Not really here

Here to fuel my unhealthy fictional addictions * 28 * she/her *

[pronouncingitwang]

at some point in your life you will be boiling fruit, water, sugar, and lemon juice in a pot to make a syrup or jam. the instructions will tell you to simmer for a certain amt of time. your timer will go off and you will look at the pot and go, "hm, this doesn't look thick enough. maybe i'll let it go for another 10 minutes." this is the devil speaking. it's only so liquid right now because it is at boiling point. it will thicken when it cools down. learn from the follies of my youth and do not let this happen to you

[yokowan]

at some point in your life you will be making a sauce or a stew in which you need to add cornstarch to thicken it. and you will prepare a slurry of starch in cold water and think "this looks like way too little starch to thicken this amount of liquid." this is the devil speaking. cornstarch instantly polymerizes at 95°C and if you add too much it will turn into an impossibly thick goop.

[le-jardin-inculte]

at some point in your life you will be making some sort of cream based dessert that requires gelatin to thicken it. and you will soak some gelatin sheets in water and think "this is too few gelatin sheets for this amount of cream." this is the devil speaking. it will thicken in the fridge and if you add too much you will end up with milk jelly

[shithowdy]

at some point in your life you will be baking cookies. you will take the sheet out after twelve minutes as the recipe instructs and the cookies will still be glistening and soft. "these don't seem cooked enough," you will think to yourself, "i should place them back into the oven until their edges are nice and golden." this is the devil talking. this is how you get dry, overdone cookies. the cookies will continue to bake on the warm sheet for several more minutes and then harden up after sitting on a rack for a while. trust the process. trust the process.

[blackwolfmajik]

At some point in your life, you will be baking and the recipe will ask for an amount of vanilla extract. This is the devil speaking, you measure vanilla with your heart.

[wanderingwillows]

I fear this is all true information. I cook according to the recipe, I bake with wishes and feelings

[beardedmrbean]

[theman]

I GOT A FUCKING RAISE THE POTATO WORKED WTF

[tattooedzombigirl]

This potato works. Every. Fucking. Time.

[secondlina]

Reblogging because it’s a damn potato and I want to encourage people to assume potatoes are magical.

[sinksanksockie2]

w-what if potato is actually lucky

[wanderingwillows]

We have never escaped chain emails/texts threads. I used to be able ignore them but never skip a Tumblr one 😂

[illinicoise]

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

[spn-fandom-breathing-heavily]

not even risking that shit

[codyslipring-deactivated2015060]

scrolled past this, re-evaluated my life, then SCROOOLLLED back up and hit the damn reblog button. 

[tumblgang]

She ain’t no games in real life so I take her serious all the time

Anyone with a name that starts with a “Z”, ends with an “i”, and isn’t some kind of Italian pasta, IS SERIOUS

I’m not climbing no mountain with a pig on my back, 🙅🏽🙅🏾🙅🏿 Negative.

[skuubasally]

Nope. I know better, have your reblog Madame Zeroni.

[luckytaters]

who the fuck is Madame Zeroni

[saudadesinfinitas-deactivated20]

Look at these stupid children who don’t know who Madame Zeroni is

[drayaintshit-deactivated2019030]

☝🏾😂

[callmedeku24]

Man lissen if you don’t know you better ask somebody AFTER you hit the reblog button

[damostnotdalessa]

Can’t even fucking carry my own damn baggage let alone a big ass pig

[sevinagreatergood]

Did people know about this?

I've been a fan of Lee Jordan recently with him commentating. And I was simply browsing on Pinterest about the friendship of Weasley twins and Lee Jordan. And I found this.

At this point, they're like a tumor. For the record. Remus was nowhere involved with quidditch in canon. This happens in ATYD. Same people who claim they've read the books and say "it's innocent headcanons" say this bullshit? 😭

They're dirtying great characters with shit. Ew! 🤧

Why can't they just stay away and mind their own business? If you hate canon so, don't touch canon, filthy it with fanon and then call it canon.

Remus is a spineless bitch. If anything, he would avoid quidditch in fear his pine would snap in half from a quaffle hitting him.

[thememedaddy]

[wanderingwillows]

Sent this to my bf and he said “who tf is watching you that closely to put this on your page” I showed him Tumblr and he said “fair enough”

[kairosrhys]

Which one’s your favorite? 🧚‍♀️😊 I really appreciate your thoughts—can’t wait to hear what you’ll say!

[pellucid-constellations]

The Things We Carry With Us

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You were injured on a mission and didn’t tell anyone, leaving your already rocky relationship with Bucky crumbling. Was it really hate he harbored for you, or was it something else? 

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Angst, Language, Cannon level violence, Injury

a/n: This is based on an anon request and also my submission for @multi-stann‘s 1k writing event! I used the prompt “I can’t get the image out of my head.” Congrats on 1k, Mickey!! :)

Masterlist

“Y/N, status update.” Steve’s voice was choppy as it relayed through your comm. 

