#The second image is inspired from another Block Tales post I saw

[genomesoldier]

So fucking mad that I let myself get attached to the Builderman psychopomp. So, so mad. My mental health is in shambles

[until-theend-oftheline]

Second Chances - Part 4: Saviors

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Hyperthermia, Innocent state of undressed, mention of surgery, wounds.    

Square Filled: Free Space (C3) for @buckybarnesbingo and Falling Through the Ice for @badthingshappenbingo

Word Count: 2800ish

A/N: This series is done for @thorne93 and heavily inspired by tow songs by The Chainsmokers which is This Feeling and Paris. Please go listen to them since even if I don’t reference them specifically they heavily decided the mood and plot of this fic.

There is no sex in this part but there will be in later parts so rating for the series is mature.

Betaed by: @jewels2876 - thank you hun!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Second Chances Masterlist

Antibes, 2016

“Doctor. Captain.” T’Challa’s voice sounded through the room and you both instantly seemed to ease up slightly. His presence was commanding as he looked between the two of you.

“What’s going on?” he asked, taking his eyes off Steve to look at you and you couldn’t seem to hold back your words, almost like a toddler tattling on her sibling to their parent.

“Captain Rogers wants to move Bucky. I don’t know where you’re going but even moving him could be dangerous and the flight is going to kill him,” you spoke quickly, before chancing a glance at Steve who seemed to be softening a little.

“Maybe staying for a while isn’t a bad idea Captain?” T’Challa also turned his attention to Steve, letting you know it was ultimately his choice what they were going to do. Bucky was Steve’s friend and T’Challa was going to follow his lead.

“How long?” Steve’s eyes met yours and you lowered the gun completely. You looked back at Bucky for a brief moment. The truth was you couldn't be sure. Had he been a normal person you wouldn’t dare move him for several days, but Bucky wasn’t normal.  

You took a deep breath before looking back at Steve, “48 hours. Maybe 24. It depends on him really and how fast he heals.”

“We’ll stay 24,” Steve agreed and T’Challa seemed to relax before giving Steve a nod.

“I’ll take the first shift,” T’Challa said before disappearing back out the door, leaving you to instantly miss him. His presence seemed to work as a buffer between you and Steve, who was once again back to watching your every move as you began changing Bucky’s bandages.

You worked in silence trying to keep your focus on Bucky and ignore the Steve staring at you. It didn’t anger you. You knew that he worried and he had no reason to trust you. You knew what your last name associated you with and Steve didn’t know you so there was no reason for him to think any different.

It was getting late so after you had finished up on Bucky, you headed into the kitchen fixing up a few sandwiches. You left one in the fridge with a note for T’Challa before grabbing the two others, along with a couple of beers, then headed back into the living room. You stopped in the doorway when you saw Steve standing at Bucky’s side, with his back turned to you. His hand was resting on the unconscious man’s shoulder as he spoke softly to him, telling him to hang in there.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, not wanting to disturb but also not wanting Steve to think you were spying on him. He turned around slowly and completely unsurprised, causing you to scold yourself. After spending two years with Bucky, you should be used to super soldier hearing by now. Of course, Steve had already known you had been standing there.

You awkwardly held out the sandwiches and beer for both of you showing them to him, “Peace offering?”

Steve suspiciously eyed food before looking back at you, “How do I know you didn’t poison them?”

Your eyes widened and you felt the anger bubble in your chest. You understood him not completely trusting you but this was getting ridiculous.

“Really? If that’s how it’s gonna be, you can starve,” you grumbled before pulling up a chair to sit down next to Bucky’s head. Your head jerked up as Steve chuckled and pulled up a chair to sit across from you.

“It was a joke Doctor,” he smiled at you for the first time and you blinked a few times to make sure you weren’t seeing things.

“Well you are very not funny then Captain,” you pulled a face at him, but offered a small smile anyway as you pushed the sandwich and beer towards him. At least this was progress, even if you didn't expect it to last. You had heard plenty stories of the stubbornness Steve Rogers possessed. Bucky damn well better hurry up and wake up because you weren’t sure how much longer your patience would prevent you from strangling his best friend.

You ate in silence only interrupted by a slight movement of Bucky’s hand and you instantly sprung to your feet, checking his vitals and shining a light into his eyes. You sat back down with a sigh, telling Steve slight movements were normal neural responses and didn’t mean anything.

Steve nodded and relaxed back into his chair, taking another sip of his beer as you continued watching Bucky for a while. You felt Steve’s eyes on you again but this time it didn’t bother you as much since his look was more curious this time than judgemental.

“He guided you here,” you said quietly without taking your eyes off Bucky. You felt Steve sit up a little straighter so you continued before he could put his guards up again. “Bucky is the only person in the world that would know to find me here. You’re here because he needed my help. Because this is where he wants to be. He trusts me. Do you trust him?”

You turned your eyes away from Bucky to look at Steve, who took a deep breath before he nodded.

“I do.”

“Then you can trust me too,” you promised him. “I won’t hurt him. He’s the last person in the world I would want to hurt and he loves you so you’re safe as well.” The last part you said a little more jokingly but Steve’s face didn’t shift from the serious folds he had put on.

“Why are you trying to help him?” Steve asked, studying you carefully.

“He helped me,” you paused before taking a deep breath. “And he saved my life once. It’s time I repay the favor.”

Siberia, Early 2015

The cold was like a thousand knives against your skin. You had traveled all over the world but you tended to prefer the warmer climates. It didn’t help Barnes got even more sullen than usual in the cold.

It had been six months now. Six months since Barnes showed up in your apartment. Six months since you had convinced him to take you with him in his search for answers. In a lot of ways, Barnes seemed to be doing better. His memories were slowly returning and he scribbled them all down in little notebooks to make heads and tales of them. You never asked to read them and Barnes never offered.

Just like you pretended you didn’t hear him tossing and turning in the bed across the room in a new room every night. Dirty American motel rooms had been traded for dirty Russian motels. Life on the road was rough but you were used to it. It wasn’t a big deal and you didn’t mind doing odd jobs along the way to earn some money for food and a bed. You even did a few consultations here and there, earning some food or whatever the occasional villager had to spare.

