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magicalrocketships · 23 days

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hiii i was wondering if you had something new about baby max ☺️

HOW ABOUT THIS LITTLE BIT???? Follows on from Enchanted Light Trail basically but it's just tired travelling.

All earlier parts can be found in this masterpost and on AO3 here (although i've got a couple of bits now to update on AO3).

It's You And Me (I Know It's My Destiny): Max and Daniel Go Home

Max doesn't fall asleep on the plane until they're fifteen minutes away from landing in Nice, which means that Daniel has to try and fumble Max's seatbelt around him without waking him up under the steward's watchful eye, and deal with a crotchety and tired Max as they get off the plane and wait for their luggage and try and gather it all together onto one trolley.

It's exhausting. Max is exhausted, and Daniel hasn't been sleeping well in weeks, and Daniel has all of his stuff and grown up Max's stuff and Max's seven year old stuff and Max's toddler stuff for the 36 hours he spent as Daniel's chunky three year old shadow. He's got their hand luggage and Max's backpack and emergency clothes for if Max got big or got smaller. Max's replacement stuffed Pikachu found himself on the floor in the departure lounge, none of the outlets had food Max wanted to eat, their flight was unnecessarily complicated, time-wise, and Christian couldn't hide his displeasure that Daniel was taking Max home and Max hadn't miraculously woken up big again.

His head hurts. It really hurts, and he's got no fucking idea where the paracetamol is. It's in one of these bags. Somewhere.

"Can we go yet?" Max asks, clinging on to Daniel's coat. "Why can't we go yet?"

"I think we're still waiting for one more bag, baby," Daniel says, but part of him just wants to leave it here in the airport, go home and collapse face first into the sheets.

"No," Max says.

"Yeah," Daniel says, even though he can see Max is gearing up to lose it. It hasn't been bad, staying with Christian and Geri over new year, but it's been different. Max hasn't liked having to share Daniel with anyone, and he hasn't liked that he had none of his own things. Max likes his own things. He likes his little drawer where he keeps all of his special things (and sometimes Pikachu, when Daniel really likes to sob on the inside). The new Pikachu has been grudgingly accepted but it isn't Max's Pikachu. It doesn't smell right. Max says it feels wrong when he rubs it against his cheek. Daniel could well agree but he's too tired.

One more bag.

Their bag rolls around. He dumps it on the top of the trolley. God, he can't remember where he parked his car. Max is looking like he's going to cry.

"Piggy back?" Daniel asks hopefully once they're finally through customs and Max is tearful and noticeably hanging on by a thread. Max nods so sadly that Daniel's fairly certain no one has ever looked sadder about anything. He hefts him up onto his back, and Max half chokes him as Daniel pushes their stupid overflowing trolley in the general direction of where he thinks his car is.

He finds the car on the third try, and then has to shove everything into the boot and away. Max doesn't want to be in the car and he doesn't want this Pikachu and he wants to be at home and in his own clothes and hugging his own Pikachu and with his own toys.

Daniel gets it. He really gets it. He's just not made of magic.

He ends up telling Max a very stupid story about all the adventures that Pikachu has got up to in the flat without them. Max isn't really one for story telling, but his expression of dubious disbelief is slightly better than him crying, so Daniel will take it.

And when they finally get home, and Daniel has tiredly failed to even attempt to get all of their bags into the lift in one go. He's got the three bags that look like they're the most useful. Everything else stays in the car.

Max tucks his hand into Daniel's.

"Pikachu hasn't really been having adventures," he says doubtfully as the lift doors close.

"No, baby," Daniel says. "He's at home, waiting for you."

Max nods his little serious nod. He keeps his hand in Daniel's. "My home and your home," he says.

"Yeah," Daniel says, swallowing down what feels suspiciously like a sob. "Our home."

"Good," Max says.

The lift doors open again, and Daniel takes him home.

