tagging just to make sure the people who asked for them see em

c-a-b-e-s-w-a-t-e-r  asked:

zimbits. “Less homicidal thoughts about your annoying coworker right now, please. I’m in a meeting over here.” pLEASE

Charlie asked for this about 30 years ago but I’m just getting around to it now. It’s prompt from this list. 


If he thinks I’m going to let a single tart anywhere near his ruinous Trump-sized hands he’s got another thing coming. Actually, no. He can have as many tarts as he wants. Kill ‘em with kindness, and arsenic worked into the whipped cream. I’d have to add more vanilla to balance it out but–

If Jack wasn’t in a sponsorship meeting, he would be inclined to promptly bash his head into the wood of the table. It had been like this for a few weeks ago, a voice filtering in at the most inopportune times, going on diatribes against who he was presuming was the voice’s coworker (”–even the way he counts out change is annoying. The Lord is testing me. We should’ve kept the antique register, it would have hurt more when I ‘accidentally’ shut the drawer on his fingers that he just licked to count out the bills. Yes, I would LOVE my spit covered change. THANK YOU.”)

Unfortunately, Jack thought it was unlikely that NIKE would appreciate their new brand ambassador actively giving himself a concussion, so he shot the representative across the table a smile and nodded to whatever was being said before reverting back inside his head.

As ambitious as your assassination attempt is, if you could keep it to yourself I would appreciate it.

There wasn’t even a moments pause before he got his reply.

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For @profound-boning because I keep bullying her into writing fics for me. So have some dadstiel + dean in glasses.

Fun fact: babies love glasses.

Dean and Cas weren’t aware of this bit of trivia until Claire came into their lives. Dean picked her up for the first time and nearly combusted with the sweet smile the blue-eyed girl gave him before her fat little fists came up to wrap around his frames and pull them from his face.

And it became their Thing. Any time Dean was holding Claire, he lost his glasses to the little girl. She liked to wave them around or chew on them and occasionally throw them at the cat. 

Cas warned Dean he shouldn’t let her get in that habit. And sure enough Claire was soon ripping glasses off the face of anyone who was in arm’s reach of her. 

The first time Claire breaks Dean’s glasses, Cas gives what Dean assumes is an “I told you so” look. But he’s not sure. He can’t see. 

He goes through a few more pairs in the course of their first year with Claire before it’s decided that it would be easier to switch to contacts. 

Fast forward a few years, Claire is in first grade. She grew out of her glasses-wrangling phase a while back but Dean’s grown so accustomed to contacts he doesn’t switch back. Plus, he no longer looks like a total loser at work wearing goggles over his glasses.

But one day Claire gets sent home with a note from her teacher. She’s having difficulty seeing the board even from the front row.

Dean and Cas make an appointment with the eye doctor for the next week. They reassure a nervous Claire that everything will be fine but their little girl will leave that doctor’s office in tears.

“I don’t wanna wear glasses!” she cries when they get home. “I’ll look ugly!”

“Oh, honey, no,” Cas says and strokes her hair. “You’re beautiful and glasses won’t change that.”

“Garth wears glasses and all the other kids make fun of him! What if they tease me too?” She starts to cry harder.

“Isn’t that the funny kid with the sock puppet?” Dean wonders and promptly shuts up when Cas shoots him a look. “Hey, look, kiddo. No one is gonna make fun of you for just wearing glasses. There’s nothing wrong with them. They’re just a tool to help you see. And if someone does say something, sock ‘em in the-”

“Dean,” Cas warns. 

“Eh, tell the teacher,” Dean amends.

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One Last Celebration

“Where we goin’ Mama?” You asked your mother, Amber, while swinging your feet up and down in the backseat of the car as you watched the road pass by out the window.

“We’re going to see your daddy.” She told you in a tone your three your old brain couldn’t process. She seemed sad but was using a happy tone with you.

“Daddy!” You shouted in an excited voice, your father worked a lot and you didn’t get the chance to see him often. He worked constantly with your uncle and was always driving around fighting the bad guys. There were only a few times a year when you got to see him; your birthday, father’s day, Christmas, and two or three weekends out of the year; so whenever you got to see him it was a big deal.

“I’m so excited to see Daddy, Mama!” You told her as you continued to swing your feet even faster as you grew more eager. “When we gonna get there”

“We’ll be there in about an hour, we’re going to Mr. Bobby’s house. Daddy and Uncle Dean are there.” She said with a smile.

Fifty minutes later your mom pulled up to Singer’s Auto Salvage and you were bounding up and down your car seat. “Dad, dad, dad, dad, dad.” You repeated happily over and over as you waited for your mother to open the backseat door so you could get out.

As she opened the door you looked up to the house and saw your father walking out with a confused look on his face, “Daddy!” You shouted as you ran towards him with your arms open in a ‘pick me up’ motion.

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2

A History of Violence - Part Two (completed)

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Omega!Werewolf!Reader - A/B/O

Part One Here

Summary: You and Sam are a bonded pair with four children. You’re both interrogated by the police who are convinced that Sam and Dean are running a criminal enterprise.

This falls into the same AU as The Brown Bottle, Moonlight and The Derby

Warnings: Language, violence, dom/sub overtones. mentions of: knotting, breeding, claiming, giving birth, assault, mention of rape

Words: 4600+

Betas: @saxxxology & @moonlitskinwalker

Your name: submit What is this?


Interrogation: Sam


Sam sits on a tiny chair in a small room, wrists in handcuffs resting on the table in front of him. He’s been waiting for the better part of three hours without so much as a hello from anyone. He’s got a pretty good idea of what’s happening, at least the basics. He can’t say he wasn’t expecting to be brought in for questioning, he was, however, unprepared for the SWAT team knocking down the door to the mobile office at their construction site.

He takes a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. While he’s not new to being on this side of the law, he’s never been left to sweat in the box for this long.

He gets it, they’re proving a point.

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Young!FP Jones/Riverdale imagines - Small Town Part 1

Originally posted by thealipower

A/N: Look, I know it’s cliché but I feel this story could be really great. I hope you guys stick around for this because I’ve got a good plan for this and I hope you like it as much as you liked ‘Oh Dear’. I rewatched the whole first season to see what I could pick up about the parent’s past and I’m trying my best to include what I can but most of this will be my own creation. 

Overall Summary: Being the new girl is hard when all the attention seems to be drawing back to you even when you’re determined to stay under the radar. 

Pairing: FP Jones x reader, Alice x FP, Alice x Hal, Fred x Hermione, Fred x Mary, Hermione x Hiram, basically a lot goes on in this fic

Word count: 2,607

Warnings: Some strong language

“Honestly, Mom, you are the only woman I know who didn’t improve her situation by getting a divorce.” You shared a sideways look with your mother as you carried in the last of the boxes to your new house. 

“Stop being so dramatic, (Y/n). The town is lovely, I grew up here, everyone here is nice, it’s got a decent school. You’ll love it.” Your mom rolled her eyes at you, dusting herself down as she brought in the last box. 

“It may be lovely, Mother but it’s not Chicago or Los Angeles. Somewhere exciting. If you had just fought Dad a little harder we could have gotten enough money to live like celebrities.” You fell back onto the couch, heaving out a sigh. 

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catatonicparasomnia  asked:

what's your list of fav bellarke fan fiction????

im currently bitter bc i basically had this finished but tumblr decided to have a glitch and delete it all. anyway, here’s round 2 

cause i got you, and now that’s all that matters by @marauders-groupie

lana is beautiful and so is this fic. i think my tag for it was just a bunch of exclamation points which basically means that i’ll be in love with it forever and never be able to properly use words when talking about it. 

Clarke gets dirt stuck under her nails, Bellamy always keeps books at hand, they are both a mess but somewhere between throwing tomatoes at each other and hiding, they fall in love.

Or: Bellarke in the countryside.

Prompt: Imagine Bellarke in Modern AU. With Sunday brunches on the back porch and whispered I love yous when no one else is listening.

aphelion by @kindclaws

with the possibility of coming across as too much, let me just say that there are few people who have stolen my heart in the degree that Sara has. That being said, even if I didn’t love her to the moon and back, I would still be able to see beautiful talent, and that is definitely something that my dear friend has. So here’s the short summary of my latest obsession of hers: 

It’s been two years since the spaceship Aphelion mysteriously disappeared, its crew branded by the ARK as traitors to be shot on sight. Jake Griffin was on that ship, and with him, a dangerous secret that could change civilized space forever.

Now, Clarke wants some answers - and revenge, if she can get it. Bellamy wants a bigger ship - specifically, Clarke’s. Wells wants to fix the system his father broke. Octavia wants a little fun. Miller wants everyone to stop making poor life choices. Harper wants to kiss the new girl. And Raven? Well, Raven just wants to blow shit up.

The universe won’t know what’s hit it. (Space pirates AU!)

Sent and Delivered by @clarkescrusade

Listen. I love social media aus, nerdy!Bellamy and thirsty!Clarke. Thankfully this fic has a little of all that. It also has adorable fanboy Jas and that’s also a plus for me. This one has stayed with me since the night i read it, so it’s def up there on my faves list. 

Clarke is pretty sure Bellamy is the hottest lyft driver she’s ever had, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that he’s a pretty great conversationalist, too. When she finds out him and Raven used to work together, it feels natural to become friends. She just never thought they’d get along quite so well, or that their lives would come together so easily, or that she’d fall madly in love with him. But that’s life.

aka: a social media au incorporating text messages, snapchats, tweets, and instagrams that definitely no one asked for.

You’re Cool On The Internet, At Least by @prosciuttoe

Once again, SOCIAL MEDIA AU. They meet on facebook and yeah. this is hella cute. I love it. Also, anything Em writes is magic, so please read this and give her the love and adoration she deserves. 

Look, Clarke will not dwell on this. She will not get flustered just because a possibly cute guy on Facebook apparently shares her views on what constitutes a terrible person.

Ten minutes later, her phone gives a short, irritated buzz; startling her enough that she jumps.

Biting at the inside of her cheek, she allows herself a quick peek.

Friend request from Bellamy Blake.

Clarke has no idea how she manages to develop a crush on a guy who won’t stop fighting everyone on Facebook, but here they are.

(Or: Clarke meets Bellamy on Facebook. They hit it off.)

neither lost nor found by awildthing 

other than social media au, my weakness is modern magic users au. AND THIS IS BEAUTIFUL. 

