#misty and nats expressions get me the most

[milf-lover42]

I’ll never be over how Shauna sees the group’s faces in her dream after they’ve eaten the baby. It’s such a fascinating insight into Shauna’s mind to me. Lottie looks practically childlike. She makes an attempt to wipe her face but not in an ashamed way, it’s simply a casual motion to wipe her lip, as if the actual amount of blood on her face doesn’t exist to her and it’s simply a crumb that rests on her lip. It seems like she has orchestrated this, but she’s unaware what they are really doing, as if she doesn’t understand this is Shauna’s BABY.

Akilah looks terrified, she’s sorry she’s doing this but she can’t help it. She’s almost about to throw up thinking about what she’s doing but she’s just so hungry she can’t help but eat what’s been given.

Van nearly snarls like a fucking wolf which I find FASCINATING. Van has never been aggressive toward Shauna, but she IS a strong ally to Lottie, and that seems to be enough of a threat to Shauna.

Taissa is very clearly being seen as her sleepwalking self, with the quick movements, sloppy chewing, and animalistic stare. Natalie is desperately ashamed of what she has done, trying to wipe away the evidence and so sorry that she has betrayed Shauna in such a way but she just couldn’t stop herself. It’s as if Shauna knows neither of them could be consciously capable of this, even in her dream. These two have been her strongest allies and Shauna doesn’t believe they would willingly hurt her in this way, but it could still happen somehow. Natalie also has the least amount of blood on her, like she was the last to dig in, or ate the least and most carefully. Being as respectful as possible until the last second.

And Misty. Misty looks at Shauna as if she wants to worship her. She looks for a moment like “ah shit, listen Shauna I know this looks bad” but the most prominent message from her expression is as if she is grateful to Shauna for feeding them again. Shauna has been the one keeping them fed for so long. First with Jackie, and now her baby.

#yellowjackets spoilers #misty and nats expressions get me the most #there is SO much happening in their minds #yellowjackets #shauna shipman #lottie matthews #akilah yellowjackets #van palmer #taissa turner #natalie scatorccio #misty quigley #jackie taylor #yellowjackets s2 #yellowjackets 2x06 #milk talks #milk and laz #milk and laz do yj #tw blood #tw gore #cannibalism #tw: cannibalism

[ultrone]

what do u think about nat being all protective over preagnant!reader? :)

⟢ protective!nat with pregnant!reader

after hearing the news for the first time, a whirlwind of emotions would sweep over her—surprise, confusion, and maybe even a little jealousy, even though you two weren't together when you got pregnant. but then she'd look into your eyes, seeing the stormy emotions reflected there. she'd take a deep breath, pushing aside the chaotic feelings. right now, being safe is what's most important. she'd focus on survival, thinking about how to stay healthy and deal with the reality of your situation. the news is unexpected, but nat is nothing if not adaptable. she'd reach out, squeezing your hand to reassure you. whatever happens, you'll face it together. even though you're out in the wilderness, you're not alone. you have each other, and that's what really matters.

her first thought would be to spend more time hunting in the woods to ensure you have extra food. but she got really serious about it, going out for at least 10 hours a day and even trying to make travis stick around to assist her. it wasn't until you intervened that she calmed down a little and began to take it slower. now, even though she spends a good amount of time hunting, she comes home earlier and stays by your side for the rest of the day to make sure you're alright.

very very attentive, both emotionally and physically.

she'd be acutely aware of your emotional state, picking up on subtle cues in your expression and body language. she'd constantly offer words of comfort and reassurance, making sure you know you're not alone in this.

she'd also pay close attention to your physical condition, ensuring you're eating enough, staying hydrated, and getting rest. she might also take on more chores around the cabin to lessen the physical strain on you, like doing laundry while you nap after she returns from hunting.

she'd make damn sure lottie stays as far from you as possible 😭 like no kidding.

once, lottie invited you to join the circle to pray for the baby's wellness, and nat overheard. she literally dragged you upstairs warning you not to come back down, and proceeded to have the longest argument with lottie, telling her to stfu and leave you alone with her wicca bs cuz it wasn’t helping 😭

don’t even get me started when lottie called your baby “our baby” ☠️

she'll constantly have her arms protectively around your belly, with her hands on top of it, saying she wants to "keep the baby warm”

she makes sure misty stays at least 6 feet away from you until the time of birth, because she knows misty is unfortunately the best (and only) person qualified enough to deliver the baby lmaooo

#𓏲 📂 ⋮ my works .ᐟ #nat scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio x you #nat scatorccio x y/n #nat scatorccio headcanons #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x y/n #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets headcanons #nat scatorccio thoughts

[they-them-van]

one of the themes of yellowjackets that i haven’t been able to stop thinking about is cycles of violence, which i think we particularly see in two ways: inter-generational trauma, and this idea of violence as a tool of forgiveness.

starting with inter-generational trauma, i love what yj has done with this. there are so many different examples: van’s relationship with her mom, which liv hewson has said impacts the way they play the character (in particular her relationship with tai), and which i think is especially important given that van’s mom was an alcoholic and now we’ve seen this suggestion that van may or may not have some kind of addiction problem herself. tai’s trauma which manifests itself in sleepwalking, which she never fully dealt with, and now has directly passed onto her child - arguably largely because she refuses to face it. shauna’s relationship with callie, the way she’s treated her child as accomplice, distant yet also expecting callie to fill in the role jackie might have had if everything had happened differently; still processing the trauma of her wilderness birth which leaves her unable to be fully present for callie. lottie’s relationship with her parents, natalie’s experience with abuse, there’s so much i could go into with this.

but in particular, i think one of the most interesting ways this manifests is in the way lottie passes her beliefs and practices - shaped by this unspeakable trauma, shaped by her experience in a mental hospital in a foreign country, shaped by the ways she’s failed and how nobody has taken her seriously - onto the members of her “community”. dozens of people living their lives on a foundation lottie has built out of her pain.

and this is also the clearest place we’ve seen lottie express this belief in violence as a way to achieve forgiveness. when she tells lisa to stab natalie, to take her anger out on the cause, just as she offered herself up as a sacrifice to shauna 25 years ago. i certainly agree with others that lottie can be manipulative, but i think in this regard she’s genuine - she believes that she’s found a solution, but she blinds herself to the fact that she’s caught in her own cycle, that intentionally or not the people around her have been caught in this same cycle. misty couldn’t save crystal/kristen, so she lets javi die to save another friend. nat can’t save javi, so she saves lisa at the cost of herself - but misty can’t save natalie this time, and the cycle continues, because the cost of using violence to find forgiveness is that somebody will end up harmed, somebody won’t be able to stop it, and the burden of guilt is simply passed on.

to me this is such a fascinating idea that i’ve never really seen explored before, and on some level i know that it will only get so much worse as more shit goes down and more people can’t be saved. if this is the principle the yellowjackets are living by, they’re all accruing a lot of fucking guilt. and i most certainly see how constantly trying to outrun this guilt, caught in a trap of committing more violence and acquiring more guilt to escape what you’re already carrying, could bury a person.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets s2 #yellowjackets spoilers #i love this show so fucking much gah #lottie matthews #lottie yellowjackets #lottienat #natalie scatorccio #natalie yellowjackets #shauna shipman #shauna yellowjackets #misty quigley #misty yellowjackets #callie yellowjackets #crystal yellowjackets #taissa turner #tai yellowjackets #taivan #van palmer #van yellowjackets #yellowjackets analysis #yellowjackets theories #lisa yellowjackets #javi yellowjackets

[i-just-drink-coffee]

The Yellowjackets as things I’ve heard pt3:

Tai: All I want is to be the most perfect, educated, intellectual, hot, and talented person in the room at all times. I’m not asking for much.

Van: I’m pretty sure I’m Trisha Payta’s soul sister

Jackie: I should’ve realised I was gay when my favourite show was Glee and favourite movie was Pitch Perfect

Shauna: That scene from Derry girls where they’re trying to clean but realise they’re using mayonnaise instead of cleaning soap reminds me of my life

Mari: Thinking of getting Lip Filler and lying about it constantly to fuck with everyone Edward Cullen style

Lottie: I’m pretty sure I was born to encourage peoples bad decisions

Misty: I was suspended for “threatening kids” like tf? I was just trying to show off my cool knife

Nat: say no to drugs isn’t practical coz who tf is just offering u drugs that shit is expressive

#yellowjackets #lottie #lottienat #nat #misty #jackie #jackieshauna #mari #van #natalie scatorccio #shauna shipman #Tai an #taissa #van palmer #twilight #glee #pitch perfect #Derry girls #Trisha paytas coz I love her #sapphic #gay

[couldcarefewer]

Nat talking about Travis’s death with Misty/Shauna/Tai continually gets this expression out of her, and it’s in such stark contrast to the much more artificial grief she puts on with “outsiders” like Suzie and Kevyn (before she started opening up a bit to him a bit more, anyway - though even in their hallway scene at the very end of 1x10, she still looks much more guarded than this). She’s such an open raw wound with the other women, and regardless of how she feels about them (imo she gives off constant #ItsComplicated vibes around all of them), the fact that she’s so willing to let them see her truest, most vulnerable self in a way that she isn’t even with people that she arguably likes more (again, Kevyn) says SO MUCH to me.

#yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio

[scatcrccio]

DUE TO TRIGGERING CONTENT, this will be placed under a 'read more' because it is both very dark and very personal to my own life which I'm using in relation to understanding Natalie's character and the reasoning behind a lot of her characteristics as it corresponds to her experiences and relationships with some of the other girls as adults.

I want to start off by saying that I am not an addict myself however, my mother was. Both of my parents actually passed from overdoses, my mother being the most recent. At the age of six I saw my mother almost die from an overdose, but she was thankfully saved in time. The reason I'm mentioning this very personal information is because it correlates to how I view Natalie's life choices; her consistent relapses and having to go to rehab about five times before we're seeing her now in the show and the struggles she's still facing. My parents had a very similar relationship to Natalie and Travis in the sense that they were horrible and toxic influences to each other. Not to digress into my personal life too much but I wanted to point out the fact that it takes more than just sending someone to rehab to help them get better. We know that Taissa helps in a financial way to pay for Natalie's rehab sessions (five times as previously mentioned from what's been stated by Lottie), and not to discredit Tai from using that as a way to express her love and care for Natalie, that simply just isn't enough for someone who is so deep down the rabbit hole. There is a constant need for further love and support without all of the ridicule and shame that Nat consistently feels by those around her. Travis pushes her away and we see on several occasions where Tai and Shauna have shoved Nat's addiction in her face whether it's regarding drugs or alcohol. That kind of behavior is only going to put an addict back on the wrong track because they're not going to feel that need or sense to really get better if it's already expected of them. They won't see the point. Hence why I feel Natalie continues to just relapse again and again. This is why I feel like her relationship with Misty is so crucial, even though it comes with it's own baggage. Misty still has proven herself to really care and love Natalie whether that be platonic or romantic isn't important. She wants to be there for Nat on a deeper level, which we see when she straight up saves her from relapsing again by snorting her coke. Was it an extreme action and fucked up to be spying on her the way she was? Yes, absolutely. But she's also the only person who believes regardless that Natalie can get better without making her feel like a constant failure. This is not me making excuses for Nat's behavior, I am merely saying that from personal experience with addicts, I can understand the characteristic of it when she feels like there is literally no one in her corner. You can send an addicted person into rehab, but if they don't actually feel supported with the love and belief that they can succeed in their sobriety (regardless of how many times they relapse) and keep putting them down every time they do slip, that's not what's going to motivate them to be better.

#this I know (head canon) #drugs tw #alcohol tw #suicide tw #overdose tw

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝔻𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕖𝕤

___________________

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Bucky gets hit with that god awful (but really hot) sex pollen. (this was requested)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Dub-Con/Non-Con as per usual with sex pollens fics (although i try to write them as consensual as possible :T) Smut obvi (18+ minors dni), slight daddy kink, age gap?, public male masturbation; it's brief but still

TW: very brief mention of possible suicide

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hot

____________________

“Where are those daisies we collected from the last mission?” Tony asked you, eyes staying glued to the hologram in front of him.

“I left them on the quinjet. Fury said to wait for transportation until Shield confirms safety. It’s literally in a glass case, but whatever,” you rolled your eyes, making the older man laugh.

“Just protocol, kid,” he snickered.

Meanwhile Bucky sat with Steve eating lunch, chatting it up like old men do.

“So what did you bring back from the last mission? I saw a bunch of agents in hazmat suits,” Steve said sipping his coffee.

“Uh, well Thor said we should bring some plants back for research, but it seems like a bunch of normal lookin’ daisies,” Bucky shrugged.

“Y/n loves daisies,” Steve smirked.

“Ok?”

“And you love Y/n,” Steve teased.

“No I don’t-”

“Hey boys!” you skipped past the kitchen.

“Y/n,” Bucky said standing up with a big goofy smile on his face.

“Where ‘ya going?” Steve asked with a chuckle.

“Quinjet. Fury gave us the go to start doing tests on that plant you brought the other day,” you smiled lightly jogging to the runway.

“Why don't you ask her on a date, Buck,” Steve nudged.

“Come on, she’s way too smart to go out with a dumbass like me,” Bucky joked.

“Seriously.”

“I don’t know. It’s been years since I’ve talked to another woman. It doesn’t come naturally anymore. Wha- what’s even the first I’d say to her?”

“I don’t know, man. I’m on the same boat with you. Just… Tell how nice she looks today when she comes back.”

“Really?” Bucky asked skeptically.

“Yeah, be nice to her.”

“I am nice to her.”

“I mean be extra nice. Flatter her,” Steve told him, “Go wait in the lab until she comes back and tell her she looks pretty today.”

“Isn’t Tony in the lab?” Bucky asked.

“Ha ha, yeah,” Steve teased, patting his back before leaving to his room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony mumbled seeing Bucky waltzing in the room awkwardly.

“Nothing,” he mumbled back.

Tony dropped his hands and stared at Bucky with an unimpressed look on his face. Everyone but you knew about Barnes’ little boy crush on you but he’s never had the balls to say anything. You were close to Tony and seeing as though he doesn’t particularly like Bucky, he didn’t want you hanging around him. But you were an adult so of course you hung out with whoever you wanted.

He was sure you liked him back too which never ceased to make him roll his eyes.

You walked back from the quinjet with the glass container of daisies. You weren’t exactly a plant expert but it was apparent that these daisies were mutated seeing as though the pollen swirled around the flowers gracefully. It was beautiful but then again they might be extremely dangerous considering it was a Hydra experiment.

“Hey Y/n, off to the lab again?” Steve smiled.

“Yup, gotta check these babies out according to Thor; said they might be dangerous if they’re what he thinks they are,” you said, still walking.

“And what’s that?” you just shrugged at his question unsure of the answer yourself.

“Well, Bucky’s waiting for you in the lab,” he slipped in the conversation.

“Really? Why’s-” Crash!

“Oh no,” Tony mumbled, seeing the collision in action.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you stuttered.

“No, no. I should be sorry. Here let me help,” bucky knelt to the ground grabbed the fallen daisies with his bare hands.

“No! Don’t touch-” Tony shouted practically sprinting towards you two.

The golden pollen swirled in a misty manner engulfing Bucky completely. You stared with furrowed brows confused at the sight before you and what was going on. Bucky’s skin began to burn and his senses were being overloaded. All he could smell in that moment was you; the same scent that he got a whiff of this morning when he hugged you, the perfume and the shampoo that filled his senses when you walked passed him.

Tony pushed you out of the lab roughly throwing you in Steve’s arms who was just as confused.

“FRIDAY,” Tony called out.

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” the familiar voice answered.

“Lock all the doors to the lab and maybe turn on the a/c,” he commanded.

“Of course, Mr. Stark.”

All the glass walls and doors instantly shut and locked, locking Bucky inside. Bucky’s eyes found your and slammed his body against the glass desperately trying to reach you. You too ran up to the glass wall trying to understand what had happened to him. Everything was happening so suddenly.

Your forehead was pressed against the glass as was Bucky’s; both of you staring into each other’s eyes momentarily. In that moment, you could see his eyes turn golden for a quick second before his pupils dilated ridiculously before your eyes.

“Is he going to be ok?” you turned away.

“Y/n! Please!” Bucky’s muffled screams shocked you.

“Uh… where’s Thor?” Tony panicked.

“What the hell is happening?” Nat asked; Sam, Wanda, and Vision trailing behind closely.

“Nat,” you ran to her.

“What happened to Bucky?” Same asked.

“He- I ran- I ran into him by a-accident and the box dropped. There was mist everywhere and Bucky's eyes. His eyes,” you stammered breathlessly.

“Please! I need her!” Bucky hit the glass in an attempt to break it.

“Oh my goodness,” Wanda gasped at the sweaty Bucky hitting and practically going feral.

“Oh god, is he gonna be ok?” you teared up. This is your fault, dammit.

“I can asure he will experience no physical harm,” Thor’s voice made all of you turn around.

“Just physically? What the hell does that mean?” Sam argued.

“Well, uh… I’ve never actually seen it’s effects in person. Especially not on a Midguardian…” his voice trailed off and his eyes grew big.

Nat snapped her head, eyes widening as well. Bucky with absolutely no shame held his hard dick in his hands pumping it with his eyes trained on you. You went to turn around seeing nat’s expression but she covered you eyes before you could actually see the lewd behavior Bucky indulged in.

“What’s happening?” you asked holding onto Nat as she led across the room.

“Nothing, they’re gonna take care of Buck. Don’t worry about it,” she said quickly.

You sat in your room bouncing your leg as the movie on your TV played. Every now and then Bucky would moan and cry particularly loud making all of you wince and cringe. But your mind felt foggy simply thinking about Bucky and his safety; especially that moment when his eyes went from confusion to you don’t even know what. Hunger? Desire? Lust?

Whatever it was, it made your tummy flutter.

“Steve, any news on Bucky?” Steve stood at the doorway with a worrisome face that did nothing to ease your already panicked nerves.

