#essie 🎨

[intrepidacious]

aaaahh thank you so much essie 😭🥰 i do love my steamy scenes with a side of fluff so of course he's focused on nothing else 🤭

i might’ve watched pride and prejudice (2005) last night and that scene (we all know which one) still lives rent free in my head…

so for your sunday drabbles, maybe bucky + carriage ride? i’ll leave it to you re: fluff, angst, or spicy 🧡 ty ilysm

plenty implied | b.b.

a/n: this got a lot spicier than i'd anticipated but anyway 🫠

"Shhh," Bucky murmured, his voice a low rumble against your thigh as you trembled, "you need to be quiet, my love."

You tried your best to scowl at him, but there was only so much you could manage before you had to stifle another moan with your hand, your eyes rolling back.

The carriage continued bumping through the magnificent landscapes you hadn’t cared to take a look at; the curtains were drawn as your future husband continued to eat you out like you were his last meal on earth. His wicked tongue had already teased you to release once, but today he appeared insatiable; he pried your legs even farther apart in an attempt to get closer to your core, his long fingers digging into your flesh, never once venturing closer to where you needed him most.

A bump in the road jostled you both and a whine escaped you as he groaned against your clit, your heels digging into his shoulder blades to press him closer, closer, until that coil inside you snapped and you finally tumbled over the edge again; he held you through it, gently lapping at your cunt until the stimulation became too much to bear.

"Why, milady," he grinned, licking his lips as he sat back on his heels, "you look positively ravished."

"You are a fiend," you panted, already dreading having to rearrange your sweaty skirts in an attempt to not appear completely debauched upon exiting his father’s carriage; Bucky just grinned sweetly as he caught your hand to press a kiss into your palm before he sat down on the seat opposite you once again as if nothing world-shattering had happened at all.

[horizon-verizon]

I adore you drives into house Martell/Dorne and they not being poc. As a fanfiction writter and a woman who studies in college the medieval history of the iberian peninsula I try to Stay Away from writting house Martell fics because I do not believe they are poc the way fandom describes them (especially not as dark skinned) but I fear the backlash.

But I add my two cents to it because I feel the need to say it. (Sorry you'll be the one getting it)

I think the smallfolk around certain parts of Dorne are poc. Not the nobility. Nymeria and her descendents intermarried with the Andals many times. And if all dorne nobility is poc... How is Aegon V (grandson of Myriah Martell and son of Dyanna Dayne) isn't? Or his siblings. We meet all the men - no sign of a different "Race" in any of them.

I'm a little confused by this ask, ngl. You lost me here:

I think the smallfolk around certain parts of Dorne are poc. Not the nobility. Nymeria and her descendents intermarried with the Andals many times.

If the peasants, as you say, are PoC bc the Rhoynar female soldiers intermarried w/Andal-First Men Dornish people...are you saying they did with both Dornish peasant men AND nobles? Or they only did with peasants? If the latter, that wouldn't make much sense bc the petty nobles around or those "vassals"/oathed to the Martells at the time Nymeria arrived wouldn't go umarried to any of her soldiers, therefore we'd be forced to say that yes some nobles are PoC...and only if we assume that the Martells have become as PoC as them since Nymeria married Mors.

So it sounds like you're just saying that they, the nobility, are PoC.

A)

from GRRM's blog:

GRRM doesn't distinguish b/t peasants and nobility when it comes him saying that he imagined them as more Mediterranean than African in appearance (and he's talking the white Med, not North Africans or Middle Easterners).

This is amok's Oberyn:

And this is the Magali Villeneuve's Arianne Martell:

B)

If you're implying that there were still a few Rhoynar female soldier who married the smaller number of male Rhoynar male soldiers while the others married the Andal Dornish nobles (whether they be petty lords or the "high" lords), yeah it's possible some peasants--and a few here and there to this current time period of the main series--are what we'd call "PoC" if they lived amongst us.

But Dornish people, peasant or noble, are still monolithic to the people we'd call "white"/"BR/Germanic/NorthWestern European" white--the nonDornish Westerosi. Even they cannot be said to be PoC within the relationship of the Dornish to the Westerosi I described and discussed HERE.

Not all soldiers or warriors were peasants; some were/would be petty nobles, we simply don't have the details. A few of those female Dornish women could have married actually peasant soldiers and in the U.S. system of race, those kids' be considered "PoC", and so on so on. But this isn't the U.S.

🎨: NUTCHAPOL THITINUNTHAKO

Even if you are a Salty Dornish [3] (the Martells), a Stony Dornish [1] (the paler ones closest to the border b/t Dorne and the rest/the Dornish Marches), or a Sandy Dornish [2], the nonDornish people actively think of them all as "Dornish" and are xenophobic to all of them. We have seen no canon different behavior towards the paler stony Dornish.

We also don't know where exactly in Dorne Sylvenna Sand (a peasant) was from or what she looked like, but she was known as Dornish and the "laws" that Gaemon Palehair/his mother Essie laid out in KL are thought to have come from Sylvenna's background and closeness influencing those laws to protect women. Those Gyldayn calls "outrageous":

Skin color is definitely something these nonDornish make to orientalize or fetishize some Dornish people or to identify them bc you do find the darkest kind tones more in Dorne than anywhere else. But again, some Dornish people (and I mean entire populations) are pale, have the accents, may even practice male primogeniture but are still subject to xenophobia from nonDornish people in text.

