#goodfellas fanfiction

[meme-streets]

the wild thing to me about the people who write like mafia watpadd fanfiction is that i'm absolutely sure none of them have ever seen a mob movie in their lives. i'm not saying film perfectly represents reality but i don't know where these people are getting their ideas of romanticized organized crime from because it sure as hell is not goodfellas

[perichat]

"My math could be off on this, but it also appears Goncharov has more fanworks than all other Martin Scorsese films combined (as of posting: Taxi Driver has 55, The Departed has 48, Shutter Island has 27, and every other Scorsese film I checked has less than 20)." Hey, do you have any hunch on why that would be the case? Like... don't Scorsese fans know AO3 exists? Are his movies just... not really good for fanfiction?

It's probably a combination of both

I think Scorsese's biggest film fans are more interested in film theory and analyzing the already existing the source material rather than taking that source material and creating something new with it. While there isn't that much fanfic, there's plenty of highly viewed video essays on Youtube about Scorsese films.

Conversely, I think fanfiction writers either aren't interested in or aren't inspired by Scorsese's work. Fanfic writers are generally more drawn to expansive universes with a lot of room to play around in, as opposed to standalone films about organized crime. Also, going off of what I see in the Goncharov Ao3 tag, it seems like most works center around 1. Katya being a girlboss and/or 2. the sexual tension between Goncharov and Andrey. And... while I'm not the most well-versed in Scorsese's works, I don't think strong female characters and homoerotic subtext are super-present themes in his films.

Also of note: some of Scorsese's work is based on real events/people (ex: Goodfellas, Wolf of Wall Street, The Irishman). Rpf is a somewhat niche fanfic interest, and most people who write it seem to prefer their favorite musicians/athletes/twitch streamers as opposed to mob bosses and Wall Street bankers.

[ladysophiebeckett]

all mafia dark romances should derive and be based on goodfellas fanfiction.

thats my advice for this stupid genre. 

[duderosiers]

the big old au post

hello.

here's a full rundown of au's i enjoy doing and if i can find the relevant roles for my ocs to fit in. some are more based on media than others, however im open to a lot of other aus as long as i know what I'm doing or have a idea haha.

WESTERN AU ; basic wild west au. settings depend on the oc used. i see rafael as a bounty hunter living in texas, ophelia as the pastors daughter and j.c as an outlaw. these are all malleable, and most of my knowledge comes from rdr2.

REGENCY AU; bridgerton. basically just bridgerton au. happy to change the setting and time. this is for j.c and ophelia. i could fit in rafael as well but i don't see the setting so clearly for him. ophelia is still unmarried due to a scandal a few seasons ago. j.c is the restrained son of a duke who hides many secrets. he also doubles as a lowborn ready to be someone's dirty little secret.

ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE / TWD AU; the world ended and the dead came to life. join all 3 of my ocs in this world. scenarios include simply trying to survive and find some happiness, trying to escape the city to a safe haven, or perhaps escaping people who've gone nutty. happy to begin this as the virus spreads and chaos ensues, or a few years into it. kind of based on a variety of zombie media.

BIRD PEOPLE AU; they're just all birds. or types of bird people. maximum ride BAYBEEE. they could be escaped experiments or this is literally just a world populated by bird people. for all 3.

SPECIES SWAP AU; just a general exploration of my characters as different species. this includes siren j.c, fae j.c and wolf j.c, fae ophelia and vampire ophelia, and fae rafael and vampire rafael. their backstories will be edited to reflect these changes.

CYBERPUNK AU; based on the videogame & tabletop game cyberpunk 2077. this is more of a specific au where in the future the world is owned by huge megacorporations. its basically the world we live in now but x10 exacerbated. everything outside major cities is dust. gang violence is the only way to really make it in the city if you're not rich. all 3 of my ocs fit into this au ; rafael is a leader of a sect of the valentino's and carries a gold arm, ophelia is a heiress who's 60% chrome and has her own line of beauty cybernetics and j.c would be a braindance tuner who sells XBD on the down low.

COFFEE SHOP AU; its the classic. more of a ship type setting for fluff. a chance to explore ✨️ships✨️

MOB AU; they're gangsters. very peaky blinders, goodfellas, the godfather, gangs of london. characters can be part of the same gang or different gangs. can also be set in a different time period. all 3 are included in this au.

GODS AU; in which the gods of various religions and cultures walk among us. they might know eachother, they could all be friends or exes. maybe they've given up godhood. all 3 are included in this au. maybe there's like a summit of them all. like a big old meeting of the old world gods and they attend.

ANGEL/DEMONS AU; good omens au but more flexible. much like the gods au they walk among the living. some enjoy humanity, some want to see it burn. a good old forbidden love au. can fit lots of dynamics in here. for all 3.

SOULMATE AU; one of those dumb old school fanfiction aus where you get a tattoo at 12 that matches to your soul mate somewhere around the world. or like you see colour when you touch or you get their signature on your wrist. another more shippy one. all 3 are included.

im up for a lot of things so. you know I can hash stuff out and shoot the shit in dms. i know a lot of pop culture, happy to slot them into pre existing molds.

[headoverhiddles]

Dating Jimmy Conway Would Include

Requested by anon!

