#so this is going here for now bc I wanna let that settle before posting

[pistachi0art]

close call? 👔

[buckymorelikefuckme]

and baby makes three

(the reboot)

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 11.3k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, pining, smut, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cockwarming (kind of??), trigger warning for having troubles with getting pregnant. it's still super fuckin soft despite all of that though, i swear.

a/n: okay so it's currently 6am as i'm typing this and i haven't been to sleep yet bc i decided to just heavily edit this instead of rewrite it bc i'm lazy i guess idk. this was posted originally back in 2021 i believe and it's still on ao3 it's just orphaned rip. i promise i'll be writing and posting new stuff soon ok pls have faith in me and cheer me on bc it's hard and scary and i don't wanna disappoint anybody :( ANYWAY, as usual, any and all mistakes are my own. if i've missed anything important pls let me know so i can correct it. feedback is encouraged (pls) and appreciated (i am begging...)

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and very unlikely. Sure, you liked kids well enough, but having one of your own…

It’s a thought that’s sat in a corner deep in your mind, buried beneath a million other impossible concepts; a thought that you’ve only ever glanced over and never gave your full attention, having ruled it out ages ago as something you just couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do.

And then, on a day like any other, it pushes its way to the forefront of your mind, making itself known and unwilling to leave.

You’re going into the clothing store to find a new cardigan after your most favorite one got eaten by the dryer. Usually you’re a single-minded shopper, walking into a store with tunnel vision and on a mission to get what you need and that’s it.

Today, however, you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander on your way to the sweater section. Your gaze just so happens to land on the baby clothes… and your steps falter. It’s there that you see it, a tiny, pink onesie with a sleeping teddy bear printed on the front, displayed on an even tinier hanger. There’s matching pants with teddy bears all over them and ruffles on the butt and all your brain can muster up is cutecutecutecutecute.

Your feet carry you closer and before you realize what you’re doing you pick up the outfit, letting out a coo when you realize the teddy bear is fuzzy, softly rubbing your thumb across it. Somehow, you walk out of the store, not with a new cardigan, but with the cute baby outfit and a bow you thought looked adorable with it.

It’s not until you get home that it hits you, that you bought baby clothes for a baby you don’t even have.

The feeling that rushes through you is hard to describe. Shame? Embarrassment?

...Yearning?

No. Definitely not. Nope.

There’s absolutely no yearning going on here, not for a baby. You’ve never even had that desire before and you certainly don’t see yourself having it now. You shake your head to clear it, telling yourself you’ll take it back tomorrow.

Except you don’t take it back. You conveniently “forget” and it stays shoved on the top shelf in your hall closet. You pretend you don’t pause in front of said closet throughout the following days—weeks—chewing on the inside of your cheek and staring at the door like you can see through the wood at the evidence of your impulsive purchase.

It gets harder to ignore, though, when you start getting ads for baby clothing brands. And baby toys, bottles, handy little gadgets for new parents, nursery decor… It’s endless.

Then, as if it wasn’t already bad enough, all of your childhood friends start popping out babies like it’s a brand new trend. You don't think you've seen your social media this flooded with pregnancy announcements and baby arrivals, ever. Your emotions are mixed; happy for them, and for their excitement, but there’s also a weird discomfort settled in your stomach.

You hesitate to be that person who thinks the universe is trying to tell you something, but you do wonder. Why else would you suddenly have these feelings? Why else would there be baby stuff everywhere you look now?

It brings on other thoughts, as well. In this day and age, it’s not too unusual for women to have babies without being married, or without a significant other at all. There is the pressure, still, to at least be in a relationship, but considering you’ve been practically in love with one of your closest friends for the last two years, it’s safe to say that you’re tragically single, so having a baby with someone is out of the question.

And god, do you even want a baby?

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, with a sudden clarity that hits you like a ton of bricks, you realize you do. It feels like a freight train has slammed into you. Your mind’s eye supplies you with images of a swollen belly and wide smile, a precious baby wrapped in a soft blanket, cradled in your arms, a gummy grin and happy giggle.

Emotion consumes you then, longing like you’ve never felt in your life, chest aching with how badly you want that.

It’s not as if you’re too young. You’re plenty old enough and you’ve got a secure job. You don’t subscribe to that whole biological clock nonsense, but you do feel that if you are going to potentially have a baby, it might be better to do it now while you’re still in relatively good health.

You groan, dropping your face into your open palms, the movie you'd been watching to try and distract yourself long forgotten as it continues to play on the television.

This is a lot to think about, you ponder to yourself. Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, you decide the mature thing to do is give yourself more time to ruminate on it. Having a baby is no small decision. You need to be absolutely certain it’s what you want. It’s going to change your entire life, everything, and you’d be responsible for a new life. So, you’ll have to give yourself a few months to decide and then you can go from there.

***

You’re scrolling through yet another article on your laptop, engrossed in every detail of the process of artificial insemination and the symptoms and side effects that come with it. So engrossed, in fact, that you don’t hear the key turning in the lock, the door opening and closing, and the heavy footfalls that follow.

It’s only when Bucky asks, “Whatcha reading?” that you are even aware of his presence.

You startle so hard that your knee slams into the underside of your table. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your knee and your wildly beating heart, you close your laptop with a snap and turn to Bucky.

“You could knock,” you grouse.

“Why give me a key, then?” he retorts, unapologetic.

You roll your eyes and grumble under your breath, “Clearly, it was a mistake.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

Brows furrowed, you ask, “What?”

He gestures to your laptop. “What were you reading? Your nose was nearly smushed against the screen.”

You blink, trying to think of a reasonable excuse and coming up empty.

“Nothing,” is all your brilliant mind can supply.

Bucky’s eyes narrow for a few seconds, and you pray to every higher power and all that is holy and good that he won’t press further. You remain frozen under Bucky’s suspicious stare, hearing that Old West shootout music playing in your mind.

Thankfully, it seems the deities are feeling indulgent, as Bucky chooses let it go.

He holds up the bags he carried in. “I brought lunch.”

You perk up instantly. “Did you go to that one place—?”

“With the fried rice you like so much, yes,” he finishes for you, smiling.

“You’re the best,” you sigh, stomach rumbling eagerly.

“I know,” he replies, solemn and dramatic like the idiot he is.

He begins taking out the styrofoam boxes and chattering on about something dumb Steve did the other day, and you mean to listen, you really do. It’s just. That article is still lingering in your brain. There’s so many steps and hassles. Plus, it’s not cheap. It would be a hefty investment.

You’d only researched it because, after months of contemplating the pros and cons of having a baby, you determined the pros far outweigh the cons. But then the problem was: how to even make it happen.

Your first thought was that you didn’t think you’d let just any man come inside you, for many obvious reasons. You’d shuddered to think of it. Then there was surrogacy, which is admirable and wonderful, but you’d quickly dismissed that idea as you realized you wanted to actually carry the baby yourself. So that led you to artificial insemination. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet. There was something a little too clinical about choosing a random man’s sperm to have injected into your uterus.

Bucky’s still speaking as he grabs plates and forks, unaware of your inner monologue. “And then he got Sam involved,” he’s saying, scooping out food onto the plates, “which, as you know, I always think is a dumb thing to do.”

“I want to have a baby,” you blurt, eyes widening at your outburst.

Bucky fumbles with the spoon, sending fried rice flying, muttering curses as he tries to catch it with no luck as it lands with a dull clunk on the table. The silence that follows is loud. It feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait for him to just say something, anything.

“This is… quite a mess I’ve made,” Bucky finally observes. His voice is a bit higher than usual. “Where’s your vacuum? Actually, do you have one of those mini ones? Or would Clorox wipes be better? You know what, I’ll do both.”

He nods decisively then turns an expectant look towards you. His eyes look a bit wild, but you wisely keep that to yourself.

Wordlessly, you direct him to your hall closet. You realize your error a second too late when he opens the closet and reaches for the vacuum on the top shelf, where the purchase you’d made months ago also rests. His fingers get caught in the plastic bag when he grabs the handheld vacuum and its contents spill out. He goes to catch them right away, but once it registers what they are, he lets go of them like they’re on fire and nearly drops the vacuum on his foot.

Heat has been steadily creeping up your neck, but now your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment. The two of you stare at the baby clothes lying unassumingly on the floor for a long moment, until Bucky quietly walks back to the table with the vacuum clutched tightly in his fist. He flicks the switch on and it whirs to life, sucking up the bits of rice scattered around the table.

There’s another lengthy silence after he turns the vacuum off and you're unable to find the right thing to say to break it. Bucky does it for you.

“So… You’re serious.”

You meet his eyes and sigh heavily. “Yeah.”

He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, schooling his expression carefully. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”

You cough lightly and start picking the peas out of your fried rice. “Well, that would be because I’m not.”

“I don’t think I follow,” he admits slowly.

You sigh again, lowering your gaze to your lap. “Look, I’ve thought about this a lot, okay? I’ve given myself months to really make sure it’s what I want. I’m in a good place in my life to have one, Bucky, and I don’t want to feel pressured to wait until I might get married.” You lift your gaze to his. “I want to have a baby,” you repeat firmly. “And I don’t need a partner to have one.”

You’re not sure why you feel the need to defend yourself. It’s not up to Bucky what you decide to do. You don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. Maybe it’s because, even though you know it's not true, it feels like you're making too hasty of a decision.

After a beat, Bucky amends, “Well, I mean… You do…”

“Oh my god, shut up, you know what I mean,” you groan as you smack his arm, glad that he's not calling you crazy or trying to talk you out of it.

He doesn’t even flinch, the jerk.

“Wait, so what were you reading when I got here?” he suddenly questions, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” you say too quickly, guiltily.

“Let me see your laptop then,” he counters as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You flounder for a second, scoffing. “What? No!”

“It can’t be that embarrassing, just show me,” he wheedles.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me see!”

“It’s private!”

“Don’t be a chicken.”

Your eye twitches. “I’m not a chicken.” Bucky smirks and before he can even open his mouth you interject with a finger pointed accusingly at his face, “Do not start clucking at me, Bucky. I’ll kick your ass,” you threaten, though it's weak and you're not the only one who knows it.

You glare when his smirk only widens. Slowly, he moves his arms like he’s gonna flap them like chicken wings.

“Ugh! God, fine! You wanna know what I was reading?” You open your laptop and slide it over to him, turning it to where he can read it. “There.”

Bucky scans the page, then scans it again, eyes flicking all over like it’s in a different language. His cheeks grow redder and redder as he reads and you get a small sense of satisfaction at the sight.

“Wow,” he mutters finally. “You’re turkey baster serious.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What?” he asks innocently.

When you make eye contact with him, you purse your lips to keep the laughter threatening to bubble out at bay, but the ever growing smile on Bucky’s face is hard to resist and you find yourself snorting a laugh that leads to uncontrollable giggles. Bucky’s laughing with you, his eyes crinkling on the sides. The tension you hadn’t realized you held in your shoulders loosens and you nudge his knee with yours in silent thanks.

“So,” he says after you've both calmed down.

“So,” you repeat, dragging it out, drumming your fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve been doing research, checking out all of my options, and while artificial insemination seems like the best choice… I don’t know, there’s just something too clinical about it,” you reply, voicing your concerns, “It doesn’t feel right. I know I said I don’t need a partner, and I don’t, but… Having absolutely no connection is weird.”

You shrug, waving a hand as if to say oh well, putting an end to the conversation, and pick up your plate to carry it over to the microwave. You reheat Bucky’s food while you’re up, and then you both start eating in comfortable silence. He gets halfway through his meal before speaking up.

“Have you… I mean, did you think about… I’ve heard that, uh. Some people ask another person…”

He trails off, clearly frustrated that he can’t just spit out what he’s trying to say. You think you understand what he means, though.

“I read up on surrogacy,” you say, biting your lip. “But I don’t think I’d want someone else to carry my baby.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—I wasn’t suggesting, uh, that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it!” he rushes to say.

You tilt your head. “What did you mean then?”

“Well,” Bucky starts, stilted, licking his lips. “For the artificial insemination, have you considered… you know. Asking someone you’re close with?”

You frown, not following.

“For—for the sperm,” he clarifies, shifting in his seat.

“Oh,” you breathe, blinking rapidly, surprised as you think of how to reply. “Um. No? I wouldn’t even know who I could ask, to be honest. That’s quite the request, you know? Who would—“

“Me,” he interrupts, determined and cheeks flushed, “I would.”

Your own face heats. “Oh,” you say again, quieter.

You can say, with full confidence, that not once did it cross your mind to ask anyone to help you, but you especially would have never given thought to asking Bucky.

For a list of reasons, really, with “it’s Bucky” being right at the very top. Like—sure, yes, you’re in love with him, but after two years of no signs of reciprocation you’ve learned to stop dreaming, to stop hoping. If the attraction was mutual he would have shown it by now, right? And on top of that, his friendship means the world to you and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. You'd never forgive yourself if you ever managed to fuck up the one good, constant thing going for you.

“Bucky,” you start, slow and careful, “this… This isn't something you can just jump into. It’s something you should think about for a while.”

He contemplates that for a second. “You’re right,” he concedes with a nod. “But…” He purses his lips, glancing away for a minute before turning back to you, leaning forward. “Okay listen, this is important for you. It’s going to change your whole life. You said it yourself, not having a connection to the sperm donor feels wrong. You’re my best friend, alright? I—care about you. You should pick someone you can trust.”

He clenches his jaw after he finishes speaking. You sort of hate the way your heart both flutters and plummets at his words. It’s nice to know you matter to him, just not in the way you’ve wanted for too long.

And if you’re really honest with yourself, Bucky would be a great choice as a donor. He’s in great health, has strong features that would look wonderful on any gender. But would you be able to handle the repercussions of having his child? Would you be able to look at your baby and see those features without it sending a pang through your chest every single time? You can’t say for certain.

