#you can reblog this I’m just not tagging it

[thatswhatsushesaid]

how dare you diminish jin guangshan's contribution to the narrative. what is wrong with you. have you no shame

#jin guangshan (derogatory) #editing to add: just in the event that anyone finds OP #they intended this to be a joke and it flopped #and i can definitely understand trying to make a funny that then communicates the exact opposite of the thing #anyway there’s no point in my deleting this because it’s already been reblogged a bunch #but i’m adding this note into my tags for clarity #OP if you do see this (i hope you don’t honestly) then i’m sorry my hair-trigger reflex about jgy hate in the tags #caught you in the crossfire

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: I can't explain why but damn I'm so tiredddd.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you approach the capital, you can’t help but poke your head up to admire the domes of the great castle and the high towers. The gates stand open as the party advances, in wait of their new liege and lord. You shield your eyes against the sun as you gaze at the silhouette of the mighty architecture. 

“May as well get a good gander,” Bryce says, “doubt the kitchens are any more glorious than the ones you know.” 

“Mm,” you retract your gaze and sigh, “suppose. But they will still be new to me.” 

“Not all that is new is wondrous,” he girds. “For as much as I’ve seen in this world, it is the familiar that keeps me sane.” 

You nod and let the cart rock you. Ahead of you, the horses tread over rocks and dirt, wagons bounce and creak, and some servants walk afoot to ease the cramps in their legs. You lean lazily on a chest and fold your hands in your lap. It will at least be nice to stay beneath a proper roof again. 

The streets of the city are crowded with faces. They do not holler for you but you can hear the raucous uproar ahead as the king and queen ride between the citizens. There are even more black and grey soldiers stationed along the roads, awaiting your arrival. 

As you wind up to the royal castle, the noise grows tantamount. At the walls of the grand structure, clusters of people threaten to crush the party between their writhing bodies. It takes some time after the king’s entrance for the luggage to make way into the courtyard. 

The carts depart around the back of the castle as the horses make way for the stables. You climb out as Bryce lurks around, dismounting Daisy with a grunt as he rubs his lower back. You glance over at him as the other servants quickly fall into work. 

“Maid,” he calls to you before you can follow suit, “no doubt the queen will need to wash away the road before she faces the hordes.” 

He beckons you forth with his gauntlet and you diligently near him. He hands off Daisy to a castle servant and carries on inside. You scurry beside him as he stops and gauges his surroundings. He is not versed with the corridors but he presses on unimpeded. 

You turn back a few times before you reach the great hall. It is crowded and chaotic. The soldier strides through without pause. You nearly grab onto him just to keep from being lost in the stirring of soldiers and servants, and the tittering lords and ladies in their colourful garb. 

Up the stairs and a few questions grunted to his comrades, Bryce takes you down to a set of chambers with yet another soldier before it. You’re let inside without question. You find Queen Jazlene before a steaming basin as another servant cleans her face. 

The queen scrunches up her nose and swats the lady servant, the maid still in the former king’s colours; burnt autumn orange and goldenrod yellow. 

“Watch my eyes, you moron,” Jazlene chides and jabs her nail into the maid’s ribs. 

“My lady, I didn’t mean--” 

“I am a queen, not a lady,” Jazlene hisses, “be gone before I have your teeth knocked out of that stupid mouth of yours.” 

The other maid wrings the cloth and steps back on her heel, chewing on an apology before she spins to flee. As she nears the door, she notices you and gives a panicked look. You reach to take the cloth from her before you go to the queen. 

“Your highness,” you greet her and dip the cloth back in the steaming water. “Would you like me to put ribbons in your hair?” 

“Mm, I suppose,” she tilts her face up and closes her eyes, “once the dirt is gone. By gods, I hate traveling.” 

You gently wipe along her hairline and trace the outline of her face. You delicately but intently clean away the errant dust and streaks. You drape the cloth over the brim of the basin and turn to the table. 

“And would you like your lips painted?” You intone. “Your highness, I do think your natural tones are beautiful.” 

As you peek back at her, her eyes open and she stares at you. Her nostrils compress as she inhales. She puts her head straight and looks at her reflection. 

“Do you think so?” She touches her cheeks. 

“Yes, I do, if you line your eyes, they might appear bigger but they are so lovely and dark already,” you compliment. 

She hums and tilts her head, turning her attention back on you, “it’s you.” 

You lower your head, “your highness?” 

“You’re always flitting around like some bird,” she sniffs, “suppose you are not so... agitating as the other. Yes, ribbons and some kohl. Then I will have one of the former queen’s gowns. They have delivered her wardrobe to me.” 

“Yes, your highness,” you say and go to work. 

You settle into your usual lull. The queen sips from her goblet as you twine ribbons with her curls, a halo around the crown of her head as coiling strands hang down to her back. She looks even more immaculate than you’ve seen her before. 

She calls for a dress and you bring her several options from those strewn across the large bed. She chooses the lavender and you help her into the light silk. You relace it to account for her lither figure, the former queen having some extra years in her hips. 

When she is dressed, she twirls before the mirror. She stops and sets her chin straight and glares at herself. She arches a brow coyly. 

“I cannot wait to see Lady Florence,” she scoffs, “she will choke when she realises I am her queen.” 

You linger by the wall, blending into the tapestry as she sighs and eyes the glass affectionately. She primps herself and spins again. 

“Well then, I must be overdue,” she goes to the door, “I must go to the king and show him I can be his queen.” 

You open the door for her and follow her out. The soldiers outside glance at her but do not move or speak. Bryce comes up beside you as you trail after Jazlene. She struts to the end of the corridor and is stopped by another guard at another door. 

“Do not think to stop me,” she spits, “I am the queen,” she flicks her fingers in his direction, “don’t be absurd.” 

The man lets her through as she tugs on the latch and his dull eyes stare past her. She hardly has the effect she thinks. People do not admire her so much as they tolerate her. 

She sweeps into the chamber as you wait outside. Bryce lets out a gritty breath and taps his fingers on his sword pommel. He chews more of the sweet leaves he loves so much. Jazlene emerges with a doe-like look. 

“Where is the king?” She exclaims. 

“He has gone to address the people,” the guard picks at his teeth. “He tired of waiting--” 

“Do not tell me about the king,” Jazlene snaps on the soldier, “ugh, let us find my husband. How can he think to face my people without me at his side?” 

She storms onward and you can only follow. She will no doubt need wine sooner than later, though you wish she might take more water or milk instead. Bryce keeps your pace slowed as he makes little haste. 

As she descends the steps, you can hear the king’s voice. The crowd is hushed, almost hypnotised as he speaks from atop a chair. Somehow, he is both overwhelming and unassuming. Jazlene shows as she sees him. The crowd does not move out of her way as they are rapt in his words. 

“...do not come as conquerer, but as liberator,” he declares, “I am not here to suppress but to unite. Our kingdoms, forged together as one, can attain glory. Peace. Joy. Our people needn’t suffer the droughts or frost rot without relief. By coming together, we will join summer and winter in harmony,” the king holds his sword, the tip on the armrest of the wooden chair, “to you lords who stayed loyal to Waleran, I do not seek retribution. You only did your duty and served the king you put an oath to. You had no part in his violations upon myself. I am aware you could not rein in your greedy master. You will keep what is yours, as by rights, but you will swear fealty to the new crown.” 

King Geralt looks around the hall, “I have spoken to the farmers and the peasants, I have seen the beauty of your lands. I wish not to ravage it but to build it. You will not have only from me writs and declarations, you will have fields sown, you will have harvests reaped, you will have coin in flow, and you will have full bellies.” 

He raises his great sword over his head. The large weapon could be held only by two-hands in anothers grasp but he lifts it effortlessly. 

“I saw how your king tucked tail when he saw me on the field. After you good lords followed him to battle and sacrificed your men and your blood. He could not stand and fight, but many of you did, many of you not here today. I will not let their souls be spent in vain,” he pauses and his golden eyes rove around the room. He points his sword suddenly towards you but not quite, at Jazlene, “I have taken a summer wife.” He curls his fingers to gesture her to him. People swivel to see her and clear the path to the king, “a winter’s king must have a summer’s queen, if our kingdoms our to rise anew.” 

Jazlene sways before she gets her footing. She moves forward, chin high as she lets a grin break out over her face. She looks this way and that, gloating as she goes to her husband. He steps down as she approaches and he takes her hand. He helps her up on the chair herself and she seems almost confused by the act. 

“Queen Jazlene of Debray,” King Geralt proclaims, “she will return with me to the Hinterlands to see that order is kept across our realm and perhaps, the next time I look upon you all, I will have an heir to present to you. A young prince to lead us into the sun ahead.” 

He raises Jazlene’s hand as she fawns. The crowd breaks out in racket, voices swelling to the rooves as you’re jostled against Bryce. The lords and ladies, servants and soldiers, throw up fists and hoot and holler. 

The king brings his sword up again, silence falling at the gleam of its silver blade, “but first, a feast!” 

The fervour is even louder as the hall explodes in glee. You hear it ripple out the doors into the crowd without and like an ocean, the tides carry through the courtyard and front gates, streaming into the city. Peace has come and old grudges cannot take the shine from the gift of a king’s mercy. 

⚔️

“Your highness, we heard of what happened on Stag’s River,” an earl, you think he said his name was Kelvan, “it was a brave stand. Admirable, even standing upon the other ridge.” 

“You were there?” King Geralt muses, “mm, how fortunate our paths did not cross.” 

“Indeed, your highness,” the earl agrees, “I must admit, I dreaded it.” 

“But here we are, alive, together, as allies. It is all I ever wanted.” 

