such a good writer too

anonymous asked:

Congratulations to the most awesome assertive and helpful writer/vlogger out there for reaching 100000 subscribers! Hope you will have waaay more in the future because you deserve them. What would we, new writers do without you?

Originally posted by nyxisis

You guys are too good to me <3

I like to think maybe Robbie has some strength to his frame from messing around with so many metal parts and dragging around giant canons and everything else he does that in a moment of emergency he just picks up Sportakook (bridal or over his shoulder, either way) and runs for dear life instead of Sportanerd grabbing him and everyone is confused and Sportacute is flustered because no one has carried him since he was a young babe and Robbie is confused as of why Sportaflop is so red and– yea… but

We need more Stronger-than-we-thought-he-was Robbie Rotten

My hair is wet, hanging with natural waves and dripping water.
My feet skim the surface of the lake and create a small ripple that fans into the green, eventually disappearing into the murk and beneath the dock.
I tap my fingers over the wood of the dock where I am sitting in a barely audible pattern.
My lips part into a blissful smile at the sight of the sun coming over the trees and reflecting against the cool depths of the lake.
The breeze caresses my body and reminds me of what it feels like to be hugged by someone who loves you, genuinely.
Blue overtakes the sky as clouds are driven away by sunlight and wind.
I feel relaxed. At home. Free.

i think the reason for dany’s “blank” reaction to viserion dying was because she never really thought any harm would come to them. like why would she? she’s seen drogon get hurt like twice already and he is fine. she had no reason to believe the white walkers had anything to harm her dragons. her looking there “emotionless” is just her being in shock that one of her “invincible” dragons died. it’s a huge shock for her, of course she froze up.

Watchful Shadow

Writer - @damndescendants

Requested - @too-good-to-be-tru 

Hi! Can you do a Harry Hook x daughter of Peter Pan?

Disclaimer - I do not own any of Descendants’ characters and/or ideas all credit goes to the creator and producers of Disney Descendants

Pairing - Harry Hook x Reader

Summary – (Y/N), daughter of Peter Pan goes to the Isle with Mal only to run into an old friend

Warning(s) - none

Originally posted by butterflywingednight

Keep reading

The Reader and the Writer (Part 2)

Originally posted by stydiaislove

Part one here

Anon requests: can you please do a part two of “The reader and the writer”? i’m shook, lost and now stressed over who she really is

The Reader and the Writer is amazingggg! Are u gonna do a part 2?? I wanna read more!!

could you do a part 2 of the reader and the writer, i’m obsessed!!!

Is there going to be a part 2 for The Reader and the Writer? Can there be a part 2? I loved it by the way :)

PART TWO OF THE READER AND THE WRITER PLEASE OMFG

Omigod, I love your Reader and Writer imagine soooooo much, are you going to write a part two??

OK PLEASE WRITE A PART TWO TO THE READER AND THE WRITER IS WAS SO GOOD!

Wtf?!? The reader and the writer is honestly amazing! I love it 😍 2pt maybe? I wanna know what happens with the reader and Jason

I love love love the reader and the writer, if you aren’t too busy could you please update it with a second part soon? I can’t bear to be left for days without knowing what Jughead found 😂 thanks x

Will there be a part 2 of “the reader and the writer”? Its really good! I hope you will write more of it!

I love this new jughead imagine ! Are you writing a part 2 ?

OH MY GOD PART 2 ASAP

I really love your writing! I’m very excited about part 2 for the Reader and the writer

part 2 of “The Reader and the Writer” ?? it’s greattt 😭

please do a part 2 of the reader and the writer!@@@ I need more!

Can you please do part two or the reader and writer?!?! It is so good!!

The reader and the writer was amazing and i got too attached. Part 2 please if you don’t mind.

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: A confrontation ensues between the reader and the writer

Warnings: none

Word count: 887

A/N: I’m glad you guys liked the first part so much! Enjoy part 2!


