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weirdponytail · 4 years

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MIC!Arya and the Infamous Tarnag Temple Argument in IC Canon (AKA Modern Inheritance’s Take on Trauma, Religion, and Arya F***ing Apologizing)

Everyone gives Canon!Arya shit for the scene in the books where she gives Gannel shit in his own temple for having religion. I agree that it’s a bad moment for her character. I also feel it comes out of left field for Arya’s character up to that point but I’ll get smacked from here to the core mantle boundary for that by some of the fandom. I digress. This is very much not about my feelings on the canon version.

Let’s move on to how it might go for my Modern Inheritance!Arya and my version of events.

A lot of what I write about in MIC is trauma related. Arya’s one of the easiest characters for me to write for in that regard for obvious reasons, and because I’ve shaped my mental picture of her over the years so she’s the one I have the most practice with. Please note that usually when I go to bat for Arya I tend to get my MIC version of her muddled in with canon, so I apologize for any sharp words, brow beating, etc. Anyway...what was I talking about? OH RIGHT, TRAUMA AND THAT WHOLE TARNAG THING.

So just to further stress, this is Modern Inheritance/MIC right now.

Arya’s coming off from a hell of a time. You don’t exactly process deaths of loved ones very well while being tortured, and while she’s juggling all that plus two near death experiences that occurred probably within a week of each other, Eragon nearly dying and his back spasms, the guy that tortured her and killed her best friend and her mate is dead but she didn’t get to have a swing at him, mentally preparing to face her queen/mother, the ‘a whole clan now wants to murder Saphira and Eragon’ situation, civil unrest in the city they’re in, just Brom being Brom, physical stresses from the whole *waves hands at previous paragraph*, she’s suddenly reminded that hey...the dwarves and humans have something that elves don’t.

What’s that? Religion. And what usually comes with a religion?

The concept of an afterlife. The general idea that when someone dies they have not really left. The comfort that if you pray, meditate, visit a grave, do something special to you/your faith then you can make a connection to your lost loved ones and friends. The promise that even though they’ve left this world, they’re still looking out for you. And one day you’ll see them again. The separation is only brief.

And damn. Right then, that hurts for Arya. It’s like being kicked while you’re down.

TMI and on but off topic: My mother died when I was 12. She had a progressive neural disease which pretty much destroyed her mentally and physically over the course of a year or so. During that year, there were a bunch of ‘spiritual’ people coming over. Not mainstream religion types, but still.

I hated them with a passion. I hated them, the stuff they said about any type of afterlife or spirituality, prayer, the idea that the dead were not all gone, I fucking HATED that bumper sticker that says ‘if anything can go well, it will’ because ho BOY did that say something for the shit I was seeing and going through at the time.

I had been agnostic bordering on atheist before but this was the nail in it for me. After mom finally died I was a real sourpuss/snarky little shit whenever religion came up. I insulted every religion any time it came up. I shut down anything having to do with my mom ‘watching over me’ or ‘being with me/us in spirit.’

It took me years to understand it. I was angry because I couldn’t bring myself to believe that after all the shit I saw, the pain my dad went through, that I went through, and the whole year of watching a bright, loving, intelligent woman that was my whole world turn to a fully paralyzed drooling mess with mood swings and no voice besides a pained moan...that there was any sort of god or spiritual energy or other bullshit out there. Because then why would it happen? And why to her? People say that ‘well if there is a god then why does war/famine/assault/torture/disease/etc. happen?’ but when it happens to you, and you were already teetering on the edge of ‘does it or does it not, maybe there is something out there…’ it’s like being smacked in the face with a shovel.

I’ve got nothing against religion now, as long as it isn’t toxic or manipulative, etc. But I can see where Arya would be coming from.

Because deep down, Arya sees what the dwarves have. This comfort in thinking that the dead aren’t all gone, and that all it takes is reaching out to them to share thoughts and feelings, and that you’ll see them again.

And she wants that too. She wants it so badly. She envies their ability to think that way, to simply have faith in what they cannot see. She wants to talk to Fäolin and Glenwing (who is still alive in MIC but at this point she doesn’t know that) again, she wants to tell them that she misses them and that Eragon and Saphira exist and their deaths weren’t for nothing and tell them all the things unsaid...but no matter how much she wants to, she can’t get past everything thats happened in the past 6+ months and her own cultural beliefs.

It hurts. She can’t think of anything else to say past the hurt and so she lashes out like I did. She doesn’t understand why really, but knows that religion and afterlives and all of it just make her...angry. Because what else could that cold rock in her chest be?

In MIC, Arya is not as stubborn when it comes to atheism or other cultures. Before the ambush, she frequently asked questions about the dwarvish religion, not exactly realizing that her questions could be considered more of ‘you dare question the faith’ than ‘so wait what if this happens? Do you still get to go to the afterlife? But what about when you feel a mind die? Where does it go?’ innocent type questions that come from curiosity. She still has the feeling that the money donated to religions could go to better places, but also realizes that sometimes the religions actually send said donations TO those places/the needy, and that structures/art/etc that were built long ago do kinda need upkeep. So instead of being a dick about it, when the dwarves at the temple bluntly tell her ‘would you shut up and leave already we don’t want to answer your questions’ she adds a cheeky ‘sure I’ll go as long as you donate to the Varden’s current fundraiser’ and goes on her way when they agree to donate.

But Arya still blatantly crosses a line by confronting Gannel rather sharply about her newfound feelings on religion while Eragon is there. She’s been following them as Eragon’s bodyguard (why the HELL did canon!Arya leave Eragon alone, even in a temple full of warrior monks, wheN A WHOLE CLAN WAS TRYING TO KILL HIM?!) and she doesn’t even realize that she’s said anything until Eragon looks back at her like ‘ooooh nooooooOO ARYA WHAT THE HELL?! WAS THAT?!’ and she sees that the back of Gannel’s head is turning purple with rage.

Eragon manages to extricate himself from it all and meet up with Saphira, and after a rather...heated...uh…”discussion,” Gannel finally flames that while Arya’s questions before pushed the limit, this was beyond unacceptable and asks what the fuck is wrong with her. Arya just storms out.

Arya comes back to the temple later that night, asks for Gannel, and pretty much kneels down and puts her forehead on the floor in front of him (MIC elves do this only when they realize they REALLY fucked up and use this stance as an open way of saying that they fucked up, apologize, and will accept the consequences) with a sincere apology for her earlier conduct. Honestly, her ear is still red from where Brom had twisted it when he caught wind of what she had done, but she’s not apologizing just because of that.

She wants to learn how to pray.

Not to a god or spirit, but how to talk to the ones she’s lost. The idea of religion giving a false sense of hope still hurts and angers her...but she’s realized that maybe there’s a reason why it can bring comfort.

Gannel awkwardly explains that a way to get started is to simply speak aloud, as if talking to someone that isn’t there. When he realizes Arya isn’t pulling his leg or going to go off on him again, he decides to give her the ‘how to talk to dead people’ primer course over some mead and does his best to keep the more hard religion stuff out of it. As a priest/monk, he’s used to consoling people who have lost family and loved ones. He can pick up the signs easily enough...when the person isn’t ready to punch a hole in his fancy history wall.

As she leaves, Arya apologizes again.

And prods Gannel to donate to the Varden’s current fundraiser.

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barbwritesstuff · 3 years

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Hey hope you are dong well, I have a question but it isn't about Blood Moon Exactly. I was wondering, given that you have written a book and now are working on this IF, just how different is it? aside from the coding obviously is it easier? harder? just what is your general experience going from physical book to IF? and also why make Blood Moon a IF instead of another book?. If it's too much then please ignore.

Okay. This is going to be long and a bit TMI, so if you don't want to read that then please feel free to skip over this post.

Crying Wolf was a very difficult and personal book for me to write. However, the hardest part of the whole process was (for me) the editing. While I am very grateful to my editors, I now think they had different goals/ideas for the story than I did. The outcome of this is, while we were able to create a novel I'm very proud of, I was left feeling incredibly bad about myself and my writing.

Around this time I quit my job, dropped everything, and moved to Korea. Also, a pandemic happened.

For months I didn't write anything. I just didn't want to. It made me feel bad.

I was also in a new place, and unable to meet many people. So, I started playing more games, including some Choice of Games games.

I looked up Choice Script and, almost out of the blue, started writing again. It wasn't a deeply thought out choice, and I think I would have balked if I knew then how big Blood Moon would become, but I was writing again, and that felt good. I decided to just dive in and go for it, and that was one of the best choices I think I've made in a while. Having the support and encouragement of so many people while making this game has really helped me see my writing in a new and more positive light.