“And we knew it. We knew it, my liege, for when you let our men march back at all, we saw your grace,” Kelvan smiles. 

“Yes, but I have only ever admired your lands, never had I wanted to ruin them,” the king assures as he looks over at his wife. 

“He is a brave and good king,” Queen Jazlene praises as she puts her hand over the king’s. 

Lord Kelvan’s lips ripple, “mm, yes, I have not seen your father yet. If I shan’t happen upon the Duke, you will send my regards.” 

There’s an edge that makes you uneasy. You see how Jazlene bobs her head, “so I shall.” 

She doesn’t seem to notice the tick of resent in the earl’s cheek. How odd it is that they are so fond of the invader and yet their own kith and kin, they cannot help but revile. You’ve heard the whispers swirling already. It was not King Geralt who betrayed these people but this snakish woman and her blood. 

“Wine, girl, now,” Jazlene snaps as the early departs back to his seat. 

You stand against the wall, just behind the bench she shares with the king. You come forward with the jug reserved only for her, nearing between the shoulders of the royal couple. Before you can put the spout to brim, King Geralt’s hand catches the swollen belly of the ewer. 

“Perhaps you might have some more lamb before you indulge further, wife,” he girds. 

“It is a feast,” she slurs, “I am only celebrating. With you,” she touches his sleeve, “my king.” 

“I see that,” his voice is low but firm, “yet you are a queen and your subjects are watching.” 

“I can stomach my wine,” she sneers. 

He huffs and wraps his hand around the bottom of the handle, just below your grip. He wiggles it away from you and sets it on the other side of his plate. Jazlene lets out a childish gasp. 

“It is just wine,” she snivels. 

King Geralt runs his fingers along his collar, “we are having a good night,” he says as he peers out on the crowd, “please, let us not make a scene.” 

“I am not making a scene. I am the queen and I want more wine,” she insists. 

He faces forward completely. You stay as you are, trapped in their indecision. He blocks the jug with his elbow and she claps her hands on her lap and kicks her feet.  

“Perhaps you should have some of that wine,” she mutters, “it might make you kinder.” 

The king doesn’t reply and instead greets another lord; one who introduces himself as the Count of Bress. As they speak, Jazlene leans back on the bench and tugs your skirt. You look down at her. 

“Find more wine,” she growls, “and don’t be obvious about it.” 

“Your highness, but the king--” 

“I am your master, not him,” she snarls and nudges you harshly, “be away before I lose my patience.” 

You dip your head and notice how the king’s head turns towards his wife. You don’t look back as you critter off quickly into the shadows. You might be better to take your time and tell her you could not abscond any more wine. If you wait long enough, it might even slip her mind, as so often her desires fade into the next. 

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #medieval au #au #series #the witcher #winter's king

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 26, Unsurprising - Pt. 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 1.4k

Previously On...: Nat gave you some very interesting, and disturbing news.

A/N: ::giggles like school girl::

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

“Buck,” you hissed, shaking his sleeping form. You hadn’t been on the phone with Nat for that long; there’s no way he should be sleeping this deeply already. “Wake the fuck up!”

He groaned and rolled over, looking at you through sleepy eyes. “Pocket?” he groaned, bringing up a hand to rub at his forehead. “I told you, I’m not just gonna fuck you if it doesn’t mean anything.”

You shoved him. “That’s not why I’m here, asshat!” you hissed. “Something’s happened!”

Bucky bolted upright and flipped on the bedside lamp. “What is it?” he asked, looking alarmed as he ran his eyes over your frame. “Are you alright? Are there complications? Do you need to go back to the hospital?” You were surprised that his immediate response was concern for your welfare, though you shouldn’t have been– Bucky had always been protective– until it came to protecting you from his actions, of course. 

“No,” you said, reassuring him, “I’m fine. Something happened at the Tower. With Carthage.” You quickly recapped what Natasha had texted you, adding the sparse details she’d provided during your call.

“So, she quit?” he asked. “That’s great!”

“No, baby,” you said, and if either one of you noticed the endearment that slipped out, you didn’t acknowledge it. “Fuck… I’m just gonna say it because I don’t know how to put it delicately: Jade’s an undercover Hydra operative and her mission was to bring you back to them so they could reclaim you as their asset.”

You weren’t sure what reaction you had expected from Bucky– shock? Anger? Tears? Any one of them, or, hell, a combination of all three, would have been more than appropriate and expected.

What you had not been expecting, however, was fucking laughter. You looked at him blankly for a minute, wondering if you’d looked this crazy when you’d started laughing after Dr. Carson had informed you of your miscarriage.

“It’s not funny, Buck,” you said, annoyed. 

“It’s fucking hilarious, doll!” Bucky gasped, tears coming to his eyes from how hard he was laughing now. “She’s a Hydra agent? She’s got TicTac followers, for Christ’s sake!”

You could feel your blood pressure rising in your veins. Oh, you were getting angry at him, now. “First of all, it’s fucking TikTok, and I don’t know why we have to keep having that conversation! And second,” you took a breath, knowing this was probably not the most appropriate time to start something, but not being able to let it go, “I cannot fucking believe that, after everything, all the bullshit you fed me tonight in the living room, you’re still taking her side, taking her word over mine, as if I would make an accusation like that without any fucking proof!”

Bucky’s demeanor sobered up in an instant, as if you’d physically knocked the laughter out of him. He reached for your hand, and you let him take it. “Oh, sweets, no– that’s not… that’s not why I’m laughin’. I believe you; trust me, I learned my lesson there. No, it’s fucking hilarious, because of course she’s a Hydra agent. It explains everything, actually.” He didn’t need to elaborate for you to catch his meaning– of course she would have only pursued him so aggressively because it was her mission objective to do so. He must have felt himself so foolish to think that she would have had real feelings for him. You thought for a second that the realization should make you angry– you hadn’t needed a secret agenda to love him, after all, but then, he probably thought you didn’t love him anymore, either; you’d certainly given no indication of it. Even now, he still viewed himself as so completely undeserving of affection, and that just made your heart heavy with sadness.

“I don’t think it was just her mission,” you said, not really sure why you were about to come to the defense of the woman who’d made your life a living hell, but also knowing that you couldn’t stand for him to think he was unloveable. “She had the perfect opportunity to incapacitate you and bring you back to them on the Russia trip.” Ugh, just saying those two words left a sick taste in your mouth. “You were alone, in their territory, and she… she had you in an extremely vulnerable position. It would have been so easy for her to incapacitate you there, deliver you to them. But she didn’t. Whatever her mission objective is, I’m pretty sure she’s got one of her own, and I think it’s just you.”

Bucky studied you quizzically. “Are you… trying to reassure me? Because trust me, Pocket, it’s no skin off my back if she never actually cared about me, though it does make me regret everything even more.”

“I just…” you struggled to find the right words. “I just don’t want you thinking the only reason someone would want you is because they were told to,” you said after a minute. “That they were pretending. I’ve seen the way she looked at you, and it drove me absolutely crazy, because I know that’s how I look at you, too. I’m just saying, in her own fucked up way, I think she does care for you, whatever that means to her.”

Bucky’s head tilted as he looked at you, eyes gone gooey. “Present tense,” he said softly.

“What?”

He held your cheek into his big hand, rubbing a thumb along the line of your cheek bone. “You said that’s how you look at me. Not looked. Present tense, not past.” 

You snorted; you’d walked right into that. “Just because I stopped trusting you doesn’t mean I ever stopped loving you,” you admitted. 

“Pocket,” he said, leaning closer to you, “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay? If you don’t want me to, just say the word, and I’ll stop.”

“What happened to not wanting to be intimate with me if it’s not going to mean anything,” you exhaled. He was impossibly close now, but you hadn’t told him to stop. Not yet.

His breath teased your lips. “I think we both know now it’s anything but meaningless,” he said. His lips brushed across yours in a whisper of a kiss. “Tell me to stop,” he said again in a final warning, but you both knew you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. All you could do was close the millimeters of distance remaining between you until his mouth was on yours, begging for you to let him in.

So you did. And it was like a sudden summer downpour after a drought. A ray of warm sunlight breaking through the chill of snow clouds. The first blossom unfurling from the ground to signal the true arrival of Spring. It was finally coming home, all encompassing and everything you’d ever needed, a promise of sweetness and new beginnings. And it was over all too soon. 

Bucky broke the kiss, chuckling as you greedily chased after his lips with your own, a pitiful whine escaping them at the loss of contact. “Come back here,” you grumbled, reaching for him to bring him closer, but Bucky leaned away from you. 

“Told you, sweetheart,” Bucky said, pulling down the covers next to him and beckoning for you to join him in the bed, “I’m not gonna have you if I can’t have all of you. Now get in bed.”

Son of a bitch. He wasn’t playing fair. “Not sure how that translates to me getting in bed with you, Barnes,” you said, definitely crossing your arms over your chest. 

Bucky rolled his eyes and picked you up, gently depositing you in the space he’d made for you inside his covers, and you couldn’t help but let out a little squeak. “If you think I’m gonna let you sleep on your own when we have no idea where Carthage is, you’re crazier than I thought,” he said, pulling the sheet and blankets up around you. “Now go to sleep.” 

If you hoped he was going to wrap you in his arms and hold you close while you drifted off, you were in for disappointment. Instead, he left a respectable distance between the two of you, then, checking behind the nightstand to make sure his gun was where he’d left it, turned off the bedside lamp. “G’night, sweets,” he called softly before settling on his side, facing away from you.

“Night, Buck,” you whispered into the dark, more confused than ever before.

