#context will be dropping shortly but I REALLY JUST. MAN.

[didsomeonesayventus]

you ever just imagine ur blorbos in an argument so intense you have to lay down or smthn

(there’s immediate regret alear can’t even take back because he’s simply worried for alcryst. he’s scared. alcryst has always put himself in harm’s way for his loved ones and this one just especially sucks please i love you stop that)

[amageish]

So, Felicia Hardy mentions having a girlfriend in Marvel's Spider-Man 2 and this has resulted in a lot of discussion... I wanna talk about it!

One thing I find really interesting about the conversation is that so many articles discussing it credit Felicia's bisexuality to this moment from 2021, where she and Odessa Drake have an on-panel kiss followed by an off-panel one-night-stand.

While this is pretty friggin' gay and good for them, I feel like reducing the story to "Black Cat kissed a girl in 2021 and that's why she has a girlfriend in the video game" is missing a lot of the larger context... so let's discuss some of the history of Felicia Hardy, AKA the chaotic crime bisexual Black Cat.

Felicia Hardy debuted in 1979. Tamara Blake, her "oldest friend" and female lover, first appeared in 1984, only 5 years later, debuting in the Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Annual "Cat and Mouse."

Dropping by for a night of "harmless frolic," Tamara robs Felicia, aiming to play a game of cat-and-mouse with her friend. While their relationship is not explicitly romantic in this story, Tamara is portrayed as very close to her ex-partner-in-crime and very familiar with her relationship habits. She is surprised by the reveal that Black Cat is trying to settle down with Spider-Man - and to be skeptical about if Felicia will be able to tie herself down to one man... almost as if she knows Felicia has a pattern of behaviour when it comes to monogamy.

I don't know if this story was intentionally gay or not, but it would be used as a foundation for later queer storytelling about Felicia, so it seems worth mentioning it here!

What is pretty explicit, however, is Felicia's relationship with her partner Diana in the 2002 Spider-Girl series. They are just called partners, not lovers, but the framing and discussion of it is obvious enough that, in my opinion, if you know that gay people exist and can accept the possibility of them being gay, then you probably will read this and go "Oh, yeah, they are gay."

This story does not take place in Earth-616 and is primarily focused on Mayday Parker as Spider-Girl and Felicity Hardy as Scarlet Spider, but Felicity does have two moms - and we love that for her!

Jumping ahead a bit, Tamara returned via flashback in Black Cat #10, released in 2020, and this fleshed out their backstory together. It revealed how they trained together under Black Fox as their mentor and clearly shows them using slight-of-hand to hold hands and canoodle without Fox noticing what they're up to.

This is just a super-cute panel to me. That's such a clever use of slight-of-hand; I love it so much...

The next year, in Black Cat Vol 2 #3, there's a vision of Black Cat surrounded by a harem of her lovers, which includes Tamara and Odessa alongside several of her more famous male affairs.

Shortly thereafter, she kissed Odessa on the lips, as discussed earlier. In case the earlier evidence was not enough for you, Felicia Hardy is now formally unquestionably a girl-kisser. We even later get to see her and Drake's one-night-stand via flashback, in case there was any lingering doubts about what happened.

However, it also doesn't end there. It's not like Felicia just kissed a women, Marvel patted themselves on the back, and now she's been back to dating Peter Parker exclusively. There are plenty of comic characters who have had one defining "queer moment" and mum's been the word on their queerness since then... Felicia, meanwhile, is very loudly bisexual.

Immediately, she got a Pride variant cover in 2021 and has been on at least one cover every year since. My favourite is probably this one from 2022, which is both very poly and also features Peter Parker... I'm sure if you'd ask Marvel corporate they'd say he is just there as an ally, but it's still funny to me.

In 2021, she was the character used for the grand return of Jessie Drake (Felicia really has a thing for women with last names that end with -ake, apparently). Jessie was Marvel's first explicitly transgender character, debuting all the way back in 1992. After getting off to a rocky start, Felicia blows up a building with Jessie's help and they go out for dinner.

(This story was not followed up on as the book it was supposed to lead into got cancelled. Drake has not so much as cameoed since. F in the chat for Jessie Drake).

In 2022, there was an 5-issue mini-series all about Tony Stark and Felicia bonding over their mutual problem of supervillain ex-girlfriends trying to murder them. Of the two halves of the pair, Felicia gets the better deal - Tamara not only teams up with Felicia and Tony to fight Tony's ex, but they do so much flirting that Tony forgets that are not currently dating.

And, finally, in 2023, there was another Felicia story in a Pride issue wherein she hooked up with a pseudo-diety and also worked with Gambit to fuck with some transphobes in the process. Good for them!

This is not by any means a definitive list of everything gay Felicia has done - she famously flirts with MJ and Cindy a lot, for instance - but I hope it provides some larger context to Felicia's sexuality in the game.

Moreover, I hope it shows that queer storytelling isn't always about writing a single gay kiss that generates headlines. A lot of Marvel and DC queer storytelling that goes viral isn't the actual multi-issue multi-comic-run queer stuff; it's the one big kiss or something subtextual that happens to feature MCU heroes with better SEO then people like Felicia have... and I think it's the more under-the-radar stuff that's often more valuable.

[kjack89]

Oceans Apart

Watched Ocean's 11 last night for the umpteenth time and this popped into my head as I watched the scene where Danny and Tess reunite.

Should probably be part of something larger but like. Context? What context? I don't know her.

Modern AU, E/R, post-breakup. Angst because it's been too fucking long.

Enjolras peered through the windows of the tiny, nondescript restaurant, his heart doing double time in his chest as he saw the back of the man he was looking for. He’d know the hunch of those shoulders anywhere, the way the man’s shirt stretched across a deceptively well-muscled back. Once upon a time, he’d known every inch of the skin beneath that shirt.

But that was years ago. Now…

Now, he straightened, pushed the door to the restaurant open and walked inside like he was supposed to be there, skirting the hostess stand and making a beeline to the man in question, hesitating for only a moment before reaching out to lightly rest a hand on the man’s shoulder.

Grantaire froze before slowly reaching up to cover Enjolras’s hand with his own, and then—

“Fuck,” Enjolras swore, as Grantaire gripped and then twisted his fingers.

Violently.

Grantaire let go without doing any lasting damage, and Enjolras cradled his hand against his chest for a moment, his pride far more wounded than the hand. “Hello to you, too,” he grumbled, even as he drank Grantaire in with eager eyes.

It had been far, far too long.

But Grantaire wasn’t amused. “What are you doing here?” he said, in lieu of a greeting.

Enjolras jerked a shrug, flexing his fingers to make sure they all still worked before dropping his hand to his side. “I got out.”

“You got out,” Grantaire repeated, something incredulous in the three words.

“Of prison,” Enjolras supplied helpfully. “You remember, the day I went for beer and never came back. You must have noticed.”

“You don’t drink,” Grantaire said shortly, followed by an exasperated, “Don’t sit—”

But it was too late, as Enjolras sat down across from him. Almost as if on cue, a waiter appeared at the tableside, looking at them expectantly. “Can I get anything for your…”

He trailed off. “Husband,” Enjolras supplied.

“Ex,” Grantaire corrected. “Or didn’t you get the papers?”

The waiter glanced between them, eyes wide. “I’ll give you two a moment.”

He disappeared as quickly as he had arrived, and Enjolras gave Grantaire a long, measured look. Despite everything, despite, especially, the acrimony that was rolling off of Grantaire in waves, it really was good to see him.

Even if the feeling was, seemingly, not mutual.

“What are you doing here?” Grantaire repeated.

Enjolras sighed and leaned forward. “They say I paid my debt to society,” he started, but Grantaire snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Funny, I never got a check.”

Enjolras gave him a look. “But I felt I owed you a little bit more than just time served,” he continued, and Grantaire scoffed and looked away. “Hence the drop by.”

Grantaire didn’t quite meet his eyes as he reached out to trace a finger through the condensation on his water glass. “How’d you even get parole anyway?” he asked, deliberately casual. “I’d’ve thought domestic terrorism would be an automatic life sentence.”

“I wasn’t convicted for domestic terrorism,” Enjolras said.

“Right, just indicted.”

Grantaire gave him a sharp sort of smile that didn’t remotely reach his eyes, and it was Enjolras’s turn to look away. “So you did keep up with my case,” he said, aiming for levity and missing by a mile. “I wasn’t sure, considering…”

Grantaire jerked a shrug, his smile disappearing. “Well, I did try to visit you once. Turns out I wasn’t included on your approved visitors list.” Enjolras winced, but Grantaire didn’t let him interrupt. “You know, I always told you that you needed to work on your communication in our marriage, but that one I heard loud and clear.”

“That wasn’t—” Enjolras broke off, not sure where to even start explaining why he hadn’t wanted Grantaire to visit him without explaining the rest. He huffed a dry chuckle, running a hand across his mouth before telling Grantaire, a little wryly, “You don't know how many times I played this conversation out in my head the last five years.”

Grantaire just arched an eyebrow. “Did it always go this poorly?” he asked coolly.

“Yes.”

That sharp smile was back, twitching at the corners of Grantaire’s mouth. “Sounds frustrating.”

“You were never easy,” Enjolras told him, honestly. “You were always worth it.” Again Grantaire’s smile disappeared, and for just a moment, he looked—

He looked as heartbroken as Enjolras had never in a million years wanted him to be.

Enjolras cleared his throat and looked away. “Okay, I’ll make this quick,” he said, trying to steer back on subject, if only to try to alleviate the pain in his chest when he saw Grantaire looking like that. “I came here because I wanted to explain.”

His attempt working perhaps too well, as Grantaire’s expression instantly hardened. “What explanation could you possibly have that will matter one iota?”

Enjolras wet his lips before telling him, his voice low, “You may not believe me, and given everything, I don’t blame you for that, but I swear, I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

Grantaire stared at him. “Well, for someone who wasn’t trying, you sure as shit pulled it off with aplomb.” He leaned in, his eyes dark. “So by all means, Apollo, tell me, what were you trying to do?”

Enjolras met his glare evenly. “I was trying to protect you.”

“Bullshit.”

Enjolras shook his head. “It’s not. I didn’t want—”

“And did you ever stop to think about what I wanted?” Grantaire interrupted, his eyes flashing. “Because I didn’t want to be protected, not if that’s what you’re calling the last five years of my life. I wanted us to be together.”

“Pretty hard to be together from a jail cell,” Enjolras said flatly. “As the divorce papers you sent pretty clearly demonstrated.”

Grantaire shook his head. “We could’ve figured something out if you had just, I don’t know, involved me literally once—”

“Involving you would have implicated you,” Enjolras said, his voice tense, “and I couldn’t let that—”

Grantaire barked a laugh, scrubbing his hand across his face. “You think I wasn’t already implicated?” he asked, incredulous. “Tell me, do you think I’m stupid? Or naïve? That I didn’t know what you were doing all that time?”

“I—”

“Because the FBI agents who interrogated me after you were arrested didn’t seem to think so.” Grantaire let that statement sit for a moment before continuing, “We were married. We were living in the same house. Just because I don’t believe in the same Causes you do doesn’t mean I’m a complete moron.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “I never said you were,” he said quietly.

Grantaire’s lip curled. “No, you just decided to cut me out of everything.” He laughed again, dry, humorless. “I mean, hell, I wasn’t even your one phone call when you were arrested.”

He hadn’t been, but it wasn’t because Enjolras hadn’t wanted to call him. But there were multiple moving pieces that needed to fall into place, and— “I didn’t have a choice,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire’s expression didn’t so much as flicker. “You did have a choice, Enjolras. You had a choice, you made it.”

“Fine,” Enjolras snapped, “I made a choice, and I didn’t pick you, and I’m sorry, but that doesn’t mean—”

“It was never about picking me!” Grantaire burst. “Three years of marriage before your arrest and you don’t think I had already figured out where I ranked?”

Enjolras had the sudden realization that everyone in the restaurant was staring at them, so he leaned forward and lowered his voice as he told Grantaire, with every ounce of sincerity he possessed, “And you don’t think I know that if I was in trouble, or in danger, you’d firebomb the fucking Hague to keep me safe?” Grantaire met his eyes evenly, and didn’t bother trying to deny it. “I didn’t want that for you.”

“And all I wanted was to be part of the decision,” Grantaire said tiredly, all of the fight leaving him in an instant, his shoulders slumping in what Enjolras recognized all too well as defeat. “Even if there wasn’t a thing I could say or do to change your mind, I just wanted you to care about me enough to ask.”

With that, he stood, and Enjolras stared up at him. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving,” Grantaire said shortly, grabbing his coat. “You did it, you should recognize the gesture.”

Enjolras scrambled to follow, trailing after him out of the restaurant. “Grantaire, please, I—”

“You what?” Grantaire asked, stopping so suddenly that Enjolras almost ran into him.

“I still love you,” Enjolras said. He said it simply, starkly, hoping the quiet declaration would reinforce that he meant it. It had been all he had come to say tonight, after all, and even if Grantaire didn’t believe anything else, didn’t believe in anything else, Enjolras needed him to believe this. “You think my choice was about me not caring enough to involve you, but how could I possibly involve you? How could I possibly tell you what was going on knowing that you would immediately put yourself at risk, and all because of me?”

Grantaire shook his head, but Enjolras didn’t let him interrupt. “The only way that I could do what I did was by knowing that you were sage. So even if you never forgive me for it, I did what I had to do to protect you.”

For one long moment, Grantaire just stared at him, and Enjolras held his breath, hoping against hope that maybe, somehow, Grantaire might find a way to forgive him, even just a little. But then Grantaire shook his head, reaching up to wipe the tear from his cheek with the heel of his palm. “Yeah. Well. Right back atcha,” he said his voice hoarse. “Goodbye, Enjolras.”

Watching Grantaire walk away from him hurt more than Enjolras could possibly have anticipated, all the more so when he saw Grantaire meet up with a dark-haired man halfway down the block, grabbing his arm and tugging him in the opposite direction.

Enjolras wasn’t sure he’d ever fully understood what heartbreak felt like before that moment.

He was staring so intently that he didn’t even notice as Combeferre joined him, squinting after Grantaire. “Why is Grantaire with him?” he asked.

Enjolras shook his head. “Pretty sure that’s who he’s seeing now,” he said dully.

“No, I get that,” Combeferre said, glancing sideways at him. “I told you this was a fool’s errand from the get, after all. But why is Grantaire with a Serbian arms dealer?”

Enjolras stared at him. “He—” Grantaire’s parting words replayed in his head, and for the first time all evening, for the first time, if he was being entirely honest, since he’d gotten the divorce papers mailed to his jail cell without so much as a note, he felt a spark of something flicker in his chest: hope.

“He’s doing what he has to do to protect me.”

[lastweeksshirttonight]

All righty, I managed to get back home despite the hurricane, let's talk about the show.

Tl;dr - I traveled cross-country to see John Oliver and Seth Meyers. It was amazing and I am still giddy about it!! Gonna put all the details under a cut to not clog up your timeline/the tags.

(All jokes will be paraphrased/guestimated bc my adrenaline and ADHD played havoc with my memory recall, lol.)

Firstly, the Beacon Theatre is absolutely stunning. It reminds me a bit of the Theatre at Ace Hotel in LA, in that it's clearly had its old elements lovingly preserved and harkens back to an older time. It was truly a gorgeous venue.

I missed getting a pic of the other side of the stage, which had a massive sculpture of shields and spears. John made a joke about the opulence of the room not matching the entertainment for the evening, and noted that "even Coco Chanel would say to keep it to one shield". Really wish I'd thought to get a picture of it, he was not wrong.

I was extremely close to the stage - 3 rows back and dead center. I definitely had the anxious excited adrenaline jitters because of it.

I mean COME ON.

The opener was Brooks Wheelan, who I remembered from his brief stint at SNL. He talked a fair deal about that, and told a great story bit about getting fired from there and opening for John shortly after, wherein he drank an entire bottle of "HBO blood diamond whiskey" from John's dressing room and had, in Seth's later words, "a nervous breakdown". I'd heard Brooks has opened for John before and was glad I got to see him, he's a lot of fun.

He also told a joke about not wanting to learn karate because of the huge glass windows in front of every karate studio and not wanting anyone to watch him learn karate. Lots of very understanding laughter there, including from me. (Why do all these places have massive plate glass windows?!)

After Brooks was John Oliver, and y'all. Let me get this out of the way.

He is fine as hell. Look. Just LOOK. HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO DEAL WITH THIS

I would also like to take the time to gush effusively about John's mastery of set structure. The set was, aside from the typical "before we get started, I need to let you know I'm British" pseudo-opener he's used since like 2005, entirely new material -

(As an aside... !!!!!! I KNOW!!!! A FULL FUCKING HOUR OF ENTIRELY NEW MATERIAL!! THAT I WAS NEAR THE FRONT FOR!!!! I'M SO VERKLEMPT STILL YOU HAVE NO IDEA)

- and it was just beautifully written from a structural standpoint. It was pretty much all political material all centered around history and the need to understand it for context on the world as it currently stands. There were some digressions from that point but they were seamlessly woven in. He is such a goodamn incredible stand-up comedian.

A few things he talked about in his set:

That time the US dropped nukes on itself twice (which was briefly mentioned on LWT but not in this detail and not including a reenactment of a man dropping a bomb while working on a plane and him reacting to watching it roll away).

That the current British royal line of succession exists because of a "cousin-fucker who cut someone into pieces like a Benihana chef". (John told us this is something he learned researching this bit, which caused me unending joy. I love that he's making new sets!! :D)

John delights in the misery of billionaires and wished that the rocket Jeff Bezos was on would blow up. He doesn't want him to die, though. Through this he also talked about Elon Musk and his favorite fake blue check company tweets, mainly a series made by a fake Chiquita account claiming to have overthrown Brazil, followed by Chiquita saying they hadn't actually overthrown any governments since 1954.

John got booed at a Sesame Street benefit and told a killer set of jokes about Bert judging him for it. ("The man lives with Ernie! He knows chaos!")

He claims we will all know things are okay with the US again when we are all irrationally mad at Anne Hathaway for no reason again. Told an incredible story about how he just blundered into the street in LA once, almost got hit by a car, looked up, realized it was Anne Hathaway in the car, saw her wave at him, and, despite the scenario being objectively his fault, being somehow mad at her.

Shaded Dave Chappelle in an analogy about how we are not at Civil War division times because "somehow our level of division is people debating whether Chapelle's SNL monologue was okay or not", in a way that suggested it was very much not okay. 10/10 no notes.

Okay so there was one recycled bit - him being informed the Queen wanted to give him an OBE. He added to it fantastically though, by personifying the man from the embassy as the most offensively British stereotype you could possibly imagine. He said the man sounded like "if a British person rubbed a teapot and a genie came out".

There was definitely more but I could gush forever so let's move on.

Brooks came back out to introduce Seth and forgot the name of his show, lol. For a brief moment we all contemplated what Last Week Tonight with Seth Meyers would look like. (I assume the show's Adam Driver would be Stefon.)