“Well, as far as Thor knows the plant that was mutated with the daisies was pollen extracted from a breeding plant common among other galaxies; for species that can’t… reproduce like we do. The pollen enters the system and targets the nociceptors causing excruciating pain without physical harm. If untreated the victim can reach a traumatic state and truthfully, they will do anything to stop the pain; even kill themselves.”

“What the hell does any of that mean?” Sam grunted.

“It means the tin man is painfully horny,” Tony interrupted.

“Are you fucking serious?” Sam said in disbelief.

“What’s the cure?” Nat said.

“Oxytocin, of course,” Tony said.

“The cuddle hormone,” you whispered.

“Yup. Banner and I are already working on a serum containing artificial oxytocin in hopes to minimize the pain or even better cure him completely. We-”

“I’m afraid it’s going to be a bit more complicated than that,” Thor interrupted Tony.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, see the pollen, it’s a little tricky. The oxyputin-thingy you mentioned…”

“Oxytocin,” Tony clarified but Thor didn’t care too much.

“I don't think artificial love is going to cure the boy. If you want results, he needs to be the one he desires most. That’s where you’ll get your oxy-pudding.”

“Oxy- You know what, we can figure this out without anyone needing to have sex,” Tony groaned.

“Tony, maybe we shouldn’t-” you started.

“Nope, we can do this. We’re science bros,” Tony stormed away like a child.

“Isn’t your lab being ‘occupied’,” Nat called out.

“Shit!”

-

Hours went by and the oxytocin experiments were clearly a fail. The first dose did nothing. The second also nothing. The third relieved him for only ten seconds before he went back to his painful state. Since then, they haven’t been able to help or relieve Bucky’s circumstance any longer.

You thought about Thor’s words, about how the one he desires most could cure him. A ping of jealousy struck your heart but you knew you to find the woman Bucky loved and just pray that she'd help him. You made your way back to the lad area where Tony and Bruce had their new makeshift set up while the lab was locked down.

“Tony, this is ridiculous. It’s been going on for too long. You heard what Thor said about what happens when it gets too much,” you begged.

“And what do you suggest we do?” Tony said angrily.

“We need to find the woman that Bucky loves so she can help him,” you argued back.

“It's not just some woman, Y/n! He wants you.”

“What?”

“All the bastard’s been doing for the past eight hours has been masterbating while moaning your name. I’m not putting you in that situation,” Tony yelled.

You couldn’t speak. Was he telling you the truth? Did Bucky want you like that? The same way you secretly wanted him? It’s not like you haven't thought about what being with Bucky would be like before. He was perfect; so handsome and charming.

You ran back to your room where the rest of the guys still were practically out of breath; your heart hammering out of your chest and your stomach fluttering like it does whenever you think about Bucky.

“I need to get to Bucky,” you panted out.

“What?”

“Please you guys need to help me. Tony said that Bucky wants me; I mean can you believe. A guy like him wanting me? I’m just… nobody. He’s way too out of my league and-”

“Y/n, focus,” Nat said.

“Right. I- I want to help him. I know I can.”

“Y/n, we don’t know how dangerous this is. I mean, it came from Hydra, this could be weaponized and you could get hurt,” Steve argued.

“Bucky could never hurt me,” you whispered; Nat looked at you softly, understanding the situation better realizing you were probably Bucky’s only chance of a cure.

“You’re not actually considering letting her do this are you?” Steve scolded Nat.

"Are Tony and Bruce making any progress?" she sighed.

"They haven't been to even relieve his pain for longer than ten seconds," you whispered.

"Steve, this is Bucky we're talking about. Hasn't he endure enough torture in his life?" Nat said softly.

That seemed to convince him. Seeing Bucky in so much pain like he had been only years ago was unfair, especially when they technically already knew a cure. Waiting this out was pure evil at this point.

"How do you suppose we go about this?" he asked.

You devised a plan in order to let Bucky from the lab; he'd find his way to you on his own. Wanda stood from afar using her powers to tamper with the equipment. Tony frustratingly would have to run across the compound to the conference rooms to grab new devices in order to continue with his notes and tests.

On his way back, Steve and his convincing and charming ways would stall Tony's return asking him all sorts of questions about Bucky's state. Meanwhile, Thor made up some excuse to lure Banner away just for a minute so Nat and Sam could override the lockdown through Friday and free Bucky.

All the while you sat in your room waiting anxiously for Bucky to barge through the door and have his way with you.

A few minutes went by and no sign of a ruckus you'd assume would accompany the escape plan. You fiddled with the hem of your skirt biting your lip in anticipation. Still no sign after a couple more minutes. Wanting to make sure you still looked alright for Buck, although he'd probably not even acknowledge your appearance, you stood up to walk to your bathroom.

Just as you stood up, Bucky in all his muscle and broad glory slammed the door behind him staring at you with nothing but desperate hunger. Your stomach flipped when you saw him lock the door, pushing a small chair you had just next to it in front of the door under the handle.

He stalked towards practically panting and you took in his appearance. His hair was quite disheveled and sweat lined his forehead and slightly down his neck. Despite that, he still looked so handsome and sexy.

"маленький, all dressed up for me to ruin," he growled crawling up the bed as you crawled back.

"Buck, are you ok? I want to help you," you whispered.

"I'm more than ok now, beautiful," he whispered leaning into you, his nose brushing against yours, chuckling when you visibly trembled.

"Is my красивый маленький ангел gonna let me use her?" he whispered, huskily.

"Bucky, I don't understand what you're saying."

"так драгоценно," he whispered against your lips before pressing himself completely against you.

His hands, contrast between hot and cold, crept under your shirt brushing lightly over your delicate skin. You had somewhat expected Bucky to have no control and use you relentlessly, of which you wouldn't have minded, but this soft ginger foreplay was really making your panties wet.

Bucky slowly lifted the shirt from your body before tossing it to the side and removing his own. His hands cupped your breasts squeezing the soft flesh quite roughly making you sigh and moan at the feeling.

His lips attached themselves to your neck biting and sucking harshly littering your skin with dark purple marks. He nibbled on your ear as he grinding his pelvis against yours, his large erection poking your center making you even more aroused.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you. It smelled just like you," he whispered.

"T- The daisies?"

"I've been craving you, aching for you. Thinking about how good you're gonna feel wrapped around my cock," he panted speeding up his grinding thrusts.

"Buck," you breathed out.

Bucky shuddered over you before stilling for a moment. He couldn't help it, your scent, your warm skin pressed against his, he couldn't hold back anymore coming straight away in his pants.

You brushed his hair softly soothing him from his high. You thought it was over, that he felt better and was finally cured but almost instantly you felt Bucky harden under you, poking between your thighs and you gasped knowing very well it was going to be a long night.

Bucky stood on his knees and pulled your bottoms down your legs nearly ripping the material. He too rid his bottoms throwing them god knows where before climbing back on top of you. You stared adorably up at him and Bucky almost came again. He smiled softly at you before kissing you once more.

Suddenly, loud bangs on your door startled you but not Bucky.

"What the hell are you doing!" Tony screamed.

"Tony, you gotta stop! This is the only way! It's not fair to him to let him keep suffering. He's done enough of that, ok?" Nat shouted.

"She's gonna get hurt," Tony sighed.

"No she won't. This was her idea."

Tony looked back teary eyed. He really cared for you as his own and putting you in a situation like this wasn't fair to you either. He really tried to help but this was just too complicated and too advanced to solve in only a few hours. They were right, Bucky needed you as much as he didn't like that idea too much.

"Fine."

Bucky lined his cock with your entrance wrapping your legs around his waist. Slowly he pushed in pulling moans from you both. You've only had a couple lovers previous to Bucky but neither of them ever filled you so perfectly. Bucky stretched you out like none other and admittedly he wanted to use his fingers on you first but he'd been away for too long it was too painful to go another second without being inside you.

"So tight and warm, little one. Feel so fucking good wrapped around me."

"Buck," you moaned.

You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him impossibly closer to you as you kissed along his neck and jaw. Bucky moaned breathlessly in your ear and you couldn't help the clenching around him from arousal.

"Fuck, keep doing that, little one," he groaned.

Toy squeezed your thighs together and clenched around him again making him groan louder this time. His thrusts became sporadic and you moved against like a ragdoll unable to keep up with his relentless pace.

Your legs began to shake and your back arched into his chest reaching you first high of the night, gushing all over his cock. You realize he hasn't come and gently push him off you before flipping over to let him take you again from behind.

As expected, Bucky pushed into once again deeper this time and you shuddered under his hand that rested atop your arched back. Bucky smacked and kneaded your ass thrusting in and out. The lewd squelching sound of his thrust mixed with the sound of skin slapping against each other echoed in the room.

"Shit, little one. Taking my cock so fucking well," he reached forward and bunch up your hair pulling your head back harshly.

“Shit,” you mumbled.

Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the sheets as hard as you could. You were approaching your orgasm quickly and you weren't going to be able to hold back any longer. Your pussy clenched around Bucky's cock making him throw his head back in pleasure.

"Please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"You wanna come, darling. You wanna cream all over daddy's cock?"

"Yes! Fuck!" your arms shook before giving out completely; your head buried in the sheets as Bucky continued that same wild and rough pace.

"Please let me come, daddy!"

Your body felt on fire. No one has ever made you feel this good before, it was almost too much, too overwhelming. Tears brimmed your eyes from trying to desperately hold back. You wanted to come with Bucky but seeing as his pace had yet to slow down you were beginning to think he wasn't even close.

"Let go, doll."

Your body squirmed beneath him as you released all over his dick. You came with a near shout, your body violently trembling from the intensity of your high. Bucky slowed his pace for your comfort, gently riding your orgasm slowly down despite his still aching erection.

He languidly rolled you over to your back, his hands softly rubbing your sides up to your breasts. You breathed heavily, eyes feeling droopy, all you could feel in that moment was his cum dripping from you onto the sheets.

Bucky, still knelt on the bed and still chasing his release, lifted your legs over his thighs gripping your hip with one hand and his cock with the other. You squeezed your thighs together when you felt his tip poking at your entrance once again, soft whimpers emitting from you shakily.

"Such a good girl. Gonna let me take you again? Gonna let me keep using you?" he moaned.

"Use me, Buck. I'm all yours," you breathed out.

Bucky pushed himself past your folds once again, your cum easily letting him slide in. Both his hands made home on your hips gripping hardly surely to leave marks for you to remember this very moment. You looked at Bucky as his thrusts slowly began to pick up, bringing your own hands to your breasts to play with your nipples. You twisted the perked buds, moaning softly at the feeling as well as Bucky filling you perfectly once again.

"Filling me up so good, baby," you moaned, arching your back slightly allowing Bucky to hit a newer and deeper angle inside you.

"Pussy was fucking made for me," he growled.

His hand moved from its home on your hip right over your lower belly where he could feel his cock so deep poking his own hand through your tummy.

"Feel how fucking deep I am?"

You moved your hand and he pressed yours in the same spot under his and you moaned loudly, shuddering under him.

His pace quickened and for a moment he thought he was going to finally reach his high, that release he'd been thinking about for hours today, but when he felt you clench again, squeezing his cock tightly and he didn't cum, he knew it was gonna be chase that he didn't know you'd be up for. You gushed all over his dick, back arching and your legs pressing tight around his torso, coming with a loud scream of his name.

Bucky fell forward with tears in his eyes. His skin still felt hot and sticky. His sense felt dialed up to an eleven. It was all so overwhelming and all he wanted was to cum in you and hold you closer whispering how he really loved you. He pressed faint kisses to you equally sticky and warm skin and when you felt warm liquid dripping onto your skin to lift Bucky's head to find him crying.

"What's wrong, baby?"

“I can’t cum. I just wanna cum,” he whined.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok. I can go as many times as you need me to. I want to help you, let me do that.”

“Can- Can you uh… use your mouth please? I want to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock so bad,” he moaned.

“Of course, baby. I’d do anything for you,” you smirked before pushing him and crawling over him holding his dick in your hand.

-

Hours and literally hours had passed until Bucky was finally tired out only having cum three times compared to the fifteen-plus times you had. Your bed laid on the ground; the wooden stands snapped about two hours ago. Most of your sheets were torn to shreds and marks littered your body from your neck down to your hips and your knees from, well you know.

Your body shook as you laid in a fetal position. You burned between your thighs; the soreness overwhelming but pleasant at the same time. Sweat made what was left of the sheets stick to your body until Bucky pulled them from you to clean you. He used a warm towel all over your body with tears in his eyes whispering how sorry he was about everything.

“I swear I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m so sorry. I understand if you hate me now; if you never want to see me again. Just know that I’m so sorry about your bed, the blankets, if I hurt you, everything,” he sniffled, eyes and nose red and puffy.

“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice raspy and croaky from your moaning and screaming all night.

“Y/n,” he whispered back. You pulled him by the back of his neck into a soft yet passionate kiss.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed out when you pulled away. You cupped his face with shaky hands but a smile on your face.

“Do you mean it?”

“Of course. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I’ve dreamt about holding you far too many times, more than I’d like to admit. I should’ve told you sooner but like everyone else, I was scared you didn’t like me back; at least not this way,” he rubbed your legs indicating the intimate love he had for you.

“Buck, it’s virtually impossible for anyone not to fall in love with you. Unless they’re Tony,” you giggled as did he.

“Can you say it?” he asked softly.

“That I love you?” you smiled brushing your nose against his; Bucky practically purred as he nodded.

“I love you, James,” you whispered.

“Fuck, I love you too.”

He laid you down softly again on the broken bed pressing light kisses all over your collarbones and shoulders. You brushed his hair with your fingers as he clung onto you ready to sleep.

“Thank you again, doll. For helping me today,” he said after a couple minutes of silence.

“Of course, my love. Besides I’m the one who ran into you with those damn daisies.”

“Thank god for them then. And for your clumsiness,” Bucky chuckled.

“Meanie,” you snorted, making Bucky laugh even more.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Buck.”

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

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Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@stolenxkissess

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes smut #marvel smut #marvel fics #bucky barnes x you #sex pollen

[sukorakurai]

@snarkyship is a true genius. I commission this Stark Family Portrait and I couldn’t be happier. I wrote a little fic to accompany this fabulous Picture. hope you all enjoy.

Stark Family Picture Day

 By Sukora Kurai

  Tony sighed over the counter in the communal kitchen. He had been there since dawn when he asked Jarvis what day it was. Then his trusty AI informed him of an importance of this month. Now he was stuck with what to do now.

 “Hey Tony what’s got you down?”

 “Hey Capsicle, I’m doomed.”

 “Oh come on Tony, it can’t be that bad you are an Avenger.” Steve smiled as he got out food to make omelets for the Team, and greeted the in coming members. “Morning Nat, morning Bruce.”

 “Morning Steve, what’s wrong with Tony?” Bruce greeted heading to the stove to put the kettle on for his morning tea.

 “Not sure I found him like this.” Steve stated cracking some eggs into a bowl.

 “His and Loki’s anniversary is this month and he has no idea what to get him.” Nat answered pouring a large mug of coffee.

 Tony shot up in his seat and stared slack jawed. “How could you possibly know that?”

 “It’s my job as a shield Agent and Pepper’s PA to keep tabs on you. So it is well documented when you clumsily asked Loki to be your boyfriend during the Lord of the Rings Marathon where you bought out the AMC Theater for the day.” The Spy shrugged ignoring the fact that all her team mates stared at her in horror. All were now wondering what she had on them in those SHIELD files.

 “So Tony, you have and anniversary coming up? Have you though about what Loki might like?” Steve coughed drawing the conversation back to the main topic.

 “No, I don’t. What does one give a god especially one that has magic and can make anything appear out of thin air?” Tony waved his arms in frustration.

 “That is a tough one but I’m sure anything you get him will be fine. Loki loves you Tony.” Bruce tried to be supportive.

 “I hope you will be putting more thought into the gift you give me next month for our anniversary.” Nat gave the Gamma Doctor a pointed before wandering out of the room to start her routine before heading out to work.

 “Ha, I’m not the only one in hot water now!” Tony crowed at the look of devastation in his science-bro’s face.

 “Tony, knock it off. Now in my day it was the thought that counted most. You should find what Loki cherishes the most. You find that then you can present to him in a meaningful way. It’s true he’s a prince and probably has had his other lovers throw jewels and meaningless expensive trinkets at him to win his affections. You know Loki better because you love him and he loves you.” Steve pointed out.

 “Yeah, Lokes complains a lot about his life in Asgard and that there were many who wooed him just to get to Thor. At night when it’s just the two of us and RC snuggled between us he sighs soft and says what a perfect night it is. He never elaborates but I think it means that he likes just the quiet nights with us.” The genius eyes went glazed as he recalled the many nights he cuddled with his god. Then the idea hit him. “Hey Spangles, can you paint or do you just draw?”

 “Huh,” Steve was caught off guard and almost dropped the omelet he was flipping. “I paint from time to time.”

 “Don’t lie babe you are in your studio whenever can get the chance.” Bucky laughed entering the kitchen. “All the paintings in our apartment Stevie did.”

 “Great! Can you do a portrait if I get you a picture?” Tony asked digging in to the ham and cheese omelet.

 “Yeah, it might take two weeks maybe less depends on if we get called out or if SHIELD needs me.” The captain estimated placing another plate in front of his boyfriend.

 “As long as it’s done before the end of the month we’re good.  Jarvis start looking through my photos and pull out any possible portraits.”

 “Yes, sir.”

 “Delicious breakfast as usual Capsicle. I’ll get you the photo as soon as I find one.” Tony dumped his empty plate in sink and ran off to his lab.

 Two hours later…

 “None of these are good enough J.”

 “Sir, might I suggest you take a new photo of you and Prince Loki.”

 “Yeah and RC too, because she’s our baby. We can’t have a Family Portrait without all the family members. Where’s are RC now?”

 “She is currently with Alpine in his play room.”

 “Cool, I think I got the perfect outfit in mind.” Tony grinned as he ran to his emergency closet in the lab. Tony had put in the closet when he realized he destroyed a lot of his clothes during his inventing and building phases. Also there was a suit or two for the days he forgot he was supposed to be in a meeting and had to make a rush to the board room.

