#post mission hunger led them to kitchen

[crispychrissy]

Connected - Part 4

Summary: Dr. Austin's theory is put to the test, and she shows Tony, Bucky, and Steve the woman behind the mystery. Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2976 Warnings: Angst, medical stuff, stretching the medical science behind the super soldier serum, discussion of Bucky's previous trauma & a mention of the horrible things the Nazi's did A/N: I apologize for the late posting, I fell asleep so hard last night I didn't have a chance to queue this, and then I was out all day (good 14 hours out and about) so I am just now able to post the new chapter since I'm home now. As I mentioned in a prior post, I no longer have a forever taglist, but I will still tag series specific people if they request. You can also follow this story & others on my Ao3 as well. The series was beta’d by the lovely @idjitmonkey and I hope you enjoy! Please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged in the series. :)

Series Masterlist – Marvel Masterlist

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Bucky made a quick call to Shuri who, after a thorough interrogation as to why he was asking, assured him his arm would not be affected by the magnets of an MRI machine. So now, Bucky was laying down on his back inside the machine and staring at the small glass covered camera embedded in the inside curve of the plastic above him.

“Stop staring at the camera, Barnes, you’re giving off some crazy resting murder face right now,” Tony’s staticky voice came through the pair of disposable earbuds he was wearing to protect his hearing from the noise of the scan. “Might sell these scans to Ripley’s Believe It or Not. You actually do have something going on in that head of yours.”

“As much as I know you want to answer, Sergeant Barnes, please do not speak or move,” Dr. Austin’s voice came through after what sounded like a small scuffle for the microphone.

Bucky blinked several times in an unnatural yet controlled fashion, and when he heard Steve’s laughter coming through the earbuds, he had to fight the urge to smile, knowing Steve got the message he blinked out in Morse code.

F-U-C-K Y-O-U T-O-N-Y

The scan was over almost a half an hour later, and Bucky couldn’t hide his exhale of relief once the table began to slide out of the massive scanner. Confined spaces still made his skin crawl and flash back to the cryo tube he was kept in, but the MRI was surprisingly open in design and not like the ones he usually remembered seeing in hospitals. When he brought it up to Dr. Austin on their way back to her office, she smiled at him and explained most of the soldiers they treat have PTSD and claustrophobia, so an open MRI design was necessary for the comfort of the patients she treats.

It made sense, and when they entered her office and Bucky’s stomach growled for the fourth time in the last fifteen minutes, she tossed him the orange he’d been eyeing earlier before taking a seat at her desk and flipping open her laptop.

“Normally we have to wait for the images to be reviewed by a radiologist, but I’m well versed in how to read brain scans,” Dr. Austin explained, clicking a few times before leaning forward to study the screen. “Oh, wow.”

“What?” Bucky asked, using his teeth to bite a chunk of the orange’s peel off since his right hand didn't have nails long enough, and his left didn’t have nails at all. Once he could see the flesh of the orange underneath, he slid his flesh finger under the remaining peel and began to remove it in large pieces, trying to avoid getting sticky juice on his metal hand.

Dr. Austin spun her laptop around to show Bucky the image on her screen. It was a scan of his head, he could tell that, but the mess of swirling bright colors on the inside where his brain was made his eyes hurt. There were bright greens and blues swirled with more vibrant reds and pinks dancing around inside the image. “This is your brain.”

“Looks more like those posters… the ‘this is your brain on drugs’ pictures if they were made in the sixties, Doc,” Tony said. “I’m guessing it’s not supposed to look like that?”

“No. There’s so much brain activity that it’s likely what’s been burning through your energy and why you’ve been hungry all the time,” Dr. Austin explained. “Any type of brain activity, including emotions and problem solving, requires energy, whether it’s planning a complex strategy of attack for a mission or a simple math problem or crying at a sad part in a movie. Overworking the mind usually leads to tiredness, which leads to sleep, naturally refreshing those energy reserves. Most humans don’t expend enough energy, even when the brain is very active, to require major replenishment. Take Mr. Stark for example.”

Tony looked up and raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes, you’re a very intelligent man, and I’m guessing that when you’re elbow deep in your inventions or developing something, you don’t sleep and will go days without rest… so you find you get somewhat hungry at random times, right?” Dr. Austin asked.

“Well, yeah, I usually keep snacks around the lab that I nibble on so I don’t have to leave to make an actual meal. It ruins the momentum,” Tony said, confusion in his voice. “Pep’s found me passed out over the kitchen counter halfway through making a sandwich.

“Your body shut down and went to sleep before you were even able to replenish that energy via food since sleep is more efficient. So, that is a normal human mind.” Tony opened his mouth to protest, when Dr. Austin rolled her eyes and switched analogies. “Fine, that’s a standard engine, if you will, that can easily be refueled by a small energy source for a limited amount of time before it needs to be shut down and rebooted,” Dr. Austin said, slowly twirling her right pointer finger in a circle.

“Alright, I’m following you so far.” Tony’s head was slightly moving along with the circular rotation of her finger.

“Now, in the case of our super soldiers here, imagine that engine, but amplified almost five hundred percent,” Dr. Austin began to rotate her finger faster and faster until it was a blur of movement. “The need for sleep is suppressed by the serum, since alertness is crucial in combat, so that reboot requirement is easier to put off. In order to keep this kind of engine going at the same speed and level of activity for prolonged periods, it would burn through a small snack, or a small source of energy, too quickly and would signal the driver of the car, if you will, that it needed more.”

“So you’re saying that something is making Bucky’s brain so active, and he’s burning through so much energy, that it’s manifesting as hunger to make sure he keeps up with what’s being expended?” Steve asked, his mouth slightly open in shock. “I mean, I always remember being hungry after mission strategy and planning meetings, but I just assumed it was because I was bored or had skipped a meal.”

Dr. Austin shook her head. “Nope. You were using your brain in overdrive, doing quick calculations and mission scenarios in your head to find the best possible plan of action, much faster than any normal human brain would be able to calculate. It makes you an excellent strategist, but that kind of brain power burns a lot of energy.”

Bucky snorted in disbelief and leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “It makes sense. I was a good sniper when I was first in the Army during the war, but after Zola… after he injected me with that bastardized version of the serum… I could calculate trajectory angles and wind velocities and distances in my head in seconds, didn’t have to write them out to do the calculations. Didn’t even need a spotter anymore.”

Dr. Austin nodded. “Exactly. The serum allowed you extra mental acuity at the expense of more energy consumption.”

