#ibwhellospringday3

[supernaturallymarvellous]

Diner Daydreams (Day 3 of Hello Spring 2020)

Title: Diner Daydreams

Summary: It’s a hot, sticky day in Scotty’s Diner.  She should be able to enjoy herself but Y/N’s mind is distracted by thoughts of Jim Kirk.  

Author: @supernaturallymarvellous

Characters: Jim Kirk x Reader, Scotty

Word Count: 486

Warnings: None

A/N: @itsbuckysworld is hosting a new challenge - Hello Spring 2020 (check it out here). The prompt for Day 3 is “50s Diner AU”

Tag Lists are also open for this series of fics - characters to be decided as I get inspired by each prompt.  Actually tag lists are open for all my work so just send me an ask!

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The neon lights seemed to pulse and swirl all around.  The air was thick with the scent of grease, mixed with the sickly sweetness of strawberries and cream.  Music pumped through the speakers dotted around the room and couples danced together, twisting into shapes that seemed almost impossible to Y/N as she sat in a booth at the back of the diner.  She’d never been that coordinated and was, quite frankly, glad that she didn’t have anyone to dance with.  Content to simply sit quietly and absorb the atmosphere around her, Y/N finally, afters months of disruption and stress, felt at ease.

It had been a strange time.  All around her, there seemed to have been so many changes.  Her best friend had recently gotten married and whilst she couldn’t be happier for Nyota, there was also a tiny spark of jealousy lodged deep inside her heart.  It wasn’t as though she’d be able to find the same level of happiness anytime soon, not with her track record when it came to dating.  No, the opportunities for love in this tiny, middle of nowhere community had been thoroughly explored and not a single option had proved to be anything other than a brief dalliance, a temporary distraction from the crippling loneliness Y/N felt acutely as she watched others find love.

As if perfectly timed to tear her away from her despondent thoughts, a large milkshake was slid towards Y/N.  “I figured you could use this.  Nothing says comfort food like a big double chocolate milkshake.”  Looking up, Y/N saw the friendly smiling face of the diner’s owner, Scotty.

“Cheer up, lassie.  We can’t have you looking all sad, not on such a sunny day.  You should be out there with your pals, perhaps finding a young man to have some fun with….although I have to admit that the air conditioning in here is a godsend in this heat!”

Y/N laughed.  Scotty always did know what to say in order to pull her out of a funk.  “Well, as always, Scotty, you’re right.  I just wish that there was someone worth having fun with.  It’s not exactly like there are that many options.”

One of Scotty’s eyebrows quirked upwards.  “You know, young Jimmy Kirk’s back in town – I always thought the two of you would make a very fine couple.”

“Jim’s back?!  When did he get back?”  Y/N stood up, leaving her milkshake all but forgotten.  Excitement coursed through her veins, the likes of which she hadn’t felt for longer than she cared to remember.  

Pushing open the door, Y/N felt the air around her crackle with electricity as the holodeck disconnected her session.  She’d coded the system to alert her the instant that Jim and his team had beamed back abroad the Enterprise after their most recent mission.  And now that he was back, perhaps she’d put her long hidden feelings for the Captain into action.

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Tagging: @ibwhellowriting   @waywardimpalawriter   @zepppie   @helvonasche @81mysteriouslyme

[captainamericasbeard]

Sweet Marie

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Ladies Man Bucky. He’ll be the end of us all.

Summary: Bucky is the ultimate playboy, a new girl every time he came into the diner. Can he shake his persona and win Marie’s heart?

A/N:  This is my Day 3 entry for @ibwhellowriting ‘s 31 day Hello Spring Challenge. Its also dedicate to my dearest friend and ultimate Bucky’s girl @buckywantsplums .

Prompt: 50′s Diner AU

Bucky Barnes was what Marie liked to call a playboy. He was in her diner 5 nights a week with some new girl hanging off his arm. He’d buy them burgers and milkshakes and they’d make moon eyes at each other for a couple of hours before Bucky walked them home. What he did with them after that was a question Marie didn’t want answered.

Truth was, Marie liked Bucky. She liked his cheeky grin and boyish good looks. She liked his bright blue eyes and they way he looked at her with them. No matter how many girls Bucky brought in, he always wanted Marie as his waitress. He’d call her Sweet Marie and throw her a wink when his date wasn’t looking. She knew he was no good but she couldn’t help the way her heart fluttered at the nickname or how her stomach did flips when he’d wink at her over his shoulder.

The diner was quiet tonight and Marie liked it that way. She was catching up on cleaning, chatting with some of her regular patrons, and just generally enjoying herself. She was wearing a new skirt and had pinned her fiery red hair up on her head. She felt good, until Bucky walked in all alone. Uh oh, what’s he up to? she had to wonder. Bucky never came in alone. If there wasn’t a girl stuck to his side then his best friend Steve was in tow.

“Evening, Sweet Marie. You got a table for me?” Bucky asked, leaning on the counter and smiling with those soft pink lips she couldn’t stop thinking about.

“What, no date tonight, Bucky?” Marie asked, dropping her cleaning rag into a bucket and grabbing a menu and a set of silverware. She led him over to his usual corner booth.

“Not tonight, sweetheart. Though I do have a girl on my mind.” Bucky said coyly, “wanna hear about her?”

“I certainly do not,” Marie answered as she set the menu and silverware down. “Give me a wave when you know what you want,” she said turning away. Bucky grabbed her hand and pulled her in close.

“I know exactly what I want,” Bucky said. Marie wriggled her hand out of his grasp and put it on her hip. She wasn’t having any of Bucky’s nonsense tonight.

“Yeah? And what’s that,” she asked with a glare.

“You. Go on a date with me, Sweet Marie?” Bucky asked.

Marie stood dumbfounded for a moment and her face softened thinking about handsome Bucky Barnes. But then she came to her senses.

“Go on a date with you?” Marie said. She figured she should let her head do the talking on this one. “Bucky, I have pies in my case older than your last relationship. I’m not just gonna be another one of your girls that you go out with once and never see again. And I don’t know what you think you’d be getting from me but you can put that thought right out of your head.” Marie spouted off, a little loudly. A few of the closer patrons stopped talking to try and hear what the fuss was all about. Susan, another one of the waitresses, walked over to see how she could help. “Susan will be taking your order tonight.” Marie snapped and started to walk away. “Aw come on sweetheart, it’s not like that.” Bucky said

“Then prove it,” Marie challenged and she stormed off to the other end of the diner and stayed there until Bucky left.