And if all dorne nobility is poc... How is Aegon V (grandson of Myriah Martell and son of Dyanna Dayne) isn't? Or his siblings. We meet all the men - no sign of a different "Race" in any of them.

The Daynes are the paler "stony" Dornish.

Aegon was also never going to be considered PoC or Dornish or Dornish adjacent bc he came out with pale skin, violet eyes, and silverish-goldish hair.

And he is not a Dornish-raised person, but was born and raised outside of Dorne in the royal family.

So yeah.

[did-i-do-this-write]

For Paragon, how about 🎀 and ‍🎨 please! -Essie

Thank you for the ask, Essie! I appreciate you playing this little ask game with me 😄

🎀 [Bow] How many named characters are in this WIP? How many do get a POV?‍

Rough estimate, I think there's about 20 named characters. And the main team is made up of seven characters, who all get POV at least a couple times each :D

🎨 [Palette] If your WIP was a color, which color would it be?

I always associate Paragon with oranges, reds, and yellows because the main character can control fire XD

This ask motivated me to write 105 words for a prompt request.

Experiment Total: 75,778

[callofthxvoid]

🎨 Amirah "Ames" Shehadi - 24 y/o - 5'9" - FC: Jihane Almira Chedid [ BIO ] 🍔 Celia de la Luna - 35 y/o - 5'6" - FC: Ana de Armas [ BIO ] 🩹 Dahlia Cruz-Dutton - 37 y/o - 5'7" - FC: Shay Mitchell [ BIO ] 🎮 Esperanza "Essie" Calloway - 25 y/o - 5'1" - FC: Becky G [ BIO ] 💸 Fleur Villiers - 25 y/o - 5'5" - FC: Paris Berelc [ BIO ] 🐈‍⬛ Georgette "Georgie" Hicks - 23 y/o - 5'1" - FC: Antonia Gentry [ BIO ] 🍎 Imogen Griffiths - 39 y/o - 5'6" - FC: Natalie Dormer [ BIO ] 💊 Julianne "Julie" Davenport - 21 y/o - 5'5" - FC: Natalie Alyn Lind [ BIO ] 🔍 Karma Free - 27 y/o - 5'4" - FC: Zoey Deutch [ BIO ] 🚔 Leila Williams - 38 y/o - 5'4" - FC: Candice Patton [ BIO ] 🎊 Marisol de la Luna - 18 y/o - 5'1" - FC: Isabela Merced [ BIO ] ✨ Minnie Garcia - 28 y/o - 5'2" - FC: Dove Cameron [ BIO ] 💰 Nadia Shehadi - 30 y/o - 5'6" - FC: Pinar Deniz [ BIO ] 🎀 Paisley Pardeshi - 19 y/o - 5'8" - FC: Avantika [ BIO ] 🖊️ Rosa Milovanovic - 28 y/o - 5'5" - FC: Emilija Baranac [ BIO ] 🌟 Scarlette Albright - 30 y/o - 5'6" - FC: Chloe Bennet [ BIO ] 🧨 Trixie Vos - 32 y/o - 5'6" - FC: Skyler Samuels [ BIO ] 🌳 Valeria "Val" Moreno - 24 y/o - 5'3" - FC: Maia Reficco [ BIO ] 🏗️ Veronica "Vero" de la Luna - 32 y/o - 5'9" - FC: Bianca Santos [ BIO ] 🔬 Zarina Knightley - 28 y/o - 5'5" - FC: Kat McNamara [ BIO ]

[intrepidacious]

when i say i need him biblically i'm not exaggerating

A Cornucopia for You!

From: @levans44

Ransom Drysdale; secret dating, hand kink, size kink; bookstore, academia; smut

You came here all the time, a small bookstore just off campus that held a few copies of books that the library didn’t. And, of course, some novels you’d purchase here and there for your own private reading collection. It was your haven, your safe space, a place where your heart beat slower despite the iced coffee you’d sip as you skimmed though pages at your usual table.

Except, something was distracting you out of the corner of your eye. The gold glint of a pinky ring attached to a big hand holding an old leather-bound book. Thick and surprisingly nimble fingers flipped the pages, although you knew that wasn’t a reading pace, and when you looked up, icy blue eyes weren’t even on the novel. They were on you.

Your cheeks instantly grew warm and your thighs pressed together on instinct as you pushed yourself out of your chair. Perhaps a walk through the aisles would be good to help you cool down, except your racing heartbeat had you moving swiftly. You looked behind you to make sure no one had followed just as you had reached the end of a shelf. As you turned the corner you were abruptly stopped by a wall.

Except…it was actually a chest. A broad, firm chest, covered in a sweater. The one you wore last week when you might’ve made him breakfast in his dorm while his roommates were out.

In a blink, your back was pressed up against the stacks, a warm hand brushing up the stocking on your thigh, reaching the bare skin under your skirt. You threw your head back, eyes threatening to flutter shut, but your logical brain was fighting to stay at the surface.

“Ransom. What are you doing here?” Your whisper was bordering on a little too loud.

He smirked so slyly, his eyebrow raising in tandem with a shrug. “Missed you, Princess. That a crime? Plus you look so cute when you wear your reading glasses.”

Your hand darted to his wrist as his finger began to trace over your slit in your cotton panties.

“No, but public indecency is. And I thought we couldn’t risk anyone seeing us together. Not yet at least.”

His presence was looming and you couldn’t deny that your stomach did a delightful swoop at the way he caged you in. The way you could tell his fiery blue eyes wanted you so badly. Which is why you didn’t contest as he pushed the gusset aside and slid a thick finger into your slick entrance as his head fell into your neck and he placed a gentle kiss to your collarbone.

