#my teeth are fucking killing me rn i has my trays out for too long bc i was scared of my tooth

[coridallasmultipass]

YOOoo I was trying to find guitar tabs for the song in Phantasm where Jodi and Reggie are jamming (couldn't find tabs), but I stumbled upon a playlist of the Phantasm theme sampled in different songs, and a bunch are like hip hop/rap, and hoLY FUCK IT GOES HARD LIKE THESE.

Site: https://www.phantasm.com/music

Original theme:

Earliest sample shown on the site (the guitar in this fucks):

Fun 90s sample (Master P!):

2000s sample (they also sampled it in the 90s too):

Modern 2010s sound:

So yeah, that was really cool to find. I learned the theme on guitar again and had a different kinda jam sesh with those playing lmao.

[antivancoffeelover]

stucky fic i’m abandoning under the cut bc i’m so far into thorki rn and writing loki was my fav part of this story woops lol. i want this out of my WIP folder, staring at me as if to ask “when father, when will i be complete?”

never.

enjoy!

Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to shake so many hands. The conference only happened once every three years, and he hadn’t been able to dodge it this time. Natasha had laughed at him when he read the invitation.

One Captain Steven G. Rogers has been invited and by then it was too late. Coulson gave him the ‘that’s too bad’ smile and sent him off.

Fifteen countries all bound together by secret treaties and trade agreements, all here to celebrate peace and prosperity and the future they were creating. Steve would have had a much easier time focusing on that goal if his translator wasn’t driving him fucking insane.

Sergeant James B ‘call me Bucky’ Barnes was Steve’s type on legs. He was an accomplished soldier, a great spy as far as Steve could weedle information from his contacts. He also spoke more than a dozen languages.

And he clearly had no idea that Steve was fluent in French.

If he knew, he wouldn’t have been saying any of the wonderful, distracting things he’d been saying all damn day. It started with a sly remark he made to Natasha on the phone earlier. Casually, in the middle of lunch, he was speaking with her in English and he accused her of this being a set up.

Then he switched to French halfway through the sentence. “You could’ve warned me, y’know, sa bouche.”

Steve stopped for a moment, then just listened as Bucky kept going. And going. And going.

It started with Steve’s mouth, then went to his shoulders, which apparently Bucky thought were perfect for holding onto when the headboard started smacking against the wall.

Steve wasn’t a spy, not by any shot, but he could keep a straight face. Natasha must have reminded him about the concept of professionalism, even if she neglected to mention that Steve would understand what he was saying, because after about three full sentences of Bucky’s lust-hazed complaining he went back to talking about the conference. They didn’t have to do much, just listen to speeches and eat good food, but there were plenty of people who would want to speak with Steve.

Plans for this and that, where do you think so-and-so is going, why do you think this happened, and what do we do about this person or that person. It was the same conversation over and over on repeat with thirty people. Bucky shared his exasperation, Steve could tell that much.

“Why did I even bother with fluency when I’m just using the same ten words in each damn language?” He groused.

Steve laughed and grabbed them both champagne from a passing tray. “At this rate I could probably have these conversations myself.”

Bucky laughed and downed his entire glass. Steve took his time with his, since Bucky seemed to have such a problem with his mouth. He licked an errant drop of champagne off of his lower lip and barely kept himself from smiling when Bucky cussed.

“Putain de merde, ce soir doit se terminer.” Bucky kept a polite face as he muttered to himself.

Steve decided to be merciful. “La fête va terminer en trente minutes, je crois.”

Bucky’s eyes widened and his shoulders stiffened. “Tu… peux me comprendre.”

Steve nodded, a smirk on his lips as he finished his champagne. “Ouais, je te comprends.”

Bucky swallowed roughly and grabbed another flute of champagne. Steve laughed and Bucky looked at him as he drank this glass even faster than the first. He watched Steve for a moment, then his unease melted away.

“Toute la journée t’as compris?” Bucky asked, his voice not so tight as it was a moment ago.

Steve nodded and smiled at him, looking at him through his eyelashes. “Oui, j’ai entendu et compris tout.”

Bucky laughed and shook his head. “Oh, incredible. I’m going to kill Natasha.”

“It’s not her fault, I’m the one who didn’t say anything.” Steve smiled at a passing ambassador, then nodded to another. He didn’t look at Bucky as he spoke. “T’as dit quelque chose de ma bouche pendant l’appel avec Natasha.”

