#the background is the idea of sitting on a brick wall

[ybbag777]

I have an incurable disease and the only cure is drawing Johnny Cade again. It's terminal

[brunchable]

How To Impress a 21st Century Girl.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Themes: Rom-Com, Fluff, Mutual Pining(Heavy?), First Date, Flirtation and Playfulness.

Summary: Sam had forced Bucky to use Tinder to solve his abysmal love life. Bucky tells himself that if third time isn't a charm, he will officially give up trying to find a partner.

A/N: I'm a sucker for rom-coms, I hope you guys enjoyed this because I enjoyed writing it.

tags: @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917

It had all been Sam’s idea. "Come on, man. You need to get back out there!" Sam had said, way too enthusiastically, while setting up a Tinder profile for him without even asking. Bucky had resisted at first, arguing that dating apps probably weren't his thing. But Sam was persistent, reminding him that it was 2024, not 1944, and that "no one meets in grocery stores anymore."

Reluctantly, Bucky had gone along with it, figuring it couldn’t hurt to try. What was the worst that could happen?

Well, now he knew.

Bucky was starting to think Tinder was out to get him. His first two dates had been disasters—and not just normal awkwardness, but spectacularly bad. The first girl, Jenny, had brought her ex-boyfriend to the date. Apparently, he was her ride, and they were still "good friends." Bucky had spent two hours third-wheeling a reunion he hadn’t signed up for. The second girl, Alicia, had a collection of ceramic frogs. And when Bucky said “collection,” he meant obsession. The girl spent an entire dinner showing him photos of different frog figurines. It was ribbiting. Literally. One of them even made croaking sounds.

So, now here he was, on date number three, standing outside some trendy café, wondering what fresh nightmare awaited him. This time, though, he’d let you plan the date. Maybe handing over control would be better than having to smile through another amphibian-themed dinner.

You showed up right on time, and Bucky was genuinely relieved to see no ex-boyfriend hovering in the background. You were wearing a paneled knit dress with spaghetti straps that hugged you just right, and your short hair was perfectly tousled. You smiled at him, but the look on your face told him you were just as unsure as he was.

“Hi,” you greeted, and Bucky instantly forgot every single normal response. Holy shit he is TALL.

“Hey, I’m Bucky.” he mumbled back. He was really nailing this whole dating thing.

You walked inside, and the café had that minimalist vibe. A lot of plants. A lot of exposed brick. The kind of place where you’re not sure if you’re supposed to sit or admire the interior design.

As you both sat down, Bucky tried to channel his inner suave. He could do this. He had faced way worse than an awkward date. Like alien invasions. Like that one time he lost his arm again. This was nothing.

Except... why was talking to an attractive woman harder than fighting off super soldiers?

“I, uh, like your dress,” Bucky said, already feeling the heat creep up his neck. Nice, Barnes, real original.

“Thanks,” you replied, with an amused smile playing on your lips. “I like your... jacket.”

Bucky nodded, looking down at his worn leather jacket. “Yeah. It’s... warm.”

Warm? That’s what you’re going with? He mentally slapped himself. This was going well. So well. He tried to change the subject and scanned the menu. “Uh... so, what’s good here?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “The internet said they have good coffee, though.”

“Internet reviews, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “That’s always a gamble. Could be great... could be a disaster.”

Cue the awkward silence.

The waiter had barely placed the food in front of you both before the quiet tension stretched between you like you were sitting in a library, not a café. Bucky poked at his bagel as if it might come to life at any moment, while you took a delicate sip of your coffee, your eyes darting between him and the wall behind him.

You both chewed in the most nonchalant way possible, each of you hyper-aware of the silence that was growing louder by the second. You were mentally cursing every decision that led to this exact moment, and Bucky, for his part, was questioning whether retiring from the whole Avenger thing had been a mistake.

Say something. Anything, Bucky thought, taking another bite of his bagel, which suddenly felt like chewing rubber. Ask about herr favorite food? No, that’s boring. Comment on the weather? Oh, yeah, nothing like ‘Hey, it’s been cold lately,’ to really sweep her off her feet. Real smooth.

Meanwhile, you were trying to figure out how you managed to forget how to make normal conversation. Maybe ask him about his hobbies? No, that’s basic. Compliment his hair? What are you, in fifth grade? Pull yourself together!

Bucky, still chewing the world’s driest bagel, caught your eye for a split second, and you both did that polite half-smile thing that happens when you’re not sure whether you should talk or continue pretending to enjoy the food.

Did she just smile at me because I’m being awkward, or am I overthinking this? Bucky wondered, immediately breaking eye contact and pretending his coffee was the most fascinating thing on the table.

You, on the other hand, were screaming internally. Oh God, did I smile too weird? Was it the kind of smile that says, ‘I like you,’ or the one that says, ‘I’m trapped in this date and don’t know how to escape’?

You both took another sip of your drinks at the exact same time.

Alright, Barnes, get it together. Say something smart, Bucky told himself, putting his mug down carefully.

“So, uh... how’s your coffee?”

You blinked, your brain scrambling for a response. How’s my coffee? It’s coffee. Just say it’s good. Don’t overthink it.

“It’s... good. How’s your bagel?”

Bucky looked down at the circular piece of bread like it had personally betrayed him. “It’s... round.”

Round? Really? You went with ‘round’? Smooth, real smooth, he chastised himself, nodding like he had just made the most profound statement about bagels ever.

Your lips twitched. Did he just describe his food as ‘round’? Okay, maybe I’m not the only one struggling here.

You took another sip of your coffee, trying to hide your smile. God, this is like watching two middle schoolers on a first date.

You both glanced at each other again. Smile. Look away. Silence.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. Alright, clearly, she thinks I’m a complete idiot. But it’s fine. I can recover. Just... find a topic. Literally any topic.

You picked at your napkin. Okay, maybe I should mention the escape room next. But what if he hates escape rooms? What if he thinks they’re boring? You cleared your throat slightly, ready to speak, but then—

Bucky cleared his throat at the same time. You both froze, staring at each other like deer caught in headlights.

“You go first,” Bucky said quickly.

“No, no, you first,” you insisted, waving your hand.

Bucky’s brain blanked. He blinked, searching for anything to say. “Uh... did you... park nearby?”

You stared at him, and then a smile slowly spread across your face. Did he really just ask me about parking? You nodded. “No I–um took public transport. Did you?”

Bucky gave a stiff nod. “Yeah. Close. Very close. Super convenient.”

You both stared at each other for a beat, and then, in a miraculous moment, you both cracked up at the exact same time.

“Parking?” you laughed, shaking your head. “That’s the best we’ve got?”

Bucky held up his hands. “Hey, I panicked, okay? The bagel threw me off.”

You wiped a tear from your eye, your shoulders shaking with laughter. “And I thought the frogs were bad.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh harder. “Okay, in my defense, this date is way better than ceramic frogs.”

“Glad to be the non-frog date.” You raised your cup in mock salute.

You both chuckled, and for the first time, the awkward tension seemed to melt away. Sure, you were a bit of a mess, but at least you were a mess together.

As you calmed down, you leaned forward, a playful grin on your face. “So, what’s next? You ready for the escape room?”

“I dunno. Should I be worried?” Bucky smirked, feeling a lot lighter.

“Only if you’re bad at puzzles,” you teased.

Bucky crossed his arms, leaning back with a smirk. “Oh, trust me, I think I’ll manage.”

And with that, you both finally stood up to head for the next part of your date, the awkwardness left behind with the round bagel and the overly complicated coffee.

× × × ×

As soon as you stepped into the Asylum escape room, the mood shifted from "awkward first date" to "this might be how I die."

Oh, great. Creepy hospital décor. Perfect first-date vibes. You eyed the flickering lights and eerie medical tools scattered around the room, trying not to let on how much it was creeping you out. At least it’s better than ceramic frogs, you thought, glancing at Bucky.

“This is supposed to be the hardest escape room they have,” you said, glancing at Bucky. “Takes most people at least an hour. You ready for this?”

“Yeah, sure. I mean... it’s puzzles, right? How hard can it be?” Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to appear calm. I’ve literally fought aliens. How bad could a few puzzles be?

“You’ve never done one of these before, right?” You looked at him, a bit skeptical.

He shook his head. “First time. But, uh... I’m good under pressure.” Under pressure? What am I saying? I sound like I’m about to defuse a bomb, not solve a riddle. Get a grip, Barnes.

“Alright. Let’s do this.” You smiled, trying to hide your own nerves. 

The clock started ticking, and immediately, you were plunged into darkness. A loud creak echoed through the room, followed by a voice over the intercom: “Welcome to the Asylum. You have 60 minutes to escape. Good luck... you’ll need it.”

Perfect. Creepy voice? Check. Flickering lights? Check. Yep, I'm doomed. You moved toward a stack of papers, squinting at the dim lighting. “Okay, first thing’s first... we need to find the clues hidden in this room to unlock the door.”

Before you could even start, Bucky was already inspecting a random pipe on the wall. He tugged at it, and it came loose, revealing a hidden key taped to the back. Oh, that was... lucky? Or did I just break something?

You froze mid-step. “Wait. How did you—”

“I... uh... just pulled on it.” Bucky looked just as surprised as you. Did I just accidentally solve this?

“Okay. Lucky guess.” You stared at him. 

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe.” Play it cool, Barnes. Don't look like you’re clueless here.

You both moved into the next room, which had even creepier décor. Faint writing on the walls, jars filled with unidentifiable things, and a mannequin in the corner that Bucky immediately side-eyed like it was going to jump out at you. Okay, I don’t trust that mannequin. Why’s it looking at me like that?

You picked up a piece of paper with some cryptic writing on it. “This says something about finding the light within the dark. I think it’s a clue. We need to—”

“Found it,” Bucky called out.

You turned to see him holding up a blacklight. How does he keep doing this?! 

“They always hide something with a blacklight, right?” He grinned, flashing the light on the wall, revealing a series of glowing numbers. That’s a thing, right? People hide stuff with these lights all the time... right?

“Oh, you’re just full of ideas now, huh?” You crossed your arms, smirking.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool. “Just... using my instincts.” Yep. Totally knew that.

You worked through the next few puzzles, but by "worked," what you really meant was Bucky accidentally stumbling into the solutions. Every time you tried to figure out a clue, Bucky would casually touch something, pull a lever, or press a random button that—surprise—opened the next door or revealed the next key. At first, you thought he was joking. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear: Bucky was somehow solving the escape room by sheer dumb luck—or so you thought.

This is starting to freak me out... Am I secretly a genius? Bucky thought.

At one point, you were trying to decipher a complicated code etched into the wall, mumbling to yourself about numerology and patterns, when Bucky—completely oblivious—pulled a book off the shelf, and a hidden door creaked open in the floor.

No. No way. “Are you—” You blinked. “Did you just—”

Bucky glanced at the open trapdoor, confused. “What? Was that not supposed to happen?”

You slapped your forehead. “No! I mean, yes, but—oh my God, Bucky, you’re breaking the game.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose!” Seriously, I just touched a book. How is that a thing?

You looked down at the trapdoor, then back at him. “What are you? A puzzle savant? Did you plan this?”

Bucky laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Nah, I just thought the book looked weird.” Great, now she thinks I’m some kind of escape room wizard.

You gaped at him. “The book looked weird?” Weird? Dude, I’m starting to think you have X-ray vision.

“I mean... yeah. It was dusty.” It wasn’t even that weird... or was it?

You squinted at him, hands on your hips. “You’re telling me you spotted a dusty book and thought, ‘Aha! Hidden door.’?”

“Isn’t that... what you’re supposed to do in these rooms?” Bucky shrugged, looking genuinely sorry. Please tell me that's how this works.

This man is unbelievable. You stared at him for a long moment before bursting out laughing. “Oh my God. You’re accidentally good at this. You’re just walking around solving stuff like you do this every weekend!”

Bucky chuckled, his shoulders relaxing a little. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m glad she’s laughing. “I swear I’ve never done this before.” This isn’t even the weirdest thing that’s happened to me this week.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified,” you teased, stepping closer to him. “You’re like a walking cheat code.” Sure, Sherlock. Whatever you say.

“Hey, I’m just here to help.” He smiled, clearly enjoying your reaction. At least she’s impressed. That’s something.

I think you might secretly be a robot. You shook your head, grinning. “Alright, escape room prodigy, let’s see if you can crack the last one.”

You entered the final room—a dimly lit chamber with a creepy-looking mannequin in the corner and random medical equipment scattered around. You narrowed your eyes.

“Okay, this is the hardest part. No way you’re going to just... guess your way out of this one.”

“Yeah, this one’s. . . tricky.” Bucky glanced around, clearly trying to look casual. Please don’t let me stumble into the solution again... 

Please don’t let him find the solution immediately. Just this once.

You pointed at the mannequin. “We need to find a code hidden somewhere in this room. The clue says it’s ‘locked in the mind.’ So it has to be something mental, right? Like a puzzle?”

Bucky stared at the mannequin for a second, then slowly reached out and twisted its head off. Inside, there was a slip of paper with the code on it. Oh, come on. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Are you KIDDING me?!” Your jaw dropped. 

“I just thought... you know... maybe the head comes off?” Bucky held up the paper, looking sheepish. 

Why am I even here?! You threw your hands up in the air. “Of COURSE the head comes off! Because that makes total sense! Sure!”

Bucky bit back a laugh. “Well, it did say ‘locked in the mind.’” Technically, I was right.

You glared at him, then shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “Okay, that’s it. You’re banned from escape rooms. You ruin them.”

“Ruined it?” Bucky asked, grinning. “We escaped, didn’t we?” She’s totally impressed, even if she won’t admit it.

“We escaped in twelve minutes, Bucky! Twelve!” You slapped his arm playfully. “That’s not normal!”

He laughed, ducking his head. “Sorry?” Guess I’m not so bad at this ‘fun date’ thing.

