#also so many links in this post;;; for easy convenience for anyone who wants to check out the stuff i listed <3

[spaceyflowers]

Hello Adrien!! I'm here for the reblog ask thing!!❤❤

1. What is a song that you can go back and listen to no matter how many times you've listened to it? What is a song that never fails to put you in a good mood?

2. What's your favorite food/dessert?

3. What other series are you into?

4. This isn't really a question, it's more of a silly song game^^ put your music on shuffle and:

- the first song that comes up is your theme song if your life were a tv show

- the second song is your boss battle music

- the third song is the song that plays whenever something sad happens

- the fourth song is your villain era song

- the next song is what plays if you were in a horror movie

- the last song is how your favorite lookism character feels about you^^

hi li!! <3

1. i have so many songs like that T_T picking one tho, hm... i'd say prom dress by mxmtoon because it's a comfort song of mine that i resonate with ;_; (also very catchy <3) and a song that never fails to put me in a good mood is wear sunscreen by peach pyramid !! the lyrics and melody are so lovely and every time i listen to it i think, "wow.... love is real..." JSHFHSJD

2. fave food is spaghetti and fave dessert is strawberry cheescake !!

3. ever since i got really into lookism last spring, i've gotten sucked into webtoons and other series im into are weak hero, viral hit, and get schooled !! i also really enjoy horror/thriller webtoons, and am currently reading chasing tails and just finished escape room ★ (which was a 12/10 btw i recommend it so much to anyone who likes stuff that makes u wonder about human morals/philosophy)

4. ooh i love these kinds of games :]

theme song if my life were a show: oblivion by grimes - well...;; i've never gone thru the trauma this song describes but i guess the melancholy tone fits ? 😭 (not that im constantly sad but as a quiet introvert with no irl friends i really have that air of sadness around me 😭😭)

boss battle music: daijobanai/im not okay by perfume - the lyrics are sad but the song is a bop 😭😭😭 um. i hope i will be a fun boss fight for the fun music

song that plays when something sad happens: meant to be yours from heathers the musical - wow you'd think this would be my villain era song sjfhskdj it's... a sad-ish song tho ?? would still feel out of place in a sad scene tho;;

villain era song: dance, baby! by boy pablo - HELP.... my villain era is just me being sad my girl bff is dating a trash guy when i could treat her better 😔 (/lh i dont like the concept of friend-zones ;; but the angst of yearning for a dear friend while respectfully keeping your distance is 🤞💔)

horror movie song: i cant handle change by ROAR - holy shit why do i feel like this song would do SO well in a depressing horror movie, like at the end of the movie at a scene where everyone's dead except the main chara who's blaming themself for every life lost.. get me out of this horror movie bro 😭

how my fave lookism chara (sinu) feels about me: lover boy by phum viphurit - i was rlly nervous about this one BUT TELL ME WHY I ACTUALLY GOT SOMETHING SO GOOD AND FITTING??!!?! "LOVER BOY" SINU ARE U FUCKING KIDDING ME IM GOING TO BRAINROT THIS ALL DAY (he doesnt seem like the type to doubt himself/have trust issues when it comes to love but oh well AGGWHEJJE)

[mollyjames]

One problem I've been slowly contending with as an artist who is attempting to make her living online has been this idea of Friction. In this case, Friction just means anything that gets in the way of a person reading my work or giving me money.

Strangely, these two things are about equally difficult. There are plenty of people who would very much like to give me money, just as there are plenty of people who haven't gotten around to reading my comics but would like to. And the only reason they haven't is because of Friction.

So let's quickly talk about points of friction. Let's say I upload a full comic book for free to itch.io, for anyone to download to any device, and then they can download it at their convenience. Sounds easy, right? Well, no. First, the way they heard about that book was most likely through my tumblr account, which means they first have to click on a link to leave tumblr and go to a different site. That's already a major point of Friction. If someone is browsing through tumblr on the bus on their way to work, or as a means to unwind from a stressful day, they are very unlikely to want to leave tumblr and commit an unknown amount of time to a separate activity. Then that person has to decide they are willing to download the files as presented on itch. If they have an account they have to login. (Although in many cases they will already be logged in.) Finally they will have the pdf, but then they have to open the pdf at which point they will see the document is 186 pages long at which point they might well decide actually this is too much trouble right now and do something else.

And this comes around to why tumblr is actually a pretty good platform for comic artists. If I upload a couple of pages in chunks at a time, people will read them as they scroll by. That's a point of Friction already mitigated. If they liked it, or their curiosity is piqued, there might be enough interest for them to click the link that takes them directly to the beginning of the comic (also on tumblr), and they can then read it from there. Or else they might make a mental note of it for later, and the next time they see a comic chunk might be the time they have a moment to see what my comic is about. All in all pretty painless.

Unfortunately, with money that's less the case. If you think about the first example, it's not hard to see why. First I have to get someone to click on my patreon link. Then they have to make an account. Then they have to add their payment information. All of these are points of Friction that exist. What's worse is the existence of Anticipated Friction, which essentially frontloads all of that work onto the first point. This makes it very very difficult to get someone to click on any external links in the first place.

This isn't like... a call to action or to shame tumblr users for not reblogging posts by the way. That's not something I can control. It's just an interesting problem to try and solve.

[goemon-fan]

How to Help Palestine

This post is intended to guide those who have no idea on how to help Palestine. I am making this as quick as possible, so please inform me if there is another source you would like me to add, or if any of these sources are inaccurate.

According to the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund, what we, the average person, can do to help Palestine is:

Educate ourselves (reading and learning Palestine's history)

Advocate for change (writing to representatives, voting, protesting, and petitions)

Staying informed and engaged (reading reputable news sources, don't stop talking about Palestine!)

Supporting Palestinian businesses (and boycotting those businesses which do not support Palestine)

Donating to reputable organizations (the PCRF is a great one, however there is also gazaesims.com, Doctors without Borders, UNWRA, and these)

Notice how many of these are free and easily available.

Education

Decolonizepalestine.com, and more specifically its reading list, is a great start. I highly recommend this Palestine Masterlist Google Doc, it provides free resources and just about everything you need to be informed and educated. This Carrd is also informative and easy to understand. Pluto Books is having a sale on books about Palestine, and Verso Books even provides ebooks for free. Words without Borders provides free stories from Palestinian writers. This website also links to free resources. It is also worth checking out your local library to see if they have any available books about Palestine.

Advocate for Change

Email script; send the message as often as you can, and keep track of possible responses from your representatives. If they're advocating for Is---l (such as my representative is, however I do not want to doxx myself; however, they are Republican) vote them out.

Ceasefiretoday.com provides a master list of advocacy resources.

Staying Informed and Engaged

Aljazeera.com is a great resource for current news regarding Gaza, the U.S. government, and the victims of this violence.

As for staying engaged, don't stop talking about Palestine! Talk with your friends, family, anyone about what is happening, and use your newfound education to educate others! Make a stand and cut Z---ists out of your life!

Support Palestinian Businesses

This is a good beginning list, but feel free to branch out to other Palestinian brands.

However, make sure to boycott these companies, and remember to check any produce you buy (especially dates for Ramadan) to see if it is produced by Is---l.

Donating to Reputable Organizations

Here is this charity list again. Make sure that your charity of choice:

Is going to Gaza/Palestine and

Advocates for a ceasefire

Be on the lookout for scams, and if you want to help Palestinians directly without running the risk of a scam, eSims for Gaza is a great source; and, you're making history! You get to tell your ancestors how you fought for Palestinians!

What Now?

As a final note, every little bit counts. Please do not remain silent even if you run a fan account or have a particular "aesthetic," please do not allow your fandom to remain silent, please do not fall for the fallacy that there's no way you can fight against an entire government. There is strength in numbers, and every little action you make contributes, whether for better or worse. Please do not support Z-----t actors or media, please do not drink Starbucks or buy McDonalds because that is what is convenient for you, please do not choose ignorance and silence to what is happening. I am not asking you to sacrifice or put your life on hold, but you do need to care. Thank you.

[fohatic]

48-hours shy of six months to the day, tumblr has restored my blog to full functionality (no longer classifying it as "explicit") after a lengthy stint in horny jail.

what does this mean? my blog is now searchable, my posts are no longer hidden under tags, my posts can be linked, i get to have a damn icon + customizable blog page... but perhaps most exciting of all:

I NOW HAVE A WORKING ARCHIVE AGAIN, which means that you can also browse my tags! 🙏 i've just updated my featured tags, so these are easily navigable from my archive (see "tag" pull-down menu at the top). feel free to explore these! highlights include:

my fanfic -> all my fic posts/posts that feature my fics

my edit (see also: manip) -> my manip fanart or contributions to others' posts ("manip" also includes other people's manips, FYI)

fic rec -> fics that i recommend/others recommend that i co-rec

stony -> a big mishmash of fun! (see also: tony stark + steve rogers)

stevecore/tonycore/stonycore -> posts that remind me of them ♥

rdj -> (so much pretty) + chris evans -> (♥)

gorgeous fanart -> the tag i collect a ton of fanart under

yes good -> posts that really "get it" (mostly stony stuff)

writing + fanfiction -> meta stuff!

fave -> the best stuff!

about me -> a gratuitous excess of TMI about yours truly! (in tags)

*IMPORTANT: if you do not want to see potentially nsfw adult content from me, please block the following tags:

nsfk -> "not safe for kids" stuff that's iffy (general safety warning)

porny tag -> stuff that's basically porn

(note that i don't tag stuff "nsfw" bc this can negatively impact the op's account or post visibility; tumblr police are all over this tag)

(gifs via x)

it's been awhile, but it's finally time* to turn up the temperature around here again... 🔥😈

[protip: if you enter the full title of any of my fics in a tag search, you'll likely find some thematically relevant goodness 👌😏]

as always, i'm thrilled whenever anyone goes through and likes/reblogs a bunch of stuff from me -- don't be shy! i'm also open to pretty much any kind of ask (sometimes i don't participate in the chain stuff but it's nothing personal).

one thing i'll ask is that if you do find anything you like on my blog, consider reblogging it from me instead of directly from the op? as a seasoned "blog diver" (🤿🦪💎) who sometimes spends many hours of my actual life scouring the internet for certain posts (which often haven't seen any action in years), i really appreciate when i see even a little spike in my activity feed from these before they start getting circulated again <333

also, i plan to keep using @moon-language-0 as a place to store all my original fanart and fanfic posts for easy access. it's very convenient :)

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

aren't we lucky to live in a time in which technology is so easy to use and convenient for connecting us with friends? an old friend of mine died suddenly and I was the only one of the friendgroup able to make it down in time for the service (because I left work and started driving immediately after the news) but I promised my grieving out of state friends I'd discord video call them so they could view the service, since we were all on a discord channel together. at the service I mentioned this to the father of my friend and he asked if I could also send him the video. I couldn't figure out how to start a call on discord because unlike on desktop there's no button to press on mobile, my friends kept telling me to press the audio record button, which only makes an audio recording. ok, well, I wanted to save a video for friend's dad anyway, so I'll just record a video and share it with everyone later, I apologize to my friends waiting in the chat who thought they would be able to view the service with us. I record the service feeling bad about that but hey this is something. it's long and the file is big so of course I can't just send it in the chat. Can I email it to friend's dad? no. It doesn't even give me the option to share as google drive link. I try to upload it to drive manually. it's telling me I don't have enough space and I need to upgrade to their subscription service. I delete several old videos from drive and try again. it still says there's no space. I upload it as an unlisted video on youtube (so it's not public but anyone with a link can view it). this takes literal days to finish uploading but finally it's there. at last, I've fulfilled my duty, at least a little bit. I send everyone the links as I'm getting on a plane to go back to work, extremely emotionally and physically exhausted. when I look at my messages later they're asking me to un-private the video so they can watch it. that's weird, it wasn't private in the first place? I go look at it. ah I see. It's blocked because there were copyrighted songs played at the funeral. maybe I can upload it to facebook? but I don't have facebook on my phone for a variety of reasons (don't use it, also it's got an unusually high amount of tracking and weird data stuff associated with the app even for how bad apps usually are) so I need to get the file on my computer. plug my phone in with transfer cable. the prompt to file share does not show up to initiate file sharing. wait, I can access youtube on my computer, can I download the video that way? yes I can. will facebook block it too? how long will it take to upload there? am I doomed to fail my promises again and again? I thought I was lucky in being able to be at the funeral and that this would give me closure but it's dragging after me like an albatross. my friend's dad just texted me could I Please share the video with him because he wants to watch it. believe me man I'm trying

I start the download and start typing this post in frustration. i finish the first paragraph and check on the download. download failed. I click retry. I type some more. I check on the download. download failed. retry. download faile.d retry. download failed. I am literally keeping track of how many times this happens. I'm not exaggerating. wow it kept downloading for a while that time--download failed. retry. download failed. retry. did I mention I have covid right now, possibly from traveling to the funeral, and I'm out of breath and almost lightheaded from walking up stairs, so I can only imagine the breathing issues that have been getting progressively worse with every infection are going to make it even harder for me to exist the way I want to after this. download failed, retry. is there not enough space on my computer? I cleared up space recently, and shouldn't it tell me if that's the issue? I have a hard drive I could get out it necessary, but I don't really want to save this albatross, I want to get it out somewhere the people I promised to share it with can see it and forget about it for a while. it only needs to be on my computer long enough to upload to facebook. download failed. retry. when do I know I should give up on this? download failed. retry. this is becoming a metaphor for grief now and I resent it. it says the download will be complete in 28 seconds. maybe this time? it's said 28 seconds for a while. download failed. opening in 32 seconds. 19 seconds. fuck it's stuck on 4. so near and yet so far. yep. download failed. 6 seconds. holy shit I've got it. it's on my computer. I open up facebook on my devoted 'shitty websites container' browser (chrome, I also leave my amazon account logged in on there in case I'll rarely need something) and try to upload. loading. There's no time estimate even. just a 'posting' spinning loading circle. I'm terrified I'll accidentally close the window and have to start over before it's done. I don't know if my discord friends have facebook. can I silence the audio on the parts of the video so I can share it unlisted on youtube? I'd have to do some in depth video editing of a kind I've never done before, though I have done some basic video editing in the past--years ago--so maybe I could figure it out. this is a week past the funeral at this point. it just keeps going.

posting . . .

[oh-honey-its-maxine]

So I wrote a review/analysis of Revolutionary Girl Utena on letterboxd and my friend told me I should post it on here, so here it is. I'll put the link to the review and I'll also paste it under the read-more for convenience.