- You're Jimmy's girl. Everyone knows you're off limits

- Don't even TALK to Jimmy's girl when he's around. He's very protective

- You're his world. At the end of the day, if anything happened to you, you're one of the few people in his life he would cry over

- since you've been with Jimmy for so long, you're close with the guys too. Tommy is the only one who will try and flirt with you cause he knows he's the only one who can get away with it

- Henry is terrified of you, cause he doesn't want anything he says or does to you to be misinterpreted by Jimmy. You find this hilarious

- Jimmy makes sure you have everything you could ever possibly want, but of course, he's smart about it

- he values loyalty above all else, so he'd be faithful to you and he'd know you're faithful in return

- honestly, you guys are a power couple. Nobody fucks with either of you, you're a united front, both with brains, brawn and lots of friends

- during sex, he's a total dom. He's in control, and he'll tell you what to do.

- Even outside of the bedroom, the two of you will get into a bit of power play and light dom/sub. You've got rules, and while you're a powerful person in front of others, you know you answer to your boyfriend

- you love being spoiled by him. He'll tease you sometimes, watching you walk by him by the pool one day, looking over his sunglasses

- "You're a spoiled brat, you know that? A spoiled little girl, a little princess." Most of his terms of endearment sound like insults, but the two of you know the love behind them

- He'll also joke with friends that you "bust his balls" when you don't get what you want, but anyone who knows Jimmy well enough, knows he's in charge

- His dates he takes you on are always classy with everyone in town waiting on him hand and foot, and of course, after the date, he makes sure you're good and satisfied. Only the best for Jimmy Conway's girl.

[arosebyanyother-name]

Love is Strange

CW: daddy kink, rough sex, non-consentual touching, violence

This is a little Goodfellas Tommy DeVito smutty fanfic

If anyone reads this I hope you enjoy!

You met Tommy at an art show of yours. He was walking by on his way home from a job when he saw you through the glass windows of the gallery schmoozing with critics, and he just couldn’t stop himself from introducing himself.

“This your work?” He asks, lighting a cigarette and considering your paintings.

“Yeah, you like?” You ask and smile, letting your eyes roam up and down his body. He looks back over to you.

“The colours, they’re...” he pauses to think and you laugh lightly.

“I can see you’re slightly out of your element here. You some kinda wise guy?” You ask and pull a cigarette out, placing it between your lips and leaning over to him for him to light it. He does just that.

“Wise guy?” He scoffs, playing it naive. You shake your head playfully, your smile never wavering.

“You know Tony (Y/L/N)?” You ask him and his eyebrows rise.

“Yeah, course I know Tony (Y/L/N). Good guy. Gone too soon.”

“My name’s (Y/N). I’m his daughter.” You tell him and he smiles wickedly.

“You’re Tony’s daughter?” He asks and you nod.

“Well fuck me, I guess you got your looks from your mother.” He huffs, looking you up and down.

“Well you obviously never met my mother, wise guy.” You nudge his arm with yours and look around the room, observing the people who have come to look at your art.

“Name’s Tommy, Tommy DeVito.”

“Nice to meet you Tommy Tommy DeVito. You wanna take me out for drinks or a meal or something?”

“When?” He asks, a little taken aback by your upfrontness even though your demeanour was more submissive than domineering.

“Now would be good.”

“Don’t you wanna stay here? It is your show ain’t it?”

“The gallery will tell me if anyone buys anything. I’ve had enough of critics and collectors telling me how much they love my work to my face and then tearing it down behind my back.”

“Tell me who’s been doing that and I’ll beat ‘em up nice for you.”

“Black and blue. My favourite colour combo.” He takes your arm and walks out of the gallery with you, opening the car door for you before you slide in. He takes you to some dive bar down the street that has a queue out the front, but you and Tommy get inside immediately. The dim lighting and lack of art critics in the place are enough for you to fall I love with the place. Someone buys Tommy a bottle of red wine as soon as you sit down and immediately you know you and Tommy are gonna get along just fine. You stay at the bar talking and drinking and smoking with Tommy until the early hours of the morning, at which point he drives you home, expecting you to invite him in when he pulls up outside your apartment building.

“Put your arm out.” You tell him and rummage around in your bag. He looks skeptical but does as you say. You pull a pen out of your bag and then pull his sleeve up, writing your number on his arm.

“Call me later. I’ll be waiting Tommy Tommy DeVito.” You press two of your fingers to your lips and then press them to his cheek. You walk away to your apartment, letting your hips sway and leaving Tommy with a hard on. He goes straight to Henry’s diner to tell his friends about you.

“She’s a fucking bombshell I tell you. Dynamite. In that dress she was wearing with those red lips. I’m getting hard just thinking about her.”

“But she didn’t fuck you? You don’t go for that.” Henry comments and Tommy scoffs at him.

“Not in a one nighter, (Y/N) is wife material.”

“An artist isn’t exactly traditional for a gangsters wife.” Henry says.

“Neither is being the daughter of a made gangster.” Jimmy chimes in.

“Yeah well her dad is dead, what’s he gonna do get out of his grave and beat my ass? I don’t fucking think so. She knows the business. What’s not perfect about that? Picked me for a gangster right away.”

“Who’d you say her dad was?” Jimmy asks.

“Old Tony (Y/L/N).”

“Fuck me. He was a big time. You better watch out for this (Y/N). Something tells me she’s gonna be busting your balls.”