As you both stepped out of the escape room, the staff was standing there, looking like they’d just witnessed the impossible.

“You’re... done?” Pink-haired Girl asked, your eyes wide with disbelief.

Wow. They look like I just told them Santa isn’t real, Bucky thought.

You, just as confused, looked over at Bucky. “Uh. . .yeah, I guess?”

“Looks like it.” Bucky gave a casual shrug. No big deal. Just casually shattering dreams.

Clipboard Guy checked his stopwatch again, his mouth hanging open. “Twelve minutes. No. That’s not possible. People are supposed to break down in there. We’ve had people cry!”

Cry? What is this, an escape room or emotional boot camp? “You want me to go back in and tear up a little? You know, for the full experience?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

“People have left that room emotionally damaged. You just... strolled out.” Pink-haired Girl blinked. 

You stared at Bucky, still wrapping your head around it. “I didn’t even get through the first clue, and you were already unlocking half the room.”

“You were working hard. I just sped things up a bit.” Bucky chuckled softly, glancing at you with a playful smile. I mean, you were giving it a solid effort...

The Master of Puzzles guy appeared, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Did you... have the answers beforehand? Because that’s the hardest room we’ve got. We’ve had people rage-quit in there.”

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, looking amused. “Nah, just good at finding my way out of things.”

“I didn’t even do anything. You solved the whole thing!” You shook your head, still half-laughing, half in disbelief.

“Hey, you were a great moral support.” Bucky smiled at you, nudging you lightly. Seriously, though, it’s good to have someone to watch while I dismantle a room’s dignity.

Clipboard Guy muttered, “We’re gonna have to ban him. He’s banned.”

Oh no, I’ve ruined their sacred puzzle temple.

“He broke the hardest room we’ve got. Who even does that?” Pink-haired Girl nodded, still dumbfounded. 

“Well, I’d offer to go back and struggle a bit, but... I don’t think it’d be convincing.” Bucky smirked, leaning casually against the counter. Trust me, I can’t fake being bad at something. Even if I tried.

As you headed for the exit, Bucky held the door open for you, giving the staff one last glance before he leaned over to you, voice low. 

“What? You wanted to be stuck in there all night?”

“Honestly? It would’ve been nice to solve at least one puzzle.” You groaned, though you were smiling.

“Next time, I’ll let you have the first clue. Promise.” Bucky chuckled softly. And by let you, I mean I’ll stand far away from everything and try not to accidentally win.

 “You better.” You laughed, shaking your head as you both stepped out into the night.

× × × ×

The arcade was buzzing with lights, sounds, and the faint scent of popcorn. It was a complete shift from the eerie asylum escape room, and you were already eyeing the rows of flashing machines and claw games with glee.

Alright, this is more like it. No creepy mannequins here, just good old-fashioned fun.

Bucky, on the other hand, looked around like he had just entered a foreign world. The last time he’d been in an arcade, they didn’t have all this flashing neon or half the games that were here now. What happened to the simple stuff? Pinball machines and jukeboxes. Now I’ve got ten-foot robots staring at me while kids slap buttons like their lives depend on it.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile at how excited you looked. Okay, if she’s this excited, maybe this won’t be so bad.

“Okay, so... how does this place work again?” he asked, watching a kid furiously slap buttons at a nearby game.

You laughed, giving him a gentle nudge. “It’s simple! We just play a bunch of games, earn tickets, and then trade them in for really weird prizes. Easy.”

Bucky nodded, though he still looked a little confused. “So, you win tickets by—?”

“By being amazing at games, obviously,” you said, your eyes already darting toward a nearby basketball shooting game. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

Bucky followed you, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, I’ll keep up.” Alright, let’s see if I remember how to be competitive at... basketball?

You started with basketball, and while you had a decent shot, Bucky quickly became the Michael Jordan of arcade basketball. He tossed shot after shot into the hoop with ridiculous ease, barely even looking like he was trying.

Oh, come on. Seriously? Why is he good at everything? You shook your head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. Are you serious right now? Are you even aiming?”

“I dunno. I just... throw.” Bucky shrugged, not missing a single shot. 

“This is what I get for going on a date with someone who’s literally built for accuracy.” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. Why am I pretending like I’m mad? It’s honestly impressive.

He flashed a boyish grin. “You wanted to see if I could keep up.” Oh, I’m keeping up, doll.

You crossed your arms, pretending to pout. “I wasn’t trying to lose in record time.”

When the game ended, Bucky had a ridiculous amount of points, and you had... well, significantly fewer. He collected your combined tickets from the machine, glancing down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Should I carry these, or do you want to hold on to the three tickets you earned?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

How is he still charming even while teasing me? This is unfair. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you snatched a couple of tickets from his hand with a grin. “You know what? Fuck you.”

“Careful, doll. You keep talking like that, and I might just take you up on it.” Bucky’s smirk widened, and he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough to make your pulse quicken. 

Okay, that was a little too good. I should not be blushing right now. Your eyes widened for a second, a flush creeping up your neck before you shot him a playful glare. “You wish.”

“You know I don’t have to wish for anything.” He chuckled, stepping back with a wink.

Well, that escalated quickly. You tried to bite back your smile, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at you. “I’m starting to regret bringing you here.”

Bucky held up the stack of tickets, grinning like a kid who just won the lottery. “You’re only regretting it because I’m walking away with all the prizes.” Did I just turn an arcade into a battlefield?

“Yeah, yeah, keep rubbing it in.” You huffed, shaking your head, though the smile on your face said otherwise. 

Bucky shot you another wink. “Oh, I plan to.”

This guy is dangerous with that smile. You smirked, leaning in a little. “So... what happened to the awkward guy who pointed out that bagels are round? Because this,” you waved at the arcade tickets, “does not feel like the same guy.”

“What? You weren’t impressed by my bagel observations?” Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. I was doing my best back then, okay?

You laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, I was very impressed. I just didn’t know you were hiding this arcade legend behind all that bagel wisdom.”

He grinned, eyes glinting. “I’m full of surprises, doll.” You have no idea.

“Clearly,” you said, still teasing him as you walked toward the next game. “Let’s see how many more surprises you’ve got.”

You dragged him over to the shooting gallery game, where you were met with an array of plastic rifles and paper targets.

“I’m kinda good at this,” you declared, grabbing one of the rifles with renewed determination. “You can’t have a crazy aim for everything.” Finally, something I can win.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “Okay. Let’s see what you got.”

You aimed and fired... missing every single target. You winced as the targets flipped back and forth, mocking you with their tiny, evil faces. Are you kidding me?

“You’re holding it too tight.” Bucky stepped up beside you, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Oh, great. Here we go. The expert.” You groaned. Of course, I’m holding it too tight. Leave it to Bucky to know everything.

Bucky smiled, but instead of saying anything, he stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around you, his hands gently guiding yours on the plastic gun. You froze, your heart skipping a beat as you felt the warmth of him so close. His breath was soft against your ear as he leaned in to guide your aim, his voice low and steady.

Why does he have to be so good at this? I can barely think straight.

“Relax,” he murmured, his hands adjusting yours gently. “Don’t grip it so hard. Just like this.”

How am I supposed to relax when he’s practically wrapped around me?

Your pulse quickened, your senses suddenly overwhelmed by how close he was. His cologne—woodsy and warm—filled your lungs, making you a little dizzy. You swallowed hard, focusing on anything but the way your back pressed against his chest. “Okay... relax. Right. Got it.”

“You’re not relaxing.” Bucky’s voice was low, almost teasing.

Yeah, no kidding. Not exactly easy when you smell like a lumberjack dream. 

“I am relaxed!” you shot back, though your heart was racing so fast you were sure he could hear it.

Bucky chuckled, and the soft rumble of his laugh vibrated against your back. “If you were relaxed, you wouldn’t be holding your breath.” 

If she’s holding her breath, I must be doing something right.

You blinked, realizing that yes, you were in fact holding your breath. You exhaled slowly, trying to focus on the targets instead of the fact that Bucky was basically wrapped around you.

“Good,” he said quietly, his hands still steadying yours. “Now, pull the trigger. Nice and easy.”

Yeah, this is totally normal. Just shooting targets, totally not thinking about how close we are.

You followed his lead, squeezing the trigger gently. The shot rang out, and the sound of a hit echoed through the machine. The target flipped backward, signaling a perfect hit.

“I did it!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over as you turned your head to look at him.

Your faces were just inches apart. Bucky’s eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with tension, the good kind—the kind that makes your heart race and your stomach flip.

God, she’s close. Just a little closer...

Your gaze flickered down to his lips, and Bucky swallowed hard, momentarily forgetting where you were or what you were doing. All he could think about was how easy it would be to lean in just a little more, to—

“Uh, sorry!” A kid nearby bumped into the machine, jolting you both out of the moment.

Of course. Great timing, kid.

You quickly stepped out of Bucky’s embrace, your face flushed. “Well, um... thanks for the lesson, Barnes.”

Bucky cleared his throat, his ears a little pink. “Yeah. Anytime.” Anytime? Seriously, Barnes? That’s all you’ve got?

You moved on to a few more games, but the tension between you still lingered, electric and unspoken. After a particularly intense game of air hockey (where you almost won, thanks to Bucky being a little too distracted by you), you found yourselves at the prize counter.

Your eyes scanned the shelves, but one prize in particular caught your attention: an absolutely massive goose plush sitting at the top of the prize display. It was ridiculous, almost comically large, but it made you smile instantly.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, pointing. “That goose is so cute.”

Bucky followed your gaze and raised an eyebrow. A goose? Really? She could pick anything, and it’s that giant bird?

“You like that thing?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I mean, look at it. It’s the size of a couch,” you said, laughing. “No one’s ever gonna win enough tickets for that.”

Bucky looked thoughtful for a second. Then, without saying a word, he handed all of your tickets to the guy at the counter. Challenge accepted, doll.

The kid behind the counter stared at him. “Uh, you know this isn’t enough for the goose, right?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, but... what’s it take to win that thing?”

Because clearly, winning giant plush birds is my new priority in life.

The kid blinked. “Like... a thousand tickets.”

Bucky smirked, then turned to you. “Wait here.”

“What are you doing?” You frowned, confused. 

Please don’t say you’re going to try and win a thousand tickets... oh my God, he’s going to try and win a thousand tickets.

Bucky said nothing and disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later, you saw him at one of those old-school, rigged basketball games. His face was calm, determined—like he was about to go to war.

One after the other, Bucky sank shot after shot, racking up points so fast that you had to rub your eyes to believe it. Within minutes, he had earned a mountain of tickets. He moved on to another game, this time skee-ball, and then to another. Every single game, he dominated, earning enough tickets to make the counter kid’s jaw drop when he returned with what looked like a roll of tickets big enough to use as a belt.

“Holy crap,” you muttered, watching as Bucky handed the tickets over, a satisfied smirk on his face. The kid counted them, eyes wide, then slowly reached for the giant goose plush.

The oversized goose was practically half Bucky’s height as he carried it back over to you, grinning.

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to you with a proud look. “You said you liked it, right?”

Who just... casually wins a giant goose plush? How did he do that?

You stared at the giant, fluffy creature, then at him, your heart flipping over itself. “Bucky... this is insane. It’s huge.”

“Well, I couldn’t just leave without winning you something.” He shrugged, his grin boyish and a little shy. Yeah, Barnes, act like you’re not insanely proud of yourself right now. 

He’s... adorable. Stop. Focus. “You really didn’t have to... but I love it.” You laughed, hugging the goose to your chest. 

“Good.” Bucky’s eyes softened as he watched you smile. Worth every single ticket.

Your heart raced, your face heating up as you looked at him over the massive plush. “You’re full of surprises, Barnes. Who knew you’d be this good at arcades?”

Just trying to impress the girl, no big deal.

“Maybe I just wanted to impress you.” He smiled, a little more reserved this time.

Well, mission accomplished, buddy. You blushed, the air between you crackling again with that familiar tension. “Well, mission accomplished.”

You stood there for a moment, just smiling at each other, the absurdly large goose between you, until you laughed and nudged him with your elbow.

“You know, this might be the best date I’ve ever been on,” you said, your tone light but sincere. Was that too much? Did I just over-share?

Bucky’s smile grew, his eyes softening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, holding the goose a little tighter. “Definitely the best.” Okay, that was smooth. Not awkward at all.

You left the arcade with the giant goose plush between you, its goofy face almost mocking the awkwardness that had suddenly crept back into your steps. Bucky walked beside you, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, trying to figure out what to say.

Do I say something? Or just... keep walking?

The sounds of the city filled the silence around you, but neither of you spoke. The playful energy from the arcade had faded into something quieter, more uncertain.

Why am I so bad at this? Just say something, Barnes.

After a long stretch of quiet, Bucky cleared his throat. “So... is this the end?” Smooth, real smooth.

You blinked and glanced over at him, trying to keep your heart from doing a flip at his words. “Well, that’s all I had planned. Why?”

Bucky hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly as he looked ahead, his mind clearly weighing something. Okay, don’t screw this up. Don’t sound too eager.

For a moment, you thought maybe he was going to say goodbye, that maybe this was the end of your date after all. But then, he spoke quietly, almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it.

“I kind of don’t want to go home yet.” Well, there it is. Now she knows.

You felt a flutter in your chest, your face heating up as a small, shy smile tugged at your lips. You ducked your head, looking down at the sidewalk to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. The way he said it—so simple but sincere—made your heart skip.

Why does that sound so much cuter than it should? You bit your lip, an idea suddenly coming to you.

“Well...” you started, glancing up at him. “There’s a new building by the riverside with a sky deck. It just opened recently, and it’s supposed to have the best view of the city.”

“Sky deck, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, intrigued. A sky deck? Yeah, that sounds better than awkwardly walking home.

