Hai there! Welcome to the land of my Marvel Universe!
Here's the need to knows about my stories:
⍟ I currently only write Marvel stories, mainly Bucky, Loki, Steve, or some combination of that, but I might expand that later on in the far future. Check them out in my masterlist!
(Please note all characters that are not my own are owned by Marvel/Disney and all that other I'm not stealing stuff).
⍟ I write a lot of fluff. A. Lot. Of. Fluff. I'm a firm believer in HEAs when I read so I write them too, fair warning.
⍟ I have dabbled in and plan to write more smut so... 18+ only please, especially with those stories. I'm going to trust that if you read something marked for that on my masterlist, then you're agreeing that you're of legal age.
⍟ I'm a slow writer. I don't put out stories very often unfortunately so I apologize, but I do try to post as frequently as possible with my chaotic schedule.
⍟ Please don't copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my stories without my express permission.
⍟ My works can be found here (mostly my drabbles) and on AO3.
I think that's just about everything! Please enjoy and read responsibly!
“Does this fanfic writer have adequate enrichment to engage in writing behaviours?”
Fanfiction writers (Scriptor fictus) are intelligent animals who need plenty of enrichment as well as encouragement! If they’re stuck in poor conditions (e.g. have studies, work, have to actually write to have something written) then they require the proper enrichment to engage in more healthy behaviours, like writing. Remember, due to poor breeding and socialisation, over half of all fanfic writers suffer from low self confidence and executive dysfunction so take care of them!
Give your fanfic writers proper care. Fanfiction writers are a life long commitment.
Oh. My. Gosh! Look, I’m writing again! I hate it’s been so long since I have thanks to working, finishing school, family, and lots of writer’s block. But, I’m excited to share with you all my latest work. I hope you lovelies enjoy it as much as I do. Much love! Divider courtesy of @firefly-graphics.
AO3 fans can read this here if you’d rather use that site.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x f!OC (Elena)
Summary: After a year of being with Elena and her two-year-old daughter Maya, Steve is content to enjoy life with them. He’s finally found a place where he’s calm, loved, and happy. He couldn’t imagine anything at the time was missing from his life. That is, until Maya spoke two words that shook his world.
Warnings: too much fluff, all the family fluff, Steve gets emotional from all the sweetness (yes, those are serious warnings…)
Word Count: 1,277
Sunlight slanted through the blinds of the apartment window, painting stripes across the well-worn rug. Steve Rogers, muscles pleasantly loose after a rare afternoon off, nestled deeper into the worn leather of the sofa. Beside him, curled up, was Elena, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder. A book lay forgotten in her lap, its pages fanned open, awaiting her to resume her reading.
Elena sighed, a soft sound that carried the weight of a thousand worries lifted. "Peaceful, isn't it?" she murmured, tracing the lines on Steve's hand with a single finger.
He smiled, his heart swelling in his chest. "Feels like a lifetime ago since we last had an afternoon like this."
It was true. Steve, still adjusting to the 21st century, found the constant work contracting with S.H.I.E.L.D. familiar, yet exhausting. But Elena, an artist with a big heart, made him feel grounded, connected. And then there was Maya.
Two-year-old Maya, with her bright, curious eyes and a mess of fiery curls, was Elena's daughter from a previous relationship. Steve wasn't Maya's biological father, a fact that gnawed at him sometimes. But Elena had gently assured him that family wasn't just about blood.
Suddenly, the gentle peace shattered. Maya, who had been playing contentedly on the floor with a collection of mismatched plastic animals, turned her head towards Steve. Her face, usually lit by a mischievous grin, crumpled into a pout. "Up, Daddy!" she declared, her voice as commanding as its childlike tone could be.
The air caught in Steve's throat. In the past few months he'd grown incredibly fond of the little girl, reading her stories with voices that, in his mind, matched the characters of her bedtime tales, building precarious towers out of blocks and giant LEGOs, even suffering through countless singalongs of "Baby Shark". But he never dared to believe…
Elena's smile bloomed, radiating pure joy. "She did it, Steve! Maya called you Daddy!"
He looked at Elena, then back at Maya, her small arms outstretched. Hesitantly, he reached out, the weathered skin of his palm meeting Maya's soft, sticky fingers. A rush of warmth flooded him as she squealed with delight and launched herself into his arms. The scent of sunshine and bubblegum shampoo filled his senses. Maya clung to his chest, her tiny face nuzzling against his t-shirt.
He held her close, the weight of her a comforting anchor. A lump formed in his throat as he realized how much this little girl meant to him. He wasn't just Captain America anymore. He was Steve, the guy who built block castles and chased bubbles with Maya. The guy who dreamt of reading her stories long after she drifted off to sleep.
Elena watched from beside him on the sofa, a soft smile playing on her lips. "See? You're practically a dad already," she teased.
"Practically?" Steve chuckled, a sound that rumbled low in his chest. He cradled Maya closer, her head resting on his shoulder. "I don't know, Els. Feels pretty darn real to me."
Life wasn't perfect. There were moments of frustration, of spilled food and tantrums, of feeling utterly out of his depth. But when Maya looked at him with those trusting eyes, calling him "Daddy", it made it all worthwhile. He knew there would be challenges – explaining the whole "super soldier" thing when she was older certainly promised to be interesting – but he wouldn't trade these moments for anything.
The afternoon wore on, filled with the quiet symphony of life – Maya's giggles as Steve spun her around in the living room, the comforting rustle of turning pages as he read her another story, the gentle murmur of Elena's voice as she spoke to her mother on the phone. It wasn't much, but in the quiet normalcy of it all, Steve found a peace he hadn't known he craved before his two best girls entered his life.
Later, as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, Steve found himself rocking Maya in his arms, singing her an Irish lullaby his mother used to sing to him. Her eyelids fluttered, and in a voice thick with sleep, she mumbled, "Love you, Daddy."
His heart overflowed with a bittersweet joy. He might have missed out on raising a child of his own, but Maya had filled a void he hadn't realized existed. Maybe someday, fate would allow him to be a father in the traditional sense, but for now, being "Daddy" to Maya was enough. It was a gift, a chance to pour his love and experience into a young life, a chance to create a different kind of family, one built on love, laughter, and the unwavering belief in the inherent good of people, a belief he hoped to instill in Maya.
As Maya drifted off to sleep, Steve gently placed her in her crib. He straightened the colorful quilt, whispering a silent promise to protect her dreams. Elena, leaning against the doorway, her eyes filled with warmth, watched him.
