Magnets & Metal Detectors

master list

[metalarmproblems]

May I pls be tagged in astronomy in reverse???

Yes, of course! I’ve added you to the list.

I apologize that it took me so long to respond. The internet service at my house has made Tumblr borderline unusable. I’m trying not to completely disappear (although I fear I have).

[metalarmproblems]

hey! can i be tagged in “astronomy in reverse” ?

Yes, of course!

Now to actually get back to writing in the near future…

[bioticgoddess]

I too would like to be tagged in that story please. :)

[metalarmproblems]

I will add you!

[metalarmproblems]

hey! can i be tagged in “astronomy in reverse” ?

Yes, of course!

Now to actually get back to writing in the near future…

[metalarmproblems]

Oh my god, I just found your master list and I’m making my way through it and it’s amazing so far! Can you tag me in literally anything you write to do with Bucky and Steve? I just finished The Guardian and I’m obsessed!

Thank you so much! I’d be happy to tag you. I apologize in advance for how slowly I update.

[metalarmproblems]

Can I please get added to The Guardian tag list? Or just all your Sebastian works? They're honestly amazing💕💕

Of course! I will add you to my Bucky list. ♥️ Thank you so much for your kind words!

Sorry for the delay in response. I must have missed the notification.

[metalarmproblems]

Could you do a series where the reader can shape shift into a night fury and hydra wants her and she is dating Bucky

I’m going to ask a dumb question: are night furies the dragons from How to Train Your Dragon? I’m not saying no, because I’ve honestly written love stories about shapeshifting dragons and humans before (it just wasn’t fan fiction). I just honestly don’t know. I should probably watch those movies anyway (I have only seen the first one) since my ancestors were Vikings.

[metalarmproblems]

Just wanna say that your username + blog title combo is HILARIOUS

Thank you! I thought I was the only one who found it funny.

[metalarmproblems]

I love your Interlude series! I love reading things about Bucky’s time in Bucharest. Such good writing, and I can’t wait to read more!

Thank you so much! That will probably be the next one I work on. I prioritize stories based on both my own personal inspiration at the moment and reader response!

[metalarmproblems]

The Guardian - Part Four

Preview / Part One / Part Two / Part Three

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: None (this time)

Word Count: 1,095

At breakfast, Ida and Hazel were their usual talkative selves. During the course of the meal, clouds began to gather in the sky, and it became clear that your museum visit would have to be forsaken for a trip home to gather your umbrella and change shoes before you met up with Peggy. Rain usually didn’t stop your walks, although Peggy would always put her foot down if thunder began to roll.

When the bill was delivered to your table, you quickly picked it up before pulling out the appropriate amount and handing it to the waiter.

“You don’t have to do that,” Ida said, which was her usual protest when anyone else was paying the bill.

“We take turns,” you reminded her, “and today is mine.”

“Well thank you,” she conceded, “Where are you off to now? Hopefully somewhere indoors. It looks like weather is moving in.”

You nodded as the three of you stood and scooted your chairs back in.

“I’m just heading home.”

You left out the part about going back out to meet with Peggy, because you knew Ida or Hazel would protest even the thought of spending any amount of time in the rain, even if you had a sturdy umbrella and sensible rain boots.

After saying your goodbyes, you parted ways with Ida and Hazel and began your short trek home. As the sky was growing darker, you started to plan out your arguments to Peggy in favor of walking despite the weather. Unfortunately, you were also well aware that these arguments most likely wouldn’t withstand Peggy’s scrutiny.

You were wrapped up in your own thoughts when you entered your apartment, but the sight in front of you once you locked the door and turned around stopped you dead in your tracks.

It was James.

Only it couldn’t be James.

This was it. Your mind finally broke. You were officially hallucinating. However, you reasoned quickly, if you had to be hallucinating, having James back wasn’t the worst way to lose your grip on reality. What you couldn’t figure out is why he looked so different. If he was a hallucination, shouldn’t he have been a recreation from your own memories?

When he stood from your writing desk chair, you stumbled back against the door. He seemed too real to be a hallucination as he slowly approached.

He said your name in a way that sounded more like a question.

His uncertainty was disconcerting. You were also more than a little concerned about his appearance. How many guns could one attach to their own body? Why would someone need so many of them, anyway? Why was he wearing something metal over his left arm?