“Right now, I don’t care if anybody sees. I just want you.”

i have so many questions!!!! why are we hiding 🥺 is he telling us the truth? maybe he never thought he'd go public and was fully intending on this being a secret one-sided thing and then he caught feelings??

"princess" is killing me, ugh ransom big hand signet ring EYE CONTACT??? i love him obsessed and confronting his feelings >:3

ty @bigtreefest, your cornucopias are bringing me so much joy!!! i hope u are having just as much fun writing and sharing them!!! and thank you @levans44 for the gift 🥺💕💕 mwah mwah you're all so dear to me

[killmondaygames]

Get to know the team behind Killmonday Games in our blog series "The Story Behind" 💬 Let us introduce our 2D and 3D artist Essi! 🦖🎨 📝Read the full story here: 👉 https://killmondaygames.com/?p=5161

[nobodysystem]

🎨✅

🎨 How do you feel about fanart?

95% fine which i guess is probably a good thing. it being wildly divergent from us mostly makes us go haha thats not right (rolling eyes smile emoji) and the only exceptions are, like, localized down to one or two people

for whatever reason "haha that's not right" is easily most pronounced on other peoples art of the bachelor, which i guess reflects that we're used to seeing essie p fanart but do not get as many reminders that danko is a real video game character who exists outside our head, as well as the obvious issue that most people do not exactly draw him as a goth girl

✅ What does the fandom usually get right?

we're so good at complaining and so bad at expressing contentment and have such limited exomemories but to be honest people mostly get... the broad strokes fine? we've never had any moments of seeing someone else's specific headcanons and going oh my god, you GET it but having sharp moments of "lol you're wrong i wouldn't ever do that" (or whatever) isnt the majority of our experiences with fan content either. idk :shrug:

[trascapades]

🖤🎨#ArtIsAWeapon

Thank you @RichardBeaversGallery for compiling this list of Black-owned art galleries!

