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marvelobsessed134 · 2 years ago

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Friends help each other

Requested: No

Pairings: Tommy Lee x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Semi Dark!Obesssive!Tommy, innocent!reader, loss of virginity, coercion, manipulation (but make it hot), dub/con, I think that’s it.

A/n: Both you and Tommy are 19 in this and it’s set around the start of motley.

Summary: Your best friend invites you over to his house, but it’s not what you expected.

You laughed over the loud rock and roll music that was playing from the stereo of Tommy’s car. The two of you had just got done eating at the diner when he invited you to hang out at his place. You love going to Tommy’s house, so of course you accepted! You hoped his mom was there so she could maybe teach you some more recipes. She was more like a mom to you than your real mom, she cared about you like your real mom didn’t.

Once he pulled in the driveway, you noticed the main car was gone. He noticed your look of confusion, “Mom and dad took Athena to Disneyland today. Sorry, forgot to mention it.”

“No, it’s fine.” You said before the two of you got out of the car and walked towards the house. Once inside, you couldn’t help but get this feeling. Sure, you’ve hung out plenty of times when his family wasn’t home, but this time felt…off. Maybe it’s the air, the house is warm and stuffy because the AC wasn’t needed when no one was home.

“Hey, Tommy can you turn on the air conditioner? It’s kind of hot in here.” You asked as you sat down on the couch at an uncomfortably slow pace.

“Sure.” He responded before adjusting the thermostat. “Let’s go to my room.”

For some reason, you didn’t want to go to his room. “Umm I kind of wanna stay out here. Maybe we can watch a movie?” You offered.

You could almost hear the low groan he let out but you didn’t quite reach your ears. “Nah, I wanna show you some new stuff I’m working on.” Yes, his new band Motley Crue that was supposed to be very successful. You could only hope. You’d honestly do anything for Tommy especially to make him happy and successful.

“Oh- okay.” You said before getting up off the couch and following him to his room. You walked in and sat on his bed watching as he locked the door. That’s weird, he never locks the door. He took his brown leather jacket off and threw it on the floor before sitting next to you on the bed. Close enough to where your thighs were touching.

“Hey.” He said in a soft voice.

“Hey.” You said back, “So, what have you been working on?”

“Actually,” he said shifting impossibly closer to you. Your heart rate picked up. And were suddenly so captivated by his features. His tan skin, long brown hair, brown eyes and a dopey smile that always gives you butterflies.

“Y/n, you remember when I met you that first day of sophomore year?” How could you forget? He bumped into you in the hallway made you fall, scraping your knee. He felt guilty so he took you out to lunch to make it up to you. Ever since then you’ve been best friends.

“Yes, of course. What about it?” You chuckled softly not knowing where he was going with this.

“And we’ve been friends for three years.” Tommy stated and you nodded in confirmation.

The brunette suddenly took your hand and placed it on the bulge in his pants. You gasped, trying to move your hand away but he was so much stronger than you, and kept your hand there.

“Tommy…what are you doing?” You asked.

“Do you feel that? Every time I look at you and you’re in one of those skirts like you are right now this happens to me. Care to help a guy out?”

“What? No! You’re…we’re…we can’t. Are you insane?” You asked. Though, part of you wanted it. You felt butterflies and a tingle in your core when he put your hand on his crotch.

“We’re friends right?” He asked a little more sternly this time.

“Of course-“

“Friends help each other. That’s what friends are for.” He cut you off. The drummer caressed your face, now having let go of your hand. His other hand snakes behind your lower back. “You understand, don’t you honey?”

You nodded. “Good girl.” He whispered before leaning in to kiss you. His lips were soft, warm, comforting. You kissed him back with such ease since you’ve already had a first kiss.

The kiss became more passionate and he slowly leaned forward, making you lean back before eventually falling to lay on the bed. Tommy stayed on top of you, kissing more rougher, his more primal side coming out. He began kissing down your neck, then your collarbone before slowly undoing the buttons on your shirt. You froze. “Um I don’t-“ “Shh, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. Just let me see those beauties huh?” A cheeky smirk was plastered on your friends face as he continued to unbutton your shirt. Once it was completely unbuttoned, he forcefully pulled it off you when you didn’t move.

“Come on baby, don’t make this difficult for me.” He groaned and it shot straight to your core. Something about how demanding he was really did something to you. Made you see him in a different light. Of course you’ve always had a crush on Tommy, who wouldn’t? But now you’re having lustful feelings for him.

You arched your back so he could in lip your bra in which he muttered a “good girl.”

Tommy was happy that you were slowly giving into him. He’s wanted you for a long time now. He started fantasizing about you in all different kinds of ways. One of how you’d be such a sweet wife for him to come home to after a long day at the studio. One to call on tour. And you’d stay home for him like a good girl.

Once your bra was off he immediately went to grope and massage your breasts before pulling and erect nipple into his mouth. You gasped, never have felt this feeling before.

“What?” He asked.

“I-I’ve never felt this way before.”

“You’ve never touched yourself?”

You shook your head, and he caressed your chin, “You poor thing. So when you get turned on you just let that little pussy drip? Aww poor baby. Don’t worry Tommy’s here now.” His voice was soft and full of empathy it seemed, making you feel safe. You’ve always felt safe with him.

The brunette continued his assault on your nipples before kissing his way down your stomach causing goosebumps to arise.

Once he reached the waistband of your shorts, he unbuttoned them and tugged them off. He then got rid of your panties as well.

He sat back on his knees and admired you before taking off his shirt. You admired his slim body, trailing your eyes down all the way to his very large bulge. He smirked at your ogling before leaned down again and gently spreading your legs to see your soaked pussy.

You tried to close them but he forced them back open again. You watched as he licked his lips before diving in and licking a bold stripe against it. You squirmed, never feeling this feeling before and threw your head back, almost screaming at the feeling. Tommy flicked his tongue on your clit and you bit down on your bottom lip, fisting the sheets. “Mmm Tommy…” you whimpered.

“What is it, honey?” He asked and as he asked you he slipped a finger inside your tight, wet hole. Your mouth fell open in a gasp, you looked at him with wide doe eyes.

Tommy was living for how you were reacting to him. It’s all he’s ever wanted besides being in a band. “Come on, you can tell me.”

“It feels…so…good.” You mustered the words out. He smirked, “I know it does baby.”

The drummer pumped his finger in out of your slowly before adding a second, curling them and hitting that special spot you didn’t even know existed. As he did this he rubbed his thumb on your clit making you scream as you felt this overstimulating tingle that made your brain go fuzzy.

“Tommy I don’t know, this ah! It’s too much stop!” You cried.

“Don’t worry baby. It’s normal you’re about to come it’s okay, let it go. I’m right here sweet girl.” And you clenched around him as an overwhelming sensation overcame your senses.

You screamed in pleasure. “Good girl!” Tommy praised. He slowly pulled his fingers out after you came down from your high and licked them clean.

He then stood up to undo his belt and pulled his jeans and boxers down. Your eyes widened at his length. He was…big. And you never had sex before.

You sat up in a panic before trying to leave but he pushed you back down. “Stay.” He commanded you as if you were a dog. And it did something to you.

He lined himself up to your entrance before pushing in. You squealed, tears springing in your eyes. He pressed a kiss to your lips before wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“Tommy, it hurts.” You cried.

“Shh, I know baby.” He cooed. “Fuck your tight.” He moaned, rolling his eyes in the back of his head as he picked up the pace, thrusting in and out of you. The pain quickly faded into pleasure and you began moaning with him as well.

“Thatta girl.” Tommy cooed.

It wasn’t long before he came to his own orgasm, finishing inside you. He cleaned the two of you up before laying next to you, pulling you to rest your head on his chest. You could feel his heart beating fast.

Then something hit you, “Oh my god you..you..you finished inside me! I’m gonna get pregnant!”

“Shh, it’s okay. They have pill for stuff like that it’s okay. Besides it’s good practice for when we actually have kids.”

“Wait what?”’

#motley crue #motley crue x reader #tommy lee #nikki sixx #vince neil #fanfic #mick mars #tommy lee x reader #tommy lee smut #smutty #smut #smutty fanfic #motley crue smut #motley crue fanfiction #yandere #soft yandere #soft dark fic

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freeluigihesbae · 10 days ago

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𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓮𝓬𝓭𝓸𝓬𝓱𝓮 - 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 4

fic summary:

the synecdoche is the agency we've seen in the movies. it's an agency that's real.

the reader is arya nitwa, code named riposte, who is a cold and calculated, terribly vulnerable but expert eccidetniest for her own good. she's a top ranking agent with her own team

luigi mangione, code named kismet, is cheery and clever, making his own marks in the agency after he loses the things that meant the most to him and hiding a pool of wounds beneath his smile.

arya and luigi cross paths for a new mission, where arya is forced to trust luigi while he is forced to heal. what happens when a forbidden love and a complex tangle of emotions comes to lie before their eyes?

chapter summary: walls are breaking and love is in the making.

𝗍𝗐: 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾

Muffled noises from outside of Arya's door make her blink with struggle as she tries to place herself. She's confused, not understanding why she's in a fetal position with a blanket on top.

Wait, why is there a blanket on her?

Arya sits up with a jolt, grabbing the soft blue blanket that was just covering her body. She lets her fingers press and feel around it, as though it could tell her what exactly happened last night. Shaking her head, she picks up the hair-tie lying on her side and ties her hair in haste before getting up and seeing a small pink paper slipped between her door. Her brows furrow as she takes cautious steps to unlock the door. The paper slides onto the floor before she senses sp,e food nearby.

Wait, it's right outside her door.

There's a cart outside with covered bowls and plates. Utterly confused, Arya chooses to stand and process what she was sensing: her stomach did the work for this one as she appreciated the smells of orange, chocolate, eggs, and spices that made her stomach scream hunger. Turning to look at the paper in her hands, she opens its neat, methodical folds before reading the note.

Riposte,

I'm not sure if you remember whAt happened last night, but just to give a recap, you fell asleep with your face in my cheek. It sounds pretty weiRd but honestly, I'm worried you might panic so I'm letting you know that I was happy to be there for you. Maybe you didn't see it as help and maybe you're angry that I came and made you lash out, but it seems like something broke within you. I'm especially honored that You're trusting me with such painful secrets. I don't expect you to come for a lesson today because you probably didn't get sleep, but I'll be waiting for you in room 312 at 3pm today. I'll be there for 15-ish minutes before leaving. I used one of my gifts for the year to get some food delivered to your door. I'm not sure what you like so I asked the kitchen to prepare what I usually get in a dAy.

I hope you trust me more.

I trust you too.

Kismet.

Arya's memories start flooding back. Luigi walking in. Telling her story. Crying. Screaming. His arms around her. Her scared he'd touch her. Her falling asleep. She's incredulous, wondering how she was able to let herself stand and feel…okay with having been vulnerable.

For the first time in 12 years, Arya tries but fails to fight back the smile that grows on her face. It could be much bigger - she could let her teeth show - but she doesn't. Instead, an ever-so slight curve graces her face as she presses the note to her chest. Perhaps it's the words, the length, the way he spelled out ARYA in such a stupidly childish and laughable manner that made this so thoughtful, or how he ordered all his meals for the day in a single gift. Or maybe, it's because he used the gift in the first place.

Gifts were an additional bonus every agent had with their daily meals. Kitchen was open to get whatever, whenever, but you could only order and keep the food for yourself, with the exception of gifts. Every agent had three gifts for the year where they could choose and send food of their choice to any agent or employee in the Synecdoche. Arya never used hers because she never felt the need and knew it wasn't frequent for others to use it either. But Luigi had chosen to use his and that touched her in a way she hadn't felt for over a decade.

Loved.

Suddenly the idea of trust didn't seem so far from her grasp. She saw goodness that was selfless and pure.

No, it wasn't.

Arya's head started pulsing again as wretched thoughts filled her mind. She pulled the cart inside before slamming the door and sinking to the floor. Not again not again. She held her arms up to her forehead, pressing herself against the door behind her and shouting curses, trying to stop the noise in her head.

"He's playing you." She hears a voice speak with a low, mischievous tone.

"He's not he's just being nice." Arya finds herself talking out loud, saying words she never thought she could utter again in her life.

"He just wants to make sure you dance before throwing you to the ways-" Arya gets up and slams her arm on the door before realizing she made a dent. But she couldn't give a care.

This situations was difficult since the Luigi had offered her a day of rest. In most cases and any other time, she would've taken it without any hesitation or care. But after what happened last night, two choices became clear: she could take rest and wallow in the comfort of the despair that eat away at her every single day, or walk out the door. Push her legs which feel heavy to walk into a room where her inner steel will dent or the stone will find itself vulnerable with more cracks and exchange her hiding place for a small, merely negligible chance at being happy.

She wanted happiness. She was still young. She was still deserving of good things. Arya places her fist in the dent, mumbling words to stop the evil from growing and creeping upon her. They wouldn't stop, but their volume certainly decreased. She found herself checking the time with a craze.

2:45pm.

She overslept, but that wasn't her concern. Ever since Brass had assigned the task of meeting with Luigi yesterday, she wasn't obligated to meet with her team unless they paged her or vice versa. She grabs her pager, squeezing her eyes shut whenever the words in her mind get too loud. Opening them, she sees there are 0 messages. Perfect, she thinks to herself, before she's running around the room, talking to herself so that she can bounce irregularity against the methodical madness in her mind and get out of the door. She had to leave this room. She had to. If she didn't leave, she'd be caging herself in again.

She wanted to be free from herself. If one thinks about it, leaving her room was an allusion to her leaving the shell she created for all these years. It would be as though she slipped through one of the several hundred cracks that appeared after last night's situation.

She throws on a wrapped, long sleeve top with sweatpants. She didn't have to be in uniform which meant outfits were to her discretion. She throws on foundation and powder, wondering why society couldn't accept a bare face for once before realizing nobody really asked her to put the makeup which then leads her to take it all off before she's panicking and oh-

3:09pm.

"FUCK!" Arya screams in frustration running around her room frantically, not even understanding what else she was supposed to pick up. She throws on some socks and shoes, tying them lazily before grabbing her pager and running the door.

"I'm leaving you." She whispers to herself quietly and opens the door halfway before stopping.

The hairpin.

She grabs it, giving it a kiss and placing it in her hair, wincing at her own force before closing the door.

Free, for now.

Arya finds herself sprinting down the hallway, successfully having made it out of her room and down the elevator to the third floor, only to realize 312 was the most hidden room on the floor.

3:15pm.

She feels another cry bubble up that she silences while keeping a straight face, telling herself over and over again that she'll see him. She runs down to the end of the shamelessly long hallway before throwing the door open to see

no-one.

The lights are off, with the exception of a crack of sunlight illuminating the dust that is floating around in the room as if nobody ever came. Arya steps inside, looking around the corners to see if there was a bag or any belongings, hoping he stepped outside but it was to no avail. Arya's face goes blank. She lets the emotion from her eyes dissipate into the air, freezing as she slowly hears voices.

"Nobody loves you."

"Why would he come? Why would he touch you?"

Arya grabs her head, feeling insulted by her own desperation. What did she expect would happen? She feel the cracks heal themselves, slowly suffocating her as one-by-one, it gets harder to breathe.

"Arya?" Arya's eyes widen and she stands up before turning right around. She swallows down the shock as she realizes Luigi's face is just about two inches away from hers. Luigi is staring at her, eyes darting around to understand why she was hunched over seconds ago. Instinctively, his hands raise to grab her shoulders but he hesitates before stepping back and stuttering, scratching the back of his neck. Arya finds her eyes widening and trying to reach for him before retracting and locking her hands behind her back.

Her expression returns to being thin and neutral with the exception of her eyes shying away from his.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't want to do anything I just wanted to comfort you." Luigi speaks with hesitation in his voice, gripping the strap of his bag while swallowing hard, fearing he may have startled her. Arya quickly steals a look into his eyes before swallowing and look away from him. She wants to tell him she was scared. That she was hearing voices. That she was afraid she wasn't worthy of his touch. That she was also afraid of his touch.

