#like im totally invisible at this point except to old men

[freebooter4ever]

lupita making fan videos of her cat to glass animals 🥹🥹🥹 the strides this woman is making in sexy cat lady representation. gone are the days when getting a cat after a breakup over the age of 40 was seen as tragic and life ending

[musedblues]

Always Something There To Remind Me [Part: 4]

summary: Home is where the heart is. You’re working on finding yours. After a handful of misfortunes, your old friend Joe helps to unravel life’s greatest mystery while adding a bit of extra grief to the mix.

warnings: Some fun, a little angst, and a whole lot of mixed feeling!

w/c: 6k

a/n: We’ve reached the halfway mark of this story! I hope you enjoy this update. Let me know what you think, lovies!

​taglist: @im-an-adult-ish​ @mrsmazzello​ @lettinggosthehardestpart​ @the-moving-finger-writes​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​

Part 5

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The spring was blossoming to life and after your fair share of sulking, you went on the hunt for a job. Funeral expenses and travel had cleaned out your account, and you needed income. In the local mall, you scored part-time at a tiny flower shop. A lovely couple of old men owned the place and handled deliveries, insisting your only job was to sit behind the register and wait for customers to buy something.

There were plenty of shoppers, but even more spare time to listen to podcasts and text Tegan. You were in the middle of sending your friend photos of the floral arrangement one of your bosses let you mess around with over lunch break, when a familiar voice floated past your counter.

“Oh my God!”

Lacy Duval was standing in front of you with a strangely excitable grin and a perfect ponytail flowing from underneath a Yankees ballcap. Oh my God was right.

“Hello, Lacy.” You gave her a cagey smile. There was no reason not to be polite, but something about the girl really got under your skin.

“I saw you here on my way to Urban Outfitters and I couldn’t not say hello.” The girl was pretty. It almost blinded you to look right at her. But she’d taken to leaning against the counter to shove her smile in your face.

“Well, hello.” You offered once more. “Please, don’t let me get in the way of your shopping.” You nearly plead, glancing past her, willing another customer to show up.

“Oh, no I work at Urban. I totally don’t mind clocking in a few minutes late.” Lacy giggled like this was some kind of big, secret, inside joke. You only let out a very nervous chuckle, afraid if you opened your mouth again you would be a little too rude. Lacy leaned against your register for five solid minutes, gabbing on about the mall and the people she worked with and how she’d never see you here before.  All while looking over her shoulder and around yours, like she had somewhere better to be. That’s what stopped you from dropping your guard and actually listening to what Lacy had to drone on about.

She left with a reluctant sigh and you wondered how she justified talking to you for so long with absolutely nothing to say. You shook it off in a hurry, going back to your texts with Tegan and selling a few promposal bouquets near the end of your shift.

Except after then, something horrific happened. For the next two weeks, Lacy kept coming in to say hello. Every. Single. Day. She even learned your schedule and made a habit of stopping in to greet you before her shifts across the mall started. And for a while, you didn’t totally mind the tradition. She kept it up so long, with a pleasant smile. She must have really wanted to talk to you, right? But by her fifth visit, her all too obvious intentions were finally brought to light.

“So how’s Joe, then?” Lacy kept her smile wide and her eyes glued on yours.

“Oh, you know, some kind of superstar.” You half-joked, almost through your teeth. Joe was off with his castmates, winning awards and attending red carpet parties. You couldn’t have been happier for him. He deserved a bit of fun after the winter was so cruel. You just didn’t like that Lacy was asking.

“He’s always been popular but he’s properly famous now, isn’t he?” Lacy pointed out, giddy. “Every time I post a photo with him I swear I gain at least a hundred more followers!” She practically swooned.

It took every ounce of your strength not to throw your head back and groan out loud. Yeah, he was an actor. Yeah, he was good- and recognized for it. You’d had this conversation more times with more people than you ever really realized was possible.  And if ever he dared mention your old pal, Kris always referred to Joe as “that famous friend of yours.” Was Joe’s celebrity really all that mattered to anyone? What about his favorite Chinese food, or his theory about the end of Easy Rider? He was a motherfucking person.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get much worse, it got so much worse.

You had just closed up shop, paying no mind to the last-minute mall rats who still bustled around the other open storefronts. Before you could make your way too far past the flower shop, someone tapped you on the shoulder.

It was Joe, who proceeded to wrap you in a big hug the moment you registered his surprise presence.