“But that doesn’t explain why Bucky’s brain is lit up like a psychedelic Christmas tree,” Tony said, gesturing to the laptop image. “Barnes obviously isn’t doing any kind of advanced calculus in his head right now.” Tony looked at Bucky. “You’re not right?” Bucky shook his head and Tony continued, “so why is his brain so active?”

“And that leads me to my theory about Y/N,” Dr. Austin said, standing up from her chair. “Follow me, gentlemen. And Sergeant Barnes,” he looked over and raised a brow as he trailed after her into the hallway, “please let me know if you feel any increased feelings of hunger or exhaustion. The effects might come on quickly, so please let me know if, or when, you feel anything.”

Bucky nodded, and looked over to where Steve was walking to his right. Thanks to their childhood friendship, Steve could always see anxiety and nervousness in Bucky even when he tried to hide it, like when he saw Bucky off the morning he shipped off to Europe. Bucky kept his face stoic, but when Steve hugged him goodbye, Bucky was practically trembling under the Army-hardened mask he had worn then.

Steve reached over and clasped a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze of reassurance.

The doctor led them down several hallways, until they reached another wing of the military hospital which held secure patient rooms that could be locked down if necessary, whether due to outbursts of violence due to psychological issues from recovering soldiers or to hold prisoners who had been injured and needed medical intervention. Dr. Austin stopped in front of a room at the end of the hallway and gestured to the one-way mirror in front of her.

“Gentlemen, meet Y/N Y/L/N.”

The three men stepped closer and looked into the room, all eyes frozen on the figure sitting upright in the hospital bed. Y/N had shoved herself in the farthest possible corner of the bed, her knees tucked under her chin and arms wrapped around her legs. The photo in her file, and even the video of her they’d seen looked nothing like the woman before them. She looked almost emaciated, her skin a sickly pale that was almost translucent, and her stringy grease matted hair twitched slightly as her body trembled.

“Jesus,” Steve breathed. “She… she looks like those prisoners… the ones—”

Bucky swallowed and nodded. “From Natzweiler, yeah, I remember.” Bucky took a deep breath, fighting against the telltale tingle in his mind of a long since forgotten memory beginning to rise up like a wave. “Doc… is she eating?”

“She was when she first got here, but only if the food was left for her after she passed out from exhaustion,” Dr. Austin explained. “Now, ever since things have escalated, she rips out her IV’s, pulls out NG tubes, and refuses any food we bring her. I’m not going to sedate her just because it’ll make it easier to feed her, we haven’t reached that level of intervention yet, but we’re getting close. She told one of our staff yesterday, in Russian, that she was not going to eat any of our poisoned food, that she wasn’t some kind of lab experiment and that we were animals for not just shooting her in the head to get it over with.”

All of the air in Bucky’s lungs came out in one hard breath like he’d been punched in the chest, and he had to brace himself against the windowsill to keep his knees from buckling. “Fuck.”

“Bucky?” Steve gasped at Bucky’s sudden weakness, grabbing onto his friend’s arm and placing a gentle hand on his back. ”What? Are you feeling the stuff Dr. Austin mentioned?”

Bucky grit his teeth and closed his eyes at the onslaught of memory fragments bombarding him. “No, I’m… I don’t know, maybe? I just… she’s…” Bucky’s thoughts were so jumbled he could barely form a coherent sentence, even in his head. He made a choked off noise that sounded more like a sob before he lifted his head to look at Y/N. “She’s reliving my captivity with Hydra. This… this was after I was transferred from the facility the Russians held me in after they found me to the one where Zola did his experiments. They were, umm, they were testing the limits of the serum, trying to figure out what I could survive.”

Steve’s face dropped and he took a sharp breath in. Bucky’s captivity and torture was not something he talked about often outside his therapy sessions. Steve only knew a handful of stories, ones that had come directly from Bucky’s mouth, and even then they were very hard stories for him to tell—lots of starting and stopping, frequent breaks, and plenty of tears. But here, with two extra people with him, and one being a stranger?

“Buck, you don’t have to talk about it,” Steve whispered.

“No, I need… she said exactly what I said to the guards who brought me food one day.” Bucky swallowed hard, flexing his fingers against the painted metal of the windowsill, the cold against his flesh hand grounding him. “They were testing different poisons and how the serum would fight it off… arsenic, ricin, even different kinds of snake and spider venom. I had seizures, strokes, and my heart stopped so many times I lost count.”

“Fucking hell,” Tony murmured, leaning against the wall behind them, his face a few shades paler than it was ten minutes ago. “Y/N is reliving your memories, reliving your life.”

“We need to find a way to pull her out of this,” Bucky said, straightening up with determination even though his bones felt like liquid and his mind was full of numbing static. If Y/N was reliving his life, even if it didn’t seem like the moments were in order, he knew it was only a matter of time until she would experience how the Winter Soldier was born, how he was forged, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Dr. Austin nodded and looked back at her patient through the glass. “If my theory is correct, which I believe it is based on your shared memories and brain scans, Y/N’s mind has somehow melded with yours. And your memories, powered by your mind’s energy, have somehow taken over hers, suppressing her personality completely. I don’t know if it was some kind of dormant mutant ability that was activated by the trauma of her captivity and torture, or something else… but there is obviously some kind of link between the two of you that we don’t have the technology to test for and verify. You’re essentially feeding her your memories, which is why your brain is lit up like that and why you’re expending so much energy.”

“It’s like she’s stuck inside one of Stark’s virtual reality headsets and can’t take it off, experiencing everything I went through while my brain keeps playing her different…” Bucky trailed off and his eyes widened before his head snapped to look at Y/N through the glass.

In a flash of movement, Bucky grabbed Dr. Austin’s ID badge from where it was clipped onto her white coat and darted for the door to Y/N’s room, scanning the badge so the door opened with a green light and soft click. Bucky, ignoring the shouts of his name and hands trying to grab at him to pull him back, opened the door and shut it firmly behind him, engaging the door’s auto-lock safety feature that he knows secure wings of hospitals have. The group outside would need to find another ID badge to get in, which would buy him some time.

Y/N’s wide and terrified eyes settled on him, and she tilted her head in an almost confused dog-like fashion, her eyes softening with an air of familiarity. Bucky could feel the hunger gnawing at his stomach turn into sharp cramps that almost made him double over, and there was a soft circle of darkness starting to creep in around his vision.

Bucky took three large steps forward, and even though she flinched away at his sudden movement, Y/N didn’t scramble away to try and avoid his hands as he lifted them. Her weary bloodshot eyes were full of unshed tears, and the closer Bucky’s hands got to her face, the more she began to tremble.

“You’re safe,” he whispered to her in Russian, before repeating the same sentiment in English.

