
rat 1: because ... the truth is that... I am your aunt
dolores: *spit out the water* WHAT????? THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE
mirabel:
camilo:
antonio:
abuela:
literally the whole family:
bruno from the walls: I KNOW RIGHT???????????????
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nagixax · a month ago
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For Eternity ❦
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Can be considered a part two to Beautiful, Beautiful. She is my whole heart, my fic child, thank you for giving her all the love.
Summary: when the Eternals separate, Druig sees his fantasy come true.
Pairing: Druig X Eternal F!Reader
Warning: implied sexy times but nothing explicit.
Druig has dreams, and they are painful glimpses into…something.
He can’t put his finger on it. The past? Future? The dreams seem like memories but he can’t recall them ever occurring. Perhaps they are visions of what’s to come. Either way, he wakes up with a start, his dreams always concluding with eruptions, screams, and explosions that make him shake with adrenaline and fear.
He sees the same explosions and fire below him where the humans wage war. Where they invade. Where they kill. His heart is shattering, and you can feel it just by looking at him. Everyone is tense, secluded at the top of a pyramid, watching, and waiting. Waiting for the night to turn into day, waiting for Thena to wake up…waiting for the humans to stop killing each other.
You remember how quickly the days pass, how decades are like minutes. But tonight feels like a century. The sky remains dark, with flame and smoke staining the sky like a poison.
Druig watches you hold Thena’s hand as you wait for her to wake. He can feel your sadness and confusion, and especially your pain. You both loved humans and watching them tear each other apart in war makes you both physically sick.
When Thena wakes, the Eternals are done. The last Deviant was killed, and with no purpose left, you were all able to leave and lead your own lives. And this day was supposed to be a celebratory day…and yet, you all stand silent. The centuries with each other have moved too fast to catch and to remember clearly.
But how Druig longed for that; to disappear from the others with you and to be hidden from the world. For once, he wants to be selfish and have you for only himself, and you not being used for the mission. He always wanted this, craved for it, to have a life of his own.
But seeing the humans slaughter each other below and him not doing a damn thing is tearing him apart with guilt. He has glorious powers and he could use them for good, for a bigger purpose than killing Deviants.
He raises his hand without thinking, and the commotion below everyone falters as humans drop their weapons and stand still, their eyes white and cloudy. You stride towards him, your hands grabbing his outstretched hand, and bringing it to your lips.
“Druig, you can’t,” you whisper against his fingers. “We can’t interfere.”
He stares at the humans below, knowing with a wave of his hand, he could end this. He could-
Ikaris barges through, interrupting his thoughts, and slams Druig against the stone of the pyramid. His hand is torn from yours as he struggles against Ikaris, his breath leaving his lungs.
“Don’t touch him!” You cry out, regaining your balance. “Don’t you dare touch him.”
“Y/N, stay out of this,” Ikaris doesn’t even look at you, he only glares at Druig.
“Let them go.” His voice is deep and frightening, but of course, Druig doesn’t stand down.
“You’re gonna have to make me.” He stares right back at Ikaris, unblinking.
“Druig, please,” you appear from over Ikaris’ shoulder. “We can’t interfere. And Ikaris, let him go before I make you.”
Ikaris does eventually let Druig go from his iron grip, and you shove him out of the way to get to Druig. You embrace him, your face in his chest, surrounded by his warmth. He hugs you back, his hand behind your head.
“Please let them go,” you’re shaking from adrenaline and being overwhelmed. “Please. Let’s just go, you and me…remember what we talked about?”
How could he forget? How could he forget how you wished you could live next to the beach, the salty air embracing you, the waves enveloping you both. How you wished for him to stay by your side forever, in a small cottage by the sea, where you could spend the rest of your days before you all left for Olympia.
He lets the humans go without another thought. And you knew, in that moment, he’d do anything for you.
“Let’s just go,” he repeats after you, his calloused hands holding your cheeks. His eyes are soft, as always when looking at you, and he gives you a small smile.
“Yes, let’s go, just you and me.”
He places his forehead against yours, his smile growing bigger.
“I’m yours forever, my love. Let’s go.”
So you do. You depart from South America and just go. The rest of the Eternals were happy and overjoyed that you both could find a life of your own together. And so we’re you. You were excited, because for once, Druig is only yours.
Centuries pass, and you and Druig spend lifetimes together in a small cottage by the sea. It’s made out of wood, built by you with a wave of your hand. No humans ventured this far to find you or Druig here, and you preferred it that way. You both spend your days by the ocean, letting the water go up to your knees. You both fish, you both find shells, you use your powers to move the water to collect them.