He was gone for what felt like longer than ever before, but he looked way more happy to see you now, than the last time you reunited. You threw your arms around his shoulders and he lifted you off the ground for a moment, exchanging merry hello’s.

“Alright, alright! We have a guest.” Joe set you back on your feet, gesturing to a very tall and happy looking fellow you recognized from many photos.

“Gwilym.” You proudly smiled up to him, confirming you knew of him well enough to be happy to see him here now. 

“Y/n!” He pointed at you, as if this meeting were a long time coming.

Joe went on to explain how Gwilym had been staying with him the past couple of days after all the press tours and premiers were over. And how they drove all the way back here to Joe’s measly hometown because his mother insisted they both stop over for brunch, so she could get the chance to see Joe’s friend. Apparently, she adored Gwilym. You could see why, even just having met the guy, he oozed a certain gentle charm.

Joe knew to find you here at the mall, because you’d kept up your promise of sending the occasional text message update when something more than mundane happened in each of your lives. You listened to him and Gwilym yammer on about how exciting the past couple of months had been for them, taking a beat to notice how good Joe looked. There was a light in his eyes you hadn’t seen since you’d been back in the states.

And then you saw her. Lacy was leaving her shift down the way. You watched her realize just exactly who was talking to you, stop, and turn in a very big hurry in your direction.

“Joey!” She shrieked, rushing up to your best friend. Gwilym was practically shoved aside by the girl on her mission to invade Joe’s personal space. What was even more unsettling was how Joe seemed glad to see her. He pulled her into a friendly embrace that she squealed during. Even though you and Gwilym had just met, the two of you shared a befuddled expression trying to reason why you’d both been left on the sidelines all of a sudden.

Even when Joe pointed to Gwilym, introducing the strangers to each other, Lacey didn’t dare turn her gaze from Joe. She didn’t miss a beat as she went on saying;

“I’m so glad you’re here! So listen, my sisters are throwing this big party and I promised them I’d get you to come. I wanna show you off!” Lacy swayed in place, looking up to Joe through her fake lashes.

“Oh, wow uh sure, when is it?” Joe smiled, pulling his phone from his pocket as you crossed your arms, realizing you were invisible to her now. Lacy gave Joe the details and had the nerve to sweep her eyes over you as she skipped away. What the fuck? She’d spent all month popping in to “say hello” to little old you, but now that Joe was around you’d become irrelevant. She was only trying to get to Joe and you knew it all along, but you were still fuming at her disregard for you during the past couple minutes.

“That was weird.” Joe realized with a shrug, watching Lacy walk away. You knew if you responded you’d only blow a gasket, and luckily Joe was interested in moving on. Gwilym stood watching on in near comical horror as Joe snapped everyone back to business.

“Alright, listen this is very important.” Joe grabbed your shoulders, wearing another hopeful grin. “I want you to come back and stay with us, this weekend. But the thing is you need to say yes right now, cause we’ve got to leave right now.” Joe nodded. You realized he was serious or he wouldn’t have tracked you down at the mall, with the excitable, dashing Gwilym in tow.

///

Gwilym was put to work charming the socks off your mother as Joe raced you up the stairs to help pack your bags. He was desperate to make it to some very specific pizza place before it closed for the night. You just laughed as he threw your clothes into an old JanSport, before stealing it from his grasp to finish packing your thing; full of mostly new clothes you splurged on with your first big paycheck. As you packed them to wear, you felt strangely like life was finally taking a turn for the better.

When you scurried back down the stairs, Gwilym had managed to make a cup of tea and was busy trading some recipe with your mother who was sad to see him go. Joe rushed the pair of you out the door and off onto an adventure.

Gwilym insisted you take the passenger seat on the way to the city and begged you to expose the depths of your Spotify playlist, from the back. The car ride was spent laughing about the musical phases you’d all gone through, and rocking out to the classics everyone loved.

“Hey, this is fun.” It hit you as you gazed at the cars zooming past the speed limit on either side of the freeway, and you didn’t feel usually dreadful. You let the comment slip out without thinking about it, without thinking of Gwilym in the back who might have wondered why you’d be shocked to find a road trip suddenly appealing.

But Joe knew, and he smiled as if to disguise a frown. He seemed to get this same strange look on his face when you even slightly alluded to your recent past.

“John told me what happened, why didn’t you?” Joe asked, quietly, worriedly.

Oh, yeah. Your car slid off the road last month.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal about it.” You shrugged, almost too much like a little kid. But you caught a glimpse of Gwilym in the back, pretending not to notice the shift in conversation. So you reached to turn the music up, and Joe reached for your hand.