The moment his fingers, both flesh and metal, touched the skin on either side of her face, it felt like he was on the wrong side of an attack from Thor’s hammer. Whatever weakness and hunger he’d been feeling was burned out of his body at the sheer shock cascading through his entire being. It didn’t hurt, but it was bordering on wildly uncomfortable, and Bucky was afraid he’d never be able to let go, his hands stuck to Y/N like a magnet.

There was something different passing between them, more than what touch alone could provide. Trying to understand everything that was happening was overwhelming, but when Bucky focused, he could almost feel Y/N inside his mind, like another whisper of a presence, a ghost in his consciousness. When he reached out in his head for her where he’d felt the ghost of her presence, he was assaulted with bursts of memories he knew were not his own, images of unfamiliar people, places, and things flashing in his mind like photographs. Bucky's curiosity was almost childlike, awestruck and trying to understand what his brain was comprehending, sorting through what Y/N was showing him.

The more information Bucky absorbed, the darker each memory became until it felt like he was wading through molasses, each image being harder and harder to move past. A hoarse whisper of “No” echoed in his mind, and Bucky couldn’t tell if it was his own voice or Y/N’s.

A solid arm wrapped around Bucky’s middle, one much more firm than human flesh would be, and pulled him backward until his hands dropped from Y/N’s face, breaking whatever connection had refused to release him when he’d touched her. Reality came rushing back, and the room and people around him flashed into existence, the change in environment and sound disorienting him and leaving him panting for breath, his knees wobbling.

“She…” Bucky looked over at Y/N, who was just as distressed, and watched her collapse onto the bed, unconscious, before his vision blacked out and darkness took him as well.

***

Connected Tags: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @that-one-gay-girl @fanofalltheficsx @joseyrw @lana-writes-04 @gia-25 @klanceiscannon14 @ahahafudge

#connected #part 4 #marvel series #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #reader insert #bucky barnes x y/n #angst #medical stuff

[rerowave]

Hello! Can i have Mista & his crush pretending to be a couple for a mission? Good luck with your blog!❤❤

This took way too long and I apologize but here is my attempt at a fic! Hope you and everyone else likes!

This fic is also posted on AO3 under the pseuds videonasty

MISTA X CRUSH READER PRETENDING TO BE A COUPLE FOR A MISSION OR: FRIENDS DON’T LET FRIENDS PRETEND DATE THEIR CRUSH FOR A MISSION

Sometimes, avoiding feelings will result in lost opportunities. Mista wasn’t one to be aware of that despite his belief in superstitions.

The quaint little restaurant was a lively scene. No matter how many people there were, each table told a story.

The man alone without a plate of food and just asking for more wine? Grieving over his lost wife.

The two men smiling at each other and laughing? A proud couple who want to show the world they aren’t afraid of anything.

The three men talking about and complimenting one of the waitresses? Former Passione mobsters. Passione mobsters Mista and another member ordered to recon. Something that could have been easy if it weren’t for Bruno not telling him who he is working with.

Recon. It was something far better suited to Abbacchio. Though the timing just had to come in now, a vital mission that couldn’t wait. Right as Abbacchio left to deal with the mission he was given. If Mista had known he’d be going on a mission like this, he’d have given Sex Pistols a bigger breakfast.

Of course, he understood why Bruno didn’t tell him. This was the biggest mission they’ve had yet. A mission, that if proven successful, will give all of Bruno’s gang a higher stake in Passione. Mista surely didn’t want to mess this up either. However, not knowing his partner was making him antsy. Though, there really wasn’t much else to do at this point.

“Table for two? Reserved by Marscapone.” Mista questioned the hostess, using the name Bruno gave him for the reservation. Before he had time to react and take a better look at the scenery, the hostess gestured him to follow her. Oh? It seems his fellow teammate was already here. No one caught his attention until he saw [Name]. Any poise and calm he had gone out the window. [Name]? [NAME]? Out of everyone in the gang, Bruno had to pair him up with [Name]!?

Was his face getting red? It felt hot. He forced himself to look away, looking around at the other patrons, the scenery, the wood door that led to the kitchen. He noticed some vining plants growing on the window near the man the two of you had to watch. When he looked back at the table, any traces of hunger he felt had vanished.

Where’d that hunger go? Lost somewhere, along with any hope of his face not burning. [Name] didn’t seem to react as if he were blushing, so at least he probably wasn’t. Or maybe they were just trying to come up with something to say.

His face flushed heavily and he couldn’t help but stare. He was just going to ignore you and hope you didn’t notice him but then he arrived at the table you sat in. “Hey, sweetie.” The words ring into his ears. This will kill him. After the hostess places the menu down, Mista sat in the chair across from you.

His face felt as if it were on fire. Surely he was red. Surely he was blushing. His eyes moved around the room again. He heard you laugh. He heard you laugh and your voice, you spoke to him like he imagined you speaking to him when he thought about you two living together. Something he found his mind wandering to quite often, not that he’d ever say it aloud.

“Something wrong, babe?”

Oh. He was still standing. A laugh forced itself from his throat. Did it sound forced? God, he hoped it didn’t. The chair was pulled out quickly and he sat, staring at you now. A waiter came by and filled his wine glass. His thanks to the waiter was met with a warm smile.

Cotton filled his throat. He couldn’t speak. Most of the time, you didn’t have this effect on him. Most of the time, he was fine joking around with you. What about now was so different? Was it the way you wore your hair? It looked really nice. Was it the cut of your dress? Or maybe it was the light makeup that dotted your face. Who did that? Was it you? He couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen you with makeup before. Maybe you wore it all the time and he never noticed?

Focus, Mista! Focus on the task at hand. Which is, apparently, drinking that wine so you can speak. As pulled the glass to his lips, eyes darting between you and the targets. You wore a smile, you lifted your wine as well. Your words were so quiet he almost didn’t hear them.

“To us.”

He could finally speak once the glass was emptied. He gulped down some saliva after the wine and flagged down a waiter, speaking softly as he requested water. He couldn’t go and get himself drunk on this mission. The waiter seemed to understand, taking the wine glass and departing for a few minutes.

In those moments, Mista’s hands rested on his legs, smoothing down some wrinkles that had formed on the trousers. He watched you, all the while, he felt like he was going to explode. The water was brought with the food, a large meal that he had to slip a few bits under the table for Sex Pistols.

Now that he could speak, he decided to try to talk to you. He barely remembered to sprinkle in some pet names. But he liked doing that. A smile kept flickering over his lips as you two spoke- most especially when you’d laugh a bit at what he said. Your words through the meal were quiet, but there was hardly a moment when one of you wasn’t speaking. He found he enjoyed it.