#my fic #de-aged maxiel #baby max #it's you and me #fic that i wrote #it's been a while #but it's also been a very long and exhausting year #(it's april)#(i'm so tired)#i guess ALSO just be glad i didn't paste the little bit that's been sitting in my drafts for about three months #where people are worried about daniel

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stuckinapril · 2 months

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I’m finally biting the bullet and contacting a therapist today after being ambivalent ab it for so long… this hellsite has its many disadvantages but one thing I can say is it has truly helped me be less scared of pursuing therapy. Silver lining etc etc

#And to be clear I have nothing against therapy. I’ve seen it do wonders for other people #I think the reason it’s a point of defeat (just a little) for me to be like ok. I need a therapist. Is bc I’m admitting to myself that I #need one to begin w. And I get it’s not healthy but I always liked to think I could handle anything by myself #That was even the whole point of this blog. It was supposed to serve as a conduit for these feelings #And I’m not saying I don’t have a support system. I do. I have many wonderful friends #But I struggle to be vulnerable at all tbh and whenever I am I’m guilty ab it bc #I understand so many people have busy lives & I feel like an emotional burden on them by venting #Despite them telling me that it’s totally fine. Obvi a therapist is literally paid to listen so no guilt there #And I think that’s what I need #I’m not like on the brink of a psychotic break or anything but it’s just little things. I think it’d be nice to sit in someone’s office for #One hour a week and just go. That did bother me actually. I am tired actually. I do feel that way actually.#Rather than just burying my feelings w school and a busy schedule #I don’t think therapy will make me any less of a workaholic anytime soon but it’ll at least allow me to slow down one hour a week #And also not bottle shit up so fuckin much #But ya all of this is to say I’m drafting the email to her RIGHT now .#Starting the day off strong by oversharing on tumblr dot com

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twocorvids · 1 year

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give morty plot relevance or give me death

#this has been sitting in my drafts for a bit #feels incredibly relevant now #im so tired I just want the person who is also in the title of the show to actually have relevance to the plot of it #please. wb92 i would give my first born child #PLEASE GUYS THE RICK ANF MORTY DYNAMIC IS WHAT MAKES THE SHOW— *gunshots*#rick and morty #morty smith #rick and morty season 6

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caranoirs · 5 months

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the black swan !

#this has kinda just been sitting in my drafts unfinished. i’m rly tired & figured i’d just post it #hate how boring it looks but i also think the edit’s too much to go up top #also sorry it’s blurry. typical canvas & image resizing issues #cara noir #my art

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princeofhags · 2 days

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i just finished reading about iraestra so wand of twilight for her as well!

Wand of Twilight. Iraestra conjures a spirit from the land of the dead to speak to them.

FANTASY PROMPTS | @foxboyclit

Smoke floods the altar in fragrant plumes, the familiar taste of myrrh coating the back of Iraestra's throat uncomfortably. Her steps, purposefully measured and slow, sound monstrous in the cavernous wings of the ceremonial chamber. The peace is further broken by the occasional murmur of an invocation or rustling cloth. There has been no order given for silence, but the trepidation hanging heavy in the air as the incense enforces the command. They all wait in the lurch of a breathless hush, an animal instinct to a known threat. Still, so that the hunter is not enthralled by your fleeing. Anticipation before the blow.

Does their visitor scent the fear he instills in the air, like a hound? Does the chorus of thrumming hearts beckon to him like the call of war drums? Bodies, so many bodies for him to open and bleed.

Itaestra does not doubt that he often relishes it. Bhaalspawn are such curious, depraved half-beasts.

Prince of the Blood. A self-given title, perhaps, but she has heard the reverence Bhaal's faithful pour at his feet like wine libations. Their honored guest is heir to a butcher's legacy. She thinks him little more than a glorified killer draped in the dressings of grandeur.

Iraestra does not cower or draw back from him, but there is still an instinctual unease at the thought of a Bhaalspawn being familiar with her. The Dread Lord’s wicked heirs do not know friends, only warm bodies to bite with steel. The world to them is already dead, merely waiting to be torn asunder to show its truest color: the crimson of fresh spilt blood.

A hedonistic dogma. She holds her tongue due to the respect granted to Bhaal by her own unholy master.

She observes the preparations for the ritual with only half an eye, attention commanded by the ophidian silhouette haunting the edge of the room. What a disquieting picture he paints. His height causes him to loom terribly, heads and shoulders above the flock of mortal meat. He need not even draw his weapon to kill half the room should he wish it. Each finger is tipped with a talon that catches the candlelight with each of his clenching hand. When he had spoken, his teeth had stood out vividly against the stone-black gleam of his scales. The dried gore on his scales embrace him as intimately as any lover.