Yet, the chance to have that type of connection with him, selfishly, sounds too good to pass up.

“At least think about it for a few days,” you murmur reluctantly.

It’s the most acceptance he’ll get and he knows it. A smile blooms across his face and you have to swallow down the warring emotions rising within you.

***

With the amount of research you do on the subject now, it doesn’t take long for you to find out that there are at-home kits for artificial insemination that are much easier (and cheaper). It’s easy to settle on that, clicking on the info to order your kit with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You read through the instructions online and it all sounds simple enough, until you get to the part where it says that having an orgasm after injection helps increase your chances of conception.

Blinking, heat crawling up your neck, you read that step several times, hoping you read it wrong, but it doesn’t change.

You… You can’t masturbate with Bucky’s sperm inside you. That’s a line you refuse to cross.

And besides, he’s a healthy man in his thirties who exercises regularly and eats fairly healthy food! You probably—definitely—won’t need to take that step. It’ll be fine. Probably.

Once the kit arrives, you call Bucky and ask him to come over so you can explain the process to him. Since he’s only across the hall of your apartment building, he’s there a moment later, letting himself in with his key.

“Let’s make a baby,” is how he greets you.

“Hold your horses,” you reply, fighting back a laugh. “I gotta walk you through everything first.”

He plops himself down next to you on your couch. “Fine, fine. Go ahead.”

Squaring your shoulders, you begin telling him how it all works, and what parts he is key for. You speak through your awkwardness, avoiding eye contact, when you explain that he’ll need to masturbate into a clean, sterile cup. You leave out how it’s suggested for you to also masturbate, deciding it’s not pertinent information for him to know.

“When do we start?” he asks once you’re done.

“I have to take an ovulation test first to find out the best days for me to conceive, but once I do that we’ll be able to, um.” You gesture vaguely. “I’ll be able to do the injections.”

He nods. “Alright.” He looks at you then, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here every step of the way, okay?”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “Thank you, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome,” he returns softly.

“No, really, thank you,” you assert. “This is a lot to take on and I can never fully repay you.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I want you to be happy, and I can see that having this baby is going to do that. I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure it happens.”

You pull him into a hug, willing yourself to not cry. You’re not sure he’ll ever understand what this means for you, personally, or that you’d ever find a way to express it. He’s giving you so much more than just a baby.

***

The first injection time comes and you find yourself fidgeting where you sit as you wait for Bucky to bring over the, uh… sample. You do your best to not think about what he’s doing in his apartment, to not think about exactly how he’s collecting his sperm.

Now is not the time, you mentally scold yourself. Get it together.

A timid knock at your door alerts you to his presence. The fact he’s knocking says a lot about his own level of embarrassment about the situation.

His cheeks are pink when you open the door. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” you return.

He clears his throat and lifts the small cup in his hand. “Here’s… well, you know.”

You gingerly take it from him, not knowing what else to say, but when he smiles somewhat crookedly and turns to leave, you find yourself asking, “Will you stay?”

Bucky’s steps pause. “Huh?”

“Will you—I mean… Would you mind staying?” You shift on your feet. “This is a big moment for me. I-I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Are you asking me to…?” He trails off awkwardly.

“Oh! God, no, I wouldn’t—no,” you assure, huffing a laugh, “I’m doing the injection, I just need a little moral support. That’s all.”

Bucky smiles. “Sure, I’ll stay.”

Relief floods through you. You step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. He follows you to your bedroom and just before entering you stop in your tracks, nearly causing Bucky to bump into you.

“Um,” you mutter, turning to him. “You’ll have to, ah, sit out here,” you explain. “I have to be lying down…”

Understanding dawns on him. “Oh! Right, right, of course. Sorry.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done,” you promise.

He nods and watches you close the door. You walk over to your bed and sit down, glancing at the syringe you’ll be using and biting the inside of your cheek.

This is it. There’s really no going back after this. Sure, you may not get pregnant the first time, but Bucky’s already said he’d help you for as long as it takes. It’s just… very real now. You don’t feel any doubts, though. You want this.

Inhaling a large breath and slowly letting it out, hands shaking, you take the lid off the cup and pick up the syringe. You remember the instructions, making sure there’s as little air sucked in as possible when you draw out the semen, and getting rid of the few air bubbles that you see. You grab your pillows and lie down, propping them beneath you to lift your hips.

“Here I go,” you mumble to yourself, taking another deep breath and releasing it.

A couple minutes later, the syringe is empty and you’ve got your legs pulled up to your chest. You cover yourself with your blanket and call out Bucky’s name.

“You okay?” you hear through the door.

“Will you come here, please?” you ask.

He walks in cautiously, making sure you’re decently covered before entering fully, wisely not commenting on your position. “Well?”

“I did it,” you whisper.

He stays quiet, letting you parse through your thoughts. You blink when you feel tears threatening to gather in your eyes. He’s beside you in an instant, crawling in the bed and lying down, taking your hand in his.

“Congratulations,” he says softly.

“Don’t congratulate me yet,” you reply, sniffing and wiping at your eyes.

“Still,” he presses. “You’re one step closer now.”

He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it. You give him a watery smile. The two of you lay there in silence for a moment before Bucky breaks it.

“This isn’t how I pictured myself making a baby.”

It startles a laugh out of you and Bucky grins, pleased to have helped ease the tense atmosphere. He distracts you with idle conversation after that, talking about his plans for the upcoming weekend, asking about yours, tells you about the newest stupid thing Sam did; he talks and talks and talks, until your anxiety is gone, and then he stays to cook dinner for you.

Your hug when he gets ready to head back to his apartment lasts a couple minutes longer than usual. Bucky quietly allows it, dropping a kiss on your forehead when you pull away.

“Same time next week?” he jokes, making you crack a smile.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” you reply exasperatedly as you close your door.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he returns over his shoulder.

***

Weeks pass. More injections. Pregnancy tests taken.

But nothing happens.

All of your tests come back negative.

When reading up on artificial insemination, and pregnancy in general, you’d understood that there was a chance it wouldn’t happen right away. You thought you were fine with that, that you’d be alright with the waiting and all. Looking at your growing collection of negative tests, however, has a sense of dread building within you. You do your best to quell it, telling yourself there’s no need to stress over it. Yet.

Besides, your mind supplies in an overly cheerful manner, there’s still one more method to try!

***

The next time Bucky brings over his sample, he lets himself in, like always, and passes along the cup with an encouraging smile. You try to smile back, but it feels more like a grimace. He either doesn’t notice or he at least pretends not to, thankfully.

But when he goes to make himself comfortable to wait, you’re reminded that you haven’t told him about the, uh… change in procedure, so to speak.

You clear your throat delicately. “I don’t think you’ll need to stick around this time.”

Bucky frowns. “Why not?”

“Because…” You trail off, cheeks pinking, yet not finishing the sentence, because how do you explain this?

“I promised you I’d be here every step of the way,” he recalls. “I intend to keep that promise.”

You wince. “I really appreciate where your heart is, Bucky, I really do, but I literally cannot let you be here for this injection.”

“Why not?”

You look heavenward for mercy. “I have to…”

When you don’t finish your sentence again, Bucky raises a single brow, gesturing for you to go on. “You have to… what?”

You huff, throwing your arms out. “I have to orgasm, okay?”

His eyes go a little bit wide, but you can tell he tries to control his reaction. He swallows, shifting where he sits on the couch.

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Have… have you had to do that before?”

“No. Well, I mean, it was suggested, but I never…”

His eyebrows furrow. “Does it help or something?”

You absently scratch your neck. “They say it increases the chances of conception.”

“But you haven’t been doing… that.”

“I didn’t think I’d need to.”

Bucky inhales like he’s going to say something, but then doesn’t.

“Yeah, so, I don’t think you should be here,” you utter, quickly adding, “No offense.”

“No, yeah, that’s fair, um. I’ll just—I’ll head back to my apartment,” he states as he stands. “You can—I mean, if you still want me to—I can come back over? After you… uh…”

“I’ll let you know,” you reply, voice tight and high.

He nods, looking lost and like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. Finally, he mutters a soft bye and is out the door.

Alone now, your stomach feels like it’s tying itself in knots and your heart is doing its damnedest to beat out of your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s just another injection, that this is the same as any other time you've done this, but you know it’s not. It's really, really not.

Laying down on your bed, syringe in hand, is much more nerve wracking than before. On your left lies a new addition to your routine. You don’t know why you’re acting like such a prude all the sudden. It’s not like you’ve never masturbated before. Though, you suppose the major difference is that you didn’t have Bucky’s sperm hangin’ out in your vagina all those other times while you did it.

“Quit being such a goober about this,” you tell yourself.

This has to be done for a reason. If you want to have a baby—and you do, very badly—then you’re gonna have to deal with the process.

Once you’ve injected the sperm, you reach for your bullet vibrator next to your left hand. The instructions say not to insert anything, only to stimulate your clit. You try to clear your head, think of it as a chore or something, yet it’s hard not to think of a certain someone.

The vibrator buzzes with the press of a button. You adjust your hips, making sure they’re tilted, then bring the vibrator to your clit. The first touch makes your stomach tense and thighs spasm.

You close your eyes, running the toy along your slit. You really don’t want to drag this out, would prefer to get it over with as quickly as possible, but your mind begins running away with images.

Bucky, settled between your spread thighs, one hand resting on one of them, the other controlling the vibrator. You imagine he’d tease you, slowly trail it along the crease of your thighs, over your hips; everywhere but where you wanted it.

Bucky would probably give in once you whine and beg enough, once your desperation bled into your voice, and hold the vibrator directly to your clit, drink in your cries of pleasure like they’re the finest whisky.

He’d mutter soft but firm encouragement, tell you how good you’re doing, how good you sound. He’d start circling the vibrator, going from quick to lazy swirls, then he’d change the setting to a higher one just to hear you whimper. His free hand would run up your torso to pinch at your nipples for added stimulation.

When you imagine him leaning down to add his tongue into the mix, your mind blanks as your climax hits you, a ragged moan forcing its way out of your throat. You’re quick to turn the vibrator off and toss it to the floor, deciding you’ll worry about cleaning it later, chest heaving as you pant for breath after an intense orgasm.

Shame and embarrassment consume you, mock you for using Bucky to rub one out. You’d given in to the fantasy so easily.

Truthfully, it’s not the first time you’ve thought of him while pleasuring yourself, but the context this time is completely different, and you feel immediately guilty. Admittedly, it’s probably irrational.

That doesn’t stop you from cringing at your actions.

***

You’re sure you’ve bought out the entire pregnancy test section from the convenience store down the block. Currently, there are six different brands in front of you, all promising the most accurate results.

Bucky is sitting in your bedroom, quietly waiting for you to pee on all of them so you can both find out what they say. You chug the last bit of your third bottle of water even though your bladder is fit to burst at any moment. Turning the faucet on for modesty, you make quick work of the tests, then wash your hands.

And wait.

You call Bucky into the bathroom with you. The two of you quietly sit on the edge of your bathtub, counting down the minutes. Part of you wishes Bucky would say something dumb to break the tension, like he usually does, but you're also kind of glad he's just here, next to you, a silent comfort.

It seems like hours have passed when you’re finally sure you can check them.

The first one is negative, and so is the second. The third, however, reads positive. Your heart begins racing, clutching at the counter, but before your hopes get too carried away you read the rest. To your dismay, they are all negative. You stare down at them all, eyes falling on the loan positive test multiple times, knowing that it’s likely a false positive, yet stupidly hoping otherwise.

Your chin wobbles. Bucky hugs you from behind, resting his cheek on your shoulder.

“What do I do, Bucky?”

At your broken whisper, he sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

Neither of you know what to say or do after that. Bucky continues offering quiet support, his solid presence at your back, and you’re grateful. Eventually, he leads you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, sitting you down at the table as he starts preparing dinner.

When you’re both eating the spaghetti he made, he breaks the silence.

“Do you think…” he starts, pausing to think of how to phrase his question before carefully carrying on. “Are you going to stop?”

“I don’t want to,” you answer, the implied but hanging heavy in the air.

Bucky sits his fork down. “I know you want this, very much.” He pushes his hair out of his face as he leans forward, elbows settling on the table. “But I hate seeing how sad you get when the tests come out negative. I feel so… powerless. Like I could be doing more or something.”

“You’re doing all you can, Bucky,” you assure.

“That’s the thing, though. I don’t think I am.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

He licks his lips, locking his fingers together. “I think we should have sex.”

Your fork drops to your plate with a clang, eyes going wide.

“I apologize for how blunt that came out,” he states with a wince. “But, I mean, think about it. You’ve only been using my sperm from a syringe, and up until the last time, you hadn’t been, um, orgasming with it.” You look away, bashful. “I just wonder if maybe trying the old-fashioned way would give you better results.”

“Bucky,” you start, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before shaking your head. “It’s one thing for you to offer your sperm, which I’m thankful for, truly, but… Having sex?”

“I’ve already told you I’m willing to do whatever I need to do,” he retorts earnestly. “Your happiness means a lot to me, okay? I hate sitting around and watching your heart break every week. You’ve tried it your way, now I think we should try mine.”

“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek, knee beginning to bounce under the table.

His hand slides onto your knee, stilling the movement as he ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are impossibly sincere and your resolve crumbles in an instant.

“It won’t… It’s not going to change anything,” he assures. “I won’t allow it.”

You swallow roughly. He may not, but your heart is going to take its toughest beating yet. It’s going to be hopeless trying to overcome the inevitable emotions that come with sex.

Even so, somehow, your longing for a baby eclipses all of this. Now that you’ve imagined holding your child in your arms, raising them and loving them, you can’t go back. Not anymore.