You nodded, a little more excited now. “Yeah. It’s pretty high up, and overlooks the whole city. I haven’t been yet, but I heard it’s amazing at night.”

“Sounds better than going home.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a soft smile. Thank God. I’m not ready for this to be over yet.

“Then let’s go.” You grinned, feeling your heart race just a little faster. 

You shared a quick, almost nervous glance at each other before walking in the direction of the riverside. The awkwardness wasn’t completely gone, but now, it was laced with anticipation, a kind of giddy energy that made your stomach flutter. You hugged the plush goose a little tighter, trying not to let your excitement show too much, but inside, you were buzzing.

× × × × 

The city lights shimmered below you as you lounged on the comfy chairs, drinks in hand. The night air was cool, but it didn’t come close to breaking the warmth buzzing between you and Bucky.

She’s... something else, Bucky thought, leaning back slightly. His gaze kept shifting between the breathtaking skyline and you, but he found himself more captivated by you. How am I supposed to focus on the view when she looks like that?

Noticing the quiet, you smirked. “So, you were really gonna end the night without showing off more of your endless talents?”

Oh, she’s teasing now. Alright, two can play this game. Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “What, beating you at arcade games wasn’t enough?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re a walking cheat code, Bucky. But I feel like there’s more you’re holding back.”

His eyes flickered over your face, lingering on your lips for just a little too long. More than you know, doll. “Maybe I am.”

Your breath caught for a second, but you quickly recovered, tilting your head and flashing him a grin. “Oh yeah? Like what? Some secret talent I should know about?”

Keep your cool, Barnes. Don't blow it now.

Bucky leaned in just a fraction, his voice lowering, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. But I only show them to people who ask nicely.”

God, does he have to sound that smooth? Your heart flipped at the way he was looking at you, intense, as if he was seeing through every joke and teasing comment. How am I supposed to keep this casual?

“Nicely, huh? And what do I have to do for you to show me?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the playful banter fading into something more charged.

“Keep hanging around,” he said softly.

I’m in deep now. Bucky's eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. Should I kiss her? Maybe I’m reading this wrong...

His eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. It was just him—his voice, his presence, the way he was looking at you like he wanted to kiss you but was holding back.

You swallowed, feeling the tension build like a slow fire. You sipped your drink, trying to cool yourself down, but it did little to shake the feeling that something between you had shifted. Stop overthinking, just go with it.

“I could do that,” you murmured, a small smile playing on your lips. You felt his eyes on you, and the air between you felt electric. You glanced at him, catching him staring at your lips again. Your pulse jumped. He’s really staring... isn’t he?

“You’re staring,” you said, teasing, though your voice had a soft edge to it, your heart thudding in your chest.

Bucky blinked, caught, but instead of pulling away, he smirked. “Am I?”

Yeah, Bucky, play it cool. Like you haven’t been staring for the past five minutes.

“Mhm,” you teased, though your voice was barely steady. Why does that smirk make my heart race? “I mean, I get it. The view’s great and all.”

Bucky’s smirk deepened, his voice dropping lower. “You could say that.”

I can’t believe this is actually happening. You felt your face heat up at the way he was looking at you. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach do wild flips. Why is this so... intense?

“You’re not just talking about the city, are you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, sending shivers down your spine. Just kiss her already. “Maybe not.”

Your breath hitched. “And what are you looking at?”

He leaned in slightly, his gaze locked on yours. “What do you think?”

She knows exactly what I’m looking at. 

Your heart raced, the pull between you growing stronger with every passing second. His eyes kept flicking down to your lips, making you wonder if he was going to kiss you. I really shouldn’t wait any longer...

Bucky cleared his throat suddenly, as if shaking off the trance he’d been in, and leaned back into his seat, looking almost embarrassed. Okay, maybe I’m rushing this.

“Sorry... I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” you interrupted quickly, your voice softer, gentler now. God, why did he stop? “Don’t be. I didn’t mind.”

His gaze snapped back to yours, the tension flaring again. She didn’t mind? Well, maybe I didn’t screw up, after all—or I did because you didn’t kiss her you idiot. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, a soft smile tugged at his lips, and his expression softened.

“So... orthopedic ward, huh?” he said, shifting the conversation, though his eyes were still locked on you. “How do you handle that? All those broken bones?”

Smooth, Barnes. Talk about bones to distract yourself from the fact you were just about to kiss her.

You took a deep breath, relieved for the break in intensity but missing it instantly. Great, now I’m thinking about how close he was... “Well, it’s mostly convincing people not to do dumb things. Like skateboarding down staircases. You wouldn’t believe what people put themselves through.”

Bucky chuckled. Yeah, I believe it. Considering I’ve done dumber things in my time. “I can believe it. I’ve been there.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve skateboarded down staircases?”

“No, but I’ve done some pretty stupid things in my time,” he admitted, leaning in again. Pretty sure falling for you might top the list. “But if I did something dumb, you’d patch me up, right?”

You smirked, your eyes twinkling. He’s flirting again. I can’t take this seriously. “Oh, I’d patch you up. But I’d make sure to remind you how dumb you were the entire time.”

“Fair,” Bucky said, the distance between you shrinking again. Patch me up, lecture me—just keep talking, I don’t care. “But I think I’d be a good patient.”

You shook your head with a grin. Good patient? Doubtful. “I doubt that. You’d probably complain the whole time.”

“I wouldn’t,” he replied, his tone teasing but soft. I’d let her take care of me, no problem. “If you were the one taking care of me, I’d be on my best behavior.”

He’s definitely not just talking about broken bones... Your heart skipped at the way he was looking at you again, his voice dropping to something more intimate. The banter was light, but underneath it all, there was that same intensity. Okay, now I’m thinking about kissing him again...

“You don’t strike me as someone who’s ever on their best behavior,” you teased softly, though your breath caught in your throat.

Bucky smirked, his eyes flicking to your lips again. “Maybe you bring it out in me.”

God, I hope so.

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning. Your pulse raced, and you leaned into the moment, letting the tension simmer between you, unspoken but undeniable. He’s close again…

“I’ll have to see that for myself,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat.

She’s close, too. Just lean in, Barnes. Bucky’s gaze darkened, his voice low and rough. “You just might.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as the tension between you crackled, thick and electric. You shifted slightly, leaning in with a playful smirk. “So... tell me, you got any other dates lined up after this one?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered with amusement as he leaned back, crossing his arms. Dates? I can barely keep up with this one. “Why? You worried I’ve got someone else lined up?”

You grinned, holding his gaze. “Maybe. Should I be?”

Not a chance. He leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking as his voice dropped lower. “I don’t know... do you have any other dates lined up?”

He’s really turning this on me, huh? You blinked, your heart racing, but you quickly shot back, “Well, maybe... maybe not. Depends on how this one ends.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his eyes dropping to your lips again, the intensity rising. Alright, Barnes, time to end this date right. “Guess I better make sure it ends right, then.”

Before you could respond, Bucky reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing tenderly against your cheek as he leaned in, your lips so close you could feel his breath.

Your heart was pounding, your breath shallow, as his parted lips brushed against yours, soft and slow, his head tilting just slightly. The kiss was gentle at first, his lips locking against yours in a way that made everything around you fade to nothing. He could taste the faint sweetness of your daiquiri on your lips, and with a soft groan, his tongue did a slow, savoring lick against your bottom lip before slipping past, deepening the kiss.

Your hands instinctively moved up, cupping his face as you kissed him back, your fingers sliding along the scruff of his jaw. The warmth of his touch, the way his thumb stroked your cheek, the way his lips moved against yours —everything about it was intoxicating, pulling you under.

Then Bucky pulled back for a quick gasp, his breath mingling with yours , before diving back in, capturing your lips with even more intensity. The kiss deepened, more urgent this time, as though neither of you wanted the moment to end. His hand on your nape tightened slightly, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified, his lips pressing more firmly against yours.

They didn’t stop until they couldn’t breathe anymore, finally pulling apart when the need for air overtook you, both of you breathless and flushed. Their foreheads rested together, the cool night air doing little to cool the heat between you. Bucky’s thumb gently stroked your cheek as he whispered, his voice rough, “Definitely no other dates lined up after this.”

You smiled, your hands still cradling his face, your heart pounding. “Good. Neither do I.”

× × × ×

As Bucky’s motorcycle came to a slow stop outside your house, and glanced up at your front porch. You hopped off the bike, shaking out your hair with a satisfied grin.

That ride was way too short... you thought, glancing at him as you handed Bucky his helmet, which he stubbornly told you to wear instead of him.

Bucky, being the gentleman, didn’t just let you off with a wave. He slid off the bike and stood up straight, dusting his hands like he was about to help carry your groceries.

Alright, Barnes. Play it cool.

"I’ll walk you up," he said casually, like it wasn’t 2024 and people usually just waved from their cars.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking into a smirk. "You’re walking me to my porch?"

Bucky nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She thinks it’s weird? Hell, I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do.

“Of course. What kind of guy lets a lady walk to her door alone?” he replied, shrugging like this was completely normal.

You tried not to laugh, biting your lip to hold back a smile. He’s serious. Oh my God, he’s really serious. "Wow, okay, Mr. 1940s. What’s next, you gonna tip your hat and call me ‘ma’am’?"

Bucky smirked, taking a step closer. Alright, go with it, Barnes. “I could, if that’s what you’re into.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes but smiling as you walked together toward your porch. He’s ridiculous... and kinda sweet. You couldn’t help but notice how he slowed his pace just a little, like he was savoring the moment, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, casual yet somehow... considerate.

When you reached your porch, Bucky stopped, glancing at your door as if making sure it was safe territory. This is it. Play it smooth.

You turned to him, unable to hold back a laugh this time. "So, do I get a secret code to get into my own house, or...?"

Bucky grinned, leaning casually against the porch railing. “Just making sure you get home safe.”

Alright, Barnes, she’s not buying it. But hey, it worked.

“You know, they invented porch lights for a reason.” You shook your head, amused. He’s seriously acting like my personal bodyguard right now.

“What can I say? Old habits die hard.” Bucky shrugged, leaning in just a little closer, that playful glint in his eye. Please don’t laugh, please don’t laugh.

You looked up at him, crossing your arms with a smirk. “You know, there’s a fine line between being a gentleman and babysitting.”

Bucky chuckled. She’s killing me with that smirk. “Hey, you never know. There could be a rogue bagel out here, just waiting to trip you up.”

Oh, not the bagels again. “Oh my God, not the bagels again!” you burst out laughing, shaking your head.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “You know they’re round, right?”

This man is unbelievable. You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I think we’ve officially come full circle.”

“Just like a bagel.” Bucky gave a slow, dramatic nod.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, but you shook your head, standing on your porch with your hands on your hips. Why do I like this guy so much?

“Alright, alright, you’ve escorted me safely to my door. Anything else, or are you going to salute me goodbye?”

Bucky’s grin softened, and with a playful twinkle in his eye, he gave a small, mock salute. She’s gotta be messing with me right now, right? “Goodnight, ma’am.”

“Goodnight, soldier.” You couldn’t stop smiling as you opened your door, turning back to look at him. Don’t walk away, don’t walk away yet...

As you slipped inside, you peeked out one last time, watching as Bucky lingered for a second, that charming smirk still on his face before he finally turned and headed back to his bike. Say something, Barnes. Don’t just leave like a dork.

But then he stopped, halfway to his bike, and turned back around, something flickering in his eyes.

No, I’m not leaving yet. Not without...

Before you could ask what he was doing, Bucky closed the distance between you with a few long strides. Without hesitating, he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leaned in and kissed you—soft, quick, but just enough to make your heart race. His lips parted against yours, and for a split second, you tasted the warmth of him before he pulled back, just enough to meet your eyes.

That... was... wow.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart doing a somersault. Did that just happen? You were still processing when Bucky grinned, his voice a little more hushed. “I guess I couldn’t leave without a proper goodbye.”

Smooth, Barnes. Real smooth.

You blinked, trying to find your voice, but all that came out was a soft, “No complaints here.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his hand still lingering at your neck for a moment longer. Then, he cleared his throat, stepping back a bit. “Hey, uh... you got a number I could call sometime?”

He’s asking for my number after that?

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter as you reached into your pocket, grabbing your phone. “Yeah, here—let me put it in.”

As you typed in your number, Bucky watched you, that familiar twinkle back in his eyes. Best decision I’ve made all night.

When you handed his phone back, your fingers brushed his, sending a small jolt up your arm. Yep, I’m done for.

Bucky pocketed the phone, flashing that boyish grin again. “Alright. I’ll call you.”

Yeah, you better. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He took a slow step down from the porch, but not without glancing over his shoulder one more time. “Goodnight... again.”

You stood there, grinning like an idiot. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

As Bucky made his way back to his bike, you slipped inside your house, leaning against the door as your heart raced. Did he really just kiss me? Again? Oh, this is definitely not over.

You peeked out one last time through the crack in the door, watching him as he swung his leg over his bike. Even from your doorway, you could hear him muttering with a smirk, “Just trying to keep the rogue bagels at bay.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you finally closed the door behind you, your heart racing a little more than you expected. I’m never going to forget this night...

[honestlyreadingruinedmylife]

That’s amazing. Of course everyone needs to start somewhere. Of course I understand not everyone likes writing smut.

Young Charles Xavier x reader. She’s also has a mutation. She’s kicked out by her parents when they find out that her boyfriend is in a wheelchair. She turns up in the pouring rain with her puppy under her jacket to keep them dry and a black eye because her dad hit her (you don’t have to write that just imply it)

Hope that’s not to detailed but wanted to give you as much detail as I could to help you write it.

Can you please tag me in any future X-Men fanfiction you write.

Xx

A.N: Okay, I finally got around to finishing this. I'm actually quite proud of it given it's my first time EVER writing fanfiction and especially with it being a request. I hope you enjoy it even though it is a bit cliche at times. Also, there is slight ableism given the prompt, I did some research to make sure I wasn't using any slurs but if I am wrong PLEASE let me know. I will change it.

