and he's always affectionate even in front of others
and he would do ANYTHING for her, literally anything and maybe they're talking abt it and then he proves it in different occasions
Bucky’s always been intense—it’s just that now all of it is aimed at you.
It’s obvious to everyone but him.
The first time Sam notices, it’s something small. You’re sitting at the kitchen island in the Tower, scrolling on your phone, legs swinging absentmindedly off the stool. Bucky’s standing behind you, mid-conversation with Steve, but his hand never leaves you—broad palm spread over your thigh, thumb dragging slow, distracted strokes like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Every few seconds, he squeezes, grounding himself in you.
“Buck,” Sam says, eyebrow raised. “You know she’s not gonna disappear if you let go for five minutes, right?”
Bucky frowns like that’s the dumbest thing he’s ever heard. “Why would I let go?”
You snort softly, not even looking up. You’re used to it—used to him always touching you, always orbiting you like you’re the center of his gravity. His hand slides higher, fingertips pressing just beneath the hem of your shorts, and he leans down, brushing his mouth against your temple without breaking eye contact with Sam.
“See?” Sam mutters to Steve. “Sickening.”
Steve just shrugs, smiling into his coffee. “Let him be. He’s happy.”
Happy doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Bucky is gone for you.
It shows up in little things first—like the way he automatically reaches for your hand when you walk anywhere together, fingers lacing tight, like he needs the contact. The way he always sits you on his lap instead of beside him, no matter who’s around. The way he kisses you hello like he hasn’t seen you in weeks, even if you were in the next room five minutes ago.
But it’s more than that.
It’s the way he watches you.
Like you hung the damn moon.
“You’re staring again,” you murmur one night, curled up on the couch with him, your legs draped across his lap.
Bucky hums, unashamed, eyes tracing your face like he’s committing every inch to memory. “Yeah.”
“Why?” you tease, tilting your head.
He shrugs, but his hand slides up your calf, slow and deliberate, fingers squeezing gently. “’Cause I like looking at you.”
Your cheeks warm, but you don’t look away. “You always like looking at me.”
“Yeah,” he repeats, softer this time, like it means something deeper. “Always.”
And he does.
God, he does.
So when the conversation happens, it’s not exactly surprising—but it still hits you right in the chest.
You’re lying in bed, half asleep, tracing lazy patterns over the skin of his chest while he plays with your hair, gently untangling strands between his fingers.
“You know,” you mumble, voice thick with sleep, “you’re kind of ridiculous.”
Bucky huffs a quiet laugh. “Yeah? How’s that?”
“You’d do anything for me,” you say, like it’s a fact. “It’s… a lot.”
There’s no judgment in your tone, just soft wonder. But Bucky still goes still beneath you.
“Yeah,” he says after a beat. “I would.”
You prop your chin on his chest, peering up at him. “Anything?”
His gaze drops to you instantly, intense and steady, like the answer is carved into him.
“Anything,” he repeats.
You study him for a second, searching for hesitation, for doubt—there isn’t any. Just that unwavering certainty that’s so uniquely him it makes your chest ache.
“You’re serious,” you whisper.
Bucky’s thumb brushes over your cheek, slow and reverent. “You ask me for something, I’m giving it to you. No questions.”
You smile a little, teasing again to lighten the weight of it. “That’s dangerous, Barnes.”
“Not for you,” he murmurs.
You don’t realize how literal he is until later.
---
The first time he proves it, it’s stupid.
You mention, offhandedly, that you’ve been craving this specific dessert from a bakery across the city—something you haven’t had in years. It’s late, past midnight, and you’re already half asleep when you say it, voice drowsy and unfocused.
“Miss those little chocolate things,” you mumble into his shoulder. “With the caramel… remember?”
Bucky hums, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Yeah, I remember.”
You forget about it.
Of course you do.
Until you wake up a couple hours later, cold and alone in bed.
Panic flares for half a second—until you hear the front door click open.
You sit up, blinking in the dim light, just as Bucky walks in, hair tousled, jacket thrown over a t-shirt, a small paper box in his hand.
“Hey,” he says softly, like this is normal.
You stare at him. “Where did you go?”
He sets the box on the nightstand, opening it carefully. Inside are the exact pastries you mentioned—perfect, untouched, like he hand-delivered a memory.
“You said you wanted these,” he shrugs.
“Bucky,” you breathe, stunned. “It’s two in the morning.”
“Yeah.”
“You drove across the city—for dessert?”
His brow furrows, confused by your tone, like he doesn’t understand why this is surprising. “You wanted it.”
Something in your chest twists, tight and overwhelming.
“That’s not the point,” you whisper.
He pauses, studying your face, and then his expression softens when he sees it—how much it means to you.
“Oh,” he murmurs.
Your eyes sting a little as you reach for him, pulling him down into the bed, your hands cupping his face. “You’re insane.”