UJAMAA

BLACK OWNED ART GALLERIES

Compiled by Richard Beavers Gallery, December 2022

Above Art Studios, NJ | @aboveartstudios

Addis Fine Art, LDN | @addisfineart

Anderson Brickler Gallery, FL | @andersonbricklergallery

Annie’s Art Gallery, MD | @anniesartgallery

Anthony Gallery, IL | @galleryanthony

Artlanta Gallery, GA | @artlantagallery

Akwaaba Gallery, NJ | @akwaabagallery

Arnika Dawkins, GA | @arnikadawkins

Art Lead Her, NY | @artleadher

Art for the Soul Gallery, MA | @artforthesoulgallery

Art of Noize, DC | @artofnoizedmv

Art Melanated, CA | @artmelanated

Astah’s Art Gallery, NJ | @astahsartgallery

Axiom Fine Art Gallery, LA | @axiomartgallery

Band of Vices, CA | @bandofvices

Baar Art, | @barartjourney

Bill Hodges Gallery, NY | @billhodgesgallery

Bisong Art Gallery, TX | @bisongart

Black Artists+Designers Guild | @badguild

Black Art In America, GA | @blackartinamerica_

Black Gotham, NY | @blackgotham

Black Wall Street Gallery, NY | @bws.gallery

BlkMrkt, NC | @blkmrktclt

Boom Concepts, PA | @boom_concepts

Bridge Art Gallery, DE | @bridgeartgallery

Calabar Gallery, NY | @calabargallery

Cane Roots Art Gallery, USVI | @canerootsartgallery

Carter Fine Art Services | @carterfineart

Chela Mitchell Gallery, DC | @chelamitchellgallery

Ciera Britton Gallery, NY | @cierrabrittongallery

Cindy Rucker Gallery, NY | @ruckergallery

Curtiss Jacobs Gallery, NY | @curtissjacobsgallery_harlem

Dada Art Gallery, LDN | @thedadagallery

Daisha Board Gallery, TX | @daishaboardgallery

Dominque Gallery, CA | @dominique.gallery

Dorsey’s Art Gallery, NY | @dorseysfineartgallery

Dupp & Swat, NC | @duppandswat

E&S Gallery, KY | @eandsgallery

Essie Green Gallery, NY | @essie.green.gall

11:Eleven Gallery, DC | @11eleven_gallery

5 Points Art Gallery & Studios, WI | @5ptsartgallery

Galerie Myrtis, MD | @galeriemyrtis

Gallery 90220, CA | @gallery90220

Gallery Chuma, SC

Gallery Guichard, IL | @gallery_guichard

Gallery Kendra Jayne Patrick, NY | @gallerykendrajaynepatrick

Ground Floor Gallery, NY | @groundfloorbk

Hausen, NY | @welcometohausen

Hannah Traore Gallery, NY | @hannahtraoregallery

Harper Galleries of Art, MI | @harpergoaai

Hearne Fine Art, AR | @hearnefineart

HMAAC, TX | @houstonmaac

Homme DC, DC | @homme_dc

Housing, NY | @housingny

Jac Forbes Gallery, CA | @jacforbes

Jenkins Johnson, NY | @jenkinsjohnsongallery

Johnathan Carver Moore, CA | @johnathancarvermoore

June Kelly Gallery, NY | @junekellygallery

KAWD Art Gallery, LA | @kawdartgallery

Kente Royal Gallery, NY | @kente_royal_gallery

Knowhere, MA | @knowhereart

Left of Center Art Gallery, NV | @leftofcentergallery

Legendary Art Gallery, IL | @legendaryartgallery

Long Gallery, NY | @longgallery

Mackey Twins Art Gallery, NY | @mackeytwinsart

Mahogany Gallery, WI | @mahoganygallery

Mariane Ibrahim Gallery, IL | @marianeibrahimgallery

Martyr Sauce, WA | @martysauce

Medium Tings, NY | @mediumtings

Mehari Sequar Gallery, DC | @meharisequargallery

Mitochondria Gallery, TX | mitochondria.gallery

Moody Jones Gallery, PA | @moodyjonesgallery

Muse GR, MI | @mymusegr

Nicola Vassell Gallery | @nicolavassellgallery

N’Namdi Center for Conetemporary Art, MI | @nnamdicenter

N’Namdi Contemporary, FL | @nnamdi_gallery

Neema Gallery, SC | @neemagallery

NoName Gallery, PA | @nonamegalleryphilly

Norwest Gallery of Art, MI | @norwestgallery

Overdue Recognition Gallery, MD | @overduerecognitionart

Peg Alston Fine Arts, NY | @pegalston

Pencil on Paper Gallery, TX | @pencilonpapergallery

Prizm Art Fair, FL | @prizm

Residency Art Gallery, CA | @residencyart

RichesArt Gallery and Studio, TX | @richesartgallery

Richard Beavers Gallery, Brooklyn

Richard Beavers Gallery, Soho | @richardbeaversgallery

Rush Arts Philanthropic, PA | @rushartphilly

Sabree’s Gallery of the Arts, GA | @sabreesgallery

September Gray Fine Art, GA | @septembergrayart

SK ArtSpace, NY | @sk.ArtSpace

Skoto Gallery, NY | @skoto_gallery

Stella Jones Gallery, LA | @stellajonesgallery

Superposition, CA | @superpositiongallery

Terrance Osbourne Gallery, LA | @terranceosborne

The Bishop Gallery, NY | @thebishopgallery

The Compound Gallery, NY | @compoundgallery

The Heath Gallery, NY | @heathgallery

The Sold Firm, DE | @thesoldfirm

The Spite Haus, PA | @thespitehaus

Thelma Harris Gallery, CA | @thelmaharrisgallery

Tripoli Gallery, NY | @tripoligallery

Urban Art Gallery, PA | @urbanartgallery

Wa Na Wari, WA | @wanawariseattle

Waller Gallery, MD | @wallergallery

WaterKolours Fine Art Gallery, TN

Welancora, NY | @welancora

Worth Gallery, | @worth_gallery

Youth Concept Gallery, FL | @youthconceptgallery

Zimstone Gallery, DC | @jeffbrown_zimstonegallery

ZuCot Gallery, GA | @zucotgallery

#BlackOwnedArtGalleries

#BlackArtGalleries #BlackGallerists #BlackArt #BlackArtists #BlackGirlArtGeeks #BlackArtLovers #BlackArtCollectors

[intrepidacious]

woooo congrats!!! <3

Essie’s 500 Follower Thank You For Being A Friend Cornucopia Event🦃🍗🌽🥔🍁🍾🌰🥧🥳🥰

Thank you all so much for 500 followers!! In celebration of this milestone, as well as my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, join me in my appreciation of you!! Send a cornucopia to a friend or request one for yourself!!

This will be a bouquet-style event, similar to that run by @thezombieprostitute where I will be writing small blurbs about our favorite babes per your request!! That’s right! You send me what you’d like and I’ll make it!!! How exactly does that work? I’m glad you asked! Rules and regulations below:

How to Join:

- Fill out this google form to request your babe blurb cornucopia!!

- Keeping with the Thanksgiving theme, fill your plate/basket with all your favorite things so I can put them together and gift them to you!

- This event will take place between now and end when the form will close on Sunday, December 1, although written requests may be released after that.

Cornucopia Request Masterlist

Other bits of info and rules:

- you can send these as gifts to other people!! Make sure to list your username (unless you’d like to remain anonymous) as well as the username of who you would like to gift it to so that they get sent their gift!!

- you can request anonymously, but I ask that you be considerate of my time and writing ability, as well as others who are requesting. Please refrain from sending more than one ask for yourself unless I make a statement opening up the requests for more, but send as many gifts to others as you’d like! Anonymous requests will be posted on my own page.

- feel free to chose more than one from any of the categories in the form!! The more the merrier, but also keep in mind I can only fit so much into a blurb

- I reserve the right to not fulfill any requests at my own discretion. There are no guarantees of a timeline for when each ficlet will be released or if special requests can be filled

- feel free to reach out to me with any questions, and again, thank you so much for being a friend, supporter, follower, and a beautiful person for celebrating this milestone with me!!😘

[intrepidacious]

For seven sentence holiday : Andy Barber + Getting snowed in

no place to go | a.b.

a/n: siiighh we are yearning for domestic comfort tonight

"Honey, I have to go."

"Hmmmm no," you mumble, blindly reaching for Andy’s shirt to pull him closer again, his beard tickling your cheek as he chuckles, "you can’t go."

He makes a low "oomph" as you roll on top of him, pinning him down on the bed as his hands come to rest around your waist. "I need to go to work," he reminds you, voice muffled against your lips, feebly attempting to stop your attempts to undo his buttons again, "and I’m already late because the car’s stuck under a snowbank."

"No can do," you say with a yawn, "'m too cozy right now so you should call and say we’re snowed in."