She look back into his eyes which are already looking at her with softness and concern, She parts her lips to speak, wanting to let the words fall and rest in his palms. But, she has manners.

And trust issues.

But she quiets the commotion in her head before saying "I got scared when I didn't see you here." Arya's hands reach to her throat, feeling her breath constrict at her confession. It was like that contaminated oxygen, the only air she had and lived with this entire time, was getting sucked out of her body every time she replayed the phrase she just uttered.

Luigi's eyes soften even more, impossible more, Arya thinks, as he watches her hand tighten around her throat. His eyes widen again, heart beating faster and faster before realizing she might be panicking again. He can't stop himself, grabbing her arm and pulling it away from her neck. Arya bites her lips and winces, bending her head down to somehow distance herself from him stepping so close and holding her arm. His grip is firm but forgiving, allowing her the freedom to pull away if she so chooses.

"Arya, we don't need to do this to-" "No matter what, Luigi, don't say no. Let me-" Arya interrupts Luigi, putting a finger up as he watches a frustration light up her eyes. "Let me find myself." Arya gulps, standing back before giving a quiet sorry. Luigi's confusion dissolves into a smile before he extends a hand, palm out just like the night before. Arya's face, previously steeled with self-loathe and confusion, melts into a ghost of a smile that she gives while staring into Luigi's eyes. He blinks, pushing his hand an inch closer to her, for which she slips her hand in quietly, before letting her lips curve up higher. Arya lets her eyes follow Luigi as they both step into the open room. It has mirror lining one wall while the other is wood, which makes Arya let out a sigh because something in this place isn't white.

"I was late which is why you didn't see me here. I'm sorry about that." Luigi stops walking, Arya following suit, before speaking. His hand is still holding hers, the two guiltily indulging in the softness of each other's skin. Arya listens intently, the small smile never leaving her face. "That's okay. I woke up 15 to 3pm so it took everything in me to sprint down here." Arya smiles wider and laughs before remembering the food. "Thank you for the gift, Luigi."

Luigi's eyebrows furrow before he lets out a chuckle. "The pleasure is mine after that conversation we had in the lounge room. I really needed someone besides my team members to talk to." He lets go of Arya's hand before placing it on her shoulder, imitating the barely-there pressure he exerted in the lounge that day. Her head slightly turns but goes back into place, unafraid.

"He'll leave at some point you bi-"

"Arya." She seems lost again, Luigi notes, before shaking her lightly. Arya looks up at him, a bit startled before giving a dry laugh.

"Sorry. Thinking." Arya waves her hand to brush her thoughts off.

"No problem." Luigi bends down to unzip his bag, making it nearly impossible for Arya to ignore his defined back, lending itself into an hourglass at his waist. Every imperceptible and perceptible shift in his actions creates an obvious change, highlighting how toned he was. Arya tries not to think too much of it, simply convincing herself that she was admiring his discipline.

He gets back up, carrying two water bottles and towels in his hand.

"I don't think we'll be needing this today, so don't worry yourself over the heap of school supplies I'm giving you." Luigi hands the items to Arya who inspects the items, before walking over and setting them down on a bench. She catches a glimpse of her eyes in the mirror and incredulously realizes that joy is a new, refreshing look on her.

"Thank you." Her back is turned to him when she says this, leading her to miss Luigi's stare. Her top is an open back, allowing him to see the skin beautifully gliding over the muscles that shift as she bends over and moves her arm. Every movement gives rise to said shifts. He tries, but he can't take his eyes off of her hazel and toned back. His eyes snap up in time, realizing what he's doing before he returns a soft you're welcome.

He steps over to the middle of the room before sitting down, ushering for Arya to come over. "Are you okay if we go by real names?" Arya walks over and crosses her legs while facing him. Doubt pangs in her stomach, half of her ready to playfully curse at him for giving her something to think about but she ignores the feelings inside of her. "Of course. I would've said something this entire time if I wasn't okay with it." She sees blush paint his cheeks. He's embarrassed to teach while she's finding it hard to try and learn. "I suppose I'm not the only nervous one here." Arya tilts her head innocently, looking at Luigi with a smile. It catches him off guard as he lets out a nervous laugh. He glances at Arya before answering. "That is true." He nods his head and raises an eyebrow. "Say, ever danced before?" Luigi asks with genuine curiosity.

Arya opens her mouth to answer. It's true because she has but not in the way he was thinking. She remembers on one and only one mission where she had to go undercover with Bastion. It was in a strip club…

It's going where you think it is.

Arya's mind was blown when she was told she had to go undercover as a literal stripper, but it was a bit easier since she was given the choice of song and dance. It was an easy task to rewatch the countless videos she chose, coming up with her own routine. There was no intimacy involved, rather, it was just her and the seduction she could muster up to exude from her twisting body. It's a memory that makes her laugh more than blush since she remembers having to whisper into Bastion's ear to play along and use him as bait to make their target jealous. Her legs had dipped over the stage, spotlight following her as she gave Bastion a lap dance. Bastion had half the mind to play along but the entire time, she could feel the absolute panic running through his system knowing he was the farthest thing from straight. She remembers having to lean into his ear and tell him to pretend like he was interested in fucking her, reminding him to think of Locutor in her place, which seemed to do the trick. Safe to say everyone but Locutor knew and Bastion got a bag of cackles thrown at him from Myriad and Gemini.

Arya realizes she's distracted before blurting out a "yes!"

Luigi raises his eyebrows before leaning in further, his interest piqued. "Really?" Luigi asks and Arya nods, realizing she doesn't want to hear the next question coming out of his mouth.

So she…answers it instead?

"I had to go undercover as a stripper." Arya slaps her hand over her mouth before Luigi's jaw drops, making her think his jawbone might detach. "What?" She swears a flicker of desire streaks across his eyes before getting replaced with shock. "Y-Yeah." Arya suddenly regrets everything and questions why she didn't lie.

Arya gulps. She hates to face it but some part of her was growing increasingly comfortable with Luigi, despite every distrusting instinct in her. Perhaps, part of her wanted to be vulnerable too.

Luigi wanted to ask her to dance for him, not realizing she'd tell him that stripping was her experience. He swallows hard. Should he ask? I mean, in this situation, it would actually be for educational purposes. The phrase wouldn't be used in vain so he tries his luck.

"W-Would you want to show me? You don't have to I swear it's just a matter of trying to let yourself be," Luigi visibly shakes before snapping his fingers, trying to find the right word. "Comfortable?" He royally fucks up and asks Arya like he's dying to see her routine (which he is but he can't actually reveal that can he?).

Arya blinks hard. At some point she'd have to get comfortable if she was going to conquer this mission. She could say no and move on, keeping close to her comfort but since this didn't involve any form of touching, it didn't seem like an unreasonable ask from his part. She remembers having to choregraph it and having no trouble performing on the stage, finding her own comfort and protecting her own dignity by her own means. Arya knows that as soon as someone having touch her and that too for an extended period of time is involved, she bows out.

"Sure." Arya turns to look around the room and there it is. A pole.

Something feels elementary about it. It's just a pole, a stick of steel that you dance around. Her mind flashes back to the countless times she had practiced the routine and suddenly, it doesn't seem so hard. She gets up before realizing she needs to change into tighter, more fluid clothing. Her top is fine but-

"I need to - uh - change?" Arya hesitates. Luigi is still reeling at the fact that she said yes, staring at her before fumbling and jumping to his feet. "I will be outside. Please just give me a nice, big holler." Luigi scurries out of the room, slapping himself the moment he steps outside to just calm the fuck down and relax. He was here to teach her, not fall in love. He bites his tongue, grounding himself.

Arya, meanwhile, slides her sweatpants off. It's habitual for her to wear her favorite high rise shorts, 3" inseam in a devastatingly navy blue shade, underneath any sweatpants she dons. She's got every color under the sun but she went with this color to compliment her baby blue top for today. She folds her sweatpants neatly, placing them on the bench. She struts over to the pole, letting her hands get habituated to the cool steel again, feelings the structure after almost a year. She had this mission a little over six months ago, but the routine was still fresh in her mind. She takes her shoes off, letting the socks cover her feet as she picks up a light jog. Her footsteps patter as she leans out of the door and Luigi is sitting down by the door.

"Hey. You can come in." Luigi, whose head was turned away from the door, whips around and smiles nervously. "You sure?" He's slowly getting up, feeling better once Arya nods. He watches her walk inside, taking note of the navy blue shorts she had on. He curses himself, unable to stop watching her fluid steps and carved body getting closer to the pole on the opposite side of the room. By habit, he places his hand on the door before freezing.

"Can I close the door? I can keep it open if you feel a-"

"Of course." Arya doesn't let him finish his question. He's being considerate, but the more doubt that gets seeded in her mind, the more it slows her down. Her mind is quiet as she watches Luigi pull out the controls for the speakers in the room. "Song?" Arya is hugging the pole, waiting for Luigi before remembering she can't dance without the song. She pauses before walking voer and scrolling through to search for the song. Luigi takes a few steps back before sitting on the floor again, in perfect vision of the pole.

"Arya, just remember that anytime you want to stop, just stop." Luigi is biting the inside of his lips, nervous she might have a breakdown. Arya looks over, smiling as she chooses the song and explains herself.

She sits down in front of him before talking.

"I don't mind doing this dance because I had learned and performed this myself. I choregraphed it start to end and since it doesn't really involve someone else touching me-" Arya is worried she's oversharing, but the focus Luigi places on her reassures her otherwise. "I'm okay with it. If someone else had to be involved, then I'd be in a different situation. I'm okay." Arya hesitates, but extends her hand, hoping he'd take it so he'd understand that she really was okay. Luigi looks, before holding her arm with care. She gives it a squeeze before getting up to hit play and running over to start.

Luigi holds his breath. He has no idea what to expect.

(song of choice: lana del rey - groupie love. i also found a pole routine that matches if you want to skip/follow along because i wrote this entire next section analyzing this person's routine- search up hedwig shackle's dirty diana performance for the 2021 elite provocateur elite!!)

Arya straightens out her body, chin tilted upwards ever-so slightly. She struts over, circling around before placing her right arm on the pole, spinning herself once. She runs her hands from her abdomen up to her chest in a painfully seductive motion.

Her right arm again grabs the pole, having it slightly twist before she pushes her hips up and back, letting her left arm trail from her thighs up to her lower back. Her hips push back up before her body twirls around, legs splitting open to swing to the right before letting her body is afloat in the air.

She delicately places her feet on the ground before continuing. It had only been a few second, but Luigi is already captivated, taking notice of her bones protruding near the dip from her stomach into her legs, all while appreciating the fluidity of her movement.

She sinks to the ground, right arm still grasping the pole as her left arm supports the weight, bending her left knee before opening her right leg up and to her side wide before repeating and folding over herself.

Her her backside faces Luigi as she gracefully draws a circle with the opposite leg to propel herself up and spin around again. Both arms grasp the pole now, as she eyes Luigi directly. Her left arm gives a slap on her skin before grasping the pole and twisting around to the front and expertly arching her back down so far, her face touches the ground.

Her stomach and legs come down to touch the floor for a fleeting second. In no time, she throws her head back and lifts herself up with a leg extending itself back and outwards before sitting on her hind legs, her body suavely gliding onto the floor as she pushes herself forward and up, yet again.

She twists around on her knees before her right arm is gripping the pole, right leg drawing a perfect circle as her body pushes back a few more inches with ease. Her left leg bends inward as her right extends, pulling her body up and across the distance between her torso and the steel, impossible strength keeping her in the air and moving through it. Her chest heaves and slides itself onto the pole before she's lunging and throwing her head back, moving her body around to stand and letting her neck fall back.

Her curves move with ease, showing off her toned, smooth muscles before dropping right onto her knees to kneel for a fraction of a second before balancing the opening of her legs on her back, curved to accommodate for the weight of her decision. She pulls her leg back, twisting around to now lay on her stomach behind the pole. Her ministrations and moves continue, drawing Luigi in every second at a time.

Luigi doesn't know what to think, but he does know he's going to lose his mind after this is all over. She moved like her entire body was sown with the finest silk, smooth and bending to the will of the music. The music seemed to wrap around her figure, pushing and pulling at her skin and limbs where it was appropriate. He watched her, fighting against the heat of her unknowing stares when they locked eyes. Her face contorted at just the right times, following the dips and sighs that were in the background of the song. Her back arched the perfect amount while her stability in the air kept drawing words away and away from his mind. She was a painting that could move, beautifully capturing the urgency of the second, sharply twisting around or throwing her head back before gently contouring her figure to the sensuality the music demanded of her.

The song ends with her halfway up the pole with her tipped back, neck and some of her chest exposed as her hair fell back, lightly swinging from her dance. Her eyes met with his before she twists around the steel to safely glide and land on the floor. Her knees bend, lower back arches and sticking out as she returns to a normal position, scooting closer to the pole to rest her head. She's out of breath having attempted this routine after a while which was worse since she was barely getting sleep nowadays.

"So," Arya watches a silently pondering Luigi, "what do you think Luigi? Can I do this?" Arya's shame creeps up as she folds her legs up and hugs herself, taking the support of the steel beside her. Luigi's eyes flicker up to look at her, trying to find the words that could even express half of the vulnerability, sensuality, and absolute magic he just watched.

Luigi pushes himself onto his feet, stopping the automatic playlists that were filling the room with noise again. He looks over at Arya, silently asking for permission and she nods before stretching her legs out and supporting herself with both hands behind her shoulders. Luigi walks over and reaches his arm out. Arya's eyebrows jump before she grabs his arm and stands up. He looks down into her eyes before talking.

"Arya, you have no idea how beautiful that was." His eyes are looking back and forth between both sides of her face before he turns his head to the side, seemingly trying to stop the words he wants to say next. But her performance was so intellectually and emotionally stimulating that he can't stop himself from rambling.

"You were so in tune with the music, like you embodied and danced its essence. God, have you ever seen yourself in the mirror?" He runs a hand through his hair before stepping back and turning around, groaning and bending down to express frustration at Arya's blank expression. He turns around and scoffs, seeing Arya's amused smile. "Arya that was- Arya I've never seen anyone dance like that. You became that song. You absolutely drank the seduction of the song and painted it in front of me and I-" Arya had slowly walked closer to him, hands crossed with a face of wonder. She's slowly listening to every word and inflection in his voice, paying attention to how his arms flexed or relaxed when he emphasized certain points. She couldn't take her eyes off of the passion she was seeing, hearing, feeling - feeling in her pulse. His words were like a poem she was destined to listen to.

Luigi was still rambling before turning to address Arya directly.

"All I need you to do is trust me." Luigi stares, pleading with her at this point. He wanted to feel her, twist and dip her, but more than that, he wanted her trust. He saw something breathtaking in her and knowing she might trust him with that felt like someone was handing him a diamond.

Arya stares, repeating his words in his head.

All I need to do his is trust him.

She chanted it in her mind, nodding unknowingly as she stepped closer, dually aware of the pushback her own conscience was giving her.

How can you trust him?

Why would he trust you?

How could you let him?

She looks into his eyes. His eyes were drenched in truth and desperation, a vulnerability he was showing in exchange for her to just say the words.

Yes, Luigi, I trust you.

That's all she had to say. He was waiting, letting his emotions paint his eyes. Displaying an inner curiosity and desire to care for her. It was beautiful. Raw. Colorful.

Musical, even, if she translated the butterflies she felt in her stomach into sounds. The voices were getting louder but in front of him, it seemed like nothing mattered.

In front of his honesty, not a single lie could stand in their way.

"It will be slow, Luigi, but-" Arya pauses, realizing she's promising something that would change everything about her.

"I will trust you." Arya breathes it out with confidence, swaying on her feet lightly as her heart beat out of her chest. Luigi's eyes brightened as he took a step closer and whispered, staring down into her eyes, neck strained.