It was a few days before Bucky dared to come around the diner again. This time it was just him and Steve.

“Evening Marie, got a table for me and my friend here?” Bucky asked politely.

“Evening Steve, Bucky. Follow me.” She led them to their usual booth, dropped off their menus, and walked back to the counter, taking a few deep breathes along the way. A few minutes later she was back to take their order, turning to Steve first.

“Just a burger and fries please,” Steve answered handing his menu back to Marie. She turned to Bucky with her lips pursed into a thin line.

“First of all, I’d just like to say I’m sorry for the other night. I was cocky and rude and I apologize.” Marie nodded her head and her features softened. She certainly hadn’t been expecting an apology. “Second, yes I will,” Bucky said staring her down with those piercing eyes.

“Will what?” Marie asked confused.

“I’ll prove it to you. That you’re the only girl for me, the only one I want to take out and treat right and walk home at the end of the night.” Bucky said it so simply and with such sincerity that Marie was taken back.

“Alright then,” was all she could think to say. She started to turn to walk away when she heard Bucky’s Ahem.

“And I’ll have a cup of coffee and a slice of pie. Dealer’s choice.” Bucky said, his eyes twinkling.

“Of course. Be right up,” Marie said. In just a few minutes she was back at the table with Steve’s food and Bucky’s coffee and pie- chocolate cream, his favourite. She wasn’t heartless after all.

And that’s how it went for the next few months. Bucky would come in with Steve, never a girl. He dropped the act and was kind and sincere. He opened up to her about his family and his sister he was taking care of while their mother worked two jobs. Steve would embarrass Bucky with stories from their childhood. And Marie learned to relax around Bucky and see him for who he truly was, not just the womanizing front he had put on so many times.

Bucky hadn’t been in the diner in a few nights and Marie was starting to worry. Was there something wrong with his sister? Or had he gone back to his old ways, finding another diner to take pretty girls to? It was almost closing time and most of the patrons had left. Marie was wiping down tables and sweeping the floors when the tinkling of the bell above the door alerted her to another customer. She looked up to find Bucky standing on the threshold, looking especially handsome in a new suit. He had his hair slicked back and one hand hidden behind his back. There was something else though, something under the surface. Marie realized he looked nervous.

Bucky stepped forward and revealed a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  Marie looked at him in disbelief.

“Marie, Sweet Marie, I hope I’ve proved to you how I feel about you. I think you’re funny and smart and you’re the only girl I wanna be with, forever really. These flowers are for you but they’re nowhere near as beautiful as you are. Can I please take you out on a date.” Marie was stunned by his speech. She searched her heart and realized since she’d gotten to know him there as no other man for her. She nodded her head yes and Bucky whopped. He gave her a swift peck on the cheek and handed her the flowers.

“Can we start by me walking you home?” Bucky asked hopefully.

“Absolutely,” Marie said as she untied her apron. She tossed it into the laundry and called out, “I’m taking off a few minutes early!” to Susan who was in the backroom. Bucky held the door open for Marie and extend his arm towards her. She gladly hooked her arm into his and rested her head on his shoulder as they walked down the sidewalk towards her home.

[ciarawritesmarvel]

unwanted letters - steve rogers x reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k (I said it’d be longer!)

Warnings: Now, this is kind of angsty but more in a hurt/comfort way if that makes sense, it’s all set around Infinity War, NO ENDGAME REFERENCES

A/N: Day Three of Hello Spring by @ibwhellospring! This one is a little different, containing some letters, some sort of angst, some IW realness and some bittersweetness. I hope you enjoy, I think I might quite like this one for once! Please do let me know what you think, my loves :)

Prompt: Goodbye Letters

masterlist is in my bio, tags will be in a reblog. please drop me an ask to be tagged in bucky, steve or all hello spring pieces! enjoy! <3

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You sat on your bed. You were cold, you noticed vaguely, but it was hardly something to worry about. Your feet were planted firmly on the floor and every now and then a thought would come and go and your hands would fist themselves in the blankets on the bed before relaxing again like it had never happened. Your eyes were trained on the wall, your focus hazy, your senses dimmed.

This was it. This was it.

“Y/N?”

You didn’t jump at the intrusion. You slowly brought your focus back as best you could and turned your head to face Steve. He looked...beaten down. But not beaten. Not yet. As long as he wasn’t beaten, you weren’t either, and you cradled that thought to your chest as if it were something precious.

“Hi Steve.”

“Hi.”

A silence, and though you and Steve had many of those in your time together this one was uncomfortable. Any time with one’s thoughts now was a bad time. You needed to save him from his thoughts, and you from yours.

“Is everyone ready?”

“I wouldn’t say they’re ready,” he admitted, wandering up to the bed and sitting down on it next to you, “But they’re still here. That’s all I could ask, and even that’s too much.”

“Don’t put this on yourself. This one’s on all of us.”

He nodded. It was clear he knew you were right but whether that would help his brain out was a different question entirely. He brought his gaze up from the floor to you and you held it, not backing down.

“I had a thought,” he said suddenly and you worried about that. Thoughts were dangerous now, that you’d already established. Still, you kept your face calm for him. Always for him.

“Hm?”

“I just-“ he paused and took a moment and you reached over and grasped his hand in yours, an unspoken source of comfort. He instantly began tracing familiar patterns into the back of your hand, the lines he’d walked so many times, the lines carved into your skin. It was a comfort to you both and enough for him to continue, albeit with a lump in his throat, “I just don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. And I don’t wanna talk about it. So I thought maybe, we could write letters? To each other. In case-“

He trailed off and you were glad. The words he was about to say were some that you were ready to hear. But his idea was sweet and thoughtful and a perfect way to express everything that could not be said in words today without tears and broken promises.

You could see the worry in his eyes, the self conscious spark that told him what he’d just said was a stupid idea, that he’d made a terrible suggestion. You squeezed his hand tighter.

“I’d love that, Steve,” you said, soft and loving, “I can’t say it either.”

He let out a shaky breath that you took as one of relief, relief that you were both in the same place right now. That you couldn’t say it. However much you both wanted to say everything, tell each other everything, you couldn’t. And that was okay.