Barnes always stayed back. Maybe it was to keep watch or maybe he was sure he’d scare your patients off. He still didn’t talk much but he treated you with kindness even on his bad and more sullen days. He didn’t take his moodiness out on you but rather his surrounding. He wasn’t a bad travel companion and to be honest you admired the man.

After all, he had been through he was still incredibly kind to people, not just you but random strangers on your way. He was alert and vigilant which was to be expected and you were sure his skills had kept you out of trouble until now.

You were in Siberia. Back where it all started for Barnes and even for HYDRA there was history here. There were still smaller cells around the world trying to regain some of their lost power. It just so happened you and Barnes had managed to walk straight into one of those.

Barnes had quickly shoved you under a table to hide as he took out five agents on his own. Your jaw dropped to the floor as you watched him. You had tended to his wounds in the past. You knew the man had an impressive physique but seeing him in action like this was something else entirely.

Not until all five agents laid dead on the ground did Barnes turn to face you. He squatted down in front of the table, reaching out his hand to you.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded and was just about to take his hand when you spotted movement from the floor above you.

“Look out!” you yelled as a grenade was fired from above you. Barnes moved fast, blocking it with his metal arm but the blast was enough to send him flying through a wall and a few feet to the floor below.

“James!” you called after him, panic and fear evident in your voice. Stupidly your fear wasn’t for your own life, that was at risk from the HYDRA agent most likely fast approaching you, but for the man that laid a floor beneath you groaning as he began moving. You breathed a sigh of relief as you watched Barnes get back on his feet.

He looked up at you and waved his arm to signal you to move on. “Get out of there Doc. Now!”

That was the moment the fear for your own life took over. You sprung to your feet to see an agent fast approaching from the hall. You twirled around, sprinting down the opposite way you and Barnes had come. You had thought for nothing but to get away from the man behind you. You ran. Through halls and corridors. Past holding cells and medical rooms worse looking than the one hidden away behind the DC medbay. You ran and tried to suppress the images of Barnes being held in those. Now wasn’t the time. You needed to get away.

You sped up when you saw the light of day, hearing the man closing in on you from behind. You sprinted from the building, into the open and straight onto the ice. You realized your mistake as soon as you felt it beneath your feet but you had no choice but to continue and hope for the best.

Hope wasn’t enough as it would turn out and you felt the ground give beneath your feet and you fell just as a shot rang through the air, followed by Barnes calling out your name. His voice was the last thing you heard before the cold water swallowed you, pulling you down and making it instantly impossible for you to move. The pain was excruciating as you fought to reach the surface to little avail.

Your conscious was slipping when a metal arm broke the ice, grabbing your jacket and pulling you back onto the ice and into the safety of two strong arms.

“Hey. Hey. Are you with me?” Barnes asked, shaking you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

“Cold,” you stuttered and he nodded, looking around. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he kept you close, kept rubbing your arms and back trying to get a bit of warmth into you.

“I know sweetheart. I know. We can’t stay here,” he muttered. “I’m going to carry you back to the truck. We’ll find shelter somewhere. You’ll be okay.”

You closed your eyes as he lifted you off the ground and he started to run. Bucky moved fast as if you weighed nothing. He moved so fast the wind made you shiver even worse than before. You were practically blue when you finally reached the truck.

Barnes pulled the door open and lifted you into the front, before running around the car getting into the driver’s seat.

“Y/N. I have to get us out of here,” Barnes tenderly cupped your face. “Are you with me?”

“Ye...yes,” you shivered, trying to focus on the warmth from his hands.

“Good. Good. Doc, I need you to try and get your clothes off for me,” Barnes spoke softly, in great contrast to the way he put the truck into motion. He sped through the snow-covered land, as his eyes flickered back to you occasionally to make sure you were still awake. When you appeared to be struggling a little too much with a zipper or a bottom, Barnes quickly reached out to the side to help you. When you were down to your underwear, he took his eyes of the road long enough to reach into the back for two thick blankets, throwing them over you.

When you had been driving for a while, he started cranking up the heat, his eyes still flickering towards you as he took you fast and far away from the HYDRA base.

“You couldn’t have thought of that earlier?” you glared at his hand resting over the heater as your teeth continued to clatter.

“You’re the doctor. What would happen if I let you heat up too fast?” Barnes looked over at you with a smile. Clearly relieved you were feeling well enough to chastise him.

“Oh shut up. I’m cold. My brain stopped working,” you mumbled, causing Barnes to laugh and reach out to try and rub a bit of warmth into you.

“There’s an abandoned cabin a few clicks east. I noticed it on our way up here. We can stay there for the night,” Barnes promised you and you nodded. You just wanted to get inside, near a fire or possible into a warm bath.  

“I remembered something.” Barnes started talking and you knew he was trying to keep you awake.

“Yeah?” you fought to keep your eyes open looking over at him.

“I remembered falling off a train. Steve tried to catch me. He almost fell too,” Barnes looked over at you, giving you a slight shake when he noticed your eyes closed.

“I’m awake. Captain America is clumsy. Anything else?” you muttered, opening your eyes to see Barnes smiling at you as he pulled up next to an old cabin.

“No. But I realized I am done chasing the bad parts of my past. I want a life, not to stay their prisoner,” Barnes answered you as he lifted you out of the truck, making sure the blankets were securely wrapped around you as a shelter from the cold.

“That’s great James,” you muttered as Barnes lowered you down on the couch after having kicked the door open and shut behind you. He looked over his shoulder as he began lighting the fireplace.

“Don’t call me that,” he said and your eyes instantly opened wide as you realized your mistake. You hadn’t ever called him anything but Barnes or Sergeant Barnes since you realized who he was.

“Sorry. Barnes,” you corrected yourself feeling a bit foolish, but he just smiled at you as the fire caught on.

“Not that either. Bucky. My name is Bucky,” he clarified, making you smile through your shudders.

"Bucky," you repeated, tasting the word in your mouth. You liked it. It was a strange name but somehow it suited him.

Bucky frowned when he saw you still shaking. The heat from the fire and blanket wasn’t going to be enough. He stood up and started to undress without a word.

Your eyes widened. You had shared a room many times now but he usually had the decency to step into the bathroom before dressing down.

“What… what are you doing?” you asked as his pants hit the floor after his shirt, and he began moving to lay down behind you after having stripped down to his boxers.

