“Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” Bucky asked.
“Yes,” you sighed, not even bothering to look up from your book. You stretched your legs out even more, taking up almost half of Tony’s expensive leather couch. Nestling back into the pillow you had placed against the armrest, you continued your afternoon reading.
Bucky stared at you from the other end of the couch and hummed thoughtfully. He slowly scooted another inch closer to you. You felt the couch shift with his movements but chose to ignore him.
Bucky slowly moved again, his muscular thighs grazing the tips of your toes. A small smile threatened the corners of your lips, but you held strong. You started back up at the top of the page when you realized you hadn’t comprehended a single word.
Bucky pushed your legs apart and crawled up the front of your body until his head was resting underneath your book. He tucked both arms under his chin and looked up at you expectantly. It was quite comical really, and he almost reminded you of a cat. A much heavier cat with a metal arm, but a cat nonetheless.
You lifted your book up and quirked your eyebrows at him. Ice blue eyes stared back up at you with a faux-innocence.
“Can I help you?” you asked, amusement lacing your voice.
“What if I just break his nose a little?” Bucky replied, hopefully.
“Bucky!” you yelled exasperatedly. “It was just a cookie!” You bopped him on the head with your book for emphasis.
“But it was MY cookie, doll!” he groaned, shoving his face against your chest. “Do you have any idea how much I wanted that cookie?” You giggled as his deep voice vibrated against you.
“Aww, my poor baby,” you cooed.
Bucky glared up at you. “This isn’t funny,” he mumbled, looking dejected. “He does this crap on purpose, you know.”
You rolled your eyes and tossed your book on the floor. Grabbing his ear, you dragged all 200 pounds of muscle out of the living room.
“Ow, doll, what are you-” Bucky complained as you pulled him along. “Hey! Ease up a bit, would ya?”
You ignored his pleas and refused to show him mercy until you reached the kitchen. Sam and Steve sat at the island, laughing over some story you had zero interest in.
“Hey, Y/N!” Sam exclaimed. His gaze wandered to a hunched over Bucky. “What’s up?”
“Sam,” you said calmly as you continued to hold Bucky’s ear, “can you PLEASE refrain from eating Bucky’s cookies from now on? It’s seriously interfering with my reading time.”
Sam paused briefly before busting out in laughter. “That’s real cute, Y/N,” he guffawed, clutching his stomach.
Steve knew better and kept his mouth shut. You clenched your jaw and finally released Bucky’s ear. You stalked over to Sam and he nearly fell off his stool as you stood so close that you could see every pore on his face.
“Sam,” you growled, “stay away from Bucky’s food or I will personally bury your dead body in the backyard where not even the heat sensors Tony installed can find you. Clear?”
“Crystal,” Sam gulped.
Your dark expression faded and you smiled brightly. “Good!” you exclaimed. “Now, if we’re all done acting like children, I’m going to go back to my book.” You sauntered out of the kitchen back towards the living room.
“Man, I can’t believe you ratted me out to your girlfriend,” Sam muttered as soon as you were out of earshot. He glared daggers at Bucky, and Steve held back a snort.
“Don’t touch my stuff, Bird Man, and we won’t have a problem,” Bucky replied, rubbing his still-sore ear. He strolled over to the freezer and took out the last ice cream sandwich. He unwrapped the paper and took a huge, satisfying bite.
“Hey!” Sam yelled. “That was mine!”
Bucky just smirked as he backed away, taking another bite.
Gingerbread poppets are a great yuletide twist on homemade spell poppets.
This spell is best directed at clearing your head of people who have wronged or mistreated you. It is a great way to bring in the new year fresh from negativity of others and effectively removing the conflict of those people from your life.
Following your favorite gingerbread recipe, you will focus on removing the power negative people have in your life. Because of the ingredients of gingerbread it is perfect for this spell.
Cloves are great for gossip protection and spell breaking
Cinnamon is effective in promoting healing and peace
Before putting the cookies in the oven, make a sigil or other representation of an individual who has wronged you this year who you need to break free from.
Once they are done baking, you will eat the gingerbread poppet(s).