“We have paper,” he said, standing from the bed and reaching into the cupboard, your hands dropping from each other’s and your own dropping back onto the bed with a grounding thud, “We should do it now.”

We don’t have much time.

The unspoken sentence that hung in the air as if it had been said nonetheless. You nodded in agreement, taking paper from him and one of the pens too.

When you were last in Wakanda, it had been a visit to see Bucky and you and Steve had stayed in this very same room. The three of you had talked until the early hours of the morning, walked through the busy streets, sat and ate in the peaceful fields.

One morning, Steve had woken up first, but far earlier than usual. It was the day you were due to say goodbye to Bucky and head back to a life of constant running and so he was keen to take this morning slowly, to savour it. He took in your form slowly too. Hair splayed out across the pillow, mouth hanging slightly open, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He smiled. Fell a little more in love.

He searched the room for something to do and found a cupboard full of random items, some unfamiliar board games, some coffee mugs, some files. But more intriguing to Steve was the wad of paper on the top shelf and the pot of pens and pencils standing beside it. Without much thinking, he had stolen a pencil and a few pieces of paper, settled himself in the corner armchair and began to draw you with a painstaking attention to detail. His eyes flickered between you and his page and the corners of his lips drifted upwards in a subconscious smile.

You’d woken around two hours later, blinking rapidly to adjust to the sunlight that streamed through the translucent curtains. Finding Steve sketching you had been a delightful surprise and you agreed to say in the same position until he’d finished. It had been a small moment, but one that had stuck with the both of you ever since.

It was for this reason that Steve had known exactly where the paper and pens were.

He stood up from the bed and walked almost past you, but as he was in front of you he stopped and leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head that had you closing your eyes, his hand pressed against your cheek. When you opened your eyes, he had gone, clearly deciding to write elsewhere which a part of you couldn’t help but be glad about.

You shuffled over to the desk by the window and placed down the paper, slumping into the chair with a muffled sigh. Beginning to think of possibilities of how to write the words scarred onto your heart, you stopped yourself. This wasn’t a time for thinking.

My Steve,

For the majority of my life, I firmly believed that I would end up alone, that I would never find anyone to spend my life with, to have, hold, love and cherish. It was only as soon as I accepted that it was okay to be on my own that I found you. I’m sorry I didn’t accept that sooner. Maybe we would’ve had more time. You’d tell me not to think like that, I know, but I have to say it. You have to know how much time I wish we’d had.

If you’re reading this and I’m not sat beside you then...pretend I am. I’m always beside you anyway. You’ll cry, I know, but don’t cry for too long. Lean on the others. Let them lean on you. I always think you heal the best when you’re focused on helping other people. You’re so damn selfless. It’s one of the only things I don’t like about you. You’re not careful enough with yourself.

I’m still beside you, so now imagine me punching you on the arm. Hard. A reminder not to beat yourself up if I’m gone. It won’t be your fault. I know you’ll do everything in your incredible power to make sure I get out of this and I’ll be doing the same for you so nothing will be your fault. Nothing. Never think any differently.

Steven Grant Rogers. I love you. I love you more than any other in this or any universe. You mean everything to me. You always have. Ever since you showed up on that helicarrier in your brown leather jacket and your checkered blue shirt and your fresh baby face. When you shook my hand with that tiny smile that told me we were going to get along. You meant everything to me when we stayed up all night talking about our pasts. You meant everything to me when you started bringing me my cuppa every morning without a word. You meant everything to me when I kissed you. When you kissed me back. When we finally, actually got together. When you told me you loved me. When you asked me to marry you. When we actually got married.

You mean everything to me now and forever.

But if I’m not there, then don’t let me mean everything to you forever. You must push on. Fight on. It’s one of the main things I so love about you. One of so many things.

In conclusion: I love you, I love you, I love you.

Be selfish,

Your Y/N

By the time you had finished, some of the ink had been smudged by the tears that had dropped onto the page but the writing was legible enough and without rethinking or rewording what had come from your very core, you folded up the paper and wrote Steve’s name on the front in your best cursive. You blinked back your remaining tears, breathing deeply through your nose to slow the overwhelming emotion down.

It wasn’t long, a mere hour, before you and Steve were stood side by side on the peaceful fields that were now minutes away from becoming a bloody battlefield. You reached into a concealed pocket in your suit and handed Steve your letter to which he retrieved his own and handed it to you. You wanted to say something but it seemed like he did too and still he didn’t have the words. You pushed yourself up using a hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek, his beard scratching ever so slightly. When you pulled away and saw his eyes closed you felt a wave of peace roll over you unexpectedly.

You could fight now.

And for Steve? You’d sure as hell win.

---

Dearest Y/N,

Sometimes I’m not the best with words, as you know, and I struggle to articulate how I feel. Not right now. The emotion, the feelings that I have repressed for so long, I can feel them again, bubbling ominously up to the surface. You bring it out in me. I’ve never known if it was a good or bad thing.

In the spirit of sharing feelings, here’s another: I’m scared. As I write this my hand is shaking with a vigour I’ve never known. I’m scared of dying, I’m scared of leaving you, I’m scared of never building the life we’ve talked about for so long and will never build anyway. More than any of these though, I am terrified of losing you. I can’t imagine moving on, recovering. But you have to now, if you’re reading this. Which sounds hypocritical. But you just do. I feel like you’ll be cry-laughing right now.

You have always grounded me. When I was completely lost in a new world, you grounded me. I know you still talk about my leather jacket from when we met, tell people how lost I looked in it, how old I looked. I still remember your pencil skirt and jacket, still remember completely underestimating you, another suit with no real experience. But then I became infatuated with you on the battlefield and fell in love with you in the quiet moments in between.

If I’m not there, then that’s okay. You’ll be fine. I’m an old man now, sweetheart, and it had to happen someday. As long as you are safe and warm and living and breathing then I have done my job. I will have done my duty. And I won’t have any regrets.

I came out of the ice a broken man who didn’t know he was broken. I met you and my world changed. Not instantly, but slowly, as your influence seeping into every aspect of my life and every part of me as a person. You have made me stronger, wiser, tougher, better. And because you’ve made me so strong and so wise, I am wise enough now to know that you will be just as strong without me as you are with me. I’ll be holding your hand and tracing my fingers along your veins for as long as you will let me, there or not.

I love you, baby. So much.