The silence that follows is long enough to let you know you’ve won before he lets out a long, amused sigh, pressing his forehead against yours, "Fine, but I’m gonna need another cup of coffee."

Apparently, your old man’s ears are still good enough to hear you mutter something about his age underneath your breath, because it gets you a slap on the thigh that makes you giggle loud enough to wake up; fine, maybe you can compromise on breakfast before going back to bed.

[intrepidacious]

Seven sentence holiday: Jake Jensen + picking out a Christmas tree in the cold

make this christmas right | j.j.

a/n: i don't officially write for jake because i've only watched this movie once so idk if it's in character at all but i had fun writing it <3

"I don’t know about this, Jake," you stage-whispered against another icy blast of wind; snow flakes were dancing wildly through the air, and you had to squint to even see your boyfriend in his stupidly thin black sweatshirt, measuring up the pine tree in front of him.

"Yeah, this isn’t working," he replied, tilting his head, "this tree’s way too small, right?"

You sighed, trudging after him through the snow, "I don’t think either of us can carry a bigger one. Besides, I don’t think this is legal," you added, even though that argument was the last thing that would work on him; it was the first Christmas the two of you would be celebrating with his sister and his niece, who was eleven now, and Jake had gotten it into his head that he had to go full north pole candy cane winter wonderland extravaganza with it.

"Yes," he shouted now, his voice echoing through the tree farm so loudly you were surprised floodlights weren’t turned on you immediately, "this is the one for sure … yes, this one’s perfect."

"There’s no way in hell we can fit that thing through the doorway," you shook your head, smiling when he put an arm around you and kissed you on the cheek; maybe if you left enough money at the front desk, there wouldn’t be another trespassing fee.

"That seems like a later problem," he grinned, holding up the handaxe he’d brought along on your trip, "now, do you wanna do the honors?"

[intrepidacious]

A Cornucopia for You!

From: @levans44

Bucky Barnes; grumpy/sunshine, enemies to lovers; modern AU neighbors; fluff

You sat on your knees in the garden, your plush grass pairing nicely with the new petunias you were planting in rows at the corner of your house near the property line.

As you looked in front of you, you could see the way your well-treated lawn contrasted with the brown patches in that of your neighbor’s. Since he moved in, you watched as a once beautiful piece of land became a little overgrown. What confused you about it most, though, was the fact that you had never really seen him leave his house. Sure, every now and then, you’d hear the roar of a motorcycle and peek through your curtains to see the Beefcake riding away, but it was few and far between.

But the bike hadn’t left the driveway in some time, and as you looked down at the plethora of greens before you, you figured you had some to spare. Brushing your knees free of dirt and removing your gardening gloves, you decided to pay your reclusive neighbor a visit.

As you knocked on the door, you were caught by surprise when it whipped open, revealing him in all of his brooding glory. He wore a white tank, too tight for your sanity, as it clung to his abs and chest. And oh man, did he have abs for days.

You swallowed at the sight, but quickly averted your gaze to his face in response to this low grunt of, “what?”

That view wasn’t much better. The light stubble on his chiseled jaw had you fighting the urge to reach out and see if it would cut your finger.

“H-hi. I’ve got some extra petunias. I was wondering if you might want them? I-I’ll plant them if you want. I also have some lawn feeder if you’re interested. Not that your lawn is bad, it’s just, I thought I could help you care for it—not that you don’t know how to care for it! Just…”

You wanted to facepalm with the word vomit that was spilling out of your mouth, except…. the stranger started to smile, laugh lightly even. He saved you from making a further fool of yourself, too.

“I think that all sounds great, neighbor. I really appreciate it.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked out to his front yard. “Not really used to the whole ‘having my own home’ thing yet. I grew up in the city, so thank you for your offer.”

His smile had you bashfully blushing. “I’m Bucky by the way. And I just made lunch. You wanna, uh, come inside for some and we can discuss the grass that I don’t know how to take care of?”

You laughed and hid your face behind your hands. “I’m sorry about that. I told you I wasn’t assuming, though!”

He laughed at that and it was like music to your ears, as he held the door open for you and you became enveloped in the most homey aromas.

PLEASE I ABSOLUTELY ADORED THIS 😭😭 big city boy bucky!! could let me ride on his motorcycle 👉🏼👈🏼

this was such a lovely surprise omg thank you @levans44 for requesting this for me?? 🥺 and essie you're an artist omg i'm swooning !!! thank you thank you thank you 💛

[intrepidacious]

your desciption made me emotional about this all over again 🥺🥺

omg seven sentence holiday special?!?! sign me the f up!! hm, let’s seeeee…

steve rogers (bc duh it’s me) + in front of the fireplace? 🤭💕

my home for all seasons | s.r.

a/n: i intended for this to be fluffy spice but we were talking about nomad!steve and so a dash of an angsty undercurrent got in there whoops

The safe house is all the way up in the mountains, away from prying eyes and curious neighbors; it’s why you’ve been able to stay longer than usual, Steve and you, a couple of days longer even than Sam and Nat have dared after yet another Christmas away from the life you’ve once known. Just a little longer, you decide, just give it some time until the snow has the chance to start melting and the worst of the storm has passed; after all, it’s warm in here, and the view of the forest is magnificent.

It’s almost like a home, this nest you’ve built for yourselves, evenings spent curled up on the pull-out couch in front of the fireplace, the outside world and everything attached to it forgotten for just a couple of stolen moments longer.

