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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 months ago

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Trick or Treat | Bucky Barnes x Reader

This is my second Halloween fic this year because I have no self control!

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: anxiety

Sam’s Halloween bash launched into full swing, and seemed as though it would last till sunrise. Music pulsed through a set of massive speakers. Alcohol flowed. And throngs of people danced the night away.

Just as Sam instructed, everyone arrived decked out in costume. And as you scanned the crowd, you found Ghost Face doing shots with Barbie. Michael Myers grinding on Freddy Kreuger. Pennywise flirting with Beetlejuice. It was a picture perfect Halloween party- save for one thing.

Bucky hadn’t arrived yet.

All of the partygoers formed a large, pulsating mass as they danced and celebrated, but you remained off to the side. In an empty, isolated corner, you checked and rechecked your texts. You’d already shot Bucky a few messages asking when he’d show. Asking if he was alright. And he swore he was fine. He said he’d be there soon, but that was as specific as he’d get.

“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute!” Wanda yelled over the music. She swayed to the beat, swishing the skirt of her dress back and forth. Every few seconds, she stole a glance at the dance floor with want in her eyes. “Come on, let’s go dance!”

“I’m with Mary,” Nat downed the last of her drink and draped her arm over Wanda’s shoulders. “The Sanderson Sisters are the life of the party, we have a reputation to uphold!”

When the three of you decided to coordinate your costumes, Hocus Pocus had been the obvious choice. In the weeks leading up to Sam’s party, you helped one another piece together flawless renditions of each Sanderson Sister. Wanda decided on Mary, and Nat dressed up as Sarah, leaving you to adopt Winifred’s famous ensemble.

And you had to admit, the three of you looked amazing.

But you couldn’t run to the dance floor and party with abandon- not yet, anyway. Bucky said he’d be there. He swore to you that he’d make an appearance. And while a loud, overcrowded party wasn’t his favorite way to spend an evening, he knew he had to challenge himself. To expand his comfort zone.

He wanted so badly to be “normal”. To function like a “regular” person. But he struggled. He had flashbacks. Panic attacks. Long depression spirals. And his anxiety always had the reigns.

But he’d fought tooth and nail to vanquish his demons, and now that he was making progress and healing bit by bit, he wanted to join the ranks of "ordinary" society.

And Sam’s party was the perfect opportunity. It was a safe, controlled environment where Bucky could stretch his comfort zone. Sure, it was loud and packed with people, but that was the whole point. If he was going to be “normal”, he had to be okay with noise and crowds; Sam’s party had both. But there was nothing for him to worry about, nothing to fear. He would perfectly and totally safe here. At least half of the attendees were fellow special agents, and you and Sam promised to stick with him all night.

But the party started over an hour ago, and he still hadn’t shown. Worry creased your brow; it wasn’t like him to be late.

“I think I’m just gonna hang out here for now,” you leaned against the wall and brandished your phone at them, “So I can make sure I don’t miss a call or anything.”

“You do you, sister,” Nat brushed a kiss against your cheek, “Mary and I are gonna command the dance floor.”

The two of them ran off, arm in arm, in the direction of the crowd.

“Is he on his way?” Sam came around the corner, two drinks in hand. He extended one in your direction and sipped on the other. “I haven’t heard back.”

“I don’t know.” You took a long pull of your drink, “I asked if he was coming and he said yes, but he didn’t give me a specific ETA, or anything.”

Sam shrugged, “I think he might flake.”

That same sneaking suspicion had crossed your mind a few times over the last hour, but you refused to accept it. Surely, Bucky just needed a little extra time to prepare himself. To get in the right headspace.

“I’m gonna- would you take this for a sec?” You handed your drink back to Sam, who swore to keep a watchful eye on it while you stepped outside to call Bucky.

The phone rang and rang. And you feared it might go to voicemail. But at the last possible second, Bucky picked up.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Something was off. He sounded almost nervous, like he’d been caught red-handed.

“Hey, Buck.” You kept your tone light. “Are you gonna be here soon?”

A long silence permeated the line.

“Um, yes. Yeah, I’m on my way right now,” he assured you. “Shouldn’t be much longer. I’ll see you in a bit. Okay?”

“Great." You didn't buy it for a second. "See you soon.”

For an ex-assassin with decades of stealth training and countless kills on his hands, Bucky was a terrible liar. But only when it came to you. He just couldn’t deceive his best friend, couldn’t pull the wool over your eyes. He simply didn’t have it in him; his brain and body rejected even the concept of swindling you.

You knew for a fact that he was still at his apartment. Knew that his anxiety had won. You could practically see him sitting at home all alone, hating himself for flaking on yet another get-together. And while his closest friends danced the night away, he’d spend the entire evening berating himself. Chastising himself.

But you wouldn’t allow it. With a determined huff, you ditched the party, and set off in the direction of Bucky's apartment.

Bucky stared at the costume you’d carefully helped him assemble. It sat neatly folded on his kitchen table, all he had to do was put it on and head out the door. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. And it infuriated him.

He spent weeks mentally preparing himself for this. He meditated, journaled, and even sought out extra therapy sessions. But none of it worked. He was still a slave to his anxiety, bending to every whim of the monsters in his head.

The whole thing was so stupid- it was just a party. He knew, logically, that there was nothing to fear. But part of his brain, the part that hated him, told him it would be too much. That he’d immediately get overwhelmed by the noise and the people and the lights. That it was a panic attack waiting to happen.

He feared what onlookers might think, what they might say, if he broke down in the middle of the festivities. And he didn’t want to chance ruining Sam’s party.

And so, he’d lied to you. He wasn’t proud of it, but it was for the best. He just wanted you to have a good time. Wanted you to spend the night dancing with Nat and Wanda instead of worrying about him. It was better this way.

A sharp knock jolted him from his seat on the couch. He crossed to the front door and pulled it open, expecting to see a group of candy-obsessed kids in costumes. But he found something else, entirely.