You had a sinking feeling in your chest that this wasn’t James until he stepped close enough for you to see the small scar on his right cheekbone. It was an exact match to the scar he had gotten teaching some of the neighborhood kids how to play stickball. Not all of them remembered to check their surroundings before swinging the stick, but James had been patient and calm in spite of the pain he felt. His main concern was to calm the child, who was terrified that he was going to be in trouble with his parents.

Your mind grappled with everything that was happening. There was no way this could be James, and yet there was no way that this couldn’t be James. “H-How?” you stuttered out, flinching when he reached out to touch you.

His warm hand, the one that was uncovered, cradled your cheek gently. It was as if he was afraid that he would break you.

“I don’t know,” he responded, and it felt like it was an honest answer. “I don’t understand what happened...what is happening.”

“Steve told me you...that you…” you struggled to say the words, but they wouldn’t form correctly on your lips.

It seemed to be a flicker of recognition at the mention of Steve’s name, and James slowly moved his hand down to rest on your waist.

“Do you want to sit?” he asked.

You nodded dumbly, still at a loss for words.

He guided you into a chair at the small table in the kitchen, which was closest to where you had been standing. After you were seated, he settled into the chair next to you, though he was considerate to allow you some space while you adjusted to the situation. In truth, he was struggling to wrap his mind around anything that was happening to him, but his conditioning was enough to allow him to at least appear to remain cool and in control.

There was an awkward silence that followed, and you suddenly pushed yourself back to your feet. Having something to do with your hands always helped you channel some of your nervous and negative energy, so that was exactly what you would do.

“Do you want tea or coffee?” you asked, already picking up your kettle and filling it with water from the tap.

The question seemed to catch James off-guard, but he agreed to a cup of tea. He stood, still moving somewhat slowly in an effort to seem less threatening, though the guns he had strapped everywhere were really throwing that non-threatening image out the window for you.

You watched as he went straight to the cabinet that housed the teacups and brought two from your favorite set down, setting them on the table.

Once the kettle was on the stove and the burner below it was ignited, you turned around, leaning against the counter and studying James again.

“Where have you been?” you finally blurted out, unwanted tears welling in your eyes as the wall you had constructed around any emotional reaction came crashing down. “Why did you leave me?”

A pained expression crossed James’s face as he seemed to search for the right words to say.

“Was there someone else? Did I do something wrong?” you continued in the silence that followed your other questions.

“No,” he said as soon as the questions left your lips, forgetting his efforts to seem non-threatening and swiftly closing the space between you. “I can’t...I can’t explain everything, but let me try to explain what I can. Maybe you can fill in some gaps for me in return?”

You hesitated, taking in every minute detail of his face that was now less than a foot away from yours. After a pause that felt like an eternity to him, you gave him a small nod and a whispered, “Okay.”

Tags: @melconnor2007 @lroa46 @polkadottedpillowcase @marvelgoateecollection @partypoison @hisredhenley @themcuhasruinedme @doublestufthoreo @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @axelinchen @saharzek @rashinyx2002 @parsleyqueen-yeet

[metalarmproblems]

The Guardian - Part Three

Preview / Part One / Part Two

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Death, Sorrow

Word Count: 1,013

In the morning, dragging yourself out of bed had gone from the hardest part of the day to become the easiest part of your day. Memories of soft lips and a firm, secure grip that were both no longer present could quickly drag your mind to dark places. Wasting your day feeling sorry for yourself was not on your agenda.

You had promised Ida and Hazel that you would meet up with them for a late breakfast, and you were hoping to have enough time to visit the museum before heading to the park to walk with Peggy. Admittedly, you weren’t living the most exciting life, but you were grateful for the people you had left.

After straightening the covers on the bed, you walked to the window and opened the curtain, standing for a moment in the warm light of the early morning sun. Outside, some of the neighborhood children were horsing around with each other on their way to school. One of them, a rail-thin boy that was a good six inches shorter than the others, was thrown off-balance by one of the others and fell onto the pavement in a swift motion that made you wince sympathetically. As the other children either kept moving toward school or stood awkwardly near the fallen boy, one of the larger boys stepped in and helped him up. You couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto your lips as you left the window to get ready for the day.

——

The Winter Soldier kept watch across from the woman’s apartment building throughout the night and into the morning hours. He would wait as long as it took for her to exit and allow him a chance to investigate. One way or another, he would find out who she really was.

It wasn’t until a few minutes before ten thirty that the woman finally left her apartment. The Winter Soldier waited until she disappeared around the corner and no other prying eyes seemed to be present. He briskly crossed the street and strode to her door, making quick work of the lock and slipping inside.