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[plumbewb]

just julia, a bachelorette challenge ♡

julia feng is back at it again after trying for a chance at romance with the lovely scarlett on @theosconfessions love is embarrassing bc (we hope my girl finds the love she deserves, the top 5 was just announced so go check it out!! <3) there will be seven spots in the del sol mansion, waiting to be filled with your lovelies! this will be minimal & casual as this is my first challenge there will not be too much story telling as that really isn’t my strong suit but we’re gonna damn well try & my laptop isn’t the best so i can’t do toooooo much! so please bare with me, and now onto..

a little about julia~

julia feng is twenty-six years old, and the adopted daughter of lily & victor feng. previously, she had thought she was a lesbian but has been experimenting since love is embarrassing, now she as came out as pansexual. she is the owner of feng beauty, and has a youtube channel where she emassed over one million followers. she was living in the spice district in san myshuno but moved to del sol valley after appearing on the bachelorette. julia loves rock & blues, and enjoys attending concerts and local shows. she’s a big hopeless romantic, and dreams of finding her one and only (& living happily ever after all that jazz). julia is very down to earth, despite being very rich, she doesn’t like being in the public eye. she wants someone to love her for her, not just the feng name, and that’s been hard for her as she only finds people who want to be with her for being rich. she’s never had a had a real relationship, only flings. but she knows what she wants, she’s gonna be thirty soon, she knows she’s ready to is ready to settle down & give her all to someone (not just her work). she knows a reality tv show may not be the place to find love, but she’s willing to try! you can read more about julia here!

requirements

⭒ humans only, maybe next time occults <3 ⭒ young adults preferred, any gender welcome ⭒ alpha/mix preferred, but maxis hair only ⭒ backstories are welcome, be detailed ⭒ include traits, skills, likes & dislikes ⭒ you can give them skills in-game or i can do it for you ⭒ no romantic traits or aspirations!!! ⭒ one outfit for each category ⭒ be okay with mods like ww & basemental

deadline ✄

the deadline will be two weeks from now on the 8th of may, please tag me @plumbewb & #justjulia for all submissions so i can see them & reblog them properly! sorry if that seems too soon, i’m excited to get started on this. subject to change depending on how soon i receive all sims!!! (any questions just reach out via messages)

#justjulia #a bachelorette challenge #ts4 bachelorette challenge #the sims 4 bachelorette challenge #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims #the sims

[vhagar-balerion-meraxes]

Fuck it. You know what, I’m not going to let all this bullshit ruin my enjoyment of things.

Fuck anyone who has engaged in this shit. Everyone involved are all complicit to greater or lesser extents, even if you weren’t the ones saying or doing stuff, the fact that you didn’t do anything while your ‘friends’ did doesn’t get you off the hook.

But I have had time to think about it, and I have decided that I will not let my enjoyment of being in this fandom be extinguished by a few toxic people. This fandom is far more than them.

I will reblog, I will like, I will interact with people because I do not want to be full of distrust. I will read fics and comment (once I have the mental energy again to do so), I will reblog and comment on fanart and gifsets, I will participate in tag games, I will do everything I can to make my tiny blog a safe space for everyone.

At the end of the day, we all came here to mutually fangirl over things we enjoy, not to spread hate. If you don’t like someone, unfollow them or block them, and move on. Don’t go talking shit behind people’s backs and stop sending fucking hate anons. Just move on and find things and people you do enjoy. Hope everyone has a lovely day.

#feeling a bit better after a good night’s sleep #fandom bullshit #sorry if this is a bit rambling

[siampie]

Risk and Reward||Chapter 5: Starving

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: You and Matt are slowly finding your rhythm and you can’t get enough of one another.    

Warnings/tags: fluff, idiots in love, childhood trauma

A/N: Not much to say about this chapter, just enjoy people. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated.

Previous Chapter || Chapter List || Next chapter

Masterlist || join my taglist

Tag list: @marytheweefrenchie, @sunflowersandsapphires, @abbyhaslongshorts, @schneeflocky, @danzer8705;

@ebathory997,

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Song the title is referring to:

I didn’t know that I was starving till I tasted you

Don’t need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo

By the way, right away, you do things to my body

I didn’t know that I was starving till I tasted you

“It’s not like that.” You sighed into the phone.

“No, no—It is like that.” Amelia retorted. You could picture her shaking her head, in mock disappointment. “Now that you have a boyfriend, you’re abandoning me at lunch time. So, you can eat with him. You’re choosing him over me.”

“Why are you so dramatic? We ate together yesterday.” You groaned as you stepped into the coffee shop, nearest to Matt’s office. “And I wouldn’t call Matt ‘my boyfriend,’ we haven’t decided on labels, yet.”

“What do you mean you haven’t decided on labels, yet?” Amelia questioned.  

You rolled your eyes. You placed your orders, and moved to the side to wait for it. “We have been on only one date so far. So, no, there hadn’t been any talks about labels. We’re just—”

“Ah, young love.” Amelia sighed dreamily. “You know what, I forgive you. Go get your man, Babe.”

“And I’m the weird one.” You chuckled.

You and Matt had been on your first date almost a week ago. And you had not seen much of each other since. Keeping in contact through texts and calls. You had not been able to forget about the feel of his lips against yours. Or his calloused fingers on your skin. Matt did not know you were joining him for lunch. You wanted to keep it a surprise. You only hoped it would be a good one.

You pushed the door to Nelson, Murdock and Page lawfirm opened and was met with a quite busy waiting room. It seemed you couldn’t have chosen a worse day to show up unannounced. The door to Foggy’s office opened as he let out a client. You moved away from the door as Foggy walked his client to the door. He sent a quick smile your way while doing so.

He clasped his hands, grinning at you. “Tell me those are for us?” He said pointing at the paper bag in your hands.

“In fact, they are.” You smiled back at him. “Special delivery of bagels and coffee. I also brought some lunch for you, guys.”

He took the bag from you, opened it and smelled the contents. The tension in his shoulders releasing greatly. “You’re a life saver.”

“Not really.” You chuckled, waving him off.

“Ah, I see. You’re here for your lover boy.” Foggy teased you.

“I was hoping but—I can see you, guys, are pretty busy.” You replied quickly. “I should—leave you to it.” You said your hand moving to the doorknob, disappointed that you didn’t get to see him. “Could you—?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be ridiculous.” Foggy pulled you away from the door and into the small kitchen. “I’ll tell Matt you’re here.”

“Foggy, you don’t have to.” You stopped him. “I can come at another time or call him. You don’t need to—”

“You came all this way; you can’t just leave like that.” Foggy said. “I’m sure Matt can spare a few minutes for his girlfriend.”

“His girlfriend?” You repeated.

“Hey,” Karen came to join you in the kitchenette. “I didn’t know you were coming,” She smiled at you.

“I was trying to surprise Matt.” You nodded.

“And she brought coffee.” Foggy said handing her a cup.

“Thank God!” Karen sipped from her cup. “I really needed that.”

“That bad, uh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Okay, I’ll let Matt know you’re here.” Foggy touched your arm briefly. “And then, I’ll go back into the fray.”

“Thanks.” You smiled at him. “See ya.” You turned to Karen; she was savoring her coffee. “Is it always that busy?”

“Not always.” Karen shook her head. “But some days are busier than others.”

“I can see that.” You hummed. “I mean at least it’s good for business, right?”

“Well, it’s mostly pro-bono work;” Karen explained. “But yeah, lately, we’ve had more paying clients.”

“Sweetheart?” Matt stepped in the kitchenette.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you laid your eyes on him. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up, exposing his muscular forearms. His charming smile split his face in two. And you couldn’t help but mirror his smile.

“Hi, Matthew.” You greeted, his hand already reaching out to you. You placed your hand in his reaching one.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two alone.” Karen resting a hand against Matt’s shoulder and squeezing it gently. “And thanks again for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You brought coffee?” Matt questioned.

You nodded. “Yeah.” You placed a cup in his hands.

Matt took a sniff of the coffee. “Thank you, you’re a savior.”

You snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far. It’s just coffee.” You turned to the table. “And lunch.” Matt took a sip. “You can have it as soon as you have a minute to yourself.”

“How did you know that—uh—we—?”

“I didn’t.” You shook your head. “I was just hoping to surprise you for lunch. But I see now that I should have probably called first.” You dropped your gaze to the floor.

“Hey,” His hand went up and down your arm as he stepped closer. “It wouldn’t have been a surprise if you had.”

“Still, I should have called anyway.” You turned your gaze back on his face.

His free hand cupped your face, his calloused fingers ever so gentle. Standing so close to him, his scent wrapped around you. He smelled slightly of salt, much more like sweat, and of cinnamon. You couldn’t decide it was his natural scent or a perfume he wore.

A smile slowly made its way onto his face. “I’m glad you came.” His lips met your cheek in a soft peck. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Your own smile mirroring his, once more. Your eyes landed on the people waiting behind him. And cleared your throat. “I should let you get back to work. People are waiting.”

Matt nodded, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. You leant into his touch. “I’m really glad you came.” He said, your hand rested on his wrist. “I’m just sorry we couldn’t have lunch together.”

“It’s okay.” You retorted. “We can have lunch at another time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You nodded with a grin.

He put his cup down and pulled you into his arms. His nose buried in the crook of your neck, as yours did his. You inhaled deeply, his scent invading your senses now. Under the stronger fragrances of salt and cinnamon, there was a light touch of leather. You reluctantly pulled away from him.

You spoke. “Talk to you later?”

“Sure.” Matt agreed.

“See you later, Matty.” You smiled at him one last time before walking out.