There wasn’t a long moment after you finished your meal that the waiter arrived once more, resting a small cake in front of you as he took your place. His brow was furrowed a bit, his words sounding hurried.

“From the gentlemen over there.” The waiter’s gesture made Mista look, and his heart skip a beat. The oldest looking ex-mobster was staring right at them.

“Give them our thanks,” Mista spoke just as softly, slowly moving to stand and step to your side.

He made sure the mobsters could see them. Bruno had warned him that this might happen. It was a test, to see if they were dedicated to their roles. To see if they really were a couple. It meant that the targets were suspicious. You lifted a fork, which Mista quickly grabbed from you. He put a smile on his face, lifting his voice just loud enough for the other table to hear.

“Let me, tesoro.”

He pulled a bite of the cake on the fork. Looked like it was nice and moist, that was good, right? His eyes looked once to the targets, then to your face with a warm smile, free hand under the fork, as he moved it to your mouth to place the contents inside. This continued, every couple of bites he gave you, he’d take one for himself.

This seemed to satisfy the targets. They continued speaking amongst themselves, no longer staring with expressions that made the gunslinger’s skin crawl. He took his seat once more, the smile remaining just long enough for him to give a look that, given what they’d seen him do, would seem as if he was cracking a joke about it.

His tone implied otherwise.

“I never want to do that again.” wait- shit! “I mean- with people staring like that. I’d love to do that again. Except I don’t want people staring at us when we- I-” The heat was back. Was his face red again? He felt like it was red again. You just laughed, reaching a hand across the table to take his.

You spoke softly again, assuring him that it was okay. A smile cracked, his mouth open just a little.

#guido mista #supah-novah-betch #mista #Vento Aureo #jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #jojo part 5 #jojo x reader #reader insert #jojo headcanons #jojo imagines #jjba headcanons #jjba imagines #fem reader sorry #crossposted from ao3

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (21)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  In which the ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on how much you would enjoy it.

Current Word Count -  61,976

MASTERLIST

Chapter Twenty-one - A Kitten In A Birds Nest

It was kind of a relief to realize that the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. You may have handed your virginity over on a sliver platter to him and enjoyed every second but make no mistake, You absolutely hated Bucky Barnes.

“Bucky, get up!” You hissed at him.

Yes, waking up in his arms had been the most transcendent experience of your life. His warmth had surrounded you all night so even deep in sleep you knew you were safe and protected. His arms, one metal, one flesh had cocooned you perfectly, never too tight. Seeing his sleeping face, his expression peaceful and his hair spread over your pillow when you opened your eyes had made a warm fuzzy feeling blossom in your chest.

Then you had looked at the time. It was past dawn and since most days you were woken up by someone walking into your room, he could not be here. He was awake, there was no way he wasn’t. You’d been whisper shouting at him for the last few minutes as you raced around the room, picking up his clothes.

“I swear to god Barnes!”

Still nothing. He was defiantly ignoring you and you’d had enough. Standing over him you attempted to shove at his shoulder but suddenly there was a sensation of falling and the whole room was spinning. You blinked at Bucky in surprise. You were flat on your back on the bed, his forearms resting on either side of your head while his body hovered over yours.

“What the fuck Bucky?”

He didn’t answer, just lazily nuzzled into your neck. You realized with a start that Bucky Barnes was adorably sleepy and was trying to buy your silence with affection.

“You have to go to your own room.” You whined half heartedly.

“You got shot doll, nobody is going to want to wake you up this early.” He groused, his voice thick with sleep.

“But if they do...” You stuttered, his stubble was rubbing against the skin of your neck and it was distracting.

“If they do, what?” He asked.

“They’ll see you.”

“And?”

“That would be bad, very very bad.” You sighed.

He lifted his head to look at you. There was a flash of hurt in his eyes.

“James...”

“I get it, can’t have people thinking you don’t hate me.” He said and rolled off at you.

You were suddenly very cold and it wasn’t just because of the loss of his body heat.

“Nobody can know this happened, because of Tony’s parents.” You stated and he stilled.

It was something you had never discussed or brought up with him before.

“Because I killed them.” He said sadly, resignedly.

“Because Hydra killed them and they used you to do it.” You corrected.

“It was still me. And Tony Starks daughter could never be with the man who murdered his parents.”

“He knows it wasn’t you, he does. He’s not angry, he doesn’t hate you. But the last the last thing his parents saw was your face and thats something he can’t forget. Every time he look at you he remembers it and it hurts him. I can’t risk him feeling that way when he looks at me Bucky, I can’t.” Your eyes were wet as you pleaded with him to understand.

“Don’t worry doll, Tony will never know you’ve been tainted by me. I’ll just be your dirty little secret.” He snapped, pulling his jeans on.

The tears spilled down your cheeks when you heard the way he said those words. Such anger and loathing but it wasn’t aimed at you, it was all for himself.

“Buck wait that’s not what I, Bucky stop!” You yelled the last part when he headed for the door.

You didn’t know what to say, you had just wanted to stop him leaving like this. So you tried honesty, you let your feeling pour out, unfiltered.

“Tony didn’t have to rescue me, he could have let the X-Men do it. He didn’t have to keep me or give me a home, he didn’t have to be so fucking patient with me. He never once snapped at me when I was asking him benign questions every five seconds or when I followed him everywhere, he didn’t make me feel weird when I crawled under his desk or wouldn’t go into a room without listening at the door first. I was freak, a broken thing and he took me in and he didn’t fix me, he stood by me and helped me fix myself. I can’t hurt him Bucky, I just can’t. But I never meant to hurt you either.”

He looked back at you and his eyes were so full of pain it knocked the breath from your lungs.

“You deserve better than me anyway sweetheart. No hard feelings.”

And then he was gone. You wanted to chase after him, to scream at him for saying such things about himself, to kiss him and show him how much you cared. But you just sat on the bed and cried because sometimes, when you hurt someone, you can’t fix it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Eventually hunger drove you from the sanctity of your room. Your heart was aching and you felt heavy with regret and grief. You dragged yourself to the kitchen with a blanket round your shoulders, the soft cotton acting like a shield between you and the world. You raided the cupboards for some protein bars and grabbed a bottle of water before trudging back to your room.

You were so distracted by your grief you didn’t even notice Natasha watched you from the sofa, noting your dejected body language. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as you waddled away. Something was wrong with you and she was going to figure out what.

“Post mission blues?” She called out.

You paused before poking you head back through the door, you eyes red and puffy.

“I’m fine. Just tired.” You croaked and scurried away before she could call you out on your lie.