You wake up with your limbs entangled and it’s like a dream, mouths catching sleepily, muffling all attempts at the serious conversation you don’t want to have yet; Steve’s kisses trail down your jaw, your neck, his beard deliciously scratching the soft skin of your breasts, your nails biting into his back, leaving a mark, at least for a little while.

The fire crackles and the windows fog up and he thrusts into you over and over again, gently, urgently, until you stifle your sounds against his shoulder, holding onto him with all your might.

"It’s alright," he pants, blindly searching for your lips again, "I’m here, I’ve got you."

And even though you don’t know how much longer that sentence will hold true, right now, it’s enough to send you over the edge.

[intrepidacious]

Nika! This video made me think of the Bucky carriage scene I just read of yours🫣 I choose to believe he had a good center of gravity tho👀

omg shatter my illusions why don't you 😭😭 let's pretend this is the sturdiest carriage of all time

[intrepidacious]

🥰🥰 so glad you liked it!!

a million summers

summary: Something shifts between you and Bucky when he comes back home from college.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: modern AU; childhood friends to lovers; alcohol consumption; making out; the rare occurence of me writing something that's almost exclusively fluff. please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: @allcapsbingo O1: "You've changed."

a/n: i didn't plan on posting anything today but something came over me. happy valentine's day, everyone!! this one's for @jesterstrange – remember when you sent me two songs for my sleepover and i completely ignored one of them? this is why 💛

masterlist | read on ao3

The air in the car is buzzing with late night heat and the crackling of the radio rapidly switching between stations, but you can’t seem to mind. Your heart is pounding in tune because less than two hours ago, you were kissing Bucky Barnes.

The Bucky Barnes, whose hand is currently gripping the steering wheel just a little too tightly. Valedictorian, baseball legend, first boy you ever fell in love with, prodigal third of your trio, Bucky Barnes.

Shit, if Steve found out about this, you’re not sure if he would laugh or kill both of you.

You wonder if the same thing is currently going through Bucky’s mind, because when you steal a sideways glance at him, he’s biting the inside of his lip, like he always does when he’s wrapped in thought.

It’s funny, in a way. You’ve noticed these little things about him since you were eleven years old, innocently collecting tiny facts about James Buchanan Barnes in your mind like other children kept pebbles or leaves they found on a walk. Like how his hair would stick up and begin to curl in his neck when it was about to rain. Or how he always got the first splatter of freckles in May, after months and months of them hiding away from the cold.

They’re there now, dancing across his cheekbones and down the bridge of his nose, and when the sunrise hits them at the right angle, they point out all the places you want to kiss; underneath his eye and on the tip of his nose, and, most importantly, right at the corner of his mouth, where his smile starts.

Your heart still can’t believe he’d actually let you do just that.

(He would, he would. He has.)

Your phone vibrates again and you ignore it. Reality might be on the other end, and you’re not ready for that quite yet.

There’s a slight tick in Bucky’s jaw when you peek at him again, barely noticeable to anyone who doesn’t know him quite as well as you do, and it sets your cheeks on fire. You roll the window down to feel the wind in your hair. Maybe it’ll cool your face a little.

You haven’t talked to each other at all ever since you got in the car, Bucky concentrating on the road, you counting the cars you pass. There’s not a lot of them, not at this hour, so the activity doesn’t exactly help to calm your mind, but you don’t trust your voice enough to start a conversation quite yet.

(Still, he hasn’t let go of your hand since you got in the car, either.)

It’s strange, this silence between you, not uncomfortable but unusual, because even though you’ve filled countless hours just quietly doing your own thing next to one another, it’s never been with this tension that’s making the air between you thick enough to cut.

The radio finally settles on a station, and there’s a spark of recognition at the song that manifests in Bucky squeezing your hand a little more tightly, and you finally break the silence with a quiet laugh and a warning, "Don’t."

"I didn’t say anything," Bucky says with a smile in his voice.

"Your thoughts are very loud."

"My thoughts are none of your business." He lifts your hand to his lips and presses a small kiss to your knuckles. Your breath hitches. "Besides, you were very cute."

"Slow down," you say, "I want to throw myself out of the car."

Bucky has the audacity to laugh. "Come on. Everyone had a phase in middle school."

"Everyone who knew me in middle school needs to die," you groan.

"Is that a threat, Y/L/N?"

You take in his cocky grin, tapping a finger against your chin in fake contemplation. "Maybe."

"Oh yeah?" he says, and you swear his smile grows even more crooked as you echo his words back at him.

(You want to trace it with your fingers and then taste it again.)

"So this is what we’ve come to," he says, his face exaggeratedly appalled as he shakes his head. "You’ve changed."

"I’m afraid there can’t be any exceptions," you say, squeezing his hand. "Especially not if this 'short drive over' takes much longer," you say, turning to the window again. The clouds look heavy with the reminder of rain.

Bucky rubs soft circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, and the gentleness of the action makes you press your lips together to hide the giddyness threatening to spill over. "Almost there," he says, and continues driving.

A little faster than before, maybe.

***

You’d seen this look in Bucky’s eyes before, but it’d never been directed at you. Pupils blown wide, hair sticking to his forehead, gaze unwavering and so intense you felt like you were being stripped naked in the middle of the crowd.

(And during his own homecoming party, no less.)

You forced your gaze away, trying to focus on whatever story Wanda was telling intently, but it was impossible to do anything other than nodding and humming and taking another sip of your drink whenever there was a breath for you to do so.