When you eat these poppets, consider the power this person had over you and now your power of this representation of them. Visualize the power of their words and their influence over you dissipating as you eat the cookie. You are now in control.
Best eaten alone in quiet with a cup of tea or in the company of close friends.
A/N: So, for
those who didn’t see my update, I totally broke my computer and lost
everything, so I need to re-type all of my fics… FML, right? I’m
gunna use my mom’s computer, but it’s a piece of shit! Thank you for
being patient with me! I wrote this short, little fic to hold you over until I
can retype everything! Xoxo!
Anyways, I was on YouTube, watching “Momma has a breakdown!
Unseen Moments!” from KKandBabyJ’s family vlog (Karen and Khoa with their
babies: Jackson and Landon) and Karen was crying from pregnancy hormones and
that clip in the video gave me this idea!
Shitty Summary: Reader
is 35 weeks pregnant. There are tears. Lots of tears.
“Seriously, child? Again?” You muttered at your belly, making
your way to the bathroom.
This was your fourth trip to the bathroom since you had
gotten back from the grocery store, a few hours prior.
The baby that was nestled within your belly was supposedly
the size of a Honeydew Melon, but it felt like someone had put a fucking
bowling ball in your uterus and was trying to crush your bladder. Damn you, Steve Rogers, for your Michael
Phelps swimmers. You had to pee all
the time! Your boobs hurt, you had stretchmarks starting to form on your
body, you couldn’t see your feet anymore, and when you sneezed, you’d pee. When
you laughed, you’d pee. When you’d cough… You’d
Where the fuck is this
beautiful glow people fucking rave about?
You and Steve had just gotten married when you had found out
that you were pregnant. You hadn’t realized, because you had been on birth control,
but you kept getting morning sickness and were tired all the time. So, you went to your doctor, who confirmed you were
pregnant. (That was when you remembered that you had missed your appointment
for a birth control shot by a week, due to a mission.) You were so excited that
you ran to the store, bought a Captain America baby onesie, and gave it to him
as a gift.
He burst into tears when he understood what it meant.
He was so excited that he called a team meeting and blabbed
to everyone. He couldn’t contain his excitement,
and almost announced it without you in the room.
Now, at 35 weeks, you were miserable.
Still excited, but miserable.
Your pregnancy hormones were insane. You cried all the time. What didn’t help, was you
also had effects from the super soldier serum that was running through your
child’s veins. You were constantly breaking things. What sucked was that was
the only effect. You were still clumsy, emotional, tired, and the baby broke
one of your ribs from kicking. The only thing you got from the serum was the
ability to break shit.
“Y/n, honey, the team is back!” Steve called from the other
room. “The guys and I are going to watch the game in the living room!”
You washed your hands and waddled back into the communal
kitchen to grab your bottled water. You leaned your hands against the counter
as the baby shifted around in your belly. “Jesus, kid, get any bigger and you’ll
be exploding out of me.” You grunted, taking in a sharp, painful breath as the
baby’s foot grazed your rib. “Ow! Fuck.” You continued to take deep breaths, leaning
forward to press your forehead against the counter.
“You okay, Y/n?” Natasha asked from the doorway to the
kitchen – running to you once she saw you hunched over, rubbing a soothing hand
up and down your spine.
“I’m fine.” You sighed, standing back up, “The baby just
kicked me in the ribs.”
She chuckled, moving her hand so it rested on your swollen
belly, “You hurry up and grow, so you can stop giving Auntie Nat a heart
attack.” She looked up at you, “Want to go watch the guys fight over the game?”
“Yeah, sure, let me just bring the cookies I made earlier.”
You smiled, waddling into the pantry, “The baby wants cookies. Not sure where he
gets it from.” You joked, full knowing that the sugar loving came from Steve.
You were more of a salt lover.
gasped in astonishment, “I thought you wanted to keep it a surprise?”
“I did.” You said, sheepishly taking a bite of a cookie and
setting the plate on the counter, “But I couldn’t wait. So, now it is a
surprise to everybody but you, me, and my doctor.” You smiled down at your son
nestled in your belly, “I can’t wait to see Steve’s reaction when the baby is
She chuckled, walking over and wrapping you in her small,
muscular arms, “So much for naming your child after me. Nathaniel is already
You shook your head with a laugh, “Clint already named his
kid after you. You’re getting greedy.”
