#short enough to be easy to reply to on mobile.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theramblinghockeydude · 3 months ago

Text

It's been a while

I have not written in a long time, my poor blog feels very neglected. I could hear it calling out to me from time to time asking, "what have I done? Why do you leave me all alone?" Simple answer is, life has gotten a bit busy for me. Why today then, why come here now and type out my thoughts and what not. I think that will become quite obvious the further you read.

Let's get the not so awesome stuff out of the way first. Mobility is still crap and getting around is not easy, the walker is a life saver that is for sure, but stairs...yeah, not so much. Mind you I don't feel like things have gotten any worse, so that is a positive for sure. I have become a silver lining kind of guy with it all and try to look at the positives and not dwell on the things that I am missing or not able to do any longer, and instead, be grateful for the things I can do, and the fact that I had a couple of people in my life who cared enough to get me out of the hole I was in and at least allow me to live a life again. That is worth it's weight in gold my friends. So yeah, I just trudge along this merry path of life with me walker :)

When I last wrote, I talked about a game site that I had joined and some people I had met there. I am still going strong on that site and have leveled up quite a bit in a short amount of time. I have made some pretty good friends as well, which is cool and I feel like I have regained my social confidence as well. I enjoy hosting parties on the site which, yeah, when I started, no way in hell would I do that LOL Surely a game site can't take up all of your time can it Shawn. Well...it can when also met somebody very special on that site who occupies a large portion of your days. Where to start with that, how about Feb. of 2024, yeah, over a year ago, which is still quite amazing to me.

Feb 2nd, 2024 I friended and message a girl on the site. Her avi name was Rhonnie28. She was part of the group I had talked about in my last post, but she was the one from the group that I noticed most. There was something about her that captured my attention right from the start. Now, before I go any further I feel I need to say this...I know that not everyone who may read this is going to understand it all, some of you may even go as far as to say it is silly and not real. Honestly, I don't care because her and I get it, we feel it, it is as real as real can be for us and what others think doesn't matter to us.

We started off messaging each other on the site, probably 2-5 times a day and we would also see each other at parties and hang out and chat. Our messages were awesome because I could tell her all of my stories and about my life, and she would actually respond with real replies. I am talking paragraphs of reply, not just a few words. She would tell me about herself and her life. We really got to know each quite well in a short amount of time. She is a fantastic conversationalist. Those that know me well, know I love cheesecake, it is my weakness in life. So, in my very first message to her, I had to ask her, "What are your thoughts on cheesecake?" She replied back with a very enthusiastic, "YUCK!!!!!!!!!" LOL I had a good laugh over that and thought to myself, well, at least she is honest, so that is good. Like I said, we got to know each quite well in a short period of time. I felt very comfortable talking to her, as if I had known her my entire life and she said likewise with her. I could, and still can, tell her anything and well, have. There isn't anything about me that she doesn't know, but I am getting a bit ahead of myself here.

8 short days after we began messaging and talking, we were hanging out and having some fun one night when she sprung this on me...she had feelings for me. Wow, really? I was a bit stunned to be honest. I mean, I knew that I liked her a lot, but until she actually said that it didn't really dawn on me, that yeah, I had feelings for her as well that went beyond just friendship type stuff. If she could have seen me, I am sure she would have seen panic in my eyes and a stunned look on my face as I had no idea how to respond to that, it was very unexpected. Once I had gathered my thoughts, I let her know that I had feelings for her as well, and yeah. So what do we do now LOL What we did was continue to message and hang out and talk each day. I am not talking for an hour or so, I am talking, the good majority of days spent talking and hanging out with other. My typing skills very much being put to the test again. Over the next few months, we our feelings continued to grow for each other. She is unlike any woman I have ever met in my life, she just, for lack of a better word, fits me, if that makes sense. It all felt to both of us like we were just meant to meet, there were so many things that had to happen in order for us to meet and they all came together great. So, we kept talking and hanging out and forming this really awesome relationship. We eventually got to the point where we told each other "I love you" and again, those that know me well know I don't just toss that phrase around. I had some very strong feelings for her and her likewise. We spent so much time together each day and talked about so much and told each other so much about our lives and our thoughts, and it all just fit so very well. I would get so excited when I would see her come online each new day and when I would get a message from her, it was quite nice to feel those things again in life, but this time it all felt a bit different, stronger if you will. Now, this next part is where I am going to lose some of you, and that is ok, you are all allowed your opinions and thoughts on things, I would only ask, that out of respect you keep any negative ones to yourself as I really don't care to hear them because I know how I feel and I know how she feels and that is really all that matters to me.

When this all first started, I thought, wow, this is perfect for me. With my mobility issues I really felt like an online relationship was awesome, didn't have to involve them in the real day to day taking care of me stuff. Let's be honest, I am not going to be able to go on walks with her, take her out anywhere on a date or things like that, so yeah, this just suited me well. The other thing that hinders a "real life" relationship is that she lives in Australia. Yes, she is 10,400 miles away from me. We talked at length about it all and were both very cool with how things would be, and we each had our reasons for it. It just worked for us and honestly, still does. In the beginning the thought of us ever meeting if that could be possible was a big, yeah nah, for me. I just didn't like the thought of her seeing me like this and not being able to do the normal things I used to be able to do. I relayed that to her as well, and she understood but also wanted me to know that if that was ever a possibility, she would not care about my mobility and such. Her thing is now and has always been...Never say never, nothing is out the realm of possibility. So the book is still open on whether her and I will ever get to meet or not and honestly, at this point in our relationship, I am totally open to it. I would love for her to be able to come here and for us to meet and have time together. I would love nothing more actually, but at the same time, I am also very happy and content with what we have now as is she. Again, getting a bit ahead of myself here. The part of the story where I may lose you is next :)

On the site we are on, people can match hearts to show they are in a relationship and coupled up. You can also get married on the site. Mind you, not a legally binding marriage by law, just something fun the site offers. Neither of us were keen on that idea early on because, for us, something like isn't a game. If we were to ever do that, it would mean something and not just be "a game" if you catch what I am saying. So we tabled that. We matched hearts and officially became a couple. Yes, to us it was all real, not just some game we were playing. We are committed to each other the same way any couple would be, just not able to be together in real life. After we matched hearts things continued on and our feelings just kept growing and growing for each other as we spent more time together and got to know each other. It was at this point we starting discussing finding a program to actually talk to each on, like really talk, hear each others voice, like on the phone. Luckily my sister has being doing so with friends for years and hooked us up with ap. So, that plan was in place, but we had one more thing to do before we officially talked...we had decided to get married. Yes, I heard that snicker as you read that, and that is ok, like I said, I don't expect everyone to get it. She very much wanted to make the day very special and as real as possible for us. Her mum had passed away in October of 2023 and it shook her world. May 12th was coming up and that would be her first Mother's Day without her mum, so she decided that instead of that being a sad day for her, she wanted to make it a happy day and suggested that we marry on that day. We did. Said vows to each other and the whole nine yards. Real vows, with real feelings attached to them. I told her that I would marry her in real life in a heart beat if that was possible and she feels the same, but unfortunately, there are just a few issues that keep that from being a reality, but what we have is real and we feel it each and every day and that is enough for me and enough for her. A few days ago we celebrated our 10 month anniversary and I can honestly say, my feelings for her are stronger now than ever, and vice versa. That is the great thing about being with her, it is a 50/50 thing. For once in my life I am not way more into the girl than the girl is into me, and that is a pretty awesome feeling. So yeah, that is where we are currently, and as I said, I don't expect everyone to "get it" but that is ok, you really don't need to because we do and we feel it and that is what matters.

I can tell you that I am the happiest I have been in a long long time, if not the happiest I have ever been. We spend the better parts of our days/nights talking and having fun together. Sharing laughter and love each and every day. She is everything that I could have ever hoped for in a partner and a bit more even. She checks all the boxes so to speak. I always used to tell people that it would take a very special person to be able to handle me and my humor, and guess what? I found her. She loves me for who I am, doesn't try to change anything about me as I don't her. She has a sense of humor that pretty closely matches mine which is awesome. I feel free with her as I can just simply be me, and she can simply be her. I have no secrets from her, nothing I haven't told her and likewise. She calms me like no other can, which is great. She has such a kind and beautiful soul. Here is a fact that will make your head spin, especially those that know me best...I can freely take and send her pictures of me and it doesn't make me anxious, I actually enjoy doing it. Yeah, I know, crazy isn't it. She is the first person other than maybe a handful of people I know, that doesn't see me as that overweight guy who really needs to lose some weight in order to be of worth to us, she simply just sees a man who loves her very much and who she loves very much and to her, I am enough, and that is a feeling I have rarely ever felt with people and it is quite awesome and amazing. She simply loves me as I am, nothing more, nothing less.

The best way I can explain the person she is...she has traits of a couple of my very favorite people that have ever walked this earth. She is a bit of my grandma Helen. She is a bit of Ruth Schmidt. She is a lot of my sister. At the core of it all, she simply loves me and cares for me and she makes me so very happy. I feel like the most blessed man alive to spend my days with her. She is simply an amazing woman.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. When I got to Fargo I was having trouble sleeping, just could not sleep a full night and it was just awful. She is 13-14 hours ahead of us in time, they don't change their clocks ever, so it varies. How do we make that work. Simple, I changed my schedule to match hers and it has been the best thing for me. I go to sleep between 8am and 9am and wake up around 3pm or 4pm, and here is the kicker, I actually sleep. No more taking forever to fall asleep, I log off and my head hits the pillow and I am out cold. It is quite awesome actually. So yeah, I am officially on Aussie time, and loving it.

So yeah, there you go, that is the past year or so of my life in a nutshell. It has been quite an awesome ride and I am looking forward to the next year and beyond. When they say time flies when you are having fun, they weren't wrong, but I am loving each and every minute of it.

I hope you are all well. Always remember to be kind to each other and check in with each other. We never know when our days are up, so live each day as full as you can, and make sure you don't put off that conversation with others, make the time now.

0 notes

ukerukokoro · 4 months ago

Text

Rules (please read before interacting)

Hey all! I go by Mhiyah and rp for 20 years meaning yes, I’m an adult.

My second blog is https://009720kakashi.tumblr.com

I do not want to interact with minors and I do not want them to follow the blog. I’m dead serious on that. No exception. It makes me uncomfortable. Please respect that.

Please note the following rules:

1. I’m not a native speaker in English. I do my best but there will be mistakes. Please be lenient.

2. No godmodding and don’t force your headcanons about my character on me. I’m very willing to adapt to the things you have created for your own character but not when it comes to my character. Also please note that if I make mistakes with your headcanons it’s not on purpose. I do my best but for many characters there are a lot of headcanons. Usually I try to check them again before replying. This is not possible if I reply on a mobile device though. Just tell me and I change the reply.

2. No pairings with minors obviously.

3. No exclusives.

4. No trigger warnings. I don’t do them. I just write with adults (as stated above) and I’m not responsible to curate other peoples internet experience. This is a public platform and naturally I won’t write gore or explicit sexual stuff on an open platform. However Shinobi are killers. People tend to forget that. So blood, wounds, fighting etc. comes with the source material.

5. No stress please. I’m a relaxed person and I do this for fun. It’s strictly character here. You won’t find me post all that much completely unrelated to the character or rp on this blog. If I do it will be deleted after a short period of time. I refuse to participate in any tumblr animosities. If people have problems with each other don’t drag me into it. I won’t take sides. I will block the person who pressures me into this stuff.

6. No hate of any kind. If I see any hate (be it homophobic, transphobic, racist or whatever) on your blog I block you immediately without any comment. I don’t want to interact with stupid hateful people. It’s as easy as that.

7. If a rp blog posts too much ooc stuff I will unfollow it. I don’t automatically follow back. I also unfollow if I get the idea that you were not all that interested in writing with me after all which is totally fine. However then it’s pretty futile to have a thread in the future. If I unfollowed you but you are in fact interested in writing with me just drop me a note. I really am here to write. I barely ever read other people's threads. So I follow who I write with or want to write with. I’m also mutuals only. The exception is of course ‘ask’ which I will reply in character.

8. I won’t necessarily reply to threads in order. That is because sometimes I need to think about some replies longer than others and thus need a moment before replying. Some threads are also longer and take more time to reply to simply due to the length of them. It has nothing to do with you, your character or your reply. I just want to give you a decent answer because that is what you deserve for taking the time and effort to write. I also might schedule replies to keep the blog active.