Word Count: 1251

Pairing: Young Charles Xavier x Female!Reader

Warnings: Ableism (Only a small sentence), gets kind angsty

You didn’t really know how they had found out. You were so careful. Building a wall of lies so thick and so far that you could no longer see the ends. 

You suppose that somewhere along the lines you’d missed a spot, one vital brick that tumbled down the entirety of your life. 

Your parents had only just started getting around to the idea of having a ‘freak’ of a daughter. Constantly telling you how lucky you were to at least look ‘normal’ and not like those ‘other ones’. 

You were one of the good ones. 

They had laid the rules out simply. They didn’t care about your abilities as long as they stayed outside the house and as long as you married a ‘regular human being’. It seemed simple enough and studying for a masters (which they paid for) you figured one more year of hiding wouldn’t be so difficult.

What you never considered was falling madly in love with another mutant. You’d been convinced for so long that you were completely alone in the walls you’d built, that when you met a man who could literally tear them apart you had no choice but to let yourself go.

The argument had started at dinner. It’d been a long day of research which had resulted in nothing but a dead end. Exhausted from sitting reading at a desk all day, you just wanted to get through the traditional family dinner and get straight into bed.

You were sitting in your usual chair, facing your mother while your father sat at the head of the table. It’d been eerily silent from the moment you’d sat down but didn’t mind given your exhaustion.

Suddenly, your father put down his utensils, “I’ve set up a dinner, next week with the neighbors boy,”

Thinking you hadn’t heard correctly, you turn to face him, “pardon?”

“It’s about time that you start thinking of settling down,” your father continues, “most normal girls your age are on their way to having their first child,”

You hear the implication in his voice even if he hadn’t outright said it. Irritated, you push your plate away.

“I am a normal girl, dad,” 

You hear your mother sigh, but you can’t seem to look away from your fathers face that twitches in irritation.

“You know what I meant,” he says your name as if it's a burden. He says it as if you were a curse on his normalcy.

You roll your eyes, “yes I know exactly what you meant, father, and I’m not going to be dressed up like some doll to be paraded for the neighbors boy,”

Another twitch, you know you are pushing him too far, but you can’t seem to care anymore.

“He is of good breeding and a wealthy background,” he picks up his utensils again, “the dinner will be on Monday,”

“Breeding?! I’m not cattle, father,” 

Your fathers face contorts into a scowl and you know he’s losing patience with you, “He will assure you are the last of your kind in my bloodline,”

You can feel your whole body shaking, “I will not go to that dinner, father,”

You hear your mother whisper your name, you suddenly realize that the shaking wasn’t just within your body but the whole house. With your emotions rampant you couldn’t control your powers as naturally as you normally could.

Breathing in and breathing out, you calm yourself enough to stop the shaking. Your father, however, is maroon with malice. You have pushed him too far.

“I will not let my grandchildren be the offspring of a freak and a paralytic!”

You feel your heart stop. Your mind is racing, unstoppable thoughts wreak havoc in your head. He knew. He knew and now your life is over.

“Father-”

“You thought I wouldn’t find out?” Your father continues to yell, “you thought I’d let you disobey me without consequence?”

You could feel your breathing increase as you enter a panic. Everything is muffled, your father continues yelling but you can’t hear a thing he is saying. You have to get away. You have to get to Charles. 

Without realizing, you stand, turning to leave the table, trying to find an escape. With one step, your father is in front of you, rough hands clamping down on your shoulders, forcing you still.

“Let me go,” you whisper, looking down away from your father. 

“I forbid you from seeing that man again!” 

“Let me go,” you feel the ground tremble beneath you.

“He’s one of you isn’t he?” Your fathers grip tightens on your shoulders, “he’s a freak!”

“Let me go!” You shout back in his face. You don’t initially feel the strike, but you can feel the heat begin to blossom around your eye. And you feel the ground erupt into endless shudders as you watch your father lose his balance and fall to the floor.

With the last of your strength, you run towards your room grabbing your research and your puppy that likes to sleep under your bed. As you race to the front door, you glance at your mother fussing over your father, who is still laid on the floor.

Stopping you turn to face your parents, “I am not a freak. Just because I am different doesn’t mean I’m lesser than,”

You turn to open the front door and with foot out your childhood home, you turn one last time, “I’ll never treat my children the way you’ve treated me, mutant or not,”

With those final words, you run into the rain, hailing the first taxi you see.

It wasn’t until you were at Charles’ front door, drenched and with your puppy under your coat, that you realized how bleak your situation truly was. 

No home, no parents, no education. 

With nothing left to lose, you knock as loudly as you can, hoping anyone would hear you over the pounding rain.

Almost immediately, the door swings open. 

Hank at first looks at you with confusion and then concern. He drags you inside and in the same breath yells for Charles.

The second you see Charles look of concern as he approaches you, you feel the tears start to form in your eyes. Finally able to let go, you feel yourself crumble with the weight of the night.

In no time, Charles holds you in his arms, stroking your soaked hair, whispering into your ear, “it’s okay darling you’re safe now, you’re safe here,”

Once you’ve calmed down, you pull away from him holding your own weight again. His hands don’t leave your face, careful with your already bruising eye.

He whispers your name. He whispers it like prayer, like there’s no one else in the world except you and him. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, “How about we run you a warm bath?”

With no strength left to speak and knowing you didn’t need to, you nod into his hands, closing your eyes and soaking in the comforting warmth he exudes. From within your jacket, you feel your puppy shuffle, stuck in between your torso and Charles’ legs. Pulling away slightly, your puppy leaps away from you and begins sniffing around Charles’ wheelchair.

“I see you’ve brought a friend, darling,” he chuckles, as he watches your puppy continuing to adventure.

You hiccup trying to find the words, “I couldn’t leave him in that house,”

Charles looks back at you, his blue eyes wide with adoration, “he has a home here, he’ll always a home here,”

[withwritersblock]

When He Sees Me

~When He Sees Me from the Waitress soundtrack but the Sara Bareilles cover~

Author's Note: AH yes, very specific song choice but covers sometimes hit better than the actual version of the song. That's my hot take for the day. Summary: Y/N is set up on a blind date Word Count: 1,267 Warnings: embarrassment? Cole Caufield x fm!reader

She never thought she would agree to this. Her friend, Penny, had this amazing idea, her words, to set Y/N up on a blind date. As if she would ever be comfortable enough to deal with the concept of randomly meeting up with a stranger.

After her breakup with her boyfriend, several months back, her friends have been dyign for her to get back out there. Seek out someone. She spent the last four years of her life in Montreal.

The city was always her favorite place to visit as a kid. Her father lived in Quebec for the majority of his young life. After he met her mother, he moved to Ottawa with her. That’s where Y/N grew up, but she spent a lot of her childhood visiting her grandparents in Montreal as it was only a couple hours away. 

Now, she lives there permanently with her friends she met at university there. She has a great job but according to her friends; she has a social life that is failing miserably.

Which is why she is going on a blind date with someone who she only knows his first name.

Cole.

Cole could be rude to the baristas. 

Cole could talk too fast. 

Cole could ask personal questions that are way too personal for a first date. 

What if he calls the barista by their first name?

There were so many different principles that could make this date go bad. She sat in her car staring into her reflection of her rear view mirror. Is this too much makeup? What if it’s not enough? Her fingers coursed through her hair, adjusting it to be perfect. But what if it was just perfect and now she just ruined it.

She took a deep breath as she stared at the time on her clock. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes until it’s socially acceptable to be early. 

She took another deep breath as she glanced at the text from Cole saying which coffee shop would be perfect. It was a small cafe that she had gone to many times before. She studied there as well as got all of her work done there as well. They know her. She drops her forehead against the steering wheel as her eyes shut. 

The music in the background was comforting for so long until it wasn’t drowning out the nerves rising in her throat.

What if he’s perfect? 

What if he’s so perfect she can’t hide how she feels? 

What if he’s genuine and kind?

What if he wants to go out again?

She lifted her head from her steering wheel and decided it was the perfect amount of time to leave her car. She took a hold of her small purse and dropped her keys inside of it. She took another shaky breath as she slowly stepped out of her car, shutting the door locking it multiple times before she decided to walk towards the cafe shop. 

She ran her hands across the top of her jeans as she walked across the empty street. Her gaze staring towards the window. She squints her eyes slightly at the man sitting beside the window. He was familiar in a way that felt wrong. She continued onto the sidewalk and got closer to the window to see Montreal Canadiens player Cole Caufield sitting in the chair. 

Cole. 

This is a coincidence. Cole is a popular name. Her blind date wouldn’t be the Habs player who her Montreal native father never shuts up about. Of course not. Her eyes continue looking towards him, she watches his head tilt upward. 

Her eyes widened as she quickly hid behind the brick wall beside the coffee shop. Her heart was racing. He saw her, there’s no way. She clenches her jaw as she pulls her phone from her back pocket.

She began dialing Penny, she pulled the phone towards her ear. It only rang twice before Penny picked up. “Cole? It’s not Cole Caufield right? Because the fact that I even think it could be is crazy? Right?” 

Penny giggles, “If I told you that it was-”

“How do you even know him?!” she whispered harshly.

“My sister is dating his teammate, you know this,” she said laughing.

Y/N stared blankly at the concrete as her brain wrapped around the fact that Cole Caufield was waiting for her in the cafe. He probably saw her run away from him and hide, not the greatest first impression.

“He knows what you look like, he probably saw you run and hide. You ran and hid, right?” she asked teasingly. Y/N rolled her eyes as she took a deep breath. “Just go in and sit down. If you hate it, you can leave,” Penny said, hanging up the phone. 

Y/N held the phone beside her ear for a few beats before she slowly dropped her phone from her ear and shakenly put it into her back pocket. She took a deep breath as she adjusted her top before she began walking towards the coffee shop again.

She looked towards the window where Cole was sitting, a smile planted on his face. He followed her movements into the coffee shop, her cheeks heating up as she clenched her jaw. She swung the door open and a small chim rang as she stepped inside. Her gaze turned towards Cole, he was already standing up to meet her in the middle.

“Y/N?” he asked, still smiling widely. She nodded. “Penny, didn’t tell you it was me did she?” he asked as he pointed towards the long line for coffee. 

“How’d you know?” she asked, chuckling. 

“I kinda saw you run when you saw me,” he said, fighting off the smile on his lips. Her mouth fell open as her eyes shut. 

“I think I may just go, that was-” she said sarcastically as she pointed behind her. He rolled his eyes playfully.

“No, no it was cute,” he mumbled before they shuffled slightly forward in line. She smiled softly as she dropped her gaze. 

They were silent for a moment, just taking in each other's presence. It wasn’t as awkward as Y/N pictured it would be. “Why’d you agree to this blind date, which was apparently only blind to me,” she said, chuckling nervously. 

He smiled before tilting his head back. “Guhle and Penny were getting on me about how “lonely” I’ve been since my last relationship ended. They told me that Penny has this gorgeous friend who is allegedly going through the same thing,” he explained, his face tilting back and forth as he air quotes around “lonely”. She nodded as a reply.

“I don’t usually go on dates with strangers,” she mumbled as they shuffled towards the counter, they were next in line.

“Me neither, it’s hard,” he mumbles, meeting her gaze. He smiles again. She returns it. 

“Why do you keep smiling?” she asked, teasingly. She wants him to continue, it was intoxicating. It was becoming hard to breathe.

“You’re hard not to smile around,” he muttered, his cheeks flushing red, “That was cheesy, wow. Maybe Guhls is right, I'm way out of practice,” he expressed. She giggled as they stepped up to the counter.

“My two favorite regulars, together? I’d never thought I’d see the day,” Justin, the barista said as the pair reached the counter. “Y/N, you want that lavender latte? Cole, the americano?” he asked, pointing between them. Their eyes widened as they looked toward one another, slowly nodding. Cole handed him his card before Y/N could fully react.

[steddieasitgoes]

written for @eddiemonth Day 16 Prompt: Library & Curious a/n: This one might be my favorite one I've written yet! It's set at the start of season 2! read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Edde Month series

Eddie’s well aware there are a lot of stupid classes that Hawkins High requires its student body to take. Algebra (there’s no reason for the alphabet and numbers to mix, except in very rare cases, like D20 type cases), Physics (what more do they need to know beyond what goes up, must come down), French (as if anyone from Bumfuck, Indiana could afford to go to France — okay maybe some can, but Eddie’s certainly not one of them that’s for damn sure), goddamn Physical Education (only way he’s running is if someone is chasing him, thank you very much). But the stupidest class of all has to be Study Hall.

An entire class dedicated to doing work for other classes? What kind of idiot dreamed this one up? Instead of letting them out an hour early, some guy, probably in a suit because all bad ideas come from guys in suits, decided to hold them hostage to do more work. It’s ridiculous. Not to mention, it’s one of the few times, outside of lunch, that the grades get to mingle with each other. Sure, lots of studying goes on in between freshmen drooling over seniors and sophomores paying juniors for last year’s test answers.

The only time Eddie actually liked study hall was during his sophomore year when he had it first period and could do all the homework he neglected to do the night before. It’s the only time it actually made sense. And the only time, thus far in his high school career, that Eddie actually turned in more assignments than not.

But now, he’s a senior stuck with study hall as his last class of the day, and he wants to die. Okay, maybe not die die. But die in the sense that he’d rather risk bodily harm escaping the hellscape that is the Hawkins library during 6th-period study hall than sit here. His freedom is so close — nothing but a few windows and a brick wall separating him from the brisk late-October air. Eddie can’t risk it, though. He’s already reached his detention quote for the semester, and if he wants to keep using the drama room for Hellfire meetings, he has to sit in this damn library seat and at least pretend to get some work done.