This is my 3rd watch and boy do I have a lot of feelings. I really recommend people to read the Palace Perspective on archivesofourown.org. It's a very in-depth essay about the deeper themes of the show.

Anthy Himemiya is probably one of my favourite characters of all time. She's just a girl. She's been here from the start. She's not really here. She's an awkward teenager. She's at the centre of the world. She's a bird in a cage. She's an allegory for all the ways women suffer under patriarchy. From the first episode, before we know the truth of the rose bride, we see her be blamed anytime something bad happens to a male character. On the first watch she's seems to not have much personality, but once you have a better understanding of her and what she's been through she (and subsequently the show itself) becomes so much more interesting. You notice all the ways she exercises her agency, mostly to fuck with Nanami, and that's important! Because that's the point of the ending, nothing changed, there was no revolution. Anthy didn't suddenly become more powerful, Utena just showed her that she was worth being saved and so she saved herself. I'm going to give Akio a (rare) break and say he's not the one that started calling Anthy a witch, however he is the one that kept her in that coffin through abuse and manipulation and continually scapegoated her.

Akio is also interesting. For all intents and purposes, he was once a victim himself. Though it's debatable how much of the Himemiya's backstory is just metaphor, it seems he was once put on a pedestal and made to live up to impossible standard. But when he couldn't meet them, Anthy took the fall for him. Ever since then he's been stuck trying to regain his glorious past, and keeping Anthy stuck with him. Akio is the most miserable motherfucker, despite being the one with the most power. Probably because he surrounds himself with teenagers he grooms, and never makes any meaningful connection with anyone despite the respect he clearly has from other adults. In the end he's the one who is the most stuck in his coffin. He refuses to heal from the pain others caused him in the past, so all he can do is perpetuate the cycle and keep everyone else trapped. He talks a big game about wanting to "revolutionise the world" but when Utena was on the verge of making real changes, he panicked and tried to stop her.

Utena is a lot smarter than what people give her credit for. The cantarella scene, the rooftop scene, she does realise the harm she's caused Anthy without meaning to. She realises the duels are inherently harmful because they keep Anthy in her role of rose bride and at Akio & the duelists' mercy. The reveal in episode 34 is so important because it shows that it wasn't really about becoming a prince, it was about saving Anthy. It was always about saving Anthy. Utena was simply told that the way to save Anthy was to become a prince, but someone who believes in the system of princes, princesses, and witches cannot save Anthy. That's why Akio was never able to open the rose gate. All Utena had to do was hold out her hand, both literally and figuratively.

Nanami is also underestimated quite often I think. She's easy to dismiss in the beginning, just another anime mean girl with a big brother complex. However, as the show unfurls, you see how she plays into the show's themes. In many ways, Touga and Nanami are a future Akio and Anthy. You see then how Touga feeds into her brother complex purposefully to control her, especially when she distances herself and his advances become more explicit. Nanami being a parallel to Anthy is crucial in showing the cyclical nature of violence in RGU and how abusive behaviour is taught and passed down to the next generation. Even the "filler" episodes show her as an animal raised to be slaughtered and consumed by Touga, her fear of being alienated from Touga and how her whole sense of self centers around being Touga's little sister.

I could go on, every character in the show is so interesting. The ways they uphold patriarchal ideas, the ways they don't. How they all try to fit into this prince-princess-witch system and it hurts all of them, but still does more harm to the girls because it strips them of their agency. How that system prevents real love from flourishing, because it forces relationships with uneven power dynamics. To finish, big love to the Shadow Girls, the best modern take on the greek chorus I've ever seen. Always throwing shade (pun intended) at the characters in the most cryptic ways possible, except when they called Akio a miserable bastard to his face.

[purplekoop]

Okay so question:

As I'm posting more and more about War Bots, I wonder if that would warrant getting its own side blog, while this remains as my general personal blog and the hub for smaller projects like Role Requeue.

The main pro to this is organization: War Bots posts are almost always super long, often have big images, and are for a pretty niche audience at the moment, so for people scrolling through my blog backlog I can imagine they're a bit of a nuisance. While you can easily find every War Bots post just by searching for the tag on my blog, it'd be easier to find stuff on its own separate blog where the Overwatch takes and twitch links and random cute dog videos I find aren't clogging things. I'd also be more willing to tag more specific things, like individual characters, different types of posts, and so on, which could be useful for later organization.

There's also the more subconscious benefit that if I have a dedicated War Bots blog, I'd be more encouraged to post to it regularly. I'd feel awkward if I had the second blog and never used it, so... motivation by avoiding mild embarrassment?

The cons are... a little more numerous.

The main issue is that I'm lazy and have never had a side blog before. While I'm aware Tumblr makes having a side blog relatively easy, it's still more of a hassle than I'm used to.

A more serious issue is that it's less convenient for other people too. If anyone who wants to follow the project wants to keep seeing posts for it, they have to go follow the other blog, which I'd have to advertise here and also would probably cross-promote posts. It also hurts how many people in the future could get their eyes on it, since just by virtue of being a variety blog (granted with a heavy Overwatch lean) more people follow this blog than a new blog dedicated entirely to a project with its own specialized tags that wouldn't get seen by anyone not already aware of it. If I want more people to know about War Bots (which, to be transparent, I do), then it'd be more probable for people to see it on the blog that uses established popular tags like Overwatch.

The last big thing that discourages me from going ahead and making a War Bots sideblog is a little more silly, but is still a concern in my head. So like. If I make a separate blog for War Bots... why don't I make a separate blog for, say... Role Requeue? That's another project with a dedicated sub-audience that might prefer a dedicated blog for it. What about one for my Splatoon OCs? That one definitely could benefit from both urging me to post more about them and also better organization, and I don't think anybody follows this blog currently for the sake of Splatoon content, so it would warrant getting a separate audience there. And those are just the things I actually post about on here, there's way more original projects like War Bots that I have in mind and wanna talk about some day. Obviously those don't warrant blogs now, but what about later? It's kind of just opening pandora's box for someone with so many random projects like me.

I dunno, just things to consider. Right now my current stance is to not make a separate War Bots blog yet, but I want to hear specifically what people think. I'd make it a direct "yes or no" poll but that feels to harsh, so I'd appreciate feedback in the replies or reblogs on this post. I'll make a separate poll in a moment, but that'll be more for fun and vibe checking than any serious decision making.

[squadrah]

From My CuriousCat

"Some Illuso headcanons maybe? And his dynamics with the rest of La Squadra?"

I have a big headcanon post on Illuso and Man in the Mirror on Tumblr, so first I will link that here if anyone is curious!

(A fair warning to anyone wanting to read more of these posts: some of them are outdated by now - as in, my feelings or views have changed -, and I actually have a multichap on Ao3 for analyzing La Squadra Stands, so I recommend that instead! Not complete yet, and for our present purposes it does not have a chapter on Man In The Mirror, but in time I hope to cover everyone.)

With that out of the way, here we go! To my mind, Illuso is a rather complex and somewhat problematic individual, but undoubtedly one of the lesser evils on the Hitman Team. From his arc, I gather he has never actually killed anyone before, not intentionally and personally at least, else he would not have held back or stalled with Fugo and Abbacchio, respectively. Nevertheless, for someone who has less on his conscience than Risotto Nero for instance, he still seems laden with a lot of issues that he isn't able to keep under lock and key like the others do. When I said one time that he had ten times as many phobias as the others, I meant that I saw him as someone with not only a host of fears, but also an inferiority and persecution complex. I tend to take these headcanons from Stand design, and Man In The Mirror basically sounds like a cry for help: it grants Illuso autonomy and control over a space mirroring a real world space that he probably has zero control over.

I also mentioned microwave mug cuisine in several places because it's something I could see Illuso doing as a person who is trying to be self-sufficient and self-sufficient only. A pot of ragú simmering on the stove implies that there is enough to go around, while a single microwave mug cake clearly says "This is just for me." This also ties into that previous part about autonomy: with limited effort, Illuso can have control over his portions and who gets to have them. That said, I feel like he would sometimes make these in the community microwave, just to hammer it home that he has something the other could covet, but isn't sharing it. He wants to make it look that he has something desirable, even though he is perfectly aware that he is being ridiculous.

I think the same thing can also be said about his dynamics with the others, namely the anime scene of him antagonizing Formaggio. I know that it's easy and convenient to treat Formaggio as the underdog, mainly because Araki also has him express such a sentiment, but logically, he would be anything but because his Stand ability is incredibly useful for the team. Want to get inside a place undetected? He can shrink you so you can enter through a keyhole or the smallest cracks. Need to transport dead bodies, equipment or anything plundered? Shrink and pocket it all! However, Illuso happens to have a Stand that can also be used for the same purposes, as he can enter a place through a reflective surface, or banish dead bodies and other objects to the mirror world... which means that Illuso is the only La Squadra member not dependent on Formaggio, and therefore feels at ease mocking him; in a sense, he is the only one Illuso has any right to tease (excluding Pesci because it would only lead to harangues from Prosciutto, and nobody wants that.)

That's it for now, I hope you enjoyed these!

[zamanahmed]

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[commanderquinn]

Good Space Chapter 5: Stuck In The Middle With You

! i dont! keep these posts! updated! like i do! ao3!

that means you're going to find typos and shit (and possibly minor detail changes) that don't match the ao3 version! that's because im not going to bother fixing the tumblr posts until i finish good space as a whole. im only uploading them here as a backup tbh

—

master list / ao3 chapter link

—

consistent formatting? nah. in this house we believe in Convenient Formatting 🙏 rapid fire and no flashbacks again (when they start to get Super Painful later on you’ll mourn the days when i skipped them for extra fluff) we’re Zeroed In on the nerds for another hot minute. this is what happens when you get hooked on a fic by an idiot that’s more inspired by screenwriters than authors, srry ❤️

also this chapter (and probably quite a few throughout this fic) is specifically for the babes that have had to pick themselves up from the dirt after a romantic crash. i cannot tailor this in a vague way that lets anyone picking this up have their own catharsis here, right? mega impossible to one size fits all that. but what i CAN do is use the bundle of greek myth references that is ava’s concept to tell a story about regaining personal power after a total shitass tricks you into thinking youre not completely bitchin as you are ❤️

and i guess make a bunch of canadian jokes bc those are really funny to me tbh. thank you donnatella moss for the inspiration. the best accidental moose canada ever had

anyways. sit. get comfy 😌 think of the ex you reallyreallyreally wanna stab 🥰 and then go project that exact motherfucker onto alec ❤️

—

"Put it on."

"No."

"Put. It. On."

"Nope."

"It's going to look good on you."

Bucky flicks his eyes up from the news article open on his tablet. "Yes, it would."

"Great. Your head is still gigantic post-defrosting. Good thing the one I picked comes with buttons. Leave three of them undone—"

"I know how many to leave undone." That was a misstep. He knows it the second the words leave his mouth. She's going to use it as if it's compliance. It isn't.

"And I'm sure you remember how to get your arms through the holes, too. So, let's go." Natasha repeatedly taps her hand on the kitchen table, making her rings knock against the aged wood. "Make with the wardrobe change."

"I'm not wearing that, and I'm sure as hell not going anywhere," he counters blandly.

"Yes, you are. Get up."

"Eat dirt, Romanoff. I have this thing called a will of my o—"

"So, you don't want to go?"

"Correct."

"Nothing could convince you to change your mind?"

"Absolutely not."

"Who do you think is going to be more disappointed when I repeat that at the bar, Wyatt or Ava?"

Bucky's eyes close slowly. Gently. The movement is a stark contrast to the anger swirling in him, the majority of which is aimed at himself, not the Russian seeking to ruin his life. This was so easy to spot coming. So easy. And he walked right into it.

"Have you given—" Steve attempts around a mouthful of food, cutting off when Natasha hits him in the back of the head to make him stop. He takes a moment to wash down the Coco Puffs with a gulp of fresh coffee after that. "Have you given Wyatt an autograph yet? I gave him one. Super nice guy, you'll like him."

"Why is the brain trust suddenly invited to a night out?" Bucky demands. This is a fucking trap. There is no possible way that this isn't a fucking trap.

Natasha rolls her eyes at him. "We're plying them with booze to try and keep them from suing us into the ground for inflicting you on the populace. Now shut up and go change. You're not wearing those pants."

"I'm—" He cuts himself off mid-refusal. There's not a chance, not even a fraction of a percent of one, that Ava would take offense to him not wanting to go. He's told her, on multiple occasions, that he hates getting dragged out to these things. His friends are awful, and they just do this to torture him. He's not inclined to entertain that most weeks, and Ava knows that. "I don't have any other pants aside from—"

"Yes, you do."

"I'm not wearing tux pants to a—"

"The leather ones you keep for long rides."

Bucky stops, and not because Natasha just revealed knowing another secret he hasn't told her. That shit doesn't even phase him anymore. His eyes move down to the blue button-up she's trying to force him into, his lips pursing slightly. The leather pants she's not supposed to know about are worn to hell and back at this point. Heavy weathering, a hole or two at the back of the heels, more than a few deep scratches that'll become holes if he's not overly careful. Not the kind of thing that would usually be suitable for a night out. 

That button-up is new, though. Looks expensive, too. Good quality silk. It'll look more natural on him under a jacket. Less like a significant effort and more like something he got roped into. Which is precisely what's happening.

Bucky sighs deeply, looking back up at her in resignation. "I have some ground rules."

"You're allowed to have approximately one."

He looks over at Steve in frustration. The bastard shakes his head with a cackle, a fresh scoop of Puffs halfway to his mouth. "Ooohoho, no. Nah-uh. There's a captain on deck tonight, but it is not me." He stands up, chewing quickly, a big dumb smile on his stupid face. "I'm being a good boy and following her orders."

Natasha knocks on the spot of hardwood directly in front of Bucky obnoxiously. "Name your singular rule. I still have to do my hair; hurry the hell up."

Her sass reminds him that he has to figure out what the fuck he's going to do with his hair. "I'm not dancing, for starters—"

"Great. None of us will hound you about dancing; you have my word. Go get dressed. We leave in an hour, and you'll be really embarrassed if I have to drag your unconscious body through the tower." Her eyebrows raise expectantly as she stands up, looking between him and the shirt. To add insult to injury, she taps her nails along his head on her way out of the kitchen.

Steve doesn't look over from where he's raiding the fridge for another snack. "For what it's worth, she sounded excited about the invitation."

Bucky's eyes squint suspiciously. "You invited her?"