“Body heat will warm you up quicker and safer,” Bucky explained, reaching out to gently tug the blanket you were clenching against your body. “Let me in?”

You hesitated for a moment before you let go and let Bucky tug the blankets aside, to crawl in with you. He wrapped his arms around you and you felt the heat radiating from his body start to warm up your freezing limps. You closed your eyes, pressing yourself as close to his chest as possible.

His fingers ran through your hair and he gave you a small squeeze. “You’re gonna be okay Doc. Sleep now.”

You hummed in agreement, as sleep was already overtaking you, but not before you realized something. Even in the middle of nowhere in Siberia, still fighting hyperthermia, you had never in your life felt safer or at home than you did in the arms of Bucky Barnes.

Please reblog; help me spread my work - Leave a comment. Feedback is fuel

Bucky Barnes Tag Team

@feelmyroarrrr @littlebittcrazy @sleepretreat @roxyspearing @jewels2876 @hellaqueerangelofthelord @blacktithe7 @danijimenezv @rumoured-whispers @becs-bunker @smoothdogsgirl @avengerscompound @grace-for-sale @scarletlingeries @averyrogers83 @sebs-potato @sorenmarie87 @docharleythegeekqueen @erosbellarke  @the-wayward-robot @super100012 @myfanficlibrarium @lucifersbird @achishisha @awkwardfangirl2014 @igotkatiepowers @dottirose @panicatttckiss @kimmiestrawberrykiwi @sdciopo @deathofmissjackson @cosicas-cuquis

Second Chances 

@frankiea1998 @ambientsmells @mysweetcookie99 @yes-captainstark

[sickandtideeeee]

By Bast - Chapter 9 (Erik x Reader)

A/N: maybe things will start moving from here haha. Please comment/reblog if possible! <3

Did you really want to hear this tyrant’s sob story?

It didn’t matter how you answered that question – there was an absolute need to hear him that sprang from somewhere deep within. In mere moments, you were consumed wholly by the hellish childhood that unfolded unsteadily before you. Erik – his American name was Erik Stevens – spoke clumsily and nonlinearly, sorting through the events of his life as though they were an endless tangled mess of cables.

It was an unnatural retelling of his life up to this point in time. When he had first started speaking, his tone was as flippant as usual as he described growing up as a child like any other believing in “fairy tales” of a fantastical land, Wakanda, imparted to him by his father. He paused suddenly and briefly, undoubtedly wondering if it was worth divulging this much personal information, but then something else seemed to seize control of his voice. He opened his mouth and words now seemed to tumble out, shakily, far from his own volition. His tone grew from confused to angry and finally evolved into a calmness that sharply contrasted the fiery confidence he always exuded.

What was even more unnatural was that some of the words N’Jadaka spoke would trigger memories in you that were not your own. Through his eyes, you saw his father in health, trying to instill a sense of self-confidence and pride in his son, teaching him where he came from. Through his eyes, you saw his father slain, and you knelt over a lifeless figure many times larger than the then-preadolescent N’Jadaka. The blood splattered in and around the deep claw wounds in his chest had already begun to dry or congeal, betraying the many hours he had lain there, all alone in the center of a small, dimly lit apartment. Vibranium claws glistened, protruding from his chest.

What kind of evil person leaves a child to bury his father and fend for himself?

Through young Erik’s person, a hastily packed suitcase slung over his shoulders, you knocked and knocked on a familiar apartment door only to find that ‘Uncle James’ who lived down the street seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. Little did young Erik know that ‘Uncle James’ had long returned to Wakanda, and taken charge of another child, yourself, as though he had not abandoned another in dire need.

You watched him navigate the horrors of the foster care system, a preteen committing his first homicide while defending himself from a sexual predator who also was deemed the man of the house. As he progressed through adolescence, you felt the silent, caustic rage that emerged from his constant abandonment and disregard.

He graduated from university with honors despite growing up disenfranchised. He joined the military immediately. He flew through the ranks. He murdered, lied, stole, cheated and manipulated others his entire adult life. He threw out any hope of a normal life for the sake of wrath. He worked with international criminals, including one well-known to Wakanda, Ulysses Klaue, in order to get access to what he needed. Revenge.

You saw him keep score on his body, life after life after life.

You had seen enough. You shook your head as though to rid yourself of any further images. Had you been in a trance? At some point, your fingers had curled gently around his wrist. Withdrawing your hand rapidly, you stood up shakily, head still spinning.

N’Jadaka stared at you incredulously.

“You didn’t just hear what I said. You saw it.” He said this in a low whisper. His statement didn’t quite sound accusatory.

You didn’t respond, but your eyes began to glisten. It was enough for him to know for sure.

“Shit!” This time he bellowed, and you reflexively covered your ears, cowering as he seemed to fly towards you in a flurry of anger. For a split second, you wondered if you would become another raised mark on his skin.

“You fucking-!“ You closed your eyes, waiting for the blow. When it never came, you opened them to see him towering over you, hands clenched into fists. He glowered at you with eyes now tinged blood-red, his face hot; he seemed to literally be giving off steam and you could almost feel it off his skin, he was so far into your personal space.

“That shit was private. Don’t you ever fucking do whatever you just did again.” He spat, his face merely millimeters from yours. His intimidating glare lingered just a few seconds before he turned his back on you.

“Get the fuck out.” He said, without looking back. You recognized that this was a small act of mercy. If he had to take another look at you, he would change his mind and snap you like a twig. On that note, you took no time to gather yourself and skittered over to the door. You had entirely too much information to mull over the rest of the day.

But before you left him to his own, you stopped at the doorway. For the first time since he had arrived, you had garnered a tiny kernel of sympathy for him. Mustering the courage to speak, you faced his direction one more time.

“They were wrong to do that to you.” You croaked softly. You watched the muscles of his back tense up in response, but he did not respond. Your words hanging in the air just a little longer, you promptly turned and left.

He was and is still wrong to be who he is now, but they were wrong too, you thought, letting the door slam shut behind you.

--

It was not as though you hadn’t expected N’Jadaka to be above holding grudges – this was a man who was harboring anger against an entire country, after all - but this was excessive.

“So you really will not let me leave this room?”