Bucky regarded him for a moment, then licked his lips and stepped closer to Steve and whispered into his ear. “Ouais, et tu vas faire quoi?”

Steve turned his head and let his lips brush Bucky’s ear. “On va voir.”

They took a short step away from one another, facing each other fully now. Bucky smiled to someone over Steve’s shoulder and didn’t meet his eyes. “Nous ne pouvons pas quitter tôt, c’est pas joli.”

Steve scanned the crowd until he found the man he was looking for. Long, black hair was slicked back and a dark green and black suit clung to his frame. He was as elegant a killer as there was, and he was the host tonight.

“Allons.” Steve started walking before Bucky could reply.

He acknowledged people in the crowd as they walked, but didn’t stop long enough to give anyone a chance to speak. Loki’s eyes brightened as Steve approached.

“Captain Rogers, you look positively edible tonight.” Loki shook his hand firmly, eyes sharp as he glanced from Steve to Bucky beside him. “How can I be of assistance?”

Steve pulled Loki’s hand up for a kiss, smiling against the knuckles. Loki raised an eyebrow. It was that kind of favor.

“I need to leave, but I can’t be signed out until everyone else is. Can you make that happen?” Steve let go of Loki’s slender hand and kept eye contact.

After looking between them, Loki chuckled. “Steven, you’re laughably predictable. What do I get in exchange for forging the attendance logs of an international event with private security? Logs that need your fingerprint to sign out.”

Steve looked off toward one of the exits, the best one if he wanted to leave without drawing attention to them. “I’ll owe you a favor.”

Loki hummed and pursed his lips. “Why would I need a favor from you?”

“It can be a favor for Thor.” Steve kept his voice low, mindful of any who would be listening.

Loki straightened as he stood and if Steve didn’t know him, he might not have caught the flash of surprise that preceded Loki’s wide smile. His voice was barely loud enough to hear. “Does this mean that you want to help? Even after what Stark said?”

Steve didn’t say anything, just held Loki’s eyes. Loki was good at reading people. It only took a few seconds for him to have his answer.

“Alright, Steven. You and your interpreter will be signed out at 9:37 and 9:38 respectively. Plenty of time to have said goodbyes and paid proper respects to everyone here.” Loki slipped in close enough that Steve could smell the rose oil in his hair. “I’ll tell Thor to call you. He’ll be pleased to hear you’ve picked a side, even if you’re doing it under pretense.”

Too good at reading people. Steve shook Loki’s hand again. “Thank you.”

Bucky followed Steve through the crowd as they made their way to the exit next to the bathrooms. No one was looking as they went through the door. They walked quickly to the parking structure and Steve tossed Bucky the keys.

Once inside, Bucky wasted no time tearing out of the space and speeding into the city. “You know how to pick your friends, don’t you, pal?”

Steve smiled. “Well, I’m not picking anyone you didn’t already pick, right?”

Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it. “That’s some network of contacts you must have. How much do you know?”

“I’m not talking shop right now. But I know you’re not here to be a translator, and I’m not here to be your mark tonight.” Steve reached into his pocket and turned his phone off, then took the battery out.

Bucky grinned and shook his head as he took a turn a little too hard. “Natasha said I’d like you.”

“Yeah, I think she’s why I ended up here.” Steve mused, fingers twitching as they got closer to their hotel. “You really didn’t know I speak French?”

Bucky shook his head. “I just got the assignment yesterday, and Natasha wouldn’t tell me anything. I couldn’t get any information on you anywhere else. I almost thought it was a prank.”

“She told me who you were four days ago.” Steve chuckled and shook his head. “It still could be a prank.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think so. She put us together for a reason.” Bucky turned into the hotel lot and parked by one of the side entrances.

Steve considered it. “It’s treason.”

Bucky nodded and finally cut the engine off. “It’s the right thing to do. Didn’t you say no shop talk?”

“You're right, no shop, let's go.” Steve all but dragged Bucky through the hotel, both of them reasonably composed in the elevator.

That lasted right until the door was closed, then Steve slammed Bucky into the door and sank his teeth into Bucky’s neck. The groan he got in return had his cock filling quickly, swelling and pressing against the fly of his slacks. He felt too hot in the confines of his suit, with Bucky’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and Bucky’s breath ghosting across his ear.