  In the penthouse…

  It had been a quiet morning with no call outs, no calls to Asgard and no need to go anywhere. Loki decided to enjoy the peace and quite lounging in his soft Asgardian casual clothes on the couch reading his mother’s spell journal.

 “Hey there, Bambi! It’s Picture Day!”

 “Anthony, what are you on about?” The prince looked up from his book to see his lover carrying their cat into the living room.

 “Well Picture Day refers to the day school kids take pictures for the yearbook and photos are bought for family distribution. Anyways I want to have a family picture that was honest. I never had that growing up because Howard was an asshole and Maria, my mother, was frail. She loved me but she couldn’t express it because she was always ill. Now we have our own little family and I want a picture to put in the lab.”

 “You want to take this picture now? Anthony, I look a mess and how did you get the bow on the cat?”

 “Aww, you look gorgeous, love, as always. Anyways, I put a bow on our baby because RC loves to look pretty for her daddies. Don’t you sweetie.” Tony scratched under the kitty’s chin as they sat on couch next to the god.

 “Mew,” RC purred.

 “Fine, you win, where would you like to take the picture? Also what are you wearing? I don’t believe I’ve seen that outfit before, and what is on your feet?” Loki set his book aside and took in his lover’s appearance.

 “Oh you like? I dressed in red and gold to match my shoes. I had these shoes made based on my Iron Man suit. I thought maybe putting them on the market for kids but I liked them too much to share. So I have a life time supply in the lab. If you want I can have a pair made for you.”

 “No thank you. They clash with my outfit. Now let’s take your picture.” Loki said taking the cat in his arms.

 “Okay, okay. Let me get out my phone.” Tony fished his Stark Phone out of his back pocket and held it out to make them all fit in the frame. “Okay say cheese!”

 “Click”

 “Okay let’s see how that one turned out.” Tony looked at the photo to see him smiling a black blur and a bland look on Loki’s face. “Nope we got try again. This time smile Loki and RC you need to stay still so we can see you.”

 And it went picture by picture they have yet to take a family portrait.

 “Shit I only got half your face.”

 “Anthony your thumb is on the lens.”

 “RC Stay still!”

 “Achoo! Ow! I dropped on my foot!”

 “Do not eat my hair you Retched Creature!”

 “Okay I set it up on a tripod. Now say cheese.”

 “CHEESE BROTHER!” Thor popped up between the two men who stared at shock at the blond god.

 “Next!” Tony rolled his eyes as Loki vanished his brother to where ever. Tony didn’t ask where the Loki sent Thunder god. He rather liked staying in the tower and wanted to keep it that way.

 “Meow!”

 “No RC! Don’t chase the bunny!”

 Three Hours Later…

 “Okay, this is it I can feel it. Now Jarvis is going to take the picture the bunnies are secure in their room. The penthouse is locked down, so no unexpected guest and RC is filled of milk to keep her calm and relaxed. And I promise after we get this picture I will have Jarvis order you favorite meal from the Thai Palace down the street and I’ll rub your feet, while we watch you favorite Harry Potter movies.”

 “Oh Anthony you spoil me. I love you.” Loki sighed as a soft smile graced his face and he leaned into his lover as Tony joined their hands together. RC who was seated now on the god’s shoulder leaned in and purred soaking up the love of her people. The genius couldn’t be happier in that moment as he had his to precious family members with him and the grin on his face was wide and bright.

 “Click.”

 Two Weeks Later…

 “Sir Prince Loki and Mr. Odinson have returned from Asgard.”

 “Great, I got everything ready. Tell Loki that I have dinner ready and waiting.”

 “Yes, sir.” Tony had the table set with Loki’s Favorite food from the five star steak house, they go to. He paid extra to have the chef come over and cook for their anniversary.

 “Ding.”

 “Thank you, Jarvis. Evening Anthony, never in my life had been so glad to leave Asgard. He talked for hours at the council over stagnant topics. What’s all this?”

 “Well my hard working God of Mischief, today is our one year Anniversary and I have planned the perfect evening. Dinner, a bath and I installed a movie screen in our bathroom so we can enjoy the movie of your choice during the bath and then I plan on us making love until dawn.” Tony pulled Loki over to the dinner table, watching as the god’s magic removed the armor and replaced it with comfortable Asgardian wear.

 “You lovely little man, you spoil me so; I don’t deserve it or you.” The Raven pulled the billionaire into his arms and planting kisses all over the man’s face.

 “Yes you do, because I love you and I got you something, well I got Cap to make it, but it was my idea.”

 “You didn’t have to, dinner is more than enough.”

 “No, I wanted to. Now close your eyes and I’ll get your present.” As Loki closed his eyes Tony ran out of the room and grabbed the portrait from where he hid it. He placed it on the wall then Jarvis turned on the lights illuminating the painting. “Okay open them.”

 “Oh Anthony! It’s wonderful.” Loki’s eyes became all misty seeing their little family together and there was so much love radiating from painting. “It’s perfect.”

 “Happy Anniversary Reindeer Games.”

 “Happy Anniversary, my Man of Iron.” Loki whispered pulling Tony in to the sweetest kiss they ever shared. They didn’t hear the click sound of Jarvis capturing the moment with the sunset background. Another memory to save for another day.

 The End.

#fanart #fiction from fanart #iron frost #frostiron #ironfrost #Iron Man #tony x loki #loki x tony #loki #random black cat #tony stark #Avengers #Marvel MCU #Family Portrait

[miracleonice87]

Say You Won’t Let Go

a Sidney Crosby wedding series

Part Four

a/n: it’s finally here -- the last installment! sorry for the long wait, though I don’t think a ton of you have been waiting on this just based on notes, as compared to my Tyler, Mat and Matty T pieces 😜but that’s okay -- I had a ton of fun writing this one and that’s truly all that matters to me. thanks to those who’ve read and enjoyed! ❤️read part one here, part two here, and part three here.

summary: Sidney and Juliette are married at last.

warnings: mention of deceased father. otherwise, so damn fluffy it’s practically cotton candy.

_____

After a full morning of primping and prissing, I was finally tucked away in a small bridal suite deep within the recesses of Heinz Chapel, my pulse racing knowing that I was only yards and a few closed doors away from the man who would soon become my husband.

“You ready to get dressed, Jules?” Lauren asked, rubbing my shoulder soothingly as I nodded.

“Now’s a good a time as any, huh?” I quipped. She grinned, moving to unzip the garment bag containing my gown, hanging on a curtain rod.

“It’s even more perfect than I remember,” I said softly.

“Well, that’s good, because it would be a little tricky to do anything about it now,” Stephanie chuckled, sipping her champagne. I reached for my own glass, rolling my eyes playfully. Lauren and Nathalie worked to pull the dress off the hanger carefully, and Nathalie held the back of the dress open, smiling at me.

“Come on, love,” she coaxed. I turned to Trina, already misty-eyed, sitting in front of a makeup mirror, and motioned for her to join me.

“Will you help me?” I asked. Trina’s eyes flooded even more as she whispered, “Of course.”

She squeezed my hand and came to stand in front of me, Nathalie standing behind, both women grasping the dress as I untied my robe and passed it off to Alexa. I was self-conscious for a brief moment of the white lingerie and garter I was clad in, intended specifically for Trina’s son’s eyes, but the moment was too meaningful for me to focus for too long on that, and Trina was concentrating on lifting the dress onto my shoulders anyway. She smiled at me as she tucked the delicate gown around me, holding it against me as Nathalie fastened it in the back.

After a few moments, Nathalie said in nearly a singsong, “Okay, take a look.” She and Trina dropped their hands, the two of them and my bridesmaids gasping, my relatives already swiping at tears.

I picked up the skirt at my knees and headed for the mirror, stopping in my tracks when my eyes met my reflection.

“This feels like a dream,” I breathed, turning in the mirror to see all angles. Nathalie stood at my side, holding the headband and veil.

“Well, it’s about to get even dreamier,” she said as I bent a bit at the knee to allow her to adorn my hair with the finishing touches.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

“Just a minute,” Nathalie called. “It’s probably your uncle.” I nodded, Nathalie stepping back from me to examine her work. Lauren approached and the two of them decided that the look was complete, and I nodded in the mirror as I took one more look at myself. I kissed her and Trina’s cheeks before shuffling over to the door.

“Okay, who is it?” I asked through the heavy oak wood.

“It’s me, princesse,” Mario’s voice replied. I smiled, pulling the door open and hiding behind it until he entered the room and pushed it closed behind him, then looked to me.

“Wow,” he began, his voice cracking. “Oh, Juliette… you look stunning.” He took hold of my hands and leaned down to kiss my cheek, being careful not to smudge my makeup.

“Do you like it?” I asked softly, feeling like a little child playing dress up.

“Like it?” Mario shook his head. “It’s breathtaking. You look so beautiful. Just wait until your groom gets a look at you,” he added, smirking in his charming way. I beamed under his praise. “You look so handsome in your suit, like always,” I told him, smoothing the grey fabric around his boutonnière. He smiled, but his eyes signaled that he had come here for a different reason than for us to compliment each others’ attire.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he told me after a noticeable pause, still holding one of my hands. “Would that be okay?” I nodded slowly, a bit anxious.

Mario and Nathalie exchanged a look, one I had seen many times, and I sighed. She suggested that the others in the room get dressed, too, in an enclosed part of the suite. Mario motioned for me to take a seat on the old-fashioned fainting couch, sitting down next to me as the other women left us alone.

“This is about my mom, isn’t it?” I asked point blank.

Mario’s eyes widened a bit and I could hear the surprise in his voice when he asked, “How did you know?”

I shrugged. “I saw the look you gave Auntie Nat,” I said. “It’s not the first time.”

Mario nodded, looking down a bit sullenly. “I guess I should’ve known that,” he sighed. “But listen, your mother just got here, a few minutes ago. She called me - she’s in the parking lot.”

My palms grew clammy and my mouth went dry at his words. He squeezed my knee reassuringly as he continued.

“She asked me if she could come up and see you,” Mario added. “I told her all I could do was ask, that the decision is fully yours. She asked me to tell you that she’d like to give you something ahead of the ceremony. Something she’d like you to have with you today.”

I drew a deep breath through my nose, focusing on the stained glass window across from me. As I toyed with the decision in my mind, sunshine suddenly flooded the room, casting colored light across me and my uncle, the beam seeming to come out of nowhere.

I closed my eyes and basked in the warmth — this wasn’t the first time light had shone on me suddenly. In fact, it had first happened the day we buried my dad, as the sun burst out from behind a cloud the moment I dropped a rose onto his casket. I still got the same comfort, the same reassurance, each time it happened as I did when I was a girl.

“Okay,” I whispered, eyes fluttering open. “You can send her up.” I felt a peace even as I uttered the words.

Mario studied me closely. “Are you sure, princesse?” he asked cautiously. I nodded, looking him in the eye. “I’m sure,” I promised. “That’s what my dad would want.”

Mario smiled sadly and leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “You have a beautiful heart, my Juliette,” he told me proudly. “I’ll go get her.” I nodded, and he left the suite with one last careful glance back at me.

Lauren opened the door from the other side of the suite, and the expression she wore told me she had heard the conversation.

“You okay, Jules?” she asked gently, coming to wrap me in a hug as I stood. I nodded.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I told her. “Honestly, it wasn’t completely unexpected. I’ve wondered if something like this might happen.” She offered a small smile.

“We’re gonna let the two of you have your moment, but if you need me, just say so. Promise?” Lauren requested. I squeezed her hand. “Promise,” I replied. “God, you look amazing! I can’t wait to see all of you together,” I told her abruptly, taking in how beautiful she looked in the dusty blue bridesmaid dress we had picked out together months ago. She scrunched her nose and gave me a bright grin.

“Thanks, sis,” she said. “I’m glad you think so. Okay, I’ll see you in a few, yeah?” I nodded, thanking her softly as she disappeared again behind the door.

A few minutes later, a knock came again at the door. I steeled myself, taking a deep breath, and opened the door to see my mother, dressed in a modest sage green dress, clutching her small purse so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.

“Hi, Mom,” I greeted quietly, motioning for her to enter the room. She did so hesitantly, but once I closed the door behind her, I opened my arms for a hug anyway. She began to cry as she embraced me, and I was surprised by how overwhelmingly calm I felt, not feeling teary myself.

“You look beautiful,” she whispered, gazing up and down the length of my gown. “Thank you,” I said softly.

After inviting her to have a seat, she got right down to business — standard fare for her.

“Now, I know we don’t have long, but I wanted to give you something,” she started. “I’ve held onto this since we lost your dad, and… and I know he would want you to have it. Not just for today, but to keep. I don’t know, maybe you already have something old and something blue, but… but if not, this could maybe be both for you today,” she said, voice quivering.

I’d been frozen since the mention of my dad, and remained so as my mother produced a small velvet box. She handed it to me, nodding toward me to open it myself.

Slowly, I lifted the lid and immediately recognized the memento inside.

“Daddy’s ring…” I began, finally dissolving into tears, reaching for a tissue on the end table beside me to salvage my makeup.

“You remember,” my mother pointed out. I looked at her and nodded. “Of course I remember. Sapphire — his birthstone,” I said.

She let out a hum in approval as I slid it onto my middle finger. “Yes. Your grandparents gave it to him on his eighteenth birthday,” she recalled. I knew that, too, but I decided not to say so, appreciative of her gesture.

“Thank you, Mom,” I breathed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She squeezed me tightly and kissed my cheek, the most affection she had displayed toward me for many years. I sniffled, dabbing at my eyes again as I pulled away from her.

“You’re welcome, Juliette,” she said. “I know we don’t have the kind of relationship that many mothers and daughters do, and I’m sorry about that, truly. But I want you to know that I love you deeply, and that your father is undoubtedly smiling on you, today and every day.”

I managed a small smile, choosing not to delve any further into the subjects she had broached. Instead, I settled for telling her, “I know he is. And I love you, too.”

That much was true, as difficult as she was.

She sighed, squeezing my wrist. “Well, I should be going,” she said, standing. I felt a stabbing in my soul at her rushed exit, but I didn’t allow myself to dwell upon it.

“Okay,” I said tightly. “Well, thank you — thanks for coming up here, and for the ring. It means a lot.” She leaned in to kiss my cheek once more.

“You’re welcome, Juliette,” she said. “Congratulations. I wish you and Sidney a lifetime of happiness. He seems like a wonderful man.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from spewing the first words that came to mind — if you took the time and made the effort to get to know your own son-in-law, you would know how wonderful he is.

Instead, I gave a single nod.

“Thanks again, Mom,” I said in farewell, walking her toward the door. With one last squeeze of my hand, she headed down the hallway.

I turned around to see Nathalie, Lauren, and Trina slowly emerge from the doorway across from me. I put my hands in front of me, placating them.

“I’m okay,” I promised firmly. The three of them nodded, each coming toward me with a hug and words of praise and encouragement. As the other girls joined us in the room, all now dressed, I extended my hand to show them the ring.

“I don’t know if you heard her, but… it was my dad’s. She’s held onto it all this time. It’s a little big, but… I still want to wear it,” I said, each of them taking turns to catch a glimpse of the piece.

Taylor let go of my hand and held one pointer finger in the air. 

“I have an idea,” she spoke, heading for the plastic tote filled with our peony and eucalyptus bouquets. Soon she retrieved a spool of white silk ribbon from the box and a pair of scissors from one of Lauren’s emergency wedding day kits. She held out her hand and I placed the ring in her palm. Carefully, she wrapped the ribbon over itself again and again around the back of the ring, using my finger to size it appropriately.

“I used to do this with my old prom jewelry,” Taylor told me, smirking. “Vero, can you hand me one of those tiny safety pins?”

Veronique dug in the kit and came up with the object she was hunting, Taylor fastening the pin to the silk and returning the ring to me. I pushed the ring past my knuckle, and it fit much more snugly.

“Thanks, Tay,” I said to my soon-to-be sister-in-law. “It’s perfect,” I added. I kissed her cheek as she smiled approvingly.

Nathalie approached, taking my hand in hers. She kissed the ring and whispered, “He’s always with you. You know that.” I nodded and we embraced, then heard a knock on the door.

“It’s time, my loves,“ Mario called from the other side. I could hear the smile in his voice when he added, “Sidney’s waiting.”

At his statement, my eyes widened, and reality quickly flooded my consciousness.

“Oh, my god!” I exclaimed. “I’m getting married!” The women around me laughed as Alexa let her father into the room.

“There’s still time to run,” Taylor added playfully. Mario nodded emphatically in agreement. “I’ll even drive the getaway car,” he promised.

I chuckled and shook my head. “Not in a million years,” I told them confidently.

With one last round of hugs and kisses, we all headed down the staircase to the narthex in the back of the church where the groomsmen stood waiting. The first person I locked eyes with from across the marble floor with was Nate, whose mouth dropped open upon seeing me.

“Wow,” he breathed. Mario chuckled from behind me. “Took the words right out of my mouth,” Mario quipped. Nate took long strides toward me and grabbed my hands, distancing himself to take in the full view before hugging me tightly.

“Look at you!” he exclaimed. “You look so incredible, Jules. Sidney is about to lose his mind.” Nate kissed my cheek and I squeezed his arm.

“I hope so,” I added. He rolled his eyes, amused by my questioning of his statement, and assured, “I know so.”

As I bit my lip and smiled appreciatively at Nate, our wedding planner entered the narthex silently from a side door, a grin across her features.

“We’re all set, Juliette,” she told me giddily. “Your groom is waiting for you.”

Our wedding party let out quiet cheers and muted claps as they paired off as rehearsed the night before. Meanwhile, I turned to Mario, who offered me his strong arm to grasp onto.

“Here we go, princesse,” he said gently. “This is your moment.” I nodded, feeling mostly calm despite the uptick in my pulse. As we walked to the side of the narthex, the doors swung open and I heard the processional musicians begin to play. With that, Jacqueline and Geno headed down the aisle, followed by the rest of our wedding party, two by two.

My hands began to shake as I watched Lauren and Nate step up to make their entrance, the last bridesmaid and groomsman pair. As if she could sense my nerves from yards away, Lauren looked my way and gave me a wink.