Bellamy Blake arrives on campus and Clarke’s magic suddenly starts going haywire.

Or, Clarke meets another magic user and teaches him to control his gift–and learns some things along the way.

I Don’t Want To Be Your Friend (i wanna kiss your neck) by @spacexualkids

i love tierney more than i love most people on this god forsaken site. her writing is always like coming home which is way too cheesy even for me. so here. read this summary so i dont become a blubbering mess. 

She finds Bellamy back on that floral couch. They’d moved it into the screened room for the winter, and then back out again once the days grew long and warm. It was becoming another tradition, apparently.

And so was this; him smoking on the sofa, her head on his shoulder, voices low in the early morning while everyone else was asleep and the world felt like it belonged to them, just for the moment.

“Someone had fun,” he teases, flicking at a spot on her neck. Clarke reaches up to feel the tender skin; Glass must have given her a hickey while they were getting carried away.

She flushes, but he’s looking back at the sunrise. “I always have fun,” she reminds him, and he groans.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“This is my favorite part, though,” Clarke says, curling up a little more against him so he’ll put his arm around her for warmth. She’s still kind of drunk, so she’s not sure if she’s making sense, but she trusts that he’ll get it. Bellamy always seems to understand what she means. “Just–us. It’s my favorite.”

Bellamy stubs out his cigarette and leans back against her. “Mine too.”

That’s all I have time for tonight, but I do have a longer one in my drafts that I plan on finishing and publishing soon. 

I will also use this to shamelessly self promo - I’m taking requests for the next two weeks bc HOLIDAYS! no more teaching for me for two weeks and that is glorious. 

so pls send in any and all prompts you want filled by yours truly

anonymous asked:

hi! this is a bit of a strange question but i was wondering: how do you deal with fandom frustration? when you love fandom content but frequently feel frustrated by a large portion of the fan base? i'm a fandom baby in a lot of ways and sometimes though i feel like a jerk, it's so hard not to let other people overpower my experience. i love hearing your thoughts on everything in general, but. if you have the time i'd love to hear your thoughts on this as well. hope you have a nice day. :)

hmm! this is a great question and one I’m not 100% sure of how to answer, because for the most part I have had very positive fandom experiences. but when it comes to making your fandom experience as relaxed & fun as possible, here are my tips:

1) accept right now and forever that everyone does fandom differently, and everyone is in fandom for different reasons and to get different things out of it. it doesn’t matter if people don’t ship what you ship. it doesn’t matter if they write stories of which the summary makes you recoil in horror. they are not doing this at you. accept that you are going to do you, and everyone else is going to do themselves, and unless their shit spills over into your personal space (see point 3)) then there is literally no point in trying to control the fannish experience that anyone else is having. fandom’s a large space! there’s room for everyone! 

so the thing to do is:

2) CURATE YOUR FANNISH EXPERIENCE. I’ve been doing this since ye olde days of livejournal and do it even more intensely now. essentially: find the people you like, and the parts of fandom you like, and carve out your own corners where you can hang with like-minded people. you don’t have to be right in the thick of it, reading everything, interacting with everything and everyone. you don’t have to track all the tags which are crammed full of stuff that annoys you. you can take it slowly, and be discerning.

if you want to read meta, find the people who write it and follow them. ditto art. learn to embrace ao3’s excellent search function, and to use a tumblr blacklist. if you want to read fic and are bemoaning the fact that none of it is quite what you want: write your own! enthuse about your ideas on tumblr! leave prompts on kinkmemes! befriend some writers! I have to admit I am still pretty lost when it comes making friends on tumblr because the etiquette is bizarre and variable, but hey: the messaging system exists, askboxes exist, comments on ao3 exist. sure, different people have different levels of openness to making new bosom friends, but nobody minds being engaged. we’re in fandom to be fannish, together. 

3) if people are being jerks in your space, block ‘em. ignore ‘em. delete ‘em. I am not even remotely internet famous enough to be at risk of being deluged by trolls, but on the rare occasions that I’ve engaged in good faith and subsequently decided that I was being concern-trolled, I’ve noped cheerfully out of there. the few accusatory or unpleasant anon (because they’re always anon!) messages that have landed in my inbox, I’ve deleted without batting an eye. sometimes I share it with a friend via chat or email and we have a laugh about it, and that helps settle any residual hurt or irritation that I might feel. I’m a grown fucking woman. I keep a calm sympathetic face while being shouted at, cried on, confided in, manipulated, and projected onto, for a living. and I have zero qualms about policing the boundaries of the spaces I’ve carved out for myself–the fun, creative, relaxing, incredible places–in fandom.

4) manage your entitlement. just remind yourself every so often that nobody owes you the next chapter of that story, or the exact piece of art you want to see, or the paragraph-long comment, or the attention you crave, or the whole-hearted agreement you seek. remember that everyone has their own lives, and you’re never seeing the full picture. be gracious. be kind. try to resist the urge to snipe and snark and finger-point and complain in public; I enjoy a bit of fandom bitching as much as the next person, but I inflict it all on my friends, in chat.

5) the flipside of this is: show appreciation of the things you like. comment on that story. reblog that art with a furious tag spiral of capslock (creators LOVE tag spirals). put together a rec list–this is also a great way to show people what kind of things you like, so people who share your tastes know who to gravitate towards.

if you are frequently frustrated by a large portion of the fanbase, anon, then ask yourself: are you reading the comments? ie. are you making yourself engage with parts of fandom where people have THE WRONG OPINIONS and are writing your beloved characters THE WRONG WAY? if so: just scroll past. don’t read it. unless you really enjoy an argument, don’t feel obliged to reblog it with a detailed explanation of why they’re wrong: you’re gonna frustrate yourself and, yes, maybe end up looking like a jerk. just shrug and move on. maybe this isn’t the corner for you.

I have been following my own advice in this regard for almost 14 years. I’ve kept a handful of enduring and awesome friends from most of the major fandoms I’ve been part of, and I’m still making new ones, and I’ve (mostly) managed to avoid wank. I write what I like, and I read what I like, and I try to communicate generously and enthusiastically with people who are creating the things that I enjoy.

tl;dr - seek out the things that make you feel good, and follow them. weed out the things that make you feel bad, and ignore them. it’s fandom. it can be as serious or unserious as you like, but it IS supposed to be fun.

With All My Heart - Part 9

Word Count: 2562

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Angst, some mentions of depression/anxiety, medical situations

A/N: Tags for this series are closed. Unbeta’d. All mistakes are mine. 

Feedback and constructive criticism always welcome

With All My Heart Masterlist


The week leading up to your surgery you felt mostly numb. You weren’t scared or anxious. Just numb. Your parents had come to Texas and were staying in your house while you still stayed with Jensen. Jensen had noticed your change in demeanor and while he was trying to change it by staying upbeat, he wasn’t pushing the issue. He didn’t want to come on too strong.

Now that the IV was out of your arm you could go in the pool and that was where you could be found most of the time, floating on a raft or just on your back in the water, eyes closed, lost in thought. “Hey.” Jensen approached, sitting on the side of the pool and dangling his legs into the water. “Everyone’s gonna be here soon for dinner. Unless you wanna cancel.”

“We can’t cancel now.” You sighed and dragged yourself out of the pool. “Besides, your parents are coming and I’ve never met them. I don’t want them to hate me for canceling.”

“They wouldn’t hate you.” Jensen grabbed your towel and wrapped it around your body. “You’ve talked to ‘em on the phone. They love you just as much as I do. We’ll make dinner quick and kick everyone out and then it’ll just be me and you.”

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Brown Eyed Girl (Steve Rogers x Brown Eyed! Female Reader)

Originally posted by your-kylie-me

(TOP GIF NOT MINE CREDIT GOES TO OWNER)

(The picture is actually of my eyes so I guess that belongs to me :))

Words: 767

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Dancing, Reader wearing only Steve’s shirt and Steve checking her out, Also I think there’s like one swear word

Summary: You’ve always had mixed feelings about your eye color. But Steve loves you, his one and only Brown Eyed Girl.

A/N: So I was inspired by Van Morrison’s song, “Brown Eyed Girl”, and also seeing my eyes in the sunlight. The reader’s feelings towards her eye color are based on how I feel/felt about my eyes. This one’s for all my brown eyed beauties out there! (For those of you who don’t have brown eyes, your eyes are beautiful too!!). I hope you guys enjoy!


Brown Eyes.

Some people love ‘em.

Others hate 'em.

You had a memory of telling your parents that you wished you had blue or green eyes. You had said that yours were too boring. You remembered how they laughed and said to be happy with your eyes. That there were some people who couldn’t even see the color of their eyes because theirs didn’t work the way they were supposed to.

So you just stopped mentioning it.

Through your teenage years you slowly began to think that they might be pretty, but maybe it was just the eye makeup talking.

You still felt insecure.

But then you met Steve.

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Special Instructions (2/?)

Summary: Drunk Emma really likes pizza. She also really happens to like the cute delivery guy who seems content to carry out all of her wishes via the “Special Instructions” box on the website. (AO3)
Rating: M (lots of unnecessary cursing, sexy times in later chapters)
Word Count: ~3300
Chapters: One

i’m shocked by the feedback on this ridiculous fic haha, thanks all. for the fans of hot mess emma, ch3 is the chapter for you lol

reader requested tags: @lenfaz @ilovemesomekillianjones  (and @stubble-sandwich because lbr you pretty much are the reason i didn’t abandon this idea when i was playing around a couple months ago)

.

Special instructions: would u buy us more beer? like a lot. i will pay u

“Oh my god, Ems, I think Robin and Regina are getting it on in your room.”

She jumped at the sound of Ruby’s voice yelling in her ear over the sound of the music, then let out a whiny groan.

“Gross, on my bed?” she asked, disgusted at the thought of having to wash her linens before sleeping in them. She was buzzed enough to enjoy the atmosphere but not enough to let her friends fuck in her apartment. “Ugh, let me go stop them before I have to light my mattress on fire.”

Her movements were stilted and she stumbled a little as she walked down her hall. Sure enough, her door was shut and a sock hung from the knob. Her fist banged on the wood.

“Don’t you guys fucking dare! Go to your own apartments for this shit or I’m never inviting you over again. This isn’t college,” she shouted. A muffled grunt that sounded sort of like an apology came from the other side and she figured she’d leave and at least give them a few minutes to collect themselves.

“Emma! Where’s the beer?”