“Trick or treat!” You held a bottle of whiskey and a bag of candy proudly in the air, “Happy Halloween, Buck.”

Bucky took on a deer in the headlights kind of look. He was shocked, completely frozen. And as the surprise melted away, he found himself awash in strange mix of anxiety and guilt. You’d caught him in his lie; you’d found him out. And with you standing on his doorstep, he had nowhere to run.

“Sweetheart, hey. Hi. Um, Happy- Yeah, Happy Halloween.” He tripped over himself again and again, his heart racing. “I was just about to call you and-”

“It’s okay, Buck. You’re not in trouble,” you shot him a wink. “I know parties aren’t really your thing.”

He gestured for you to come in and you happily accepted, sweeping past him in your elaborate costume. But he was so bewildered, so overwhelmed, that he left the door wide open.

“What are you doing here?” Quickly, he clarified, “Not that I don’t want you here. I just mean- why aren’t you at the party?”

“Cause I came to hang out with you!” You shrugged, “Plus, there’s no point in me going if you’re not there.”

Bucky appreciated your loyalty, your dedication to him. But he couldn’t let you sit on the sidelines with him.

“That’s sweet of you, and I’m more than happy to have you here, but I know you’ve been looking forward to the party and your costume and everything. And I don’t want to ruin your Halloween.” He leaned against his open door, “So, it won’t hurt my feelings if you-”

“My Halloween will only be ruined if we don’t hang out. So, come on,” once again, you held up the candy and alcohol, “trick or treat, Buck.”

With a stubborn smile, Bucky shut the door. He watched you struggle with the bag of candy and laughed as you used your teeth to tear through the plastic.

“You know, I think you’re doing the whole ‘trick or treat’ thing backwards,” he said as he fished a Twix out of the bag. “Cause you brought candy instead of taking some from me.”

“Or maybe I’m a Halloween pioneer, and I’m inventing new traditions,” you offered. “Now, let’s crack this open.”

Bucky gladly took the bottle of whiskey from you and led you to the kitchen. He crafted old fashioneds for the both of you and clinked his glass with yours. His night had taken a very sharp, very sudden upswing, and he was more than grateful.

“I saw some kiddos trick or treating down the hall, and at least four of them were dressed up like Sam,” you laughed. “Have they been here yet?”

You eyed the large bowl of candy sitting by the front door. It was still full, nearly overflowing with sugary treats. And you realized: it was completely untouched. No greedy little hands had dug through it yet. No mischievous kids had snatched a handful or two. It just sat there, waiting.

It was sweet of Bucky to be prepared, to buy treats for the kids in the area. He was trying so hard to connect with people. To be a member of society. He wanted so badly to be seen as a person. But the world only saw him for his past.

“Um, no, I haven’t had any trick or treaters,” Bucky said, “Well, except for you.”

You shot him a wink a took a drag of your drink.

“But I’ve heard them- they’ve been running up and down my hall all night. I just don’t think…” He clinked his metal fingers against his glass, “I don’t think any of the parents in my building want their kids knocking on my door.”

His shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly, and his head fell an inch or two. Saying it out loud was humiliating. He’d thought- he’d hoped- that the city would embrace him. That they’d celebrate his return. But the only welcome he’d received was dirty looks and people spitting at him on the subway.

Bucky’s words knocked the air from your chest. A combination of heartbreak and unbridled rage swirled inside of you; it was all so unfair. Bucky didn’t deserve to be treated like a pariah or a threat. He was least intimidating, most approachable person you’d ever met. Sure, he was a little shy. But he was so warm. So kind. He genuinely cared about people. He wanted to help his community and make people feel safe. But they refused to give him a chance.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you took his hand in yours, “More candy for us.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled you in for a long, much needed hug. He would never be able to express how much he appreciated your undying support. Your unconditional friendship. He knew without a doubt that he could always count on you. And after living in an unpredictable, erratic state of limbo for so many years, he cherished your consistency.

Bucky dug through the candy you brought, searching for a Snickers. “I know it’s selfish, but I’m really glad you came over.” He abandoned his candy hunt and brought his gaze up to yours, “Seriously. Thanks for being here.”

“Anytime, Buck. You know that.” You tucked the bag of candy under your arm and snatched your glass from the counter, “Come on, let’s watch a scary movie.”

Bucky followed your lead, only straying from the path for a moment or two. And when he returned, he brandished his overflowing bowl of candy in your direction. “I mean, if the kids aren’t gonna eat it…”

He sank into the couch next to you and took a swig of his drink as he watched you dig through the massive bowl of candy. A bit of guilt gnawed at him; he’d been so surprised to see you at his door that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate all the hard work you’d put into your costume. And as you picked through his candy stash, he drank in the details of your ensemble: the perfectly crafted make up, the ornate dress, the complicated hairstyle. It was impressive, to say the least.

“Your costume is fucking incredible, by the way. You did an amazing job.”

“Oh, thanks!” A proud smile stretched across your face, “If it wasn’t so ridiculously uncomfortable, I’d probably wear it every day. But this corset is…” You pinched and pulled at the tight garment, “Definitely not intended for daily wear.”

“Then let me get you something to more comfortable.” Bucky was up in the blink of an eye, and before you could protest, he was gone.

In the time it took you to locate and unwrap a Kit Kat, he’d arrived in the living room with a change of clothes for you. It was just a pair of sweatpants and a faded t-shirt with BROOKLYN emblazoned on the front, but after spending hours in an uncomfortable corset, you swore he was offering you a slice of heaven.

With greedy hands, you accepted the clothes, “You’re a life saver!”

You sped off down the hall, promising to be back in a flash.

Bucky scrolled through the scary movies Netflix had to offer, but didn’t pay much attention. He couldn’t believe his luck. He’d planned on spending the night all by himself. He figured he’d oscillate between sulking and self-flagellation until he finally fell asleep. But you’d saved him, as you so often did.

“Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for the clothes. Now, I can actually breathe.” You plopped down on the couch next to Bucky, “Okay, what do you wanna watch?”

Bucky scrolled through a few more movies, “I don’t know, I haven’t heard of most of these. I thought I’d defer to you.”

You motioned for him to continue scrolling and gave him a little synopsis each time one of your favorites popped up on the screen.

He listened closely and took your summaries into careful consideration. And after hemming and hawing over his options, he found himself torn. “This is tough, but I’m thinking we go with It Follows or Evil Dead.”

“Both excellent choices!” You clinked your glass against his, “Let’s do It Follows first, and then if we want to watch another, we can follow up with Evil Dead.”

“Deal.”

Bucky scrolled back a page or two and selected It Follows. The movie’s opening scene began, showcasing a quiet, suburban street. You tucked yourself closer into Bucky’s side and tore into a package of M&Ms, preparing to be scared.

But after only a minute or so, Bucky paused the movie.

He turned to you, “Hey, I’m sorry about the party.”

“Buck, we talked about this. I’d rather hang out with you than-”

“No, I mean, I’m sorry I bailed.” He pulled his gaze from your face and placed it on the ice melting in his drink. “My anxiety kind got the best of me. And I-” He locked eyes with you, “I swear I tried. I wanted to go. But I just… I couldn’t do it.” His sudden eye roll caught you off guard, “The whole thing is so ridiculous, it was just a party, but even thinking about going made my hands shake.”

“It’s not ridiculous. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re still trying to wade through all the shit Hydra saddled you with.” You gave his hand a squeeze, “Healing takes time. And it’s not a linear process. You’re gonna have ups and downs- that’s perfectly normal.”

All he could manage was a sigh.

“Like you said, it was just a party. Nothing major. So, who cares if you bailed? All that matters is that you made the right choice for you.”

“I guess.” He carded a hand through his hair, “I just want to be done with it all, you know? I want to be able to do things that normal people do.”

“I know. But, you have to give yourself some grace, okay?” You brushed a gentle hand over his cheek, “And you need to be patient. Cause there’s no skipping to the end with this stuff.”

He nodded, “Yeah.”

“So, cut yourself some slack, okay?” You nudged his shoulder with yours, “No one is more deserving of slack than you.”

“I don’t know about that-”

“If the roles were reversed,” you posited, “And I’d been through all of the trauma and abuse that you went through, would you be upset with me if I couldn’t do certain things because of my anxiety ?”

“No,” he gave a fervent shake of his head. “Never.”

“And would you want me to be kind to myself?”

Without pause, an “of course” fell from his lips.

“Okay, then you need to extend that same kindness and understanding to yourself.”

“But I just want to be able to do stuff with you,” he huffed. “I want to go to parties with you. And concerts. And-”

“Hey, all that will come with time, okay? There’s no rush.” Once again, you gave his hand a squeeze, “You’re my best friend, and I just wanna hang out with you. So, it doesn’t matter what we do. As long as you’re comfortable, I’m happy.”

Bucky eyed you for a second, “You mean that?”

You nodded, “I swear on my life.”

An awkward smile crossed his face, “Then I guess I should tell you that I’m not- I really don’t want to watch a scary movie.”

“Oh, shit. My bad, Buck. We can watch anything you want,” you said, “You pick.”

With a few taps of the remote, Bucky opened an entirely different streaming service and selected a safe movie free of actual scares.

“It’s still on theme with Halloween,” he promised, “But at least it’s not gonna give me more nightmares.”

“Yeah, whatever you want, I don’t-” The opening lines of Hocus Pocus filled the room, and you delivered a playful punch to Bucky’s arm.

He let out a loud laugh, “I had to, sweetheart. You’ve still got the make up on and everything.”

You pelted him with a few M&Ms before settling close to him. He draped an arm across your shoulders and pulled you tight, relishing in your warmth. He was so lucky to have you as his friend, so lucky to know you. He couldn’t believe you’d ditched the party you’d looked forward to for weeks- all for him. Couldn’t believe that you were spending your favorite holiday unceremoniously watching movies on his couch.

But he knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. After everything he’d gone through, he was just grateful that he’d befriended someone with such a kind heart. And as he settled in to experience Hocus Pocus for the first time, he started plotting how he’d make things up to you next Halloween.

��——————————————

@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @anything-more-than-human

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hotvintagepoll · 7 months ago

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Propaganda

María Félix (Doña Barbara, La Mujer sin Alma, Rio Escondido, La Cucaracha)—Maria Felix is still possibly the most well-known Mexican film actress. She turned down multiple-roles in Hollywood and a contract with Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer in order to take roles in Mexico, France, and Argentine throughout the 1940s, 50s, 60s. She was so famous and so respected as a dramatic actress that she inspired painters, novelists and poets in their own art--she was painted by Diego Rivera, Jose Orozco, Bridget Tichenor. The novelist Carlos Fuentes used her as inspiration for his protagonist in Zona Sagrada. She inspired an entire collection by Hermes. In the late 1960s Cartier made her a custom collection of reptile themed jewels. She considered herself to be powerful challenger of morality and femininity in Mexico & worldwide--she routinely played powerful women in roles with challenging moral choices and free sexuality. But even still, years after he death, she is celebrated with Google Doodles, and appearances in the movie Coco, and holidays for the anniversary of her death.

Julie Andrews (The Sound of Music, Mary Poppins)—Oh where to start .... I'm not sure I even know how. She's just perfection. And it's not fair I can't bring post 70s work into this, because she just gets better and better, and her drag performance in to die for. But in the era I CAN talk about, she shows she has THE RANGE. Beautiful, feisty, funny, holding her own against Christopher Plummer, Paul Newman, Rock Hudson. Oh she's luminous.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

María Félix:

She's Thee Hot Vintage Movie Woman of México. She's absolutely gorgeous and always looks like she's about to step on you. you WILL be thankful if she does.