Life becomes a treasure together, a gift, because for once, the mission doesn’t exist. You could do whatever you wanted with the love of your life, so you do.
You both explore each other. There were centuries where you couldn’t even touch each other because of the mission. Now it’s different. He can touch you now, wherever, whenever, and however. You the same to him. For once, you both are unashamed to physically show each other how much you love one another. You spend hours just exploring his face, his eyes…just looking closely and commenting how beautiful he is. Eventually, this leads to exploring his mouth with your own. Then his neck, his collarbone, his bare shoulder, all of it. His bare skin is yours, he says so himself. All of him belongs to you, and only you. You regain the centuries back that were stolen from you both.
You both fall asleep in each other’s arms to the sound of waves, and wake up to the sun.
The sun hits Druig’s eyes first, and he blinks them open to see you still sleeping soundly on his chest, skin to skin. Your breaths are heavy, yet not as loud as the waves outside. He knows you probably want to be woken up, but he can’t. You’re so peaceful there, so delicate, his beautiful, beautiful Y/N.
“Why haven’t you woke me up yet, my Druig?
Your eyes are still closed, but you could sense him watching you. His beautiful eyes that watch you all the time, unable to look at anything else. Nothing else is as beautiful as you, his beautiful Y/N.
“I just couldn’t. You looked so at peace.”
He trades your cheekbone with his fingers, and you smile at his touch.
“Do I, now?”
“Yes. Do I?”
You’re eyes are fully open now, staring into his own.
“Yes, and it’s what you deserve.” His smile becomes bigger at your words, and he bends down to kiss your forehead. You sigh in content, snuggling into the crook of his neck, kissing his pulse there.
“It’s what we deserve, my beautiful, beautiful girl.”
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nagixax · a month ago
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For every reblog a trans woman gets a hug and a penguin
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nagixax · a month ago
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I feel like a subtitle to Captain America: Civil War could be Bucky and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
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nagixax · a month ago
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i think my lungs are second hand garbage
scrap parts of the last patient
two time bombs, three years left of these bad boys.
she thinks they are beautiful, I think she’s beautiful..
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nagixax · a month ago
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Chiron: Achilles is at that very special age of his life where he’s thinking of only one thing
Thetis: girls?
Chiron: . . .
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nagixax · a month ago
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Blood on My Hands | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hi, friends! I was listening to this song and automatically thought of Bucky. Also, Bucky has some Lady Macbeth vibes in this one- "Out, damned spot!"
Send me your comments, requests, and/ or suggestions! 🥰
Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @glxwingrxse @psychoticmason @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy 💘
"Been traveling these wide roads for so long, my heart's been far from you, ten-thousand miles gone.
Oh, I wanna come near and give ya every part of me, but there is blood on my hands and my lips aren't clean..."
The barley audible clink, clink, clink of Bucky's vibranium fingers playing anxiously with his dog tags wasn't new to Sam. He and Bucky had been on this mission for what felt like forever- in reality, it was just over three weeks. Over the course of the operation, he had seen some unspeakable things, and unfortunately Bucky had been the one behind a number of them.
After the things he'd had to do, sleep alluded Bucky completely, or rather, he alluded sleep. He sat up each night, twirling a knife through his fingers and letting the demoralizing events of the mission overcome his mind like storm clouds. When his body demanded sleep, he'd pass out for an hour or two at most before waking himself up with guttural screams, clutching the knife he kept under his pillow.
Sam's voice invaded the air around Bucky, but it was as if they were speaking on the phone and had a poor connection. Bucky heard almost none of what Sam had said to him, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of blood and bodies and you. Sam's hand found Bucky's shoulder and gave it a gentle shake, snapping him out of his cyclical thoughts, "Hello? You good over there, Barnes?" Bucky stared up at Sam, unsure how to answer his question. Eventually, the right words tumbled from his lips-the right words, not the corrects ones. The correct answer was 'no, I'm not good' but Bucky didn't feel like opening up. He muttered a 'yeah, for sure' before diving back down into the dark, spiraling rabbit hole of his thoughts.
"Excited to get back to your girl?" Sam teased, earning him only an unconvincing nod from Bucky. If he were being honest, Bucky wasn't sure if he was excited to see you-the emotion filling his chest more closely resembled anxiety, maybe even dread. Sam wasn't dumb, he knew something was off with Bucky when he didn't immediately launch into a monologue about how much he missed you. "Hey, you're quiet-well, quieter than usual. What's the deal?"