It wasn’t a total disappointment. Although, you didn’t get to spent your lunch with him, you did get to see him. And that was everything you were truly hoping for.

Your visit had indeed surprised him, in the best way. Since their office had opened that morning, he had not stopped. Between appointments with clients on current affairs, or the new clients coming in for councils, they had not had a minute for themselves. The sweet sound of your voice had eased the tension in his shoulders greatly. He had tried not to rush his appointment with his client but he didn’t want to miss an opportunity to spend a few minutes with you.

He heard your breath hitched when you laid eyes on him, how your heart had sped up when he stepped closer. He felt how you leaned into his touch. The way you reacted to him never failed to fascinate him. And he couldn’t wait to see how well you responded to his touch and more.

The touch of lavender and citrus in your scent had been stronger. There were traces of salt, in your scent, from your sweating. Breathing in your smell had relaxed him even further. And of course, he couldn’t resist hugging you and burying his nose in your neck. He couldn’t resist breathing more of your scent.

Your scent had lingered long after you left their office. The hints of lavender and citrus had gotten stuck in the small hairs in his nostrils. Each time, he inhaled he could smell you. You had been a welcomed distraction and a small reprieve in this hectic day.

“Matt?” Foggy had called his name, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” Matt retorted with a frown.

“So, what do you say?” Foggy asked him.

“About?”

Foggy and Karen glanced at each other smirking. “You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”

“Of course not, Foggy. He’s too busy thinking about our visitor.” Karen joked.

Matt chuckled lightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, you don’t.” The air shifted around Karen as she nodded, swallowing her food. “It’s a miracle you got any work done after her visit.”

“Speaking the truth as always, Miss Page.” Foggy agreed.

“Is she now?” Matt smirked.

“Look, buddy, I’ve seen you with a lot of women in the past. And God knows there were many,” Karen rolled her eyes at his statement. “But I’ve never seen you smile so much since you met her.” He turned to Karen quickly. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Karen waved him off. “Foggy’s right, though. Looks like you really like her.”

Matt smiled fondly. “I do. A lot, actually.”

“Well, I’m happy for you, buddy.” Foggy slapped a hand on his shoulder. “You deserve it.”

“Thanks Fog.”

“And are you gonna tell her about Daredevil?” Karen questioned cautiously.

“Oof.” He puffed out, leaning back in his chair. “The thought had crossed my mind but—um—I don’t think it’s a good idea. Not now anyway.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning; I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

This relationship was new still. And he did like you but he needed to know you more. He needed to know that he could trust you with his heart. It had been through so much already. So many losses. He needed to be sure about his feelings and yours. If he ever was to tell you about his nightly activities, he needed to make sure you were in it for the long run.

The Devil wasn’t just something he became at night, to fight crimes. The Devil was a part of him. Something he needed to be. And that knowledge alone wasn’t readily accepted by those surrounding him. Knowing all of him had put his friends in danger in the past. Knowing all of him wasn’t safe.  

Would he really share this part of him with you? Was he really willing to risk your safety?

Your attempt to surprise Matt had been a sign, you thought. Maybe, it was too early in your relationship with Matt for this sort of gestures. It was sweet but it might be seen as a sign of clinginess by others. In your past relationships, you either was the one who felt too much or the one who didn’t feel enough. There were no in-betweens for you. In either case, the relationship had ended because of you. You had been broken up with because you were too much. Because you loved too much. And you had broken up with others because you couldn’t feel the sparks. Because you felt nothing but indifference. The relationship just didn’t do it for you. In either case, you were the bad guy.

You did not wish a repeat of this pattern with Matt. You really wanted to know where this thing between the two of you could go. He had not seemed put off by your attempt, you tried to reason yourself. He had actually admitted to missing you. Just as you did him. Maybe, Matt was the kind of person that could feel as intensely as you did. Or at least you hoped so.

His dark frames were laying on the table beside his wine glass. A second date had been set up by Matt within that same week, he had taken you to a small Italian restaurant. The place was buzzing with people; laughing and chattering away. You were both wrapped in the delicious smell of the food.

Matt had looked dashing as always. Your eyes couldn’t leave his face once, especially after he had taken his glasses off. His sightless eyes seemed to always fall somewhere around your collarbone. The conversations ever so flowing between you. And if it did become quiet, it was never uncomfortable. And that was your favorite thing so far with Matt. You didn’t feel as though you needed to say anything to fill the silence. It wasn’t needed. Matt seemed to be content with it, as much as you were.

“You tested it out?” Matt asked you in disbelief.

“Listen, you don’t tell your children that sort of things and hope for the best.” You retorted. “I mean what did he expect?”

“Not for you to try it out, I guess.”

“True.” You nodded. “Anyway, my brothers and I went in the park by our house and decided to do it. We climbed the tallest tree we could. And jumped.”

“And?” Matt smiled at you.

“I can’t speak for my brothers, but I landed on my toes. And didn’t break any bones.” You shrugged. “I’d say my father was right about that one.”

“Realistically, how tall was the tallest tree?” Matt teased you.

“Probably thirty-five feet at least. Forty-five at most.” You replied; “And we didn’t actually climb that high. Still, we were kids and it was really high for us at the time.” You winced at the sound of your voice. “Sorry, that was loud.” You apologized quietly, looking around you nervously.

“Don’t apologize.” Matt shook his head; his smile had shifted into something softer and affectionate. “I quite like the sound of your voice.”

You huffed out a laugh. “You do?”

“I do.” He nodded; leaning his arms on the table. “Your voice always sounds beautiful and—uh—gentle. It’s how I see you. And—um—you have a way to make things easier when it gets too loud.”

Your heart raced beneath your ribcage; your breath caught in your throat. You were totally disarmed by the simplicity and the beauty with which it was delivered. His words were genuine, which you knew by now, was his personality trait. His words made you feel important, they made you feel—

“How do you keep on doing this?” You said under your breath.

“Doing what?” He leaned closer.

“I don’t know, you—uh—you have a way to take my breath away.” You quietly admitted. “To make me feel—seen, somehow.”

“Is it a bad thing?” He questioned.

“No, it’s not—it’s just—uhm—” You paused.

“What?” He encouraged you.

“No one has ever made feel quite like that before.” You let out breathless.  

His smile dropped slightly; and he reached over for your hand, weaving his fingers with yours. “Well, I do. I see you. In my own way, of course but—I see you.”

Being seen meant being important. Matt Murdock was blind. But he saw you, in spite of that. Better than some. And that was why you were more willing to believe him. He had no reasons to lie. Every word coming out of his mouth, complimenting you, were disarmingly honest. Which made it really hard not to get overly attached so quickly. And that was terrifying.

The way you felt about him was something you never quite experienced before. Matt Murdock might have already ruined you. Because you didn’t think you could settle for anything less after this. You didn’t want to.

At the foot of your building, Matt and you were reluctant to part ways. Your arms have found their way around his neck. His arms wrapped around your waist. His nose brushed against yours.

“I really enjoyed tonight.” He whispered while your fingers grazed the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Me too.” You smiled, your breath fanning over his lips. “Very.”

He grinned before his lips brushed against yours. Butterflies burst into your stomach; your heart hammered in your chest. You were convinced that Matt could feel it through his shirt. One of your hands travelled down his spine, stopping at the small of his back, pulling him into you. His lips parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside. His arms tightened around you, his hands moving along your spine. Lingering, as a moan made its way out of his lips. The sound made your heated core ache for more of it, eliciting a groan out of you.

You reluctantly pulled away from him, breathless, his lips chasing yours. “That was—”

“Hot?” He supplied, cupping your face. His fingers grazed the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulsing point.

“Yeah,” You breathed out. “We should probably—”

“Yeah, we should.” His nose brushed yours.

“I don’t—I really want to—" His lips brushed yours briefly. “Believe me,” You exhaled a shaky breath. “But I just don’t want to rush things.”

His mouth connected with yours once again, in a sweet and small kiss. “It’s okay.” He pulled back slightly. “We can take our time. I’m not going anywhere.” His words sounding like a promise.

“Good to hear.”

No woman had truly made him weak at the knees, quite like you had done that night. The smell of your arousal in the air, the way you had pulled him against you. The way you had briefly taken control had left him breathless and wanting more of it. More of this side of you.

Matt considered himself as someone who had the ability to ruin the good things in his life. No matter how hard he tried to protect them, disaster found its way to them. And he didn’t want disaster to find its way to you. He knew he wouldn’t last though. Not if he decided to let you know about the Devil. This could wait however. Most of all, he wanted you to feel safe with him, and to trust him. He’d give you the time you needed.

Friday nights at Josie’s were something you always was looking forward to. Especially if you needed to unwind after a long week. And—you got to spent more time with Matt. There had been a few more dates in the following weeks. Matt and you were starting to find your rhythm with one another. You had not spoken about labels yet but you were fine with it.

Your naked thigh pressed against his, one of his hands had slipped down to rest on your bare thigh. Throughout the night, his hand would affectionately squeeze your leg under the table. You laced your arm with his, pecking his clothed shoulder. You never thought of yourself as a very tactile person. Growing up, your father had not shown affection much. There were no hugs, no kisses. Nothing. So, of course, over the years it had not come easily.  You had thought of yourself as someone who couldn’t stand the touch of another person. And there had been moments when you did recoil at someone else’s touch. Only because you barely knew them, and they did make you uncomfortable. But you would soon find that you were, in spite of your beliefs, a very tactile person.