"María Félix is a woman -- such a woman -- with the audacity to defy the ideas machos have constructed of what a woman should be. She's free like the wind, she disperses the clouds, or illuminates them with the lightning flash of her gaze." - Octavio Paz

María Félix is one of the most iconic actresses of the Golden Era of Mexican Cinema. La Doña, as she was lovingly nicknamed, only had one son, and when her first marriage ended in divorce her ex-husband stole her only child, so she vowed that one day she’d be more influential than her ex and she’d get her son back. AND SHE DID! María Félix rejected a Hollywood acting role to start her acting career in Mexico on her own terms with El Peñón de las Ánimas (The Rock of Souls) starring alongside actor, and future third husband, Jorge Negrete. She quickly rose to incredible heights both in Mexico and abroad, later on rejecting a Hollywood starring role (Duel in the Sun) as she was already committed to the movie Enamorada at the planned filming time. Of this snubbing she said, quote: “I will never regret saying no to Hollywood, because my career in Europe was focused in [high] quality cinema. [My] india* roles are made in my country, and [my] queen roles are abroad.” (Translator notes: here the “india” role means interpreting a lower-class Mexican woman, usually thought of indigenous/native/mixed descent —which she had interpreted and reinvented throughout her acting career in Mexico— and what abroad was typically considered the Mexican woman stereotype, with the braids, long simple skirts, and sandals. This also references the expectation of her possibly helping Hollywood in perpetuating this stereotype for American audiences that lack the cultural and historical contexts of this type of role which would undermine her own efforts against this type of Mexican stereotypes while working in Europe) She was considered one of the most beautiful women in the world of her time by international magazines like Life, París Match, and Esquire, and was a muse to a vast number of songwriters (including her second husband Agustin Lara,), artists, designers, and writers. Muralist Diego Rivera described her as “a monstrously perfect being. She’s an exemplary being that drives all other human beings to put as much effort as possible to be like her”. Playwriter Jean Cocteau, who worked with her in the Spanish film La Corona Negra (The Black Crown) said the following about her, “María, that woman is so beautiful it hurts”. Haute Couture houses like Dior, Givenchy, Yves Saint Laurent, Balenciaga, Hérmes, among others, designed and dressed her throughout her life. She died on her birthday, April 8, 2002, at 88 years old, in Mexico City. She was celebrated by a parade from her home to the Fine Arts Palace in the the city’s Historic Downtown, where a multitude of people paid tribute to her. Her filmography includes 47 movies from 1942 until 1970, and only two television acting roles in 1970. She has 2 music albums, one recorded with her second husband, Agustín Lara, in 1964 titled La Voz de María y la inspiración de Agustín «The voice of María and the inspiration of Augustín», and her solo album Enamorada «In Love» in 1998. Her bespoke Cartier jewelry is exhibited alongside Elizabeth Taylor’s, Grace Kelly’s and Gloria Swanson’s. In 2018, Film Director Martin Scorsese presented a restored and remastered version of her film Enamorada in the Cannes Classics section of the Cannes Festival and Google dedicated a doodle for her 104th birthday. On august 2023 Barbie added her doll to the Tribute Collection.

Julie Andrews propaganda:

"She has such a simple but amazing beauty to her. Not to mention her amazing and melodic singing voice!"

"Roles like nannies and governesses can make us forget how attractive she was! A perfect combination of elegant and adorable, with the most incredible vocal range to boot!"

"Besides having one of the most amazing singing voices ever to grace the silver screen, Julie always had an understated beauty to her that wasn't always shown off on screen. But it's there nonetheless because her characters managed to pull some of the hottest men ever to grace the screen."

"The juxtaposition between carefree Maria and stern but fun Mary Poppins shows the power of the acting of this HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMAN"

"Charming, genteel, incredibly charismatic, beautiful, and has an angelic singing voice to boot. Her screen roles as Maria in The Sound of Music and Mary Poppins are absolutely iconic for a reason and she originated several well-known Broadway roles before those."

"the most beautiful woman 12 year old me had ever seen possibly"

"OMG OMG OMG she’s definitely been submitted before how could she NOT but!!!! I loveeee her so muchhhh rahhhh prebby!!!! cool!!!! mary poppins the beloved <33333 some people dislike it but I love jolly holiday so much because it IS a jolly holiday with Mary!!! no wonder that it’s Mary that we love!!!!!"

"I know many people who were taught in singing lessons "when in doubt, pronounce words how julie andrews would pronounce them." THATS CALLED INFLUENCE. THATS CALLED MOTHERING THOUSANDS."

#julie andrews #maría félix #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4

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eros-thanatos89 · 5 months ago

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I just rewatched Breaking Bad S1E6 "Crazy Handful of Nothing" because I wanted to revisit the introduction of Tuco Salamanca (Iconique! Raymond Cruz's performance is electrifying!).

But what really stuck with me from the episode on this revisit was what happened to the school custodian, Hugo Archilleya. I haven't watched Breaking Bad in some time, so I had forgotten about it, but it's so devastating that we have this quiet, kind school custodian who cleans up after Walt vomiting because of his chemo treatments and offers him gum. And his little gestures of kindness are repaid by him being arrested because he "fits the profile" for the theft of the lab equipment that Walt stole for his cooks, simply based on a history of drug possession and Hank finding a single blunt in his car. So this kind working class man has his house "torn apart" by the DEA, and even after they realize he wasn't the thief, he loses his job, and is facing prison time for marijuana possession, and goes down for Walt (who of course doesn't breathe a word).

And the way Skyler and Marie react as if he's some danger to society and lament that he should never have been able to work in the school system, all because he had prior possession (probably marijuana) charges...it's such a perfect infuriating example of the war on drugs mentality and the way poor people and people of color are over-policed and over-punished by the system while white and middle or upper class folks either never get caught for the same drug offenses or get off with a slap on the wrist. The fact that Hank never even considers for a moment that Walt, his mild mannered and "respectable" brother in law could the be the culprit, even though he's the only other person with a key to the lab AND the one who manages the inventory and should have been able to account for the missing equipment, to the point where he just jokes about it to Walt's face is such a good demonstration of that type of both unconscious bias and willingful blindness.