The apartment itself was kept tidy; it was clear from the state of it that she was the only one living there. He stepped closer to the mantle over the small fireplace and looked at the framed photos that were placed across the wood. There was a photograph of the woman with an older version of herself, who must have been her mother. The next photograph was one that made his blood turn cold: the woman stood in a wedding dress next to a beaming man in a neat suit.

The man was the problem in the photo; the man had the Winter Soldier’s face. His eyes darted to the man’s left hand, but it was clearly flesh and not machine. He looked to the other photos lining the mantle, and the man was almost in every one of them. Other than his left arm being made of apparent flesh and bone, he was identical to the Winter Soldier in every way. They even shared the same small scar on their right cheekbone, though the Winter Soldier could not remember where the scar came from.

Flashes of images crowded into his mind, fleeting thoughts that felt more like memories, but they refused to solidify enough for him to concentrate on. He moved away from the mantle. His feet carried him as far away from it as he could get and he settled his broad frame into the chair of a small writing desk nestled against a window frame.

He sat still for a few moments, forcing his breath to slow and his heart to return to its normal pace. There must be a logical explanation, but all that he could come up with was that he and the man in the photographs were the same person. How could that be? He had no memory of his life before the facility that held him. He was created to be a weapon, to help move the world forward and suppress evil. It had been his understanding that he had not been born in a traditional sense, but could that be wrong?

A garbage truck rumbled down the street, breaking the Winter Soldier’s thoughts and drawing his attention to the window. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a neat stack of papers tied with ribbon on the corner of the desk. The papers looked worn and so did the ribbon, as if someone handled them frequently.

He reached out and moved the stack in front of him on the desk, carefully untying the ribbon and setting it to the side. The papers it had kept together were handwritten letters. The dates on the top of the pages indicated that they were written during World War II, before the Winter Soldier’s time.

The names at the top must have been the woman’s and her husband’s, James. Something about the name pulled at the back of the Winter Soldier’s mind. He knew that he was at a turning point: he could tie the letters back into their bundle neatly and leave them and the woman behind, returning to his assigned objective, or he could read them. If his suspicions were true, he knew the turning point might be one of no return.

He picked up the ribbon, tying it in an identical bow to the one it had previously been knotted into. As he stood, he returned the chair to its exact spot on the floor it had been in when he entered the apartment. On his way out the door, he paused. Almost involuntarily, he was suddenly back in front of the mantle, staring at a photograph of James and his wife, sitting on the same park bench the woman sat at each day and smiling in the afternoon sun.

Something inside of the Winter Soldier shifted, and he returned to the writing desk chair, removed the ribbon for the second time from the bundle of letters, and began reading.

Tags: @melconnor2007 @lroa46 @polkadottedpillowcase @marvelgoateecollection @partypoison @hisredhenley @themcuhasruinedme @buckyappreciationsociety @axelinchen @saharzek

[metalarmproblems]

Halfway through Part Four. I’m hoping to finish and post it today. The reader will finally see the Winter Soldier.

[metalarmproblems]

May be I tagged in anything Bucky related?? ❤️❤️

Of course! I’ve added you to my Bucky-only list.

[metalarmproblems]

Tag Game

I was tagged by @marveloussupernatural - I’m honestly flattered!

Sign: Capricorn

Height: 5′

Time: 2:48 p.m.

Birthday: January 5th

Average Hours of Sleep: 7-8...I usually pass out if I try to “stay up late.”

Lucky Number: 6

Relationship status: Single

Favorite color: I like the cool colors: blue, green, and purple.

Lipstick or chapstick: Specifically, I’m in love with Hurraw’s Moon Balm.

Song Stuck In My Head: “The Test” by The Academy Is...

What Did I Last Google: “transgender flags” - I am making/donating a basket to a trivia night my friend is putting together for a group called Transparent. It’s coffee-themed (the basket), so I’m making some custom mugs for it. I wanted to make sure to get the colors right.

Last thing I ate: A plain bagel from St. Louis Bread Company (aka Panera) and some Earth Balance spread

Last movie I watched: The Only Living Boy in New York

Last Show I Watched: The Good Place

Top 3 TV Shows: Game of Thrones, American Gods, Westworld (I don’t have actual TV service.)

Last books I read: I’m working my way through Dante’s Inferno with my students right now. The last book I finished was Captain America: No Escape by Ed Brubaker.

Hogwarts house: Hufflepuff, no matter how many quizzes tell me I’m a Ravenclaw.