You couldn’t answer him, not without giving away your position. The large wooden crates in front of you hid your body well, but they didn’t mask sound. If you were to breathe the wrong way, the ex-hydra agents a few feet ahead would book it with the intel. 

“Y/N, status.” He was firmer this time; he sounded more panicked. 

You felt bad for worrying him. Steve had always looked out for you ever since you joined the team. He told you one night over pain meds and tears that you were like a sister to him; like part of his family. The feeling was definitely mutual. 

“Are you engaged in combat?” 

You let out a steady breath and pushed the mic on your comm twice, the signal you two agreed upon. At least he would know you weren’t dead. 

“Okay, no combat. Are you injured?” Another two taps to your comm and he was speaking again. “Do you have eyes on the target?” One tap this time. 

He sent a quick ‘affirmative’ over the static and the line went dead. You gripped the gun in your palm a little tighter. Steve knew your situation, but he had no idea of your whereabouts. This was a six story building with countless empty conference rooms; the likelihood of him finding you before the three men surrounding the computer turned around were slim. 

You knew you were better than this. Before the accident, you would have had those men on the ground crying two seconds after you walked into the room. But you weren’t the same agent you were six months ago—you weren’t the same person either. Maybe that’s why Steve had checked in with you so many times since you split up to cover more ground.

Keep reading

[wanderingwillows]

Get your girl Buck

[navybrat817]

At a Crossroads

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has lunch with one of his best friends. He wants more than friendship, but is he too late or is there hope?

Word Count: Over 4.7k

Warnings: Friendship, longing, pining, idiots in love (of sorts), tension, bit of angst, thoughts of smut, nicknames, world building, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Oh, look. Another new AU, and I'm excited. We're calling this one True Love and Loyal Friends. Thanks to the @starlightcrystalline for letting me scream about this. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @societyfolklore and @soelstress, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divided by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The diner was quiet as Bucky sat in the booth, only lifting his head to occasionally glance at the door. He could’ve selected a song to play on the jukebox to fill the silence, but he liked the quiet. It gave him time to gather his thoughts without the usual demands and chatter that surrounded him. A couple of his closest men insisted on being in the diner, but he ordered that they keep a reasonable distance. They knew better than to interrupt his time with you, his best friend.

His everything.

He smiled to himself as he checked his phone and saw that you were getting closer, so close he could almost smell your sweet perfume and see your bright smile. Ava was close by too, keeping an eye out. It felt wrong having a tracker on you and people watching you, but it was for your safety. That was what he told himself time and time again since being connected to him meant danger. With the tracker and the security, he or one of his people could reach you quickly if something went wrong, if you were in trouble, or if you needed him.

He couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you. If anyone ever tried to lay a hand on you, he’d destroy them. And he'd watch with cold eyes as they turned to ash.

The bell above the door dinged, alerting Bucky of your arrival. He didn’t stand right away since he was too in awe of the way the sun rays behind you cast a soft glow around your body. Solnyshko. Seeing you for the first time was like watching the sun rise, warm, beautiful, and full of hope. And whenever you walked away, it was like the sun set, leaving him in a world of darkness and cursing the moon and stars to bring you back to him.

You spotted him easily since he was the only patron in the place and your smile made the place that much brighter. You were dressed down, but so beautiful and he couldn't help but stare as you walked over. “Hey, Jamie.”

Jamie. Not James, not Bucky, not Buck… Just Jamie. It sounded right coming from you, but not anyone else. One of his men said it in passing once after you left and he threatened to cut his tongue out if he did it again. 

“Hey, Solnyshko,” he replied, standing so he could pull you into a hug once you were close enough. You always greeted him with a hug, and he didn’t let many people touch him. He never felt fear when you were in his embrace, only acceptance and care.

As he wrapped his arms around you and breathed you in, his eyes slipped shut and he imagined dragging you to his car and taking you far away, somewhere where no one would interfere in your lives. It was easier to breathe when you were close, but there was still pain in his chest because you were so far away. Every time you had to say goodbye, he worried it was the last time 

“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?” you teased, your lips dangerously close to his skin. He had to suppress a shiver you’d no doubt feel if he didn’t stay in control.

“Never,” he whispered. You’d always be his sun, even if it was an intimate sort of nickname for a friend. Because Bucky didn't love you the way a best friend should. “Been too long since I’ve seen you.”

“You saw me two days ago,” you said. 

“Still too long,” he half teased. If he had his way he wouldn't be apart from you because you’d be sharing a bed… a home. 

“Please, tell me you didn’t rent out the diner just the two of us could have a meal together,” you said, sliding into the booth once he let you go. He hated letting you go.