The Dora standing in front of your doorway, facing outward, turned her neck to you and shook her head. She was clearly enjoying this, as indicated by the mischievous smirk that crossed her face.

Your stomach growled audibly, and you let out a defeated sigh. You had been confined to this room from the moment you woke up this morning at sunrise, and it was now approaching mid-afternoon. The guard turned on her heels suddenly as you attempted to close your door, almost startling you. She was at least 6 and a half feet tall and had to almost bend over to whisper to you.

“What did you say to him anyway? We’re all wondering.”

“Nothing.” Of course you lied. However, you weren’t sure if it was for your sake or for his.

She scrunched up her inappropriately cherub-like face in disappointment.

“That’s no fun,” she grumbled, crossing her arms as she returned to her post. You narrowed your eyes slightly in irritation, but quickly forgave her. Her earnestness could be useful. There was something about the softness of her voice that earned some trust. You decided not to lose this opportunity to ask about Amina. To your dismay, she frowned and kept mum, turning away from you.

You decided not to press - at least for now.

Instead, you retired back to your desk. Just from her facial expressions, you had gleaned enough important information. They had been alerted to her disappearance, but she did not appear to have been captured… yet.

Sitting at your desk, you used an AV Bead from your Kimoyo bracelet to access the internet. Through the grapevine, you had heard rumors that N’Jadaka was preparing to impose some censors to the network in a couple of weeks to limit the possibility of insurgency. Prideful as he was, he was tremendously aware that in the hearts of his citizens, he was only secondary to his much-preferred cousin and decided to block any discussion on the latter through the networks.

Today, you were shocked to see a trending, flashing headline that suggested the deployment of vibranium weapons to the Western world was happening in just a few hours.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Accessing the link brought you to a giant countdown timer with mixed commentary on the subject:

- how can this man just appear like this and make us meddle in things that have never concerned us?

- Finally someone understands that if we do not show ourselves to the world, they will feel like they have discovered us

- this man is very unstable. idiot ilali!!

- ^^ Tchaiii, my friend. Have you not heard that he has his people patrolling day and night? I beg, if you want to survive until sunrise please hold your fingers.

All of a sudden, you heard a muffled cry and a loud thud outside your door. Startled, you immediately went offline, almost dropping your beads. You faced the door with wide eyes. That had sounded too much like incapacitation.

Outside the door was a familiar voice.

“Nki, it’s me!”

It couldn’t be.

You ran out the door, crashing into Shuri, and the two of you both laughed and cried. Amina stood beside the two of you, the unfortunate young lady who guarded your door now slung over her shoulders, entirely unconscious.

Before you could ask any questions, Shuri thrust a Kimoyo card into your hands.

“My brother is alive and we’re about to bring this entire mess down. Please take this to my lab. If you see a mediocre-looking American, he knows the rest of the plan.”

Confused and overwhelmed with joy, all you could do was laugh.

“I’m serious, just make sure he stays out of trouble,” she insisted, already jogging away backwards. “I have to go!”

You nodded as she ran off, and then looked over to Amina, who thankfully looked well albeit a little tired.

She gave a small smile back at you, adjusting the human weight on her shoulders. Through her eyes, she gave you a promise to return and explain.

“Be careful,” she warned, motherly as always. Then she ran off as well.

Tagging:  @syndrlla97@iwantsomethingeternal @1killmonger @chasingsunlight @hoopshoney @destinio1 @wakanda-inspired @thadelightfulone @lalasparkles @pessimisfit @youreadthatright @stark-red19 @ruruly20 @bossyboyd03 @autumn242 @heybriheyyy @thelovelyliterary @muse-of-mbaku @bidibidibombaclaat @supersizemeplz @romanceoftheeveryday 

[much--madness]

Fic: Between the Lines [1/4]

Rating: NC17 Pairing: Katsuki Yuuri/Viktor Nikiforov Length: 2328 words Summary: Writer Viktor has writer’s block and decides to enroll in a short fiction workshop where he meets a quiet student named Yuuri Katsuki. A new love story is written with Yuuri as the co-author.

AO3 Link

Part of the Yuuri/Viktor bingo game with @heeysammyjay Our attempt to write more x.x

Viktor tapped his pen against the notebook while idly listening to the professor. The class was Short Fiction, a class that he had taken on a whim because he had a severe case of writer’s block.

Viktor has been a published author since his teens and his works have been recognized globally. And while he’s had bouts of writer’s block in the past, Viktor had never fallen victim to it for more than a month.

It’s been three months now. Nothing he’s tried has motivated him. He was bored beyond belief and the pressure put upon by his publishing agent wasn’t enough to kick him into gear. He had nothing and he needed something… even just a little bit of inspiration.

Hence the class. It was at a local community college and even the first step onto the campus gave him the sense that he made the right decision. This was different and new, but it still wasn’t enough to dispel the feeling of monotonous stagnation in his mind.

Thirty minutes into the class and Viktor was already bored out of his mind so he allowed his eyes to wander. They stopped on a student whose dark head was bent down towards his open notebook. Viktor perked up in his seat, his attention piqued by what he was seeing. The student was scribbling almost furiously into his notebook, the swaying of his pen gliding through the page was mesmerizing. He seemed really motivated, thoroughly captivated by some thought.

Viktor was surprised the professor hadn’t noticed but then again the student was seated to the side, most likely hidden behind the rather stocky student in front of him. Because he had nothing better do and because the dark haired student was rather cute, Viktor continued to watch him.

He seemed enraptured, only pausing for a few seconds before he went at it again. It really did intrigue Viktor to see someone so passionate about writing. He leaned against his hand, focused entirely on the other student.

What was he writing? Fiction? Sci-fi? Adventure? Who’s to say he was even writing a story? For all Viktor knew, the other student could be catching up on work from another class.

The thought made him frown. For some reason, he wanted the boy to be passionate about writing, consumed by some story or plot… perhaps it was Viktor’s own lack of motivation that made him want to see others motivated.

He decided then and there that he and that other student would be friends. The boy’s pen paused. He took a glance around the room and inadvertently caught Viktor’s gaze. Brown eyes framed by a pair of glasses widened in surprise and there was a slight tinge of pink rising his cheeks.

Viktor gave the boy a wink and watched in amusement as the pen clattered to the floor. Yes, Viktor decided, they’d definitely be friends.