“This is it, babe,” she whispered quickly. “You got this.” I cast a thankful nod her way just as she and Nate entered the sanctuary, the wedding planner instructing our ushers to close the doors behind our flower girls and ring bearers once they entered the chapel.

Realizing the shift in the music and what the next moments signaled, I froze as Mario stepped forward, stopping short when he realized my feet were cemented to the ground. He ran his fingers gently over the edge of the veil covering my face and gave me a warm smile.

“Take a breath,” he whispered soothingly. I did as he instructed, and he sidled up to me again. Not for the first time this weekend, I was thankful that he could read me so well, just as my father had. “Are you okay?” Mario patted my hand as I slipped it around his upper arm. Before I could answer, I heard the priest ask our guests to rise from their seats, and the wedding planner signaled the ushers to swing the doors open once more.

When I caught the first glimpse of Sidney, his eyes widened and immediately filled with tears as I stepped over the threshold, both of us sniffling as we gazed longingly at each other, overwhelmed by this long-awaited moment.

Mario breathed a quiet laugh as he watched Sidney swipe at fallen tears. “Yeah, you’re okay. That’s it. Just look at Sidney,” he encouraged. “I’ve got you.”

I could have sworn that I floated the remaining distance down the aisle before Mario stopped us, standing between Sidney and me and giving us both tender looks as the priest began the ceremony with a prayer, during which Sidney and I stole blushing glances at each other like children.

When the prayer concluded, the priest turned to Mario and asked, “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

My hand automatically squeezed his bicep and he looked at me with adoration before answering the priest. “Her family and I do.”

Tears stung my eyelids as Mario turned to me, and I whispered my gratitude for his perfect response as he lifted my veil gently. Mario leaned in to kiss my cheek and whispered, “I love you, princesse.”

I squeezed his hands tightly and whispered, “I love you. Thank you.” With a wink, Mario turned to Sidney and placed my hands into his, wrapping an arm around Sidney’s shoulders as Sidney let go of one of my hands to return the embrace. While I couldn’t hear their exchange, I knew all I needed to know as I watched them nod at each other with damp, red eyes before Mario retreated to his seat in the front row.

As the priest instructed Sidney and I to face each other and join hands, we locked eyes for the first time at close range. Sidney’s face lit up as he whispered, “Hi, love.” I scrunched my nose at him and whispered, “Hi, handsome,” just as his thumb swept over the large sapphire ring on my middle finger.

“Where did this come from?” he asked quietly as he examined it for a beat.

“It was my dad’s,” I whispered back. Sidney picked his face up to look into mine carefully, understanding the gravity of the moment and the accessory itself.

“Perfect,” he whispered, squeezing the ring tightly before loosening his grip on my hands and taking a deep breath as the priest spoke up once more, giving a brief introduction before beginning the vow portion of the ceremony, as Sidney and I stared, smiling, at each other, in disbelief that this day, this time, had finally come.

The priest began. “Sidney, do you take this woman, whose hands you hold, choosing her alone to be your wedded wife? Do you promise to live in the state of true matrimony? Do you vow to love her, comfort her, through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, honor her at all times, and be faithful to her, until death do you part?”

Sidney nodded once and solemnly answered, “I do.”

The priest then posed the same to me, to which I responded, “I do,” with a broad smile at Sidney.

“Now, Sidney and Juliette will exchange the vows they have written to one another,” the priest announced.

Nate handed Sidney a small piece of paper and I felt my heartbeat quicken. I inhaled slowly through my nose and tried to relax, my entire body coursing with anticipation of what Sidney would say.

“My sweet Juliette...” Sidney began, voice unsteady. He opened his mouth to say more, but then pressed his lips together in a tight line as I watched tears well in his hazel eyes. My heart swelled.

I pulled a hand free from his hold and reached up just briefly to swipe my thumb across the apple of his cheek, catching one fallen tear. Sidney gave me an appreciative look, seeming to draw strength from the gesture, before turning my wrist to press a kiss to my palm and squeeze my hand in his, eliciting soft “aww”s from the crowd.

“Okay, geez, let’s try this again, eh?” he suggested lightly, our joined hands settling between us again. I heard the distinct chuckles of his parents and Mario and Nathalie from the front of the crowd, along with those of his groomsmen and my bridesmaids, before everyone fell quiet again. I nodded, encouraging him. Sidney drew a deep breath and continued.

“My sweet, beautiful Juliette,” he added, raising his eyebrows and looking me in the eye as he enunciated the added adjective. “I count it a privilege to spend all of my days with you. If I were to wake tomorrow and have lost all of my earthly possessions, recognitions, and livelihood, I would give thanks, as long as I still had you to call mine.”

It was my turn to cry now. As my groom spoke, Nate stepped forward from his place behind Sidney and produced a handkerchief from his inner jacket pocket, reaching to press it into my palm, sweetly squeezing my forearm for a beat before taking his position again.

Sidney cast a grateful glance Nate’s way as he paused his vows for a moment, and I dabbed my eyes and commented, “Merci. What a best man,” making Sid and our bridal party laugh softly.

Sidney cleared his throat and went on. “You have had to shield yourself from much pain and darkness throughout your life, more than you deserve, more than anyone deserves. You have always been careful to put up walls to protect your heart. Juliette... from this day forward, I will be your shield. I promise to protect you. I promise to do everything in my power to make my heart and my arms your home, and to make our physical home a place of shelter, solace, and unending love. From this day forward, you will not walk alone.”

As he spoke, I continued to dab furiously at the corners of my eyes with the hankie to avoid smearing my makeup all over my face. Sidney licked his lips and smoothed his thumb over the back of my hand as he finished his vow.

“Juliette, you are the person who brings me my greatest joys, and you are the person I want at my side in the midst of my deepest sorrows, which life is sure to throw our way as we embark on this journey as one. For all the days of my life, I will hold you as my greatest treasure, and when our prayers for a family of our own are someday soon realized, I will hold our children in the same regard. Thank you for entrusting me with your future and with our legacy. Thank you for choosing me to be your partner and the person with whom you raise a family. Thank you for giving your heart to me. I promise to keep it safe, always. This is my vow to you, Juliette.”

The remaining air had been forced from my lungs during Sidney’s final remarks as my shoulders shuddered a few times, sobs escaping me. We swapped duties as he ghosted his thumb underneath both my eyes. Taking a mental picture of the tender moment, I whispered, “Thank you. For everything.”

He nodded. “Don’t worry — your makeup is perfect. You’re breathtaking,” Sidney whispered back. I smiled at my sweet groom.

As the priest announced that it was my turn to deliver my vows, I inhaled deeply and retrieved my notes from Lauren, as Sidney steadied his feet firmly beneath him in subtle preparation.

“Sidney, mon cœur,” (my heart/sweetheart), I began. “You are a gift, of which I am so undeserving, but eternally grateful. You walked into my life when I was a young woman struggling to find her way. When I found you... I knew. I suddenly knew the way. I knew the path that I was destined to walk for the rest of my days. Nothing in my life had ever been easy, until you.”

I looked up to see Sidney’s face pinched in emotion as he attempted to hold back tears. I squeezed my fingers around his.

“You are so easy to love. You make each day better for me, simply because I can rest assured that you will be there when I wake up in the morning and when I lie my head on the pillow again at night. I know that you will be there to hold me, to strengthen me, to comfort me, to watch over me, to laugh with me, to care for me, and, sometimes, to cry with me. Mon amour (my love), you are the most remarkable person I have ever met. You have the entire world at your fingertips, and you have reached heights that many will never see. And yet, you take pride that I call you mine. You take pride in calling me yours. You look at me as though I hung the moon and stars. In my world, that’s what you did for me,” I told him, my voice starting to shake.

“You hung my moon, my stars. You have served as my sunshine, my lighthouse, my compass, and my refuge. Today, you take on the role of becoming my husband, and one day, you will take on the role of becoming a father to our children. Our children will know what true, unconditional, compassionate love looks like, because of the way that you love me, and because of the way that I know you will love them.”

After a long exhale left his lips, I saw Sidney reach his hand to nudge his nose as he sniffled gently, eyes damp and pooled with affection. I drew circles on his thumb with my own to soothe him.

“My sweetest love, thank you for choosing me to be yours, both now and forevermore. Je t'aimerai toute une vie,” (I will love you for a lifetime) I told him, my voice watery. “This is my vow to you, Sidney.”

With tears streaking his face, Sidney shook his head.

“Thank you, my love,” he whispered, lifting my hands to his lips to kiss my knuckles. After wiping the back of his hand across his face, Sidney joked to the priest, “Can I kiss her yet or what?” His impatience caused the crowd who heard his question to erupt in laughter, breaking up the weight of the moment. The priest laughed, too, and said, “We’re almost there.”

The priest then blessed the rings which Nate and Lauren presented to him and returned them to Sidney and me to exchange, instructing us to repeat after him to deliver what would be our last lines of the ceremony.

As I slid the ring onto Sidney’s finger, I said, “Sidney, with this ring, I thee wed, and with it pledge myself to thee.”

Sidney smirked giddily at the new addition and switched hands to place my wedding band on my finger, repeating the same promise.

At last, the priest pronounced us husband and wife.

“Sidney, you may now kiss your bride,” he said.

Sidney whispered, “Finally,” and grasped my hips tightly as he kissed me so deeply that I found myself leaning backwards in his hold, our guests cheering mightily.

In that passionate yet tender moment, the realization washed over me once more, standing enwrapped in Sidney’s hold, that he would make good on his promise never to let me go.

#say you won’t let go x sidney crosby #sidney crosby #sidney crosby writing #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby fanfic #sidney crosby fanfiction #crosby #hockey #hockeyblr #hockey writing #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl writing #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #fluff #sidney crosby fluff #hockey fluff #nhl fluff #mario lemieux #pittsburgh penguins

[yikeswtfmate]

Puzzle

previous part // It’s All Fun and Games Series Masterlist // main masterlist

Summary: Bucky and Y/N answer one question.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: might it be...spring? 👀

A cherry blossom petal falls and slides over a bare shoulder, golden flowers inlaid into a loose braid glimmer in the light of the sun, and two wide eyes – incredulous, delighted, in love – shift every few seconds, trying to imprint every single moment of this day. There are birds chirping in the distance, muffled by the steady flow of soft conversations just feet away from her. The crisp white curtains float behind her, on a dance played by the breeze – lilac in nature, a soft undertone of water, where frogs sing their song.

There’s a flurry of hair and dresses around her, and the only constant is her father – misty eyed, although he promised he won’t cry. They both knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his word, especially when their eyes lock above three little giggling girls with baskets of flowers dangling from their tiny hands. She shakes her head once at him, he smiles, but covers his mouth with a trembling hand.

Her mother places a hand on his forearm, whispering words of encouragement, a wink in her direction. She might be the tougher one between them both, yet her mascara is already smudged. A grunt from her sister, and their mother is ushered out, complaints and mumbles ignored. A last unspoken conversation, fingers squeezed tightly, and her sister follows the path laid by the distinct chords of the music.

Two redheads in front of her now, and she might just crumble, if it weren’t for their arms around her bare back. Flowers to the side – don’t crush them, be careful – and two distinct pecks on her cheeks, a nudge and a pinch on her arm and she giggles through the tears before they’re also gone.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Her father asks, and she can’t say it, she’s choked up, she’s barely holding it all together, because yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes.

Her hand looped around his arm, she takes a step – one, two, three, careful now, do not trip, and she’s temporarily blinded by the sudden sunlight. She blinks a few times, trying to get used to it, her father’s presence a monolith beside her, steeling her against the tears that have tried to spill for the past week.

She’s sure this might do it – the sudden hush, the music caressing her ears, her pounding heart; she could just fall to the ground, in a white cloud of lace and organza. Until she opens her eyes and there it is. The reason behind her tears, her smiles, her trembling hands, her happiness, her love, her I love you more every day.

He’s mesmerised, words and thoughts abandoning him, because there’s nothing else he sees but her, her, her. He can only see years of laughter, dancing fingers, tugging lips, and crinkled noses; of good morning, you big dummy, of I don’t want to go out, let’s just spend the day in bed, of I can’t believe we didn’t realise it sooner.

He can only say I promise, I promise, I promise until the end of time – you. Only you, forever. And there’s a battle of smiles and tears, but they can’t do anything more than squeeze each other’s hands, promising, promising, promising. She says I love you – only you, forever, but that’s an old one, lost in the fabric of time, feeling like forever ago, yet it’s the only answer in their universe, the one constant truth.

Rings slipping on fingers, fitting into place like missing pieces in a game of an unknown jigsaw puzzle – never to be moved again. Two whispers – I do, and then. And then, and then, and then forever.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

It’s darker now, sky set ablaze until the stars blinked open their eyes, competing with the lanterns hanging above laughter, whispers, shouts and giggles. Their heads are pressed together, breaths mingling and she can taste the sweet tang of champagne on his lips. His arm is draped over the back of her chair, her knees between his, face to face, crinkled eyes and still staring in wander.

“Baby.” He murmurs, because he doesn’t want the spell to break – this precious gift he’s been given, that he’s still afraid might run away. “We’ve done it. We’re married. I can call you my wife now.”

“Isn’t it great?” She giggles. “Bucky, my husband. You’re James, my husband, now.”

A knife tapped on a glass and slowly the chatter dies down, guests turn in their seats and Steve is suddenly looking flustered. He might be a great lawyer, but this might be one of the most important speeches he’ll ever have to utter. He clears his throat, tugs at his collar and looks at Peggy for a second, asking for silent support. She smiles and nods, waiting for him to start.

“Good evening, everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, then you’ve probably only met the groom today as well. Bucky and I have been inseparable for nearly 30 years and I’d like to thank him for finally confirming that I am indeed his best friend after all this time of having to listen to him berate me for every single thing.

“Today I am supposed to say a few words about the main man – about whom I can honestly say that he’s the most handsome, most intelligent and funniest man you’ll ever meet and I am so proud of calling him my friend. So if you bump into him today – where’s Tony? Today is his birthday so please let him know that we haven’t forgotten about him, he’ll have his party after this wedding is done – happy birthday, Tony!”

A ripple of laughter, followed by a wave of “happy birthday, Tony!” and Steve shakes his head, getting into his element. Bucky chuckles when Y/N whistles next to him, whooping in delight.

“In all seriousness now, I’ve also known Y/N for almost 12 years now, when this little Tasmanian devil showed up with 50 balloons at a bar, letting us all know that – hey, did you know it takes 364 licks to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?” His voice turns a few notes higher, until it’s only a squeak, earning another wave of laughter.

“I’m so happy for both of you that Bucky is also a weirdo and instead of hitting on you like a normal person, he just let you know that the blob of toothpaste that sits on your toothbrush is called a nurdle. It was meant to be, wasn’t it?

“You’d think so, but we all have to remember that these two are two complete and utter dumbasses. It only took them ten years of friendship – which mind you, that is not how friends act, ok? I’m sorry to the parents that are here tonight, but your children think they can regularly have sleepovers and only be friends? You’ve raised two dense kids, and you can’t get mad at me, because I’m part of both your families, ok?

“It only took them ten years of friendship to realise the utter love and adoration they have for each other. I’ve never seen Bucky happier than when he’s with Y/N and I think I speak for everyone here tonight who knows you two how excited and proud we all are to finally be able to call you Mr and Mrs Barnes.

“Now Bucky has been with me through thick and thin and I can hand to heart say he’s the most loyal, genuine gentleman I’ve ever known. But you also have to remember that Buck here doesn’t like to be the center of attention, so I was more than certain that today he’d be a nervous wreck. This morning, however, he was the calmest I’ve ever seen him. I asked him ‘Buck, this is the most important day of your life and you’re not nervous?’ and you know what he said?

“He said ‘Steve, when you know you’ve made the best decision of your life, when you know you get to spend the rest of your life with the person who’s made you the happiest you’ve ever been, what the hell is there to be nervous about?’ This perfectly sums up the love this man has for his wife. I couldn’t have hoped for anyone better for either of you.

“I wish you both a long and happy marriage together. I know that you always said you’re soulmates, but I didn’t believe it until I’ve seen you two today. You were truly meant to love each other. So, everyone, please raise your glasses to the bride and groom, Y/N and Bucky! Congratulations!”

The cheers and applause die down long after Steve’s downed his glass of champagne. A long hug between the boys, Bucky might be in tears, but he’ll be damned if he lets Sam see it. Y/N is crying, it’s their big day and she’ll ruin her make-up, they have enough photos, who cares anymore, because she’s feeling too deeply, too many emotions that could never be bottled up. Steve laughs at her, a giggle on her lips and they sway from side to side in a tight hug – “you two made us all believe in true love,” he whispers and she might need that tissue Bucky is holding out for her.

She pulls herself together, takes in a deep breath and looks at Bucky, her Bucky, like he’s hung the moon – now and forever. His gaze follows her as she stands up again, clearing her throat and shaking her shoulders. Someone hands her a microphone. He has no idea what she has planned, but he’ll sit there and listen to her all his life as if her words are nectar and he’s a starved man.

“Hi. I haven’t done anything to prepare for this speech and if you know me at all, you wouldn’t be surprised about this in the least.” He laughs together with the rest, and Nat shouts an encouragement from somewhere down the table.

“I just wanted to stand up and thank you all for being here with us today, on what must be one of the happiest days of my life yet. I cannot express in words how much this man means to me, or the love I hold for him, but I’ll try.” Y/N says and her fingers find his, a glint in her eyes.

“Bucky has been my best friend for twelve years now, and although Steve would never admit it, I love him more than anyone else in this entire world. Also, I’m sorry, Mrs Barnes, move over, there’s a new Mrs Barnes in town! I’m joking, I love you, please don’t take me off the Christmas list.

She fully turns to him now, tears in her eyes, and Bucky knows in that moment that he could die right there and he’d have been the happiest man alive.

“As I was saying, this gorgeous man has been my rock, my anchor, my pillar in times of happiness and sadness. He’s the most kind, most loving, and most generous person I’ve ever met. He’s been there for me when I was at my worst and at my best. He’s seen me with bangs, and he’s seen me crying at 3 in the morning because we didn’t have any ice cream left.