9. I don’t expect anyone to match the length of my replies. I sure tend to babble sometimes. However if I constantly just receive one or two sentence replies to a long paragraph I will get the feeling that you are not awfully interested in the thread and then I’ll probably drop it. It’s just no fun for me then. It’s the same if everything I write is ignored. I usually do quite some research especially when it comes to fighting scenes and the jutsus used in these scenes. Fights are very difficult to write. So if a jutsu, attack or block fails (which they should at times of course) please tell me why so I know what to do with it. Usually there is enough room for interpretation after all. Also keep in mind that with battle stuff we eventually will have to go for exits and end the thread otherwise one character ends up dead :D

10. As for Gaara I will write him at any age but will mostly go for adult Gaara. That's because I'm not 12. I also tend to divert from canon when it comes to Shukaku. So I will write him still having Shukaku. It's just more fun and I love the tanuki. Gaara is a deeply thraumatized character. The end of Shippūden makes absolutely no sense to me. I just do not see this happy go lucky behaviour for someone with such a past. So expect the regular dose of weird ass behaviour, stoicism and seriousness.

11. When it comes to relationships I do not see that for him. Gaara does not even really understand friendship and is basically just learning social interaction. It would be very very very slow if at all. My OTP for Gaara will forever be Rock Lee. I will die on that hill.

12. I'm afraid I'm very bad at plotting. Often enough it does not work out the way it was initially planned. I prefer spontaneous writing without plotting since it leaves more room for writing in my opinion. Plotting always makes me feel restricted in my reactions and at times forces me to go what I would consider ooc to adhere to the initial idea and I really don't enjoy that. Maybe I misunderstand plotting though however this is my experience so far with it more often than not.

13.I have a job.

14. Did I just steal nearly all rules from myself because I'm lazy? Yes I absolutely did.

#gaara #sabaku no gaara #naruto rp #rules

1 note · View note

your-musicguru · 7 months ago

Text

Title: Island Vibes

Summary: When you move to the Outer Banks to escape the chaos of city life, you embrace the freedom of living in your van and painting wherever the ocean breeze takes you. But you don’t expect to meet someone like JJ Maybank, who’s just as free-spirited and unpredictable as you are.

You’d never been one to live by the rules. The world was too big, too beautiful, and too full of inspiration to stay confined to any one place for too long. So when you decided to leave your old life behind and move to the Outer Banks, it was a no-brainer. The island, with its saltwater air and endless views of the sea, called to you. You parked your van at a small, secluded spot near the beach and made it your home, your mobile sanctuary. A place to paint, create, and breathe.

You didn’t care that you didn’t have a permanent roof over your head or that your life was chaotic and unpredictable. You had your art, your freedom, and the ocean—what more could you ask for?

That was, of course, until you met him.

It was a lazy afternoon when you first saw JJ Maybank. You were perched on a large rock near the edge of the water, paintbrush in hand, creating another sunset scene for your collection. The air was warm, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore was the only thing that mattered.

Suddenly, a shout broke through your concentration. “Hey, hippie!”

You looked up to see a guy with messy blond hair and an effortless grin standing a few feet away, leaning against a lifeguard tower. He wore a worn-out t-shirt and ripped shorts, his bare feet planted firmly in the sand. You raised an eyebrow, trying to get a read on him.

“Yeah, you!” he said, his grin widening. “I saw you over here, living the dream in your van. What, are you a painter or something?”

You smirked, setting your brush down. “Maybe. You’re a little nosy, aren’t you?”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Guess I’m just curious. Most people here don’t have the guts to live like you do.”

You stood up and dusted off your hands. “I like to think it’s freedom, not guts.”

His laugh was easy, and for some reason, you found it contagious. ��Fair enough. I’m JJ, by the way. JJ Maybank.” He extended a hand, and you took it, shaking it briefly.

“Y/N. Just Y/N,” you replied, eyeing him curiously. “And you’re not from around here, are you?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I’m a local. Grew up here, actually. You’re the new girl, huh?”

You nodded. “Just moved in. Figured I’d check out the island for a while. I need some space.”

JJ gave you a knowing look. “I get that. Nothing better than the sound of the ocean to clear your head.”

You nodded, appreciating the unspoken understanding between you two. “Exactly.”

“So, what’s your deal?” he asked, leaning back against the tower. “Are you, like, a full-time van dweller? No house or anything?”

You shrugged. “It’s just me and the van. Keeps things simple.”

“That’s pretty wild,” JJ mused, his gaze flicking over to your van parked nearby. “I’ve always thought about living on the road, but never had the guts to actually do it.”

“You should,” you said, smiling. “It’s not for everyone, but it’s got its perks.”

JJ nodded thoughtfully, before flashing you a grin. “Maybe you can show me sometime. I’d love to see what it’s like.”

You laughed lightly. “Yeah, sure. But only if you promise not to steal my paint supplies.”

“Deal.” JJ held up his hands in mock surrender. “No stealing, I promise.”

You both stood there for a moment, the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore filling the quiet space between you. There was something about him—something carefree and unafraid—that pulled you in. It was like meeting a kindred spirit, someone who understood the rhythm of life without needing to have all the answers.

“Well, I should probably get going,” you said after a pause, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Got some more painting to do before the light fades.”

JJ grinned again, his eyes following your every move. “Alright, well, I’ll catch you around, Y/N. You’re not hard to find. You’ll probably be out here painting again tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” you replied, giving him a playful wink. “But no promises. The island’s got a lot of secrets, you know.”

He chuckled. “I’m starting to like the sound of that.”

As you walked away, you felt his eyes on you, and for some reason, it didn’t bother you. In fact, it felt almost… comforting. Like a door had just opened to something unexpected, something exciting.

Over the next few weeks, JJ kept his promise. He’d stop by the beach at all sorts of hours, occasionally bringing snacks or drinks, sometimes just to chat or to keep you company while you painted. At first, it was a casual friendship—just two people with a shared love of freedom and the ocean—but it didn’t take long for things to change.

You found yourself looking forward to the moments when JJ would show up, his signature grin lighting up his face when he saw you. He had a way of making everything feel more alive, more spontaneous. He was unpredictable, wild, and effortlessly charming—but there was more to him than just his laid-back exterior. As much as he tried to play the role of the carefree guy, you could see the layers beneath: the pain, the struggles, the need for connection.

One afternoon, after a long day of painting, you and JJ found yourselves sitting in the sand, watching the sun sink below the horizon. The colors in the sky mirrored the ones you’d just painted on your canvas.

“Hey, Y/N,” JJ said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. “I’ve been thinking… You ever think about sticking around here longer?”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

He gave a small shrug, his eyes shifting to the horizon. “I mean, you’re always here, painting, living your own way. But you could stay. For real. I’ve got a place. You wouldn’t have to live in that van forever.”

You thought about it for a moment, the idea settling in your mind. The thought of not having to drive from place to place, to wake up in a different spot every morning, was strange. But JJ’s offer wasn’t about a house—it was about a different kind of freedom. A freedom you hadn’t considered before: one that didn’t involve running away, but simply being here, with him.

You gave him a small smile. “I don’t know, JJ. I kind of like the idea of keeping things… fluid. But maybe… maybe I’ll think about it.”

JJ’s eyes softened, and for the first time, you saw a vulnerability there that you hadn’t noticed before. “I get it. Just don’t forget—there’s more to this island than just the beach.”

You smiled again, nodding. “I won’t.”

And as the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, you both sat there in silence, the sound of the waves speaking louder than words. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers yet, but with JJ by your side, the journey felt like it was just beginning.

End

#Jimaybank beach hippie

0 notes

ashleybelmont · 9 months ago

Text

How I Met My Dads -- a short story

Disclaimer:

This short story is the original work and property of ashleybelmont.com. Any reproduction, distribution, or unauthorized use of this material is prohibited. The content is intended for entertainment purposes only and may contain themes that are mature in nature. Reader discretion is advised.

I had just come off one of the stages, topless and breathless in a dressing room chair, when a bouncer approaches me. “Two gentlemen in the back are requesting your company,” he said. I give him a warm nod and smile while, dabbing under my arms with a moist wipe.

Securing the clasp on my tiny top, I reapply my lipgloss and head back out into the club area avec mini skirt, balancing on 8-inch platform heels. The bouncer points me toward the two men seated in a booth near the back of the room.

Under the club’s moody mix of deep, sultry lights the polished appearance of the two gentlemen spoke volumes.

I greet them with a slightly intimidated, “Hello.”

The night shift pulses with high energy, a stark contrast from the more subdued rhythm of the day shift. At night, the stakes seemed much higher. I’m constantly doing my best to learn from the other, more veteran girls; how they carry themselves and work the room, chatting up the customers. I smile a little more — approaching patrons even when I feel nervous. It’s not easy, but I can feel myself getting better with each night.

There is a soft and yet dangerous edge about the two men sitting in front of me. I hoped they hadn’t summoned me to their table for some eye-rolling request. It was strange enough to have them both send for me. My heart races a little and my shyness seems hard to hide.

With their eyes locked into mine, one of them says, “Can you sit with us for a bit? No pressure. We’d just like to get to know you.”

Somewhat attuned to my hesitation, he adds, “For your time,” and slides two crisp $100 bills in front of me.

They aren’t twins, or even brothers, from what I could gather by the differences in their complexions and features. Yet, they mirrored each other in some subtle way.

They shift smoothly, making room for me at the end of the booth. I reach for the cash and secure it neatly with a soft snap into my small clutch purse.

They introduce themselves as Dom and Prince, sending tingles throughout my body as if I were right in the middle of a dream I once imagined for myself.

Dom, glances at me flirtatiously. “What?”

“It’s nice to meet you both.” I smile warmly and say.

He raises an eyebrow, seeming to expect my real name when he asks, “And, you’re…?”

“Sweety.” I reply.

“A pleasure to meet you.” He grins, clearly entertained.

I can’t shake the feeling that they know far more about me than they’re willing to confess in our very first encounter.

“So, what brings you both here tonight?” I ask, shifting my attention between them.

Dom, leans in, “Would it freak you out if we said ‘you’?”

At the same time, a call comes in to his mobile, and he politely excuses himself from the booth. Without missing a beat, Prince turns to me and asks, “Can I see you dance?”

“What kind of dance are you interested in?”

“Why don’t you tell me where you think we should we go.”

I quickly tell him his options, and he decides on one of the private rooms. Following my lead, we ascend a small set of stairs, greeted by an ATM. Out of his pocket he hands me the cash, plus a little extra, and continues with me down the hall lined with double glass doors until I spot a vacancy.

We step into the soft glow of the VIP room, plush velvet seating inviting us into a more intimate space, where everything feels quieter, even as the music throbs gently through the sound system above.

The more intimate setting lets me observe him more closely. His style of dress and posture exudes a man who values self-care. Suddenly, I feel completely intoxicated by his presence.

“You look very handsome tonight,” I confess, triggering him to blush slightly. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to make some musical adjustments.”

Soon, I glide over to him, kneel, and rest my arms on his legs. Before lighting a small joint, he asks if he’s allowed to smoke and offers me a puff.

Skeptical, I ask, “What is it?”

“Pure cannabis. I wouldn’t offer you anything else. All natural, no additives or surprises. Dom and I grow it ourselves.”

Just one hit makes me cough and I hand the joint back over to him. In timely fashion, a waitress arrives with a carafe of water and takes our drink orders.

As the waitress leaves, I settle him back into his seat and slide onto his lap. My skirt rides up just enough to reveal a neon green g-string.

“Now that it’s just us,” he murmurs, “Why don’t you decide how we enjoy our time here?”

“What do you mean?” I question, tilting my head, curious.

“I mean, you tell me…how would you like to enjoy our time together?”

“Oh — so, it’s about what I want?” I perk up, slowly slipping from his strong lap and reaching towards a side table, my fingers brushing along the hidden opening. I lift the panel, pulling from it my small stash tucked inside — a coloring book and a set of sharpened pencils.

A soft, amused laugh escapes him.

“Right on.” He says, quietly observing from above while I begin to color at his feet.

“Those are some jugs,” He comments, eyeing the large-breasted anime girl in my coloring book.

“Isn’t she cute?” I tease, glancing up with a smirk.

“You always keep this hidden in here?”

“Mhmm…I do.”

He watches quietly as I lie on my stomach, absorbed in my coloring, the hem of my micro skirt exposes a glimpse of my bottom while my bare feet swayed playfully in the air.

With the clock winding down on our session, I set the pencils aside. His gaze lingers as I crawl closer, placing my hands on his thighs. I confidently climb onto his lap again, unfasten my top from behind, and twirl my hips to the soft beat of the music. The scent of him mingles with mine, enveloping my senses.

#short stories #smut #fiction #short story #the swan club #the swan club short story #adult fiction #ya fiction #mystories

0 notes

autumnslance · 2 years ago

Text

Tumblr Cosmetic Customization Tutorial

You there! New Tumblr User with a default icon and header, no description, no custom URL, and not wanting to be mistaken for a bot--you just want to maybe figure out this weird hellsite and follow some people without being blocked, right?

Maybe you've been around for a little while, or are returning from that other hellsite, and don't know what the heck folks mean by enabling the custom URL and why are so many blogs opening on the dash instead of in a new tab?!

Let's sort this mess out below the cut with a screencap-laden tutorial, starting on mobile app (since Most new blogs start there these days, and many people use mobile more, or exclusively) and then moving to web browser for some other features that aren't available in the app (as of 1/27/23 anyway).