The wicked length of a barbed tail flickers in what may be a sign of agitation in his people, or merely a quirk of the extra limb. His attention is riveted on the altar. She half expects it to catch aflame.

She attempts not to concern herself with his growing impatience. Any fool can cast a spell to converse with the departed; a Myrkulite only does so at the behest of another and the blessings of the Bone Lord. She will not disregard the tenants of her faith even for this Prince.

"You're eager," she observes. The dragonborn has not left the corpse's side since it was brought to her. Curious. He must be thoroughly invested in the secrets it would spill. "It was good that you preserved the jaw. A wasted trip had you not," she stops by the head, only the breadth of a few steps between her and the Prince.

At that, he finally regards her. Even in his initial instructions he had been short with her. "What of a tongue?

"Is this a theoretical or practical query?" Short of the patience to wait for an answer, Iraestra snaps at one of the attendants. "Bone Talker, check the mouth."

Questing fingers find only half of the appendage still intact. If removed before death, exsanguination is as likely a cause as any.

"It will do," she decides. "I am ready to begin." Her attendants step back as one.

The body has been prepared as best they can given its mangled state. This man, who can be no older than twenty, bares the marks of a slow death. The skull, partially caved, rests unevenly on the cloth. He does not even look peaceful now, as the victims of violence rarely do.

She steps forward, hands rising from her sides. Iraestra readies herself to speak the ancient words.

"Alone," the Prince's clipped voice rings out clearly. Not a request. Demand.

Iraestra hisses her frustration. Better vexation, than dread. She knows the vestments of anger well, slips into them like a second skin. Her mouth twists, her shoulders draw tight. Her hands are half-formed claws in the air. She hears the pound of her own heart in her ears.

What is so important that it cannot be witnessed by the others? What is to be done with her, who will attend to the questioning herself?

"Mistress?" Every cowled head in the room turns to look at her. They hear the call for her death as vividly as she. One of the fools is brave enough to step towards her, as if they could truly do anything to intervene. She admires them for their stupidity.

The Prince watches her, well aware of what he asks for. Trust or faith or maybe both. Clearly, he is looking for a reaction. Will she falter, will she balk? Could he make a bouquet of the stench of her unease? He regards her with a snake's stare, eyes cold licks of fire. He does not blink.

If he thinks he can subdue her so easily, then he is sorely mistaken. She is drow. She is Oblodra. Her own mother's hands were the first to ever try to take her life. He will find no easy marks here today. Let him slake his thirsts elsewhere. There are other, weaker creatures for him to gorge himself on.

"Leave us," Iraestra does not take her eyes from the Prince. She does not speak or move again until the door clicks shut behind the last attendant. How awfully similar it sounds to the closing stone of a tomb.

She rounds on him, irritation clear. "Why did you ask for me?"

The Prince is the first to look away, back to her hands and then the body. Iraestra does not feel like she has won anything of merit. It is impossible to tell if he is pleased. "The Banite confides in you. I thought to do the same."

He does not give a name, nor does she ask for it. She wonders at what the Prince knows of her talks with the other Chosen.

"And what if his confidence is misplaced?" A theoretical. Her loyalty is not often brought into question. It is rare that she pledges it at all.

"Then I will kill you," the Prince simply states.

She laughs. That intention is only the natural conclusion of the dance. There is no greater aim for those of his depraved bent. "So you say. Did you not plan to do so already?"

His head tilts in a particularly reptilian gesture. His glittering eyes have found the pulse in her throat, her bare wrists. She cares not for his study. It feels too much like a physical caress, high beneath dress and robe. One hunger is not too different from another, and she supposes they may be frighteningly the same for him. Both indulgences of the flesh, in the end. "Do not tempt me. Your blood would spill sweetly on this floor."

Iraestra sneers. "Cast your fetid gaze elsewhere, brute. You will not find easy prey in me."

He chuckles darkly. "Of that I am sure. I would savor the challenge as much as anything else."

"I was under the impression that there were more pressing matters at hand, given your early insistence on haste."

"Time can always be afforded for pleasure, sorceress. Consider the feel of silk on the skin. The burst of fruit between teeth and the rush of the juice down your chin, the clench of a lover tight around you as they sob your name. That final, shuddering breath that flutters out of the throat at death. Do you not feel the drum of the heart in your own chest? Do you not wish to dance to it? If you are so indifferent to it, I could show you how to listen to it once more. To feel it." How reverently he speaks, as if he is at the shrine of his own father-god. His lids have nearly closed in rapture.