Anyways, here is the only good photo I took of Seth.

Seth was great as well - not as good as John, but I'm very biased in that regard. The material was also pretty diametrically opposed to John's, much more domestic comedy about his wife and kids and their idiosyncracies.

I really liked Seth's energy and approach. I don't quite know how to explain this, but he had a touch of Dennis Reynolds energy to him, a restrained manicness, that was really interesting to watch. That's not my normal association with Seth's energy, either, but it was very fun. Definitely puts some of the more deranged things from his tenure as Weekend Update host in context.

Some highlights from Seth's set:

He had an amazing brick joke about doing accents as a comedian, where he imitated a Swedish accent and talked about how everyone's Swedish accent is basically the Swedish Chef from the Muppets and how the only Swedish food anyone has nearby is the meatballs at IKEA. Funny on its own, but later in the show, Seth talked about how people assume he's fully Jewish, including people on the street. He noted that he's 25% Swedish but no one comes up to him on the street and goes -insert Swedish Chef impression-. (This straight up killed the guy sitting next to me, who ended up laughing with his head in his hands for a solid 30 seconds.)

His kids eat very healthily, so when they end up going to friends' houses and eat one Skittle, they turn into demons. Literal demons. Seth's impression of an actual demon trying to undo a double-buckled car seat was the hardest I laughed at his whole set.

Seth also had a section which he claimed would be the part where he'd tell anti-trans jokes "if he was a complete asshole". I enjoyed the trans affirmation the whole evening, ngl.

Seth's family and his wife's family have very different ways of conversing at the dinner table, which directly mirrors my and my partner's family - Seth's family (like Mr. Lee's) is big on listening to everyone and contributing to conversations only when someone else has talked; Alexi's family (like mine) is constantly screaming over each other.

After Seth's set, everyone (including Brooks) came out to do a Q&A. I could not think of a song in the moment, but realized at the hotel room an hour after that I should have made @chiijohn 's evening by asking John's opinion on Planet of the Bass. :facepalm: Sorry mate!

Still, some great questions were asked, and it was about 30 minutes of just audience interaction. I've never experienced anything like it at a stand-up gig and genuinely loved it. John, of course, told people they were free to leave before the Q&A because why would they want to stay; the man is incapable of thinking anything good about himself and much as I hate his bad self-esteem, I would have been concerned if he hadn't said something to that effect.

Brooks was asked almost immediately if he remembered the name of Seth's show, which was honestly hilarious. Brooks said "I conferred with John backstage and we're both pretty sure that it's Late Night with Seth Meyers".

Someone asked how fearful Seth and John were of their shows being cancelled after one year, and Brooks snarked that he knew that feeling. (Brooks seems to have a good sense of humour about not being a huge presence on SNL.) Seth said that he wasn't super worried but that they redid his entire set (background set, not stand-up set) because Alec Baldwin said it looked like "a sushi restaurant in Burbank". (theoniontheworstpersonyouknow.jpg) John said he was told most HBO shows don't get cancelled at one season and he said "we'll see about that".

There was definitely some extended riffing on Alec Baldwin being a piece of shit afterwards, while John giggled helplessly. I love John's giggling.

Seth and John's favorite Muppet is Cookie Monster. They talked about how interesting it is that you can have amazing chemistry with Muppets, and then meet the puppeteer and have literally nothing to talk about. Seth also talked about how low-tech Big Bird was, and how the late Carroll Spinney, when on SNL, held a script in one hand, the controls of Big Bird in the other, and a flashlight in his mouth to read the script.

Everyone is upset they didn't get to cover the indictments because of the Writer's Strike. John thought there were only 3, but I honestly don't know if one of them came down before the Writer's Strike and he was just referring to the ones since then. It's been a long few months for us all.

Brooks basically forces John and Seth to get out of their hotel rooms when touring. Otherwise, Seth said, "they both just sit there anxious". That tracks, especially for John, who literally said on Seth's podcast that he is physically incapable of relaxing.

When asked about their influences, John said (rather obviously) that he wouldn't have a career without Jon Stewart, and Brooks talked about how both Seth and John really uplifted him and cared for him after he got fired from SNL. Seth talked in a really lovely way about how Amy Poehler basically adopted him and got him out of his shell and was a real friend to him early on.

I really wish I'd written down every stand-up that the three of them recommended when prompted, because I've completely blanked on half of them. Seth said Joe Pera (who I also highly recommend); John recommended Maria Bamford (again, also highly recommend). He also said that most people in the room would have probably not heard of him but that the best in the UK was Daniel Kitson (paging @tellthemeerkatsitsfine to provide her recs bc she knows Kitson backwards and fronts). Brooks gave a shout to Kyle Kinane (who I am not as familiar with as I should be).

There was so much more, but honestly, I was just so in the moment that I feel like I remember things in waves. It was an amazing evening and I was honestly so blessed to be there at all.

I did not wait at the stage door or anything, because I am truly not that kind of person and have consistently been sure that if I ever met John, I'd barf on his shoes. I know on Instagram some people had gotten stage door photos, though, and I'm happy for them!

Thank you all for always being supportive of this dumb blog. I don't think I would have had the confidence to go on this cross-country journey without you all randomly egging me on all the time. It was one of the best nights of my life. 💖💖

[gendercensus]

On culture-specific gender words

I just had a bit of a ramble about this topic in the latest progress report, and I'll repeat it here for context.

I've been reading the feedback as it comes in, and based on some of that feedback I've been pondering the issue of culture-specific gender words. It's a very difficult issue, because:

If I add an umbrella term like "culture-specific gender" I feel like that won't help as much as people think. I think when you get right down to it there isn't a strict line between a general gender word and a culture-specific one.

I think a lot of people will check that box that the feedbackers were not intending, because when you get right down to it every term is culture-specific really, isn't it?

Marginalised groups relating to culture/region are by their nature fewer in number, which also means that their gender words are very unlikely to be entered frequently enough that they'll end up on the checkbox list.

The checkbox list is just a list of the most commonly-entered words, to make data-processing easier, but to an extent that creates a self-fulfilling loop of culture-specificity - people in marginalised groups come to the survey, don't see their genders in the checkbox list, immediately feel out of place, and check out again. Then their gender words are never anywhere near the top of the list.

So maybe it doesn't feel like the right approach to modify the checkbox list, but maybe the design of the survey can be improved to help people from marginalised groups feel more welcome and to encourage them to type in their culture-specific gender words, to address that bias.

This is something that comes up year after year, and it's always niggling at me, and I would really like to find a solution that feels satisfying! So, I'm thinking about it, and I will keep thinking about it.

Shortly after posting it, I updated some of the text on the front page of the survey a little bit. The previous wording had never sat right with me, and I realised that I could feed two birds with one scone.

Original wording: "As far as we know, most people fit tidily into one of these categories: [gender binary man/woman descriptions]"

New wording: "According to the white Western model of gender called the "gender binary", everyone fits tidily into one of these categories: [gender binary man/woman descriptions]" [See edit, below!]

I didn't announce this, but less than an hour later I got this in the feedback box:

"Not a complaint about the survey itself; Just wanted to say that dropping something like "white Western model of gender called the "gender binary"" maybe isn't the best idea. Not to mention that it's completely false. You probably only meant it as a joke or were trying to be edgy, but maybe think about what you're actually saying/writing beforehand."

I obviously can't take it into account or act on it at all, because they haven't given me any information about what's wrong with what I said or any corrections, they're just being passive-aggressive and ~vaguely ominous~

So I'm posting this as an example of the kind of feedback that has literally zero effect, and I'm inviting some feedback that is more informative and useful. How do you know a statement that I made is false? Why isn't it the best idea? In what universe is it "edgy" to point out that maybe the binary model of gender might not be universal in a survey aimed at people whose genders don't conform to the binary model of gender? I need multiverse co-ordinates, people!!

Anyway, obviously Tumblr is terrible for messaging, so the best way to send me feedback is to reply to this post (because it's all in one place), but if you want to contact me less publicly you can email me: hello AT gendercensus DOT com. For obvious reasons I am more interested in your thoughts on this if you're a person with a culture-specific/-exclusive gender, but basically all thoughts are welcome.

Edit, a few hours later: I've removed the "white Western" part now, because it didn't feel like a particularly constructive thing to include, and because I can't back it up with sources off the top of my head. I want to keep the introduction to just the pertinent information, as common-sense as possible.

So now it says:

According to one model of gender called the "gender binary", everyone fits tidily into one of these categories: [gender binary man/woman descriptions]

And I think I feel better about it. It implies that it's one of several models of gender, without raising it above other models, and race or region are not a factor but anyone not white or Western will hopefully read that and be reassured.

Further thoughts welcome, here or by email!

[shychick-52]

Character ask game- Gyro with 1, 12, 20 and 26?

My first impression of them

DUDE. When 'The Great Dime Chase' first debuted, I remember feeling a little disappointed because I was like 'Ok, when are they going to actually go on more adventures?' BUT THEN. When Gyro randomly kicks open the door and interrupts the meeting to loudly declare "Shut up, everyone, I've done something brrrilliant!" (rolling the 'r', no less XD), all disappointment in the episode was instantly forgotten and he became my main focus. I. WAS. HOOKED.

And when he said his second line of the series: "Apology accepted. Now, try to keep up with my mind-numbing genius"- not only did Jim Rash's delivery make it hilarious, but so did the context because Bradford obviously wasn't apologizing when he started to say "I'm sorry-" at Gyro's bold entrance, and it's unknown if Gyro knew that and was just being a smartass or was just so arrogant he automatically assumed Bradford apologized for being unworthy to be in the presence of such genius- anyway, as I was saying, that second line had me just DEAD. And every single following line and scene with him in the episode further confirmed he was a keeper (that is, I knew he was officially my favorite character XD).

Sexuality hc!

Gay, naturally! Not only is he voiced by Jim ducking Rash (the Gayest Man Alive), but it comes forth in Jim's delivery, as well as Gyro's mannerisms, body language, and overall snarky, sassy attitude. And trans, ofc. ALSO, I definitely see him as aroace in canon; to me, he just gives off aroace vibes as much as he does gay vibes. (I see all versions of Gyro as aroace, but especially 2017 Gyro).

A weird headcanon

Not really weird, but I see him being extremely fastidious about his clothing, hair, and overall appearance. If his bowtie is even slightly crooked or a single strand of his perfectly immaculate bangs is out of place, he probably freaks. It's also my headcanon that he stopped getting his haircut by a hairdresser ages ago, and got Lil Bulb to do it ever since he created him (I mean, he did create him to be the perfect helper) likely very shortly after the Board turned him down.

When do you think they were being "themselves" the most?

Oh, definitely in 'Astro B.O.Y.D.' when he just dropped all barriers and admitted "2-BO was the first machine I worked on that turned evil, and I have spent my whole life trying to live that down." The pain and frustration in his voice was amazing. It was the first time in the whole series we got a chance to see him being totally real, displaying his vulnerabilities (it was a VERY vulnerable moment for him) after keeping it inside him for so long.

Another moment is that glorious, emotional hug with Boyd. It was another rare moment of just letting his emotions free, which was just as significant as the other scene, but in in a different way because it was the start of healing (for both him and Boyd) and properly reuniting with his son- who he learned was just as much a victim of Akita's treachery as him, had his life ruined as much as Gyro's,(regarding Boyd, he was always alone, used and tossed aside by countless others, always having his life controlled and never being able to make his own choices, never knowing the love that Gyro once gave him and would give him once they were together again), and was always as wildly misunderstood as Gyro.

[butterflyintochains]

Yes. The infamous Benito Perez-Barbadillo, a slimy and incompetent man who is Rafa’s PR manager to this day (I have no idea how he still has a job but it’s seriously funny how much Nadal fans hate him). He started working with them in 2006, when they were both teenagers (still blows my mind that he somehow picked two kids who would go on to be the two greatest of all time as his first clients). And they did not get along at first but were told that it would be wise if they did because they would have to spend a lot of time together on and off the court. There were a lot of posts and anecdotes about Rafa and Novak in their early days on the RafoleArchive blog but they seem to have deactivated their account. I don’t think it was all bad, they seemed to have a built a genuine camaraderie by early 2011 hence the famous Indian Wells 2011 incident with Rafa dropping his rackets and running across a field to interrupt a soccer match in order to hug Novak because it was the first time he’d seen him since he won his second slam at the Australian Open story. But some of the stories made me uncomfortable such as how Novak took pictures of Rafa and his team celebrating after Rafa beat him in a masters final in 2007 and Novak talking with Rafa for hours after Rafa was forced to withdraw from Wimbledon in 2009 (like, come on we all know Rafa wouldn’t have done the same for him but I suppose Novak kind of accepted him as the golden child in their fucked up family dynamic) and the way Novak was dropped by Benito as soon as he became a real threat in 2011 and the disparaging comments about how uncharismatic and unlikeable he was compared to Rafa that came shortly after. Apologies for rambling on in your inbox, I’ll stop now. Just thought it would be interesting to add some more context.

No, no, that's fine. Good God, I have no idea how that asshole still has a job either. Maybe Rafa keeps him around because he's spanish? All of Rafa's team are from Spain, and always have been. Roger's last coach was Croatian, Novak's always had a diverse team.

I had no idea about the Indian Wells 2011 story (which is actually really wholesome), or the Indian Wells 2007 story (which seems kinda fucked up), and that Wimbledon 2009 story is just heartbreaking.

It is funny though, that with Benito things are the same, the strategy is the same all these years later. But, when Novak hired Edoardo and Elena, he finally outgrew the fucked up dynamic Benito forced onto them. But, Rafa hasn't for some reason.

[666writingcafe]

Lilith

"Barbatos?"

"Yes, MC?" We're back in the room that I've been staying in--or imprisoned in, depending on who you ask--at the Demon Lord's Castle.

"When did you and Lucifer become friends?" He faintly smiles.

"I can't point to a specific date, for time becomes quite blurred for demons and angels, but I would say that things shifted between us the day he came to me to talk about Lilith."

"Really?" Judging from the memory that I witnessed, Barbatos would seem to be the last person a freshly fallen Lucifer would trust with his feelings about his sister.

"To give a bit of context, I have the ability to view and alter timelines. I can see the past as well as possible futures that may arise from certain decisions. The Young Master ordered me long ago to use my power only when he asks me to."

"What does that have to do with Lilith?"

"Lord Diavolo made his vow after Lucifer received his mark. He then sent Lilith's soul to the human world, which she inhabited for about 80 or so years. I was tasked with checking in on her every now and then to make sure that she was safe. One day, just after I had returned from one of these visits, I found Lucifer standing in the middle of my room. Apparently, the Young Master had told him about my travels, for he started questioning me about the human version of his sister. Once I answered his questions, he provided me information about her past that I had little insight to previously." He pauses, allowing me to take everything in. Given that both Lucifer and Barbatos have the Mark of Diavolo, it does make sense that there would be a certain connection between them, even if it was just in a professional sense. But Lilith?

"You seem confused," Barbatos states, failing to hide the smirk developing on his face.

"This is worse than Devildom History class." He chuckles.

"Unfortunately, this particular lesson is vital to our little quest, so I can't skim over anything. I can, however, answer any questions you have before I continue."

"Why would Lilith's life be the topic that made Lucifer trust you? I mean, he seemed quite wary of you guys when he fell, and Lilith's too dear to him to reveal anything about her to a demon, especially one that was under Diavolo's control."

"I became friends with the human Lilith over the years. She told me that she often dreamt of living among the clouds, playing with people that felt familiar to her, even though they didn't resemble anyone in her life."

"Was she having flashbacks of her time as an angel?" Barbatos nods.

"During one of these dreams, she describes a beautiful man handing her a necklace and telling her that if he saw anyone else with it, he knew that he could trust them. When she woke up, the necklace was still in her hand." Barbatos gets up from his seat and walks behind me. Turning around in my chair, I watch him stop in front of a chest of drawers, open the middle drawer, and pull something out. On his way back, he drops the object in my lap. I hold it up as he sits down again.

"I take it I'm holding Lilith's necklace?"

"Yes. She gave it to me shortly before I left her that day, saying that she felt like I needed it me than she did." Wait a second...

"Would that happen to be the same day that you found Lucifer standing in your room upon your return?" With twinkling eyes, Barbatos smiles at me.

"Very good. As it turns out, the man in her dream was none other than Lucifer himself." Pause. "You're welcome to keep it, MC. I don't have much use for it anymore." I gingerly set the necklace down on the table between us.

"I think you should give this back to Lucifer and let him decide what he wants to do with it."

"Fair enough." Barbatos shifts in his chair. "Now, as I mentioned earlier, Lucifer and I had a long conversation about Lilith once I had returned from the human world. He told me that her interest in humans developed from Belphegor's adoration of them. The youngest brother apparently would sneak down to the human world all the time, despite getting in trouble for it several times. Eventually, Lilith would join him on these ventures, and for a while, things were relatively stable. Then, one day, Lilith met a man in the human world that she eventually fell in love with. She kept the fact that she was an angel secret from him, but she failed to keep the relationship unknown to her brothers. Lucifer apparently had gone down at one point to see this man, and he concluded that he was a good and virtuous man that made his little sister happy."

"Something tells me that happiness didn't last for long." Barbatos shakes his head.

"The man developed an incurable illness. No matter what Lilith did, he showed no signs of recovering from it. Lilith grew so desperate that she broke one of the golden rules of the Celestial Realm by giving her lover forbidden food."

"Golden rule?"

"Neither a demon nor an angel can alter the life span of a human. To do so would be unsettling the balance of the universe." Another pause. "Anyway, as a result of Lilith breaking this rule, her father declared that she must be punished for her actions."

"She committed treason." Barbatos' eyes develop a sad look in them.

"The punishment for treason is one of the few things the Celestial Realm and Devildom have in common. Since her brothers didn't wish to see Lilith wiped from existence, they performed actions that eventually led to the Great Celestial War. After all was said and done, Belphegor apparently began feeling that Lilith's human lover was responsible for her death, which then made him hate all humans as a result."

"Does Diavolo know this?"

"The Young Master isn't one to consider someone's feelings if they interfere with his vision."

"Do the other brothers know what happened to their sister?"

"I was the only one permitted to come in contact with the human Lilith, and Diavolo used the Mark to make Lucifer and me not tell anyone about her."

"So how are you able to tell me?" Barbatos grows silent as he sits back and ponders at my question. After a few moments, his eyes light up.

"That's it!" he exclaims.

"What is?" Barbatos gets up from his seat and gestures for me to do the same.

"I think it's time we pay the Young Master a visit."

[jedichick04]

Obi-Wan Kenobi Part I Thoughts

I've watched the first episode of the Obi-Wan Kenobi show...and I have thoughts. Spoilers below.