Then you all declared this weekend was to be dedicated to nothing but having fun.

///

You made it to the city in time to hurry into Joe’s favorite pizza place an hour before closing, where you and Gwilym played the basic twenty questions of getting to know each other. And there was no stopping the way you each roasted Joe into oblivion, making him laugh all the while.

Joe’s apartment looked different than it had in all the photos you’d seen. The walls were decorated in old family photos and there were plenty of knickknacks you recognized from the years gone by, and some you didn’t. Stepping foot into his home felt strangely invasive, and you felt funny for wishing you’d been here more times than just this once.

You thought it was only natural that Gwilym took the only guest bedroom. The guy was one hundred feet tall, and you had no business taking up Joes spare California King. But Gwilym insisted the couch was just fine by him, and it was a big sofa after all. All of his bags seemed to be resting in an armchair nearby, anyhow. You couldn’t justify arguing, and soon you were shutting yourself into the spare room with sleep on your mind.

That was until rain pelted against the sealed window next to you, and you swore you saw a draft blew the blinds back. You cursed your hasty packing. You’d only grabbed an oversized tshirt instead of a sweater. After a moment of bringing your bare knees to your chest to get warm, desperate times called for desperate measures.

The apartment was dark, and Gwilym was peacefully sleeping on the L shaped sofa, borrowed knitted throw blankets decorated across his form. The glow from the streetlamp outside the kitchen window provided enough light for you to tiptoe toward Joe’s room, where soft yellow light seeped through the bottom of the door. Was he still up, too?

You knocked softly, in case he was asleep and your silly request wasn’t meant to matter. But you heard a shuffled from close beyond the door, and soon it creaked open.

“What’s up?” Joe asked, seemingly a little surprised to see you, but it was hard to read his face in the dim doorway.

“I just forgot a sweatshirt. Could I borrow one?” You asked sheepishly, folding your arms out of shyness and a bit of a chill.

“Yeah of course.” Joe breathed in sharply, turning on his feet toward his closet. The door creaked open further and you noticed Joe rub his eyes, before reaching to grab an old college sweatshirt. What was up with him tonight?

“Hey…” You cautiously began, slipping into the room and clicking the door shut. “Are you alright?” You padded toward your friend as he barely turned toward the sound of your voice.

“Uh,” Joe seemed to decide as he gently shoved his sweatshirt toward your grasp. You instinctively held it to your chest but dropped it the moment Joe turned away and started drifting toward his bed. Before he could totally answer your question he started to cry. The second you registered his snivels you darted toward where Joe stood quickly falling to piece. Then he began to explain himself.

“We said our goodbyes and everything, I shouldn’t still be so sad.” Joe croaked, covering his face with his hands so you couldn’t see his broken expression. But you felt the weight of his sadness stomp your heart out.

“You just miss him, Joe. It’s okay to miss him.” You missed his dad too, but saying so seemed selfish. Joe was still catching his breath under his hands as you pulled him toward his bed where the covers were already turned down.

You laid him down and wasted no time curling up next to him, pulling his head toward your shoulder. Joe sheepishly latched onto you while he steadied his breathing, and neither of you spoke. You just smoothed down his hair while he grabbed onto you. Joe was stronger than before.

“You are cold.” Joe noticed, chucking a little into your hair. But you sort of forgot your reason for coming in his room or the goosebumps that decorated your bare legs. You were completely comfortable in his arms. His embrace made you warmer than any sweatshirt ever could. You felt attached to him, but simultaneously cautious of the affection, you didn’t deserve this kind of all-encompassing comfort. Why was Joe’s embrace so much more multiplexed than it had been some odd years ago?

Joe was quiet, but the silence was heavy with whatever was on his mind. You could tell he wanted to say something more, but he never did. You lay together in understanding silence, trying to unravel your tangled thoughts about it all. But the effort made you tired and you drifted off there with Joe.

You woke up later, completely unsure of the time, but noticing the sun had yet to rise. Joe was still lying against you, now in peaceful sleep. You almost felt bad for squirming out from under him. You would hate to disrupt him, and his body was warm against yours. But you knew you couldn’t stay. Tiptoeing toward his door, you scooped up the previously abandoned college sweatshirt, squeezed through the door and back down the hall to the guest room. It was still cold, maybe even colder now.