There are so many small casualties among the larger tragedies in Breaking Bad, and Hugo Archilleya is such a good example, early on, of these smaller collateral casualties destroyed in the wake of Walt.

(Hugo also happens to remind me of my uncle, who is also a blue collar gentle giant with a ponytail, so it really stuck with me this time around...)

UGH. I don't want to ramble too much, so I'll wrap it up here. But, man...justice for Hugo!

((side note, I remember back in like 2012/2013 everyone was debating whether Breaking Bad or The Wire was "better". Silly debate; they're both excellent shows with different scope and focus. But I do think two of the best commentaries on the war on drugs and its awful impact on society...))

#breaking bad #breaking bad meta #breaking bad “crazy handful of nothing”#walter white #hugo archilleya #tuco salamanca

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ronance4everbrainrot · 3 months ago

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Some moooore little incorrect quotes from Descendants! This is gonna be a long one, sorry not sorry.

(with ships)

Audrey: *kisses Uma*

Uma: !

Audrey: ...Did you steal my chapstick?

Uma: Did- did I what?

Audrey: My chapstick, Uma. Did you steal it?

Ben: Audrey, for the love of God, not this again.

Uma: I- No, I didn't steal your chapstick. We use the same chapstick.

Audrey: No, there is absolutely no way we use the same chapstick, because it was only sold on one Etsy shop two years ago and they discontinued it, and I loved it so much that I bought the last of their stock, and I keep it in my freezer so it doesn't go bad. It's been discontinued for three years. No one uses the same chapstick for three years. So unless you've been eating a whole fuck ton of something that's flavored like chocolate and popcorn, you absolutely stole my fucking chapstick.

Uma: Chocolate and popcorn?

Ben: Why do you think it got discontinued?

(WHY IS THERE NO YELLOW! I DON'T WANT TO MAKE BEN BLUE! I ALREADY HAVE SO MANY BLUE ONES! Also slay and wtf? What a great start)

---

Ben: Do you think I'm plastic?

Audrey: No.

Ben: Phew. Oka-

Audrey: Plastic, at least, has some use in life. You're not plastic.

(Damn. What did he do to yo-..oh.. right.. yeah. I've also decided to make him Orange because it's close to yellow)

---

Ben: War is heck!

(facts)

---

Chad, to Ben: If my dad doesn't say "I'm King of the world" within an hour on that boat, I will give you my next pay check.

Charming, within 5 minutes of getting on the boat: I'M KING OF THE WORLD!!!

(Absolutely. Canon)

---

Audrey: God, if only someone loved me…

Uma: *standing behind them with roses*

Ben: *holding box of chocolates*

Chad: *has balloons and a card*

Mal: *facepalms* This is sad.

(Me: *holding a big Teddy Bear* lol I had a crush on her only in the Third movie. Loved her Queen of Mean Era)

---

Chloe: So, what is Red to you?

Maddox: The reason I wake up every morning.

Chloe: ...That’s adorable.

Red earlier that morning, barging into Maddox's room, smacking pans together: WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!!!

(They've got this sibling bond)

---

Chloe: Are pigeons drones?

Chad: What? No, I'm trying to sleep.

Chloe: Think about it. How come you've never seen a baby pigeon? And why do you never actually see a pigeon nest? Because they're DRONES!

Chad: *Crying* Please let me sleep...

(Sibling sleepover. Also Chloe, your Mary Anne is showing)

---

Red: I intend to stay pissed at you forever.

Red: Even if I seem helpful.

Maddox: Then you're in luck.

Maddox: Because you don't.

(Canon)

---

Uma: Hello all, it is I, your favorite person.

Carlos: Actually, Jane is my favourite.

Uma: Okay then, it is I, that bitch.

(Yup and I love you. Carlos and Jane✨🫠)

---

Evie: I love making parties more interesting by telling strangers “I want you to know that I personally have no problem with you being here.”

(Sweet and dangerous. Perfect.)

---

Uma: Evie said its my turn with the brain cell.

Mal: Square up.

(lol. Canon.)

---

Uma: What starts with F and ends with Uck?

Chad: No it doesn't.

Jane: Firetruck!

Mal: FUCK!

(Mal speaks my mind. Jane is smart and Chad got the spirit. He's not wrong tho.)

---

Jay: Good morning. As you begin your day, remember that violence is always an option and often the answer.

Carlos:

Jay:

Carlos: ...Please, go back to bed.

(Jay loves to annoy everyone. Mostly Mal.)

---

Carlos: I can do anything I put my mind to. I once figured out Jane's phone number just by choosing random numbers.

(..why didn't you just ask? But also impressive)

---

Chad: What's the scariest horror movie you've ever watched?

Chloe: IT.

Dizzy: Annabelle.

Maddox: Paranormal Activity.

Red: High School Musical. All throughout high school I was scared that everyone was gonna randomly get up and start singing and dancing, and I would be the only one who doesn't know the words.

(Honestly just did this because Kylie was in the HSMTMTS. Honestly. They do that in Auradon too. So watch out)

---

Red: Why is it so hard for you to believe me?!

Chloe: ...

Red: Oh, right. The lying.

(Has she ever lied to Chloe? I don't think so. But I find the quote funny)

---

Evie: A mouse!

Mal, pulling out a knife: Go back to where you came from or I'll stab you.

Jay, pulling out a frying pan: It'll make a nice meal!

Carlos, giving the mouse cheese: You deserve a treat, little guy.

Gil, gasping: It's Ratatouille!

Harry: His name is Remi, dummy.

Evie: ...I was going to say to just trap it and throw it out the window... what is wrong with you people.

(um.. yeah.. you know what-)

Chloe: A mouse!