“What if I told you I bought the place?” he asked, shrugging at the exasperated look on your face. “What? It’s a good investment, the food is fantastic, and I compensated the owner well.”

That wasn’t a lie. It was a good investment, and the owner had been looking to retire anyway. Bucky just sped up the timeline. And now he could come here with you when he needed an escape.

“All so we could have a quiet meal together?” You shook your head and looked over the menu in front of you. “You flatter me so, even if it is ridiculous.”

Bucky smiled to himself and sipped his water. There were clubs and upscale restaurants all around and he took you there, too, but they were all loud and messy. People around always wanted something from him. Quiet meals with you made him feel like he could truly breathe. And while he could be in his element just about anywhere, this felt better because you were there, steady, calm, and not demanding anything from him. You silenced the chaos around him. 

“Anything for my best friend,” he said, a bittersweet feeling washing over him.

You were a friend first, but loving you was one of the easiest things in the world. It felt natural, like breathing. He needed you like the day needed light. No one else could control or sway him the way you could. The terrifying thing was that it didn’t terrify him at all for someone to have that much power over him. Maybe because you weren’t the type of person to take advantage of that kind of power or him. You were too good for the world, for his world.

“I think Steve would argue that he’s your best friend.”

“You're both my best friends,” he said, except he was completely and utterly in love with you. “You excited for your upcoming show?” he asked to pull himself away from his thoughts.

You giggled, a happy twinkling sound. “Yeah, and nervous as hell,” you answered.

Photography was your passion. You wanted to capture the beauty of the world and see things in different ways. You almost always had some sort of camera on you because you didn’t know when inspiration would strike. Whenever you stopped to take a picture with Bucky around, he watched you, even when you took photos of him. He was looking into your soul, not the lens.

“Nervous? You have nothing to be nervous about because there’s no better photographer out there,” he swore. He wasn’t telling you to blow smoke up your ass. Your work was that good. 

“It’s nerve-wracking to put yourself out there,” you said. 

He understood that because he felt nervous at the thought of confessing how he felt. “It’ll be great, and I’m always right,” he added with a smile.

“You are not always right, but keep telling yourself that,” you teased, your gaze so soft that his heart skipped a beat. “Though your support is greatly appreciated.”

“I’ll always support you,” he promised. He wanted all of your dreams to come true. 

In fact, he offered to pull some strings and get you a showing in the top gallery in the city, to which you smacked his arm. You wanted your work to speak for itself, not have it shown because of his connections. He respectfully backed off, and you showed him that you didn’t need his connections at all since you worked hard and got it all on your own.

It shouldn't have surprised him. He thought you could do anything you put your mind to. Not just because you could be stubborn in the best way, but because you put your heart into everything you did. It was admirable and inspiring. 

“And you’ll be there?” you asked hopefully. 

Bucky was the first person you messaged when you got the news and you told him it would mean the world if he went. “As if I’d be anywhere else,” he told you, making you snort when he playfully rolled his eyes. If you needed or wanted him there or anywhere, he’d find a way to make it happen no matter what. 

“You better or I’ll hunt you down,” you threatened with narrowed eyes before you giggled again. 

He chuckled and leaned forward. “Wouldn't that be a sight, someone as sweet as you hunting me down?”

You crossed your arms with a huff. “You don't scare me, Barnes.”

“Don’t call me Barnes. I’m Jamie to you,” he said. He’d be your Jamie forever and always. “And I’m so fucking proud of you for getting that showing, Solnshko.”

He'd have to buy something special to congratulate you, which you deserved and more.

You bit your lip and looked in your lap with a small smile. “Thanks, Jamie,” you whispered, raising your gaze again with a larger smile. He almost wished he snapped a photo so you could see how beautiful you looked at the moment, in every moment. “Hey, do you remember when John Walker bumped into me at your birthday party?”

Bucky growled at the memory. You were getting ready to snap a photo of him and Steve together and John fucking Walker purposely bumped into you and made you drop your camera. Your eyes teared up instantly because you had bought that camera yourself and the fucker had the nerve to laugh. He would’ve seen red from the laughter alone, but your tears made him snap.

“I remember punching him very hard in the face a couple of times, threatening to cut his throat if he didn’t apologize, and I forced him to buy you a new camera,” he said. Some would call it overkill, but he called it protecting and caring for you. And while his reaction would've rightfully scared some, it didn't bother you at all. All you cared about was making sure his hand wasn't hurt from punching John.

“Except he didn’t buy me the camera. You made him give you money and then you bought the camera for me,” you said, resting your arms on the table with a knowing stare. “A much nicer one than the one I had before.”

“Yeah, I did,” he admitted unashamedly. John owed you a new camera. Bucky had taken it upon himself to buy you the camera and everything else you needed to go with it since he had no problem showering you with gifts. 