///

Later that morning you awoke to a clattering from the kitchen. You slid some short on under Joe’s sweatshirt and ran your fingers through your hair before padding out of the guest room to discover what was happening.

Joe and Gwil were dressed for the day, drifting around the kitchen, arguing over something like an old married couple.

“Good morning mom and dad.” You snickered, grabbing your bottle of water from the night before, and watching Joe and his friend point to the oven. Joe shot you a look but turned his gaze back to Gwilym to finish the argument.

“If the fork comes out clean, it’s ready!” Joe pointed to the oven.

“Yeah, but you stuck it in the side, not the middle! You gotta go for the middle!” Gwilym argued. You took a sip of water and watched on in amusement. Had they really woken up and headed straight into baking something?

Joe turned to you, making some kind of whine as if pleading for you to help him prove his point. But Gwilym was right.

“He’s right.” You pointed your bottle toward Gwil who proudly sauntered behind the island to join you there.

“Ha!” Gwilym boasted.

“Ha? That’s the best you’ve got?” Joe playfully jabbed.

“It’s Welsh for ‘fuck off I’m right.’” Gwilym falsely reported, trying to save his comeback. Hey, that was good. You might steal that one. Joe laughed but looked at you with that same funny little micro-expression like he couldn’t choose between horror or sadness. But you couldn’t help go on smiling.

“You’re from there, right? Wales?” You moved your eyes toward Gwilym, who leaned against the counter toward you.

“Well no. Me mum is. I’m a fraud.” Gwil rose a brow and made you chuckle.

“Well, that’s a shame. We could have had our own secret language.” You gently admitted. Gwil kept a curious eye on you as he moved to sit next to you.

“You speak Welsh?” He asked, reaching for his cup of coffee across the island.

“I lived there for a while.” You shrugged.

“What the hell! Joe’s talked for ages about you but never mentioned that.” Gwilym cast a befuddled glance to Joe across the room.  Joe talked about you back when you weren’t talking to each other? He was occupying himself with putting a couple of dishes away. You couldn’t read his face when he stepped closer toward the opposite side of the island. Joe responded by lifting his phone in the air and snapping a photo of you and Gwilym in the middle of the morning lit kitchen.

“What was that for?” Gwilym laughed.

“Something to remember you by when the oven catches on fire because we left this damn dessert in too long.” Joe fanned his hands around. You laughed out loud, utterly delighted to be amidst the chaos. You’d missed this side of Joe. His wit and spunk had sort of all but fizzled out through the winter. It was nice to see he hadn’t lost his touch.

The photo he took was accidentally wonderful. The bright kitchen looked like heaven around you and Gwilym, sleepily leaning on the counter.

“I’ve got to post this! Or do you want too?” Gwilym asked, pointing to the picture on your phone. You had an Instagram but scarcely used the platform outside of admiring other people’s posts. Something about how excited Gwilym became and how pretty the picture was made you excited to open the old dusty application. You sent the photo to yourself and posted it to your Instagram without hesitation. It looked like the start of something new. The bright white photo stood out among the rest of your grainy theme, mostly filled with photos of you and Tegan from the pub in Wales. You tagged Gwilym and Joe.

///

That day became a game of sneaking candid photos of each other. You snuck up on each other as you strolled through the city streets and snapped shots of one another buying ice creams and looking in storefronts. But the game got out of hand. Gwilym took one photo of Joe when he was least expecting it, as he was standing on his tiptoes to reach for something in a candy store you’d fallen into the trap of. Gwilym decided it was blackmail, and then the game was on. You got a photo of Gwilym taking a massive bite of lunch and Joe got one of you making some dumb face as you had to wait in line to use the restroom.

All the while, you felt hyper aware of your surroundings and started to take more photos of stickers on light poles and titles of books that were far too expensive but probably cheaper on resale somewhere. You watched Joe open a picture book of old school baseball players. You couldn’t help but snap a shot of the way he held the book open upon the stack of others. His long fingers ghosting over the pages like a treasure. The sun casting patterns across the scene.

“What is happening to you?” Joe laughed at your newfound hobby.

“We’re having fun, remember? I am anyway.” You chuckled, raising your camera inches from his face to snap a photo and giving him a mischievous grin before you scurried away. Joe’s laughter followed you out of the shop and all around the city.

//

That night Joe hyped you and Gwilym up into getting a little dressed up and going to a bar after dinner. Luckily the newer purchases you packed included a nice enough dress. Then you ended up at a piano bar. Something stuttered in your heart when you noticed the excitement in Joe’s eye’s as they peered into yours. You hadn’t played the piano since you sold your keyboard a couple of years ago. You barely even thought of playing, actually. But Joe clearly had picked this place for a reason, with the knowledge that it had always been your dream.