"No, Nat did," he replies far too casually. "I was just in the room when she made the call."

"See, your fuck up here is that now I know—"

"I have information you can try to weasel out of me? Thanks, Buck, I appreciate that, seeing as I'm entirely inept when it comes to interrogation and spycraft—"

"Only for the most part. Was this your push or Nat's?"

"Are you asking to be a pest, or are you asking because you need to know?"

Bucky grinds his teeth. He can say the latter, and Steve will never know the difference. "I don't need to know, but—"

"Then fuck off." He shuts the fridge door with a gentle swing and a bright smile. "I have to go get dressed. So do you." He flicks at the bun resting against the back of Bucky's head on his way out. These fuckers are always touching him, and they don't pull the Canadian routine about it. "Should do something with your hair. It looks like it has blood on it."

It probably does. His last mission was designated complete all of twenty minutes ago, and he definitely bled through some of it. Bucky can't really tell on his end; he's still coming down from the adrenaline rush. Something Natasha used to her advantage, no doubt. 

"You fuck off," he grumbles long after Steve is out of earshot.

—

"I'm completely serious."

"No, you're panickin', ya big baby."

"I mean it."

"I'd like to go ahead and remind you that I was there when you purchased most'a your wardrobe. Both times. I think I'd know if y'didn't."

"I can't wear any of that. It's one thing when it's my space—"

"You're allowed to exist in other places, ya dweeb."

"I didn't say I wasn't allowed. Just that...." Ava trails off, her nerves finally catching up to her. The argument had felt like a funny joke when she poked her head through the doorway to start it. Now it's not feeling so funny anymore. Paige is doing that awful, shitty thing where she makes sense. Leaning against the frame and glancing down at the master bedroom's carpet, Ava feels small. "I don't know. The stuff I wear to conferences is too—prim. Most of it's ballroom shit and wouldn't work, anyways. All of my usual go-to's just... It all feels... stupid."

The energy drink chugging champion that is her best friend props herself up on her elbows where she's laid out on her bed. The headband she's wearing has two miniature alien heads poking up from it that wiggle with the motion. "Well, hey there, Alec. Long time no see, ya son of a—"

"Yeah, yeah," Ava waves her hand dismissively. The reminder does knock some of the pity party out of her, at least. There was a time when she made decisions for herself and herself alone. Those were damn good years, and Ava is trying like hell to get back into the mindset. The one she proudly lived in before she let someone talk her into being ashamed of who she is. "Let my freak flag fly, whatever. I still don't have anything to wear." Nothing that doesn't feel crushingly laughable, anyways.

"What about that lace skirt you've got, the one with the swirly patterns? That one's so cute."

Ava frowns. She's not looking to get squished in hosiery tonight, which would be the only way to save herself in something that short. "For dancing?"

"Mmm. That's, ya know, that ain't a bad point. It ain't exactly built for the breeze." Paige tilts her head to the side, making the aliens go wild. Her face pinches like she's brainstorming. Then her eyes go wide with excitement. "Oh! Wear that—the, the thing!"

"Gonna need more to go on." She snaps her fingers as Paige smacks at her own bedspread.

"The wrap dress!"

"You're out of your mind," Ava laughingly insists. Now that she's caught up to her best friend's train of thought, she's almost startled. "That's—first of all, I think it's technically a sun dress—"

"Who gives a shit? Ya look great in it."

"I look—that's beside the point. It... it's not too...?"

"Too...?"

"Shit, I don't know." She folds her arms over her chest and chews her lip for a few seconds. "What do I wear with it?"

"Nothin' but heels." The smirk on Paige's face is devious.

"You know what else isn't built for the breeze? Me. I'm not looking to flash the Avengers tonight, thanks." The words make her instantly think of Bucky, shamefully enough. He's not even going to be there tonight. She's absolutely sure of it. He's told her how much it takes to convince him to go out these days.

The manic pixie rolls her eyes. "Alright. The dress, the heels, and somethin' stringy."

"How about a jacket?" Ava reasons, already turning to go back to Paige's guest room, the one that's been unofficially hers for years.

"Pick one that's sheer, ya chickenshit," she shouts down the hallway behind her.

"That's a lot of sass coming from the woman who can't look America's Sweetheart in the eye!" 

"You'll thank me when you don't wake up here!"

Ava gets hit with the mental reminder that a certain sergeant has been threatening to fly her home for over a week. She hip-bumps her unofficial door closed with a huff. 

Bucky's not going to show up tonight. 

Even if he was, the man's a serial flirt, and she's his—the primary neurosurgeon on his case. Not-flirting through his appointments has been…. She's been trying to think of it as a bedside manner. A very unprofessional bedside manner. The kind she wouldn't have the balls to admit to out loud.

Natasha didn't mention him directly during the invitation call, only his case. All she said was that the whole team was welcome, including the duct rat, Findley. No mention of other attendants. It would have been brought up if he were going to be there; Ava's sure of that. 

Natasha did mention getting Paige home on time, which was suspicious. Tomorrow is the engineer's first mission assigned to the Avengers as support, sure, but they don't seem like the type to need a pre-check. Ava's only seen a handful of SHEILD agents listed in the medical reports from Bucky's missions, and he never mentions any of them directly. She's always gotten the impression that assigned agents are an unknown hand in that machine.

If Steve ends up tagging along, she'll have her suspicions about the Russian's intent with this whole thing. She might have an ally in the fight to push her best friend that she didn't know about. 

Maybe she'll go to the tower after Paige is home safe. Ava's brought up the idea of switching to night appointments before, and she doubts Bucky would say no to a quick ten minutes on the roof. He might even stay for a while without having the excuse of leaving her to her work. 

She could pick up some late-night bagels to bribe him with. Her favorite shop closes early, but they work til midnight sometimes just for the baking process. Ava does the yearly medical work for the owner and his family without charging him. In return, he lets her sneak in after hours for cream cheese and salmon. With that and a quick stop to her office for a handful of lollipops, she's got herself some super soldier bait. 

She might not even stop to change back out of the dress. She'll grab the lab coat, though. Bucky looks more at ease whenever she has it on.

—

He wants to leave already.

It's been eighteen seconds since they coraled him through the front door. He's very proud of himself. He didn't think he'd make it to half that before the urge hit.

Bucky looks around the crowded bar with the sourest face he can muster. It's loud, it's cramped, it's loud, he's already hot enough to know he'll be sweating at some point, and it's too fucking loud. The checkpoint out front is a disaster. He's not real clear on what the standards for a bar security chief are, but that pick-up artist with the handheld, battery-powered metal detector out front doesn't fit his definition of competent. Not by a long shot.

The Avengers haven't rolled out with the full roster tonight. Tony, mercifully, is away with Pepper, Barton fucks off to god knows where, and Rhodey's as much of a workaholic as Bucky is. He tries not to think about where Thor goes. That particular can of worms is pretty full. He's still trying to get used to the fact that they've got a Quinjet that can just go to space. Whenever he—they want.

The ones that did come don't give him any shit when he breaks off to do his walk-about. They all figured out pretty early on that it's a sensitive subject. Bruce doesn't even notice him leave half the time. Steve used to do a piss-poor job of inconspicuously following him back when Bucky was primarily non-verbal. Natasha never mentions it.

The building is two stories. There's a halfway decent camera set-up that he can tap into through the wifi. No windows in the bathrooms. The roof access isn't wired with an alarm. All the emergency exits are, though. The owner's room was locked before Bucky got to it, but the staff areas are open to whoever turns a handle. They've got a round of code inspections coming up at the start of next month. They'll fail at least two of them if they don't unblock that rear door.

Sam silently checks in with an offered fist bump once he's back at the table eight minutes later. Bucky doesn't hesitate to reciprocate it. There's already a half glass of whiskey sitting on the table waiting for him. He doesn't hesitate to get his mitts on that, either.

Wyatt and Hannah show up before Ava and Paige do. It's the first time Bucky's been faced with meeting them since Ava offered that one time. She never pushed it after that. He's been meaning to get around to it. But the idea has been making his teeth buzz too much to go through with it.

Hannah is laser-focused on him from the start. She's just as conscious of it as he is, then. He can tell the moment that the realization hits Wyatt. His eyes widen with a flash of concern, his burly frame curling in on itself as if that'll make six feet of muscle look less threatening. It's almost heartwarming that he's worried about looking threatening to Bucky, of all people. The anxiety on the kid's face gets swallowed up by excitement. Seconds later, another wave of anxiety surfaces. It teeters back and forth as Hannah pushes him up to the table through the crowd.

Bucky watched Atlantis the other night after one of his nightmares took away any chance of falling back to sleep. It saved him from having to wake Steve up for a trip to the supply store. He texted Ava about it once he spotted the sun through the small gap in his blackout curtains; she was thrilled. Seeing the baby-faced brain surgeon nervously approach the table makes him understand why she compares him to Milo, not Dr. Sweet. 

Bucky's not looking to be the aggressive silent type anymore. At least not when it comes to the people working their asses off for him. He reaches out with his flesh hand, giving a reassuring half-smile to Wyatt. "Good to finally meet you, Combs."

The grin that stretches across the doctor's face looks wide enough to hurt. A stubby hand reaches out across the table for an enthusiastic shake. "It's an honor to meet you, Sergeant Barnes."

"I'll sign that journal Ava's warned me about if you promise to call me Bucky," he bribes, taking his hand back for another sip of whiskey.

"Y'mean it?" He's already headed for his patch-covered messenger bag with a hopeful look on his face. "I can use whatever makes ya comfortable. I'm not gonna make ya sign—"

"Hand it over." He glances over to where Hannah is sitting down across from Bruce. They trade an amicable nod when she makes direct eye contact again. "It's good to meet you, as well, Schuster."

"Barnes." He hears the sound of a boot being kicked under the table and watches Wyatt glare at the side of her head. She gives Bucky a strained smile. He's got a feeling it's usually strained. "Likewise."

Bucky likes her already.

As Ava warned, it doesn't take long for Wyatt to start asking about maps. He's bombarded with questions the moment he hands the journal back, with a fresh, chicken-scratch signature on one of its pages. The kid has a lot of trouble picking one at a time, and Bucky's trying not to shorten his answers out of habit. 

He keeps a mental list of the information Wyatt's most interested in. A year ago, he would have done it out of ingrained habit. Tonight it's a deliberate choice. Bucky can get his hands on records the Combs family doesn't know about. The kind they can't make a legal request for because there's no official log of it.

Ava and Paige are the last to arrive. He's too busy trying to give Wyatt more stories when they walk through the door to spot them. Steve is the first to notice their entrance, pausing mid-sentence about a mission the Howlies went on that Bucky barely remembers. Looking away from Wyatt's face, he understands why his best friend froze up. 

Good fucking god almighty. She's trying to kill him.

The doctor that haunts Bucky's dreams is walking through the crowded bar in an outfit that should be triggering the tactical analysis in his head. The analysis that, lately, only ends when his mind catches up to the fact that he shouldn't be thinking about being balls-deep in her while trying to make eye contact. It's probably—definitely inappropriate. But something about the thin, light blue fabric of her dress is shorting him the fuck out. 

It's low-cut, which is the first strike. The second is the way that split up her right leg only stops when it reaches the top of her thigh. The third—the one that really knocks him flat on his ass—is the way the whole thing is pulled in to show off her hips. The ones he'd have a lot of trouble letting go of if she ever let him put his hands on her to begin with.

He roughly swallows around nothing but air. His eyes shoot up to Ava's face, desperate to stave off his bastard mind latching onto her outfit. The last thing he needs in his head right now is a full-scale plan for laying her out on the table to unwrap that thing like a present. She's smiling at him, genuine surprise shaping most of her expression. God willing, it's about his presence here, not where his eyes were a second ago.

"They let you out of the house now?" she sasses him over the roar of the bar. Her hand folds into a fist and props high on her hip as she stops at the table's edge, her other arm linked with her best friend's.

Bucky is so fucking hopeless for her. "Yes, ma'am. But only if I get enough green stickers that week."

"In that case, thanks for behaving. I didn't think you'd be here tonight." That smile of hers is still bright as the sun. Still aimed at him. Christ, he's never been happier about Natasha ruining his life. "I'm pleasantly surprised around you, for once."

Gimmie half a chance, and I can show you every kind of pleasant surprise there is. 

If this were 1943, he'd still have the balls to say it to her. It'd be suicide to say it around his idiot friends, but he was a dumbass who wouldn't have hesitated back then. Not with someone like her. 

It's probably a good thing it's not still 1943. "If I make all the surprises annoy you, you'll tell me to stop. I have to keep you on your toes, or you'll get bored."

One of her eyebrows raises at him, entirely unimpressed. It makes him want to hold her hand. "You do understand how cool my job is, right? You're also a literal cyborg I get to poke at whenever I feel like telling you it's medically necessary. What part of that am I supposed to get bored with, sergeant?"

Bucky folds with a shy chuckle, bringing up his glass of whiskey to hide his mouth behind. "You get used to the shiny parts."

"I'm sure he'll let you add more when he busts his ass again," Sam jokes from off to Ava's left. He's staring at Bucky with an overly satisfied grin. It makes him glare over his whiskey while Ava and Paige sit down.

"Sorry we're late," Paige says, her eyes moving to Steve and her cheeks turning slightly pink. "Gettin' through Bronx traffic is always fun."

"Ordered Ryder's usual," Hannah mentions, pointing to a tall glass of ale the waiter dropped off while he wasn't looking. "Didn't know what you were in the mood for."

"Somethin' fizzy." She rhythmically taps her mismatched nails on the table, humming to herself while she glances over the drink menu. "Or maybe somethin' icey."

"I went the margarita route if you wanna go halfsies tonight," Wyatt offers, nudging his frosted glass over to her. Paige perks up and leans over for a sip.

He looks over at Steve, who's watching the interaction with the sappiest smile. It nearly makes his eyes roll. Natasha and Sam sniffed out the captain's big crush a long time ago, but it's the first time Bucky's seeing it for himself.

Neither one of them has learned a goddamn thing. Not in a hundred years.

A much more gentle nail taps right in front of his arm, dragging his eyes back to Ava while she gets herself seated. "What made you decide to come?" 

She would hit him with a question that blunt right off the bat. He tries not to notice Sam's silent laughter next to her. 

"Heard the egg heads were making an appearance," he decides to be mostly honest with.

The pleased smile on her face takes on a softer edge. She really hadn't been expecting him to show. It makes him all the more glad that he listened to Natasha. "We convinced you?"