I spent the evening watching Revenge of the Sith in preparation for Obi-Wan Kenobi dropping Friday, and originally I wasn't planning on watching the episodes until Friday night. But when I was about an hour from finishing ROTS, the news came across Twitter that they were dropping the episodes in an hour. So I was perfectly set up to go straight from the angst of ROTS to the angst of the first Obi-Wan episode. But I am saving episode two for Friday night still...have to have something to look forward to ;)

The prequel recap set the tone perfectly. Well chosen scenes and lines, and hearing Padme naming the twins as we saw them being handed off was perfection.

Seeing yet another Order 66 scene was...difficult. I get why it was there (Reva was one of the younglings in that group, I assume), but definitely difficult with the context of this week.

The introduction to the Inquisitors was chilling and further drove the tone. I haven't yet watched Rebels (though I know a lot of the broad strokes of the show), so it was good to get the "backstory" right off the bat. And oh Reva, you are already so close to Kenobi and you don't even know it.

Obi-Wan working in a meat packing facility just...broke my heart a little. He looks so defeated. I love his relationship with the eopie. It breaks my heart he's literally living in a cave. Also heartbreaking? How he spent some of the few credits he had to get Luke a toy (a very familiar one - I see you there, Easter egg), that Owen promptly threw back in his face. I get Owen's protectiveness, but don't beat up on Obi-Wan like that!!

I liked that Obi-Wan has a familiar relationship with a Jawa - I'm sure this ties back around to him taking the time to burn the Jawas in A New Hope - though the Jawa really needs to lay off telling poor Obi-Wan he needs soap ;)

The nightmare sequence, like the prequel recap, further hit the nail on the head with the well chosen scenes. I can believe that he's spent almost every night since Mustafar with some variation of those nightmares. And it broke my heart again when, after waking up, he called out for his Master...who he apparently has not yet learned to communicate with. Hopefully by the end of the series...?

Obi-Wan's encounter with the other Jedi just further established how far he is from that Jedi Master we saw in ROTS. He is truly broken and hasn't started to heal yet from the events of ten years before. Break my heart some more, why don't you, Obi-Wan??

When I was watching ROTS earlier this evening, I had the thought, "I really wish we could see more of Alderaan on Star Wars shows." Because we've spent tons of time on Tatooine, but we had oh, two minutes of screen time of the planet Leia grew up on? It didn't feel like enough.

When the screen switched to show a city in front of mountains, I gasped and then started grinning. I was also shocked that I hadn't seen a whisper of this spoiler anywhere. But oh, was I glad that I hadn't, because the payoff of seeing Breha Organa, little Leia Organa, and then Bail Organa was so worth it. I can absolutely see both Anakin and Padme in Leia, and I can see bits of the woman she grows into in this spunky little girl. I love her relationship with both her parents and how she casually took down her cousin.

When I first saw the guy watching her in the woods, I thought, "Oh, can Vader go without his helmet?" I know, weird train of thought, but it makes much more sense where they went with it, of course. More on that shortly.

Owen was equal parts devastating and ridiculously amazing in the scenes with Obi-Wan and Reva. If anyone dares question how deeply that man loves his nephew and wife...he just calmly resigned himself to sacrificing himself, and I respect that fiercely.

One thing that I think this series will bring out is how loved and cared for both Skywalker twins were. I think fandom as a whole seems to overlook that, since by the time we met Luke and Leia in A New Hope they were adults ready to step out into the world and away from their homes, but they both were raised by families who would do anything for them.

And that brings us to the kidnapping. We all knew that something had to prompt Obi-Wan to leave Tatooine, and I honestly thought it was that Obi-Wan was trying to draw the Inquisitors away from Tatooine and Luke. The fact that instead, it's because Obi-Wan has to go protect the other twin for a while...makes complete sense to me.

I loved seeing the emergency holocall, and when that didn't work, Bail just showing up in person to shake Obi-Wan out of his stupor. And I completely adore that Bail called Obi-Wan out on not just looking after Anakin and Padme's son, but that boy's sister, too. I have gotten frustrated with Obi-Wan in the past for kind of ignoring Leia and her potential, so it was lovely to have someone call him on it.

I giggled when Obi-Wan went out to the desert and started digging up his lightsaber, especially since he'd told the other Jedi to bury his lightsaber in the desert. But then my heart hurt all over again when he opened the box and there was Anakin's lightsaber right alongside his.

And of course we find out that Obi-Wan is walking into a trap. I loved Reva's wording, of "He fought beside her father in the war", because I'll admit, my brain first went to "Yes, he and Anakin went everywhere together" until I realized that no, she was of course talking about Bail Organa, not Anakin Skywalker. Can I blame just finishing the most excellent book Brotherhood? No? That's okay, I have a feeling that wording was very deliberate...

And off Obi-Wan goes on board public transportation with his lightsaber. It's a trap!

I have so many more thoughts and feelings, but mostly, that it's wonderful to see Obi-Wan Kenobi back on my screen, continuing and enhancing the story that I love so much. And I loved every minute of the first episode.

[purplemninja]

Here is my best explanation on why Six dropped Mono:

---------------Context: This is copy and pasted from a comment I made on Tericho’s part 2 Shadow Six video where he unfortunately joined the ‘pin all of the blame of the world’s distortion on Six and only Six’ party, and the whole 'the world's distortion is all Six's fault' argument is the one that pisses me off the most. I pointed out that Mono not releasing Thin Man and Thin Man not kidnapping Six could've also prevented the time loop, but some people replied saying that if Six didn't betray Mono then Thin Man wouldn't exist. I replied showing some information that David Mervik gave in an interview that Tericho failed to look at, while also using all of the official answers that the devs gave us on why Six dropped Mono, in-game stuff that is mostly ignored and a few other things that few people consider. I’ve already copy and pasted this explanation of mine a couple of times on the LN subreddit, on Six’s page on the fandom wiki and a post I made on the LN community on Amino, so I thought I’d put it here too for more people to see and gain some new insight as people have told me that my explanation is a good one. Without further ado, here is my copy and pasted reply, and quick warning, this will be a bit long so prepare yourself:-------------

I need to mention this point to debunk the ‘The world’s distortion is all Six’s fault argument’, which as I said is the one that pisses me off the most, as it shows that while it’s unclear how it works, that Thin Man existed before Mono’s cycle began. I’ll kind of get back to this later.

So here are all of the answers that the devs would give us on why Six dropped Mono:

1:

The LN Twitter shed a bit more light on this:

2:

3:

-----------------------------

And so with all of these breadcrumbs, here is my best explanation on why Six dropped Mono:

These point to the reason why she let go of Mono is because the way he forced her back into the reality she hated against her will. Because the music box in the signal tower put Six into a fantasy that she didn't want to be separated from, similar to the viewers with the tvs. And what happens when you interrupt the fantasy that the TVs give the viewers? The viewers turn hostile, just like Six when Mono begins to smash the music box. The only difference is that the viewers will try to kill Mono if he disturbs them without turning off the TVs too, but Six initially shares her escapism and fantasy with Mono, she wanted Mono to join her in the fantasy too, and when he begins to force her out of it she then turns hostile. And like the Twitter said: the more of us understand the pain Mono caused Six than we realise.

And remember, the two of them used to call to each other as safety and communication, and now Mono is using that calling system against her. Mono shouts at Six to get to her music box to break it, and each time he hits it Six hunches over and screams in pain, so every hit to the music box causes Six physical pain. Mono tortured Six in his attempt to save her in signal tower. Sure it may be a necessary evil, but that's easily said when you're not the one on the receiving end of said torture, and for her own good or not it was still torturous for Six.

And so finally, after being kidnapped and practically torn in half (Shadow Six's creation) by the monster that Mono let out (and Six tried to prevent that from happening), being twisted and turned into a monster, torturously forced back to the reality she hated by Mono, given no time to process what just happened because the flesh walls start giving chase immediately afterwards and just barely managing to get onto the ledge near the exit - do you really think that an already mentally ill 9 year old kid would be in the right state of mind to think rationally and make a well thought out decision? Especially when everything around her is literally still collapsing? The platform that Six was on broke off and fell shortly after she began entering the exit, so whether she knew that would happen or not either way she had to think fast but was not in the right state of mind to think rationally, so she let go.

Obviously none of this justifies Mono getting dropped, but it explains why she did it and shows that it's not really her fault, it's not Mono's fault either because he didn't know that the Thin Man was behind the door and it seemed like breaking the music box was the only way to get Six out of the Signal Tower. And like Mervik said, they both have different perspectives on this:

Mono sees this as "I was trying to help her and this how she thanks me?"

And Six sees it as "I tried to stop him from releasing a monster from the TV that tore something out of me and took me to a horrible place that tortured me and turned me into a monster but took me to a fantasy that helped ease my pain. Later my friend came and I was so excited to see him again despite him releasing a monster that did this to me and even offered him to join me in the fantasy, but instead he forces me back to the reality that I hate. No matter how much I screamed from the pain, he kept doing it anyway. After everything I did for him, this is the thanks I get?"

Of course we play the game as Mono, so we get only his perspective of this, making it biased since the game doesn't easily offer Six's perspective of this.

So in conclusion: there was once a Thin Man that wasn't Mono, so Thin Man's existence isn't Six's doing. Thin Man's, Mono's AND Six's actions ALL cause the cycle to repeat, but none of them were in the right state of mind or knew that any of this would happen, so it's neither of their fault. What happened on that ledge was all a misunderstanding and miscommunication didn't help in that regard, but of course the signal tower ensured that this would happen because the flesh walls subtly help Mono make it to the ledge to ensure that Six dropping him does happen, because if he falls into the pit normally it just goes back to the previous checkpoint, the game only continued when Mono gets betrayed by Six. The Signal Tower needed Mono to be broken by Six's betrayal to infect him with escapism and turn him into Thin Man. It also needed Six to not be in the state of mind to think rationally, so every hit to the music box caused Six pain and tortured her and it began chasing immediately afterwards to make sure that Mono couldn't explain to Six why he did that. Only after an unknown number of years does it offer escapism to Mono, now Thin Man, being 

so he goes back to the past and betrays Six by kidnapping her and creating Shadow Six, whatever Shadow Six might be. Keep in mind that this version of Six was innocent; she did nothing wrong to Mono at that point, so it's grossly unfair for Mono to lash out at her for betraying him because this version of Six didn't do that yet. And whether it was out of vengeance or for a 'second chance', Six didn't consent to being taken away to the Signal Tower, so Mono's actions of kidnapping the innocent version of Six is both selfish of him and betraying her. And in doing so it allowed the Signal Tower to set up its trap for young Mono again.

So Mono and Six betrayed each other, and the Signal Tower wanted this to happen. Since neither of them knew that this would happen, and didn't intend for everything to turn out like this, it's neither of their fault.

Apologies that this is an essay, but this everything I have to say about why the blame shouldn't be pinned on Six or Mono. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk, hope you enjoyed.

Bonus. If anyone is still asking why Six are the Nome instead of the sausage, the devs have already answered this too:

[mmmmalo]

For anyone still under the impression that June Egbert is just a product of the Toblerone wishes with no particular relevance to Homestuck proper, here's an argument to the contrary: that June (or whatever you like to call her) was already here, woven into John's relationship with the idea of Dad.

Act 1 has a certain preoccupation with the ideal forms of things, John having multiple instances of saying X isn't a REAL X unless it has this or that characteristic. "A fire BELONGS in a fireplace, categorically." One of those outbursts touches upon masculinity, with John saying a gentleman without a monocle is a piss-poor excuse for such. Along such a paradigm, you might gather that something like John saying the beaglepuss sucks as a disguise or trying (and failing) to integrate Dad's pipe into the façade communicates that John is kind of grasping at this ideal of masculinity exemplified by Dad and getting frustrated that he can't seem to measure up to it (or that masculinity feels "fake" on him).

This sort of dynamic is more blatant with Dave, who talks openly about how he isn't a "hero", not really, measuring himself against the impossible standards set by his Bro. But as much was already implicit in Act 1.

Later it gets established that John has some kind of fear of heights: the first ogres appear after John experiences vertigo from almost falling off the stairs, and again after getting launched by the pogo hammer. (Just as Karkat suspected he was given a planet covered in his own blood as a form of harassment, Sburb placed John's house on that needle plateau because of this fear of heights; the game generally manifests adversaries in response to fear). The phobia becomes relevant to Dad stuff after the ogre fight is over, when John is hesitating to jump down into Dad's room: it isn't just that John's nervous about entering the room for the first time, the descent itself makes John anxious. Furthermore, this juxtaposition serves to establish that the fear of heights and anxieties around Dad are related somehow, if not outright synonymous. The two are associated again at the beginning of Act 5 Act 2, when dream!John tries to jump over a canyon to reach Dad, but awakens mid-leap. The formal reason John awakens is Vriska of course, but if we ignore her we're left with John approaching Dad and immediately experiencing vertigo. (The name "June" comes from Vriska contacting John shortly after this dream, incidentally)

This comes up again when John finds Dad's wallet and gets overwhelmed by the prospect of Manhood and the responsibilities it entails -- next thing you know John is flying around in Dad's car, having fun... and after the scene is interrupted by Seek the Highblood, we return to find John crashing the car (another fall from the sky!) and talking with Vriska about dread surrounding societal expectations, and the possibility of rejecting them to pursue something different for yourself. John came into the scene worried (if quietly) about the expectations surrounding manhood, so the Vriska conversation serves to makes those kind of concerns more vivid.

The car crash is itself kind of a metaphor for that conversation's trajectory... in Act 6 we see something analogous play out among the Dersites who have gotten into dapper-wear: one Dersite sits on a hat, panics about ruining it, and then begins to wonder if perhaps a crumpled hat could have a value of its own, aesthetically. (Dirk expresses this sort of counter-assessment more bombastically: "...the next best thing. By which you mean, the vastly superior thing.") Dad Crocker swoops in to condemn the crumpled hat, but the Dersite's tentative revaluation of an apparent failure mode is something the scene shares with Vriska, who initially regards her ambivalence towards murder as a symptom of personal failure, unbefitting her caste. John enters that conversation with a crumpled car, and from context we can guess John's revaluation concerns "failing" to be a man in the way Dad is, and how maybe that doesn't need to be considered a failure.

As laid out so far, I guess none of this quite necessitates trans-Egbert, since people can come at "anxiety and reservations at the prospect of embodying masculine ideals" from a number of angles... but there are other considerations which make me think wrestling with self-deprecating thoughts like "I'm a failed man" are maybe comorbid with a budding sense of being a girl, in Egbert's case.

Foremost, I think it helps to recognize that Dad's car can function as a symbol of John's body. To sketch a case for that:

1a. Death often means transformation: the trolls die in questcocoons to reach the godtiers, suggesting that death stands between the caterpillar and the butterfly, their too solid flesh dissolved into a goo.

1b. A command in Act 1 implores John to "retrieve arms from MAGIC CHEST". John complies twofold: we see some fake arms retrieved from the toy chest, held up by John's real arms which have been "retrieved" from John's ostensibly armless torso.

2. This dual usage of chest is deployed in part 3 of Openbound, in service of building a dysphoria metaphor (among other things). The segment reintroduces us to Fiduspawn, a game in which one creature hatches from another, a host creature, killing the host in the process (fans of the Alien films may recognize this as derivative of the "chestburster", fans of Homestuck may recognize this as analogous to godtiering). Damara (who Rufioh refers to as "doll") becomes the host plush, who is accused of locking away Rufioh's "happy thought" (Tinkerbull) in her "chest". Rufioh's beef with Damara serves to illustrate an adversarial relationship with one's own body, the ways in which the body itself seems to function as a barrier to some happiness. The carnal imprisonment of euphoria (the "happy thought") represents dysphoria. The conversation between Kanaya and Porrim which follows has analogous content and offers a potential resolution to such a conflict, with Kanaya coming to distinguish her body from the reproductive duties assigned to her body by her caste's place in society, and knowing that she is not "bound" to the Matriorb by any will but her own...

3. But the paradigm of Fiduspawn reminds us that the act of actually ripping the happy thought out of your chest has suicidal overtones, when taken literally. And Aradiabot notwithstanding, the inner ghosts the kids give up are often green: Dirkbot tears out his uranium heart and explodes, Rose peels pink bricks off the green core of an island and wonders aloud if her existence is a mistake, and (returning to our main topic!) John tries to retrieve the green package from Dad's car. The retrieval of the box comes to represents the birth of the self from its shell, the now broken body, a gesture which overlaps with the pursuit of death.

So we can infer that Dad is akin to Damara here, having locked the desired object (the box, the "happy thought") within a container that we can identify with John's own body. Thus Vriska's talk of perhaps rejecting her assigned role in society proceeds naturally from the wreckage of Dad's car: insofar as the car functions as an emblem of the masculine expectations imposed upon John, the car's wreckage suggests the possibility of liberation from those expectations, liberation from your own body. John is "sick to death of cake" -- cake is a Life symbol imposed by Dad, in visceral excess, accumulating as every birthday marches John towards Manhood. The possibility of living as a girl does not seem to have occurred to John yet, life and masculinity seem inextricable and absolute. The first time John sees Dad's car totaled (after Rose drops it), the symbol of self-as-corpse is surrounded by yellow bands of caution tape. The Authority Regulator who placed the tape will later declare himself to be THE LAW, and we should take his word for it: the scene's function is to declare that the crumpled car, the "dead" and therefore feminized body, is forbidden to John. No surprise then that as John marches to her death, in defiance of the Law's prohibition, she-whose-name-does-not-yet-suit-her is met with impressions of several maps that actually align with their territories: troll movies whose titles are their contents in full, a rocket encoded by the sound PCHOOOOO. John wants that for herself, I think. And as @lscholar once pointed out, it’s worth noting that John's pursuit of this unity (this pursuit of "death") is interrupted by Dave, who in saving John's life repeatedly emphasizes their status as "bros" -- masculinity being, again, inextricable from life within John’s symbol system.

...and that's the short of it. A more detailed account might get into the association of Vriska and other blue girls with the feminized corpse, or read into Equius self-consciously roleplaying as a cat girl between John’s joyride and crash, or perhaps try to apply this car-body framework to the appearances of Dad's car in the Epilogues. And I haven’t even touched upon clowns...but I'll call it here for now.

[gifted-burnout-archive]

Like It’s Now Or Never

Requested?: Yes. You lot wanted JaTP smut, so here it is.

Word Count: 10.5K+ (oops)

Author’s Note: Three things. 1. This was meant to be up last night, sorry. 2. This was posted and then deleted because Tumblr didn’t show any of the text. 3. I’ve based the concert off of this Sunset Curve: Greatest Hits playlist by @pattersonluke​ who I absolutely adore. Linking it here, please check it out!

Warning: smut, duh. 

Quick Context: this is an AU where the band don’t die, so alive!Luke x Reader

--

Y/N Y/L/N was used to being overlooked by people.

It wasn’t something that particularly bothered her, a teen of rather nervous disposition, and often meant she was able to operate without interruption. At school, she kept good grades while never being touted as a scholar; at work, she picked up extra shifts and was her manager’s favourite without ever being called out as ‘Employee of the Month’. She was a quiet soul, something she had been told she got from her grandfather.