"Arya," he spoke into her soul, trying to placate the residual concerns she had, "are you sure? I want you to be happy. I want you to feel like you can be yourself around me." Luigi tests the waters, resting a hand on her shoulder. She can feel his hand trembling but she looks at him with unwavering confidence, making no effort to push him away. His shoulders relax upon realization. "I want to be your friend. I want to be emotional with you. I want to break the single rule that has kept you trapped your entire life. Please." Arya's eyes fall, pained at how genuinely he uttered the words and tried to navigate her fragile, tearing walls. He wanted to break a rule. She remembers the phoenix hairpin she wore before her grandmother's words resounded in her ears.

Rules are only rules until you decide to break them. Follow wisely.

Luigi was trying to be careful in slipping through the growing cracks, trying not to let himself create a scar that would make the rock rebound and harden itself again. There was discipline in his love. Arya steps even closer, their faces inches away as they were before, staring. Arya shakily takes her hand and places his free arm upon her waist. His cold hands make her neck fall back, bringing her lips even closer to his. She looks up into his eyes, watching his pulse throw itself hastily in a patterned madness against his neck, seen through her peripheral vision.

Luigi's hand slowly moves up and around her back. His fingers splay across the dip in the middle, touching the exposed skin as they both bend in unison. He bends forward as Arya's neck angles and drops back, hair falling to touch the ground as her leg extends. Luigi removes his hand before grabbing her leg from behind her knee, balancing himself on one foot as her body is pliable. His other foot straightens out behind me before he pulls her back up, resting his hands on her hips and allowing his extended leg to fold and support him before he's standing straight and Arya's hands are clasped around his neck.

He wastes no time before slowly turning her around. She removes an arm from one side of his neck, before grabbing her own. She trails behind him, grabbing the front of his throat as the other arm slides down his chest excruciatingly slow. The same arm of his grabs ahold of her fingers, drawing her body forward for which he pulls back. Arya matches the resistance, throwing her body back with an arch, a small curve before he spins her around and places his hand behind her neck, bending her over and down to the side. She looks back into eyes with an equal desire, before she pushes herself up, both hands on her sides as Luigi lets go.

"You're perfect." Luigi mutters the words before calming his thoughts. "I think you did enough for today." He smiles, holding her forearm and giving it a soft squeeze. Arya places her free arm on top of the one touching hers before reciprocating the action and telling him "I think you did more" and walking away to get a drink. Luigi watches her, letting go of a breath he didn't know he was holding. He feels giddy, absolutely sure that he is stepping into territory he shouldn't.

He's falling in love.

Arya's heart hammers out of her chest as she downs the water, quenching her parched lips. The cool liquid refreshes her throat and being, humming the song quietly to distract herself from the sensation of the moment. She quietly retraced the path his fingers drew while finishing the last few drops. She turns around to see Luigi packing and zipping his bag up before wearing his shoes. She stands quietly, waiting for him to make the next move. Luigi lets out a sigh after he's finishing organizing his items, looking back to see Arya.

"You're free to go. Thanks for today." Luigi walks over and smiles. Arya nods: "Of course. What time tomorrow?" She watches him think, but notices a small dip in shoulders, showing disappointment. She doesn't quite know where it's coming from, but she knew it was there. "How about we do it in the morning? That way I can get out of your way quicker." Luigi proposes this but Arya's eyebrows furrow. "You're not in my way Luigi. Same time tomorrow then." Arya makes the final decision before walking away with the water and sweatpants. She walks and exits the door before taking a few steps back. Luigi is still halfway across the room, making his way to the door before stopping to see what Arya has to say.

"Hey?" He asks confused. Arya smiles before twiddling her thumbs, hesitant but eventually telling him, "You should come over again."

She walks away, leaving Luigi both dumbfounded and ecstatic.

if you want to be added to my taglist, please comment on my PINNED BLOG POST, not any other post!

this is a slowburn romance/adventure and eventual smut fic. stick around <3

@poohkie90 @madkohi

#angelluigiposts #luigi mangione #luigi mangione fic #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione smut

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silvr-skreen · 1 year ago

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Any random HCs for MFN (OC or canon) you want to share but haven't had the chance to?

OH BOY DO I? This is going to be incredibly long

Headcanons:

none of the puppets can swear if a child is around. Like physically can't. it's a failsafe Al added JUST IN CASE. they can if everyone is an adult however, but usually dont.... usually.

i am a gordon transman truther and i am going to die protecting my truth. grumpy old man deserves the world

also a ray HOH truther. i dont think his hearing was ever the same after the sewers and all that heavy machinery.

In relation to the last headcanon, he only got hearing aids after failing to hear the fire alarm during a drill... gordon found him inside and confused as to where everyone was. ray got his hearing aids the literal next day.

i like to think al was initially intending a lot more with the show, but got kind of trapped in the "doing what's always been done" and cutesy kid stuff. Especially since i can see the CNBG blocking him

they turned down a lot, and Al had never been bold enough to try and push back, beause he was afraid of losing hat he'd worked for.

RICHIE TIME. Richie is indian/mexican. he first tried to get into other shows or movies after leaving MFN but ironically... hated how grim they all were. there wasn't even an ounce of goodness unless it was to be used as a misdirection.

One of the things the CNBG pushed back on was the puppets (or at least some of them) having different races/ethnicities/nationalities etc. because Al wanted it to feel like a real neighborhood.

Pearl is Singaporean, Norman is hispanic on his mother's side, Ricky is african american, and Ray is scottish/irish, Gobblette is from Appalachia. The other puppets are still kind of a WIP on my end deciding

All puppets can clone themselves, they just need enough material. Larger puppets require more material in general, and so clone less.

The dogs are mostly clones. Started w/ just Mahoney and then they cloned themself twice into the other 2.

Puppets like Pearl, Ray and Gobblette who are large and fully dexterous (have you seen pearl leap?) have inner metal frames, theyre not particularly hard or poke-y, but they help hold the puppets structure like bones.

Gordon is physically disabled in some capacity, personally i've got a few headcanons on that, such as the asthma and a bad knee (as well as some others that are a bit in the realm of spoilers for my fic sorry lol)

He also has multiple medals. (three to be specific, but i cant tell you what 2 are yet.

Gordon to me is the biromantic ace guy who just never understood the appeal but shrugged it off like "im sure everyone dreads that part of a romance and just does it because its something you do."

Shirley coming back (hell even just being alive) was a shock to every puppet who doesn't go to the basement. they didnt know that one of her made it to the basement and stayed hidden with ray. Pearl stared at her for like a solid 2 minutes while trying to figure out if she was real.

ow this was exactly as long as i was expecting. i probably have many more i cannae remember em tho.

#my friendly neighborhood #mfn game #mfn

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uptochxnce · 7 months ago

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[ LEE DOHYUN, CIS MAN, HE/HIM] — i’m pretty sure that was just CHANCE CHOI of THE RICH AND FAMOUS that just passed by. the TWENTY-SEVEN year old ACTOR has been a resident here in the upper east side for FIVE YEARS. they’re known for being WITTY & DEBONAIR, but i overheard someone mention they’re also SLY & IMPULSIVE…considering they’re an SCORPIO i think there might be some truth to it. but maybe that’s just because they’re always worried someone might find out about REDACTED. something about them has always reminded me of THE SMELL OF THE OCEAN, SUNLIGHT FLITERING THROUGH YOUR FINGERS, ICED COFFEE ON A HOT DAY but maybe that’s just because they like to PAINT & DECORATE in their free time.

QUICK STATS

name: chance choi

nickname(s): n/a

gender: cis man

pronouns: he/him

age: 27

dob: nov 15th 1996

pob: los angeles california

orientation: bi-sexual (closeted)

social group: the rich and famous

APPEARANCE

height: 5'10"

build: lean/muscular

ethnicity: korean

eye colour: brown

hair colour: black

notable features: cute smile

style: casual (but in designer clothes)

tattoos: n/a

piercings: n/a

PERSONALITY

positive traits: witty, debonair, kind, charming,

negative traits: sly, impulsive, selfish, needy, reckless

likes: late night drives, italian food, hot baths, swimming, painting, decorating

dislikes: heatwaves, the smell of cooked onions, spicy food, ketchup

CAREER & EDUCATION

current occupation: actor

past occupation(s): n/a

degree(s): n/a

BIOGRAPHY

tw: sex, drugs as the son of a famous hollywood director, no one was surprised when chance appeared in his first movie when he was barely three years old; doe-eyed and confused, his father feeding him every line with a proud smile on his face. yet somehow he thrived, many claiming it was because his mother had been a popular actress back in south korea so it must have run in his blood. by the time he turned 10 he’d been in more movies than he could possibly remember, he was hollywood’s favourite child star, a nepo baby beloved by the world for his adorable appearance and natural skill. it was only by luck (and perhaps good genetics) that he aged into an attractive young man, growing out of his boyish charms and showing the world he was destined to be a successful leading man. yet a chance grew up he lived a rather particular and unusual life. he never attended a real school, his classroom had been in a trailer on set alongside other child actors. the only prom he ever attended was in a movie, and he’d grown up put on a pedestal, his privacy non-existence, invaded by masses of fans and paparazzi trying to get the latest scoop on hollywood’s Golden Boy. but chance kept his good reputation despite that, he was known for being kind albeit a bit oblivious at times. yet as he began to get older, this pressure of perfection slowly began to weigh him down, leaving him confused as to if he really knew who he was, or if he’d just been conditioned into the person he was raised to be. this may have been how he slowly began to resent his perfect image, starting to allow his impulses to take control. pictures of him partying at clubs began to flood the tabloids, his arms wrapped around a new pretty girl every few months. it was like he wanted to show the world he wasn’t the golden child they wanted him to be, he was adult, he was messy, he was human just like them, he could make mistakes. and mistakes he certainly did make. being rich and famous meant the world was all but on a silver platter for him, his ‘friends’ encouraged his bad habits, from sex to drugs, he let himself go wild, ultimately ending up in more than one scandal, getting labelled as an ex-child star now acting out to seem mature. it took damage control from his PR team to clean up his reputation, though behind closed doors chance was still the same mess he’d grown to be. yet to the rest of the world, he was back on screen, starring in blockbusters and charming fans with his sweet smile.

HEADCANONS

he is bisexual, with no lean in either direction. however, he’s never publicly been in a relationship with a man because he’s worried about his reputation as an actor.

as a child chance got his start acting because his father used to put him in his films, which eventually lead to him getting speaking roles

he’s acted in most genres as a teen/young adult he’s did a lot of YA franchises. but now as an adult he favours acting in action films and dramas.

he has many accolades and has been nominated for several oscars, but only won once.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

childhood friend: someone else who may have grown up in entertainment industry, they could have acted in the same film or just known each other by chance.

best friend: someone in around the same age as him that he trusts with the wold, and may be one of the few people who know his secret

celebrity status: another celebrity he may have worked with whether in a film, or as brand ambassadors for something

old sweethearts: they have previous had a very public relationship, and while they dated they were beloved by the press. but may have broken up due to schedule or personal differences.

publicity stunt: someone he had a PR relationship with, which may have been beneficial to them both (brought them publicity for dating a celebrity, and may have been a cover for him from a recent scandal)

#wealth_intro #drugs tw

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staliamazing · 1 year ago

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tag game TEHEH

name: sarah !!!! c'est moi

age: twenty, to be twenty-one soon-ish. i am planning a party. will i go through with it? who's to say.

star sign: taurus sun, capricorn rising, gemini moon. i have beef with geminis so the last one deeply upsets me.

first language: english

second language: je parle français !!

i was near fluent and have my B2 but don't practice anymore. i am considering getting back into it because i feel i need more hobbies and highly regret throwing out all my textbooks and notes. (that's a whole other story i LOVED school and threw out all my damn notes and stuff?!?!? sarah you dumb dumb)

favorite lip product: that lush lip scrub! i've lost my peppermint tub but anticipate it turning up when i least expect it. my lips always has excess skin peeling off for some reason so its great to feel exfoliated!

the best food dish you can make without a recipe? um. pizza bread! pizza, pizza sauce, cheese. eat up friends!

if you drink tea, what kind? none, get away from me. SOMETIMES lipton peach iced tea but only if im at mad mex.

if you drink coffee, what roast do you usually get? see last answer. i get the jitters.

favorite thing to watch on youtube right now: THE BALD AND THE BEAUTIFUL. i;ve been watching upwards of two episodes every night in bed.

favorite thing to watch on youtube in 2012: for sure mormon family vloggers. pick a channel i probably watched them. i have no fucking clue why!

favorite item of clothing right now: new graphic tee! the alice oseman x everpress collab with this gorg patchwork design and all little queer and trans doodles over it! the proceeds went to LGBTQIA+ refugees <3 i fucking love graphic tees holy shit

favorite item of clothing in 2012: some form of graphic leggings im certain.

fandom -

three movies you recommend: the half of it on netflix - watched recently and was confused but pleasantly surprised

your favorite concert: either one i went to with my gf! they were both great experiences even though i was shitting myself before both because i have a lot of sound and crowd sensitiivities ( # actually autistic). i loved being in the pit for ATL despite not knowing any songs and i like how you can feel the music inside you.

have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? no i've actually followed someone because i love getting mad <3 over time i have grown to really respect them and where their views come from which im proud of because i can be a bit close-minded.

the best tv show you watched last year: i watch a lot of shows! recently though i watched euphoria and understood the hype. couldn't rewatch though. it felt like a disservice to the shock factor i feel like the show really feeds off.

do you have a fancasting you just can’t let go of? don't pay much attention to fancasts!

a ship you’ve abandoned: im so sorry amy and rory from doctor who... i legit met them too. it just doesnt hit the same and im glad they divorced. amy was too swept up in the doctor and rory is a damn sweetheart who honestly deserves better. ALSO maya and lucas from girl meets world - bit random honestly why did they do that. lucas and riley from day one. maya and zay!

on a scale of 1-10 how willing are you to share your ao3 history? 7? depends on who to! anyone on here sure. not real people they'd be like "what do you mean you like fics where that little thug man wears short skirts" they just wouldnt UNDERSTAND

what fandom do you wish was bigger? tori spring fandom! maybe it is and i just dont know but.

do you have a fandom tattoo? yah, the fandom of my high school english teacher! most of my tats are literary inspired and specifically books i read in school for the curriculum.

my others are - phoebe bridgers related

gf related (she tattooed me) (fave fandom) (she's the best)

has a finale ever ruined a show for you? definitely i just can't remember which lmao im sorry

have you…

swam in an ocean? yep! swam is a strong word though. i've been in and bobbed up and down! i usually run from the tide.

been vegan/vegetarian? both! at different times. it was very much part of my friend and family culture growing up.

gone skinny dipping? yes, in my exs best friends dads girlfriends dead uncles pool :) honestly 10/10 swimming with clothes on is so random? i think its so beautiful how people look under the blue wavy water of the pool.

gone skiing? no i am scared of the snow since learning about crevasses in year 4 and almost falling off a ski lift at a very young age. i do love the cold and the ski lodge episode of gmw though.

thanks for the tag @iansw0rld, these are fun :)

#tag game

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tragicdiary · 2 years ago

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🚬🩰🎀

I first watched “the virgin suicides” when I was thirteen years old. I remember sitting on my bed, stuffed with baby pink blankets and soft pillow as I was watching Cecilia Lisbon giving the best sentence ever given on cinematic universe;

"What are you doing here, honey? You're not even old enough to know how bad life gets.”

"Obviously, Doctor," she said, "you've never been a thirteen-year-old girl.”

✧ʚ .·:*¨༺♡༻¨*:·. ɞ✧

From that moment, I knew I had found my film.I had spent whole summer watching it again and again and again. Crying, I would try to analyze why the girls had done what they had done, but from an actual teenage girl perspective. I loved this movie so much. I loved the dialogue and the plot and the character. I was so mesmerized by it and I never knew why.