"You're a natural," she said softly, stepping closer.
Steve turned, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I never thought I'd have this," he admitted, gesturing towards the sleeping child. "A family."
Elena reached out, her fingers tracing the lines on his face, the faint crinkles etched by time and battles. "Maybe not the family you envisioned," she said, "but family nonetheless."
He leaned into her touch, the weight of the shield he carried for the world momentarily lifted by the simple comfort of her presence. "It's more than I ever dared to hope for," he confessed.
They stood there in a comfortable silence, the only sound Maya's soft breaths. The future was uncertain, the world still a dangerous place, but in that moment, Steve felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could have it all – the duty he held dear and the love he craved. Perhaps being Captain America and having a family weren't mutually exclusive. Perhaps they could be woven together, a tapestry rich with responsibility and love.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the window, rousing Steve. He stretched, a contented sigh escaping his lips. The scent of coffee and pancakes wafted through the air, a familiar domesticity that warmed him from the inside out.
He found Maya perched on a stool in the kitchen, her chubby legs dangling. Elena, her hair pulled back in a messy bun, flipped a pancake with a flourish.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," Elena greeted, her smile lighting up the room.
"Morning," Steve mumbled, padding towards the table. Maya, spotting him, squealed with delight.
"Daddy!" she shrieked, reaching out her arms.
Steve scooped her up, the familiar weight a source of comfort. He kissed her forehead, the scent of baby powder and sunshine filling his senses.
"Pancakes, Captain America?" Elena asked, a playful glint in her eyes.
Steve grinned, pulling Maya closer. "Wouldn't miss them for the world."
As he sat down, a plate piled high with pancakes placed in front of him, Steve couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude. He might not have had the traditional path to a family, but here he was, surrounded by love and laughter, a feeling far more nourishing than any super soldier serum.
Life, he realized, wasn't just about saving the world. It was about the quiet moments, the shared breakfasts, the bedtime stories. It was about building a life, a messy, beautiful life, with the people who mattered most. And in that moment, with Elena stacking the finished pancakes and Maya perched on his lap, a sticky hand reaching for his cheek, Steve knew he had found his own happily ever after.
How would Bucky react to someone trying to blackmail him or try to blackmail malyshka
Bucky if someone tried to blackmail him
"Good luck with that. Now get the fuck out of my office."
Bucky if someone tries to blackmail his wife.
"Oh look at that. Can't blackmail someone if you can't breathe. By the time I'm done with you, the only thing people are going to remember when they hear your name is what happens when you upset my wife. "
I found a moment to write something for a holiday and had it done on time! There's a first time for everything! It's short and small and not what I'd originally wanted to do for the day of love, but I worked with my real life demands and was able to create this, so I'm happy. I hope it makes you just as happy as it makes me.
This story is inspired by this TikTok. Not sure why this scene below is what popped in my head as I watched it, but I stopped trying to understand how my logic jumps around long ago. Divider courtesy of @firefly-graphics. Make sure to check them out!
Pairing: Loki x f!OC (Astra)
Summary: The mortal Loki can't help but admire puts him unknowingly further under her spell.
Warnings: fluffy cute
Word Count: 854
Loki opened the door to his rooms at the tower and paused for a moment before continuing all the way in and closing the door silently behind him. Bracing against it, he crossed his arms and enjoyed the show in front of him with a smirk on his face. Astra, the housekeeper of the tower and a woman he was beyond enamored with, was dancing around his room. Despite the fact he couldn't hear the song she was listening to due to her headphones, he was enjoying her melodic voice as she belted the words to the song in her ears.
"Would things be easier if there was a right way? Honey, there is no right way," she crooned as she bounced and swayed her hips to the beat only she could hear. It was then she spun and he couldn't fight the full smile that pulled at his lips as his heart tried to leap out of his chest. Her long hair that looked as if it was made of moonlight swung with her movements, revealing her pale, heart shaped face. Eyes he knew were a brown so deep it was almost black were closed as naturally pink lips moved to the lyrics. Letting his eyes trail down from there, he noticed something that had him both anxious and amused.
Lifted near her luscious lips was the pummel of his favorite dagger, the one who's pair sat resting on his desk across the room. With her small hand wrapped around the hilt, he stared as she used it the same way Loki had watched Stark wield the device they called a microphone at his parties. The God nearly launched himself over to take it from her, fearful she might accidentally hurt herself, but he held back. He had his magic, and if it appeared she was about to cause herself injury, he'd summon it to his own hand instead.
"And so I fall in love just a little, oh, a little bit. Everyday with someone new. I fall in love just a little, oh, a little bit," Astra continued, her voice just as hypnotizing as her body with is graceful sway. It was everything he could do to keep the heart eyes out of his expression. Her bouncing hips were enticing and he desired to rest his cold hands against them as he moved his body with her; a fantasy that he had many times. He'd wanted to tell her numerous times how he fancied her, but after what he'd done there years ago, he couldn't bring himself to. He, like with Mjolnir, wasn't worthy of her.
In the middle of the chorus she was singing, her eyes suddenly opened before she squealed. The jump she made had him following through on his safety measures, his dagger suddenly appearing in his hand. "What an interesting choice for a singing instrument, my little nightingale. Of all things in this room, you chose one of my favorite daggers." A bit of a stern look crossed his face as he continued, "A fairly unsafe choice, but I cannot say I was not entertained."
Pink that matched her shock-parted lips filled her cheeks and was spreading throughout her face, her embarrassment painted for any to see. "Oh gosh, Loki! I'm so sorry! I know I shouldn't have... I was just... I just get..." She couldn't seem to get the rest of her thought out, but this was not his first time peering unknowingly at the housekeeper. He'd watched Astra around the residential area of the tower since she'd started working for Stark. He knew there were times when the music seemed to capture her as if it had her in a trance. When that happened, he enjoyed seeing her grab whatever was nearby that fit into her hand and she'd swing, sway, bounce, or jump along to her singing. She always looked happier than he'd ever seen her when those moments happened, and he lived for spying on those moments.
"It is alright, dear," he comforted as he slowly stalked closer to her. "I do understand that you were enjoying the song you could hear. "It was quite fetching a sight you displayed. I only came to claim my book before reading in the sitting room." It was a lie, he'd planned to read in his room where he could be alone and undisturbed, but he would rather be bothered than disrupt her joyous daze the act of singing and dancing gave her.