“You didn’t want me to see John again, or accept anything from him, did you?” 

Not many could read Bucky, but you could. He wondered if you could read his feelings for you or if he hid them well enough. Bucky didn’t want you accepting any sort of gift from John. “He’s a fucking asshole, so I didn’t want him close to you again,” he said honestly. John may have laughed when you dropped the camera, but Bucky saw him check you out more than once. “What made you think of that?”

“Because I used that camera for some of my photos,” you said softly, something warm just beneath the surface before you smiled. 

The beat of Bucky’s pulse doubled in time. Did you use it because he gave it to you? Did you think of him when you used it? “I’ll bet the photos you took with that camera are the best ones.”

“I guess you’ll see,” you smiled and took a quick look around. “I don’t mean to be rude, but are there any servers here?”

Bucky winced a little and shot Sam a quick text message. “That’s my fault. I said I wanted a few minutes alone, so the server is in the back with Sam.” He should’ve messaged him sooner. All you had was the water in front of you. “I think he likes her.”

“Oh, Sam’s probably working on getting her number. He’s shameless,” you fondly said.

“If he’s lucky,” he chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know how you put up with us.”

Surrounding himself with people he trusted was key in his world. Steve and Sam were good guys. His entire crew was, despite some of the things they had to do.

“Because I love you guys,” you said. 

His expression was caught between longing and sorrow. “We love you, too,” he said. Except Steve and Sam only loved you like a sister. 

The server came out before he could say more. “So sorry about that,” she said, giving you both a smile. “Have you two decided on what you want or can I give you another minute?”

Bucky hid a grin when she glanced over her shoulder. She wanted to go back to Sam. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assured her and winked at you. “Don't know why you bothered looking at the menu when I know what you're going to get.”

You smiled because it was true. “I know what you're getting, too,” you countered. Both of you knew each other's favorites. 

The server jotted down the order when Bucky gave it to her and looked between you with hearts in her eyes. “You two make a really cute couple.” 

Your mouth fell open and Bucky knew what was coming. You were going to politely correct her and say you were “just friends”, which was bullshit. So he seized the opportunity and took your hand before nodding to the server. “Thank you. I’m very lucky to have her.”

There was a flicker of sadness in your eyes, but you managed a smile for the server before you two were left alone again. His gaze lingered on you and he didn’t look away even as the sadness faded. It had him wondering if he was blind. Did you see the two of you as only friends or was there more? Did you feel it, too?

“Lucky to have me, huh?” you asked, a wistful smile on your face.

“The luckiest,” he replied. He couldn’t imagine his life without you in it “I still have your letters,” he added. He didn't know why he said it, but he had to let you know. 

You waited a beat and asked, “You do?”

He swallowed and nodded, knowing this was going into intimate territory, something stronger than friendship. “Every single one,” he said. 

You said once that you didn’t understand why people didn’t write letters anymore, why everything was done through email and text. Handwritten letters were special because they took time and care. So Bucky wrote you a letter one day and you wrote him back. The letters were one of his most cherished possessions.

He imagined confessing his feelings in a letter, but it wasn't right. It would be a face-to-face conversation when the time came because you deserved to hear the words from his lips. He wanted to sweep you off your feet and then write you something romantic. 

You blinked a few times, likely not wanting to cry in the middle of the diner. “I have yours, too.”

Bucky’s heart beat faster again. He wanted to ask you why you kept them. He wanted to see your eyes when you answered him. Was it for sentimental value or something more? 

But you didn't elaborate and he didn't ask. 

“You busy this Saturday night? Was thinking we could do a movie night,” he said. He already had your favorite snacks stocked up. He never would've thought to put Reese's Pieces or M&Ms in popcorn, but you could get him to try anything. 

You shifted in your seat. “Oh. I don’t think I can,” you said.

Bucky tried not to feel disappointed. Your life didn't revolve around him. “Why not?”

You bit your lip and looked to the side, making him pay more attention. Everyone had tells for when they were lying, nervous, etc. He learned them well in his line of work, and he learned yours since he knew you so well. You sometimes bit your lip when someone complimented you, but your head usually dipped down with a smile like you had done just a bit ago. You only looked to the side when you were avoiding someone’s gaze, like you were in trouble or scared.  You were avoiding his gaze. Why?  

“Why not?” he asked again, willing you to look at him so he could see your pretty eyes and have your attention.

You took a deep breath and faced him. “I have a date.”

The statement washed over him like a bucket of cold water and he felt a pain in his heart like someone stabbed him. He exhaled slowly and had to put his hands in his lap so you wouldn’t see them curl into fists. “You have a date?” he asked, like was speaking with glass in his throat.