“Okay,” you allow, softly.

Bucky’s shoulders relax, lips tipping up into a devastating smile.

You’re so fucked. (Pun intended.)

***

Two nights later, you’re pacing in your bedroom, impatiently waiting for Bucky to arrive. You’d been unsure whether or not you should dress up. You didn’t see the point, honestly. Still, a small part of you wondered what his reaction would be if he saw you all done up in lingerie. At the moment, you’re in an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts.

It’s Bucky, you think, and this isn’t a normal situation, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing.

You hear his key turning in the lock then and your heart begins hammering away. He calls your name as he enters.

“In here,” you reply, twisting your fingers nervously.

He walks into your room looking just as on edge as you are. He also seems to have had the same idea about his attire, comfortable in his white tee and sweatpants. His feet are bare and for whatever reason that feels way more intimate than it has any right to.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hi.”

You bite your lip, eyes flitting around your room and coming back to settle on Bucky. He huffs.

“This is ridiculous,” he declares, “It’s just us.”

“Right,” you nod, biting the inside of your cheek.

“It’s not gonna be weird.”

“Nope.”

His jaw ticks. You stare back at him. It only takes a moment for you to realize that somebody has to make the first move, so you steel yourself and turn on your heel, walking towards your bed.

“I’m keeping my shirt on,” you announce as you unceremoniously drop onto the mattress, grabbing your pillows to stuff them under you.

Bucky follows at a sedate pace, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He pauses next to you, taking a second to roll his shoulders, then he climbs in and settles in front of your bent legs. He gingerly places his hands on your knees.

“May I?” he asks.

Mouth suddenly dry, you nod. He moves his hands to the waistband of your shorts and tugs. You lift your hips to help him slide them down and off, along with your underwear. Gently, he spreads your legs.

Your breathing has picked up considerably, eyes firmly trained on the ceiling. You know you’re already wet and are blessedly thankful he doesn’t mention it.

The first slide of his fingers has you inhaling sharply. He slowly gathers your slick and trails it up to your clit, lightly circling it. Your mind recalls your fantasy, but you quickly shove it back to the depths of your thoughts, lest you do something idiotic like tell him about it.

He spreads your legs more, adjusting his position between them. His fingers move down until he can sink one into you. You gasp, hands shooting out to grasp your sheets. He wastes no time and begins thrusting his finger inside you.

It becomes quickly apparent to you that it’s going to be very difficult to hold back any noise or reactions. Goddamnit, you will try, though!

When he decides it’s time to add another finger, you feel yourself clench around them, and his soft fuck does not go unnoticed, evident in the way your pussy traitorously clenches again.

“Can I…?” he asks, voice cracking, but doesn’t finish his thought, making you have to break your staring contest with the ceiling and look at him.

He’s not even looking back at you, he’s staring at his fingers, watching them pump in and out of you, half bent over with a slack jaw, like he wants to…

He meets your eyes then, licking his lips.

Oh.

Swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat, knowing you’re probably going to regret it, you nod.

He’s leaning over and sucking on your clit before you can even blink. You cry out, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his free hand shoots out to hold you open. It makes you squirm, fisting the sheets even tighter. His fingers curl inside you as his tongue licks around them and you whine, high and needy, and then mouth is back on your clit, tongue swiping over it, sucking on it with loud, obscene noises.

His hand comes up to grab the hem of your shirt, shoves it upward until it’s bunched underneath your breasts. Those fingers ghost back down your torso, goosebumps erupting in their wake.

He speeds up his thrusts and your hand flies down to grip his hair. You don’t think you’re meant to hear the quiet grunt he lets out, but you do, and it has you panting even harder. Your orgasm is building, fast, and you pull on his hair in warning.

“Bucky,” you say on a gasp.

Using his arm to hold you down, his free hand joins, thumb swiping over your clit now as he dips his head to slide his tongue in alongside his fingers. It draws a yell out of you, the ever expanding pleasure within you bursting into the hardest orgasm you’ve experienced thus far in your adult life. You know you’re moaning, bucking into the sensations coursing through you, and you’d feel abashed if you didn’t feel so fucking good.

Before you can become too sensitive, Bucky withdraws his fingers and sits up. You can’t even really catch your breath, though, because in the next second he’s whipping his t-shirt off and shoving his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock.

Your thighs do clamp closed then, at the sight of how thick he is, and he tries and fails to keep his smirk hidden.

“Oh, shut up,” you wheeze.

“Didn’t say anything,” he counters.

He doesn’t let you argue, choosing that moment to shuffle closer and line up with your opening. Cautiously, he eases himself inside, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, brows furrowing as he fills you, stretching you so perfectly. When he’s in as far as he can go, the breath wooshes out of him, his head falling back. You know he’s trying to be polite and let you adjust, but—

“Oh my god, move,” you demand, impatient.

He huffs a laugh, dropping his heavy lidded gaze to yours. “Bossy.”

“Did you really expect anything else—oh!”

The grin he aims your way after grinding into you is downright sinful. You mentally tell yourself to kick him for that later.

He grabs your hips and the pillows and settles you closer to his lap, changing the angle, then pulls out and glides back in, creating a painstakingly slow rhythm.

You have to close your eyes. You can’t look at him anymore. You knew he was probably a god in bed, but to now have firsthand experience? There was no way you’d be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them.

His grip on your hips tightens, the only warning you get before his thrusts turn sharp.

“Fuck,” you cry out, your hands reaching up to grip the pillow beneath your head.

The sound of your skin meeting his is harsh in the otherwise quiet room. Well, okay, you’re not exactly being quiet, but you can’t be blamed for that.

Bucky, however, is nearly silent. The only thing you hear from him is heavy breathing. You wonder if he’s holding back, the thought crossing your mind for a split second, and then you’re clenching around his cock, trying to see if you can gain a reaction. And boy, do you get one.

He grunts and sucks in a breath, lips parting as his eyes squeeze shut. His hips pick up their pace and hair falls into his face. You find yourself wishing he was closer so you could brush it out of the way.

Stop it, you scold yourself.

He pauses to grind into you again, your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, and you both sigh. Bucky leans forward, hooking your legs into the crooks of his elbows, and resumes his brutal pace.

“O-Oh,” you whimper.

The new angle is heavenly, his cock dragging along a spot inside you that you thought nobody else could find. Unable to help yourself, you clutch at his arms, nails digging in.

“Shit,” he groans, thrusts faltering.

He lets go of one of your legs to slip his hand between you, rubbing at your clit and sending you that much closer to your second orgasm. He can tell you’re close, but you’re gonna need something to push you over the edge. He leans down even closer, breath fanning out against your cheek.

“C’mon,” he pants. “Let go.”

You shiver when his tongue flicks your earlobe and sucks it into his mouth, keening as the pressure builds. He thrusts harder, faster, and when you grasp his hair and pull, he growls and latches on to your shoulder, biting down. You gasp from the added pain and then you’re coming, shuddering and whining through your release. Bucky isn’t far behind, raising up and fucking into you savagely before pausing abruptly, groaning as he finally comes. He lazily thrusts a few more times to draw it out, then stops, stilling with his cock inside you.

Your hair is sticking to your forehead, as well as your shirt to your clammy back, breathing in lungfuls of air. Bucky is softly caressing your thighs, letting out shaky breaths as your pussy continues to flutter around him.

It takes several moments for you to gather your wits, for the rest of the world to come filtering back in. You are truly and completely fucked now, in every sense of the word.

“Well…” You trail off, voice scratchy.

“That was…”

“Mhm,” you mumble.

Bucky sighs heavily. “Let’s hope it worked this time.”

You hum. “Thank you for your service,” you reply with a lazy salute.

You yelp when he pinches your hip, kicking at him in retaliation. The jostling reminds you, with a gasping groan, that he’s still buried balls deep inside you.

“Um.” You cough lightly. “You wanna, you know… pull out?”

He looks down where you’re connected like it hadn’t even dawned on him. “Oh, uh. Well, I thought maybe it could, like. Help.”

His gaze stays locked, fingers flexing on your hips, and you feel like squirming again.

“I think it’s good,” you say quietly.

Bucky finally glances back up at your shy tone, cheeks pinking. He clears his throat.

“Right.”

Carefully, he eases his softening cock out of you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise.

You can’t hold back yours, though, gasping once he’s gone. You feel unbearably empty, but refrain from voicing that incessant thought.

Bucky’s intense eyes stare at your pussy until you reach for the throw blanket next to you. He watches you throw it over your lap, drawing your legs up to your chest, and takes that as his cue, jolting into action.

“Okay, so.” He starts, then stops, climbs off your bed and pulls his sweatpants back up. “This was—I mean, if it doesn’t take this time, we can… try again.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Sounds good.”

He nods, bending to pick up his discarded t-shirt. “Great. I’ll just, um, see myself out, I guess.”

You nod, sending a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes in his direction. He seems to contemplate something for a second, then leans down to kiss your forehead before saying a quick goodbye and leaving.

As soon as you hear your apartment door shut, you let your tears fall.

***

It’s not really like you mean to avoid him after that.

Honest.

You simply become busy, that’s all. You definitely don’t go out of your way by taking the stairs in your apartment building to avoid possibly bumping into him in the elevator. No, you take the stairs because you could use the cardio. It’s important you stay healthy right now. And when he texts you to ask if you want to have dinner, you can’t help that you’ve got boatloads of work to catch up on—all five times he asks.

Okay, so, that’s a lie. You’re totally avoiding him. But what on earth are you supposed to say to him now? You don’t think you’d even be able to look him in the eye anymore, not after the fuck of your goddamn life.

That night confirmed what you already knew for the last two years: Bucky absolutely ruined you for anyone else.

More than anything, though, you were angry with yourself. He’d only offered because you weren’t getting your desired results the other way. You should have been able to separate your feelings and emotions from all of it. After all, none of this was about whatever you feel towards Bucky. This was about trying to conceive a baby.

You try telling yourself to get over it. He’s your best friend, you can’t just cut him off because you’re a spineless pansy.

I just need some time, you reason. You can give yourself a few days to wallow over what could have been and then you can reach out to him and pretend like everything is fine. Because it is.

***

Flash forward two weeks to you attempting to sneak into your apartment, only to jump out of your skin when you turn around and find Bucky sitting on your couch, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Oh, good, you’re still alive,” he drawls.

His tone suggests annoyance. You suppose you deserve that.

“Hey,” you say after a pause.

He stares at you for a moment longer before speaking again. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t let it get weird.”

You agreed, you almost say, thankfully biting it back. You drop your purse on the entryway table, sliding your shoes off and making your way over to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. You tug your sweater sleeves down and tuck your feet beneath you. “I haven’t ever… I’ve never been intimate with a friend before. It was just… a lot.”

It’s a half truth, at least. You haven’t had sex with a friend before. Or, well, not one you had feelings for.

“You could’ve just told me,” he replies, reaching for your hand.

You nod. “I know, and I should have, I just. Things are all out of whack lately with the whole… trying to get pregnant thing.”

“If I overstepped in any way—” Bucky starts, but you’re quick to interrupt.

“You didn’t,” you promise. “You’ve been nothing but fantastic throughout this whole ordeal. Honestly, Bucky, you’ve done way more than anyone else would have in this situation. I just had a lot going on in my head and let it get the best of me. I’m fine, I swear.”

He searches your eyes and must find what he’s looking for.

“Don’t shut me out again,” he pleads.

Heart cracking in your chest, you can only nod, shuffling closer to pull him into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and holds on tight.

***

Another week passes.

Bucky is with you as you wait for the results of the latest pregnancy test. He’s reassured you that you’ll keep trying until it happens if it didn’t work this time.

When the timer on your phone goes off, you release the breath you’ve been holding. You take tentative steps over to the sink and gingerly pick up the test.

Positive.

Your stomach swoops. It’s positive. You check again, reading the digitized screen, but it stays the same. Positive. Holy shit.

“Okay, wait, no, I need to do more. I can’t get my hopes up again,” you mutter, rushing to open the cabinet under your sink to dig out several more varieties of tests.

You don’t even wait for Bucky to leave before you’re peeing on the other sticks. He’s seen it all at this point anyway, and he doesn’t seem to care, sitting on the edge of your tub with an anxious expression. The downside is that you have to wait another few minutes for these tests to finish and you can’t sit still, pacing back and forth in the small space of your bathroom.

The timer goes off again. You feel like you’re going to throw up when you finally work up the courage to look down.

Every single one of them… Positive.

A shocked, happy laugh escapes you. You cover your mouth, turning to Bucky with wide eyes.

He rises to his full height, coming closer and peering down at the tests, then back to your teary eyed expression.

“Did we…?”

Words failing you, you nod, giggling in astonishment. Bucky’s face breaks into the biggest, handsomest, most gut-wrenching smile. His happiness is palpable and you’re suddenly so overcome with emotion. Your hands are gripping his face and angling it to align your lips to his before you register what you’re doing. He freezes and you hurriedly pull away, taking a few steps back.

“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know why—”

“Shut up,” he cuts you off, closing the gap between you in a single stride.

He kisses you like his life depends on it, pressing your bodies as close as possible, his hands cupping your cheeks. You clutch his shirt desperately, never wanting to let go. He steals the breath straight from your lungs when he swipes at the seam of your lips with his tongue, moaning happily when you allow him access. A feeble whine from you after he flicks his tongue against yours makes him break the kiss.

“I have a confession,” he breathes into the miniscule space between your mouths.

“What?” you question distractedly.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze shoots up to his, astounded. He brushes stray hairs off your forehead, runs his thumbs softly under your eyes.

“I’ve been selfish this whole time,” he reveals. “I couldn’t let you choose some random stranger to be your sperm donor, to father your child, couldn’t bear the thought of you carrying their baby, because I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I wanted to be the one. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I’m not sorry I did it.”