Writing a game is very different in some ways from writing a novel. Mostly, just keeping track of all the different branches is tricky. But, I actually quite like that challenge. Also, it was tricky learning how to write a protagonist that is enough of a blank slate to allow people to create their own character, while also still being present and interesting in the scenes.

Blood Moon isn't finished, so I can't say for sure, but I think the whole process of making it has been better for me than the process of making Crying Wolf was. Not easier, or harder, just... better.

That said, I want to keep writing novels. I know no one buys them anymore, and it would probably be smarter to choose a medium and stick too it, but I just want to write stories that people like, and while some may be good games, others will be better as books.

Okay. That's it. That's my rant. I'm sorry if it was a bit too personal. Ask me again in a year or two. Maybe then I'll be able to speak more analytically about the differences. Right now, it's all still happening, and is tangled up in feelings.

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fluffbyday-smutbynight · 3 years

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tl;dr: personal shit, tmi, feel free to skip

last night i was ready to get out of the house and to a small new year's eve gathering (got a last minute invitation) and as much as my rational brain was telling me "yeah you're gonna have a nice time" i couldn't ignore a huge pit in my stomach. so i sat there for a moment, bottle of white wine for the party in my hands, really taking in the meaning of the word "maudlin".

'cause i always celebrate new year's eve with my closest friends; not this time though. this time i'm far away and 2021 has been a weird-ass year - not a bad one, mind you: just... exceptional, and stressful. a year that has forced me to restart my life in a way, to be alone as never before (btw, thank y'all online besties for keeping me company and keeping me sane). oh, so many times i wished i could have my friends here with me, or be there with them, and for some reason it hit me hard last night.

(at some point in the night there would be a video-call with said friends where we exchanged wishes and "miss you" and then "guys i've gotta go" 'cause you can feel it coming: if you won't disconnect right now, you'll end up crying in front of everyone. which is a bit not good, if you don't wanna kill the festive mood)

but i did it - i went to that party. i went, though all i wanted was to curl up in my bed. i went, though i knew just one person there. and you know what? at some point i realized i was feeling like myself again: high-spirited, genuinely laughing and shooting the shit, not a bit uneasy or awkward. like i'd known this "new" people for ages. (somewhat important factor into it, i suppose: realizing that the party consisted for the most part of queer as hell people, an occurrence i didn't think even possible in such a small town. and yet, i may have found "my" people. here, of all places. mindblowing)

i realized that i wasn't having a nice time... i was having a really GOOD one.

so, here's to everyone who's going through weird or hard or stressful times, who's feeling alone or displaced or maudlin:

keep your chin up, and may your 2022 be full of nice good times.

#personal shit #no need to reblog ty

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asrisgratitudejournal · 3 years

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25-28/09

Wow, betul-betul ya the power of procrastinating tuh dan how to build a habit out of something susah banget. Sekali udah ditinggalin, pasti keterusan buat nggak ngelanjutin. The same thing happened to me with running and exercising in general. Tiba-tiba lihat kalender, nah loh, sudah tanggal 28 aja sodara-sodara. Terakhir nulis savouring & journal padahal 24.... ke mana 4 hariku hilang? Ok baiklah, mumpung masih ingat, yang savouringnya w skip aja ya. Ini lebih ke 5 things to be grateful for everyday dari 25-28 hari ini:

25/09

1. Grateful for the fact that I could wake up late? Mulai minggu lalu, pagi-pagi udah ngga ada kelas DD dan SMA16 lagi soalnya KSN-Pnya sudah selesai, jadi bisa bangun siang. Eh tapi ujung-ujungnya bangun pagi juga deng, karena jam 0730 ada seminar kuliahnya Prof. Koesoemadinata jadi kebangun pagi sambil dengerin beliau di zoom terus malah dichat sama Mas Probo jadinya, Alhamdulillah ya sekalian menyambung silaturahmi lah ya.

2. Grateful for the badminton session! Cuma ber-3 main sama Archu dan Baron, Brigita salah baca court jadinya dia ga dateng, tapi senang, at least I could let out of sweat and get some endorphin lah ya.

3. Grateful for... being able to cook and enjoy my own food(?) kalau gasalah abis badminton laper banget terus masak nasi+kaldu ayam walaupun kebanyakan air, terus buat tahu-udang-mussel-salted egg, dimakan bareng abon, dan bikin minum teh tarik juga. I think sambil makan sambil telponan sama mita juga waktu itu(?) lupa :(

4. Grateful for apalagi ya... just the fact that it's weekend I guess? Jadi lebih relax dan ga stres dan anxiety aja

5. Grateful for... my existence.... gatau lagi mau nulis apa karena lupa details hari sabtu kemaren tapi yang jelas for the fact that I exist aja dengan kondisi sehat sudah amat sangat bersyukur. AH! Inget! Kayanya there's something to do with duolingo sih, tapi iya senang karena I think I climbed up the rank or something? Yah semacam itulah. So... kesimpulannya adalah I am living a good life

26/09

1. Grateful karena bisa bangun siang lagi yey! Masih sama seperti yang no 1 di tanggal 25

2. Grateful for the fact that my mom and dad and sister are all healthy back home. Got to talk with mom a bit, and I'm just so happy to hear from her that everything eventually gets better back home in Indonesia(?) If we keep it up at this rate, I think we'll definitely go back to pre-covid earlier than predicted!

3. Ke London sorenya! Tadinya mau berangkat abis lunch jam 1-an gitu. Udah booking Tate museum juga at 1500 tapi ujung-ujungnya karena rumah lagi agak rame jadi antre kamar mandi (ini excuse ajasih) akhirnya baru jalan dari rumah jam 1430 HAHA dan sampe London jam 1630. Langsung jajan ShakeShack (which makes me very happy)

4. Grateful for the fact that I'm an ARMY too! Di London langsung ke BWON, ini resto Korea gitu, terus ada event birthdaynya NJ dan JK diadakan oleh @minaluvchim. Di sini ketemu teman-teman ARMY baru dan senang aja, senang gaksih ketemu orang-orang yang passionate with the same thing as you are?? Wow, I wish I feel the same towards people in my department though. Harusnya gitu sih, tapi entah kenapa geology now feels more like burden to me rather than passion :( Terus senang bangetnya juga karena ku datengnya di slot akhir, ku bisa stay lama-lama di situ. Karena awalnya galau kan, mau take shelter di mana karena si Kings of Convenience-nya baru perform at 2030. Yah.. intinya bersyukur sekali ngga perlu lantang luntung kebingungan di London sendirian...

5. Grateful for the free ticket from Nugi to watch Kings of Convenience performance @ Royal Festival Hall! Sesungguhnya lagu KoC yang ku tahu cuma Cayman Islands doang (help?!), but I always appreciate music & art anyway, jadi walaupun folk guitar is not a thing for me, I'd still be happy kalau ada yang ngasih tiket gratis buat nonton such great artists (or just any artist sesungguhnya). Udah deg-degan kan awalnya pulang malem karena kupikir bakal lama konsernya, tapi ternyata jam 10 udah beres(?) akhirnya dah sampai rumah deh jam 12 malam.

27/09

Kemarin. I feel like I failed myself every weekdays. You can tell from my writing, most exciting things happened over weekend. But anyways I still feel very grateful though, dikasih waktu yang banyak sama Allah. So, 5 things to be grateful for yesterday:

1. I have so much time. As usual, weekdays is a nightmare for me, but I can always take things slow. Pagi-pagi ngopi, makan roti, sambil nonton apa ya kemaren? Lupa. Yang jelas I watched quite a lot of things kemarin, salah satunya We K-Pop di mana Prince Khun menjadi salah satu MC dan bisa melihat dia berinteraksi dengan idol-idol kesukaanku. Intinya makasih YaAllah dibuat bisa menyukai sesuatu yang mana ga semua orang bisa punya interest sebesar itu towards things.

2. Masih punya nasi yang masak Sabtu abis badminton itu, jadi bisa makan enak tanpa masak.

3. Kelas SeedWISE! Got to meet another fellow di departemen2 sebelah yang mengalami struggles yang sama dengan diriku ini. And how they encouraged me a lot. Walaupun ku masuk kelasnya telat sih karena lupa wkwkw.

4. Just to be able to wfh I guess? Karena tiba-tiba kemarin Senin dan hari ini cuacanya buruk aja, the sun was out but only for like 5mins? Sisanya hujan dan angin huft. Nevertheless, I am still grateful for being able to experience UK weather though.