This is just going to be about cosmetic customization and accessing the correct blog URL and archive; Tumblr's many other settings and features for how you want to see your Dashboard and how much Privacy control you decide on are for your exploration (or another day and another tutorial, this one's long enough).

The tutorial blog itself literally took me well under 5 minutes to set up, and Tumblr guided me to customizing immediately. Taking the screenshots added a few seconds to the time; it's taken longer to write the first part of this post out. If you didn't customize the blog right away, don't fret! You can always tap the little art palette and cogwheel icons at the top of your blog to sort it out.

Now go below the link to see written instructions with image examples, including a few more with my cat:

TO BEGIN: In the mobile app, I make a new blog. For me, it's a sideblog under my main and existing sides, but otherwise this is all the same info. The following process also isn't actually all that different in web browser.

Now, you can change your URL later on if you want; a lot of folks do over time. Just be aware: changing your URL breaks any and all previous links to your blog, including any posts others have reblogged under "Read More" cuts, with the same result as if the blog was deactivated; the URL no longer exists, so Tumblr doesn't count it as "there" anymore.

Now that's out of the way, once I make a blog it immediately takes me to the Customization screen:

I can--and should!--give my blog a name and a description. Doesn't have to be long or fancy, and can always be changed later with no risk to your links.

I can tap the "Background" and "Accent" buttons to change the default colors, too. Let's go for something easy on the eyes by tapping on the colored circles to find some default options, or the wheel to grab a random custom one. I'm going to go to purple and find a nice shade there.

Next I will tap on the little default icon to choose an avatar photo. I can choose not to show it on my blog, and if I do, whether I want it to be square or circle.

I can also tap to choose a header image if I like. I'm just grabbing some images from my phone. I did have to redo the avatar as it didn't want to stay after selecting a header pic for some reason.

And then I made a quick post and pinned it, to let folks know that I am human and what the purpose of this blog is (lurking for now? A main blog for following while sideblogs get the content? In this case, a tutorial).

OK, so my cat for an icon, my copy of the fanzine I worked on as a header, a quick title and description, and a short post. Even if I post nothing else to this blog (and if it were a main blog; sideblogs can't follow others, nor send asks or replies), people will be fairly certain I am not a bot, hooray! And if I want to change anything, I can tap on the icons at the top of the blog and get back to these customization screens.

I CAN STOP HERE IF I WANT TO

...BUT WHAT IF I, or buddies, try to open my blog in a browser and it opens a dash panel? What if I (or others) want to access my Archive? Unfortunately, I cannot find the correct option in the mobile app at this point, so onto a web browser we go (on my phone or my tablet, or my computer).

I am using a generic default web browser where I don't have many extensions/plugins/addons enabled (though apparently I did set dark mode). When I tap/hover over my icon, it still shows my color option and everything I selected in app setup.

Here is where I am going to direct you to the side bar and the "Edit Appearance" button so I can point out some Very Important Things, even if you don't customize anything else ever.

When I open my blog's appearance tab, right away it's going to tell me some interesting things I have circled and pointed at on the below screenshot:

In RED I have circled my blog's URL: www.tumblr.com/lynmarstesting. This is why a blog opens in a dash panel instead of going to an actual blog. This is the new Default URL, I cannot access an Archive or other blog features like this.

The ORANGE arrow points to the feature we want, right below the "Blog name" and URL: "Custom Theme". When I swipe this feature to active, it tells me my URL is updated.

When I go to my blog, the URL in my browser shows the proper https://lynmarstesting.tumblr.com link.

And the blog looks...well, bare bones and empty, but a proper weblog page. And I (and anyone else) have access to my Archive! When, y'know, I have enough posts to make that a thing on this blog.

Now, if I or anyone else opens the blog by clicking my username or icon, it'll open a dash panel...but also show my actual @ and my proper URL link, so they can go to the blog itself that way if they want. Everyone wins!

I CAN STOP HERE IF I WANT TO;

there's no need from this point to keep messing around in a browser, we've done everything to 1) make ourselves look human and 2) make our blog properly linkable/accessible.

BUT WHAT IF...??

Once again, the little art palette icon at the top is our clicky-buddy, boxed below in orange:

This opens an "Edit Theme" sidebar panel where one can customize the blog. Each theme has different options, and Tumblr's default theme is honestly really modular; change colors, fonts, have multiple columns, add some pages (I've a whole other tutorial on that), etc.

There's also an "Advanced" pane, where you can mess with some other settings (the little ? icon on each line tells you what it does) and, if you're knowledgeable--or just bold--this is where you can add some Custom CSS.

Say the Default Tumblr Official isn't doing it, though; at the top of the Edit Theme pane it tells you your current theme, and there's a handy "Browse Themes" link.

This opens a drop down with multiple sorting options. I don't want to spend money on a premium blog theme at the moment, and the others are a mix, so let's check out the Free Themes options.

There's a lot of options here! Some new ones, some are sponsored, lots of variety. Even the "Accessible" theme I mainly use is there, in its barren glory, compared to what you can see I've made of it on browser (see that previous tutorial I linked above):

Again: Different Themes have Different Levels of Customization.

Some will let you change every color, the fonts, the frames, and so on. Some let you add links everywhere. Some barely let you touch anything. You can tap "Use" at the top to preview, and the "Advanced" pane will let you preview random pretend posts if you don't have many/any of your own to see how they'd look. If you don't like how something's turning out, just click back on "Free Themes" and look for another one.

PLEASE KEEP IN MIND READABILITY!!

When people follow links to your blog--like a Read More cut--they will see the post on your blog's theme and in your blog's colors. Even on mobile app, especially if you override the default mobile theme, your color choices will have an impact! Aesthetic is all well and good, but frames, fonts, colors, and so on, should be legible and readable to most people, especially if you mean to share a lot of text posts.

Another thing to note: Your theme will NOT appear on mobile app. It defaults to a basic setup in the app, keeping maybe only your colors. Any custom links won't show, and cosmetic site options and access are limited in a lot of ways. The site is usable on a mobile web browser, and will have those features there. I get around the app's inability to show my theme's links by adding them all to my informative Pinned Posts on each blog, but that's me.

And there you have it! How to cosmetically customize a Tumblr, in mobile app and browser, to seem like a real person and access the correct URL and features of your blog. Whether you're new or been here awhile, hopefully this helps answer some really basic questions about how and why to do some of these things.

Have a final full-sized silly Chel pic to say goodbye.

#Tumblr #Tutorial #Blogging #How To #Customization #Options #mobile app #web browser #reference #resources

193 notes · View notes

rpclefairy · 3 years ago

Text

updated tutorial on trimming posts on mobile

reply formatter mobile edition:

i’ve been trying to figure out a way to adjust the roleplay formatter to be used on mobile but unfortunately tumblr just does not render blog themes well on mobile browsers (my guess is to force people to use the app but i digress)

so i made a mobile friendly version with carrd. the only differences are the box size option and the night mode toggle, which the carrd version doesn’t have.

if you don’t use either of these you can use the carrd version on desktop as well, everything else is the same. for the purpose of this tutorial i’ll be using the carrd version as it is optimized for mobile screens.

if you can consider tipping my ko-fi or using my carrd referral code ( DPY34V1H ) to help me keep hosting the formatter ♡

this is a very easy level tutorial

even if you’re not comfortable with html!

this post may be long because of the screencaps, but the method itself is only a handful of clicks and it shouldn’t take you more than a minute.

this method technically works on any browser, but it works best on firefox as it is the only browser i’ve tested that keeps all formatting (bold, italics, color text, etc).

i encourage you to install firefox on your phone to at least cut replies, you could technically use the tumblr app to write and format your reply once you get the code of the trimmed reblog.

what you will need:

a mobile browser (can’t stress this enough i strongly suggest firefox, specially if you don’t want to have to manually add your partner’s formatting. it will make your life easier)

the mobile friendly reply formatter.

that’s it.

tutorial:

step one:

first thing you’re going to do is copy this line of text:

?redirect_to=%2Fdashboard%3Frestore%3D1&avoid_redirect=1

time saving tip! depending on your device you may have a “pin” or “lock” option in your clipboard, use it so you can keep using it without looking for this post and copying it all over again.

if your device does not have a pin / lock option, you can create shortcuts assigning a short word or symbol and when you type it the saved line of text will be suggested.

here is a tutorial for android and ios.

step two:

save the post you want to trim as a draft.

you can do this on the app.

step three:

open your draft on your mobile browser. click to edit the address bar.

the url of this post will look like this : https://www.tumblr.com/edit/USERNAME/POSTNUMBER

now delete the part with your username and one of the brackets (either the first one or the last one, it doesn’t matter which one, just don’t leave 2 brackets.

then add “?redirect_to=%2Fdashboard%3Frestore%3D1&avoid_redirect=1" (without the quotes) at the end of the link, then click on the link and load the page

thanks to this anon who figured the link trick out💗

step four:

select everything and copy

then click on the x to remove the previous reblogs.

step five:

now go to the reply formatter here, click on the paste button and you’ll get a pop window.

there tap your screen until you get the options “paste” and “paste as plain text”. use the regular “paste” option.

step six:

select the blockquote text you want to delete trimming the reply like you would on desktop with editable reblogs.

and that’s it ! you’re done.

from here you can either write and format everything on the formatter

or you can copy the html code from trimming the post and paste it on your trimmed draft on the app

ir order to do that, on step 4 add anything to the body of the post so you can save the post (it can be just a comma or a keymash)

then write + format everything on the app. just remember to switch the editor to html on the app!

bonus tip + tutorial: uploading icons

save your icons folder to your phone / google drive (and then save to your phone the icon you want to use)

on your browser (NOT THE APP) create a new post

upload your icon

switch the editor from rich text to html

copy everything, paste it in the source code of the formatter.

you’re done!

#indie rp #rp resources #rp help #dearindies #rpc #rph #roleplay resources #tutorial #rp tutorial

399 notes · View notes

wkemeup · 5 years ago

Text

Graveyard

summary: As the unofficial healer for the Avengers, you pride yourself on the ability to mend heroes with the touch of your hand. Only, your gift comes at a heavy price — one you keep secret from your friends —and when Bucky asks you to do the impossible, they’ll discover why your gift is called a sacrifice, too. pairing: bucky x healer!reader word count: 10k warnings: canon level violence

As a child, you were told it was a gift; placed upon a pedestal above the quaint suffering of a rural town and removed of your innocence for the good of strangers. You’d been made to be revered – honored – for the touch that could mend the broken.

It began with a cut upon your father’s finger – a slip of a kitchen knife that had left a small bead of blood in its wake. Curious eyes glanced up at your father as he hissed at the sting of it and you’d reach forward to place your infant hand upon the cut, a grip so mall it barely wrapped around his finger. He stilled as a soft glow began to emit from your palm. When you removed your hand and began to cry, your father was stunned to find his skin perfectly intact – no trace of a scar in its place.

They told you it was a gift, celebrated you as if you were a blessing from Heaven itself. But they were cruel in their rejoice, selfish in their praise. They had not considered your gift was not a gift at all – but a sacrifice.

Like energy, pain could not be destroyed— but it could be absorbed. It could be transferred. Your father’s cut had not simply disappeared, but instead manifested on the finger of an infant for a few short moments before it faded into your skin; laid to rest amongst a sea of foreign injuries that did not belong to you.

“Look sharp, kid! We’ve got incoming,” Banner’s voice startled you from your thoughts as he stood at the doorway to your lab. Arms folded over his chest, an amused smirk upon his face, he must have caught sight of the quinjet landing in the hanger from the windows overlooking the loading dock.

You nodded, setting down the drill beside the stun absorption pad you were engineering for Stark’s newest suit. You didn't have to wonder long who was on the latest mission and currently on their way to your office, because a familiar bickering began to carry down the hall and into the lab, forcing a smile onto your face.

For a mechanical engineer, you saw more of the Avengers post-mission than the med wing did these days. You’d been hired for your multiple PhDs and borderline genius IQ, but once you’d rushed across the room to spare Stark from a rather unpleasant laceration on his palm from an experiment gone haywire, your lab had quickly become a rotating door of injured Avengers.

Sure enough, Barnes and Wilson stumbled their way into the lab, Sam draped over Bucky’s shoulder, barely able to put any pressure on his left leg. While Sam tossed you his charismatic grin and those big, round, puppy dog eyes, Bucky favored to dispose of his partner on the lab table with an aggravated grunt.

“What do we have today?” you smirked, rolling up the sleeves of your coat as Bruce shook his head in amusement.

“Broken ankle, I think,” Sam replied, gesturing to the mess of bandages and improvised splint.

You nodded as you stepped closer, examining the injury before you brushed a hand over the swollen joint. Sam whined at the contact, the pain clearly breaking through the lighthearted grin upon his face though he tried to suppress it. His hand curled into a fist.