Dizzy, pulling out a knife: Go back to where you came from or I'll stab you.

Celia, pulling out a frying pan: It'll make a nice meal!

Maddox, giving the mouse cheese: You deserve a treat, little guy.

Chad, gasping: It's Ratatouille!

Red: His name is Remi, dummy.

Chloe: ...I was going to say to just trap it and throw it out the window... what is wrong with you people.

(just some family time)

---

Chad: Sometimes I like to call people by the wrong name to show them I don’t care about them.

Red: That’s brilliant.

Chad: Thank you, Maddox.

(yeah)

---

Jay: Everyone has a toxic trait. Except Carlos, they’re perfect.

Carlos: Wrong! My toxic trait is how badly I want to domesticate a raccoon.

(Facts. He is perfect)

---

Red: Hold the fuck up.

Chloe: Excuse me?

Red: I said hold the fuck up.

Chloe:

Red: I’m the fuck up, hold me.

(Aww...canon.. I mean she's not a fuck up. Maybe in her mother's eyes. But aww)

---

Jay: You know, there’s something weird going on with your face?

Mal: What?

Jay: You’re smiling! I didn’t know you could do that?

(Because she and Evie finally got together. UwU)

---

Evie: How do you tell someone their breath stinks?

Jay: Hey, I'm bored, let's drink mouthwash.

(He definitely did that with his teammates)

---

Jay: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river.

Evie: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

(Oof. Do I want to know?)

---

(Little surprise from the past)

Charming: Care to give a free sample to a pretty person?

Ella, manning a bake sale and tired of their shit: Sure! You know one?

Charming:

Charming: Care to give a free sample to an ugly person?

(he's trying)

---

Brigdet: I have a question.

Ella: Shoot.

Bridget: Is the S or C in scent silent?

Hook: Fuck you, I’m going to be thinking about this all day.

Ella: Okay well, cent is pronounced the same way as scent so I’m gonna say the S is silent.

Bridget: Okay, but sent is also spelled the same way.

Hook: Google says that the C was added in the late seventeenth century, so I guess the S is silent.

Morgie: Plot twist, both the S and the C are silent and the E actually makes the sss sound.

Hook: Morgie is not allowed to talk anymore.

(Just them having a double date)

---

Bridget: Made you all playlists!

Bridget: Hades and Maleficent, yours have only heavy metal, and is dark like your soul.

Bridget: Ella and Uliana, yours have sad songs and blues to pair with your crippling depression.

Bridget: Charming, Morgie and Hook have the ABBA Gold album.

(she knows them well)

---

*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker*

Ella: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know.

Everyone:

Bridget: ...I did. I broke it.

Ella: No. No you didn't. Uliana?

Uliana: Don't look at me. Look at Morgie.

Morgie: What?! I didn't break it.

Uliana: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken?

Morgie: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken.

Uliana: Suspicious.

Morgie: No, it's not!

Hook: If it matters, probably not, but Maleficent was the last one to use it.

Maleficent: Liar! I don't even drink that crap!

Hook: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier?

Maleficent: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, James!

Bridget: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Ella.

Ella: No! Who broke it!?

Everyone:

Hook: Ella... Hades has been awfully quiet.

Hades: rEALLY?!

*Everyone starts arguing*

Ella, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it.

Ella: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick.

Ella:

Ella: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

(Damn Ella)

---

Bridget: It’s just that lollipop sticks last longer than the head, even if they’re less flavorful. I’m thinking of paper sticks, because you can peel off the layers with your teeth or leave it there until they fall off naturally, but plastic sticks can be chewed on too or left sticking out like a cigarette. Paper straws can be eaten layer by layer over time though, so they have the edge.

Morgie, bored: Can’t we just leave while they’re distracted?

Ella, genuinely interested: But what about wooden sticks?

Morgie: I hate you.

(No. It doesn't taste good and it's flaky? I don't like the paper ones. I like the plastic ones. Love to chew on them, tastes neutral ig idk. Wooden sticks tho. Taste great. And you can chew on them. But they break easily and you could get a splinter I think? But still Wooden wins for me. Plastic second and then paper)

---

Hope you liked it!

This was a bit longer.

Sorry not sorry.

Byeee.

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wandascrush · 4 months ago

Text

Natalie, the sweet one

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

Warnings: feelings developing, light touches, that’s all I think :)

Summary: Your relationship with the rich redhead slowly, but surely, blooms

Song: Opera house- Cigarettes After Sex

Nimble fingers quickly buttoned the slippery pink buttons that accented the white blouse you had on, hugging you perfectly in every corner. Swatting away the dust that fell on your black skirt in front of your mirror, you realized it showed the scar on the side of your thigh. The scar you hated. Nevermind that, you fluffed up the bouncy h/c hair that sweeetly framed your face before grabbing the cherry lipstick you stole from your mom, running out the door and down the flight of stairs in your apartment. Right as you were about to open the door leading out to the smoggy street you lived on, the tip of your shoe bent a tad too far and sent you tumbling down the last three stair steps, sending you face first into the door before your arms awkwardly caught you.

By the time you arrived at Natasha’s beautiful home in Manhattan, a small cut on your lip started to come apart and mix hints of blood with the cherry lipstick that adorned your pouty lips. Your rang the doorbell to the Romanoffs home. The ring sounded so perfect, like it belonged in one of your favorite shows with a perfect family. A dark haired, tall, lean woman with deep eyes opened the door for you with such poise and grace- Natasha’s mom. Something about the two was very similar, but it wasn’t necessarily by features. Her mother smiled, extending a gracious hand with a jewel the size of a rock on her ring finger, “Make yourself comfortable, she’ll be right down I’m sure.” This was your third time being over to their house as you two have started working together, and you found Mrs. Romanoff to be unexpectedly sweet. As you were guided into the living room, your curious eyes wandered from luxury to luxury, capturing everything like a camera. What a life. Especially their perfect family portraits, the entire family looked so beautiful and well put together. Each piece of clothing they adorned was brand new, most likely no hand-me downs.