There's smoke in the dragonborn's mouth and anticipation in his words, thick enough to choke on. He whispers with the tongue of a snake, words dripping from the depravities he utters.

As mad as his sister, the shape-changer, Iraestra decides with disdain. The seed of Bhaal is truly cursed with madness, complete and true. It was preferable when he was barely acknowledging her presence despite demanding it in the first place.

"You have nothing that I desire." Were she younger, still a fool turned by a pretty face, she may have once allowed herself to be seduced by the offer. She ignores the answering hook of arousal low in her gut, focusing once more on the misshapen head on the pillow. Reminds herself of whose hands exactly have crushed it. There is much to do before she is ready for the grave. "Now, if you will allow me to get on with this, we may be each rid of the other before long."

“A pity that you deny yourself,” but he nods. “Perform your rites. Regretfully, I cannot linger for long.”

Iraestra does not regret that. She is exhausted and enthralled by him in equal measure. Let this be the first and last time she suffers his company.

She begins her prayer to the dead.

#oc: balam #oc: iraestra #princeofhags writes #foxboyclit #lord that only took me forever #i was tired of this sitting in my drafts and i feel like the abrupt ending to their interactions shows this but alas #glad to have it out in the world and I hope you like it!#the two of them and their dynamic is very fun to write although I feel like it's clear where I picked it back up again oop #context for anyone else reading is that iraestra is an oblodra - one of the last of a powerful drow psionic line - and now a myruklite #got all involved in chosen shenanigans due to her psionics and knowledge of illithids and helped w tadpole research #def has a weird on and off again with gort #balam is my durge and he's batshit and his whole thing is Hedonistic Pleasures? Hedonistic Pleasures tonight queen???#while also being a lean mean scaled killing machine. he has multitudes. and those are 'fuck' and 'bleed it out'.#usually both in whatever order he pleases #but durgetash is also canon in my writing soooooooo #here is 2/3 of the weirdest most toxic polycule #does this count as a meet cute??#realize there was very little of actually talking to the dead in this. or. not at all. but my brain is fried friend #warnings for typical necromancer and bhaalspawn shenanigans and just lots of weird talking #nothing much happens of consequence but i had fun

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pizzaqueen · 1 year

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Anyone else ever in one of those moods where you want to post something but you just can’t think of anything so you just kind of stare at tumblr willing your brain to come up with something witty or interesting or whatever?

#i know it’s just because I want attention or…no because I want some human interaction #but am too tired or shy to actually go talk to someone #and that’s usually a sign I shouldn’t post anything #but anyway it can’t just be me right?#also I have like 20 posts sitting in my drafts but I’m like no! none of those are right! lol

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loadsofcats · 5 months

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I barely got an hour of sleep and I can’t tell anyone since they all think I was sleeping bc I didn’t wanna talk 💀

I might not be a tight sleeper, but I am a good pretender

#they are just people who are in my room while i’m in a hostel; i only know one (1) of them better #but they were drinking and fairly intent on smoking and spilling every secret possible #my tired ass wasn’t having it (legs hurt; tired; slept bad; light still on bc they’re talking; everything was LOUD)#then when they drank their part and all blissfully fell asleep my state got Worse #because the draft from the window was cold and i was sleeping above a radiator #worst possible combination #I changed 3 beds because I couldn’t close the window (it was stuck)#so today I will hopefully go to sleep earlier #I also found out some interesting rumours about my eminence #I was one small teeny tiny step away from just sitting straight up in bed and saying “that’s not true”#but i didn’t want to encourage them; i just wanted to sleep #I actually pondered getting a coffee today #shows just how dire the situation is (i do not drink cofffee)#anyway #lol #it talks #Thoughts

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persephoneflouwers · 6 months