Be strong,

Steve

Your tears were unstoppable, trailing down your cheeks and leaving ugly streaks in their wake as you hiccuped and covered your mouth with your hand, wiping your nose and face and trying to stay as quiet as possible, your breathing stuttered and laboured. Steve never spoke like this. He was loving, yes, but never sentimental as such. He struggled to put it into words.

But this? This was beautiful. Hence the tears.

You were sat up in your double bed in Wakanda, alone. It was the middle of the night, maybe 3am, you weren’t sure anymore. The past two months of time had blended into minute after minute, second after second of pain, regret and an overwhelming sadness. They’d lost. What else was left?

With half the population of the universe gone, just like that, so easy and so simple, everyone was left in different states. Jaded. Devastated. Bitter. Angry. Lost.

You thought you were currently in the numb stage. Nothing seemed to matter, sleep evaded you and you could stay awake for hours and hours just staring at the ceiling and thinking about...nothing. Like there was nothing to think about anymore.

Apparently, reading this letter had broken whatever dam of emotion you had created, you thought, as you sniffled and blinked rapidly to unstick your sodden lashes.

You heard footsteps, soft but still there, outside your room coming towards it and your eyes widened in fear, desperately trying to rid yourself of any sign of your tears, of your sorrow. The door opened slowly after a few seconds and he tiptoed in, closing the door as quietly as he could. He stopped when he turned and saw you sat up, paper in hand, face puffy and eyes bloodshot.

“Y/N?” Steve said, and it was a question but one that he already knew the answer of. It was too much. Your sobs started anew, your face contorting in a new kind of pain and Steve was quick to run to your side, climbing into bed and tugging you into his arms as you wept. You’d held him more times than you could count over the past few months as he cried and cried and cried. He thought it was wrong that he was grateful to be able to return the favour.

He whispered soothing words into your ear and stroked your hair back from your face and held you fiercely, without question. It took minutes upon minutes for you to slowly calm down, for your breathing to even out as your head rested on his chest.

“You read the letter?” he said, and it came out hoarse to which you reared back from him to see that he had been crying too. You wiped his eyes with shaking hands.

“I was looking for your sleeping pills,” you said in a whisper, not trusting your voice to be any louder, “It was in your dressing table. I couldn’t...I just wanted to...”

Steve placed both his hands on either side of your face, holding you gently.

“It’s okay,” he said sincerely, eyes flicking between both your eyes, “It’s okay.”

“We got so lucky, Steve,” you say tentatively, hands coming up to cover his own that still held your face, “But I don’t feel lucky. We still lost.”

To anyone else, that may have been taken the wrong way, but Steve knew exactly what you were saying, as usual. Of course, you were beyond glad that the both of you had survived, were together, could go to bed at night and sleep in each others’ arms. But you couldn’t. Because neither of you could even sleep.

“I don’t either,” he admitted solemnly, “But I think...one day we might. Feel lucky.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, leaning forward until your forehead was resting against his chest, “One day.”

He rested his chin on top of your head, arms wrapping around your shoulders, as yours clung around his waist.

Now wasn’t the time to worry about one day. Just now, holding each other’s broken pieces together was enough to worry about. It was a job you both took very seriously. It was a job you were determined to do right.

“I love you,” Steve said suddenly, full of meaning and weight and promises. Those three words were all the two of you really had left now.

“I love you too, Steve.”

[beckzorz]

in his words

characters: Winter Soldier & Reader words: 565 warnings: forced suicide

Day 3: goodbye letters from @ibwhellospring‘s Spring Short Story Writing Event

You chew on the end of your pen. What, exactly, is there to say?

“What are you waiting for?”

The soldier nudges the barrel of his rifle against your spine, but you’re in no hurry. Even his clipped, strangely accented voice feels distant right now.

All that’s on your page so far is I can’t. It’s not enough for the soldier.

“Get writing.”

You shrug and glance at him over your shoulder. What you can see of his face is stern, with a sharp line between his brows. He looks so out of place in your kitchen, with its faded aqua cabinets and chintzy tea towels. He’s all in black, from the mask covering his nose and mouth to the strappy leather jacket crisscrossed with holsters to his pants, the pads on his knees, his combat boots.

“I don’t know what to say,” you tell him. “I’ve never wanted to kill myself.”

He sighs. It’s the most emotion you’ve felt from him—you can’t say seen, not when his whole face is hidden from view and the light’s out. You can barely read what you’ve written, let alone read the emotions in his shadowed eyes.

“Write this,” he says. He lowers the rifle a little, two of his fingers twitching against the grip.

You rub your temple, pick up your pen.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he says.

You write.

do this anymore.

You press hard on the period, almost hard enough to tear the paper. It leaves an indent in the page, one you can feel when you run a trembling finger over the soldier’s words.

“My life is eating me alive.”

My life is eating me alive.

“I can’t take it.”

I can’t…

His voice is less steady than before. Your pen slows.

“I’m sorry that I let you down.”

… take it.

He jabs his gun against your shoulder blade.

“Write,” he barks.

I’m sorry that I let you down.

“Can I ask a question?” you try.

“No.” His breathing is heavier now. “Just… write.”

But he doesn’t say anything else. You wait, pen dangling from your fingers, mind racing. A minute passes, then another, and you dare to try again.

“Do you feel like that?”

He doesn’t answer. There’s a clatter, and you turn around to see he’s dropped his mask to the linoleum floor. One hand scrubs along his face. A single shudder runs through him as you watch. His rifle is as lax in his other hand as your pen is in yours.

Two tools. Which is stronger? There’s the saying about the pen and the sword, but you’ve never heard anyone talk about guns.

“Write,” he says. His voice is rough, hoarse. He crouches, rifle trained back on you, and fixes his mask back onto his face. “Don’t—just write.”

You turn back to your page, eyes blurring. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“Then you’re done.” He puts the barrel of the rifle against your neck, pushing you up from the chair. Ten familiar steps to your bedroom, pills forced down your throat, and then you lie down and wait to die.

He hovers over you, his eyes scanning your face as your mind begins to haze. They’re light eyes, you realize. Blue. Baby blue.

“I feel like that,” he whispers. “Every damn day I feel like that.”

You open your mouth, but you can’t answer.

It’s too late.