Or maybe it was simply a consequence of being touch starved. And now you were seeking affections in any way possible. Only if you were allowed to. Not everyone was comfortable with touch. Your sister didn’t like hugs, neither did your best friend. The only way for you to receive a hug from them, was for them to initiate it. Otherwise, they would push you away.

You weren’t afraid to be tactile with Matt. It seemed he was craving the affection as much as you had. A smile always making its way onto his face, anytime you did. As though he was taking pride in your being comfortable enough to do so.

You took a deep breath outside of Josie’s bar. You had a couple of beers in you, feeling slightly tipsy. You said your goodbyes to your friends as you parted ways on the sidewalk. You laced your arm with his as you started towards your apartment building.

“I have a question.” You said after a few minutes. Matt hummed softly, his cane tapping along on the sidewalk. “Are we girlfriend and boyfriend?” You looked up to him.

“Do you want us to be?” Matt questioned, coming to a stop.

You turned to face him and stepped closer, your arms encircling his middle. “Yes. I’d like to introduce you as more than just a guy I’m seeing.” A boyish grin appeared on Matt’s face. “I want you to be my boyfriend. And I’d like to be your girlfriend.”

He cupped your face, looking through you affectionately. “I’d like that too.”

“Yeah?” You grinned, tightening your arms around him.

He leaned down towards you, gently cradling your face as he closed the distance. “Yeah.” His lips met yours in a soft kiss.

“Would you—um, like to stay over tonight?” You asked once you pulled away.

Matt would love for nothing more. He knew what you were hoping for, he wanted the same thing. However, he still needed to go out as Daredevil. Something, you had yet to know about.

“Not tonight.” He said quietly, leaning in to kiss you again.

“Oh,”

You felt the pang of disappointment, the sting of rejection. You tried to reason that maybe he wasn’t ready. That he probably wanted to wait for a better time, make it special maybe. You tried to reason that there were no reasons for you to feel rejected. Especially right after you both had agreed to be boyfriend and girlfriend.   

“Next time, then?”

“Promise.”

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#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock x fem!reader #Spotify

[mhahaikyuus]

Hair

wc:; 1.4k

tags: black reader x katsuki, newly established relationship (still trying to keep up the illusion for your partner), black reader doing her hair, emotional reader, Katsuki being the rational calm boyfriend, fluffy, cute ending.

a/n: i skimmed barely proofread sorry for any mistakes, hope you guys enjoy. reblogs appreciated.

“I can come over tonight?” Katsuki asked on speaker of your phone. 

You two spent everyday together since he had confessed to you by shoving flowers into your hands and running off before you had a chance to respond in slight shock. 

“Uh I’m busy tonight sorry.” You said watching yourself in the mirror studying your scalp distracted. 

“Okay what about tomorrow?” Katsuki grunted unhappy he would spend time away from you. 

“Tomorrow I'm busy too, i can’t hang out this weekend.” You said eyeing the thin black plastic bag filled with beauty supplies sitting on your vanity. 

He frowned, you always told him about upcoming plans you had. At lunch always rambling about whatever you wanted and him listening with small grunts and nods. You didn’t mention anything before about plans. 

“What are you doing?” He asked. Not wanting to pry so early into a relationship and scare you off. He had plans to make you his permanently but he was nosey. 

“My hair,” You answered honestly.

“What do you mean your hair? It takes that long?” He asked confused. 

“Yeah, it does. I have a lot of hair and it takes a lot of hours sometimes a couple of days.” You admitted with a sigh already dreading the process. 

Katsuki sat there on the other side of the phone with a small sigh of relief. You weren’t blowing him off with anyone else, just your hair. He had no idea about black hair but he knew he cared about you and that meant this was important. 

“Do you need help?” He offered making you silent in surprise widely blinking at the phone. 

The man that would tell his partner in the field to fuck off when he asked. Was readily offering you his help. 

You let out a small laugh, “I do but I don’t think you know what that entails. It’s a really long process and it’s tiring. Im okay though thanks for asking.” 

He just wanted to see you. After spending every day together for a month, he doesn’t know if he could go 3 days. 

“Alright the offer still stands if you change your mind. Don’t tire yourself out.” He sighed and you both said your goodbyes. 

You fiddled with the ends of your hair with a huff. 

“Let’s get this over with.” 

~

You wanted to ram your head into a wall. Staring at half your head being braided, 10 hours down and probably another 7 to go. 

Your back hurt, your arms hurt, your head hurt it was not ideal. Not eating all day and getting irritated at everything you were in a mood. 

Throwing the rat tail comb from your hands on the floor you flopped onto your bed in tears needing a break. 

Your phone began buzzing, face still in the mattress you reached around til you found it and pressed answer button. 

“Hello,” You answered muffled 

“Hey how’s it going?” Bakugo asked 

You sniffled pulling your head up tears running. 

“It’s fine.” 

Bakugo heard how upset you were causing his forehead to crease, “What’s wrong baby?” in a softer voice. 

“It’s nothing it’s just my hair and i’m tired and cranky and i haven’t eaten all day. I’ve only done maybe half of my head and i want to stop.” You said through tears. 

“Hey, hey please stop crying it’ll be okay.” Katsuki said trying to soothe you through the phone but it wasn’t working. Noticing a twinge in his chest at the sound of your soft sniffles.

You left out small huffs trying to control your breathing, “Yeah…sorry I should go you don’t want to hear me crying. Sorry to bother.” You realized you were probably scaring away the one guy you did like with your hysterics. 

“No I didn-“ 

“I have to go thanks for calling.” 

Katsuki stared at the phone feeling his stomach sink. 

~

You cried until your eyes were puffy and reluctantly went back to braiding your hair. You were so impatient and tender headed but you would not spend 200+ dollars on box braids. 

After about an hour you heard a knock on your door. You opened it to your boyfriend with a bag of takeout and one from the pharmacy. 

You yelped in surprise slamming the door just as fast as you opened it. 

Katsuki was very confused and kind of hurt at your reaction. 

“Y/n! What the fuck come on.” He yelled from the other side of the door. 

Your face held such embarrassment, hoping this was a figment of your imagination. 

Your boyfriend was NOT here when you looked like a hot mess. 

Your non-black boyfriend at that. 

This is a nightmare. 

“What are you doing here!” You yelled back through the door. 

“Baby you were crying and I haven’t seen you in almost 2 days!"

You groaned, “You can’t see me like this! you have to go home.” 

He grunted in annoyance, “You better open up. Im not leaving when you were crying.” 

You were silent waiting for him to go home and he wasn’t budging. With a sigh you opened the door peaking out at him. 

“Are ya gonna let me in?” He asked with raised blond eyebrows and pretty crimson eyes.

You opened the door and stepped aside. 

“What’s wrong why are you slamming doors and crying?” He asked looking down at you as he entered your apartment.  

You slowly closed the door behind you and leaned back against it. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like this.” You admitted thankful that you didn't blush noticeably.

“Baby like what.” He sighed dropping the bags on your coffee table and bringing you in close. 

Your head fell into his muscular chest, smelling his cologne.

“My hair.” You mumbled into his shirt.

He pulled back and used one hand to push back your hair to see your face. Your hair is in sections and a half-braided mess. 

“I like you and your hair. So will you calm down please?” 

“Really?” You asked with teary eyes looking up at him. 

“Yes, I do.” He reassured his hands gently holding you, his main goal to calm you down from this tired anxiety driven mood.

“Okay.” You mumbled head falling back into his chest. 

He rubbed your back, “What’s going on?” asking again. 

“I stayed up all night and im not even halfway done. I have a headache.” You mumbled in tears. 

Katsuki led you to the couch and made you take a seat. 

“Take a break. You look hangry and I brought food.” He said propping you in his lap and handing you takeout. 

You finished your food and leaned your head in his neck. Your headache stopping. He was right as usual, you were hangry. 

“I’m sorry for slamming the door in your face that was mean.” You said wrapping him in a side hug. 

His hand rubbed the side of your thigh with a light kiss on your nose. 

“It’s okay, ya didnt break my nose with the door slam.” Katsuki said making you laugh.

“Can I?” He asked gesturing to your head and you nodded. 

Katsuki’s thick fingers touching your blow dried hair. 

“It’s soft.” He said with mild surprise, “Like really soft.” 

You laughed, “Yeah I do have soft hair, but so do you.” Reaching up and lightly tugging on his spiky blonde hair. His hair was getting longer in the back. It may be because he loves your hands all over him and especially his head, giving you more hair to yank. Just a theory of course you would never say to him.

He grunted, “You feel better?” 

“Yes…” You nodded as he smiled knowing what he was gonna say

“Crying over the being hungry?” He teased showing his canines with his smile and you rolled your eyes. 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m just saying.” 

“Are you discriminating against a black woman?” You squinted but Bakugo had heard that before. 

“I just came over here with food to stop your crying and got a door slammed in my face.” He said with narrowed eyes matching your own.

“Uh fine.” You sighed, “Can you not be a good boyfriend so I can call you a bigot.” Your hand trailing up his stomach under his shirt, wanting skin to skin contact.

He pinched the inside of your thigh making you yelp in pain in response. His head deeply buried into your neck just enjoying your touch

“Ow…”You whined rubbing the bruised spot. 

#mha #mha imagines #mha scenarios #my hero academia #mha x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katuski #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x y/n #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki fluff #bakugo fluff #bakugo x black reader

[hippotooth]

💙 Hello talented people who create fan art and fan fiction! 💙

It’s probably just some random fluke of my dash tonight but I’ve been seeing a lot of discouraged people wondering why they aren’t getting more interaction, or followers, comparing themselves to other artists etc- so I wanted to share my perspective, for what it’s worth.