The click-clack of Mary-Jane’s caught your attention, your study buddy ascending the winding stair case to the living room. Her eyes lit up as soon as they caught yours across the room. You two always worked in the study that sat untouched while her mom was always away doing…well no one actually knew. She just had a busy energy to her. The study is a quaint, old-fashioned space, tucked away. Time seems to stand still while your there, and 3:00 pm quickly turns into 6 before you know it. It’s filled with the comforting scent of aged paper and polished wood. The room is lined with tall wooden shelves, packed tightly with books of all kinds—some worn and weathered, others crisp and new. The shelves reach up to the ornate ceiling, where brass chandeliers hang, casting a warm, golden light that dances softly across the room.

As much as you tried to keep the conversations to concepts for the robotics project, your chats often drift beyond the pages of your textbooks. The two of you end up talking about everything, from your hopes to the constraints of your small high school, and even working after college. Natasha speaks of places she’s been, the things she’s seen. Through all of this, you get a sense that she’s lonely…that maybe no one really talks to her. It resonates with you. You notice that the redhead that sits so close to you is such a funny girl. She genuinely makes you laugh. It’s nice to not have to be the comedian for once. A part of you hurts though, when you remember the poisonous little thoughts of your mean stereotypes toward her.

As it gets later and creeps into the evening, the sun sets, casting a warm, golden glow through the windows. Natasha reads aloud from a book, her voice smooth and captivating, the words of the textbook spilling the space between you.

As she reads, you find yourself mesmerized, not just by the words, but by her. There’s something in the way she looks at you, a softness in her eyes that you’ve never noticed before. The world has taught you that feelings like these are dangerous. But in this moment, everything else fades away.

She finishes reading and looks up, meeting your gaze, “I just,” her chest falls with a sigh, “I want people to know that I’m smart. When people look at me, it’s like they see nothing. But I really am, you know…smart.” There’s a moment of silence, and the air is thick with unspoken words. You see a flicker of something in her eyes-hesitation, vulnerability. “I know you are, Nat. I know that.”

You look at her sympathetically, and gently touch her hand. Does she feel it too? This inexplicable connection that seems to grow stronger with each passing day.

Finally, Natasha speaks again, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you ever feel like you’re not quite where you’re supposed to be? Like there’s something more out there, something that you can’t quite name but you know it’s meant for you?”

You nod, unable to find the words to express that you know exactly what she means.The room feels smaller, the walls closing in as your heartbeat quickens. You move closer, whispering, “I think I know what you mean.”

“I knew you would.”

The tension between you is palpable, an invisible thread pulling you together. Nat reaches out, her hand lightly brushing against your knee, sending a shiver down your spine. She hesitates, giving you a chance to pull away, but you don’t. You can’t. And just like that, a line you didn’t know could exist, was blurred.

Tag list: @kkreader78o

#natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x female #wlw #natasha romanoff marvel #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff blurb #natasha x reader

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summerlovingbaby · 4 months ago

Text

free show

Eddie Munson was the only dealer in the shithole that most people callled Hawkins. Most people thought it was perfect. Y/N knew better than to call it perfect. It was a shit hole filled with perfect little families, hidden behind white picket fences and the girls wore mary jane shoes and ankle length skirts. And unless you fit into Hawkins idea of perfection than you were shit.

Y/N lived in a trailer halfway across town and mostly ate gas station food. She hated Mary Jane shoes, preferred drumsets and to books, and even though she mircaosuly graduated with all A’s she refused to go to college. She also liked smoking weed and writing music, and though Hawkins had alot of dealers, most of them were awful. Awful old men who seemed less interested in selling her good quality bud and more interested in copping a feel, so that left Eddie Munson.

All things considered it was convinet, he lived a couple trailers down and usually had good deals if you were nice. All you had to do was leave a note on his trailer if he wasn’t home and he would drop by, though he was usually home unless it was a school day. He had been her main dealer for the better part of 4 months, so they were now on a first name basis, Eddie even accepted IOU’s on 3 occasions when she was short on cash.

Y/N got home from a grueling shift at the dinner wanting to wind down, the Carvers spent their whole breakfast loudly insulting her, and their son Jason was a particular piece of work. First they didn’t like her hair, it was dyed a raven black with strands of white in the front. Then her outfit was much to revealing. Her mini skirt and lace stockings and platform shoes with a t-shirt and apron, which was completely in dresscode. Then her makeup was just too much, even though she was only wearing eyeliner.

She wanted nothing more than to come home, smoke, then crash until her show, but her shift left her much too wired to do anything, so she left a note on Eddie’s trailer, hoping he would be back before she had to leave for her show. Took off her skirt and put on some spandex shorts she stole from the mall, stepped out of her platform shoes and slipped on black knee high socks. She changed out of her uniform shirt into a oversized black Metalicka shirt that stopped mid-thigh and grabbed her drumsticks, and twidlded with them until she heard Eddie call for her.

She threw the sticks on the ground and skipped to the door to see Eddie leaning on the door frame.

Eddie thought Y/N was pretty, not in the typically Hawkins pretty, pretty like a moonless sky, or pretty like a crumbled-up map. Hawkins pretty girls wore too much makeup and dressed too much like grown women for Eddie’s taste. Y/N only wore alot of eyeliner, and skirts that were short. And Eddie had a thing for lace. Thats probably why Eddie’s eys drifted directly to her legs, covered with a nearly sheer black lace.

“ How much do you want?” he asked.

Y/N opened the door wide, letting him walk in.

“ How much you got?” she asked, picking up the abandoned drumsticks that she left on the floor.

Eddie realized this was the first time that he been in her house, they always did deals at the door, but for some reason she let him in today, and all he could think about was if she was wearing anything but those lacy stockings underneath that oversized shirt.