“Busting my balls? I ain’t never heard anything so stupid!” Tommy laughs but deep down he knew you would bust his balls, and you would be much more difficult to keep happy than the usual wives. A month past and during that month you and Tommy saw each other practically every day. You were almost inseparable, but still, and to Tommy’s annoyance, no sex. You two kissed, and kissed a lot, and you let him feel you up on many occasions, which you knew left him rock hard, but you wanted to be sure you were able to keep him around without the sex. You were looking for husband material after all. He’d come visit you at the studio he rented out for you and watch you paint in his spare time, and take you out for dinner or drinks at least three times a week, but still you hadn’t met any of his friends. He wanted to make sure you wouldn’t embarrass him by pushing him around in front of his friends and colleagues, and he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t embarrass himself by bringing some fancy artist type in to meet his friends and colleagues, talking about how you were his girl, his future wife. Today thought, when Tommy rang you at your studio to say hello you were determined to meet them. I mean you’d already met his mother for god sakes, but not his friends? A little ball busting never hurt nobody.

“What are you doing today Tommy?” You ask and twirl the cord to your phone around your finger.

“Just attending to some business baby.”

“You at that restaurant you always hang at?”

“Why do you wanna know?” He asks sceptically.

“No reason baby, no reason at all.” You try to play it off.

“I’ll talk to you later baby, okay? Stay safe for me. Don’t kill nobody who don’t need to be killed.”

“Okay baby, okay. I’ll talk to you later you sexy bitch.” He whispers into the phone.

You laugh and hang up the phone, biting your bottom lip, heat rising in your stomach. Even if you didn’t want to meet his friends so bad you desperately needed to see Tommy. Maybe today was the day you finally give Tommy what he had been so desperately waiting for. You pack up your brushes and try to wipe the paint off of your clothes and hands before getting changed and fixing yourself up. You grab your bag and a container of almond cookies you baked earlier, and head out the door, walking briskly toward a deli down the road from your studio, ordering four subs. Once you had the food you begin to walk toward Henry’s restaurant. You saunter in, donning your curve hugging denim jumpsuit.

“Hey baby.” You say and all three men turn around. All of their eyes almost pop out of their skulls.

“Well don’t get up, let me bring your lunch to you. I know we’re in a restaurant but I figured your cook could use a break.” You walk to the bar where they are seated and put the food and cookies in front of all of them.

“You’re (Y/N)?” Henry asks and looks you up and down before Tommy punches him in the arm.

“What are you doing here baby?” Tommy asks.

“I just wanted to see you, and I wanted to meet your friends. Don’t mind me, I know what goes on here. If you want me to go I can just drop the food off and get back to my art.” You offer to leave and Tommy shakes his head immediately.

“Get over here. You’re not going anywhere.” He entends his hand and you take it, walking around the bar and sitting in his lap. He lays a sloppy passionate kiss on your lips, taking your chin firmly in his hand. You kiss back and moan against his lips, and immediately he can tell you’re more in the mood than he had ever seen you.

“Eat up boys, if you’re hungry.” You say, not breaking eye contact with Tommy.

“Hold your horses baby, let me introduce you to my boys. This here is Jimmy Conway” he explains and you shake Jimmy’s hand with a smile. Handsome guy, you think, but not handsome enough to takw you away from Tommy.

“And this is Henry Hill, a real wise guy.” You shake his hand as well and then lay another kiss on Tommy’s lips before you get up and serve the three men, then yourself. You lean onto the counter as you eat your lunch, and watch the three men eat theirs, letting your cleavage show. As you’re all eating and talking and laughing, and Tommy is eyeing you greedily, some other wise guys come into Henry’s establishment, laughing and carrying on obnoxiously. As they see you wrap your mouth around your sandwich, bent over, cleavage showing, one of them decides to come around to your side of the bar, standing behind you and feeling you up. Tommy immediately jumps up, scrambling onto the bar and jumping on the man, wrapping his hands around his neck before he starts to punch him, and punch him hard. You’re shocked but Jimmy and Henry just look on, amused.

“Baby! Tommy! Stop stop!” You practically beg and try to pull him off of the man.

“He’s not worth the time and effort it would take to chop him up and dig a hole.” Somehow this convinces him to stop, and he breathes heavily as he stands over the man and looks back over to you. You move forward and punch the man once in the face as hard as you can, knocking him out but not killing him.

“You okay baby?” Tommy asks you, finally standing up straight, fixing his suit jacket and putting your face in his hands.

“I’m fine Tommy. Jesus your hand!” You say as you notice his bloody knuckle.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it (Y/N). Just come sit on daddy’s lap.” He moves back over to his seat and you do as he says, sitting on his lap and snuggling into his chest as he wraps his arms around you. The guys friends drag him out of the joint and the four of you are left alone again.

“I ain’t never letting anyone hurt you. I ain’t even letting anyone get close.” He tells you, still with anger in his voice, glaring at the guy being dragged out. You nod to him, knowing he really means it. Henry and Jimmy are shocked that you could stop Tommy from killing him, and impressed. They see that you two might be a good match for one another after all.

“I love you Tommy.” You whisper into his ear and place a soft kiss on his cheek. It’s the first time you’ve told him you love him since you met a month ago. Tommy smiles.

“I love you too baby girl, and don’t you ever forget it.” He pulls you closer and you sigh into him, closing your eyes. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in Tommy’s strong safe arms. Later he invited you to a poker game he is having with the boys and some other guys later that night.

“You want me to play?” You ask confused.

“Nah, just sit on my lap and give me little smutty kisses. Make all the other boys jealous.” He says and you laugh softly as you bite your bottom lip.

“That’s kind of a relief, I don’t know how to play poker anyway!” You say and Tommy laughs at you.

“Your father didn’t teach you?” He asks curiously.

“Poker seemed like his thing back in the day.”

“Well I was only ten when he died. Did you know him?”