With a snap of his fingers, he replaced the dagger in his hand with a novel from his shelf. "Have fun, little nightingale," he called as he turned on his heel and departed the room with a new memory to enjoy when he was away from her. What he missed when he left as Astra continued to hear the words "I fall in love just a little, oh, a little bit" in her ears was the longing in her gaze, the way her heart had sped up in his presence, or the thought about how true that one line was when it came to the God of Mischief in her eyes.
My first ever writing challenge! This was hard for me to write at moments. Celiac Disease is something I live with and while I didn't suffer the same rejection that the reader of the story does, I've heard stories of others who have. It also puts words to some of the fears I have, so it was hard but nice to write. I hope you all see the "new beginning" that I felt in the end.
Pairing: Bucky x fem!reader
Summary: Following a new diagnosis, you avoid Bucky and the rest of the Avengers in fear that they won't accept how your life has to change because of it.
Warnings: hurt/comfort, soft!Bucky, moment of self-hate, discussion of Celiac Disease (symptoms and such), mentions of medical treatments, rejection, anxiety/fear, tell me if I missed something.
Word Count: 3,298
Divider courtesy of @firefly-graphics. Make sure to check them out!
Ten days.
You had avoided Bucky, and the rest of the Avengers for that matter, for ten days. Avoiding them was a job in and of itself considering you worked in one of the offices on the lower floors of Stark Tower. There had been a lot of keeping your phone off so you couldn't be tempted to answer calls or texts. You'd made the hours you left the office for lunch and to go home irregular so they wouldn't know when you leaving and weren't. This task had been helped by your assistant who fortunately had a shinier backbone than you because not even Natasha could intimidate her into letting the former assassin into your office.
You were seriously going to talk to people in HR about her getting a really good bonus at the end of the year.
From making yourself seem not at home to avoiding areas and places you frequented, it was easy to see that you were going above and beyond to not run into your boyfriend or any of his friends. Mostly your boyfriend, if you were being completely honest with yourself. But hey, avoiding two realities that were hard to face was a lot of work.
You didn't want to face the fact that you'd lied to Bucky, for the first time, about a very serious topic. And you weren't ready to possibly face even more ridicule and disappointment. That's why, eleven days ago, you'd lied and told Bucky that your doctor's appointment had gone fine and you were actually perfectly healthy.
Which was the lie you'd been avoiding dealing with.
You'd actually left your gastroenterologist with the diagnosis of Celiac Disease, an autoimmune disorder that causes your intestines to react to gluten, a protein often found in wheat, rye, or barley, but seems to be in to just about any and everything these days as well. The problem with the disorder is that over time, your the reaction had caused damage to your small intestines, which led to malnutrition, aches in your joints, fatigue, constipation, bloating, stomach pain, and sometimes nausea.
What had hit you possibly the hardest was the knowledge that there was no cure for this disease. Instead, you had to completely change your way of eating. All pizzas, pastries, and doughs were out of the question. No more beers with the group. Buns and breaded foods were untouchable. Research had also taught you that prepackaged foods or frozen meals were a no go as well unless it explicitly said "gluten free" on the packaging somewhere.
You loved food and that had been a hard blow to handle, but it only got worse from your perspective as the doctor continued to explain that the damage to your intestines had caused them to become inflamed. Due to the fact it would take at least six months for your body to start healing, he didn't want to put you on an oral anti-inflammatory. Nope, instead, you were going vegan too. All meats and animal products were just as against the rules as gluten.
You'd went home after that and cleaned out your fridge and cabinets, but looking at the that it left you with only a few veggies, ketchup and mustard, and a box of KIND bars that were conveniently already gluten free and vegan, you were lost on what you could eat now.
You decided to do what would become a huge regret and the basis for why you'd lied to Bucky. You called your mom.
Your mom had always been there for you in her own way, you didn't think this would be any different. You thought she'd be a support for you, help guide you through what exactly to do. But that wasn't exactly how that went down. You can still hear your mother's voice in your head. "I'm so sorry you have to deal with this, sweetie," she'd said with all the pity in the world for your plight.
"Thanks, Mom." You sighed before continuing on with the other purpose behind calling and telling her about your diagnosis. "I was hoping you could help me figure out what to do about this since it affects all of us."
The long silence, even through a phone, had been stifling before she almost innocently asked, "What do you mean it affects all of us?"
"It affects us all when we sit down to have a meal together or celebrate a holiday or birthday. A whole new menu will have to be created and I can't imagine how much harder it will be to cook in this new style." This statement just made you feel so guilty. You loathed having to be the reason for such a big change in how you spent time with your loved ones, it left a weight on your shoulders that you hadn't had before.
"Can't you just, oh I don't know dear, pick the veggies out of things we already make? You know your sister's birthday is next month and she always wants me to make my quiche. Surely, you can just pick it apart."
You weren't sure if your mother's words made you want to scream or sob in frustration, but the weight of guilt became even heavier. Your family was all about traditions, even down to the meals made for your birthdays each year. You always had the same thing, each individual's favorite food and cake. Now, thanks to your new diagnosis, you were throwing a wrench into that.
You sighed sadly, "No, Mom, that's not how it works. Especially not for that meal. Quiche is purely animal products thanks to the ham, eggs, cheese, and milk in it. Not to mention, the crust is pure gluten thanks to the wheat. I can't pick the vegetables out of it because they'll still have bits of egg and such on them and I could still be ingesting gluten thanks to cross-contamination. I have to be extremely careful about food now."
Now, it was your mom's turn to sigh, except hers sounded like frustration. "Well, maybe you should just eat before you come because I'm not forcing your sister to eat something she doesn't like on her birthday just because you can't."
The statement would've sent you to the floor if you hadn't been sitting down already. You quickly made an excuse and rushed off the phone, placing it beside you on your sofa as you sat there wondering how to feel about this.
Your heart felt so heavy with devastation. Was it really so much to ask that your mom, your family, support you in what was better for your health? It's not like you were doing this to join in on the craze it had been once. This was your doctor's orders for your medical condition. If you disregarded the orders, you'd continue to do more damage to your intestines. That route led to destroying parts of your intestinal tract, surgeries, maybe even a colostomy bag. What was so wrong with wanting them to work with your limitations?
Guilt overtook the devastation. Did your mom have a point? None of them had to eat that way, they didn't have the diagnosis. You did. You really thought over your mother's last question. Could you just eat before you go over? If you did that though, it meant sitting around the table while everyone else ate food that you loved, food you knew was delicious and reminded you of home, food that was some of your favorites, right in front of you while you sat there left out completely. It would be the biggest tease, like dangling a bone in front of a dog and never giving it to them in the end. It felt cruel that your mother would want you to feel that, feel like you were missing out.