Or more, his mind suggested.

That sounded even better.

  In the bustle of departing students, Viktor had lost sight of his target. He had wanted to approach the other boy, but by the time he had packed away his things, the other student’s desk was vacant. There was no sign of him within the crowd of remaining students and Viktor had to stomp down on the disappointment he felt.

He ignored the disappointment. It didn’t matter that he didn’t get to talk to his new interest today, he’d do it next time. Now that he had his sights set on someone, he’d be able to further pay attention and get closer to his prey. Friend, his mind corrected him.

It was Tuesday and the next class was Thursday. He stopped and talked with the professor a bit, the only person in the class that knew Viktor wrote under a very well known pen name.

He left the school, not entirely motivated, but maybe a little encouraged. He managed to write a few lines for his book and realized that he was thinking of a dark haired boy, brown eyes, and long fingers curled lax around a pen. He felt something different besides the endless monotony that had been his life and it excited him.

A little later in the evening, an alert pinged on his phone while he was typing away. He ignored it for a few minutes, but a glance had him quickly unlocking the phone.

Besides writing, Viktor was an avid reader and one thing he liked to indulge in was fanfiction. And one of his favorite authors had just posted a story.

It was too tempting to just open the page and immerse himself into a story. He managed to resist it and even continued writing for a few more hours. The couple breaks he had in between had his hands itching to open the new story through.

Between thoughts of a new promising story and thoughts of the boy in class, Viktor eventually sighed and set aside his work for now.

He couldn’t do anything about the interesting boy, but at least he could indulge himself in reading.

An hour later found Viktor sprawled on the couch, a tablet propped up on a pillow. Maakachin dozed against him as he re-read several scenes that had him giddy and excited.

The writer’s online pen name was omNomKatsu. Viktor thought it was cute and fit well with the type of stories the author liked to write. They were mainly cute little fics of the yaoi variety. Mainly rated PG13 or M, they have never reached NC17 rating. Viktor didn’t mind at all, he simply enjoyed reading them. The author had such a way with words and phrases, Viktor was entranced with the style and thought the writer was surely an amazing individual.

There was a kind of purity in omNom’s writing, a genuine relationship between the characters that left Viktor and most likely all other readers, warm and smiling from the emotion. It was easy to get sucked into their writing and finishing a story left him feeling bereft but somehow feeling whole. This particular story ended in a very fairy-tale like ending, two lovers torn apart and coming back together after conquering all the obstacles.

He didn’t need the “They lived happily ever after” to imagine that that was, in fact, what truly happened.

Viktor went to bed with all these fluffy feelings inside him. The last thought he had before sleep took him was a pensive one. Would he ever find someone to share these feelings with?

Then, before sleep truly claimed him, he saw the image of a dark haired boy, one who was blissfully aware of the world as his pen danced across the empty lines of a notebook. Then brown eyes blinked in surprise as they met with Viktor’s gaze.

He smiled as he drifted into dreams.

Yeah… it’d be nice.

That Thursday, Viktor made sure to come in a few minutes before the lecture started. By then, his target had already been seated and his heavy backpack settled onto the vacant seat next to him.

He found out just how pretty the other boy looked, all flustered and wide-eyed when Viktor stopped at the desk with a request to join him. It was accompanied with a bright smile, Viktor’s secret weapon when it came to getting what he wanted.

“Um…” The boy was surprised but quickly cleared the seat.

“Viktor Nikiforov,” the silver haired man introduced himself.

“Katsu- um. I mean, Yuuri Katsuki,” the boy, Yuuri, said in return. His brown eyes were wide behind the rim of his glasses and his hands fiddled with a pen.

A shy boy then. Viktor didn’t let that deter him.

“Yuuri.” Viktor tested the name on his tongue and liked how it felt. His new desk mate flushed a bit more, ears turned pink but gave a tentative smile when Viktor shook his hand.

After that, the professor called the lecture into session. Viktor played the model student but was hyper aware of the presence by his side. He hid a smile behind his hand when he caught Yuuri stealing glances at him.

And just for fun, Viktor caught his gaze once and quirked an eyebrow in question. As expected, the boy quickly dropped his gaze, seemingly engrossed with the lecture.

Viktor noticed the boy had two notebooks on the table, both open with the smaller one tucked beneath the other.

Perhaps it was rude of him, but Viktor was very, very curious. He could tell that Yuuri was just as distracted as he was. The dark haired boy was constantly fiddling with the pen in his hand, biting his lip, and tapping the pen against a blank page.

Now and then, he would get this far away look in his eyes. The tapping would slow as thoughts, no doubt, raced through his mind, and then he’d blink in rapid succession as though he was just waking from a dream.

Viktor knew that look. He, himself, constantly wore a similar expression when in the grips of some idea or story that was yet untold.

He even felt a little bad, because he was surely adding to the other student’s discomfort. He couldn’t help it though, there was just something about the other boy that drew his attention.

So although he should have felt bad, he really didn’t. He had watched Yuuri from the corner of his eye at first, taking in every feature. The words came as his mind tried to capture the other boy in words.

He sits in front of me, this boy that wasn’t there. And I wonder where he has gone while the words wash over us. We’re in our own world, but we do not meet. He’s far from me and I wonder… how can I travel to where he is?

His hair is dark, the strands just short enough to brush against the sides of his face. And his long fingers curl against the length of a pen, the tapping against the white sheet slow and steady, like a heartbeat. What world would he bring to life?

I ache for him to turn and see me. If I just reach out my hand, I could touch him but he’s far from me.

How do I get to where you are? So that I may walk by your side.

The pen stopped as he finished penning the curve of the ‘e’. The words Viktor wrote while watching Yuuri were full of longing and described his feelings entirely.

By the time a break was announced, Viktor was blatantly observing the other boy with one cheek pressed against his palm.

Yuuri sighed in relief, closing the notebook. He made a squeak of surprise when he turned and saw Viktor watching him, his face turning quite red.

“Um,” he mumbled as he stood. Viktor casually got up as well. Yuuri looked up at him, lips parted, and obviously unsure of what to make of the situation. It was just too cute.

Viktor gave him a friendly smile, hoping that it wouldn’t scare off the shy boy. “Would you like to get some coffee?”