“ That bad,” he asked. His eyes drifted to the drumset in the corner. “ You have roommates?”

She followed his eyeline, “ Those are mine if you’re asking?” she said. Most people didn’t believe her when she said she was musically inclined. Her parents didn’t have a penny to spare but made sure she took piano lessons. And a guitar looked kind of like a piano if you turned it sideways and once you learned guitar it didn’t take much to learn the drums.

“ I got 3 oz,” he said, pulling a ziplock bag out of his pocket, “ but if you really want to party I have Special K,” he said, tossing the bag on the bed.

“ How much?” she asked.

“ $40,” he replied.

“ You’re lucky I like you,” she said, bending over to her bottom drawer, where she pulled out a wad of crumpled cash, and unfolded it, making one attempt to count it, before dumping it out on the bedspread, and counting it, mumbling numbers under her breath, “ you are robbing me blind, Munson,” she said.

“ I could give you a deal,” he spoke.

She lifted one brow, “ Oh really,” she said, she had been offered this type of deal before. Old men who preferred blow jobs to cash, she didn’t think Eddie was the type, but then again he was looking at her legs with wide eyes.

“ Play me something and I’ll give it to you half off,” he shrugged.

She nodded, and motioned to both instruments, “ Dealers choice,” she said.

He motioned to the drums, so she reached across her bed for some drumsticks, then walked to the set and sat down slowly on the little wooden stools. People had asked her to play before, and usually, it didn’t take alot to impress people. Bang around a few times, even use the petal, hell she could improvise a whole song, lie about it and most people would be impressed, but for some reason she really wanted to impress Eddie.

She played a simple but quick beat, Eddie nodded along, and before he knew it the she stopped playing with a final thud on the cymbals. Eddie snapped out of his daze, and tossed the bag on her bed, using his free hands to covertly cover his crotch, because now he had a growing obvious and embarrassing boner. All it took was the pretiesr girl in Hawkins to bang around on the drums for a little bit and he had a boner.

Eddie had his fair share of hookups, had too many bad dates to count, but now all he could think about was if Y/N would be another girl in a long string of bad dates or if she would be the diamond in the rough. If the prettiest girl in Hawkins would give him a chance.

“ Well you know what, I’ll give you the 4 oz for free for being such a loyal customer,” he said backing out of the room.

“ Eddie,” she said slowly standing. “ You’re being weird, why are you being weird?”

“ I’m not,” he said stumbling backwards over a plastic plant. “ I just-”

“ Have a boner,” she said, staring at his crotch. She assumed it was larger than averge, no man strut around like that if it wasn’t bigger than most men, but larger than average was an understatement. The bulge in his jeans made it clear that small was no metric that could be used to describe him.

He watched her stare, and realized that she was just as encapsulated with him as he was at her. He smiled at the thought of her getting all hot and bothered with the idea of him, she not so subtly crossed her legs.

“ You’re starring princess,” he smiled.

The nickname seemed to spark something in her because she walked past the drum set, sat on her bed and opened her legs. “ Why don’t you come over here and do something about it?”

Eddie didn’t have to be told twice, he pushed himself to a standing position, and crossed to her bed in one large step. He grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her into a kiss. You would think, with all the time he spent thinking about her lips he would be more prepared for what they felt like, but he had no idea. He pulled away because the intensity of the kiss was all too consuming, but Y/N looked up at him and and batted her eyelashes, and he couldn’t help but do it agin.

He jammed his knee in between her legs and felt her grind down on friction. Her hands reached for his studded belt, but she missed by a few inches, and grabbed his erection through his pants. He groaned loudy, and she smiled, pulling away so she could see, and he couldn’t help but watch.

Her small delicate hands undid the harsh studded black belt and pulled it lose. Her dainty red fingertips pulling his button loose, and slowly pulling down his zipper. Before he knew it he was flat on his back, as Y/N had flipped him over, and was pulling his pants down by the loops, leaving him in his plaid boxers. He only had a moment to be embarrassed, before Y/N palmed him through the thin cotton. He groaned loudly, and rose to rest on his elbows and watch.

Y/N didn’t know if she could wait any longer, so she jerked his boxers off and stared at it with wide eyes. “ Jesus christ, Eddie,” she said.

He had a sinking gut feeling, “ What? We can stop?”

“ Eddie, it’s fucking huge. You walk around like this all day?” she said, she was honestly perplexed. She had seen her fair share of dicks, some smaller, others larger. But never this large, and she had never found herself intimidated at the sight of one.

“ Only for you honey,” he whispered, biting her lips.

She gleamed at the nickname and grabbed his dick, globbed a large spit on the tip and stroked it slowly.

“ You’re gonna kill me princess,” he said, as she stroked faster, before taking the head in her mouth and sucking harshly.

It had been a long time since he got a blowjob so he unintentionally bucked into her mouth. “ Sorry, “ he whispered, “ Sorry, you feel good, damn.” he groaned.

She pulled off, “ it’s okay, just take a breath before you have a stroke,” she said, bending over again, and taking all of him in her mouth.

He groaned and unintentionally bucked as she sucked him down to the base, and fondled his balls with her hands, he lasted only 2 more minutes before he forced her away with a light handed tug on either sides of her face.

“ Keep that up and I’ll finish before we get started princess,” he mumbled. He watched Y/N react to the nickname, so rose to his elbows again and cocked his head to the side, and smiled. “ You like when I call you princess?” he asked, “ you want to be my princess?” he asked as Y/N rose to straddle him, nodding rapidly.

She wanted to be his in every way, she wanted to be his biblically, in a way that is concerning to god. He grabbed her hips under her shirt, “ You want me to treat you like a princess?” he asked. “ You want me to treat you like a lady?” he asked.

His hands squeezed her sides gently, and in one swift motion she was flat on her back. “ Some lady,” she whispered.

“ My lady,” he whispered.

She keened at the idea, his lady, his girl, Eddie Munsons girl.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #stranger things fandom #stranger things fic

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