“I saw him around, was introduced to him once or twice, but I didn’t really know him.”

You nod and sigh, pushing some pieces of hair out of Tommy’s face.

“Dad would’ve hated us going together. He would have killed you before you could even touch me.”

“Well I guess I’m lucky he’s not around then.” He says and feels you up, letting his hands roam from your hips to your breasts.

“I guess we both are.” You pause and think.

“You have to promise me you’re not gonna get whacked. I can’t deal with that.”

“Baby I’m not going anywhere, okay? Before long I’ll be made and then no one will be able to fuck with me. Not even you.” He laughs and you laugh with him.

“I’ll always be able to fuck with you, you crazy motherfucker.” You crash your lips into his, leaving him flustered and hard when you pull away, and get up so that him and those other wise guys can start their game. You sit around the bar for a bit whilst the men play around a table. You talk to the servers and to the chefs, and eventually you get slightly bored. You watch Tommy play, and his competitive nature and aggression are turning you on to no end. You’re dripping wet. You take your vodka and coke and walk over to the duke box, putting on Love Is Strange.

‘How do you call your lover boy

Come here, lover boy

And if he doesn't answer

Oh lover boy

And if he still doesn't answer

I simply say’

You mouthe Sylvia’s parts as you saunter over to the table, swaying your hips and dancing. Immediately you have caught the attention of all the men in the diner. You walk to Tommy and straddle his lap, then sing along with the record to him.

“Baby, oh baby, my sweet baby, you're the one.” You pause and lean into his ear, biting it before whispering into it.

“Let me go down on you Tommy? Like right now? I’m desperate for you.” You breathe out a shuddering breath and his eyes widen. He pulls you off of him and gets up, gripping your upper arm.

“Aye, what the fuck are you doing?” Henry asks and Tommy gives him a stare that could practically kill.

“Just save me a spot in the next round, okay?”

“Where the fuck are you going?” Henry asks and Tommy scoffs.

“Save me a fucking spot or I’ll shoot the lot of ya!” He yells and takes you into the back room which is filled with fur coats and guns and cash. You immediately get down on your knees, undoing Tommy’s belt painfully slowly.

“It turns me on when you yell like that.” You tell him, mouth painfully close to his clothed appendage.

“I’m gonna enjoy this.” He tells you, and you unzip him, taking his cock out of his pants. He’s bigger than you expected. The weight of him makes you moan in anticipation. He grabs your hair on the back of your head and pulls you down onto his cock. You moan as you begin to suck, bobbing your head up and down and hollowing out your cheeks, getting faster and harder with each movement. He throws his head back, letting out breathy grunts. They turn you on real bad and you start to grind yourself against your heals, moaning against his big heavy cock. A minute passes and he notices how turned on you are.

“You wet for me you dirty bitch?” He asks and you nod around his cock. He pushes you off and you look up to him, catching your breath.

“You want daddy to fuck you hard?” He asks. You nod again.

“Get up and get naked. Now!” He yells and it makes you shudder, then moan in pleasure. You obey him, unzipping your jumpsuit to reveal you’re wearing no underwear underneath, not even a pair of panties.

“You little slut.” He comments and lifts you up so you’re seated on the edge of a rectangular table which is adjacent to two walls. He opens your legs wide and puts two fingers inside of you.

“You’re dripping wet for me. Good girl.” He whispers greedily as he watched your expression change. Eyebrows furrowed and biting your lip you moan loudly, paying no mind to the men sitting just outside the door. Give them a show, you think to yourself. Why not? You want to make them jealous of your relationship with Tommy. He takes his fingers out once he makes you a moaning mess, licking them clean before entering you with his cock. You practically scream at the feeling of his large member filling you up. He begins to thrust and you’re reduced to a mess of whimpers, moans and fucks.

“Agh, daddy... unnhhhhh fuck. Fuck me Tommy! AGH! Fuck I’m close daddy. Mmm... MMMh. Tommy! Tommy! I’m almost there.” You exclaim and he leans down, wrapping his hand around your neck and squeezing.

“Come for me you bitch!” He yells in your face and that sends both you and him over the edge. You scream out, breathing heavy and uneven. He grunts as he buries his load deep in your pulsing pussy. After a moment he pulls out, tucking his cock back into his pants and doing them and his belt back up. He’s red in the face and extremely satisfied. You close your legs and groan at the feeling of your cockles pussy, only left with the feeling of his hot cum in you. Just the thought of that makes you moan again.

“Mmm, thank you Tommy. That was...” you sigh contentedly and brush some hair out of your face. “Fucking amazing.” Tommy smiles a satisfied grin.

“Wish you’d let me fuck you sooner.” He says and you shake your head.

“It wouldn’t have been that good if I had... I’m gonna talk to Paulie about getting you made, he owes me.” You get up and put your jumpsuit back on. Tommy helps you fix your hair before you walk back out into the diner, your cheeks flushed both from the amazing sex you just had and from the embarrassment of knowing what the men heard. Jimmy smiles at you and Tommy as you walk out, the rest of them glare in jealousy. You smile to Tommy and you sit back on his lap as he sits down to play the next round of poker.

“Hey Spider! Get me and my girl a drink!”