You’re hearing the words, yet your brain can’t seem to make sense of them. Surely you’re hearing him wrong. You can’t possibly have this too, right? You can't have Bucky and have his baby…

But he’s here, very real and solid beneath your hands, looking at you like you’re his entire world.

“Bucky…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words, at a complete loss. “I-I’ve loved you for so long now, I didn’t think you…” You shake your head, a giggle escaping you as you stare at him in wonder. “I couldn’t let myself hope.”

He grins, relieved, planting a few chaste kisses to your mouth. “I know this entire circumstance is totally backwards, but I want you, and I want this baby. I meant it when I said I’m not going anywhere.”

Fresh tears gather in the corners of your eyes. “Are you sure?” you still ask.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You have to kiss him then, uncaring of the tears that trickle down your face. The only thing you are focused on is the way his hands trail down your back, pausing to squeeze your ass, then grip underneath to lift you. Your legs wrap around his waist, arms locked around his neck, as he heads for your bed. He makes a point of throwing your extra pillows on the floor before settling between your thighs and kissing the hell out of you.

He pulls away only to undress you and himself, but he’s always back as quickly as possible, lips pressing kisses wherever he can reach. You impatiently tug at him until his lips are attached to yours again. The way he fucks his tongue into your mouth is nothing short of indecent and it sends a rush of pure want all the way to your core.

When you bury your fingers in his hair, gripping it tight, he grunts, biting your lip. You whimper and he grins as he pulls away.

“You make the most beautiful sounds,” he praises, his hands beginning to sweep down and up, tickling under your breasts.

His thumb and forefinger pinch one of your nipples and you gasp, back arching off your mattress. He repeats it on the other side, just to hear the same noise.

“Bucky, please,” you beg.

“Please what?” he prods. His hands drift further to the creases of your thighs, spreading them open. “What do you need?”

You whine, canting your hips up. “You, I need you, please.”

“You have me, sweetheart.” He tilts his head and you make a noise of frustration. “Use your words, darlin’.”

“Fuck me, please,” you burst out, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

Bucky smiles, slow and torturous. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Fuck this perfect pussy until you’re so full of my come that it drips down your beautiful thighs?”

“Oh god,” you mumble.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teases.

His fingers slide down your slit, gathering your slick then thrusts two fingers in at once. You groan brokenly, shifting your hips to try and get more friction, but he holds them down with his metal arm. Agonizingly slow, he begins fucking you with his fingers. It’s good, it’s amazing, but it’s not enough. Not when you know what his cock feels like. He takes his precious time fingering you and you’re sure you’re going to lose your mind before the day is done.

“You have no idea how incredible you felt around my cock,” he tells you in a ridiculously conversational tone. “I was trying to think of any excuse I could come up with to have you at least one more time.”

He shifts until his mouth is directly above where you’re dripping for him, and he waits until you make eye contact with him.

“But now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making you come apart on my cock any chance I get.”

You hardly have any functioning brain cells at the moment, but even if you could form a coherent sentence you wouldn’t have been able to say it aloud, because then he’s descending and all you can feel is the wet warmth of his mouth.

He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, that much is apparent in the way he devours you, lips and tongue drawing out noises you’ve never heard yourself make, pressing his face so far into your pussy that he has to come up for air. His mouth and chin shine when you chance a look down, and when you clench on his fingers his smile goes smug at the corners.

He plants kisses along your hips, the insides of your thighs, around where his fingers are buried within you. He curls them, in search of the spot he found last time. He knows he found it when you try to close your thighs around his head and cry out. Now that he's found it, he angles to brush it on every thrust of his fingers and attaches his mouth back on your clit.

You chant his name, nearly sobbing as you approach your climax, until finally you fly over the edge. Your vision blurs and you’re not sure if you’re making any noise now, unable to hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Bucky helps you ride it out until you’re shuddering from sensitivity.

He kisses your thighs again, trailing them up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts.

“So good, did so well,” he mutters.

Weakly, you lift your hands to trace them down his toned stomach and around his back, down further so you can cop a feel of your own, smiling at his grunt of surprise.

“That was great and all,” you say, arching your back so your chest presses against his, “but I do believe I asked you to fuck me.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Who said I was done with you?” It’s apparently a rhetorical question, as he continues before you get a chance to reply. “I’m gonna fuck you until you come, and then I’m gonna keep fucking you until you come again, and only then will I come so deep inside you there’ll be zero doubt I’ve put a baby there.”

Your legs are lifted and thrown over his shoulders in a blink, his cock pushing into your pussy, dragging out a high-pitched moan from you. There’s barely a pause and then he’s fucking you, just like you asked. The pace is brutal right from the start, a steady rhythm that has you mewling and writhing in pleasure. Bucky is watching his cock as he thrusts in and out of you, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants. He hikes your hips up a little higher and you jolt through your startled moan. This angle is divine and the telltale signs of your second orgasm start tingling at the base of your spine.

“Can feel you,” Bucky says through panting breaths, “so close. C’mon, let me feel you.”

He pulls you down on his cock, grinding into you, his thumb reaching to rub tight circles over your clit. You sob through your release, shuddering against Bucky as you clench around him. He groans, still barely moving as you come down from your high.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Come here.”

He helps you sit up, still seated on his cock, making you both hiss from your movement. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and his around your waist. He kisses you so sweetly, a stark contradiction to the way he just fucked you. When you pull away, resting your foreheads together, he grins.

“Hi.”

You crack a smile. “Hi.”

“Ready for more?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You think you got it in you?” you tease as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

The light smack to your ass startles you and you let out a soft sound of surprise, hands tugging his hair harshly. Bucky’s eyes light up.

“Interesting,” he muses.

Another slap, a little harder than the first, and you’re whimpering, your walls clenching around his still hard cock.

“I’ll play with that later,” he promises, voice breathy.

You bury your face in his neck and start shifting your hips. He takes the hint, gathering you as close as he can and thrusts up into you. He can’t pull out as far this way, but the snap of his hips more than makes up for it. You mouth at his collarbone messily, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, biting marks wherever you see fit. You make it up to his mouth and he kisses you, wet and filthy. You suck on his tongue and a ragged moan claws its way out of his throat. The need for air eventually has you pulling away.

“It’s a good thing you love me back,” you whisper in his ear. “Nobody else could ever compare to you.”

He growls, fisting your hair and yanking your head back to look him in the eye.

“Nobody will ever compare,” he corrects.

You moan. “Yes,” you agree, whining, “No one else could’ve given me a baby.”

Bucky thrusts harder and faster at your words. You’re picking up on a few hints and you can’t say it’s not doing it for you either.

“Filled me up so good, fucked me so well. Gonna be round with your baby soon.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he keens, hurrying to lay you flat on your back so he can fuck into you easier.

The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, your cries of pleasure mixing in with Bucky’s grunts and curses. His grip on you tightens almost painfully as he chases both your and his orgasm. You’re sure to have bruises tomorrow and you already know you'll be poking at them to remember this moment.

“C’mon, baby, wanna feel you too,” you beg.

His thumb finds your swollen clit once more. It’s beyond sensitive now, feels like a shockwave coursing through you, and without any warning, you come. You spasm around Bucky and he swears under his breath, thrusts going sloppy. With a final groan, he comes inside you, his hips moving seemingly on their own as he draws out both your pleasures. Slowly, he comes to a stop, but he leaves his cock buried in you like he did last time.

You know you’re gonna feel too empty when he does pull out, so you don’t mind sitting like this for a while. Bucky softly runs his hands across every inch of your skin he can touch and you bask in the affection. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, smiling when he hums happily. It takes only a minute for you to notice the way his hands migrate to your stomach, and when you do you kiss his shoulder.

“Maybe we should go again later,” you suggest faintly.

Bucky grins. “We can do it a hundred more times if you want.”

“Guess I better enjoy it while I can.”

His smile goes soft at the edges.

It’s not lost on you how incredibly crazy all of this is. There will undoubtedly be a conversation, a much needed one that isn’t going to be simple or easy, but it’s necessary.

For now, though, you bask in Bucky’s warmth and loving embrace.

***

Keys jingle as they unlock the door and you perk up where you’re sprawled on the couch. Bucky enters, arms laden with bags from the convenience store.

“They didn’t have the banana ice cream you asked for,” he announces, continuing before your pout fully forms, “but they did have the double chocolate brownie kind you love so much, so I got that, as well as the sour gummy worms, beef jerky, and fried pickles from the deli on your list of demands.”

“What about—”

“And your strawberry Fanta,” he adds with a fond, slightly exasperated smile.

You’re unable to stop your expression from going soft and dreamy.

Ever since you and Bucky figured out where to go with your relationship, he’s been even more attentive and accommodating (and that’s saying something).

You expressed your worry about the possibility of something going wrong, that one or both of you would get bored and leave, or there’d be a big fight that neither of you could forgive. He was quick to reassure you of his commitment, told you there was no way he would ever get bored of you, and that as long as you both promise to talk things out in a calm, mature way, then you’d be alright.

It all sounded so easy when it was put like that. The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized he was right. It wasn’t fair to either of you to already give up before you’d even started. So you’d taken a deep breath and leaped.

Now, you’re five and a half months in, your belly steadily growing and making everyday life increasingly uncomfortable. The changes to your body were physically and emotionally draining, to say the least. Moreso the emotional side. You’d hoped you wouldn’t be one of those pregnant women with strange cravings, and for the most part they were pretty tame, but you do like to dip your sour gummy worms in banana ice cream. Bucky didn’t attempt to hide his disgust over that.

“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask on a pleased sigh.

He places your small cornucopia of goods on the coffee table. You sit up, huffing for breath during the struggle. You go to reach for the ice cream first, but Bucky catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles as he kneels in front of you.

“You were yourself. Smart, kind, selfless, unbelievably sexy.” You snort at that, but he’s undeterred. “And you’re giving me the best gift I could ever dream of. A family.”

Instantly, you’re crying. He’s grown accustomed to the mood swings by now, taking it in stride as he wipes away the tears with gentle hands.

“Stop being so disgusting,” you blubber through your hiccuping cries. “You’re such an asshole.”

Bucky laughs. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You sniffle, kissing him. “Love you,” you grumble.

He leans down and plants the softest of kisses to your belly. “And I love you, little lady.”

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and unlikely, but life has a way of turning out exactly how it’s supposed to… And you wouldn’t change a thing.

[joeshiestyslover]

i just wanna feel your love again

pairing: cocky!joe burrow x reader

summary: you see joe again two years after you left to pursue your dream job in new york

warnings: language, some angst, some fluff, happy ending bc joe deserves it

masterlist

lowercase intended

a/n: part two to hotel room bc i know y’all wanted it so here you go!!

it’s too late for us. those words cut through joe’s heart like a knife. he regrets letting you walk out his front door without fighting for you. joe really was in love with you, but for some reason he couldn’t show it. something inside him prevented him from telling you how he felt, and because of that he lost the only person he truly loved. since that night, joe swore to himself that if the opportunity ever presented itself, he would never let you walk out of his life again.

it’s been two years since that night, and joe still has hope that he’ll see you again. he stopped hooking up with random girls, he stopped drinking and going to clubs, and he turned all his attention towards football.

joe still checks up on you sometimes. a few months ago, you finally unblocked joe on instagram, though his number remained blocked, but he’ll take what he can get. when he looks through your posts, he’s happy to see you doing so well. you’re thriving with your new job and your new friends, and it seemed as though you would stay in new york forever. little did joe know, that your job is relocating you back to cincinnati.

the moment you stepped back in ohio, you felt like you were home again. you made so many great memories in cincy, but there were bad ones too. well, one bad memory in particular: the night you left joe for good. that night is on constant replay in the back of your mind. since you left, you always wondered what if. what if you stayed? what if you told joe you loved him back? you tried not to think about him, but it was just so difficult. you loved joe with everything in you, hell you still do, but you know it would never work. joe isn’t the type of guy you marry and have kids with; he’s the guy you have fun with in your early twenties before you realize you want something serious.

ever since you got back to cincinnati, you’ve been thinking about joe. what would you do if you saw him? what the hell would you say to him? you decide to try to take your mind off the quarterback by going out with your friend, kennedy, who you haven’t seen since you left for new york. you both decided to meet the club you two always went to, and coincidentally, the same club where you met joe.

your uber pulls up to the club, and you take a deep breath before thanking the driver and getting out of the car. the moment you walk in your eyes connect with kennedy, and you let out a sigh of relief. “y/n!!!” kennedy yells as she basically sprints across the club to hug you. “i missed you so much! you have to tell me all about new york!” she exclaims excitedly. “i missed you too, and i will tell you about new york, but for right now let’s drink!” kennedy laughs and leads you over to the bar, where you order two shots of fireball. once you receive your shots from the bartender, you immediately down the shot, and you wince at the burning sensation in the back of your throat. “we should go dance!” you yell. “omg yes let’s go!” kennedy takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor.

you don’t know how long you were dancing for, but after a while, you both go back to the bar for more drinks. you’re about to take your fifth shot when you hear kennedy gasp. “what is it?” you ask, concerned. “y/n, don’t turn around, but there’s a certain blonde, blue-eyed quarterback fifteen feet behind you.” you freeze. there’s no way. going against your friend, you slowly turn around to find the man you fell in love with. you quickly turn back around to avoid him spotting you.

across the club, joe is accompanied by his teammates who somehow convinced him to go out with them. they all settle in a corner before joe’s teammate, ja’marr, speaks up. “there’s no fucking way bro.” joe’s eyebrow raises. “what?” “dude look straight ahead at those two girls at the bar.” ja’marr points to exactly where you and your friend are standing. joe’s eyes follow to where his receiver’s hand is point and his eyes settle on you. at first, he thinks he’s dreaming, but it really is you, and you look more beautiful than you’ve ever looked. you’re practically glowing.

he sees you and kennedy trying to leave, and he almost lets you, but he remembered the promise he made to himself the night you left. without a word to his team, he begins to run towards you, determined to get you to hear him out.

you and kennedy are outside, booking an uber when you hear your name. you shake it off, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you hear it again. you turn to where the voice is coming from, and you lock eyes with joe. before you know it, joe is standing in front of you. “joe what the hell are you doing?” “y/n look before you say anything, i fucked up. i waited too long to tell you how i felt and i paid the price. i lost the love of my life. after you left i bettered myself. i stopped hooking up with random girls, i stopped drinking, and i stopped going to clubs every weekend. hell, this is the first club i’ve been to in over a year. y/n i love you so much, and i can’t stop loving you no matter how hard i try. it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but i just had to tell you.”

you’re speechless. one part of you wants to punch him in the face and tell him to fuck off, but the other part of you wants to leap into his arms and kiss him. “joe… i would be lying if i said i don’t love you because i do, but you treated me like shit. you made me feel horrible about myself, like i didn’t matter.” you can feel your eyes begin to burn from the tears that are forming. “i cannot tell you how sorry i am for doing that to you. i promise that i will continue to be the man you deserve. please just give me the chance to prove that to you.” he takes your hand, and you let him. you bring your hand up to joe’s cheek. “just please don’t hurt me again.” you tell him as he grins from ear to ear. “i would never dream of it honey.” he replies as he dips his head down to kiss you with passion that you had never felt with him before. it may have taken a while to get to this point, but it was well worth the wait.