5. Kalina cerita di perempatan Headington situ ada yang habis meninggal kecelakaan sepeda ketabrak lorry gitu umur 32 tahun woman :( sedih banget terus Kalina bilang "Asri, just dont ride a bike" :(( tapi emang di sini safety buat cyclistnya kurang banget sih, terutama kalau udah versus HGV atau kendaraan bermotor :( yaudah intinya ini bukan bersyukur karena ada yang meninggal sih, tapi lebih ke bersyukur karena selama 1 tahun di sini I am still intact dan gapernah mengalami kecelakaan sama sekali alias Alhamdulillah (apalagi melihat nature w yang butter finger dan clumsy ini)

28/09

Wow. Hari ini. Another failure of the day I think. Mungkin nanti malam atau besok akan ku-edit tapi ku-list dulu sampai jam 1444 ini apa yang sudah disyukuri:

1. Tadi pagi bikin sarapan enak. Masih punya roti tapi butter dan jam abis, akhirnya bikin sarapan ala-ala English breakfast lah: ngegoreng suny side up + sosis + toast roti. Senang banget makannya HUHU

2. WFH lagi(?) jadi gaperlu merasakan dinginnya angin dan hujan di luar. Tapi ya kekurangannya memang jadi less productive aja sih. But let's see what I can do after this. Plannya juga sebetulnya mau belanja ke luar karena susu, butter, egg, dan roti sudah habis... tapi mager banget ngeliat kondisi di luar huf

3. tba

4. tba

5. tba

Dah sekian dulu diary PR kelas coursera saya selama 4 hari terakhir. Sebetulnya ini kan PR week 2 ya, harusnya udah beres sih, cuma disuruh 7 hari doang, but I think I'd keep it up setiap hari akan nulis 5 things to be grateful for ini. Maafkan kalau terlalu sampah untuk teman-teman semua karena gabisa relate at all dan sangat personal aka TMI, but I need to do this just for myself actually. Mungkin suatu saat nanti akan membuat tulisan berfaedah macam "Jardine" atau "Akses" yang gain traction cukup banyak. Tapi sepertinya untuk sementara ini, masih di sini saja dulu kualitas pos tumblr saya. Ciao!

28/09 1448 pm Woodlands Close 9

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loftec · 3 years

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I'm assuming/hoping that my ask is one in an avalanche of messages in response to your post on writing and NTW. Honestly? It broke my heart a little because it sounds like you're not having fun with it - like the pressure you're putting on yourself to put out THE One True Perfect Version of the story for your readers. I love the story - and I want you to love it. Don't let pressure (external OR internal) ruin the joy of creating this world. Put out something less than perfect if you just want to be done with it. Take ten years for 500 words if it pleases you to find just the right words in just the right order. Take a hiatus - even a permanent one! - if you need to. Yes, readers will be sad. I'll be sad. But I'll go back and re-re-re-read the lovely story that you've already shared - and I'll be happy knowing that you walked away before you let it ruin writing/the story in your head/THE FUN. Because this isn't a job. You don't owe anyone anything. You're incredibly talented, so you naturally have people who are going to want everything you're willing to share with us. But you are SHARING with us. We're lucky to have what you've created this far, but everything you've shared is so far is a gift - and so is everything you may choose to share moving forward. NONE of it's a given.

There will always be some internet critic who feels free to tell you what they think they're entitled to as a reader, and you should feel free to delete those asks or share them with the community so we can have fun roasting them. But don't write for that person. Write for you. No matter what happens with the work from here, we ALREADY have this incredible story that is somehow sweet AND true to character AND just an utter joy to read.

Hello friend, first; you're always so kind and generous and supportive and I appreciate it more than you'll ever know.

I think you're right, I'm not having a very fun time with it right now. And I always said I wouldn't write unless it was fun. Suppose I'm just a bit scared every time this happens that it won't come back on its own. It was a very specific thing I got caught up on yesterday and I usually love a nice problem to solve, but I just felt a bit lost thinking about it. Like I didn't know the world or the characters or the tone anymore. Not fun! Definitely sure it's just temporary though, as in like, this week* temporary. I hope, so I can use the rest of my vacation not moping and actually writing like I've been looking forward to for ages whooop (not at all putting pressure on my poor vacation lol)

*Because (and this is tmi if you want to skip this) of course my period started today which means that yesterday's general ~paranoia vibe~ was part of the monthly package deal. It's a relatively new thing, so I'm not too good at recognising it when it happens. The paranoia is a new thing, not the pain and gore.

#I tried to wait a little before answering this #so I could be a bit less morose #but hello day 2: if people are nice to loftec -> loftec will cry #❤️

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thirstybtsthoughts · 3 years

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I don't know who needs to know this but ladies listen up!! I found a way to masturbate during your period that doesn't involve getting blood all over yourself!! By the way this is gonna be a bit of a TMI moment so feel free to skip ahead hehehe 😁

So I tried doing it with a tampon in the other day (second day of my period), it was a bit dry at the beginning but as time went on only ehm... wetness was coming out while the blood was still blocked by the tampon? I was a bit surprised lol but istg at the end of it only the tiniest bit of blood had come out. And lubrication was more than fine 😁

Interesting! Thanks for sharing! 💜

#asks #anon #advice

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yukipri · 4 years

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Heya so this might be a bit tmi and I don't quite remember if it ever was addressed in the op canon but how does Luffys reproduction work in your mermaid AU? Would she lay egg(s)? Does she get her period? Does dragon being a human change anything about her biology? When she ever meets other merfolk, is her human lineage frowned upon? Are all the guys really down with intercourse with a fish "vagina"? ( I really love your art and story btw, feel free to ignore if this is to obscene)

So this isn’t tmi for me bc yes I did personally think of these things ^ ^;;;

BUT, if this is TMI for anyone else, feel free to skip!

So, on Merfolk biology.

We know very little about merfolk/fishmen biology in canon, other than that:

1) they can interbreed with humans, which means compatible biology that probably isn’t too different (example: Big Mom and her daughters Praline and Prim, who are mer),

2) fishmen and merfolk are also reproductively compatible, and

3) the physical appearance of children isn’t necessarily going to be the same as their parents (they fish halves might be a completely different species, the genes carried over from ancestors. This is explained in canon).

This leads me to assume that they have live births, like humans (which means I am deeply, DEEPLY concerned about poor Otohime when she was carrying Shirahoshi, who as an infant was already multiple times the size of her mother. but then again, there are plenty of other Concerning size differences in the OP universe too, not just limited to merfolk, so perhaps we’re supposed to not think too deeply on that). Anyway, for the purposes of this AU, merfolk pregnancies work more or less like human ones.

Regarding periods though, I thought about how it might be a little awkward, given how most merfolk have their tails uncovered, and how it might be okay if they were always swimming in open water, but Fishman island’s mostly developed and idk, it could be unsanitary to just sorta be leaking. So I thought hm, what do rl ocean creatures who have live births do? And I was reading up on dolphins, who guess what, don’t actually have periods! What do they have instead? Heats.

So that’s right folks, in this AU, merfolk (and to be fair, fishmen) don’t have periods, but DO have heats/ruts, although they won’t be nearly as aggressive as you’d expect from, say, an omegaverse AU ^ ^;

Do Luffy or Ace know anything about this? Absolutely not :)

As for the other questions:

Do other mer care about Lu’s possibly mixed heritage? Possibly, but we’d have to be clear about her heritage first, and we’re not clear even in canon, so no answer here. They’d be concerned about other parts of her though, such as her heavily-human(?) upbringing.

And does anyone care about her being a mermaid? I mean, I doubt it, given how very VERY obvious it is that she’s a mermaid? ^ ^; I don’t think anyone who matters in this AU or any of my works cares about Parts.

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

#YukiPri replies #OnePieceMermaidAU #One Piece Mermaid AU #genderbend #mermaids #Anonymous #longpost #long post

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damn-daemon · 4 years

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An Apology

My chapter updates have been few and far between. I owe everyone several updates. Probably more like several dozen. And for that, I would like to apologize. I wish I could promise that it will get better, but I don’t want to let anyone down.

And no, no one has bothered me over how slow I am with updating. It’s nothing like that. I just have a personal belief that if I post something, I am obligated to see it through. I haven’t been very good at it, but I still hold to that belief nonetheless. So, trust me, when I’m not updating, I hate it.

Below is an explanation of events, but feel free to skip that.

So, aside from the normal reasons a person can give (writer’s block, GoT season 8 sucked), 2020 just has really been fucking with me.

I suffer from really bad anxiety. It started up in sophomore year of college and hit a peak in junior year, to the point where I basically couldn’t sleep and struggled to get out of bed every day. I dropped out of classes and almost lost my job over it. Basically, doing anything could give me a panic attack. I’d have panic attacks over the possibility of having a panic attack. But somehow, I crawled out of the hole I had dug myself into and managed to graduate on time, and basically had it under control, minus the occasional stumble.