What Do I Post: Bucky Barnes fan fiction, mostly.

When Did I Create This Blog: Uh…*shrug*

Other Blogs: I can barely accomplish anything with this one.

Do I Get Asks: Not usually, but I love it when I do.

Following: Mostly either Bucky-related blogs or people I think are interesting.

Followers: Currently 763, and I’m not really sure what they see in me.

Rules: Tag 9 people you want to know better or just because you feel like it ~ no pressure to do it.

I’m not tagging anyone because I’m not sure if anyone would really care to do this because I tagged them...if it looks fun, please participate and tag me so I can read it.

[metalarmproblems]

I read the first 6 parts of Interlude. I LOVE it. May I please be tagged?!

I will add you to the list! I LOVE your username.

[metalarmproblems]

Master List

The Asset (Finished)

Bucky’s past contains a lot of things to be guilty about, and one of the heaviest weights on his soul is his role in the death of a young girl during his days as the Winter Soldier. In the present day, he will come face to face with his past and a shot at possible redemption.

Prologue / Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Epilogue

Astronomy in Reverse

College!AU Bucky Barnes. Bucky is a veteran who decided to go to school after finishing his service. He is studying Astronautics and wants to work for NASA after graduation. The reader has been through some rough things of her own, and the two find comfort in each other. The title comes from the song “Venus” by Sleeping at Last.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

Interlude

Bucky takes work at a bakery in Bucharest to make ends meet while he tries to pull himself together. It takes place between the events of The Winter Soldier and Civil War movies in the MCU.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six

зима  (Winter)

AU!Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier is a member of the Vesna, a splinter rebel group in the country where your family rules. The main rebel forces take drastic measures, and the Vesna task the Winter Soldier with protecting you from the rebellion.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

Burn/It’s Quiet Uptown (Finished)

This two-part set takes place during WWII. It focuses on Bucky’s wife (the reader) and her life stateside while he is at war. The titles are from the “Hamilton” song titles that served as loose inspiration.

Burn / It’s Quiet Uptown

The Guardian

This series takes place after the events of Burn/It’s Quiet Uptown. Bucky is now the Winter Soldier, and the reader is still grieving the life they lost together. When they cross paths, the Winter Soldier’s programming begins breaking down.

Preview / Part One / Part Two / Part Three

Birthday Cake - Steve Rogers

A one-shot story about a certain super soldier trying to surprise his girlfriend for her birthday. Note: This story is Steve Rogers x Reader instead of my usual Bucky Barnes x Reader. It was written as a gift to my friend.

Birthday Cake

Coffee Shop - Sam Wilson

A one-shot story in response to an anon request. Sam Wilson loves his local barista. Since this was a request, it doesn’t actually have a title.

Coffee Shop

[metalarmproblems]

I want to get some writing done at some point in the next few days, but I’m not sure which story I want to work on. Any requests?

[metalarmproblems]

May I be tagged in everything Bucky?

Of course! I’ve added you to my list.

[metalarmproblems]

I just wanted to say I’m loving interlude and how you’re writing Bucky and reader! Could I be tagged please?

Yes, of course! I’m so glad you’re enjoying it. ♥️

[metalarmproblems]

Interlude - Part Six

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

Summary: Bucky takes work at a bakery in Bucharest to make ends meet while he tries to pull himself together. It takes place between the events of The Winter Soldier and Civil War movies in the MCU.

Word Count: 1,132

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: There will be cursing at some point, I’m sure. Also, I’m a fan of Bucky in the comics. Sometimes things mush together in my head.

Night had fallen over Old Town as you walked with Bucky to one of your favorite restaurants in the city. It was a cozy café tucked in between a couple of bars, and on weekend nights, it was the calm eye of the storm of the exuberant partygoers that descended upon the street.

In your opinion, the food that the café served was well worth navigating the chaos to get there, but you did try to normally visit during the week when you could. You had never brought a date here; honestly, you didn’t date very often.

Putting yourself out there to get hurt wasn’t something that ever appealed to you. Any possible benefit didn’t seem worth the probable outcome. You weren’t sure that love was ever going to be in the cards for you, and you had almost made peace with that. Bucky coming into the bakery changed everything. It felt like he was worth the risk.

“We’re almost there,” you said as the two of you rounded the last corner before reaching the café.

When you looked up at Bucky, it was clear that he was tense. The thought that maybe he wouldn’t enjoy the café you picked bulldozed into your mind and took root there. He didn’t even seem to register that you just spoke to him.