[the-laughing-lunatic]

hii! hope it’s not too much trouble, but maybe reader x scout, reader x engie, and reader x sniper - (established relationships with the mercs and reader) the reader doesn’t seem to be very happy lately - something bad that happened earlier in the week must’ve reminded reader of their past. (i really like your posts btw, you’re genuinely a really good writer)

(ahhhhh thx sm! I tried to make it as vague as possible so I hope you like it. Thx for requesting! p.s. I'm workin thru the rest of rqs soon bc school is wrapping up, so rqs may be back open soon :3)  

Scout, Engie, and Sniper w/ a reader who was reminded of their past (ROMANTIC)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

☆Scout☆

He feels like something’s off, but doesn’t know what

He wants to try to talk to you about it, ask if you’re alright and everything but he’s never been one for initiating that kind of emotional talk

When he finds you crying in your room though, he feels his heart break that he didn’t help you before

He scoops you up in his arms. “H- hey, doll, why’re you cryin’? Was it something I said?”

(He can’t help but still be a little insecure, you’re the first person he’s dated after all and he wants to do everything right for you)

If you don’t want to talk about it he’ll hold you and go on about how much he loves you so you don’t have to deal with silence

“You’re so perfect, doll, it kills me to see you like this, y’know, watchin’ tears roll down that pretty face of yours. Wish ya never felt the need to cry baby, I love you so goddamn much-”

Yeah he’s crying too, he can’t help it

If you do tell him he’d listen intently

He’d try to make you laugh so you’d stop crying, humor is his coping mechanism and he kinda projects it on you, sorry if that’s not your thing :/

He’ll make sure to give you plenty more affection a while after, youre getting spoiled as hell

☆Sniper☆

He’s not the best with emotions and all that jazz (he has the autism)

But when he finds you crying outside it hits him that something’s wrong

He sits next to you and places his hand on your shaking figure. 

“You okay darl?”

“No.”

“Would you like a hug dear?”

“Please.”

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight to him, barely any space between the two of you.

He rubs circles into your back until your crying has settled down. “...you wanna talk about it now, love?”

If you don’t he’ll stay with you and idly trace shapes into your hand, letting you cry it out

If you do tell him he’ll nod empathetically “Oh, love,” he sighs, tilting your chin up to look at the night sky above you two

“Think ‘bout it this way. All those stars up there? The light we see from em’ now is from ages ago, but the actual bloody stars have completely different light.  And jus’ because we can see the light, don’t actually mean that it’s here anymore. Bugger, I’m shit at metaphors. Point is, that’s in the past, an’ even though you might think ‘bout it sometimes its still in the past. And I love ya.”

☆Engineer☆

Notices something’s off immediately, he’s a smart guy after all

Once you two are alone he’ll place a hand on your shoulder and ask you “Are you alright?” in that sweet voice that just makes you burst out into tears

Pats your back and hugs you as you cry “Shh, it’s alright sugar, it’s alright. You wanna talk about it?”

If you don’t want to he’ll scoop you up in his arms (but I’m taller than- yes. He can pick you up too) and get you some warm food

“Y’know, my momma said that a good hot meal is the best after bawlin’ your eyes out. We don’t exactly got anything you’d call a meal right now, but I can fix you up some toast with cinnamon if you'd like, honeybee.”

If you do tell him he’ll reassure you that everything okay

“Honey, I know the past ain’t really ever somethin’ that leaves, but you gotta remember things are alright right now. Stuff from back then can’t getcha, sure it hurts sometimes but you gotta remember things are good right now. And I’m here for you.”

Gives you so many kisses

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

[eddiediazismyhusband]

just a caual reminder that eddie does not need to kiss, date, or sleep with anyone other than buck to make his queerness any more valid

queer characters don’t need to hookup a bunch of times and date around before settling down because queer people irl don’t have to do that either

there are other ways a character can “let loose” and blow off steam than just throwing them into a hookup plotline, and doing so with eddie would just rehash the buck 1.0 plotline and would be lazy writing

not to mention it being yet another roadblock for buddie canon

like ik it can be frustrating to see the writers refusing to give eddie any care within the story and giving him some sort of happy arc, but that doesn’t mean that the only way he can be happy is by simply dating a man… just like how bt isnt narratively satisfying, eddie dating a random man isn’t going to be narratively satisfying either… i want queer eddie as much as the next person and honestly, if it had been a few seasons ago maybe i wouldn’t be as apprehensive to this kind of arc, but this show isn’t going to last forever… i don’t want them to keep dragging buddie out convoluting the plot by bringing in more li’s for both of them just because the fans are “okay with stepping stone relationships”

we’re entering season 8. we’re entering the 7th year of buddie being a ship. we don’t have time nor need for stepping stone relationships anymore. i know that jealousy and mutual pining arcs are enjoyable, but atp anything prolonging them getting together is just risking us never getting buddie… i don’t want a repeat of s6 where they wind up with shit engame li’s bc they wasted too much damn time dragging their feet and giving them these rando love interests

we also run the risk of fans jumping ship again if eddie were to get a male li that isn’t buck because there are so many people out there who (like w bt) just wanna see eddie kiss a man and once they get that, they’ll ditch the buddie ship, and we’ll once again find ourselves struggling to stay afloat

yes ik this show is a drama, ik slowburns thrive off drama, but this slowburn has been building since s3 (arguably s2 for some of us) it has been beyond enough time for them to keep it a slowburn; they need to actually go through with it now rather than continuing to bait us bc Ryan and Oliver both deserve better storylines to play than that.

i am obviously trying to remain cautious and will not trust the writers to handle things well until they do, but it doesn’t help our cause to be suggesting storylines this late in the game that will only serve to convolute the plot even more than it already is at this point. these tropes are amazing in fics that have no set end date, but 9-1-1 as a show is not going to run forever— we don’t even know if we are even going to get a 9th season yet. This could very well be our last opportunity to get buddie canon, and cheering on plotlines that would push buddie canon even further back on the roster is only going to dilute our chances even more.

i say this with love, not with spite, but i have seen a lot of people wishing for/posting about how they hope to see these storylines play out and i’m here to say we are not in a position for any of these anymore, and that’s just the unfortunate reality of a show entering its 8th season in a television environment where shows are lucky to get past 2 or 3 seasons.

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @tizniz @bidisasterbuckdiaz @honestlydarkprincess 💖💖

still on my bucktommy bs, I'll be back to buddie but i'm too obsessed with tommy/lou to think about anything else rn lol

so here's a bit of something short I'm wiriting for 7x05 from tommy's pov, idk what this is, what it's gonna be, but I wanna finish it tonight or maybe by the end of the weekend so posting it here to motivate myself and also tell me what y'all think bc the more i reread all of it the more i doubt myself lol

___

It took him some time, plus a lot of self-reflection and just taking it one step at a time, letting himself look at other men, this time consciously and sometimes deliberately, noticing how hot they are, how they make him feel. He let himself feel how they make him feel. It took a minute to stop feeling guilty and ashamed, and to rework all those internalized prejudices that had been ingrained in him his whole life.

He gave himself time, a lot of time, started with just chatting with guys on dating apps, later got the courage for some casual dates, and when he met the man who would be his first actual boyfriend, his first gay relationship, that he genuinely liked, he felt ready to pursue that. It didn’t work out then, that’s just life, but it was a good relationship, because he was ready for it. Now he feels settled and comfortable with himself, feels confident, and knows what he wants. And he wants- he wants love. He doesn’t want to put any pressure on any relationship he might start, but ultimately, that’s the goal. Love. 

He really doesn’t mind being this first to Evan. He likes Evan. He has those bright blue eyes that seem to shine their own light, and that wide, excited smile that makes it impossible not to smile back, with that adorable dimple accompanying it, that makes Tommy melt a little every time he sees it. Plus, those perfect, kissable lips he can’t wait to taste again, and the distinctive birthmark just adding to the charm. And he’s big and strong and so hot, too. And he’s just so nice, and so adorable and endearing, and he’s so easy to talk to. Tommy just wants to keep getting to know him, spend time with him, develop this relationship and see where it can go. And with any luck, maybe this one could last, could be something real.

The thing is, Tommy is ready for serious. He can take it slow, give Evan time to figure everything out, but he’d also like to know where he stands. He would never want to pressure him to come out before he’s ready, but he also knows he doesn’t want to be anyone’s dirty little secret. Been there, done that.

Still, he would be fine with keeping it just to him and Evan for now, for as long as Evan needs. But then…

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @your-catfish-friend @hippolotamus @daffi-990

[ddejavvu]

Eddie x reader where reader has chronic tummy issues (puking randomly in the middle of the night for no damn reason) but it’s one of her biggest fears even though she should be used to it, Eddie comforts her every time she calls out for him no matter what bc his girl needs him ofc

cw // throwing up

--

You're not sure what's worse, pre-puke, or post-puke. Pre-puke has you waking up in a cold sweat, bolting upright and out of bed to dash for the bathroom. Pre-puke is your stomach churning, bile rising in your throat that seems to choke you. Post-puke, though, has you sobbing over the toilet bowl, flecks of sick dotting the rim, a nasty taste lingering on your tongue.

The one good thing about post-puke is Eddie. You drearily call out for him, though the word is garbled as you speak without closing your mouth. You don't want to taste any more of your dinner, not for a second time.

"Ed-die!" You repeat, tears joining the sick in the toilet, "Eddie please come here!"

That rouses him. For someone who so often needs assistance in the middle of the night, you've chosen an unusually heavy sleeper to ask for assistance from.

You can hear a thud as he rolls out of bed, limbs working to untangle himself from the covers instead of catch him as he falls. He jogs into the doorway, gruff, sleep-ridden voice telling you that he's 'comin', sweetheart, 'm comin'.'

He reaches you in a few quick steps across the tile, and his feet stick slightly to the floor. His hands are clammy too when they sweep over your forehead, collecting baby hairs that aren't already tied up in your sleep updo. he tucks the wispies behind your ears, keeping them free of the toilet bowl.

"All done?" He asks, his free hand rubbing circles on your back. You're sure the stench of your vomit is as unpleasant to him as it is to you, but you don't want to flush it down if more is going to come up right away.

"'Dunno," You grumble, sniffling miserably, "I don't feel better."

"Alright," His voice is strained as he lowers himself to the floor, tattoos on full display as his chest remains bare and unclothed, "You wanna snooze?"

He offers his shoulder, but you shake your head.

"I can't," You whimper, tears budding like pearls in your eyes, "I- I can't sleep, Eddie, I'm just gonna wake up sick again and it's scary!"

"I know," He croons, his voice progressively less raspy as he uses it more, "I know, sweetheart. Let's wait, then. Let's wait until your stomach starts settling, okay? Then we can talk about sleeping."

"Okay," You resign, but the lingering fear of slumber still resides in your chest like a monster, lurking in the shadows to jump out at any moment. Your thumbs twiddle with each other and Eddie reaches for them, tucking your hair securely into place before letting it go. His hand, calloused and rough, grates against your own with a soft, warm touch. He leaves a trail of comfort wherever he touches, dragging his fingers up your arm and rubbing at a knot in your shoulder. A single tear rolls down your cheek and he reaches up to kiss it away, neck craned to press his lips against the apple of your cheek.

You feel bad for keeping him up. His eyes are half-closed, sleep crusting their corners. He never accepts your apologies, though, and if you try now he'll send you a goofy grin and tell you it's just more time he gets to spend with you. You choose to take serenity from his presence, instead of harboring guilt, and let the pads of his fingers erase your worries with every soft knead into your flesh.

"Any better?" He asks, a few minutes' silence shattering in the bathroom.

"A bit," You nod, focusing on the receding ache in your belly. He's standing the second you make the move to, joints cracking as he straightens.

"Toothbrush," He squirts a dollop of paste onto the brush, handing it to you while it drips with faucet water. While you're busy brushing the sick out of your mouth he takes care of what's in the toilet, flushing it away with a quick baby wipe to the seat. When your limbs prove too tired to move you back to bed he dabs at the toothpaste at the corners of your lips and hauls you away. You let yourself sink into his embrace only to be ripped from it when he sets you down on the mattress, but at your soft, displeased whine, he clamors onto the bed. He tucks the blanket over the both of you, lips dotting a kiss to your forehead.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," He bids you for a second time that night, punctuating his words with a feather-light pat to your belly and tummy-talk, "And no more, you little shit."