You did. "You're surprised? I'm not about to put in the effort for these assholes."

"He only does that for our birthdays," Sam tells her, leaning into her space slyly. 

Bucky holds out his hands, mildly insulted. "And bank holidays."

Ava turns her head to offer her hand to Sam with a warm giggle. She looks so fucking good in the low bar light. With her neck muscles stretched like that, Bucky wants to kiss under her jaw just to see her reaction. "I've been hoping we'd meet again under better circumstances. Ava Ryder."

Sam barks a laugh, wrapping his hand around hers. "I'd say watchin' you hand Steve his own ass was great circumstance."

"Well thanks," Steve interjects, flipping him off before going back to drawing on a napkin with Paige.

The comment, and the gesture, gets ignored entirely. "Sam Wilson, but you can call me your favorite Avenger."

Bucky almost rolls his eyes again. Watching Ava's giggles get worse stops the urge.

—

She was wrong.

He came out tonight. To a bar. To spend time with them.

Ava takes another drink of her ale, watching the Winter Soldier over the rim of her glass. Wearing a dress that could unwind from her with a few strategic yanks on a couple pieces of string. And heels that could have paid a month of her first apartment's rent. In a New York bar.

If her parents could see her now, they'd croak.

Bucky is so goddamn attractive in his dark leather jacket that it's un-fucking-real. The bastard looks softer with his hair down like that, and there's chest hair peaking out from that button-up he's left open to a torturous degree. It keeps distracting her every time he turns to say something to Steve. His hand is the only shiny part on display at the moment. 

The glory tales from Steve don't do the heartstopping aura justice. The fact that Bucky has had the nerve to lie—to her face no less—and say they're blown out of proportion makes her seethe sitting across from him now. No wonder he was prolific; how the hell could he not be with a face like that and the attitude to back it. Now that he's not in a professional headspace, the latter is coming out in spades. The super serum body is a mouthwatering, climbable bonus.

This is the man that keeps threatening to fly her home.

Ava takes a longer drink.

She hasn't been this in over her head since college. The familiar knee-jerk reaction of bullying him is the only thing that doesn't feel petrifying. Bucky is the last person that would make her feel unsafe, but good god, the man is intimidating. Trying to find something to say to him that isn't a joke is a lot harder than usual, with him looking that good.

Paige tuned out the moment Steve gave her meticulously outlined boxes to doodle in on an unfolded napkin. He's been adding detailed frames to them ever since while the two trade work stories. It makes Ava jealous. Her best friend might be oblivious, but at least she's not the one tongue-tied tonight.

Knocking her knees together under the table, Ava leans forward and tries another round of facing down the sergeant. "Worth the trip so far?"

Way to go, moron. Pressure him, why don't you? Of course he's having a good time; he wouldn't still be sitting here if he—

Bucky smiles at her, calming her nerves without even trying. "Every second." He looks down at the glass in her hand, then back up at her face. "You havin' fun, doc?"

She misses hearing him call her doll. It's starting to feel like maybe it was an accident the handful of times it happened. He hasn't done it in days. "Unlike you, I enjoy human interaction. Plus, the hippie thing makes me partial to loud noises." And sweat. And weed to make the loud noises sound better. And men with long hair and deep voices that would sound—

"I don't mind human interaction," he argues, folding his arms on the table and leaning over with her. "I'm just picky about the people I interact with."

"Awww," Paige coos at her side. "And we made the cut? I'm honored."

"You should be," Steve confirms with a smirk, his eyes never leaving the napkin under his hand. "He's not exaggerating."

"That's unusual for him," Ava jumps on Bucky with. She regrets it right up until he snorts and briefly covers his mouth with his hand. It's a real fuck up on his end; she takes it as an all-clear to do it to him again at her leisure. "The only people I've met with bigger heads are cardiologists."

"That's the second time you've brought them up," Bucky notes. She honestly can't remember the first, but it sounds accurate. They're fun to mock.

"Nice deflection, superstar." His eyes widen a fraction at her teasing, boosting her confidence. "Have you had the displeasure of meeting one? I'm allowed to be mean to them as a neurologist, by the way. Secret doctor pecking order and whatnot."

"If I have, I probably don't want to remember," he deadpans. Steve gives him a dirty look, but it makes Ava snort. The smug look Bucky gives her in return makes her stomach flip. "I wanna hear more about this secret doctor pecking order. How far up that chain are you?"

"I don't know, man. How far up is your brain?" 

Bucky's eyes shut in pain, and he smiles. "It's so hard to be proud of your ego when your awful puns surround it."

"You'll manage," she assures in a supportive tone. 

A low whistle drags Ava's eyes to one end of the table, where Natasha is getting up. "I'm going dancing. It's up to you losers who's coming."

A majority of the table, including most of Ava's team, moves to follow. She doesn't. Bruce and Hannah don't, continuing their discussion on a medical journal he read that morning. Bucky doesn't leave either.

He watches Ava as Paige leans over to kiss the top of her head. She's pretty sure he watches her all through their short yes, I'll watch your bag check-in. He's still watching her when she looks back at him, slowly circling his glass to make the whiskey inside it swirl.

"Not a fan of dancing?" he finally asks.

"I like dancing," Ava confirms. "I just like picking on you more." The words feel outrageously bold for how innocuous they are. It's the truth, but she feels a little stupid for saying it out loud. Whatever, if it means spending the night out with him, that's fine—

Bucky puts down his glass, a determined set to his posture. "Dance with me."

Her jaw almost drops. She doesn't catch her nervous burst of laughter in time to stop it. "I—what? You? Bucky Barnes, mister touch me and die himself wants to—"

"I let you touch me all the time." The tone he uses for the blatant—

Christ, is she ever in over her head.

She ignores his flirting like a coward, racing to hide behind professionalism as fast as her mouth can get her there. "The funny thing about that is I have your willing participation—"

"You've got my willing participation for this, too." He sounds like he means it, which is the worst part. It makes it impossible to bring herself to tell him no.

She hesitates one last time, primarily out of fear of embarrassing herself. "You're sure you want to dance?"

"With you?" Bucky stands up, allowing her to see the well-worn leather sitting low enough on his hips to turn her into a bigger wreck. "Yeah, doll. I'm sure."

Hannah leans over to slide the bag Paige left behind across the table, closer to her. She doesn't bother to stop talking. Bruce is smiling from ear to ear, stealing glances at her and Bucky. He's doing a terrible job of hiding it. 

Standing up on nervous feet, Ava watches Bucky circle the table. He offers up his flesh hand when he approaches her, his signature Brooklyn smirk on his face. "Ready?"

Fuck no. She slides her hand into his, breathing deeply when he squeezes her fingers. "I really hope someone's given you the memo on modern dancing because I have no idea what the hell you people did in the 30s." 

"I'm sure you'll help me figure it out." He's sounding more confident with every word, and it's scaring the absolute shit out of her. 

It's innocent at the start. Bucky's a perfect gentleman leading her through the crowd. He spins slowly to face her when he finds them a wide enough space, pulling her in close. The pressure of his fingers is barely there when his metallic hand moves to her lower back. Ava brings both her hands up to his chest when he lets go of one of them. 

"You'll tell me if you're uncomfortable, right?" she checks again, stretching up as close to him as she can. There's no way he has trouble hearing her over the music, but she doesn't remember that until she's all but hanging off him. It makes her cheeks feel warm.

His flesh hand moves over her hip, resting on it gently. Bucky leans down and turns his head in, getting right up to her ear. He's already starting to guide the direction of her half-hearted movements. "I will. You gonna do the same?"

"I will," she promises. Mirroring his words is the only thing her brain can come up with, given how unfairly good he smells. It's obliterating every train of thought she has. 

It is… terrifyingly easy to let herself go in his arms. The movement of her hips gets more involved, following the tempo of the song and the direction of his hand. Hers go up to his shoulders, bringing him in closer a fraction at a time. By the time the song changes, she gives up and lets them wrap around the back of his neck. 

Somewhere around the third song, when the bar's DJ is trying to ramp up into a faster energy, she ends up turned away from him. Ava isn't sure how it happened. It could have been his doing; she's not paying all that much attention. All she knows is he's pressed up against her back now, the hand on her hip moving towards her leg incrementally. Her head tilts off to the side as her eyes close, letting the Winter Soldier guide her.

His fingers stop their advance once they reach the top of the gap in her dress, the one that splits up her thigh. She gives him all of thirty seconds to figure out if he's brave enough to go further on his own. Then the ego boost from having Bucky—of all fucking people—trying to make a move on her wins out over her fear. 

Ava lays her fingers on top of the hand hesitating on her leg, urging it down. 

The first touch of his skin on hers makes them both suck in a breath. She can feel the tension in him against her back. He gets over his nerves faster after that. His hand glides down the length of her thigh, and his fingers curl under the fabric when it comes back up. Not all that far, but the intent is there.

In escalating boldness, she reaches for his metal hand, dragging it to rest at the top of her ribs. His nose comes brushing across her temple at that point, giving her an idea of how close he's keeping himself around her with her eyes closed. One of her hands goes up into his hair, and that's when things really go off the fucking rails.

His thumb moves in a wide arc, dragging across the underside of one of her breasts. Her fingers curl around his hair, and her head rolls in toward him. If she tilts it up, she could brush her nose against his; that's how far into her space he is. And then the hand on her thigh moves in.

The pounding music swallows up the slight sound it pulls from her, but she's willing to bet Bucky heard it. She leans back against him, making him freeze up momentarily. He's already moving again before her mind finally pieces together the why.

He's hard, Ava realizes.

With one hand under her tits and the other getting itself further between her thighs. With her ass pressed back against him. With his towering frame curled all the way around her.

Sergeant James Barnes is hard as a rock. For her.

—

How the hell he hasn't gotten his good arm ripped off yet, Bucky's not quite sure. It feels impossible that she's just... letting him do this. 

Spinning her around really fucked him over. He had been behaving pretty well up until then. He'd even managed to hold off on putting his hand as far down her back as that fucking dress allows for. But then he'd been dumb enough to turn her, and her head had relaxed off to the side, and god, it took every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss the length of her neck.

Now she's leaning back against him, fully aware of how wound up he is, and he can't figure out where to stop. She isn't slowing down any part of his stumbling. There's no new tension in her now that she's in the know about the current state of his cock. Her hips are still fucking moving, and now they're moving against him.

She's going to kill him tonight, probably right out here on this dancefloor. He just hasn't figured out if it's going to be murder or manslaughter.

He lets his left hand get bolder, trying to test the waters one last time before he lets his right one go any further. He moves it up, his thumb brushing over her nipple. He hears her pull in a shaking breath while it skims back down the side. She doesn't stop him, making him want to bite at her neck all over again. 

With no signs of her looking for an out, and not one shred of critical thinking or self-control left in his head, Bucky slides his hand further up the inside of her thigh. Her fingers tighten in his hair, nearly pulling on it at this point. All he has to do is hike up his thumb, and he'll get more information than he's probably ready to have. She could tell him to drop to his knees right here; he's mildly certain he'd do it. 

That dress is so goddamn thin. There's no weight to it at all. He can't spot the outline of anything, but he knows from how high her tits are sitting that she's got a bra on, at least. Another inch or two up with his thumb, and he'll be able to tell for himself if she came out tonight with underwear on. He's not entirely out of the goddamn loop; he knows skipping it is a much more common practice nowadays. 

Bucky's almost hoping his favorite hippie is the type. He's spent a lot of time fantasizing about ways to get her out of them. That doesn't mean he's not going to fucking lose it if his fingers don't find a strip of fabric between her legs. 

The flash of a new fantasy hits him, one of Ava letting him pin her to the alley wall out back with his head between her legs. If he takes her around the corner, he won't have to stop when the kitchen staff come out for a smoke break. If she does have underwear on, he can leave it in her mouth to keep her quiet. Or reach up to make her bite down on his fingers. With the serum and her height, it'd work like a dream.

The curiosity becomes a burning need, driving his hand all the way up. When he first touches her, it's not with his thumb, and it's not a gentle brush. He pushes his middle and index finger along the length of her lips, coming into contact with lace that's wet.

"Fuck." The word is choked when it tumbles out of him. He's coated his hand to the thought of her so many times over by now. And here she is, pushing herself up against him and just as worked up about it.

Her hand grips his arm tight enough to bruise in reaction. She doesn't push him away. God fucking help him, she doesn't stop moving either. Still, there's something about her body language that's not sitting right in his gut. She's not pushing him away. But she's not pulling him along anymore.

That's not always a stop sign. Bucky knows that. Some people like leaving the significant steps in the hands of their chosen partner. She's silently urged him to keep going a few times already. Assuming she wants that to continue isn't out of the question. But he's not the kind of man who's comfortable with that leap. Not anymore.

He moves his hand down an inch, leaving it between her legs. Not on top of the lace he wants to bite at. If she's interested, she'll put it back. Simple as that.

Bucky waits, holding her close with his metal arm around her ribs and his nose pressed into her hair while they dance. She's hesitating now, which has him convinced he made the right call. He's not self-wallowing enough to take it as a rejection. It's not like he'd been planning for this to go anywhere near as far as it did to begin with.

Her hand pulls at his hair in a way that feels conflicted. She tilts her head up, her eyes finally opening to look at him. Yeah, there it is. Right there in her eyes. It's finally catching up to her.

"I..." she tries, her mouth opening and closing a few times. "We can...."

"We can keep going," he finishes for her, not backing off from his hold on her. "We absolutely can. Or we can head to the bar and watch them make something with a cherry on it. I'm more than comfortable with both."

He watches her chew over the offered out, her eyebrows pulling in. He doesn't push her; he's not looking to make the call for her. If she wants him to get her off right here on this dancefloor, he's pretty damn sure he'd be willing at this point, even with the threat of criminal charges. He's also ready to let go and spend the rest of the night doing something that doesn't make her look torn. Even if it means ending it early.

"We should probably go to the bar." Probably. She doesn't sound happy about it, meaning it's fueled by her professionalism. He understands why she has the line. He respects the shit out of it.

"We probably should," he agrees. He doesn't move his hands. She hasn't moved hers. 

Her eyes move down to his mouth, and fuck does that do a number on his impulse control. He hopes she doesn't feel how it makes his cock jump. Ava Ryder wants to kiss him. It feels odd to celebrate that, considering where his fingers were a minute ago, but fuck. The girl of his dreams wants to kiss him.

"Let's go to the bar." The frustration in her voice almost makes him laugh. It definitely makes him smile as he turns his metal hand over to link with hers.