“James Barnes is my soulmate. We’ve admitted this many times before, we’ve shouted it on top of our lungs, we’ve tattooed it on our bodies. I’m not joking, mom, I’m sorry, that is a J, not just half of a heart; which you should’ve known couldn’t be possible because he holds my entire heart, not just half of it. I love this man with my entire being, I’ve never been happier than when you hold my hand. You bring order to my chaos, you bring out all that’s best in me, you bring me sunshine and laughter and all that’s sweet in life just by looking at me.

“I’m so grateful that I’ve met you and I never could have imagined that I will ever know a love so deep. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you, because I know each day will be a new adventure. You’re my soulmate and I love you, James Barnes.”

There’s a ruckus as each person stands up, clapping, shouting, whistling and whooping – a clamour of noise that gets drowned out the second Bucky’s arms circle around her waist. He’s crying now – fully and unabashed. He loves this woman more than he’ll ever love anyone else, and it’s in the way her fingers brush across the hair at his nape, the way her body aligns so perfectly with his, the way her mouth curves in the softest smile when he kisses her lips, the way her eyes will always tell him I love you, I love you, I love you. You, only you, for the rest of my life.

“I love you too, baby.”

***

The End.

A/N: It’s been a true rollercoaster and I loved every minute of it. IAFAG has been my first baby, and the first actual series that I’ve written. I’ve never attempted anything on this scale, but I can only say that I definitely don’t regret it, it’s been fun, it’s been great and these Bonky & Reader will always always always will have a special place in my heart.

I would like to thank all of you for reading and loving this series. The positive feedback, love and the overflow of support has been not only unexpected, but I couldn’t have even hoped for something like this! I love all of you, thank you!

Lastly, thank you to @the-chocolate-moose​ for supporting me along every single step of this, for listening to me spewing bullshit on a daily basis, reading said bullshit at 2 in the fucking morning bc I cannot function like a normal human being, letting me know when I’m losing the characters and all in all for being a wonderful person! I love you, this whole series is yours as much as it’s mine!

#it's all fun and games #yikeswtfmate #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine

[janeykath318]

I Do Times 3 (pt. 3)

“It’s time.”

Melinda Said these words and Daisy’s heart jumped into her throat. Finally. She was going to marry the love of her life and nothing horrible had ruined it. After the way most of her life went, she’d been almost ingrained to expect the universe to throw a wrench in her happiness. This time, though, she was finally getting her happily ever after, with the world’s most adorable, sweet dork of a man.

“Quick! Let’s get a selfie together!” Darcy urged, beckoning Daisy and Natasha over. “Hashtag: Bout to put a ring on it!” They obliged her quickly, smiling at her boundless enthusiasm. Bouquets were collected, deep breaths taken, and the bridal parties left their seclusion to go get married.

Their chosen escorts waited for them just outside the doors of the ballroom where the ceremony was being held. Daisy was embraced by the one, the only, Phil Coulson, who was looking suspiciously emotional.

“You look beautiful, Daisy,” he told her. “Are you ready?”

“Absolutely, AC,” she confirmed, taking his arm.

Darcy was engulfed by Thor, who was smiling even wider than usual.

“Lightning sister! You make a lovely bride. I wish you much joy.”

“Thanks, big guy,” Darcy said, hugging him back. “I’m so glad you could be here.”

“I would not miss this for the world,” Thor proclaimed. “Such a joyous event!”

Clint Barton gaped at his best friend and grew decidedly misty-eyed.

“Wow, Nat. You look great. Steve’s gonna flip out.”

“Like the time you painted his shield bright yellow?” Nat replied with a touch of a smirk.

“No. In a GOOD way,” Clint said, shuddering a bit at the memory of a wrathful Captain America confronting him over the prank. He’d learned his lesson thoroughly that day.

She chuckled. “His speechless face is pretty darn cute, I admit. I expect that’s what I’ll see in there.” She took Clint’s arm and waited for the music cue, very ready to make things official with her soulmate.

The bridesmaids meandered down the aisle, followed by the adorable flower girls, Alya and Morgan.

“Damn!” Darcy whispered appreciatively when she got her first glimpse of the grooms in all their tuxedoed glory. They looked, well, gorgeous, to put it mildly.

“Damn is right,” Daisy agreed. “They sure don’t make them like that anymore.”

“No, they do not,” Nat agreed. “Now step it up before I make a run for him.”

With laughter on their lips and joy in their hearts, the brides began their walk toward their soon to be husbands.

Steve was looking downright poleaxed, but also exceedingly happy and he beamed very warmly at Nat, who smiled right back. The man was downright majestic in his tux and she was ready to pledge her allegiance for life.

Daniel’s expression was a mixture of awe and adoration, which was pretty much his default setting around Daisy, but this time she could see an even deeper emotion in his misty dark eyes.

As for Bucky, well, he was looking a little overwhelmed, but the closer Darcy got to him, the more he seemed to relax and let her see that adorable smile. He looked downright delectable in the black tux that fit him very well and she gave him a “very impressed” wink.

The logistics of a triple wedding ceremony certainly were interesting, but Pepper had planned everything with her usual skill and efficiency and it went very smoothly. There were a few memorable moments, such as Darcy responding to being asked “Do You take this man to be your husband?” with a rather loud “Heck, yes, I do!!”

Bucky grinned and everybody else chuckled.

“That’s the spirit, Darce,” Clint muttered under his breath, grinning.

All vows were said and rings exchanged without incident, much to everyone’s relief. To top it off, the first kiss ended up with all three grooms dipping the brides, which elicited much cheering and whistling from their friends and family.

“Oh, my.” Darcy gasped. “You sure know how to make a girl weak in the knees, Mr. Barnes. Did you guys plan this?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Barnes,” he replied saucily. “And yes we did. Steve’s idea, actually.”

“I don’t believe you.” She promptly replied, seeing the mischief in his eyes.

“Okay, so I suggested it,” Bucky admitted. “But he was very enthusiastic about the idea.”

“I would say so,” Darcy agreed, eyeing the Captain, who had gone back for a quick repeat of said kiss.

Bucky shook his head admiringly. “To think that is the same guy who could barely talk to a woman, let alone get to first base? Good for Stevie.”

Darcy laughed and steered him towards her brothers, who were eager to congratulate them.

“Jeez, Daniel! You’re a man of many surprises!” Laughed Daisy as she steadied herself against her new husband. She knew he was a good kisser, but she had not been expecting THAT, especially in front of other people. Daniel was generally not comfortable with big public displays of affection, so she’d been taken by surprise when he’d dipped her into a very thorough first kiss.

Blushing, he looked at her with that adorable sheepish grin she knew and loved.

“Well, when I heard what Rogers and Barnes were planning, I figured why not? It’s our wedding, after all.”

Planting a kiss on her husband’s cheek, Daisy beamed at him and took his hand again as they were surrounded by the well-wishes of their found family.

“I’m impressed, Steve,” Natasha said rather breathlessly. “You’ve come a long way from our first undercover kiss.”

“Practice makes perfect, right?” he said with a smirk, though his face showed a decided flush.

Natasha giggled and leaned her head against his chest.

“Don’t go getting complacent on me now, Rogers,” she told him playfully.

“Never.” Steve promised firmly, the look in his eyes backing up his words.

#wintershock #Romanogers #dousy #Darcy Lewis #bucky barnes #Steve Rogers #natasha romanoff #daisy johnson #Daniel Sousa

[thebrokenblackman]

KRS-One - “Ah Yeah!”  Critical Analysis by Hakeem Ture

“If hip hop has the power to corrupt young minds, it also has the ability to uplift them.” - KRS-One 

The musician is a natural master of vibration and emotion. Many musicians have been able to make us dance. Many have been able to draw on relatability because nobody is the only person like them in the world. Perhaps some have even made us cry or provided soundtracks for intimate moments. Only few musicians have taken on the task of socially and historically educating their listeners through their music. 

Even fewer have been able to combine the mastery of teaching with mastery of rhythm. Those who do this become legends like; Nate King Cole, B.B. King, Nina Simone, Bob Marley, Chaka Khan and Fela Kuti’ and their influence lives throughout generations. In 1995 Krs-One released a self-titled album that came in the sunset of his reign. His career would mirror the sepia filter of the album cover. 

This album had dominant auras of militancy and rebellion that Krs-One fans had not heard since Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded. Krs-One was able to both appease his day one fans and gain the younger generation of Hip Hoppers who were listening to artists such as: Nas, Redman,Das Efx, Tupac, and A Tribe Called Quest. The message and timing of this album may have been divine. Let us look at the historical events of the year(s) Krs-One was creating this album in. In 1994, the United States congress had successfully completed the first step of becoming fascist by Voting to Censure Dr. Khalid Muhammad, National Advisor of the Nation of Islam. Bill Clinton and Joe Biden led Democrats to pass the The Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act and effectively fueled the prison industrial complex. South Africa held it first election since intergrating with the apartheid government and Invisble Man author Ralph Ellison had passed. Hip Hop was the soul vehicle of expression to protest the genocide that had been going on and KRS One was one of its leaders. The youth looked toward this leader to deliver an album reflective of their mindstate and he delivered. 

Imperative of a classic work of musical art, this album is composed of multiple great songs, but in my opinion the cornerstone song of the album is undeniably “Ah Yeah”. In this song he masterfully uses three 16 bar verses to empower and mobilize his listener much in the same way Dr. Khalid Muhammad did. This track starts with the establishment of an a capella warcry. He writes in response to western power’s having done such an incredible job destroying the rebel instinct that Afrikan people possess by publicly shaming our leaders and traditions. These lyrics are him trying to raise the psyche of a fallen warrior class and put revolt back in its holy place as opposed to the negative connotation that has been applied by the white power structure.  He essentially made a chant-like hook with an underlying message of “This is your enemy, This is how to handle him, and THIS is okay”. The aim focuses on  redirecting the accumulated anger of a traduced peoples that is often mistargeted toward self so that we may be collectively progresssive. 

He bellows:

“Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you see a devil down

Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you take the devil's crown

Ah yeah, stay alive all things will change around

Ah yeah, what? Ah yeah!”

Then comes the establishment of an eerie bass line. This song structure is familiar to fans of his earlier work. It was what they were longing for. For a few albums he took the perspective of being in the classroom or office as opposed to in the battlefield with his men. He had returned to fight with us like Haile Selassie. Immediately he establishes a dual level of respect. One with his men and one with his deterrent.  

“So here I go kickin' science in ninety-five

I be illin', parental discretion is advised still

Don't call me nigga, this MC goes for his

Call me God, cause that's what the black man is

Roamin' through the forest as the hardest lyrical artist

Black women you are not a bitch you're a Goddess

Let it be known, you can lean on KRS-One

Like a wall cause I'm hard, I represent God”

In the first 2 bars of the preceding excerption he lets us know he intends to drop some knowledge, but it will not be filtered for political correctness or comfortability. The following 2 bars he establishes both a tone of encounterment and identity. Then he goes on to explain from which direction he came much like Saint Maurice's appearance upon the plagued people of Europe to let them know he has navigated and he is no spook. He goes on to talk to his listener and the most important of them, the women.

In 1994, fresh off a press tour on which she gained popularity from criticizing Bill Clinton, Sister Souljah published her first book that was heralded by black scholars and youth alike entitled No Disrespect. Her Influence was cemented in the minds of black youth and played a huge role in raising generational consciousness by dealing with topics like “how the black woman is viewed by black men” and “the black woman’s role in repairing the black family structure”. She had solely been awarded leadership duties by a disregarded demographic in a scapegoated culture and was handling it with the grace of Misty Copeland.  Her and the women she raised to consciousness needed the camaraderie of Krs One. He goes on to sell to himself:

 “Wack MC's have one style: gun buck

But when you say, "Let's buck for revolution"

They shut the fuck up, can't get with it

Down to start a riot in a minute

You'll hear so many Bowe-Bowe-Bowe, you think I'm Riddick

While other MC's are talkin' bout up with hope down with dope

I'll have a devil in my infrared scope,”

In the first five bars he addresses the enemies of the oppressed people within the oppressed people. These “Wack MC’s” are the Uncle Toms’ and Judas of the rebellious, afro-centric movement that is Hip-Hop. He says they lack discipline and do not have the self awareness to rescue themselves. In comparison with himself who uses that energy toward an ultimate goal, Independence through revolution. In the succeeding excerption KRS briefly displays the cognitive processing and coping mechanism of a warrior:

“WOY

That's for calling my father a boy and, klak, klak, klak

That's for putting scars on my mother's back, BO

That's for calling my sister a ho, and for you

Buck, buck, buck  cause I don't give a motherfuck

Remember the whip, remember the chant

Remember the rope and

You black people still thinkin' about voting?

Every President we ever had lied!

You know, I'm kinda glad Nixon died.”

Throughout the preceding excerption KRS skillfully uses onomatopoeias to create a setting for his listener. There is a battle going on. Shells casings are falling to the ground and bullets are flying from high caliber weapons. He is in the thick of it and then an enemy approaches him. He musters the courage to engage with his assailant by remembering the suffrage the morals of his enemies’ elected nation-state has caused his ancestors. Then he rejoices in the death of one of their leaders, Richard Nixon.

In the second verse Krs-One addresses an age-old topic of discussion for spiritual people that was brought forth to the Afrikans of today by Noble Drew Ali, “The Prophetic Soul”. This belief dates back to ancient Buddhism in the caves of Asia taught to us by Dr. Ivan Van Sertima in his book “African Presence in Early Asia”. This belief entails that all the prophets of the world including but not limted to; Adam, Jesus, Buddha, Muhammad, and himself were the same soul being reborn until its mission is completed.” Krs-One puts himself and a couple others in this divine line of being. 

“This is not the first time I came to the planet

 concern every time I come, only a few could understand it

I came as Isis, my words they tried to ban it

I came as Moses, they couldn't follow my Commandments

I came as Solomon, to a people that was lost

I came as Jesus, but they nailed me to a cross

I came as Harriet Tubman, I put the truth to Sojourner

Other times, I had to come as Nat Turner

They tried to burn me, lynch me and starve me

So I had to come back as Marcus Garvey, Bob Marley

They tried to harm me, I used to be Malcolm X

Now I'm on the planet as the one called KRS

Kickin' the metaphysical, spiritual, tryin' to like

Get with you, showin' you, you are invincible

The Black Panther is the black answer for real

In my spiritual form, I turn into Bobby Seale

On the wheels of steel, my spirit flies away

And enters into Kwame Ture”

In the beginning of the third verse he briefly continues the theme of possessing The Prophetic Soul but now, he does not speak from a perspective of being the people who had the soul. He speaks from the perspective of the soul. This soul is traveling and looking for a host. In the first two bars he speaks of how he was able to travel without detection from the government’s surveillance. Then, he goes on to finally choose a host that is relevant to the demographic of people it intends to reach. This host is stylish and his image is relatable, so the people will be receptive of his message through familiarity. 

“In the streets there is no EQ, no di-do-di-do-di-do

So I grab the air and speak through the code

The devil cannot see through as I unload

Into another cerebellum

Then I can tell em, because my vibes go through denim

And leather whatever, however, I'm still rockin”

After the prophetic soul latches on to the host, KRS-One, it manifests purpose with grassroot organization and motivational speaking. Being KRS-One founded the Stop the Violence Movement in 1988 and was solely responsible for mobilizing many of the most influential Hip Hoppers against Gang Violence and Culture he had plenty of knowledge to give on the topic.

“We used to pick cotton, now we pick up cotton when we shoppin'

Have you forgotten why we buildin' in a cypher

Yo hear me kid, government is building in a pyramid

The son of God is brighter than the son of man

The spirit is, check your dollar bill G, here it is

We got no time for fancy mathematics

Your mental frequency frequently pickin' up static

Makin' you a naked body, addict and it's democratic

They press auto, and you kill it with an automatic”

Too often credit for the creation and establishment of a culture or society is given to one person as opposed to being evenly distributed amongst the support structure. How many times have you been taught the legacy of all the men that signed the declaration of independence? It is likely that you’ve only been taught about Thomos Jefferson. Just like there would be no Fidel Castro without the parallel influences of Che Guevara and Camilo Ceinfuegos there would be no Hip-Hop without KRS ONE. Perhaps without his tenacity, passion, and will it would have been infiltrated and exploited before it reached its full maturity. If that would have happened America would not have its current number one export. In his prime most consumers who listened to his message and gazed upon his image said “OH NO!”  from fear of what they could not understand. Today, we look at his legacy of art and effort and cant help ,but smile and yell “AH YEAH!”.

“If hip hop has the power to corrupt young minds, it also has the ability to uplift them.” - KRS-One 

The musician is a natural master of vibration and emotion. Many musicians have been able to make us dance. Many have been able to draw on relatability because nobody is the only person like them in the world. Perhaps some have even made us cry or provided soundtracks for intimate moments. Only few musicians have taken on the task of socially and historically educating their listeners through their music. 

Even fewer have been able to combine the mastery of teaching with mastery of rhythm. Those who do this become legends like; Nate King Cole, B.B. King, Nina Simone, Bob Marley, Chaka Khan and Fela Kuti’ and their influence lives throughout generations. In 1995 Krs-One released a self-titled album that came in the sunset of his reign. His career would mirror the sepia filter of the album cover. 

This album had dominant auras of militancy and rebellion that Krs-One fans had not heard since Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded. Krs-One was able to both appease his day one fans and gain the younger generation of Hip Hoppers who were listening to artists such as: Nas, Redman,Das Efx, Tupac, and A Tribe Called Quest. The message and timing of this album may have been divine. Let us look at the historical events of the year(s) Krs-One was creating this album in. In 1994, the United States congress had successfully completed the first step of becoming fascist by Voting to Censure Dr. Khalid Muhammad, National Advisor of the Nation of Islam. Bill Clinton and Joe Biden led Democrats to pass the The Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act and effectively fueled the prison industrial complex. South Africa held it first election since intergrating with the apartheid government and Invisble Man author Ralph Ellison had passed. Hip Hop was the soul vehicle of expression to protest the genocide that had been going on and KRS One was one of its leaders. The youth looked toward this leader to deliver an album reflective of their mindstate and he delivered. 