You were a beautiful woman, one of the most stunningly effortlessly beautiful women he had ever seen. He wasn’t lying to himself when he told himself you were his sun because you lit up every room you walked into and made people pay attention without trying. Beyond your beauty, you had a heart of gold, giving and open. Men wanted to ruin and keep you, and he knew that because he was one of them.

“Yeah, I do,” you said.

He wasn’t quick enough to hide his scowl and your flinch let him know you spotted it. His heart sank into his stomach. So many feared him and for good reason, but he never wanted to make you flinch for any reason. “A date. You have a date,” he said as evenly as he could.

You dated here and there and so had he, but you never had anything serious. So why the bad feeling in his gut? Why did this feel like you were slipping through his fingers?

“Yeah. A friend set us up,” you said, his jaw clenching when you pulled your hand away to get your phone. He may have to have a chat with that friend. “I have a photo.”

Bucky’s expression darkened when you showed him. He was admittedly handsome, his confidence oozing from the photo. He had to tamper down the rising rage he felt inside of him because he wanted to wreck his face and tell him exactly why people called him the White Wolf- because he hunted and used a variety of tactics to take down his prey. What right did he have to do that though?

You were his in his heart, but not yet in name.

“What’s his name?” he asked curiously.

You told him without hesitation and he hummed, subtly messaging Steve so he could look into the prick. If there was dirt on him, he wanted it.

Your gaze flickered between him and your phone. “You know, he kind of looks like you if you squint.”

Bucky scoffed. He’d be damned if he was going to be usurped by a knock-off version of him. “I’m way better looking.”

You giggled and put your phone away, making him sigh in relief since he didn’t have to keep looking at the photo. “Very humble, Jamie.”

It was petty and he didn't care. “Bet he tries to rent out the restaurant thinking it'll impress you,” he muttered.

“I'm sorry, but didn't you rent out this diner?” 

“I bought the diner. There's a difference. And this isn't a date,” he said too casually. 

You sat up straight and he regretted saying that when you leveled him with a glare. “What about your fiancé? Would you buy a diner for her?”

Bucky had braced himself for the inevitable topic, but he still felt the blow in his gut and had to take a moment to keep his breathing under control. He didn’t like talking about his fiancé. Hell, he didn’t like his fiancé at all. She was a stuck-up spoiled princess, and she couldn’t stand him either. Hate fucking would never be a thing because she had another thing coming if she thought he was ever going to touch her. 

The arranged marriage was supposed to bring their families together and all it did was tear his heart apart. He got into the biggest fight with his dad when he was informed of the engagement and they still hadn’t recovered from it. Even his mom couldn't sway his dad. The poor woman was stuck between her husband and her son, but she defended Bucky when he delayed the wedding. There were only so many times he could postpone it.

“You know I don't like talking about her,” he said in a low voice.

He couldn't stand breathing the same air as her and hated saying her name. The very few times he made an appearance with her, he wanted to bash his head against the wall. He immediately went to see you after each outing to cool down. You took his mind off her, you always did. 

“I know you don't like talking about her, but…” You swallowed hard. “You're going to marry her.”

He flexed his fingers and exhaled. He would've broken the table if this conversation took place with anyone else, but not you. But over his dead fucking body was he marrying her. He was going to find a way out of this mess. He had to.

“I’d prefer if she just married the bodyguard she’s fucking and stayed out of my life,” he said completely devoid of emotion. 

Bucky wasn't an idiot and she hadn't tried to be discreet about the affair. It didn't bother him. She probably thought he was fucking you, but that hadn't happened.

Bucky thought about it. How could he not when he wanted you so badly? He imagined it so vividly— how soft your lips would feel against his, how you'd tremble under his touch, moan when you took every inch of him, cry his name when you came, beg for him to fill you up. He lost track of how many times he got off to the thought of you. It was enough to fill a lifetime of daydreams. 

He could tell you were trying to think of a response, something witty or to cheer him up, but there was pain all over your face. “I didn't mean to bring her up.”

He nodded. You weren't trying to upset him. You weren't cruel. “I know. It’s okay.”

Silence stretched between you after that, but he offered you a small smile and you reached back over to take his hand. He looked at your joined hands and all the previous anger faded away. You were the only one who could calm the beast inside. He didn't want to let you go. 

“I spoke to your dad,” you said.

His head snapped back to you. “You did? When?” he asked. 

And why?

His parents adored you, always had, and they weren't easy to impress. The fact that his dad liked you and you weren't from a powerful family spoke volumes. His mom wept after the fight he had with his dad and she admitted she would've loved to have you as a daughter-in-law. He wanted to make that happen. 

“A couple of days ago when you were in a meeting,” you said, looking at the tabletop. 

His brows pinched as he repeated the day’s events in his mind. “You mean when you were waiting for me?”

You had been at his family mansion when his meeting ended and he thought nothing of the surprise visit since you frequently surprised each other. He assumed you chatted with his mom or one of the staff while you waited, but not his dad. The man wasn't usually one for casual conversation. 