The question came from her brother who was currently losing (horrendously) at beer pong to Elsa, who had surprising accuracy for someone who was drunker than most people in the room.

“Uh, we’re out. I was about to go walk to the convenience store around the corner to get some more.”

Keep reading

Sneak Preview!

So my short one-shot for @elsewhereuniversity has become a 7,000 words and counting story. Since I’m still working on it I figured I’d give ya guys a sneak peak at it!

~

Your new roommate greets you with a smile, clothes like a bunch of sharpies threw up on them, and an extended hand.

“Hi, I’m Reagan!”

You take the hand, note the faint scars crisscrossing like a maze across the skin.

“Um, hi.”

They are so short they have to tip toe to look over your shoulder. “Do you need any help with your stuff?” You shake your head and Reagan nods, still smiling, before leaving the door open and going back to their side. “Kay, just let me know if you do.”

They are wearing the shoes that light up when you walk and you had no idea those came in adult sizes. Or maybe their feet are small? You pick up your first bag and enter the dorm, prepared for your first year at university.

You are not prepared, however, for the cat that sits on your roommate’s bed.

“Uh… we’re allowed pets here?”

Reagan looks up from their laptop, looking confused. “Pets?”

You put your bag down on your side of the room and point to the black long haired cat curled up on their tie dye sheets. Reagan follows your finger and blinks at the cat.

“That’s not a pet. That’s Skooma.”

Pause. “Like in Skyrim?”

Reagan gives you another grin. “Naw, I played Morrowind.” Nervous laughter. “I’m old.”

“I’m still pretty sure we’re not allowed cats.”

Their face goes blank and they stare.  If it weren’t for the blinking you would think they’d died or something.

“It’s… Skooma.”

Clearly, you aren’t getting anywhere about this. You’d just wait for an RA to find out or a teacher or something. It would be sad but you didn’t want to get into trouble. You put your first bag down and go to grab your other two. The meeting is at noon so you have some time to unpack and get things situated. You glance over at your roommate’s side, wondering how they’ve set their stuff up. Reagan is sitting against the wall, laptop on their lap and typing with a speed that sort of intimidates you. They haven’t even removed their shoes. Actually… now that you’re looking at their side it’s kinda… bare. Their sheets are bright tie dye that hurts to look at, there’s a rolling Hello Kitty suitcase beside the bed, and their desk is empty except for a brown, round bed, supposedly for the cat still curled up on the sheets. Other than those things the entire side of their room has no trinkets, posters, not even a litter box.

You wonder if it would be rude to put up your own posters. You eye your small framed photo’s and the Furby you’d brought. No, no, you couldn’t let something like this intimidate you. It was stupid. Who cared what your roommate did. You pull out your posters and sticky tack and try to artfully arrange them on the walls. The photos and Furby are put on your desk along with your brand new Graduation laptop.

“You might want to take the batteries out.”

You jump, in the middle of pulling out clothes and hanging them in the shared closet. “Uh… what?”

Reagan has a pair of thick, expensive looking headphones around their neck, squooshing their face. “That Furby. You should take out the batteries. Might end up hearing things you don’t want to.”

You can only stare at such a weird request.

Reagan smiles. “Just a suggestion.” They put the headphones back on and continue working on their laptop. Somehow, the cat has migrated to their lap and the computer is almost falling off their knees but they don’t seem bothered.

You wait but when they don’t do anything else you put away the last of your clothes. Reagan’s side of the closet isn’t as bare as their side of the room, at least. Just… very bright. You think some of the sneakers are heely’s for goodness sake. Who even wears those anymore? You check the time. It’s almost noon and you just know you’ll get lost on your way to the freshman meeting. You put on a new t-shirt and grab a small jacket just in case. You’re out the door before pausing. Wait… You poke your head back in.

“Uh…” Can they even hear you with those headphones on? Yet Reagan pulls them off and looks up expectantly. “Um, are you coming?”

The smiling is starting to creep you out. “To what? The freshman meeting? God no, I’m definitely not a freshman!”

What.

“What.”

“Pffft, the look… no, no, my old roommate, uh, left and I guess they had to stick someone in here.” They reach down and scratch the cat’s ears. “If you don’t like bein’ my roommate just give it a bit and I’m sure some rooms will open up.”

“Um… kay. Well, I guess I’ll see you later?”

Reagan waves with their unoccupied hand then yelps as their laptop takes a tip. You leave to muttered cursing and something that sounds like hissing air.

You only get lost once on your way to the meeting and so you’re quite early. A cheerful older student comes up and gives you a nametag. She tells you to write your name on it, but not your true name. Whatever that means. You’re staring at the nametag in confusion (do you put your full name? What the heck is a true name?) When another student comes up to you. He’s got a bit of a beard and his curly hair barely fits under his University cap.

“Havin’ some issues?”

“Uh, yeah. I was told to put my name on it but… not my true name?”

He wrinkles his nose and sighs. “Best to go with a nickname. Make ‘em happy, eh?”

It’s still weird but you put a nickname anyways and peel off the back to stick it to your t-shirt.

“Well, anyways, my name’s Harris.” You shake his hand, calloused and rough.

‘Uh, well, you already know mine.” You point to your tag.

“Now I do. What’s your room number? I’m pretty sure I can find your RA for you, I know ‘em all.”

You have to pull the crumpled piece of paper from your pocket and peer at your writing. “Um… I’m in room fourty-four floor four.”

When you look back up from putting the paper away you freeze. Because he’s… he’s staring at you with something like fear or pity.

“So, uh, fourty-four floor four, huh. Um… you met your roommate yet?”

“Yes…..?”

He nods shakily. “Good. That’s… good.”

“Is… is something wrong? They’re not some sort of murderer or something are they?”

“What? No, no.” He wipes his hands on his jeans. “Just… be careful, kay?”

O….kay?

“Is this about the ca-”

His hands clap around your mouth and holy shit you thought people only did that in movies.

“Nope. Nothing to do with them. Or it. Or anything.” You duck away from his gross, sweaty hands and give him a dubious stare. “Well, uh, the RA for floor four is that girl in the blue jacket.” He takes off, giving you looks over his shoulder.

Your RA gives you an absent nod and a smile before returning to her phone and you sit in a provided chair. You thumb on your own phone, blessed anti-social device. Noon passes and when the stragglers thin, the RA claps to get attention and smiles at everyone. You half listen to the speech. Some of it seems odd (carrying iron? Salt? The bowls by the doors had to be filled with milk?) but most was the usual stuff you had already read in the papers they hand out. Yes, you read them.

But, then…

“Oh, and who is staying in room fourty-four?”

You blink. What. Cautiously, you raise your hand and shrink when everyone looks at you.

The RA, you already forgot her name, smiles at you. “Excellent, I have to speak to you after the tour, okay?”

You nod, what else could you do? As the RA continues on, a girl beside you, glasses taking up half her face and hair pulled into a ponytail pokes you in the shoulder.

“What’s so special about room fourty-four?” She whispers through a lisp.

You shrug.

The boy on the other side of her leans over, almost falling into the girls’ lap and she pushes at his shoulder. “Do you have a single room?”

You shake your head. “No, I have a roommate.”

Both of them stare at you. The girl pulls at her skirt. “Who is it?”

“Um, they’re not a freshman. So… they’re not here.”

The boy smacks his hand on the back of the girls chair. “What? No way!”

The RA clears her throat, staring at them pointedly. The two shrink back, still giving you looks. You hope you can avoid them when the tour starts. As usual, it is not to be, and the two corner you as the group is herded together.

“So,” The girl starts. Her nametag says Bea in looping, over exaggerated cursive. “You have a roommate in a freshman dorm building who’s not a freshman?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s what I said.”

They stare at you. You stare back.

The boy, his nametag says Gary in blocky, thick pen, throws up his hands. “Well?! You can’t just say that and then not explain anything!”

You open your mouth, to say <i>i can’t tell if they’re female or male and everytime i think of asking i can’t they have a cat that doesn’t look like a cat and they smile too much</i> but the words catch in your throat and you don’t say anything.

Bea scowls at you, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whatever. C’mon, Gary, we’ll probably see this mystery roommate eventually.” she stalks off in her high heels, skirt swishing about her knees. Gary gives you a glare before following.

You wonder if you’ve lost some potential friends.

“Well, they were rude.”

You yelp and whirl around, your own hair smacking into your face.

Reagan smiles at you, wearing an eye searing orange hoodie and bright pink sweatpants. They are pulling their Hello Kitty suitcase behind them and you have no idea how you didn’t hear them approach.

“I was just heading out and saw you about to start your tour so I decided to say hi.” They tsk and shake their head. “But instead I hear some truly rude people. Those two won’t make any friends like that. Are you okay, though?”

You work your jaw and give them a watery smile. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine.” For some reason the question makes the two’s snubbing hurt even worse.

Reagan looks into the distance, seeming lost in thought. It goes on long enough you shuffle uncertainly. Just as you’re about to speak they meet your eyes and give you a grin. “Don’t worry about people like them. Oh! Here, you should wear this.” They reach into their hoodie pocket and pull out a bead bracelet. It’s made of those cheap plastic beads you get in kid jewellry making kits. All you can tell is that the colours are bright and many, pinning down the pattern or naming any makes your head hurt.

You accept it.

For some reason you slip it onto your wrist. It’s made of that stretchy string you get in the kits and easily fits. Against your wrist you can see some of the beads are the white letter ones and you flip them over.

Your name.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your tour. See ya!” Reagan turns, the suitcase making no noise as it runs over the gravel. Their hood is bulging outwards and you can see a black, fluffy tail draped over the edge. Two bright yellow eyes stare at you.

You are not sure when you return to the group. The tour guide’s don’t mention it, in fact they avoid looking at you altogether. You listen to the speeches about the cafeteria and how to use meal points. You follow as they show everyone the library, the on site gym, hand out maps for campus. You rub the bracelet, feeling the square beads in between the round ones.

You… are pretty sure you never told anyone your full name.

Nothing you own has your full name on it.

Only your student number was on your assigned room sheet.

After the tour everyone is herded into the cafeteria for lunch (provided by the school specifically for the freshman). You find your floors RA and tap her on the shoulder. She turns, giving you a customer service generic smile.

“Uh, you wanted to see me after the tour?”

The other older students she was talking to peer at you curiously. Harris is the only one actively avoiding looking at you.