“You know I’m not a medical doctor, but I’d have to agree,” you nodded, planting your hands on your hips.

“You could just get the x-rays and go through PT like a normal person,” Bucky grumbled off in his corner of the room, narrowing his eyes in warning upon his partner. “She’s not here as your personal healer, Wilson.”

Bucky was always hesitant of your powers. He never said why, but you wondered most days if he was still seeking penance for the evils he’d committed under Hydra, if maybe he felt as though giving you his pain absolved him in a way he was not worthy of.

Or perhaps it was a degradation of his pride. Men often found strength in their ability to withstand pain. Though, it seemed to bother him when the others would come to you for injuries like this, too, almost as if he worried they were taking advantage of you.

He was a good man; certainly, more concerned with your consent in healing his friends than your parents and the town who spent your childhood exploiting you ever were.

“I don’t mind, Bucky,” you told him, smiling encouragingly back at him until he started to relax his shoulders and uncrossed his arms, softening under your gaze. “If it means less time on the bench and more time out there saving lives and having your back, I don’t mind at all.”

“Yeah, Barnes, who’s going to watch your back if I’m held up in a cast?” Sam teased, chuckling under his breath until Bucky stepped forward and not so subtly bumped his hip to the side of the lab table. The sudden disruption of the table moved his ankle just enough to instantly wipe the grin from Sam’s face.

“Try to relax for me, Sam,” you eased, stepping forward as you started to remove your gloves. You leaned over the edge of the table, slowly removing the splint and the bandage surrounding the swollen muscle. You handed it off to Bucky as you examined the dark purple and blue discoloration on his ankle.

He hissed as you laid your palms on his leg, clenching down on his jaw.

You closed your eyes, concentrating as you felt for the break beneath the surface. A crack splintered through the bone, the surrounding tissue swollen and aching.

A gentle glow began to emit from your palms, a warmth that spread from your hands and directly onto Sam’s skin, through the muscle, and deep into the bone. You could feel the subtle fragments as they began to mend, the swell in his joint as it shrank, the slight movements as he regained feeling.

Exhaling a tense breath, you shifted your stance onto your right leg as the pressure started to build in your ankle. It wouldn’t last long, just a few minutes in comparison to the weeks of treatment and months of physical therapy Sam would have endured – an easy trade for a man who spend his days so selflessly on the line in the service of strangers.

You could sense Bucky watching you and you were careful not to let the pain show on your face. There was a privilege in healing the Avengers like this. It gave your life meaning beyond the injuries of your hometown; of careless teenagers falling off skateboards or angry men in bars who took an argument a drink too far. You’d happily take on a few moments of pain in service of heroes.

Not that you’d let them know.

“You should be good now.” You held your hands up, the soft glow fading away from your palms as you tucked your hands into your pockets. Careful of the momentary break in your ankle, you took a cautious step away from the table to lean on the chair at your desk. No one noticed the wince in your expression as you put the slightest pressure on the fresh injury.

“I will never get tired of that.” Sam looked down at the foot in awe, rolling at the ankle and amazed to find the swelling and bruising disappeared completely. He jumped down from the table, bounding on his feet just to test out the freedom in his mobility.

“Alright, Wilson. Enough,” Bucky rolled his eyes. “You’re going to hurt yourself again and Y/n’s not going to be so generous next time.”

Sam smirked, pausing for a moment as he contemplated. “Nah, my girl will always take care of me. Won’t ya, sugar?”

It didn’t slip your notice when Bucky tensed up at the pet name. You started to laugh, the teasing smile dropping from his face as his hands curled into fists. Sam really knew how to press his buttons and it seemed, surprisingly enough, you were one of them.

“Bucky’s got a point, you know. Fancy healing powers are reserved for field injuries these days.” You were only teasing, both of them knowing you’d have healed a papercut if they’d ask. Still, Bucky smirked, taunting Sam over your shoulder as if he’d won.

You eased yourself off the chair as you started to regain feeling in your ankle, giving more pressure to the heel to find it barely noticeable. You rubbed at the joint with your right shoe to find the swelling had disappeared as well.

A few moments to spare him weeks of pain. Easy trade.

“What about you, Sergeant?”

Bucky paused, raising an eyebrow at you.

You took a step forward, glancing over him in search of injuries. Nothing more than a few cuts that his own advanced healing would take care of overnight. Still, there was one injury you’d been trying to convince him to allow you to heal in the year since you’ve known him.

“You going to let me work on your shoulder yet or are you still being a masochist?”

Sam snickered under his breath as he crossed the room to watch what Banner was doing over his shoulder. Bucky gave you that knowing smile of his, the one that pushed up into his eyes and left behind beautiful creases and lines on his face; an exhale of a laugh on his breath.

“It’s not necessary, doll. I’m fine.”

A frown tugged at your lips. “You always say that, and yet...”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Bucky shrugged. He was watching you with those sweet eyes of his, creating a warmth that spread in your chest entirely independent of the powers in your hands.

“You shouldn’t have to handle it in the first place,” you pressed, a pain in your voice as he placed a hand on your shoulder, letting it slide down your arm. It was an intimate gesture, more contact that he had with most people, and he offered it willingly. You tried not to let the shivers show in your spine as he pulled away.

It looked as though he wanted to say more, but Steve suddenly appeared in the doorway, causing Bucky to take an abrupt step away from you. You hadn’t realized how close you’d been standing to one another.

“Debrief in five,” Steve ordered, eyeing Sam and Bucky, though paused as he saw you, offering a short smile in acknowledgement before disappearing down the hall.

“I’m not letting this go, just so you’re aware,” you teased, pointing at Bucky’s shoulder as he started to wave Sam towards the door. He smiled, keeping his back to you until Sam was clear of the room and he leaned into the open frame, one quick glance back at you.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less, doll.”

***

The next month saw another broken leg, a fractured clavicle, two minor lacerations, a sprained wrist, and a number of superficial cuts – all from various members of the team. Though there was always the one exception who wouldn’t accept your offer no matter how badly he was favoring his right arm.

The clavicle was certainly a challenge to get through, but the world needed Natasha Romanoff in the field, not strung up on a gurney and a brace for a handful of months. It took longer than some of the other injuries to heal, but you’d managed, even if you had to excuse yourself to the restroom as soon as you’d finished, even if you had to shove a towel into your mouth to keep from screaming as it mended itself together under your skin.

The truth was you liked being useful. You liked the stunned smiles on their faces and the appreciation in their eyes. You liked seeing them run a hand over perfectly smooth skin where an open wound had just been. It gave you a purpose.

And sure – your work on SHIELD tech was important and perhaps not all of the injuries in your hometown had been a waste of your abilities, but there was something exceptionally gratifying in mending someone who was untouchable, in healing the people who saved the world.

You’d take a dozen broken clavicles for them.

It was late after your evening shift and you’d taken to running a few laps on the indoor track around the gym. Blow off some steam, use the state-of-the-art equipment Stark spent thousands of dollars on, give your mind something to think about beside how you were going to rewire Sam’s wings to expand in a more fluid motion.

You’d just started to break into a sweat when you noticed Bucky setting up at the row of punching bags. The gym was otherwise empty as the sky favored the stars over the sun, and you started to smile as you watched Bucky shrug off his jacket and drop the bag at his feet. He rolled back his shoulders, concentrating on the bag as he readied his fists. But as the first punch hit the bag, the smile quickly fell from your face.

It echoed up into the rafters, startling you enough to still your sprint abruptly. He let out a grunt as he pummeled at the bag; left jab, right hook, kick, until it broke at the seams and split open to spill sand in heaps upon the ground. He moved on to the next one.

You clasped a hand to your mouth, looking around the gym to confirm you were in fact alone with him. He’d been on a mission as far as you were aware for the last week. You’d missed him hanging around the lab, asking questions as you worked on new advancements on the stun guns for field agents. He must have gotten back a few hours ago and something clearly went wrong.

“Bucky?” you called, voice far too soft to be heard across the gym and above the thunderous clash of his knuckles to leather. You jogged a few paces closer, wincing as he threw the entirely of his momentum into a hit that would have broken an ordinary man’s hand. “Bucky? Are you alright?”

But he didn’t hear you. You took a cautious look back at the doors, wondering if you should go find Steve, or maybe even Sam – someone who might know what happened, someone who might be able to talk him down. But you were the only one around. You cleared your throat, stepping up just behind him.

“Bucky?”

You hit the ground before you knew what had happened.

A blinding pulsing in the back of your head, the wind momentarily knocked from your lungs, you opened your eyes to find Bucky hovering over you. He held a closed fist in the air, the other digging sharply into your shoulder between his grip, pupils blown wide and dark. It took a moment before he seemed to realize who was laying under him.

“Y/n?” He blinked, confused. His stare flickered to the fist held above your head, knuckles dripping red and bloody, and he pulled away instantly, a flash of horror written over his features. “Shit-- I didn’t... What are you doing here?”

You rubbed at the back of your head, brushing over a slight bump that would certainly mend itself within a few minutes. Slowly, you sat up, careful of the sudden darkness that swept over your eyes, though something cool grabbed onto you before you could fall back against the floor.

“Hey, come lean against the wall, okay?” Bucky urged, carefully guiding you to adjust your position until you could press your back to the chill of the plastered walls. You sighed in contentment, the pain in your pain already dissipating. Bucky swallowed nervously. “Did I hurt you?”

“I don’t stay hurt for long, Buck,” you told him with a teasing smile, though he did not return it. You set a hand on his forearm, squeezing it lightly before returning it to your lap. “I’m alright. I promise. Are you?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes.

“You were beating that punching bag within an inch of its life,” you clarified, chuckling as you gestured to the exploded bag on the floor, and then to the one still hanging with sand streaming down the seams.

“Rough mission,” was all he said, his eyes downcast.

You nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, listening to the soft buzz of the air conditioner and the faint chirp of crickets outside the windows. You didn’t expect him to say anything. Bucky was a man of few words, but you hoped the company was enough. He didn’t make an effort to move away, not even when your thigh brushed against his.

He was trying to close his fist when you heard him hiss in pain. His right hand was coated in dried blood and fresh, open wounds on his knuckles. They’d barely started to crust over and with every attempt to close his fist, they cracked open, drawing a painful sting in their place.

“Will you let me heal your hand?”

Bucky paused, setting his hand down on his leg. “Y/n, it’s not necessary. I won’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering,” you countered. “Besides, it is necessary, actually. How are you going to punch the bad guys if you can’t close your fist?”

“I’ve got another,” Bucky argued back, though a smile had etched its way onto his face. He raised his left hand, making a show of it as he curled his fingers into a fist one by one. “This one’s pretty indestructible so...”

“Please, Bucky.” You turned towards him, folding your legs as you held out your left hand for him to take. “Just this once. Let me do this.”

A stormy array of ocean blue and thunderous skies stared back at you, unsure. His eyes flickered down to your hand. Always so hesitant to ask for help, always so reluctant to accept the good things when they were offered. But as he watched you, searching for signs to run, to back out, something softened.

He swallowed and slowly, placed his right hand into yours.

You smiled, adjusting your grip gently on his hand. You placed it to lay on you knee as you hovered your left hand over his knuckles. The warm glow illuminated from your palm and Bucky’s breath hitched as he must have felt the sudden rush of energy it produced.

The scars began to mend before his eyes and just as you felt the stinging prick on your own knuckles, you quickly pushed your right hand into the pocket of your jacket to hide the scars as they formed.

“That’s incredible,” Bucky exhaled, withdrawing his hand as soon as you were finished. He held it out in front of him, examining the dried blood coated around perfectly intact skin. He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re incredible.”

A rush of heat burned in your cheeks as you looked away, a smile breaking onto your lips. It was enough to distract you from the stinging in your hand tucked away in your pocket.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” you asked, biting on your lip nervously. “Think you could do with the company and I’d like to keep you from breaking more of these expensive punching bags.”

Bucky laughed at that, nodding. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He stood and offered you his hand, thinking out loud about which one of the movies on his list he wanted to try out next. You pulled your hand from your pocket and took his as he offered it to you; the knuckles already clean and healed.

***

“You should see it, Fitz! It’s a goddamn stroke of genius.” You held up the ventilator no bigger than the pad of your thumb up to the light, admiring your work.

“I’m sure Stark will be thrilled,” a thick Scottish accent crackled through the speaker on the com beside you. “Send me the schematics, will you?”

You pursed your lips, a smile etching through. “Think you can one-up me?”

“No never,” Fitz laughed. You could hear him tinkering in his own lab on the quinjet, the small clicks of metal and the buzz of a drill humming over the speaker. “Just want to see if I’m still head of our class or not.”

“Pretty sure we both know that title belongs to Simmons.”

There was a slight pause, then, a dreamy, “yeah, you’re right.”

A sudden knocking at the edge of the lab startled you as you spun around in your chair, nearly dropping the ventilator for Stark’s suit. Bucky stood in the doorway, clutching at his left shoulder as fingers dug into the muscle. He wore a sort of guilty look upon his face though he pushed out a smile and waved.