It made it all the more impossible for people to believe she was really managing her cousin’s rock band.

“Woah, woah…” A bouncer about twice the girl’s height knocked on the window of her car as she parked in the alleyway by the Orpheum, prompting Y/N to struggle with the old Volvo’s window crank until she could poke her head out and let the man finish what he had to say. “Sorry sweetie, you can’t park here. We’ve got a band playing tonight, need this space for official vehicles only.”

“Oh, that’s me. I’m an official vehicle. Manager to Sunset Curve.” Y/N responded with a smile, lifting her hand and stretching it out the window to greet the bouncer.

“You?” He asked, sincere in his surprise, and Y/N responded by rummaging around and locating the backstage pass she had been gifted earlier in the day. When the bouncer’s boss had told them the band had equipment arriving that night, the last person he thought would bring it was a teenage girl no more than seventeen.

“Indeed. Would you mind helping me bring the stuff inside?” She asked, waiting for the bouncer to step back before exiting the vehicle, jumping out onto the street and looking up at the towering man. “Everything’s labelled, if you just leave it in the hall it would be really helpful.” She explained, walking round to the car’s trunk and opening it up to show an array of neatly packed boxes and instruments. The bouncer followed, chuffing in pleasant surprise at how tidy everything looked: he was pretty sure that the t-shirts had been folded with tissue paper to avoid creasing. Not something he saw with every rock band. “Sorry, I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”

“Mac… Any order I need to follow or…” The bouncer asked, and Y/N shook her head, running round to the front passenger seat to lift out her handbag and a stack of pizza boxes.

“If you just get it in the hallway, Mac. I can sort everything out from there.” She smiled over, headed for the door. “I had a feeling I’d need someone’s help getting all this in with the boys on stage, so I’ve got you a pizza from Alfredo’s on 9th to say thank you.” She added, and Mac looked up with a smile. He had certainly never met a band manager who had bought him pizza before. Not just pizza, either: Alfredo’s on 9th pizza.

“I’ll be sure not to break anything then.” He responded, and Y/N tossed him over her car keys before pulling open the Orpheum’s side door with her foot and making her way down the hall.

A few steps into the building, Y/N was welcomed by feedback, the band starting their sound check, shortly followed by a wave of music that hit her like a high-speed train and caused her to pause. She took a moment acquainting herself with the volume change, a smile appearing on her face as she heard the familiar sound of her best friend’s voice before she made her way further into the building. She had been there the day before, dropping off the drum kit and amps, and she memorised the building’s floor plan, and quickly locating the staircase she needed to head down and taking it with a sure set pace.

It took Y/N no more than a minute to emerge from the tangle of backstage passageways onto the venue’s main floor, pizzas still perfectly balanced in one hand while she rummaged through her bag for something. She quickly made her way over to the bar in the room’s centre, setting the pizzas down on the countertop as she pulled an inhaler from her purse, and looked up as someone cleared their throat over the music.

Y/N’s eyes met those of the bartender, a girl maybe a year older than her, with her hand caught underneath the stack of pizzas Y/N had absentmindedly placed down.

“I’m so sorry!” She squeaked, lifting the boxes off the girl’s hand only to be met with a smile and light laugh.

“It’s alright, just teasing.” She called over the music, then gestured to the band. “They’re good, right?” She said with smile, and Y/N turned to look at the stage, finally taking the chance to stop and enjoy the music.

No matter how many times she saw her friends in action, their music always seemed to take her breath away. On that stage, the boys she had grown up with had never been more themselves. They radiated this confidence and energy that made you want to sing along, the sort of pull that Y/N had only witnessed with bands like Queen, ACDC: it was an undeniable star power. Up there, under the blazing lights and playing together, those boys had the ability to melt away all her troubles, make them vanish under the bang of drums and the shredding of guitar.

She watched until their sound check ended, clapping wildly and whooping along with the bartender as the guys caught their breath, taking it as her cue to head up there and join them, scooping up the inhaler as she made her way onto the stage.

“Thank you, we’re Sunset Curve. Tell your friends.” Reggie, Y/N’s very own blood, said into the mic, sending a wink towards the bartender and earning a punch in the arm from Y/N as she passed by him. “Hey!” He pouted, though it didn’t last long.

“Too bad we wasted that on sound check. That’s the tightest we’ve ever played!” Bobby commented as he set down his guitar and grabbed a towel, fist bumping Luke as he turned back around.

“Just wait until tonight, man, when this place gets packed with record execs.” Luke was practically vibrating with excitement, and Y/N smiled on as the boys congregated.

“Alex, you were smoking.” Reggie complimented their drummer as he came down from his stand, drumsticks in hand.

“Oh, no.” Alex responded with a shrug. “I was just warming up. You guys were the ones on fire.” He gestured to the other three.

“Could you just own your awesomeness for once?” Reggie asked with a waving of his hands that nearly hit Y/N in the face, but she was quick enough to dodge it.

“… All right, I was killing it!” Alex admitted, Luke’s hands coming up to pat his bandmate on the shoulders, shaking the lanky blonde a little from his own excitement.

“Nicely done, guys.” Y/N spoke up, the four pairs of eyes landing on her, each with a bright smile on their faces. Her best friends, all together, all happy: it made her heart swell. “First off, Alex.” She turned, tossing over the inhaler. “You left it in my car this morning. Don’t let it happen again.” He caught it quickly, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ before shoving it in his pocket. “Second, I got Alfredo’s.” She gestured to the pizza boxes on the counter beside the pretty bartender and, in a chorus of whoops, the four guys rushed passed her and jumped off the stage, Reggie first to the boxes and shoving a slice of pizza into his mouth before Y/N had even got herself back on the main floor.

“You guys are really good.” The bartender complimented, continuing her previous activity of buffing the bar before the soundcheck had happened. For the first time in a while, she was excited to be working.

“Thank you.” Luke said with a dopey grin, sorting through the stack and pulling out the one labelled with his name, promptly digging into a delicious slice of pepperoni.

“I see a lot of bands. Been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it.” She continued, Y/N walking up and joining the boys, lifting out one of the pizza boxes and setting it to the side for Mac the bouncer, before sliding down Bobby’s and Alex’s. Reggie was already on his second slice.

“That’s what we do this for. I’m Luke, by the way.”

“Hi, I’m Reggie.” A muffled add on.

“Alex.”

“Bobby.” He winked at the bartender, and Y/N stifled a laugh at the dark-haired boy’s attempt at flirting.

“Nice meeting you guys.” Luke noticed the eyes Bobby was making at her a moment after Y/N, sticking a finger in his mouth before shoving it in the taller boy’s ear. “I’m Rose.” The bartender introduced, and Reggie quickly grabbed his cousin’s purse off the counter, opening it up and grinning when he saw a top and CD inside, pulling them out.

“I was gonna…” Y/N sighed as she watched Reggie turn back to Rose with the objects in hand, one of them being the shirt Y/N had planned to change into for that night.

“So, uh. Here’s our demo, and a t-shirt. Size beautiful.” He handed them over with raise of the eyebrows, Alex and Y/N groaning at the same time.

“Thanks! I’ll be sure not to wipe the tables down with this one.” Rose grinned, and Alex swallowed the slice of pizza he chewed on.

“Oh, good call. Whenever they get wet, they just kinda… fall apart in your hands.” He admitted with a nervous laugh, and Bobby leaned forward on the bar.

“Vegan-friendly though. I could… I could never hurt an animal.” He said with a dashing smile to Rose, and Y/N quickly realised why the boy had called her up not a half hour before to change his food order to ‘something, anything vegetarian’. “Hey Y/N, won’t you be needing a hand with the guitars? The boxes… stuff?” He asked, the girl looking up and rolling her eyes at Bobby before nodding quickly, picking up the pizza for Mac while Luke, Alex, and Reggie grabbed their own food.

“He had a hamburger for lunch.” Luke called as he followed his friends towards the hallway that led backstage, earning a glare from Bobby before he turned back to the pretty bartender. Y/N had a feeling they wouldn’t see him again until call time.

“I’ll be back in two, gotta get this to the bouncer. Dressing room’s down the stairs to the right.” Y/N instructed the guys, who headed off towards the comfy couches and air con while she made her way back to the side door, the contents of her car neatly stacked along the wall. “Mac, you are an angel.” She said softly to herself.

“Well, I try.” She received a reply from the bouncer, stood outside the door, and smiled wider, placing down his pizza on a shelf by the exit, and picking up her car keys from the surface. “Need anything else?” He called through.

“No thanks, I got it from here! Enjoy the food!” She said back, quickly lifting the first stack of boxes and balancing them along the corridor.

By the time she had finished moving everything to where she needed it; the t-shirts and demo CDs to front of house, the smoke machine and spare strings and picks to stage side; the guitars along to the dressing rooms, the boys had already finished their pizzas, and were now raiding the complimentary snack basket from the venue.

She kicked open the dressing room door to find her cousin and friends three quarters of the way through a fruit bowl of trail mix.

“You guys seriously never stop eating, do you?” She asked, setting down the instruments and collapsing into an armchair, letting out a sigh of relief. Her evening was only beginning, of course, but she was ahead of schedule, and felt she deserved to sink into the chair’s comforting embrace. “What do you think Bobby’s chances are of getting the pretty bartender’s number?” she asked, her eyes closing as her muscles relaxed.

“30, 40%?” Alex offered, receiving a laugh from Reggie.

“More like zero.” He said through a mouth of nuts and Reece’s Pieces.

“What, like you could get it, cuz?” Y/N asked, her eyebrow raising despite her eyes still being closed.

“Tell me why we let Y/N hang around again?” Reggie responded, his tone playful and lacking the malice one might normally accompany with the rhetoric, and Y/N’s eyes opened as a smile spread over her lips, the happiness radiating from them all.

“Maybe because she’s the person who got us this gig?” Luke offered, walking over and ruffling Y/N’s hair with a laugh as she swatted at him. “Plus, Alex and I are living in her garage…” He shrugged, and sent a grin Y/N’s way as she fixed her hair back to its original styling.

“Yeah, and!” Alex chimed in, leaning back against one of the vanity’s with his hands in his pockets. “None of you ever remember my inhaler. And I’ve never seen someone restring and tune a guitar as fast as Y/N… And like, also the whole best manager in the world thing.” He added, and Y/N found herself sitting up a little.

“To be honest Reggie, I think what the guys are saying is: I’m amazing, and you’re really lucky you play bass.” She teased her older cousin with a cheeky grin, earning laughs from Luke and Alex while Reggie looked on, a little confused.

“Wait, what do you mean I’m lucky I play bass?” He asked, not quite catching on to what she implied, and only making his three friends laugh more.

“Ok, ok.” Y/N said after a moment, pulling herself off the chair and walking over to the stack of instruments, lifting a tote bag from amongst the cases. “So, I was obviously out today doing errands.” She began, walking back over and sitting down on the edge of the chair Luke lounged in, the boy smiling up at her as she did. “But I made a little pitstop.” Her hands reached into the bag, her tongue sticking out as she felt around the canvas, quickly pulling out a square box. “Reggie.” She said with a grin, handing over the present to the boy, whose eyes had lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. He lifted the box’s lid off slowly.

“No way!” He yelled, lifting the device out the box with care, Luke and Alex leaning over to see what it was.

“I know you’ve been using one you bought at the flea market when we were 13 for years, and I thought… Well, you only get a first time playing the Orpheum once. Thought you should try it out on a new bass pedal… That also works with the banjo.” She smiled, looking back in the bag and pulling out the second gift as Reggie marvelled at the item in his hands. “Alex.” She called, throwing the next gift to the blond boy, who already had a feeling what might be inside the long, thin box.

“How much did you spend on this stuff, Y/N?” Luke asked as Alex lifted out a set of drumsticks, twirling one through his fingers and grinning from ear to ear as he noticed the engraving on them.

“Sunset Curve…” He said softly, showing the engraving on the butt of the sticks to Reggie. “Thanks Y/N.”

“Bobby can get his later, serves him right for flirting and not joining in on band bonding time so…” Y/N sat one of the gifts on the table before pulling the final present from her bag, an envelope with ‘Sunset Curve’ in cursive on the front.

“Y/N… How much did you spend on this?” Luke asked with a frown. He wasn’t the best at math, but he knew working part time at a diner did not cover the cost of a top-grade bass pedal and personalised drumsticks, plus whatever she had bought Bobby.

“Yours just took effort, Patterson.” She said with a smile, and Luke raised an eyebrow. “I worked some extra shifts, ok? Now open your goddamn present or I’ll take it back!” She exclaimed, reaching out to snatch the gift back, put Luke held just out of her reach.

“I’ll open it! I’ll open it, alright?!” Luke yelled as Y/N reached over him, stretching for the envelope. “But if you take any more extra shifts, I will personally come into that crappy diner and carry you out.” He warned, and Y/N sat back down, her hands tucked between her knees as Luke’s fingers tore open the paper. He tipped the envelope rip-side down, a letter falling onto his lap. Luke lifted it up to inspect closer.

“What is it?” Alex asked, Reggie still engrossed in his own present to notice the expression of shock on Luke’s face as he turned to a beaming Y/N.

“Is this real?” He asked, looking up at her. Y/N nodded quickly, and within an instant Luke had stood up and lifted her off the ground, spinning her as he hugged her by the waist, Y/N letting out a squeal as her best friend spun her around.

“Ok, why is it that Y/N gets hugs without even asking?!” Alex asked, receiving a middle finger from their lead guitarist, and prompting Reggie to walk over with his arms open. “Don’t touch me.”

“Well, this is why no-one hugs you.” Reggie muttered, and Luke finally set Y/N down, passing the letter over to Reggie, Alex quickly at the bassist’s shoulder.

“Dear Miss Y/L/N. The demo album you recently sent to our label crossed my desk this afternoon.” Alex read aloud, Luke holding onto Y/N still. “Sunset Curve is exactly the new sound I’ve been looking for… Looking forward to seeing them live…” Alex skimmed through his narration, picking out the most important phrases. “Looking forward to meeting you, Chris Baxter.” He stopped, looking up at Y/N and Luke.

“For a second I thought that said Chris Baxter, like Fall Down Records Chris Baxter.” Reggie laughed, looking around to see Y/N, Luke and Alex staring at him. “Wait… Wait, wait, wait.”

“Y/N got Chris Baxter coming to our show.” Luke almost yelled from excitement, the realisation quickly dawning on his bandmates and causing them to race forward, engulfing Y/N in a hug, the poor girl trapped in the middle.

“Need… To tell… Bobby.” She muttered out, struggling to breathe, and the boys let her go. She grabbed their rhythm guitarist’s present from the table, pressing the letter to Luke’s chest as she left. “What would you guys do without me?” She asked with a grin, and Luke smiled right back, his eyes trailing after her as she rounded the corner out into the hallway.

“Watch out, Luke.” Reggie said after Y/N was gone, snapping his fingers in front of Luke’s face. “You were practically drooling all over my cousin there.”

“He was drooling, Reggie. Puppy dog eyes and everything.” Alex remarked with a cheeky grin, and Luke frowned at the pair.

“She’s my best friend.”

“So you’ve been saying for the past 6 years.” Reggie rolled his eyes, starting back on the trail mix.

“Because it’s true.” Luke stated, his eyebrows gathering close, and Alex let out a laugh.

“Keep telling yourself that… At this rate, Bobby is winning the bet.” The blond sighed.

“What bet?” Luke asked again, sitting back down, turning the letter over to re-read the words.

“Well, Alex said you two would be dating by 16. I said 18. Bobby said never. Whoever is closest wins.” Reggie said with a full mouth, and Luke sighed.

“She doesn’t like me like that. You both know that.” He said softly, running his fingers over the name printed on the letter: Chris Baxter.

She really was the best friend a guy could ask for.

--

Y/N’s night was nothing short of busy.

After presenting Bobby with his new Capo for his guitar, she found herself rushing around once more: to get herself ready in the backstage bathroom, slipping on one of the tops she had packed so carefully in tissue paper since Reggie decided to give her own shirt away, fixing her hair and makeup, slipping into a pair of shorts instead of the yoga pants she had been running about in earlier; to set up the merchandise stand at one of the booths with their albums and t-shirts ready to sell; to discuss timings with the front of house staff; to chat with the light crew and stage hands about special effects and a last minute draw up for one of the song’s, which involved a spotlight on Luke.

By the time people were filing in, Y/N had drunk three cups of coffee and downed four cans of Coca-Cola, knowing the worst thing she could do was burn out.

However, it all seemed to be worth it. The crowd was killer, with more people than Y/N could have ever imagined making their way into the Orpheum. It seemed to be bursting at the seams, and by the time the house lights were going down, Y/N had sold half of their t-shirt stock and two-thirds of the CDs, not to mention the chant that had started to get the boys on stage.

“Sunset Curve! Sunset Curve!” The crowd cheered, a few of the faces ones that Y/N recognised from school, some complete strangers, but all of them here to see the boys play. As another group of kids came up asking for t-shirts, the resonating sound of Reggie’s bass filled the air.

All attention turned to the stage as Y/N’s cousin walked on stage, beginning to pluck out an improved bass line, applause starting up as he placed his right foot down and the sound became more and more distorted: he was making quick use of his gift.

Bobby was next, joining in on a melody line for nothing in particular, walking on stage and sending a wink to the girls in the front that left one stumbling into her friends. His fingers were nimble on the strings, making the work put into the skill seem effortless, and the crowd began to clap along in time with the beat.

The claps brought in Alex, who sat himself down at the drum kit and started a steady bass, snare, hi-hat line, gulping down the lump in his throat as he looked out at the crowd, adrenaline taking over.

“Good evening Los Angeles!” He called into the mic, the crowd exploding into cheers and applause, the three members on stage sharing a smile. “Are you ready to rock?!” He asked, receiving a unanimous shout of ‘Yes!’ from the few hundred people that had crammed themselves into the venue.

For a moment, everything went dead silent, Alex, Reggie and Bobby halting their playing and leaving the crowd confused, only to then continue with the thunderous applause as Luke ran on stage, taking his position at front and centre as Alex tapped his new drumsticks together.

“One, two! One, two, three…”

The whole show flowed perfectly. The band started with ‘Now or Never’, moving quickly onto ‘Rest in Peace’ and ’The Anthem’, the second of which got the crowd jumping along as the boys sang together. The feeling in the crowd was electric, and as their third song of the night ended, Y/N was sold out of CDs and on the last of her t-shirts.

“Welcome, everyone, to the Orpheum!” Luke called into his mic, Y/N looking up at the stage as he began to speak. “It is such an honour to be playing here tonight, it really is, and before we continue, we just want to thank you all for listening and sharing in our music.” He called out, earning whistles and clapping from the crowd. “We’re slowing it down for this next one, we hope you enjoy… Unsaid Emily.” Luke announced, taking off his electric and switching it for the acoustic sat behind him. Y/N watched him as he fiddled with the capo, a plectrum between his teeth and his whole body shimmering with a thin layer of sweat, captivated by her friend so much it took a yell for her to tune back into reality.