When you dared another glimpse in his direction, Bucky was still watching you, even though he was doing a much better job at pretending to listen, one of Steve’s arms still slung around his shoulders, his lips widening into a smile at the same time the rest of the group started to laugh while you were just out of sync with everyone else.

Not that you were staring at his lips.

It’d been so long since you’d last seen him in person. He was supposed to go off to college with Steve, but instead ended up going to an entirely different part of the country, and despite the fact that the three of you once shared every spare minute, there was only so many lagging phone calls at odd hours a friendship like the one you used to have with Bucky could take.

It broke your heart, of course, but maybe it was for the better. After all, your feelings for him had been drifting towards something different to friendship for a while at that point, something softer and more precious, something hidden away in stolen glances and late night journal entries.

Him literally being out of reach had made it easier, in a way, even though you’d never quite managed to move on from the color of his eyes.

(How could you have?)

Now, seeing him right in front of you again, they seemed so much brighter than they did in your memories; like someone had broken off two pieces of a clear summer sky and put them in the center of his face. It was honestly unfair.

You managed to steal away to the upstairs bathroom for a few minutes, not bothering to turn the light on, splashing your face with cold water to try and get a grip on. You weren’t quite drunk, but tipsy enough to recognize the light haze in your eyes as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, angling yourself in the thin strip of moonlight falling in through the window, trying to see if there was anything different about you.

Anything that Bucky might have picked up on tonight, of all nights.

There was a knock at the door, so you quickly fixed your hair with a small sigh and mentally prepared to continue the night with a smile, determined to enjoy yourself, weird and totally not heart palpitation inducing looks from former best friends be damned.

As soon as you swung the door open, though, your confidence was immediately shattered when you almost barreled into someone standing right on the other side, leaning against the frame, hands in his pockets, smile blinding.

Like he’d been waiting for you.

"Y/L/N."

(Your name still sounded like honey on his tongue.)

"Barnes." You raised your eyebrows when he didn’t move to let you pass. "Can I help you with something?"

"Maybe," he said, and then he pulled you back into the room with him, locking the door behind the two of you.

You leaned against it, arms crossed in front of your chest, swallowing heavily. Bucky hovered very close by for a moment before he retreated, pushing both hands through his hair and then hiding them in the pockets of his leather jacket.

"Right," you said, your head spinning slightly. "This isn’t ominous at all."

Bucky chuckled quietly, his eyes searching for something. "You look great," he finally said.

With a snort, you tilted your head and looked at his feet, not really believing his compliment. Your fingers were itching to unlock the door and just slip back into the party on the other side, but at the same time, you found you couldn’t move.

(You’d never been able to move away from him.)

"Look at that," you said, nudging your shoe against his. "You haven’t changed."

"Not really."

There was a strange edge to the smile in his voice, like he was trying to swallow something down. Maybe it was more clear on his face, but you couldn’t look up at him.

It was strange, the small details you remembered from years ago. Even when you and Bucky had begun to drift apart (because bottling up your feelings all the time could only ever have gone well for a short while), you would still spend most lunch breaks with him and Steve. How many times had you joined them on the tiny, dried up shrivel of lawn next to the library, being silly together and trying to stretch those thirty minutes into infinity, your sneakers always, always untied.

Steve had sprained his ankle in college when he tripped over his own feet, and so he’d started to tie them like the proper adult he pretended to be, and because the two of them had a habit of always copying the other, you’d just assumed that Bucky would have eventually grown out of the whole thing as well.

(Unlike you.)

Seemed like some things had stayed the same, after all.

And as if that stupid little observation had returned both of you back to the days that were, talking was suddenly so easy. You drifted closer to each other and apart again, like you were moving to a song much slower than the one still audible through the bathroom walls.

Later, you wouldn’t even be able to recall what you’d said. Some teasing remark, probably, a snarky comment like the ones you used to hide your feelings behind when you were fifteen and he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

Whatever it was you’d said, Bucky chuckled again. As if he thought you funny. "I can’t believe I …" He trailed off, shaking his head, dragging a hand through his hair again.

Your eyes tracked the movement. A single curl kept sticking up near the top of his head, like it always had when you both were younger. "You what?" you said, almost entranced by it.

"Nothing," he said, looking over his shoulder like he expected someone to come up to him. There was no one there, but he kept moving like he was struggling against some unseen force.

"You what?" you laughed, thoroughly intrigued now.

He shook his head, but it spilled out anyway, like some tidal wave he couldn’t keep contained. "I used to have a crush on you in high school, alright?"

A pause, a break, a screeching record halt.

"No, you didn’t."

(He didn’t.)

"Uhm, yeah I did." He sighed heavily. "Look, you were never supposed to find out."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you could feel it in your ears. "Why not?"

"Because you’re …. You were my best friend. That was more important." The past tense really shouldn’t have broken your heart the way it did, because you’d known. Of course you’d known.

"And what about now?" you said, your hands clutched tightly around yourself." We’re not best friends anymore, are we? So … what are we now?"

He stared at you very intently, and his voice broke a little when he said, "I’m not sure what you want me to be."

There was a pause, and you realized Bucky’s face had turned even redder. You could barely look away from his eyes, though. It was almost impossible to make out their color in the semi-darkness of the bathroom, but there was a softness to them that made your skin prickle with goosebumps.

"Are you drunk or something?" you asked, feeling very, very sober yourself.

"What?" he said, almost offended by your suggestion. "Of course not."

"Good."

You stared at him for a moment longer, and then you kissed him.