You nodded. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“I don’t think I could ever be mad at you,” he said. You two argued now and then, like a couple would, but he’d never be angry at you. “But why did you talk to my dad? What did you talk about?”

And why didn't his dad or you tell him? 

You took a breath like you were steeling yourself. “I asked if you had to marry her because I didn’t think she was the right choice for you.” You still wouldn’t look him in the eye, so you didn’t see the stunned look on his face. “I also said that if you had to marry her that there was a chance that he’d lose you as a son. Or at least, he’d lose the son he knew and loved.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped. It took a lot to surprise him and your answer would’ve put him on his ass if he hadn’t already been sitting. Not many had the balls to question his dad on anything, but there you were defending him and his choices and future. He loved you, he had for some time, and knowing you walked into the lion’s den for him made him love you all the more.

“Are you mad?” Your voice shook and he saw tears shimmering in your eyes when you lifted your gaze.

“No. Fuck no,” he whispered, going around to the other side of the booth so he could pull you close. “Not mad at you. I could never be mad at you for sticking up for me.” Some of his bravest soldiers wouldn't have had the guts to do what you did. 

“I just know you don’t want to marry her, and I thought I was helping you,” you said, leaning into him and sniffling. “Your happiness means everything to me.”

“So does yours,” he said, rubbing your back. You were trembling. “What did he say to you?”

“He called me brave, and said the only way you could get out of it was if she betrayed the families in some way,” you replied. He was shocked all over again that his dad told you that. “And affairs don’t count. I asked.”

Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if his dad encouraged him to take a mistress since he knew he couldn’t stand his fiancé. The thought made him sick because he didn’t want a mistress- He wanted you. He wanted his ring on your finger and you by his side. 

“I’m not going to marry her,” he declared. He didn’t just say it for himself, he needed you to hear it, too, in case there was any chance he had a place in your heart.

“Okay,” you said.

A single word and Bucky’s heart slowly cracked. There was no anger or sarcasm in your tone, but there was no hope either. “Do you not believe me?” he asked. 

Thought he wouldn't blame you if you didn't. Hadn't he put his dad's wishes ahead of his own for some time? But if you didn’t have faith in him, what was he to do?

“I believe you can do anything, Jamie,” you said, pulling back to look at him. A single tear slid down your cheek. “I always have.”

He wiped the tear away with his thumb, wishing he could kiss you. “Don’t go on that date,” he whispered.

“Jamie-”

“I mean it, Solnyshko. Don’t go on that date,” he said more fiercely this time.

Bucky felt like a fucking asshole. He had no right to ask that of you. He should let you live your life and give this guy a try, but he couldn’t. 

“Why not?” you asked, looking into his eyes and daring him to open his heart. “Why shouldn't I go on that date?”

Bucky raked a hand through his hair. Your parents were probably thrilled about your date if you told them since they didn't want you to be alone. And the words were there and ready, but he couldn’t tell you until he took care of breaking things off. It was the fair thing for both of you. 

“I just need you to trust me. Please,” he begged. 

You couldn’t hide your disappointment when your eyes searched his, but you nodded. “I’ll consider it,” you said.

He closed his eyes and reminded himself that you didn't owe him anything and that included your feelings. If all you wanted was his friendship he had to accept and respect that. But if there was a chance, he had to cling to that hope. 

“I’ll convince you,” he said, urging you to rest your head on his shoulder. “Somehow.”

And if he couldn’t, he’d have no problem crashing your date.

So, what do we think? Is that date happening or not? And who is he? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[jobean12-blog]

Just My Type

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Bucky can’t imagine that he’s your type

Author’s Note: Bucky’s the perfect type of guy and no one can convince me otherwise (I’m sure you all agree :) thank you all so much for reading! Much love always🩷🩷🩷Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy🥰

Warnings: some fun, flirting, lots of fluff, bob’s a great wingman🤭

“What’re thinkin’ about?”

“Huh?” Bucky drags his eyes away from you and turns toward Bob.

“You seem deep in thought. What’s on your mind?” Bob asks.

“Nothin’ really,” Bucky answers, giving him a half-hearted smile.

“Nah, come on. You can tell me,” Bob says gently.

“What do you think she sees in guys like that?” Bucky asks, his eyes once again trained on you.

Bob follows his line of sight and purses his lips. “Nothing. She doesn’t look interested at all.”

Bucky scoffs and takes a slow sip of his beer. “That guy looks interested.”

“Obviously,” Bob says. “Who wouldn’t be.”

Bucky shifts his eyes to Bob and Bob immediately holds up his hands defensively. “I’m just saying. I get it.”

The metal plates in Bucky’s arm shift and whir under the leather of his jacket and he spins the beer bottle between his fingers as he thinks. “I don’t stand a chance.”