"You drink anything other than ale, doll?" He lets his fingers brush over the skin of her thigh reassuringly as he pulls it back out from under her dress. She looks so mad at the world, her face scrunching under her glasses. He wants to kiss her more than he's ever wanted anything in his life.

Ava takes a deep breath that she lets out with a huff. It looks like it cools off some of the annoyance. "My answer depends on how much of a narc you are, g-man."

He puts his arm around her shoulder, dragging her in close to his side. His friends will hand him his ass over this for a month, but he's not about to let her feel rejected. He's trying to respect a boundary, not ward her off. "Lucky for you, this g-man has medical strains growing in his room at the tower."

"There's no fucking way. You're telling me the Winter Soldier grows weed?"

"Are you tellin' me you buy yours? Chump."

She snorts hard enough to feel the need to cover her mouth. It makes Bucky feel damn good being able to make her laugh again that fast. "I can't believe I'm being ridiculed about the source of my pot by a senior citizen."

He holds back on reminding her that she was about to let a senior citizen stick his hand down her panties. "Has it convinced you to give up the inaccurate jokes about my job?"

"Inaccurate, he says! Don't you have a literal badge you can shove in people's faces?" Ava doesn't lean against the bar when they reach it. She stays pressed up against him while he leans on it, distracting the hell out of him. He looks down the line of people, searching for a bartender to give himself a second to refocus. "I think that's a pretty clear-cut definition of a fed."

"I think you're trying to find out if I've got a pair of cuffs handy." This is the other problem presented with her letting him go that far; it burned through what little filter he has. Now that he knows she's interested and not just humoring him, he's fucked. Hearing his own words still makes him wish he'd shut his damn mouth.

He hears her laugh in surprise again, but he's not brave enough to look at her yet. There's a momentary lull filled with the sounds of rowdy New Yorkers kicking off their weekend. Then he feels her head lean against his arm. "Something tells me you could improvise without them."

It's manslaughter. She's trying for manslaughter. By god, she's going to accomplish it if she says some shit like that again.

"I can improvise whenever you need me to." He finally looks back at her, catching her ogling his chest. Again. Her cheeks are a few shades darker. It's good to know he's not the only one reeling. "You should answer my question first, though. Unless you're looking to put in the order."

Her eyes finally flick up to his, and her smile turns shy before she looks away. "Surprise me. I burn more than drown. I'm sure you can think of a fun option to entertain me with."

Bucky should have guessed she'd give him a run for every cent he earned back when he still had his mojo. It feels like he's trying not to trip over himself while she's still getting warmed up. "One entertainment, comin' right up."

She gives him a look, doing a lousy job of holding back her amusement. "You don't get to complain about my puns if you're going to tell dad jokes like that."

"You're just jealous that mine are better." He finally flags down a bartender over her shoulder, throwing out an order for two Mai Tais. The only other cocktail he can think of off the top of his head is a Sex on the Beach, and he sure as shit doesn't have the balls to order that in front of her at the moment. A Moscow Mule is not a cocktail in his eyes. It's also not the kind of inappropriate he's looking for.

Ava's finger hooks into his front pocket, threatening to ruin every effort he's made toward getting his cock to calm the fuck down. "Some of your jokes are pretty great; I'll give you that. The dry ones make my day."

It feels backwards—and mildly alarming—to hesitate to brush her hair behind her ear for a moment. A few minutes ago, he'd been ready to go down on her in front of a room full of people. Now he's trying to find the nerve to touch her at all. Doing so gets easier when her eyes slip closed at the feeling of his fingertip moving down the side of her head. 

"Seeing you makes my day," he murmurs, not caring about letting his mouth run. It feels less intimidating in the wake of her compliment. God knows it's going to sit in his head. Probably forever. The fact that she probably can't hear it over the music certainly doesn't hurt.

Her eyes open back up slowly, with her smile taking on a wicked edge. "You feel like showing me your stash, old man?"

—

They haven't talked about it.

It's been less than an hour since they stopped dancing. In under sixty minutes, Bucky managed to get them a drink and all the way through Manhattan to the Avengers Tower. On a Friday, no less.

No wonder they threaten to revoke his license. Ava thought she was a speed freak behind the wheel. Now that she's got firsthand experience as his rear passenger, Bucky being allowed to have a motorcycle makes her question SHIELD more than ever.

He let her go up to the roof without him. He made it sound like he was doing her a favor by not making her go out of her way just to raid his stash with him. She's guessing it's got more to do with not being down for a surprise tour of his space. It's not as if she's going to fault him for it. 

The idea that she's actually going to let him fly her home after this is already hitting her nerves. If that's throwing her off, she has no clue where she's going to find the will to bring up the subject of—this. Tonight. What happened.

How far she was about to let it go.

He smells too good. She's decided to blame it on that, at least in her head. Mainly to make herself feel better about crossing that many ethical boundaries. It's easier than accepting that she was about to give a patient the go-ahead to finger her in the middle of a bar. Without so much as a word about it beforehand.

Ava pushes her hands under her glasses to hold her face, resisting the urge to scrub at it. She doesn't want to fuck up her makeup. Not while she still has to face Bucky. How stupid—and then she doubled down—god, now they're here, and he's getting weed—

"I was starting to think I'd never get you up here, doll."

The way his voice quells her anxious mind without any effort at all ties her stomach in a different kind of knot. She lowers her hands into her lap, giving him a half-smile. "I'd like to remind you that I'm the one who offered initially. And again tonight."

Bucky waves his free hand dismissively, his flesh one cradling a bag. "Semantics." He dumps it onto the wicker table she picked out herself. She hears glass hit metal, the sound muffled by the black cloth of the bag. "I didn't know if you were a bowl or a joint kinda gal. Figured I'd come prepared since I'm dealing with a degenerate commie."

"Steve was right about your manners," Ava insists, reaching out to open it with greedy fingers. She kicks her heels off under the table, getting distracted by the sight of him shaking his leather jacket off his shoulders. The man's tall enough to have to duck under the makeshift canopy built to account for Wyatt's height. "Tell me how many words you know for pot while I judge your choices."

"Are you forgetting they took me out for walks every few years?" Bucky walks around to her side and puts his jacket over her shoulders, surprising her. She looks up at him with a shy smile, momentarily forgetting the promise of weed picked out by a super soldier. He's such a gentleman that it's frankly obnoxious. One of his eyebrows raises at her. "Those walks included the 60s, young lady. I probably know more than you do."

"What do you remember about the 60s?" she goads as he sits down next to her.

"Plenty." Bucky props his arm up on the back of the couch, leaning into her space. She's grateful for it. Even with his jacket around her, it's freezing up here. The added warmth isn't the only reason she's grateful for it. "Personally, though, I think you would have had a better time in the 70s." He tilts his head back and forth a few times. "At least the parts of it I fucked around in."

The mental image of the Winter Soldier undercover in some sleazy disco hits her like a ton of bricks. It feels wildly inappropriate, even with him talking about it that openly. All the fantasies she has of Bucky do. Especially the ones she uses to get herself off lately. 

"I'm going to take your word for it," she murmurs. There's so much potential there to poke at him. He's offering up the bait on his end. Hell, there's still the list of weed names to dig for. But she can't get her mind to latch onto any of it with him this close.

He nudges his chin in the direction of her hands, which are still hovering in his little heap of paraphernalia. "You should start us up so I can get you home at a reasonable hour. I don't know how fast you like to—smoke."

It's astounding how good he is at riding the line between being a gentleman and a terror.

Ava looks back down at her hands with a smile. "That depends on the accuracy of your warning about this couch-locking me. Technically I'm off tomorrow, so I'm not about to say no."

"Do you smoke medicinal strains?"

"On occasion. I started for anxiety, oddly enough. Then I noticed it helped with my mood overall." She shrugs, setting aside his box of hemp papers. There's a heavy-looking grinder and two different pipes further in. One of them's a goddamn steamroller. He sticks with quality from what she can see so far. "I feel like there's a bong that was held back from this collection."

"There's a lot that was held back. I'm not gonna parade all my ill-gotten goods through the tower." His pauses while she gets the last of it emptied out." You gonna show me how it's done or put me to the test?"

"Definitely the latter." She turns her head to smile at him innocently, pushing her glasses up her nose. It makes his lips twitch. "I don't see anything to assist rolling. Does that mean you're confident enough to show me your handiwork?"

Bucky scoffs, his expression becoming entirely unimpressed. He almost looks offended, leaning over to grab the papers and the grinder. "You're telling me you people need tools these days? After all the work I put into teaching Captain America how to do it properly?"

Ava's brows shoot up in shock. "You're fucking kidding. I figured the weed was a new development—"

"Nah, I've been smoking since my first job." He's not watching his hands much as he lays out the foundation of his work. He's primarily watching her. "Worked for a guy that owed a corner store. He had family that ran a not-so-secret farm." He turns the grinder lid enough to loosen it, then flicks it to spin it the rest of the way off with a cocky grin. "I was an outstanding employee. So was Steve once I got him hired."

"America's Sweetest Stoners," Ava coos, making him chuckle. He's not stingy about what he's rolling for them. It makes her wonder how many plants he's got set up. "Do the two of you still smoke together?"

"He doesn't bother much. Takes a lot to build up any kind of buzz with our systems, so he looks at it the same way he does drinking at this point. He still shows up whenever Banner drops off some new hybrid monstrosity for me to try." Bucky glances over at her quickly, his fingers never stopping their work. "This is from one of the normal plants, don't worry. I won't start you off that far in the deep end."

Ava shrugs. Banner's main lab is here in the tower, so there's no chance the process isn't documented. JARVIS wouldn't let her use anything that could do her actual harm. "You can if you want, but you're responsible for explaining to Tony why I'm passed out on his roof."

He gives her the most insulted look. "I wouldn't leave you up on the roof. I'd be enough of a gentleman to carry you inside."

He's ruining her life. There's no way she's going to be able to walk away from tonight without being completely wrapped around his finger. It makes her smile at him like a hopeless fucking moron. "I believe you."

Bucky brings the most well-balanced joint she's ever seen up to his mouth, licking it closed in one smooth stroke. His eyes never leave hers. It makes her swallow. The fucker smirks at her and twirls the joint between his fingers, holding it out for her inspection.

"Well?" he prompts, watching her intently as she plucks it from his hand. He's preening. Waiting for his praise.

Goddamn him, she's going to have to give it to him. The joint is so perfectly rolled it's mesmerizing. Even distribution, not pulled overly tight, and meticulously sealed. She can't remember the last time she managed to do a job half that good. Bowls have always been her go-to. It's clear that this is his.

Ava giggles at the absurdity of it all. It feels surreal to be a step away from lighting up with a cyborg PoW she first read about in primary school. "You're such a dork. Shut up and hand over the lighter before your head explodes from being over-inflated."

"Now I know I did a damn good job by today's standards." For the second time that night, she gets the overwhelming urge to kiss Bucky as he reaches for the lighter. She props the joint between her lips to distract herself and lets him light it for her when he silently offers. The flame does stunning things to the color of his eyes in the dark. "You only tell me to shut up when you're really impressed with me."

She doesn't miss that he waited until she started inhaling to make the point. It makes her roll her eyes in exasperation. Ava can tell from the first drag that his shit is going to hit harder than her usual. She turns her head to blow it away from his face, handing back the joint. He tucks it between his fingers and brings it up to his mouth in one smooth motion.

"Now look who's outright lying. I tell you to shut up for various reasons." The muscles in his neck look unfairly good when he turns to exhale. It makes her want to run her tongue up his throat. She looks back up at his face. Everything below his chin is hazardous to her health at the moment. "I don't remember any of them being because I was impressed until now."

His eyes flick back to hers, then down to her mouth as he smiles. His hand was up her dress. It was between her legs only an hour ago. And yet watching him stare at her mouth still feels obscene. "You've got a real funny way of stroking my ego, doll."

"I get the feeling you enjoy it," Ava counters, snatching the joint from his fingers. "I wouldn't do it otherwise. You're always welcome to suggest an alternative."

"No, thanks. I'm a pretty big fan of what you do to me." 

Damn. Him.

Yes, the question was a check-in. Yes, she was trying to get a read on how far he wants this to go. Then he had to go and double down without hesitation. She knows by now what door he's trying to invite her through. 

Ava is so not brave enough for this conversation. It's not—it's complicated. She really shouldn't be working on his case if they're going to go down this road, at least not as his primary surgeon. She'll have to pass it on to Hannah and have a few very embarrassing conversations with a handful of people. Ones that involve fessing up to wanting to fuck Bucky Barnes.

She's not saying no. But she's not brave enough to say yes. At least not tonight, up here on the roof.

Ava leans back against the couch, feeling his arm curl in around her shoulders. "Good. Let me know if that changes."

—

u dont get to yell at me for the edging, i warned u that im gonna leave an * on smut chapters. anything less than Full Fuckin aint gettin the badge 😤 i have a Standard to uphold in this house of sin

(tho if anyone feels there shoulda been a warning tag for smthing you can always lemme know bb 💞)

also ill never be able to properly articulate how much i love writing cranky old fart bucko. heartstopper is stupid fun, feral trauma man keeps me on my toes, but stick-shaking geezer mode??? mr. “kids these days with their MEMES” himself??? beautiful. fantastic. superb. his final form, truly 🤌 i yearn to write more of it

anyways there are writers on the internet that can make their slow burn wholesome. in all my years on this space rock of ours, ive never been one of them

even if i do write the longfic of the sunshine dweebs steve and paige, that probably wont be all that wholesome of a slow burn either ajdhdskjfdjsjf. they ARE my tooth rotting fluff ship tho. mmm okay so maybe paige is a tragedy in disguise but its ME so thats expected 😌 the babes that like their romance extra sappy and cutesy take a lotta shit and deserve a Safe Space and steve rogers fits that bill, imho

bucky is for the babes that like to verbally get their hair pulled before hearing ily 🥰

the good news is, i get a few more chapters in this fic to torture you with before i let bucko and ava do the Big Sin (not murder, the other one. no, not hand holding, the other other one) 😌💖💞

also PieAnnamay's comment reminded me that i never linked my fav buckaroo fic, safe with me!!! for anyone else that hasnt stumbled upon bitsandbobsandstuff, i cant recommend them enough. i HIGHLY encourage you to go read through all their works while you’re waiting for updates on this, the bucky and steve fics are 😫🤌 perfection (i promise when i finally have a day to really do tumblr stuff, ill make a list of my fav fics/writers in my pinned post. i promise i will try to get to it Soon, i still havent even caught up on chapter posts there asldhfsadf)

❤️ https://archiveofourown.org/works/13798047/chapters/31721565

[miekasa]

any spare levi headcanons tonight????? 😁😁😁😁

Sure, why not, he is the love of my life after all. These are pretty random, and fit in some sort of generalized modern boyfriend au. Hopelessly domestic, as that is the nature of nearly everything I write for Levi, anyway. Also still terribly obsessed with the idea of him with a motorcycle, so there’s that.