When I showed my friend this film, the first thing he said to me is “you are literally Lux in real life”. I wish I was making this up. I personally find myself in all of the sisters. mostly it is Lux though, because she likes to cry, heavy metal, cigarette-rotten boys, and…well, a rather deeper and much more depressing reason.

I was head over heels for Trip Fontaine. I hated him, but I was still in love him. He reminds me so much of my long term crush. The crush I had met on the first day of 7th grade. I was in love with him the second I laid my eyes on him, that’s not a joke. It’s been like that for the past four years and I still get butterflies everytime I catch him looking at me. I think of him every time Trip is on my screen. I know he is so much like Trip. so I hate him. but if I’m being honest, I would still probably act exactly like Lux.

By this point I’m probably fourteen. And I have watched the film fourteen hundred times, probably. I had decided it’s time to read the book, and I was not ready for it will cause me. Oh my god. The book. I must have read it more than any other person on this planet. It’s so good, and tragic and beautiful. It’s everything I wanted it to be, better even. To get a closer glimpse of the girl’s life was all I wished for, and I got much more than that.

I’m fifteen now. The age Lux killed herself. I’m going on sixteen, and it’s so weird and confusing for me. I cant pretend I’m happy of growing up, because I’m not. I don’t like the feeling of getting older. I don’t like knowing I should be more mature. That I should stop doing stupid things and expect nothing in return.

“The virgin suicides” is my life and I cant let it go. I never will. Even when I won’t be a teenage girl anymore, and maybe get over my crush, and stop smoking, and stop skipping, and maybe when I’m happy. It will always be in my heart and in my soul. And it is so important to me that it will. Because it kept me alive. I don’t mean literally, maybe I do, in some way. But I mean spirituality. It has kept me yearning for a purpose. Of not being like those five sisters who died too beautiful and too soon.

I read the book three times a year, give or take. And I watch the film once a month. Every month. In some weekend night where I can’t seem to stop crying. “The virgin suicides” is a masterpiece. It is the most beautiful and wonderful thing in this world. It is real and raw and special. I’m fifteen and I feel, so deeply, “the imprisonment of being a girl”.

#the virgin suicides #lux Lisbon #Sofia Coppola #Lisbon sisters #the virgin suicides style #coquette #coquette aesthetic #pink blog #angelcore #nymphett #lizzy grant #girl interrupted syndrome #girl interrupted #trip Fontaine #dollete #dollcore #coquette style

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etphonemom · 1 year ago

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I look down at the bone, the size of an average adult human's femur. Maybe it was overlooked amongst all of the fossils, even though I don't know how. I can clearly see it's different from everything that came with it. Oh well, if it was a mistake I can at least try and find out who it belongs to.

I shrug it off and take a final gulp of water. I sit down, plant my feet firmly on the ground and meditate for a moment

I remind myself who I am. When and where I was born. How many siblings I have, my mother's favorite movie, my other mother's favorite song, all of the pets I had the blessed opportunity of caring for, I then list 5 of my firsts (I make sure none of them are the same as the previous ritual, repetition is okay but I find it's better when it's atleast not twice in a row).

This time I am absorbed in the memory of my first sleepover. It was with two of my cousins, I was 9. One of them was 13 and the other was 8. I remember trying to impress the older one by begging the 8 year old to turn off their nightlight. It backfired. I woke up in the middle of the night, thinking there was a monster in the room because I couldn't see. I wet the bed, luckily my little cousin took the blame for me the next day.

I remember my first time at an amusement park. I wet myself on the ride where you go straight up high in the sky and it drops you down super fast.

I remember the first time I was scared and didn't wet myself. I was 12, I had just changed schools in the middle of the school year. I got lost and wandered into the boy's locker room, where I felt I truly belonged but knew I wasn't safe there. I heard a few boys outside and I ran into one of the stalls. I was scared I was going to get beat up again. I counted three voices, I had no way of escape even if I caught them by surprise. I could feel my fear cause me to lose control of my bladder. I pull my pants down and sat on the toilet. This time I shat. I remember the boys being grossed out by the smell they left the bathroom immediately. I had never been so thankful for my ability to shit in my entire life.

(Don't worry, not all of these firsts are bathroom related. One first makes me think of similar ones and I tend to have a few on the same route.)

I remember my first period. I thought I was dying and I called 911. Actually... I don't want to think too much about that one. It was quite embarrassing. Luckily my parents were only mad at first when they thought I was trying to pull a prank. When they found out what was going on they were very gentle with me. I usually hate when people try to tiptoe around my feelings, but I will forever be thankful for that day. Though I'll never admit it.

And lastly, I thought about the first time I ever lived alone. (Told you they weren't all bathroom related.) It didn't last long, I begged my cousin to move in with me since we were both out of highschool. They surprisingly were on board pretty fast. I had a whole speech I planned to say to guilt them as well as convince them it was the most logical thing to do. I'm grateful my cousin waited to move out until I was ready. I'm also grateful they installed cameras at every entrance for me.

I take a few deep breaths and finally, I am ready to touch the femur. My biggest fear is seeing into another life and forgetting my own. It feels like how a dream feels real, but tenfold. And even when I snap out of it, I get confused for about 10-30 seconds. It may not seem long to the average person, but it feels like an eternity.

I shake my fears and slowly reach my arm forward.

I'm in a deep hole surrounded by dirt. I'm digging and digging. My arms are burning, my hands have blisters and they sting. I hear yelling. I look up, squinting. The sun is blinding me through my sorry attempt at shading my eyes. I see a tall silhouette. They walk around above me to the other side of the hole, blocking the sun. Intentionally. I see his face. I feel fear and disgust. I see the end and I'm almost relieved. Relieved my suffering will be no more, but I'm also scared. A fear I have never felt before in my life. He kicks some dirt in my direction, causing me to cough while also stinging my eyes.

After my tears help wash them out, I see bones in the sides of the hole I'm in, close to my knees. I would say I'm about 8-10 feet deep. I imagine how long these bones have been here. If they met the same fate as mine. I wonder if I will ever be found. If they'll ever find who did this, if they would even care. I look back up with pure hatred in my eyes. I ensure his face is scarred into my brain until the end of time. I then pray. Not necessarily to a god, I'm still not sure if I believe in one. I pray to something bigger than myself. I pray that he makes a mistake of some kind that will lead to my discovery, I pray he gets into a car accident and dies slowly, I pray he gets too drunk at a bar and starts a fight with the wrong guy. I pray for something anything, if not for me but to prevent this happening again. I pray and pray, I look up and see his shovel matching my own. He bashes my head with his. I refuse to fall so easily. After the fourth one I'm laying on my side. Still slightly lucid. I continue to pray. I feel the dirt cover my face. I feel my lungs fighting the uninvited guest. After a long and excruciating minute or so, I awake.

I'm gasping for air, Lila is splashing water on my face, shaking me. I feel my pants get warm but I don't care. It's not due to my fear and lack of control. This is someone else's fear. Her prayer worked in a way she wouldn't have imagined. Whoever that piece of shit was buried her at what eventually became an archaeological site. And the discoveries at that site eventually brought her to me. And his face is scarred into my brain, I allow it. I grab a pencil and paper near me, leaving Lila dumbfounded. I probably look crazy but I don't care. I make a rough sketch of his face.

After I am satisfied with my drawing I sit back and think. Where are the rest of her bones? Was she actually buried at the site this was brought from? Who put this there? Was someone hoping I'd be the one to find it? Only a small group of people know about my gift... Those who do know are aware that I refuse to touch dead humans. Maybe they thought if they asked me directly I'd say no. Did they assume I wouldn't have been able to differentiate a human bone from a fossil? I can't truly blame them for trying to trick me. I knew it was human and I still touched it.

"Lila, where and who did this batch come from? And can you take over my responsibilities for a few days? I will make sure you are paid well for it. I have something I need to do."

That motherfucker looked young, how much you want to bet he's still alive. If I am the answer to that poor girl's prayer then he should be. And I'm gonna make him pay.

I selfishly wish I could go back in time before I touched it. Maybe bring it to the police, my curiosity got the best of me. I've felt another living being's pain and suffering before but it was usually due to natural causes, or the food chain. I've never felt suffering at the hands of a sadistic prick. I'll never be able to forget that feeling. I'll make sure he doesn't either.

You’ve always had the gift; touching the dead you live their last moments through their eyes. As a paleontologist, it helped you recreate scenes from by-gone eras in astonishing detail. However, this time, you wish you hadn’t touched the fossil.

#sorry i know its technically not what the prompt suggested #he knowingly touched a bone and not a fossil #but i couldnt help myself #the story came pouring out of me #writing prompts #tumblr writers #writing prompt #my writing #writers on tumblr

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theharpermovieblog · 6 months ago

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#HARPERSMOVIECOLLECTION

2024 MOVIE LIST

www.tumblr.com/theharpermovieblog

PHANTASM SEQUEL WEEK

I watched Phantasm 5: Ravager

This is part three of Phantasm Sequel Week , but it's the fifth film in the series. Is that confusing? Probably, but remember I was depressed when I watched these back to back in one day. Don't question it.

The character of Reggie finds himself questioning whether his fight against The Tall Man is real, whether he has dementia, or whether both realities are true.

This is the only Phantasm film not directed by Don Coscarelli. Although Coscarelli did co-write and produce the film, the directing credit goes to David Hartman. Hartman seems to be an animation director, and one I'm not familiar with. Several internet links give directing credit to a Journalist also named David Hartman, but that's not correct.

"Phantasm 5" is pretty cheap looking. They do their best with the budget they have I guess, but this feels a lot more like the episodic Internet show it was supposed to be, rather than a real movie.

Truthfully, while it leaves a lot to be desired when it comes to production, I don't hate the overall story idea. The focus on Reggie's sanity and the idea that his dementia may be, much like dreams, a link to other dimensions, is a good idea for the series. It's that high minded, surreal, out there, incomprehensible craziness that made this film series so iconic. I liked this so much, I found myself wishing it had been executed a little better. It's pretty muddy storytelling and never really feels like it's building to something. When the ending comes we don't feel the connection to the characters or to the 5 film arc that we should.

However, all in all, this no-budget, cheap looking, muddy film did give me a little joy. I'm a fan of the series, despite its many many MANY missteps, I get what it's trying to do with it's mixture of B-Horror gore, sci-Fi world building, and heady concepts of reality. For me, it's very much the thought that counts with this series.

Are most of the Phantasm movies bad? Yeah, technically they're really bad. In almost every department they often slip-up or outright never get the hang of things. And, none of the sequels even came close to the original in any way. However, Phantasm is sort of like the little horror franchise that could. Completely uninterested in mass audience appeal or box office numbers. I admire that.

#phantasm sequel week #phantasm 5 #phantasm 5: ravager #phantasm

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songs-about-girls-like-me · 1 year ago

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chapter 12: my love for sleepovers, explained

(a/n this one is kinda long and kinda soppy but I can't make it sound different. I've tried, sorry lol)

It was november, and I was the only one left to turn 11 now cause we were at Ella's house for her birthday. She was technically turning 11 next monday but I was already getting some "you, baby" comments from her and she was having me and Liv over for a sleepover. It was the first Time I was visiting her house and it's wild to think we only spent three whole school years hanging out in that room, cause it really became That Room for my early teenager self. Shoutout Ella's 2010-2013 room, you'll be remembered forever.

So, let me backtrack a bit. I had been to one (1) Sleepover, with a capital S, before. Olivia and I would sleep at each other's houses every so often, but we wouldn't really consider them sleepovers (e.g. that Time we threw a chair down her staircase was originally us trying to rearrange her TV room for us to sleep there). The proper Sleepover I had ever been to, we were at least 10 or 15 girls and it had been some months ago during 4th grade.

I had cried because of my phobia to that specific food and some girls tried to console me but I asked them to please stay away. Later, I ate like four giant muffins I still dream of to this day cause they were THAT good and managed to forget about my phobia. Then at some point in the night, I got on a couch and pretended to be Justin Bieber at a concert and said stuff like "I love all of you, beautiful girlies" to my classmates, everyone wearing pijamas. I sang a bit of Baby and they all screamed and pretended to want to touch my hands and stuff, as if I was on stage and then I literally caused a physical fight (lol) between Max (who was an asshole) and another classmate who was the most obsessed with Justin, cause I was singing directly to one of them or something along those lines. I don't remember, but I do know I was never cautious when playing a flirt as a kid lol. And so they started playing fight over Justin Bieber, and then actually fighting, cause Max could get on everyone's nerves. In a matter of seconds, between the pillow punches and the pushing and screaming, we all saw real red blood and stopped playing. Max had a blody nose, and then the other girl ALSO got a bloody nose. Never underestimate the might of the bond between a girl and her "loml celebrity". She's not messing around lol.

To be honest, I was a bit amused when both girls literally ended up with blood dripping down their faces for my Justin impersonation, even more because Max was always mocking me and she said "I'd pay for that". And I shrugged and laughed, which always felt like victory. I still apologized to my other classmate and to everyone else for causing the fight cause it did felt a bit out of line, but they all agreed I was not the one to blame and said it had been very funny. The rest of the night I was kinda bored cause I didn't have a friend there cause Liv hadn't been invited. And the homemade oatmeal facemasks we did were confusing to me, even if they smelled nice, and then i fell asleep early while everyone watched "Sleepover" (that movie from 2004 starring the girl from Spy Kids) cause the plot was boring and why were they stealing a dude's boxers?

Later I woke up to some girls trying to prank me, told them I was actually awake (lie) and asked them to "please chill" and they actually let me be, to wake up the next day hoping my mom would arrive before they gave us eggs for breakfast cause I hate eggs. And even if it had been fun, I was ready to go home to my sisters and stuff. I don't know how to put it but I think that whole story is exactly what my status was on the social hierarchy at the Time lol. And even if that's a core memory, it was not even comparable to this Sleepover.

Ella had explained that her parents had moved her to the ground floor bedroom because her 3 year old brother was taking the room they used to share upstairs. He had a Cars bedframe. Ella said she didn't have a walk-in closet anymore but the bedroom itself was cooler and she had a bathroom of her own and a double bed. She was being a biiiit of a show off that day at school but I guessed it was fair to allow it since it was her birthday. She had only invited me and Olivia from school, but she also invited her childhood bestie, and two other girlfriends who were family friends or something and must have been 13 at least.

I remember changing into our pijamas for the evening, leaving all of my stuff on Ella's mini couch in one corner of her room. I was wearing a pijama set, as the rest of the girls lol. Mine was from Barbie, in a green, hot pink and white colorway. I loved that the top was one of those that look like you're wearing a short-sleeves over a long-sleeves. The oldest girl was wearing a tank top and pijama shorts and I remember being so impressed by how chill and cool she looked. We then just hung out and Ella showed us around the house in our socks, carrying our stuffed animals around. She and I obviously used the open space of her kitchen to practice our pirouettes and grand battements. We played music on someone's iPod and spent a long Time doing our hair in Ella's bathroom and I think during these hours my brain released a ridiculous amount of dopamine cause I can remember it as if I had lived it many Times. There were multiple hair straightners and one of them was cheetah print, and it all made me feel like I had been transported to a movie bedroom or a music video set. I had never used a hair straightener but I loved it the minute I passed the heat over my hair. I had naturally quite straight hair, with just some wave to it, but I still straightened it to the max and the quality of it changed to feel way silkier and flowy, just the way healthy hair does with heat. It fell beautifully over my shoulders over my Barbie pijama shirt. It moved so nicely when I danced and I was screaming singing in the bathroom mirror with a bunch of girls, my two best friends included. I put one side of my hair behind my ear. It looked so pretty. But it also looked so nice when I put both sides behind my both ears. And when I would run my hands through it making it really messy. I looked so pretty. And everyone around me was so pretty and so fun in my eyes. I loved how it looked. My hair, myself and the scene I was in, but I was too bussy dancing to 2010's pop to have realisations about any of it which was awsome. Ella showed me the tiny purple hair straightner she used everyday to do her side bangs for school and I actually thought it was fucking amazing that she had a mini-sized straightner. We all danced almost screaming these lyrics I barely even knew. My hair was so straight and I just kept passing the straightener over it for fun, when Olivia entered the bathroom.