(Y/N) didn’t return to Pop’s.  Every night, Jughead sat in his normal booth typing on his computer, but his eyes constantly flicked up towards the entrance.  His friends noticed his shift in attitude.

“Jug,” Archie sat across from him, “you gotta snap out of this.”

“Out of what?” Jughead asked monotonously, rolling his eyes.  “I’m fine, Archie.”

“I know you like to sit here and brood all mysteriously,” Veronica interjected, “but this is sad. Just call (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” he scoffed.  “This isn’t about (Y/N).”  When the entire table sent him disbelieving looks, he sighed and looked out the window.  “I already called her.”

“How many times?” Kevin asked with a smirk.  Jughead sighed again, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

“Every night.” Archie, Betty, Veronica, and Kevin all shared a knowing glance.  “I know what you guys are thinking and no, it’s not like that.  I’m not some pathetically smitten person, okay?”

“Okay, Jughead,” Betty said, but rolled her eyes.  “If you insist.”


To say (Y/N) felt guilty would be an understatement.  From the moment she stomped out of that diner, regret gnawed at her inside out. Without the consistency of her nightly stops in Pop’s, she didn’t know what to do with herself.  She spent every night after school in her room sulking. Every night, her phone rang, lighting up with Jughead’s name.  She was tempted to answer it every night, her finger hovering over the answer button, but then she turned away and ignored his call.  (Y/N) missed Pop’s: she missed the delicious foods, the quiet yet comforting atmosphere, and the person who sat across from her in their usual booth.  


One day, Jughead sat with an uneaten burger in front of him, laptop closed.  Today had been an especially slow day, both in Jughead’s mind and Pop’s.  Suddenly, a jingle of the bell signaled that someone new entered the diner.  Jughead sat up a bit to see who it was.  When he identified the new customer, he perked up immediately.  Grabbing a book, he shot up and walked over to the table where she had just sat down.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he said, slamming down the book in front of her, “is an author from the 18th century.  She wrote four novels, all of them published under an alias at first.  It was not until two hundred years later that the true author was discovered.  She has been dead for over two hundred years, and she is most certainly not you.”  (Y/N) looked up at him with wide eyes.

“What, I can’t have the same name as someone else?” she fired back, but there was a waver in her voice. Jughead glared as he sat down across from her.

“You see, I would think that, too,” Jughead responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “but I searched for you online, and I couldn’t find anything on you.  Not one thing.”

“I like to keep my life private.  I don’t publish stuff about me online.”

“Yeah, but there’s something about everyone on the world wide web if you look hard enough,” Jughead explained, his voice accusingly sharp.  “Now I have two theories: one, you’re a very experienced hacker, and you’ve gone and wiped all information regarding you off the internet; or two, you’re hiding something, and you’re using a dead unpopular author’s name to keep your real identity a secret.  Personally, I’m choosing the latter, considering how well-read you are.”  (Y/N) stared at Jughead with sad, wide eyes.  “When were you going to tell me?”

“I wasn’t,” she whispered. Jughead clenched his jaw and shook his head.  

“Whatever,” he mumbled, standing up.  He began to walk away when (Y/N) shot up from her seat.

“I was born in Riverdale,” she called out to him.  Jughead stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around.

“What?”

“I was born in Riverdale,” she repeated slower.  Jughead neared the table and sat down across from (Y/N).

“So what?”

“So I-,” she started, “I can’t- I can’t just tell you everything.”  Jughead rolled his eyes and began to push his chair out when (Y/N) placed her hand on his, her eyes silently begging him to stay.  “If you care, you’ll trust me.”

“What makes you think I care?” Jughead demanded, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t move his hands out from under hers.

“Because you called?” she offered, causing Jughead to sit up a little straighter.  “You called me every night, Jug.”

“I was worried,” he muttered, looking away.  (Y/N) smiled, patted his hand, and stood up.