“Sorry…” She apologised to the girls waiting, giving them the t-shirt prices and taking their cash with a smile.

“Do you know the band?” One asked, pulling her t-shirt over the clothes she was already wearing.

“Yeah, I do. In fact-” Y/N started, but was quickly cut off.

“Will you give Luke my number?” The second asked, handing over a scrap of paper to Y/N, who looked at the phone number with astonishment.

“And Bobby mine.” The first demanded, placing her scrap of paper atop the other in Y/N’s hand before they shoved their way to the front row. Y/N slipped the piece into her shorts pocket, serving the next customer as Luke began to sing, sitting himself down on the edge of the stage and serenading the same girls Y/N just met.

Another two songs later, one of them being Alex’s original ‘Coming Clean’, and Y/N had closed up the merchandise stand, allowing the audience to take over that booth while she made her way back stage. She swung her way round the stair bannister, breaking into a light jog to reach the wings, quickly attending to the guitars that needed re-stringed, and setting up the smoke machine for the final number, a song Luke had written only a week or so before called ‘Bright’.

“So here's your holiday.” Y/N looked up from the smoke machine as Reggie came to the last chorus of the song he wrote, their penultimate tune of the night, Luke harmonising with him. “Hope you enjoy it this time. You gave it all away, it was mine. So when you're dead and gone, will you remember this night? Twenty years now lost… It's not right.” The pair sang with Alex and Bobby on backing vocals, the crowd with their lighters in the air, swaying along as Bobby played the outro, Reggie running off-stage with the applause, busted bass in hand.

“Got a fresh bass, little cuz?” Reggie asked, taking a moment to catch his breath. Y/N tossed him a towel to wipe down his hands and face of sweat, tuning the last string on the second bass. The pair did an exchange, towel and bass guitar. “Fog machine ready?” Reggie asked, and Y/N gave a firm nod.

“Now get out there and seal the deal. I saw Baxter earlier.” Y/N explained, giving him a thumbs up as he ran back on stage, and she knelt down to start the fog machine as Bobby plucked out the opening chords of their closer, Luke coming close to his mic to sing.

“Sometimes I think I'm falling down, I wanna cry, I'm calling out for one more try to feel alive.” Luke sang, Reggie coming in with a mellow bass line. “And when I feel lost and alone I know that I can make it home. Fight through the dark and find the spark. Life is a risk, but I will take it, close my eyes and jump.” Alex started on a bass drum beat, building up to the chorus, and Luke glanced over into the wings, spotting Y/N. She smiled and waved, quickly giving him a thumbs up as he continued. “Together, I think that we can make it, c'mon let's run. And rise through the night, you and I we will fight to shine together, bright forever. And rise through the night, you and I we will fight to shine together, bright forever.” Luke and Reggie sang over the screams and cheers of the crowd, Y/N watching on from the wings with a grin, Luke glancing over at her for a second time as Bobby took the next verse.

And for a second, she could have sworn Luke winked at her.

Y/N found herself busied for the rest of the song, packing up guitars while she kept a watch on the fog machine in her peripheral, refusing to look back at the stage until she heard the song ending. At that point, she started taking things from the stage area to the hallway by the side entrance.

“We’re Sunset Curve! Tell your friends!” She heard the band shout in unison as they ended their show, the applause alone enough to make someone’s ears ring.

She kicked open the side door, fishing her car keys out her pocket before hearing a polite cough to her left.

“Need a hand?” A deep, male voice asked, and Y/N looked over to find the voice’s owner. “Maybe you could point me in the direction of Y/N Y/L/N afterwards?” The man suggested, taking two of the four instrument cases Y/N had in hand, allowing Y/N to unlock the car’s trunk and place in the guitars.

“Might I ask who you are?” She quizzed, walking back to the side door, and smiling as one of the employee’s brought along the fog machine for her. She quickly picked hit up and waddled out to the car with it, setting it in carefully.

“Chris Baxter.” Y/N slammed the trunk shut as he gave his name, turning to face him with a surprised smile.

“Wow… Y/N Y/L/N.” She held out a hand, the man taking it and shaking firmly. “It’s... It’s an honour to meet you, sir.” She started, but he waved it off with a smiling, their hands dropping.

“No, it’s an honour to meet you.” Chris countered. “You had some balls coming in last week with that demo…” Y/N went red at his words, scratching the back of her neck.

“Traditional methods weren’t working?” She laughed nervously, and Chris grinned.

“No, no they weren’t. But blasting the album on a boom box in my record label’s HQ was certainly a risqué move, Miss Y/L/N.” He almost reminded her that her stunt the week before was a one-off thing, and Y/N nodded in agreement: she would never be doing that again.

“You did what?” Luke asked from the doorway, the four boys staring at her and Chris Baxter in shock, and her eyes widened, the girl quickly changing the subject.

“Sunset Curve, Chris Baxter from Fall Down Records. Chris Baxter, meet Bobby, Reggie, Alex and Luke.” She introduced, Chris walking forward and shaking each boy’s hand, unphased by their dishevelled and sweaty appearances.

“That show was… Absolutely terrific. I’ve already listened to the album three times this past week, and I didn’t know how you could top the sounds on that, but you all clearly can.” Chris complimented as he went down the line.

“The boys are, above all else, a live band.” Y/N chipped in with a nervous smile, begging the boys to say something, anything.

“Mr Baxter, thank you so much for coming.” Alex came back to reality first. “Your work with Pink Floyd on the Dark Side album was incredible.” He said with a smile, and Chris smiled back.

“I’m quite proud of that one, so thank you. And please, call me Chris.” He dropped the formality quickly. “Look, I won’t keep you. After a gig like that, you should all be out celebrating. I just wanted to say well done, and ask if a meeting next Monday would work for all of you? My label would be interested in signing you on, and of course you’ll be meeting with other teams… I just wanted to get right in there, show you all what we can offer.” Chris was blunt, straight to the point, and it caught them all off-guard.

“Did you just say…” Reggie trailed off from the shock.

“A record deal? With Fall Down?” Luke clarified, still rather astonished by whatever Y/N had done to get the biggest record label head on the West Coast to come to their concert.

“Hopefully more than one record, but yes.” Chris grinned, and Reggie had to nudge Bobby from his shock induced freeze.

“Next Monday is free for all of us, Chris.” Y/N stepped in, realising the guys wouldn’t do much good. “Shall we say 2.30?” She suggested, and Chris nodded, his hands going back into his coat pockets as he started on his way out the alley.

“You know where my office is, Miss Y/L/N.” He called back, four pairs of eyes landing on the girl as she took a shaky breath.

“You just…” Reggie started, but couldn’t find the words.

“Chris Baxter…” Bobby muttered.

“Best manager ever.” Alex assured.

“We did it…” Luke said softly, looking around his friends with wild eyes. “We played the Orpheum!” He yelled to the sky. The boys and Y/N soon joined in the shout, hugs shared amongst the team before they bundled together in a group hug, bouncing from the excitement.

“We need to celebrate properly. Tattoos?” Bobby suggested, to the delight of Reggie and the worry of Alex.

“The club on 6th?” Alex offered instead, and Y/N smiled as the boys tried to come up with a plan for their night out, slipping passed them back inside to collect the last of their belongings. The drum kit and amps would be a job for the morning, but everything else had to go, and as quickly as possible.

Where the guys were messy, Y/N was efficient and clean: the dressing room went from a bomb site to sparkling clean in a matter of minutes, which she packed into one of the boxes as a chap came on the door.

“Uh, Y/N?” The girl turned to see Rose, the bartender, stood in the doorway. “Tell the guys I loved the show. These,” she passed over a small bundle of cards no bigger than a credit card. “are for you. Record label execs, as Luke called them.” She explained, and the pair shared a giggle.

“Thank you Rose, I was just about to find you.” Y/N explained, slipping the cards into her back pocket. Rose left with a smile and a wave, allowing Y/N to head back out to the car, only to find that Alex, Reggie and Bobby had all seemed to have disappeared.

“Thought you could use the company.” Luke grinned, lifting the boxes that weighed Y/N down with ease, quickly slipping them into the back seat of her car.

“Luke, you should be out on the town, celebrating.” Y/N insisted, a hand gesturing to Sunset Boulevard and beyond, but Luke caught the hand in his.

“I’d rather help you out. I know for a fact you won’t let yourself have fun until everything is done tonight, and I have enough energy to power a jet plane.” Luke offered his assistance as his leg bounced and his hand locked with Y/N’s before he spun her under his arm. “Please?”

“Get in, Luke.” She responded with a happy sigh as she opened the driver’s side door, Luke bouncing so much on his way round to his side of the car Y/N wondered if he might have eaten a kangaroo by mistake.

“Do you want to stop for burgers?” He asked as they both got in, Y/N looking over at him with a smile and shake of the head, starting the car and following the alley to its exit.

“I swear to God Luke, you don’t stop eating.” She commented, but six years of friendship had made it blatant fact rather than speculation. “Are you sure you want to help me unload all this crap? You should be out with the guys doing something stupid.” She said, starting the short drive back to her house. She only lived a ten-minute drive from the Orpheum, though it never seemed like it. Her house was in the suburbs, tucked away at the end of a cul-de-sac away from prying eyes, and the change from city lights and gum-decorated sidewalk to perfectly-cut front lawns and uniform cherry blossoms trees along the road front made the drive feel like they were entering a completely different world.

“The quicker we do this, the quicker we both get to go out.” Luke shrugged, unable to stop his leg bouncing. “Music, can we at least put on some music?” He asked, opening Y/N’s glove compartment and rummaging through her CD collection. He quickly lifted a disk out and slotted it into the player, fiddling with the control panel of the car as Y/N tried to focus on the road.

The song came on as Luke watched Y/N with a smile, just waiting for her to connect the dots and respond to his song choice. It only took a few chords for her to get it, slowing at a stop light to quite clearly roll her eyes at Luke, who then decided to start singing to her.

“Left a good job in the city, working for the man every night and day. And I never lost one minute of sleeping, worrying about the way things might have been.” Luke put on the twang of the Creedence Clearwater Revival singer, throwing an arm around the back of her seat and leaning over to sing to Y/N, who was doing her best not to smile. “Big wheels keep on turning, Proud Mary keep on burning.” Luke sang right in her ear, and Y/N couldn’t help the giggles from erupting in her as she made one of their journey’s last turns. “And we’re rollin’, rollin’, rollin’ on the river.”

“Cleaned a lotta plates in Memphis,” Y/N reluctantly joined in.

“Yes Y/N!” Luke yelled.

“Pumped a lotta pane down in New Orleans. But I never saw the good side of the city, until I hitched a ride on a river boat queen.” She sang along, pulling onto her road.

“Big wheels keep on turnin’, Proud Mary keep on burning.” They sang together, pulling into Y/N’s driveway but staying in the car. “Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’ on the river.” The sang in harmony, before both brought up air guitars to play the iconic riff together.

“Ba da dum, ba da dum, ba da da da da duhda da dum!” They cried out, both in fits of laughter as Y/N shut the car off, the only light nearby being through the windows of the garage.

“Guess that nonna is fast asleep then.” She said with a smile at her home, the lights all shut off. She glanced at Luke, who was wiping tears from his eyes. “You stay quiet, alright? That woman deserves her rest.” Y/N scolded pre-emptively, and the boy held his hands up in surrender.

“I love your nonna! I won’t wake her, mainly because she lets me stay in your garage.” He pointed out, and Y/N smirked, the pair getting out the car in unison. Luke ran to open the garage doors while Y/N headed for the trunk, lifting out a few guitar cases. Despite the weight of them making her posture sag and her hands hurt, she strode towards the garage, liking the idea of finishing the mundane as quickly as possible: not so much for a night out in LA, rather for some more time with her friends.

“You know, I can’t-” Y/N started to speak as she walked past Luke, setting down the guitars and beginning to sort them into their allotted spaces in the room, only to look back and find the boy frozen. “Oh, right…” She mumbled, forgetting that this was meant to be a surprise for him and Alex later.

Amongst other things, and while the boys stayed over at Bobby’s the night before to get in a last night of practice before the Orpheum gig, Y/N had ventured into the garage to start loading her car, only to be met by cobwebs on their equipment and excessive layers of dust on every surface. She was in the garage a lot, sure, but most of the time she was popping in and out to hear new songs or tell the guys about a new gig she had booked them. And with Alex and Luke spending a lot of time in her house, quite happy to keep her nonna company over lunch with songs and idle chatter, Y/N hadn’t been properly in the garage for a while…

What Luke was gazing upon was an entirely new room from the one he left the day before: the single lightbulb that had lit the place the day before was gone, replaced by string lights that looped around the walls of the room; with surfaces dusted and polished, their clothes neatly folded into a chest of drawers Y/N had brought in, the musical instruments hung up on the walls alongside posters of the boys’ favourite artists. The windows had been cleaned, the floors hoovered and bearing a rug Y/N had found in her attic, Luke’s sofa bed sporting freshly made sheets, Alex’s blow up in the corner in a similar state, an extension of her house’s landline sitting atop one of the shelves…

And a mini fridge installed…

“When did you… How did you…” Luke stuttered in disbelief, Y/N walking back round him to continue unloading the car. “The lights and the guitars and…” Luke tried to start again, falling short of what exactly to say, just watching his best friend walk by and store things in their new locations. When he had asked to couch surf all those months ago, when she had replied without hesitation, Luke didn’t expect much. Then she offered the garage as a full-time hub for the band, and offered Alex a place to stay after coming out to his parents went even worse than expected.

And looking at what she had done, how she had turned the dusty garage into something more, into a home… He was amazed by the girl before him.

“Y/N.” He stopped her for making her last trip to the car, a hand on her arm. The girl looked up and smiled at him, and he smiled right back. “Thank you…”

“Anything for you, you know that.” She replied, meaning the words. It had been the same way since they were kids. “Get yourself a soda, check the voicemail. It’s the number I’ve been giving everyone who wanted to speak with Sunset Curve.” She explained, making her last trip out to the car for the smoke machine and a few loose items. Luke did as he was told, grabbing two cans out of the fridge and glancing over at the phone.

6 new voicemails…

“This… This is crazy.” Luke muttered, cracking open the can of orange soda and sitting on the coffee table as Y/N put the last of their things away, coming to stand in front of him. He handed up a can, which she took with a smile, joining him in taking a sip.

“Crazy is the right word, yes… But it’s exactly what you guys deserve.” Y/N said softly, ruffling his hair before starting a walk around the room.

“I know but… this is crazy. We have a meeting with Chris Baxter, Y/N! All because of you!” Luke jumped up onto the coffee table, standing tall and spinning around. “We have a shot at actually… Actually making this stupid idea work!” He said with a laugh of astonishment.

“Luke, you and the guys earned every bit of this. You are all amazing, and Chris Baxter would be an idiot not to sign you.” Y/N reminded him with a smile, and Luke held a hand out to her. She took it, getting up beside him on the table. “To Sunset Curve.” She proposed, raising her can of soda.

“To making crazy daydreams reality.” Luke offered back, the pair clinking their drinks together. “You know, we should keep this up. Do more crazy stuff tonight! I mean, we’ve been lucky so far.” He suggested, the sugar quickly mixing with his adrenaline and getting the boy hyped up once more.

“What do you have in mind, Patterson? I can drive us along to the club on 6th, the guys are probably still there. Or get us a taxi?” She suggested, coming down from the table and heading over to top drawer of the cabinet the mini fridge sat on, not noticing that Luke’s eyes had settled onto her. “Look! Red Vines!” She showed him with a grin, taking one out the packet and chewing on it thoughtfully. “You know, tattoos don’t sound so stupid now that I think about it.”

“No, Y/N… I mean doing something really stupid.” Luke said softly, and Y/N smiled up at him, oblivious to what Luke actually meant.

“What? You want to go cliff diving? Reggie would be up for it.” She grinned, and Luke felt the breath leave his body.

He wasn’t sure if it was the soda sugar rush, or the adrenaline from the show, or some subconscious death wish, but Luke couldn’t stop himself from jumping off the coffee table, couldn’t stop himself from walking towards Y/N. She was so beautiful, so kind, so sweet, so funny… His best friend…

And Luke took her face in his hands, pressing his lips to hers.

It was chaste, his touch disappearing just as Y/N was about to fall prey to her senses being completely invaded by Luke’s presence, her lips and cheeks tingling from where he had held her, her pupils blown from the shock, the attraction. She had never thought he would have liked her like that, but as he stepped back, surprised by his own recklessness, Y/N wondered why she hadn’t thought of him like that before.

In fact, as they stared at each other from across the room, both recovering from Luke’s actions, all she could think about was the past near seven years of friendship: every hug and hand hold, every joke cracked and song sung to cheer one another up. Her mind raced with memories of their road trip around California the summer before with the band, to their friend dates on the pier, to nights in the house or the garage, spending time with her nonna and Alex and Reggie. The nights they’d sleep over at each other’s houses, or the camping trip the guys and her went on at 15, the night she and Luke stayed up and named constellations in the middle of nowhere.

Suddenly, she was filled with an overwhelming sense of idiocy: because she had quite happily mistook her romantic feelings for her best friend as platonic… For years.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Luke muttered, running a worried hand through his hair, trying to read his friend’s expression, to gauge some sort of reaction. “Fuck…” He said under his breath.

“Don’t be sorry…” Y/N responded softly after a moment, and Luke’s eyes met hers. “One of us had to make the first move, right?” She added nervously, wondering for a moment if it had just been a stupid, heat of the moment, action.

“You’re not mad?” He clarified, taking a step closer, and another. Y/N moved towards him too, lifting his hand in hers and interlocking their fingers, admiring the way his hand held hers, the callouses on his fingertips feeling smooth and firm as they brushed over her knuckles.

“Not one bit.” She promised, looking up at him their hands breaking apart, Luke’s hands dropping to her waist, travelling under her shirt to hold her bare skin like they had a mind of their own.

“Good… Because I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” Luke admitted with a shaky breath out. There was a pause, both double checking with the other they were sure of their actions before Luke’s and Y/N’s lips found one another again.

There was an element of it that felt forbidden, the unspoken rules the pair had laid out for their friendship must have had a subsection that clearly stated something like this could not happen, but neither cared. The kiss was hungry, sweet, borderline desperate as they stumbled backwards and Y/N’s back hit one of the support beams for the loft space, rooting them in place as Y/N’s hands moved from his chest to his neck, her fingers finding their way into the back of Luke’s hair. It was still damp to the touch with sweat, his skin smooth and near silky against her fingertips.

All Luke could smell, feel, taste, touch, was Y/N. Her perfume mixed with the smell of her shampoo had short-circuited his brain, her lips on his had him feeling lightheaded, the way her fingers in his hair pulled him closer had him lifting her legs up and holding her up against the beam by her thighs.