You’d imagined kissing Bucky Barnes so many times before, but the real thing was so much better than even your wildest dreams could have predicted. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world and still didn’t want to waste a single second. Your hands circled around his waist to press him ever closer to you, and he made a noise at the back of his throat that made your brain short-circuit.

His hands trailed across your shoulder blades, gently pulling you with him as he took a step backwards and his back hit the wall with a low thud, his mouth never once leaving yours. He tasted like coffee and salt and something that was so distinctly him it took your breath away.

When you finally came up gasping for air, Bucky whined in disapproval, peppering smaller kisses along your cheeks, your jawbone, your neck. You grabbed his shoulder for support as your knees threatened to buckle, the fingers of your other hand grabbing a fistful of his hair.

"Shit, Y/N," he mumbled against your pulse, and the low timbre of his voice was enough to make your eyes flutter shut again. "You’ve got no idea how long …"

He didn’t finish talking, his lips finding yours again with a hum that made your grip on him tighten involuntarily, his hands large and solid around your middle. There was no telling how much time you lost to that kiss. Hours, maybe, an eternity of both of you trying to get as close to each other as possible.

At one point, Bucky tapped your thigh, as if he was trying to get you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist, and you were about to, honestly, but just then you were interrupted by a sudden and incessant knock at the door.

"Whoever’s in there, can you hurry up? There’s a line out here!"

You broke apart with an embarrassed snort. "Just a minute!" you called, somehow managing not to sound quite as short-winded as you felt. You steadied yourself against Bucky’s chest, feeling his heartbeat drum a mad rhythm underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. "I do not wanna go out there," you mumbled.

"Neither do I," he said, and his voice sounded so low and so wrecked you had to kiss him again. Just a small peck on the lips, this time, but you still came up light-headed. "Wanna get out of here?"

(More than anything.)

"I can’t," you sighed apologetically. "Nat’s not even here yet and I told her I’d help with the cake."

"I don’t give a shit about the cake."

You giggled. "I promised, though"

Bucky groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. The person on the other side of the door started knocking again. "She has an hour," he mumbled and sealed it with a quick kiss before you could say anything else. "Tops."

You left that bathroom with your head held high and an incredulous smile on your face. Outside, a clash of thunder shook the window panes.

***

It crosses your mind, then, when the car slows and the gas gauge finally stops blinking, that your younger self would have killed to be in your shoes. Or rather, bare feet pulled up on the passenger seat, Bucky’s fingers entertwining with yours, feeling tired and wide awake at the same time as nervous excitement curls up in your chest.

How many summer night did you use to lie awake in bed, imagining a scenario just like this?

(A million, at least.)

The summer air carries the smell of the ocean, and if you looked out the windscreen, you could probably see the waves crashing against the shoreline as the sun starts to rise, a picture perfect view like something out of a fucking dream. You’re still not quite convinced you haven’t fallen asleep on Wanda’s shoulder earlier in the evening, your subconscious making all of this up out of some long buried yearning from years ago.

You don’t want to look outside, though. You don’t want to look anywhere but at the boy beside you, whose hair is still tousled from your touch and who looks at you like he’s on cloud nine and absolutely terrified at the very same time.

"Do you feel kinda nervous or is it just me?" Bucky says, and you laugh.

"Yes. What’s up with that?"

It’s like the manic, pent up energy that made your kiss in the bathroom feel like you got struck by lightning has vanished from your bodies, making room for something more quiet. More anxious. A question whispered at the back of your mind that makes your hold on his hand tighten.

What now?

(Reality stopped calling a while ago, but it’s only a matter of time.)

"I guess it’s a good sign." Anticipation makes the blue of his eyes shimmer. "Means neither of us wants to fuck this up."

You smile tentatively. "Is there something we could potentially fuck up?"

Bucky swallows, tilting his head. "I hope there is."

(You want to run away with him. You want to stay with him. You’d wait a million summers more to get here.)

"Me too."

When he leans in this time, it’s sweeter than before, slower, less a declaration and more a promise. Neither of you would have to wait anymore.

thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

[intrepidacious]

it worked out pretty well for him in the end 🤭

Holiday special request incoming

Steve Rogers x reader under the mistletoe

stay now | s.r.

a/n: i didn't have room to mention it but this was totally loki's fault btw (never trust a loki when there's mistletoe)

They’re like weeds, Steve thinks with an exasperated huff, seasonal parasites that apparently love to follow him wherever he goes; all day long, branches of mistletoe have appeared hanging from doorframes and lampshades and even one of the helicarriers. He’d normally blame Tony or Sam for this, because judging by their shit-eating grins they at least know something, but he’s gotten stuck with Pepper, too, which got him a holler—it was a kiss on the cheek, for crying out loud.

Anyway, the point is that this has been going on for hours and he’s starting to suspect that there’s something supernatural about this infestation and someone should look into this as soon as possible, actually, because there might be some nefarious intent behind it and—

"Steve, you’re stalling," you grin, your gaze flitting between his face and somewhere above his head where he knows, he knows there’s another one of the damn things but he doesn’t want to look up. The alternative, though, is continuing to stare at you, which doesn’t make things better at all and he should really stop doing that and get his shit together pronto and, god, is he blushing?

"We don’t," he starts and has to clear his throat immediately when you take a step closer, "we don’t have to if you don’t, uhm—"

Your hand comes up to his cheek and his voice gives out as you press your lips right next to the corner of his mouth, lingering just long enough for his mind to go blank; and so, when you move away from him again, he catches your chin between his fingers, your smile steady as his heartbeat rushes wildly in his ears, and then he leans in again.