“Keep writing, Jughead. See you around.”  Spinning on her heel, (Y/N) grabbed her copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray and exited the diner.  Jughead’s eyes followed her figure out until the door closed behind her.  Then he pulled out his laptop and started to furiously type.

And so, a little light shined on the dark mystery of Riverdale’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N) like the calm before the storm.  The writer becomes the reader, the reader becomes the read.  I found myself hooked on her just from a little information, like a drug addict craving his fix.  New girls can never hide in a small town like Riverdale, but God, I knew (Y/N), in all her enigmatic splendor, would lurk in the shadows of this town for as long as she possibly could.”

Part 3 here   Part 4 here

Power Down

Often, when traveling alone, Michael would move through handheld devices to save time and gas money.

After the particular incident regarding entering a computer playing hardcore porn, he preferred to move through phones.

He had left his headphones at Jeremy’s an hour earlier and only noticed now.

It was half past one, but Jeremy had drunk a cup of coffee that morning and even a small amount of caffeine could keep him going for over fifteen hours, so the odds were in Michael’s favor that he would still be awake.

Michael clicked his phone on and the device dropped to the bed as the boy vanished with a fading crackle of electricity.

___

Jeremy’s mouth stretched open in a wide yawn, exposing all his teeth, wondering why he felt so out of it though he had done little more that evening than eat snacks and play monopoly.

He had lost his phone charger in the cluttered wreck of his room and was going to need to use his phone tomorrow, so he made the decision to power it down so it wouldnt use up battery life as he slept.

As he pressed the option to completely cut off, and watched the screen go dark.

He could have sworn the phone jerked in his hand the moment it clicked off.

Jeremy shrugged and let the phone clatter to the bedside table under the lamp, which was quickly turned off.

_____



Michael was so fucked.

The terror of the digital world going dark around him made his hands shake.

He moved to one of the now dark walls, and pressed his body weight against it, hoping to find some give in the darkness.

Now knowing that the shadows were not going to give him up that easily, he began to panic slightly, still holding that small light of hope.

He threw himself  against the wall, yelling for help though he was sure that Jeremy couldn’t hear him.

He continued to attempt his escape until a strange feeling raced through the veins, as if someone had broken into Michael’s hospital room and poured pop rocks into his IV bag as some sort of strange prank.

He looked down, gasping in horror at the sight.

He was disappearing.

Dissolving like kool-aid dust in a bottle of water.

And it was spreading.

Up his arms and legs, nearly reaching his knees and elbows.

He slammed himself back into the wall that seemed to have no give, the panic in his chest toying with him like a rat in a cage, attempting the impossible.

Attempting to survive.

With his dwindling strength and ability to stand, he prayed that the blood pact they had taken in fifth grade would be enough to get Jeremy to figure out where he was and safe him.

He felt the unconsciousness begin to rise up, choking him, and began whispering every prayer he knew under his breath.

“Uh… hail mary full of grace, pray to God my soul to keep? Will that work-”

His mumbles were cut off by a sudden weakness that left him shaking and unable to speak

A sudden flood of light overtook his vision and he wondered whether he was saved or it was the gates of heaven.

_____



Jeremy was at his wits end.

His blood was practically boiling with some sort of weird anxiety that, no matter how hard he tried, couldn’t find the root of.

He had no real reason to feel so tightly strung, but he knew he would never fall asleep.

He sighed, resigned to his fate of a sleepless night and reached for his phone.

He picked it up and held down the power button for a moment, waiting for the screen to light up.

The moment it did lead to complete chaos.

Suddenly the room was filled with screams and the very is distinct smell of wet blood.

Michael  was lying on Jeremy’s carpet, arms and legs seemingly falling apart into 8-bit pixels, dripping blood now that he was back in the physical world.

Jeremy dropped to his knees next to his injured friend.

“Holy shit! Oh my god! Uh- can you talk? Can you hear me?”