Your mind raced, trying to avoid all thoughts of this night quickly tanking into disaster, but they seemed to be the only thoughts crowding into your brain. The idea of taking his hand pushed its way to the forefront of your thoughts. Of course, there was a chance he would recoil or otherwise reject the gesture, but what if he didn’t? What if he held back? If the night was already very likely going down in flames, was the risk really that great?

Taking a deep breath, you went for it. Your hand gently nudged its way against his palm. To your genuine surprise, he quickly swept his fingers into the gaps between yours and held on firmly.

You gently tugged him along as you closed the distance to the café. With his free hand, Bucky reached around you and opened the door, holding it open. Once you were inside, he followed close behind. His hand never left yours as he scanned the small room.

Inside, it was much quieter. The rowdy bar crawlers outside were nothing but a dull hum once the doors closed. Patrons spoke to each other in lowered voices, possibly due to the influence of the shelves of books that lined the walls. It gave the café the ambiance of a well-loved library. It was the reason you loved coming here.

A hostess quickly escorted you and Bucky to your table. You sat across from him, settling in with your belongings before looking up at him. Instead of studying his surroundings as usual, his eyes were on you. Mixed feelings of warmth and exposure tangled in your chest, but it was not a completely unpleasant sensation.

Unfortunately, the silence between you began to stretch into an uncomfortable length. Bucky cleared his throat, but he seemed to be struggling for something to say just as much as you were. Perhaps the date had not been a good idea after all. You glanced down at your hands as you nervously began to twist the napkin in front of you.

“Hey.” Bucky’s voice was soft, but it had enough volume to draw your attention back up to his face. “I’m glad we came here. The smell is…”

“Comforting?” you interjected before he could finish, and he laughed in response. It was a low, warm sound that you suddenly wished you could hear more often.

“I was going to say oddly familiar, but comforting works too. Do they allow you to actually borrow the books?”

“Not exactly. You’re allowed to read as much as you want while you’re here, but they don’t allow you to take books out of the café.”

Bucky nodded, looking around at the sheer number of texts that lined the shelves before returning his gaze to you.

“Be honest. How many have you read?” A smile had crept onto his lips as if he were asking you to share a scandalous secret.

“Well…” you began, leaning in slightly as he did the same. “I’m working my way through the collection. I keep a list in my phone of the books as I read them.”

“Do they have any Bukowski here?”

It was your turn to smile. You nodded, standing up from your seat.

“Give me a minute.”

You left the table and quickly crossed the café to a shelf near the kitchen entrance that was home to their volumes of poetry. A quick scan of the shelves brought you to a Bukowski title, which you grabbed and returned with to the table.

“I want to hear you read some of your favorites this time. Will you?” Bucky requested.

You nodded as the server came over to take your order. Within a few minutes, your orders were placed and you were beginning to scan through the Bukowski collection in your hands. Before you began to read the first poem that you settled on, you paused and looked up at Bucky.

“Is this weird? I mean, for a date?” you questioned, suddenly self-conscious.

“I haven’t been on a lot of dates,” Bucky said, “but so far, this is my favorite.”

You could feel a flush rising to your cheeks, so you swiftly returned your attention to the poem in front of you. Bucky listened intently as you carefully and quietly read it to him, doing your best to give what you believed the intended emotion was for each word and phrase.

By the time your order came, you had already read three poems to Bucky. After each one, he seemed eager to discuss its contents with you. He promised that after the meal, you could trade and he would read a few to you.

By the time the café was closing up for the night, you and Bucky had read and discussed poetry, shared a meal, and moved on to talking about your lives at the bakery. Any time the discussion moved dangerously close to his past, he grew uncomfortable, and for the time being, you were okay to let the topic go.

Bucky walked you home, pausing at your door and giving your hand a slight tug. When you looked up at him, his right hand raised to gently hold the side of your neck and his lips found yours for a kiss that made your heart skip a beat.

“Can we do this more often?” he asked quietly, your lips barely apart from his.

“Yes,” you breathed in response, letting your lips fall back into place against his.

Tags: @partypoison @hisredhenley @themcuhasruinedme @doublestufthoreo @buckyappreciationsociety @armpratt @melconnor2007 @psychicwitchphilosopher @axelinchen @saharzek @this-is-not-to-my-taste @sub-miss-me @mariah-notcarey17 @cassandras-musings @instantstudentnachosworld