Imperative of a classic work of musical art, this album is composed of multiple great songs, but in my opinion the cornerstone song of the album is undeniably “Ah Yeah”. In this song he masterfully uses three 16 bar verses to empower and mobilize his listener much in the same way Dr. Khalid Muhammad did. This track starts with the establishment of an a capella warcry. He writes in response to western power’s having done such an incredible job destroying the rebel instinct that Afrikan people possess by publicly shaming our leaders and traditions. These lyrics are him trying to raise the psyche of a fallen warrior class and put revolt back in its holy place as opposed to the negative connotation that has been applied by the white power structure.  He essentially made a chant-like hook with an underlying message of “This is your enemy, This is how to handle him, and THIS is okay”. The aim focuses on  redirecting the accumulated anger of a traduced peoples that is often mistargeted toward self so that we may be collectively progresssive. 

He bellows:

“Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you see a devil down

Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you take the devil's crown

Ah yeah, stay alive all things will change around

Ah yeah, what? Ah yeah!”

Then comes the establishment of an eerie bass line. This song structure is familiar to fans of his earlier work. It was what they were longing for. For a few albums he took the perspective of being in the classroom or office as opposed to in the battlefield with his men. He had returned to fight with us like Haile Selassie. Immediately he establishes a dual level of respect. One with his men and one with his deterrent.  

“So here I go kickin' science in ninety-five

I be illin', parental discretion is advised still

Don't call me nigga, this MC goes for his

Call me God, cause that's what the black man is

Roamin' through the forest as the hardest lyrical artist

Black women you are not a bitch you're a Goddess

Let it be known, you can lean on KRS-One

Like a wall cause I'm hard, I represent God”

In the first 2 bars of the preceding excerption he lets us know he intends to drop some knowledge, but it will not be filtered for political correctness or comfortability. The following 2 bars he establishes both a tone of encounterment and identity. Then he goes on to explain from which direction he came much like Saint Maurice's appearance upon the plagued people of Europe to let them know he has navigated and he is no spook. He goes on to talk to his listener and the most important of them, the women.

In 1994, fresh off a press tour on which she gained popularity from criticizing Bill Clinton, Sister Souljah published her first book that was heralded by black scholars and youth alike entitled No Disrespect. Her Influence was cemented in the minds of black youth and played a huge role in raising generational consciousness by dealing with topics like “how the black woman is viewed by black men” and “the black woman’s role in repairing the black family structure”. She had solely been awarded leadership duties by a disregarded demographic in a scapegoated culture and was handling it with the grace of Misty Copeland.  Her and the women she raised to consciousness needed the camaraderie of Krs One. He goes on to sell to himself:

 “Wack MC's have one style: gun buck

But when you say, "Let's buck for revolution"

They shut the fuck up, can't get with it

Down to start a riot in a minute

You'll hear so many Bowe-Bowe-Bowe, you think I'm Riddick

While other MC's are talkin' bout up with hope down with dope

I'll have a devil in my infrared scope,”

In the first five bars he addresses the enemies of the oppressed people within the oppressed people. These “Wack MC’s” are the Uncle Toms’ and Judas of the rebellious, afro-centric movement that is Hip-Hop. He says they lack discipline and do not have the self awareness to rescue themselves. In comparison with himself who uses that energy toward an ultimate goal, Independence through revolution. In the succeeding excerption KRS briefly displays the cognitive processing and coping mechanism of a warrior:

“WOY

That's for calling my father a boy and, klak, klak, klak

That's for putting scars on my mother's back, BO

That's for calling my sister a ho, and for you

Buck, buck, buck  cause I don't give a motherfuck

Remember the whip, remember the chant

Remember the rope and

You black people still thinkin' about voting?

Every President we ever had lied!

You know, I'm kinda glad Nixon died.”

Throughout the preceding excerption KRS skillfully uses onomatopoeias to create a setting for his listener. There is a battle going on. Shells casings are falling to the ground and bullets are flying from high caliber weapons. He is in the thick of it and then an enemy approaches him. He musters the courage to engage with his assailant by remembering the suffrage the morals of his enemies’ elected nation-state has caused his ancestors. Then he rejoices in the death of one of their leaders, Richard Nixon.

In the second verse Krs-One addresses an age-old topic of discussion for spiritual people that was brought forth to the Afrikans of today by Noble Drew Ali, “The Prophetic Soul”. This belief dates back to ancient Buddhism in the caves of Asia taught to us by Dr. Ivan Van Sertima in his book “African Presence in Early Asia”. This belief entails that all the prophets of the world including but not limted to; Adam, Jesus, Buddha, Muhammad, and himself were the same soul being reborn until its mission is completed.” Krs-One puts himself and a couple others in this divine line of being. 

“This is not the first time I came to the planet

 concern every time I come, only a few could understand it

I came as Isis, my words they tried to ban it

I came as Moses, they couldn't follow my Commandments

I came as Solomon, to a people that was lost

I came as Jesus, but they nailed me to a cross

I came as Harriet Tubman, I put the truth to Sojourner

Other times, I had to come as Nat Turner

They tried to burn me, lynch me and starve me

So I had to come back as Marcus Garvey, Bob Marley

They tried to harm me, I used to be Malcolm X

Now I'm on the planet as the one called KRS

Kickin' the metaphysical, spiritual, tryin' to like

Get with you, showin' you, you are invincible

The Black Panther is the black answer for real

In my spiritual form, I turn into Bobby Seale

On the wheels of steel, my spirit flies away

And enters into Kwame Ture”

In the beginning of the third verse he briefly continues the theme of possessing The Prophetic Soul but now, he does not speak from a perspective of being the people who had the soul. He speaks from the perspective of the soul. This soul is traveling and looking for a host. In the first two bars he speaks of how he was able to travel without detection from the government’s surveillance. Then, he goes on to finally choose a host that is relevant to the demographic of people it intends to reach. This host is stylish and his image is relatable, so the people will be receptive of his message through familiarity. 

“In the streets there is no EQ, no di-do-di-do-di-do

So I grab the air and speak through the code

The devil cannot see through as I unload

Into another cerebellum

Then I can tell em, because my vibes go through denim

And leather whatever, however, I'm still rockin”

After the prophetic soul latches on to the host, KRS-One, it manifests purpose with grassroot organization and motivational speaking. Being KRS-One founded the Stop the Violence Movement in 1988 and was solely responsible for mobilizing many of the most influential Hip Hoppers against Gang Violence and Culture he had plenty of knowledge to give on the topic.

“We used to pick cotton, now we pick up cotton when we shoppin'

Have you forgotten why we buildin' in a cypher

Yo hear me kid, government is building in a pyramid

The son of God is brighter than the son of man

The spirit is, check your dollar bill G, here it is

We got no time for fancy mathematics

Your mental frequency frequently pickin' up static

Makin' you a naked body, addict and it's democratic

They press auto, and you kill it with an automatic”

Too often credit for the creation and establishment of a culture or society is given to one person as opposed to being evenly distributed amongst the support structure. How many times have you been taught the legacy of all the men that signed the declaration of independence? It is likely that you’ve only been taught about Thomos Jefferson. Just like there would be no Fidel Castro without the parallel influences of Che Guevara and Camilo Ceinfuegos there would be no Hip-Hop without KRS ONE. Perhaps without his tenacity, passion, and will it would have been infiltrated and exploited before it reached its full maturity. If that would have happened America would not have its current number one export. In his prime most consumers who listened to his message and gazed upon his image said “OH NO!”  from fear of what they could not understand. Today, we look at his legacy of art and effort and cant help ,but smile and yell “AH YEAH!”.

#krs one #krs1 #hip hop #90shiphop #boombap #african art #African American Art #african history

[captainamericasbeard]

Rescue 8/10

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Enhanced!Omega!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: lots of talk about anxiety

Summary: The Avengers are sent in to rescue a group of omegas from the hands of Hydra. There Bucky finds you, an enhanced omega. Can you ever be fully rescued from what Hydra has done to you?

A/N: I’M REALLY REALLY SORRY, OK.  IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED PLEASE SEND AN ASK.

Rescue 7 l Masterlist

You meet Bucky on the jet pad to send him off. He comes strutting out in his tack gear, guns and knives strapped everywhere, his arm gleaming in the sunshine and he takes your breath away. This is your Alpha, strong and mighty and off to save the world. The sight makes you lips curve up and your heart rate pick up. Bucky strides over to you and you wrap your arms tightly around him and bury your face in his neck, scenting him.

“Come back to me, ya hear?” You whisper into his ear, kissing his neck lightly. He grips your hips tightly.

“Promise,” he says, pulling back to look deep in your eyes and you know he means it. You give him a nod and a final soft kiss on the lips before you pry yourself off of him. He walks past you and moves into the jet, giving you a final wink and a smirk. A shiver rolls through you despite the sunlight and you wrap your arms around your body as you watch the jet disappear on the horizon. You stand there a few moments longer with your face turned towards the sun, quietly wishing Bucky back to you and then you turn back into the compound.

You wander through the mostly empty halls trying to decide what to do with your free day. Steve, Sam, Nat, and Bucky are on the mission. Wanda is off visiting her brother for the week. You're certain Tony is tucked away in his lab and you’ve no idea where Thor might be. You decide to go in search of the latter, Thor being the only alpha, besides Bucky, you feel truly comfortable with. He’s been training you for four months now, even delaying his return to Asgard to help you control and focus your powers. You’ve developed an easy friendship with the alpha and you know he’ll be excited to hear you’re going to train to go on missions.

You head for the gym first wondering if Thor is working out but you only find lonely equipment and the faint smell of alphas. You check his room and the kitchen to find those empty too. You’re about to give up and resign yourself to the list of movies Tony says you have to catch up on when you hear music coming from the library. You bound up the stairs and peak through the partly open door to see Thor picking through the record collection next to the record player. You watch as he pulls the current record off of the player and back into its sleeve and place a new one on the turntable. You gently knock on the door and push it open and the Asgardian looks up at you with his famous mega watt smile.

“Y/N! Did you farewell Bucky on his mission?” The god asks.

“I did. He should be back tonight, so that’s good.” A shiver runs through you again and you wrap your arms around yourself once more. “What are you doing up here?” You ask.

“I'm looking for a specific song I heard our dear Captain listening to the other day. Something about Black Magic, and a lover beyond compare.” Thor has a misty look in his eyes and he stares down at the stack of records. A deep memory has stirred inside him and you feel as though you are intruding on something private. He snaps out of his reverie and offers you a tender smile by way of apology.

“I think it’s Glen Miller. My dad used to listen to this kind of music.” Your heart stutters as you mention your dad and a memory comes clawing its way to the surface. It’s your turn to get lost in your mind and you shake your head to snap yourself out of it. You move over to the crate full of records and thumb through them until you come across a familiar picture. You pull the record out and searching the song titles until you find the right one. You place it on the record player and get the needle into the correct groove and Glen begins to croon out his tune.

That old black magic has me in its spell

That old black magic that you weave so well…

“A dance, my lady?” Thor asks, extending his hand to you. You fidget with the hem of your shirt, nervous of what Bucky would say. As though he can read your mind Thor says, “I promise I’m a perfect gentleman.” You smile and consent, gingerly placing your hand in his large, warm one.

It feels strange, you realize, to touch another person like this. Thor has touched you, but only in the training room. Wanda has hugged you and grabbed your hand excitedly, but that was friendship. This was a different kind of touch, kind and soft and close. Before you can get too nervous you realize that Thor has no designs on a slow, intimate dance. Despite the romantic tempo of the music he starts spinning you around the room, dipping you wildly, and holding you arms length away so you can twist your hips in unison. You’re both too busy laughing to notice the music has stopped and you fall down on a nearby couch, out of breath and grinning from ear to ear. Thor’s booming laugh echos through the room as he moves the needle off of the record before the next song can start.

“Well done, well done. You’re very light on your feet!” Thor says with a twinkle in his eye.

“I don’t know how it's possible that I'm any good, I’ve never actually danced before,” you say lightly, not wanting to shift the mood.

“Perhaps it’s natural talent. You should explore it, drag Barnes to some dancing lessons. You never know, you might have fun.” Thor encourages.

“Speaking of natural talent,” you wink, “wanna go train!?” You ask excitedly. You’re eager to perfect your skills and get Thor’s sign off on missions.  

As the two of you make your way to The Cave, you tell Thor about your conversation with Bucky. Thor is supportive of your desire to go on missions though he says he understands Bucky’s misgivings.

“If I had a lovely omega such as yourself, I wouldn’t want her going on missions either. It’s our natural instinct to protect. Bucky’s only doing what his physiology tells him to, protecting his omega. You must forgive him for it.” Thor offers by way of explanation.

“I do, it’s just hard. I’ve been controlled my whole life. I don’t want the person I care for the most to control me as well. I want to do what I know in my heart is right,” you say.

“Give him time. And train hard. Let him see how capable you are and he’ll feel more comfortable.” Thor says patting you on the shoulder. You’ve arrived at The Cave and the two of you head inside to train.

Thor begins putting you through you your drills. After months of training aiming and controlling how intense your power is is no trouble. Thor wants to move on to seeing how much power you can absorb so you spend an hour getting shocked by the God of Thunder. You’re having fun so you can’t understand why there’s a growing sense of unease in the pit of your stomach. Your anxiety is rising but you can’t see any reason why. After an hour and a half you tell Thor you want to call it quits.

“Everything alright, my lady?” Thor questions.

“Yeah, I’m ok. I just feel like something is off. I might go watch tv and see if I can calm down,” you explain.

“Would you care for some company,” Thor offers.

“No, I think I’d rather be by myself,” you say. You give Thor a nod and wander off in the direction of the common room.

You’re feeling depleted from your training session so you grab some of your favorite snacks and cuddle up on the couch under the coziest blanket you can find. You flip through Netflix searching for something that could grab your interest but after 15 minutes of browsing you come up with nothing, and you resort to rewatching a series you’ve seen a million times. You binge watch three episodes but it's not distracting you from the growing feeling of anxiety building in your body so you decide to try to sleep it off.

You go to your bedroom where the mingled scent of you and Bucky surrounds you and automatically starts to take the edge off your anxiety. All you want is for Bucky to be home so he can wrap you in his arms and take away your fears. You fall into your nest and snuggle up to  Bucky’s pillow, and drift off into a fitful sleep. You dream but you can’t remember it upon waking. Snippets of pain and fear and Bucky is there. After a few hours you give up on a nap. You’re about to try a book when F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s lilting accent comes over the PA in your room.

“Y/N, I thought you might like to know that the jet is five minutes out,” the AI informs you.

“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” you respond, hopping out of your nest. You rush to the landing pad and wait, bouncing on your toes. You know you’ll feel better as soon as Bucky steps off that jet. The jet lands and the ramp opens. Sam, Nat, and Steve pile out but Bucky doesn’t follow. Sam is hurt and he and Nat avoid your gaze as Nat helps him limp up to medical. Steve is approaching you and your head is spinning. Why isn’t Bucky stepping off the jet? Why are you not in his arms already? Steve is in front of you and you can’t meet his eyes for fear of what you’ll find there.

“Just tell me,” you say as you stare at the ground, your eyes filling with tears. You don’t need to hear it to know something has gone terribly wrong. Steve stays silent. You finally bring your eyes up to his face to find his eyes dull and his expression twisted in pain.

“Tell me Steve.” Still he’s silent. He can’t bring himself to speak the words. He can’t stand the thought of how much he’s about to hurt you. Your anger builds at his silence and you scream at him to tell you what happened as you pound your fists against his chest.

“Damnit Steve, talk to me! What happened!?” You shout, the tears falling freely. This not knowing is agony. Steve finally comes to and grabs your wrists to stop your abuse. He drops your hands and breathes deep, bracing himself.

“It was a set up, Y/N. Intel told us it was only 20 agents in a seldom used base. It was over 100 agents. They were waiting for us, for Bucky. They captured him, took off. We couldn’t catch up. I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so so sorry,” you heard Steve’s words but they were an echo in the back of your mind. All you could hear was that Bucky was gone. Your head rang with the words, it spun your mind into a whirl. You felt your knees going weak and your vision darkening. The last thing you remember is Steve’s strong arms reaching out to catch you as you collapse to the ground.

Chapter 9

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[fanfictionaries]

Where the Green Grass Grows - Part 1. A Real Fine Place to Start

@imanuglywombat​ credit for the moodboard/art! 

Summary: After leaving town in 2001, Marianne Grace Barnes swore she’d never step foot in Texas again. She was happy with her life in San Francisco. She had great friends, a great job, and a loving boyfriend. But when her mother insists she come home after six long years away, Marianne comes face to face with someone she vowed to never lay eyes on again. Now the questions arise: Is he so different from the man who broke her heart? Is she so different from the girl she used to be?

And most importantly, is she as happy as she really thinks she is?

A story of love, heartache, and that special feeling of being home.

MASTERLIST

Pairing: AU Cowboy!Steve Rogers x OFC

Warnings: Swearing 

Author’s note: This is my entry for  @arrowsandmixtapes​ ‘s RomCom Writing Challenge! So sorry for the late entry, Covid has been a whirlwind of a time.

Prompt: Sweet Home Alabama (2002)

***

The streets of San Francisco were their normal, misty grey as Marianne Barnes rushed down the sidewalk. Scrubbing at the technicolor specks of paint that covered her arms, she wondered why that day of all days she had decided to introduce the splatter paint portion of her student’s curriculum. The current semester was focused on abstract and modern art. Slowly she’d been introducing them to all of the history and techniques behind the different styles before allowing them to try it out for themselves. While initially it seemed like a fantastic idea, she soon realized that allowing a group of middle schoolers the freedom to literally throw paint was a recipe for disaster. Luckily, she had her art smock to cover the entirety of her clothes, but that had not saved her arms and legs from the ricochet of paint as the over enthusiastic kids hurled globs of color as hard as they could at blank canvases. Continuing to rake her nails against the skin of her arms, she sighed in frustration. She really should have taken a few more minutes to wash up one more time.