And now, here’s 2020.

All the stress of everything has brought the anxiety back with a vengeance, but in particular the pandemic has had a big affect on me. And not just dealing with people who won’t bother being kind. The virus itself has me kinda losing it. Part of, if not most, of my anxiety comes from a paranoia over my physical well-being. Ever since my first panic attack, which had me utterly convinced I was having a heart attack, I’ve been consistently worried over my heart and other things, to the point where I would get symptoms for diseases that I didn’t have. All I would have to do is hear about it, and my mind would do the rest (the school counselor had no idea what to do with me).

So, last weekend, I got a call from our HR department that one of my coworkers had tested positive for Covid, and that just sent me into a spiral (been over two weeks since contact and I still have no symptoms though!). I was constantly convinced I had symptoms for it (this has already happened previously, but not remotely to this extent). I’ve become better at calming myself and telling myself these things just aren’t true, but it’s really been close to a breaking point for me this year, almost to the point in college again.

BASICALLY what I’m trying to say is that writing has been difficult for me because I have been really busy trying to convince myself that I’m not dying, and trying to rein in my stupid anxiety. It’s why I photoshop a lot. I don’t have to think. It’s why I’ve been gaming more. I don’t have to think. Writing requires a lot of energy from me and I have not been able to summon it during all this.

So, thanks for sticking around everyone. Sorry if this was a bit TMI, but I felt that I just really needed to put everything out there.

Here’s to us.

#sorry this is so long #don't mind me #i'm in a good place right now so don't worry #personal

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looking-for-another-world · 5 years

Text

Not Alone

summary: Bucky spends Christmas alone at the compound. Or nah?

pairing: Bucky x reader

warnings: 18+, tiny bit of angst, mentions of family toxicity, cursing, explicit smut, dirty talk, like one allusion to reader being plus-sized, soft!bucky, really sappy - you have been warned

words: 6321

a/n: This is my entry for @honeyhan-123‘s HOLIDAY SPIRIT WRITING CHALLENGE. I had the prompt “Finding the perfect Christmas tree / decorating it” and looking back, I might have slightly diverted from that oops. This was so much fun to do though. This is literally my first finished piece of writing in years, so be nice to me, ok? Right, tmi. Anyways, this has gotten way out of hand in terms of how many words I wanted to write. I might make 3 separate files of it when I’m in the mood to figure out links, but for now here’s the entire fic in one. Enjoy! Also, I hope your 2020 is going to be amazing ❤💫🥂🎆

Prologue

As soon as Bucky stepped into the kitchen of the Avengers compound, his super soldier senses made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something’s wrong.

It was Dec 23, one day before Christmas Eve, and everyone except him had gone away for the holidays. Clint was visiting Laura and the kids, accompanied by Natasha (apparently, the boys had been nagging their mom for a solid 2 months whether Aunt Tasha would be staying with them), Wanda and Vision were traveling around Europe, Tony had taken Pepper to some little island in the Caribbean Sea, and Steve and Sam had booked a cozy, remote cabin in the woods to go skiing, hiking, getting drunk (well, Sam at least) and most importantly, getting away from being the Avengers for a few days.

Initially, Steve had Friday book the trip for three persons, but Bucky had refused. This was the first Christmas since many years that he was starting to remember who he was, really was, and although Steve was pretty much everything he considered home, he had preferred to spend Christmas where he actually came from.

In the end, Steve had reluctantly agreed, not wanting to push his best friend, but insisting that they at least spoke to one another on the phone every day. And so, Bucky had spent his day wandering the streets of Brooklyn for hours, fulfilling his best friend duty on his way home and telling Steve how much everything had changed and yet, strangely, still felt familiar. He could hear Steve smile through the phone; he felt the same. That’s when Sam had burst through the door of the hut, screeching “All I want for Christmas is you” next to Steve’s ear and ruining the moment. Steve had said his goodbye, leaving to stop Wilson from inhaling another bottle of Eggnog, and Bucky had wished him good luck with the bird brain. He returned to the compound, more mentally than physically exhausted, and headed straight to the kitchen, suddenly remembering that he hadn’t eaten something in hours. And there it was: A small puddle of water on top of the counter, as if someone had taken something out of the fridge and put it there for a moment. Only that there was no one to do that. He was supposed to be alone.

It couldn’t have been him: his soldier and assassin training had left him with an urge to leave everything neat and tidied; no traces. Silently, he made his way back into the hallway, calling the elevator and going two levels down, to the first level that was officially “Avengers territory”. Going back up, he searched every floor without coming across anything suspicious. And then, as the doors of the elevator opened to the 18th floor with a slight swoosh, he sensed it: There’s someone else on this level. He tensed up. His super soldier hearing going into overdrive, he snuck along the dimly-lit corridor until he heard them: sounds coming from the last room to the left, the entertainment room, stacked up with books, movies, consoles, a pool table, anything you could think of to pass your free time. He tried to hear more intently. The person on the other side of the door barely produced sounds; all he could make out was their shallow breathing. Someone with a normal hearing wouldn’t even have caught up on it.

Bucky conjured up a blueprint of the room: even if he could get through the door unnoticed, there was no place to hide. The whole design of the room practically screamed: “Look who’s coming!” His only advantage was the element of surprise. Trying to calm down his nerves, he took a few deep breaths and braced himself. Not wanting to have his arms in a position he could easily be taken hold of in, he stepped back, raised his right leg and kicked the door down, storming inside, met by a piercing scream and a loud splash as the bucket of ice cream you had been holding met the ground.

“(Y/N)?!”

“What the hell?!”

“Why are you here?”

“I fucking live here in case you haven’t noticed! Why are you kicking the goddamn door down like I’m some HYDRA agent trying to slit your throat?”

“Because-”, Bucky stops, guilt washing over him. Guilt and anger with himself. Even HYDRA wouldn’t be so dumb as to blow their cover like that, and they’d do a bit more than get the kitchen counter dirty if they wanted to make their presence known. “Because I thought you were one.” His voice is low now, almost a whisper, his eyes unable to meet yours, fingers fumbling with the hem of the coat he didn’t have time to take off. And seeing him like this, you understood: He thought someone had intruded.

You let out the breath you were holding. “I’m sorry, Buck. I wasn’t thinking. I should have let you know about my change of plans and that I’d be spending Christmas at the compound.”

His ears perked up at that. “You are? I thought you were going to visit your family.” You smiled sadly and now that his mind and body weren’t overtaken by adrenaline anymore, he took in your state for the first time. You looked pale, your eyes red-rimmed, like you had been crying. You were wrapped in the navy-blue blanket twice your size that Wanda had given you for your birthday. It went all the way down to your ankles where the legs of your sweatpants were peeping through, showing just a small stripe of skin before the fabric of a pair of green fuzzy socks covered your skin again. The ice cream you had dropped started melting on the ground, slowly dampening part of the expensive rug the pool table stood on, which you didn’t seem to notice. “What happened?”

You let out a mixture between a snort and an unconvincing laugh. “I talked to my mom on the way to the airport. She started complaining about how much I’ve been letting them down this year, bringing up things I didn’t even think were an issue anymore, and how she hoped I would pull myself together this time, for the sake of Christmas and our family. So, I figured I’d probably have a more fun time being alone in my room and sleeping for like 2 weeks than I’d have being with them.” The last part was meant to sound casually, but Bucky didn’t miss the twitch of your lips and how your eyes started to gloss over again. He wanted to say something to comfort you, but his mind didn’t know where to start and so he just kept staring at you wordlessly, which you took as a sign of annoyance.

“Don’t worry. I won’t bother you with that shitty Christmas music or candy or anything of that kind. I’m not gonna ruin your alone time. Just pretend I’m not here.”

He frowned at that, then, and as his tongue still seemed to be tied, he did the only thing he felt was appropriate: He put your arms around you and hugged you, hard, all-consuming. “I’m not worried you’re going to ruin my alone time. I like having you around. I’m sorry your family are like that, when they’re the ones letting you down.”

You’d liked to reply to that, thank him for his sweet words, but you were sure you’d start crying again the second you stopped biting down on your lip. So you reciprocated the hug as best as you could; after all you were lacking Bucky’s strength. Bucky squeezed you shortly and let go, and when your eyes locked again, you couldn’t help but mirror his warm smile. Jesus, this guy certainly made you feel things. No surprise you were crushing on him so hard.