You heard her get up knew she was following you so. Natasha could read someone with a single look, she was like a ninja Sherlock Holmes. You couldn’t face her right now so like the brave super soldier mutant you were you ran away, your blanket flapping behind you like a cape.

You raced along the corridors searching for somewhere to hide, you obviously couldn’t go back to your room now. You couldn’t go to the lab, your dad would want to know what was wrong. In fact you couldn’t hide out in someone else’s room for the same reason.

“Psst.” Someone said.

You craned your neck back to see Clint leaning out of the vent in the ceiling.

“Hiding from Nat?”

“How did you know?”

“Nat’s the only one who could put such a fearful look on someone’s face.” he explained, offering you a hand.

You only had a few seconds max before Natasha caught up but if you accepted you’d be stuck in the vents with Clint. Who was much more gullible and easier to lie to. Or threaten into silence. You shoved your water and protein bars into your pockets and jumped up to grab his hand, letting him pull you into the vents. He replaced the grate and held a finger to his lips to silence you. You peered out of the grate to see a silent red head walk underneath it and internally breathed a sigh of relief.

Clint grinned and gave you a thumbs up, pointing behind himself and motioning you to follow. He crawled away and since you didn’t have many other options you followed him. When had your life become this strange? You were following a killer archer through a ventilation system to hide from a deadly former assassin because you didn’t want her to know you’d slept with another deadly former assassin. You couldn’t make this stuff up, It was like some lonely, depressed maniac with an overactive imagination and too much time on her hands was in charge of your decisions……

You followed him for a few minutes before he led you a corner that he’d made a nest in and you snorted. He looked back over his shoulder at you with a raised brow.

“Sorry, it’s just you have an actual nest.” You chuckled.

It’s my man cave, where I come to hide from Natasha. And keep my stuff where Wilson can’t mess with it.” He told you.

Sure enough, there were arrows scattered around and piles of magazines and books.

He settled down and waved around.

“Make yourself at home, me nest su nest.”

“Thanks.” You replied, sitting cross legged and pulling your blanket cape around yourself tightly.

You dug your protein bars out of your pocket and ripped one open with your teeth but before you could take a bite Clint snatched it out of your hands with a look of disgust.

“No. Bad Kitty.” He admonished, bopping you on the nose.

You were close to biting his finger off if he tried that again when he shoved a bag of M&M’s into your hands. You cooed happily and tore them open, digging in. Clint grabbed a handful and settled with his back against the wall, watching you thoughtfully.

“So what’s got your panties in a bunch?” He asked.

You almost flinched at his phrasing but caught yourself. You couldn’t tell him everything but you had to tell him something so you opted for a watered down version of the truth.

“I think I might want something I can’t have and I went after it. Now I’ve hurt other people and I don’t know how I could have been so selfish or stupid.” You admitted.

“Is this about you going after Docherty alone?” he wondered, perplexed by your vague problem.

“Yes…..” You lied.

“Well, it was stupid. You messed up but you know you did and you can’t take it back but you can try to do better next time. But it’s a complicated situation and you did what your heart was telling you to do. That doesn’t make you a bad person, even if people got hurt in the process. Those people you’re worried about love you and would do anything for you, they’ll forgive you.” He said.

You were both talking about very different problems but someone what he said applied to your situation with Bucky. At least you hoped it did.

“If one of your kids did something they knew would hurt you but they didn’t do it because it would hurt you, could you forgive them?” You asked.

“It depends on what it was and whether it hurt them I think. I just want my kids to be happy and safe, that’s all that really matters.”

“So if it made them happy, really really happy and it would hurt them not to do it… You’d forgive them, even if it hurt you.” You clarified.

“As a parent there’s very little your kids could do that you wouldn’t forgive. Even if it breaks your heart, it’s very hard to stay angry at them.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m scared of Tony hating me, being mad at me but I’m more afraid he’d just keep loving me, even when I was causing him pain.” You admitted.

“Ok I’m lost. What are we talking about again?”

“Nothing Clint, it’s fine.” You sniffled.

“Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. I have faith in you, after everything I’ve seen you achieve.”

“Thanks Clint.”

“Maybe, if you need advice ask Laura. She’s better at this sort of thing. You and Wanda are still coming for the weekend right? I’m flying us to the farm tomorrow morning.”

“You know what? I don’t think this trip could have come at a better time.” You admitted, shoving a handful of M&M’s into your mouth.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After spending a couple of hours in the vents with Clint, throwing M&M’s into each other mouths and seeing who had better aim (him, obviously) you had finally emerged only to land directly in front of a waiting Natasha. You sighed heavily.

“Please don’t. Not yet. I promise I’ll tell you what’s wrong, but I can’t yet.” You admitted.

“Alright Kotonok, you can tell me at the farm, away from here.” She allowed, offering your hand for you to shake on it.

You shook her hand, sealing the pact and knew you would have to admit everything to her soon but at least you had a little bit of time to process it first.

You waved at her and headed off to your room, changing into your sweats and a tank top. You weren’t allowed to spar or work out for at least a week, until your shoulder healed up but you figured that you could at least use the treadmill. Even if you weren’t supposed to, what Bruce didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. Besides, you really needed a way to release all the pent up energy inside you, you needed an outlet.

The problem was, you weren’t the only one. As soon as you walked into the gym you saw him. He was going to town on a punching bag, like it had personally offended him. Probably imagining your face on it. He stilled as he heard you come in, the muscles on his back tensing. He stood like that for a second before continuing like nothing was wrong.

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t be in the same room as him. Every single cell in your body was begging you to run to him. It was like there a string tied around your heart and he was tugging on it.  You turned on your heel and walked back out but you couldn’t bring yourself to just leave without saying anything, there was something he needed to know.

“You said I deserved better than you. That’s not true. Even when we were fighting, when I was being cruel to you, you dragged me away from those journalists. You could have just got me away from them and called it your good deed for the day but you took me to the one person who could help me. You had my back in the field, leaving the main fight so I wouldn’t be alone. You have never once mentioned what you must have seen that day, when you saw Vernichtung. You came after me on a date because you were worried about me. You forgave me for hurting you and held my hand at my mothers funeral. I don’t deserve better than you, I don’t even deserve you at all. But Bucky, I want you. I need you.” You told him, sighing and walking away.

“You have me.” He whispered, but you were already gone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I DID IT! I got the chapter done! WOOOO! Fuck you mean anons, and thank you nice, kind people who helped build my confidence back up. All the private mesages and anonymous kind words made me feel supported. 

Next Time On Name Calling - Reader and the girls go to the farm and reader finally meets a chicken. 

I write Clint as a weird blend of MCU Clint and comic Clint, I don’t really know why. 