"Who's straightening my hair?"

"Me" I said.

"Look! Your bones are showing!" Ella was pointing at Olivia's hip bones.

"Huh?" went Liv.

"Look. These little bones. Ugh, that's so cool. I wish I had that!"

"Uhm" Liv just shrugged. "I just have them"

"Mine also show!" I said looking down above the waist band of my pijama pants.

"Uhm..." Ella took a look. "Nah, not that much"

I frowned. Looked in the mirror.

"Yes, they do." I went. I didn't know if she was being sincere or not, or maybe she didn't want to be the only one with no hip bones showing. I didn't care much and shurgged too.

"Why am I so fat?!!" Half-screamed Ella.

"You're not fat!!!!! Jesus!!!" Everyone said something similar.

"You're so fucking pretty, Ella" said Victoria, one of her older friends. She was two years above us at school and took the school transport with her. She really cursed so much but she sounded edgier than us. "Say it with me: I am really hot" Ella laughed but said she wasn't. Then the six of us started a communal discussion going "Yes, you are" - "You're wrong". Victoria was aggressively stating Ella was skinny and pretty and even very hot, and it was very funny to witness and she was laughing a lot too. And in the end, Olivia started fighting her physically cause that was their thing, and they would end up bitting each other. Which always made everyone laugh about how violent they both could get. But no actual blood was spilt.

In the midst of that, someone asked if we should play to be "Miss Universe" contestants and do a runway show. And the dopamine in my head had another peak at the idea cause it sounded genius. They said we should even do a talent show round and I took a jumping rope from Ella's coat rack. I did my number, doing double jumps and all, and everyone said I was really good and I was ecstatic cause they seemed genuinely surprised. I told them I had learnt from watching Jump In. I remember Ella and her childhood bestie chose to sing, and each of them did a song and we turned the lights out to pretend to be at a concert or something, with the rest of us crammed up in the bed. I liked both of their numbers and we cheered and clapped for them as if they deserved grammy nominations.

Later we had cake upstairs, in the kitchen, with Ella's mom and brother. Her mom took pictures and we all cheered for Ella's 11th year of life. We also had dinner and I was glad we had quesadillas. After a while they left us to be alone and Victoria asked if we wanted to play "Never Have I Ever", which I had never played but they said it was kind of like "Truth or Dare" and I was down. We played with glasses of water, sitting crossed legged on the kitchen chair, feeling the wood against my socks.

Never had I ever kissed anyone, dated anyone, liked two people at a Time, or liked a girl. But I had had a crush and had liked a friend. Both were Brody, who now I thought was lame and was currently "dating" Mia after the school camp, but it still counted. Most things I had never done but I was still giggling and having a great Time and we all were screaming from Time to Time. I couldn't stop giggling and moving around in my chair, listening to everyone telling stories. Olivia was almost the same as I, but she had kissed someone (she would tell this crazy story about a kindergarten kiss and even a kindergarten boyfriend, but I felt like she was lying about the boyfriend cause the other Time she had told me that story, she also added in the fact that she had lockers in kindergarten and that she had locked herself inside hers for a whole school day to miss all her classes. Which seemed completely made up, no matter how different London kindergarten could be. I couldn't be completely sure, though.) Ella had kissed her neighbor, a dude a year older than us, and I was screaming with butterflies at the story and she was blushing and we all teased her about it. Her other three friends had even dated. The bubbly feeling in my heart was so fun to have around.

That sleepover was the first Time I straightened my hair on my own and the first Time I straightened someone else's hair, and the first Time I watched "Aquamarine", and the first Time I heard the term "make out" and the term "hook up", and even if I had already known about s* x for two years by then, I think the concept of "feeling someone up while kissing" (as they described it) lowkey changed my brain irreversibly, even more since the concept was being used talking about people who were just two years above us. I was a bit shook to my core, even more than when I had found out about oral s* x and p* rn. We chatted for what felt like hours back in Ella's room, sitting on what would become the iconic green rug until we went to sleep. Good sleepovers feel a bit like punching a hole into normal life to me, like a weird pocket of spacetime. To this day I can feel it, when going to sleep really late after a really good Time with my friends, when I am not sad or in my head or realising heavy stuff, and I feel as if nothing really bad could reach me. The world stops existing until we wake up. Sort of like AM by 1d lol.

The next morning my mom picked me up early cause we had weekend plans or something and she was a bit on her nerves cause I was taking really long to go out to the car. I was finishing straightening someone's hair sitting on the unmade bed while watching the last bit of Aquamarine. And I don't know how, but I felt like I was the master of hair straightning and no one questioned it. I wore my clothes from the day before and still felt really happy and surprised about how pretty my hair was. I wished a happy birthday to Ella for the millionth Time after laughing our heads off to some idiot joke, and got in the backseat of the car to lay down, talking to my mom who thankfully got in a good mood quickly. I was still happy with the sleepover fever.

#chapter 12 #chapter twelve #sleepover #my love for sleepovers

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macchiatosdumptruck · 4 years ago

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Writing silverusso porn and I look at the canon for reference and ... I cannot write them saying shit like that.

I am writing Porn. And I'm like--

"um. Seems a bit unrealistic"

and these guys were just out here doing That.

Saying those Things.

Like it wasn't gay as shit. In a supposedly platonic environment. Like it wasn't in a pg 13 kids movie about karate. Like Ralph wasn't getting paid to say "yes, sir" with giant Bambi eyes while an extremely large man was putting his hands all over him.

#every three days i remember this movie is real and get confused #dont @ me but i still havent forced myself to watch the whole thing #'hey babe i know we were working on going through the alien franchise but can we switch to the karate kid franchise?'#'why?'#'you know that thing im writing about trauma and how it plays into our sexuality?'#'yeah.'#'i need to know if this is in character when they fuck. for artistic purposes.'#silverusso for ts

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fcistmike · 10 months ago

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I’m afraid you might just be stuck with me forever then. Cause me admitting defeat to that, is just about as likely as you admitting defeat to anything, and that says a lot, doesn’t it? It’s not that I don’t appreciate them, I do. I’m just awful at receiving them - you know this already by now. Hey c’mon now, there’s been so much hate towards Art, where is all of this coming from? It’s not like Tashi and Patrick are perfect either. The Art slander has been a bit much now and I’m gonna have to start defending my man for real I fear. All incredibly flawed people remember? We agreed on that, you can’t back out of that now Z. I’d probably go with the latter. I usually give up getting on people’s nerves after a while. With you though? It’s different. Cause it takes so little to annoy you and it’s actually just incredibly amusing to see you get so worked up. Especially when I know which buttons to push. Had you found it annoying, you would’ve told me to fuck off long ago, wouldn’t you? That’s what happens when you put three quiet, introverted and passionate people together. Had the three of us never worked together, there is no chance this movie could’ve ever been made. We were incredibly lucky to have all been put together in this sense. I haven’t had a stronger connection with my on screen people than this. Probably cause it was all so intimate, but still.. It’s not something one can take for granted, on or off set. Yeah you’re always there to help when panic stikes. We owe you a lot for that actually. Oh you know, I’m not sure how appreciated a skill like that is. People could fear I’m too good of acting like I’m interested when I’m not, and mistrust my judgement. But it’s also fun keeping people on the edge and guessing. Gotta stay mysterious after all, they say it’s part of my persona. Yeah I think I started losing it right around London.. That’s when I was starting to get really fed up with some questions and I’m not as professional as you actually are when it comes to seeming interested. Once that low energy level hits, I’m afraid I have no more fucks to give. Thankfully you always seem to have a few to spare and Josh is too much of a gentleman to ever seem uninterested. Still Z, forever in awe of you and how you handle it all. I know I know, you have a shit ton of experience in this department, but still.. It’s admirable. I’ll be telling them to put on their walking shoes. Yeah no don’t think they do for anyone. Scripts aren’t all made like this one.. I count us very lucky for getting our hands on it. Likewise Z, and you know it. It sure did… Didn’t know what I was walking into when I got this role, but whatever it was, and is, I’m glad I did. You know you’re not getting rid of me that easily unless you beat me with a tennis racket. Yeah even like your own bathroom? You don’t realize it when you’re gone.. But you start missing things you never thought you could ever miss. Thankfully, what I’m wearing is not up to me - much to your satisfaction I presume. We both know I could never style myself for this sort of thing. Still very much confused as to what I’ll be doing there. Of course you are.. There really is no stopping you so I won’t even attempt it. You know not everyone hates Art after the second viewing right? No tears at all please and if there are, then let me see them so I can at least wipe them. I’m a morning person, I can’t help it. But I’ve learned to use small language first thing in the morning.. I know how you work by now. And for the record, I will be missing you too. Every day. Don’t even doubt it. Did I ever say I was joking? Cause I wasn’t. I don’t actually think I could ever get tired of you. Even when you think it, and I say it, I am not tired of you. Promise you that. The bed is comfortable, that I promise and the shower is yours as long as there is hot water to run, you don’t even have to worry about it. Yeah no I think if there is any cooking to be done, it will be done by me. But takeout sound wonderful.,

Don't make me second guess being nice to you, that was from the heart right there. Funnily enough, no but I will keep bugging you until you finally admit defeat and take a compliment that's offered to you. Actually, I was more alluding to you acting as though you were entirely innocent throughout the entire movie. I will be slandering Art to anyone who will listen to me. You really do live to drive me crazy, don't you? Should I be offended you're trying to get on my nerves or flattered you're putting so much effort into me? Come on, as if things could ever be any different when we're together. We could never be awkward and unconventional. It just comes natural... with Josh too, of course. I have so much fun with the two of you. I'm glad I was there to help you whenever you entered silent mode. Wow, a new skill developed. You might want to add that on your resume. Hey, no biggie. Like you said, I've done this before and I know the two of you aren't as familiar with it. When you don't know what to expect, it can be a lot to process. Not only are you exhausted and jetlagged, but you're having the same questions asked and it's hard to come up with new, exciting answers each time. I had your back, no worries. They do get easier. Like everything, once you do it a fee times, you become more familiar with the way it works and then the fear of it kinda dissolves. Come on, people are going to be running to you now. Hey, scripts like this don't come all that often for me either. Like I've said before, this was so new for me. Uncharted territory and I'm so happy you were by my side through the entire thing. There's no one else I'd want to have spent my days with. Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. The words jumped off the page at me. I needed to be in this movie and I met you during it so I guess agreeing to this movie gave me more than just a role. Not sad at all, I know exactly what you mean. It's so comforting to be at home, wearing comfortable clothes, surrounded by your own things. We miss that while we travel so much. Your first MET. How are you feeling about it? Please don't be boring and wear a basic suit. That might be where I have to draw the line. Yeah, I'm excited to hear the fan reaction. It's going to be pretty fun to read all their opinions. I'm going to keep pushing everyone to see it a second time. Oh no. Can't go breaking your heart now can I? No tears, I swear, or at least none that you can personally see. That's absolutely not true, and you know it. I'm going to miss you everyday. Just not first thing in the morning when you're overly chatty and I'm still on sleep mode. Don't joke about this, Mike because I will take you up on the offer. Do you really want me taking over your home life? Even after all this time we've spent together, you're not tired of me yet? If you really wouldn't mind, I'd be down for that. Don't worry, I'm not expecting a 5 star hotel. Just a comfortable bed and a shower that I can spend far too long in will be all I need. As a thank you, I'd offer to cook for us, but last time I tried to make dinner, I ended up in the ER after nearly severing my finger. I can buy us takeout?

#╰ ━━━━ ✧ ⠀ 𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍. » dash interactions.

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unicornships · 3 years ago

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Just listened to this interview with Miles Teller, Glen Powell and Monica Barbaro and i’m dying with laughter throughout hahaha their dynamic is so much fun to listen to and they always pick on Glen and gang up against him xDDD It’s seriously just like Rooster and Phoenix against Hangman but in real life lol. I love their friendship!

Just a snippet transcript from part of their convo:

Miles: Can I turn Glen down in my headphones cos he’s super loud. Monica: He's just so excited. Glen: Can I get Miles out of that chair is that possible? Can we move Miles over to that table? Miles: Turn Monica up and mute Glen. Monica: Miles, I'm so glad you're here cos it's just been me against Glen this whole time. Miles: I mean, that was me for 8 months, yeah. Glen: Your voice irritates me. Host: Have you guys done any interviews together or is this like.. Glen: It's pretty new. We've been on set, I've been hearing his voice for a long time. We actually bunked together on the carrier. We would talk each other to sleep every night so it was a nightmare. Miles: There was no where to go on the carrier. Glen: No where to go.

And another:

Glen: We were spending the day in jets so it didn't feel like you were acting. In my opinion i felt - Miles: - Well you weren't. You definitely weren't. Glen: I'm the real deal. I'm method brother. I don't phone it in, man. Monica: Everything you see his character in the movie is Glen in real life. Just remember that when you see it. Glen: Yeah. *laughs* Glen: An ego that writes cheques my body can't cash. Yup, that's me.

Towards the end it’s even more hilarious:

Miles: cacaw! Monica: That kinda sounds like a crow. I think we need something like a Cockadoodle doo. Glen: A sassy Rooster I would say. A rooster that's having an identity crisis. This Rooster is confused. Monica: How does a Hangman sound? *everyone makes weird sounds hahaha*

Ah i love them. Their banter is so effortless and funny! Wish they would make these three do press interviews together but alas it’s over.

#top gun maverick #top gun #glen powell #monica barbaro #i'm cracking listening to them together #miles teller #top gun maverick cast #i'm rolling #they really pick on glen #jake seresin #natasha trace #hangman #phoenix #rooster #bradley bradshaw #funny

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c-is-for-circinate · 4 years ago

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For a long, large part of my life, being queer in a media landscape--finding queerness in a media landscape--has meant theft.

I'm a Fandom Old, somehow, these days, older than most and younger than some, in that way that's grown associated with grumpy crotchetyness and shotguns on porches and back in my day, we had to wade through our Yahoo Groups mailing lists uphill both ways, boring and irrelevant anecdotes from Back In Those Days when homophobia clearly worked differently than it does now, probably because we weren't trying hard enough. I've seen a lot of stories through the years. I've read a lot of fanfic. (More days than not, for the past twenty years. I've read a lot of fanfic.)

When people my age start groaning and sighing at conversations about representation and queerbaiting, when we roll our eyes and drag all the old war stories out again in the face of AO3 is terrible and Not Good Enough, so often what we say is: you Young Folks Today have no idea how hard, how scary, how limiting it was to be queer anywhere Back In Those Days. Including online, maybe especially online, including in a media landscape that hated us so much more than any one you've ever known. And that is true. Always and everywhere, again and again, it's true, we remember, it's true.

We don't talk so much about the joy of it.

Online fan spaces were my very first queer communities, ever. I was thirteen, I was fourteen, I was fifteen--I was a lonely, over-precocious "gifted kid" two years too young for my grade level in an all-girls' Catholic school in the suburbs--I lived in a world where gay people were a rumor and an insult and a news story about murder. I was straight, of course, obviously, because real people were straight and anyway I was weird enough already--I couldn't be two things strange, couldn't be gay too, but--well, I could read the stories. I could feel things about that. I would have those stories to help me, a few years later, when I knew I couldn't call myself straight any more.

And those stories were theft. There was never any doubt about that. We wrote disclaimers at the top of every fic, with the specter of Anne Rice's lawyers around every corner. We hid in back-corners of the internet, places you could only find through a link from a link from a link on somebody else's recs page, being grateful for the tiny single-fandom archives when you found them, grateful for the webrings where they existed. It was theft, all of it, the stories about characters we did not own, the videotaped episodes on your best friend's VHS player, one single episode pulled off of Limewire over the course of three days.