Michael  moaned in pain, tears coming to his eyes.

“O-okay you’re conscious so that’s good. Should I staunch the bleeding? Oh jesus.”

Michael grabbed onto Jeremy pajama shirt and attempted to pull himself to a sitting position, but Jeremy gently pushed him back down.

“No, no, no. Stay down until the pixelating stops. Then I’m calling an ambulance.”

Michael  let out a high pitched  whine and allowed himself to be pressed into the ground again.

Jeremy shoved a throw pillow shaped like a bear under Michael’s head so that he wouldn’t come by any damage to the neck, just in case.

He got out a towel and wrapped it around the places where the blood seemed most thick, but found that there was no wound.

I guess the blood was just from the flesh moving in a way that no human should have to experience.

They sat, Jeremy  clutching Michael’s still bloody and uneven hand until the odd and terrifying dissolving had ended.





___




The next morning Jeremy was wandering around the hospital, which, while there were no physical wounds, Jeremy still insisted upon, because honestly, if your best friend crashes into your bedroom a bloody mess, you’re going to make them go to a hospital whether they want to or not.

He bought a phone charger in the hospital gift shop.

((hello!! Its me!! sorry if there are any mistakes!! I wrote this while I pretended to study so it was rushed !! love your blog <3))

- OH MY GOD?????? OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GEEZ I ALMOST STARTED CRYING THIS IS AMAZING OH MY GOD!!!!! IM ON TUMBLR MOBILE SO I HOPE THIS DOESNT MESS UP THE FORMAT BUT OH MY G O D GUYS THIS IS SO GOOD OH MY GOFIEIEJFBDJ
The Reader and the Writer (Part 3)

Originally posted by juptern

Part one here    Part two here

Anon requests: Will you please do part 3 of the reader and the writer

You’re writing is so amazing, it’s what keeps me alive 😂😍 so thank you for doing such an amazing job and I hope you’re having an amazing day 💜 And I was wondering if you consider writing a part 3 of The Reader and The Writer someday? Because I’d love to read more of it 🙈

Please please PLEASE do a Part 3 to the reader and the writer? It’s amazing x

Omg! Part 3 please gor he reader and the writer 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PART THREE OF THE READER AND THE WRITER PLEASE

PART 3 OF READER AND THE WRITER

Part 3 of Reader and Writer?? Cause you are too good to us??? Like thank you??? 💞I swoon for your writing 💞

I NEED PART THREE OF THE READER AND THE WRITER ASAAAPPPP

The Reader and the Writer (part 2) was amazing and so are all ouf your writings ! I can’t wait for a part 3 !

Will you do a part 3 of the reader and the writer??

I know you just posted but WOW I NEED A PART THREE OF THE READER AND THE WRITER GIRL YOU TOO GOOD!!!

OMFG PLEASE PART 3 OF THE READER AND THE WRITER AAAAHHH I’M SO GLAD I REQUESTED IT YAAASSS YOUR WRITING IS PERFECT AND AMAZING I LOVE YOU <3

I!!! AM!!! SHOOK!!!! I NEED PART 3 OF READER AND THE WRITER WOWOWOWOW ITS AMAZING

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: The reader returns, and she offers the writer some explanations that he’s been waiting for

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,041

A/N: It’s here! I am so so so sorry for making you guys wait this long, I had so much going on this week and I had barely any time to write at all. I hope this makes up for it, enjoy!


Jughead didn’t expect for (Y/N) to return to Pop’s; in fact, he thought she’d leave town.  However, the following night he was proven wrong when she walked in and sat across him in their usual booth.

“You’re here,” he stated. (Y/N) quirked an eyebrow.

“You expected otherwise?” she inquired, crossing her arms.

“Well, to be fair, I hadn’t seen you in about a month before yesterday,” Jughead defended himself.  (Y/N) sucked in a breath and went to contradict him, but she realized he was right, so she shut her mouth.  They sat in silence, both of them avoiding eye contact with each other.  Finally, (Y/N) sighed and broke the quiet.