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first@chook007@thejourneyneverendsx@thelostallycat@inquisitor-selvala@the-corruptor @iovher@kendrawr-kitkat@phoenix-whiskey-tears @the–real-wombat@buckitybarnes@fairislesheets@angieptt@meganjonezzzz

@dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty@memanda17@krystallynx@theonelittleone

@piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes@tarastudiesalot@captainamericasbeard

#Bucky x Reader #bucky barnes x reader #avengers x reader #winter soldier x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers is a sweetheart #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson is a good bro #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #captain america #steve rogers is a little shit #clint barton #parent tony stark #hattersmarvelverse

[berserkhamster]

35. If you make one more stupid pun, I will literally stab you.

majestic-grape Hey I noticed you posted that drabble prompt list. If you're up for it I would love to read a WinterIron number 35. Thanks :)

Thanks for the prompt. This was hard as I am not good at puns, but I tried.

[Read it on AO3]

[Drabble list]

"When it comes to making desserts you really take the cake." Tony strolled into the kitchen casually, hands in pockets, his welding goggles still on his head. He had been working in the shop but pangs of hunger had driven him to the common area and to Bucky working a knife with excellent skill.

"This is a potato." The former assassin said dryly without looking up.

Of course it was, but Tony hadn't thought of a potato pun in time so he said the next best thing. Nevertheless he smiled and leaned against the counter casually, stealing a piece of carrot from Bucky's cutting board.

"Don't. These are for the stew." Bucky arranged the cut potato into a neat pile and moved onto the next.

"You're cooking alone?"

"Steve's out. Getting cumin or something like that."

Tony watched as Bucky cut the vegetables and occasionally stole a piece. Bucky had put a latex glove over his left hand for sanitary reasons, it looked oddly out of place on the smooth metal and Tony wished he hadn't done that so he could observe the mechanics more closely.

He liked watching Bucky. At first he had thought he just liked to look at the metal arm for obvious reasons, that thing was any engineer's wet dream after all, but his gaze had wandered over all of the Winter Soldier's body over time. It started with that handsome stubble covered jaw and the steel grey eyes that were hidden behind strands of hair most of the time and went down the muscular and well defined body to those hips that peeked out of low-cut sweatpants and thighs as deadly as the Black Widow's.

But as nice Bucky was to look at it had been his laugh that had Tony in fits. It had happened on a recent mission, Bucky had been accompanying them unofficially for a while, as backup and to provide cover as a sniper. He stayed out of the heavy combat to keep him out of the news if they happened to be filmed, which in this day and age with a cellphone glued to everybody's hand was inevitable.

They had just taken out the last of the goons and wrapped up the mission when Sam tried to land and stumbled over some debris right into Clint and they both got knocked over and landed in a pile of limbs and mechanical wings right in front of Tony's feet as he lowered himself to the ground. They both looked stunned but not hurt.

"Well, that's hawkward." He had said and then there was that sound over the com.

Bucky had laughed.

Tony's heart had skipped a beat. He hadn't thought the pun was that good, but it had worked in finally getting a laugh out of the oh so stoic Winter Soldier. Only Steve had managed to do that until that point and Tony had been so proud of himself.

He had used his new found knowledge and had made up a pun at every possible opportunity, trying to recreate that sound. He had studied Bucky's face closely every time and he always looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh, his stoic expression suddenly tense. He avoided eye contact with Tony as well and Tony knew he had to be close to breaking the man and finally getting to hear another laugh.

"You know, eating oysters can help you define your /mussel/ tone." Tony drawled the word mussel for emphasis, hoping the pun would hit home.

Bucky suddenly stilled mid cut, the knife halfway through a carrot.

"If you make one more stupid pun, I will literally stab you." He said slowly using his very creepy Winter Soldier voice. Tony leaned down and twisted his head, trying to catch a glimpse of Bucky's expression. He was getting close he could feel it. One more pun, just one more.

"Are you going to get a haircut or are you going to /mullet/ over?"  

CRACK!

Tony jumped. "Holy shit!"

Bucky had rammed the knife straight into the cutting board. The board had split down the middle and the knife was now embedded in the kitchen counter. Tony staggered backwards, looking at Bucky with wide eyes. The other man slowly unfurled his fingers from the knife, his body heaved with deep shuddering breaths.

This wasn't what Tony had expected. All the data he had collected about Bucky's love for puns should have led to an outburst of laughter. There had to be a fundamental flaw in his theory, had he been wrong all this time?

"Can't you just insult me instead of playing these mindgames? I know you fucking hate me. You want me to go insane? Is that your plan? Provoke me until I snap? Do you want me to go all assassin on you?"

Bucky said, voice seething, still not looking up, he was holding onto the kitchen counter with both hands and there was that ominous creaking that meant that something was about to break under his metal hand.

"You can assess my ass at any time." Oh god, he hadn't meant to say that one. It had just come out on it's own, it wasn't like he had waiting to use it since he had come up with it two weeks ago. Haha, he wasn't that obsessed with puns.

CRACK!

Bucky was suddenly holding a piece of the counter in his left hand and slowly crumbled it into dust, he looked up at Tony, breathing heavily, his eyes wild. Tony took a step back, holding up his hands.

"Okay, that one I didn't meant to say, faulty brain to mouth connection, I get that sometimes. I have to admit though, I am honestly pretty confused here and that doesn't happen very often, being a genius and all, I can assess situations quickly but you got me stunned, Buckeroo, and I am not talking about the blatant display of strength here, that counter was designer, you know. I thought you liked puns."

"What?"

Tony hoped he had registered a tiny amount of confusion in the obvious rage in Bucky's voice, because then he wouldn't be the only one not knowing what's going on. He might as well spill the beans now because the former Winter Soldier had a look on his face that probably only people about to die saw.

"I thought, because you laughed at the whole 'hawkward' situation with Sam and Clint a while back... I thought you had a thing for puns, that's why I've been trying so hard to get you to laugh. And in my defense you always looked like you were holding back one when I said something."

"I was trying not to snap at you! And I only laughed at the birdbrains because it looked hilarious. I fucking hate puns, most of the time I don't understand what you are trying to say and it really makes me mad."

"Oh."  An alarm siren was going off in Tony's head. He had fucked up big time. What he had thought of as innocent and maybe even ingenious flirting had backfired like a faulty repulsor and now his mind screamed for a tactical retreat. He turned around on his heel and stiffly walked to the door, a nice glass of whiskey sounded nice right about now. There was no way Bucky would talk to him after this fuck up let alone give him another chance. He had annoyed the man for weeks now.

"Why?" Bucky suddenly said behind him.