He owns at least six black blazers. They’re nearly identical; slight differences in texture and cut, one with lapels, one that’s boldly all leather that you swear you’ve never seen him wear. They’re kind of his go-to staple, other than a sweater.

That being said, he doesn’t exclusively wear all black. His closet leans towards more neutrals, sure, but he’s not allergic to color. You might not catch him wearing neon orange on the average day, but he’s not averse to a nice shade of green, any shade of purple that suits his mood, even a softer pink.

He has towels and rags he sets aside especially for you when he comes over. He always washes them and put them back in place when you leave so that they’re ready to go for next time.

Claims to not have any attachment to the shows/dramas you watch, but he’s totally backseat watching. Halfway into every single series, he starts sitting down when you turn it on, and scoffs at dumb decisions the characters make.

He splurged on one of those frame TVs that look like a painting when they’re idle. It was a good investment in his opinion.

He doesn’t hate Starbucks drinks—there’s worse things out there in terms of quality of tea. What he despises about the establishment is the way they call out names for you to pick up your order. He’s learned that mobile order ahead is the way to go.

Has slippers for around the house, so consequently, you have slippers for walking around his house. He keeps both pairs (and a few extra for friends and guests) tucked neatly beside the door for easy access; yours always go next to his.

Does not understand the purpose of a robe. Buy him one tho and he will suddenly find an excuse to wear it: making breakfast, lounging around watching TV, doing some light cleaning and dusting. It’s comfy, alright, he can admit that much.

The little puppy you got him that he swore he was not going to warm up to now gets the royal treatment. The best doggie goods and treats, top rated shampoos, cutest drying towels, even a miniature couch he constructed just for the pup. They’re best friends, there’s no breaking that bond now.

Speaking of the puppy, affectionately named Captain, Levi can be found walking him every day shortly after work. They have a few different routes, but they always pass by the local vendors/market, who enthusiastically anticipate their appearance every day. Some of the older ladies running stands have even taken to bringing a few treats with them for Captain—after bundling up some goods for Levi, too, of course.

Captain also has a special doggy backpack Levi uses for when he’s on his motorcycle. If you follow anybody on TikTok in his area, you’re bound to see at least one video of the pup while Levi’s out riding. He’s become viral on social media without even knowing it.

(When you show him a video someone posted of him and Captain with well over 100k likes, and a million views, he only rolled his eyes. But remembers that particularly day; remembers the folks had a kid who politely asked to pet the dog, so he let him. He also maybe asks you to send the link to him).

On the subject of the motorcycle, there was a good few weeks he wouldn’t let you on it. Always found an excuse, a smart reply that was punctuated with gentle push on your forehead and calling you too clumsy for it. Later, you found out it’s because he’d ordered you a helmet; didn’t want to risk you riding without one.

He always keeps it in the storage compartment should he make a stop to pick you up while he’s riding; and he usually wears at least two layers to have a spare to wrap you in before you get on.

When he cooks, he always makes sure there’s enough for leftovers and/or to give you some later. He also bakes frequently, and at least once a week, he stops by with some kind of treat for you—“Trying out a new recipe, let me know if you think it’s missing anything.”

On the subject of food, he won’t police what you eat to annoying extent; he knows that not everybody has the time or will to make pasta from scratch like he does. But, he will smack your wrist if you consider ordering fast food when you’re over at this place. Give him 30 minutes and a single pan, he’ll make something much better than whatever you can find on Uber Eats.

Really, though, he doesn’t mean to obnoxious about the homemade food thing, it’s more habit for him. Growing up, he had to learn to be resourceful, so buying fast-food isn’t ever at the forefront of his mind. Cooking for you also turns out to be something somewhat intimate that he enjoys, so just let him.

Once bought an Apple Watch because he liked the look of them, it wasn’t insanely expensive like other high end watches, and it could connect to his other devices, so why not? A week later he returned it, the ping of his notifications were in one too many places for his liking.

You tried to convince him to keep it—“At least for when you’re jogging! It can track your activity and calories!”—but he clicks his teeth. He’ll survive without keeping track of them.

He learned the hard way that jogging with Captain is no good. His legs are too tiny and Levi ended up carrying the puppy the entire time. Captain is more of a walk dog… or ride on the back of his bike dog.

If you changed anything in his phone settings—like the ringtone for you contact, or the sound his keyboard makes—he wouldn’t go back in and try to figure out how to reset it. Unless it was something obnoxious, like adding an autocorrect shortcut to say something lewd.

He doesn’t really listen to music when he’s just walking. When he’s on a run, that’s fine, but he somewhat prefers to just… hear the environment around him when he’s on a stroll or a break from work. The only reason he’d have headphones on in public is to take a phone call, but even then, he’d prefer to wait until he’s somewhere more private.

He likes having you over at his apartment and has contemplated asking you to move in. He doesn’t want to rush anything, though, so he’s content with your sleepovers for now. (Though he really cannot fathom that you call them “sleepovers” like you’re 14. Please).

He speaks to his mother at least once a week, and she always asks about you. Levi tells her that you’re fine, gives her small updates about you, but Kuchel really just wants to know when the wedding is. He pretends to be busy whenever she starts asking and conveniently ends the call.

Occasionally, he’ll stop by and take you out for lunch. Depends on how much time he has during the day for himself, but he always enjoys sharing a meal with you.

Whenever you’re out with your friends drinking, Levi will pick you up. Even if you already told him that you’d Uber home; as soon as you text him that you’re going to leave soon, he’s already on his way.

He makes pretty good cocktails himself. Teases you for running his alcohol supply dry when the truth is he has more of your favorites in his cabinet than his own. He secretly likes the way you flirt with him when you’re tipsy.

You don’t always cuddle on top of each other when you sleep together. You can just lay by each other and that’s enough; but sometimes, you catch Levi turning towards you in his sleep, reaching for your hand. His body seems to search for yours subconsciously, and you swear there’s a hint of a smile on his sleeping face when you put your hand within reach.

Do not try to pay for dinner when you’re out with him. He’ll pull the “I’m going to use the restroom” move and pay the bill behind your back if he needs to. Open your own doors, maybe; pull out your own chairs, sure if you want; but not this.

He flosses very diligently every night. Mostly because he fucking hates the dentist, so if he takes the extra steps and is extra careful with his teeth, he doesn’t have to go as often, right?—Wrong, it’s the one time the roles are reversed, and you and Hange have to wrestle him into the doctor’s office.

On the flip side, if there are any doctors you routinely avoid and/or forget to schedule check ups for, fear not, because Levi will do it for you. He’ll drive you there, too—the only caveat being, that he usually doesn’t tell you where you’re going until you’re almost there. You think he’s doing the mysterious man surprise date thing and then boom, he’s pulling up to the ophthalmologist. Good luck.

He’s purchased a physical, paper copy of the news on every one of your anniversaries, birthdays, and other special occasions. He keeps them all neatly tucked away in a drawer. Sometimes, he looks back on them—sees what was happening in the world around you on that day. Maybe someday he’ll cut them up and bind them together in a book for you.

He doesn’t like having headphones in when you’re home with him, and preferred if you didn’t either—unless it was for work or school. He welcomes you to use his speakers and play your music aloud; he likes listening to what you listen to. If you look closely, you can catch him humming along or tapping his foot when he really likes a song.

Saves pictures you send him in an album in his camera roll. Occasionally can be found scrolling through them—particularly if you’ve been away on a trip, or he hasn’t gotten the chance to see you because of conflicting schedules.

He takes relatively short showers and doesn’t have a strong preference for the water temperature, so he lets you shower first. Unless you want him to join you, of course.

It’s not hard to tell when Levi wants you. He becomes noticeably more touchy, even if that margin isn’t too wide by anyone else’s standards; and he rarely tries to hide it. It only happens in the privacy of your apartments; but he’ll come on to you—leaning a bit further into conversations, a hand on your knee, a kind of cloudy look in his eyes.

Sometimes he forgoes the attempts at being subtle, just kisses you out the blue, carefully backs you up against the wall, puts his hands on your hips. He can be awfully direct when given the opportunity.

[bibbykins]

Penumbric Commitments (M)

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!! I wrote this up real quick yesterday, so please forgive any lacking in quality, but I had the idea and absolutely sprinted with it! I hope you all enjoy and look forward to the next full length fic I post, which I gave a not so little hint in here to!

Warnings: 18+, unhealthy relationship, manipulation, yelling, rough sex, light bondage, the usage of a belt as wrist restraints (consensual), brief fingering, male cumming inside, talking about not wanting a child, daddy kink, threatening to leave, offering to kill someone, semi-graphic talks of killing someone

Word count: 3.8k

Genre: Soft Yandere, Mafia! Au

Summary: Hindsight says Namjoon so easily complying with not having children was too easy considering his position in the business and the nightmare his parents had readily become. What you didn't realize was how far Namjoon was willing to prove to you he meant what he said that day: all you both ever need is each other.

Note: this is a canon drabble apart of the Silhouetted Bonds fic linked here

It's times like these that you regret getting a traditional clock. The ticking was incessant and daunting. It felt like it was getting closer and closer to your ear with the deafening silence it was slicing through. Analogs had to be the way to go, or better yet, none at all. The last thing you needed right now was a reminder of how much time has been spent at this table. Namjoon had sprinted home the moment his mother called him after your meeting with her. 

----

"Mrs. Kim, always a pleasure." You shook the older woman's hand with a tight smile. 

She returned yours with an equally fake smile, "Please, you know you can call me mother." She chided, but nevertheless you stayed silent as you sat back down at the table in your home. It used to be mom.

It was 8 a.m. your mother in law wanted to meet, so to be petty, you stated 9 a.m. would be great. It's a shame that your relationship with her came to this, but truthfully, it was far from your fault.

While in the beginning she had been like a mother to you, things quickly took a steep downturn the moment Namjoon reintroduced you into his life. The woman who had once been lively, rebellious, and took charge became a demure, stoic, and merely content wife. She had given you talks about your duty as the wife of the boss and the expectations she expected you to fulfill nowadays as opposed to telling stories of her youth and teaching you how to bake eccentric treats. She had even admonished you for leaving Namjoon, an idea she gave you really. Since then, she had always stated your allegiance to the business and your own husband had yet to be proven in her eyes. The notion struck you to only provide her with business professional talks.

You had always known her and Namjoon's father had been a marriage of convenience, but there seemed to be intense love between them, at least at one point. You're not sure when that collapsed in your absence, and sure you felt bad,but you did not care for her patronizing tones. If Namjoon wouldn't retaliate, she almost definitely would've had you killed the moment you decided to leave her precious son. 

"Now, I understand you're a busy woman, so I'll be chaste." She spoke as she took her seat, giving you a pointed look, "Do you feel as though you've made up for your betrayal?" This was obviously a trick question in her eyes, the simple answer being no.

However, you couldn't care less, "I have never betrayed anyone close to me, including Namjoon, if that's what you mean." You met her eyes with valor, "I don't see why you feel the need to ask such a silly question each time I see you." 

She laughed humorlessly, "Maybe I'm hoping for the right answer to cross your stubborn mind." Truly, if Namjoon didn't love and cherish his parents so much you would've told her to fuck off and mind her business, maybe focus on her own shitty marriage, by now. Alas, Namjoon was a people pleaser and fiercely intent on being a filial son.

"You mean your answer to the question about how I feel?" You raised a brow, "Even when apart from Namjoon, I took no other man. I've never even lied to Namjoon, I've been nothing but an honest and hardworking wife after forgiving his own shortcoming in honesty." You watch her fist clench in her lap at the suggestion of her precious boy having a shortcoming of any sort, "A shortcoming well remedied, seeing as I'm still here." You chided lightly in spite of the heavy tension. You pitied your staff in this moment for having to watch this battle of wills.

"Sometimes husbands lie to… protect, their wives." She struggled to find the right words as she regurgitated what Namjoon's father undoubtedly told her one too many times. Misery loves company, and goodness, did she want you to be as miserable as her.

You returned her fake smile two fold before speaking, "That's lovely, but I don't need protecting from my husband, I need trust, honesty, respect." The final word made her back straighten, "I'd like to live in reality with him, not be shielded from it, but I respect what you wish for your own marriage, but this is what I like for mine." 

She hummed in faux thought, "Very well, I can leave you to reflect on what marriage should be, you're still so young." You fought the urge to roll your eyes, "However, you're not that young…" This was a new addition, "When will I be receiving a grandchild?" 

Your brows furrowed. Namjoon told you she took the news of no grandchildren quite well. He told you that she was informed of your no children rule mere days after you spoke the words. The radio silence on the topic of children each time you met with either of his parents confirmed much for you, and you had even found yourself quite proud of him for standing his ground with you. Surely, his parents are not nearly old enough to be so forgetful.

This was the first question in a while that made you falter, and you could see the satisfaction she gained from it, "Grandchildren? I'm unsure what you-"

"Namjoon told me the last time I visited him in prison, you wanted to wait for your fifth wedding anniversary before trying for children, isn't that coming up quite soon?" She raised a brow and you felt your heart shatter. 

He lied to you. Again. He lied to you mere moments after you were ready to forgive him for lying to you the first time.

You let out a bitter laugh, "He did now?" She nodded and you shut your eyes for a moment, "It seems I've been made a fool of again." You sighed before looking as confusion crossed your mother-in-law's features, "I told Namjoon the very last time I visited him in prison that I did not want kids, ever."

"You know that's not possible for him, he's a successor." She laughed at your boldness.

"You know that he is an adult man with 6 brothers, biological or not, who will all marry one day, surely one of them will adopt or have a child." She scoffed at this, "I got my tubes tied years ago." This wiped the smile off her face.

"Does Namjoon know about this?" She snapped and you nodded with a bitter smile.

"He accompanied me to the appointment for moral support." You shot back.

"Well, your tubes can be untied and-"

"No." You deadpanned.

"No?" She mimicked in disbelief.

 "If Namjoon requires a child, he will also require a new wife." Your voice was cold and you watched shock settle into the woman across from you, "With his habit of lying coming to light, he may have to find a new wife regardless."