“So I’m guessing you want to talk about it,” she said, not even bothering to pull out a book.  Jughead nodded as he closed his laptop.

“I think I deserve a bit more information than the fact that you were born in Riverdale,” he grumbled.

“You do,” she agreed.

“So why did you think that was important to tell me?” Jughead began the interrogation. “Out of all the things to say to stop me from leaving, why that?”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?” (Y/N) attempted to joke, but Jughead didn’t even crack a smile.  She sighed and continued.  "I don’t know, because that’s the beginning. I’m a reader, Jug, I like to start at the beginning of a story.“

"And so your beginning started here.”

“Yes.”

“But then you moved somewhere else?” Jughead asked.  (Y/N) nodded.  "Why?“

"Because we had to,” she responded.  "My parents were… unpleasant people, to say the least.  Bad people tend to mingle, and thus my parents met the Blossoms.“  Jughead’s head perked up at the mention of the family.

"The Blossoms?” he echoed.  "As in Jason Blossom?“

"No, the other notorious Blossom family in Riverdale,” she rolled her eyes, sarcasm oozing from every word.  "Yes, Jason Blossom’s family.“  Jughead’s silence signaled for her to continue.  “My family and their family had this long-lasting feud for as long as I can remember.”

“So is that why you left?” he asked.  “Because of the feud?”

“Yes,” she answered tentatively, “and no.  It’s complicated.  You see, I didn’t leave Riverdale with my parents.”  (Y/N) paused for a moment, biting her lip.  “My parents were murdered.”  Jughead’s eyes widened as he realized the severity of her situation.

“The Blossoms did it?” he immediately assumed.  (Y/N) shook her head.

“Not that we know of,” she replied.  “They never figured out who did it.  Yes, the Blossoms were high on the suspect list, but personally, I don’t think it was them.  They’re too snobbish to actually murder someone.”  The pair fell into a silence, Jughead attempting to soak up all the information he was just given.  (Y/N) lazily glanced around the dinner, scanning the strangers’ faces.

“Why’d you come back?” Jughead spoke up.  (Y/N)’s eyes flicked back to his face.

“They were about to sell our old home,” she shrugged.  “My aunt was infuriated, so she packed up all our things and moved here.” Jughead had so many more questions swirling around his mind, but when he observed (Y/N)’s face, he saw how tired and deflated she looked.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “this is too much for you.  I shouldn’t have pressured you to tell me everything at once.”

“No, it’s fine,” she insisted, shaking her head.  “I want to tell you, I… you deserve to know.”  Jughead reached across the table, grabbed (Y/N)’s hand, and gazed at her in a manner she couldn’t quite distinguish.  He didn’t say anything, and neither did she.  They just sat there in the booth, on a quiet day in Pop’s, Jughead holding (Y/N)’s hand and she was letting him.  Without speaking, she understood what he was trying to tell her: there was nothing left to say.


For the next two weeks, neither Jughead nor (Y/N) said anything to each other.  They still went to Pop’s every night, and they sat together at the same booth.  But (Y/N) always had a book, and Jughead always had his laptop.  Frequently, when one of them wasn’t looking, the other would glance up and stare for just a moment.

On a slow Tuesday, Veronica entered Pop’s.  She was only there to pick up the food she and her mom had ordered, but she noticed (Y/N) and Jughead sitting together at a booth, and so she sped over there.

“You’re back,” she noted, sitting down next to (Y/N).  She glanced up, putting Frankenstein down, and shot Veronica a timid smile.

“I’ve been back for a few weeks,” she responded.  Veronica furrowed her eyebrows.

“Really?” she questioned, shifting her gaze to Jughead.  He didn’t look up from his computer.  (Y/N) awkwardly nodded, turning back to her novel.  Veronica glanced back and forth between (Y/N) and Jughead, waiting for one of them to say something.  “Do you guys ever talk?”