“We’d better clean this up”, Bucky said gesturing to the now empty ice bucket head and your eyes widened as you noticed the mess you’d made. “Shit!”. Tony had spent an insane amount of money on that carpet, even for his proportions. He’d shoot you to the moon for that.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Bucky jogged back to the elevator, returning a minute later with a wet cloth and a roll of kitchen towels which he handed to you. Getting to work, you suddenly became aware of how much closer than usually you two were. You could smell Bucky’s aftershave – something resembling cedarwood – watch the muscles in his arms flex as he tried to rid the fabric of its B&J make-over, study the stubble on his perfectly sculpted jaw, his hazelnut locks, his plump lips. Oh god, his lips. Just thinking about having those lips kiss every inch of your body got you worked up. Get a grip, for fuck’s sake!

“So you’re really planning on skipping Christmas? It’s your favorite holiday”, Bucky interrupted your thoughts, shooting you a glance to see you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t want to see my parents right now, and I can’t imagine celebrating Christmas on my own. So yeah, guess I’ll be taking a break from it this year.”

“You’re not on your own, though. You’re with me. We can celebrate.”

You felt a pleasantly warm sensation in your stomach which you tried to ignore, quirking an eyebrow at him instead. “You hate Christmas.”

“I don’t hate all of it, I hate what it’s become. I hate that most people care more about what useless shit is in their stockings or under the tree than about who they’re spending their time with. I hate how every shop starts putting up Christmas stuff before it’s even October. They don’t even call it “Christmas” anymore. I mean seriously, xmas? What’s that even supposed to mean?”

Despite yourself, a small giggle escaped you at how upset he could get about it all and realizing he had started ranting without wanting to, Bucky had to stifle a laugh as well. "Point I’m trying to make is ” he concluded “I wouldn’t mind spending Christmas with the right company.”

Oh, and that’s supposed to be me? Right company?“, you shot back. "Sure thing, doll. You’re like an expert on Christmas, I can’t go wrong with you. Also, I like having you around. ” He furrowed his eyebrows. “I’ve already said that, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, you have. But that’s okay, I like hearing it”, you laughed, your hand briefly touching his arm. You were becoming kind of needy, it appeared. Bucky didn’t seem to mind though, or at least he didn’t let it show.

Looking down, you noticed with an internal sigh of relief that the ice cream puddle had given way to the water and the kitchen towels. All that was left was a wet patch that would hopefully disappear overnight.

“Guess that’s as good as it gets”, you joked. “Thanks for helping me.”

“It’s the least I could do, after scaring the shit out of you.” He took the dirty towels from you. “Guess we’re Christmas buddies then” he grinned. It was surprising how excited he seemed to be all of a sudden, but you didn’t let yourself linger on that thought. “Well, as the official Christmas ambassador, I have to let you know that this place sucks. There’s not even decorations.”

That was true. The past weeks had been incredibly hectic, even more than in previous years, and since almost everyone would be gone over the holiday season anyway and Bucky had emphasized several times that having the tower turn into Santa’s village would most likely lift his dinner, rather than his spirits, Tony hadn’t bothered to put up decorations.

Bucky gave you an amused look. “I see you’re getting into it. Alright, what do we need?”

“You mean, like everything?”

“Yeah, like the ideal setting. Can’t be that difficult.”

You gave him a sceptical look. “Oh no, not at all. We just need the decorations, music, candy, ugly Christmas sweaters, stuff to bake cookies, a firepla-”

“Okay, okay, I take it back.” Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “This is too much. What’s the most important thing?”

“The tree”, you replied without thinking. “The tree is the most important, to me at least. When my dad used to tell me he’d be bringing the Christmas tree home tonight, I’d spend all day glued to the window of my room, waiting for his car to steer into the driveway. It’s the one thing we ever did as a family, all three of us, decorating the tree. Everything else would be pretty much Mum and me, since Dad would be out working. The tree is … it just wouldn’t feel like Christmas without it.”

Inadvertedly, your brain had walked down memory lane to pictures of baubles in gold and red and purple and every color of the rainbow, mingled with the scent of fir and your dad’s bass voice singing “Have yourself a merry little Christmas” to you while you were sitting on your lap, and suddenly another wave of sadness hit you and you had to fight back the tears that were starting to well up again. You swallowed thickly before looking back at Bucky and were met with an understanding look. He had noticed your struggle but chose not to bring it up again and you were grateful for that. Grateful for him.

There were a few beats of silence before the super soldier offered you a tentative smile and said: “So Christmas tree is your final answer?” Another giggle.

"That’s my final answer.”

Part 1

You woke up to a sky the color of granite. Gloomy light and heavy clouds. Your heart jumped a little in your chest at the prospect of another downfall of snow. What’s Christmas without snow, right? Too comfortable to get up right away, you snuggled back into your pillow and let your mind wander.

It was embarrassing, really, but thinking about spending the whole day with Bucky filled you with a mix of anticipation and nervousness you usually felt before first dates. Prior to your job interview last February, you had spent hours and hours hooked up on research about the people you might soon be working with – the fucking Avengers! -, but Bucky’s story, or at least what was known of it to the public, had fascinated and moved you the most. It was hard for you to wrap your head around how someone could endure the most appalling things you could possibly imagine, and that for decades. Someone like the ex-Winter Soldier could barely be human anymore, filled to the brink with hatred and disgust for the world and the people in it, that you were sure of. And then, when you got the job and got to know him – he was the exact opposite. Sure, he was careful and hard to read, especially at the beginning, but he was kind. He was funny. He was emphatic. He was a nerd. He was sweet. And when you moved in to the tower and the two of you spent more time together, your feelings towards him grew stronger, and you found yourself imagining waking up next to him, his lips on yours the first thing you taste in the morning. Cupping his cheek and watching his eyes crinkle when he flashes you his million-dollar smile. Stroking his hair while he reads his favorite passages out to you or rambles about how all the things he’s just discovering now are not quite as good as what they had back in the days, but some of them are not bad. Being pressed down by his weight as you get to explore all of his gorgeous body and find out what sounds he makes when he’s buried in you, filling you up, making you feel so good as you’re begging him not to stop because he’s hitting just the right spot and you never want to let go of him, so good, please Bucky, please don’t stop, oh God, I’m so close baby, fuck…

The loud buzzing of your phone jerked you out of your trance and made you sit up straight in your bed, your heartbeat thumping in your ears, cheeks heated, fingers you didn’t even remember putting there coated in your arousal. Breathing heavily, you stretched your neck to see who the caller was: Mum. Oh, hell no. In a sudden burst of resurging anger, you declined the call, threw your phone away from you and let yourself fall back against the headboard with an audible huff.

Finishing the job wasn’t going to happen after yesterday’s events started rolling in, so you forced yourself out of bed and into the shower, washing away the heat of your little daydream with water as cold as you could bear. Putting moisturizer on, you focused your thoughts on today. If Bucky still wanted to help setting up everything for Christmas, they should get started as soon as possible. An actual Christmas tree was a bit too much to ask obviously, but maybe they could find a fake one and some funny tree ornaments to go along with it? Sweaters shouldn’t be that much of a problem either, they practically threw them in your face around this time of the year. And the Christmas music could easily be taken care of by Spotify.

You started listing the essential ingredients for three or four kinds of Christmas cookies in your head when you left your room to get breakfast. Closing the fridge door, you tried to decide where and in which order to go to get everything you needed on time (or should you split up?) when you noticed the yellow, blue, pink and green dots on the cold metal surface, dancing around in a carefully studied rhythm like colorful fireflies. Frowning, you turned around.

The huge panorama windows were decorated with beautifully woven ice flowers up to almost half of their height and framed by several strings of Christmas lights, cheerfully blinking against the grey sky outside and bathing the living room area in a colorful hue. Now that you stepped closer, the living room looked different as well. The couches and armchairs were covered under thick and fluffy-looking plaids and pillows with different Christmas-themed motives; a very kind looking Santa Claus on one, a couple of reindeer holding cups of Eggnog and singing “Jingle Bells” on another and the slogan “Tis the season” in as much glitter as could be fitted on so small a space emblazoned on a third. There were decorations, too: a nutcracker next to the tv, an angel’s choir holding candles on one of the couch tables, a snowman, a sledge, a rocking horse, a squirrel in a scarf… You couldn’t even decide where to look first. Too preoccupied to take everything in, you didn’t notice Bucky’s presence until he cleared his throat. “Do you like it?” You turned around to meet him, dumbfounded and still trying to understand what was going on, even more so when you saw the sweater he was wearing: fir green and depicting a penguin wearing a Christmas hat. You let out an incredulous laugh. “Did- did you do all this?”