[notimetoblog]

Goodbye

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Category:  Fluff

Warnings: mostly fluff, but some of it may be considered angsty [just a dash] :D

Day 3: Goodbye Letters from @ibwhellospring ‘s Spring Short Story Writing Event [hosted by @itsbuckysworld ]. 

A/N: I’ve been loving getting to write these!! Thank you so much for reading!

 Bucky knew he wasn’t the most eloquent man. More often than not he would find himself tripping over his words, speaking in circles, and never getting to where he hoped. The right word always seemed to be just out of arms reach.

  This changed as soon as he let himself pour his thoughts not in spoken words, but in written form. Notebook after notebook he filled with his thoughts, his hopes, his fears, his dreams.

  While on the run, he had no one to speak to. He would not allow himself to trust anyone, fearing that if he allowed himself to grow close to anyone the nightmarish past, he had left behind would catch up with him.

 So, alone in whatever place in the world he found himself he wrote.

 Even after reuniting with Steve, Bucky still found solace in his notebooks. Jotting down small improvements he noted, his own small form of celebration.

  These notes had simply begun as bullet points littering the pages of his notebooks. Barely any detail included in them. Simply meant for a quick reference in case he ever wanted to see how far he had progressed.

But slowly they transformed into something more. Slowly they became more descriptive, more sentimental, more emotional.

  They weren’t simply bullet points anymore, they were goodbye letters to his past. He wasn’t saying ignoring his past, not denying his past, he was letting it go. Choosing to allow himself a chance of a future, one that wasn’t painfully haunted by his past, but one where he was deserving of happiness.

  It was impossible to fight the smile that spread on his lips as he put his pen down, a brand-new letter written before him. It was the first letter in a new notebook, a new beginning.

  In the nicest penmanship he could muster, the letter read:

   Today I say goodbye to something I had hoped to move past for a while now. For years, my life seemed empty. Simply full of snapshots of violence, pain, and cold. I had become convinced that nothing more could fill my life. That I would only know what they had shown me. But today I feel different. Today, I can say, being as honest as I have ever been, that my life can be full of so much more.

  Today, I say goodbye to the thought that I could never be loved. I say goodbye to the idea that I wasn’t worthy of it. I say goodbye to that empty feeling in my heart.

  Something’s happened. Not so much one large event, but tons of small moments that have led me to finally be able to say goodbye to this thought. So many moments, that I’m afraid I’d be writing for years before I go through all of them.

  One moment does stand out from the rest, though. A moment that I often replay in my mind, one that brings a smile to my face. I have a smile on my face right now as I wrote this, in fact.

  She stood by my side, whispering small comments here and there about the people that walked by us. Simple comments meant to be silly. Her giggles, though, took my breath away. The way those giggles made her eyes light up. She is always beautiful, but when she laughs, god when she laughs, its like I’m staring right into the face of an angel. I didn’t know I was capable of it, but soon enough I joined her with my own fit of giggles, and I knew right then and there that she was the one. The one stole my heart. The only one for me.

  I write this with a desperate need to go find her, to tell her how I feel. But that confession can only come after I say goodbye to the thought that I couldn’t be loved. Because I can see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice, feel it in her touch. I love her as much as she loves me, and to finally say that is the best feeling in the world.

  I love her, and it’s time I finally let her know.

[buckys-old-habits]

Goodbye

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Category: Angst Warnings: Mention of sickness and death Word Count: 718

Day 3: Goodbye letters from @ibwhellospring ‘s Spring Short Story Writing Event.

He knocks on the door but it stays silent behind it. Bucky pushes the door open and a heavy atmosphere greets him. No smiling you, no speaking from the television, no music, just silence. 

He feels the unsettling feeling in his stomach grow and slowly he steps into the room. It looks like you just left a minute ago, your clothes were thrown about the floor, a book laying open on the bed and the door to the connected bathroom open. “(y/n)?”

Still, no answer and Bucky surveys the room, his blue eyes settling on a white letter at your desk in the corner. 

It's simple but he feels that it would have a big impact on him. He considers turning around and continues searching for you but something draws him to the envelope.

He takes a seat on your desk chair and with shaking hands he opens the letter, pulling out the paper. 

Bucky recognizes your handwriting scrawled across the paper. You wrote with the fountain pen he gave you for Christmas. Sometimes you left a blue big spot on the white paper, seemingly thinking about the next words.

Taking a deep shaky breath he starts to read the letter directed at him. With every word his chest constricted and in the end he doesn't know how to breathe anymore, tears gathering in his eyes and his hands shaking more than ever.

Hey handsome, to be honest, I don't know how to start this letter.

You are probably really confused to why I dedicated this to you and why you can't find me in my room or the compound. I can see the frown etched on your face and let me say, it's adorable.

But sadly that's not the point of this letter. (And no, this is not a prank Sam and I came up with.)

I really don't know how to say that and I'm sorry that I'm too afraid to speak to you in person. I know that you would be angry with me, telling me to think about it. That we will overcome this together... But that's not the case here... I'm really, really sorry.

I thought about this a long, long time, I considered everything and I know you are confused about what. I should have told you, I really should have. But you were on the best way to feel better and I didn't want to take this away from you. (In hindsight this might be bad too...)

I- I'm sick, Buck. The doctor told me and I saw my world crashing down, he told me that there is no cure and it will be a very painful process. I hate pain, you know that. And I hate feeling like every day could be my last. I don't want to die... I want to live. But that's not an option here.

I'm so sorry, but I took the path that would be the best for me. It seems selfish, not telling you, only leaving a letter and now saying that I don't want to be here anymore.

I love you! Please believe that. I love you so, so much. And I would be more than happy to stay by your side.

I saw the box and the ring in your drawer. (I'm sorry, I peeked...) And I would love to say 'yes' and get married to you, you beautiful gentle man. But fate played another game and I want to take the route where I don't hurt too many people.

I know you think that you would have helped me, cared for me. But I don't want you clinging to me, a lost and sick cause, a burden to your well being. As I said, it sounds selfish and maybe it is, but...

I love you and I choose to let you go. Please let me go too, live your newfound life and be happy, find someone worthy to live for. And don't be mad at Steve (yes, he knew), he kept it to himself because I begged him too.

This may be the last time I can say goodbye to you. James Buchanan Barnes, I love you, always will, and I'm so happy that you choose me for the time I could stay by your side.