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#@ Louis’ avanger anon #honey I wrote something so articulated for you #I won’t ever post it because I think it’s too much to handle #for a person that come in my inbox and talk like you did #I was asking you questions and maieutically try to prove my point #but I think I’ll let it sit in my drafts #and re read it anytime I feel like the bullshit that happened yesterday is cooling down #one thing I’m surprised is that you came to MY blog #looking for an harry’s apologetical blog… and like bestie Idk what to tell #but you’re in the wrong place ☹️#also aren’t you tired to repeat this chant anytime people call idiots with their rightful name? It’s lame at this point #there’s a funny situation for blogs like mine #because I’m louie to harrie larries and im a harrie to louie larries #but im a larrie to the antis! and I don’t get excited with things that most fandom enjoy #and i have many unpopular opinions and noone that supports me when I say controversial things #you know I just get much hate for calling bullshit out when two millionaires that literally make millions to pretend to be who they’re not #(im not talking about their sexuality. it’s more their image tm as a whole)#and I get hate and lose followers for voicing my opinion #so yeah I could do what you say actually #it’s just that I really despise stupidity #and I get very vocal when it shows #moreover when it comes from people I was very closed to idolise.#*close #let me just write my fics in peace now #casella di posta numero 32

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aroaceofthesea · 1 year

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Tbh what surprised me most in puss in boots 2 (i wasnt old enough to notice when i saw the first movie) is that puss had 9 lives bc here in spain they have only 7 lives so...

#puss in boots #this has been sitting in my drafts for too long bc i was too tired to tag it💀💀#no but im rlly curious bc cats have seven lives why do they have nine in english whaaat #also puss is spanish he should have had 7 lives😔#no ok but this would have made such a cool story he assumes he has 9 like all the cats around him #then he dies the 7th time and kitty is waiting for him to wake up bc she KNOWS this is just his 7th life so why isnt he waking up?#and then she slowly realises that he isnt waking up that hes gone for real this time #this would have been pretty cool to do imo #but yeah vote for how many lives cats have for you!!#puss in boots the last wish #polls #cats #mine

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kalmeria · 1 year

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i have more drafts then followers rn. i could assign each one of you i post thats been sitting there in the box for… from a few days to a few years idk. and still have a few left over. some ppl get long reads i put there to save for later, some ppl get fanart i didnt want to spam reblog, some ppl snippets of a scene analysis from a show i dont post abt these days, some ppl get music or audio clips or videos i couldnt listen to bc i didnt have headphones atm, some ppl get posts that got me interested in the source material but never got around to checking it oht, etc etc. the some ppl includes a lot of no longer active accounts too btw. also probably a few bots i overlooked.

#i should clean out my drafts. done so in the past #but when somethjng has been sitting in there for like five years. i dont want to just release it or throw it out idk #also its tedious and i get tired easily #hmm i wonder who would get my word salad of trying to wrap my head around ta.tsumi #specifically his hiatus and how past him became current him #it makes no sense but writing it down helepd me think and come to some conclusions at least #so i dont want tk delete it but cant post it eother. its just there. hmm

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yunmew · 10 months

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FANTASTIC MUSICIANS

😭😭😭

#Almost 2 hours straight of Ikegai Shun's voice 😭😭#But oh my godddd they are incredible #When kids 'grow up' listening to only the best music and then *learn* from it 😭#2023.06.27 #(Also I finally when to LIQUIDROOM! 😭🙏)#(I'll post music when I get back to the US)#(I also when through all my posts all my drafts (on all my blogs) looking for what I wrote the last time I saw them but it looks like I #never posted it and deleted the draft. I first saw Yahyel that one time I went to midnight sonic in 2018 but I first saw Ikegai Shun earlie #that day performing glitch with soil and pimp sessions - on a beach - with his most beautiful voice. It blew me awayyyyyy 😭😭😭 I still am #Shocked to this day I'm still moved by how beautiful that experience was 😭🙏 Then later that night at midnight sonic I was exhausted at #Like 2 am and was looking for a place to sit down and I walked past the entrance to the area where yahyel was performing and it shocked me #It was INSANE O_O some of the most incredible music I had ever heard live 😭😭😭#I went in but I was so tired so I sat down at the back and started falling asleep but there music was so awazing 😭😭😭 there was a lot #of space so everyone was dancing and growing crazy and having an amazing time and I so wanted to join them but my body was giving out and #I kept falling asleep 😭😭😭 I was so sad 😥#And then Komu_i just suddenly walked on stage and was like 'Hi~ we have a new song coming out together next month so well play it now 💕'#And it was sooooo incredible 😭😭😭 (you can imaging my shock because I had been trying to stay up all night in order to #see Wednesday Campanella at like 4 am so I just could not believe she suddenly walked out on stage for this random artist's show I #had (literally) stumbled into 😭😭😭#Man that whole experience was just so amazing and it wasn't until a few weeks later that I realized the 'something something Shun' guy who #Performed with soil and pimp was the same person as the guy from yahyel 😭😭😭😭)#(and that's my yahyel story 😅 but I'll never forget how blown away I was the first time I heard them. THEY ARE INCREDIBLE.)