It was theft, we knew, to even try and find ourselves in these stories to begin with. How many fics did I read in those days about two men who'd always been straight, except for each other, in this one case, when love was stronger than sexual orientation? We stole our characters away from the heterosexual lives they were destined to have. We stole them away from writers and producers and TV networks who work overtime to shower them in Babes of the Week, to pretend that queerness was never even an option. This wasn't given to us. This wasn't meant for us. This wasn't ours to have, ever, ever in the first place. But we took it anyway.

And oh, my friends, it was glorious.

We took it. We stole. And again and again, for years and years and years, we turned that theft into an art. We looked for every opening, every crack in every sidewalk where a little sprout of queerness might grow, and we claimed it for our own and we grew whole gardens. We grew so sly and so skilled with it, learning to spot the hints of oh, this could be slashy in every new show and movie to come our way. Do you see how they left these character dynamics here, unattended on the table? How ripe they are for the pocketing. Here, I'll help you carry them. We'll make off with these so-called straight boys, and we only have to look back if somebody sets out another scene we want for our own.

We were thieves, all of us, and that was fine and that was fair, because to exist as queer in the world was theft to begin with. Stolen time, stolen moments--grand larceny of the institution of marriage, breaking and entering to rob my mother's hopes for grandchildren. Every shoplifted glance at the wrong person in the locker room (and it didn't matter if we never peeked, never dared, they called us out on it anyway). Every character in every fic whose queerness became a crime against this ex-wife, that new love interest. Every time we dared steal ourselves away from the good straight partners we didn't want to date.

And: we built ourselves a den, we thieves, wallpapered in stolen images and filled to the brim with all the words we'd written ourselves. We built ourselves a home, and we filled it with joy. Every vid and art and fic, every ship, every squee. Over and over, every straight boy protagonist who abandoned all womankind for just this one exception with his straight boy protagonist partner found gay orgasms and true love at the end.

Over and over, we said: this isn't ours, this isn't meant to be ours, you did not give this to us--but we are taking it anyway. We will burglarize you for building blocks and build ourselves a palace. These stories and this place in the world is not for us, but we exist, and you can't stop us. It's ours now, full of color and noise, a thousand peoples' ideas mosaic'ed together in celebration. We made this, and it will never be just yours again. You won't ever truly get it back, no matter how many lawyers you send, not completely. We keep what we steal.

Things shifted over time, of course. That's good. That's to be celebrated. Nobody should have to steal to survive. It should not be a crime, should not feel like a crime, to find yourself and your space in the world.

There were always content creators who could slip a little wink in when they laid out their wares, oh what's this over here, silly me leaving this unattended where anybody could grab it, of course there might be more over by the side door if you come around the alleyway (but if anybody asks, you didn't get this from ME). We all watched Xena marry Gabrielle, in body language and between the lines. We sat around and traded theories and rumors about whether the people writing Due South knew what they were doing when they sent their buddy cops off into the frozen north alone together at the end of the show, if they'd done it on purpose, if they knew. But over the years, slowly, thankfully, the winks became less sly.

A teenage boy put his hand on another teenage boy's hand and said, you move me, and they kissed on network TV, in a prime-time show, on FOX, and the world didn't burn down. Here and there, where they wanted to, where they could without getting caught by their bosses and managers, content creators stopped subtly nudging people around the back door and started saying, "Here. This is on offer here too, on purpose. You get to have this, too."

And of course, of course that came with a whole host of problems too. Slide around to the back door but you didn't get this from me turned into it's an item on our special menu, totally legit, you've just got to ask because the boss throws a fit if we put it out front. Shopkeepers and content creators started advertising on the sly, come buy your fix here!, hiding the fine print that says you still have to take what you've purchased home and rebuild it with your semi-legal IKEA hacks. Maybe they'll consider listing that Destiel or Sterek as a full-service menu item next year. Is that Crowley/Aziraphale the real thing or is it lite?

And those problems are real and the conversations are worth having, and it's absolutely fair to be frustrated that you can't find the ship you want on sale in anything like your color and size in a vast media landscape packed full of discount hetships and fast-fashion m/f. It's fair to be angry. It's fair to be frustrated. Queerbait is a word that exists for a reason.

There's a part of me that hurts, though, every time the topic comes up. It's a confusing, bad-mannered part of me, but it's still very real. And it's not because I'm fawning for crumbs, trying to be the Good, Non-Threatening Gay. It's not that I'm scared and traumatized by the thought of what might happen if we dare raise our voices and ask for attention. (Well. Not mostly. I'll always remember being quiet and scared and fifteen, but it's been a long two decades since then. I know how to ask for a hell of a lot more now.)

It's because I remember that cozy, plush-wallpapered den of joyful thieves. I remember you keep what you steal.

Every single time--every time--when a story I love sets a couple of characters out on a low, unguarded table, perfectly placed to be pilfered on the sly and taken home and smushed together like a couple of dolls, my very first thought is always, always joy. Always, that instinct says, yay! Says, this is ours now. As soon as I go home and crawl into that pillow-fort den, my instincts say, I will surely find people already at work combing through spoils and finding new ways to combine them, new ways to make them our own. I know there's fic for that. I've already seen fic for that, and I wasn't really interested last time, but the new store display's got my brain churning, and I can't wait to see what the crew back at the hideout does with this.

Every time, that's where my brain goes. And oh, when I realize the display's put out on purpose, that somebody snuck in a legitimate special menu item, when the proprietor gives me the nod and wink and says, you don't have to come around the side, I know it's not much but here--there is so much joy and relief and hope in me from that! Oh, what we can make with these beautiful building blocks. Oh what a story we can craft from the pieces. Oh, the things we can cobble together. Look at that, this one's a little skimpy on parts but we can supplement it, this one's got a whole outline we can fill in however we want. This one technically comes semi-preassembled, and that's boring as shit and a pain to take back apart, but that's fine, we'll manage. We're artists and thieves. I bet someone's pulling out the AU saw to cut it to pieces already.

And then I get back to our den, which has moved addresses a dozen times over the years and mostly hangs out on Tumblr now (and the roof leaks and the landlord's sketchy as fuck but at least they don't charge rent, and we've made worse places our own). And I show up, ready for joy--ready for a dozen other people who saw that low-hanging fruit on that unguarded table, who got the nod and wink about the special menu item, who're ready to get so excited about this newest haul. Did you see what we picked up? The theft was so easy, practically begging to be stolen. The last owner was an idiot with no idea what to do with it. The last owner knew exactly what it could become, bless their heart, under a craftsman with more time on their hands, so they looked away on purpose at just the right time to let me take it home. I show up every time ready for our space, the place that fed me on joy and self-confidence when I was fifteen and starving. The place that taught me, yes, we are thieves, because it is RIGHT to take what we need, and the beautiful things we create are their own justification. We are thieves, and that's wonderful, because nothing is handed to us and that means we get to build our own palaces. We get to keep everything we steal.

I go home, and even knowing the world is different, my instincts and heart are waiting for that. And I walk in the door, and I look at my dash, and I glance over at twitter, and--

And people are angry, again. Angry at the slim pickings from the hidden special menu. So, so tired and angry, at once again having to steal.

And they're right to be! Sometimes (often, maybe) I think they're angry at the wrong people--more angry with the shopkeeper who offers the bite-sized sampler platter of side characters or sneaks their queer content in on the special menu than the ones who don't include it at all. But it's not wrong to be mad that Disney's once again advertising their First Gay Character only to find out it's a tiny sprinkle of a one-line extra on an otherwise straight sundae. It's not wrong to be furious at the world because you've spent your whole life needing to be a thief to survive. It's far from wrong. I'm angry about it too.

But this was my den of thieves, my chop shop, my makerspace. Growing up in fandom, I learned to pick the locks on stories and crack the safes of subtext at the very same time I learned to create. They were the same thing, the same art. We are thieves, my heart says, we are thieves, and that's what makes us better than the people we steal from. We deconstruct every time we create. We build better things out of the pieces.

And people are angry that the pre-fab materials are too hard to find, the pickings too slim, the items on sale too limited? Yes, of course they are, of course they should be--but my heart. Oh, my heart. Every single time, just a little bit, it breaks.

Of course the stories are terrible (they have always been terrible). Of course they are, but we are thieves. We steal the best parts and cobble them back together and what we make is better than it was before. The craftsman's eye that cases a story for weak points, for blank spaces, for anywhere we can fit a crowbar and pry apart this casing--that's skill and art and joy. Of course we shouldn't have to, of course we shouldn't have to, but I still love it. I still want it, crave it. I still thrill every time I see it, a story with hairline cracks that we can work open with clever hands to let the queer in.

That used to be cause for celebration, around here. I ask him to go back to the ruins of Aeor with me, two men together alone on an expedition in the frozen north, it feels like a gift. And I understand why some people take it as an insult. I understand not good enough. I understand how something can feel like a few drops of water to someone dying of thirst, like a slap in the face. If it was so easy to sneak it hidden onto the special menu, to place it on the unguarded side table for someone else to run off to, why not let it sit out front and center in the first place? I know it's frustrating. It should be. We should fight. We should always fight. I know why.

But my heart, oh, my heart. My heart only knows what it's been taught. My heart sees, this thing right here, the proprietor left it there for you with a nod and a wink because they Get It. It's not put together yet, but it's better that way anyway. It's so full of pieces to pull apart and reassemble. I bet they've got a whole mosaic wall going up at home already. We can bring it home and make it OURS, more than it was ever theirs, forget half of what it came from and grow a new garden in what remains.

And I go home to find anger, and my heart breaks instead.

#I don't actually know how to tag this #representation #maybe?#C needs help feeding the dinosaurs #because this is very much about being a fandom old #probably also #driveby meta attack #because that's where I keep my impromptu rambles #CR spoilers #technically I guess?#there's one line that references the finale #fandom history

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cjsinkythoughts · 4 years ago

Text

The Conversation

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 7661 (Don’t come at me - you guys asked for it)

Warnings: !FATWS Spoilers!, Cursing, Fluff, Feelings, I Dunno What Else, This One’s Pretty Chill, Except The Ending, But You’ll See When You Get There

A/N: Here it is! I was hesitant about posting it because that means we’re getting closer to the end and I’m such a nostalgic bitch! I’m definitely gonna cry next week when the last episode comes out! Anyways, I’ve got a few things to talk about:

I think this is one of the most important chapters I’ve written and I’m excited to see your reactions to it. It is longer, but you guys asked for that, so you got it! Also, I’m loving the Asks, Comments, and Reblogs. I try to respond to all of them. I have work in a little bit, so I won’t be able to until after, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Ask me anything; about my series, the show, any of the movies, personal stuff, I really don’t care. If you’re not comfortable, that’s totally fine! Every like means so much to me!

I know it’s not the end yet - we’ve got one more episode and a list of One Shots to get through - but there’s a definite feeling of this series coming to an end, and I just want to thank you all for the support and love you’ve been giving it! I’ve really enjoyed writing these characters and this story! It’s very, very special to me and I’m glad I’ve been able to share it with you lovely people!

On that note, be kind to yourselves and others! Thank you again for reading! Excuse any mistakes - this isn’t beta’d! Enjoy and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT! (Sorry for the gifs I just love them so much and he’s so pretty and this part is technically two parts so...you get four!)

“Louisiana.” Bucky hummed, looking around the airport.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not gonna find anything interesting about Louisiana in here, doofus. Let’s call an Uber.”

“An Ooper? What the hell is an Ooper?”

You giggled, shaking your head and grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the luggage carousel. “Uber. It’s like…a taxi service. But there’s an app on your phone to get a driver instead of waiting for one on the street.”

“Oh.” He blinked, tilting his head. “That’s…helpful.”

You laughed again, stopping in front of Carousel 3, where your flight from New York was assigned. You went back to New York to grab a bag with clean clothes and other necessities, along with taking a real shower for once. It was nice to be back in the States, as much as you loved traveling. It’d been a crazy few weeks and you were ready to just relax.

“Do you think there were any problems with Sammy’s present?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. Especially considering they know who we are.”

You snickered at his slight grumble. They had had…problems at the other two airports - first the one in Sokovia then JFK in New York - considering Bucky’s entire arm was metal. It’d taken a full hour before they actually let you go, and by that time they had to give you a new plane because yours had left.

“Seriously. Who else has a fucking metal arm and has 1917 listed as their birth year on their Driver’s License?” You giggled again. That was also true. They thought he was messing with them. It wasn’t until you stepped in a few minutes after they asked Bucky to step to the side, seeing Bucky get frustrated, that they realized Bucky wasn’t pulling their legs.

“Well, we’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded in agreement, watching for your bags, his hand finding yours when he realized how many people there were. “Do you know where he lives? I didn’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. He invited me over once. I declined, but I saved the address.”

“He…invited you over?” Bucky frowned.

You gave him a look. “I’m sure he invited you, too. You just never checked his texts.”

He licked his lips, tilting his head. “Yeah, no, I know, but I mean…why didn’t you go? Weren’t you two just talking about how you wanted to meet his nephews the other day?”

“Yeah, but I had gotten a tip on Wanda at the time and I didn’t want to miss the chance that she was there. He told me it was fine. I still felt really bad. I could tell he was a bit disappointed. I think it was one of the boys’ birthdays. Or something. I don’t remember. Is that bad? Yeah, probably. I really should remember. Maybe I should keep track of birthdays on my calendar or something.”

“Doll.” You looked up to find him giving you a magnificent smile, teeth and all. “You’re rambling.”

“Oh. Am I? Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head quickly, squeezing your hand. “Don’t apologize. It’s cute. I’m just not used to you talking so much. You kinda did on the phone sometimes.”

You shrugged, pushing down the heat crawling up your neck at his words. “I rambled a lot to Steve.”

“Oh.”

His face fell, making you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, nudging him slightly to grin at him. “It’s nice to have someone to ramble to again, though.” There was that smile again. You were stopped from saying anything more when you noticed some kids pointing and chattering excitedly at a gleaming silver box coming around the corner on the conveyor belt. “There it is.”

He looked over his shoulder, dropping your hand and stepping over to grab it, lifting it effortlessly. You didn’t know what was in it or how heavy it was, but you were sure it felt like a feather to him.

“Alright. Got our bag, sweetheart?” You lifted up the duffle in answer and he jerked his head towards the doors. “Let’s get outta here, then. Call that Booper or whatever.”

“U-B-E-R! Ub-er!” You threw your hands up, following him as he started walking towards the exit. “What’s so hard about it?!”

He just gave you a little smirk over his shoulder.

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

Bucky kept asking the Uber driver questions about his job. The guy was super nice and patient the whole time, a thick southern accent lacing his answers. Southern hospitality was no joke and apparently had no limit as Bucky asked about his experiences, listening intently and telling him his own stories of taxi drivers in NYC.

When you got to Sam’s sister’s house, Bucky, being Bucky, tipped the driver half of what you paid for the ride, thanking him for his time and energy, before getting out.

“You’re so adorable, you know that?” You teased him as you stepped up the porch stairs and knocked on the door.

He rolled his eyes, a tint of pink dusting across his cheeks. “He was nice.”

You hummed at his defense, the smile never leaving your features. After a moment, Bucky raised his fist to knock again. “Jesus Christ! Don’t fucking knock their door down!” You grabbed his wrist and lowered it.

“Sorry. I forget sometimes.” Bucky informed you absentmindedly, tilting his head to peek in the window. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”

“They’re probably at the docks, then.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “The docks?”

You nodded, gesturing for him to follow you. “Yeah. They have a boat, remember? He talked about it last week.”

“Oh right. The one he’s trying to convince his sister not to sell.”

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “I’m pretty sure it’s that way. I don’t know how far, but we can call the Uber back-”

Bucky scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Nah. I don’t wanna bother him again. We can walk.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “It’s literally his job to drive people around.”