Maybe, once you'd fully accepted this new lifestyle and way of eating, you could be okay with sitting around foods that you used to be able to eat without it bothering you. But this diagnosis was brand new and there was no way you'd be able to accept it yet. Tears at the idea of sitting through dinner without getting to enjoy food, snacks, and birthday cake with the rest of your family were already spilling down your cheeks.
A new self-hatred began to brew. Your body was too broken. You could never enjoy "normal" food again. You were doomed to be left out for good.
Sadly, ten days later, that feeling had only continued as you learned the difficulty that finding gluten free and vegan foods had become. As a result, you'd resorted to cooking lots of vegetables every day so you'd have lunches and dinners and using your KIND bars for breakfast. Don't even get started on coffee either. God, how you missed having creamer in your coffee...
Your longing for creamer was what you'd been thinking about as you entered your apartment, only to freeze in your tracks at the brunette that stood in front of you. The brunette that obviously had broken into your apartment if you really wanted to get technical.
"What are you doing here," you asked after you came out of the surprise of seeing him in your living room.
"I need to know," Bucky said, his eyes downcast. Your big, burly Avenger wasn't able to look at you and his next words just created a fissure in your heart. "Have I scared you in some way? Is dating the Winter Soldier finally catching up to you? I understand if you feel like you need to protect yourself."
You whispered, "No, that's not it at all. I've never been scared of you."
"Then what is it? Did I do something? I thought things with us were okay, I don't understand why you don't want to be with me anymore. I never stopped loving you."
"I love you too, Bucky. I never stopped."
Bucky looked up at you, and not only did tears form in your eyes, but they silently slid down your cheeks, creating silver tracks down your face that matched the silver lining his own eyes. "Then what did I do," he whispered dejectedly. "Why do you want nothing to do with me?"
That guilt you'd been feeling the past eleven days suddenly increased tenfold and the weight of it was nearly enough to send you to your knees. This wasn't what you'd wanted, but you knew what was coming. You knew you'd have to be honest and you'd have to face what you'd been avoiding. At least Bucky knew the end of your relationship was coming, just not for the reasons he expected.
Your heart was already beginning to crack more and more as the realization dawned on you. You couldn't put this off anymore. This man you loved was going to walk away from you. Reject you and what your life would need to be. Knowing you couldn't prevent this any longer, instead of dragging it out, you just ripped off the band aid. Best to get all the hurt over with immediately.
"You didn't do anything Buck, I lied to you." You made your way to your sofa and collapsed onto it as you explained your diagnosis, the symptoms, the fact that it was incurable, and the treatment for it and the steps to healing. Bucky had asked questions throughout your explanation of your situation and you'd explained all you knew from the doctor's information and your own research about the disorder. When you'd finished explaining to him, he sat there silently for a moment, absorbing all you'd told him before he looked at you as if you'd lost every brain cell in your head.
"That's why you've been avoiding everyone," he asked incredulously. "Avoiding me? Because your diet is different now?"
You furrowed your brows at the question. "Well, yes. That's kind of why." Why did he sound like he thought you were being stupid?
He scoffed. "That makes no sense." Your eyes widened in surprise before heat rose up your neck and into your face. Indignation had you shooting to your feet, in turn surprising your super soldier, before you paced in front of the sofa.
"It makes complete sense," you admonished. "This affects everything from now on! No more late nights with pizza or Thai take out. I can't join the gang for a drink at the bar when the superheroes decide they want to have a party night. We can't go to just any ol' restaurant for a date anymore. Everything I eat now is homemade because I'm not sure where it's safe to eat at in this city! And I'm sorry, I can't sit around you or your friends and be okay with watching everyone else eat food that I love and enjoyed once upon a time while I'm stuck there with nothing to eat. I'm not a good enough person to be able to do that."
He blinked as he took in what you said. "I wouldn't ask that of you, doll," he breathed as he rose from the sofa and caught your arm, effectively ending your pacing and forcing you to stand in front of him. Cold, metal fingers gently pushed your chin up until you were looking at him before he continued. "I can see how this affects everything, but it doesn't change that I want to support you through it. You might have to help me, but I'm willing to learn whatever I need to so that you don't get sick again.
"I'm not the only one either," he continued as water filled your eyes at his comforting words. "Every Avenger loves you. Steve beams whenever he gets to show you his art. Sam seeks you out because you laugh harder at his jokes than anyone else. Nat loves having a female friend that accepts her. Bruce is comfortable enough to smile around you, and not awkwardly, I might add, and you're basically the only one who can put Tony in his place and not have him act prideful about it. Not a single one of them would have a problem with this change."
"But they shouldn't have to," you sobbed, the dam on your emotions breaking. "You shouldn't have to either." Your heart filled with warmth despite your head telling you to be cautious. All you wanted to do was fall into those reassurances, but your own family couldn't even accept this. Why would anyone who didn't share blood with you care that strongly?
"Who told you that, doll?"
You sniffled as you responded, "My mother." You explained the conversation you'd had with your mom as you felt Bucky stiffen more with each word until you were sure his body was just as hard as the vibranium of his arm. He never cared much for your mom, but he knew you loved her and never tried to cause problems for the relationship you had with your family.
Bucky closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before opening them again. His hands made their way to your cheeks, holding your face with such tenderness that you cried more. His thumbs continuously wiped the moisture from your face as he lovingly said, "I don't care what anyone else wants, but you. You are the most important person to me. You are my future, and if we have a future that lacks gluten or even meats and all that stuff, then I'm fully ready for that. Let me prove it to you, can I get that chance?"
You hesitated for a moment. Cross-contamination was a real issue and you were terrified that it could happen if you didn't cook for yourself. That aside, there wasn't much you could eat to begin with. The rejection was on the tip of your tongue, but Bucky's sweet, puppy eyed stare showed you how much he wanted to do this for you. Suddenly, you felt your head nodding in his hands. He grinned before pulling you into his safe, warm embrace and let you get the rest of your pent up emotions out before he joined you for dinner that night. That night, he didn't stay over, but instead kissed you on the top of your head before telling you he'd call you the following day and that he'd be planning to invite you over for food soon.
Ten days.