“Hey, Fitz, I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?” you said over your shoulder to the speaker, waited a moment for his response and ended the call. You turned back to Bucky as a smile grew upon your face. “What can I do for you, Sergeant? I didn’t miss movie night, did I?”

“No, you’re in the clear,” Bucky chuckled, though it was tense. He stepped further into the lab, relaxing a little as he noticed no one else was around. It was pretty late for you to be working, but you were so close to finishing the ventilator, and well, time easily got away from you with Fitz on the other end of the phone.

“Coming to keep me company then?” you teased. “I’m actually about done anyway, so we could set up the next movie on your—”

“No, I— um...” Bucky started, losing his nerve rather quickly. He exhaled a tense breath, eyes casting down to the floor. “I was, um, wondering if you could work on my shoulder?”

You raised an eyebrow. Even after that night in the gym, Bucky was still hesitant to your offers to heal his various injuries from the field. He’d give you that sweet smile of his, a soft pink in his cheeks, and tell you that he’d be fine on his own. You never doubted that, but it didn’t mean you couldn't spare him just a few hours of that pain.

“The, um,” Bucky winced, gritting his teeth as he pushed his hand deeper against the tissue, “the nerve endings are acting up. Shuri said it’s to be, uh, expected given how Hydra butchered my arm all those years ago, but...”

“Come here.” You were already removing the files and paperwork from the table, gesturing for him to take a seat.

His whole left arm was slack at his side as if he could barely tolerate to move it. Shallow breaths hitched in his lungs as he leaned against the table, settling against the hard, metal surface.

“Can you take this off?” you asked, nodding to his shirt. Bucky’s cheeks flushed and you cleared your throat nervously, playing with the ends of your hair. “It’ll be more effective if I can touch the area directly.”

He removed his right hand from the muscle at his shoulder and gripped at the hem of his shirt. Slowly, he started to pull it over his head, though you could tell from the harsh exhale in his breath that it was causing him considerable pain.

“Here, let me help you.” You stepped forward and helped ease the fabric up his torso and gently guided it off his right arm, over his head, and eased it down his left. He seemed more at ease with the shirt removed, but a chill swept up his spine in the cool air of the lab.

You kept your eyes on his, determined not to let your gaze fall to the hardened muscles on his chest and stomach.

“I won’t be able to heal the scars,” you told him as you moved around to stand behind the table. “Just try to relax for me, okay? I’ll do what I can for the pain.”

Bucky nodded, his hands clenched into the lip of the table, enough to warp the surface. He could barely muster out a response.

“My hands are a little cold, so...” you muttered out nervously, rubbing your palms together in an effort to warm them.

Then, you set your hands against the mess of scar tissue surrounding his shoulder, starting at his shoulder blades as the glow illuminated bright enough to light up the corner of your lab. Bucky gasped, the first breath in a long time completely filling his lungs as he felt the relief within your touch. You could practically feel the tension melting off his shoulders.

It didn’t take long before the pain made its way to your body. Starting out slow, in numbing aches, until it was so sharp, it felt like a dozen edges of sharp blades puncturing into your shoulder. You clenched your jaw, held your breath, thankful that Bucky couldn’t see your face when you bit down on the inside of your cheek and tears sprung into your eyes.

“God, that... shit...” Bucky sighed, his grip releasing on the table. You could hear the smile in his voice, the relief, and it helped to push aside the pain as it manifested in your body.

You moved your hand up his back, sliding along the scars where his skin met metal, taking as much of his pain as you could. Bucky was exceptionally strong, able to withstand far more than you could without passing out completely. You couldn’t take it all, especially if you wanted to keep him from knowing how your gift truly worked, but you took enough.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, preparing yourself as you moved around to face him. There was more on his chest, by his clavicle, you couldn’t reach from behind him. You'd had years of practice, learning how to keep the pain from displaying on your face. You could get through this for him.

As you stepped in front of him, keeping a steady hold on his shoulder, you could feel his eyes watching you. The glow under your palms was bright enough to illuminate the lab, but it was a gentle light, as soft as the burn of a candle or the golden rays of a sunset. Bucky watched you with a kind of awe that made your stomach twist into knots.

You guided your hand along the scar tissue on his chest, doing your best to ignore the goosebumps as they rose in your wake. Your heart was stammering, louder than the pain radiating in your shoulder, though it lessened the more you worked. The pain had nearly left him entirely as he started to take in more even breaths, relaxing his muscles as you felt them soften under your touch.

You exhaled a tense breath through your nose, concentrating on gathering as much of the pain as you could, on mending the broken nerve endings as they misfired and frayed under the torn appendage. You barely noticed as Bucky crossed his right hand over his chest and laid his hand palm against your hands.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his fingers curling around the undersides of your hands until he gently tugged them away. The glow faded until the lab was only lit by the soft light of the lamp at your desk and the reflection of the moon peering in through the window.

You met his eye, the pain still prominent in your shoulder though you forcibly softened the clench in your jaw as he looked over you. His eyes flickered down to your lips for only a second, but it was enough. Your heart skipped.

Bucky slowly released your hands, letting them fall gently against his thighs, as he leaned forward to cup the sides of your face. Fingers tangling into your hair, you stepped closer, pressed against the table between the parting of his legs.

You wondered if he could feel how fast your heart was racing, or if he could hear it, because you were certain it was going to beat straight out of your chest. The fading pain in your shoulder you’d taken for him was nothing but a forgotten memory as he pressed his forehead to yours, just waiting.

The moment his lips touched yours, you lost your breath; fireworks and butterflies, twists in your stomach and clamoring in your heart. You could feel his smile as it spread into his cheeks, your hands seeking more of him as you slid them up the sides of his bare chest. He was beautiful and perfect and so incredibly wonderful, you’d take hours of his pain, years even, if you could keep kissing him like this.

“Hey, Y/n, I thought you were already done for the—oh, sorry!”

You jolted away from Bucky, restless and a little disheveled, Bucky’s cheeks flamed red, as you turned to find Banner standing awkwardly in the doorway. His hand was shielded over his eyes, his back quickly turned to you as papers littered the floor at his feet. You started to laugh, hand clamping over your swollen lips as you looked over at Bucky.

“It’s no worry, Bruce,” you giggled, quickly skating over to the door to help him pick up the files. Bucky meanwhile shrugged his shirt back on, fixing the flyaways in his hair.

“So sorry,” he mumbled again, clearly embarrassed by his intrusion as he glanced over at Bucky apologetically. He gathered the papers into his arms. “I’ll be going now and, um, I won’t come back, okay?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Bucky’s eyes blew wide in Banner’s quick escape.

“Still want that company?” you offered with a smile, extending your hand to him. The pain was long gone from your shoulder as he shook himself from the flush in his cheeks and nodded. He took your hand and led you down the hall to the living room. There was another movie on the list to get through.

***

You couldn’t remember the last time you were this happy. Your cheeks began to hurt from how often you were smiling, as if it were a permanent fixture on your features. You’d even caught yourself humming along to the radio as you dusted the surfaces in your lab the morning after Bucky had kissed you goodbye on the landing dock in front of at least a dozen agents.

He’d been away on a mission for the last few days, but he called when he could. You’d spend whatever spare minutes he could get on the satellite phone with him, distracting him from whatever was going on in his end of the world with talk about your latest project with Stark or old stories from the academy with Fitz or what the next movie on the list was going to be.

He wasn’t a man of many words, but you liked knowing he was on the other end of the line. You could picture his smile perfectly in your mind, the way he chewed on his lower lip, how his eyes fell downcast to the floor by your shoes, the flush of pink in his cheeks. It was enough.

“So, things are really heating up with you and Barnes,” Natasha commented as she sipped the top of her steaming coffee before it could spill over the edge. You shrugged, though it was hard to contain your smile. Natasha grinned. “I think it’s good for him. You, too. Don’t know the last time I’ve seen him this happy. He seems more relaxed. Like maybe he’s not carrying the whole world on his shoulders anymore.”

“Helps when he’s not in excruciating pain on a daily basis,” you added, tapping at your left shoulder. He’d let you work on it a few times since that first night. It always took some convincing, but the pain was never as bad as it was that evening. You could take it. You’d do it a thousand times for him without question.

Natasha nodded, a pleased look upon her face. She parted her lips to say more, but a sudden commotion at the end of the hall stole the words from her tongue. You set your coffee down on the counter, peering out around the tables to find agents jumping out of the way of an oncoming train.

“Y/n!” Bucky shouted, voice breaking in the effort as he sprinted down the hall and slammed into an unsuspecting agent. Papers flew into the air as he sprinted towards your room. “Y/n!”

“Bucky?” you called stepping out into the hallway where he could see you.

He skidded to an abrupt stop, his hair flying over his shoulder as he turned in your direction.

“Y/n! Thank God.”

It wasn't until Bucky stood in front of you that you realized he was covered in blood; soaking into his hair, caked under his finger nails, drenched into his suit, and stained to his skin. Your eyes widened, breath all but leaving your lungs, as your hands clutched against his jacket. He tried to pull you back towards the stairs, but you couldn’t budge, not with that much blood all over him.

“What-- What happened? Are you hurt?” You started seeking out exposed skin an effort to draw away any pain you could, even if you couldn’t see any exposed wounds.

Bucky's hand slid over yours, pulling it away. He softened, though you could still see the frantic rise and fall of his chest.

“It’s not my blood. It’s Steve’s.”

Your stomach sank; relief mixed into an ugly shade of guilt and grief. Natasha was already sprinting down to the med bay, coffee mug cracked and spilled upon the tile floors. Her footsteps echoed through the hallway, the sudden clanging of the double doors startling you from your daze.

“Please, I—I need you,” Bucky begged, his voice shaking. Tears were burning in his eyes. You’d never seen him this afraid; this shaken and helpless. “It’s not good, Y/n. He’s-- He’s--”

“Okay.” You pressed a hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb sweetly across his face and smeared the tears as they cleaned the dried blood away. You didn’t need to hear anymore. All you wanted was to take his pain, even if your gift couldn’t touch it as it nestled deep into his heart.

By the time you reached the med bay, a storm of chaos had already barreled through. Lab equipment was knocked over on its side. Dozens of agents frantically running around, shouting orders at one other. Papers and schematics lined the floor with imprinted of boots damaging the print. But it was the trail of blood that drew your attention.

Droplets trailing from the loading bay of the jet to down the med wing to the surgical room. Dark red and oozing. Taunting. Far too much for any ordinary man to have lost. You tried to stifle the gasp as it hitched in your breath the moment you saw him.

Steve was strung up on a gurney, suit cut down the middle and flayed open, exposing his chest and the three bullet holes expelling pints of blood. The hands of several agents were pressing down onto him, trying to keep pressure on the wounds, deep red slipping out from between their fingers. The look on their faces said enough – he wasn’t going to make it.

“Where’s Helen?” you gaped, staring at Steve.

“Ten minutes out.” Tony stumbled into the room as he rounded the corner, holding a stat phone in his hand. “She’s in the chopper.”

“He can’t wait ten minutes.” Bucky gripped tight to you hand and you could feel the tension radiating in his muscles. You wanted to take it for him but he pulled his hand before you could, turning to face you. “You’re all we have. Y/n, please. I can’t lose him.”

Bucky had never once asked you to heal someone like this. He could barely muster the will to ask you to heal his own wounds, to ease the constant stream of pain in his shoulder, and the open wounds on his hand. But with Steve’s life in the balance, he didn’t have room to be hesitant anymore. He couldn’t risk his best friend’s life.

But he didn’t know it would risk yours in the process.

You swallowed, glancing back nervously at Steve. “I’ve never healed anything this bad before, Buck. I don’t know if I can--” survive this.

Could your body heal fast enough to take on his injuries? Could you do them one by one? Would he live long enough to even try? Would either of you?

“Y/n, please. He’ll die without you,” Bucky begged, his voice wavering. Tears reflected in his eyes; gentle pale blue obstructed by a swarm of fear and guilt and desperation, a redness straining into the surrounding white until his cheeks were wet. The dried blood cleared in streaks as they traveled down to his jawline.

You watched him as he bit down onto his lip, shielding his face from the others as he waited. The frantic beeping of the monitor strapped to Steve’s chest was growing frantic, irregular, and you knew there wasn’t much time left.

The worst you’d ever attempted to heal before had been the stabbing of a stranger. You’d found her clutching stomach in an abandoned alleyway in Queens, contents of her purse spilled to the pavement, jewelry torn from her neck. You'd knelt down beside her and took her pain without so much as a second thought.

As her wound began to close, your skin split open, blood soaked into your shirt, your vision grew dark and hazy, until it was nothing at all.

The last thing you remembered of that night was the horror in the woman’s eye as she scrambled away from you and ran back to the safety of the open streets. You woke in a pool of your own blood hours later – longer than it had ever taken to heal before.