The piano bar was complete with green naugahyde and mahogany wood, totally stuck out of time but still classy somehow. The crowd varied in age, and you were charmed to find a girl younger than you playing the baby grand on the risen velvet stage.

You, Joe and Gwil sat in the middle of the room, at a cozy table. You ordered dark drinks and listened to each other’s stories while other peoples chatter blurred into the background. Joe ordered something fruity with a straw and held it in front of you, insisting you try it. You took a sip and looked to your friend with wide eyes to confirm it was super good. Gwilym snapped a photo of the two of you then.

“Awe, see, that’s the opposite of blackmail!” You chuckled.

“Or is it?” Gwilym shot you a menacing grin as he stood to order a new drink at the bar. Before you could decode his secret message, a voice caught your attention.

A nice looking gentleman with a German accent tapped on the microphone at the front of the stage as your friend walked away.

“Tonight we are inviting you lovely crowd to come up and play if you know how, or even just want to. Don’t be shy, but do take turns!” The man encouraged, slinking off stage while waving for the crowd to get up and muck about.

“You should.” Joe leaned forward, speaking quietly just to you. His soft gaze made your heart crack a little. You weren’t about to do that. But you almost wanted to, just because of how excited he looked. Had he known this was going to happen? Or was he just dazzled by the hands of fate opening this random door?

“Oh, I don’t know.” You shrugged sitting up a little. Joe did the same, following your gaze. “I haven’t played uh… for a while.”

“Oh, really?” Joe frowned. You didn’t want to disappoint him. You knew he chose this place just for you. But you couldn’t lie.

“I sold my keyboard years ago.” You sorrily shrugged, recalling the time you had no other choice to pay rent. And realizing now that you never told Joe out of some kind of shame. You’d moved overseas with big plans to play, and they all crumbled around you.

“Oh…” Joe bit his lip and got that look in his eye that you realized he always got at the mention of Wales.

“Okay listen.” You turned to Joe, gently demanding his attention. You’d had enough wine to delve into this conversation. And you had finally become fed up with how Joe always seemed more upset that you at the mention of your past.

“Kris and I were like… broken up or something for like, months near the end. Things weren’t good. All I’m saying is that things with him were over before they ended for real. And I don’t miss him. I don’t. I know I should. That’s what keeps me up at night. But I don’t miss him. So please don’t look at me like I’ve lost everything.” You spoke, reaching out touch Joe’s arm. He uncrossed them and turned to face you then with an answer.

“What happened to your 'it’s okay to be sad’ speech from last night?” Joe furrowed his brow, speaking a little louder than you had been to get his point across. But you didn’t feel better for talking about this, like you thought you might.

“This-” You sighed a groan, wanting to suddenly move far away from this topic. “This is different. My life in Wales died when Kris did, okay?” You decided, getting a little angry at the end of your sentence. You wanted to move on. That’s when Gwilym reappeared, a new drink in hand.

“Should we… maybe call it a night?” The lean Brit suggested, glancing between you and Joe. Your friend looked like he had more to say, but you couldn’t go on talking about it all tonight.

“No!” You demanded. “Sit down right now so we can have fun!” You’d gotten your first taste of good times after fearing they’d never come again, and you weren’t ready to give them up.

“This place is beautiful and I’m glad you picked it out, Joe.” You looked to him sincerely and his once-troubled expression softened. You hadn’t realized you left your hand on his knee until his fingers rested on top of yours.

///

After a few rounds of drinks and jokes about things you missed laughing about, you found yourself locked away in Joe’s guest room for the second night in a row; comfy in the sweatshirt you once asked to borrow (now sort of taken hostage.) Your phone rang as you turned down the bed, and you answered right away.

“Helllooo!” Tegan chirped from the other line right away, like she’d been waiting on to hear from you for weeks on end.

“What have I missed this time?” You laughed, snuggling against a heap of pillows.

“Me! You’ve missed me. Actually, I suddenly feel like I’m the one missing out.” Tegan playfully scoffed on the other line.

“Well, of course, I miss you but what are you talking about?” You wondered. Tegan knew the only activities that filled your days were sleeping, working and occasionally seeing Joe.