Tony looked over his shoulder. "Why what?" Bucky didn't look angry anymore, his posture was more relaxed and he wasn't breaking the counter.

"Why did you want to make me laugh?"

"It's a nice sound. I wanted to hear it again.. and I wanted to see you happy and maybe get to know you. Guess that's not gonna happen now...I'll leave you alone, and more puns. I promise." That was that then, he'd have to tell Jarvis to alert him when Bucky was around, he didn't think he could stand being around the man and knowing there was never going to be anything between them. Tony swallowed a sob and headed to the door.

"13 out of 10."

Tony glanced back, frowning confused. Bucky had his head bowed glancing almost shyly up at Tony now.

"Your ass. 13/10 is my assessment."

"Have you been checking out my ass?" Tony turned around completely, feeling a spark of hope growing.

Bucky shrugged, smiling sheepishly at Tony. "It's a good ass."

#winteriron #bucky barnes #tony stark #my fanfiction #bucky has read too much dog rates on twitter #drabble

[doodlenomics]

Food is comforting. Reading about food is as comforting if not more because as you read, you become aware of that feeling (which we often define as ‘comfort’) shared by others. In other words, maybe you had an omelette at a certain time of the day with some things on your mind or perhaps nothing at all, and you believe it to be the best omelette you’ve had. The reason for this, unclear but you just know it. And then you read something similar about someone else and think, “YES!” (because that overwhelming feeling is indescribable so let’s stick to ‘YES!’). A book that did something similar for me was My Life in France by Julia Child with Alex Prud’homme.

Julia Child needs no introduction but if you want to know a bit, the easiest, most charming way to know her is to watch Julie & Julia (again, one of my favorite movies. I love you, Nora Ephron), a movie based on a novel by Julie Powell who as a young New Yorker, tired of the monotony of her job, seeks to channel her love for cooking in a disciplined manner by setting up a blog about actually cooking ALL of Julia Child’s recipes! If you haven’t watched this movie, watch it later tonight with a bowl of onion soup (Julia’s recipe, of course!) or if you’ve watched it already, watch it again- I’m sure you do anyway. I know I do :)

Here’s an excerpt from My Life in France where Julia recollects her initial food experiences in France:

  CHAPTER 1 – LA BELLE FRANCE, PART II – SOLE MEUNIÈRE

It was warm inside, and the dining room was a comfortably old-fashioned brown-and-white space, neither humble nor luxurious. At the far end was an enormous fireplace with a rotary spit, on which something was cooking that sent out heavenly aromas. We were greeted by the maître d’hôtel, a slim middle-aged man with dark hair who carried himself with an air of gentle seriousness. Paul spoke to him, and the maître d’ smiled and said something back in a familiar way, as if they were old friends. Then he led us to a nice table not far from the fireplace. The other customers were all French, and I noticed that they were treated with exactly the same courtesy as we were. Nobody rolled their eyes at us or stuck their nose in the air. Actually, the staff seemed happy to see us.

As we sat down, I heard two businessmen in gray suits at the next table asking questions of their waiter, an older, dignified man who gesticulated with a menu and answered them at length.

“What are they talking about?” I whispered to Paul.

“The waiter is telling them about the chicken they ordered,” he whispered back. “How it was raised, how it will be cooked, and what side dishes they can have with it, ad which wines would go with it best.”

“Wine?” I said. “At lunch?” I had never drunk much wine other than some $1.19 California Burgundy, and certainly not in the middle of the day.

In France, Paul explained, good cooking was regarded as a combination of national sport and high art, and wine was always served with lunch and dinner. “The trick is moderation,” he said.

Suddenly the dining room filled with wonderfully intermixing aromas that I sort of recognized but couldn’t name. The first smell was something oniony – “shallots,” Paul identified it, “being sautéed in fresh butter.” (“What’s a shallot?” I asked, sheepishly. “You’ll see,” he said.) Then came a warm and winy fragrance from the kitchen, which was probably a delicious sauce being reduced on the stove. This was followed by  whiff of something astringent: the salad being tossed in a big ceramic bowl with lemon, wine vinegar, olive oil, and a few shakes of salt and pepper.

My stomach gurgled with hunger.

I couldn’t help noticing that the waiters carried themselves with a quiet joy, as if their entire mission in life was to make their customers feel comfortable and well tended. One of them glided up to my elbow. Glancing at the menu, Paul asked him questions in rapid-fire French. The waiter seemed to enjoy the back-and-forth with my husband. Oh, how I itched to be in on their conversation! Instead, I smiled and nodded uncomprehendingly, although I tried to absord all that was going on around me.

We began our lunch with a half-dozen oysters on the half-shell. I was used to bland oysters from Washington and Massachusetts, which I had never cared much for. But this platter of portugaises had a sensational briny lavor and a smooth texture that was entirely new and surprising. The oysters were served with rounds of pain de seigle, a pale rye bread, with a spread of unsalted butter. Paul explained that, as with wine, the French have “crus” of butter, special regions that produce individually flavoured butters. Beurre de Charentes is a full-bodied butter, usually recommended for pastry dough or general cooking; beurre d’Isigny is a fine, light table butter. It was that delicious Isigny that we spread on our rounds of rye.

Rouen is famous for its duck dishes, but after consulting the waiter Paul had decided to order sole meunière. It arrived whole: A large, flat Dover sole that was perfectly browned in a sputtering butter sauce with a sprinkling of chopped parsley on top. The waiter carefully placed the platter in front of us, stepped back, and said: “Bon appétit!”

I closed my eyes and inhaled the rising perfume. Then I lifted a forkful of fish to my mouth, took a bite, and chewed slowly. The flesh of the sole was delicate, with a light but distinct taste of the ocean that blended marvellously with the browned butter. I chewed slowly and swallowed. It was a morsel of perfection.

In Pasadena, we used to have broiled mackerel for Friday dinners, codfish balls with egg sauce, “boiled” (poached) salmon on the Fourth of July, and the occasional pan-fried trout when camping in the Sierras. But at La Couronne I experienced fish, and a dining experience, of a higher order than any I’d ever had before.

Along with our meal, we happily downed a whole bottle of Pouilly-Fumé, a wonderfully crisp white wine from the Loire Valley. Another revelation!

Then came salad verte laced with a lightly acidic vinaigrette. And I tasted my first real baguette- a crisp brown crust giving way to a slightly chewy, rather loosely textured pale-yellow interior, with a faint reminder of wheat and yeast in the odor and taste. Yum!

We followed our meal with a leisurely dessert of fromage blanc, and ended with  strong, dark café filter. The waiter placed before us a cup topped with a metal canister, which contained coffee grounds and boiling water. With some urging by us impatient drinkers, the water eventually filtered down into the cup below. It was fun, and it provided a distinctive dark brew.