[littlemissvincentvega]

May I please request dating h/c’s for Henry hill from goodfellas? Please and thank you!”❤️❤️❤️👉❤️❤️❤️❤️

i just found this in my drafts and apparently i completed it last time i was active on tumblr and just forgot to post it LOL so im sorry its late but i hope u like!!! if i remember correctly this was a really fun set of hcs to do 💖💖

so like when you’re dating henry hill, you’re basically dating the entire family LMAO you can’t have one without the other

they all accept you straight away pretty much!! especially paulie, he makes sure you’re comfortable, makes sure you have a place to sit at get-togethers. you know, like before you know everybody??? he wants you to feel comfortable 

it’s hard to actually get time alone with henry then though LMAO but that just makes it all the more satisfying to go back to his place and have each other to yourselves 

as overwhelming as it can be over at paulie’s (because so many people are around), it’s a real lovely, warm family environment

also, catch tommy & jimmy teasing henry at the dinner table and just all around banter it’s cute how embarrassed he gets

he definitely apologises to you a lot about tommy’s lack of a filter

jimmy’s real lovely to you though. he makes it apparent that he’s here for you and he’ll be keeping an eye on henry to make sure he treats you like a queeeeeen (even tho he knows he will, he sees the way henry looks at you)

which he does 🥺

expect gifts ok

lots of gifts

expensive gifts

luxury coats, jewellery, dresses, shoes, elegant hats

he doesn’t really tend to have you at his place for dinner, he prefers to take you out. usually to fancy restaurants, but if you go out for lunch together you’re happy to go to diners 💖

he really likes you to hold onto his arm in public

this may be hard for some of yall to hear but he won’t put you above his family. mostly because now you ARE one of the family, but basically you’re all equally important to him. he won’t put one above the other

seeing him play with the kids at get-togethers is so endearing ok

oh, and he’s not afraid to pack a punch if anyone threatens or hurts you :)))

neither are the other guys but this is about henry ok i gotta stay on topic i know

if he has to kill for you, he’ll kill for you wow what a romantic 

henry’s one of those guys that really enjoys kissing

especially in public. pulling you to one side to make out? yeppers

getting handsy at functions (parties)? you bet

oh and, speaking of functions, you’ll probably end up blowing him in the toilets a fair few times bc he’s into that

but to conclude-- gifts, luxury & family 🥺🥺

[mushyjellybeans]

Bucky Goodfellas (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky x reader Word Count: 1.7k Warnings: Language, Bucky having a mood. A/N: Submitting this for @stuckonjbbarnes​ 250 writing challenge!! Had so much fun writing this, and pleased to be finally posting it!! Prompt: “I’m funny how? Funny like I’m a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh? I’m here to fucking amuse you? What do you mean funny? Funny how? How am I funny?”

Taglist is open // Requests are open // Masterlist

Another day in the office, another day in the compound surrounded by superheroes who did nothing but argue with each other the entire day.

And by each other, it was usually you and Mr. Barnes.

You rubbed your temples trying to ease the headache. You were actually used to being Bucky's target. He would find any reason to scream at you. Last week you were yelled at by him because you forgot to wash your dishes and he ended up doing them for you. Unfortunately, you were known for your occasional pranks and saw an opportunity you couldn't resist.

Eggs were out of date by a week, Sam was flying around testing his new suit upgrade when you childishly threw the rotten eggs at him, but you missed and the eggs smashed in Bucky's face and trapped in between the plates of his metal arm. You had a long lecture from Bucky but made no attempts to stifle your laughter while he yelled inches from your face earning a cold glare from Bucky.

You were currently seated on the comfortable large corner couch Tony had very generously bought (and one side was already broken from when an argument between Bucky and Sam heated up), with your legs tucked underneath you trying to concentrate on the words from your book in front of you. Instead, you have read the same lines over and over again and still not registering what they said.

Bucky walked into the kitchen and you could tell by his strut he was in one of his bad moods. It didn't help that you might have pulled yet another prank and switched his coffee for gravy. After he spat the fluids out, he turned into a hulk, immediately locking eyes on your sitting form.

"Y/N!!!" He roared. "You're the most annoying person in this fucking tower!" Bucky kept yelling.

Don't provoke him, don't provoke him Y/N just say you're sorry.

"You're the most annoying person in this fucking tower." You mimicked him in a high-pitched childish voice.

Ugh, well-done Y/N.

His nostrils flared, and good god if looks could kill he would have killed you months ago.

"SHUT UP Y/N AND STOP ACTING LIKE A FUCKING CHILD! DO YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?" He stalked closer waving his empty mug around and threw it against the wall behind you, and you would have been scared and jumped over the back of the couch by now but you were aware Steve was in the kitchen keeping an eye on things, he would interfere if Bucky got too physical towards you.

But that's what surprised you, Bucky told you every single day he hated you and you annoyed the shit out of him without even trying, going as far as telling you how worthless you are to the team. You kept your head high but his words did hurt and you didn't know what you did to make him so volatile towards you. You kind of figured if he was allowed and there were no restrictions, he would kill you with no hesitation.

"I thought the coffee prank was very funny." You mumbled but he heard you.

He stalked closer, hands scrunched up into fists by his side. He was right in front of you and you kept your glance on his stomach.

"Buck, stop," Steve called out as a warning.

Bucky stepped back, not realizing the table in the middle of the room was so close behind him, and he ended up falling backwards into it, shattering the once beautiful piece of furniture into broken pieces.

That probably wasn't funny, he could have hurt himself, but his face of utter shock and surprise was priceless, his senses should have picked up these kinds of things so he wouldn't alert his enemies. Your stifled laugh turned into a snort and when Bucky was helped up by Steve he glared at you again.

"I'm sorry." You apologized, hands up in surrender. "You're just funny, I can't help it." You smirked.