[ruthlesslistener]

do you have any headcanons for anything you've been holding onto, but haven't had a good chance to post about? I love your fics and I wanna peer into your mind palace

Shhdhchs EXCELLENT bc ive had a lot of thoughts but this quarter + anxiety in general has been killin me

-Okay so I'm still hyperfixated on Destiny 2 bc of a DnDestiny game I'm in, but since Hollow Knight is a special interest and I read a couple of frankly stunning crossover fics (one with the Inheritance Cycle, one with Transformers, both are outstanding and I will recc them wholeheartedly if you ask- the TF one especially blew my tits clean off which is saying something bc I have zero TF knowledge, also its 500k words but I'm rambling), my brain has been essentially locked into the concept of a crossover AU where a couple of my D2 OCs get slingshot into the HK world via a fucked-up warpgate through wish-dragon magic, and it's now got me kind of obsessed with the idea of the world of Hollow Knight taking place on an alien planet that had some convergent evolution re: general insect body plans, but went off the fuckin' rails with everything else. So here's some worldbuilding thoughts on that:

-Their planet would be far from Earth and the origin place of the Ahamkara and precursor race to the Worm Gods, who are distant relatives to each other that took to the stars to opportunistically feed off of rifts in reality. They are in turn sister taxa to the Wyrms and Higher Beings from Hollow Knight, who also feed off of the wants, desires, and gulf between what-is-desired-and-what-is-true, but unlike the worms and wish-dragons, the Higher Beings are essentially 'settled' species. They're the farming civilization to the hunter-gatherers of their Destiny-based kindred, and yes, both branches of the family tree fucking despise each other and look down scornfully on the other's lifestyle. The Higher Beings view the Worms and Ahamkara as little more than scavengers, while the Worms and Ahamkara see the Higher Beings as glorified slavedrivers with sticks up their asses- though it should be noted that since the Ahamkara's whole deal so far has been malignant trickery as a hunting style, this doesn't neccessarily carry the same negative connotations that it would in our society. I also don't know enough about the proto-Worms to say how their race would react, but the Worm Gods as they are now certainly are something that Wyrms would look down on

-(Yes that means I have thought extensively about the Pale King's ghost bristling aggressively at a baby ahamkara barely a few hours old. In my defense, it's funny, and also I almost never remember to write him as the cold, prickly, arrogant ass that he is bc his kids make him Big Sad)

-The planet would likely be smaller than Earth with lighter gravity, though how much smaller I can't say because I'm not a fuckin' physicist. I just want an excuse for making fuckoff-huge animals a thing even beyond the inherent space magic thing going on

-Oh, and most life is underground because the atmosphere is thinner than Earth and so the upper surface gets bombarded with deadly amounts of radiation, which causes the mind-wiping effects of the Wastes (where the angle towards their sun is the greatest and thus the strongest). Ngl I did briefly think about potential magnetic field fluxes also being the cause of that effect but like, I cannot overstate how little I know of things outside biology

-HK being set on an alien planet lets me do wack shit with the species there too bc I'm no longer bound by comparing them to Earthbound species. For example, I can make Quirrel an isopod with cricket legs. Who's going to stop me, God? He doesn't exist here

-That also means I can stop being bothered by Herrah's dubious leg placement bc it would kill me forever otherwise

-Also, them being on an alien planet gives me even more of an excuse to never put traditional vertebrate species in there, which is great. I've said it before, but putting Earth vertebrates in the HK setting totally ruins all the fun for me because I love the concept of all the species diversity being made up of invertebrates, and that the 'advanced' bugs we see have filled the niche that vertebrates would have otherwise taken over. Like the carboniferous period but on steroids

General HK thoughts too:

-been toying with the idea of wyrms having a set of evertable inner jaws like polychaete worms, which would be used for keeping dirt out of the mouth and biting off chunks to eat, while the outer jaws (the ones we see) are used for killing, digging, and sparring with other wyrms. The idea is that the outer ring of mandibles bites big circular chunks out of the substrate, which then breaks off into tiny pieces they filter out in between gaps in their mandibles and pack down into tunnel walls as they move forward

-I've also been toying with the idea of them secreting some kind of mucus as they dig that's almost a calcifying substance, but now that I think about it, I can probs just put those glands in their frontal mouth so if they need to reinforce a tunnel (like, say, one burrowed in sand instead of rock), they can mix their saliva in with the substrate to chemically solidify the tunnel walls

-Which btw is a major thing for ecosystems bc the tunnels are used for lots of different things by lots of different species. Wyrms are terraformers baybee!! Kinda the same way wildfires are, but still

-I've also been thinking about maybe making it so that the row of plates I like to draw on their backs act as a secondary pair of belly scutes, which means that wyrms can slither just as easily upside down as they can on their undersides, which helps underground. It's not as efficient as the super-smooth scales on a blind snake, but that's the tradeoff they get for needing to be so heavily armoured

-I'm also leaning towards making marine/freshwater variants that are just straight-up bobbit worms on even more steroids, but since I already have fuckoff huge marine alien bobbit worms in a scifi setting of mine, I'd need to figure out a way to make them unique

-I learned that there's internalized folds of exoskeleton for muscle attatchment in my invertebrate biology course and got really excited about that being a potential basis for the formation of skeletal elements in the world of Hollow Knight- like, maybe bug bones started off as those lil folds (i forgot their technical name which is embaressing bc i literally just took the final this night) becoming stronger and deeper-set into the body to better support the weight of larger and larger bugs, and then it spiraled into a skeleton analogue from there. Being derived from the exoskeleton probably means that it would be less strong than our bones, but it would likely also be lighter

Misc:

-God I really need to write Hornet in Silksong so bad. Fuck. I need need need to write this mildly autistic unsocialized princess running amok in a civilization that isn't ready for her. Also my interpretation of Lace is basically an oc at this point but I don't want to do anything with her just yet bc that shits a lot of work, I just need to write everything down for her so far (and tbh Lurien probs also counts at this point but thats more filling a niche that TC left unfufilled)

-I've also got gijinka thoughts in that I'm leaning towards making Lurien a trans guy who didn't have any gender-affirming surgeries bc a.) I love love love making a variety of trans characters and b.) Hallownest isn't a society where the concept of being transgender is an issue, so there's no need to do it to pass, only to prioritize your own comfort. And since Lurien never expected to be seen in anything but his formalware, he never saw the point of bothering

-(The aformentioned point also applies to normal bug Lurien but this is more of a personal thing here)

-Need to focus more on how the latent magic of the god of a realm changes your eye colour, with the more intense the shade = the more involved you are with their magic. Using Lurien as an example again: his eyes were brown naturally, but after he became Watcher, they slowly shifted to shades of paler and paler blue. I also like the idea of Quirrel's eyes getting more blue the more memories of Hallownest he unlocks, until they're the same shade as the Blue Lake in his final scene

-This can also happen in reverse; for example, my Lace gijinka starts off with gold eyes to signify the church of Pharloom's hold over her, but then slowly revert back to brown as Hornet gives her more and more hope that the institution can be toppled, until they're eventually their natural deep brown with just the faintest flecks of silver in them (signifying Hornet's importance in her life)

-It just occurred to me the other day when I was at work that Striga and Morgana from Castlevania S3 are almost exactly how I imagined my Vespa and Herrah gijinkas to be and now I can't stop thinking about it. The main difference is that my Herrah is a fat spider-orc with tats and Vespa is a fae queen with bee features shimmering through her human veil, but still. Its uncanny

[filmbyjy]

I saw this reel on insta and a haikyuu scenario with the post that said: 'im in the library and here's a bf helping his gg study and I've been overhearing part of their conversation for the last hour and said "babe, I'm gonna be honest with you. You're going to fail this test, I love you, but there's nothing we can do about it now"

can you do a imagine based on this with Jay and or any other member if you wanna add

(I have my finals coming up plus another exam in a few day. SEND HELP)

a/n: HELP??? WHY DO I ACTUALLY SEE JAY SAYING THIS?? jay giving you that reality check🤙🏻 also good luck!! I currently have projects due soon hence I’m rushing my work🤧

pairing: park jongseong x fem!reader

genre: studying with bf, fluff

word count: 1K words

warning: there is no real huge warning but there is tons of jay pecking/kissing you. that's a warning itself bc i'd die to kiss jay

there is no hope

finals

everyone hated them. it was the constant studying and staying up that made everyone hate it. nobody likes staying up to work on some stupid mathematic exam. cramming formulas till 4am in the morning was a nightmare.

your phone pings when a notification pops up. it startled you a little since you were heavily concentrated on your studies.

*1 message from jongseong🧸*

— placing this in case the read more messes up —

jongseong🧸: babe, are you still in the library? bc it’s dark in there.

you: why tf are you outside? didn’t you want to catch up on some sleep bc rugby was kicking your ass?

jongseong🧸: bc i’m a great boyfriend and I care about my girlfriend that I can forget about my shit sleep schedule

you: aww jongseong :((

you: i’m at the McDonald’s nearby

jongseong🧸: oh cool. i was kinda craving for some chicken nuggets! i’m bringing my books to help you too.

you: really? thank you, babe🫶🏻

jongseong🧸: anytime love❤️

-

it was about 15 minutes later when you heard someone sitting in front of you. you knew that familiar scent, it was your boyfriend. you looked up and gave him a warm smile before looking back down at your notes.

he lifts your chin up and leans to peck your lips.

“can’t even get a kiss from my girl without her looking away from her notes.”

“it’s 1am. the workers are staring, babe.” you whisper. jay rolls his eyes.

“well they won’t be staring if i’m here as a valued customer.” jay winks. you sighed.

“could you get me coffee?”

“at 1am? babe, you’re insane.”

“i’m going to need coffee to survive studying till 3am at least.”

jay shakes his head, “fine. i’ll get you some latte or something. nothing too strong because you won’t be able to sleep.”

“aww such a caring and sweet boyfriend I have.” you say. jay smirks.

“you do have a great boyfriend.” he steals kiss from you before going over to order something.

you remained glued to your work. however, nothing was really going in your brain. by now, jay had brought your coffee over and it still couldn’t help you.

“jayyyy, I can’t do this anymore.”

he scans through your notes. nothing made sense to him. he sighs.

“i’m gonna be honest, babe. you definitely failing this test. a 100%. your notes make zero sense to me.”

“you mean to tell me I’ve been studying shitty notes that I thought would help me??” you groaned and banged your head on the table. it catches a few of the workers attention but they quickly dismiss it.

“look, baby. if you wanna pass this test. I can always help you.” jay says.

“really?”

“of course but first, let’s get out of here and hop in my car.”

“why do I feel like this isn’t going to help me at all.” you glared at the boy. he chuckles.

“trust me, love. it’s definitely going to help.” he smirks. you rolled your eyes.

the both of you left the McDonald’s with your things to get into jay’s car. he places both of yours and his things down. once you settled in, you turned to jay.

“so what’s this genius plan of yours?”

“kiss.”

“are you serious, jongseong.”

“i’ll test you and every right answer you get equals to a kiss from yours truly.”

“you are so needy, babe.” you huffed.

“this is beneficial for the both of us. come on.” jay pouts.

you tried to weigh the pros and cons. honestly, there were definitely more pros than cons. you got to kiss jay, he would help you with passing the test and you got to spend time with him. what more could you ask?

"fine." jay smiles at your words.

after letting you read his notes for the topic, he would test you.

"you got 5 answers right. which means, i get to kiss you 5 times." jay says.

"yeah but you tested me 10 questions. i got half of them correct."

"which means you will pass. see i did something good. now, pucker up." jay says.

he leans in and pecks your lips once.

"jongseong-" he pecks it once again.

"this method didn't help." *peck*

"park jongseong." *peck*

"ooo one more." he leans in once again but this time, the kiss goes on far more than a peck. jay's hands rest on your waist. you completely forgot you were even upset in the first place. well that is until you actually remembered you were upset with him. you pushed him away.

"jay, i'm serious. i don't think i'll pass the test." you huffed.

"i'm sorry, i just i miss you. you've been pretty busy lately with studying. how about i help for real this time, hmm?"

"you're making me feel bad now. i'm sorry i don't spend time as much with you." you pout.

"it's alright, you're busy with school work."

"i feel like everyone is advancing faster than me so i take my free time to catch up with everyone. i don't even catch the topic sometimes and i just feel frustrated." you voiced out. jay squeezes your hand.

"well, i'm here. i can help you, babe. you don't have to hesitate to call me or text me when you need help."

"i know. i just feel bad."

jay shakes his head, "you don't have to feel bad. that's my duty as your boyfriend to help you and stay by your side."

"isn't that a job for a husband?" you deadpan.

"we're going to get married eventually, what's the difference." jay nudges your shoulder. you blushed.

"yeah, i guess we are."

"mrs.park, would you like me to help you really study now?"

"yes, mr.park." jay snorts. he leans in to peck your lips.

"okay, where did we stop at?" he says as he scans the notes.