I’ve been doing this thing for a while where I seek out, and reblog, BG3 fan art that is under appreciated - doesn’t have a ton of notes, etc - so visual artists are more my niche than fan fic but this applies to you writers out there too I think.

I’ve noticed:

Interaction does not always correlate with quality ✨

I see a ton of art each day of all skill levels, mediums, and subject matters. There is a ton of amazing stuff out there that simply does not get notes.

More importantly:

Every post is someone’s favorite 💕

Your post may not make you tumblr famous but I guarantee you someone loves what you make. I can reblog something, see most of my followers not interact with it, then see one follower reblog it absolutely losing their mind in the tags because it’s the perfect piece for them. If you’re not finding that person, the problem is most likely circumstance and not you. Maybe they’re in a different time zone than when you post, blame tumblr’s messy tagging and impossible search function- not yourself!

Sappy as it sounds, consider me your biggest fan if you want! I’m grateful for how active the BG3 community is and love seeing your talent and growth as artists. I genuinely enjoy every post I like and reblog. Need a pick me up? Message me and I will shamelessly gush about how much I love your work and mean every word of it. 😊

Your art and writing are appreciated. Sometimes that appreciation isn’t as loud or as visible as it should be, but that is not a fault of you, devoted and talented people. 👏

Thank you for sharing your creativity with us all!

#bg3 #bg3 fanart #bg3 fan fic #bg3 comic #baldurs gate 3 fanart #hippotooth talk

[beartitled]

Can you do some more comics with Francis mosses

I can, but the problem is

That I’m pretty much out of ideas and I’m progressively getting tired of tnmn fandom

Ppl who look at my tags probably noticed that 😓

More of my thoughts under read more for curious ppl

(short answer maybe I will do more, but I desperately need a break from tnmn)

! Just a general warning: this came out kinda long + sort of venty

Originally I planned to do 1 comic drop and move on, but got stuck bc ppl liked tnmn comics and kept asking for more (and still do-)

Generally I don’t mind doing more if the ideas are there, but I want to address this: I’m tired

I know blowing up is usually a good thing and I appreciate people enjoying my stuff

But it’s exhausting to see that tnmn is the only type of content which is relevant, to the point that my own projects or stuff I enjoy are just kinda.. ignored

It’s fair – again my blog is heavily fandom based

(+Tsp were and still is kinda the focus)

But with tnmn fandom it’s a bit… different

Maybe I’m biased and it’s just my negative experience with tiktok comments

Remember this art?

cleaning up transphobic comments was.. um tough

Again, I get that you can’t be in that neat bubble completely sheltered from negativity

Humans are just assholes by nature really/j

So I was expecting the backlash, but not that much

I think maybe tsp fandom spoiled me a bit (in a good way), bc I got a feeling that everyone in tsp was positive of any lgbt+ headcanons and just generally more supportive

(don’t get me wrong, there ARE problems in tsp community too, taking narrators design controversy into account as one of the examples)

Obviously every fandom always has it’s own issues, show me at least one fandom that didn’t have some sort of meaningless controversy or some sort of problematic people in it

It happens

But it leaves a bad taste in your mouth sometimes

And for me personally it only added to not so pleasant experience

The thing I also noticed, when I interacted with other fandoms

Ppl wrote positive stuff first and foremost, not really asking for anything

Here it’s just “hey more. I want more. Do more. Do this character. Do this. Do more.”

The only reason I kept doing more, because likes, reblogs, views – these comics get a ton of attention

there is a audience to please alright

But this thing comes with a pressure tho

and it shows

so let me illustrate

This bookcase

Is my shame

Because I was so rushing, I just copied and colour corrected this bookcase from my diploma comic and pasted it here in hopes for the best

💥IT LOOKS HORRIBLE OKAY💥

Usually it’s normal to take materials used in other projects

the not so normal part is

to leave it like that because your stress reducing tea doesn’t work and you don’t really have time to redraw it

my m en ta l s t a t e i s f i n e ah ah h ah ah

Ok but jokes aside: it’s really tempting, to just abandon everything and produce content like some sort of content farm

But I don’t want to, I’m forcing myself and it makes my art worse

Yes it’s subtle, new people won’t even see this

But I’m not improving

And I don’t enjoy just anxiously popping out comics because everyone keeps asking

I can give it my all to something when I’m passionate, but just “hey I’m getting attention” is not the best motivator

Attention like that does get to my head, I know that I will probably give in again and do more, bc I will compare my posts engagement

But what’s the point of recognition, when you feel.. so numb about it…

Sorry for a mountain of text and thank you for ppl who actually took their time to read it

It’s been building up for a while and I feel like people need to know the reason why I’m not so enthusiastic about making “more”

I’m not necessarily completely abandoning this fandom

I still plan to do ask/suggestions event for STP (I’m just making sure I can dedicate my time to it, that’s why it’s taking so long) and I can add tnmn to the mix

Like STP+tnmn kind of deal

But for now – I need a break

At least for a little bit

#bear answers #vent post #nothing serious just a bunch not so positive thoughts #tnmn #that’s not my neighbor #tnmn fandom #thoughts #fandom thoughts #apologies for possible mistakes/typos

[tired-inyxe]

EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS!!!

Hi uh… so I MAY have made a questionable financial decision and now need at least 40 dollars, so I’m opening my commissions here!

PRICING

Headshot - $30

Full-body - $50

Partial Reference Sheet - $40 for an OC, $50 for a custom

Full Reference Sheet - $70 for an established character, $80 for a custom

EXTRAS

Props: +$0-$10, depending on complexity

Backgrounds: +$0-$20, depending on complexity

Extra Character: +80% of the og characters price (ex: $24 for a headshot)

Other stuff: Just ask!

WHAT I CAN DO: Pretty much anything that isn’t in my can’t do section! Although I’m kind of horrible with city backgrounds and other artificial looking scenery (im trying!), I’m also horrible with mecha however I do want to try some soooo

WHAT I CANT DO: NSFW, romantic stuff, anything bigoted… thats rly about it, although for fandom content (which I will usually be ok with!), know that I can refuse anything. Im also generally fine with suggestive poses as long as nobody’s buck ass nude or if there’s another character in there (NO!! SHIPS!!!)

Feel free to dm me! My primary payment method is PayPal but m fine w anything

EDIT: I’m tagging all the reblogs with #inyxes reblogging comms again

This’ll mean u can actually block the posts because yeah that’s a lotta reblogs. Sorry to anyone on my dash holyyyy

EDIT 2: This post has my other socials and more examples! Feel free to look at it if you need some more information :3

#Commissions #please #im begging #i need moneys #on my knees #Gah #emergency commissions

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: yo, work is driving me nuts.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Lady Jazlene, a queen by marriage, cries herself to sleep. You stay until she snores and snuff the candle as you leave her on her stomach atop the stuffed mattress. You emerge between the guards and wonder if they keep people out or keep her in. 

They don’t react to you. No one really does. A shadow approaches. The thickset man grunts at you as the moonlight shines off his dark mail. Bryce waits patiently as you near him. He turns and walks beside you in silence. 

Much of the camp is asleep. The only fires that remain are those of the soldiers on watch for marauders and bandits. Your soles kick loose pebbles and trample flattened grass further. You yawn as you reach the luggage carts and find the one you rode in. The grey horse is tie to the axle, dozing on its feet with puffing nostrils. 

“The road will not get any less turbulent,” Bryce warns as he grabs his bedroll from across his mount’s rump. “You will need sleep, maid.” 

“Thank you, sir,” you lift the canvas draped over the back of the wagon. 

He grumbles and unfurls his roll across the dirt. You climb up and nestle down beneath the cover, pressed against a chest as you curl up. You hear the soldier lay down with a groan, “...too sweet...” 

You close your eyes and rest your head on a bent arm. The darkness quickly swallows you up into slumber and the day fades into obscurity. You’re not conscious long enough to dread the one ahead. 

As the sun rises, heat gathers in the cart. You wake in a damp sweat, nearly suffocating as you gulp up cool air. You slip down onto your feet and grab onto the cart to keep from stumbling. Bryce grunts as your soles crunch on the ground. 

“Eh, where’re you off to?” He sneers. 

You look down at him. His eyes are still closed as his grey steed sniffs at the dirt close to him. 

“Sir, I... I haven’t... relieved myself since... erm, well...” 

“Go on, but not too far,” he opens his eyes and sits up. “Holler if you meet trouble.” 

The horse huffs into his steely hair and he pets its nose. He grabs onto its reins and hauls himself up. You quickly spin and flit away. You go off into the brush where its thick and squat down, your skirts gathered above your knees. You miss the springs behind the castle where you would bathe with the other maids, you could use a wash now. 

You finish up and peer over the stretch of bodies, horses, and carts. You set off back toward the cart and as you come in sight of Bryce, he unties a dented kettle from his saddles. You feel much better without the pressure beneath your guts.  

“I could fetch water,” you offer. 

He looks over his shoulder. You think you surprised him. 

“Quiet mouse,” he mutters and faces you, gripping the bent handle, “I can manage a potful of water.” 

“Yes, sir, I only was being helpful.” 

“You stay, take Daisy to find some fresh grass,” he points to the horse. 

“Daisy?” You look at the beast, “is that her name?” 

He shrugs and stalks off. You go to the reins and loose them. You glance around and lead her over to an unyellowed swath of grass. She dips her long neck and grazes, tearing the strands noisily as her teeth clack. You pet her ear as she comes rather close to the hem of your skirt. 