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cryptic-rainfall · 9 months

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so I may have accidentally come out to my students (it was almost funny, I was having students write their name and pronouns, etc. some students in the back were asking me for my pronouns to which I kept saying "any are fine" and they kept thinking I was misinterpreting the question, since "any pronouns" isn't really normalized outside of queer spaces), and I am thinking I may have made a mistake. I didn't really mean to double down on the "any pronouns" thing, it's just, I'm so tired of pretending to be cis. I'm so exhausted of dodging questions about pronouns and such and putting on this cisgender mask, it just sortof happened.

and I kindof wish I did it intentionally, but also. school just started and my gender is not something I should be giving students, for my own safety. I got bullied/harassed by students relentlessly last school year and I was not even out (I didn't try to hide it either per say, some kids clocked me but most of them were queer in some way also). the world is not currently that safe for trans folks and being a trans educator is even worse tbh. teachers have been harassed and threatened for spreading the "trans agenda" and some have lost their jobs (not in my district to my knowledge but these things aren't isolated). "any pronouns" may sound innocuous but not really caring about pronouns is not a position a typical cis person has. realistically, will doubling down on "any pronouns" directly impact me negatively? probably not. but will it paint a target on my back in the eyes of students and possibly families? unfortunately, yes.

I'm just, so tired of being "closeted." I don't want to put effort into passing or coming out. but I'm always hyper-aware that being genuine in my gender compromises my safety. I doubled down on "any pronouns" without putting any real thought to it, I wasn't being careful, and now I'm so scared this is gonna make my year harder, or put me in danger even. and it's weird because this is the first time I've [[exerted]] my genderqueerness outside of queer spaces. the first time and in possibly the worst place to do so. I don't know where I'm going with this anymore. be hypervigilant about who and where you come out to. because if you lower your guard you can end up hypervigilant about it in retrospect, which, is just anxiety, but man am I thinking about how I made the wrong decision while aware that I didn't even really make a decision.

#[[exerted]] is not the right word but I can't think of the right one so just take it #this is not a vent blog #it doesn't help that I'm tired and that it's an hour past my bedtime #and my thoughts keep falling out of my head to the point where it took me 2+ hours to write this #I definitely forgot some things but I am already stressed and worried from a million things and I cannot afford to sit here half-delerious #trying to think of what it was #also I need to get xkit stat bc this stupid new post formatting and ''draft saved'' pop up are gonna drive me to incredible violence #I need a vacation #and students who vaguely want to learn

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gottaluvharry · 8 months

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family

carlos sainz jr x pregnant!reader

summary: your son has a few questions about why his little sister is in your belly, and carlos is happy to explain

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Lazy mornings with your little family were your favorite. You smiled to yourself as you woke to the hushed whispers of your husband and your son. As you turn to face the other side of the bed, you’re met with 2 pairs of brown puppy dog eyes and 2 identical smiles.

“Buenos dias, mama!” good morning mom your son screeched, proud of himself for using Spanish. “Buenos dias baby” you say through a smile. He latches on to your neck and you feel Carlos’ hand rubbing patterns on your stomach. “Morning hermosa” beautiful he says going in for a kiss. “How is little girl?” he asks. “Sleeping I think. She must be tired after all the kicking she did last night” you groan, recalling the many hours you were woken due to the relentless kicking in your stomach. “lo lamento, se amable con mami” i’m sorry, be nice to mommy he says leaning to talk to his unborn daughter. You just laugh and shake your head at the pout he has on his face, guiding him up by his chin to give him another kiss.