[tboycamilo]

in the spirit of the season (mutuals posting about their encanto aus) i wanted to post about mine bc i love them and am not active enough on here and wanna change that bc sharing my stuff is fun! so without further ado here they are lol

next gen au

pretty self explanatory. the story outlines what all the madrigals (mostly the grandkids) are up to in the years following the movie. mirabel gradually takes on more of a leadership role as time passes and eventually becomes the matriarch after alma's death and with enough time to prepare for the role. under her leadership, the madrigals are less shoehorned into roles and are encouraged to express themselves more freely, but being the leader still isn't easy and things still aren't perfect - while alma is still alive, mirabel often finds herself going to her for advice and repairing their bond further in the process. she also gets a gf (lorena), i've been playing around with the idea of her being an outsider that finds her way into the encanto but i would have to flesh that plot out a little more before i make it official. dolores eventually marries mariano, but only on her terms - she realizes quickly after the movie that though she loves mariano, she wants to take things slow, and mariano is more than happy to respect that. he puts in a lot of effort to understand how her gift works and help her out with it whenever he can, and for once, she feels like the one being heard. isabela, now free of her old role as the golden child, begins to let her more adventurous side out, exploring the outskirts and forests of the encanto to observe the plant life. she hones her gift and is able to bring even more exotic plant species to the encanto and starts up a very successful garden. she also ends up marrying two village women - lilli and rosa - and the three of them adopt a daughter, jacinda, together and spoil her rotten. lilli runs a flower shop and isa helps her out immensely with this. luisa finally learns to take it easy, prioritizing rest and relaxation after so many years of working hard to serve the community - though she definitely still loves to lift and hang out with the donkeys in her spare time bc old habits die hard. she probably takes over the care and raising of the donkeys as a whole bc they love her. she marries a village woman, inés, and they adopt two daughters, valentina and ciela. camilo is actually the first grandkid to settle down - he marries his childhood best friend and love of his life marco, and the two of them have six children together - amelia, imelda, brunito, ignacio, felipe, and sofia. they have their hands quite full with fatherhood but on top of that marco works as a teacher at the encanto's school while camilo continues to volunteer in the community, eventually becoming the drama director and soccer coach for the school. antonio grows up and starts his own animal sanctuary in the encanto that becomes wildly successful. he enlists dolores' help to scope out any injured or sick animals in the forests and nurses them back to health at the sanctuary, and he often accompanies isa on her trips to the forest to keep taxonomy records of the encanto's diverse wildlife. he never had much of an interest in romance - though plenty of people swoon over his kindness to the animals - but he is very fulfilled nonetheless and couldn't be happier helping take care of his animal friends. i have a more detailed timeline and bios for the kids that i'll be posting eventually but this is the main rundown of where the grandkids are at years down the line!

swap

essentially follows the plot of the movie but the sides of the family swap roles. instead of alma, pedro is the head of the family. pepa has the gift of healing food and felix is her clumsy husband, camilo is the golden child with the wonderful floral gift, dolores is the middle child with the gift of super strength, and antonio is the baby of his side of the family, cursed to a giftless existence (and being the main character of the storyline). on the other side of the family, julieta's emotions control the weather while agustin keeps her calm, luisa is the eldest with the ability to hear a pin drop from miles away, isabela is the mischievous shapeshifting middle child, and mirabel is the youngest member of the family and gains the ability to speak with animals. bruno is still bruno.  did i make this au entirely to put camilo in pretty pink outfits and make him a mean annoying gay? maybe.

pirates

the warm color family is a fearsome and renowned pirate crew descended from the notorious husband-wife pirate duo alma and pedro madrigal (the latter is dead and the former has long since retired), with pepa as the captain and felix as the first mate. pepa was estranged from her mother and siblings in her youth as she attempted to learn more about her parents' past, and she soon set out on her own to live the pirate life that alma tried so hard to keep her children out of. in the meantime, julieta and her family form their own rival crew and set sail in search of pepa to take their vengeance. bruno tries his best to be a good mama's boy and stay home, but he is soon taken hostage by the fearless captain hernando, a legendary pirate who has feuded with both madrigal sisters and their crews for a while now. he grows rather fond of his bargaining chip over time and bruno eventually becomes the captain's lover and first mate. when the sisters finally put aside their squabbles and unite to save their brother from their enemy's clutches, it's a very awkward family reunion. also everyone has their gifts and uses them to help their crew in one way or another. eventually when the two sides of the family unite, the grandkids take up a ship of their own with mirabel as the new captain. 

roommates

marco and camilo are college roommates with luca and alberto. that's literally it no linear plot just vibes. luca is a first year astronomy student, alberto is a second year student and undeclared, marco and camilo are third years and marco is majoring in education while being on the soccer team and camilo is majoring in theatre (🤢). alberto and camilo despise each other but also camilo is lowkey crushing. camilo and marco are already dating and alberto and luca are also definitely together but heavily in denial about it. they fight over dishes being left in the sink and decorate their dorm all cute

the fall 

wrote a ten chapter fic about this one so read that if you wanna know what it entails but tl;dr au where the family never recovers after the fall of casita and they go their separate ways, with dolores camilo and isa fully moving out, their whereabouts unknown - until, ten years later, mirabel takes it upon herself to track them down, reunite the family once and for all, and save the miracle for real this time. will she succeed? what have the runaways all been up to over these past ten years? read it and find out i'm not telling you! also this fic/au is quite old compared to the others so no marco 😔 fly high king 

mamma mia 

the silliest dumbest most self indulgent au ever. camilo centric of course. the storyline is literally just mamma mia but with camilo. he has twin daughters and one of them (ima) is getting married and wants to invite her other biological father to the wedding - the only problem is she doesn't know who that is, and if camilo's old diary describing all his old hookups in detail is to be believed,  there's three possibilities - marco osma, dante velazquez, and nicolas sorelli (the latter two are ocs, i'll probably post their bios at some point lol also nicolas is trans so he's definitely not the other dad but he's stealth so he's just going along for the ride). she invites all three of them to her wedding and they reunite with camilo for the first time in twenty years. drama ensues. camilo marries marco at the end regardless of if he's the dad or not (but he probably is - they never find out for sure). isa is tanya (so lilli is pepper ofc) and mirabel is rosie (except she doesn't end up with one of the dads at the end bc she actually respects herself). ima's fiancées identity is yet to be determined bc i don't have a partner oc for her but i do know she's a lesbian so. gay greek weddings! camilo in overalls! love wins!

runaway camilo 

this one is a rewrite of the canon plot to a degree but not really enough to be considered a full on au. plays with the scrapped concept of camilo looking completely different after the fall of casita that didn't make it into the final movie, which is like one of my favorite concepts ever especially because of how easily it plays into trans camilo. in this rewrite, camilo has basically used his gift to masculinize himself perpetually since his ceremony, which all but cures his dysphoria - that is, until casita falls, he loses the gift he had become dependent on, and it all blows up in his face. he's unrecognizable when the dust clears, and rather than be seen in such a state, he flees the scene and goes missing just around the same time as mirabel. the family is split as pepa and felix go looking for their son while the cool color family goes looking for mirabel, and both are found within a few days - camilo in the depths of the forest, skin scraped and clothes ragged from running into the forest with reckless abandon, practically digging his own grave and ready to give up for good. when he's found, it takes a LONG time for him to allow anyone to see him, much less recover from the trauma. the rewrite basically involves these events and the aftermath. luckily camilo does get his gift back when casita is rebuilt but the scars are forever and he probably still has nightmares about losing his gift well into adulthood and has to learn to become comfortable going without his gift for short bouts of time in order to get more comfortable lest the worst case scenario happens again! more or less a transmilo angst fest add-on to the main plot of the movie. mimi needs a hug 💔

[bitbrumal]

BLOG REOPENING

hewwo hewwo fellas & fuckos. winks with both eyes. i'm possibly going to slide in around here throughout the holiday season bc the writing itch be itching, so i'll provide an update on the muse list & the dynamics / threads i'd like to keep ( if y'all are also down ) from before my break.

if you would like this post if you're ( still / again / whatever ) interested in writing with me, i'd really appreciate it ! it'd let me know where to get started again ❤ i'm mainly looking for threads over meme replies, although the threads don't have to be lengthy or involved per se. inbox things just aren't doing it for me.

MUSES

UNDER RECONSIDERATION : KHIONIYA / TSARITSA ( open to all )

I wanna keep her, but I've gotta rewrite her. I've been going on pure wishfulfilment MommyTM vibes, but we need a bit more canon accuracy lmfao. Goddess/Archon of Love, yes, but I ought not ignore that she has become like a reversed tarot card :joy:

SCRAPPED : ALHAITHAM

I should be feeling this criminally autistic nerd, but I'm not. Maybe I will some day. I'm leaving him be for right now.

SCRAPPED : CAPITANO

't isn't happening. i'm not... doing what i wanna be doing with him & i also don't care so fwhoop that one's going.

ADDED : WRIOTHESLEY

No-one's surprised. Daddy came home with the milk the moment I called for him, & uh. As soon as I actually fucking play the Fontaine quests I'm sure I'll pick him up. ( I accidentally spoilered myself on his tragicTM backstory & on god this man is a king. ) ( If I fall sideways into neuvilette instead nobody laugh at me. )

KEPT : DOTTORE ( semi-selectively open to all - he's picky & that limits my options ) REGRATOR ( for select fatui threads unless smth Happens ) TARTAGLIA ( open to all ) KAEYA ( open to all ) DILUC ( open to all )

THREADS & DYNAMICS

Obviously I understand if we're not on the same page about carrying on where we left off, no hard feelings. We can start over, pick something new, slap new muses together, or do nothing it all. Issal GucciTM.

LIKE I NEVER LEFT LOL :

I'd love to pick back up where I left off with @galactia, on any & all muses, their dynamics, & also threads c:

The same goes for @bunnyshot, although I see you haven't been online in ages! Regardless, if we're ever on the timeline at the same time again you know I am down to clown. This includes your other muses.

@torrentide HOMIE. HOMIE. HOMIE. HOME BREWSKI. i am down for everything from before & more, idc what.

If @greedbent is still down to clown, I'd love to carry on with what we were brainstorming in the DMs.

Same to you, @howthesleeplesswander!! I see you writing in another fandom on the dash atm, so I get it if you're not in the vibes for what we were brainstorming in the DMs, but I'm still hype to write with you if the mood strikes you. Lmk if you're down :thumbsup: ❤

@xiielians You know idek wtf you're doing right now bc much as the dramatic chinese gaylords captivate me, I haven't indulged in the fandom + I'm waiting patiently on that novel of yours with eyes peeled—but if you wanna play with anything ( whether I know the fandom/char or not ), I'm sure I'll be game!!

@ncrthlandbank I'd love to continue what we were doing with vlad & alyos ❤ if you're down! The thread where regrator terrorizes vlad is one of my alltime faves & still lives rent-free in my head :weary: it's the only time i did him any type of justice & your no-longer-non-playable-characters are awesome.

REBOOT :

Here go all of my moots with who i never fully settled anything ( dynamic / muse / thread-wise ), but was vaguely interacting with on the dash here & there... I am down to clown with all of you, I'd love to start something be it serious or silly. Whether you wanna continue vaguely doing things here & there or you wanna plot something out, idgaf I am so down to clown i am . the whole circus. vamos lmao.

[reorientation]

I'm that one Anon who is ace FtM and wanted to know about other "FtM"s experiences with risky sex and getting knocked up, and I am Living for all of these people coming forward to either reveal their accidental pregnancy, or confessing how badly they want to be bred!

It reminds me of a fantasy of mine that I recently had that I wanted to share: across the street from my house is a big parking lot and series of stores, so we get a lot of homeless people and panhandlers and the like. And I imagined one day, after work, approaching one of the homeless men and making an offer.

"so I don't carry any cash on me and don't have my wallet, but if you want, we can find somewhere and I can give you a handjob?" and he'd be skeptical at first but eventually shrug and agree. We go to the nearby park (it's late at night so it's empty save for some other sleeping or zoned out homeless people) and I start to jack him off, slowly but surely. I'm a virgin and it shows, and he mocks me for it, and before too long I'm squirming on the bench and soaking wet bc I HAVE to fuck him.

I immediately offer him my dripping wet pussy and he's surprised for a moment bc he couldn't tell if I was a boy or a girl, but that settles it, and he agrees enthusiastically. I love the idea of being fucked in a public bathroom by a stranger, so we pick a place and start to walk over. During the walk I tell him all of my conditions for fucking me: "don't lick me or kiss me. You can give me hickies but only if there somewhere I can hide them, like my shoulders or my chest. Don't fondle my chest, I don't have much feeling there and no breasts anyways. Don't touch my asshole. That's pretty much it"

"there's a convenience store nearby, you got condoms?" He asks gruffly. I blink wide eyes at him as we get to the McDonald's we plan on fucking in the restrooms of. "Oh, I was planning on letting you cum inside of my bare cunt" now he looks surprised by clearly turned on

"shit. You on any--"

"birth control? Nah. But the risk is more than half the fun for me. That's why I don't wanna know your name, and why I'm not taking off my hat or pulling down my mask. If I get knocked up, it's going to be by a total stranger" he doesn't waste any time corralling me into the bathroom. There's a private family room with a door that locks, and no one is paying attention, so we go in there and I quickly pull my pants down to my knees and lean against the wall

"hurry up and fuck me" I pant, and he doesn't even pull his pants down further than bellow mid thigh before he's thrusting his hard cock into me and I'm hiding my moans. He gets closer and I start to whisper "yes yes yes, inside me, cum inside me, knock me up, wanna have a stranger's baby!" and he cums so hard inside of me that we both see white.

I do my best to keep his cum in me, and I thank him. He thanks me as well and then offers to let the other homeless people around here know about me being a bareback cum dump. I get him to ensure they're all clean and agree to come back over the next few weeks, taking dozens of raw loads from strangers inside my unprotected pussy.

In an ideal situation, I would get knocked up, carry to term, deliver my baby, and then wait at least 4 weeks before going out to get pregnant again. But ofc this is a fantasy, and even if I did let a bunch of men raw my pussy, I would likely not get pregnant :(

Thought you and some of your followers would like to hear my thoughts tho ❤️

This particular scenario isn't quite my thing, but posting it for others' enjoyment!