“What was that?” Bob asks, leaning forward.

Bucky just shakes his head, sighing and slumping over his beer.

“Why don’t you just ask her?”

“Ask her what? Bucky says.

“What she sees in them? Bob shoots back. “That’s the only way to find out.”

“Yeah, well….” Bucky can’t finish his sentence because you start to head their way.

“Now’s your chance,” Bob whispers before he smiles at you.

“What are you guys up to over here?” you ask when you stop in front of Bucky.

“Nothin’,” Bucky smiles at the same time Bob starts to say, “Bucky was just wondering what you see in those guys.”

Bucky shoots Bob a death glare.

“What guys?” you ask, your eyes on Bucky.

“Like the one you were talking to by the dart game,” Bob clarifies.

“Not my type at all,” you answer.

“Told ya so,” Bob says with a light elbow in Bucky’s shoulder.

“Well not your type is headed our way,” Bucky grumbles as he straightens his shoulders.

You turn to catch the guy that was chatting you up at darts heading your way.

“He just can’t take a hint,” you say under your breath.

“Hey, there you are,” the guy says as he slides up next to you. “I thought you were getting another drink.”

“I’m going to,” you start, “but I wanted to see my…”

Before you can finish the sentence, Bob chimes in and says, “boyfriend.”

“Who? You?” the guy says, pointing to Bob.

Bob starts to shake his head no and then Bucky stands and slides his arm around your waist, tucking you against his side and saying, “no. Me.”

Bob chuckles from behind you but quickly stifles it when Bucky narrows his eyes.

“You didn’t say you had a boyfriend,” the guy frowns.

“Well. I do,” you say as you rest your head on Bucky’s chest.

“I wouldn’t have spent so much time chatting you up if I didn’t think I had a chance of getting some,” the guy scoffs.

Your mouth falls open and you feel Bucky tense next to you. Even Bob slides around front and stands at your other side.

“Now that wasn’t the right thing to say,” Bucky grits out, his tone hard.

You turn your face up to Bucky and smile. “Now do you see why I’m not interested.”

Bucky smiles back and let’s his hand slide over the curve of your hip. “Yeah doll, I think I get it.”

The guy from darts just stands there, looking between the three of you.

“That was your cue to leave,” Bucky growls. “Unless you need me to make you…”

The guy throws his hands up in surrender and backs away, quickly turning on his heel before disappearing near the bathrooms.

“He was going on and on about his big tricked out truck outside,” you say, emphasizing the words “ big and tricked out,” with sarcasm and a roll of your eyes. “Too bad he didn’t get a look at your bike.”

You grin at Bucky when you say it and see his eyes light up.

“I’ll take you for a ride anytime you want doll face.”

“I could get used to this boyfriend thing,” you murmur, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“I think he’d like that.”

If your eyes weren’t already focused on Bucky’s lips you would have sworn he said the words. But his lips never moved, and it takes you a second to remember that Bob is still standing next to you.

You whip your head Bob’s way, and he smiles brightly and nods. Your head falls into Bucky’s chest, and you start to shake with laughter.

“What?” Bob asks with his eyebrows drawn in.

Bucky’s mouth lifts into a sideways grin. “Where’s Yelena?”

Bob’s eyes scan the room, and he finds her standing by the dart game with a knife poised between her fingers.

“About to play darts with her knife,” Bob says as if it’s nothing.

“Why don’t you go play with her,” Bucky says.

“I’ll never win,” Bob retorts.

You look over at Yelena and catch her eye, subtly conveying through the unspoken girl bond that you want her to get rid of Bob for you.

She naturally gets the idea and waves at Bob, motioning for him to come join her.

“See,” Bucky says, somewhat shocked but then looking down at you and giving you a knowing smile. “She wants you to play.”

Bob smiles and says goodbye as he rushes off to join her.

“I’d kick both their asses,” Bucky says.

“Of course you would Buck,” you reply and pat his chest.

“Thanks for saving me before,” you tell him, turning in his hold and wrapping your arms around his neck.

You give him a hug and then a soft kiss near the corner of his mouth. “I would never have gone home with that guy.”

Bucky’s quiet for a moment, still savoring the feel of your lips on his skin.

“So then…what’s your type?” he asks.

“Hm. Well…,” you start. “I prefer darker features…dark hair.”

You run your fingers lightly through the hair at the back of his neck. “And I love facial hair.”

Your fingertips trace the line of his jaw, gently scratching through his scruff. “Especially when there’s these little patches of gray.”

He sucks in a small breath, his eyelashes fluttering and the tops of his cheeks turning a light pink.

“Beautiful eyes…”

You hold his stare. “Especially framed by long dark lashes I wish I had.” You follow that statement with a little laugh.

“Your eyelashes are perfect,” he whispers, and you smile.