“Oh! Excellent, just give me a sec, you guys.” You follow when she walks into an unoccupied corner. “Okay, your roommate was there when you went to your room, right?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Thought so. So the… uh, previous roommate left some stuff and I figured you could use it.”

“What? Like… clothes? Shouldn’t that stuff be given to, um, someone else?”

She laughs and reaches into her pocket. “Not that kind of stuff.” She pulls out a bag of dried salmon cat treats, a small toy mouse, and a pair of glasses with one of the lenses cracked.You take it because she won’t stop holding the stuff out to you expectantly.

You stare at it. “Um, doesn’t this cat stuff belong to my roommate?”

She shakes her head. “You’ll need it. But don’t wear those,” she points to the glasses. “All the time. They’re brushed with iron. Don’t want to see stuff you shouldn’t!” She laughs, too bright, too loud. “Well, good luck!” And she leaves you standing there with an armful of weird cat things and a pair of useless glasses. You don’t even wear glasses. Actually… you touch the lenses. They’re plastic.

Weird.

Flames and Snowflakes

Yours’ one shot series - Ethan Dolan

Warning: smut

Two pairs of snow boots heavily trudged uphill on slick and slushy terrain. The sun was shining brightly in the clouded sky, but beneath it was deceiving- trees without leaves, snow and ice filtering the ground, crisp flakes soaring and swooshing about with the wind. It was cold, the skin on Ethan’s arms erupting in goosebumps under his coat while he held firmly to his snowboard. A smirk lifted on his lips listening to you moan and groan.

“Go to Colorado, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.” You huffed, stepping around a few more boulders, twigs crunching under your feet. “I knew I should’ve tagged along with Grayson, instead.”

Keep reading

Girls’ Night In (reader x Avengers/Scott Lang)

Characters: reader, Wanda, Natasha, Scott Lang, Cassie Lang. 

Summary: It’s ladies night at the tower, complete with a Gilmore Girls marathon,  junk food, and friendly rivalries when a surprise visitor puts a twist on the evening’s events. (spoilers for Gilmore Girls, if you haven’t seen it yet)

Warnings: nada!! Pure fluff, ya’ll. Cavity inducing. 

Word Count: 2275 (good heavens, that was an accident)

Tags are at the bottom (TAG LIST IS CLOSED)

A/N: This is for my lovely, my darling Mariana ( @buckysberrie ) Happy Birthday, sweetie!! I really hope you enjoy this. :) Man, I dunno how this got so long but the fluff kept flowing and when I thought of the single parent parallels, well, I just couldn’t stop. Any thoughts are appreciated!! 

Masterlist

_______________________________________________________

Originally posted by miranduhhpriestly

“Ugh, he’s such a spoiled, Trust Fund jerk-face.”

“He is not!” Natasha protested. “He’s just…a little entitled and misunderstood. Just how I like ‘em,” the redhead smirked, returning her gaze to the tv screen.

“Seriously? Logan? The Life and Death Brigade, are you kidding me? Ridiculously lavish parties in the woods with formal wear, death-defying stunts, and games where you can’t use the letter “E” in conversation? Yeah, not at all pretentious,” you fired back sarcastically, throwing a handful of popcorn in her direction.

“Oh, right, like you haven’t used the term ‘misunderstood’ to describe a certain well-read, possibly criminal, runaway bad boy who crashes cars,” she replied, cocking an eyebrow.

You gasped in horror. “How dare you speak ill of my Jess! He was her match intellectually and in pop culture references, plus with their love for music and books, it’s no secret that they belong together. He was just immature but he grew up really well,” you smiled before biting your lip with thoughts of the older brunet bad boy, trying not to spoil it.

“Hey, now! No need to fight,” Wanda spoke up, acting as the peacemaker. “Besides, we all know Rory belongs with Dean. Obviously.”

Keep reading

Find a comfy position, grab a tea and get ready to binge-read the heck out of these wonderful fics! At the beginning of the month I asked followers and stucky lovers on tumblr to send in their favourite Stucky fanfictions which had been written and completed in 2015. I cannot thank everyone who submitted their favs enough! This is the most EPIC list on this blog and it is all because of you guys! But enough rambling from me. Happy readings! And I wish everyone the very best in the New Year! 

All fanfictions listed below are for the pairing Steve Rogers/James “Bucky” Barnes. There is no order to this list. Please read all tags and author notes before reading. 

our golden age by augustbird

Wherein Bucky is the crown prince and Steve still becomes a hero.

rated explicit . 147k

Schrödinger’s Romance by InTheMiddleOfNowhere

“It could be a relationship, it could not be. You can assume either until you see for sure the results.”

We all know those moments. Those moments when your family all gathers around you and asks “So, do you have a boyfriend yet?”. Bucky knows these moments all too well and, quite frankly, he’s sick to death of them. Unfortunately, being a 21 year old college student makes it harder for him to come up with excuses, and with Christmas coming up he needs to think of a way out fast. A chance encounter with a stranger through an old library textbook could just be the kind of miracle he needs to make it through the holidays with his last shreds of sanity intact.

rated mature . 196k

Melt Into, Melt Until by notoska

Steve looks up and holds his blown black eyes. “Tell me how you want to fuck me.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open a little and his eyes roll. “Slow,” he slurs, his body is rocking back and forth with Steve’s touch, “So slow. So slow that you beg.” Bucky lifts his head again. He pushes his forehead to Steve’s and his voice dips, “So slow you start fucking yourself on it. And deep—” Bucky moans, biting his lip, “So fucking deep. Spread you open so I can get deeper. Make you come so hard you beg for more before your cock’s gone soft.”

rated explicit . 79k

Is It Pretending If I Already Want You? by OhCaptainMyCaptain

Based on prompt: Pretend Boyfriends AU where one of their families is always wondering why they’re never in a relationship, so the other offers to pretend to be their boyfriend for some family event"

Basic Steps to Getting Yourself In a Pickle With Both Your Family and The Guy You’ve Secretly Crushed On For Five Years (A Guide):

STEP 1: After being perpetually single and constantly making up excuses to your family, give in and lie about having a boyfriend.
STEP 2: Agree to bring said boyfriend to the family cottage for a week so he can be your date to your parents’ wedding anniversary party.
STEP 3: Panic.
STEP 4: Say ‘yes’ when your best friend and closet crush - who you’re convinced isn’t interested in you that way in the least - offers to be your pretend boyfriend.
STEP 5: Try your best not to fall in love with them during the trip.
STEP 6: Fail miserably.

rated explicit . 85k

It’s Just Temporary by perfect_plan

Bucky Barnes has no idea what he wants to do with his life and is stumbling from one temp job to the next. Hopefully he can keep his new job at Stark Industries for longer than a week…

rated mature . 52k

Thawed Out by auburnnothenna (auburn) and eretria

He’s not the Asset. He’s not the Winter Soldier. But neither is he Bucky Barnes. With the help of Steve, Sam and the Avengers, James takes the long, slow road to recovery. Nothing is as easy as either of them thought it would be.

rated explicit . 159k

Into That Good Night by Nonymos

Steve Rogers has lived for entirely too long—long enough to see the world’s end. The heroes are gone, and the Earth is pushing what’s left of mankind towards the exit.

But when a makeshift team rises from the ashes, when a mysterious presence all but drags Steve there, he begins to think there may be hope yet. As they shoot for the stars one last time, Steve will get proof yet again that the future is nothing if not an echo of the past.

rated explicit . 73k

nothing goes over his head by fmo

In which Bucky gets knocked out briefly during a mission, wakes up fine, and then spends a day enduring strange hints, clandestine looks, and cryptic texts from his friends. Steve will never let him live this one down.

rated teen . 1k

4 Minute Window by Speranza

“Look, if they catch me,” Bucky muttered, “they’re either going to kill me or they’re going to put me in a box with a little window and—Steve, I can’t.”

rated explicit . 24k

if the bad times are coming let 'em come by suzukiblu

“I think I’m gonna have to hurt some people,” Steve Rogers says, voice tight with rage. The asset assumes that will be him, then laughs at himself for the thought.

He’s not people.

rated explicit . 9k

If Ye Be Worthy (the Stubborn as a Brick Wall Remix) by Taste_is_Sweet

Bucky didn’t even glance up from beating the trembling heavy bag to death. “You’re gonna tell me that being turned into the Red Room’s assassin and then Hydra’s fucking attack dog for seventy-whatever years wasn’t my fault and that Tony was talking crap and you can’t think of anyone more worthy to hold Mjölnir than me.”

“Well, you’re right,” Steve said, only barely surprised. “So why the hell are you still down here?”

The look Bucky threw him was too resigned for a glare. “Because we both know that’s bullshit.”

rated teen . 6k

What If I Told You by DeadWalker

Bucky tries to tell Steve something important. It takes a few tries before he gets it right.

rated teen . 8k

Sincerely, Your Pal by lettered

“[…] lesbians and gay men writing letters to their lovers and friends faced the special problem of wartime censorship. Military censors, of course, cut out all information that might aid the enemy, but this surveillance made it necessary for gay and lesbian correspondents to be careful not to expose their homosexuality. To get around this, gay men befriended sympathetic censors or tricked others by using campy phrases, signing a woman’s name (like Dixie or Daisy), or changing the gender of their friends. Sailors became WAVEs, boyfriends became WACs, Robert became Roberta. There must exist, hidden in closets and attics all over America, a huge literature of these World War II letters between lesbians and between gay men that would tell us even more about this important part of American history.” - Coming Out Under Fire: The History of Gay Men and Women In World War Two, by Allan Berube

rated mature . 65k

Your Lack Of An Answer Is Kind Of An Answer: Four Questions Natasha Asked Steve Rogers, And One Time Bucky Barnes Answered by Speranza

“All right, I have a question for you. Oh, but you don’t have to answer it. I feel like if you don’t answer it though, you’re kind of answering it, you know…”

rated mature . 4k

A Precarious, Fragile Thing by Taste_is_Sweet

“I didn’t know he did that,” Tony said. He knew Bucky liked tucking himself so far under Steve’s arm that it was like he was trying to climb into his armpit. But he’d always stayed upright, just kind of plastering himself against Steve’s side. This blanket thing was new.

“Seventy years of skin hunger,” Steve said. His voice was just as soft, but for a moment his eyes flickered hot with anger, bright as the candy-colored screen. “He was always tactile. Now, when things get…well, sometimes it helps. The contact.”