Ten days since you'd explained your condition to Bucky and he'd asked for the chance to show you how accepting he was of your new lifestyle. Your stomach roiled as your hands shook with nerves. A large hand enveloped yours as Bucky looked down at you. "Just trust me," he said with a smile on his face. You could see the gleam of excitement in his eyes as you rode the elevator in the tower up to the Avengers floors. You'd tried to ask Bucky questions about what was happening today, but he just kept telling you it was a surprise.
And that was the first word that you heard as the elevator doors parted. A loud chorus of "Surprise!" rang through the entryway to the first floor of their residence, which was where their kitchen, dining, and lounge area was. You gasped as you looked at the smiling faces of your friends before Nat pulled you away from Bucky and looped her arm over your shoulder, guiding you towards the dining room.
"If you ever question how much we all care for you," the Widow quietly said, "you'll leave me no choice but to hit you." Despite the threat, you couldn't help but smile at your friend. You knew she meant well and that she'd never truly hurt you. Your feet stopped as you rounded the corner and a loud gasp filled the air once your eyes locked on the dining table.
It was full of food.
"What is all this," you breathed as Bucky came up behind you and led you to a seat. Tony was the one who answered though. "This is dinner. I had a few calls made, got in touch with a chef that prepared both gluten free and vegan food, by the way, you should try The Herb Garden on Hudson Street. Anyway, all of it are things you can eat. Jackfruit BBQ, heart of palm 'lobster' salad, grilled corn, garlic knots, fettuccini alfredo, mushroom risotto, spring rolls, and salad. Any foods you life, let me or F.R.I.D.A.Y. know and we'll keep it stocked for you to have when you stay over with Manchurian Candidate over there."
You looked over the selections and it all made your mouth water. It also looked so... normal. "Wait," you asked as everyone started to grab servings of various options. "You guys are eating this too?"
Steve, who sat across from you, smiled as he answered, "You might not fight bad guys like us, but that doesn't make you any less one of us. You're family. Not a single one of us wants you to feel different."
"Besides," Sam chimed in, "it's just food. No need to make a big deal out of what's being served as long as it's good."
You looked around the table and saw the nods and smiles of agreement of each and every person there. Your gaze fell on your boyfriend last, who was grinning lovingly at you before placing a kiss on your forehead. "They're right," he said just loud enough for you to hear. "You're family and we take care of our own."
Tears filled your eyes again, but you blinked them away as you enjoyed the warmth that filled your chest. You loved this team, this man who chose to stay by your side. As you filled your plate with a bit of everything to try, you couldn't help but hear a small voice in the back of your head that told you maybe this didn't have to be the end of a normal life as you knew it. Maybe this was just the start of a new normal instead.
I don't have Celiac Disease, but the writing is so good. I completely understand the idea, the message. The most importantly, that if you want somebody, you could change and be kind/considerate to the other, to help to live with this and enjoy a good time.
Thank you so much for your kind words! It’s a message I really wanted to share since it’s something I live with, the fear or rejection and ridicule from others when they discover that going out to eat or inviting me over for dinner isn’t a simple matter like it is for most people.
I can’t begin to express how much joy it gives me to see someone else saw the worth in the message of this story. Thank you for sharing it. 💕
My reading recommendations! None of these are mine (except for my masterlist). Most of these are Loki x reader fics so I’ll only mark it if not. I apologize for many pings in advance!
It always warms my heart in the bestest of ways when one of my works makes it into a suggestion list. Thank you so much for recommending my newest work! 💕 I can’t express how much I appreciate it!
I hate how long I've been gone from writing and posting, but to explain would be a story in itself. Long short, life sucks, desire for enjoyments was gone, and I'm refinding myself and my writing. I look forward to writing more here and there until I have more time again. It's shorter than I prefer to write, but I had an hour only to spare.
This story is based from a meme I saw on TikTok that I can't seem to find again, but wrote from what I remembered with my own flare to it. Divider courtesy of @firefly-graphics. Make sure to check them out!
Pairing: Loki x f!reader
Summary: Loki comes back to the compound only to meet Spiderman. Basically, Peter being Peter and Loki's reaction to it.
Warnings: none, kinda fluffy cute
Word Count: 706
You were so happy to have Loki home, you could barely peel yourself from his side after the Bifrost had vanished. He'd been gone off world with Thor for over a month dealing with a conflict that was facing Asgard. Part of his release from life in the dungeons had been contingent on using his abilities for good, which for Odin had meant responding when summoned to fight for Asgard instead of its destruction.
A deal you weren't enthusiastic about, but that was a battle for another day.
Right now, you were enjoying just being able to hold his hand as you both walked into the compound. You knew he'd been healed already before returning home, but you could see the strain in his body language that you'd learned to read. His shoulders were more tense and tight, spine straighter than normal to hide the fatigue, his face a bit stonier than it normally would be with you around. You had a relaxing day planned for the two of you, everyone already knowing not to bother you so you could both spend time together after such a time away from one another.
You were halfway down the hall that led to your suite when a door closer to you opened and a small form came out of the room. Seeing who it was, you feared this could go badly with how tense your God of Mischief was. It wasn't uncommon for him to snap at someone when he'd come back from Asgard, which was why no one had a problem with you helping him get back into a more amiable mood.
Before you could say anything against it, the boy a few inches taller than you raced over and had his hand stuck towards your man. "You must be Mr. Loki! Hi, I'm Peter, Peter Parker. It's so nice to finally meet you, she's told me so much about you." Peter's eyes quickly indicated you before staring excitedly at the god before him. You'd already told Loki about the newest Avenger on your way inside the building so that if they came across each other, it wouldn't be a surprise. Still, you'd hoped not to have this meeting until tomorrow.
Letting go of your hand after a moment of hesitation, Loki finally shook Peter's hand. "You must be the one called Spiderman. I am Loki, of Asgard."
Peter, in his ever inquisitive nature, immediately asked, "I know you're an Avenger too, but, aren't you like... a bad guy?"
Loki, ever the smart mouthed silver-tongued Prince, didn't hesitate to respond, "It varies from moment to moment."
You gave Loki an admonishing look that you knew he saw. You could see the faint tug of his lips, knowing he wanted to smirk at your response. "So," Peter dragged out before continuing, "How much do I need to worry? Like, on a scale of one to ten, one being flicking someone's ear and ten being something horrible like killing puppies and kittens, where are you at right now?"
Loki blinked and you barely held back the giggle that wanted to let loose. You watched his posture relax ever so slightly and his voice came out with less of its formal tone. "I would say it is currently about a three."