Bucky lowered his gaze briefly and gave you a sheepish smile. “Pretty much, yeah. I’d hoped you’d sleep in. Gave me enough time to set everything up.” Your mouth opened and closed, unable to find words. “I-“ “Wait!” he interrupted. “There’s more.” He outstretched a slightly shaking hand and seeing that you didn’t respond, hastily withdrew it. Finally though, your body and mind seemed to have rebooted, and you grabbed his hand with both of yours. It felt hot against yours, hot and slightly raw. Bucky shot a surprised look from your intertwined hands to your face and you could’ve sworn that his cheeks blushed slightly. Is this even real?

Squeezing your hands slightly, he walked past you and into the living room, pulling you with him. Around the corner, out of your line of sight, there was a slightly smaller lounging area with the best stereo sound system Tony could get his hands on and without tv, designed for the numerous occasions you fancied actually spending time with each other and being able to face each other when chatting or playing games instead of just staring at a huge screen in unison. Now though, the bean bags had been moved to the side and in the center of the room stood – a tree. Not just any tree, but a fir tree about 10 or 11 feet high, almost filling up the room with its size and emanating that unmistakable scent that always took you back to fond Christmas memories. Next to it, on the ground and on several of the bean bags Bucky had piled up a seemingly endless number of boxes containing Christmas baubles of all sorts, ranging from the traditional ones to typical Christmas motives, Disney characters, and even the most absurd things such as very small-sized fruits and vegetables.

You couldn’t remember when your heart had last felt so light and full. If Bucky’s hand hadn’t anchored you, you might have just floated up through the ceiling and into the sky. And why not? Who knew what else might be possible after all this had felt so much like a dream already? Giving yourself no time to think about overstepping boundaries and the like, you threw yourself into Bucky’s arms, feeling rather than noticing his strong arms instantly enveloping your frame. “Thank you.” Your voice was muffled because you had buried your face in the crook of his neck and because you were close to crying again. Sensing your state, Bucky started tracing soothing patterns on your lower back and mimicking his movements, your hands started stroking his broad shoulders. “My pleasure, doll.”

He held you like that for several moments, lightly swaying to and fro, taking deep breaths with you. And after a while, when you’d quieted down a bit, you noticed that not only your heart threatened to jump out of your chest; Bucky’s heart beat a lot faster as well, hammering against his ribcage so much that you could almost feel it against yours. You drew back a little so you could see his face and were met with a look you’d never seen on him before, a look that went straight to your groin. His hands tightened on your back, like he was afraid to let you go, and your nose lightly brushed his. And just as you were about to close your eyes… his phone rang.

The noise startled you so much that you jumped in his arms and Bucky let out an audible sigh. “That’ll be Steve. Be right back.” With that, he let go of you to grab his cell from the kitchen and you felt like someone had just emptied a bucket of ice water over you and snapped you back to reality. More than that, you did feel cold. Had your body grown used to the heat radiating off him so quickly? Also, and that was the most important: What the fuck did just happen?

Bucky returned about 10 minutes later and found you in almost the same spot where he’d left you, now sitting awkwardly on one of the empty bean bags, desperately trying to regain composure. His heart still fluttered from being so close to you, and as he wanted this day to be anything but awkward, he’d spent a good 7 of those 10 minutes away thinking about how to proceed. In a manner he hoped would come across as relaxed, he sauntered over to the closest bean bag and picked up one the boxes filled with baubles. “Soooo”, why was his voice so squeaky? “let’s get started, shall we?”

He couldn’t see your heart slightly sink in your chest because the magical moment had officially passed of course; he just had eyes for the warm smile you offered him in return. “Sure.” You got up to take hold of one the boxes as well when he remembered something. “Hang on.” You raised your head and could make out something slightly mischievous in his orbs. “I won’t be the only one wearing an ugly Christmas sweater.”

—

4 hours later, any sign of awkwardness or discomfort between the two of you had officially gone to the wind. As instructed, you’d put on the ugliest Christmas sweater you could find (an awful mix of pink and gold in the shape of a Christmas elf with actual bells that jingled whenever you moved), Bucky had put on some music and you’d gone about your business. At some point (probably after your fourth cup of cocoa with rum and Bucky’s third pint of Asgardian mead he’d snatched from Thor’s quarters), you decided to forego any sense of aesthetics and just put up as many ornaments as would fit on the tree. As a result, it now looked as if the slightest gust of wind would make it collapse on the spot, but you two were oddly proud of your work. Taking cocoa and mead with you, you decided to have a small break and moved over to the living room area.

There were a few beats of comfortable silence, Sinatra softly buzzing in the background. Then, out of the blue, Bucky asked you to tell him your favorite joke. You were too tipsy to question how he’d come up with that, so you pondered his request for a moment and then answered. “I hate Russian dolls. They’re so full of themselves.”

Bucky sat up on his spot of the couch and gave you an odd stare that made you wonder whether he’d understood you at all, and then burst out of laughter, almost spilling his drink in the process and making you laugh in return. You’d never really heard his laugh, just the occasional snort when he deemed something worthy of a reaction, but this was a sound made from the gods themselves and you could listen to it all day, every day, for the rest of your life.

Slowly, his fit came down to a low, melodious chuckle. “Honestly doll, sometimes I want to kiss you all over.” “Don’t hold back.”

The words had come out of your mouth before you could stop them. They didn’t remotely sound as teasing or nonchalant as you had meant them to. They sounded sincere, almost desperate. Because they were. And suddenly, as you watched Bucky’s expression falter, you felt remarkably sober again. Oh god.

Part 2

Carefully, Bucky stood up, moved over and sat down next to you. “Are you serious about this, (Y/N)?”

Heat crept up your skin, all the way from the swells of your breasts to your ears. You’d honestly never felt that put on the spot. Unable to answer, your gaze fixed the carpet, hoping that if you stared long enough, maybe it would do you a favor and swallow you whole. Bucky was now less than inch from you, close enough for you to smell his shampoo, his breath fanning the side of your face, making things only worse for you. Your heart sank deeper and deeper until you could feel it in your stomach, heavy like a rock. This day had been going so well. Why did you have to ruin it with your stupid inebriated brain? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And then you felt his flesh hand cup your face, softly turning your head to meet his eyes. Those beautiful, cerulean eyes. “Because I’d really, really like to kiss you.” Frowning, you shook your head, your synapses refusing to process that bit of information. You swallowed several times before you found your voice again. “Please don’t mess with me, Bucky”, you heard yourself whisper, at which Bucky violently shook his head. “I promise.” And then his lips were on yours and you kissed him back.

It started out innocently enough, slow, tentative kisses, allowing the other to back out in case they changed their mind. Only that he didn’t back out like you thought he would. And you didn’t back out like he thought you would. Realizing how effortlessly your mouths pressed against each other, how right his lips felt on yours, you gradually grew bolder. You turned slightly to mirror his position and your hands went up to his face, feeling the stubble on his chin and jaw before carding through the silky strands of his locks at the back of his neck. One hand in his hair, you let the other explore more of his body as you felt up his biceps, his back, his chest abs. A content hum escaped his throat which only spurred you on. One hand in his hair and one bunching up the fabric covering his chest, you pressed yourself closer to him. His grip on your face tightened as he opened his mouth and his tongue caressed your bottom lip. Greedily, you welcomed him in your mouth and let out a deep sigh as your tongues met for the first time and the two of you fought for dominance over the other.

Bucky’s hands wandered down your body to the hem of your shirt and his lips soon followed suit. You let out a whimper when he sucked at the sensitive skin of your pulse point, determined to mark you. You’d never really liked hickeys, but this was different. You wanted everyone to see, see what had happened between the two of you. While your hands tangled in his hair, his slowly made their way under the fabric of your sweater, exploring the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your belly, cool on your right side, burning on your left.

It was so much more than you’d ever dreamed of, almost too much to bear, and yet his touches only made you more impatient, more needy, more desperate to have him. “Bucky…” It was barely more than a sigh, but Bucky’s head shot up at the sound and his eyes met yours. “What’s it, sweetheart? Talk to me” You took a moment to take him in, tracing his glistening bottom lip with your thumb. “I need you.” Bucky pressed his forehead against yours. “I need you too, doll. So much. That’s why I’m so scared of messing up with you.” You took his face in your hands again and pressed a kiss to his forehead, his eyes closing at the sensation. “There’s no way in hell you can mess up with me, James. Don’t hold back. Take me.” Bucky let out a shuddering breath. “Please.”