Picking the plate back up, you guys made your way through
the kitchen – you much slower than Nat – and into the living area where the men
were crowded onto the couches, already yelling over the game. You were mid-bite
when, suddenly, something slammed into your leg. Fucking coffee table! Letting out a yelp, you squeezed the plate
and it shattered in your hand. The pieces went crashing to the floor and
Natasha’s arms were steadying you, since your balance was off.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Steve jumped off the couch,
running over as the group of men paused the game and stood up in a panic.
“My cookies!” You shrieked,
tears pricking at your eyes. Oh, god. Don’t
cry. Don’t cry.
Natasha let out a breathy laugh of relief, letting go to pick up the
shattered pieces of the plate.
You burst into tears.
“I’m sorry!” You cried, covering your face with your hands
as the sobs started getting borderline hysterical. “I made those cookies for
you guys, too!”
Steve wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards the
kitchen, “Don’t worry about the cookies, Doll. We can make more.” He walked you
both over to the chairs in the kitchen and sat down in one, pulling you onto
his lap, “Shh. It’s alright.”
You threw your arms around his waist and hid your face in
his sweater as the hormonal sobs started to get worse. You couldn’t stop
crying. You didn’t even know why you were crying so hard, but you felt like
there were still so many things to cry about.
It was confusing.
Which made you
“Hey,” He murmured, wrapping his arms around you tighter and
planting a kiss on your temple, “Why are you crying like this?” You tried to
answer, but your voice was muffled by his sweater. “I didn’t hear a word of
what you just said, doll.”
You turned your face a little so your messy, red face was
slightly visible, “There are so many things, Steve!” You wailed, feeling a
headache coming on, “I broke the plate, the c-coffee table is in a bad spot, I
dropped t-the cookies, I can’t see my feet, it was raining t-today, and I can’t
find my favorite pajama pants… I- I- I just-” You turned your face back into
his sweater as the sobs got louder and more hysterical.
“That’s why you’re
crying?” He chuckled, running his hand soothingly up and down your back.
“It’s not funny!” You whined against his chest, trying to
wipe the steady stream of tears leaking from your eyes with your hand, “These
are real issues, Steve!”
He closed his mouth, opting to press a kiss against the top
of your head, instead. Then, he moved his mouth close to your ear, “I’m sorry
for laughing, doll.”
“You should be.” You pouted, shifting so that your ear was
against his chest to hear his heartbeat. You sniffed, wiping under your nose
with your sleeve as your sobs turned to hiccups.
“I love you.” He brushed your hair away from your face,
placing another kiss on your forehead.
Stop being cute, you
“I love you, too.” You sniffled, closing your eyes as the
tears finally stopped, “Even if you turned me into an incubator who can’t see
her own feet and cries a lot.”
He laughed, and suddenly there was a scrape of a chair being
pulled up next to you.
It was Bucky. “I brought you my secret stash of cookies.” He
whispered, handing you a package of Girl Scout cookies. “Don’t tell Sam.”
You felt tears prick at your eyes, again. “Oh my gosh, Girl
Scout cookies!” The crying started in, once again. Fucking hormones.
“Come on, man, I just got her to stop crying!” Steve
complained, rolling his head back in exasperation.
You slapped him on the shoulder, “These are happy tears, you
jerk!” You turned to Bucky, grabbing his hand – the vibranium one – and smiling,
“Thank you, Bucky.”
“Does this mean you are naming your kid after me?” He asked
with a wink, squeezing your hand gently in comfort.
“Hey!” You hear Nat shout from the living area, “They are
naming their kid after me!”
“You already have a kid named after you!” He shouted back, getting
up and walking into the room to argue with her.
“We aren’t naming him after Bucky, either.” You rolled your
“Wait!” Steve gasped, leaning back to look at you in shock, “Him?”