And it looked…nice, the two of them together like that: Comfortable. Familiar. Safe. Tony knew what a precarious, fragile thing it was, to feel safe in the middle of the night.

rated teen . 6k

Blood And Frost Bite by thegreennoodle

Steve took a few deep breaths. He wasn’t sure he could handle another minute with this monster. “And what about me? I’m an easy target, aren’t I? Why aren’t you killing me right now?”

The man frowned. He seemed confused as well. “I don’t want to.”

“Why did you bring me here if you won’t kill me?”

Another damn shrug. “Felt like it.”

“Oh, god,” Steve groaned. He had been taken to god-knew-where on the complete whim of a murderer. And he thought his life sucked before.

Steve’s life was normal enough. He had an average job and a crappy apartment. Boring, but he knew it could be worse. Unfortunately, it does become much worse for him when he encounters one of the most infamous serial killers in U.S. history and is swept up into his world. Steve must now do his best to survive and maintain his sanity, all the while trying to figure out what his captor really wants.

rated mature . 59k

I was wearing my blue coat by Maelipstick

Following exposure of his past as the Winter Soldier, anonymous postings of explicit video footage, 63 charges of murder and the wrath of the Internet, James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes finally steps into the limelight and tells his story to Zenat Patel of the New York Times.

rated explicit . 11k

home is the nicest word there is by sheisraging

Sometimes they’re just obnoxious to each other for the sake of being obnoxious. It must be some left over behavior from years of being in each other’s pockets. Playmates, schoolboys, roommates, army boys, lovers – there’s a lot of relationship in there. The others don’t even try to pretend they get it.

rated general . 5k

Take Me to Church by neversaydie

Steve Rogers is a struggling artist. It’s not as romantic as it sounds.

What Steve really wants is a job as a session musician. He can play enough instruments that he could make a decent amount of money doing it, but in New York there are just too many talented musicians and not enough jobs to go around. So he takes jobs in hipster bars, hotel lobbies, at weddings and bar mitzvahs and office parties.

If he gets one more request for Let it Go, he swears he’ll find it within himself to punch a child.

He lives in a tiny, shitty apartment with Sam, who was his sort-of-boyfriend for a few weeks until he decided Steve’s very domestic relationship goals weren’t for him. They’re still pretty much best friends, luckily for Steve, because when the regular pianist at Sam’s dance company runs away to Canada he’s recommended his roommate and got him the job before Steve even knows about it.

Dancers. Steve’s going to have to spend his days with dancers. Great.

rated explicit . 124k 

Team-Building Exercises by owlet

Integration into adult human social dynamics requires attention and effort. Especially with this bunch of damaged bozos.

(A series of interconnected one-shots.)

rated teen . 22k

Half of the History (We Shall Never Know) by Speranza

This is a war story.

rated explicit . 36k

Shangri-La by nimmieamee

Steve gets money, still won’t move in with Bucky, and somehow totally misses that Queer Brooklyn is an option.

rated teen . 6k

Sharp Teeth and Bird Bones by Shaish and Stringlish

I’ll always find you.

rated explicit . 32k

hold me until we crumble by queenklu

“Sam told me you were watching Antiques Roadshow,” Natasha says, shaking out her hair. “I assumed it was a national emergency.”

rated NA . 22k

G.I. Joes and 2AM Diners by OhCaptainMyCaptain

They look nothing like what they used to. Time and life have completely changed them. But as they sit there in silence, eating two halves of one cupcake, letting Brooklyn remind there where they came from, and enjoying a sky full of stars… They are those same little boys, somewhere deep down. For just a second, you’d be able to see them again.

And Bucky thinks to himself that maybe it’s little moments like these – fleeting as they may be – that remind him why life is still worth living.

rated explicit . 100k

Apes Debemus Imitari (We Should Imitate the Bees) by buckysbees

Steve operates a fruit & veg stand at a farmer’s market. Bucky keeps bees and has started up a honey shop just opposite. They’re failing to get along. Steve gets along a lot better with the anonymous friend he’s been writing letters to. In fact, he’s rapidly falling for him.

rated general . 15k

Copy Of A… by Brenda

“This…” He hesitates, a breath between heartbeats, and waits in vain for the ache to subside. “I’ve done this before.”

rated mature . 1k

just say you do by biblionerd07

Steve just wanted a job. He wasn’t expecting a marriage proposal. And he certainly wasn’t expecting to accept.

rated teen . 173k

Sparked Up Like a Book of Matches by Sena

Steve lives in Stark Tower and doesn’t have much to do when he’s not going after Hydra strongholds. He attends charity events to make Pepper happy. He goes hiking with Sam. He hangs out with Clint in Bed-Stuy and watches Dog Cops. Sometimes Tony gives him super alcohol in a sippy cup. Sometimes he sees Bucky out of the corner of his eye and wonders if it’s real or if he’s starting to lose his mind.

Alternately, the one with terrible jokes, a foot chase through the Lower East Side, and a tiny little robot named Shitcan.

rated mature . 26k

what would i try to say by Feather (lalaietha)

And maybe, maybe someday Bucky will have to tell Natalia exactly how fucking glad he is none of her attempts to set Steve up worked, and how it has nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with how sex, sex that works, makes Steve’s walls drop like fucking water.

And how it’s hard to tell what’s worse, because if you know what you’re looking at you know how easy it would be to fuck him up and that makes him such an easy fucking target - but if you don’t, you might just do it by accident anyway.

rated mature . 1k 

Sing Me the Alphabet by thesardine

There wasn’t anything left to salvage. That’s what Fury believed. It would have been a kindness to put him down.

When SHIELD finally releases Bucky from custody, he is not the man anyone expects him to be. The ruthlessness of the Winter Soldier is gone, replaced with a child-like wariness as he struggles to communicate his warped understanding of who he is and what was done to him. But with Hydra scrambling to regroup, SHIELD takes dangerous measures to secure Zola’s algorithm to use against them, and Steve is dragged back into battle, forced to weigh what’s best for Bucky against what’s best for the fate of the free world.

Then Bucky is abducted.

Steve races to recover his friend before the man who was Bucky is gone forever. When the rescue stalls, he starts to crumble under the weight of everything he has lost and everything the war has taken from him.

Meanwhile, Bucky confronts a terrible piece of ex-SHIELD tech that was in development long before Project Insight, but in order to survive, he must decide who he is going to be: the vulnerable Bucky Barnes or the indomitable Winter Soldier? It turns out there might not be as big a difference as everyone seems to think.

rated teen . 78k

Cognitive Recalibration by stele3

The subject will need extensive re-programming.

rated teen . 7k

In the Stardust of a Song by gwyneth rhys (gwyneth)

The shudder courses through you again, there’s a vicious throb like that first touch of the ice on your skin. You don’t know this song. You don’t know any music at all.

rated mature . 9k

Make a Thing Go Right by hansbekhart

Sam meets Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes on a Thursday night, at a burlesque show, and how it happens is this:

It’s already late, later than he should be out on a weeknight, but the theme of the show was a super hero revue and there was no way he was gonna miss that. It’s loud in the venue, which is the back space of what probably used to be a warehouse right near the Gowanus Canal, and Sam’s already had a few. He’s up at the bar during the break, watching the act. He doesn’t hear someone say, “Behind!” so when he steps away from the bar, he smashes right into the guy who’d just done the Captain America routine up on stage, and knocks his drinks to the ground.

-
Or, I wanted to see more stories that captured the weirdness and complexity of being queer, in your late 20s, and trying to date in Brooklyn - which is my life - so I wrote one. Takes place in the MCU.

rated explicit . 100k

The Man On The Wall by CaseyStar

Bucky Barnes was a member of Ares 3.

Now he’s the lone man on Mars, with no communications, not enough food and no way to get home.

He’s a little fucked off about it.

rated teen . 182k

Hard to Say by betty days (sadrobots)

“What worked for me was a nice, solid punch in the face. I’m not sure that’ll do much for you, though. Looks like you’ve been through enough already,” Hawkeye said.

rated mature . 17k

Any Old Bed Of Nails by Clytaemnestra

“Bucky looks at him, through him; doesn’t meet his eyes. "I know you.”

“Yeah,” Steve says slowly, forcing words out through a throat that has just closed up. “You know me.”

Bucky nods jerkily, and produces a gun from somewhere. He offers it to Steve, handle first. “Asset reporting for debrief,” he says.

Steve doesn’t know what else to do. He takes it.“

A couple of weeks after the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Bucky surrenders to Steve. Then he starts the long road to recovery. Prepare for angst. Lots of angst.

rated mature . 26k

The Tower by sarahlucielle

Peggy Carter recruits Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes to fight against Baron Zemo, a man who desires the powers of the entity that has taken a liking to Steve Rogers. The Howling Commandos search Europe for artifacts with the mission to retrieve them before Zemo’s Secret Empire can, but the Baron is ruthless and patient, willing to play the long game.

As the world explodes into a war seeped in occult forces and lead by madmen, Bucky has to admit for his own peace of mind that he’s always loved Steve Rogers and would follow him into any kind of war, no matter how strange.

Horror AU set in World War II.

rated explicit . 76k

I’m Not Sick (But I’m Not Well) by loonietuna

Steve Rogers doesn’t meet Bucky Barnes in the 1930’s. Instead, Steve meets him April 17th, 2012.

Well…sort of meets him.

In actuality, Bucky had almost hit him with his truck.

Or: The fic where millennial Bucky Barnes nearly runs over a freshly thawed national treasure, and what Steve Rogers did to adjust to modern NYC during those two weeks before the events of The Avengers.

rated mature . 29k

20th Century Limited by Speranza

"Where am I? Where is this?” and he was in Brooklyn, he was on a beach, the train was shaking around him. He was in the plane, ice splintering up onto the windshield. He was in a tank, tubes trailing from his face, from his groin. Christ, he was cold. There was still ice on his fingers. He was in the Grand Canyon. He was in Times Square. This couldn’t be Times Square. Where the hell was this? “Tell me! Where am I, who are you, where's—” —Bucky?

rated explicit . 52k

Poppies of the Field by kaasknot

“Thank you for purchasing a StarkTech Companion 'Bot! Please state your name for licensing.”

Wherein Bucky is a severely agoraphobic combat veteran, and Steve is the android he buys out of loneliness.

rated mature . 63k

This, You Protect by owlet

The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect

rated teen . 64k (see note below)

Upgrade: Advanced Happiness Skills by owlet

WARNING: Reference to past sexual assault (not explicit)

Barnes’s body does a new thing. Thanks for all the trouble, body.

rated mature . 15k

NOTE: the entire series “Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail” was also submitted which can be found HERE on AO3!