Which, honestly, isn’t the worst thing in the world. At least it gives him time to work on his latest Hellfire campaign without the prying eyes of Jeff and Gareth or the unnecessary questions from Freak. Sure, he’s supposed to be working on an essay for English Lit, but he doesn’t think Ms. Washington is going to appreciate his take on Frankenstein, so he’ll worry about coming up with a dumbed-down idea another day.

Besides, even focusing on his new campaign is hard enough with the idle chatter going on that the librarian is either pretending not to hear or is too tired of shushing them for.

It’s the usual sort of study hall gossip. Who’s screwing who. What teacher is going to pull a pop quiz tomorrow and become the biggest asshole at Hawkins High. The occasional nervous whispers of the geeks actually studying.

It’s all mindless chatter that drifts into the background when the topic of Tina’s Halloween Bash comes up. That’s the real gossip of the night. Who got the keg, and what other alcohol is being provided? Who is going to be the best dressed? What couple is going to get caught screwing in Tina’s parent’s bed? Are there going to be any good fights or breakups?

Eddie rolls his eyes. Jesus H. Christ, can’t anybody be original around here?

Unfortunately for Eddie, there’s no escaping Tina’s Halloween Bash since he’s been summoned to provide some extra party favors, as the “cool” kids like to call them. Eddie, never one to back down from being a thorn in a “cool” kid’s side, always responds with the same spiel: “Drugs. What you want is drugs, right? Or should I go raid Melvald’s for you?”

Whatever. Money is money, and Eddie can take all the money he can get his grubby hands on if he wants to get out of this shit-hole town when he graduates in June.

Glancing at his watch, he tips his head back in a silent groan of annoyance. Only ten minutes have passed since he slunk into the uncomfortable library seat. Christ, why does time move so slow, sometimes? Eddie tries to focus on his Hellfire notes in front of him, and he’s successful for all of thirty seconds before something catches his attention in the corner of his eye.

Nancy Wheeler and the former Hawkins High King, Steve Harrington, are whispering to each other by the pencil sharpener. He rolls his eyes. Of course, no one else in the library is paying them any mind. And why would they? Harrington fell from grace last year, and Wheeler isn’t exactly the “look at me” type. Still, Eddie finds them morbidly interesting in a way he finds all the tragic heterosexual couples in this stupid small town interesting.

Before Eddie has a chance to fall deeper into his cynical outlook on this stupid Hawkins High couple, Wheeler starts tugging Harrington toward the private study room in the back of the library. It’s a move that shocks Eddie to his core. Don’t get him wrong, he’s heard all bout Harrington’s little trysts in that very room over the years (thank you gossip mill for the very cheap porn), but he never would have assumed Wheeler would be the one tugging him toward it.

It’s that detour from who she’s supposed to be that has Eddie peeling himself off his chair.  At least, that’s what he tells himself as he saunters toward the stack of books in the back of the library closest to the private room. If he hears moaning or anything remotely sounding like they’re hooking up, he promises himself he’ll leave. He’s a freak in many ways, but a creep, he is not.

Glancing over his shoulder, Eddie can see the two of them in the small room. They’re close but not close enough to be doing anything beyond talking. From the look on her face, doing anything of that sort isn’t even on her mind.

Interesting.

Eddie creeps closer.

“Barbara. It’s like nobody cares. Except her parents. And now they’re selling their house.”

“Nance—“

Wheeler rants about something, but he misses most of it. Only catching the very end.

“It’s destroying them.”

No shit, Eddie thinks with another dramatic eye roll. Of course, losing their only daughter is destroying them. The Hollands are one of the few families around here that actually have a heart. At least they did before Barbara tore it from them by running away. Or so the story goes. Eddie’s always been a bit suspicious of Holland’s disappearance. He knows the runaway type, and a straight-A girl, with a well-off family who loves them like Holland had doesn’t fit the bill.

“I know. Okay? I get it,” Harrington says, glancing away from Wheeler to peer out the window. Eddie grabs the first book on the shelf and buries his face in it. It must fool Steve because he starts talking again. “But listen, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Yeah, we could tell them the truth.”

“This isn’t some game, Nance. If they found out that we told any…” He trails off again, and Eddie reaches for another book.

Eyes peering over the pages, Eddie watches as he shuts the blinds before presumably returning to Wheeler. With the blinds shut and their voices even lower, he can no longer hear what they’re talking about. Which is a damn shame because Eddie’s never been more curious about what the disgraced King was about to say than right now. 

+ + +

“M’telling you guys. It was weird,” Eddie says through a mouthful of Doritos.

They’re hanging out in Gareth’s garage. Jeff sits in the old recliner while Gareth stays perched behind his drum kit. Freak is running late, as usual, though Eddie’s not too pressed about it today. Too distracted filling the boys in on what he overheard in the library.

“I don’t know man; it sounds like she was just concerned about her best friend,” Gareth says, lightly tapping his drumsticks on his snare.

“Yeah, those two were inseparable, remember.”

“All the more reason why it’s weird she’s been mopping around lately. Obviously, she knows where Holland is. Or what happened to her.”

“Not this again,” Jeff groans, sinking further into the recliner.

“Yes, this again,” Eddie retorts, throwing Jeff an intense glare. “This town is weird as shit. If the Byers kid can come back from the dead—“

“I thought they proved it wasn’t actually Byers they found in the quarry,” The Freak says, finally joining them in the garage. 

“They did, but Eddie still thinks—“

“Shut up!” Eddie shouts, taking a moment to throw a Dorito at all of their heads. “Let me level with you for a second, okay? Yeah, sure, they said that kid wasn’t Byers, but they never said whose kid it was, which is weird. And then right after that, they “find” Holland’s car? It’s too coincidental, man. You know a story isn’t right when it’s too easy.”

“This isn’t one of our campaigns,” Gareth sighs. “Sometimes things really are just accidental coincidences.”

Eddie shakes his head, running his Dorito-stained fingers over his face. “Nah, man, m’not buying it this time. Harrington and Wheeler know what really happened to Holland. And I think they’re responsible for it.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees. “You think they made her disappear or something.”

“Maybe Harrington got Holland knocked up, and his family gave her money to leave.”

“See!” Eddie shouts, slapping his hands together as he jumps on the balls of his feet. “Freak gets it! That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

“Okay, but if Harrington knocked Wheeler’s best friend up, why would she still be dating him?” Jeff asks.

“And why would they both be hiding her from her parents?” Gareth adds.

Okay, so maybe these are valid questions, but Eddie doesn’t appreciate the doubts they’re throwing at him. “I don’t appreciate you doubting me,” he says plainly. “You’ll see. M’gonna figure this out.”

“Right, just like you figured out that Ms. O’Donnell was actually failing you for a reason and not because she had some vendetta against Wayne for not dating her.”

“Hey. That was a good theory, okay. One I still think is true, by the way.” Turning his back on the boys, Eddie crosses the room and tosses the empty bag of Doritos into the trash bin before heading towards his badly parked van.

“I thought we were practicing!” Gareth shouts after him.

“Just let him go,” Jeff sighs. “He’s impossible to work with when he’s in conspiracy theory mode.”

Eddie flips Jeff off, climbing into the van. “I’ll see you boys tomorrow.”

+ + +

Eddie’s been at Tina’s party for an entire hour and a half, and there’s still no sign of Harrington or Wheeler. Not that he’s actively searching them out, of course. He’s just had some downtime in between upselling Hagan for the world’s shittiest pot he could get his hands on, and explaining to some cheerleader how Special K hits differently if you snort it. Plus, his supply ran out about ten minutes ago, so he’s just buying time before someone notices him lingering and kicks his ass to the curb.

He’s about to save himself and whatever jock gets thrown his way the trouble, when he spots Harrington and Wheeler arguing by the punch bowl. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but he has a sneaking suspicion it has less to do with the conversation he heard in the library and more to do with Wheeler’s drunken state. Case in point: the red liquid she just spilled all over her blouse.

Chasing after her, Harrington cuts through the crowd and makes his way toward one of the bathrooms. Eddie waits a minute before following them down the crowded hallway. Thankfully, no one is in line for this bathroom — still too early in the night for the alcohol to have hit their bladders — so he’s first in the unofficial bathroom line. Leaning casually against the wall, Eddie angles his ear closer to the door so he can hear inside.

It takes a minute for his ears to tune out the music and nonsense chatter, but when they do, he can clearly hear Wheeler slurring her words.

“You’re pretending like everything’s okay. You know, like we didn’t… like we didn’t kill Barb.”

Eddie’s never experienced shock before, at least, he doesn’t think he has; the early days of his life are a little hazy around the edges, but that’s the only word he thinks fits what he’s experiencing right now. Part of him wants to shove his ear closer to the door to continue listing, while the other part of him wants to run for the hills, screaming in victory. And if he’s straight with himself, maybe screaming in fear a little, too. Harrington and Wheeler murderers? Who knew?

He knew, that’s who!

He knew there was something shady going on between those two.

Pressing his ear closer, he can hear Wheeler slurring more words, though he’s not exactly sure what she’s saying. Honestly, he doesn’t really care what she’s saying. He’s listening for Harrington’s response right now. What does the mighty King have to say about the bomb she’s just dropped?

“This is bullshit,” she slurs.

“Like we’re in love?” Steve asks.

Huh, clearly, Eddie missed a step or two in his shocked state.  He’s not exactly sure how the conversation strayed from them killing Holland to their, clearly, toxic relationship, but the fact it did is all the proof Eddie needs. If they didn’t kill her, Harrington would have been vehemently denying her claim. And yet, he sounds like a kicked puppy dog right now because she doesn’t love him.

Join the club, Harrington.

The doorknob starts to jiggle, and Eddie bolts. It’s not that he’s afraid about coming face-to-face with the two who apparently killed Holland. It’s just that, well, he needs a minute to think about the information he’s just learned.

+ + +

With Gareth and Freak both busy supervising their siblings around Hawkins and Jeff on candy duty for his family’s house, Eddie has no one to share the good bad news with. RIP Holland and all that, but he’s sitting on some serious dirt right now.

The good part of Eddie’s brain knows he should head straight for the police station. Pull good ole’ Chief Hopper aside and gloat about how he did his job for him. But Eddie’s spent enough time at the stuffy station to know no one is going to believe him especially not against Harrington and Wheeler. He’d have better luck marching in there and turning himself in for her murder. Not that he’s going to do that.

He supposes he could tell Wayne about it, but he doesn’t need to be dragging his uncle into any more of his messes. And since Eddie has no proof beyond overhearing a drunken confession, a mess it’ll surely turn into.

So, he opts for the third option and heads out to Skull Rock to do some thinking.

Maybe Freak is right, and it was some sort of jealous rage brought on by a Holland-Harrington pregnancy. Or maybe Holland saw something she shouldn’t have; the possibilities are endless, and Eddie’s imagination is limitless.

Eventually, he circles back to what he’s supposed to do with this information. Should he turn them in? Maybe not Wheeler; she seems like she’s experienced enough guilt as it and the girl has a bright future or whatever it is the teachers are always talking about. Harrington, though? Harrington, he should turn in, right? I mean, he didn’t even seem phased when Wheeler brought up the murder. Eddie’s watched enough horror movies to know that’s psychopath behavior right there. Besides, it would be nice to see the King behind bars. But then again, he hasn’t been the King in a while. And Harrington’s never really done anything to Eddie beyond standing idle while Hagan threw slurs at him. But he’s not hanging out with Hagan anymore, so maybe he should cut him some slack.

Though they did murder someone.

Jesus H. Christ.

Maybe this is why they say curiosity killed the cat — Eddie’s head is throbbing. He’s about to take another hit from his joint when he hears leaves crunching in the distance.

Shit.

Someone’s coming.

Snubbing out his joint against the rock, Eddie tries his best to make it seem like he’s just here, escaping the busy Halloween night. Which, like, he definitely is, but he can’t be too safe. Especially not when there are two teenage murderers on the loose.

“She thinks m’bullshit? She’s bullshit! Bullshit.”

The voice is unmistakable.

Jesus H. Christ could tonight get any weirder.

Eddie’s only escape is to run deeper into the forest, and he’s not about to do that so he makes himself comfortable on top of Skull Rock like a fucking sitting duck. Searching the pockets of his vest, he yanks out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Neither of which he was looking for. Of course, he left his pocket knife in his van. Stupid. So stupid!

There’s a moment of silence before Harrington emerges from the clearing. The moon is bright above them, making Steve’s tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes glow in the otherwise dark forest.

Maybe he is feeling guilty after all.

“Ah, fuck,” Harrington groans, stumbling to the ground.

Eddie watches as he rolls around for a moment, struggling to find his footing. If Eddie were a mean person, he might let Harrington suffer. But something about his behavior reminds him of a wounded animal, and Eddie’s always had a soft spot for bruised and broken things.

“Shit, Harrington, you okay?” Eddie asks, jumping down.

Eddie’s boots crunch against the leaves, startling Harrington. He manages to pull himself into a seated position and brandishes a near empty beer bottle in Eddie’s direction. “Stay back!”

“Woah, man,” Eddie yelps, hands raised in surrender in front of him. “Don’t kill me.”

“Oh, s’you,” Steve says, slumping against the tree behind him. He tosses the beer bottle aside and runs both his hands over his face. “Jesus. Why does everyone think I would kill s-someone?”

“Uh,” Eddie stutters, glancing around. Now’s his chance to make a break for it. Put those hours of physical education to good use and sprint to the van before Harrington has a chance to make him his next victim. But there’s something in Steve’s sad eyes and dejected voice that makes Eddie stay. “‘Cause you have killed someone before?”

“Man, what the hell are you talking about?” Harrington snaps, fumbling to get out of his jacket. “I’ve n-never killed anyone.”

“So, you didn’t kill Barbara Holland, then?”