The boy in front of you both smiled before nodding. "Cool, could you let me know if it ever gets above a six?" Looking down at the alert on his watch, Peter looked back up with a more urgent expression. "I have to go, Happy is waiting to take me over to see Aunt May. It was nice to meet you!" With that, the boy rushed away as fast as he could without all out running.
After a moment of staring at Peter as he departed, Loki turned to look at you, amusement shining in his eyes. "I like the boy of arachnids. He amuses me greatly."
A wide smile broke out across your face as you tugged him back down the hall again, ready to spoil him. "I'm glad to hear it, he's a precious bean for sure. Now let's get to our room, I have everything ready for a bath and a new book of poetry is beside the bed ready for cuddles and reading."
Summary: there is something about Bucky’s dog tags that drove both of you crazy.
A/N: SET AFTER THE SHOW THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER. I have a head cannon that Bucky ended up moving to Louisiana and buying a house close to Sarah.
Warnings: (hopefully) tooth rotting fluff, mild language, Reader described as having boobs, suggestive themes, illness, idk what I missed so read at your own advisory I guess.
There was something about them.
Those fucking dog tags.
He wore them every moment of every day: didn’t even take them off to shower or sleep.
They were just pieces of metal (although they had special value to him) so you couldn’t figure out why it drove you crazy whenever you caught a glimpse of them.
I was a good kind of crazy though. One that would make you go feral for him. You never voiced this to your beautiful lover, but he knew. Oh, he knew.
After finding out about your obsession from Sam a little birdie, he would make any excuse to show them off. In the shower, working out, cuddling? Bucky did it all. (His favorite was seeing them dangle and slap your face while he has you folded in half).
But his ultimate favorite ended up happening on a quiet Sunday morning. . .
———————————————————————
It was early. Early enough to just begin to hear the birds chirp and see the sun start to rise. Bucky unlocked your shared front door and crept inside as quietly as possible.
For the past week, he had been away on some diplomatic mission to tie up loose ends left from the Flagsmashers. His week was crammed full of press conferences, meetings, and the occasional man hunt for a left-over Smasher. And for the past week, his stress has been through the roof.
It all started when he had managed to forget his dogs tags on the bathroom counter the morning he left. For the rest of the week, an unsettling weightlessness sat on his chest and the absence of the familiar, cool metal was strange. The tags brought him comfort: it kept him grounded and reminded him of who he is. On rough days, they acted as a form of emotional support - reminding him that he is James Buchanan Barnes and not him. Without them, a strange hollowness followed him everywhere.
And to make matters worse, you ended up falling sick with something close to pneumonia the day after he left. He was helpless and couldn’t do anything more than call and pester Sarah to check on you.
So he felt empty and stressed, but now he was home and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with you.
As quietly as possible, Bucky set down his bag and toed off his mud-crusted boots, making his way to the kitchen after. He tried (keyword, tried) to quietly recreate his mom’s famous chicken noodle soup for you, but it was a bit hard when his metal arm ‘clinked’ against the pot and bowl.
Once he was satisfied with the meal he prepared, he grabbed a glass of water and made his way to your shared bedroom.
Nudging the door open, he was greeted with the sight of your sleeping form sprawled out on the bed. Setting the soup and water on the bedside table, he sat on the edge of the bed to silently admire you.
There you lay, hair a messy halo on the pillow and small snores accompanying each breath. He took note that you were wearing his old red shirt with the words “can you give me a hand?” written across it (Sam had given it to him during a visit to Wakanda when he was an armless mess). But the thing he noticed most was the harsh rasp and rattle of your lungs with each breath. A frown fell upon his face as he decided wether or not to wake you up. On one hand, he wanted you to enjoy your, seemingly peaceful, sleep; but on the other, he knew that you needed to clear your lungs before you suffocated on mucus.
The thought of you not suffocating won over and he gently shook you awake. It took a couple shakes and the quiet repetition of your name to elicit a groan from you. From there, he began to gently coax you further into awareness.
“Come on doll, I’m finally home and want to see those pretty eyes. I need you to get up, hon.” He spoke softly.
Slowly but surely, your eyes opened and you had to blink a few times to clear them. Upon seeing the beautiful face of your lover you shot up, despite the protest of your sluggish body, and threw your arms around his neck.
“I missed you so much.” Your voice was hoarse from coughing and sounded so frail.
“I missed you too, darling. I know you’re probably still tired, but how about we take a nice, warm shower together, hm? That way we can both be clean and we can loosen up that gunk in your lungs.”
You simply nodded, too tired and on the brink of falling asleep against him. He wrapped you up in his arms and carried out of bed and to the bathroom. Once inside, he set you down on the toilet and turned on the shower all the way to hot. He stripped himself bare, save for his boxers, and then began to help you.
Kneeling in front of you, he placed his hands on your waistband, a silent ask of permission. You lifted your hips just enough for him to slide your shorts off. The shirt came next. But it’s what was under it that caught him off guard.
It wasn’t the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra, no, he was used to that.
But it was the fact that you were wearing his dog tags.
His dog tags.
The ones he left behind and had felt their absence all week.
Sitting so prettily between your breasts, shining and slick with condensation.
For a minute his brain short circuited - snapping into a daze as the bathroom began to fill with hot, thick steam. But it was your voice that brought him back.
“Bucky?” The small call was followed by a series of coughs that racked your whole body.
He immediately sprang into action, rubbing your back and pushing your damp hair away from your face. Reassuring words spilled out of his mouth like a poem; guiding you through it and reminding you to try and breathe. By the time the coughing subsided and you could breathe again, your chest hurt and your lungs were so tired. Bucky could see your exhaust and it pained him to see you so tired.
“Whats on your mind?” The question caught him off guard.
“Nothing hun. Just thinking about how pretty you look wearing my tags.”
A small grin broke out on your face, “you like when I wear ‘em?”
His eyes met yours. “Honey, I absolutely fucking love it.”
A raspy chuckle escaped you. “Good. Cause I want to wear them if that’s okay with you. Especially when you’re not here. It’s like I have you right beside me no matter what.”
Bucky smiled and stood up, stripping you and himself of the remaining clothes and guiding you off the toilet and to the shower. “Doll, you can wear them whenever you want. You can wear them forever if that’s what it takes to make you always feel safe and loved,” he stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to hit him first, “but I will always be by your side. With or without those tags.”
A small smirk crept upon his face as you fully joined him in the shower.
“You don’t know the things you do to me wearing my tags. Actually, I want you to wear them every day. That way, everyone will know you’re mine.”