His nostrils flared open like a hippo’s, clenching and unclenching his fist as his voice dripped with such venom, "I'm funny how? Funny like I'm a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh? I'm here to fucking amuse you? Funny how? How am I funny? Because I don't fucking understand Y/N, how is putting pink hair dye in my shampoo funny? Or putting hair remover in my shower gel? Or me falling into a wooden fucking table funny to you? If I’m so fucking amusing to you, maybe I should find a career in the fucking comedy business." He ranted. Steve holding him by the shoulder to keep the distance, but you could tell Steve was doing his best to hide his grin at the pranks Bucky just listed.

Your eyebrow quirked up. And then you remembered it. How could you not? It was one of your favorite movies.

"Did you just....did you just quote Goodfellas?" You smirked.

Bucky blinks for a moment, shaking Steve from his shoulder and assuring him he's okay now.

Not that Bucky would ever physically hurt you. He saw you as his annoying little sibling who seemed to go out of their way to piss him off.

"I uh..no." he blushed. Wait he blushed?

"Oh my GOD you did! That's one of my favorite movies." You had a grin on your face and for once it was genuinely for Bucky.

He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and sighed.

"It's mine too." He said loud enough for you to hear.

Nodding your head and keeping a smile, you thought for a moment and you couldn't believe the words that were about to leave your mouth, but you wanted this constant-old-married-couple fighting to stop, you were tired.

"Do you maybe wanna watch it sometime? Together?" You asked nervously, fidgeting with the corner of the page from your book.

You can see the hesitation in his face. You don't get along, of course, he doesn't.

"Sure." He smiled, nodding his head.

You went to his room to watch the movie and for a good while it was going great until he went into his bathroom to brush his teeth. You cleared up the candy wrappers on the bed and threw them in the trash when he screamed your name.

Your eyes were wide with shock. What did I do now?

He strutted from the bathroom, his face red with anger.

"Did you fucking put moisturizer in my toothpaste?!" He gritted through his teeth.

Oh. My. God. You had totally forgotten that. He turned his back for a minute when you seized the opportunity to run for the door. Only you couldn't outrun the super-soldier, his arms grabbed your waist as you sprinted past and pressed your back tight to his stomach seeing he was taller than you. Your hands gripped his that were firmly holding you to him, you were visibly shaking because he has never been physical, but you were alone with him and Steve wasn't here to help you.

"Bucky, please please I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You tried pleading before and knew it doesn't work on him.

He chuckled in your ear, "Oh, doll you’re in trouble now."

Permanent Taglist: @stuckonjbbarnes​ @sebbbystaaan​ @livylou3333​ @infj-slytherclaw​ @morsmordrethings​ @veganfangirl5​ @valkyriesryde​ @honeyvbarnes​ @buckysdumbmetalarm​ @lovvliies​ @iheartsebastianstan​ @zeilenkrieg​ @marvelsangels​ @photography-to-all​ @tuesdays-are-for-bobby​ @margoshanotherwriter​

And some amazing people: @babblingbonky​ @chloerinebarnes​ @stateoflovinged​ @mypassionsarenysins​

[larry-and-flower-crowns]

hey guys don’t mind me just shamelessly plugging my naruto x sasuke fic “The Hollow People” and while you’re at it you should comment i mean if you’re bored or whatever 

(pls validate me) 

[versmac]

so i definitely didn't write a sequel to the macdennis dirty dancing fic that no one asked for. its about gangs, check it out - http://archiveofourown.org/works/13203084/chapters/30201870

[starwarzboner]

I got a new catchphrase: i dont give a fuuuuck!

[succession]

I was tagged by the very kind @nomilkinmyteaplease

1. Favorite piece of clothing you own: Easily my Venture Bros. Gargantua 2 hoodie. It's so soft and comfortable and one of the ways I cling to my love for The Venture Bros.

2. Favorite song: The Cranes are Scared of Sunwords by Kiss the Anus of a Black Cat.

3. Favorite time of year: That burst of time when Spring shifts into Summer.

4. Comfort food: I love oatmeal cream pies, but if I'm talking about a meal, my ma's lemon chicken. I'd tear the world apart for her to make it again.

5. Do you collect something: No! I really don't.

6. Favorite drink: ...seltzer. I don't drink soda and alcohol is a rarity.

7. Favorite fanfiction: Amityville by thedevilchicken (Kent/Chandler, Whitechapel). The thing in Kent's flat won't take no for an answer. It works with the shifting creepiness of the series and Kent's affection/obsession with Chandler. I recommend everything by this author for the fandom, but this is delicious.

8. Place you'd love to be right now? Right now, England then Ireland.

9. Your favorite film... of all time? Goodfellas

Feel free to tag yourself!