“I’m talking about the dreamboat in your Instagram post! What kind of bender are you on? Does he have a hot brother or would he be interested in-”

“Oh, God.” You cut her off with a laugh, afraid of what she might say next. “He’s Joe’s friend from the movie. And that’s all.”

“So he’s single and ready to dial my number then?”

“Well, he is Welsh.” You chided.

“I know, I stalked his profile long before this interrogation.”

“So then what’s with the twenty questions?” You laughed. Tegan never failed to keep you guessing.

“I was trying to get you to admit you miss me and this place so much that you’d found a tall handsome fellow to bring you back round.”

“No, no I’ll come back on my own someday, dear.”

“I know.” Tegan lowered her voice as if someone else might have been listening.

“I’ve got to find my sea legs though, yeah? I haven’t had a nightmare in a couple of weeks.” You proudly state, tossing the covers over your legs.

“That’s because you’re living the dream, honey,” Tegan stated, as if she really meant it, as if it wasn’t a joke.

After chatting a while longer about how she’d been managing the pub without you and filling you in on the happenings about the quaint little Welsh town, you had to call it a night when your eyes could hardly stay open.

After you hung up, your phone buzzed a few times in a row. Who could possibly try to be getting ahold of you now? You checked to find a notification from Instagram, about a new follower. Assuming Gwilym had just finally got around to liking the photo you posted featuring him, you went to go admire it one last time. But before your eyes focused on the photo in question, a shocking number arose from your notification button.

You had hundreds more followers and more than a thousand likes on your newest photograph. below hundreds of comments.

y'all are so CUTE!

Why is Joe tagged?

Is that his sister?

Where is Joe?

Oh shit, you thought. These boys really mattered to people who didn’t know them. They found you all because you’d tagged Gwilym and Joe. They wanted to know why Joe was tagged. They cared. The astounding influx of followers and likes alarmed you for a few seconds, as you stared at your profile, wondering if you should delete everything. But why? You were proud to finally have something to post about that wasn’t old a grey.

Just as you thought of closing out the app, another notification popped up, unlike all the rest. Joe had tagged you in a photo. He’d just posted the picture of the two of you that Gwilym had taken at the piano bar. The one of you drinking from the glass Joe is holding while you’re looking at each other. In his caption, only a couple of music note emojis.

///

Gwilym left the next afternoon, with a long face and a suitcase full of New York souvenirs. You hugged him for a long time at the loading gates of the airport and laughed when he lifted Joe off the ground for a hug of his own. You weren’t sure if you’d ever see Gwil again, because that’s how life worked. But instead of worrying over it, you felt happy to have gotten to know him.

Joe started the long drive back to your hometown. He blabbered on about how he needed to help his mom with something anyway so he was glad you came along in the first place, just so he could drop you back off again. But you started to feel bad about how long you’d spent mucking about Joe’s flat and wasting his newly valuable time.

“I can drive a little, if you want.” You nervously offered to spare him a little while of responsibility.

“Do you want to?” Joe shot a curious glance your way as he drove out of the city.

“I don’t mind.” Because, no you didn’t really want to. But you would.

“It’s okay,” Joe assured, settling back against his seat, both hands on the wheel.

“Well, then I can give you gas money, yeah?” You thought. You were suddenly desperate to pay him back somehow for the weekend.

“No,” Joe laughed unbelievably. “Why are you being weird?” He was still chuckling.

“Because! This weekend you’ve been absolutely way too generous. So let me do something for you! Are you hungry? I’ll get us dinner.” You waved your hands to make your point and turned to face Joe from the passenger seat.

“I guess I could eat, yeah.” Joe smiled, nodding his head toward the road as he drove. You were a couple of hours away from home, and thirty minutes from a few good stops.

“Alright! Cheesecake Factory. No buts! Step on it!”

“Do you have Stockholm Syndrome?” Joe outlandishly quizzed. You laughed. “Do I have Stockholm Syndrome?”

Joe continued to imagine insane scenarios all the way to the Cheesecake Factory. You skipped inside together and put your name in at the desk. There were three other families ahead of you in line, and a big party that had followed in just behind you and Joe. You didn’t mind the wait, and leaned against the wall next to Joe, clutching the restaurant buzzer in your fist.

“We’re going to tell them it’s your birthday, so get ready.” You smiled as if you were kidding, but you weren’t. There was a deep desperation in you that demanded you shower Joe with the kind of attention he’d shown you this weekend, and always now that you thought about it. You were tired of sulking. You were ready to get back to the way things should have always been.