———————————————————————
And he kept true to his word. Everyday, he would place those tags around your neck, making sure they fell just right on your chest. More often than not it ended up with him bending you over the bathroom counter and watching in the mirror as his tags slapped against your tits. And he made sure you always had them when he was away as well. No longer had he felt anxious or empty without them for he knew that they were always beside your heart.
So, it’s safe to say, that his favorite way of seeing his dog tags, was on you.
Would you ever write a bratty or sassy reader with Steve Rogers?
I very much would, nonnie. Just need the right set up for it!
Sassy? I could be projecting because bills, but can you imagine Steve and the gang saving the day once again, only for you to come out and see your car demolished? The car you JUST paid off last month? After the worst day leading up to it?
You: "He wrecked my car!"
Your friend: "You can't really be mad, can you? It's Steve Rogers. He's a hero!"
You: "Yeah. Hero. Great. Very thankful to be alive and so fucking glad he ruin my car. I'm ALLOWED to be grateful for my life and pissed about this."
Your friend: "To be fair, your car was kind of a piece a shit."
You: "But it was MY piece of shit!"
Your friend: "Well, he's over there if you want to say 'thank you'."
You: "Hey! Steve Rogers! Yeah, you. Thanks for Mario stomping my car like it was a goomba! Appreciate you!"
Maybe Cap is just like, “My apologies, ma’am.” All sweet and total 40s gentleman before turning away and getting back to combat or whatever post combat activity they’re doing. So reader goes to the tower (because I’m mentally seeing Avengers or CW Steve in my head so he’d live) and demands to see him and is like:
Y/N: “You owe me an apology” with their hip cocked to the side, hands on it
Steve puzzled: “Excuse me?”
Y/N: You remember me? The person who owns the car you flattened thinner than a crepe? Yeah, I expect you to say sorry.
Then the dialogue would lead to Cap being firm with her and she’s confused as to why she’s suddenly excited and eventually he distracts her… in his bed… 😏
Let me preface this story by saying that I'm well aware that Ed Sheeran's song Perfect was not written or sung anywhere near the 40s. I'm taking creative liberties here. Divider courtesy of @firefly-graphics. Make sure to check them out!
Pairing: Winter Soldier Bucky x f!reader
Summary: After crashing into the ice together, you and Steve worked together as best friends and Avengers in the 21st century. The both of you, though, had left a piece of you behind in the past: his best friend and the love of your life. When you're stuck facing off against HYDRA's weapon, the Winter Solider, you discover the past may not have stayed there.
Warnings: bit of angst with HEA, violence (non-descript), fluff at the end
Word Count: 1,296
"Doll!"
The yell came from a concerned Steve, who was currently trying to make his way to you but was being held up by fighting three HYDRA soldiers at once. Yet, despite the fight happening around him, in the back of your mind, you couldn't be surprised that he still had an eye on you.
He'd made a promise to his best friend to watch over you after all.
Which he was no doubt kicking himself for not upholding as you were currently pinned underneath one of the worse HYDRA soldiers: the Winter Soldier. Both hands wrapped around your throat, you felt your air beginning to become restricted, causing a moment for your brain to flash back to an alley beside a bar in Germany about 70 years ago with a pair of blue eyes and a raspy voice in your ear whispering that he'd make sure you couldn't alert the fellow soldiers inside how good you could take him.
You were quickly pulled out of the memory, ignoring the pulsing pain in your heart, as you realized you couldn't breathe at all anymore. Despite your body reflexively trying to suck in as much oxygen as it couldn't get, you still caught the soldier off guard as you slammed your fist into the side of his head, knocking him off of you.
Rolling to the side and rising to your feet fast as you regained your breath, you felt the large, reassuring hand against your upper back. "You alright," Steve asked, concern in his voice as neither of you took your eyes off of the enemy in front of you. You confirmed you were as you watched the Winter Soldier rise to his feet, his back to you and the mask he'd been wearing at his feet where you'd caused it to come off with your hit.
Sliding a foot behind you, settling quickly into your fighting stance, ready for him to come for either of you again, you couldn't help but stare at the back of his head. Another memory flashed before your eyes, as they seemed to be doing ever since HYDRA's weapon had landed in front of the sedan you'd been traveling in. That shoulder-length hair, the same brunette color that you grabbed countless times whenever it was between your thighs.
You shook your head, dislodging the memory. You knew after this fight, you'd have a good cry session after you pounded your way through Steve's stack of punching bags. You couldn't escape reminders of your fiancé, something you'd thought you'd gotten good at handling, but then you weren't typically facing constant flashbacks like you were currently. You could usually handle a flashback here and there, now that time and therapy had allowed you to escape experiencing them daily, but nothing ever took away the pain or hollow hole in your chest that his death had left. Despite that, you'd reached a point of handling just about anything.
Nothing could've prepared you for the next few moments.
You lost all composure as the Winter Soldier turned to face you and Steve. You weren't sure if your heart stopped altogether or began beating faster than it ever has before. Your surroundings faded as all you could suddenly hear was the roaring in your ears of your own blood. Your lungs seized as if you were being deprived of oxygen all over again and you were sure your eyes were wrong.
Your eyes had to be wrong.
He was dead.
Steve stepped forward, and if you'd been able to tear your eyes away, you would've seen a level of shock on his face that mirrored your own as he quietly said, "Bucky?"
Oh, lord above. It was him. He was alive. Your eyes weren't wrong.
It was your Bucky. Your soulmate. Your fiancé.
Unexplainable joy filled your body before it was almost completely drained with the words that left his mouth.
"Who the hell is Bucky?"
The Winter Soldier, who apparently was Bucky, launched his attack, but you couldn't move. It wasn't until the sound of his metal fist, oh lord above he had a metal prosthetic and you were going to have to process the millions of scenarios that could've caused that to happen later, collided with Steve's vibranium shield that you snapped out of the shocked daze you'd been stuck in seeing the love of your life standing in front of you, looking as young and Steve and you appeared.
You were prepared this time when he came for you and you successfully blocked him. The three of you continued to be locked in combat as Bucky stayed on the offense, neither you nor Steve being able to bring yourselves to harm him. Steve stayed focused on trying to keep the both of you from getting hurt, especially once Bucky pulled out a knife, but you couldn't stop trying to get him to snap out of whatever trance had him in its grip.
No amount of pleas, begging, or reminders of his past seemed to be getting through to him. "Bucky, please, I know you're in there," you cried as you jumped between the once best friends after Bucky kicked into the side of a truck. "I know you are, come back to me." As Bucky's gaze shifted back to you, you continued, "I lost you once, I will not give you up again."