She stood, "Don't be-"

"Please, do not waste your breath on orders I will not be following." You held your hand up to silence her.

"I'll call Namjoon, he can talk this out with you, so you can see things our way." She tried to sound reassuring as one of your staff rushed to see her out respectfully when you did not budge from your seat.

You stayed seated at the mahogany table, staring at your wedding ring. You didn't want to get a divorce. You loved Namjoon, more than anything, and yet, did he love you more than anything?

----

You're not sure how long you stayed there, questioning everything, but it was enough time for Namjoon to come home. He ripped the door open, eyes searching frantically, ready to make sure you had not already left him before his eyes landed on your figure. From there, he took his seat across from you at the table and waited until he could no longer take the silence.

"Are you going to say anything?" Your husband's voice was calm, although fear was evident in his timbre.

You sucked your teeth and shrugged, continuing to look at your freshly manicured nails, "What's there to say?" Your voice was short, as if you were already tired of the conversation before it could even start, "You lied to me."

Your husband dropped his head into his hands and sighed, "Junebug, I'm sorry, I-"

"You embarrassed me, again." You look at him for the first time all night with a sharp glare, "Are you trying to find an excuse to divorce or do you just not care about me?" 

"Neither!" His head shot up and he met your eyes with deep regret when he realized you were looking at him with the anger and hurt he found you with all this years ago, "I love you, more than anything-"

"Obviously not!" You snapped, "Do you have any idea how it feels to explain to your shitty and judgy mother in law that, in spite of what her precious son said, you had no plans to have children, that you got your fucking tubes tied?!" Namjoon sighed, either in shame or pain, "Were you just hoping that would come around? That I'm such a fickle woman that I don't mean what I say?" 

His brows furrowed, "No, if I thought that, why did I let you get your tubes tied?!"

"Let me?" Your voice was mockingly soft, "You let me, huh?" You cocked your head slightly and he closed his eyes in frustration, "How fucking charitable of you, my sweet husband, master of the fucking house, to let your dumb little wife make a choice for her body!" You stood, "How considerate of you to play supportive husband only to fold the moment your mother asks you a question-"

"You know what my duty as the only son is!" It was his turn to raise his voice, but he immediately regretted it as he saw your eye twitch.

"And you knew my stance on kids before you got out of prison." You seethed, "You know why I don't want a fucking kid, nor do I plan to fold on my stance, because I'm all I've got left there." Namjoon's mouth parted slightly before he pressed his lips together.

"It's not my fault you don't want a kid because you'd be a bad mother just like your own." The words left his mouth before he could even begin to consider the repercussions. He was about to open his mouth again to back track wildly, but it was far too late as you took a step back, the weight of his words being too much to take from across the table.

He watched hurt consume your irises for only the second time in his life, the first time being mere hours before you left him for years, before you made him promise to never betray you like that again as a condition for you to come back to him. A condition that he evident did not adhere to in your eyes. "Do you want to know what made my mother such a bad mother?" He watched as the embers of rage within your eyes were only stoked by his reflection in your pupils, although he could see a thin layer of moisture begin to build up, pain, "You know, like I would be?" Your words were almost mocking as he stayed eerily still, "An unsupportive, isolating, and shitty sorry excuse for a fucking husband." Your word hit him like a truck.

Unsupportive. Isolating. Sorry excuse for a husband.

You weren't wrong right now. He felt shitty. He knew he should've just stood his ground. His parents didn't matter if it meant losing you, "I didn't mean that, what I said about-"

"You're right." A tear fell and he felt his heart shatter, "So if you want a kid, it'll have to be with someone else."

"I don't want anyone else, I never have!" He made his way to you as you weakly stepped back, "You're all I need." His voice was soft as he went to grab your hand, but you pulled away.

"You said that last time." Your tears were beyond your control as you wiped at them in vain, "You said that mere days before you told your mom that we were going to have kids and you told me your mom took the news well." You sniffled, "You lied to me, I can't believe that you lied to me and let me just walk around like a fool believing you, again!" 

He was stunned silent again. You were right. He had lost his back bone under the strict gaze of his parents and folded under pressure. He betrayed you, and all he could do was hope for your forgiveness.

You shook your head as he remained mute, "I need some time." You went to walk past him and to the door but he engulfed you in a hug, "Namjoon!" You struggled weakly to pull him from you but froze when you heard a sniffle.

"Please, don't go." He begged as he held you close, "I can't lose you again, I'm so sorry, please."

You fought sobs from escaping your mouth, "You lied to me, and your mom-"

"I'll kill her if you want me to." He spoke and your blood ran cold at his tone. He was serious, "My mom and my dad, I'll tell them we're not having children and if they can't handle that, they can leave us alone or die."

Your eyes were wide, tears frozen in time. Namjoon loved his parents. He was always a kid intent on surpassing their expectations, and he had made that clear to you when you started dating in highschool. You were his only sign of rebellion. He was intended to marry a woman from an affluent family, but he met you. You had figured that would be where his rebellion ended, but here he was, handing his parent's hearts in your hands and awaiting orders.

"Joonie, y-you can't mean-" You sputtered to reason but he only held you tighter.

"Or even if you just want me to kill them, I will, with my own hands of course, nobody else can know." His remained headstrong in his resolve, stroking your hair, "I don't care what I have to do to keep you with me." He kissed the top of your head, "You are the only person, the only thing on this Earth that matters to me I cannot live without you." 

A sick, and extremely twisted part of you wanted to call your mother-in-law and say, "Hah!" You wanted to rub it in her face that her son, in spite of everything, chose you. Her precious boy has been yours for years now. However, your sanity slipped through the cracks as you shook your head again.

"You love your parents." You shook your head as you cried into his chest, "And if you felt that way, why would you lie to me?"

He sniffled, "I was weakened, not 100% sure you would truly accept me with open arms and I panicked when they asked." He sighed, "I know it's pathetic and I know I seemed like I knew we would make it, but I didn't know that. They never brought it up after that so I naively thought they would forget and when they asked me again, I would tell them the truth and-"

"You're so stupid." You cried harder into his chest and felt him nod, "If you're scared to face your parents, tell me, and we'll do it together." You were surely ruining his dress shirt, but he stroked your hair soothingly, "Your mom has been calling me a shitty wife for years and after today, she must truly believe it, and I-I should take some time-" Namjoon held you, arms sliding down your body as he got down to his needs and you felt your heart drop, and you gasped, "Stop, don't-" 

You tried to help him up but he grabbed your wrists as he looked up at you with tear stained cheeks and eyes as wet as yours, shaking his head at your frantic protests as he kissed your hands and your wedding ring tenderly, "I can't lose you again." His voice was weighty with sorrow at the thought of you being away from him, "You matter more to me than my duty as a successor does, than my parents do, even more than this whole fucking business." He rubbed his cheek against your hand in desperation as you stood frozen from the shock of Namjoon begging on his knees with the utmost humility. The most powerful man in the city, undoubtedly the country as well, was on his knees crying and begging you to stay, "If killing my parents is what I have to do to prove it, I will. Name how you want it done, when you want it done, and I'll do it." He was dead serious and he could tell you knew it as tears spilled onto your cheeks even more, "You're a better wife than I deserve, and all I can ever hope is to be even a fraction of the husband you deserve, and I'm sorry I've been missing the mark." This made your face twist in pain, regret. Namjoon, up until today, had been nothing short of perfect, and even now he was making up for it, "Almost losing you nearly killed me, and-and I get that sometimes people need time to calm down but I would just prefer you beat the shit out of me instead-"

"I didn't mean that either!" You cried out as you sunk down to your knees to hug the sobbing man before you, "You aren't a sorry excuse for a husband, you're just a goddamn idiot, and I didn't want time I just didn'twant to see your stupid face because I was so angry." You laughed as he did for a moment, "Above all else, you're an amazing husband. I love you, always have, I just hate when you lie-" Your voice in his ear was like heaven as he felt a weight lift of his shoulders.

He grabbed your legs to wrap around his waist before you could properly settle onto your knees. He held you close and he soothed your cries, "I haven't lied to you since, I can promise you that." He sighed and you scoffed, "You don't have to believe me. I'm just asking you to stay with me so I can prove it over time." 

"I'm...I'm not leaving you." You sighed into his neck before he pulled you back to trap your lips between his as he kissed your with a vigorous passion. When you returned his kiss with an equal amount of desperation, he began to stand with you in his arms before promptly laying you on the couch, never detaching his mouth from yours the whole time.

You settled into the velvet cushions as he ground himself into your sex, making you gasp, "I love you, my darling." He murmured into your mouth while one of his hands slid your dress up and your panties to the side before brushing his fingers across your pussy and groaning at your wetness, "Oh fuck, you're so wet, baby." His mouth went to your ear as you moaned, threading your fingers into his hair, "Was it me promising to kill for you or me getting onto my knees that did it, hm?" He rubbed slow circles over your clit and you gasped, "You get off on me spilling blood for you? You get wet by me demeaning myself to keep you right here, where you belong?" 

"Yes, daddy, I do- fuck!" You clutched his hair harder as his finger slipped in and your hips wiggled impatienly, "Just fuck me, I don't care about being stretched, fuck me." 

Too desperate to even hesitate, Namjoon undid his belt, ripping it from his trousers as he secured your wrists within the leather garment, as he had done many times before. He undid your belt as he pushed your arms up and his pants down with his boxers. He slid into you with a deep groan that you matched with a wanton moan. He fucked himself into you feverishly, wasting no time in chasing your high as his nimble finger went down to stimulate your clit, "I love you so fucking much, y/n." He groaned as he felt you tighten, "I don't care who I have to kill to prove it, I'll even let you watch the light drain from their fucking eyes if it means you'll stay with me." 

You moaned out as he whispered gruesome threats to the outside world intermingling with sweet nothings as he held the belt around your wrists,using it as leverage to fuck you harder. If you were sane, you would not be getting closer and closer to orgasm as he cursed the rest of the world into painful deaths just to have you as his wife, but here you were, clenching around him and opening your legs further so he can go deeper, "Shit, I'm gonna cum!" You cried out, arms going over Namjoon's head so you could pull him down to you by the neck and kiss his lips messily.

His hand went from your clit as he wrapped his arm around you to hoist you up and slam himself into you further, "That's right baby, cum for daddy and I'll give you my cum." He cooed in spite of the strain to keep himself from busting you before you get your release. His words only threw you over the edge as you climaxed, hurdling him into his own. He fucked his cum into you like always and you moaned lightly until he was done.

He held himself inside of you as you both gained your breath again, exchanging occasional kisses, "You don't have to kill them, you know." You spoke finally "Although, I won't be so cordial with their bullshit anymore."

He nodded, "I'm by your side, Junebug, forever and always." You smiled before kissing him.

"And I, you." You hummed blissfully.

"We have everything we need between just the two of us, I promise." He smiled against your kiss while you nodded, "You'll be the only one calling me daddy for the rest of out lives- hey!" You smack his chest lightly as you both laughed blissfully, letting the seriously twisted shit that just transpired be a simple part of the past.

"Your mom is a bitch." You giggled tiredly as he chuckled.

"Don't worry about being nice to her if you don't want to, I have my priorities straight." He gave you another kiss that you returned with glee.

As he was cleaning you up, your hazy mind allowed you to feel smug at the fact that you just saved your shitty in-laws from certain death. You were their ticket to life. You were their precious successor's priority. You were his only true love.

Namjoon watched with nothing but love as he tucked your sleeping form into bed. Thinking on it now, he doesn't know if he could even stand the idea of you loving a child as much as you loved him. He enjoyed his monopoly over your affection, and a child would only throw a wrench in that for him. Taehyung liked kids, Jungkook seemed like a family man, maybe even Hoseok if that new girl he's saying is as serious for him as he says. All it took was one kid to carry on the business, so you didn't need to worry your pretty little head about it.

All you had to worry about was staying by his side and all he had to worry about was being a good enough husband to keep you there. He kissed your forehead as he held you closer to him, texting his mom the next time she disrespects you or his marriage, there would be consequences. 

You were the only person he needed. He would do anything to make you understand that. 

The ticking of the clock was nowhere to be heard as you laid in Namjoon's arms. You snuggled into him as you caught sight of the thinly veiled threat he sent to his own mother on account of your feelings. He was yours just as much yours were his and the victory of it all had never tasted so sweet. His heartbeat was all you could hear, steady, loving, and to the beat of the drum you commanded. 

You both wouldn't have it any other way.

Masterlist

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[littledevil-jpeg]

Okay, so last post I was giving Lucifer 5B some credit for getting me interested and intrigued about a shitty character, so, as all things should be balanced, here comes the other side of the question. I'll say right off the bat that Lucifer was never a show I took seriously, all at once because of the tone, the way they chose to develop and delve into the themes, the monster-of-the-week format (though also done in spn, there it's redeemed by the darker tone and more subtle theme-development. Obviously, this is S1-S5 I'm talking about) and again the overall way this world works. I've been known to accuse Cobra Kai and even Breaking Bad for coincidence-bending, but they don't even come close to the level of Lucifer here. Then, of course, there's how easy everything is, like a bloody sled on ice: drugs - no problem, kill someone - no problem, infiltrate a mafia group - no fooking problem. How? Well, glaze over that, it's not that important. Except it is. Remember how in that same Breaking Bad Walter's team spent considerable chunks of the show planning, hiding evidence, preparing, measuring little details, diligently covering up their tracks. And they were only involved in a measly drug manufacturing business. Imagine the shit Lucifer runs, with crime bosses, drugs, demons and prostitutes piling out of his front door. Obviously it's a show about angels and demons, and the realism isn't the focus of the program, but still, these things matter. There's always a convenience to it. Like, oh, you need to infiltrate the Russian mafia or some shit? Don't worry, I know a guy - and poof, problem gone. That's not even to mention the universe bending out of shape all around Lucifer, everyone (Chloe especially) putting up with his humiliating bullshit, the fact that he would be kicked out the police in anything even remotely resembling real life, that the mc's get away with almost everything, the unrealistic dialogue that no human irl ever speaks, the second-hand embarrassment, the cheesy "morale" speeches, the dull, predictable cases that are all done by the same formula... and more. So okay, there's a lot, a lot, of problems with this show. Which is why no one really takes it that seriously, we all know it's kind of trashy. But "kind of trashy" is one thing. Now, when season 5 introduces a genuine "evil twin" that we're meant to take with even a bit of seriousness, in the footsteps of such chef d'oeuvres as Dispicable Me 3, when that twin is the most caricature-like villain in recent history, when the allmighty is a buffoon with half a brain, forget omniscient, and isn't even in-line with the stuff he's done before, when one of the main cast is offed as though mid-sentense, with no lead-up, no foreshadowing, no preamble, like a toss of a dice, when the main character is on a race to become God himself, and his love interested Mrs God, and when, oh, Jesus fucking Christ, just stop already! I truly wonder if the writer's room a big dart board with all these drunk-ass ideas stuck onto it, and they blind throw to make the next season. It's finally hitting me now, as I'm writing this, what on god's green earth I watched yesterday.