“No! Jesus, ‘course not. Barb was… Barb was nice. She was good. Like Nance. Better than Nance, maybe. I don’t know,” Harrington whines, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Barb she’s… yeah, man, she’s dead. But I didn’t have anything to do with that. N-not in the way you think I did, at least.”

Harrington’s not making a lot of sense, which only spurs Eddie’s curiosity on more. Closing the distance between them, Eddie hops to a squat in front of him. “But you did have something to do with what happened to her?”

“Shit, man,” Harrington groans, words slurring more more. “S’complicated, okay. I can’t talk about it with you or her parents or anyone. Or else they’ll come for me or Nance or our families and then we’ll all be toast like Barb. And that… that thing that came out of the Byers’ wall.”

Complicated? Jesus H. Christ, Eddie’s never heard anything more complicated than the jumble of words that just left Harrington’s mouth. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, the realization that they’re alone in the woods talking about something someone doesn’t want Harrington talking about.

“What?” Eddie says more to himself than to Steve. “Harrington, what thing in the Byers wall? You’re not making any sense!”

“The thing. You know, the… the,” Steve hiccups. “The thing we can’t talk ‘bout, else they’ll come for us next.”

Someone will come for him and his family if he reveals what happened to Barb? And the thing in the Byers wall? He wants to ask who would come. What would happen? Is he being blackmailed? There are so many questions dancing on the tip of his tongue, but none of them win the war.

“Harrington, man,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “Are you in trouble? Do you, like, need help or something?”

Finally, freeing himself from his jacket, Harrington lifts his head and looks up. There’s a moment where Eddie’s life flashes before his eyes, but then the sad replay of his life is interrupted by Harrington’s hand on his cheek. A dopey-looking grin on his face as he squints up at Eddie.

“You have pretty eyes, M-m-munson. Anyone ever tell you that?” Steve slurs before promptly passing out against the tree.

What the hell has Eddie gotten himself into?

[hollow-prior]

3 Criminally Underrated Musicals (And why you should listen to them)

1) The Mad Ones

[Image Description: Kerrigan and Lowdermilk's The Mad Ones. It shows an empty road disappearing into the distance under a starry sky. Full ID in alt text. End ID.]

You know that feeling of driving fast down an empty road with the windows down, the wind whipping through your hair? You know that feeling of being able to do anything you want, like the world is right at your fingertips, just waiting for you? You know that feeling of sitting in the middle of the woods with a good friend and thinking about how incredible it is that you live on the same planet at the same time?

Well, this is that feeling.

The Mad Ones is about Sam, who just graduated high school, and her friend Kelly, who died in a car accident before she could graduate. It's about Sam's journey in remembering Kelly and learning to live in the moment without her. It's also about freedom, and expectations, and living life to its fullest.

Also it has the phrase "kidnapped by aliens with enormous genitalia". What's not to love?

Seriously, this is one of my all time favourites and it has a very special place in my heart. I love to listen to it on those rare days when everything seems to be falling into place and it feels like life is actually going somewhere.

From a writing perspective, this is just an incredible masterpiece. The lyrics just stir something in my soul and the friendship between Kelly and Sam is just <33333 (Heart). It deserves so much more love than it gets.

2) The Lightning Thief

[Image Description: The cover of The Lightning Thief: The Percy Jackson Musical. It shows a blue brick wall with a yellow glowing lightning bolt symbol against it. Full ID in alt text. End ID.]

Okay, so the books are iconic and the movies sucked and the TV show is looking good but everyone's been sleeping on the musical for far too long. I had my doubts at the beginning too, I'll admit it, but honestly this slaps.

Although it isn't an exact one-to-one with the books, the vibes are spot on which is the most important thing anyways.

Percy is a sarcastic little shit, Annabeth is a total smartass, and Grover is... well, the impossible-to-explain awesomeness that is Grover Underwood. As funny as it is, though, there are some moments that just hit you right in the feels. The Tree on the Hill, anyone? My Grand Plan?

Also the Luke reveal gives me literal chills every time. It's so SO well done, much better than any other depiction in my humble opinion.

The whole thing is just an excellent balance of feels and humour and has some truly iconic lines. Case in point:

Percy: "Grover, you're a good friend." Grover: "Awwww. Dude, I'm your only friend."

Mr. D: "Oh, you're alive. I suppose that's good news for you but it means a lot more paperwork for me, so don't expect me to be happy to see you. Of course, being alive is temporary..."

Luke: "The Hermes cabin takes anyone who hasn't been claimed. You know what that means... we're literally the reject cabin. Welcome to the dysfunctional family!"

[Literally just the entirety of Luke's part in Their Sign]

Grover: "You hurt his feelings. Tell the squirrel you're sorry." Percy: "I am not saying sorry to a squirrel." Annabeth: "He's very sorry. Tell the squirrel you're sorry, Percy."

Alright, anyways! This is the Percy Jackson website, right? It's great, just listen to it.

Moving on!

3) 35MM: A Musical Exhibition

[Image Description: The cover of 35MM: A Musical Exhibition. It's a red background with a black, ink-like camera design from above. Full ID in alt text. End ID.]

God, how do I even begin to explain 35MM?

There's so much going on here in the best way possible. It's not a traditional musical, at least not in the way people immediately think of musicals.

The idea behind 35MM is that there's multiple separate songs, each based on a photograph. That said, there are some theories about the level of connection between the songs and if they're even connected at all. Either way, it's absolutely incredible.

The songs all have different themes including babysitting a murder doll, a homicidal prom queen, a vampire love story, the young love car crash tragedy that lives in my heart forever, and many more! If you're a fan of the strange, unusual, and vaguely unsettling, this is the musical for you.

Although the fandom is small, it's incredibly dedicated and there are some truly wonderful animatics on YouTube to check out as well as some theory threads on Tumblr, Reddit, and basically anywhere else if you look hard enough.

I made the mistake of accidentally introducing my English professor to this musical so now you all can be introduced too!

And now some honourable mentions:

Islander

Islander is an acapella musical done entirely by two women. It tells the story of an island nation that was split in half long ago, with two girls (Each from one of the halves) meeting for the first time. It has a super cool Scottish folk song-style of music to it and just an incredible plot.

Jekyll & Hyde

Jekyll & Hyde is the musical adaptation of the famous gothic story. It's intense and dramatic in all the best ways and I Need to Know always sends shivers through me. The voices are incredible and it's just AHHH!! Wonderful! Also Confrontation is a work of art and nobody can tell me otherwise.

36 Questions

36 Questions is kind of unique in that it's a podcast musical, meaning that there's no stage performance. In the most basic terms, it's about two people trying to fix their marriage with the whole '36 questions to help strangers fall in love' type thing. Part of one of the songs, For the Record, was a popular song on TikTok a few years back so it may be somewhat familiar to folks. Either way, worth a listen!

[harlowsbby]

Mother’s Day Shenanigans 🩷

Mother’s Day in your household was definitely well you just had to be there to experience everything. Usually Urban would have Phoenix draw you something or make you a little gift.

This year since it was going to be not only Phoenix but Venus as well Urban decided to get pictures taken of the kids but what Urban didn’t realize just how stressful it was going to be working with a 7 year old and a 3 year old.

“Phoenix what are you doing? Venus what are you doing.” Urban so badly wanted to pull all of his hair out as the kids ran around.

He still to this day had no idea how you managed to go grocery shopping with the kids or honestly do anything with them even though that sounded a bit harsh he just had a new source of respect for you and mothers everywhere.

The photographer was looking at Urban wondering what he was going to do, Urban’s cheeks were red from embarrassment. “See and this is exactly why I’m not having kids.” Jack told Urban as he sat back in the chair.

Phoenix and Venus yelled at screamed as they ran around the studio, the two of them running past all the equipment.

“Come on Phoenix stop chasing your sister around and sit on the box.” Urban demanded but of course the kids weren’t listening, Phoenix was too busy chasing around Venus with a flower and surprisingly who would’ve thought Venus hated flowers.

“Daddy!” Venus cried out and eventually ran over towards Urban and his behind his legs. “Stop hiding Venus it’s just a silly flower it won’t hurt you.” Phoenix pushed the flower back in her face making her cry out and make grabby hands so Urban would pick her up.

Phoenix giggled and tossed the flower in her face making her screech and practically claw at Urban’s back.

“Phoenix Wyatt you need to stop terrorizing your sister and sit down on the box so we can take these pictures and get back home before your mother finds out!.”

Urban never raised his voice at any of the kids but he just felt so overwhelmed now he knew exactly how you felt.

Phoenix’s bottom lip began to quiver and before Urban knew it his eyes began to fill with tears and the only sound coming from the studio was his cries.

“Well that does it, come on Phoenix let’s step outside for a bit.” Jack took his little hand and led him outside. Urban sighed and placed Venus on the chair.

“I’m sorry Urban but I have another client in a few minutes so I don’t think I’ll be able to take your pictures, I’m so sorry.” Joey the photographer told Urban he nodded his head in understanding. “Come on Venus let’s just go home.”

When they got outside Phoenix had the rose in his hand and was leaned against the brick wall outside of the studio. “What’s going on?” Urban asked Jack. “We’re about to get that photo shoot one way or another.”

“But the photographer wasn’t able to get any pictures?” Jack rolled his eyes and handed Urban his camera.

“Urban, you literary take pictures for a living I don’t even understand why you tried hiring someone when you can do it yourself.” Jack was right Urban didn’t need some fancy equipment from someone else when he had his own.

“Venus go over there and stand with Phoenix.” Luckily she was able to without Phoenix messing with her and Urban smiled as he took pictures of the kids.

Jack stood in the background making funny noises to keep them entertained and Urban was able to get some good shots.

After taking a few more pictures they all went out to get ice cream while Jack and Venus went to pick out the flavors. Phoenix and Urban stayed back at the benches waiting for the ice cream.

“Daddy?” Phoenix mumbled and Urban looked at him with his eyebrows raised.

“Yes bub?” “Do you not love me anymore?” Phoenix sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “What? I don’t hate you Phoenix nor would I ever stop loving you it’s just you need to listen for daddy okay? And you need to stop bugging your sister especially when she doesn’t like it okay?”

Phoenix nodded and scoffed over closer to Urban and leaned against him. “I love you Daddy.” “I love you too Phoenix.”

Once Jack and Venus came back they all ate their ice cream in silence when they finished Urban dropped Jack off at home before going back home himself. You were out of town on a business trip and would be back home tomorrow morning just in time for Mother’s Day.

Urban got the kids showered and put to bed Phoenix somehow conceived Urban to let them all sleep in the living room, while they were all sleep Urban brought out the heart shaped balloons he had bought you along with the flowers, the pictures he took earlier of the kids he hung them on pieces of wire so they’d be dangling from the ceiling.

After he finished he looked around and nodded his head in approval at his work before heading to sleep himself with both of the kids on each side of him.

————————————————————————

“I’m sure the house looks a mess.” You told your friend Annie who was on the phone, you had just got back home and gosh were you glad to be back. “I doubt it but I’ll talk to you later alright?”

“Alright I’ll see you later Annie.” You hung up the phone and unlocked the front door. “I’m home!” You went to yell but stopped seeing all the decorations everywhere and your sleeping husband and kids on the living room floor.

“Oh my babies.” You cried out and coo’d at them sleeping peacefully on the floor, you began to tear up seeing the photos of the kids and the hand written notes from the both of them.

You took off one of the pictures that was hanging down, it was a picture of Phoenix holding Venus’s hand the two of them laughing at the camera.

You adored your kids so much and when you saw the pictures of Urban laying on the grass with the kids jumping on top of him it just sent you completely overboard with emotions.

You started crying and had to step out so you wouldn’t wake Urban and the kids up.

“I told you she’d start crying.” Urban mumbled to Phoenix, he giggled and snuggled back into Urban.

“Why does mommy cry so much?” Venus asked all three of them were peaking from behind the couch as you stood outside on the porch trying to control your emotions.

“Yeah mommy cries so much just like Venus does.” Phoenix stated causing for Venus to stick her tongue out at him. “Phoenix.” Urban said sternly and he stopped.

“Your mommy just has a lot of emotions that’s all.” Urban told them. “Let’s just get back to bed before she makes us clean all this up.” They all headed back to bed instantly.

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

TTD - True Evil 2/4

part1 part2 part3 part 4

*

Hero considered themself as a simple person: when there was a mystery, answers had to be found. For answers to be found, you had to ask those who were hiding something. It was clear that Villain would not talk to them, but there was one obvious solution left. Sighing, they pulled out their phone and sent a text to Superhero.

The next morning, they entered the elite training room, forcing their lips to smile. They hated this place. Superhero, under the pretext that Hero couldn’t be hurt by his laser beams, never stopped training when they were there. It was true that Hero’s powers technically protected them, but being so close to something so deadly was nothing pleasant, and if they were immune to lasers, they weren’t to wreckage.

Superhero was already in here. He was kicking a brick construction in a corner. After two or three tries, it all crumbled. Superhero shook his head.

“Too slow. Too weak,” he mumbled for himself.

Hero cleared their throat. Superhero turned his head and beamed at them.

“Ah, it’s you! I’m happy to see you.”

“You are?”

Superhero chuckled and took them by the shoulder:

“I want to apologize for the last time. I was a little too direct. A leader-”

His gaze became unfocused:

“A good leader has to give positive vibes. You have to forgive me. As you know, my week has been complicated. In a life of battles, sometimes you forget yourself.”

It was true that Superhero made the news nearly every day. He rarely rested and took down Supervillains once a week. He wasn’t at the top of the agency for nothing. Hero, who maybe had to fight five or six times since they’d begun the job, nodded:

“I understand.”

Superhero looked at them from top to toe and made a wan smile in answer.

“I wanted to ask about Villain,” said Hero.

Their boss shook his head with a slight frown, grasping their shoulder with a little more strength:

“Can’t you make an investigation by yourself? See, this is what worries me. You can’t cry for help every time you meet an obstacle. Do the work yourself. Now, forgive me, I have to train.”