Leave Me On The Mountain by perfect_plan

Bucky is certain that he’s about to die, cold and lost in this mountain forest. But just as he thinks that the wolves have him, someone finds him and takes him in.

rated mature . 18k

and never be forsaken by hitlikehammers

Truth is, Bucky’s always been giving up something, sacrificing pieces of himself on the promise that the trade would keep Steve with him, keep Steve breathing, keep Steve here.

Steve’s just never noticed, never put it all together, until now.

rated teen . 4k

Kotik by Taste_is_Sweet

No one knows Steve Rogers is a witch until he nearly dies and accidentally creates a familiar to save himself. The familiar is part cat, part ghost, and shares Steve’s soul. His name is James Buchanan Barnes.

But little boys don’t have cat ears, claws, or tails, and they’re terrible at keeping secrets. To protect them, Sarah Rogers asks a witch to make Bucky seem human, and then enchant the boys to forget he’s not.

Steve and Bucky grow up inseparable, but they don’t talk about how they know when the other’s hurting, and Bucky never tells Steve about the urge to hunt he can barely control.

He’s terrified he’s a monster, and then the War comes and then Azzano, and Bucky finds out he’s right.

And then he falls, and Hydra finds him.

(“What are you?” Steve says.

“I don’t k-know.” James looks at his hand, the sharp, curving claws, then at Steve again. “D-do you know? You made me.”)

rated mature . 59k

Catfish by L1av

Catfish /ˈkatˌfiSH/ - A catfish is someone who pretends to be someone they’re not using Facebook or other social media to create false identities, particularly to pursue deceptive online romances.

Steve Rogers is a famous movie star, known for his role as Captain America. Bucky Barnes is a bored law student who drinks too much wine. Bucky gets on match.com to boost his confidence. What he doesn’t expect is a guy using Steve Rogers’ pictures on a dating profile. Bucky decides to mess with the guy. After all, what idiot uses Steve Rogers’ pictures on a dating site?

Not like it’s really him, right? Bucky may need more wine.

rated explicit . 28k

Since I can’t remember when by euseevius

Steve Rogers is in love with James Barnes. Some people realize that sooner than others.

rated NA . 397

My Good Fellow by euseevius

”Would you marry me if I asked, Stevie?”

Or in which Steve and Bucky get married three times.

rated general . 1k

Scrap Metal by Scappodaqui an tinzelda

Steve and Bucky write each other during the war. With more than your usual inclusion of spam & jam sandwiches, chickens, radar-evasion devices, Dum Dum Dugan’s hat, and that dumb lunkhead who plays Captain America. Who’s that, Steve? Oh, just some guy I work with.

Title is a reference, in part, to this scene from The First Avenger–

Bucky: Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs.
Steve: What am I gonna do? Collect scrap metal…
Bucky: Yes!
Steve Rogers: …in my little red wagon.
Bucky: Why not?

rated mature . 31k

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you by Scappodaqui

Bucky sometimes caught himself thinking, about the war: is all of this happening because old men saw the raw life in young men and wanted to squelch it? It was the same thing he had thought in school. Running track. When he had worked in the crew building the World’s Fair Railroad. And especially when he got his draft letter: they want to crush us like a piece of tin on train tracks.

Begins at Kreischberg prison camp, continues after the rescue.

rated explicit . 40k

steve rogers: pr disaster by @idiopath-fic-smile

“Wait,” says Sam, “you had a publicist?”

“For my first five months at S.H.I.E.L.D,” says Steve. “Then she quit. Uh, decisively.”

rated general . 4k

Some days last longer than others by crooked and notallbees

Bucky moves onto Pastor Rogers’ farm on a Sunday.

“Can’t offer you much right now,” Rogers had said with a sad twist to his mouth, “but there’s an old cabin needs fixing up, you’re welcome to camp out there and do whatever you want with it.” He laughed. “Maybe you can even teach my boy to use a hammer.”

The pastor’s seventeen year old son Steve is the last thing Bucky expects. He’s got a smart mouth, a nose for trouble, and a habit of seducing members of the football team. Bucky didn’t think he was looking for anything, but Steve ’s got his own ideas about what Bucky needs.

rated explicit . 85k

through smoke, solid ground by magdaliny

You take the arm off four days later.

rated teen . 25k

QuickPic by biblionerd07

Steve loses his phone and doesn’t think too much about it…until someone puts his pictures and texts on the internet.

rated general . 5k

All Those Things You’ve Always Pined For by LavenderProse

Steve Rogers. I haven’t thought about him in…God, at least ten years. Probably longer.“
“Who is he?” Sharon asks, and perches on the corner of his desk, hands folded in her lap. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Bucky clears his throat, tosses the sticky note onto the desk. “Steve was…my college boyfriend. We almost got married.”

It’s been fifteen years since Bucky Barnes left Steve Rogers standing in a New York airport and never saw him again. Those fifteen years have brought him wealth and stability; everything his lower middle class Brooklyn upbringing had not provided. He is happy. He doesn’t want for anything.
He doesn’t need anything.
That’s about to change.

rated explicit . 92k

It’s possible that he wants you too by belovedmuerto

“Bucky kissed me this morning,” Steve says, not quite believing the words even as they’re coming out of his mouth.

“Wait,” Sam replies. “Back up.”

rated teen . 4k

Benefit by ibroketuesday

Saving Bucky was the easy part. The hard part is the garden parties they have to attend afterward.

rated mature . 11k

Milestones by andloawhatsit

Brooklyn 1918 to Brooklyn 2015: In which Steve questions his humanity, has a mid-twenties crisis (though he doesn’t call it that), makes friends, falls in love again, and slowly learns that he doesn’t need to live in the past to honour his memories.

This is a soulmates AU, written for bisexualstevenrogers to explore what this kind of universe would look like in the day-to-day—that is, the idea of soulmates against our actual world and histories—as well as what it might mean for someone like Steve or Bucky, who have had their bodies altered and subjected to someone else’s control. For them, I think, the idea of soulmates and soulmate tattoos—which direct you without your permission—can really highlight how much they struggle for their individuality and personal freedom (and to sort themselves out in the 21st-century).

rated teen . 54k

Friday I’m in Love by betty days (sadrobots)

barefootbucky: heyyy! sorry it took me so long to reply. hope you got the last few postcards i sent. ok so i’m in istanbul now and there’s a dirt cheap direct flight to dc. thinkin about stopping by for a bit. mind if i crash with you? the road is great and all but i think i need some time to recoup.

rated explicit . 8k

Nietzsche is Dead by mambo

“God is dead.” —Nietzsche
“Nietzsche is dead.” —God
“Doesn’t matter if God is dead, or Nietzsche, or both.” —Sam Wilson

rated teen . 10k

Under Paper Skies by InterruptingDinosaur

All Bucky wants is to get back to New York in time for his meeting, but his luck runs out when a blizzard traps him in D.C. It gets even worse when the guy looking like Bucky’s every dirty fantasy come to life catches him giggling at the erotic thrillers in the romance section of the airport bookstore.

So much for making a good first impression.

rated mature . 18k

Project Phoenix by TheAvalonian

“They told me you were enemies,” the girl said blankly. “They told me I had been forged in hatred.”

Neither Bucky nor Steve said anything for a long time. The girl stayed with her hand pressed to the glass, waiting. This time, the question was there, even if she hadn’t asked it outright.

Bucky cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from Steve’s and pushing down on the handle. “Well, they lied,” he said gruffly, and strode out the door without looking back.

Post-TWS, Steve and Bucky’s lives are just starting to resemble some kind of normal when a young Hydra agent shows up in the lobby of the Avengers’ Tower, claiming to be their daughter.

rated teen . 73k

Past Lives by earthseraph

Steven Grant Rogers: Male, 32 years old, former Army Captain, present day art professor at NYU.

James Grant: Male, 33 years old, mysterious writer of a book that sounds a lot like Steve and Bucky’s life, told from Bucky’s point of view.

But Bucky’s dead. He died in action during the Iraq war- didn’t he?

(Or: The one where Bucky’s supposed to be dead, Steve’s supposed to have moved on, but there’s a book and two very amused friends.)

rated mature . 46k

Too Long We Have Tarried by kototyph

Bucky picks up the ring and holds it between them. “Steven Grant Rogers,” he says solemnly. “Will you marry me?”

rated explicit . 19k

Click Here to Read Full Article by thecommodore_squid

“You’re losing public favor at a dramatic rate.”

“Oh.”

Fury glared. “Fortunately, I am smart enough for the both of us and have created a narrow pathway of recovery. This option has a little bit of opportunity-cost, but I’m eighty-three percent sure that it’ll be worth it and it’ll work in the long run.” Nick paused, then amended, “Eighty-two percent.”

AKA
A Fake Dating AU in which Steve and Bucky are famous.

rated mature . 33k

Hell On Wheels by LastAmericanMermaid

Bucky Barnes is an honorably discharged soldier who was captured by enemies while on a covert op and still struggles with PTSD–

His roommate is Natasha, lead jammer for the Brooklyn Bombshells, a WFTDA roller derby team with national ranking owned by obnoxious billionaire Tony Stark.

Natasha’s derby team’s new coach is Steve Rogers, ex-army and ex-NHL, total nerd and complete life-ruining babe.

Somewhere in all the team rivalry, and the wipeouts, and the uphill climb of recovery, two dudes on skates figure out that they want to kiss each other.

rated mature . 37k

The Fifties by Speranza

"Because everything’s all right, isn’t it?” Bucky said. “Everything’s great. I’m so happy; I never thought I could be this happy. You’re happy, too, aren’t you, Peg?”

rated explicit . 28k

The Needle and the Killing Done by spitandvinegar

The asset wears blue jeans, a t-shirt, a denim jacket. The asset wears one glove. The asset walks around the city. It feels as if it remembers something. It doesn’t know what it remembers. Perhaps it remembers everything.

After two days the insects crawling over the asset’s body become intolerable. The asset uses its metal arm to attempt to remove the insects from the meat arm. The results are not satisfactory.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” says a pile of refuse.

rated mature . 7k

Snickerdoodles Are the Way to Steve’s Heart by HMSLusitania

Steve can’t help but be a little annoyed when Natasha signs him up for a cooking class - a couple’s cooking class. At least, he’s annoyed until he meets the instructor, who might just be the most attractive man Steve has ever laid eyes on.