Describing his feelings wasn't exactly Bucky a talent of Bucky's, leaving him silently grappling for his words. "I don't know..." he began, "I don't think I can- I don't think I can go back to her". Loud, obnoxious alarm bells began screaming inside Sam's head at Bucky's statement. Nothing in the world mattered to Bucky as much as you- not even his own life. He always said he felt most comfortable when he was with you, no matter where the two of you were- if he was with you, he was home.
"Okay, hang on. What?" Sam said, dumbfounded. Bucky huffed out a sigh and absentmindedly let his metal fingers clink against his dog tags once again. "Um...I just- how can I go home to her after everything I did these past few weeks? How can I-How can I climb into bed with her knowing that I..." Bucky's voice trailed off and his eyes took on a vacant expression as he yet again experienced the kills he'd made during his mission. "It's not that I don't want to..." he muttered in a shaky voice, "I just don't know if it's right".
With that, FRIDAY'S voice came over the PA and announced that the quinjet was about to land. "Go home, Buck. Trust me. You have to go back to her- you know it'll make you feel better," Sam insisted. Bucky threw him a nod and walked away, gathering his things and getting ready to depart the jet. While Bucky had his back turned, Sam whipped out his phone and fired off a quick text to you, warning you that Bucky might not come home.
“Just so you know- it’s not looking good. Buck is in a dark place. Says he can’t come home to you.”
Sam’s text threw you into a spiral of anxiety. You’d been lounging around your apartment wearing nothing but one of Bucky’s shirts, waiting for him to come home to you. With Sam’s text still illuminating your screen, you threw on a pair of leggings and your vans, knowing exactly where Bucky was going to end up tonight.
In record time, you arrived at the sad, outdated building that held Bucky’s apartment. He’d lived here before meeting you and still held onto it even though he spent every night with you, fearing deep down inside that things between the two of you weren’t going to work out. His place was nearly empty and always dark, and he usually ended up there when he was having a particularly rough go of things. You parked on the street and ran up the three flights of stairs to his door, knocking frantically and calling his name with no response.
Sam answered his phone as soon as you called, and he listened as you told him that Bucky's apartment was empty. “He just left about twenty minutes ago, you must’ve beat him there”, he told you. With a deep breath, you pressed your back against his door and slumped down to the floor with your knees tucked into your chest. If Bucky had left the compound twenty minutes ago, then that meant you had about ten more minutes till he arrived at his building. Anxiously, you bit at your cuticles, hoping Bucky would arrive before you made yourself bleed.
Bucky trudged up the stairs with his bag of gear and a fair amount of emotional distress slung over his shoulders. He finally reached the front door and knocked eagerly with his metal hand, but you didn’t answer. He reached for the knob and found it locked, which was unlike you. Desperately, he searched for his key but came up empty, and he leaned his strong shoulders up against your front door for support as he dialed your number.
Your phone began vibrating in your pocket, kicking your heart rate into overdrive. Bucky’s name lit up your screen and you pressed answer before the second ring even ended. “Buck?”
“Hey, baby”. Bucky sounded exhausted and tortured, unable to put on the warm tone he usually used with you, “I’m outside. You weren’t sleeping were you?” You opened your mouth to answer, but snapped it shut again as you realized what he’d said. Your eyes scanned the hallway and saw not a single soul, “I wasn’t sleeping-you’re outside where?” You heard Bucky let out a labored chuckle, and from his end of the phone you recognized the sound of his vibranium hand knocking on a door. “Outside your door, sweets. Can you let me in? I forgot my key, sorry.”
“Ummm. I’m not-I’m not home. Sam said that you…”
“That I what?”
“He told me you weren’t gonna come to my place tonight…I thought you’d end up here”, you told him. Bucky’s head leaned up against your door as you spoke and he let out a deep sigh, “and where exactly are you, doll?” He already knew the answer, but had to ask just in case.
“I’m sitting on the floor outside your apartment”. Both you and Bucky were silent for a moment until a quiet laugh fell from his lips. Of course you'd gone straight to his place in search of him while he'd done the same to you. Neither of you wanted to be without the other, and had ultimately separated yourselves in the process. His laugh automatically making you smile. You hadn’t heard Bucky’s laugh in over three weeks, and if you hadn’t been in a rush to get home, you would’ve cried at the sound. “Okay, Barnes. Sit tight. I’ll be there in fifteen”, you told him as you hopped up from the floor and ran for the stairs.
As you turned the corner and saw your apartment door down the hall, your eyes fell upon Bucky’s form. The massive super soldier sat on the floor, his shoulders propping him up against your front door. His head was tilted back against the door as well, and as you got closer you realized his eyes were closed. Bucky had fallen asleep waiting for you to come home, and the sight chiseled fractures into your heart.