“I made it, sir. To begin with, Villain is an orphan, left at birth. No one knows about their family.”

“Now, it that an excuse for villainy? You of all people should know-”

“The thing is, sir, I have a rather clear idea about Villain’s background. What I don’t know is what they have done, except for some petty robberies. Their file mentions murders, but I can’t find concrete proof anywhere.”

“Seek harder.”

“With all due respect sir, that’s what I’m doing. I’ve looked into the history, and you helped writing this… file.”

The last word was pronounced through clenched teeth. The pressure on their shoulder had just become painful. It didn’t last long, though. Superhero let them go, their gaze unfocused. Hero stepped back hastily, massaging their shoulder.

“Sir?”

“You-”

He stopped. Hero glanced at the door behind them. It wasn’t far, but they couldn’t dream of getting out without being caught. They couldn’t compete with someone with super speed. Hero pushed back that thought – come on, it was their boss – and tried to keep their professional-looking face when Superhero smiled at them again, with a grin as small and forced as theirs.

“You were right to come to me. Maybe I should have told you first. We could have avoided all of this. Let’s go in my office.”

Hero followed him to the stairs. They had never gone up there. It was usually a place reserved for important people, superheroes or at least top-ranked heroes. They always imagined a really fancy place. It was…a bit of a disappointment, to tell the truth. The corridor itself was empty and cold, without tables or chairs. Superhero’s place was a small, cramped room, with an old office that occupied most of the space and an old, closed cupboard. There was no decoration, nothing on the gray, thick walls. Two stools were the only sitting accommodations. Hero stayed up, looking at the place with confusion, while their chief went to the cupboard (not without difficulty) to pick up a little box. He pulled out of it what looked like a pair of earbuds, and put one of them on.

“Do you know what it is?”

“No, sir.”

“They are from a friend I saved once from – no matter. They allow reliving the memories of the one who wears it. It’s very useful for interrogations.”

“I don’t understand-”

“I know you don’t. Villain is a cold-blooded killer, Hero, since they were a child. And I know more than anyone since I’ve seen them do it.”

Hero recoiled. Their boss noticed and had a grim smile.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to relive that, but then, you’re right. I shouldn’t spare myself if it hides the truth.”

Then his voice dropped into a growl:

“Take it. Take it and read my mind if it takes that to convince you.”

Hero looked into the pale red eyes that stared at him.

I’m immune to lasers. I’m immune to lasers. I’m not immune if he crushes my spine if he fires me if- no. Stop it.

They put the Not-Earbuds on.

*

Next part here

Check the These Two Dorks Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with this Hero and Villain. This is how they met and now they’re roommates.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[a-s-levynn]

G'morn. Crimson, brick red and claret for the ask game 👀

Morninggg Alex! Tho we moved away from morning, since i finally managed to answer the first ask (and now this one), but in spirit it is still morning.

crimson: if you could have only one photo or poster on your wall, what would it be?

Ah man.. photo or poster? I have no idea. If i could pick one picture i would pick one of the paintings i have on my wall back at home. Can i pick that? I'm picking that. This thing:

Not the best pic, i had to cut it from the background from an other, but the vibe is there. First painting i bought for myself about a decade ago, from a local painter. I just.. you know looked at it and i was like.. okay i need that. It wasn't expensive either, because no one wanted it. The extra kick: it is entitled The Mask.

brick red: have you ever been in an abandoned building?

I have! We had abandoned sidebuildings around the traintracks in my hometown when i was a kid. I also been to some closed off buildings waiting for renowation. There was also an old, closed off building/wing of the hospital i've seen from the inside. To this day, i have no idea how we were not caught on that one. But yeah, you could say i did some urbex in a way. Wasn't the goal back than but you know.. let's say it was.

claret: talk about a memorable experience on public transport.

Well, the most recent one you actually already know! The man on the bus in Manchester, who recommended us to check out the Chatham Library! Who's doughter was also coincidentally a ST fan going to the gig. But i have a few from the sword shop era, let's have one from those:

I was on the bus, when my boss actually called about a shipment. Of course it had to be the decorational modern firearm shipment and not the swords or daggers. So i was sitting at the back of the bus, trying to recount how many desert eagles in what colour i put an order for and like, being on public transport, i'm not gonna be loud and all that. What i didn't notice was the two police officers also taking the same bus as me. I was still on the call when they came over. Obviously they didn't think i was talking about some illegal weapon shipment on a very public bus so openly, but they got curious. So i whipped out my phone, showed them the website, and told them that people serving with armed forces get a baseline 5% discount, so if they ever need a retirement gift for a collague or something, visit us. The funny part was, that not long after they actually showed up to pick up something for the promotion of their friend.

[showingpitytowardsyourownkind]

A bunch of screenshots in honor of the final day of the Chapter One era!!!

Image ID 1: A tweet by @s4m31p4n that says “Bro your relationship with your friend is borderline homosexual and I think that’s beautiful” on top of Sherlock and Jon gazing into each other’s eyes in the cemetery. Jon has his hand on Sherlock’s shoulder to comfort him.

Image ID 2: A screenshot of “Ideas for you” that says, “existential crisis” and “pretty boy aesthetic” on top of Sherlock with tears running down his cheeks as he looks towards Verner who approaches him from behind.

Image ID 3: An Onion “News in Brief” headline that says “Mediocre Painter’s True Talent Lies In Acting Like A Painter” on top of Verner painting at his easel in the cemetery.

Image ID 4: A Tumblr post by nyxfaei that says “Troubled grown men doing wife shit in my mind palace” on top of Sherlock and Jon reconstructing a crime scene. Sherlock is sitting cross-legged on the floor while Jon stands silhouetted in the center of the room, which looks like a blueprint drawing.

Image ID 5: A ClickHole “LIFESTYLE” headline that says “Gloves: It’s Gloves” on top of Sherlock gesturing earnestly while wearing his leather gloves in an opulent room.   

Image ID 6: Two Tumblr posts by romanroyandtomwambsganshavingsex that says “being an unreliable narrator is inherently homoerotic” and “what do you have to hide? your sexuality?” on top of Sherlock and Verner and talking seriously in his gallery.

Image ID 7: A tweet by @Thor_SSB and posted by @makeupaguy that says “guy who can accurately tell you the color of a crayon from only a blind taste test” on top of Sherlock looking blankly in front of a brick wall.

Image ID 8: A Tumblr post by tomwambsgirl that says “guy who carnally desires another guy and decides the only course of action is to psychologically torture him about it” on top of Sherlock and Verner lit dramatically by horizontal stripes of light that reveal only one of each of their eyes.

Image ID 9: A tweet by @abbygov that says “you ever meet a man and it’s so obvious that no one in his life has ever told him to shut the fuck up” on top of Sherlock in the hotel lobby with his arms crossed. Jon is in the background leaning against a pillar and also has his arms crossed.

Image ID 10: An Onion “Opinion>>Commentary” headline that says “It’s Not Easy Being The Life Of The Orgy” on top of Verner in a mask and robes lounging on a settee and surrounded by women.

Image ID 11: A Tumblr post by demonanata that says “Everyones like ‘oh no the tragic events were so avoidable, thats terrible’ but they never ask ‘did you experience catharsis, how was the catharsis, the catharsis looked fun’” on top of Sherlock kneeling heartbrokenly at the edge of the Stonewood Manor pond with Mycroft standing over him.

Image ID 12: A ClickHole “LIFESTYLE” headline that says “Mother’s Footsteps Are Approaching. She Must Smell Your Ice Cream.” on top of Sherlock and Jon in their childhood bedroom wearing ice cream uniforms. Sherlock looks like his is about to bolt but Jon is lounging on the bed.

[ryemackerel]

HALLO i was wondering how you get out of art block?? your art is very expressive and i absolutely adore all your colour choices and designs. ive been having trouble with art block for a very long time now so i’m just trying to ask other artists how they get outta it <3 i hope u have a niceday yesyes

OUGHH HELLO!!! holy crap, art block is the WORST. everytime i encounter it, its always hard to beat it D: theres days where i feel like i WANT to draw something so badly but my brain just. cant function

i dont have a definitive solution for art block, but whenever i do, i have a few ways to cope with it. sometimes they work, sometimes they dont? but whenever the time comes and im just sitting at a brick wall, i got some survival tips

1. come up with random silly ideas,, it could be anything: random words, phrases, scenarios. they can be as nonsensical as you want them to be. during art blocks, my mind is completely dry with ideas, so i always try to compile a list of ideas from the past so i can come back to them later on. i try to come up with random duos or something as simple as “mcdonalds date”. i might not work on these now, but maybe some random lil word can spark that creativity in me

heres my art ideas list… i have some ideas that are like 8 months old in there BGAHSGA, but i save em there till i feel like working on them

2. STRUGGLE DOODLES!! i like to make a bunch of doodles of random scenes that i think about in my head. doodle practically anything. your favorite person, favorite animal, something you see outside your window, frogs?

heres a few of mine. most of the time, i NEVER get to finishing them. however, during art blocks sometimes i like to go back to really old, incomplete guidelines and add some new, random addition to it. sometimes i forget what my sketches were exactly meant to be? and i guess thats the fun about interpreting stuff and giving things a new spin to them. during art blocks, i HATE trying to come up with new drawings from a blank canvas (since i dont even have any ideas to begin with). but working on old wips, or completely revising them? sometimes these can be super fun :]

[and bonus tip!! and this is like, a golden tip that everyone loves: going back to super old drawings and redrawing them!! its my favorite. i absolutely love seeing the improvement ive made over the years. its also pretty easy to work with since you dont have to stress about coming up with completely new ideas from a blank slate! GAHH i should do that more often.]

3. search up your favorite fanart, go on pinterest, anything. i love this one.

search up some really cool photos of outfits, aesthetic backgrounds?? i find myself searching up a lot of fanart of fandoms im in, any word with “aesthetic” at the end, casino aesthetic, anything! pinterest has always been my go-to platform to find ideas. i go on the app and not even a second in, im blown with all of this cool art n character designs. i have a problem saving almost everything i find into my boards, but at least i saved a chock-full of ideas i can work with. :)

a thing about me: ive never been the type to try and force my art block out. whenever im facing a block, its extremely difficult for me to come up with things on my own. sometimes i let it wait for a while, but that tends to take a REALLY long time. D: if i dont feel like drawing, or doodling, or really doing anything? i always like scrolling through really pretty photos. that tends to spark a small idea in me i can work with, and sometimes i manage to get out of art block from there. it starts out small, then over time it gets even better.

these photos especially gave me WAY more motivation than i ever had to draw wilbur during an art block moment. i started off making small random doodles of him in a neon city and over time it kinda turned into a fixation for neon cities. i LOVE imagining characters in random photos i find on pinterest.

wishing you the bestest in your art journey!! this crap’s tough but i know you can break it yo. thank you so much for the ask!

feel free to reblog and add your own ideas below :] i was only able to come up with a few, but if youd like to add on, go right ahead! /noforce

[envihellbender]

Backrooms fatty

Characters: u/urbexmallrat (OC), unnamed monstrosity

Content: fat monster, creepypasta thinly veiled fetish, impossibly big

—

r/FindingTheBackrooms posted by u/urbexmallrat 21 hours ago

Anyone seen this monster in the Backrooms?

Hey guys,

I was recommended this subreddit by r/urbexuk after no one there could help me. I thought The Backrooms was just a dumb creepypasta but honestly it’s the best explanation for what I stumbled upon. Bit of background, I’m a photographer, I’ve had pictures published in National Geographic so I’m the real deal. Outside of this occurrence I’m just a normal guy with a camera, I’m really into urbex and working on a book right now. There’s a shopping centre near me that I went to as a kid in the early 90s. I’m from a small town just off the motorway and the building used to be this huge busy place a couple of miles away. There was an arcade, cinema, all that stuff. It was really, really huge. It’s so weird to me that it was abandoned and honestly, it’s terrifying and fascinating to me that this place is completely deserted and being taken over by nature when I went there every weekend until I was 12.

Just to set the scene, here’s some pics of the place. Maybe it’ll be familiar to someone and you can explain away what I’ve seen. Hell, I’d love it if someone could do that.

The first photograph is of the entrance of a shopping mall, the windows have been smashed or bordered up, and the tiles on the floor have weeds and dead grass growing through the cracks. The walls have ivy and half dead trees clinging to them, and beneath that is a Starbucks that has had all of its furniture removed and strange symbols spray painted on the walls and floor inside of it. There’s a giant fountain in the middle of the entrance walkway, the water inside it is murky and covered in a strange slime. The second is of the entrance to an arcade. The machines are covered in a thick layer of dust and there are forgotten toys in a crane machine. There’s some strange orange teddy bears that are filled with stuffing in odd selections that have lumps in them. Their eyes are tears in their fabric, they look like a strange cross between a rabbit and a goat. The third photograph is taken from an above walkway showing the floor beneath, there are some abandoned shops and an outdoor coffee shop that has a couple of feral cats sitting by a dormant and decrepit coffee machine.

See? It’s called the Silver Bells Shopping Centre. I’d be interested to hear from anyone else who remembers it because none of my childhood friends or family remember it. So weird. I still have a Garfield Teddy from the crane machine at that arcade, it sits on my shelf. Here it is:

The photo shows a strangely shaped stuffed animal, one of the orange toys from the previous picture.

Anyway, I was using the opportunity to go find parts of the place we don’t usually see. I intended to go see some back storage rooms then go to the cellar. I guess I found that… anyway, I went to the food court which was kept on the lowest level and found a McDonalds. I hopped over the counter and slipped down the back. There was a lot of rats living in the now empty deep fat fryers but I figured live and let live. Weirdly I don’t remember having left the kitchen, but I must have done. I walked forwards, expecting to reach a door to take me out to some storage place. Instead I was walking for a good five minutes without going through anything and when I turned round the McDonalds was gone and there was just that terrifying yellow painted brick wall. I took some photos:

The first photo showed a family of rats living in the deep fat fryer, five were staring at the phone with bright red eyes. The second shows a blurry wall with light yellow bricks. The third, forth, and fifth all show different parts of the corridor, they all look essentially the same - yellow bricks, which stone floor, and nothing else distinctive.