Featuring chef!Bucky, bitterly single Steve, and their meddling friends.

rated teen . 15k

My Arms Were Made To Hold You by portraitofemmy and rainbow_marbles

Tired of being kept awake at night by a screaming baby, Bucky decides to take matters into his own hands. Mostly he wants a good night’s sleep, but what he gets is beautiful baby boy with big blue eyes, a lonely father trying to move on from tragedy, and a chance at a family he never expected to have.

rated explicit . 55k

Acting Their Age by @ipoiledi

Prompt: Oh god I live for Steve and Bucky acting like the 20somthing they are together, loving junk food, and doing stupid things (like the time they made a sex tape and mistakenly shared it with all the avengers… and by mistakenly I mean totally on purpose because Bucky’s probably a bit of an exhibitionist too, like “LOOK, LOOK AT MY BABYDOLL, ISN’T HE GORGEOUS? AND HE’S ALL MINE, NO YOU CAN’T HAVE HIM HAHAHA”)

rated NA . ~1-2k

Steve Rogers’ Dad Face and Other Common Hazards by AggressiveWhenStartled

Today, Peter was honest-to-god going to see Captain America himself up close, in person, and not from a rooftop or tiny crevice like a creepy stalker fanboy.

Even better, he was going to watch Steve Rogers make history by soldiering his beleaguered way through the most intensely awkward and honestly ridiculous press conference in the history of ever– jaw thrust out and spine ramrod straight. Trying hard to be polite and respectful in the face of adversity.

While a bunch of assholes with cameras and microphones shouted at him about Iron Man’s adolescent dick.

rated teen . 4k

Note: The entire series called “Workplace Hazards” was also submitted and can be found HERE on AO3.

Between Their Names by Sproings

What would a background check have turned up about Steven Grant Rogers?

Hopefully not the fact that Bucky could still remember the guy’s middle name. But certainly the fact that Steve and Bucky (and Jesus how their names still flowed together in his head) had spent three years living on the same street, going to the same school.

And now they were strangers.

AKA The one where Steve teaches a knitting class, and Bucky hides in a tree, and there’s a cat named Peepers

rated mature . 20k

Off The Record by Brenda

“This is a serious coup, James. Steve Rogers has never sat down with a member of the press and given an interview. Ever. Do you know how rare that is for the fourth-string star on a cable reality show, much less the biggest movie star in the world?”

rated explicit . 9k

Series: Reciprocity by osprey_archer

A series of fics that started in 2014 but ended in 2015. Starts with the fic Self-Abuse: 

“You want me to give you a handjob,” said Steve, because he was having trouble processing this. “You can’t take care of it yourself?”

“No.” Bucky sounded annoyed. “Self-abuse makes you go blind and grow hair on your palms.”

Of course one of the few things Bucky remembered from the thirties were anti-masturbation pamphlets.

rated teen - explicit . 162k

Thaw by I_Dont_KnowWhatImDoing

Even below the layers of armor and muscle, Steve feels the bite of the cold. It’s not quite as intense or racking as it used to be back when his body was thin and offered little to protect him from the elements, but it’s present and pulling and unpleasant. It’s high on his list of immediate concerns, though not for himself. The numbness brings him back to the last time he was in Russia, 70 years earlier. But that was back when Bucky had been watching his back, alert and dependable, not glued to his front and immobile as he is now.

He’s finally found the ghost he’s been chasing. The question now is how does he bring him home?

rated explicit . 10k

Venus in Vibranium by betty days (sadrobots)

“To be a Lead’s Support is a substantial responsibility,“ Natasha says. "You must be Agent Rogers’ personal assistant, bodyguard, chef, maid, best friend, boyfriend, and whatever else he wishes you to be.”

rated explicit . 58k

The Sun & The Star by greenbergsays

There is a way these things are done; this is not it.

Or the one where Steve belongs to the Winter Soldier.

rated teen . 2k

Slide To Answer by relenafanel

"What do I do?” Steve appealed into the phone. “I’m freaking out.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. It lasted so long that Steve pulled the receiver away from his ear and frowned at it. Pay phones were old. Maybe this one wasn’t working despite the obvious dial tone when he picked up.

“Ok,” a stranger’s voice said over the phone. “First acknowledge the fact that you dialed the wrong number, but be quick about it because my cab is a few blocks away from my own plans and I’m about to drop some truth bombs on you.”

rated teen . 6k


Originally posted by drunkbroadway

That’s it! It’s been a great year of amazing fics and I can’t wait until we are all overwhelmed with the feels and inspired to make even more Stucky fic in the coming new year and the release of Civil War. Huge kudos to the dedicated writers, many listed, and the thousands that aren’t - your fics have helped make 2015 a really good year. 

Happy New Years!

MASTERPOST of all Stucky recs and rec lists!


ps - if you submitted a fic and couldn’t find it on the list, I only listed those that were written in 2015 and that were completely finished. So all WIPs will need to wait until next years list! 

Like Hell - Tommy Shelby

Request: Can I request a TommyxReader where they’re married but she’s crazy protective over Tommy. She can kick ass and she ain’t scared of anyone. So scenario is Tommy’s doing business and it seems fishy and sure enough, something goes wrong while wifey is there. The second Tommy’s safety is jeopardized, she goes ape shit on everyone? Please and thank you!

Like Hell - Tommy Shelby

Before you married Tommy Shelby you lived in London. More specifically you lived with your grandfather and uncle, both men were gangsters in their own right. They were top rank in a gang of men who were ruthless and unforgiving. You grew up in that world, as a child you used to take money back and forth. The older you got the more responsibility they rested upon you until you were able to hold your own. Then you met Thomas Shelby, purely by accident.  

He had a meeting with your uncle and you had sat in. You had gone your entire life not being the slightest bit bothered with men. All the ones you met were demeaning, they saw a young woman who could take care of herself and felt the immediate need to try in put you in your place. That never sat well with you and so you had never tried to find someone worthy of loving. Until you met Tommy.  

Keep reading

Nothing At Stake - 6

[A/N: Okay I promised smut and I lied, but the next chapter is half written and that does have smut and you can expect it in a couple of hours! I hope you like the kind of direction this is heading in, I’m not 100% where it’s going to end up but I’ve got some of it mapped out and I feel like this could be a bit of a lengthy fic?

Also at the bottom of this fic I have tagged a few people who I recognise consistently like and reblog my fics so I hope you don’t mind and if you would like to be added to the tags or removed than you are more than welcome to say! Hope those who have been tagged don’t mind!]

Word Count: 1321

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Fictional Shmictional

Originally posted by admo36

Sequel to “The French Mispeight

Pairing: Gabriel x reader

Words: 1300+

Beta reader: @unsink-the-titanic

Your name: submit What is this?

Having your favourite fictional character as a roommate was both amazing and terrifying at the same time.

You loved Gabriel dearly, but something felt off. He wasn’t from your world, and it showed. Maybe in the way energy seemed to radiate off of him, maybe it was something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Either way, Gabriel just escaped the devil himself. You half expected a Mark Pellegrino clone to show up at your door, and that one wouldn’t be signing autographs.

But nobody came. About a week passed and it seemed that the world, the Supernatural world, truly believed Gabriel was dead.

Keep reading

3

Official #BlackoutDay Masterpost (Created: March 29, 2015. Updated: March 6th, 2017)

Welcome to the official #BlackoutDay / #TheBlackout Masterpost.

This post was originally hosted on WhatWhitesWillNeverKnow and is now on @theblackoutofficial.

In this post you’ll find the history of the movement, including important changes to the team and format, and FAQ. 

 Let’s get started…

(Click on “Read More” to read the full post)

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Love Triumphs Part 18: End of the Convention

Jared Padalecki x Reader

1150 Words

Story Summary: AU (I love Gen, and love her with Jared.) Jared and Gen have split up, but are still friendly. You, the Reader have recently started acting on Supernatural, and have fallen in love with Jared. Both of you get hate due to the fact that you are much younger than he is.

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

To say you were relieved that photos went well would be an understatement. Each fan, or group of fans were nice and courteous, even when asking for awkward, and sometimes the weirdest poses you had ever heard of.

Soon, you were once again in the green room, Jared and Jensen at your side as you took a little break before the two men went onto the stage for their panel. Relaxing against Jared’s chest, you watched as Jensen strummed his guitar.  "You’re really good at that.“ You told Jensen, feeling Jared stiffen a little behind you. "What? He is.”

Keep reading

Peed my Pants in a Haunted Maze!

Another accident I had that I wrote an account of for omo.org :) I hope you all like it.

———

Hi everyone! Its been a week or two, I’ve had a bit of a dry spell, likely due to the fact that midterms were going on and I’m a lot less playful and risky when I’m in work mode. Work and fun are two separate things for me, which isn’t to say I don’t enjoy working; I’m a working and writing machine! Anywho, I’ve finally been able to wind down and relax finally after what feels like however, in the last few days I’ve attended a few Halloween parties, a few Halloween events, marathoned bad horror movies for all nighters, and another in particular relating specifically to this forum: I had an accident.

Now if you’ve read my tale regarding my recent fable while playing a certain horror game you know two things: One, I love horror but don’t handle scares well, and two, I’m oh-so woefully stubborn. As is usually the case when I have an accident, the stubbornness of course comes into play. Allow me to give a bit of context..

There’s a local park a city or so away. Like a lot of places, it has a yearly Halloween attraction. Its very sizable; it is also used as a campground in the summertime. I have attended this event every year!

This year I went with a few of my friends (Same group from the apartment story), and we showed up early. Naturally there was a line already, and we still had 45 minutes before the event would start and the line started moving up…The line ended up being very large in total, the event was very popular. We had all been picked up at our houses, and most of us had overnight bags in the trunk, as we were going back to one of their places to marathon horror movies for the rest of the night. In the hour before we arrived I had drunk a monster and a hard lemonade, though I didn’t really think anything of it until I polished off a 1 liter pepsi from the concession stand halfway through the line.