“Papa,” your little boy starts, breaking you and Carlos apart. “How did baby get in mommy’s belly?” he asks as he puts his hand over Carlos’ on your stomach. “Well hijo” son Carlos starts. “Me and mommy love each other, and we made your sister together because we love each other” he says, hoping it’s enough to settle your sons curiosity. “Like when you and mommy make pancakes together?” he asks, now moving to sit in his fathers lap. “No, not like when we make pancakes” he laughs. “He is just made out of love, baby. When 2 people love each other so much and want a little baby like you, they will make one. That’s all I can tell you” he says, avoiding a heavier subject. “But mommy, did it hurt when baby went in your tummy?” he now turns to you with fear in his eyes over the thought of you hurting. “No buddy it didn’t hurt” you assure him, ruffling his hair; but you don’t miss the smirk Carlos sends your way remembering the night in question. “So why does baby stay in mommy’s belly for so long?” he asks, now turning to look at Carlos for the answer. “That’s just where they grow buddy. Babies need lots of space to grow and the only place there is enough room is in a mommy’s tummy” he responds. “Oh” he hums, taking in all the information he’s learning. “But how does baby come out?” he goes on, his eyes lighting up when he gets another question. “When he is ready to come out me and Mommy will go to the hospital and the doctors will help her come out” Carlos answers. “But does it hurt?” your son asks, once again scared of you being hurt. “Only a little bit” you say, “but it is worth it because then we get to hold your little sister”.

As your son continues asking questions and Carlos continues tracing patterns across your stomach, you can’t help but smile at the little life you’ve created. Who knew one bed could hold so much love on a random morning.

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hope you guys enjoyed this short little blurb:) sorry it’s been so long since i’ve posted, there was a lot going on and then i started school but in honor of Carlos’ birthday AND pole today i figured i’d post something!! might clear my drafts out and post some more in the next week or so<3

also my inbox is open, so request anything if you have any ideas! or if you just want to talk to someone, feel free!

okay last thing, thank you all for the support, it’s so special to me to have people with the same interests reading and liking my work, i want to give you all hugs<333

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buckys-metal-arm · 13 days

Text

Comfort

Bucky x GN!Reader

Description: three instances of Bucky associating someone stroking his hair with comfort.

Warnings: fluff and angst, mentions of illness, period-accurate toxic masculinity, mentions of nightmares, no y/n used, only pronoun used is "you"

A/N: this is based on something I wrote for my self indulgent self-insert OC Juniper, where Bucky tells them the story of the first two memories and then decided I wanted to also do an x Reader with a similar idea.

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1930

One time, when Bucky was young, he was hit with an awful bout of illness. He felt like there was a hundred pound weight on his chest, and he couldn’t stop coughing. Steve kept trying to sneak in to go see his friend, but would be shooed away before he could actually see his friend. Rebecca, Bucky’s little sister, would slip notes from her and Steve under his door as often as she could, trying to remind him he wasn’t alone. One night, when his sickness got real bad, his mother came in to sit up with him. Since it was the Depression, she would be up pretty much every night working on sewing alterations until her fingers cramped and bled. But tonight, she was staying with her Baby Boy. She rubs Vick’s on his chest in hopes of soothing the cough, and sits by his bedside. When Bucky’s coughing gets so bad that he can’t fall asleep, she sits on the mattress next to him, running their fingers through his hair until he falls asleep. She saw how much it soothed him, and from then on whenever he was sick she would stay with him, running her fingers through her son’s hair to calm him.

1942

Bucky was an adult now, dressed in a soldier’s uniform and trying to pretend he was proud of that. He’d just gotten home from the Stark Expo, and found that his mother and sister had stayed up to wait for him. Rebecca hugs her brother goodbye before heading to bed, but Bucky and Winnefred stay up late talking. During the conversation everything hits him at once. He’d spent the entire day forcing a smile and pretending to be brave, being strong in front of his date, of Steve, of anyone who saw him and saw a young man ready to take on the world and fight for his country.

When in reality?

He’s been terrified ever since he learned he was drafted.

He broke down in front of his mother, telling her that he’s not ready, that he’s scared, and that he hates that he’s scared. That he’s a coward. But his mother shakes her head, and hugs her son tight. She doesn’t tell him to “man up” or that he needs to “get ahold of himself”, just held him and assured him that it’s okay, that he’s not a coward, that he’s not weak for being afraid. She took him back to his bedroom, getting him settled under the covers and sitting at his bedside, stroking his hair the same way she did when he was young.