The offer had the boy fidgeting some more. He looked like he wanted to say yes but he was still so unsure.

“I’m new on campus,” Viktor offered, “I only know the cafeteria so I never go during break…”

“Oh!” The boy’s eyes lit up in understanding. He gave a shy smile, “I can show you where the coffee stand is.”

Viktor gave him a grateful smile and followed him out. It was a short walk towards the small coffee stand they had. Surprisingly, Yuuri filled the silence with quiet chatter, asking Viktor how he was finding the school and their current class. It was the usual talk between two strangers, but it wasn’t at all awkward. Yuuri, despite his shy demeanor, was genuinely interested in Viktor’s response.

Yuuri noticed when the student working at the stall handed Viktor his usual order without even asking. Instead of getting mad at Viktor’s lie, his mouth quirked up in amusement.

“Strange how you only know the cafeteria but Chris knew your order as soon as he saw your face,” Yuuri teased in a friendly manner.

Viktor laughed in embarrassment. He was caught. “I may… have come by once or ten times,” Viktor admitted shamelessly.

Yuuri hummed in agreement.

Viktor wanted to say, I wanted to spend some time with you, but felt that it was too forward. So instead, he promised, “I’ll treat you to coffee tomorrow.”

At Yuuri’s curious glance, he added, “To make up for lying.”

The dark haired boy was quiet for a moment, then after taking a sip, he looked up at Viktor with a shy smile. “…That’s no good,” he told Viktor solemnly, “I would be in your debt if you bought my coffee.”

Before Viktor could object, Yuuri then said, “I’ll buy the coffee the next day then.”

He nodded, satisfied with his decision and looked up at Viktor with a hesitant glance. “If that’s okay with you?”

Surprised at the offer, Viktor realized it was more than okay. He had wanted to forge a start to getting to know the boy, but this way… he wasn’t sure if Yuuri knew how clever his plan was or if he was just simply kind and sweet.

Nevertheless, Viktor gave a large smile and nodded. They continued talking while drinking their coffees, slowly getting to know one another on a level that was beyond the words they exchanged.

Then they realized there were only five minutes left to the break. They trashed the cups and had to run back to the building.

Yuuri grabbed his hand when Viktor lagged behind. They laughed as they barely made it back, dropping into their seats while still panting for breath.

The rest of the class passed without any further disruption but by the end of it, Viktor thought this one was the most memorable one yet.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[williamlwolf89]

Stuck? Try These 72 Creative Writing Prompts (+ 6 Bonus Tips)

I bet you just asked Google to search for creative writing prompts.

Or was it writing ideas? Short story ideas? Or maybe writer’s block?

Boy, are you stuck!

But don’t worry. It doesn’t matter if you’re halfway through writing a book, sweating over social media posts, or journaling about your own life, all writers get stuck for creative ideas sometimes.

So, it’s great to have you here.

This is your go-to source of story starters, writing prompts, and bonus writing tips guaranteed to improve your writing skills, power up your passion, and get your creative juices flowing in 2020.

Here’s what we’ll cover:

Writing Prompts Q&A

72 Writing Prompts (Broken into Categories)

6 Bonus Tips (to Sharpen Your Writing Skills)

We’ll start with a few common questions and answers…

What are Writing Prompts?

A writing prompt can be a phrase, an image, or even a physical object that kick starts your imagination and motivates you to write. It provides a spark of an idea as a starting point to stimulate a natural flow of writing.

Writing prompts are ideal for any form of writing, like fiction or nonfiction, journaling, copywriting, blogging, or poetry. They usually contain two parts: an idea or a potential topic to write about, and the instructions on what you should do next.

For example, a creative writing prompt for fiction writers might be:

Your main character has a car accident and starts to hear voices while in the hospital. Write a short story about the conflict between the character and the voices and what really happened at the time of the car accident.

While journal prompts tend to focus on topics of self-awareness, such as:

Write about a turning point in your life. How different would things be now if you had made a different decision at the time?

What is the Purpose of Writing Prompts?

Writing prompts are like a pre-match warm-up. They help to relax your creative muscles, unblock your imagination, and free up your mind to focus on the main game of writing without fear or hesitation.

Instead of wasting time by thinking of a topic to write about, writing prompts get your creative juices flowing straight away, compelling you to put pen to paper.

Writing prompts also help you see things in a new light. They force you to think outside your comfort zone and use your imagination and creativity like never before.

Without them, we can become permanently sidelined by our inner critic. Or worse still, the gripping cramp of writer’s block.

How Do You Use Writing Prompts?

Like all muscle-building exercises, writing prompts are most effective when you make them a daily habit. Over time, with repetition, you’ll find your flow of writing becomes more natural, and your ability to write for longer strengthens.

But don’t feel you have to follow a prompt to the letter. If the prompt suggests you write about romance, but it sparks an idea for a poem, write a poem. Let your imagination guide you through the writing process.

Here are some other hot tips:

Don’t overthink it. Just start writing.

Don’t edit as you go.

If it’s not working for your style of writing, move on to another prompt. Find the prompts that make you want to write.

The creative writing prompt is a starting point. The finish is up to you. You don’t have to write a complete story, a poem, or an essay. Feel free to discard your work halfway through and move on to something else.

Adopt the Ernest Hemingway approach: Accept that most of what you write is likely to be crap, and you’re going to toss it. This isn’t about producing ready-to-publish work for your latest freelance writing job. It’s about the practice of writing.

How Else Can I Improve My Creative Writing Skills?

Improving your skills takes lots of writing practice. And using creative writing prompts is one of the best ways to do just that. But it’s not the only way. Here are a few other techniques you might want to explore:

Freewriting

This is when you write about anything that pops into your head. Take a blank page, set a timer for 30 minutes, and start writing. Write whatever your brain tells you to, and don’t worry if it’s nonsensical.

This writing exercise is great for pushing through writer’s block and allowing your mind to head off in spontaneous directions.

The Adjectives Game

List 5 things you like or dislike tasting, and then list 5 adjectives for each item. For example, you might like the taste of cake. The 5 adjectives might be: sweet, gooey, yummy, nutty, and scrumptious. Now do the same for your other senses.

This builds your sensory vocabulary and ability to write with flair and color.