“Well, yeah, but what if he’s got other people to drive?”

You lifted his metal knuckles to your lips. “Trust me, Buck, I’m sure he’d rather drive you than anyone else.”

“Thank you?”

Swinging your now linked hands, you gave a firm nod, letting him know it was, in fact, a compliment. “You are so very welcome.”

The walk was a lot longer than you thought it was, and you ended up on Bucky’s back after he kept complaining about how you “shouldn’t be walking this long” and you were “injured” and you “needed rest’”. You’re not sure how a shoulder wound affected your ability to walk, but you relented and let him carry you the rest of the way to stop his whining.

“You forget, you did pull your thigh.”

“That was, like, three weeks ago! Yeesh!”

You finally got to the docks, which were bustling with people. Bucky set you down and raised an eyebrow which you shrugged in reply to, before heading over to where you spotted Sam with a few other older men.

“How do we get it off the truck?” You heard Sam ask, pointing to a large boat engine part in the bed of a beaten up truck. Scoffing as Bucky lifted it up without breaking a sweat, you leaned against the truck. Bucky grunted and set it down, looking at Sam.

“You’re welcome.” What a punk. “Just dropping this off.” Bucky lifted the case and set it where the engine was previously, Sam coming to stand on the opposite side of the truck as you. “You can sign for it and I’ll go.” You snorted, shaking your head, making Bucky shove your shoulder - the uninjured one - playfully. “I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”

Sam looked at you curiously. You shrugged and shook your head. “Don’t look at me, Sammy. He wouldn’t tell me what it is. He’s all hushy hushy about it until you say so.”

Before Sam could reply, there was a squeak and hissing over at the boat where steam was coming from a few pipes.

“Sam!” You knew that was Sarah from pictures Sam showed you. You stayed up by the truck, pulling yourself onto the bed while Sam tried fixing the pipe, Bucky butting in to show him how to do it properly.

“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?”

You saw Bucky lift up said metallic limb. “Well…I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m-I’m right handed.” Letting out a laugh, Bucky turned around and scowled teasingly at you. “And what’re you laughing at?!”

“Nothing!”

“Well then get your ass over here!”

You rolled your eyes, hopping down from the truck as Bucky asked if Sam wanted help with the boat. You leaned against a wooden post, grinning when Sam looked at you.

“I don’t have any plans.”

Sam gave a small smile, jerking his head back. “Yeah.”

You jumped down onto the boat to follow him, looking over your shoulder and stopping with an amused eyebrow raised as Bucky introduced himself to Sarah. “I’m Bucky.”

“Ah…Sarah.”

“Sarah.” Bucky repeated her name, before walking towards you, a grin still on his lips.

“Careful, Barnes. That playboy Steve warned me about is coming out.” You nudged him with a smirk, ignoring the feeling of your stomach dropping.

He rolled his eyes, kissing your head as he passed you and Sam to go where Sam was gesturing. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re still my doll.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, falling into step besides you and lowering his voice. “Conversation?”

“Hasn’t happened.” You informed him through clenched teeth as he groaned.

Sam gave you a list of chores that needed to be done to clean up the boat, giving you a quick tour and letting you know where all the tools needed where. You set to work immediately.

Sanding down, replacing old parts, cleaning, polishing and painting over the things that didn’t need replacing. They didn’t let you do any heavy lifting because of your stupid shoulder, but you were still able to help.

Sam had turned on some music for you to listen to, so you danced around the boat while cleaning. Turning your head when you felt a pair of eyes on you, you smiled when Bucky snapped his head back down to the wood he was sanding down.

“Gonna dance, Barnes?”

He looked back over, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m good watching you.”

Rolling your eyes, you got back to work, continuing to bop to the music, fully aware that he was watching you now.

A little while later, you were repainting the edges of the boat orange, when you looked over and noticed Bucky playing around with a paint scraper…sitting right on the edge that you had just finished repainting a few minutes ago.

“Buck!”

He looked over, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your mischievous grin. Shaking your head, you waved dismissively. “Never mind!”

He gave you a confused sort of pout, before shrugging and continuing to fidget with the tool. It wasn’t until later when he got up to help Sam tear the metal plating off the edge that it came to light with Sam chuckling and raising an eyebrow.

“Sit in something there, Barnes?”

“What?”

Bucky craned his neck back, eyes widening when he saw the orange paint on his ass, contrasting with his jeans. You let out a cackle and he whipped towards you, pointing at you accusingly, although the small uptick of his lips let you know he wasn’t really mad.

“Y/N!”

“No, no, no!” You laughed, sprinting across the deck, shrieking when he grabbed your waist and spun you around. You gasped when he grabbed a paint brush and painted an orange stripe right down the front of your shirt. “James!”

“Justice, sweetheart.” He breathed in your ear with a chuckle.

You shook your head, wiggling out of his hold. “This is a nice shirt!”

“You should’ve thought about that before.” He smirked, crossing his arms. Your eyes caught sight of Sam behind him, who raised an eyebrow and the bucket of paint he was holding. You nodded with a little giggle, making Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What’s so funny over there, do - holy shit!

You guffawed as orange paint dripped down his head, Sam standing innocently behind him with the now empty bucket behind his back. “Samuel!”

“Oops?”

“I’m gonna kill you!”

“Try me old man!”

“Fuck!

“Doll!”

“Oh my God!”

Paint, orange and white since those were the only cans they had out, flew across the deck, paint brushes being used like fencing swords.

You found out too late that wet paint was a little bit slippery and you slid on a huge puddle, sending you, not onto the ground below, but over the side of the edge into the water.

“Doll!”

“Cher, you good?!”

The three of you looked at each other, stunned for a moment, before bursting into fits of laughter and you nodded. “I’m good!”

The boys helped you get back up onto the dock, Sarah appearing with towels she conjured up out of thin air. “Let’s get you into dry clothes. Do you have-?”

“We’ve got some. We got a bag.” You told her with a grin, facing the guys. “You two should clean up some, too. Sammy, you’ve got a little something right there.” You pointed to your cheek, his own having a giant white splotch from his temple to his jaw. “And Buck?” You sniggered, gesturing to the whole of him. “You’ve got a lotta something right there.”

“Ha. Ha.” He looked down. His top was practically tiger print, drenched in orange with white here and there, and his ass still orange as well. His hair, which had been plastered to his forehead, was starting to dry now, and it only made you laugh some more thinking about what a pain it’d be to get it out. For him, at least.

“God. Can’t even have a relaxing day on the boat with you two.” Sam jested once you finished up and joined him and Bucky, who had just finished dumping out some water buckets. Bucky had changed his shirt and it looked like they tried wiping their faces, but Sam still had small lines of white down his face. “How ‘bout a couple of drinks? Surely you can’t ruin that too.”

“Ruin?” You gasped in mock offence. “Sammy! I just made the day more…interesting.”

Sam chuckled, ruffling Bucky’s hair, which still had orange streaks in it. “Let’s go get some beers.”

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

You chatted for a bit, mainly you and Sam with you asking how Sarah and the boys were while Bucky with your legs in his lap, just listening to you two and sipping at his bottle. You had his hand in your own lap, wiping it down with a rag due to the paint that got on it.

“You’re lucky this is vibranium, you know.” You commented off handedly. “If it was your other one, it’d definitely get stained.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Bucky shot back with a teasing grin.

“Sammy’s.”

Sam spluttered. “Wh-what?! You started it!” You laughed, shaking your head.

Falling into a comfortable silence with just the water and birds chirping as your soundtrack, you downed the rest of your drink, which Bucky took as finished. “Well,” you moved your legs to let him stand up. He leaned forwards to clink his bottle against Sam’s and you stood up and stretched. “Gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Get a hotel room for the night.” Sam gave you a look to which you rolled your eyes at as Bucky set down his bottle and grabbed his jacket. “Crash, you know?”

“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

“Well I don’t wanna make it weird for your family.”

“Just stay here.” You laughed as Sam babbled on about how nice the people were here, grabbing the jacket Bucky handed to you. It was getting a bit chilly from the breeze on the water and the sun going down. Plus, that water was cold.

“But don’t flirt with my sister.”

You cackled at Bucky’s face, that turned serious, his head shaking. “No.”

“‘Cause if you do I’ll have Carlos cut you up and feed you to the fish.”

“Can’t hold back the dog, Wilson. It’s been stuck in a kennel too long.”

Bucky turned to you, grabbing your jaw and squishing your cheeks together. “You know what? You need to shush. You’ve been snippy all day.”

You just smiled as innocently as you could with your lips being held by his metal fingers. “You’re too fun to mess with.”

He pecked your nose. “As long as I’m the only one you’re messing with. I’ll be right back.” He let you go and spun around, maneuvering around the boat in a way only a trained assassin could do.

“Oh my God, please! Please just put me out of my fucking misery! You’re killing me, cher.”

“What?” You gaped at him.

“Don’t act innocent!” Sam huffed, giving you a pointed look. “If I have to watch you two make googly eyes at you one more fucking day with neither of you doing anything about it-”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on, Sammy-”

“Don’t ‘come on, Sammy’ me! And don’t come at me with that ‘he doesn’t like me back’ bullshit. If you think for a second that boy wouldn’t follow you to the depths of the fucking ocean, you’re blind as a bat, woman.”

You shrugged, pushing up the sleeves of Bucky’s too big jacket. “It just…hasn’t come up.”

He deadpanned, shaking his head and standing up. “That’s it. I’m done. You two are driving me insane. I’m gonna lock you in a room until you have the conversation that needs to be had the next time either of you does something stupid.”

“Yikes. That’s gonna be quick.” At his look, your smile dropped and you nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll…I’ll bring it up later.”

“Tomorrow or nothing.”

“Sam-”

Sam tilted his head, brow creasing. “Is it still Steve? Is that what this is still about? Because he’s gone, and he’s been gone and you need to get over it-”

“No. It’s not…” You sighed. “It clicked the other day. When we were hanging out. Steve left and, yeah, I might always love him, but Bucky…God…I love Bucky, Sam.”

The man grinned proudly. “I’m glad to finally hear you admit it. So what’s the problem?”

“It’s still complicated, right? I mean…he’s his best friend and I’ve never dealt with stuff like this before and-”

Sam’s smile dropped and he groaned again. “Imma head out. I can’t take this. Dumbass and dumberass. I swear to God.” You sniggered a bit as he grumbled, walking towards the ramp to climb off the boat, just as Bucky reappeared.

“Hey-”

“Nope! Not right now, Barnes! I can’t handle it! I can’t!”

Bucky gave you a weird look. “What’d you do?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

“Well, c’mon, doll. Sarah said she’s gonna make gumbo for us, whatever that is.” He held out his hand as you walked over.

“You’re such a city boy.” You teased lightly, taking his hand and letting him help you pull you onto the dock. You shoved the sleeves of his jackets up again since they slipped from the first time. “Let’s go get some dinner. I’m starving.”

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

“We have the couch and a mattress we can pull out, I just have to make Sam get it from the attic-”

“That’s alright. The couch is fine.” Bucky waved dismissively while you nodded in agreement.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at you two. “For both of you?”

You blinked, exchanging a look with Bucky, before shrugging and turning back to her. “Yeah.”

“Don’t fight it, Sarah.” Sam peeked out from the hall. “They’ve got a weird relationship.” You stuck your tongue out at the man while Bucky rolled his eyes, dropping your duffle bag by the couch. “How mature, Y/N.” Sam mimicked your action.

“Uhm…okay. Let me set up the couch for you then.”

Once everything was set up, you and Bucky thanking her for dinner - delicious and you’d never seen Bucky smile so much, the boys having kept him highly entertained throughout the meal - and for letting you crash, Sam and Sarah headed to their rooms, the boys already having been tucked in for the night.

“Are you gonna sleep on the floor?” You asked quietly, sitting down on the couch and doing the things for your night routine you didn’t already do in the bathroom.

“I think I’ll be okay.” He sat besides you. “I’ve been doing fine the past week or so.”

You smiled at him. “That’s good. Alright.” You stood up and stretched. “Let me just make sure everything’s in the bag and ready-”

You yelped when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest, shifting down to lay against the couch’s arm. “Do it in the morning.” He yawned, looking up at you tiredly. “I wanna go to sleep.”

“Then go to sleep, Buck. I’ll be right back.” He shook his head, his hold tightening as he sunk deeper into the couch.

“No. I fall asleep better with you.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned, settling down with your legs between his, your chin resting on his sternum so you could still look at him. He beamed, but you could see the exhaustion settling in, and he grabbed the blanket Sarah left over the back of the couch and draped it across your back, over both of your legs, before his arms crossed snugly under the covers at the small of your back.

“Dinner was nice tonight. I haven’t had a meal cooked like that in ages.” You hummed.

He nodded in agreement. “I think that’s the first time I’ve sat around a table with a family since the 40′s.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah...kinda makes me wish I had my own.”

“Your own what?”

“Family.”

You bit your lip, shyly avoiding his gaze. “You’re my family, Buck.”

A light kiss was pressed to your forehead, his fingers bringing your gaze back to his. “There’s no one else I’d rather have.” The room lapsed into silence again, the clock ticking on the wall, the low sound of crickets outside.

“You have really pretty eyes.” You mumbled, tilting your head slightly as you studied them. They always held so much emotion in them, especially in contrast to when you first met him as Soldat. They matched the water you fell in, and you wouldn’t mind falling over and over into them.

“Yeah, well, you’re just really pretty inside and out, so I think you’ve got me beat, doll.” He whispered back.

“You know who else is pretty? Sarah.”

He nodded with a hum. “That’s true. But I meant what I said. You’ll always be my doll.”

“So you’re not gonna ask her out?”

He gave you a weird look as you traced his sharp jawline absentmindedly. “Nah, sweetheart. It’s just…some harmless flirting. Except on Sam’s part.”

You gave a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah…he’s gonna strangle you. It is nice to see you like that, though. Flirty. Relaxed. Happy.”

“You make me happy, sweetheart.” He hummed, nosing your temple. “The road trip helped. I’m learning everything from you. Maybe not the flirting, but the carefree part.”

You blinked at him, finger stopping for a moment as you thought. “Oh…”

You felt his fingers dance up your spine, making you shiver slightly. “What I would give to know what’s goin’ on inside that pretty lil’ head’a yours, doll.”

“I just think it’s funny you’re learning how to be carefree from me…when I just started learning how to do it myself.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded, your finger continuing its path down his jaw. “I think it started with the goats.”

“The goats?”

You nodded again, resting your cheek on his chest, watching your finger move up from his chin. Once you got to the end of his jaw, you lightly scratched his scruff. “In Wakanda. Our goats.” You weren’t looking at him, so you didn’t see the way he physically melted at your words, his eyes going soft, his lips turning up slightly.

“Our goats, huh?”

But your tired brain wasn’t really processing what he said, instead focusing on the features your finger was now tracing - over his lips, up his nose. “You’re pretty too, Buck. Did you know that? Inside and out.”

He craned his neck to kiss your forehead. “Go to sleep, cuddle bug.”

Nodding, you nuzzled into his chest, finger feeling over the bumps and indents on the dog tags resting near your head. You tried going to sleep, but you kept shifting, your mind not shutting off.

“Hey, sleepyhead, I’m trying to, you know, sleep.”

“Sorry.” You apologized meekly. “I just…I dunno. I can’t.”

“Are you comfortable?” He peeked open and eye to look at you questioningly. You nodded. “Is it too hot? We can take the blanket off. I know I’m a walking furnace-”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t know why. I just can’t sleep.”

He licked his lips thoughtfully, before cradling your head and guiding you back down to his chest. “Lay down, sweetheart. Relax.” He stroked your hair, moving his head down to rub circles in your back muscles, pressing down harder when he felt knots.

You hummed, your eyes closing. “That feels good.”