With adoration, your (y/n)

[itsbuckysworld]

HELLO SPRING DAY 3

Pairing: none romantic, but the implication and interaction is bucky x reader as almost all of these will be.

Category: none, kinda angsty?

Warnings: One curse word. 

Word Count: 1012

(Wrote this on mobile as I’m away on a trip. Could edit it a bit on my cousin’s computer but I’ll link this proper and add the banners when im back home)

——— this is part of the same universe from my piece for day 1 of the hello spring event this is basically part one for that piece ———

Day 3: Goodbye Letters, for my Spring Short Story Writing Event

“James

Being safe and practical was always our thing. That being said I won’t dance around the fact that this is a goodbye letter.

How uncharacteristic of me us. But I guess the time we’ve spent together demands I at least tell you the truth: that being, it’s been the most fun, the most amazing set of missions. You have been a wonderful teamm partner. In every way...”

Mid-June Quinjet over Pacific Ocean 6:45 AM

Heavy head, tired limbs, deep breaths to keep everything in. The sound of the engines roaring and sputtering as the carrier shook only slightly, but otherwise a pretty still and smooth ride overseas, with the background getting brighter and brighter as the morning began on this side of the world.

Bucky looked up from the box in his hand. It mocked him, all blue and grey and filled with memories he had kept only because… well why not? He’s always been keen on holding on to memories. Getting your brain messed around with, forgetting who you are, does that to you. Whatever you can keep and grasp for more than a day’s time, you want to keep and grasp. Names, places, scents, feelings, letters.

He knew the moment he brought them up half of him would regret it, but the other half knew it was the best given the situation. Finally, there was a reason to bring them up. Steve, bless his heart, could still read him like a book in most regards, but it surprised him to see Bucky could keep such secrets from him. He was glad, it meant he was more normal and he knew Bucky wanted normal — however normal their job was and allowed you to be — so he appreciated it when his exhausted friend brought forth his discovery, with discomfort in his eyes and already bracing for the worst.

Something the soldier regretted was letting anyone read the letters. As non-descriptive as they were, some words are underlined with too much emotion. Too much anyone could see from miles.

“We’re almost there” Sam had said towards the intercom, letting Stark know the status of the mission, the quinjet trembling, or maybe those were just Bucky’s legs, boots clicking over the metal.

“Good luck finding… wow, I’m sorry I just can’t believe the Manchurian Candidate has an ex”

“Shut the fuck up, Tony” Bucky groaned and grumbled, turning around to put down the box and return to sharpening his knife some more, maybe the motion and the sight would intimidate the three clearly mocking men that were on his back right now — they found his stress amusing, great teammates they were.

“Hey, language!” Sam rolled his eyes at Cap’s obviously joking line, but stopped the dumb giggles nonetheless.

Steve’s hand, usually comforting, was heavy and filled Bucky with nerves this time around, as he knew deep down they were nearing closer to a pandora box he didn’t know he wanted to open — false. He wanted to. He was just terrified of the results, of what whatever was left in the box had turned into over the years — “at least we have a lead on some help” Steve concluded and the call was finalised after Tony asked the trio to keep him updated.

“[...]

Maybe, who knows, I’ll see the world, eat something yummy that will make me sick the next day, learn a new language, see another world in some stranger’s face.

Whatever it is… whatever we talked about those awful yet fun cold nights… maybe that, maybe nothing at all

[…]”

The letter said, and while too much was underlined with clear emotion anyone could read into, there were bits that were for him. He knew that. Plaster the letter everywhere in the world: Only Bucky would know where to look, what to read, decipher the words that hung so heavy in his memories and start a quest worthy of that detective in the books.

“Beginning our descent to Osaka, Japan” the robotic voice announced, and Bucky found the trip incredibly short, despite it being around 7+ hours. Another lead, another stop, another location checked off the list in the all too intense search — intense for Bucky, after all, captain america always seemed to look well rested, even now. Even after so long —

He was ready as he would be, but under the strong facade and steely look of determination, he just knew that no amount of time would ease the nerves completely. Sometimes he didn’t want the nerves to go. They reminded him of a lot.

His hair was pulled back in a bun, and he let it go, having it waterfall down his face, exchanging his tactical gear jacket for an old one he’s owned since… well, he doesn’t remember. A black hat placed firmly on his head, helping cover the recognizable features that would give him away to the wrong people and at the same time make him and his silhouette too damn familiar to the right person, just how it should be. How it used to be. Hands deep in his pockets he keeps a strong fist around the circular plastic shape he’d digged in there before leaving New York the day prior.

Lead the way, Steve had said, and all Bucky could do was nod silently, jaw clenching and fingers suddenly cold. Only he could lead the way, sniff the tracks like a police dog on the hunt. As he stepped foot on Japanese soil, he could feel it in his bones he was going to find something, he just wasn’t yet sure it was going to be familiar or not, wanted or not, if it was going to be success or a bigger downfall than it had been years ago. The memories were vivid, and he knew the details, no matter how murky or bad, they meant something to a past him, and could aid him today.

Please, he softly said under his breath, a mere whisper not even seventeen super serums could make Steve hear, please be there.

feedback is greatly appreciated and encouraged!! Thank you for reading sorry for the delay. Read day one, this piece is in that same universe. This is part one to that.

[countess-rosegold-blog]

Letters

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader , Tony Stark x Reader

Warning/s: Possibly heartbreaking 

Word Count: 827

Note/s: This isn’t exactly part two but this is for you, @yourpal-yourbuddy-yourbuckyy <3 This is related to One Broken, One Lost so check that out for anyone who’s interested. Thank you for reading!

Prompt: Day 3: Goodbye letters from @itsbuckysworld / @ibwhellospring ‘s Spring Short Story Writing Event

April 4, 2016

Dear Y/N,

I always wanted to write you a letter, back when times were different. Back when my only problem was how I could tell you everything I felt about you. Simpler times.

Now I wish I didn’t have to write this, but I just can’t let you go without saying goodbye.

Tony is a mess. He’s a different man.

Please don’t misunderstand; the last thing I want to do is cause you more heartache. But I owe it to you to remind you that you loved this man. And the things he has done, no matter how awful they have been, was because he felt the same for you.

You are my friend. Tony is my friend too, but I’m not defending him.

The things you’ve been through, the loss, I’ll never find the words to come close at making you feel better. But it was Tony’s loss too no matter if he’ll never know about it.