Perspectives

Write about a recent incident you were involved in, from the point of view of someone else who was involved. Empathy is hugely important in writing and this exercise forces you to step into the shoes of another person and understand their point of view.

Dialogue

Writing authentic dialogue is notoriously hard to master, so this writing exercise will help.

Write about 300 words of a conversation between two people without using ‘he said/she said’ tags. Show the difference and relationship between the two speakers only through the words they use. It’s more challenging than it sounds.

Observation

Think of a color. Now go for a walk or a ride on the bus and note down everything you see of that color. When you get home, write up what you remember (take notes as you go to make it easier).

How many different hues of the color did you see? What did the things you saw make you feel? Was there any connection between them?

Brevity

Think of an anecdote you like to recount. Write it up in less than 500 words. Now rewrite the same story in 100 words. Now in 50 words. And finally, in 25 words or less, if you can achieve it.

This exercise shows how filler words, background, and context can sometimes get in the way of a good story. It will help you choose your words carefully.

If you’ve got the time and energy, here are a few more exercises to really help flex those writing muscles.

Now, let’s explore those creative writing prompts we promised you.

Back to Top

72 Writing Prompts to Help You Kickstart Your Imagination

Fiction Writing Prompts

Fantasy Writing Prompts

Romance Writing Prompts

Comedy Writing Prompts

Horror Writing Prompts

Persuasive Copywriting Prompts

Poetry Writing Prompts

Journal Writing Prompts

Blog Writing Prompts

Non-Fiction Writing Prompts

Random Writing Prompts

Fiction Writing Prompts

“It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.” Use this famous opening line to start your own novel.

Rewrite your resume as a short story, either in the first or third person.

Open the dictionary at any page and select the first word that catches your eye. Write the opening few paragraphs of a thriller using that word at least three times.

Write a synopsis of your version of the movie, Groundhog Day. What would your day look like and why?

Write a short story using these words: Mountainous, parched, field mouse, time travel, and Black Forest Gateau.

Sit in a café and write a short story about the person or couple at the next table. Take note of their body language and clothing, what they’re eating, or doing. And if you can eavesdrop, let their conversation inspire you too.

Write about a person who is arrested for committing a crime, but they can’t remember anything about the night the crime occurred. What is the crime, why can’t they remember and what happens next?

Fantasy Writing Prompts

If you could come back to life as any person, animal or thing, what or who would you be and how would you live your second life?

The world’s oceans dry up. Who or what survives?

You open the bathroom door and find the room’s disappeared. In its place is another world. Describe what you see and hear, and what you do next?

You’re sitting at a bar talking to a giraffe. What’s the conversation about?

You live in a fantasy world where people communicate without talking. Write about an average day in this sci-fi, fairy tale world.

You are the inventor of a popular video game. One day the main character from your game knocks on your front door. What does he want?

Write about a character who has a superhuman power. The problem is, they don’t want it. Write about the conflict between the character, his or her power and the everyday life they are forced to lead.

Romance Writing Prompts

What is the most romantic season of the year and why?

 Write a story about love at first sight. It doesn’t have to be about young people, or even about people.

 “Last Christmas” was a song by George Michael that inspired a movie by the same name in 2019. Think of your favorite romantic song and write a film synopsis for it.

If you are a woman, write a short love story about the most romantic experience you could imagine, as a man. If you are a man, reverse the exercise.

The song “Summer Nights” from Grease is about the summer romance between two high school students, with their friends begging to hear more. What memory does that evoke for you about the first time you fell in love, and who did you tell?

Next time you visit a grocery store make a note of the first person you see. What are they wearing, what are they buying, are they alone? Write a description of them as the main character for your next romantic novel.

Your protagonist is about to marry the man she has been in love with for years. A week before the wedding she meets a stranger and falls madly and hopelessly in love. What does she do?

Comedy Writing Prompts

You are a bartender on a quiet night, listening to man drown his sorrows as he tells you how his wife has recently left him for a neighbor. A second man enters and sits at the other end of the bar. It’s the neighbor. Describe the comedy of errors that happens next.

What makes you laugh out loud?

What’s the funniest joke you know? Write the backstory to the main character in the joke.

What’s the funniest thing that’s happened to you in real-life? Write it as a stand-up comedy anecdote with lots of observational humor thrown in.

Your shopping bag rips apart, and all the contents tumble out at the feet of the girl or guy who lives in the apartment below you, who you have fancied for some time. What does your shopping reveal about you and why are you so embarrassed?

List posts are one of the most popular forms of blogging. Write a funny list post about all the things you are not going to do in 2020.

Horror Writing Prompts?

Write the opening chapter to a story that begins: “I stared at my beautiful, evil wife and realized the horror had only just begun.

 “Terror made me cruel” is a line from Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. Write about a situation where terror might make you cruel.

You’re walking home alone late one night when you realize several cats are stalking you. Then the streetlights go out. What happens next?

There’s a locked door at the top of the house you’re staying in. What’s behind it?

What are you really, really scared of? Put yourself in that situation and describe how it feels.

Write a horror story set in either a bar or a graveyard (or both). Include a blue-veined hand, a serial killer, and the phrase “all that spit and sweat.”

Persuasive Copywriting Prompts

Your best friend doesn’t much care for Chinese food. Write down all the reasons why they need to reconsider their opinion and join you tonight at your favorite Chinese restaurant.

Your mother’s always nagging you to clean your room. Write an account of the last time she nagged you, but from her point of view.

Have you ever seen a ghost, or sensed a ghostly presence? Write an account of your experience knowing it will be read by a skeptic.

Talk the Christmas Grinch out of being a Grinch.

A man finds a letter in a bottle while walking on the beach. Where has the bottle come from, how old is it, and what does the letter say? What does it compel the man to do?

Think of a cliché and write an argument against it. Here are a few to start you off:

Time heals all wounds

It’s better to be safe than sorry

Money is the root of all evil

Ignorance is bliss

Poetry Writing Prompts

Open the dictionary at any page and select the first word that catches your eye. Set a timer for 5 minutes and write a list of rhyming words. Now write a poem using as many of those words as you can.

Write a poem about rhythm. It might be about music, or the flow of a river, or the clattering sound of a train. Weave the rhythm you hear in your head into the tempo of your poem.