“Why can’t we tell them it’s yours?” Joe jabbed your side, his sparkling eyes looking into yours with a question.

“Because tonight is very special all about you night.” You reminded as if this had always been clear.

“Alright well, I want to tell them it’s your birthday.” Joe decided, imitating a snotty brat, sticking his nose in the air as if to make his decision final. Just as you started to laugh and curse at him, someone snaked their way through the waiting area packed with people and stopped in front of you.

“You two!” A voice rang. You were looking at Joe when you heard it, and watched his eyes turn in recognition. A girl with mousy brown hair dyed blue at the tips stood in front of you, and she looked the same as she had in high school.

“Keeley!” You practically shrieked, pushing yourself from the wall to wrap her in a hug. Keeley was one of your closest friends from high school. She would invite you over to play guitar hero and help you cheat on homework. When you weren’t riding bikes around town with Keeley, you were usually with Joe, but on many treasured occasions you could be found at the baseball diamond as a trio, when her little brother was on the same team as Joe’s brother.

“I didn’t realize you were back in town.” Joe hugged the girl after you had your turn. She went to Chicago after graduating and you slowly stopped texting each other long-winded updates over the years, even forgoing checking in on social media. But there didn’t seem to be any hard feelings.

“I didn’t realize either of you were back in the country!” Keeley laughed, looking between you and Joe.

“Oh, God I’m sorry, babe-” Keeley turned around and wrapped her fingers around someone’s wrist. “This is my fiance Rebeca.” Keeley beamed a smile at a woman with big brown eyes and a timid smile.

“This is Y/N, who I will always be indebted to for getting kicked off the volleyball team when she took the blame for the time I slashed the principal’s tires.” Keeley fawned over you as you shook your head in remembrance.

“And this is Joe, our resident movie star and the only person who has ever beaten me at Scrabble.” Keeley gestured to Joe as her fiance cocked her head. You knew that look. Joe did too.

“Hey- weren’t you in that Queen movie?” Rebeca pointed up to Joe with a smirk. He let himself smile and started to give a coy nod as he turned his eyes toward you, for some reason.

“That’s why you were so excited to see it, huh?” Rebeca turned to Keeley and your old high school friend started to laugh.

“I’ll always go see your movies, Maz. I’ll even sit through shitty cop shows just to see that cute face of yours. You’re really good, ya know that?” Keeley gave Joe a playful punch in the arm when your buzzer started to go off.

“I’m still much better at Scrabble than anything else.” He smiled.

“Man, we’re being summoned.” You frowned, holding the timer in view.

“Call next time you’re in town!” Joe demanded toward the girls, preparing to follow you toward the desk. You reached out to give Keeley a quick hug. You waved to Rebeca and assured it was nice to meet her as the ladies turned to leave.

“Come on, birthday boy.” You grinned, looping your arm through Joes and foiling his plans to foil yours.

“It’s your birthday? Happy birthday!” Rebeca called over her shoulder.

“Thank you.” Joe sighed through his teeth, dragged you away giving you a look that made you laugh out loud. You totally won whatever game you were playing tonight.

But just nanoseconds before Keeley and Rebeca were out of earshot, you heard your friend’s fiance gush “They were so cute together!”

But you were too distracted by a friendly hostess to let the distant comment sink in.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[manchurian-barnes]

Glass Slippers and a Soldier.

Part (1/2)

A Cinderella inspired Bucky Barnes X Reader.

( as requested by @paywilson1 )

My Masterlist.

There was a lot of stress involved with being one of Tony Starks assistants. It was always “go here and get me this.” or “I need you to stay late and fill out this for me”. Though throughout all of that, (y/n) couldn’t complain. Her job within Stark Industries and her work with the Avengers was the highlight of her life. She didn’t think so much of the work she had to do all the time, even when many people around her told her it was too much and she needed a break. She would never complain. Simply plastering on a smile and continuing like it was nothing, her boss would often tell her “It’s like you have super-human coping, all my other assistants crumble under the stress.”. She never thought much of it. Life was nothing without a pinch of hard work every now and then. Today was no exception. She was walking through the halls of the avengers complex with a pile of papers and binders which was taller than her head.

She kept a gracious smile that morning as Mr. Stark apologised for not having done any of it himself. It didn’t surprise (y/n) in the slightest to hear his excuse, he was busy organising one of his infamous parties. “You’re a life saver.” Tony called whilst she hd walked out of his (and Doctor Banner’s) lab. She could hear the rhythmic patter of her shoes off the floor and before she knew it, she was lost in herself, in a daydream.