And yes, being the recipient of all those life stories - fertile little "boys" learning that they're going to be mommies, or giving in to their pussies and knowing what the result will be, or just turning from self-respecting "trans men" into frantic bitches in heat - is maybe my favorite part of running this blog.

[lycan-subscribe]

hi! I saw your post about Springfield and while I appreciate where you heart is, I would really appreciate if you did not say things like we have crumbling infranstrucre and no public transportation (we still have public bussing) and no education (many Springfield kids go on to very good colleges bc of the education they got here or even go to our city's university or community college). We have had students recently get admitted to Ivy League schools. We have so many programs for students to earn college credit while in high school.

Springfield isn't the best city around but there's been a lot of good things happening, and a lot of the city is a lot better off than it was when I was kid. Most of all, a lot of us are not taking kindly to other people speaking on our behalf. We're tired of people not from Springfield talking about us. Your heart was in the right place, and I appreciate what you did. But please do not make it sound like we're living in some destitute city. All my life I have heard from people outside of Springfield asking me if I'm scared to live here, etc. bc of the stereotypes that every inch of us is crumbling buildings and drug addicts and gang violence.

We have: beautiful murals by local artists, teachers who care about all their students, a really good public library system, thriving local businesses. There's a lot of things not going well in Springfield, but please don't speak for us.

i appreciate you starting a respectful discussion about this, i really do. looking back on what i wrote, i do think i came off as dismissive of the city as a whole in a way i didn’t intend.

i’ve been ruminating on what i said last night and i do think i could’ve and should’ve worded some things better and made my intentions a little more clear - i don’t want to speak for the city, as my experience with it is colored by the fact that i don’t live there. i meant only to speak for my experience with it in an extremely condensed manner but in doing so i think i left out some crucial context.

you’re right, it is better in a lot of ways than it used to be! i’ve noticed more art, more local businesses (especially the restaurants!!) and snyder park in particular is absolutely beautiful - my aunt and uncle are actually master gardeners that help take care of the gardens there. so i know there is beauty, both in the physical landscape and in the people living in it, in springfield that is absolutely worth talking about and celebrating and i really should’ve brought more attention to that.

i also wanna make something else clear: i don’t think springfield is uniquely affected by propaganda and racist/right wing rhetoric. my city (which is a hop skip and a jump away) has been affected by it too, and long before the haitian immigrants began to settle in springfield. this whole /country/ is seeped in it, especially right now, especially in places like the ohio/the midwest (hello rust belt).

i think i was just angry. angry that somewhere so close to my hometown was making national news in the worst possible way, angry that i had to speak out to my coworkers who were making jokes about it, angry that the problems springfield DOES have are going ignored because of targeted misinformation and corrupt politicians. i’m sorry i misrepresented the city as a whole, i really am - but i do want it to be known that my intent wasn’t to trash springfield or make it sound like there’s nothing there worth making note of. there is! it is a diverse city and there are so many people working to make it a better place. that’s worth celebrating. i just want people to understand that the blatant racism and bigotry being touted by some of the people who live there didn’t spring up overnight, and i wanted to emphasize the thing that make people more susceptible to propaganda: a sense of disenfranchisement.

i still don’t know if i’m getting my point across entirely effectively but i want you to know: i’m sorry, truly, for letting my anger and frustration turn into boiling down a very complex and multi-faceted issue down to a few paragraphs of text. springfield is worth fighting for, for the refugees and the city natives both.

[yarart4ever]

yall please be warned of @Tigresslover7 ...

because can we talk about this one yall.

so recently, I made a fanfiction on my ff.net account (idk why it doesn't show on the front feed but if you wanna find it it's here as well as on my account) called Scandalous. a semi-wholesome, semi-steamy TiPo fanfic for me to indulge in. which yk, it's normal. it's okay to self indulge.

but there is a fucking limit.

if yall don't know, Tigresslover is a small creator on tumblr (and apparently now on fanfiction) who's main theme is to... you guessed it... basically be in love with Tigress from kfp.

now on it's own, there's nothing wrong with that, and ofc I wouldn't be talking badly about a small account who just simply liked a fictional character, I'm a small account that fangirls over fictional characters all the time, it's chill, we all do that.

but not at the fucking expanse of other people.

like if you look at this person's account alone, obviously they praise the Tigress art when reblogging it, which is appreciated for other small artists in the kfp fandom.

but there are times where this person would just see a TiPo fanart, take it, crop out Po, leave a caption about how beautiful Tigress is and just post it on their own account. no credit. nothing.

they literally morph other people's art, even little prompts people make (my art and my prompts included) and morph it to fit their own little picture.

I decided not to say anything about it and just move on at first. there were times where Tigresslover would reblog a prompt I make with their own prompt, writing it word for word, and just cropping out Po. basically stealing my prompt.

which, again, I did not say anything about, despite my discomfort of them basically stealing my idea. but I didn't see it as anything worth being upset about as, yk, fair, my own prompts were inspired (keyword: INSPIRED.) by other mainstream sources. so I let it go without causing flames. instead, I settled my discomfort by simply blocking them just so they won't copy my work.

and you won't fucking believe what happened next.

if you think I am bluffing on the copying before hand, I understand that. but please, I beg you to read my work that I linked above, with THIS recent work that came on fanfiction.net not too long ago. in fact posted literal DAYS after I posted my work. just look at them side by side. and see for yourself the true evidence.

oh. my. fucking. god.

when I tell you I am not overexaggerating when they copied my one-shot almost word for word-

literally the only change they caused to this fic is- you guessed it- taking Po out of the picture and inserting THEIR character in it.

I can understand if they were simply inspired by my work, fanfiction is so expansive and limitless, but there are bound to be some similarities within some works, I'm obviously not the first person who thought of this scenario as in fact I took inspiration of the plot in my story from a few saucy animatics I saw on instagram, but there is a HUGE difference between being inspired by something and just blatantly copying and morphing someone else's hardwork to fit a personal view.

so anyways, I flamed them in the reviews, and bc fanfiction.net is lagging with updates and has always done so, I am going to wait until it updates well enough so that I can report them for stealing.

the reason I bring this to yall's attention (if you're still reading which if you are, thank you for sticking around) is bc I know for a fact that I'm not the first and only person they have copied, I believe I even recognised rewritten and stolen work from fellow TiPo prompt accounts, and ofc I have seen them take many iconic TiPo artists in this fandom, crop out a good portion of it just to fixate on Tigress, etc. the only problem is that I'm probably not going to be the last they steal from, which is not good at all.

you may think I'm blowing this out of proportion, but I see great value in literature and art. I love seeing the effort, time and care fanartists and fanfic writers being poured into their works, and when someone takes their work, copies it and morphes it without even bothering to give credit, it's them just showing they're diminishing that time, effort and care. and that's not okay.

do with this information what you will, if you wanna block, report for stealing, or just go about your day as it doesn't affect you, I understand your actions either way. but I am personally going to report them. bc no one deserves to have their work diminished and stolen for someone else's personal views.

[wikiangela]

fav lines game

rules: share your favourite lines or paragraph you've written from one of your fics, posted or wip.

tagged by @lover-of-mine @bidisasterevankinard @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @hippolotamus

so ofc suddenly I'm forgetting everything I've ever written lol but here's some of the most recent ones idk

from I wanna breathe you in

“Both.” Buck nods, so confident and sure in this. “I want- I want my family, my friends to know that I’m- that I’m bi.” he says, a smile splitting his face. He’s taken a minute to label himself, but when he found this one, it felt right. Bisexual. That’s what he is, that’s what feels like him, like Buck, like Evan. Like all the parts of himself that felt scattered and chaotic and weren’t making any sense are finally settled in the right place, glued together by this realization, by this one simple word – bisexual. The only person who knows so far is Maddie, and he wants to tell everyone else, wants them all to know, and wants to share how happy he is. Besides, he thinks she’s going to explode if she keeps it from Chimney any longer – and once Chim knows, well, even with the best intentions, he sucks at keeping secrets. He doesn’t want Tommy to be his secret. “And I want them to know you’re my boyfriend.” he adds confidently.

from I'm comin' back, don't let me go

He feels like every single action, just getting up, getting dressed, pouring a glass of water, getting something to eat, just anything takes much more effort than it should, than it used to. Living takes much more effort than it used to. Sometimes he thinks maybe it’d be better if he- He doesn’t want to die, not again, not really, but he can’t help thinking that he’d rather not be here. Not when he feels the way he feels. He doesn’t feel like himself, he’s just putting up a front, a Buck-shaped mask in front of people. He feels like a hollow, empty vessel. He just- he doesn’t want to be here.

from you can see it with the lights out (you are in love)

 It’s sweet and soft, and it makes Buck’s stomach flutter even more, but at the same time it feels like everything is finally as it should be, like relief, like coming home after a long trip, like taking a breath of fresh air after being in a smoke-filled burning building. It feels familiar, like home, like they’ve been doing this forever, like maybe they’ve been in love through multiple lifetimes, always finding their way to each other. It’s a ridiculous thought, a little bit, that he knows Eddie would fondly roll his eyes at and tell him there’s no such thing as past lives or fate. Buck believes what he believes, though. He feels like he’s loved Eddie for an eternity, and he’ll love him for another one, or a hundred, or a thousand eternities, as long as the world keeps turning, and if there’s anything after that, then even longer. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life.

also this from my most recent fic bc for some reason i just love this little moment haha - we don't know where this is going now (don't be afraid of heights, let me open your heart wide) 

“I know.” Evan chuckles, his gaze settling on Tommy’s. “I just- I really want to.” “Okay.” Tommy repeats, smiling, and waiting. It’s fine if Evan changes his mind, but this is his to initiate. Tommy will wait. He’d wait forever, is the thing, and it’s scary, with how short they know each other. “Okay.” Evan echoes, and then he’s grabbing Tommy’s chin, similar to how Tommy grabbed his during their first kiss. His thumb nestles into his cleft, and Tommy sees a flash of an endeared smile before Evan’s lips are on his, fingers not letting him go.

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck

@eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life

@diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway

@spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks

@alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @tommykinards

@honestlydarkprincess @underwaterninja13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33

@steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @tizniz @daffi-990

@fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck

[desswright29]

Hi, you asked for a Tish fantasy so here’s mine. I am not a writer and this is the first time I’ve written anything so my apologies for using your ask box because I’m not brave enough to post it on my own page. This is really informal. Just my thoughts really, but I’ll try to make it decent:

First person POV:

Tish and I have been dating for 3 years now. I’m having a milestone bday so Tish, my family and friends are throwing me a big ass party. They tried their best to surprise me, but I’m a Taurus so um yeah there’s that lol. It’s an all black affair but Tish and I pull up wearing all white cuz we feeling GAWDLY lol. I’m in custom Laquan Smith. Tish in custom Prada of course. We walk in and my jaw drops. This party is something I could’ve never imagined. Now mind you, after demanding I clear my schedule, Tish has been pampering me (and fucking me mercilessly) all week. All leading up to this party. Everybody that I love is in attendance. The decor is posh and expensive, but still keeping a party-like ambience. The DJ is playing all the hits and all my favorite party songs from when I was younger. Tish been catching this ass all night lol. Alcohol is flowing and we really going up. I’m giggling at Tish while they’re presenting me with my cake and singing happy bday bc she’s slightly tipsy and doesn’t realize how loud she’s singing into the DJ’s mic. As soon as I blow out my candles Tish passes the mic to my bestie who then turns my attention to a big ass projector screen that’s been let down. She gives a little sentimental speech then tells me that I must pay very close attention to the video and to not take my eyes off of the screen or I’ll miss a very important message. I’m tipsy too so I’m confused af, but I follow her instructions. The video is so sweet! It’s a collection of my baby pictures, school pictures,vacations, me w/ family and friends, pics of Tish and I, etc. All of a sudden the screen goes blank and a message appears that says “Your life has been a beautiful storybook and now it’s time to turn around and start the next chapter.” I’m so busy focusing on the video that I hadn’t noticed that Tish stepped away from my side. Still following instructions I turn around and all I see is my stunningly beautiful girlfriend getting on one knee with a small Cartier ring box in her hands. I can’t believe how quickly I just sobered up. I’m shell shocked so my mind is trying to catch up with what my eyes are seeing before me. Someone passes the mic back to Tish and she begins to speak in a bit of a shaky voice. “Baby, for a long time I didn’t think genuine love would ever be possible for me. I didn’t think there was anyone out there who could truly understand me…understand the way my mind works…my quirkiness…my ambition…my lust for life…and the way I love. Just when I had settled on being the fun, SEXY and single friend” *everyone giggles* “God sent me you. God took a lil extra time on you innit!” *crowd giggles again* “It’s truly been a privilege to love you and I wanna be everything to you, that you are to me and so much more…and I wanna do it for the rest of our lives. “Y/N, will you marry me?” Remnants of my mascara mixed with my tears are flowing like a river down my face. My mind is still registering so it takes me a few seconds to respond with the emotion filled “yes” that I’m able to muster up. Tish slides the ring on my finger so fast then jumps up and scoops me up with strength I didn’t know she possessed while everyone is cheering and clapping. We kiss each other in way that could invoke world peace. Finally coming to my full senses, I softly whisper in her ear “I can’t wait to run this shit with you.”

*Edit Note: Let me take my motherfucking hat off to you writers!! How do y’all do this shit on a regular basis??? Now that shit I just wrote was so basic and it stressed me OUT. You guys are so talented and so creative and I have a whole new respect. Thank you for sharing your talents on here. Love you guys!

This is awesome! You should def give us more! As a matter of fact anyone who wants to write but is nervous about it, feel free to use my ask to give it a shot!