Why does Lucifer need to become God? Why does a war in Heaven even have to be introduced? Why not focus of the more intricate inter-personal conflicts on Earth, on the characters and their mentalities, on those meaningful arcs that hold actual importance, and emotion, and down-to-earth (lol), well, meaning again. Why do we need a heavenly war? Why does Lucifer need the approval of the angels, when the moral seems to be that he makes himself who he is, not his status, not his people, not his past and not the Silver City (an excellent moral, by the way, so credit where it's due. This self-actualisation business is the second best thing in the whole show)? I get that this is why the majority vote doesn't work, but then what does work? Are they ment to self-actualise into becoming God? Now, I'm aware it's left uncertain whether Luci really is God, so I won't go there for now, but then we have the issue of his resurrection. Was it a reward for self-sacrifice? That wouldn't fit so well, considering all the previous sacrifices that were much more impressive than this one. And what's the philosophy behind that - he's acting out of love? But to what end, if by dying he practically fucked all the other people on Earth, including the very same Chloe he just brough back down? Are these really the qualities for a God to have?

Or did he once again self-actualise, but this time he actualised himself to life? That would truly be a stake-killer. I saw a theory that he finally saw himself as worthy of Heaven, which doesn't quite link to coming back to life. Well, these are perhaps, once again, speculations, and maybe this will be cleared up next season. As for Lucifer's God status, it's a shitty move on the writers' part. Not only was the execution rushed, but thematically, again, Lucifer becoming God to feel worthy of Chloe is nonsense. From a plot and theme standpoint, why does this need to happen? This Godly status holds no meaning, no emotional worth, it's not fullfilling, not symbolic of anything fitting other than that same old "bad to good" and I guess the irony of the Devil becoming God, but the irony is an empty one if it has no real meaning. Which is the case. The whole thing is empty of substance, and I don't know why they went there. You know, it's hollow anyway, not least because Lucifer really doesn't deserve it. Even this season, he is nothing but a child - he acts and thinks like a child, he unchangeably does the same "projecting" bs from season to season to season with no actual sign of emotional maturity other than that in the words of other characters. But you can say he's different all you want, it's not gonna work if the subtle signs of his change aren't there. Say, imagine if Endeavor kept running his mouth about atonement, but kept dutifully abusing his kids - this is that. And yeah, Lucifer loves Chloe in his own way, cares about her, and even comes out of his self-absorbed little world for her, which by the way bugged me about their uneven relationship since season 1 (you know, treating her like shit with a flimsy excuse and then "making up" for it with a grand gesture of sacrifice or a round of angsty suffering. Time after time, every time.)

And finally, of course, there's the issue of how inconsiderate it is to Chloe for him to become God. I mean, it's dead obvious no relationship will be possible there, not without becoming even more unhealthy than it already seems. Themathic significance and meaning aside, even then, even in-universe, it's a shitty thing Lucifer does, again, for himself. So that he feels worthy of Chloe. What she feels, once he's made it his goal to do something, essentially doesn't matter anymore. And the plot fascilitates this splendidly, I mean, she always forgives him without fault like a well-oiled machine. Always, whatever he does, and it's gotten old a long time ago. We know Lucifer can do anything, anything at all, and he will be forgiven - by Chloe, by Maze, by Dan, by Linda, by Amenadiel, by anyone that he needs to forgive him. You'll be lucky if they don't do it the same episode, and extraordinarily lucky if it takes them three or four.

There are many other things to discuss this season, like Dan's ridiculously badly written death, Chloe's whole character stagnation, the, khm, the musical episode, the saturaday morning cartoon villain problem, the fact that Michael manages to descieve an omniscient being, and God himself. I might do those separately, might not, we'll see, as those aren't nearly as interesting to dissect as the above.

Aaaand, anyway, if he is now God, I strongly suspect they'll play the angle of "even though he's God, he stills feels shitty, as true self-love/worth comes from elsewhere" and the usual thing.

[siren-virus]

Luckyboy!AU thing. So I went looking some stuff up, and I can perfectly imagine that Ben would name himself Nekomata, the name for the lucky cats in japanese; you know, because he wants the victims he rescues to have luck in their lives and to bring some of that to himself. However this confuses the Plumbers a whole lot, after all, why would a vigilante want to bring to himself and the others luck in education and love? Green Nekomatas bring luck in education and pink ones (close enough to magenta) bring luck towards love. Spoiler: Ben didn't know what the colors mean, he just thought that the lucky cats bring luck in general to people. His stickers could be coins in order to keep up the theme, or it could be some kind of cats to keep the cat aesthetic.

I also need some fluff between the different "people" (still don't know which noun to use to represent both humans and aliens that isn't "beings" (kinda uncomfortable using that one, since it also encapsulates non inteligent creatures) ) that visit the coffee shop while Ben is working there, like some conversation that he would have with Rook or Gwen, or how he could give some ideas to Cooper over the next technological thing to create/modify, a chat with Kevin about what alien technology he could sell to the civilians that would make him money AND avoid the eye of the Plumbers (and his vigilante persona too if they aren't dangerous)

Would his parents and Max surprise visit him to the coffee shop? I'd imagine that they would, not only to see him but also to have an excuse to give him money in the form of tips without being returen the money XD "You guys just gave me a big ass tip" "Well we just happen to like the service" "I GAVE YOU A GLASS OF WATER" "We REALLY like your service *wink*", meanwhile, Max's watching everything from the table sipping his own extravagant coffee (don't tell me he wouldn't find a way to add some tentacles to his coffee one way or another, forcing Ben to make one that way XD)

Also, what would happen with the love interests that Ben had in the prime dimension? Would he have met any of them in this timeline? How would his relationship with them be? Would any of them come visit him to his job?

Also also, I imagine that Ben would ask grandpa Max any time some of his friends want a tour through the Plumbers HQ to give them all a pass of some kind and do the tour himself (sometimes with his grandpa by his side, sometimes it's Rook, sometimes he's alone, and the best of times he would be with the other Plumber kids going alongside doing lots of pranks at the same time)

I wonder how many charms does Ben have in his home, since some of them are really useful and would help in a lot of things, like I imagine he would use a light charm and reduce his living costs that way, or a heating charm for the same effect.

Finally, I have to say that I love that animation you did of Ben hating early mornings (and if he was out all night and went without sleep, then thank fuck he works at a coffee shop XD), and that tiny detail of him snapping his fingers with both hands, it's just, ugh, I LOVE IT, it reminds me of The Addams Family opening theme. Maybe whenever he does a spell he does that double hand finger snap as a way to focus himself? It'd be a funny easter egg for anyone who would be able to discern it (aka Jimmy, 'cause let's be honest, he would totally find a way to link the double snap with the show somehow, and he would be totally right XD)

Damn dude, I love that whole thing. He would totally choose that name without thinking about it. Nekomata... Rolls off the tongue nicely.

Fluff, eh? People is good enough.

With Gwen, like I said in another post (did I? maybe...) Their conversations would be brief, usually Ben just trying to get a rise out of his cousin to force her into a chat.

Rook is similar, their conversations are brief, but if Ben asks the right questions, serves him a particularly good drink, saves extra amber ogia tarts for him. Rook would be more than happy to indulge. They don't talk about plumbers business, Rook's smart enough to know not to exchange information with a civilian. (Even though Ben probably knows it already.) More, Rook discusses Earth culture with Ben, trying to play catch up with slang, sometimes he'll even indulge some info about his home planet, his friends, family, and girlfriend.

I don't believe Ben and Cooper would talk much, the only reason he's in the cafe is because Manny, Helen, and Alan (if he's not working) forcefully dragged him from the lab, kicking and screaming.

"i'll have an espresso shot. with some honey too... please." Is the only thing he'll before engrossing himself in what tech he managed to bring along.

The one with Kevin is interesting, I do like the idea of Ben tryna push Kevin in the right direction. But Kevins love of tadenite, and the fact he sells weaponry would propbably prevent that.

Instead Ben would try to get as much info from him as possible, subtly giving Kevin a little extra when it comes to info exchange. Kevins lips are sealed. Unless Ben decides to spill some info on Gwen. Kevin plays dumb, but it's easy to spot his interest.

Absolutely, Max, his parents, AND Patelliday all come for visits. At first his parents would be super cautious entering the cafe, they did their best to try to make Ben quit and find a "normal cafe" to work at. They also did their best to convince Ben to move back in. They would deffinitely use any excuse under the sun to tip Ben. They make regular visits on saturdays for morning tea. They don't stick around long though, aliens still spook them a little.

Max and Patellliday - are a unit- would always order a drink together. Max going with the basic Flat White, with some tentacles, of course. Patelliday going for the Boba Fish Tank... they have to restock their gold fish tank every week.

Ben has a good poker face, having to make such a... variety of drinks, and watch how his customer drink/eat. It leaves scars...

Love interests.

Well with Julie, Ben unfortunately never got the confidence to ask her out. But they're really good friends still. (Ben also learned as he got older that not every girl he's friends with wants to date.) Julie comes by the cafe every now and again, always checking if Bens there first before entering, she still managed to get Ship surprisingly, so Ship is always happy to get a pupacino, can't drink it or anything. Just happy to smoosh his face into it.

With Kai, they never had that meeting when they were 10. She comes to Bellwood every now and again, she and Gwen are surprisingly good friends. They clash alot though.

Kai comes by the cafe sometimes too, Ben think she looks nice, but they've had no interactions. (She's not a coffee person, just a water gal.)

Esther, there's no meeting between them, as Ben that is. However, Esther can't deny she feels something towards Nekomata. The guys charming.

I think there's another girl, but I can't remember ;;;

Tour guides? At plumbers HQ? Much as Ben would love to guide his friends around, the amount of jailbreaks that happen there is too many (the plumbers have shit security)... He's not even allowed there most times unless there is someone capable by his side.

More often than not Ben would be disappointed to see one of his regulars, Fist Rick out on the streets the day after he was arrested.

Yes yes yes!! Ben uses a lot of his mana on little things to make his life easier and more convenient. This also comes at the cost of using too much energy, so normally he makes sure to do this when he knows he doesn't have work.

Thank! I work best when I have a visual setting ;; Maybe I should switch careers to be a vis dev.

Also ngl, the whole finger snapping thing, Idk where that came from ;; Could be a cool easter egg thingy

Some days Ben has to be stopped from drinking the coffee. Mr Baumann (yes, he's the head honcho) threatens to send Ben home on those days.

[thankyoutsfriends]

FAQ | ThankYouTSFriends

Answers to frequently asked questions about our “ThankYouTSFriends” project! (If you’re unfamiliar with the project, check it out here)

Q: If I want to participate, what should I post? A: This is entirely up to you! You can join in by posting messages, drawings, photo edits, video edits, poetry, cosplay—whatever you'd like to create to show love and support to Thomas' friends! Please do keep in mind though that if you're planning on participating every day, that's 44 posts you'll be creating. That's a pretty big number. We don't want anyone to burn out or get too overwhelmed, so remember that you don't have to do anything huge if you don't want to. Feel free to keep them simple if that works best for you. A little goes a long way!

Q: Where is this happening? A: This project is happening on Instagram, Twitter, and Tumblr. You can find it at @thankyoutsfriends on Instagram, @ThanksTSFriends on Twitter, and @thankyoutsfriends on Tumblr.

Q: What are the hashtags for? A: We’ve created a hashtag for each friend so they can easily look through all the posts that are dedicated to them at their own convenience. Some of Thomas’ friends don’t have social media so this system allows all the posts for each person to be in one place and easy for them to find across all platforms!

Q: What is happening during weekends? A: Every Saturday and Sunday of September is a rest day. You can use these days to take a break, catch up on previous days that you may have missed, or get an early start on your posts for the week ahead. It's up to you! You can also use these days to send love to any of Thomas' friends who we weren't able to fit into the lineup if you'd like!

Q: I only want to participate during some days, is that okay? A: Yes! You are welcome to participate in as little or as many days as you would like! (And if you miss a day that you would have liked to have participated in, please feel free to post it late! Just use the hashtag for the friend that your post is addressed to.)

Q: Can I just make one post that's dedicated to all of Thomas' friends instead of several individual posts? A: Yes! Any way you'd like to show love, appreciation, or support to Thomas' friends during September is totally welcome! You can make individual posts for each person on the lineup, you can make a few posts that are each dedicated to several people on the lineup, you can make one big post that's dedicated to everyone on the lineup, whatever works best for you! (Just make sure you use the designated hashtag for anyone your post is dedicated to so they can easily find it. You can also use the hashtag #ThankYouTSFriends if you don't have enough space to tag everyone individually!)

Q: Can I tag Thomas’ friends in my posts directly? A: We’re leaving this up to you! We aren’t sure if everyone would appreciate their notifications blowing up, which is why we have decided not to include any of their links in our original post. If you do want to tag any of Thomas’ friends in your posts, you can usually find their social media links credited in the descriptions of Thomas’ videos that they’re featured in. Either way, the hashtags will still allow Thomas’ friends to easily find all the posts about them. Whether or not you want to tag them is up to you!

Q: How is this different from last year's ThankYouTSFriends? A: You might remember this project from 2020, but there are a few changes this time around! Everyone from last year's lineup is included again this year, but the order of the schedule is completely different, plus there are some newcomers! The biggest difference is that we'll be celebrating TWO friends instead of one each day! Also, weekends aren't included in the schedule this time. It's also worth noting that the hashtags are slightly different from last year's, so make sure you use the correct ones when tagging your posts.

Q: Who is running this project? A: Oh, hi! We’re Ali and Macy! We’re two 24-year-old twins who are big supporters of Thomas and his friends and who just like to make people happy. You can find us at @Ali_and_Macy on Twitter and Instagram and @ali-and-macy on Tumblr.

If you have any further questions, our inbox and our asks are open! Don’t be shy! (If you don’t have a tumblr, you can message us on twitter or on instagram!)