“This is so stupid…” Y/N muttered as she pulled away to catch her breath, eyes fluttering open to view Luke, his attention taking focus on the crook of her neck as he pressed a kiss to the soft skin. Her heart was thudding, ringing in her ears louder than anything she had heard Alex play, and as a whimper passed by her lips without permission in response to Luke’s attention, she was sure he could feel the erratic pace against her chest.

“Really fucking stupid…” Luke agreed with a smirk, looking up at her with nearly black eyes, only a thin ring of green around pupil left. “If you want me to stop, tell me now…” He said, his hands moving up the back of her thighs to the hem of the shorts she had decided on that night. “Or now…” He offered, pressing his lips to her collarbone, following them up until his mouth found her sweet spot and earned a moan from the girl in his arms. “Or now?”

“You’re an asshole Luke…” Y/N muttered, taking his face in her hands and pressing her lips to his, shutting him up with a swipe of her tongue that had Luke’s mouth opening and giving in to her lips, her mouth, quite happily.

When Y/N’s hands found the way to the hem of Luke’s shirt, the guitarist walked them over to the sofa bed on the other side of the room, breaking the kiss to make sure he didn’t run into the coffee table. He pulled a face as he dodged the room centre piece, and Y/N burst into a fit of giggles that Luke challenged by dropping her onto the bed.

The action wasn’t the only thing that left Y/N breathless though, biting her lip as Luke pulled off the sleeveless tee Y/N had been tugging on only moments earlier. She had forgotten for a moment that when Luke wasn’t play music, he was working out, and had to take a second to register his toned body that matched his arms.

“Liking what you see, Y/L/N?” Luke grinned as he teased her, and Y/N pursed her lips, glaring him down playfully before deciding to join in on the game.

“You’re not the only one who looks good naked, Patterson.” She countered, and though she wasn’t quite sure she believed the words, she was on a high and wasn’t planning on slowing do whatever had begun. She quickly pulled off her top, throwing the white tee with the band’s name printed across the front to the floor by the bed and holding herself up on her arms as she leaned back a little, a plain white bralette beneath. Luke’s mouth went dry at the sight of her topless, his jeans quickly became tight, and he actually found himself blushing.

“Seems you’re right there…” He breathed out, leaning over her, one hand giving him balance as the other lifted her chin and brought his lips to hers. An open-mouthed kiss, Luke’s tongue was gentle yet demanding, taking control of the kiss as Y/N found herself lying back on the fresh sheets, and Luke found himself on top of her.

She wanted him, and in that moment nothing else seemed to matter. It was like everything else disappeared as her body melted into his: the only sounds she heard were his groans and her whimpers; all she could feel was the cool cotton beneath her and Luke’s rough hand against her flushed face; all she could smell was sweat and his cologne, taste the orange soda that lingered on their lips.

“You’re killing me here, Y/N…” Luke muttered through ragged breath as he pulled away, sitting back on his knees, kneeling. Her thumbs had found themselves running along the waistband on his jeans. “Have… Have you done anything like this before?” He asked.

It was clear exactly where this was headed.

“Not all the way… No.” Y/N said softly, her breathing a step short of hyperventilation, but Luke was very much the same. They both had experience, they had both dated in the past. Hell, Luke and Alex were even a thing for a while.

“Ok, so we’re in the same boat then.” Luke nodded with a gulp, and Y/N raised an eyebrow, moving to mirror his sitting position, inching closer.

“What about the red head? Last summer? Hayley?” Y/N quizzed, and Luke let out a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah… You were going out with that Nathan guy… Might have lied a little bit about what happened with her…” Luke admitted, and Y/N threw her head back laughing. In retrospect, it had made her rather jealous.

“Good to know...” She nodded as she spoke, coming down from the laughter, the pair falling silent for a moment. “You know… We do this, and everything changes.”

“I know…” Luke said softly, sharply intaking as Y/N’s hands came back to his jeans’ waistband.

Her hands made quick work of the belt, Y/N looking up at Luke as she unbuttoned and dragged down the zipper on his jeans, the material sitting slack on his hips. He stood up at the foot of the bed, Y/N not hesitating to push the material down past his knees, the clothing quickly pooling at his feet atop his sneakers.

“Shit, I forgot about shoes.” Luke whispered, trying to slip off his sneakers with his feet, only to stumble back and have Y/N quickly catch him by the waist before he fell over. “Shit! Sorry! Sorry…” He laughed out, managing to get off his shoes and jeans as Y/N quickly got her own mismatched converse off. “I feel like you’re wearing more clothes than me.” Luke said softly, looking her over as he strained against his boxers.

“Maybe you could help change that?” Y/N wasn’t quite sure where the sexual confidence was coming from, but she lay back on the bed, her head landing on the pillows as she looked down the bed at Luke.

“Uh huh… Yep. Definitely.” He nodded, his jaw slack as he got back on the bed, his hands coming to the button of her jean shorts and taking off the denim at record speed, revealing a pair of high cut panties that matched the white bralette covering her chest. “Fuck me…” Luke muttered.

“That’s the plan, handsome.” Y/N grinned back, and Luke took his eyes off her body to look into her eyes, to look at her smile and the way she held herself and how she looked at him the way he always wanted her to look at him.

“This has to be heaven.” He smirked, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her cheek before reaching out to the side table to the couch’s right, opening one of the drawers and lifting out condom from an inconspicuous looking box.

“Not quite, but we’re getting there.” Y/N smiled sweetly, taking a moment to undo her bra and let it fall onto her lap, discarding it and her underwear as Luke rid himself of his boxers and slipped into the condom. “Are you nervous? I’m kinda nervous.” She admitted, and Luke leaned forward to kiss her again, gentle and soft. Whatever anxiety she had vanished as his lips touched hers, and with a nod for Luke to continue, her best friend moved onto the bed, his length lined up with her entrance.

As he pushed past Y/N’s folds, slowly but surely completely filling her, Luke let out a string of groans and curse words, all intertwined. He wasn’t alone in it, Y/N muttering her fair share of choice language as she became accustomed to his size, the slight pinch of pain she felt disappearing and being replaced with pleasure as her inner walls clenched around Luke’s member.

“Jesus…” Luke muttered, his breathing heavy, doing his very best not to ruin the moment by cumming from just the sight of Y/N below him, naked, moaning because of him. “Does that feel alright?” He asked, and Y/N nodded.

“You can move now.” She whispered, bringing his lips to her as Luke pulled out and started a slow and steady pace, filling her with each thrust. Y/N moaned his name into his ear, her hands threading into his hair once more as the pace picked up, only prompting them both to get a little louder.

The benefits of soundproofing the studio.

“Fuck Luke…” Y/N muttered, breathing heavier by the minute, her stomach forming into knots, tight and tighter in her abdomen as Luke’s thrusts became deeper.

The whole thing was slow and sweat: the heat outside only made the garage warmer, Luke’s forehead soon sporting a layer of sweat that had his hair sticking to it. Y/N’s fingers wrapped around and dug into his bicep as he rocked into her, the rolls of their hips synchronising and make for more pleasure shared.

It felt like a dream, for both of them. Luke never thought he would ever have Y/N as more than a friend, regardless of how he felt, never thought the goofiness and over-confident demeanour that had attracted her to him platonically would have ever translated to… This. Y/N had seen the girls and guys Luke dated, and while she wasn’t one to compare herself to others often, she realised she never made a move because she had never been Luke’s type before.

“Y/N…” Luke whispered, his own high fast approaching. He leaned down, pressing his lips to Y/N’s collarbone, nipping at the skin until it bruised, smirking at every moan he managed to elicit in response.

“Shit, Luke… I-” Before she could finish speaking, Y/N threw her head back into the pillows and let out a whimpering moan, her grip on Luke’s bicep tightening as the tension that had built in her stomach finally released in the form of euphoria, waves of pleasure tightening her core and leaving Luke to its whim as he moaned out her name, struggling to hold himself up as he spilled into the condom. They stayed like that for a moment, both breathing heavy and looking into one another’s eyes.

They had just had sex… Both admitted feelings of attraction…

The flash of headlights and the sound of a car rolling up had both of them freezing for a second before Luke quickly pulled out, Y/N scrambling to locate her clothes as Luke tied off the condom and binned it before finding his jeans. He tossed her over her t-shirt while she threw back his underwear, the sound of the boys’ voices quickly approaching the garage.

Y/N glanced down at the state of herself, opting to press a kiss to Luke’s cheek before disappearing into the bathroom to finish getting ready, leaving the guitarist to deal with his band.

“I swear to God, I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Alex said with a sigh as he opened up the garage doors to reveal Luke sat on the bed, fixing his shoes. “Wow…” He muttered, and for a moment Luke thought it was in judgement, that he and Y/N had been made immediately. But Reggie, Bobby and Alex walked into the room and started investigating the new layout, and Luke remembered than not an hour, he had been doing the same thing.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Reggie said with a proud smile, and Luke fixed his shoe on before getting up. “Luke, where’s Y/N?”

“Right here.” Y/N answered, walking out the bathroom with her makeup and hair fixed, and fully dressed. Luke smiled over at her, and she smiled back before turning her attention back to the guys. “What, the club on 6th realise your IDs were fake?” She asked, and Reggie started nodding before Bobby slapped his arm.

“I’ve convinced Alex of the tattoo idea. But we can’t go without the two of you. We’ve got a taxi waiting outside.” Bobby explained, Alex shrugging in defeat.

“I suppose they’d look cool.” He said with a smile.

“Awesome! I’ll meet you in the car, just got to grab my bag… And fake ID.” Y/N said with a smile, Bobby and Reggie running out to the car as she quickly grabbed her stuff. Alex turned to go, stopping at the door and turning to look back at his friends, to look at the messed up bed, noticing the red on Luke’s arm.

“You alright, man?” Luke asked, the guitarist putting a hand on Alex’s shoulder as Y/N glanced over, the blond getting a distinct whiff of a sweet smell from Luke…

Y/N’s perfume.

“Oh my God, you guys slept together.” He muttered, the two freezing.

“Alex…” Luke started: it hadn’t been more than two years since they had dated, and a part of him worried more than one friendship was ending that night because of what he and Y/N had just done.

“You’re crazy to think-” Y/N chipped in, but was cut off by Alex letting out a yell.

“YES!” He shouted, clapping his hands together in excitement. “Finally!!” He grinned, and Luke and Y/N took a joint sigh of relief.

“Wait-” Luke started, but Alex was already gone to share the news with Bobby and Reggie.

“Bobby, you owe Reggie $50.” The pair could hear Alex calling, met by gasps and grumbles from beyond the door. Luke and Y/N laughed as Alex left, but as it died out, they were surrounded by silence.

Neither was sure what to say, neither wanting to stay in the silence.

“Luke-” Y/N said softly, looking up as he walked across the room and pressed his lips to hers. His hands pulled her close by the waist, her hands holding onto his shirt, pulled up to her tiptoes.

“I think we should talk a bit more about what we want to be… We don’t have to do it right away, but I don’t think that this was a mistake… Or stupid.” Luke whispered as he pulled away, Y/N responding by taking one of his hands and interlocking their fingers with a smile.

“I think that sounds like a great idea.” She responded, letting her best friend, her something more, lead her out to the awaiting taxi, to their friends, with a smile on his face and joy in his voice.

Y/N Y/L/N was used to being overlooked by people, but in that moment, under the glare of headlights and with Luke’s hand in hers, with his kiss on her lips and her image in his eyes…

She had never felt more seen.

--

Tags: @reggiesleatherjacket​ @leahstypewriter​ @walkingonshunshine​ @dylanstilinskiposts​ @crybabyddl​ @kaylinfayezink​ @oswin05​ @middaydramatic @freshflowerbasketballgoth @megnmendes​ @lolychu​ @a-whole-a-lot-of-fandoms​ @millenniumx @delicatelukepatterson​ @lovesanimals​ @-episkey-​ @korydickson​ @katemaire07 @theatricalfangirl​ @avs-hart​ @futuremrsb-r-main​ @mjflower​ @siennanoelle01​ @reggieandthereggies​ @kristencoontz​ @independentgirl​ @eries45 @amortiff​ @lilstanxd​ @crappy-unicorn​ @ghostlyb1tch​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @im-a-writer-right​ @caitsymichelle13​ 

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 6 - The First Date [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s a surprise chapter to celebrate TFATWS starting, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: First dates can end in strange ways.

Series Masterlist

Every agent in your division knew the Winter Soldier, the unstoppable assassin, the infamous ghost story, the man who had been fighting for over 80 years. He was a legend, and meeting him was something you were all taught to avoid ever since the espionage world had found out about his existence.

The last time, a whole team of heavily armed soldiers were sent to take him down and he had managed to disarm every single one of them without even needing a weapon. So theoretically if you were to send an agent to meet him, you would probably make sure that agent carried about a thousand weapons and preferably went there in a bulletproof vehicle.

Instead, you were told to wear a cute dress for the first date.

Lovely.

“How come I can’t wear any of my clothes?” you asked, pressing the phone to your ear as you took a look at all the dresses lying on your bed.

“Not that your sniper outfits aren’t hot, but wearing them to your first date with the Winter Soldier might not be the brightest idea.”

You heaved a sigh, “I still can’t believe you changed my whole wardrobe when I was outside, Chloe. What was wrong with my usual clothes?”

“They’re not what your cover would wear.”

“Uh huh.”

“Pick the one with those small flowers on it,” Chloe said, “Mini dress, chiffon. Cream colored.”

You hummed and grabbed the hanger, then held it over your body.

“Are we sure?”

“Trust me. Perfect for the first date.”

“Did mini dresses exist back in his time?” Keith’s voice reached you, making you frown, “Or was he born in those times with those giant dresses?”

“Excuse me, why am I on speaker?” you asked, “Also Keith, what are you doing in the headquarters? I need you and the team ready to interfere anytime.”

“I’m not in the headquarters, I was grabbing coffee and Chloe wanted to come with me. No worries though, we’re around your area.”

“Are you insane?” you snapped, “You brought her to the field?”

“We’re just getting coffee—“

“Chloe, get back to the headquarters,” you insisted, “Now.”

“No! You have a date, Keith gets to relax at this new café, and three of us can barely spend time together nowadays!” Chloe said, “It’s always you guys who have the fun.”

“Honey I’m on a date with the Winter Soldier so that I can gather intel, Keith is going to be at that café because he and the team needs to be nearby in case my cover is blown,” you said patiently, getting into the dress,  “It’s not like we’re hanging out without you.”

“Detail.”

“It’s not just a detail-“

“No I mean the security detail is ready.” Chloe cut you off, “I got my laptop with me, I hacked into the café’s wifi.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “You did what?”

“Yeah I figured I could use a change of scenery and Keith said yes.”

“Keith, I need you to listen to me carefully,” you said, “I’m going to kill you.”

“Y/N!”

“You can’t kill me.”

“Can’t I though?”

“Yeah you have a date, remember?”

You checked your wristwatch and cussed under your breath, rushing to put your shoes on.

“I put a small gadget into your wristwatch,” Chloe said, “I figured he’d recognize the ring if he saw it again. If you press the button there, the team will be called to your location shortly.”

“And if things get exciting, make sure to take the watch off,” Keith let out a laugh, “You don’t want us to interrupt your fun over an accident.”

“It’s just the first date, idiot.”

“Yeah and I’m—I’m sure there’s a rule against killing on the first date.” Chloe said, “Right?”

“Nah I killed a target on the first date before,” you mumbled, “But I wasn’t told to get into a relationship back then so… It’ll be different this time.”

“Try not to give the guy whiplash though, will you?” Keith said and you frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“It means dating etiquette changed since 1940s.”

“Oh don’t worry, I got that covered,” you said but your head shot up when you heard the doorbell ring. “I have to go.”

“Okay, but—“

“No time Keith,” you murmured, walking to the door. Your heart was pacing against your chest for some reason as if it was a real first date, and you swung the door open to reveal Bucky waiting for you at your doorstep. He put his hands into his leather jacket, taking in your appearance.

“You know what to do if you get in trouble.” Keith said and you hung up quickly to push your phone into your purse, smiling wide at Bucky.

“Hi!” you said, “Shall we?”

                                                         ***

Now to think of it,  the last time you had been on a date without carrying any weapons had to be ten years ago if not more. But you had clear orders for this one, your superiors were convinced that carrying any kind of gun or a dagger would alert him, even if you thought it was invisible to outsider eye.

After all, he was an assassin and looking for weapons on a person from miles away was second nature for assassins.

You would know.

“So you moved here a month ago and you just know one place?” he asked as you waited for the barista to prepare your coffee, “A coffee shop? That’s it?”

“I know a milkshake shop too.”

He tilted his head, “You mean where you work?”

“That still counts,” you defended yourself “But if you insist, I might let you show me around next time.”

“Please do,” he said, “Just a heads up though, there’s a huge possibility that most of the places I know has been closed down years ago.”

“Oh that’s okay,” you told him as the barista put your coffees in front of you. “We can explore the new sights together then.”

A smile graced his lips while he led you to the table furthest from the window facing the door and you had to suppress your grin.

You weren’t the only one who was scanning the cafe for possible emergency exits and safest spots after all. Sitting by the window was a civilian mistake because in case of a shooting, you’d be in the clear sight for the shooter.

You had a feeling not many people considered that possibility on a first date.

“That sounds good,” he pulled your chair for you and you paused only for a moment before taking your seat.

Right. Born in a different era.

He took off his leather jacket and your gaze wandered off to his vibranium arm before snapping back to his eyes. He was watching you with his brows slightly raised, as if waiting to see your reaction.

“Sorry!” You said quickly, “I’m sorry, I just…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Bucky—“

“Really,” he assured you, “Don’t worry.”

You took a deep breath, pushing your behind your ear.

“So, it’s good to meet in a place that looks like it belongs to 21st century isn’t it?”

He hissed in a breath, a mischievous light glimmering in his blue eyes “Do you want me to be honest?”

“Brutally honest.”

“I would be lying if I said I don’t miss the uniform.”

Your jaw dropped before a smile spread over your lips, “Look at that,” you said, “Told you you weren’t rusty.”

He chuckled, “I’d hope not.”

“And hey, if you miss how it was back then, some things aren’t that different than 40s,” you said, cradling the warm cup in your hands. He tilted his head.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Like what?”

“You know, I’m glad you asked because I actually did research in case it came up.”

He lowered his cup, “You did what?”

“Um… do you promise not to be intimidated if I am brutally honest?”

He leaned in, eyes locked to yours, “Cross my heart.”

“I did research,” you nodded, making him let out a small laugh. “No wait, listen— I just… I didn’t google you or stalk you over Instagram so I had to prepare myself in a different way.”

“I know some of those words,” he pointed out and you took a deep breath.

“It means I didn’t look you up.” you said, “When I was sixteen, I promised myself I wouldn’t look anyone up before the first date but that rule doesn’t extend to doing general research.”