Write a poem about a feast. Describe how it looks, smells and tastes. Include the different sensations of spices and flavors, the texture and feel of the dishes and how each one made you feel as you ate more and more.

 Write a poem about the “Thrilla in Manila.”

Journal Writing Prompts

Write about your plans for tomorrow and how you hope they’ll turn out.

“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done.” This is a famous quote about self-sacrifice from A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. Write an honest journal entry about how far you would be prepared to go to sacrifice your wealth, happiness, health, or safety for a person or principle.

Write about a single day — either the first or last of your life.

Think about the last time you woke up at 4am, in a cold sweat. What was on your mind and how did you resolve it? Did you feel differently about it in the daylight?

Write a letter in your journal to each of your family members, telling them what your love (and/or hate) about them.

What is your personal manifesto? What are the core principles and values that guide everything you do in life?

Make a list of all the things you’d like to say no to, and then write down the reasons why you don’t — or can’t — say no. Is there a pattern? Is there something you can change?

Blog Writing Prompts

Write about the biggest challenge you have faced and how you overcame it.

Write an open letter to a person or group of people you strongly disagree with and explain why. Use reason not emotion.

Write about the best writing or weight loss tips you can share.

Interview your favorite fictional character.

Describe social media to someone who has never heard of it before. Include advice on which platform might be best for them.

Think of the 3 most unhealthy habits you indulge in and write about how you might be able to break those habits.

What are the top 10 style trends you would like to see make a comeback in 2020?

Further Reading: 255 Blog Post Ideas That’ll Tantalize Your Readers in 2020 by Annaliese Henwood

Non-Fiction Writing Prompts

Write about your views on climate change. Are you a believer or a skeptic? Is the world doing enough? What facts do you know?

Write about a time you had to swallow your pride and do something that made you uncomfortable, either morally or physically.

There is no such thing as a truly unselfish deed. Defend this statement.

If you were to write an autobiography, how would it start?

Random Writing Prompts

Write a fantasy story based on the last dream you had.

Write about your favorite place and how it makes you feel. Use all the sensory language you can muster to describe the place.

If you were a dog, what type would you be and who would own you?

If you had the opportunity to turn back time what would you change about the course of your life and why?

What is your favorite thing to eat and what memories does it evoke?

Write a list of your three most prized possessions (inanimate objects, not people or animals). Imagine you are forced to discard one. Which one would it be and explain the reasons for your choice?

Write your own eulogy as a diary entry. What would you like people to know and say about you?

Write 500 words on what financial freedom looks like to you?

Select a book from your bookshelf and open it to any page. Write out the last sentence of the last complete paragraph on that page and continue writing.

Think of your favorite book or film. Now rewrite the ending to something completely different.

If you were to buy a plane ticket today — no expense spared — where would you go and why?

There they are. A compact list of 72 writing prompts. And when you’ve worked your way through these, you might want to move on to the motherlode of creative writing prompts over at Reddit.

Reddit is part social media platform, part community, part media curator, with 520 million monthly visitors subscribing to message boards across 1.2 million sub-categories. Phew!

One of these subcategories is Writing Prompts, with over 14 million subscribers who have posted years’ worth of prompts, so you’ll never run out of inspiration again.

Back to Top

6 Bonus Writing Tips to Power Up Your Passion and Sharpen Your Skills

Before we let you go…

If you’re looking for creative writing prompts or story ideas, there’s an excellent chance you’re looking for other ways to hone your skills and improve your craft.

Here are 6 bonus writing tips to help you on your journey:

1. Make Time to Write

If you’re not setting aside time to write, you may as well ignore every other piece of advice in this post. Make your writing time sacred and block it off in your calendar. Turn off your phone. Disconnect the internet, close your door, and write.

This is the single best thing you can do if you want to be a writer.

2. Set Writing Goals

We set goals for everything in our life: losing weight, saving for a dream holiday, growing our business, and so on. So, do the same for your writing. Measure your progress.

Start with, say, a 300 or 500 word count in a daily session. Once you consistently reach this goal with ease, up the ante and shoot for more challenging targets. 1,000 words a session; 25,000 words a month, and so on. But make sure your goals are not overwhelming.

Writing goals will help you write faster and with more confidence. Over time you will recognize when you are most productive and can use this to your advantage.

3. Pack Your Writing with a Powerful Punch

Fill your writing with passion from an arsenal of power words. Or supercharge your reader’s imagination with a well-aimed metaphor.

Use these two writing devices to turbocharge your prose and watch the words burst off the page with intention.

4. Harness the Power of Grammar

Grammar reduces confusion and brings clarity and confidence to your writing. It’s a good thing and you need to learn the rules.

But grammar can sometimes get in the way of creativity and turn fluid prose into a turgid swamp of clunky awkwardness.

If starting a sentence with a conjunction feels right, go for it. If you want to brazenly split an infinitive to avoid mangling a sentence, split away.

So, learn the grammar rules, but then learn how to break them. Effectively.

5. Copy Your Writing Heroes — Literally

Pick a writer you’ve always admired, even envied. Now, put pen to paper and rewrite exactly what they wrote by hand. Don’t think too hard about it. Just go with it.

As you write out their words, you’ll absorb their writing style, their pace and rhythm, their grammar, their word choice, and their sentence structure.

This is one of the most effective ways to sharpen your writing skills and inspire your own writing voice.

6. Read Your Way to Writing Stardom

Every great writer is a great reader. There are no exceptions.

Read daily.

Read fiction and biographies, or read books, blogs and articles. But read in an active way. Stay alert to what grabs your attention and how the writer has crafted his words. Then consciously apply the best techniques to your own writing process.

A Final Word on Writing Prompts

The purpose of a writing prompt is to kickstart your creativity and spur you into writing something… anything.

Initially, the process may seem a little intimidating. But that’s OK. Most writers draw a blank when they first start with writing prompts.

Keep pushing through, because something thrilling will start to happen.

The more you practice using the prompts in this post, the more your creative juices will flow, and the more words and ideas will start pouring out of you.

So, let yourself go. Abandon yourself to the power of writing prompts and let the magic happen.

Happy writing!

The post Stuck? Try These 72 Creative Writing Prompts (+ 6 Bonus Tips) appeared first on Smart Blogger.

from SEO and SM Tips https://smartblogger.com/creative-writing-prompts/