I promised you this and know that Bucky and I will honor that promise. We’ll take this secret to the grave if it comes to that.

But Tony deserves to know. Maybe not now, maybe not even in a few years, but he does. I hope you find it in you to tell him someday.

I love you, Y/N. You’ll always have my heart. If only that can mend the one that’s been broken.

Please take care of yourself always. I know you are your own strong, stubborn mind but you also have Jane. It wouldn’t hurt to listen to her from time to time.

I pray that time will eventually heal all the things that hurt. I pray that you find everything that will help you fill the empty spaces. I will always pray for him. 

Until we meet again.

All my love,

Steve

--

October 11,  2017

“This is stupid.” You say, voice void of any emotion.

You’re standing by the edge of the river, paper in hand. In it is a letter you’ve written over a year ago. Months after…

You shake your head not wanting to dwell on the memory.

Jane takes your free hand and squeezes it. You hate and love her at the same time for the sympathy you see in her eyes.

“You know it isn’t,” she says. “This will hurt. I guarantee you it will. But it will also make you feel better. He deserves this, Y/N, don’t you think?”

He. Something in your chest tightens. He. Jane says it like he’s here, somewhere. As if he exists. But you know she’s right.

You nod, wiping at the tears that you didn’t notice were already falling.

You open the letter and take a deep breath.

“Dear little Anthony,” you begin, voice quivering. Three little words that shatter your heart all over again.

“We’ve never ever really met, but you are and will always be the greatest love of my life.”

“There was a time, a long time ago and in a faraway place, when mommy”--you hiccup and try to hold back a sob--”when mommy and her friends fought the bad guys.”

“Many times we won, but there were also times when we lost. But even when we did, everything turned out okay because we always had each other.”

“It’s so unfair that the one time I needed to win, I didn’t. I lost you.”

“Mommy is super super angry. It’s not a good emotion, your Uncle Bruce might say. But I couldn’t help it.”

“The bad guys winning meant I will never get to meet you, hold you, hug you, hear you laugh, see you smile. There are so many things I will never get to do.”

“I love you, baby, and I always will. I know you’re dad would’ve too, if he knew.”

You break down then, and Jane wraps her arms around you. She’s crying too.

After a while, you break the hug and nod. You can go on. You have to.

“I would’ve given you the world, little one. You deserved it and more.”

“Right now I miss you so bad. Your Aunt Jane says that doesn’t make sense because she knows you’ll always be with me. Well, she always thought she’s the smarter one.” Despite the tears, Jane smiles beside you.

“But this time I guess she’s right. Are you watching over me, baby? I really hope so. Mommy is sad most of the time and these days it really, really hurts so bad.”

“But with you there, I know I’ll be okay. This time hasn’t been kind, but in another life, I’ll give you everything, do whatever it takes to fight for you.”

“I love you, little one. Always and forever.”

The tears come again and you clutch the paper in your chest. You cry, let it all out, and Jane cries with you.

The past year didn’t do anything to ease the pain. But Jane was right. Somehow you feel better.

You look up the sky and smile.

[boom-its-chris]

Dear Mr. Stark...

Pairing: none Category: angst, comfort Warnings: Avengers Endgame spoilers Word Count: 599

Day 3: Goodbye Letters @ibwhellospring ‘s Spring Short Story Writing Event

Dear Mr. Stark,

I know you’ll never read this because you’re already gone, but I need some closure and May suggested I write you a letter, so here we go.

Thank you for literally everything you’ve done for everyone. You’re truly a hero, Mr. Stark. You’ve saved countless lives and the entire universe. I know you’re resting now, which you totally deserve, but I hope you know how grateful I, and many others, are for your sacrifice. You are Earth’s best hero and I don’t know what we will do without you, but I and the other Avengers will certainly try.

Also, thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I honestly still don’t know why you chose to find me and mentor to me back in 2016, but I will be eternally grateful for that. I was a scared, confused kid with powers I would’ve never imagined having, and you helped me become a real hero.

You created amazing suits for me. Every time I wear one, I think of you. Actually, every time I go out on patrol, or team up with the Avengers, I think of you. You’re my biggest inspiration and everyday I hope I can do even a fraction of the good you’ve done. I know I’ll never be able to be just like you, but I try everyday to do better because of you.

I have no clue what to do without you sometimes. I was really lost after the funeral. I couldn’t put on my suit or go out for a while. I even considered giving up being Spider-Man, but I could never sit by and do nothing. I just needed some time to grieve and figure life out. I still have days where the thought passing through my mind, though. Sometimes it’s fear that makes me feel that way, but other times it’s just me feeling hopeless.

You know, I met Morgan at the funeral. She’s so much like you already. Smart, brave, and loving. I have a feeling she’ll be following in your footsteps one day, and I know she’ll be just as great as you. Don’t worry, I’ll be looking out for her. I won’t let her get into too much trouble.

Just so you know, she and Pepper seem to be doing well. May and I go over there for dinner time to time. It’s really nice.

Oh, and school is pretty weird now. Everyone who was dusted is the same age as when they left, but everyone who wasn’t has aged. I see people from my high school around town occasionally but they’re adults. And now we’re going to school with a bunch of kids we don’t know. It’s really weird, but at least my best friends are still with me.

Here’s something I know you’d love to hear, Captain America is super old now. Well, technically there’s a different Captain America now, but you know what I mean. I guess he decided to stay in the past, but now he’s actually like 100 or something. It’s kinda crazy.

I’m actually starting to feel better now. I didn’t think writing this letter would actually help, but I almost feel like I’m ranting about my day to your voicemail all over again. I think I might just pretend I am because then at least I know you’ll see? hear? this.

I’m gonna do the best I can. I’m going to be the best hero, the best student, the best me I can be. I’m gonna try to make you proud, Mr. Stark.

Goodbye for now.

Love, Peter Parker.

Also posted on Ao3

[supernaturallymarvellous]

Goodbye My Lover

Author: @supernaturallymarvellous

Characters: Loki x Reader 

Word Count: 465

Warnings: Little bit ansgsty

A/N: I’m taking part in the Hello Spring 31 Day Fiction Short Story Event being hosted by @itsbuckysworld.  The prompt for Day 3 is “Goodbye Letters”.

Tag Lists are also open for this series of fics - Marvel fandom, characters to be decided as I get inspired by each prompt. 