“You didn’t look me up?” he asked and you shook your head.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I like getting to know people on my own,” you said, “I’m not really interested in people’s pasts, does that make sense?”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Maybe not,” you admitted, “But I’ll do it anyway. Trusting people is kind of my thing, past or not. I’d rather be mistaken than prejudiced.”

A silence fell upon him as if he was astounded and you rested your chin on your fist, keeping your eyes on him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said after a beat, “Nothing at all.”

“So—anyways, some things aren’t that different,” you said, leaning back, “Some details, that is. People still— we still go to movie theatres, that was a big thing back then too right?”

“Oh absolutely,” he said, “For first dates too.”

“We still wear hats sometimes,” you counted with your fingers, “Some people still prefer to call their partners daddy—in a different context, don’t google that— and we still have jello.”

“I heard about that,” he mused, a playful smile on his lips, “The jello, that is.”  

You grinned, scrunching up your nose.

“So yeah. There’s your crash course.”

“I appreciate it,” he said with a chuckle, “And hey, if it makes you feel any better I didn’t google you either.”

“Because you don’t know how?”

“Because I don’t know how,” he admitted, “I should probably start making a list, I keep asking Sam about some pretty common information.”

“Really?”

“Yeah I mean—for example, I don’t know if it’s still acceptable to bring a gal-a girl,” he corrected himself and cleared his throat, “Flowers for the first date.”

“You were going to bring me flowers?”

“Yeah! Yeah . I was going to actually, then Sam said it was old fashioned. Sharon said it was a good idea, but…”

You furrowed your brows, “Okay let me get this straight, you listened to your friend who’s a guy and not your other friend who’s a girl. About what girls like on the first date.”

A look of realization dawned on his face, “That might not have been the brightest idea now that you mentioned it.”

“No disrespect to Captain America but he might need to work on his romance skills,” you pointed out and took a sip of your coffee.

“How about you?” he asked, “What’s your story?”

I was recruited at the age of 16, just last year I took down a whole team of bad guys all by myself, I could probably kill someone in 5 different ways using this coffee cup and spoon alone.

Or not.

You had been over this. You had a full file back at home filled with details of your new identity, designed to look unsuspicious.

“There’s not much to tell I’m afraid,” you muttered, “I grew up in a small town. Everyone knew each other, and I thought it was nice, until my grandmother passed away. Then there were way too many people asking me if I was okay. In the grocery store, on my way to work… I just wanted to get away.”

“I know the feeling,” he said softly and you nodded.

Of course he did. This whole identity was fabricated for him after all.

“So I figured I could move away,” you said, “There was nothing to keep me there after all. I lost my parents when I was little, that was the reason why my grandmother took me in.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh don’t be,” you said quickly, “Really. They just….”

My mom died in a car crash when I was 5, and one day I came home from school and my father was nowhere to be found.

Neither was his suitcase.

You had to give it to him, he had bothered to write you a note. If you could call that a note.

The infamous genius scientist had nothing to say other than he was sorry. You had burned that note that night, along with every picture in the family album.

“There was a car accident,” you tried to smile, ignoring the bitter taste at the back of your throat, “Drunk driver, came out of nowhere. They both died on impact, that’s what everyone says. I don’t remember them much.”

A silence fell upon you for a moment and you took a deep breath.

“Anyways,” you managed to say, “Enough about me. What about you?”

He paused before turning the cup between his hands, “That’s kind of a long story,” he said, making you arch a brow to shoot him a look.

“Well as it happens, my milkshake making schedule just cleared out.” you stated, making him smile, “We have unlimited coffee and time. Bring it on.”

                                               ***

Well, you didn’t know what you had expected but it wasn’t this. Considering he was under the impression that you were a civilian, of course he didn’t tell you any gory or top secret details but he didn’t try to make himself look innocent either, or any different than he was.

He was as sincere as an ex-assassin could be.

Cover or not, this was probably the best date you had ever been. In fact, after the first half an hour you almost forgot that it was fake, that you were supposed to dig for information instead of enjoying yourself.

You were still playing your part but it didn’t exactly feel like work.

“So no to motorcycles?” Bucky asked as you turned around to look at him better while you walked backwards.

“No to motorcycles!” you exclaimed, “Those things are deathtraps.”

“So when you said you couldn’t get on it because of your dress….”

“It wasn’t a complete lie,” you motioned at your dress, “Half because of the dress, half because I don’t want to die.”

“Do you seriously believe I’d let that happen?”

“Maybe.”

“Mmm and what was it you said earlier?” he taunted you, “About trusting people?”

“I trust people,” you insisted, “I don’t trust death machines, there’s a difference.”

Well, he didn’t need to know you had a motorcycle in Chloe’s garage.

“Here we are,” you pointed at the building standing a couple of feet away from you, “My apartment. See, I told you it was close. No reason for putting our lives in danger when we can just walk.”

“Does that mean I can’t show you around the city the next time?”

“On a motorcycle?”

“Mm hm.”

“I don’t—that’s a terrible….” You heaved a dramatic sigh, “Hypothetically speaking, what would I get in return?”

His smile was calm, almost amused, “What do you want to get in return?”

You crossed your arms, looking up at the sky as if you were deep in thought, completely aware of his gaze on you.

“Flowers,” you said after a beat, “I didn’t even know they were an option but now that I know, I want flowers.”

“Is that it?” he asked, “It’s ‘a death machine’, but flowers are enough to convince you?”

“Depends,” you mused silkily, a complete opposite of the wide-eyed look in your eyes as you batted your lashes, “What else do you want me to want?”

A shadow moved behind his gaze only for a moment before it disappeared again but it was more than enough time for you to see it, and that was when you realized that there was a reason why Chloe had sent you that file.

Bucky Barnes wasn’t completely a stammering love-struck puppy when it came to flirting. While it was true that he could be a little rusty –you didn’t know how he was back in the 40s-, he also knew when to stop talking to see how far you would go in this game.

He was letting you play and think you were in control before making his move.

Patience of a sniper.

“Um- thank- thank you for tonight,” you said, averting your glances as if you were embarrassed under his gaze, playing it coy, “I had so much fun.”

“Me too,” he said, “The next one will include flowers, I promise.”

You let out a nervous giggle and stepped closer to him before you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss on his cheek. He inhaled your scent deeply, probably not even aware of what he was doing but you tried to hide your smile.

It was on the file Chloe had prepared about him. Bucky Barnes liked the scent of vanilla.

“Be careful riding that death machine,” you told him, biting on your lip before you made your way to the building. You hopped on the stairs to push the exterior door to get into the building, and pressed a hand on your chest, closing your eyes.

Why were you so giddy all of a sudden?

You threw your shoulders back and got into the elevator to press on the button to your floor. As soon as the elevator started to move, your reflection in the mirror caught your attention and you tilted your head.

Chloe had a point, it was a nice dress.

The elevator made a small noise and the doors slid open for you to pass, but when you entered the hall you stopped dead on your tracks. There were four agents waiting on your doorstep and before you could question what was happening, one of the doors in the hallways opened and Keith stepped out.

“Be careful riding that death machine?” he asked, “I could tell you the same thing but you didn’t invite him up here.”

“I wasn’t wearing a wire, how did you-?”

“We had a car around the corner just in case,” he said “You’d be surprised how far we can hear with these new gadgets.”

“I told everyone we can’t—“ you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath. “What are you doing here and why are there agents at my doorstep?”

He grinned at you, “How do you feel about being neighbors?”

“I feel fuck no about it, and why are there agents—“

“General is waiting for you in your apartment.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, “What?” you asked as you walked past him and opened the door to your apartment, then stepped in.

“General?” you rasped out as you walked into the living room to find him there, sitting by himself.

“Shrike,” he greeted you, “Good evening.”

You tried to smile, “Good evening sir.”

“I wanted to see how the mission was going,” he said, “Your team says it’s been very successful so far.”

“It’s going according to plan sir, yes.”

“This was what, your first date?”

You licked your dry lips, commanding yourself to be calm. “Yes.”

He hummed and stood up, running a hand over his gray beard, his eyes darting around the room.

“Y/N,” he murmured, making your head shot up at hearing your name instead of your alias. “It’s possible that the last time we talked face to face about your mission, I came across a little…uncaring. I want you to know that it’s not easy for me either.”

You stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

“You’re like a daughter to me,” he said, “For me, putting you on this mission was no different than sending Chloe into Barnes’s bed. Granted you have an edge and proper training for field missions like these unlike her, but…”

Right. Manipulation of Enemy.

A.k.a the seduction class.

Your superior had almost failed you in that class.

“But all your superiors in the division is aware of your success so far,” he said, “There has been no hiccups, nothing to alert him which is a surprise. You’re playing your role well, and we will keep that in mind after this mission is over. You’re at the top of our list for possible handlers.”

For the first time in your life, that didn’t make you fill with excitement for some reason. You frowned at yourself and plastered a smile on your face.

“Thank you sir.”

“Anything you would like to report so far?”

“I’m going slowly in order to make sure I gain his trust,” you said, “But sir, there’s a reason why I didn’t even wear my earpiece tonight. Barnes is a pro, anything could make him suspicious and putting agents in cars to listen to us… That could go wrong.”

“You want to be completely alone on this mission?”

“I still want to have my team, but I want them to be completely invisible. I already have a tracker and an emergency signal on my wristwatch, but unless I specifically call for them, they need to be away. I can’t risk anyone compromising my cover, even if it’s unintentional by my team.”

He thought for a moment, “I see,” he said, “You make a good point. I’ll make the necessary adjustments.”

“Thank you General.”

He squeezed your upper arm as if trying to assure you and walked to the door, then turned around.

“Shrike?”

“Yes sir?”

“You’ve heard what happened to Marco, right?” he asked, “He was one of our best agents but got too involved in his seduction mission.”

You swallowed thickly, “I heard he’s missing.”

A small smile pulled at his lips, “That’s right. He was removed from his mission, then went missing.”

Killed.

He was killed by the agency when he fell for his target and both of you knew that.

“That’s unfortunate,” you managed to say and he nodded.

“It is,” he said, “Don’t make the same mistake. Actions have consequences.”

With that, he left your apartment and you let out a breath as you fell back to sit on the couch, your hands shaking.

“Yeah,” you muttered to yourself, “Yeah they do.”

Chapter 7 

[forestwater87]

Okay, for all of you who don't feel like watching Miles RP as David

Here are some of my favorite quotes. Context may be added if I feel like it. Reactions are my goblin brain screaming. All of these came from a discord so if they don't make sense . . . see goblin brain comment.

(That link should start directly at the point where he becomes David; if it doesn't, skip to 1:40:33)

In roughly chronological order:

David: "Teachers are sort of like camp counselors during the rest of the year."

The thing is David is absolutely up his own ass enough to think this.

David: "Trail mix is expensive!"

^ said to show he understands why not everyone can donate to the charity for teachers. Very adorable, am crying.

David's "ooooh" seeing one dude was extremely non-heterosexual. Fucking bicon. Him losing his mind that one of the arenas is called "Survey camp"

David: "A person's hitting me -- I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry this is just pretend!"

This is just canonically how David plays video games. Either this or he's unwilling to commit violence at all, but I'll defer to Miles.

David: "That's very goat of you!"

Spencer: "Is David popular amongst his campers?"

David: "I like to think so! There's only 3 staff members, so I'm definitely in everyone's top 3."

"That also means you're in the bottom 3."

David: "Well, I choose not to think of it that way."

(I have to keep adding reacts so you can tell when one quote ends and another begins. Judge not lest ye be judged)

I think the other person in the stream is named Spencer. Friend of Miles. I know literally nothing else about him and am not even confident on those facts.

Every time he says something so non-David in his David voice I die: "I have a lot of grenades!"

David: "Oh my goodness, would you look at this beautiful scenery! Can we hike that mountain?"

This is so goddamn cute. I am dying. Miles looked at his fans and said "they will eat tonight" and I am so relieved.

David: "Not to be a couple of Greedy Garys, but I say we get this [care package] and then I'll drop another one!"

The fact that Miles is grinning like a lunatic the entire time is very good. (Also if this is formatted badly then I'm sorry but not all that sorry. I'm doing my best and David would be proud of me.)

David: "Didja getim? Didja getim? didja getim? How 'bout now?"

Spencer: "I didn't get 'em."

David: "Well, you tried your best and that's all that matters."

He calls healing "a little health kiss." I'm not sure why but it's very important to me.

David: [while jumping to murder someone] "Hi! Scuse me!"

(i just need something to separate the quotes okay)

David: "Well you know what gang, we did our best. You don't always win the 3-legged race. You did a wonderful job!"

Then there's a bit where they talk about Spencer's time at summer camp:

David: "ooooh hand-holding's pretty serious!"

David is too pure.

David: [dreamily] "Did you fall in love, Spencer? A summer love?" [puts hands up to his face]

Then there's the fact that David/Miles gets to pick where they play each round, and he keeps insisting on going to the one called "Survey Camp" every single time because it has the word "camp" in it.

David: "Now, I don't like to disagree, but . . . I was thinking we could go . . . to Survey Camp!"

Spencer reminds him that technically since David's the one with the power to choose, his opinion is the only one that matters:

David: "Everyone's opinion matters. And my opinion is we're going to camp."

David just steamrolling over Spencer's interests is very good. There are these little selfish nuggets sprinkled in among the wholesomeness that really capture the full David experience.

David: "Well, he's climbing up . . . he's coming my direction . . . oh, he looks scary . . ."

Spencer: "Is he coming towards me?"

David: "Oooh, I don't know. I'm dead!"

The positivity is relentless. I think Miles said on twitter afterwards that this whole thing was exhausting and I can see why. Being David is no picnic . . .

David: "I have a question: do we have to shoot each other in this game?"

And then a few seconds later:

David: "I'm just wondering if maybe there's a way we can, you know, help others. Talk through our issues."

And a few seconds after that:

David: "I was asking if they wanted to be friends in the game!"

I believe that moved killed him, too. Precious.

Also we're interrupting the real Miles!David content to share something my friend suggested to me while I was watching this and giving her quotes; she said that maybe David just calls everything camp to make life more fun, and then sent me this imaginary exchange that actually killed me all the way to death:

David: Gwen Santos would you go to marriage camp with me

Gwen: I'm going to have to change this story when I tell everyone

It made me laugh quite a bit.

Anyway, back to the video!

Spencer: "How do you sign up for [Camp Campbell]?"

David: "Well, um, you can fax, uh, an application to CameronCCampbell@hotmail.realwebsite.noreallyrealwebsite.com. And . . . you can know that myself and Gwen and Quartermaster and sometimes Mr. Campbell will do our best to make sure they get what they need! Which more than anything is love and support. And friendship."

Spencer: "How many dollars does this camp cost?"

David: "You know . . . it is, um . . ."

And then the conversation switches subjects and David breathes a sigh of relief.

Very shortly after this he changed his character from a woman (she was wearing a yellow shirt, which he liked because the campers wear yellow shirts) to "a Forward Scout with a positive attitude!"

"I like his style."

Spencer: "Does everybody abuse David verbally?"

David: "You know, sometimes people have harsh words. Mostly Max, and Neil, and Gwen, and Quartermaster, and Nurf."

Spencer: "Did you just list almost everyone?"

David: "Mmm . . . I'd say maybe a third."

Poor David. Somebody please protect him.

Spencer: "Yeah, I think people abuse David. I get that vibe. Or at least, I feel it in my heart. Like I wanna put ants in your bunk or something."

David: "Well, I think that says more about maybe some of the hurt you're carrying with you. And sometimes when people don't know how to process that, they act out. Do you want some trail mix?"

David just said his favorite part of trail mix is the raisins which is so cute. "They have a little bit of salt on them, which isn't typical for a raisin."

And he keeps telling chatters to watch their language.

David: "Who is my favorite camper? Aww, you know I couldn't pick a favorite! . . . But I know who has the most potential, even if he doesn't want to admit it."

I KNEW IT!!!!!

I've been saying for years that David doesn't have a favorite and gravitates towards the ones he thinks need him the most AND I FINALLY GOT ONE RIGHT!

David: "Well you know, Gwen swears and that's okay."

shipping intensifies

David: [gasp] "The moss is growing on the north side of the rock!"

Every time he nerds out about weird shit in the game I gain 3 seconds to my life.

Spencer: "Did you get teabagged?"

David: "What's that?"

Spencer: "It's where somebody places their most intimate bits on you for . . . friendship."

David: [softly] "Oh, I don't know about that."

Also David confirms that the whole show has been a single summer, so please see the "vindication" gif above.

David: "I know a lot of fun camp songs."

Spencer: "Sing 3."

David: [starts singing] "Bum-bum-bumblebee, bumblebee tuna, I love bumblebee, bumblebee tuna . . ."

Spencer: "Okay, please stop. I immediately regret this decision."

David: "Max said the same thing! One of my campers. And, uh, and my co-counselor, Gwen."

He's literally made of sunshine. I would die for this fictional man.

Spencer: "Are people at camp against their will? I feel like they are."

David: "No! . . . They don't always like it immediately, but it grows on them."

Spencer: "It sounds like they're there against their will."

David: "Well I just think that's a negative way of looking at it."

FWIW Spencer makes an excellent foil to David. Not as aggressive as Max or as dour as Gwen, but he brings a very . . . like, straight-man energy to the conversation. Like how a normal person would react to David IRL. I'd enjoy seeing these two interact more.

Spencer: "It's like your overpositivity is wanting me to balance it out with negativity."

David: "You know, I feel like that dynamic's pretty popular with me."

eeeeeeee <3

And the last one that I personally found noteworthy:

David: "One day we'll be able to afford safety equipment. Until then, we'll just have to deal with Quartermaster's Ropes Course. And a lot of pillows."

There's point near the last 20 minutes where either it got kinda boring or I just got too tired to keep track. But if there are any quotes you think I missed, please share them! This was a really lovely bit of content to feed our starving maw, and I appreciate Miles very very very much for taking one for the team.

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XXV

Part I - - - - - - - - - - Part XXII - - - - Part XXIII - - - - Part XXIV

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

The nature of the Jedi Temple was such that years could pass unnoticed within the ethereal, eternal walls—and then a number of factors would converge simultaneously, and wreck all that.

In this case, dawn, rumors, and Quinlan Vos were all meeting in an abrupt and tremulous clash. 

Rumors and daylight, of course, were well known for their power to occupy multiple spaces at the same time. Quinlan Vos’s apparent ability to do so (for nothing else could explain his gentle but thorough interrogation of padawans in the sallies, his generous provisions of drinks for over-wrought nocturnal jedi, and his unauthorized access to closed off personal quarters, all in an impossibly short period time) was far more inexplicable, and therefore technically admirable.

Master Gallia did not feel admiring at the moment. She felt tired.

“Where. Is. Obi-Wan?” Quinlan repeated.

Adi Gallia danced around him, continuing on her stroll of the temple grounds. She released a flash of irritation into the force—of course Masters Koon, Windu, and Yoda all were shipped off for their own (admittedly grim) assignments, leaving her responsible for ‘local’ issues. She had accepted the possibility of intense political fallout, of course. She was prepared to soothe the worries of those still in-temple, who were just starting to pick-up on the certainly-not-an-evacuation. She had been less ready to deal with an incensed psychometric interfering in matters beyond his understanding.