Kneeling down next to him, you placed a hand on Bucky’s cheek, whispering a gentle “Hey, Buck” as you did so. Regardless of your calm, quiet tone, he woke with a start. His vibranium hand found your wrist and applied a fair amount of pressure until he realized it was you, and released your wrist from his grip. “It’s just me…” you assured him as he unwound his cold, vibranium fingers from your wrist and shoved his hand into his pocket. “Hey, doll…I’m so- I'm so sorry about that.”
You shook your head a bit and waved off his apology, assuring him that everything was just fine. Standing up, you fished around inside your purse until you found your key and opened your door, motioning for Bucky to follow you inside. With a small groan, he made it to his feet and crossed the threshold, dropping his bag to the ground as soon as he did so.
The air was heavy with a silence neither one of you knew how to break, letting it weigh down what you had hoped would be a joyful reunion. The quiet got to you after a while and practically forced you to speak, even though you weren’t quite sure what to say, “Okay, so we have to talk about this…why did Sam think you weren’t coming home?” Bucky sighed like he always did, once again unsure of how to describe what was going on inside his head.
“I had to do some things on this mission that I didn’t want to do. And coming home to you didn’t feel right after everything that I did. That voice in my head that hates me- it told me I shouldn't...” he murmured, his eyes vacant and downcast. Your breath got stuck in your chest as he spoke, making your lungs feel uncomfortably tight. A small smile pricked at your lips at the realization that, for the first time, Bucky had beaten his demons. He'd heard the voice that told him he shouldn't come home and had chosen not to listen. He'd run straight to your apartment just like you always told him to, and would've been allowed in immediately had it not been for your ass sitting outside his door.
"But, babe...you're here. That's a huge deal" you told him with a shaky voice, "you didn't listen". Bucky clearly hadn't even realized this and you watched in real time as the epiphany colored his expression. Tears of disbelief blurred his vision and quiet, unsteady words fell from his lips, "I didn't listen".
You found yourself reaching out to him as an automatic response, your body aching to wrap him in the comfort and safety he deserved-but he wouldn’t let you. “But I can't-it doesn’t feel right to touch you…” he murmured, “it doesn’t feel right to touch you with hands that were covered in blood, baby. A lot of it. I look down and it's like- like I can still see it. And I just feel like I shouldn't..." As slowly as you could possibly manage, you extended a hand toward him and closed the gap between the two of you, placing your fingers lightly along his warm forearm. He shrunk away from the contact at first, but his deep, desperate need for you eventually won him over, allowing him to lean into your touch ever so slightly. "I don't see anything..." you promised, pressing your palm to his skin.
He'd craved the sensation of your skin against his since the second he'd left for his mission, and the fact that he was marring his reunion with you crushed him under a boulder made of sorrow and want. You let your hand slide down from his forearm to his hand, hesitantly waving your fingers in between his. He pulled away a bit before triumphing over his self-destructive tendencies and confidently gripping your hand with his.
"I know you're not proud of what you did, but-" you murmured, Bucky cutting you off suddenly. The light in his eyes fell as he spoke, and you could feel him beginning to retreat into a whirlpool of sadness. "It feels cyclical", he muttered, "I escaped. And Shuri fixed me, but...every time I got out on a mission, the guilt comes back- the self hatred comes back. And then I take days to dig myself out of that hole. And when I finally feel okay, I get sent away again. I come home to you as a shell of myself, and you work so hard every time to help me-to fix me, only for me to leave and get fucked up all over again. I can't keep doing this- to you. It's not fair".
Desperation clawed at your throat, "Buck, you know I'm here for you. Always. I don't care how many times I have to put you back together...how can I- how do I fix this for you?" He leaned against the nearest wall for support and let his head rest against it, squeezing your hand as anxiety washed over him. "I don't think you can, baby", he muttered with dejection.
You pulled him over to the couch and made him sit down, knowing he'd barely gotten any rest since there last time you saw him. You wanted to fix everything for him- make his life as easy and as perfect as possible- and knowing that you didn't have the solution made a pit form in your stomach. "Are you sure...?" you asked, making an unstoppable smile creep across his lips.
He nodded, and even as hopelessness filled his soul to the brim, he knew he'd never meet anyone quite like you. You loved and cared for him more than anyone or anything else, and looked at him like he was the warmest fire on the coldest day. He knew that no one had ever loved anyone as much as he loved you, but your love for him was a close second.
"Would you just let me-" as he spoke, he desperately pulled you into his body and held on to you for dear life. You knew his issue was much bigger than you could fix, but if you could make him feel even a little bit better, that was good enough for now.
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