It was like a switch had been flicked. Bucky leapt forward and buried you under his weight, making you sink into the soft cushions. Kissing you even more passionately than before, he positioned himself between your legs. The bulge in his pants now clearly noticeable, he started grinding down on you and the friction made you pool with lust. You let out an audible groan that made Bucky’s cock twitch. Steadying himself with his metal hand, he clumsily lifted your shirt up your body with his right hand so the fabric bunched up over your breasts. Eager to assist, you arched your back to unclasp your bra and pulled it up as well. Bucky’s hand immediately reached out to palm the newly exposed skin while his tongue darted out to massage your already swollen buds. He went from left to right and right to left, making you stick your chest out as much as you could, before suddenly taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking greedily on it. You cried out in pleasure and his dark eyes went to scan your face, lip drawn in between your teeth, eyes pressed shut, your breathing getting heavier by the minute. Too mesmerized by the sight of you, he didn’t notice your hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair move from his back to the front of his pants until you massaged his erection through the fabric, running your palm up and down his impressive bulge. He let go of your breast to take a deep breath and used his right hand to feverishly rub your clothed pussy, causing you to yelp in surprise. Your hand gripped his wrist, urging him to slow down. “Don’t want to finish off like that. Need you inside me.”

Bucky’s answer was an appreciative growl. He stood up, freeing himself first from the sweater that was becoming increasingly hot and then from his jeans and boxers. His size was impressive, the tip swollen and glistening with pre cum and you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together in anticipation.

“Uh-uh. Let me take care of that sweetheart.” His voice was now a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine. Agonizingly slow, he unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off you, groaning when he got a glimpse of your drenched panties. Sitting back on his haunches, he pushed your knees apart and ran his palms up the inside of your thighs, then softly ghosted over the purple cotton, before hooking his thumbs under the waistband. “Show me your pretty pussy, (Y/N).” In one swift motion, the piece of clothing was gone, and Bucky let out a low hiss at the sight of your wet folds. “Fuck, doll. You’re ven more beautiful than I imagined.” You were at a complete loss for words, but Bucky didn’t give you time to respond anyway. He took a hold of his erection and coated in in your juices, your overstimulated body jumping at the sensation, before locking eyes with you and carefully sliding his tip inside you. You both let out a needy whimper when he filled you up, going deeper and deeper, your pussy obediently swallowing him, until he bottomed out.

Bucky was still on his haunches, giving you time to adjust to him, intertwining his fingers with yours. “You okay?” You nodded. “You can move.” Bucky started thrusting in and out of you, accelerating his pace when it became obvious that you were in as much pleasure as he. Soon, he was mercilessly fucking you into the couch, snapping his hips forward and pulling out until just the tip remained inside you, and then repeating his actions, over and over and over again. When he used his metal hand to draw circles on your clit, you were a whimpering mess beneath him, uttering incoherent curses and multiple variations of his name. You felt the familiar sensation build up in your gut and squeezed his hand to hold off, but he wasn’t having it, only increasing his efforts. With a muffled scream, you came all over his dick, your whole body shaking from the intensity of it. The sight of you coming undone combined with your cunt convulsing around his dick pushed Bucky over the edge as well and his thrusts became sloppier as he painted your walls with his seed and then collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and bathed in sweat.

—

Your second time together was slow and gentle, taking all the time you now knew you had, making sure to leave no inch of your lover’s body unattended to. The third time was rough again, Bucky fucking you against the shower tiles, cold water pouring down on you because you’d accidentally changed the setting when Bucky had lifted you and neither of you had noticed. The times that followed took place in various places of the Tower; the pool table where Bucky had found you the day before, the kitchen island, Sam’s bed (which seemed to give him a particular kind of satisfaction), in several of Tony’s cars, at one of the panorama windows, your front against the shining outline of the city (and the fake ice crystals) while Bucky took you from behind, all the while whispering sinful things to you that drove you insane, how often he’d sat in his room fucking his fist to your image, your plump lips that were just made for his cock, your curves that made your entire body jiggle when he drove into you, that beautiful ass of yours, imagining your sweet voice begging him to make you feel good. After all, it appeared he’d thought about you as often as you had about him.

—

You woke up to a rose-tainted sky and soft kisses peppered across the back of your neck, your shoulders and along your spine. You giggled into your pillow. Bucky’s strands brushing your bare skin gave you a tickling sensation. “You’re up early.” Bucky hummed into the crook of your neck, making your skin vibrate. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about before heading out for my run.” You turned around to face him, his hair tousled, eyes still glossed over from sleep. Nobody should be allowed to look that gorgeous. “What is it?”

“Steve and Wilson will be back from their trip in a few hours and they will pester me about my crush on you and whether I’ve finally done something about it.” He rolled his eyes and your smile grew wider. “What are you going to tell them?” Bucky reached for your hand and gently squeezed it. “I’d like to tell them that I asked you out on a date and that you agreed, but that wouldn’t be entirely true, would it?” You quirked an eyebrow. “So you’re asking me for permission to lie to your best friend?” Bucky laughed at that, that kind of laugh that made his eyes crinkle. “Y/N, would you like to go out on a date with me?”

You tilted your head to the side. “Depends. Does that mean we’re gonna have to sleep in separate beds again?” Bucky raised your hand to his mouth and softly kissed your knuckles, then he stretched his head and planted a kiss on your forehead. “No way. What do you say?”

“Yes.”

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capriccio-con-espressione · 4 years

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8. What you love about yourself?

TW// Discuss of body image and favorite parts of my body in the last bit of this ask, feel free to skip if you are easily triggered by body talk.

For my personal character trait, I love the contrast that though I can be very sharp-tongued and potentially hurtful, and can be really quick-witted in terms of coming up with sharp snappy ripostes (as y’all have seen in my fics with some hardcore degradation, tho this ability can sometimes be hindered by sedatives lol), I am a softer person IRL because I don’t feel like hurting anyone unless I think it’s necessary and actually is a highly sympathetic and empathetic person towards the suffering of others. This ability can be really useful when I am having an argument with someone else, because I can be in their shoes easily and thus it’s easier to persuade when you understand what others feel.

I am thinking that maybe the reason I am this hardcore degrading in terms of sex is because IRL I believe in it’s more beneficial and more likely to achieve a win-win situation to be soft, kind and courteously persuasive toward others even when the other party has hinted harm toward me, and hence I suppress too much what I actually what to say and have to release that urge when domming someone else in bed. I may have a contradictive personality but that’s one thing I love about myself since it’s always good to surprise others when they’re not aware :))))) But really don’t make me snap IRL :))))))))))))))))))))))

Second is my ability and capability to understand and communicate and even write in English though it’s far from my mother tongue. I am satisfied that I have come this far in my current establishment of achievement and have to thank y’all again for supporting even though my English is definitely not perfect

Third is my proficiency in music. I can play the piano and the cello and am beginner level in guitar, and can sing well according to my choir teachers. My vocal range is from F3 to G6, which is the range I am satisfied with but still aspire to expand further; I remember sight-reading the first cello part of Tchaikovsky’s string sextet Souvenir de Florence mvt. IV and playing it well without obvious flaws in less than ten minutes upon receiving the score, and can memorize sheet music quickly. Now I am also working on musical arrangement, specializing in string ensembles, and have written several works for string orchestra so far. The craziest thing I have ever done is to arrange WayV’s Love Talk into piano trio version and even added an intro to it lol

Last, the two physical traits I love about myself is my eyes, and though a little bit TMI, my tits. I like my long eyelashes and the shade of dark brown of my eyes, and the proportion of them on my face even though my visual acuity actually sucks. And I think my boobs are nicely sized, shaped and proportioned as well because of the pec workout I am doing.

51 Questions Ask Game

#asks #ask game #skylxr-lycxn

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descendantofthesparrow · 5 years

Text

Harry Hook x Reader - turned.

Izabelfireheart on wattpad

Can you do one when it takes place in D2 plz? (The reader is King Ben's sister, and Ben has to give up the wand and the crown to save her, but while being kisnapped she falls in love with Harry. When Ben comes he realizes that she became more like Uma, and could care less for Auradon Prep. Can includes Lemon IF you write those, and sorry if this is tmi

You couldn’t care less for the people or places around you, it had been boring and straight since you were born, nothing wild, no rule-breaking, no frowns, no nothing.

The arrival of the core four had made Auradon prep interesting, but that faded as they became more like the sheep around you, abandoning their fellow vks for a soft pillow.

Ben, your brother, had also abandoned his ‘bring over vks once every two months’ plan, preferring to tend to his “perfect” girlfriend Mal.

Perfect HA! Mal was less than perfect, she obviously was super uncomfortable with the entire ‘lady of the court thing’ and wanted out, she hated the paparazzi, the clothes, the manners, the hair, which was now bleached blonde with lavender tips.

And you were the only one she told personally about her troubles and wants to return to the isle, you didn’t discourage her, only saying “do you really want to return to the isle, or do you want to be free of this royalty bullshit?”

She hadn't responded, and when she left for the isle only two days away from cotilion, you weren't surprised.