A scar remained on your stomach from that night. The only one on your body. A warning.

Test the limits of your gift again and learn why it’s called a sacrifice.

But as you looked back at Bucky, at a man who never dared to ask you for anything until it was unbearable, who wore his own scars and healed his own injuries in fear of exploiting your gift, who was impossibly gentle for the evil he was surrounded in for decades – you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no. You didn’t want to.

Bucky must have noticed the change in your expression because his shoulders softened immediately, a heavy sigh sinking through his body. He pushed forward and pressed a quick kiss to your lips; short, chaste, and still—filled with a world of emotion, of gratitude, of relief. It gave you the courage to do what needed to be done.

Tony began to shout for the room to clear the moment you approached the table. You stared down at Steve, whose skin had grown nearly translucent, the monitor above displaying his heart beat as it evened out to a nearly thin line. He was fading fast. You wouldn’t have much time.

Everything around you became muted, distorted, as you channeled your focus; the huddled whispers of the agents hovering over Steve with their hands pressed to open wounds sounded as if they were miles away.

Bucky stood at your side, watching anxiously though he tried his best to remain stoic and unaffected, though you knew he was splintering apart at the seams. Natasha and Sam were huddled in the far corner, talking quietly amongst themselves as they tried to put the pieces together as to what happened out in the field. Tony was shooing away stay agents with the threat of force, while Banner did his best to remotely disengage the power on Tony’s glove.

None of it registered. Not beyond the flow of blood coating Steve’s chest and dripping onto the floor, your shoes stepping into the pool below. It was a miracle he was still alive at all. The serum was the only thing tying him to this Earth.

You stretched out your hands, hovering over his chest and the agents quickly dispersed. You didn’t dare steal a glance in Bucky’s direction as the glow began to emit under your palms, afraid he might see the goodbye in your eyes or the apology for what he was about to witness. There wasn’t time.

The pain was sudden. Sharp. Like you’d felt the bullets rip straight through you as if you stood on the battlefield in Steve’s place. You cried out at the impact of it, nearly thrown from your stance as you clutched into Steve’s body.

Bucky jolted beside you, startled as you cried out again, desperate to choke down the screams before they passed your lips. He stared at you, wide eyed, as you clenched your jaw.

“Y/n? Are you—”

Another scream tore through you and Bucky visibly flinched. You didn’t have the energy to hide the pain from him, not with three bullets tearing through you. You had to save Steve; put the full force of your power into healing his wounds before they consumed him whole. Damn the consequences. Damn the sacrifice of your gift.

Your body was always meant to be the host of broken bones and bullet wounds and bruises. Made to be broken and mended. A host to others. A graveyard of injuries that did not belong to you.

It was what your parents had told you from the time you were a child; that you were a gift to others, that you were a vessel to better the world. But it came at a price; one, it seemed, you’d soon enough pay.

Your legs began to shake as a wave of darkness cast over your vision, tunneling, consuming the space around you. You could only vaguely make out Bucky’s voice calling your name, his tone laced confusion and concern, but you blocked it out. Daring to look in his direction now would only hinder your resolve and you needed to save Steve’s life.

Concentrating your power, a scream ripped through your lungs as the glow illuminated the entire room, enough that Bucky was forced to shield his eyes.

The wounds were taking hold on your body. One at your stomach. Another along your ribs. The third, just above your chest. Exit wounds opening on your back. You could feel the drip of blood as it slid down your skin; thick and unrelenting.

You were growing light headed as the pain started to dissipate. But the wounds were still fresh on your body, still open and bleeding; the pain shouldn’t have faded so quickly.

The steady beep of the monitor indicated that Steve was stabilizing, the flesh had nearly closed, and you barely registered Helen’s voice as she rushed into the room, ordering her team to take over.

“Hey, hey, you did it, sweetheart. You did good,” Bucky exhaled. He had the most beautiful smile on his face; filled with a sense of pride an awe, stunning and handsome beyond belief, even with traces of concern still evident in his eyes.

But you were stone. A statue. You couldn’t move without fear of collapsing completely.

“He’s stable now, Y/n,” Bucky eased, trying to pull you gently away from the table. “Come here, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

Bucky hand set against your stomach when you didn’t follow and he froze; the sticky wet residue of fresh blood on his hand. He stared down at his palm in horror as the blood began to seep through your shirt in three distinct spots, all perfectly aligning with the ones on Steve’s chest.

Bucky darted forward, pushing up your shirt to find the wounds he’d seen healed on his best friend moments ago littered over your stomach. His mouth went dry, throat lined with sandpaper, rocks shoved down into his lungs. His hand trembled as it reached out and touched the bullet wound on your ribs. His breath hitched as he felt the warmth of blood and the tear of flesh in your skin.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Is Steve alive?” Your voice was barely a whisper and you wondered if Bucky could even hear you at all. His eyes were glossed over in fresh tears, lips parted in shock as he stared back at you. You could hardly keep your eyes open.

Before he could respond, your legs gave way and you stumbled back out of Bucky’s hold. Your vision was closing in, a dark cloud of black swarming around you as your foot caught on the edge of toppled lab equipment. You were in Bucky’s arms again before you made it to the floor.

You didn’t hear him screaming for help, didn’t hear the shattering crack in his voice, or the crash of equipment behind you as Simmons raced into the room. You didn’t feel his hands as they desperately pressed onto the open wounds, or the heat of his breath as he begged you to ‘stay with me, sweetheart’. But you felt the warmth of his embrace.

It was comforting as the darkness pulled you under.

***

A heaviness draped over you. Soothing. Pressing you into the soft cushion below. A repetitive chime rang above; even in tone, consistent. It drew you back from the kind embrace of shadows, calling you toward a flicker of light.

Pressure squeezed at your hand. Cold and warm at once. Solid and soft.

You listened for the chime; allowed it to guide you as the rest of your senses awakened.

The chatter of voices in the distant too muffled to distinguish. The distinct smell sterilizing alcohol that burned in your nose. The heat of a thick blanket tucked around your legs. The chill of a breeze streaming from the humming vent above. Scratchy bed sheets and laundry fresh clothes a few sizes too big for your frame.

You groaned, trying to adjust to the influx of light as you opened your eyes. It was a room you recognized. White. Clean. Far too bright. You’d been within the walls dozens of times before, but never laid upon the bed. It was a strange view.

Glancing down, you found yourself dressed in a dark grey t-shirt that didn’t belong to you. The logo was faded on the chest but it was still recognizable. Vintage. An eagle at the center of a circle, it’s wings remarkably similar to the symbol of the Howling Commandos. Around the edge: Strategic Scientific Reserve. You’d seen Bucky wear it until the hem frayed. Sure enough, as you reached for the bottom of the shirt, you found the split seams.

A slight squeeze on your hand again drew your attention to your right. There, you found Bucky hunched over the side of the bed; both hands encasing yours, his forehead rested on the very edge of the mattress.

A smile tugged at your lips until it started to ache. Unused muscles, must be. You wondered how long you’d been out this time. Must have been longer than a few hours. Bucky’s back would need your attention after the way he’s been sleeping.

“Bucky,” you tried to call, but found your voice was nothing more than a breath of air. You winced, testing it again. “Bucky?”

He only hummed in response. The sweet vibrations nestled against your arm. It took him a minute as he lifted his head, stretched out his upper back, matted hair fallen down into his face, before he caught your eye; glancing around the room, checking the door, the heart monitor above, like it had become routine, until he realized you were watching him.

He froze, eyes wide. “Y/n?”

You nodded sleepily, pushing out a smile. “What’d I miss?”

Bucky didn’t laugh. His hands were still gripped tight to yours, squeezing at them as if he were checking to make sure you were real.

Your smile began to fall the longer he stared at you. “How long was I out? Is Steve okay?”

Bucky cleared his throat, nodding, though it seemed strained. “Y-yeah, Steve’s fine. Doc said he’d make a full recovery thanks to you.”

“That’s good,” you replied, but Bucky couldn’t so much as force a smile. He couldn’t seem to look at you, his hands playing with the lines in your palms. It was then you started to notice the dark circles under his eyes, the wrinkles in days old clothing, the hallowed look upon his face. Your stomach sank. “How long was I out?”

Bucky’s paused for a moment, his movements stilling as he traced your lifeline. He sighed, resuming again. “Six days.”

“Oh.”

A silence swept over the room. You’d never been under that long before. Frankly, you were a little surprised you woke up at all given the extent of Steve’s injuries. Your fingers dipped under the hem of Bucky’s old t-shirt and grazed over the bullet wound on your ribs, feeling for the raised edges of a fresh scar. It didn’t heal, as you suspected the others hadn’t; laid to rest next to the knife wound from the woman in the alley. Injuries you were never meant to survive.

“Were you ever going to tell us?”

You looked up, startled by Bucky’s voice as it wavered. He brushed at his eyes; red and glossy.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“No,” you admitted and Bucky’s shoulders slumped. He sank back further into his chair and you could read the disappointment on his face. You gritted your teeth, preparing to deliver the same speech you’d been telling yourself for years. “My body could handle it, Buck. It was only a few minutes of pain to trade for weeks or months of your own. It kept you in the field and off the bench. The world needs you guys. It was worth it for me. I could handle it.”

“Until you couldn’t!” Bucky snapped, startling you as he tugged his hand from your grasp and began to pace around the room. His fingers raked into his hair, gripping at unwashed strands. “You almost died, Y/n! You almost died because I fucking begged you to use your powers to save Steve and I—Jesus, Y/n — if I had known what it does to you, I never would have asked you to do that!”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you,” you replied gently, wanting nothing more than to ease him. Bucky shook his head, unwilling to accept your answer. “Bucky, if you knew that healing a papercut hurt me, you wouldn’t let me do that either.”

He paused; arms folded over his chest though he wouldn’t look at you. “No, I wouldn’t.”

You softened, sitting up in the bed, though a dull pain rushed made it rather difficult, leaving you to clutch at your stomach. It ached as you moved, an unfamiliar feeling, and the tension quickly faded from Bucky’s shoulders when he heard you whine.

You pushed through the pain in your stomach, holding up a hand as Bucky started to step forward to help you. It would fade. It always does. You’d heal and move on, until the next injury came through. It was routine. It was your life.

So, you told him as much.

“I’d do it again.”

Bucky frowned. He looked like he wanted to just lay on the bed beside you, curl up against your chest and sleep. He was exhausted. And still—he couldn’t let it go.

“You almost died—”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“A sacrifice?” Bucky’s face contorting in horror. “Are you insane? You're not a sacrifice, Y/n!”

You nodded, determined; the words of your parents, the village elders, ringing in your ears. “That what this gift is, Bucky! I can’t actually heal anyone other than myself, but I can transfer the injuries and the pain to my body. That I can heal. It’s what I was born for! It’s my purpose. I was made to be a sacrifice.”

“Not for me!” Bucky held his ground, voice firmer than you’d ever heard it. “Nothing is worth that to me! Do you understand that? I won’t trade your life for anyone’s, not even Steve’s, and I sure as hell don’t care how many bones I break or how bad the nerves in my shoulder misfire. I won’t put that on you again. The team won’t either.”

You clenched your jaw, heart starting race. No one had ever challenged you on this before. No one had ever questioned whether your gift should be used at all. No one ever seemed to care of the effect it had on your body, never thinking to look past the extraordinary abilities to the mutilation under the surface.

No one until Bucky.

You curled your hands into the thin sheets at your waist. “Bucky, don’t be ridiculous. I’m saving you all from weeks of unnecessary healing. I can handle the pain. It’s an easy trade for—”

Bucky’s fist met the wall. “You’re worth more than just a vessel for our pain, Y/n!”

“What the hell is going on in here!?” Helen Cho rushed into the room, eyes darting between Bucky standing by the corner of the room, shaking out his hand, and you as you laid in the bed at the center, the heart monitor above pulsing far too quickly.

Bucky seemed to notice the frantic beeping of the monitor and the anger quickly drained from his face.

Helen glared at him as she stepped closer to you, beginning to check your vitals. “You should leave,” she shot over her shoulder. Your stomach twisted to knots as Bucky nodded defeatedly and walked to the door.

“No, don’t--” you called, voice small, nervous. He paused in the frame, glancing back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Please, Bucky. Stay.”

Helen set a hand on your shoulder as if to ask if you were sure. You nodded.

“You may be able to heal yourself, but you’re still recovering,” Helen advised, tapping on the IV drip. “Take it easy, alright?”

Bucky remained stoic by the door after Helen left. He didn’t say anything for a while, his eyes focused on the tile floors at his feet, waiting until the heart monitor chimed in even, steady counts.

“Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous,” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. It got him to look at you, at least. While he couldn’t muster a smile, it was clear he was drained of the anger that had quickly taken hold of his body; anger that was never once reserved for you, but for the voices in your head that deemed you unworthy of more than a body to be used by others.