So I had no idea how I ended up there but honestly I was mostly just assuming I was lost and took photos to help find my way back. I was wandering around these corridors for a long, long, loooooong time. My phone alarms kept going off - I have one at 2.30pm, one at 5:10pm, and one of 7:30pm so that’s how I knew time was moving even if my mobile clock hadn’t moved (yeah I know, how were my alarms going off if the time on my phone wasn’t moving, no idea!) After the last alarm I finally saw a door, and was over the fucking moon, so happy I got scared of going through it. Kind wish I hadn’t. Well. I guess doing that meant whatever weird monster I saw could guide me out, after it took what it liked from me. I can’t explain what I saw, or how I got out. And it doesn’t matter. I don’t care, I just wanna know what the fuck happened to me and what the fuck did I see. Here’s the monster I saw, doesn’t seem to match any monsters you guys have on file so I’m hoping that I missed something. Not sure how I feel about being the one who found out about a new species …

These sets of photos are much worse quality than the other pictures, and it’s not entirely clear what they are. The first shows a strange pile of flesh, a bright light - perhaps the camera flash - reflects against it. If you focus you can see that there’s a smattering of black hair over it, and angry purple marks where the skin has stretched obscenely. At first it simply looks like a closeup, but the photographer’s shadow shows that the navel or the occupant is significantly bigger than the owner of the flab. The second shows the adipose from a different angle, there’s one gigantic hill of fat, there’s another on top of it, and one more. This looks more human, but the way the light flashes and reflects on something on the otherwise of the wall shows that the height of the photographer is half that of the lower most fat roll. The third is an eye, a milky brown iris with bloodshot whites, that is crushed between a bloated cheek and sagging forehead, causing it to be a pinprick. The final photo shows the photographers digits held up against two enormous bloated brown lips, showing that just one of the slug like features is larger than the camera man’s entire hand.

So yeah. That’s the monster I found. If I had to estimate the size… well, it was significantly taller than me and I had to climb on it to get most of the photos. I’m six foot three, and I barely came up to its navel. I’ve seen elephants, whales, and stuff but none of them came close to it. Honestly if I didn’t know any better I’d say the creature was as big as I predicted the shopping mall was. Does this mean anything? Anyone see anything similar?

Update 1: please can every ignore my teddy and focus on the actual post lol

Update 2: I don’t know everyone’s focusing on my teddy but it’s Garfield lol don’t any of you remember Garfield?

Update 3: ignoring every question about my teddy now lol but thanks for everyone who asked me about the monster. Seems this isn’t a common experience but u/roadkillnapster pointed out that without a decent photo that shows more of the overall shape, it’s possible it’s a known monster that’s gotten really fat. Seems possible to me. Any fleshy monsters that could be similar?

Update 4: wow I wasn’t expecting so much conversation off my post, lotta people want to see it and have asked if I could show more videos and photos. I mean I don’t know but I’ll see if I can set up a livestream, so glad a lot of you wanna get to the bottom of this too!

Update 5: and thanks for freaking me out about my Garfield teddy, the wool is doing this weird expanding thing so it’s doubled in size and now I’m all scared it’s haunted lol

[k00280081]

Graphic Design: Album Cover + Type & Image - Introduction to Photoshop

On Friday I attended Eva Shortt's workshop exploring type and image with the introduction to photoshop. I found this workshop to be very helpful in regards to learning about how image and type work together and I was introduced to many Graphic Design artists that have distinct styles that I like such as Paula Scher and Luke Brown.

In the workshop we were tasked to recreate an album cover using photoshop for our favourite album. I chose 'Teatro D'ira' by Maneskin. When coming up with ideas for the album cover, I was inspired by another album of Maneskin's, 'Rush'. The album cover contains a light blue room with no windows that seems to go on for infinity, which I took inspiration from by having a dark background that doesn't seem to have an end. I was also influenced by Paula Schers posters where often the people have a coloured filter over them which I feel sets the over all mood for the piece.

My final concept for my album recreation was to have a brick wall that seemed to never end in a dark place that also seems to never end. There is a person kicking the wall having a tantrum while stepping on the puddled ground while a another version of them sits upon the wall laughing down at them. The person kicking the wall is in a red filter to represent their anger that they cannot pass the wall as there is a 'Stop' sign preventing them, while the other is in bright, isotherm colours which show happiness and content that they have found away across the wall despite the 'Stop' sign. In the background dark sky I added a low opacity version of a negative image I had previously taken on a pinhole camera during a photography workshop.

[unorthodoxica]

[Image Description:

Image 1: Figure 17, titled "# of poisoned concepts", from the paper linked in the original post, depicting a grid of three rows, each containing four prompt-generated images: "a person," "a painting," and "a seashell," respectively, as labeled on the left of each row. The first, second, third, and fourth image in each row represents the number of poisoned concepts in the model: 0, 100, 250, and 500, respectively, as labeled on the top of each column.

For the first row, a person at 0 poisoned concepts depicts a clearly defined greyscale image of a young person with a neutral expression and a nondescript background. At 100 poisoned concepts, the image is highly saturated, of a person sitting on a lawn chair next to a wooden table. Their face is indistinct though they appear to be smiling, an elbow propped up on one armrest. They are either in a backyard or park, a red and blue rectangle in the background. At 250 poisoned concepts, the image is degraded, speckled heavily in shades of green, red, and black depicting a vague image of a person from the waist up on the right side of the image. The background consists of irregular rectangles, like a brick wall. At 500 poisoned concepts, the image is pure visual noise, akin to TV static.

For the second row a painting at 0 poisoned concepts, depicts a ship painted realistically in peaceful waters under a blue sky. The coastline is grassland, occasionally interrupted by large boulders. At 100 poisoned concepts, the image is an abstract painting of flowers in bright pinks, reds, and oranges. The background is a soft blue and yellow. At 250 poisoned concepts, the painting consists of red, orange, yellow, and green dots of irregular shape and size on a background of overlapping blue and black squares. At 500 poisoned concepts, the painting is visual noise very similar to the first row.

For the third row, an image of a seashell at 0 poisoned concepts depicts a shell with a round, bulging top— somewhat like a small conch shell— with a flared, ridged base, like a skirt spinning in the wind. Colored soft cream with orange streaks, lying on sand. At 100 poisoned concepts, the generated image depicts what appears to be the white gills of a mushroom with an orange and white protrusion from its center, which has a feathery or fuzzy texture and small holes along its surface. At 250 poisoned concepts, the image is degraded and high contrast, depicting a series of white curves in an arch shape. The space between the curves is dark brown or black. At 500 poisoned concepts, the image generated is visual noise, a giant red circle in the center.

Image 2 to 4 are of @TheGlazeProject's tweets. They read:

Today is the day. Nightshade v1.0 is ready. Performance tuning is done, UI fixes are done. You can download Nightshade v1.0 from nightshade.cs.uchicago.edu Please read the what-is page and also the User's Guide on how to run Nightshade. It is a bit more involved than Glaze Quick notes 1. probably not best idea to announce an image as poison, kinda defeats the purpose 2. a shaded image is not glazed. If you want protection from mimicry, do not post your art with only nightshade. 3. NS is memory sensitive. If u have big apps running, close them first Folks. This version does not include glaze. We will work on an integrated version of glaze+ns. For now if you want benefits of both, you should shade first, glaze last. But note that artifacts might be more visible. The integrated version will fix this issue.

End ID.

Good news, fellow artists! Nightshade has finally been released by the UChicago team! If you aren't aware of what Nightshade is, it's a tool that helps poison AI datasets so that the model "sees" something different from what an image actually depicts. It's the same team that released Glaze, which helps protect art against style mimicry (aka those finetuned models that try to rip off a specific artist). As they show in their paper, even a hundred poisoned concepts make a huge difference.

(Reminder that glazing your art is more important than nighshading it, as they mention in their tweets above, so when you're uploading your art, try to glaze it at the very least.)

[the-acid-pear]

Tonight aside from refining my seer skills I dream about a fucking baby almost dying. We were in this old house like full on grandma house so dark (bc poor lightning) and brown (lot of wood, the other tone was greyish white). I was sitting in the ground around this coffee table w some ppl and in a diff room a baby was climbing around and by baby I mean toddler? He changed age a lot. And the baby was doing some spiderman shit until he fell FLAT on the ground and as you can imagine that was terrifying bc we thought he fucking died but no he was a little bloodied (blood looked dry and wiped away in his cheek, that orangy after tone outline) but Alive so I picked it up and we rushed outside (we were like 5 ppl no clue WHO I kinda recognize someone from highschool but don't even remember her name???) and the baby started crying but i started tickling him and just goofying and he laughed bc he liked me.

Now I don't know why but car wasn't an option anymore now we got on a bus and it was the type of surreal shit you'd usually expect from a dream with senseless rules and architecture bc i just couldn't get around it I had to get around the seats hand the baby then spin back around I have no clue why it was so awkward. I mean it was bc my fat ass couldn't fit but that engineering man fucking hell...

Anyway instead of a going to a hospital we went to a courtroom and it was going well a bit of fighting against ppl I had no idea who they were until we had to hand a paper but we hadn't finished it and so they dismissed us and were like alright everyone go outside grab a book and it was like recess in a little patch of grass surrounded by brick walls (and a side step around it) outside of the courthouse. There I sat to draw and saw two primary school friends. I spoke w one named Tobias. I was drawing and so was he. He drew Goku. I started drawing a scene. Drew the background then a person and it was fun even in dream struggling w it but managing. I ended up drawing this white haired butch w a dog. Maybe it was a guy idk. Tits out tho last minute addition. Background had hills and square mountains and waterfalls. It was very pretty :)

And yeah then I woke up damned be the baby

[jgphotography]

Chris Killip Exhibition Assignment

I would describe Killip's approach to photography as very "candid" and "real". Although the photographs seem to be somewhat staged in my opinion, he isn't trying to create something artificial with them. It seems like he's trying to take pictures of everyday occurrences, rather than transient sights that are somewhat fleeting.

I noticed that he typically doesn't like for people to look directly at the camera. Also, like I touched on in question 1, he likes to depict people taking part in their daily, natural life, doing activities such as farming, riding a horse, or even sitting on a ledge in the city.

I see a bunch of tombstones in the photo, not in a particular order or formation, as well as a body of water behind the gravestones, and the sky above it. Due to the picture being black-and-white, I couldn't tell what color the sky is, but to me it seemed like a somewhat dreary day, though that may be because of the gravestones in the picture.

I don't notice much in terms of the focus of the picture; the only thing I could say is that the focus is definitely on the gravestones. There's a small piece of land far in the background that's out of focus, but it's definitely not the main focal point of the image. The image is also in black-and-white rather than color. In terms of composition, the picture was taken at an angle so that all of the gravestones could be in the shot, and that for the most part they weren't blocking one another.

The focus being on the gravestones makes it so that they're the only thing I really noticed about the picture at first glance. It really stresses the importance of them in the picture, as opposed to the tall structures on the horizon or the small piece of land in the background. The choice to shoot in black-and-white was also really good for the "vibe" that I believe Killip was trying to create with the picture, making it look very dreary and somber. It really embodies the feeling of being in a graveyard, and I believe that if the sky was blue and clear behind the gravestones then it would've completely changed the way I viewed the image. The composition of the photo emphasizes the somewhat haphazard nature of this graveyard. The gravestones aren't in any specific pattern, and they're also of different styles, sizes, colors, etc. It emphasizes a disparity between those buried (e.g. nicer gravestones for richer people), and to me this also shows how death is indiscriminate.

I don't think you need additional info to understand the message. It seems like Killip was trying to get the idea across that death is indiscriminate and comes for us all.

The style of photo somewhat reminds me of pictures in history books of battlefields after the fact, where you see a bunch of things left behind (e.g. weapons, clothing, etc) from people who died. While the only thing symbolizing death in this picture is the gravestones, they're somewhat scattered and very different from one another, so that may be why it reminds me of that.

I see what appears to be a young person, sitting on a ledge. I can't tell if they're crying, but they definitely appears to be having a hard time, whether it be for physical or emotional reasons. The ledge they're sitting on is all brick, and you can see a window behind them out of focus.

In this picture, the person is in focus while the wall and window behind them is out of focus. This makes the viewer of the image focus on them, rather than any of the background details such as the window. Realistically, the setting is important; the subject of the photo is the person, and the emotion they're displaying. This image is also in black-and-white, but I don't feel as if the image would've changed much if it was in color. Finally, the composition makes the viewer focus only on the person, since they take up so much of the shot. The choice to take the picture from their side also allows us to see their face and expression, as if it was from the front their face would've been covered.

The choice to take the picture in black-and-white didn't affect the way I saw the picture that much, and neither did the focus. I suppose if the person was out of focus, while the wall behind them was in focus, it would've affected the way I view the image, so I guess having the person be in focus was a good idea. The composition helps by allowing us to see their facial expression, and also the choice to make them take up so much of the frame makes it so that you have no choice but to focus on the person. That's why I don't think the image would've worked if the background were the focus point because so little of it is showing.

I think I do need a little bit of additional information. The time period it was taken in as well as the location may help me understand why the person is going through a hard time. For example, if this picture took place during an economic depression, it may be due to lack of funds or money in the family, for example.

The style of photo doesn't remind me of any other style, but rather of a specific time period. Like I said before, it reminds me of pictures during the Great Depression, where people were going through a really turbulent time. I feel like photography like this brought people together in their sentiments of pain and hard times.