“Shit!” You yelled, covering your face with your hands in
shame, “I was going to keep it a surprise!” Cue
the tears. God DAMMIT, Y/n! Stop it!
His look of astonishment turned into glee, “I’m having a
son!” His blue eyes were a little misty, and his thousand dollar smile was filled with happiness.
“Yes, you’re having a son.” You said with watery eyes, and a
wobbly smile after seeing the look of pure joy on his face. “I was thinking of
naming him Grant.” You wiped your hot face with your sleeve, finally getting
the stupid crying under control, “He could be named after his dad. Grant
“Hey!” You hear Bucky and Natasha shout from the living
You let out a laugh, and Steve pressed his lips against
yours in a long – but chaste – kiss, moving a hand down to where your son was
resting in your swollen belly. “I love it. I love you.”
“I love you.” You replied, laying your head back down on his
chest while he caressed your belly. “And you, little Grant Rogers.”
“What about Grant Nathaniel Rogers?” Natasha yelled, a laugh
in her voice.
Tags: (I do permanent tags, if you want to join the party! *wink*)
This time, it’s “just a minor detail” in the anime - version of the Campania- arc that gave me a headache. You see, the challenge was that I already got a headcanon about when and how UT opened the coffins ofthe BDs way before the Book of Atlantic- release.
Then the shock:
Undertaker has been turned into an eye- witness of Aurora’s “public” presentation! Perfect!
But the more I thought about it, the more I got convinced that some suspense was lost. The time of UT’s appearance simply did not feel right to me. His cover is as good as blown. The relationship to Ryan Stoker/ Aurora Society is pretty clear; his true shinigami nature easy to guess.
Not so in the manga.
Undertaker’s encounter with Ciel and Sebastian is so random that the reader’s first reaction might equal Ciel’s: “UNDERTAKER!? What are you doing here?”
Since I haven’t watched the movie yet, I’m not sure whether the scene was cut/ replaced - I guess, it wasn’t - but I dare to say, I like the original one from the manga better. It’s so funny that it can be distracting. What is that device!?
Another - and more important- reason, I prefer the latter is that it gives Undertaker (more than) enough time (between the presentation and Druitt’stheft) to go by teleportation and open the coffins with his death scythe (headcanon).
Personally, I don’t see why I should change that headcanon.
Headcanon (of UT being present during the presentation) denied.
You knew it the second you entered the
apartment and laid your eyes on him. His facial expression was calm and his
muscles were relaxed, but it was all forced. He was putting up a show and,
after a few months of dating and living together, you saw right through him.
His hands, usually so precise and firm, shook the slightest bit. His eyes
darted to random spaces, though he tried to keep them on you. Bucky usually had
no problem lying, except when it was to you. Or Steve.
your eyes at him, his face stretched in a dazzling smile upon seeing you.
“You look guilty. What did you do?”
Bucky scoffed. “What? You just got here, I
didn’t do anything.”
You raised an eyebrow, “You lied like that as the Winter Soldier? Because seriously,
that’s just sad.”
He pondered for a few seconds. “I didn’t talk
“Ha! So you admit you’re lying!”
“James Buchanan Barnes, I know that look.”
He sighed and looked down. “I ate the cookies,”
“You ate the cookies?”
“I ate the cookies.”
You already expected that, which was the
reason you made three recipes: two for Bucky and one for Nat’s birthday.
You visibly relaxed. “It’s okay, Buck,” you said
as you made your way to the kitchen’s far left cabinet, Bucky hot on your heels.
“I made more.” Except he ate those too. There even wasn’t bran in the plate. There
was no plate.
“I ate all
the cookies, doll,” Bucky murmured when your mouth fell agape.
“I noticed that, Buck.”
“I’m so sorry, [Y/n].”
“They were for Nat’s birthday,” you said
quietly, still awestruck. He managed to eat
A glance at his pained, guilty expression made
you feel bad for him.
You reached out to hug him. “It’s okay, Buck.
Really,” you repeated.
“If it helps in anything, they were delicious,”
he said against your hair, his arms around you.
“Thanks. But you’re helping me cook more.”
He saluted you, a smirk on his lips. “Yes, ma’am!”