It was important that she look nice tonight. Tony, her boyfriend, had invited her to dinner stating he had some “big news”. Marianne assumed that it probably had to do with the big business deal he’d been working on for his company. Tony was a visionary of sorts. Having come from family money, his future was always to be well off. However, he had taken the extra steps to truly make something of himself and slowly over the years of his career he had come to own the single leading company in clean energy technology. She was proud of him – even if his job did take up a large amount of his life. However, without his job she probably wouldn’t have met him. She thought back to the embarrassing moment in which they had met nearly a year ago.

Marianne pulled at the neckline of her dress, the Peter Pan collar currently feeling as though it was going to choke her as she shifted uncomfortably by the food and drink table. As much as she liked being there for her best friend, she really wished Natasha would stop inviting her to these kinds of events. While Nat insisted that she’d stay right by Marianne’s side, she always ended up alone at some point in the night, twiddling her thumbs in a room filled with strangers. Having met in art school, Marianne always found it incredibly interesting how drastically different her and Natasha’s careers were. While Marianne had opted for teaching the youths of America about Monet, Dali, van Gogh, and Matisse, Natasha had settled on the curation of art, a field that suited her much more appropriately. The rubbing of elbows with the hoity toity rich was a perfect fit for Nat’s easy, sophisticated, and, for lack of a better word, sexy personality. With her naturally fire-red hair, knockout curves, and perfect smile, Natasha was the type of woman that when she walked into a room, every person either wanted to be her or to fuck her. There was no in-between. Even for Marianne, who supposed in some ways, she’d like to be a bit more like Natasha.

That’s why she was so surprised to be approached as she clung to her glass of champagne and pretended to stare contemplatively at the same painting of a flat tire for the fifth time that night.

“What do you think?” asked a smooth and timbred voice from beside her.

Marianne chuckled slightly to herself continued to trace the thick brushstrokes of the painting with her eyes. “Well, considering the artist’s theme of stagnation, I think they’ve gone a bit too on the nose with this one. It’s…unimaginative,” she commented, before turning to see the handsome man beside her. If she’d actually been drinking the champagne in her hand, she might have choked on it. Luckily for her, she hadn’t.

The man continued to stare at the painting in front of them, a contemplative expression that brought his thick, dark brows together, before he turned his gaze to her, “So you don’t think it will sell tonight then?”

“Oh no, it will definitely sell. I’ve been to enough of these things to know that it’s not really about taste, so much as it is status. If the artist seems important enough, then so is their art,” smirked Marianne, this time actually taking a sip from her champagne flute to avoid focusing on the intriguing way in which the stranger was staring at her.

“Ah, yes. The snobbish elites’ inability to see past their own social status,” he commented dryly, taking a sip from his own flute.

“Hey, you said it, not me,” Marianne laughed, feeling as though she might have made a connection with a reasonable person just yet.

“And who do I have the pleasure of giving me all the inside critique?”

She extended her free hand out to the man, “Marianne Barnes—art teacher, friend of the curator, and overall critic of the snobbish elite.”

He took her hand in his own, his grasp soft, yet strong as he shook her hand and stared her directly in the eye, “Tony Stark – member of the snobbish elite.”

Marianne blanched at the words, the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment taking over her as she realized her mistake. She was just beginning to open her mouth to apologize when Tony held up a hand.

“No need to apologize—” he inhaled deeply, looking around the room and the people that inhabited it “—Truth be told, I don’t think I can stand a single person in here. You excluded of course, but who knows that may change.”

Marianne wrestled with the smile that fought to match Tony’s own wry grin. He was too charming for his own good. Taking a second to look over his expensive suit, Italian leather shoes, and $200 haircut, she reckoned he was much too handsome and successful for her own good. Still, she figured there was no harm in a little conversation.

“Say, I like your accent. Where’s that from? Georgia? Alabama?” asked Tony, stepping in to close the distance between them and making the interaction feel so much more intimate than it should.

Marianne gasped in mock offense, “Excuse you sir, but I am Texas born through and through.”

“My apologies ma’am,” Tony said, holding a hand to his heart in sincerity. “It’s never my intention to offend beautiful women. But for some reason, it just, well, happens.”

That comment made Marianne pause, “You think I’m beautiful?”

He took a moment to assess her, raking his eyes over her from head to toe. Not in a predatory way, but more like he was assessing another painting on the wall. Then he answered, voice heavy in sincerity, “Most beautiful piece of art I’ve seen tonight.”

The sharp tone of Marianne’s ringtone brought her out of her musing and back to the present as she waited at a crosswalk for the light to change. Digging into the deep contents of her purse, she cursed under her breath, pushing aside pens, pencils, scrunchies, lotions, and general clutter before her fingers closed around the buzzing device.

“Hello?”

“I just really don’t understand why Serena and Nate just don’t get together! I mean, he basically broke up with Blair for her, the least she could do is date him,” groaned Natasha from the other end, before Marianne heard the distinct crunch of popcorn being chewed.

“Hey! Spoilers, I haven’t watched last night’s episode yet! Besides, I really don’t have time to talk about Gossip Girl right now,” she huffed, glancing at the time on her watch and realizing she was even later than she thought.

“Well hurry up and watch it! I want to talk about what Chuck did. You’ll never believe it—”

“Seriously Nat, no spoilers!” Marianne exclaimed, now picking up her speed as she crossed the street, trying not to catch the heel of her stilettos on the cracks in the pavement. “And I meant it, I’m running late for my dinner with Tony. He’s taking me to my favorite restaurant to celebrate the contract with Pym Technologies.”

“Wow. I never would have expected Tony to slum it all the way to the Mission District,” Natasha snorted.

“What? No, I’m in SoMa right now. We’re going to Omakase,” Marianne said, jumping back when a bicyclist zoomed past her, nearly knocking her into a dirty puddle.

“Oh…”

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just that I have a distinct memory of you saying you’d rather lick an L.A. sidewalk than eat raw fish, but I have seen you scarf down more burritos from Taqueria Cancun than I can count.”

Marianne bristled at the comment; she always did this. “My tastes are allowed to change Nat,” she bit back, seeing the sign for the sushi restaurant her and Tony frequented in sight.

Natasha was quiet for a moment on the other end of the line before she responded, “Yea, yea, you’re right. I’m sorry. Well, have fun at dinner and tell Tony I say congratulation.”

Sighing, Marianne immediately felt guilty for the harsh way in which she spoke, “Thanks Nat, I’ll tell him. And don’t worry, I’ve got the episode queued up first on Tony’s TiVo. I’ll watch it tonight and then I’ll call you tomorrow and we can gab all about why Serena needs to pull her head out.”

The comment earned Marianne a small laugh from Natasha, alleviating some of her guilt, “I’m holding you to that. Talk to you later hun, love you.”

“Love you too.”

Marianne closed her phone just as she was approaching the front doors to Omakase. Throwing her phone back into her purse she pushed the glass door open, knowing that Tony was probably already waiting for her at their favorite table. The first thing she noticed upon entering the restaurant was the distinct lack of the normal bustling sounds of other people, the second thing was the presence of orchestral music, and the third were roses. Hundreds and hundreds of red roses. Stacked on every available surface, the flowers littered the restaurant in large arrangements placed in beautiful crystal vases.

Silently, her heeled feet padded across the rose petal covered floor as she tentatively stepped further into the building, wondering for a just a second if she was in the right place. However, as she rounded the corner to see Tony dressed impeccably, string quartet situation behind him as he stood next to the only table in the dining room, she knew this was exactly where she was supposed to be.

“Tony…” she approached him cautiously, unable to stop from looking around the room and all its grandeur.

“There she is. For a second, I thought you found something better to do,” joked Tony, closing the distance between them and kissing her lightly on the lips.

“Sorry, I got out of class a bit late and then Nat called. What’s going on?” Marianne asked, still unsure what the big romantic gesture was for. 

“What? A man can’t treat his girlfriend to a romantic night?”

“Well yes, but I thought we were celebrating your deal.”

“Well, I mean that’s part of it, but we’ll get to that later. Here, why don’t you set your things down? I have something I want to ask you.” Tony slipped Marianne’s purse from her shoulder and placed it gently down onto her chair before turning to her and taking both of her hands in his. “So, a little precursor, I closed the deal with Pym Technologies.”

“Oh my god, Tony that’s amazing! I knew you were going to get it,” Marianne exclaimed, smiling widely at her boyfriend. She moved in to give him a congratulatory hug, but Tony stopped her, holding her away from him at arm’s length.

“Oh, hold on, let’s not celebrate too soon. At least let me finish my little speech and then we can jump up and down like teenage girls,” responded Tony. His tone, while its usual joking manner, held a tense and clipped edge to it that Marianne didn’t hear often. Nervously she shifted her weight, wondering what he could possibly have to ask her. Then slowly things started to click into place. Secluded restaurant. Red roses. String quartet. Tony’s favorite red wine on the table. Big important question. Oh.

“Well, once this deal goes through, I’m going to be spending a lot of time traveling internationally. Things are going to pick up at Stark Industries and I realized that life is about to get a lot more hectic and messier. Then of course, this brought on a whirlwind of existential questions about life and its meaning and purpose and what I really want out of it and…and I’m rambling aren’t I?”

“Yea, just a bit,” Marianne answered with a small smile.

“I had a point—”

“Did you?”

“I did—” Tony released his hold on her hands to dig into the pocket of his suit pants “—and I think it sounded a bit like this.” Marianne gasped lightly as Tony dropped to one knee. “Basically, to make a long, drawn-out story short, I realized that no matter how messy and crazy the future scenarios of my life, one thing remained a constant. You. You by my side as my wife. So…” Producing a small, black box from within his hands, he opened it slowly to reveal a large, sparkling engagement ring. “Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Marianne stood speechless for a moment, consumed by the surprise turn of events. For a second the musing thought that she would have definitely forgone splatter paint today if she had known she was getting proposed to, flashed through her mind before she nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, yes I will marry you.”

That’s how one month later Marianne found herself entering Natasha’s apartment, arms completely stuffed with nothing but wedding magazines, samples, and binders. Dropping her things into a large pile on the carpet of Natasha’s living room floor, Marianne breathed in deep before turning her attention to an open portfolio on the coffee table. The bright splashes of reds and blues of oversized poppies amidst a large, open sky caught her attention, drawing her in.

“Hey Nat, are you looking to take in a new collection at the gallery?” she called towards the kitchen, unable to pull her eyes away from the beautiful and almost impressionistic take on the flowers.

“Yea, one of my boss’s associates is crazy about these giant oil paintings of poppies. He wants us to consider doing a whole show of them. We’re equally as enthusiastic, but I guess the artist is hesitant about selling their work,” answered Natasha from across the apartment.

“Don’t most artists want to sell their art?”

“You’d think, but judging from the California poppies, they’re probably some west coast artist that doesn’t want to ‘sell out’ and ruin the integrity of their work.” Marianne could almost hear Natasha rolling her eyes through the walls.

Staring even harder at the small collection of paintings as she flipped through the portfolio, Marianne asked, “Are you sure they’re California poppies?”

Just as she asked the question, Natasha came around the corner, two large glasses of prosecco in hand. “Of course. We’re in California. They’re poppies. California poppies,” Natasha shrugged, placing the glasses on the coffee table.

“Yea, I guess you’re right,” Marianne said, sharply closing the portfolio and shaking off the strange sense of melancholy that the paintings evoked.  

“Jesus, when you said you wanted to come over and talk about wedding stuff while we watched Gossip Girl, I thought you meant something like looking at a couple of magazines, not planning the whole thing in one night!” Natasha said, eyes growing wide as she took in the sheer amount of materials Marianne had arrived with.

“Yea, well that’s pretty much all the time I actually have to plan this thing. Tony wants to get married soon so that we can go on our honeymoon before he has to start traveling for work. Once things pick up, we’re not really sure when he’ll get another free moment,” sighed Marianne, sitting down on the floor and beginning to organize her mess.

“I’m surprised he’s letting you plan this and it’s not him making all the decisions,” remarked Natasha, sitting down across from her, and picking up a magazine.

“What do you mean?” asked Marianne, looking up quizzically at her best friend.

“Well…” began Natasha, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “I just mean that Tony tends to have a habit of making decisions for you.”

“What? No, he doesn’t,” Marianne scoffed.

“Uhuh…okay. Well then, who decided shortly after meeting you that your car, your first car, your baby, wasn’t good enough and that you needed a new one?” Natasha asked challengingly.

“It was old Natasha. People get new cars every day. Tony was just kind enough to buy me a new one,” Marianne reasoned with her, picking up her glass of prosecco from the coffee table.

“Okay, what about your job? You were working at that cute little public, elementary school that you always said you loved so much. Next thing I know, you’ve got this new job at a private middle school.”

“Tony had some connections and there’s nothing wrong with moving up in your career. I’m pretty sure that’s the whole point of a career, Nat.”

“Your apartment then? A week after he saw your apartment for the first time, he insisted that you move in with him.”

“That apartment was a rat-infested shit-hole and you know it. Things were going well, and he had the space. I took a leap of faith and moved in with him. I think it went alright considering the fact that I’m marrying the man. Just- what are you getting at Nat?”

“I guess I’m just worried that these major life decisions aren’t what you want, but instead what Tony wants. I mean, you’ve been together barely a year and already you’re more like him than you are you. You dress posher, you act posher, your accent’s fading…I want you to be happy Marianne, but I don’t want you to lose yourself along the way,” Natasha ended her small rant by taking a large gulp of her drink.

Marianne placed a hand on her friends arm reassuringly, “Hey. It’s alright. I’m happy, I promise. And it’s still me! I’m still the same Marianne Barnes you met in art school – just a little fancier is all.” She laid her southern accent on thick near the end of her sentence, lifting up her left hand to waggle the large engagement ring in her friend’s face. Natasha laughed, knocking her hand out of the way, and rolling her eyes at Marianne’s blatant bragging.

“Shut up, now let’s work on your guest list and invitations first while we let the drama of Manhattan’s Upper East Side consume us,” said Natasha, exchanging the magazine for a binder as she turned her TV on with the press of a button.

Taglist: 

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​

@caffiend-queen​

@grincheveryday​

#RomComWC #RCWC #steve x ofc #au!steve #cowboy!steve #steve rogers #sweet home alabama #romantic comedy #fanfiction #fanfic #tony stark x ofc #enemies to lovers

[jq37]

so...... thoughts on the first ep?

**spoilers for start spreading the news**

What is UP you guys? The new season of Dimension 20 is out and your girl is back (implies I left, which is false) with only the hottest of takes.

Usually I vomit up my opinions with little rhyme or reason and, don't worry, I'm not changing that format any time soon. But, because of the structure of the episode, I think it'll be easier to use headings and go through each character/element of this. So let's do this y'all!

The Setting

I think the best thing you can do as a writer or a creative person in general is the make something that only you could make, you know? Like, make the thing that only someone with your specific life experiences and weird brain could have come up with. And I really think that this is that for Brennan. I already talked about this in other posts, but the version of NYC that Brennan created for this game is that to me. Like, magical NY has been done, but the specific details? Who else could have written, "The annual SantaCon is actually Santa dumping all of his defective clones into NYC where the magic barrier that keeps normals from seeing magic will disguise them and the protectors of the city will be able to deal with them"? That's so specific and so wild and so New York and so Brennan.

And I haven't lived in NY for so long but I've had one winter here and the way he describes what it's like to walk down the street during winter in the city is so real. Like smelling garbage then laundry detergent then sugared nuts from those corner stands and you're freezing and then baking in the subway in your coat. That was so so real. (I will be saying this phrase a lot so get used to it now)

And I like that he didn't make the obvious choices, you know? Like we've had three, like, magical figureheads across D20 and those are usually classic old, white, possibly British roles, you know? Like a Gandalf or a Dumbledore. But he had Aguefort in FH and now Esther and Alejandro in TUS. I just think it's cool that we're getting some different archetypes to fill these roles instead of the same dude c.p'd in again, you know?

Also, the fantasy NYC map is so dope. I wanna go back and try to read everything on it when I have the chance. 

Pete

Ally is a DRUG DEALER. I thought Pete was gonna be a stripper but he's a DRUG DEALER. Honestly, I could have figured this out sooner if I'd just checked Urban Dictionary like I did just now and found out that "plug" means "someone who is a resource for obtaining something valuable that would otherwise be difficult to obtain" or, more simply, "drug dealer". But I'm glad I didn't because it was much more fun to find out in real time.

Ally makes some character choices sometimes that are too specific to not be rooted in life experience and that whole microwave cheese monologue was one of them.

Pete's official diagnosis is that he has "a lot going on."

Ally almost won MVP line of the episode with, "Shot my tits off." Murph losing it in the background killed me almost more than the actual line.

I really, really want Pete's doctor to be a recurring character because he is wild in how wild he isn't. He has so much wild stuff happening around him and he is in a wild line of work but he seems like a relatively stable guy. I love him. Also, the completely wrong cadence he used to say, "lgbt ally" was gold.

Is Ally ever gonna have a character with a good relationship with their parents? One time? Ever?

I literally don't even know how to begin to address the wild magic trip Pete went on. Like, I don't think Ally knew what they were doing when they decided to be a wild magic sorcerer. I don't think they knew what kind of challenge they were issuing to Brennan. And after seeing the wild nonsense Brennan consistently came up with for Jer'ih'meh in Bloodkeep, I can't want to see the insanity he spits out for Pete.

"You're the one who they they wanted to play a wild magic sorcerer."

Also, Brennan just using lyrics from "New York, New York" for whatever dream demon or whatever was going on in that trip was, like, equal parts clever and hilarious. Sidenote, do you think all the ep titles are gonna be from songs about NY? I mean, there are enough songs I bet.

Pete has this thing where he constantly lands on the exact wrong part of the situation to focus on. Like later when he gets stuffed in the magic closet at the hospital and he's like, "Hospitals are so advanced, also go much is this gonna cost?" Ally's comic timing on that is always perfect.