“Rest now, James,” she whispered, brushing his hair out of his eyes, “you don’t have to be strong tonight…”

Now

Bucky woke up screaming, drenched in sweat. He tried to take deep breaths, to calm himself down, but the nightmares that had forced him awake still ravaged his subconscious.

“Bucky?” He whipped around to see you, eyes tired but still filled with concern, “are you alright, Baby?”

“Yeah,” he gasped out, running a hand through his hair, “yeah, yeah, I'm…I-I’m…”

“Oh,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head on his back, “oh Sweetheart…”

You hugged him close, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“Can you feel my breath?” You asked, running your fingers along his stomach. Bucky nodded, “good, Buck. Can you follow my breathing?”

He matched your breaths as best he can, and you held him until he calmed down. Once his breathing evened out, you pressed another kiss to the crook of his neck and smiled softly.

“What do you need to feel better, Sweet Boy?” You asked, “what do you need to go back to sleep?”

Bucky chewed his lip for a moment, trying to decide. His mind drifted to his youth, to his mother carding her fingers through his hair and the feeling of serenity it brought him.

“M-my hair,” he murmured. You looked confused, “will you stroke my hair for a bit?”

He didn't give you a chance to respond.

“Sorry,” Bucky's blue eyes wouldn't meet theirs, “that sounds stupid, but my Ma used to do it when I was younger but–”

“Shhhh,” you slid in front of him, “it's not stupid. Of course I'll stroke your hair.”

His blue eyes met yours, relief flooding his gaze.

“Lay back down, Sweetheart,” he settled himself on top of you, laying his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat. You cradled his head against your body, running your fingers through his dark hair. His eyes were already starting to feel heavy, and he nuzzled into your neck, a little hum escaping him.

“Get some rest, Bucky,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he started to give in to sleep, “I love you.”

The same feeling of serenity overtook him, and Bucky drifted off in his partner's arms.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky fanfic #mcu bucky barnes

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brnesblogposts · 27 days

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His sweet girl

bucky barnes x reader

bucky taking care of his best girl! (drabble)

Why must women suffer? That’s what you’re thinking as you’re curled up with your knees to your chest trying to get rid of the cramps currently assaulting your abdomen, it hurts too much to get up to get painkillers, you’re also so tired but can’t sleep because of insomnia, something you experience around your cycle.

“Doll?” A quiet soothing voice breaks you from your thoughts and a gentle hand is placed on your back “What’s wrong?” Bucky rubs your back as he asks.

“Cramps” You mumble out, you feel like you could cry, not even just the pain but at the fact it’s consistent and discomforting. Bucky lets out a soft sigh, glad it’s not something more serious like your appendix- Still he feels empathy seeing you laying there in pain.

“I’ll be right back okay?” He says softly, leaving a kiss on your temple as he gets up and leaves your line of vision. As quickly as he left he returns.

“Here baby” He holds out two pills and a glass of water and you sit up slightly and down the meds before resuming fetal position.

“You think this will be more effective than curling up like that?” He’s holding out your hot water bottle and you could cry because of how thoughtful and kind he is, he didn’t have to, but yet he did. You nod and take the bottle from him pressing it against your stomach.

“Thank you” You say quietly as you start to well up which causes your boyfriend to furrow his brows in concern.

“Why’re you crying dragă?” He sits on the edge of the bed.

“You’re so nice to me” You feel stupid for crying but you blame the hormones. Bucky smiles at this finding it so endearing, he scoots up the bed laying next to you opening his arms silently asking you to snuggle into them and you do.

“Моя милая девочка” (my sweet girl) Bucky coos as he presses a kiss to the top of your head where it lay on his chest “you’re too sweet for this world” He whispers.

The hot water bottle is surely heating bucky up as well but he doesn’t mind, as long as it’s helping ease your pain.

“Thank you for caring for me” You say sweetly in your emotional state.

“Always dollface, always.” He’s stroking your arm as you start to feel drowsy now that the hot water bottle and painkillers have helped with the pain. Before long you’re sleeping peacefully in Bucky’s arms.

“Sleep well pretty girl” Bucky whispers as he hears your breathes even out, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

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reblogs appreciated!!

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this is me avoiding the WIP in my drafts! anyways reply to be on a permanent bucky tag list ! :)

#bucky barnes #writerblr #bucky barnes x reader #avengers x reader #avengers #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes comfort fic #bucky barnes x period reader

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