Heavy steps tramp up behind you. You don’t bother looking as you assume it’s Bryce. Those who are stirring are barely able to lift themselves out of their rolls. The lazy rise of dawn does not inspire fastidiousness as the clouds haze amber and rose. 

“Fine horse,” the king’s timbre rumbles over you. 

You turn and bow your head, “your highness.” 

He inhales through his nose before he speaks again, “are you a fast rider?” 

“I’ve never... I don’t ride, your highness,” you reply, staring at his black mail, just at the center of his chest. “It isn’t my horse.” 

“I know it, I thought perhaps...” he begins and shifts his weight in his boots, “you might’ve secreted away the mare. That you would be sick for your home.” 

“Your highness? No, I wouldn’t--” You put your hand to your apron, “I am not a thief.” 

He pauses and his thick fingers toy with his belt, fiddling with a leather purse, “that isn’t what I...” he blows out in exasperation, “I do not think you dishonest. In fact, you are the most honest creature I’ve met around here.” 

You keep your eyes down, “I only mean to feed the horse.” 

“Yes, I believe you,” he assures, his tone glum, “forgive my inference. Truly, it wasn’t intended as such.” 

“I understand, your highness,” you say. 

“It was a jape, a poor one, I suppose,” he hooks his thumb in his belt and turns to pace. “I wanted to thank you. I have yet to figure out how to handle Lady Jazlene but you keeping her company, I do appreciate it.” He stops and crosses his arms as he faces you again, “last night, what you heard and saw... we are strangers still, her and I.” 

“I am a maid, your highness, I serve the lady and you now,” you reply, “that’s all I do.” 

His arms bulge before he drops them, “yes, I suppose for you, the matters of nobility are dull.” 

“It is not of my concern, your highness,” you say, “I am to see that all the wine and food and little things are taken care of.”  

You peer up at the sky as the dimness slowly recedes. His figure looms below and he slowly treads closer. You squeeze the reins. 

“You serve the queen, the king, and... a horse,” he reaches to touch its snout, dragging his knuckles along its grey fur. “Make certain we are fed and content.” 

“Whatever is needed, your highness,” you answer and watch his hand stroke the horse. 

“And what do you need?” He asks. 

You quork your head and stick out your lip. It's an odd question. You have what you need. You have a place in the cart, you have some nuts left over from Bryce’s generosity, and you have some hours sleep behind you. 

“Nothing, I think,” you say. 

He scratches behind the horse’s ear, “and what do you want?” 

You purse your lips. You think. Another strange inquiry. What should you want? That’s not something anyone ever worried for. You only troubled after what others wanted. 

“I... I want to see the snow,” you say at last, “I think I dreamt of it but I can’t remember. I don’t really know what it would look like but I remember once Merinda spoke of it. She knew a stable hand who once lived in the north.” 

He’s quiet. Your answer isn’t very interesting. To him, the snows must be so tedious. Nothing more than ordinary. He makes a clicking noise. 

“I want to see the snow too,” he pulls his hand away from the horse and for a moment, he seems to reach for you, recoiling short of touching your grasp on the reins. He withdraws and presses his thumb to his teeth. He hums. “We have far to go before the snow...” he rasps, “should you require anything for the road ahead, you may ask.” 

“That is kind, your highness, but I don’t expect I require much,” you assure, “thank you.” 

“Mmm,” he drones as he faces the sunrise and sets his posture, “onward.” 

He marches away as you stay and watch Daisy munch on the grass. You comb your fingers through her main, loosening the tangles. When another approaches, you glance over. Bryce tidies his own hair with his hands. 

“Water is boiling, maid,” he declares, “I have some spare mint leaf for tea.” 

“Yes, sir, thank you,” you smile down at Daisy and move out of reach of her teeth. “I will stay with the horse until she is done.” 

“Hm, aye, I understand,” his forehead lines, “she is much more pleasant than I.” 

He nods and turns back the way he came. You watch after him as he goes to sit before the hanging kettle, a low flame burning beneath it. He rolls his shoulders and hunches forward as he plants his elbows on his knees. These people of the Hinterlands are not so cold as they pretend. 

⚔️

The long train continues through the lands. Some days slower than others. There are some where progress stops at midday in favour of passing through a village or approaching a nearby farm. The king departs from the larger party, riding with his soldiers to greet the commonfolk. Lady Jazlene refuses to accompany her husband in favour of her silk tent and wine. 

The pauses in your trek makes you curious; you only ever heard of King Waleran showing his face to the citizens during the harvest festivals and self-aggrandizing ceremonies. You never saw the king yourself, only heard Lord Dustan and his wife resentfully complain of how the king never made the journey to Debray. Did he not recall that once a duchess was married to his great-uncle? 

You spend the hours in Jazlene’s company. She wants her wine and mutton. You notice that her appetite for the former has grown since the first day’s travel. She even requested that some casks be sought during one of the king’s visits. He acted as if he did not hear her entreaty. Their few encounters since that first night have been terse and short, neither offering much more than a word or two. 

The queen swirls her cup, watching the motion of the wine within. She giggles and puts it down, picking up the looking glass and admiring herself. She sits on a wooden stool, her skirts dusted with the dirt of the road. Despite the filth, she insists on sporting a new gown each day, no matter how extravagant. 

“What a fool? To think he is wasting his time on commoners,” she trills, “you know, he should be here, worried about his wife and queen. Not married a week and all we’ve done is ride anon. I’ve had no wedding, no feast. How I am neglected for these dirty farmers.” 

You say nothing. You’re not certain she recalls you’re there. She speaks to herself often as if her mother is there. A few times, she has even called for the duchess. Often when she’s nearly finished the bottle. 

She pouts and sniffs. She drains the cup completely and puts it down heavily on the crate next to her. She grips the mirror with both hands and looks at her reflection. She contorts her face, sucking in her cheeks, pushing out her lips, turning her head this way and that. 

“Aren’t I beautiful?” She nearly whispers. You don’t flinch. You stare at your hem. She sighs and stomps her foot, “I’m asking you!” 

You peek up at her, surprised.  

“Yes, your highness, you are very beautiful.” 

She frowns, “you lie to me.” 

“I wouldn’t lie, your highness.” 

“Don’t argue with me,” she snarls and slams the mirror down, cracking the glass on the crate. She stands and blusters around, her skirts catching between her legs, “if I am beautiful, what makes me so, hm? Tell me!” 

You stare at her. She is beautiful. You always thought so.  

“Your hair, your curls, your highness, they are beautiful.” 

She rolls her eyes, “just my hair?” 

She wobbles slightly as she struts towards you. 

“Your eyes. They are pretty too. And you have a nicely set nose. And your lips are finely curved, your highness,” you explain as she looms closer and closer. 

“Hmph,” she stops, slouching drunkenly as she leans in to consider you, “of course you would say so. Look at you. So plain. An ugly handmaid.” 

You stare back at her, a strike in your chest, then drop your gaze. It is the wine. She huffs, her alcohol-laden breath tinging your nose. 

“The king,” she babbles as she turns on her heels, swaying dangerously, “we’ve only lain together our first night. It was... quick. He didn’t want me to sleep with him,” she raises a hand and flutters her fingers, “he shooed me away like some whore.” She spins and falls onto the stool, “if I am so beautiful, why does he not want me?” 

You watch her. She isn’t looking for your answer. She’s talking to talk. Lady Rezlyn isn’t there so she has only herself and stagnant air trapped in the tent. 

“It is my duty to have his babies. To give him heirs. I cannot do that if he will not touch me. But perhaps when are in one place, he might try again,” she smiles and lifts the broken mirror. She tilts it and lets her hand drift down to your bodice. She pushes her chest up, “when he lets me take this off, he will see. He will want me.” 

She convinces herself as she preens at her reflection, “perhaps it won’t hurt.” She looks around and sees the bottle of wine. She grabs it by the neck. She grips it and wiggles it at you in the air. “He’s even thicker than this,” she puts the mirror down and balances the bottle on her palm as she circles her fingers around the bottom of the bottles neck, just before it rounds out, “and longer.” 

You stare at the silk wall, mortified by her words. She giggles and the movement of her hand draws your eyes up. You watch from under your lashes as she brings her hands up and down the bottle neck. 

“Mother says, just like this,” she pumps it, “that he should like it very much.” She stops and focuses on the bottle, “mmm, he is a man underneath it all.” She tosses the bottle away, “and I am a beautiful woman. He will want me.” 

You lower your eyes again and twine your fingers together. You can’t help but feel bad for her. You only wish you had some words of wisdom or comfort to offer her. Or that she would hear them. You can’t help but touch the fading bruise along your stomach as you languish in the tepid silence. It’s better to let her forget you. 

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #series #au #medieval au #the witcher #winter's king #dark fic #dark!fic

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

WARNING: THIS PART HAS A MAJOR THEME THAT SHOULD HAVE A WARNING, BUT I DO NOT WANT TO SPOIL THE PLOT. THEREFORE, IF THERE IS SOMETHING YOU FEAR YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO HANDLE, *PLEASE* DM ME FOR THE WARNING BEFORE READING!

Word Count: 1.7k

Previously On...: Uh... something went horribly wrong.

A/N: BUCKY IS BACK, and just in time <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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You weren’t sure what woke you up– the incessant beeping or the dull ache between your legs. 

“Ugh, Sam, turn off your fucking alarm clock,” you muttered, pulling your blanket above your head. When had the apartment lights gotten so hideously bright? “Sam’s not here, doll. ‘Fraid it’s just me.”