[oneweekoneband]

I’m slightly nauseous already with knowing I’m going to say this, but what does “self-awareness”  even mean? In modern parlance, as a descriptive phrase, as a comment on art? I’m asking in earnest, like, I’ve been Googling lately, which for me is basically on par with doctoral study in terms of academic rigor. The self is king, anyway, tyrant, so where is the line of distinction between material that intentionally is nodding at some truth about the artist’s life and what’s just, like, all the rest of the regular navel-gazing bullshit. I mean, I’m all self, I am guilty here. I can’t get it out of my poems or even make it more quiet. This is the tenth time I’ve invoked “I” in the space of six sentences. Processing art has always necessitated a certain amount of grappling with the creator, but the busywork of it lately grows more and more tedious. Joy drains out of my body parsing marks left behind not just in stylistic tendencies and themes, but in literal, intentional tags like graffiti on a water tower. This feels an age old and moth-holed complaint, dull, and I am no historian, or really a serious thinker of any kind. I’ve now complained at some length about self-referential art, but didn’t I love how Martin Scorsese nodded to the famous Goodfellas Copacabana tracking shot with the opening frames of last year’s The Irishman? Didn’t I find that terribly fun and sort of sweet? So there’s distinctions. I’m only saying I don’t know with certainty what they even are. I’m unreliable, and someone smarter than me has likely already solved my quandary about why self-knowledge often transforms into overly precious self-reflexivity in such a way that the knowledge is diminished and obscured, leaving only cutesy Easter eggs behind. Postmodernism has birthed a moralizing culture where art exists to be termed either “self-aware Good” or “self-aware Bad”.  Self-referentiality in media is so commonplace, so much the standard, that what was once credited as metatextual inventiveness often feels lazy now. In 1996, Scream was revitalizing a genre. Today, two thirds of all horror movies spend half their running time making sure that you know that they know they’re a horror movie, which is fine, I guess, except sometimes you just wanna watch someone get butchered with an axe in peace. 

This is all to say that in 2020 Taylor Swift looked long and hard upon her image in the reflecting pool of her heart and has written yet another song about Gone Girl.

“mirrorball” is a very good piece of Gone Girl —feels insane to tell anyone reading a post on a blog what Gone Girl is but, you know, the extremely popular 2012 novel about a woman who pretends to have been murdered and frames her husband for it, and subsequently the 2014 film adaption where you kinda see Ben Affleck’s dick for a second—fanfiction. It would be a fine song, a good song, really, even if it weren’t that, if it were just something normal and not unhinged written by a chill person who behaves in a regular way, but we need to acknowledge the facts for what they are. When Taylor Swift watched Rosamund Pike toss her freshly self-bobbed hair out of her face and hiss, “You think you’d be happy with some nice Midwestern girl? No way, baby. I’m it!” her brain lit up like a Christmas tree, and she’s never been the same. If you Google “taylor swift gone girl” there waiting for you will be a medium sized lake’s worth of articles speculating about how Gone Girl influenced and is referenced in past Swift singles “Blank Space” and “Look What You Made Me Do”. This is not new behavior, and if anything it’s getting a bit troubling to think that it’s been this long since Taylor’s read another book. Still, while the prior offerings were a fair attempt at this particular feat of depravity, “mirrorball” has brought Taylor’s Amy Elliott Dunne deification to stunning new heights. And most importantly, Taylor has done a service to every person alive with more than six brain cells and a Internet connection by putting an end to the “Cool Girl” discourse once and for all. By the power invested in “mirrorball”, it is hereby decreed that the Cool Girl speech from Gone Girl is neither feminist or antifeminist, not ironic nor aspirational. No. It’s something much better than all that. It’s a threat. I ! Can ! Change ! Everything ! About ! Me ! To ! Fit ! In !

Gone Girl (2012) by Gillian Flynn

“mirrorball” (2020) by Taylor Swift

When the twinkly musical stylings of Jack Antonoff, a man I distinctly distrust, but for no one specific reason, whirl to life at the beginning of this song I feel instantly entranced, blurry-brained and pleasure-pickled like an infant beneath a light-up crib mobile or, I guess, myself in the old times, the outside times, three tequila sodas deep under the disco lights at The Short Stop. Under a mirrorball in my head. I know very little about music, as a craft, and I really don’t care to know more. I’m happy in a world of pure, dumb sensation. I’m not even sure what kind of instruments are making these jangly little sounds. I just like it. I am vibing. We may not ever be able to behave badly in a club again, but I can sway to my stupid Taylor Swift-and-the-brother-of-the-lady-who-makes-like-those-sweatshirts-with-little-sayings-or-like-vulvas-which-famous-white-women-wear-on-instagram-you-know-what-I-mean song, pressing up onto my tiptoes on the linoleum tile of our kitchen floor and can feel for a second or two something approaching bliss. “mirrorball” is a lush sound bath that I like a lot and then also it’s about being all things to all people, chameleoning at a second’s notice, doing Oscar worthy work on every Zoom call, performing the you who is good, performing the you who is funny, performing the you who draws a liter of your own blood and throws it around the kitchen then cleans it up badly all to get your husband sent to jail for sleeping with a college student... Too much talk about making and unmaking of the self is way too, like, 2012 Tumblr for me now, and I start hearing the word “praxis” ring threateningly in my head, but I’m not yet so evolved that I don’t feel a pull. Musings on the disorganized self—on how we are new all the time, and not just because of all the fresh skin coming up under the dead, personhood in the end so frighteningly flexible—are always going to compel me, I’m afraid, but that goes double for musings on the disorganized self which posit that Taylor Swift still thinks Amy Dunne made some points.