“Classified,” she repeated, as neutrally as ever.

“Do you really want to have the rest of this conversation in front of the whole Order?” he hissed. “I went to his quarters, I felt—” Vos shuddered.

Gallia sighed, tension headache growing. “Come with me.”

She glided serenely to her personal office space, Vos trailing her like the irritable shadow he was.

The door clicked.

“I know he tried to kill himself,” he said bluntly. The Councillor winced slightly; even knowing the context didn’t change the very real and tragic brush with death. “I saw Skywalker see it.” 

Master Gallia didn’t reply—there was no point in denying, and every point in gaining information. 

“Do you know what Obi-Wan felt?” he asked manically.

The Tholothian Master took an involuntary step back. Part of her thought it would be more expedient to simply bring the man into the fold, but another part hesitated at trusting the already thinly stretched secret to a man who was, by Master Kenobi’s own admittance, far closer to falling than anyone realized. It was scarcely his fault—shadow work was dangerous, even when the galaxy wasn’t in the grips of a Sith-engineered galactic war, but still—

“Nothing!” he cried, slaming his palms on her desk in an alarming loss of control. “A brief feeling of panic when his hand was on the vibroblade and then fucking serenity as he tried to stab himself in the heart!”

“Master Vos—” she tried to say placatingly, but he was having none of it.

“Please,” he begged. “I know I can get through to him, just tell me where he is.”

“Quinlan Vos—you’re just going to have to trust the High Council to have Master Kenobi’s best interests in mind.”

He stared at her for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. “You lost him, didn’t you?”

“Quinlan—”

The Kiffar barked out a laugh, pointing a finger in outraged accusation. “He woke up, half the galaxy felt that—and then he ran off, and now he’s somewhere, hurt, and the Council can’t spare the resources or the pride to help him!”

She hesitated—that was the cover story, one that would conceivably spread; but it felt deeply cruel to leave the Kiffar floundering in it. If only he was slightly less angry...

Vos took a deep breath. “Fine,” he said shortly. “The Council wants to keep his status under wraps—that’s fine; he wouldn’t want everyone knowing he’s vulnerable, anyway. Just give me what you have, and I’ll track him.”

Adi Gallia drummed her fingers on her rattled desk for a moment, before letting go of a half-truth. “We suspect he’s going after Count Dooku,” she said finally, suppressing any guilt she felt for the half-lie, or for causing Quinlan’s expression to twist tighter, when she could so easily relieve him of his burden.

“And?” he pressed.

Adi looked away. “Knight Skywalker’s with him, in some capacity,” she grit out.

Quinlan snorted. “Obviously.” Gallia’s lips tightened. 

“Is that it?” he asked exasperated. “You’re not going to even give me his file?”

“You don’t have it already?” she asked drly.

“I’ve got the bathashit official one you gave to the Chancellor,” he admitted, immediately and unrepentantly. “Where you all but threw him under a moving speeder,” he added hostily. 

Master Gallia winced. “Master Vos,” she tried again. “The Council has a plan. I regret that I cannot tell you it, but I beg of you—have faith in us for a little longer—don’t go after him.”

Quinlan’s expression tightened. “Is the plan for the good of Obi-Wan, or the good of the Council? Because sure, I know which Obi-Wan would prefer, and so do you—and I. Don’t. Agree.”

Gallia rubbed her temples, skull throbbing with tension. “And that’s why I can’t trust you with anything else,” she admitted, completely honest.

Quinlan nodded sharply. “May the force be with you, Master Gallia.” 

“And with you, Quinlan Vos,” she replied sadly. 

Quinlan stalked out, and Gallia took a brief moment to pity the both of them before returning to work.

- - -

Ventress skulked in the corner of a dingy bar, cursing Kenobi once again. A few hours on this miserable planet and all she had were rumors to go on. Obviously something had happened to the golden boy, but the underworld seemed even more puzzled than the kriffing Jedi. It was only a matter of time before the public caught wind, and then the gossip would become hopelessly entangled with the actually important whispers.

Sneaking into the Temple itself would be a worthy test of her skills—but if she was captured...well needless to say there would be no aid from Dooku. Had she not felt the Negotiator’s presence during the flight she might have believed this were some irritating test of her Master’s but this...

The Dathomori grimaced into her drink. If nothing else, Kenobi was a fearsome adversary—anything that could have riled him—possibly defeated him once in for all...Ventress hated to admit but she might be out of her depth.

“Is this seat taken?”

She looked up in irritation at a human male with a cocky grin, a gold face tattoo, and skin as dark as hers was pale. The idiot was already pulling out the seat, apparently utterly oblivious of her open contempt— not to mention the chill of the dark side she was deliberately projecting around her. 

“Yes,” she snapped. “Now leave, before I remove you. Violently.”

He grinned wider, leaning in. “Oh don’t be like that. Now, what’s a beautiful woman like yourself doing in a place like this?”

The fool then had the audacity to reach over, lightly brushing her hand. She grabbed the wrist, pinning it to the table. “Do. Not. Touch Me. You vile worm.”

“Aah! Okay, okay!” he babbled in panic. “Sorry, my mistake, thought you seemed hot and a little lonely, that’s all, miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take, you know? Wasn’t trying to cop a feel or anything I swear! I’ll go now, promise.”

She felt an odd tingling sensation run through her, starting at the single point of contact between them. She frowned, unable to classify it. He smiled charmingly. and she released him as if burnt. 

“You’re a Jedi,” she hissed, hand dropping to the sabers beneath the table. The tingling sensation faded. “What was that?”

The open panic disappeared, wholly replaced by the earlier smirk. “And you’re a Sith.” He flexed his hand before tucking it into a pocket. “Nothing to worry about. Just needed your help with an investigation.” He stood, bowing mockingly. “Thank you for your time.” And then he was gone, fading into the shadows. 

She leapt to her feet, running outside and snagging him from his hiding spot behind a crate. 

“What sort of Jedi shadow walks?” she asked, pressing him to the wall at bladepoint, careful not to allow any other point of contact between them. He looked at her as though she were an idiot, and her cheeks heated slightly. 

“You do realize I have to kill you now, right?” she snarled. “Can’t exactly have a Jedi Shadow telling people where I am” 

“You’re not my mission, darling,” he replied, flashing teeth. “Far as I’m concerned, this never happened.”

She narrowed her eyes, digging the tip of her knife into his throat. The Shadow looked deeply unconcerned. “But you thought I might be?” she questioned slyly.

He shrugged. “Sith Apprentice, half a galaxy away from the front off the war? Figured you might be up to trouble, yeah. Fortunately for both of us—as I’m sure an actual fight would be a massive and mutual inconvenience—whatever trouble you’re here for has nothing to do with me. I’ve got bigger fish to fry, you’ve got bigger fish to fry. I’d offer to buy you a drink but I’m fairly certain you’d throw it in my face so...”

He delicately pressed a finger to the knife at his edge. Bemused, she allowed him to push it away.

“And you got all that from touching my hand,” she asked incredulously, curious of his power despite herself.

He waggled his digits playfully. “Magic fingers.”

She scoffed. “Even if you were a psychometric—” She cut herself off, eyes flickering to the face tattoo. 

“Kiffar,” she breathed. “Of course. My gloves—but it was just a moment, what—ah.” She smirked. “Kenobi. You just wanted to know if I had been around him.”

“And now I know you haven’t.” He shrugged. “Anyway, have fun on Coruscant; good luck not getting arrested.” 

He started to amble away at a deceptively casual stroll. She fell into lock step.

“You’ve lost him,” she accused.

He shrugged. “Sure, why not,” he agreed mildly. She narrowed her eyes. 

“Some of the Jedi fear their golden boy might have fallen,” she guessed with absolute confidence, but neither his face nor his force presence gave anything away—and she was following him to a secondary location like a fool. 

Ventress lunged but the Jedi was dancing backwards, slipping into a nearby shadow. He fell into it sideways—completely, but crudely. She wheeled around, scanning the perpetually dim alleyway. One shadow grew darker—she threw a dagger and a patch of dark detached, hissing and bleeding a satisfying scarlet.

“Is there a point to attacking me,” he asked impatiently, saber finally appearing in his hand, though it stayed unlit. “I already told you that I don’t care what you’re doing here. What possible advantage could you gain in picking a fight with me? Even if you win, don’t you think the Jedi would notice if a shadow went missing on Coruscant?” 

“You really have no problem letting a Sith run around your precious Core world?” she asked skeptically, throwing another dagger. He dodged it, and it lodged itself in the brickwork. A random passerby immediately stole it—kriff she hated this world— but Asajj couldn’t chace after the parasite now, because the Jedi was throwing a—rock?

The window behind her shattered as she dodged the wild shot, and an incoherent roar spilled out, along with foul smelling water, and eye stalk, and the first few of what looked many tentacles.

“Oh you play dirty,” she breathed, reluctantly impressed. He hit her with a two fingered salute, disappearing again, this time by swaggering slowly around a corner. And then she had to focus on fighting a pissed off Dianoga whose tankhome had just been vandalized.

By the time she mortally wounded the garbage squid, the trail for her first and best lead on Kenobi had nearly gone cold. 

Nearly.

Part XXVI

[teebarnes]

✨ | A Bad Day

Click [100 Followers Fic] for the rest of the 100 follower fics :)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

Summary: You had a bad day at work and Bucky knows that, so takes this chance to brighten your bad day.

Word Count: 2k

Warning(s): Fluff, crying... I think that's about it.

A/N: Thank you for 100 followers! Plus, I mean, who wouldn't want Bucky to comfort them after a bad day? (GIF isn't mine)

⤑ Click here for my taglist to be notified when I post my future fics.

Any Likes, Comments & Reblogs are super duper appreciated :))

Locking the door behind you, you lean yourself against your door, sliding to the floor. Tears flowing down your face, you pike your knees up you to the chest, wrapping your arms around them. It was another one of those awful days at work, your face hidden in the nook you made. You slowly sobbed to yourself, trying to express the bad day you had quietly into your house as if it could listen.

The quietness of your rural home thickened the sound of your tears; you sigh deeply into your knees, attempting to catch the breath you longed for. Then, calming yourself, you wipe the tears with the end of your jumper before hearing your phone ring. A few sniffs holding the fact you were crying, you check your phone to see it was your best friend calling.

"Yellop", you softly chime to your best friend on the end of the other line. You can hear an audible laugh. "Yellop doll, how was your day?" The voice you always long to hear at the end of your days. "U-usual", you softly chocked out before continuing ", how about you, old man? How was your day?" You giggle slightly at your remark.

A long pause extended your conversation with him before he broke the silence with a soft laugh through his nose, "usual, same since we last spoke", you smile, getting up, taking the conversation to your couch. Hearing his voice had taken away any sadness you had before you even picked up the phone. "Hey, I'm coming over. I need your help," he says, which piques your interest.

"What does a 107-year-old man need my help for? I'm sure you have all the life experience you need," you joked; Bucky gasps ", ouch, my feelings… they're hurting because of you", he laughs, causing the two of you to roll your eyes at each end of the line. "May I ask what you need help with?" You sat up from the couch, eagerly waiting for his reply.

A steady silence homed their conversation for a few seconds "a date y/n… there is this beautiful woman I want to ask on a date." He sighs.

Your face drops slightly, tears rushing down your face again like the ones before. Quickly wiping the tears, you answer, so Bucky doesn't worry "a date, huh? Since when do you socialise" you half-laughed to yourself sadly. "well… doll. You see, I don't if I'm honest," you both laugh, waiting for him to continue. "But… she is amazing, beautiful, the most incredible person I've met", he boasts to you over the phone.

You couldn't help but wallow in your thoughts for a bit, wishing that it were you he was talking about. But you knew that you two were just made to be the best of friends; despite how you felt towards him, you knew he could never feel the same. It took you a while to collect yourself when Bucky spoke again, breaking your train of thought. "Doll?" Your eyes focus again on your surroundings, coming back to the reality that you wanted to run away from right then and there. "Doll, are you there?" He asks again; you clear your throat "yes! yes… sorry, yes I am." You coughed.

"I am happy for you, Buck! She will be so lucky to have you." You stand up from the couch walking into your kitchen. "I am the lucky one, actually…" he replies softly. You smile at his reply only to realise the context of the conversation before answering back to him, "Well… are you sure you need my help? I feel you have all of that covered. I don't think I could be of much help to you, Buck." You held the phone between your shoulder and your ear as you opened the fridge up to check what was for dinner tonight. "I most certainly do doll. You are a vital part to getting this right," he excitedly says; you could never turn him down.

Even after being his friend for over ten years, you still couldn't say no to him. "Geez, Bucky, you really are serious… I'll have you know, though. I haven't had a boyfriend since I met you, so I'll only be able to give you basic pointers," you laugh to yourself. "Doll, don't worry about it… as long as you're there, that's all I need." He swoons. You couldn't help but laugh, "see, buck, with that attitude, I think she will say yes." You lightly say, "plus, have you asked Steve? I'm sure he has better advice to give," you question. "Yeah, I did… no help there", he laughs.

"Okey dokes, well I'm going to take my shower n stuff… you've got a key so you can let yourself in, alright?" You say, continuing to push through the built-up tears and emotions that halted at your throat. "Okay, doll! See you shortly," he says "see ya, Buck" you smile, hanging up.

Not knowing it, but your world fell before you; you didn't want to lose Bucky to a woman he hasn't even told you about. Then again, you cared for his happiness, that is what he needed after all the trauma he had been put through. You shook off the tears sucking up the pain into your stomach, heading to take a shower.

~

Bucky’s POV

"How do I tell her, Steve?" Bucky groans, pacing around the living room, "I love her so goddam much, but I am afraid to lose her. What if she doesn't like me and only sees me as a friend-"Bucky is cut off by Nat, who is sitting on the other side of the couch reading a book. "Bucky, I am going to slap some sense into you soon. She is head over heels for you." She sighs, getting up to leave the room. Bucky continues to pace again, with Steve closely watching.

"Ask her on a date Buck. Go from there," Steve lightly says, leaning back into his seat. "Hey doll, I know we've been best friends for ten years now, but I just wanted to let you know that I've fallen in love with you since the day we met", he frustrates into the palm of his hands. Steve chuckles a bit, "sounds about right", he snorts. Bucky wide-eyed to his oldest friend. "Ahaha, so funn-" he is cut off with a buzzing in his left pocket.

Reaching in, he picks it up "oh, it's just Sam" he rolls his eyes, answering, "what's up, Sam?" Sam sighs "have you talked to y/n recently?" He asks, which immediately makes Bucky furrow his eyebrows "no, why? Has something happened?" A pause before Sam speaks, "Can you check on her, please. She had a rough day at work. I have a feeling she is not at her best at the moment." Bucky's eyes dull hearing that the woman he's in love with is sad "okay, on it. Thanks for letting me know, Sam", he let out a sigh. "I've given her the week off, but please check." He sternly asks. "You have my word Sam" Bucky hangs up, turning to Steve.

"She had a bad day at work…" he frowns before plopping himself on the couch. "Well, buck, this may be a good opportunity to take her out on a date? Or even have a sneaky film night?" He stands up, patting his friend's shoulder. Bucky gives a slight grin, nodding, "Thanks, pal".

Steve walks out of the room, leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts, "okay okay okay, I can do this, I can do this." He hypes himself up, taking his phone pressing your contact that he had on speed dial.

"Yellop" Bucky hears on the other end of the phone; he couldn't help but melt to the sweetness of your voice. It was one he loved so much. It wasn't unusual to call each other; it was a religious routine for the both of you. If one didn't call, the other would. But this time, it was different; Bucky was nervous; it has taken him ten years to work up the courage to ask you out. But he still couldn't, not without seeing your face, not without being able to hold you as he said he loved you and not without comforting you first. He knew you didn't want to burden him with your troubles, so he took it upon himself to make up an excuse just to see you.

After the call, Bucky knew that you'd been hiding your emotions just to have your usual conversation with him. He felt even guiltier when he went on and on about you but never had the guts to tell you that he was talking about you.

Bucky packed a night bag from his room, packing it onto his motorbike before making his way to the local supermarket that was on the way to your house.

He picked up some of your favourite snacks and a bunch of your favourite flowers, securing them on his bike before riding to your house. Then, turning his bike off, he left it parked in your garage, heading inside. He closed the door behind him, walking into the kitchen laying the snacks on the table before heading down the hall into your room. He could hear the shower running and knew you were still in there.

He could hear you singing a soft melody of your favourite song; Bucky smiled, took his shoes off, and set them at the door in the hallway. Bucky flopped onto your soft bed with the flowers he had for you hidden on the bedside away from the bathroom door so you wouldn't be able to see them when you'd come out.

Finishing your shower a few minutes later, you wrapped your hair in a towel. Drying yourself and popping on your oversized henley, the same one Bucky had given you all those years ago when you had nothing to wear the first time you slept at his. You put some undies on and Van's socks. Using the dryer to dry your hair, you fitted your thick hair into a messy bun with your black scrunchy. "Alright", you took a deep breath before heading out to see Bucky lying on your bed.

"Oh, Buck! Hey," you smiled at him. His head was comfy on the bedsheets; he turned to see you, a bright smile upon his face. "Hey, doll," he noticed straight away that you weren't wearing any pants, something he was used to but not used to at the same time. You'd always make a fuss over going to bed with pants on; you hated wearing pants to bed. So you just opted for socks. "So", you sigh, flopping on the bed next to him. "Who is the girl?" You asked, turning your body to the side facing him. He chuckled, rolling over the edge of the bed, coming back to meet you, your favourite flowers in his hand; you both were face to face.

"You"…

~

You look at him, jerking your face back a bit in surprise but totally melting seeing the flowers. "M-me?" You reply; Bucky smiles, brushing the hair from your face nodding, "It's always been you y/n." His arm caressed your cheek, and you couldn't help but rest yours on his. You kissed the inner of his hand before taking the flowers leaving them on the bedside table.

"You know how long I've wanted to tell you that I love you" you smiled almost in tears; wrapping his metal arm around your waist, Bucky pulled your body close to his "And you know how long I've wanted to say the exact same thing" he rested his head against yours "I am in love with you y/n, I've loved you ever since I met you". You sniffled, cupping his cheek before leaning in, kissing his chapped lips; he leaned into him, kissing back "and just when I thought I was going to have to let you go, you prove me wrong," you chuckled through your tears.

He chuckles with you. "I couldn't tell you on the phone. I had to be here. Plus, Sam told me you had a bad day, so I wanted to be with you." You smiled, giving him the biggest hug. "Thank you, Buck. Thank you for doing this" he kissed the top of your head.

"You're welcome, love", he smiled.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sebastian Stan's Taglist: @buckyswintersoldiermask @lharrietg @buckyfan12 @afraid-to-be-me @fairityretro