“Shshsh. Just go to sleep.” His lips pressed against your head once more, lingering a bit longer than they usually do, as you felt yourself drift off. You cuddled his side, throwing a leg over his waist, before nodding off, only barely hearing his words. “Attagirl. There we are.”

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

“Doll?” You felt a shift underneath you and groaned, your eyes barely cracking open. “Hey, sleepyhead…it’s okay. I’m just gonna slip out from under ya, alright? Gonna go help Sammy with somethin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting him move you against the cushions as he sat up on the edge of the couch. “Sammy?”

“Yeah.” He bent over and kissed your cheek. You stretched out your limbs, about to rub your eyes, when he stopped you, kissing the inside of your wrists. “No. Not you, doll. Go back to sleep.”

“Bu’...’m gonna help.” You slurred out, looking at him with confused, squinty eyes.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Rest. You can help when you wake up again. Okay?” You mumbled out an “okay”, bringing the covers up to your chin and snuggling deeper into the cushions. “There ya go, cuddle bug. Good girl.” There was another kiss, one to your temple this time, before you slipped back into unconsciousness.

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

The next time you woke up was because of a clatter in the kitchen. You yawned and sat up, stretching, eyebrows furrowing when you realized Bucky wasn’t with you. It took you a moment to remember your conversation, which you half thought you dreamt.

“Boys!”

“Sorry!”

You chuckled at the shouts, rubbing your eyes. “I am so sorry!” Sarah apologized, looking over at you from the stove. Trying to make the boys breakfast before school. Do you want anything? Eggs? Cereal? Toast?”

“Uh, cereal’s fine.” You stretched out your back again, before throwing back the covers and standing up, a little shakily.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Sam went, would you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I think him and Bucky went to fix something on the boat. I don’t for sure, though.”

Sarah groaned. “He probably went to fix the stupid water pump which doens’t need fixing. Dumbass.”

You chuckled, padding over into the kitchen. “Yeah. I just work with him. I can’t imagine growing up with him.”

“Trust me; some days you want to throw him in a box and send him out to sea. Bowls are in that cupboard.”

You snickered, moving over to grab a bowl from the cupboard she pointed to. “That’s how I feel with Bucky. Sam is less often, but when those two get together…it’s a full zoo.”

She laughed at that, nodding as she got out the milk and a few boxes of cereal for you to choose from, handing you a spoon. “That I believe.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

You started pouring your cereal, watching in slight amusement as she got the boys ready for school. “Bus is here! Get out the door! Bye! Love you! Make sure you take those extra lunches to-!”

“Yeah, mom! We know! Love you too!”

You gave a slight smirk as she huffed, looking around the kitchen at the pans and dishes left out. “Kids, huh?”

She gave you a smile. “Yeah. They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. How about you? Any thoughts of kids?”

“Me?” Your eyes widened, nearly choking on your food. “Oh God no. Not right now, at least. I don’t even have a solid house right now. My life’s too off the walls for that.”

“And Bucky?”

You raised an eyebrow as she leaned on the counter. “Bucky? What about Bucky?”

“Does he want kids?”

“Uh…I dunno.” You shrugged, clearing your throat as you remembered your talk last night. “Kinda makes me wish I had my own.” You quickly pushed his words aside. “He hasn’t told me.”

“Wait, wait. You two…aren’t together then?”

You blinked, your eyes widening again. “Together? Me and Bucky? No…why? Did Sam say something?”

Her expression morphed into one of disbelief, crossing her arms. “Sam didn’t say anything. You guys did. Are you seriously expecting me to believe you aren’t together?”

“We’re not! I mean - he was flirting with you yesterday-”

“Right, okay. Honey, that’s flirting. And it’s harmless. The way he follows you like a puppy and you look at him like he hung the stars? That’s feelings. And that’s a lot more impactful than flirting.”

You frowned in contemplation. It was really that obvious? You were really that blind? This whole time? You knew Sam knew - but you just figured that’s because he’s been there since it started. And Sharon knew for the same reason. But Sarah? The woman you just met the day prior and had barely had a conversation with?

“It’s, uh…” You chewed on your cheek, swirling your cereal around. “It’s complicated.”

Sarah didn’t look impressed. “Do you like him?”

“I’m kinda in love with him-”

She shrugged, not letting you finish your bashful statement. “Then I don’t see what’s complicated about it.”

And that was that. She turned to clean up breakfast, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You thought it was more complicated than that. I mean…you were in love with your best friend. Who left you. With the guy you had feelings for who just so happened to be your best friend/crush’s best friend. And now you were completely in love with your best friend’s best friend, but your best friend still had a piece of your heart.

But…you loved Bucky. And he was here. And Steve was not. And when you put it that way…you guess it wasn’t so complicated after all.

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

You snickered as you walked up behind Sarah, the woman berating the men for not leaving the water pump along like she asked.

“Hi, Sarah.”

Sam shot Bucky a warning look, who grinned, but you were surprised to see Sarah ignore him, sending you a knowing glance instead, before turning back to Sam. “I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”

“Yep, Samuel.”

You chuckled, Bucky shooting you a wink. “Yeah, Samuel.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at you, turning to Sarah. “In our defense, you were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”

You nearly facepalmed at his “defensive” and you were trying so hard to hold back laughing as she told Sam off, sending them away.

“I don’t wanna hear a peep from you.” Sam pointed at you, but that only made your chortles come out, and you didn’t even bother hiding them. “She’s a very mean person.”

“It’s tough love.”

You giggled as they started arguing, slipping an arm around their waists, their arms instinctually coming up to your shoulders.

“Oh my God. A prowess?”

“Yes, Y/N. A prowess.”

“You know, maybe if you someone let me help-”

“Hey, woah! You were tired! I let you sleep! I was being nice!”

“Too late now. I’ll be lucky if Sarah lets me within a hundred feet of it!”

“She got you so good, Sammy!”

“I agree with Buck for once! You’re too snippy right now! And c’mon man! Stop flirting with my sister!”

“It’s my natural charm.”

“Charm? What charm?”

“Ouch, doll! That one hurt!”

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

“Okay.” You stepped out of the bathroom, walking over to the couch and setting the bag down on it. “I’ve got everything packed. We’ve got a little over an hour until we need to head out which gives you two time to go set something up for Sammy and maybe even a bit or training before we leave.”

Bucky frowned. “You’re not gonna come out?”

“I will in a bit. I just got a phone call I need to take.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Government call?”

You gave a mocking smile. “Can you guess what they want to talk about? It’s okay. I’ll survive. It’s only a phone call, so I can always hang up. Pretend I didn’t have good service. I do it all the time.”

“I’m sure you do.” Sam chuckled. “In that case, I’m gonna go grab some stuff and get the shield.” As he walked out, he made sure to mouth at you behind Bucky’s back ‘conversation’ making you swallow thickly. You were planning on talking to Bucky anyways, and with Sam’s insistence…

“Okay, so, I was thinking when we get back-”

“Can I talk to you?”

Bucky stopped digging through the bag, blinking at you in surprise at your sudden burst. “Uh…well, we already are, so yes.” He chuckled, straightening and crossing his arms.

“I wanna have the conversation.”

He was left stunned, once again, his mouth opening and closing and his weight shifting form one foot to the other. “Like…that conversation? R-right now? Are you sure?”

You winced at her nervousness. “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s kinda…I just…I need to talk about it. Now.”

“Okay, okay. No, that’s fine. Don’t apologize. I just wasn’t expecting it.” Bucky cleared his throat. “That’s all.”

“Okay…” You breathed with a small nod. You opened your mouth, but Bucky shook his head.

“I hafta say this first; I didn’t mean to hurt you by telling you about Steve. I-I dunno what I thought. That it’d give you closure or something. I dunno. But it hurt you and I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Buck-”

“I was jealous. And guilty. And mad. And upset. I still am. Kinda. I guess. I dunno.” Bucky shook his head, running his hand through his hair and all you could do was gape at him as he started confessing to you. “Remember when we danced? In Madripoor? Doll…I don’t wanna dance ever again if it’s not with you. I fucking love you, Y/N. And not in the way we’ve said it before. I’m in love with you. I have been for-for a while now. I just - you were Steve’s. Steve loved you and you loved Steve and that was that and I was just the broken childhood best friend. But Steve left and he told me to take care of you and I didn’t know what to do with that, because you still love Steve. I think. I dunno. And I didn’t want to break what we have because you’re all I have left of him. You and that stupid shield. You’re my family. My home. I really meant it when I told you that. And that’s why I couldn’t tell you. Because it means too much for me to break what we have because I fell in love with my best friend’s girl. You know?”

He looked at you with pleading eyes, begging you to understand, but your brain was still trying to process what he was telling you.

“Oh God…” He groaned. “And now I just told you everything and you’re looking at me like that wasn’t what you wanted to hear and now I’m thinking this wasn’t the conversation you were thinking it was going to be-”

You were moving across the room before you could stop yourself, pulling him by the teal Henley you knew was comfortable having worn it to bed before when you visited him in New York, and slanting your lips over his.

His breathing hitched and he froze, and for a hot second you thought you made everything worse, but then he was kissing you back and his hands were on your hips and he was pulling you closer and it felt so fucking good you didn’t want to pull back for air.

“Shut up.” You muttered when you finally did pull back, your forehead against his, your eyes clenched shut. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.” You pulled back to look up at him, chests heaving against each other, your eyes prickling. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at opening up. I only ever was good at it with Steve but Bucky…I’ve been doing it with you. This whole time and I didn’t even realize it until the conversation in the car.”

He reached up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the relieved tears that were falling from the weight you were finally getting off your chest.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. How could I not be? After all that time in Wakanda? I was never Steve’s girl, Bucky. I wanted to be. Dammit, did I wanna be, but I wasn’t. Not really. And he’s gone. But you’re not. And I don’t know why it took me so long to see that. That you’re the one in front of me. You’re the one who held me when I needed it once he left. You’re the one that would listen to my rambles that I’m just realizing was most of our phone calls. You’re not just the broken childhood friend. Don’t ever think that. I don’t pick up the phone at five in the morning after searching for a friend until two for just anyone. Even Steve’s best friend. And I’m such an idiot because I’ve been pushing away my feelings all these years for Steve and then I let them out with you at the wrong time, because I love Steve, Bucky, but I’m not in love with him. Not since I fell in love with you. And I know it doesn’t make sense, but Steve was the first one I cared about and that’s just how I feel and I can try to explain, but-”

His lips crashed onto yours again and you could taste the salty tears that were pouring down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. He was holding you and he was kissing you and it was even more perfect than you thought it’d be.

“You’re adorable when you ramble, but Jesus Christ, shuddup, doll.” He breathed. “Just tell me you love me. Tell me you love me just a fraction of how much I love you.”

You looked up into those ocean eyes, your own shining with earnest affection. “James Buchanan Barnes. I love you.”

“That’s all I need to know.” He murmured against your lips, holding your head against his, still wiping away your tears. It felt like with each one that fell, you felt lighter and lighter. Like they were taking away every fear and anxiety you held within you for the past six months.

“Alright! I was thinking we could just set up in these trees out here - holy shit! Is it done? Did you do it? Did I miss it? Has the conversation been had?”

Bucky chuckled as you giggled. “He has the worst timing.” The last two words were loud enough so Sam could hear, although the man heard the whole sentence.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes!” Sam cheered. “Halle-fucking-lujah! Finally! I was that close to locking you two in the attic.”

You shook your head at Sam’s personal celebration, drowning the rest of his words out as you looked at Bucky, who swept his thumb over your cheek catching one last tear, before pecking your lips.

“I finally get to kiss where I really want to.” He spoke softly, kissing your lips again. “Are you mine, doll?”

“I thought you said I’d always be your doll.” You answered cheekily. He grinned, kissing you again, pulling you against him by the hips.

“Okay, okay! That’s enough! We get it! You’re in love, finally, but I don’t wanna see it anymore! Now will you come help me with this shit?”

Bucky left one more lingering kiss on your lips, before you pushed him away reluctantly. “I’ll be right out.”

He nodded, moving over to help Sam carry the things he’d gathered.

You watched them put it all up from the window, gnawing on your cheek as you spun your phone in your hands. Coming to a decision, you tossed your phone in the duffle bag and walked out with it just as the boys finished.

“That was a quick phone call.” Sam raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. “Didn’t call them. If they really need me, they’ll find me.”

Bucky grinned as you set the bag down under a tree, pecking your lips when you got close enough for him to grab by the waist to hold you against him. You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully away and giggling as Sam let out a groan.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, Sammy.”

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Bucky knew he needed the tough love talk Sam was giving him. He needed to hear it. Because, deep down, he had known it all along, he just refused to believe it. He tried doing it. Making amends. He knew he wasn’t though. And of course he knew immediately who that one person would be.

“And hey.” Bucky looked at him. “Let me tell you what. Telling my girl all that you told her? That’s a good start. I’m proud of you. Both of you. You’re already happier. I can see it in your eyes.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he thought of the gorgeous woman he nearly let slip through his fingers. He looked over to the house, where she was inside somewhere getting ready after suddenly deciding she needed to shower before they left. “I was stupid.”

“Yeah you were. You both were. I’m so relieved it’s over.” Sam nudged him. “Treat her right, Buck. She deserves it.”

“I know…I just hope I can.”

Sam shook his head. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that. You were just starting to use that cyborg brain of yours! She chose you. And before you say anything,” Sam cut Bucky off from speaking as he opened his mouth to object. “She chose you before Steve left. It just took her dumbass this long to realize it.”

Bucky nodded, a small smile on his face. “Yeah…okay…” Before he could say anything, the goddess herself stepped out, jogging over, looking absolutely amazing in her jeans and his t-shirt. “Good talk.”

Sam laughed at his quick ending of the conversation as she came up besides them. “Talking about me?” She asked cheekily, eyes shining. Bucky couldn’t help but take her under his arm, pecking her lips. Now that he could, he didn’t think he could stop. He was addicted to say the least.

Throwing Bucky a wink, Sam shrugged. “Just all the things that get on our nerves.”

“Ha ha.” She rolled her eyes. “We better get going.”

Bucky and Sam clapped hands. “You know Karli won’t quit.”

Bucky smiled. “Ah. You call us when you have a lead and we’ll be there.”

Y/N stepped forwards to give Sam a hug. “Anytime, Sammy.”

“Eh. Anytime between noon and midnight.” Bucky corrected. “Or noon and ten. Noon and five…you better just call at noon to be safe.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure.”

“Not necessarily as a team.” Bucky continued, grabbing the bag, getting Y/N back in her spot at his side under his arm.

“Nope!”

“We’re not that good.”

“Definitely not.”

“We’re professionals.”

“Definitely.”

“And, uh, we’re partners.”

Sam snapped, pointing at him. “Coworkers.”

“But we’re also a couple of guys with a couple mutual friends.”

“Ones now gone and you’re dating the other.”

“So we’re a couple of guys…with a badass to help out.”

“I can live with that.”

“Perfect.”

“Oh my God.” Y/N let out that laugh Bucky could never get enough of, shaking her head at the two of them. “You forgot dumbasses.”

Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh. That’s your couple name.”

“Dumbasses?”

“Oh yeah.” The three of them came to a stop, Bucky and his girl - God he loved confirming it now - facing Sam. “Thanks for the help, guys. Meant a lot.”

Bucky patted his shoulder. “Of course.”

Y/N shot him a wink. “Until we meet again, Sammy.”

“Until then, cher.”

Bucky couldn’t stop his grin as she wrapped her arms around his waist, the two of them starting to walk to the main road where she already ordered an Uber. He looked down at her, kissing her lips for the nth time in the past hour.

“I wish I didn’t wait so long,” he told her seriously. “But I’d wait a thousands more centuries if it meant I get to call you mine.”

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re such a sap! But…” she moved up to kiss him and his heart stuttered. He knew he had a goofy grin on when she pulled back, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when she laughed again. “I have to agree with you on that, Buckaroo.”

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