Bucky sank into the chair at your bedside.

“When’s the last time you slept, Buck?”

He stayed silent. It was enough of an answer. You didn’t dare ask the last time he left this room, not with the shiny reflection at his roots and the red strained in his eyes. Six days at your bedside, hunched over on a cold, unforgiving chair, clutching your hand. It ached deep into your bones.

“I mean what I said,” Bucky mumbled, slowly brining himself to meet your eye. He reached out for your hand, letting the comforting chill of solid metal lay below as the warmth of flesh and muscle laid on top. He brought your fingertips to his lips and gently kissed at your knuckles.

You sighed at the feeling. “Bucky, I...”

“You’re more important to us than your abilities,” he pressed, a sincerity behind his words and laced delicately into sweet shades of blue. “You do a lot of good to keep us safe with the tech you’ve been building and the adjustments to the suits. You’re incredible at what you do, Y/n. Your worth isn’t based on how many injuries you can heal or how much pain you can handle. We care about you. I care about you. Isn't that enough?”

You didn’t know.

You’d never known anyone to prioritize you over your gift. You parents had exploited it from the moment it was discovered your ability; showing you off, treating you as an idol to be worships and adorned. They put their child through broken bones and lacerations and asthma attacks. They sat back and watched as you healed strangers of arthritis and sprained ankles and migraines. Their child cried as they collected their winnings.

Were you afraid it would happen again? Is that why you kept it from the team? From Bucky? You’d convinced yourself it was noble to silently suffer in their place, but you started to wonder if it amounted to little more than your parent's words whispered into your ear: your ability is a gift to the world, a sacrifice unto yourself.

“Would you ask any of us to suffer in your place?” Bucky questioned, drawing you from the mess inside your head with the gentle vibration in his voice.

“I just want to help you...” you murmured, tears slipping past your cheeks.

Bucky reached forward and brushed the tears as they fell, sliding his hand against your cheek and nestling against your hair. You leaned into the touch.

“So, we find a middle ground, okay?” Bucky offered, smiling enough to push into his cheeks, though his eyes were still heavy. “No trivial injuries. No life-threatening injuries. We take the stuff in-between case by case.”

“Your shoulder,” you added, determined. Buck started to shake his head but you pressed harder. “Five minutes of pain to spare months of yours, Bucky. No lasting damage. Don’t argue with me on this one.”

It brought the smile back to Bucky’s eyes as he eventually nodded. You knew he had no real authority to decide what injuries you could and couldn’t heal, but you’d never had anyone who dared to put you first. You trusted him to do that; you trusted him more than yourself, anyway.

“We decide the rest together,” you told him. “I get the final say but... I need you to tell me if I’m pushing it too much, but I won’t be too cautious, either. No discriminating against Sam.”

“No promises,” Bucky chuckled, playing with the ends of your hair dreamily. “The other stuff I can deal with.”

“Okay,” you exhaled, relief sweeping through your body.

“Okay.”

“Think I’ll be lucky if anyone on the team even lets me touch them for a few months after this ordeal, though, huh?” You laughed and though it ached in your stomach, it was considerably less than it was moments earlier. You didn’t mind the dull pain. It was familiar, almost a comfort. Steve was alive because of it.

“Yeah, can’t say anyone was thrilled to find out how your powers actually worked,” Bucky chuckled. “But they’re happy you’re alright. I’m sure Steve will be, too. He was pissed when he woke up and learned what you did.”

You clenched your jaw. “Never good to be on Cap’s bad side...”

“No, it’s not,” Bucky agreed, wide smile pressed to the back of your hand, his lips touching over exposed skin. “He doesn’t like when anyone else pulls a self-sacrificial move. It’s kinda his thing. Diving into the Atlantic and all. We don’t really need two of you running around...”

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, swatting Bucky away. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, the pain in your stomach long forgotten, or maybe it had finally healed. You supposed it didn’t matter.

They were scars that would never heal. Like the knife wound. Like mesh of hardened tissue around Bucky’s shoulder, stretching out onto his chest and back. Reminders of when you were too both close to the edge, to the brink of darkness. Reasons to push back towards the light.

read the sequel here!

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader

11K notes · View notes

dootiexcupcake · 2 years ago

Text

Test Your Might !

Pairing: Sunoo x fem!reader [shao kahn player!Sunoo x Jade player!reader💀]

tags: gamer!sunoo, gamer!reader, fluff, first meetings, bullet point fic, mortal kombat players, two nerds in loveeee, bad attempts at flirting cuz i'm corny

Warnings: reader is a bit dumb when it comes to online safety but for the most part, none (let me know if i am perhaps missing something tho!)

A/N: i think it is extremely important to state that i have never played a single game of MK in my life💀💀💀. I just like reading/watching cutscene movies of the lore, gameplay, and characters. So if smth is wrong...thats why loool.

TL;DR OP is using this as a way to mix her two hyperfixiations into one thing

• you're a Jade main who, although is not considered a "professional gamer", can handle yourself pretty well in an online match

• after going thru several players and mopping the floor with them you match up with a Shao Kahn player

• username: "handsome_starr"

• "cheesy" you cant help but chuckle at the name and assume this to be a easy fight against someone who isn't above the age of 10

• as soon as the round starts you're immediately backed into a corner by a barrage of combo attacks from the other player

• suddenly straightening up in your seat your grip on the controller gets tighter as your health gets lower and lower with each brutal attack of the heavy weights hammer

• you finally got yourself grounded enough to land a few critical hits to him but it wasn't enough to save you. and before you know it, you hear those familiar words

• "finish her!"

• you feel your nose twitch in irritation as the player throws in a taunt at the end of the 1st round

• "How disappointing." Shao Kahn wags a finger in front of him as the 2nd round begins

• usually you would roll your eyes at the use of the taunt, but with this particular player...

• you welcome the challenge

• the second round begins and once again "handsome_starr" releases a flurry of attacks that leaves you in the corner completly at his mercy

• dont get it wrong, you have played as shao kahn before. you know his combos, fatalities, general move set, etc. you're no stranger to the character.

• but the way this player managed to move this heavy character around so swiftly was something you couldn't wrap your head around

• thankfully you've wised up by now, so you dodge Jade out of the way before Shao Kahn lands a devastating blow with his war hammer

• the match ends with "starr" getting the victory, much to your dismay

• naturally, you rematch with the player and you two go at it for way longer than you both realize

• after the 3rd or 4th rematch you get a notification at the top left corner of your TV screen

• "handsome_starr sent you a friend request"

• you exit out of the game momentarily and accept the pending request

• as soon as the action goes through you receive a message from your new friend

• "gg"

• short, sweet, and to the point. nice

• "u 2" you reply

• "I like ur play style w/ Jade. its cool !"

• your mouth curled up into a smirk, pride swelling up in your chest at the compliment. you decided to return the favor to him and give him some very much needed credit as well

• "thx. ur rly rly good w/ shao k."

• time once again slips past you two as you talk over the system chatroom for what seems like mere minuets. But when you glance at the display clock on screen it shows that a few hours have passed

• how you both managed to type for such a long time using game controllers is beyond anyone

• this quickly becomes a thing between you guys

• you power on your console, play some games, get a notif from starr asking to play MK11, then go back and forth in the mobile chatroom (you learned from last time)

• you also learned that starr isnt just an amazing shao kahn player but he's an even better spawn player too

• one day while the two of you are chatting after a particularly good match (you decimated him in all 3 matches. props to you being a quick learner and spotting his patterns) starr ask a question you weren't quite expecting

• "socials?"

• you stared at the screen for a second as you realized what starr meant by that. why did you never think of this before?

• you thought about every middle school online safety video you were shown as a kid

• well...starr doesn't seem like a murderer who will stalk you so..

• "ya, heres my ig:"

•was it stupid to give your personal social media account to someone you've only known for a few months? yeah

• was it even more stupid if you also didn't even know the guys first name?...yeh

• but you didn't get much time to think through all the logic behind your reasonings as you accepted his follow request

• you were absolutely baffled as you saw pictures of who you assume is starr

• how is it possible that this is the same person who mains such brash and gruesome characters? starr looks so...much different than you imagined

• to be honest, you weren't exactly sure what to expect

• but the first thing that came to your mind when you imagined a shao kahn and spawn player was definitely not the cute and seemingly innocent face of the male smiling in these photos displayed in front of you

• it was a good different though!

• a very good different...

• starr sends you a dm through instagram while you were looking through his page

• "ur name is y/n?"

• "ya thats me" you mentally facepalm when you realize you didn't even check to find his real name.

• you look at his profile again and read his bio

• "kim sunoo?"

• "yup thats me ^^ " comes the reply from the other end

• starr..well, sunoo always used little emojis at the end of his sentences when you guys would speak but, you're not sure why it comes off as so cute this time around..

• you shake the thought off as soon as it comes, 'really? falling for the guy as soon as you see a picture of him? you're better than that y/n!' you mentally scold yourself as you try to get your senses together

• sunoo send a picture of you in chat, which confused you but also brung on a small pang of anxiety.

• "this is you??"

• you swallowed down harshly and replied back with confirmation

• "woah..ur rly pretty :o "

• you wanted to throw your phone out of your window and never talk to sunoo ever again

• you felt your whole body heat up at the unexpected compliment and hid your goofy smile from no one in your empty room

• "thx. ur not too bad yourself haha"

• "oh thanks, that means a lot coming from you ~"

• huh, you give a guy your ig page and he suddenly takes a flirty 180

• "dude ur cute ! dont even try it lol"

• "haha 😅"

• sunoo sends another picture of you in chat, but luckily your heart doesnt beat as nervously this time around

• "woa! you cosplay!?"

• ah, how could you forget about that post

• you were at a convention posing dramatically as one of your favorite characters

• "lol yeah i dont do it *all* the time but since i was attending that con i decided to go all out, ya know?"

• "wow! as if you couldn't get any cuter.."

• you huffed out a laugh through your nose and shook your head at his message

• "heh, ur down bad sunoo"

• of course you were too. but sunoo did NOT need to know that...

main m.list | enha m.list

#kim sunoo x reader #sunoo x reader #kim sunoo x y/n #kim sunoo x you #kim sunoo fluff #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha headcanons #enhypen sunoo x reader #enhypen sunoo fluff #enhypen sunoo imagines #gamer!reader #gamer!sunoo

27 notes · View notes

brokebonewritings · 3 years ago

Note

Eddie Munson y/n one shot smut … but w/ my name ofc 😈

Crying yes, anything for you bestie!! Also this is somewhat self indulgent cause this scenario was in my dream two weeks ago. Just… with Oscar Issac…

Enjoy!

God Only Knows

Warnings/Tags: 18+, Smut, Ask request

Word Count: 2.4K

Requested by: @kaidalorian

Navigation || Masterlist

You had been late to come home before, but never this late. The rustling noises you were making on the side of your family’s short little trailer could have woken a whole neighborhood. Luckily your mom was a heavy sleeper, which made sneaking back in very easy.

The noise however caught the ear of another person sneaking in late. Though his Uncle may not consider it sneaking in, since he allowed him to come home later.

Curious of the added noise in the neighborhood, Eddie started walking in the direction of the noise. Once he saw the commotion happening in front of him he decided to speak.

“What are you doing out here so late?” He spoke softly, trying not to startle you. Obviously failing once you screamed and turned around.

“Shh! You scared me half to death!” You whispered. This made Eddie chuckle lightly.

“Seems to me I am being more quiet out of the two of us.” He looked at the boxes you were setting up to climb through the window. “Are you sure that’s stable enough?”

“One can only hope this will hold me up to get through the window…” You turned to him and smiled. “Sorry I snapped at you, you just made me jump.”

“Nothing to worry about, just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He smiled.

“Well that was very kind of you.” After nodding at him, you turned back to the box project that was happening in front of you.

He stood there for a moment. Not really sure if he should help or offer another solution. So that’s what he decides to do.

“That doesn’t seem entirely safe… Do you maybe want to spend the night at my place?” He stutters a bit but it finally comes out. You take a moment to think about the pros and cons of climbing through the window.

“Yeah you’re probably right, I’ll go with you.” To Eddie this reply was the best thing he has gotten all night. He was a little intoxicated, yes, but he knew he had to protect you from accidentally hurting themselves.

Picking up your bag, you turn and follow Eddie back to his trailer. It was a rundown little park but the mobile homes were cozy enough to call home.

Once you both made it back to his home, you quietly stepped in being careful not to wake his Uncle up and sneak into his room.

You knew Eddie for a long time, since Kindergarten, and he is a good person to confide in. You were more on the acquaintance side of things but when the two of you got together it was a really good time.

Eddie shut the door behind you and walked over to his cassette player.

“What are we feeling? Bowie? Van Halen? Metallica?”

You take a seat on his bed and look up at him. You take a moment to think about the choices presented.

“I’m feeling Bowie tonight, they were playing him at the party I was at.” You reply. He only offered what he knew you liked. He was thoughtful like that.