Paul paid the bill and chatted with the maître d’, telling him how much he looked forward to going back to Paris for the first time in eighteen years. The maître d’ smiled as he scribbled something on the back of a card. “Tiens,” he said, handling it to me. The Dorin family, who owned La Couronne, also owned a restaurant in Paris, called La Truite, he explained, while Paul translated. On the card he had scribbled a note of introduction for us.

“Mairci, monsoor,” I said, with a flash of courage and an accent that sounded bad even to my own ear. The waiter nodded as if it were nothing, and moved off to greet some new customers.

Paul and I floated out the door into the brilliant sunshine and cool air. Our first lunch together in France had been absolute perfection. It was the most exciting meal of my life.

  These days, I have been watching episodes of Julia’s show The French Chef on YouTube (Thanks to all the wonderful people posting meaningful content online!). Yesterday, while watching one of those episodes, more specifically, The Omelette Show, I began sketching as Julia instructed her viewers about which pan to opt for the perfect omelette and of course, what really IS a perfect omelette?

Here’s my sketch of The French Chef | The Omelette Show with Julia Child- 

Watch the video of The Omelette Show here:

    The most exciting meal of Julia Child's life. A morsel of perfection, she called it. Food is comforting. Reading about food is as comforting if not more because as you read,

[wellpersonsblog]

Healthy Body Resources

Hi Friends-

It’s been a while since I popped in to share some of the things I’m loving lately. Today I wanted to feature some of my amazing friends doing amazing things in the area of healthy eating and self-love. It’s an area I’m super passionate about so I love sharing resources with you guys when I find them!  This post does contain some affiliate links where noted. This means if you purchase through that link, I receive a very small portion of the sale, at no additional cost to you. You guys know I only promote products and services that I truly support and believe in!

  How To Eat E-Course

My girl Kylie just launched an awesome e-course on intuitive eating! I got to check it out and I love it. She leads you through several lessons about diet and non-diet mentality, body image, hunger cues and more. Each lesson has a video and handouts. I’m working my way through the course and have already learned a few things myself! If you want to learn more about intuitive eating, you can purchase the course here. (affiliate link)

  Born To Eat

My friend and fellow RD Wendy has a new book coming out in a couple of months and it’s amazing. I met Wendy a few years ago on a media trip and since then we’ve both gotten pregnant and had babies. I’ve loved watching her baby girl grow up! You guys know I followed a modified approach to baby led weaning with Squish and I plan to do the same with Little Miss. If you’re interested in baby led weaning at all, this book is a great resource. It’s available for pre-sale now but I got to check out a copy early and loved it! It’s packed with easy, actionable advice for every step of the journey and will answer all of your questions. You can pre-order a copy here. (affiliate link)

How To Raise A Mindful Eater

We all know Squish loves to eat. As he grows and continues to develop his relationship with food, I’m always looking for resources to make that relationship a positive one. I just downloaded this book from Maryann Jacobsen to my kindle to read this week. I’ve loved her blog for a while now and can’t wait to check out this book! You can grab your copy here. (affiliate link) She also has a book about empowering picky eaters that you can check out here. (affiliate link)

  Body Kindness

I haven’t actually read this book myself yet, but it’s on my list. Rebecca is another fellow RD and she’s leading an amazing movement to promote body kindness, which I love. You should follow her on social media to learn more about it. And pick up a copy of the book:

“This practical, inspirational, and visually lively book shows you how to create a healthier and happier life by treating yourself with compassion rather than shame. 

Body Kindness is based on four principles. WHAT YOU DO: the choices you make about food, exercise, sleep, and more HOW YOU FEEL: befriending your emotions and standing up to the unhelpful voice in your head WHO YOU ARE: goal-setting based on your personal values WHERE YOU BELONG: body-loving support from people and communities that help you create a meaningful life

Grab your copy here. (affiliate link)

  The Healthy Glow Collective

Two of my fav bloggers – Lee from Fit Foodie Finds and Monique from Ambitious Kitchen teamed up to launch a great community to kick off the new year.

“It’s our mission to help you develop a trusting relationship with your body, find joy in food and fitness, break free from guilt or restriction and connect with like-minded women over shared experiences.

Our food and fitness philosophy is all about balance. It’s about learning the tools to meal plan and prep so you have protein and veggie-packed meals ready to go, trying new workouts and taking care of your body. It’s about being more flexible and getting rid of the guilt associated with enjoying homemade treats, taking a rest day or going out with friends. 

We know that so many women struggle in silence while trying to find a balance between fitness, food and health because we’ve been there too. That’s why we focus on what to add to your life rather than take away. “

They teamed up with a fellow RD and a certified personal trainer to create a 6-week package of healthy recipes, workouts and more. Plus they have a super active & supportive FB group to help you along the way.

Check it out here for more details. (not an affiliate link)

My ebook! 

As we kick off the new year, I hope a lot of you are hoping to start doing some food prep to help you enjoy healthy meals during the week! Check out my Ultimate Guide To Food Prep to help you get started! For more ideas, check out the Dinner Made Easy ebook I created with some blogger friends. And if you’re looking to stock your freezer, my friend Kelly over at New Leaf Wellness is having a sale on a huge bundle of her ebooks on freezer cooking. She’s the queen of freezer prep so they’re definitely worth checking out! Click here to learn more. (Not an affiliate link)

CookSmarts

If you want to start utilizing meal planning, but would prefer someone else do the work for you, definitely check out my friends at CookSmarts. Longtime readers may recall that I’ve been a fan of them for several years now. Jess, the founder, is an amazing lady and a great entrepreneurial role model. CookSmarts offers weekly meal plans for a low monthly cost, which is great…but they take it a step further and give you grocery lists, tips for what you can prep ahead of time, GF/Paleo/Vegetarian options, access to their archives and how-to videos!

Click here to signup and get 3 free meal plans so you can decide if it’s a good fit for you! (affiliate link)

And finally, not quite related but cool enough to share – I just signed up for this free photo challenge from Capture the Everyday. I’m always looking to improve my photography skills. Lately I’ve been focusing on food photography but I love that this challenge is people-focused. I’m excited for the first lesson and hoping over the course of the year i’ll learn a few tips and tricks for getting some great shots of my kids!

You can sign-up here! (not an affiliate link)

Ok I think that’s all for today!

Let’s chat:

What are your favorite healthy body/self-love resources? I’d love to check them out!

Enjoy! –Lindsay–

The post Healthy Body Resources appeared first on The Lean Green Bean.

First found here: Healthy Body Resources