WILD that that was the first intro. Like, way to kick off the new season with a bang.  I really wonder what this episode would have felt like if this was the last intro or if the intro for the two normal people hadn’t been right at the top. Actually now that I’m editing, I feel like we almost got the intros from least experienced w/ this stuff to most experienced. Because Pete is a total noob. Sophia is also a noob but she has met Kugrash at least once. Then you have Ricky who’s only been in this for about a year. Then Kingston who probably has more experience than Kug by years but Kug has been a rat man his whole life (presumably). Finally Misty who is probably like a BS amount of years old and steeped in this stuff. Honestly,  if I was DM’ing, I might have fudged the die rolls to look exactly like how it turned out. 

Sophia

Emily describing her character and slipping into her character voice gradually as she went on was so pro.

"Like if Fran Dresher went on an Amy Winehouse bender." I love her.

"Did you not want baby bangs?"

"She's a WHOO-OAR."

I'm gonna die if Brennan make than woman an actual succubus because of an offhanded comment.

My favorite thing is when Emily is saying some nonsense and she can barely even get through it without breaking. Also, Murph is so visibly amused by Emily's entire intro. It's great.

I love that both of the "normal" characters spent most of this episode intoxicated in one way or another.

So Emily absolutely won the episode in my eyes for coming up with one of the sickest burns I've heard and in real time. A dude tells her to read his dick and she, after only a momentary pause, says, "No I'm not gonna read your dick (beat) because I don't read short stories!" Brennan doesn't even make her roll. He just narrates her success. The table goes wild. The bar she's at goes wild. Zac specifically is cracking up. Like, I feel like this is gonna be a little bit of a deep cut reference but did any of you ever play the Monkey Island games and do the insult swordfighting? That's what that scene was. Amazing.

Murph's, like, entire posture and expression (@ 1:24ish) when Emily is saying Sophia thinks she saw a giant rat man who gave her an egg sandwich and Gatorade is total gold.

"Gotta kill some brain cells to kill the ones with the memory of Dale in them."

OK so funny story (funny to me at least) at the Fantasy High live show, I was talking to some other girls who were there and we ended up talking about how the small of a woman's back is basically the worst place you can casually touch them outside of the really bad places and how viscerally terrible it is so when Brennan said one of the trolls touched one of the girls there and Sophie/Emily was like BIG NOPE, I had a That's So Raven flashback to that conversation immediately.

Emily leaps into action...and rolls a nat 1 to fight a bunch of trolls. She actually does really well in the rest of the fight though so that's good.  

Oh, also Siobhan made everyone dope themed dice boxes!

Ricky

I hope Dimension 20 runs for the next 10 years and I hope Zac plays a good, big, doofus in every single season.

"He's basically like Superman if Superman were Japanese." Love.

Also, I love the distinction that he's 5' 8" but buff.

Ricky surrounded by a raging fire: First of all, that's a cool bear.

I like the way that Brennan skinned the cleric and paladin powers for this game so they're more about values than deities. I was wondering how it was gonna work in this setting and I think this was such a cool way to handle it.  

I really think Brennan has a great handle of presenting certain things in such a way that it's interesting for the players as well as the audience. Like, when Ricky is trying to escape the burning apartment, he puts an obstacle in his way that forces him to use his Paladin powers (to create water specifically). It's not really a hard "puzzle" or something he has to roll for, but it introduces to the audiences that he's not just a firefighter. I just think it's really cool that he's able to pull off narrative things like that without actually controlling the characters. (And, props to the players too, of course, for being so consistently entertaining).

"Mr. March."

Ricky in the middle of the winter: I'm not as tan as I used to be.

Ricky rooftop runs like a freaking superhero.

OK, this is barely related to what I'm talking about right now but it's important to me that you all know this. I commented in an earlier post that Ricky clearly had circus music playing in his head at all times and then I was like, "Hmm, I wonder what that one circus song is called." You know, the song that you think about immediately when you hear the phrase "circus music" so I looked it up and APPARENTLY it is a CZECH MILITARY MARCH known alternately as (brace yourselves) ENTRY OF THE GLADIATORS and THUNDER AND BLAZES. I kid you not. That's actually what that song is called. I called my brother and told him immediately. OK, back on topic.

Is a questing blade a thing? I feel like it's a Thing from legend or fairy tales or something but, when I Google it, I come up with basically nothing.

Does Ricky have a thing for Esther or is he just a super awkward texter and nice guy who does not want to be set up by his sister for a different reason?

I need Brennan to explain how the Santa Question works in this world. The question being, "Why don't parents freak about the gifts they're not buying?" and, side question, "Why don't poor kids get presents?" My go-to answers are always, "He Jedi Mind Tricks into thinking they bought them," and, "He has to work within each family's socio-economic means in order to not be obvious." So there are def plausible answers. But, like, this is something I like to see addressed when we're doing the "Santa is real," thing.  

"I grew up with twins and one of them was worse than the others so that makes sense."

"Is Santa good?"/"The ethics of it are alarming, I won't lie."

So, my paranoid thought for this episode is I'm a little Concerned that someone down the line (maybe Esther, but hopefully not) is going to take advantage of Ricky's Big Dumb energy and his "It's the right thing to do," mentality and manipulate him into doing something Not Great. Like, it's not based on anything besides mainlining a ton of media over the past 24 years but I'm just gonna keep an eye out.

Re the Santa/Peppermint Zombification: Hey Brennan, turn your location on. I just wanna talk.

I have to say, from the bottom of my heart, what the hell?

That creeped me out in the same way that episode of Adventure time where Princess Bubblegum (infused with the primal elemental candy energy or whatever) turned everyone into Candy people and everyone started singing Let Me Call You Sweetheart. What a weirdly specific body horror thing for me to encounter more than once. That one peppermint tooth thing is gonna haunt me. 

Kingston

I gotta say, props to Lou for pulling a complete 180 on the kind of character he picked this time around. He went from playing this super extra rich pretty boy to this salt of the Earth quasi patriarch and he's just as comfortable with it. Kingston is so real. I went to church with like 50 guys like him back home.

Why are you fighting so hard about free food Kingston? Take the free homecooked food Kingston!

The intensity of his, "I will be here until I die," was hysterical.

Mentioned this before but I love the flavoring of the cleric class where instead of being attuned to a deity Kingston is basically attuned to the entire city. Also, the perks are excellent. Bus service anywhere for free. Sign me up.

I like that Ricky's sister works at the hospital. It's a really cool potential connection for later.

"We're gonna take the thing outchyo butt. We're not gonna deny you medical services."

"Aint nothing wrong with being a freak." --Kingston Brown

Fantasy creatures having to deal with updated tech (like the Toll bridge trolls talking about EZ-passes) is one of my fave urban fantasy tropes.

"I've got a really sweet smelling man here!"

"Yeah, my tooth fell out and now it's a candy. Hey, how much is this gonna cost?" This is what I’m talking about. Priorities my dude.

I love that Kingston knows Pete's weird mob doctor. It seems like part of his deal is that he just knows everything about everyone in the city (within whatever parameters).

Pete says, in quick succession about Ricky, "I feel like he would bully me," and, "He seems like a golden retriever," which I feel are almost mutually exclusive statements.

Kugrash

Well, I asked what kind of druid nonsense was happening in Central Park and the answer is Murph apparently.

I really wish I could have been there when Murph announced he wanted to play a literal rat.

"I am the shit that feeds the flies. A dumpster druid."

"Wherever you are rat Jesus, I love you." You're killing me Brennan.

Aww Kugrash goes around feeding the homeless and stuff. He's like this grumpy ass rat man who really cares about the community.

"Santa you fucking bum." --Kugrash

"I'm sorry are you a rat?"

The idea of a roach with a hobo sack pisses me off because it's adorable but roaches are the worst.

"Is Santa dead?"/"I don't know. I'm not religious."

"Santa Claus is real and he's DEAD."

Brennan loves to use the modifiers "full" and "fully" and I have picked it up irl and in my writing.

"Let's get a little fucked up and go see if Santa's dead!"

Just that whole squirrel interaction.

The sixth borough huh? Interesting. I see you Brennan.

Also, the detail that Kug's clothes are made from old MTA vests is great.

Misty

Siobahn is playing basically exactly the character I thought she'd be playing but she's doing it so much better and more extra than I could have imagined.

"A lady would never say her age, so I won't."

Is her pianist magic or something too? I have my suspicions.

So Misty gets some kind of bard and/or fairy high from praise and adoration which is interesting.

What kind of weird, morally dubious and/or unpleasant fae thing is Misty gonna have to do soonish? It's not gonna be good. Fae stuff never is.

DON CONFETTI

"I don't study magic. I just *am* magic."

So many of these intro vignettes end with, "You don't know that...but you do know who does." Like I said before, I really love the weaving together of all the story threads to get everyone in the same place at the same time in an organic feeling way.

Also he makes all these transitions sound cinematic, like he's writing the description parts of a movie script and not narrating in person.

Public Library! I knew we'd end up here eventually but I didn't know it'd be pretty much immediately. Like, if you're going w/ the "NY is magic" premise, the library has to figure in, you know?

Emily immediately having Sophia recognize Ricky as Mr. March was such a funny and on point character decision. I love how one-off, spur of the moment lines end up being running jokes because other players pick on them and drop them an hour later.

"Are you a rat?"/"Yeah, I'm a rat man!"/"I'm sorry if that was rude."

Brennan: The lions are alive and they're boyfriends.

Misty and Siobhan both are genre savvy enough to want to nip a knights/knave door puzzle situation in the bud.

Ricky on escape rooms: I'm not very good at them but I can definitely try my hardest. (Guys, I love him so much.)

Love me some MC Escher steps.

Underrated Misty line: It's all infernal to me.

Misty's little, "Ugh" at learning they have to go to Times Square is the real NY experience.

Is this Alejandro dude gonna die? What's the over under on this dude eating it very soon?

Misty encouraging Pete to shoot Alejandro is so needlessly chaotic which is a common fae trait and I really hope this escalates.

I dunno what Murph rolled for initiative but he looks like he just shamed his entire family line.

And we’re fighting an army of crazed Santa clones next week! We have literally just started and we are already fully off the rails.  I cannot *wait* to see where we go from here if this is the *starting point*. 

#dimension 20 #the unsleeping city #asks #anon #Anonymous

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

Sexiled (Part 1/23) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader College!AU

A/N: Hello lovelies! So this is the story I was going to post last night, but then life got in the way. So you get a Monday post! Yay! lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Nat sexiles you the night before an exam so you decide to crash on your common room couch. Too bad there’s already someone there. 

Characters/pairings: Steve Rogers, eventual Steve x reader, Nat and Bucky mentioned 

Rating: T 

Warnings: Language (that’s it) 

Word count:  1532

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

(8:53 PM) Natasha: Do you mind staying out of the room tonight?

(9:25 PM) Natasha: I’m guessing since you didn’t answer you’re cool with it. Thanks! Love you!

You groaned as you stepped off the elevator. It was almost 3 AM and you had an exam in the morning. And because of said exam you had turned your phone off to study nine hours ago, apparently missing some very important news.

“At least the common room has a comfy couch,” you muttered as you trudged down the hall.

You were mentally calculating how much sleep was necessary for you to be awake for your exam when you turned the corner and found the couch you’d been planning on crashing on occupied.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Apparently you were louder than you intended because the guy jolted awake and started looking around for his books.

“Crap, I’m going to be late for my exam.”

“Easy there. It’s only 3 AM, and I don’t know of any classes here that start before 8,” You joked and he leaned back against the couch.

You couldn’t help but admire his physique as his chest heaved, and your cheeks burned when he caught you staring at him.

“Do I know you?” He squinted like he was trying to place you.

“I don’t think so.”

You would remember meeting someone so attractive.

“Well, in that case. Hi. I’m Steve.”

“Y/n.” You waved one hand somewhat awkwardly as you dumped your backpack on the table and moved to the sink to fill your water bottle. “So, Steve, I’m like sixty-two percent confident you don’t live on this floor. So why are you asleep in my common room?”

“How are you only sixty percent sure I don’t live here?” he asked somewhat incredulously.

“Sixty-two percent,” you corrected.

“I was studying for an exam with a friend and he decided to call it quits about,” he glanced at his watch, “An hour ago and I thought I’d take a twenty minute power nap before cranking out a few more hours of studying.” He grinned as he ran a hand through his messy blond hair. “So what’s your excuse?”

“Exam in the morning. Just got back from the library to find I’ve been sexiled. So I was planning on crashing on the couch.”

You sat cross-legged in one of the arm chairs and redid your messy bun before pulling your binder out of your backpack

“Well I apologize for taking your bed.”

“It’s okay,” you shrugged. “I should keep cramming anyways.”

“What are you studying for?” He asked as he looked around for his notebook.

“Chem 101,” You groaned.

“Wait, really? Me too. Are you in Erskine’s 8AM?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Wait that’s why I recognize you. You sit front right and answer all the hard questions.”

“Not really,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious. You’d been labelled “teacher’s pet” practically your whole life and it wasn’t a nickname you were eager to bring with you into college.

“I didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” he smiled apologetically. “I wish I followed along that well. I feel like I’m always five steps behind.”

You weren’t sure what to say. You wanted to be encouraging but you also knew this was a weed out course.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. But if you’re going to keep cramming, we could study together.”

“That’s be great.”

“Awesome. Okay. Let’s get started.”

You hopped up and closed the doors to the common room so you wouldn’t bother anyone and then pulled out the rest of your notes.

“Umm. Wow.”

You glanced up and he was staring at the rainbow papers in your hand.

“Colors help me study,” you told him sheepishly.

“Do you do that during class?”

“Oh God no. This is what I spent eight hours on in the library tonight.”

The look of shock faded and he nodded.

“That makes a lot more sense.”

“So umm, where do you want to start?” You asked nervously.

“Let’s do the most recent section on bonding?” He suggested, flipping through his own notebook.

“Sure. Sounds good.”

The two of you studied surprisingly well together and by 6AM when your first alarm went off you were both feeling fairly confident.

“I think that’s about all my brain can take,” he groaned slightly as he stretched and you couldn’t help but notice the strip of skin that was exposed as his t-shirt rose up. “I think I’m going to go take a shower and try to wake up.”

“Probably a good idea. I’m probably going to fall asleep during the exam,” you half-laughed as you stretched your neck. “Maybe I should skip the nap and go try to track down some coffee and start the caffeinating now.”

“No way, you need sleep for sure.”

“I’m kind of afraid I’m going to sleep through my exam. Besides, I don’t think I’m going to get much sleep out here.”

As if to prove your point three different people exited their rooms to shower in the next few seconds. Steve frowned slightly before looking at you with a slightly bashful expression.

“Well, since I’m gonna shower. You could come nap in my bed. And then I can make sure you’re up for the exam.”

“I couldn’t possibly. I mean, what about your roommate?”

“He had PT this morning at 6.”

You couldn’t believe you were actually considering this. But you were exhausted and it would mean you didn’t have to worry about waking up for the exam.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. If you’d rather I can just come back up here and wake you.”

A few more people started traipsing into the common room, and you knew you’d never get any sleep.

“Actually, I think I will take you up on that offer. Thank you.”

He smiled and grabbed your backpack.

“It’s the least I can do. I did steal your couch after all,” he grinned.

It turned out he lived two floors below you. The room was neater than you’d anticipated. Both lofted beds were made and the desks held stacks of papers and books.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to the bed on the right side of the room before turning to his drawers to gather clothes for the day. “What’s wrong?” he asked when he noticed you hadn’t moved.

“Uhhm…” You eyed the gap between the floor and the bed warily. He’d removed the ladder that typically went with lofts, clearly not needing it.

“Oh, right,” he laughed to himself putting two and two together. “I usually use the desk to get up there.”

“Okay, if you don’t me using it then I’m good.”

You kicked your shoes off next to his desk and sat on it before swinging your legs up and spinning so you could stand. You wobbled slightly and Steve reflexively extended his hands towards you. From the desk, you were able to swing your leg up and haul yourself into the bed.

Steve tugged the blanket from the end of his bed over you.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, the softness of the bed already lulling you to sleep.

“Sleep tight, y/n.”

  You groaned as you were shaken awake.

“Go away, Nat. My alarm isn’t even ringing,” you mumbled burrowing further under the covers.

However your eyes snapped open when you heard the throaty chuckle that most definitely did not belong to your roommate. You bolted upright, looking around to orient yourself. The piercing blue eyes you came face to face with didn’t exactly help your focus; you were hyper aware of his warm hand on your shoulder.

“Hi,” you squeaked out.

“Good morning,” he grinned. “How do you take your coffee?”

“On exam days… black.”

He hopped off the desk and set a mug under the Keurig, as you tried to wake yourself up.

“You know those are illegal,” you teased.

“Trust me. I’m providing a public service. Under-caffeinated Bucky Barnes is not good for anyone.”

“Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

He handed you the cup before hoisting himself onto the bed next to you.

Inhaling deeply, you let out a content sigh. “Cute boy bringing me coffee. You know, this is not such a bad way to wake up.”

“Happy to be of service.”

You grimaced. “I said that out loud didn’t I?”

He nodded, smirking.

“I’m just going to drink my coffee. Under-caffeinated y/n y/l/n isn’t good for anyone.”

“I don’t know about that,” he teased. “She seems pretty nice to me.”

Rolling your eyes, you nudged his shoulder.

Once the caffeine was coursing through your system, the realization that you had an exam hit.

“Okay. Right. Exam. Let’s do this.”

Steve took the empty mug from you before helping you down from the bed.

“Well I should go change, assuming my roommate isn’t having round 2. Thanks for the coffee and for letting me crash in your bed.”

“Anytime.”

You arched an eyebrow and he blushed.

“I just meant it was my pleasure. I mean… I…”

“You’re gonna hurt yourself. Seriously thank you. I’ll see you at the exam.”

“See ya.”

You felt him watching you as you walked to the elevator and you bit your lip to keep from giggling.

 A/N: So full disclaimer I do not recommend that you sleep i random strangers beds. lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this! I had a lot of fun writing it. Stay tuned for more fluffy goodness. 

Tag lists are Open! 

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#Steve Rogers #steve x reader #College!Au