“It’s not always necessary,” Jughead replied, rolling his eyes.

“Well yeah,” Veronica shrugged, “but you guys are dead silent.  Neither of you have spoken to each other since I got here.”  When neither of them replied to her comment, Veronica understood that she was unwanted and left.

The two sat in silence for another hour before Jughead interrupted it by slamming his laptop shut.

“Okay, I’ve spent two weeks thinking about what to say,” he started, catching (Y/N)’s attention.  She lifted her eyes from her book and stared at Jughead, puzzled.  “But I don’t know.  I don’t know what to say!  How do I respond to the fact that your parents were murdered?”

“You don’t have to sa-”

“Yes I do!” Jughead interjected.  “Because we’re… friends, we’re friends.  And I’m supposed to say something to make you feel better.”  (Y/N) tilted her head sideways as she gazed at Jughead, trying to think of a reply.

“You still have a question,” she finally said, “don’t you?  And you didn’t want to say anything else because you didn’t want to tempt your own curiosity.”

“No,” Jughead shook his head, “no, I-”

“Just ask,” (Y/N) stopped him.  “Just ask me, Jug.”  He inhaled sharply, and examined her face.  There was no doubt, no hesitation; just determination with a hint of anger. Jughead sighed, giving into (Y/N)’s, and his own curiosity’s, demands.

“What’s your real name?”

Part four here

Writer’s hut in East Anglia, UK

Submitted by Fraser Grace

My writing hut was built over two summers using repurposed windows and doors and a frame of recycled timber. Despite the geometric shape, the rough-sawn larch cladding is cut in the shiplap style—traditional in this part of East Anglia. The hut is off-grid, so a translucent roof panel and the glazed double doors ensure the most can be made of the daylight. Oil lamps, LEDs and a wood-burning stove do the rest. We call it the dacha, but the vegetable garden is still, shall we say, at the conceptual stage—it’s proving too good a place to hang out.

i can’t believe that a cishet white man surprised us with a complex scifi story featuring a multiracial couple with a lesbian and bisexual without any sort of sexuality erasure and with a happy ending about finding love against all odds that defies space and time…like what a fuck you to all the writers who say it is too hard to write good stories with wlw characters

Stucky Feels!

I’ve always shipped them but it’s recently that I’ve been reading fics in this fandom and they are amazing. This is my collection of amazingness in words. My Stucky fanfic rec.

6:13 AM by @halerogers

It was routine, getting on the train that early in the morning, and Steve had it down to a damn tee. It was tiring, waking up that early to catch a train to work, but it wasn’t so bad.

Especially not after he started showing up.

He was the man with murder eyes and shockingly good looks despite the whole hobo vibe but with a soft center. Steve liked to call him the Human Impersonation of the Grumpy Cat in his head; Grumpy Cat for short when he whined about him to either Natasha or Sam.

OR – in which Steve falls in love with a stranger.

A Christmas Game by @that-girl

Bucky loses his pet mouse and yells at his very hot neighbour to keep his cat away from his baby. And Natasha regrets the day she met Bucky. It’s a fluff fest.

An Accident of Time by Pickitup

Boys weren’t omegas. Not outside of blue movies, or bluer songs, at least, the kind of anecdotes too ribald even for soldiers to tell. Girls were omegas, sometimes, but rarely, even in those days. Dying breeds, he guessed. When he was the asset it had stopped entirely, he had thought it all over: feels sick thinking of what they would have done to exploit him if he had suffered back then. But now, 2014, eating three meals a day, sleeping regularly in a safe bed, the old ghost has come back.