“Im so sorry-” A male voice broke her trance and before she truly had registered it she was on the cold floor and her papers were splayed out across the marble. She knelt up silently, “It’s alright.” She murmured gently. Starting to reach out for her things before her hand collided with something cold, making her arm recoil slightly. She looked towards her hand, which had bumped into another silver hand.  “No, I wasn’t watching out for you...” The voice chuckled, deep and raspy. Her eyes fluttered upwards, being met by steely blue eyes. She looked back down quickly.

“Have we met before?” he asked, helping her to gather the files. She would see Bucky everyday, she made it a point to be helpful to every avenger though it would be lying to say she didn’t have a soft spot for the winter soldier. She’d often leave him coffee out in the morning or slide his daily schedule under his door for him (noticing he was an often forgetful person). Everyone knew she did this, and left it undisclosed. She would see Bucky numerous times throughout her day, saying a quite “hello” as she passed him, and yet still he could never seem to remember seeing her. “...Yes, Sargent Barnes-” She murmured lightly before she heard another more familiar voice. “Bucky, why are ya’ on the floor with Tony’s assistant?” Sam Wilson called. She found her footing again and nodded as Bucky placed his half of her pile onto what she already held. Turning and staring to walk. She looked down slightly as she heard the men talking.

“-but who was she?” Bucky’s voice was asking in a soft confusion. She looked over her shoulder to see Sam patting his back and chuckling a little, “She’s just one in the long list of Stark’s assistants man, don’t worry ‘bout it.”. Just an assistant, who was forever invisible to Bucky Barnes.

There was nothing special about her she supposed. She didn’t wear fancy outfits like previous assistants had. She normally just wore whatever she could find, with an old grey cardigan on top of it. Once she reached her tucked away desk she sat down in her chair, beginning to sort through files. Before hearing, “Stark’s got you doing twice as much as yesterday.” letting out a laugh, (y/n) looked up.

“hey Nat.” she smiled widely, “It’s not really that much, most of it just has to be dated and signed-”. The red head moved towards her and sat on top of her papers. “You look defeated.” she pointed out, leaning her elbows on her knees. “It’s nothing...” (y/n) went quiet. Before moving her chair forward and lightly hitting the side of Nat’s thigh, indicating her to slide over so that she could continue to work. The assassin huffed, “I’m going to take this as the stress starting to get to you, this job is too much-” “Don’t you dare, I love this job.” (y/n) gasped slightly, before looking back up to meet the bright green eyes of Romanoff again. The other woman chuckled. (y/n) looked upwards, the window opposite her leading out into the training grounds. The bright blue sky and lush grass seemed beautiful alone until her eyes fell on the super-soldier outside. Bucky stood far off pulling her hair outwards from his face, showcasing his features more. She didn’t realise she had even let out a sigh until Natasha chipped in again. “You could go and talk to him.” She hummed and moved off the desk, draping her arm over (y/n)’s shoulder. “You could let me get my work finished.” (y/n) smirked slightly as she retorted.

Nat moved back raising her arms in surrender, “I’m just saying, he’s a person, you’re a person-” “An invisible person.” (y/n) exclaimed. She looked down at all her paperwork. Letting out a sigh. Nat gasped slightly and looked at my wide eyed, “The party tonight! You could talk to him there!” She started to jump up and down slightly in happiness. “I didn’t get an invite.” (y/n) murmured slightly, making the red-head halt her actions, “I have work to do-”. She was silenced by Natasha shifting through the papers and pulling out a spare and unaddressed invite. “I can’t steal and invite Nat!” the woman’s eyes gazed over the white card and the silver writing, “Mr Stark would be upset-” Nat’s smirk only grew wider, “He won’t even know you’re there.”. (y/n) began to shake her head even quicker, “Nat he would see me, and I can’t be out all night I have so much to do...” She said lowly and tried to pay attention to her work once more. “It’s a masquerade and i’ll get you out of there at midnight, Cinderella.” Natasha chuckled before adding, “Anymore arguments?”

“I don’t have anything to wear...” (y/n) spoke as she took the invite, “Isn’t that what you’re fairy-godmother is for?” Natasha laughed. Both woman nodding to one another, “As soon as it hits six, come to my room.” (y/n) nodding in total understanding as Natasha started to run off. Looking back out the window towards Bucky, smiling a little more, tonight she would be remembered.

thanks for reading!