Your eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, and you slowly pulled the blanket down from your face. You were lying on a bed in the middle of a hospital suite, and Bucky Barnes was sitting in an armchair in the corner. He looked haggard, as if he hadn’t done anything but worry and fret since arriving. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked him, fighting to keep your voice steady. You’d hoped time would have helped lessen the pain you felt at the sight of him, but no– he still tore at your heart.

“You never changed your emergency contact,” he said, getting up from his chair to sit at the edge of your bed. Lovely. You were going to have to re-traumatize yourself because you hadn’t been assed to update fucking paperwork. 

You rubbed your eyes with your hands. “What happened?” you asked.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Bucky said. He reached for you but you, but you pulled away, leaving him to frown at the space where your hand had been. “All they would tell me was that your distress beacon was activated, and when SHIELD operatives responded to your safehouse, they found you passed out in a pool of blood. They had you in surgery when I got here.”

“Surgery?” You began patting your body, searching for bandages or stitches, some sign of an incision, but you found nothing. “I don’t feel like I had surgery.”

Bucky shrugged. “That’s all they told me. Since I’m technically not family, they wouldn’t say anything more.” You scoffed. He was a lot less than ‘technically not family’.

“Well, I’m not dead,” you said dismissively, “so no reason for you to stay.” You shooed him away with a flap of your wrists. “Go on home now.”

Bucky snorted. “All laid up in the hospital and still, you got jokes,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere. Sam called Steve on his way to the airport, told him what went down with A.J., so looks like you’re in need of a new mission partner.” The smirk behind his eyes was enough to make you sneer.

“No,” you said, crossing your arms, and you were sure you looked very intimidating in your hospital gown with an IV sticking out of your hand. “I’m good, thanks. Don’t need any help, especially not yours.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at you. “Always so stubborn,” he chided. “Doesn’t matter what you want, doll. Captain’s orders; I’m here to stay, at least until Sam gets back.”

Fucking wonderful. As if you didn’t have enough to worry about, with girls getting murdered, Hydra funding the Wiggle Room, you randomly bleeding out and collapsing, and poor A.J.’s condition still unknown. Maybe there was something so seriously wrong with you, they’d make you go back to the Tower to recover and Bucky would be forced to stay down here, alone. God, was that actually what you were hoping for, now? Your life had indeed gone to shit.

There was a soft knock on your door and a man in a white doctor’s coat and glasses entered, carrying a clipboard.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued: “I’m Dr. Carson; I’ve been attending to you during your stay with us. I’m glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

You barked out a humorous laugh. “Like I’ve been thoroughly fucked by a cactus, Doc. Care to explain what the hell happened to me?”

Bucky suppressed a snort as the doctor blushed and averted his gaze. “Yes, well, it’s quite normal to experience some mild discomfort following a D&C,” he began.

You sat up straighter, positive you had misheard him. “I’m sorry,” you interrupted, “a fucking what now?” He couldn’t have said what you thought you heard him say.

Dr. Carson coughed. “A Dilation and Curettage,” he explained. “It’s a procedure to–”

“Oh, I know what it’s fucking is,” you said, raising your voice. “What I don’t understand is why I would even need one in the first place!” Except you did. There was only one reason, and it made everything make perfect sense– the vomiting, the fatigue, all of it. 

Before the doctor could answer you, Bucky spoke up: “Uh, I don’t know what it is. One of you care to explain to me what the hell all this means?”

“It’s none of your fucking business, Barnes,” you grumbled, just as the doctor spoke over you:

“It’s a surgical procedure that requires dilation of the cervix and the removal of tissue from the uterus,” he said. “In this case, that would be necrotic fetal tissue.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Um, okay,” Bucky said as he considered the doctor’s words. You watched as the realization came over his face. “Holy shit. Fetal tissue? Like… like a baby?”

Dr. Carson nodded slowly. “Yes.” He turned back to face you. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Ms. (Y/L/N), but it appears that you’ve experienced what we call a spontaneous miscarriage. Near as we can figure, you were about sixteen weeks along.”

You brought both hands to your temples. Was this real life? 

“Were you not aware you were pregnant?” the doctor asked, taking in the look of complete shock on your face. “When was the date of your last period?”

Before you could control yourself, you began laughing with the absolute absurdity of the entire situation. “I’ve been slightly preoccupied,” you managed to get out. “Between the baby’s father” you thumbed at Bucky, “cheating on me with my greatest enemy, working undercover to save a bunch of women from sex trafficking and now solving a murder, too, I guess, so forgive me if I haven’t really been keeping track.”

The look Dr. Carson gave you then was a mixture of concern and alarm, and you were fairly confident he was this close to having you held for a mandatory psych eval. Good; you could benefit from a vacation.

“Could, you, uh,” Bucky cleared his throat, “give us a moment alone, please, doctor? I’m sure Pock– I mean (Y/N) needs a minute to collect herself, to process.”

“Yes, of course,” Dr. Carson said, seeming relieved that one of you appeared sane, at least. “I’ll send a nurse over in a little while to check your vitals, and we can see about getting you discharged.”

Bucky nodded and offered the doctor his thanks on your behalf, because you were still laughing. Dr. Carson left the room, his haste evident. 

“Pocket,” Bucky said, trying to get your attention, but you ignored him. “Pocket,” he tried again, this time grabbing both your shoulders in his hands and gently shaking them. “Hey, get yourself together, come on!”

Your laughter tapered away and you wiped a tear away from your eye. “Oh my god,” you exhaled. “I’m sorry, but this is just… I’ve been running around pregnant for four fucking months? Come on! That’s, like, an entire third of a year! You gotta admit, that’s fucking insane!”

Bucky studied you. “You really didn’t know?”

You snorted. “Of course not! If I knew, I wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with, because I would have taken care of it the second I found out.”

A frown took over Bucky’s face. “What do you mean, ‘take care of it’?” he asked. 

“I mean, like, I would have aborted it,” you said, as though the answer was so unbelievably obvious that it was stupid of him to have even asked, but Bucky’s frown deepened. “You can’t honestly think I would have kept it?”

“It was our baby, Pocket,” he said after a beat, his voice a rough whisper. “You would have killed our baby?!”

You rolled your eyes. “What? Just because you knocked me up, I’m supposed to forget everything you put me through and play happy co-parents with you and step mommy Carthage for the next eighteen years? No fucking thank you.”

“I would have married you,” he said, and you noticed for the first time that his voice was full of sorrow, his eyes lined with tears. Jesus Christ, this was hurting him. “We would have raised him or her together. Been a family.”

You laughed, the sound harsh and awkward to your own ears. “There’s no way in hell I’d marry you,” you told him. “Not after what you did. A clump of cells doesn’t just absolve you from your sins.”

“That was our child,” Bucky said, with so much anguish in his voice that you pulled yourself back. “That was a baby we made, out of our love, and you’re talking about it like it’s… it’s inconvenient garbage.”

“Yeah, well, I guess the trash took itself out,” you said bitterly.

Bucky looked at you in abject horror. “You don’t mean that,” he said, as though trying to convince himself as much as you. “You’re… you’re in shock. You’ve been through a trauma, and you’re not thinking straight.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t mean that,” he reiterated.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, James.” You turned your head away from him, not wanting to see the way he was looking at you, as if you were a complete stranger. 

The suite’s door opened again, and a nurse came in, dragging a portable computer cart behind her. Saved by the vitals, you thought.

“This conversation isn’t over,” Bucky said under his breath, and you sighed, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to table this discussion for long, but not knowing what he hoped to get out of you. 

He couldn’t seriously have expected you to want to have had a baby with him, could he? Not after everything. To be forced into close proximity with him for the next two decades, and be tied together for the rest of your lives with a constant reminder of what could have been, should have been, with what he prevented you from ever having? That was just… delusional. 

Even though, if you had given yourself a chance to truly think about it, outside of the initial shock of it all, that was what you would have wanted, too.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[cathedral-of-the-forest]

Turning negativity into positivity.

I see lots of “List 5 things that make you happy” posts. I just recently reblogged one myself. But, the world is not all rainbows and unicorns. And dealing with negative things can have a positive outcome. So, in a first for Tumblr, at least in my decade on it, I’m going to do this.

Name 5 things that really irritate the shit out of you, and what you do to keep that irritation from turning you into a serial killer, or just slapping the shit out of people on a street corner in your town. Im going to tag 10 people to start things out. I’m not going to start with myself, that is kind of like clapping for yourself, which ain’t me. If someone tags me back, I’ll post 5 things.

Here we go:

@edwardabbeyhoffman @violetsoblue @heatherannchristie @todds-likes @mstacobelle @findingforest51 @the-merry-gnome @persephone-sighed @thewontonhousewife @floating-in-waves

[formulapisces]

reblog or <horrific thing will happen to parent>

reblog to get <specific amount of money>

reblog for <luck and something about a crush>

reblog if you aren’t <racist, homophobic, etc>

reblog or else <terrible tragedy happens>

reblog if you care about <obviously a good cause but is baiting you to look like a horrible person if you don’t reblog it>

SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP

#they all say ThIs OnE aCtUaLlY wOrKs #your friends with ocd do NOT appreciate this at all the next time i see one of these posts on my dash i’ll scream #alèssi says things #actually ocd #ocd #‘but you can just block the reblog bait tag’ it doesn’t get rid of shit. #if you’re not actually 7 years old why are you reblogging obvious bait and chainmail? grow up a bit. i’m so sick of it #the people reblogging this with ’reblog if you agree’ etc can also kindly go fuck themselves. #tw repetition #<- sorry i didn’t tag this earlier 🤍 #i hate this so much why so many re logs #and reblogs being like ‘sorry i do this tee hee 🤭’ it’s not funny i’m not joking these posts are distressing!