Because on “mirrorball” Taylor is for once not hamfistedly addressing some “hater”, in the quiet and the lack of embarrassing martyrdom it actually offers an interesting answer to the complaint that Taylor is insufficiently self-aware. This criticism emerges often in tandem with claiming to have discovered some crack in the chassis of Swift’s public self, revealing the sweetness to be insincere. My instinct is to dismiss this more or less out of hand as just a mutation of the school of thought that presumes all work by women must be autobiography. And, regardless, it is made altogether laughable by the fact that anyone actually paying attention has known since at least Speak Now, a delightful record populated by the most appalling, horrible characters imaginable, and all of them written by a twenty year old Taylor Swift, that this woman is a pure weirdo. To accuse Taylor Swift of lacking in self-awareness is a reductive misunderstanding, I think, of artifice. Being a fake bitch takes work. Which is to say, if we agree that her public self is a calculated performance—eliding the fact that all public selves are a performance to avoid getting too in the weeds yadda yadda— why, then, should it be presumed that performance is rooted in ignorance? Would it not make more sense that, in fact, someone able to contort themselves so ably into various shapes for public consumption would have a certain understanding of the basic materials they’re working with and concealing? Taylor Swift, in a decade and a half of fame, has presented herself from inside a number of distinct packages. The gangly teenager draped in long curls like climbing wisteria who wrote lyrics down her arms in glitter paint gave way to red lipstick, a Diet Coke campaign, and bad dancing at awards shows. There was the period where she was surrounded constantly by a gaggle of models, then suddenly wasn’t anymore, and that rough interlude with the bleached hair. The whole Polaroid thing. Last year she boldly revealed she’s a democrat. Now it’s the end of the world and she’s got frizzy bangs and flannels and muted little piano songs. Perhaps this endless shape-shifting contradicts or undermines, for some, the pose of tender authenticity which has remained static through each phase, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been doing it all on purpose the entire time. I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try...

In the Disney+ documentary—which, in order to watch, I had to grudgingly give the vile mouse seven dollars, because the login information that I’d begged off of my little sister didn’t work and I was too embarrassed to bring it up a second time—Taylor referred to “mirrorball” as the first time on the album where she explicitly addressed the pandemic, referring to the lyrics that start, “And they called off the circus, Burned the disco down,” and end with “I’m still on that tightrope, I’m still trying everything to get you laughing at me,” which actually did made me laugh, feeling sort of warmly foolish and a little fond, because it never would have occurred to me that she was trying to be literal there. I suppose we really do all contain multitudes. Hate that.

[carygrantsbeard]

I feel like ALL my mutuals need to know this some people on this website are writing Robert De Niro x reader fanfiction I found this out when I went through the goodfellas tag yesterday. Before you ask no I am not one of them

[headoverhiddles]

Jimmy Conway Comforting You Would Include

Requested by anon! 

- When Jimmy sees that you’re crying, he immediately gets his shackles up inside, but on the outside he keeps calm. 

- He’s your rock, and he needs to appear strong for you. You cry into him as he holds you, asking soft questions

- "Who did this to you, baby? Who did this? Who made you feel like this?"

- If you didn't see who, he'll drop it for the time being and focus on caring for you. Later, he'll revisit it what does boys and get to the bottom of it. He's relentless in that way when it comes to you and your safety

If you do know who it is, he'll immediately get the guys and hunt them down. He extremely protective

- Jimmy's a very good listener. He'll listen to anything that upsets you, anything you need to get off your chest. While he's not always the best by way of advice, you always feel heard with him, and you know he cares

- Jimmy talks a big game when it comes to people who have hurt you, but he always follows through. It's dangerous how angry he gets, but he has a great way of hiding it when he wants to calm you down

- lots of hugs. He'll hug you a lot to make you feel better, and they're the big tight kind where he won't let go until he's sure you're a little bit better

- he'll also give you gifts to make you feel better. This doesn't always help the matter, but in the meantime, while he plots his revenge, it's a sweet gesture

[burialsocietyrpg]

Hi! This rp looks genuinely so beautiful and the plot is unique from any other hp rp I’ve seen in the tags for a long time, but I’m not really familiar with the era. I usually only apply for marauders era or next gen. I guess what I’m asking is, what can I expect from this group if I apply?

Hi anon! First of all, I’d like to wholeheartedly thank you for your kind words, it’s messages like these that brighten my day. Second, I’d like to apologize for letting this ask sit in my inbox for a hot minute, but I wanted to be able to answer as thoughtfully and thoroughly as I could.  I think that the Riddle era as a setting for roleplays, fanfiction, and just in general is highly underrated and undervalued. It does lack the draw of fanon favorites like the marauders or the children of the golden trio, but the time period and the opportunity to play the parents of marauders era characters or characters who are otherwise much older than the popular favorites makes up for it. ( I mean, where else would you get the chance to play someone like RUBEUS HAGRID or ORION BLACK without feeling a little disjointed in the midst of all those younger characters? ) BURIAL SOCIETY in particular, if I do say so myself, combines what I consider to be some of the best aspects of both of the eras you mentioned –– such as the opportunity to play the parents and relatives of beloved canon characters ( James Potter’s parents, Sirius Black’s father, Frank Longbottom’s mother, Molly Weasley’s uncle, Lucius Malfoy’s father, and more ) as well as the element of the plot bringing in more contemporary, unique, and complex narratives beyond that of ‘bad guys vs. good guys, with some neutral people thrown in the mix’. 

I’m not saying that no other era has groups that stray from that narrative, but I do think that next generation groups in particular are the ones that usually have plots that not only deal with modernization ( technology in Hogwarts, squibs in Hogwarts, etc. ) but also align with real world ideals and attitudes due to the more contemporary time period.  TL;DR: I do understand preference for marauders era or next gen, but if you decide to try something new and take this era for a test drive you can still find comfort in playing your favorite character’s ancestor or exploring a plot that deals with dynamic and contemporary attitudes all while getting to play around with a magical setting reminiscent of mad men/grease/the godfather/goodfellas/brooklyn/etc.!