He slipped the cassette tape into the player and turned up the volume. For the next two hour, the both of you laughed and talked about things from your childhood. It was nice to reminisce.

Once you were tired and ready to go to sleep, Eddie set up a spot on his floor for you to sleep on. It wasn’t the most comfortable option but it would have to do for the 3 hours of sleep you would get.

The music was still playing when you woke up from their small nap. It wasn’t loud but it seemed like it was playing on a loop. And holy hell was it freezing.

Sure the covers did warm everything up a tiny bit, but not cozy like your own blankets. Then an innocent thought popped into your head.

Sitting up you looked over at Eddie who seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Slowly your stood and climbed into bed with him. You got comfortable for a few moments and then realized something was off. Seriously off.

It felt almost bare. You lifted the covers just enough to see that Eddie was in fact sleeping without any pants on. Your face began to turn red as you turned over not to look at him.

That’s when you felt two arms come around you and pull you closer to the body next to you.

“What are you doing in my bed?” You heard him say.

“I-It got cold on the floor”

“And you thought it would be a good idea to come into an innocent High Schooler’s bed?”

You wiggled out of his arms and turned over.

“Eddie we are the exact same age so don’t start with that crap” This made him laugh, and in return made you laugh.

Once the laughing stopped, you both stared at each other. And just for a brief moment all you both could hear was David Bowie serenading the moment like some cupid with it’s arrows.

‘God only knows what I’d be without you’

It was a bit awkward, but there was more tension than anything.

“So you know… you’re the first person who has been in my bed.” He said lowly

“Is that so? But have you been with other people?” You asked, just out of curiosity.

He thought for a minute, and when he saw your face fall he smiled.

“Of course not, You think someone like me can score a goal like that?”

“I think you could, but that’s only up to you to do.” You look into Eddie’s eyes almost to give him the hint of want.

He definitely caught onto what you were saying. Almost in an instant, You were pulled in as Eddie crashed both of your lips together. To say you were startled would be an understatement, however you had wanted this for so long that you didn't worry about the sudden movement from Eddie.

It felt beautiful how he pressed against you. You had never felt such ecstasy before. The kiss was becoming deeper and more passionate. You could feel Eddie moving against them, grinding against your thigh.

You could hear his breath become more raspy as he grinds harder.

“Fuck,” he gasped loudly. “Kai you’re so fucking hot, holy shit.”

This made you mewl loudly against him. You were too out of breath to come up with actual words. In the same moment, Eddie hoisted the both of you up so that You were now sitting on his lap.

“Eddie, please be gentle.” You whined in his ear. He ran his hands down your thigh before slapping it. Your scream made Eddie smirk. He loved hearing the sound of pleasure and surprise.

“You’re fucked. You made a big mistake sneaking into this bed, baby.” His aggression shocked you. Youhad never seen this side of him, and yet it was a huge turn on.

The loudness of both of you moaning amplified in the small room. There was no way that his Uncle was still asleep during all of this.

As you both got more aggressive with each other, Eddie grabbed the collar of your shirt and ripped it off. You were too invested in marking his neck than what he was doing to their clothes.

Once you were stripped down to your underwear, Eddie threw you back on the bed.

“Flip over on your stomach. Ass up.” He demanded.

“Wh-what?” You didn't quite understand what was happening. This made Eddie lean very close to your ear to whisper.

“I said, Turn the fuck over and put your ass up in the air.” His demeanor from earlier has changed, but so has yours. You loved that this was a side of him you had never seen before.

After doing what he said, he began to graze his fingers along your back. This went on until he decided to play with the soaked panties you were wearing.

"How are you this fucking wet already?" He questioned. You didn't have the answer for him though.

He began to rub against the wetness. You could feel his metal rings through the thin fabric. The closer to your clit he got, the louder you began to moan.

“Ugh fuck, your pussy is dripping for me.” He moaned loudly. “I bet you need to be cleaned out before I fuck your brains out.”

“Please, Eddie, Please.” You chanted over and over again. That is all he needed to move the fabric aside and delve his tongue in between your legs.

He worked his way to your clit, enjoying every inch and fold he could get his tongue into. You could hear him moaning through every slurp. It sounded absolutely obscene.

He edged you to the absolute limit. Each time, stopping and waiting a minute before diving right back in. The screams coming from you were breathtaking to Eddie. He loved knowing he was the cause of all this undoing.

He pulled back after the 3rd time of edging you. Sticking two fingers into you, he began to feel and stretch and scissor you. This made you moan louder than before, giving him the cue that you were ready.

Eddie pulled down the edge of your panties. The sight before him made him tear up a bit.

“You have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen in my life.” He whistled. “Too bad I'm about to ruin you.”

With that, he grabbed your waist and began to push himself into you. It stung a bit, but he was moving slow enough to make sure you were getting used to his large cock.

“I feel like you’re gonna tear me in half, Eddie.” Your comment made him stop dead in his tracks. Resulting in a loud grunt from you as well.

“Am I hurting you?” He looked concerned. “We can stop if I’m being too rough.”

“Mm, No please keep going.” You moaned. “You’re just so big and I need to adjust.”

Eddie needed that reassurance. Once he got it, he began to push the rest of himself into your tight entrance. This earned a moan from both you and him. You could feel his balls pressed up against your clit and god did it feel so good.

He gave you a moment to adjust to his size before pulling back out and thrusting into you. You had no idea why but the position you were in made you feel so full.

“Fuck Sweetheart.” He moaned loudly. “Your pussy is so fucking tight.”

His hands wrapped around your waist as he picked up his pace. Your moans began filling the room once again. After this the whole trailer park would know that Eddie Munson had been the luckiest man in the world.

“Eddie, Eddie, I’m so close.” You screamed. His pace was brutal against your clit. It felt so good, the way his balls slapped against you.

“No. You’re not allowed.” He demanded. This made you whine. He was denying you the one thing you wanted most at the moment.

“Please, please, please. Let me, Eddie, please” You were practically crying.

“I said no.” He stopped mid thrust. His hand trailing up to your throat and brought you closer to him. “When I tell you no. I mean no. Do you understand?”

You whined which resulted in him tightening his grip around your neck.

“I said, ’Do you understand?’” He growled into your ear.

“Yes, Eddie, Yes I understand!” You cried

“Say ‘Yes Daddy.’” He smirked knowing you probably never would do it. And it did shock you at first since it was like him to be this aggressive. What the hell.

“Yes Daddy, I understand.” You mewled. You knew this would really get him going. Boy were you so right.

He lets go of your neck and pulls out of you fully. This made you whine from the sudden emptiness. However, he made one swift movement and you were laying on your back looking up at him.

“Hi..” You say shyly.

“Hi baby.” He smiles down at you and cups your cheek. He leans down and kisses you sweetly. This is what true passion felt like. His hand caressed your cheek then trailed its way back to your neck.

You loved the way his hand felt there. The coldness of his rings and the grip around your neck. It made you more wet than before.

“Alright enough of the softness.” He moaned as he pushed himself back inside of you. You both groan loudly as he picks up from where you last left off.

The both of you were grunting and moaning. It sounded like one of those pornos he made you watch while hanging out.

“My own personal pornstar is lying right in front of me. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He asked

“Yes Daddy. All for you.” You moaned loudly.

This drove Eddie to his limit. He grunted as he fucked you deeper and faster. You could tell he was about to come based on his cock was pulsating inside of you.

“Don’t pull out.” You said, not really thinking.

“What?! What did you just say?” He growled. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“Don’t. Pull. Out.” You scream. This really pushed him over the edge because in just a few short moments you both were driven to your climax.

He chanted your name as he began to come. In return you were also chanting his. You could feel him still inside of you cumming once you had finished.

Once he was finished, he pulled out of you and laid by your side. Wrapping his arms around you, he brought you in closer. This certainly wasn’t on the agenda but it was a very nice surprise.

You don’t really remember falling asleep, but once you opened your eyes you could tell it was morning. When you sat up, you saw Eddie sitting across from you playing his guitar.

“Good Morning, Sleeping Beauty.” He said as he plucked at the strings. “How are you feeling?”

“My back hurts.” You stated. “But I feel good.”

He smiled as he set his guitar down. Getting up and walking back over to the bed, he sat down. You both stared at each other for a moment before breaking into the biggest smile.

“We had been holding that sexual tension in for so long huh?” You asked.

“Longer than we probably realized.” He stated.

“I love you, Eddie Munson.”

“I love you too, Kai.”

#ask box #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things #one shot #smut #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #fic request #my asks

48 notes · View notes

009720kakashi · 2 years ago

Text

Rules

Hey all! I go by Mhiyah and rp for 15 + years meaning yes, I’m an adult :D and so is the character.

I do not want to interact with minors and I do not want them to follow the blog. I’m dead serious on that. No exception. It makes me uncomfortable. Please respect that.

Please note the following rules:

1. I’m not a native speaker in English. I actually do have an online dictionary open constantly :D. I do my best but there will be mistakes. Please be lenient.

2. No pairings with minors obviously.

3. No exclusives.

4. No stress please. I’m a relaxed person and I do this for fun. It’s strictly character here. You won’t find me post all that much completely unrelated to the character or rp on this blog. If I do it will be deleted after a short period of time. I refuse to participate in any tumblr animosities. If people have problems with each other don’t drag me into it. I won’t take sides. I will block the person who pressures me into this stuff.

5. No hate of any kind. If I see any hate (be it homophobic, transphobic, racist or whatever) on your blog I block you immediately without any comment. I don’t want to interact with stupid hateful people. It’s as easy as that.

6. If a rp blog posts too much ooc stuff I will unfollow it. Also I don’t automatically follow back.

7. I won’t necessarily reply to threads in order. That is because sometimes I need to think about it a moment before replying. It has nothing to do with you, your character or your reply. I just want to give you a decent answer because that is what you deserve for taking the time and effort to write.

8. I don’t expect anyone to match the length of my replies. I sure tend to babble sometimes. However if I constantly just receive one or two sentence replies to a long paragraph I will get the feeling that you are not awfully interested in the thread and then I’ll probably drop it. It’s just no fun for me then. It’s the same if everything I write is ignored. I usually do quite some research especially when it comes to fighting scenes and the jutsus used in these scenes. Fights are very difficult to write. So if a jutsu, attack or block fails (which they should at times of course) please tell me why so I know what to do with it. Usually there is enough room for interpretation after all. Also keep in mind that with battle stuff we eventually will have to go for exits and end the thread otherwise one character ends up dead :D

9. Relationships: Yeah well, that’s a difficult issue. I do not see Kakashi enter into a relationship. He sure has sex but definitely has issues committing to someone. He does not easily open up. Someone would have to be very understanding and persistent I suppose. Never say never though. As for sexual relationships. I think he does have those but no strings attached.

10. I also tend to write him a bit more ‘serious’. There are two sides to him. One being rather goofy and the other being very serious. I think to a certain degree he tends to hide behind the goofy side. Though it definitely is a part of his character too. However he has had a very rough life and lost almost everyone dear to him. 10 years of ANBU sure did not help his mental health either. Caring for Team 7 pulled him out of that darkness a bit but that also was not exactly a win for him considering he did not manage to keep the team together. Sasuke lost to Orochimaru, Naruto went with Jiraiya and Sakura with Tsunade. It was quite a short lived experience. Kakashi has to deal with a lot of guilt and self-doubt and has a very low opinion of himself. That shines through in his dark moments in the anime and manga. I don’t think he ever overcame that really. He maybe can accept that others do not think that about him. It does not change that he thinks himself to be a fraud. He avoids the topic to the best of his abilities.

11. The mask thing: I don’t think there is much depth to this really. Honestly he does reveal his face for instance while eating in the anime and it is absolutely impossible to hide your face constantly. Especially on missions. This is probably the one headcanon I have since it has never been confirmed. For me he started wearing the mask as a kid because he has a heightened sense of smell. To deal with that the mask helped and that’s it. Additionally he does have a pretty face but never gave the impression to enjoy attention. For that the mask also helps. Now he is just used to it and it still has it’s merits. However he will pull it down and not make a fuss about it.

12. Also I have a job.

13. That’s it for now. Looking forward writing with you!

#Mun speaks #rules

2 notes · View notes

shurisneakers · 4 years ago

Text

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo.

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy.

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships.

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate.

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?”

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise.

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum.

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed.

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks.

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.”

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you.

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is.

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support.

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle.

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this.

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway.

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you.

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck.

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal.

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw.

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship.

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.”

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him.

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it.

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought.

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble.

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later.

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again.

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding.

Both of you looked ridiculous.

“Stay away, fiend.”

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you.

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t.

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible.

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself.

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring.

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time.

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes.

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you.

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again.

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst.

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm.

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying.

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again.

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment.

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you.

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up.

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech.

“Suppose that’s two points for me?”

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something.

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him?

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know.

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again.

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

1K notes · View notes