What did surprise you was when ben burst into your room, begging for you to come with him to the isle to help get mal back.

You had an odd feeling, so you agreed, grabbing your casual clothes, which evie blinked at, you shrugged her off, you had a natural isle style apparently.

It took about an hour to get to the isle, and you had basically wandered off as soon as you had arrived at the hideout, noticing that your “friends” were distracted, you walked off, soon being run into by a set of kids, trying to get into your messenger bag, but you easily pushed them away, wincing at you felt the boniness of the children.

One fell to the ground and the other stood in front of his fallen friend, glaring at you, daring to try anything else.

You sighed, reaching into your bag and pulling out one of your tiaras, and kneeling down, holding it out to the child. Both of their eyes widened, seeing your true smile and the definitely real blue diamonds on the golden tiara.

“go on” you whispered, holding the tiara closer to the child “take it, I don’t need it”

The dirt-covered child stood up from the ground, walking around his friend and slowly taking the tiara, gasping as he saw a poster with your face on it, recognizing you.

“you- your prin-“ you held a finger up to your lips, shushing the awestruck child.

“don’t tell anyone im here, now, go get yourself some food okay?”

The two children nodded, grinning slightly and rushed off, hiding the tiara in their larger jackets.

“that wa’ kind of yeh lass” a thick Scottish voice spoke up from your right, you calmly stood and looked at him, raising your brow at the…

Holy fuck REALLY PRETTY DUDE WTF!

You felt your face heat up, wow, wow,wowowowow!

“okay first off, its kinda my thing, second off, holy FUCK you're pretty!”

The boy with the scarlet red jacket snickered and ruffled his floofy black hair, his cheeks red. “uh, thanks? Anyway, me captain would like teh see ya princess”

You smirked, feeling the heat from your face cool down and you jutted your hip out and placed your hand on it.

“oh? And who would your captain be Mr?” you saw the glint of a silver hook “Hook?” the obvious son of captain hook sniggered, bowing slightly

“my name would be harry hook princess, and meh captain would be uma d-“ you interrupted him, now getting excited.

“daughter of Ursula, mal told me about her”

Harry's eyes went dark, crossing his arms and becoming tense “oh? And wha’ did she tell yeh?”

You rolled your eyes and waved your hand “a bunch of bullshit that I didn’t care for, I never take second-hand info about a person I've never met”

Harry relaxed, nodding “alright, now, my captain?” you nodded, walking up to the boy and standing in front of him, staring into his surprisingly bright ocean blue eyes, where those emerald green flakes in his eyes?

He offered his arm with a grin, and you took it with a giggle and a smile.

You didn’t hear your brother or evie call for you, and you didn’t hear one of Harry's crew members inform them for mal to meet uma at the chip shop for a negotiation.

Harry led you to the ship, smirking as you gave a wow at the vessel, for some reason, he just wanted to look at you for hours, and listen to you talk and ramble.

He shook those feelings and wants away, showing you around the main deck and smiling at you as you explored.

“never seen a pirate ship before princess?”

You turned and smiled, making Harry's heart skip a beat, what the hell is happening to him?!

“You can call me (y/n), I never liked that title anyway, and no, I've never seen a pirate ship, they are all sunken to the ocean floor”

As you looked around the ship, you stopped at harrys sword, the red fabric wrapped around the hilt making your raise your brow.

“you sword fight?” you asked, making Harry's brows go up,

“yeah, im a pirate, kinda a requirement?”

You hummed, shrugging off your jacker and letting it drop from the floor, seeing Harry's Adam's apple bob, his pupils dilated.

“wanna spar? I need something to fight”

Harry grinned, walking to a barrel and grasping a sword, and tossing it to you. you caught it with ease, flipping it as you did.

“lets play (y/n)”

The two of you clashed for a little bit, easily matching the other as you fought, he swiped for your torso, you dodged, and he sent his palm at your torso, sending you to the floor.

He knelt down over you, sword above your neck. “ready to surrender princess~?”

You smirked, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his neck and torso, flipping yours and Harry's positions, you on top, his face pressed against your thigh, face red and eyes wide.

“nah~”

A slow loud clapping sounded from behind you, you stood up, turning to see a girl with teal braided hair, a pirates hat on her head.

Uma.

“impressive princess~ Harrys hard to beat”

You smiled standing, retrieving your jacket in the prosses, making uma blink in surprise as you greeted her as if she hadn't just ordered a kidnapping on you “You must be uma, a pleasure to meet ya”

Uma looked at you up and down, she thought Harry had full-on kidnapped you, but it seemed you had come willingly.

“now, harry says that you wanted something with me? uma steeled herself, standing tall and strutting up to her, putting on her best killer gaze, but you didn’t flinch meeting her gaze evenly.

“yes, you…for the wand and crown”

You blinked a few times, surprised at her bluntness before you busted out laughing, making uma drop her face and harry look at you in confusion.

“oh-my-god-!!! You-you want the wand?! Ben would have been a much better hostage!”

You continued to laugh before gaining your breath, grinning sadly as you looked to the ground “im the second born, no one really gives a fuck about me, the crowned king is alive and well, the princess isn't needed”

Uma stared at you in surprise, she wasn’t expecting that mini-rant from an Auradon rat.

“I don’t give a crap about Auradon though, so its an even trade”

You laughed coldly “I hope for your sake, ben cares enough to bring the wand, seeing the isle today” you paused sneering slightly “made me pissed off, you are all CHILDREN, you did nothing wrong! You shouldn’t have to pay the price for your parent's wrongdoings, and ben has ignored that for six months”

Uma stared at you, before deciding something, she walked up to you holding her hand out, you blinked at it in surprise, looking at uma confused.

“It seems we have a common goal, you want freedom and justice for the wrongly accused vks, and I want the same, what do ya say princess (y/n)? are you on my side”

You smirked, grabbing onto umas outstretched hand holding it up in the air, tightly gripping it.

“I’ll rally with you” ---

Harry felt his heart beat faster as uma told him to keep (y/n) in his room for the night, as no one dared to go in there unless with order or permission, (y/n) would be protected there.

“so, uh, meh room?”

Harry gestured to his midsized room, slightly embarrassed at the clothes strewn about the room, he quickly started to pick them up, tossing them in a hamper.

Wait, why did he care? He had multiple other people in his room before, and he didn’t give a single fuck about what they thought about his room.

So why?

Sighing he turned to look at (y/n) again, locking his ocean blue eyes with her bright and curious (e/c) ones.

His breath hitched and his heart skipped another beat.

Oh shit.

Was he- no not that fast- but he definitely-

“Harry?” oh god her voice, just her voice was making his heart go crazy. What was wrong with him?! “yea~-“ oh god did his voice just crack?! He cleared his throat as (y/n) smiled and giggled lightly “yeah lass?”

“I really need to do something physical, wanna do it?”

Harry choked, stumbling into his dresser, wide-eyed at the supposed ‘princess’ his face started to heat up.

“i-you-wha-bu-“

You interrupted Harry's babbling, your own face heating up. “I wanna say something, in the short amount of time we've known each other, I've felt a connection I've never felt before, so if ‘this’” you gestured between you harry and the bed, making harry swallow harshly and nod. “happens, I want to make something clear if you maybe want to pursue something after that, I wouldn’t say no.”

Harry stared at you as you started to fidget. he stayed silent, figuring out what you had just said.

You wanted to have sex with him

You said you wouldn’t mind seeing where your…releationship would go after it

You felt a connection with him….just as he felt a connection to you.

Harry breathed deeply, closing his eyes for a few moments, before opening them, staring into your bright eyes.

He stalked forward, pressing his lips to yours, pressing against his door, you moaned, feeling around for the lock, clicking it you moved your hands to wrap around his neck and thread your fingers in his thick hair.

Harry unbuckled his belt, tossing it across the room, before shrugging off his jacket and pressing his hardening core to yours.

He broke away from you, spit keeping the two of you connected, breath heavy and hearts beating fast.

“let's take this to the bed shall we?”

You nodded, breathing heavily.

Harry picked you up by your thighs, walking over to his bed and setting you down, laying his body on top of yours, griding slightly.

Harry let out a grunt, pleasure shooting up his spine, as you let out high pitched sighs.

“w-wait!” harry stopped, pulling away, a good 8 inches between you.

“did yeh change yer mind?”

“n-no I just wanted-im a virgin”

Harry blinked, before smiling softly, leaning down to give your cheek a soft kiss.

“ill be gentle”

---the end(not writing the full smut, my dads home)---

There will be a part 2, taking place in d3

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harryhook #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #slight lemon at the end #but not a full one #request #love at first sight

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