“Yeah,” he breathes against your lips, smiling faintly. “But you got your pastries.”
You kiss him, slow and deep, tasting the night air on his mouth.
---
The second time isn’t small.
It’s a mission gone sideways, a situation that escalates too fast, too dangerously. You’re pinned down, separated from the team, comm crackling with static.
“Bucky, don’t—” you start, trying to warn him, trying to keep him back.
But he’s already moving.
“Hold on,” he growls into the comm, voice sharp and unyielding. “I’m coming.”
“Bucky, it’s not safe—”
“Don’t care,” he snaps.
And he doesn’t.
Not when it comes to you.
He cuts through everything in his path—soldiers, debris, chaos—like it’s nothing, like the only thing that exists is getting to you. When he finally reaches you, dropping to his knees in front of you, hands immediately on your face, your shoulders, checking for injuries—
“Are you okay?” he demands, voice rough.
You nod, breath shaky. “I’m fine.”
He exhales like he’s been holding it the entire time, pressing his forehead to yours for a split second before pulling back, eyes blazing.
“Don’t ever tell me not to come for you,” he says, low and fierce. “You hear me?”
Your heart stutters. “Bucky—”
“I meant it,” he cuts in, softer now, but no less intense. “Anything. That includes this.”
You swallow, your hands finding his, squeezing tight.
“Okay,” you whisper.
---
The third time, it’s quiet.
You’re back home, safe, curled into his side while a movie plays in the background. His fingers trace lazy circles on your arm, grounding, steady.
“You really mean it, don’t you?” you murmur.
Bucky glances down at you. “Mean what?”
“Anything,” you say softly.
He doesn’t hesitate.
“Yeah,” he replies.
Your chest aches in that same overwhelming way, but this time it’s warm, steady, certain.
You shift closer, pressing your face into his neck, breathing him in. “Good.”
His arm tightens around you instantly, pulling you flush against him like it’s instinct.
“Why’s that?” he asks.
You tilt your head up, meeting his eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips.
“Because I’d do anything for you too.”
For once, Bucky’s the one who looks a little stunned.
And then he kisses you like he’s never going to stop.
Fandom spaces lately are a mess and I’m done pretending it’s normal
Not everything here is for minors. A lot of this space is adults creating for other adults. If that bothers you then scroll, block, curate your space, touch some grass, whatever, just stop acting like you own the place and harassing people
A close friend of mine is getting vile anons just for being open about being a mom with a partner. Apparently having a life means you’re not allowed to write fanfic anymore? That’s actually fucking ridiculous.
Since when are idiots this brave that they just show up in people’s askboxes and say the nastiest shit imaginable? Anonymity really got some of you way too comfortable
You’re out here consuming content made by adults while calling them disgusting for existing. Make that make sense
Creativity doesn’t expire when you grow up. Fandom has always been built by people with jobs, families, actual lives. If that bothers you, AGAIN, then fix your feed and leave people alone.
And to those anons?
fuck you and I hope you have the day you deserve. Since you’re so worried anon, I’ll let you know her kids are happy, her partner is happy and her life is just fine while you’re a sad little nobody bullying people online. Know your fucking place.
Hey, I need a bit of advice. I'm kindof new to writing, and I know that there's a lot of stuff that goes into writing before you start the story, such as building the characters etc. Do you have like a basic overview of the things that should definitely be done before I try to write things out into a story? Also, what is a character arc and how do I write one? I hope this ask makes sense.
Hi!
There is so much going into a story. But this is not the format to analyse every little detail of it and you also just wanted a basic overview before you start, so here it is.
Basic overview: How to write a story?
Theme
What kind of story do you want to tell?
What do you want to write about?
What genre do you want to write in?
What is your target audience?
Is there a message you want to convey?
Specific issues you want to highlight?
What narrator do you want to tell the story?
Structure
Before you start you need a rough idea on where to start and where to end
Beginning
Who is there in the beginning and where are they?
Ending
Who is still left and where do they end up?
Bear in mind that a story doesn’t need a happy ending, it just needs a satisfying one
Middle part (you don’t need to know this in detail)
you just need a few scenes to make a timeline
you need to kind of know how to get from the beginning to the end
you will need ups and downs and twists
Some major plot points for the middle part
Places/stops
Plot twists
When and how does the MC meet the other characters?
Key scenes to further the plot
A few scenes you already know you want to have in the story
Characters
How to create a character? (Tips for creating and developing characters)
Who is your MC?
How many MCs do you have?
How many important characters do you need?
Character arc – your character can’t stand still; they need some kind of drive or problem that is a change to what their life was before
You have to send them on a journey, they have to overcome things you threw in their way
At the end of the story something has to have changed for them
This is just some basic stuff, so if you or anyone else wants some part of this a little bit more detailed let me know.
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ellievsbear
origamiaround
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pixelskylines
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