That was the first falter you saw in his behavior.
For a second, he froze. A look of confusion crossed his face and you were suddenly struck with an idea.
You put a hand up, signaling to Steve to wait, and you started to sing. "'Cause we were still kids when we fell in love, not knowing what it was. I will not give you up, this time."
In your peripheral vision, you saw Sam, who'd been fighting as well, land beside Steve. "What is she doing," he asked skeptically. His displeasure was obvious since Bucky was slowly approaching you, but Steve wasn't intervening and you were singing of all things.
Steve, catching on, said, "Just wait and see, I think she's getting through."
"But darling, just kiss me slow," you continued, "your heart is all I own, and in your eyes you're holding mine."
Bucky took his final step, standing in front of you, watching you sing with rapt attention. His eyes flickered as if recognition was dawning. Music seemed to be helping him regain control.
"Baby, I'm," you began the chorus alone, but as you continued, Bucky joined in, "dancing in the dark." Floored that he was singing back, his raspy voice low as it always was when you sang together, you were stunned silent as he continued, eyes locked on yours.
"With you between my arms. Barefoot on the grass while listening to our favorite song." You couldn't resist reaching for him anymore. Slowly, you raised your hand until it rested against his cheek. He didn't move, but his eyes shuttered closed.
"When you said you looked a mess," you rejoined, singing together just like you had decades ago before the war, "I whispered underneath my breath but you heard it. Darling, you look perfect tonight."
His eyes slowly opened and you were met with love and affection. "My Doll," he breathed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against him and clinging to you as if you'd disappear if he did. You couldn't control the sob of both loss and joy as you truly began to believe you had the love of your life again.
As you stood amongst the distraction around you, with Steve and Sam watching not far, you didn't know what the future was going to hold, what happened to your Bucky in the past, but at that moment in the present, everything was okay. And you planned to do everything to make sure this second chance at a happy future wasn't lost again.
Hey guys! First off, I hope you had a happy holidays and a great New Year!
Soo sorry for the lack of fic rec list over the last few weeks; between getting food poisoning, going to work, going on a short holiday as well as Christmas and New Year, it’s been pretty busy!
So, below the cut, please find my fic recommendations for the weeks of 12/12/2022 - 01/01/2023!
Must be 18+ to view or read this post, and to click on the links to fics below. All fics have their own warnings, so please read those. Some of these fics will have dark themes, proceed with caution if you’re sensitive to those.
You click ‘keep reading’? That means you consent to being 18 or older. You’re in charge of your own media consumption.
Most of these fanfictions are female reader, but some are gender neutral. They range from super long to super short in length, and there’s only a couple of series(since I’m not a big series reader😅).
I might add more fics as I read, but with my schedule right now it’s been hard to read much! I just wanted to post this before new year’s!
Key:
Smut😵💫
Angst🤧
Fluff🥰
Dark⛈️
If I got any of the warnings wrong, let me know. I tried to go off of what the warnings on the original fic said:) I also might’ve messed up, so PLEASE let me know if i fucked up the warnings😅
My image^
Frank Castle:
Dull dates by @untoldshortsofthefandoms 🥰
Kinktober day 17 by @foli-vora 😵💫
Lost by @mariamariquinha 🤧😵💫
Nothing fucks with my baby by @grippingbeskar 😵💫🤧
Conversations in the kitchen by @buckyhoney 😵💫
Bleeding heart by @itwasthereaminuteago 😵💫
Tease me before you please me by @amhrosina 😵💫
Look after you by @pedrito-friskito 🤧
Never the first by @marvelswh0re 😵💫
NSFW alphabet by @/amhrosina 😵💫
Rough road by @/itwasthereaminuteago 😵💫
Sedated by @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog 😵💫🤧
Lonely hearts club by @/pedrito-friskito 😵💫
Bucky Barnes:
Limitless(all parts) by @buckyalpine 😵💫🥰🤧
Bucky finds your tumblr by @/buckyalpine 😵💫
Always (series, complete)by @jadedvibes 🥰🤧
No more, please by @kilikina34512 😵💫
His new obsession by @luxeavenger 😵💫⛈️ (Do not proceed if you read the warnings and feel uncomfortable!!)
Disarmed by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky 🤧🥰
The Rumour (series, complete) by @sidepartskinnyjeans 😵💫🥰(I feel like this might also be a little angsty?)🤧
Friday (I’m in love) by @traitorjoelite 🤧
505 by @/traitorjoelite 🤧😵💫
Pink dresses & picnic blankets by @/sidepartskinnyjeans 😵💫
Time (D)rift 1 2 3 4 (series, ongoing.) by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor 😵💫🤧⛈️(Do not proceed if you read the warnings and feel uncomfortable!!)
Logan Howlett:
Broken bedframe by @loganbcrnes 😵💫
Forever winter by @luna-writes-stuff 🤧
Above the clouds by @lilac-mushroom 😵💫
Headcanon on logan helping you with your heat by @buckyownsmylife 😵💫
Run by @multific 😵💫🤧
Mine by @javier-pena 😵💫
The way back home by @hannibals-favourite-meal 😵💫
The beast inside by @luminnara 😵💫🤧
Matt Murdock:
Tease me before you please me by @/amhrosina 😵💫
Heavy in your arms by @mattmurdockspainkink 🤧
Scarred skins by @cellophaine 🤧
You still love her by @peterman-spideyparker 🤧🥰
Deep end by @babyboiboyega 🤧
Other characters:
(ignore the fact that I made a little banner for this post but then watched violent night and….David Harbour in that is making me act UP)
Come Christmas morning… by @captain-may-b-blog (violent night; Santa)😵💫
Stocking stuffer by @gothgirlmahi (violent night; Santa) 😵💫
Rules by @queenofthefaceless (stranger things; jim hopper) 😵💫
While I know I post mainly fanfics, I can’t help but want to my new puppy!
Meet Max!
Isn’t he just the cutest?! He was 8 weeks old here, but he’s 11 weeks old now. And too smart for his own good! Believe it or not, he’s an Australian Shepherd, not a Border Collie like many have asked so far.
I hope everyone enjoyed and had a wonderful Christmas! And if you don’t celebrate Christmas, I hope you had/have a wonderful holiday full of family, friends, and fun!
I’m gonna spend what’s left of mine enjoying my new games and a new book trilogy at bedtime!
A Bad Writer with an Unhealthy Marvel Obsession @kilikina34512 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