****************************************************************************************

My Darling,

This is, without a shadow of a doubt, the hardest letter I’ve ever had to write, the hardest goodbye I’ve ever had to say.  It breaks my heart that I can’t do this in person; more than anything, I wish I could sit down with you and explain exactly why I’m taking this course of action – although I think you already know.  

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone.  I am fully aware of what sort of terrible person ends a beautiful relationship such as ours by letter, but trust me when I say that I had very little choice in the matter.  The time we’ve had together has been the very best of my life, and I’m only sorry that I won’t be able to spend my last days with you.  

Let me explain.  Let me try and put into words my reasoning for breaking your heart.  Where I go, you simply can’t follow.  Strictly speaking, I suppose that’s not true; I’ve seen you in battle before, I know exactly how well you can fight!  I should rephrase my original statement.  I can’t let you follow me to a place that only holds the potential for death and destruction.  I won’t allow you to risk life and limb for a creature as unworthy of your love as I am.  Your place is here on earth, standing side by side with that righteous walking symbol of hope and freedom.  I’ve taken the liberty of speaking to the good Captain and he’s assured me that he’ll do everything in his power to keep you safe from harm.  I have to put my faith in him, believe that he’ll keep his promise, because I won’t be around to do what I’m asking him to do.  

My love, I hope that one day you can forgive me for this.  That sometime in the future, you will be able to look back fondly on our time together and remember the good times.  We certainly had those, didn’t we?!  Whether it was fighting side by side, creating chaos for my brother and those insufferable friends of his, or the lazy days we would spend together before the world turned to carnage and pain.  We will always have those memories and what I do now will hopefully buy you some more time to recall them.

I have to go now.  I could sit here for hours and wax lyrical about how much I will miss you and how much my heart is breaking at the thought of leaving you, but none of that will do any good.  The only thing I can do now is have faith that taking on Thanos will be enough to save you.

With all my heart, forever and always.

Love, Loki xx

****************************************************************************************

Tagging:  @ibwhellospring  @waywardimpalawriter    @zepppie     @helvonasche  @xxloki81xx  @mysteriouslyme81

[captainamericasbeard]

Goodbye Letters

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 700 Category: fluff with a pinch of angst Warnings: none

A/N: This is my entry for Day 3 of @ibwhellospring ‘s 31 day short story writing challenge. Today’s prompt was goodbye letters.  I’ll put links for each day on my masterlist if you want to catch up.

Masterlist

You woke up to a beam of sun fighting its way through your curtains and across your face. Brow furrowed you huffed and turned, cramming your head under the pillow. You were slowly drifting back off when you realized the bed beside you was cold and empty. You could have assumed Bucky was in the training room but you knew he wasn’t. One of his goodbye letters lay on his pillow.

Hey Doll, Last minute mission and I couldn’t bear to wake you. Should only be a day or two. Steve will fill you in. You are my whole heart, I’ll be back for you. -Buck

Your mouth pulled down into a frown as you read his words. A mission. Another goodbye letter. You read it over again, short as it was. “You are my whole heart.” He knew how to make you smile even when he wasn’t there.

Slowly you let out an almighty stretch, still clutching the note in your hand. You finally fling the sheet off of you and moved to the closet. Digging through a pile of seldom worn sweaters you pull out a beaten leather journal and move back to the bed. You flip the journal open to the next empty page and tape Bucky’s note into it. A wave of sadness washes over you; you’re missing the feel of that last kiss you know he would have placed on your lips, tender and quiet in the ghostly morning hours when he left. Flipping the pages forward you peruse through past notes, just to hear Bucky’s voice.

Darlin’, I’ll be thinking of you the whole time. All my love, -Buck

My love, My only mission is to get back to you. Take care of my heart while I’m gone. -Buck

And before a particularly long mission-

My one true love, You are my whole world and I’ll carry you with me no matter where I am these next few months. Know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I am coming home to you. -Bucky

Tears filled your eyes at the sight of all the farewells you’ve had to endure. You close the journal, overwhelmed by the sadness of it all. You’d once asked him about the notes. A sunny day a hundred sleeps away from today while you were reading in bed and he was journaling on the couch in your room you’d asked him, “Why do you leave the notes Bucky?”

He looked up at you from his notebook with a quizzical look. You’d pulled him out of his thoughts. “Sorry,” you said, “I’m just curious.”

“Oh, I just can’t stand the thought of leaving you without telling you how I feel. No matter what happens, I want your memories of me to be true to how I feel about you.” He said it casually and with a soft smile but it made your eyes fill with tears and you’d launched yourself at him on the couch, peppering his face with kisses.

Now you had no choice but to let your tears fall silently into your lap as you remember his words. No matter what happens. Anxiety starts to build in your chest and there’s no big, strong, warm Bucky there to pull you from a panic attack.

Until soft footfalls fill the room and the bed dips down beside you. Strong, warm arms wrap around you from behind as hard tactical gear presses against your back. You gasp and twist your head around to look when your lips are captured in a soft kiss.

“Not cryin’ over me, are you doll?” His eyes are tender and filled with concern.

“Oh Bucky.” You twist your body around and gather all of him into an embrace. You quickly calm down and pull your head back to look him in his steel grey eyes. “The mission?" “Canceled. Wish that’d happened before we were halfway to Strasberg. I was hoping to get back to you before you woke up but I see I failed that one.” He looks at you full of concern.

“Sorry. My thoughts ran away a bit. I’m glad you’re home. Thanks for leaving me the note.” You smile and settle into his chest, breathing in his scent through his combat gear.

“Every time, doll” he says and he kisses the top of your head while pulling you in closer.

[borkystank]

okay THAT was an interesting turn of events..

it’s amazing! thank you for writing it love! ❤️

not to be greedy or anything, but do you see this going forward.. like a part three? ☺️🤞🏻🙈

Letters

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader , Tony Stark x Reader

Warning/s: Possibly heartbreaking 

Word Count: 827

Note/s: This isn’t exactly part two but this is for you, @yourpal-yourbuddy-yourbuckyy <3 This is related to One Broken, One Lost so check that out for anyone who’s interested. Thank you for reading!

Prompt: Day 3: Goodbye letters from @itsbuckysworld / @ibwhellospring ‘s Spring Short Story Writing Event

Keep reading