Description phase! By now you most likely have a general idea of my appearance, for newcomers I’ve got long black hair, am pale enough to fit into the cast of twilight which I am ashamed of, unhealthy tiny at 116 pounds last weigh-in, at 5'8-5'9. To try and turn my pitiful bodily state into a point of attraction, I try to maintain care of my face with various face washes, and creative use of eyeliner. If people are going to think I’m anorexic or something, I might as well look semi-pretty in the process I figure. But enough of that. Tonight I was wearing a pretty dark blue jeans, you could think they were black if you didn’t see them in the light. Very tight too. Black tank top, black zipped hoodie for the brisk October weather, along with a nice blue bra/panty combo. With this outfit I usually wear 2 earrings, a gold moon and a star, but as I might end up running for my life I left those out this time.

So again, we were in line, and as aforementioned halfway up there was a food stand. I got a hot dog and a 1 litre pepsi, and those were gone pretty fast I will say. Now see at this point I hadn’t used the bathroom in a few hours easily, but I didn’t even think about that until all the drinks from the past little while had caught up. By the time we were ¾ of the way up the line I was squirming and inwardly groaning from the typical this-is-the-worst-time-to-need-to-pee realization. I resolved to hold it because again, I’m stubborn, and I didn’t want to lose my place in line next to my friends. I realize I probably would have been let back into my spot, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

We slowly moved up in line, and my need to go slowly got worse, but I didn’t really plan to budge. It was almost an exciting feeling, but as per usual I didn’t really put enough thought into potential consequences. Its something I really need to work on. Anywho, I had my hands stuffed in my pockets and my legs crossed and I’d bounce a little every now and again. At one point Kate asked me what was up and I started bitching about the cold. We got to the end of the line up and it was our group, and another few girls, like 3 others I think for the next go around. I think they let another set of people in every 5 minutes or so.

We got in and I really had to go, but I figured should I stay on my toes I could hold it until the end no problem.

First we went down the trail, pretty spooky. Torches and bridges, people in costumes…I tried to stay relatively quiet and blend in with my friends. One of my friends is a screamer, and the screamers make themselves targets. So I let her take the brunt of the people jumping out of the woodwork as it were. It was all really cool, and went really smoothly for me until the little house filled with zombies. It was wide open, and had a whole strobe light thing going on. One was waiting around the corner of the entrance door and spooked the group with a lunge. Everyone, including me, scattered. Everyone took off, zig zagging through the would-be zombies, through the large barn-like structure, until people found the way out. My luck started to run out around here.

I found the door and escaped. I was alone. I had figured everyone else had gone on ahead. I took a moment to lean against the outside of the house/barn/thing and hold myself, placing my hand between my legs and holding my legs together long enough to take the edge off, and continued on down the trail. I would later find out, as my luck would have it, that I was actually the FIRST out. And not only that, after I had gone off down the trail, everyone else would get out and proceed to head in the wrong direction. The lot of em had to be redirected back onto the trail by a supervisor and the like. I mean…I went in the direction that had a torch on a tree. I thought it was obvious, myself.

Now all of a sudden, I was target number 1. There was actors dressed as ghouls constantly lurking about, being creepy, saying creepy shit, or jumpscaring me. Some of them were really creative, and I loved the costumes, gotta give em props. I tried to play it cool, waving to them and being like “Hi, hows life?”, and just being chill, even though I very obviously wasn’t chill, given the fast walk I had going. My first minor leakage came at the hands of a guy who was hanging. I don’t know how he was alive, or how the engineered it, but the guy hanging from the noose was a living dude. He was legit hanging. Maybe invisible wires or something. Anyway I assumed he was a prop for obvious reasons, and of course he lunged and yelled. I let out a tiny shriek, and felt myself dribble into my underwear. I ran off cursing under my breath.

Eventually I came to another house, larger than the last one. It looked incredibly dark inside. I knew that was probably the gimmick, and walked in. I discovered it was very narrow with winding hallways, in what was basically pitch black darkness. My shaking legs carrying me and my aching bladder, I soldiered on. About a minute in I heard a voice behind me. “Hello? Is anybody there?” She called out a few names I didn’t recognize, but I called out anyway. I waited for this girl to catch up, and she latched onto my arm and told me she lost her friends and was gonna tag along with me. I replied that I was grateful for the company, and I continued on with this girl on my arm. Making nervous and frightened small talk, we continued our way through the winding pitch black maze. Things were going well until a hand came out of a hole in the wall and grabbed my other arm. I let out a sharp noise I can’t really describe, and the other girl shrieked as well, I had assumed in reaction to me. It was simultaneous to the noise I made that I realized I was spurting into my pants. I yanked my hand away from the wall presence and shoved it between my legs, quickly feeling my pee leaving my bladder, saturating my pants and beginning to tickle my inner thighs. I panted, with each pant accentuated with a small alarmed moan, I clenched just about every muscle in my lower body to regain control. The girl, who in the dark has no idea what was happening, questioned if I was alright as I quickly checked relevant areas for dampness, trying to assess how visible any damage might be. I didn’t think it was too bad, the pants being dark and all, and horror trails tending to lack in the light department. My nether regions were certainly damp and I no doubt had a wet patch, but I clenched quickly enough to cease a dangerous spread. I reassured the girl and we continued. At some point I unzipped my hoodie, as the air in the structure was fairly heavy.

Eventually, I could see the glow of an exit, and became excited. The trail wasn’t over, but at least I’d be able to see again. We crept up the incline leading to it, and I exclaimed “Its a good thing to be finally free eh?” to which my companion replied  "Boy, it sure is!“

I will never forget the next moment for the rest of my life.

Something in the way she said that was almost mocking, and I turned to face her, who was still clinging onto my arm and had her head on my shoulder. My escort, who I had presumed to be one of the three other girls who wasn’t part of my friend group, was wearing a tattered white, almost hospitalish gown, and in addition to appearing to be rotted, also appeared to be missing part of her jaw. This really wasn’t the time to get an eyeful of the amazing makeup work done at such close proximity. I think I stood there for a moment with my eyes and face just widening in absolute realization and comprehending terror. I assume she had been near the house and seen I was alone. I gotta give it to the crafty bitch, that was one of the most clever things I’ve ever seen, and I’ve never screamed so loud in my entire life.

I sprinted up, barreling out of the exit door. I tripped, scrambled to my feet, and has my luck would have it, on my way upright I went face first into another chick. Also rotted looking. Wielding a now revving chainsaw. I could hear my evil escort from earlier cackling like mad as a I fell back onto the ground, staring at the chainsaw wielding nurse. I think it was a nurse. Don’t quote me on that. I screamed again as she darted forward with the chainsaw which more than likely had no chain on it, holding it above me. I was screaming, and I then realized, also wetting my pants. I have no idea when it started, probably somewhere around my stumble out of the house, or even my initial scream. All I knew was, I was suddenly wet, and there was a vibrating hiss accompanied by a spreading warmth. Chainsaw lady looked to the sky, laughing and waving the saw around as I attempted to grab myself, pushing my hand and pants into my crotch, resulting in a loud PSSSSSHHHHHH. I could feel my ass becoming absolutely soaked, and I could see the puddle forming underneath me when I looked down. I realized Saw Girl wasn’t looking, and I shot up and took off like a dart, deftly kicking my foot back over my puddle, hopefully covering it. I sure wasn’t sticking around to find out. I ran, and ran around the corner of the trail, spurts of urine shooting out every step. I went off the trail the moment I knew I was out of the sight of ghouls which was pretty quick.

In the relative darkness I leaned against a tree, on the opposite side of said tree where I wouldn’t be seen from the trail. My bladder was panging, as if to say "No” is not an option right now. I could feel my control slipping again, but I couldn’t let that happen! This wasn’t really a situation or attire I could afford a full on accident. I shoved my hands down there again and started frantically crossing my legs, uncrossing, bouncing, moaning and gasping, you name it. I had to get my pants down or something, but as I pulled one hand out and tried to unhook my button, I started peeing my pants again. The hissing returned, and as much as I struggled and whined and frantically tried and failed to open my fly after unhooking the button, it started streaming down my legs.

My ass was becoming soaked, and I could feel the warm trails flowing on my previously relatively untouched legs, dripping onto the autumn leaves underneath me. I moaned loudly as the stream intensified, leaving no part of the backside of my pants, from the cuffs of my legs to the seam of my ass unsoaked.

I tried so hard to stop the flow, finally getting my pants completely undone I shoved a hand into my panties to try and block my pee-hole. Didn’t work out too well…When I leaned over from the strain of the stream and the effort of trying to stop it, the position of my hand redirected the flow frontwards, and now the front of my jeans were becoming even darker than their natural dark blue color; the resounding pssssh of my pee soaking the front of my legs and knees echoing through the forest with the sounds of distant screams. I whined, strained, moaned, criss crossed, my usual dance. But even I knew it was over, as my last move ensured no part of me was getting away unsoaked by the shame of my failing bladder.

My stream slowed to a crawl as my bladder finished emptying. I was in a bit of a pickle now. I finished the trail with a few more screams, staying as far away from light sources as I could. My pants were dark enough that you probably couldn’t tell the difference if I wasn’t next to a torch or light….But given they were certainly over-saturated, even the faintest source of light might have caught a glisten, being drenched and all. I sure hope not.

When I finished the trail, I was informed I was the first out of my group out due to a wrong turn made by others, and that’s when it hit me I had a slight chance to make it out unscathed. I rushed to the parking lot using the same tactics as in the trail, avoiding light like I was a vampire in Florida. The only time I went directly into the light was to rush straight to the car. I had the key, so I managed to pop the trunk and grab my overnight bag. I also grabbed a plastic bag and took off into a porta-potty. I quickly changed out of my pants, panties, and socks, and through on a pair of white undies and a pair of sweats. To seem less suspicious, I also changed from my tank top into a jammie T-shirt I wear. I tossed the wet stuff in a plastic bag, and then the plastic bag into my overnight bag. I then proceeded to wait by the car. Eventually they came back, laughing and giggling, getting the jitters out. Kate immediately noticed my change in attire and yelled “Oi (INSERT MY NAME HERE), you piss your fucking pants?”, laughing and obviously joking around, which got an equally jokey reply in “Nah man, those jeans make my ass look fucking fantastic and all, but too tight and I wanna hit up the comfort game early. Look at the goddamn indent from the button!” I accentuated this by lifting my shirt to show the crater where the button had been digging into my tummy. Continually laughing and carrying on, we went back to Tanya’s place and marathon-ed classic horror movies for the night (Return of the Living Dead is a classic for me.)

As always I hope you enjoyed my tale! Feel free to comment, shoot your thoughts my way, or fire a message at me. Love you all, have a lovely Halloween!~ <3