Bite Your Tongue by Avaaricious

AKA the “I work at a department store and if you take out and unfold a shirt and then leave it one more time I’m going to stuff it down your throat” AU

Captain Fantastic and the Pineapple King by @bucky-fucky-barnes

Shit.
She hadn’t noticed him yet. Maybe he could turn and leave without them noticing – Sam would understand. Sam was the most empathetic person he knew. He wouldn’t scold Steve for coming home spice-less to avoid an awkward encounter with an ex. Surely.
They drew closer
Fuck
Please don’t notice me, please don’t notice me, please don’t notice me…
“Steve?”
Fuck.

In which Steve is saved from his ex in a grocery store, Bucky Barnes is Way Too Chill about absolutely everything, and Sam has had enough of all of these goddamn pineapples in his fucking house.

Or: The five times Steve received a pineapple (and one Piña Colada) and the one time he didn’t

Come On, Leave Me Breathless by @emphasisonem

“Shit, I don’t want to talk to him,” Bucky huffs, running a hand through his hair and blurting out the first idea that comes to mind, “I really- would you make out with me real quick?”

“What?” the blond bleats, blue eyes wide as he stares at Bucky.

In which Bucky really doesn’t want to talk to his ex and enlists the help of an attractive stranger to avoid him.

Cool Beans by @emphasisonem

“Guy looks a little like a hobo,” Pietro smirks, and a whoosh of breath leaves the young man as his sister elbows him in the stomach.

“Be kind,” Wanda admonishes him. “He’s very handsome, Steve. He looks strong.”

“Don’t be gettin’ any ideas there, Wanda,” Steve smiles at his friend. “I’m doing just fine on my own. I have the shop to think about. I don’t need any romantic entanglements right now.”

“We’ll see,” Wanda’s lips turn up at the corners, and Steve can’t help but laugh at the mischief sparkling in her eyes.

In which Steve owns a coffee shop and Bucky is a carpenter who buys the property next door.

Did you really just ask….? by Kare

“I just want to sit on the couch with you, watch bad action movies, eat greasy pizza and marry you. Is that really that much to ask?”

Steve can deal with the first three wishes. He isn’t really sure if he heard the fourth one correctly…

Well, only one way to find out… maybe…

Enjoy the Silence by neversaydie

Silence used to be peaceful for Bucky. These days it makes him feel like he’s waiting for something, like he’s listening for the warning sounds of predators approaching.

Now silence means he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He lives in a beautiful apartment with his husband-to-be and tells himself that everything is just fine. He doesn’t sleep, he’s scared of putting a foot wrong in case Brock snaps again, and he’s desperately lonely, but he has everything he ever wants and that should be enough. It’s not like he can complain about being taken care of, even if parts of it aren’t exactly his choice.

Running into his childhood friend (literally) just might change everything. ‘Just fine’ doesn’t seem like enough once Steve walks back into his life. The problem is, Bucky’s been stuck in his cage for so long that he’s not sure he can leave it on his own.

Filthy Things You Say by Limoncello_Bella

Bucky wanted to kiss him, kiss him and then press him against the wall or desk and do things to him that would leave them both as a pile of sexually sated human mush. Mentally, he swore, he didn’t even have a type, but spitfire twinks more stubborn than a mule were quickly becoming number one on the nonexistent list.

Or.

Steve is a cuddle-slut drunk and his latest victim is one Bucky Barnes.

For Who I’ve Not Yet Become by @thebestpersonherelovesbucky

Bucky Barnes – powerful Wall Street tycoon – has everything he needs. Money, good looks, a life in the fast lane. He’s living on top of the world in a Park Avenue Penthouse in Manhattan, is the youngest vice president ever over at Stark Industries and might even be named Forbes Man of the Year – again. Nothing can bring him down.

That is until Bucky has a strange encounter with a young man named Eli on Christmas Eve and wakes up Christmas morning married to his old college sweetheart, Steve Rogers.

With his entire world turned upside down, Bucky must find a way to navigate his way through marriage and fatherhood and suburbia. And maybe find the unique answer to the age old question… What if…?

Keep reading