“But the most important thing is that he has a good heart.”

You follow those words with the flat press of your palm to his chest, right over the rapid thumping of his heart.

He closes his hand around yours, squeezing lightly as he tugs you closer and dips his head.

“Anything else?” he asks.

“A good kisser would be a big plus.”

“I think I can handle that,” he says, his warm breath fanning your lips.

He releases your hand, sliding it down along your arm to your back where his fingers splay and he gently brings you closer. The first contact is just a brush of his lips over yours, the briefest sweep.

You’re already sure it’s going to be the best kiss of your life and when you hear the quietest moan escape his throat he leans in again, pressing his soft, strong mouth to yours and taking your top lip between his, sucking gently, before he turns his attention to your bottom one.

With a smile forming against the kiss, he tilts his head and slides his hand at your back higher, cupping the nape of your neck and taking you with a heat you couldn’t have predicted but makes you feel like you’re free falling backward into the clouds.

His other hand smooths over the curve of your waist and up to rest warmly on your cheek, his thumb caressing your soft skin while he kisses you senseless.

Everything is quiet before you hear cheers from the back of the bar and he slowly releases you, pressing his lips to yours softly again and again before he pulls back.

“Bucky Barnes,” you whisper as you bury your face in his neck. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Yelena and Bob continue to clap, and he takes your chin between his fingers, bringing your eyes back to his.

“Nah doll. Just hoping that kiss was good enough to snag me a date.”

“A date? After that kiss I’ll marry you.”

“Even better,” he winks before his lips meet yours again.

[wanderingwillows]

“A date? After that kiss I’ll marry you”

Same girl same

[newrider]

[wamscoastsmoker]

IT’S HALLOWEEN TIME TO GET SPOOKY

[notsocialphobixanymorelmao-deac]

I T S T H E M I D D L E O F J U N E

[wamscoastsmoker]

I T I S H A L L O W E E N T I M E T O G E T S P O O K Y

[pwhyxco]

ok who the fuck got this on my dash it’s still june

[wamscoastsmoker]

get spooky

[tshifty]

how does this appear every june

[likeimbrandnew]

T I M E T O G E T S P O O K Y

[hellscape-of-sarah-blog]

it’s june

[prinxiety-logicalitysanderssides]

T I M E T O G E T S P O O K I N G Y’ A L L

[imin-loveanon-deactivated202006]

LEE IT’S JUNE

[weirdsthenewnormal]

GAY HALLOWEEN TIME

[2am-soda-deactivated20211215]

y’all know what fuckin month it is 😎

[vivalaplutothedachshund]

IT’S HALLOWEEN IT’S SPOOKY TIME TIME TO GET

SPOOKY

[the-real-nikki19]

a writing competition i was going to participate in again this year has announced that they now allow AI generated content to be submitted

their reasoning being that "we couldn't ban it even if we wanted to, every writer already uses it anyway"

"Every writer"?

come on

[rose-of-pollux]

Reblog if you're a writer who doesn't use AI.

[wanderingwillows]

Have never, will never

[agentlilicarter]

Hogwarts Houses Pride: Breaking The Stereotypes edition #1

Hufflepunk/badass Hufflepuff moodboard

Happy Hufflepuff Pride Day! I wanted to make another atypical hufflepuff moodboard, this time mixed with badassness and punk (because Tonks is our hufflepunk queen 🙏)

2. Soft cottagecore Slytherin 3. Artist Gryffindor 4. Grunge Ravenclaw

Taglist @ashlakh , @sincerely-indi, @darkpersoncreator, @le-petite-ivy, @thebestieyoureinlovewith

[marlynnofmany]

*giant wind gust outside*

Me: “Don’t say it.”

My Brain:

[wanderingwillows]

Do you know the amount of people who apparently don’t know about this meme … a lot

[decemberwinter]

what do you mean elon musk did a nazi salute on live tv at the united states presidential inauguration twice and is now erasing the evidence off the internet by replacing the footage with the crowd cheering instead?

would be a shame if people reblogged this, wouldn’t it?

[wanderingwillows]

What the fuck 👀

[noah-wyles]

idk if it's just me but i'm glad that the majority of people outside of here believe tumblr is a dead site because like i've been here for 13 years and like this is my house??? i don't need thousands upon thousands of people flocking here it'd be like inviting chimps to a house party total fucking carnage

[commiescummie]

i said what i said

[trelleste]

Toothpaste. It's just frozen toothpaste.

[commiescummie]

[morsmordre-writes]

small talk, big love - masterlist

Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary: After seeing that your relationship is a sinking ship, you make the decision to leave him and start over. Falling for your best friend, Bucky Barnes, was not in your plans. (But of course you did)

Warning(s): unhealthy/ controlling relationship (brief), idiots being idiots

masterlist | twitter profiles

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