#steve your gayness is showing

[swagcity1738]

ALL CREDIT GOES TO WHOEVER MADE THIS

i have no fucking clue but i was on pinterest so whoever Cloey is thanks for uploading it :)

[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (1)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Puppy, (see premise post or series)

Summary: An ultra-shy man named Grant arrives with various friends to your family-owned motel. He opens up slowly over the months...and grows a fantastic beard. 🤭

While this part has no mature situations, this series will be 18+ only. MINORS DNI. This is mostly pure setup for the smut in every future chapter. Your media consumption is your responsibility; please choose for yourself if these matters trigger you. If so, there is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this work is not it! WC ~2k

He first arrives with only his friend—two fit fellas, one white, one black. They pay in cash, share a double room. The most information you get is Tom Smith, the more open of the two, joking that you’ll have to excuse Grant’s shyness.

Grant doesn’t seem to respond to his own name.

He’s a beefy blond, and your impression is the man doesn’t need to have a lot going on up top to get by in life. You do try not to judge, though. Your job is more about keen observation and recognizing the needs of your guests.

These two guests need privacy. They aren’t unfriendly, but they are not chatty. They go as quickly as they came. One night. The room is slept in, but they were clean enough.

The next time they show up they need three rooms, but you only have two available. Tom and Grant bunk up again, and a couple are with them who do not come into the office. The woman has beautiful auburn hair that she covers with a ball cap, and her very tall beau—whose hand she holds—shields himself in far more clothing than necessary this time of year.

They all sleep (you assume) during the day and only socialize at night when the other guests aren’t around.

Not that the party is loud; they simply seem more at ease when it’s harder to see. They stay three or four days, leaving rather suddenly early one night after paying for the time already.

Sporadically, this continues.

Once it’s only the couple. She is very reserved and he is very awkward, but again nice enough. They stay for nearly two weeks, enjoying hikes in the area, always holding hands. The woman relaxes significantly. It’s quite lovely to see.

Mister and Misses Durham, you know them as. They don’t always respond by name either.

Another visit makes five guests with the addition of a beautiful young woman. Her hair is cropped and bleach blond, and she is by far the most at ease.

It’s this visit that you realize they are just staying in their rooms during the day not sleeping, and you find the karaoke machine to take to Tom’s room.

He’s thrilled, thank goodness, because you don’t normally offer up activities to those who don’t ask about them, but Tom bangs on the doors of the other two (you think) couples so they can join him.

You’re about to leave when he asks you to do a duet with him.

Grant throws out that Tom enjoys Marvin Gaye. It’s the most you’ve heard him say, ever.

“I do,” Tom agrees, “but I don’t mess with the master.”

So you have the idea to sing Marvin Gaye—the song—with Tom as Charlie Puth and you as Meghan Trainor.

It’s quite a lot of fun, belting as best you can, finding Grant’s intense gaze on you for the lyrics:  I’m like a stray without a home… I’m like a dog without a bone…

Just as quickly, however, you have to go back to the front desk. Duty calls and all.

You make sure they know the machine is all theirs for as long as they want. Their rooms are too far down the line of the building to hear if they do enjoy it for long, but you get no complaints about noise. You hope for the best.

Later that night, Grant comes by the office, carrying the machine with a smirk on his face and the most genuine appreciation on his lips. He has a lovely deep voice you never knew about.

He just talks to you.

It’s all superficial conversation about the area, the weather, what activities you like on your days off, but even that seems a struggle for him.

Tom was not kidding. His friend is extremely shy. He has trouble thinking up casual questions. He can’t look you in the eye until responding, and he doesn’t give more than a few words in answer to anything.

You laugh--you have to—when Grant asks if he can walk you to your door, which…is ludicrous because you live in the house a whopping fifty meters past the main motel. Your family has owned and run this place for three generations. You’ve walked that path your whole life.

“I like walking,” he shrugs, though from the sheer muscles on him, he does way more than just walk. “I was gonna do a lap or two anyway.”

“Well, I have to wait for Clark to show up, but—“ you look him up and down “—okay.”

Grant is so sweet but so stiff. He holds himself with purpose when actively thinking, but you catch him having these distant moments. He withers like a violet, a shell that’s too small for his big body. He seems lost and lonely.

You’re glad to do whatever keeps him company. Your goal for the night is to make Grant smile as much as humanly possible, but that’s difficult when he won’t let you know anything about him.

Twenty minutes later, Clark, a local stoner kid who hardly looks up from his phone, waltzes in, stepping around Grant like a wall that’s always been there and throwing a “hey, man” out with zero regard for a response. Classic Clark. That’s why he’s on night shifts.

So you grab your bag and let Grant hold the door open for you.

Maybe you’ve been watching the Durhams too much when they come around, but you feel a compulsion to hold his hand. You don’t, obviously, because you only just heard this guy speak for the first time today. It would also be incredibly awkward to hold Grant’s hand in the dead silence that follows on your way up the gravel path.

You’re so consumed by figuring out what to say next that you don’t notice till the beast is right there.

An elk walks right in front of you, taller than Grant. From this angle the animal blocks the entire view of your house it’s so big, and you jump back, slamming into your startled escort’s chest.

You both freeze as it moves slowly at a diagonal to the other side of woods, bringing it and its gigantic horns closer still.

It squawks like some sort of awful banshee and stamps huge hoofs. You throw your weight backward and spin to flee, clambering over Grant’s body.

Why you’re so scared, who knows; you should be used to the wildlife, but no creature has ever done this before.

The most shocking thing, however, is how strongly Grant tries to hold you immobile.

The harsh grip on your waist and the way he hisses through his teeth for you to stop should be your hint, but instead you cling to him harder, asking quietly if the animal is gone.

“Uh…” Grant tenses against you. “It’s…it’s just—“ he shudders when you wriggle “—yes, gone,” he bites out, pushing you away by the hips.

He takes a second to breathe, buries his hands in his pockets, and leans forward, gathering himself.

It was scary. That could have turned nasty very quickly. You were lucky Grant was there and calm…except he was sorta the reason you were distracted in the first place.

Finally composed, he sighs and motions forward. “Let’s get you home.”

Two months later, Grant’s initial five o’clock shadow has come in nicely.

You’ve learned the routine of their check-in. There’s only one room available, unfortunately, but if they stay more than two days, there should be another open.

Tom shrugs and offers a playful, “we’ll see. We go where the wind takes us.” He smooths his palm over a fresh fade at his nape and the sharp angles of his goatee.

“And you, I see, have stopped in for a cut with Terrence in town. He loves the three slices like that.” That's how the barber marks his work. Terrence's shop is very popular.

“It’s a good signature. Wish I could'a convinced this big lug to get a trim.” Tom elbows his friend who stares at his feet.

Grant runs his fingers through his golden locks and swallows. “Yeah, well, maybe next time.”

Without realizing what you’re doing, you stand on the rungs of your stool behind the counter and reach for his lusciously full beard.

“Don’t you dare get rid of this,” you chide, fingertips grazing the skin of his cheek beneath the course yet soft hairs.

You should apologize. You should let go and sit back down. You should professionally hand them their key and be done with it, but instead, you linger, watching his blue eyes darken with a primal devastation.

He’s prey caught in a cage.

You release Grant’s face with an awkward laugh and a shake of your head.

Tom makes his own, very knowing face, and winks.

“You should do that more. Touch him. He could use it.”

Grant clears his throat harshly and blushes, mumbling something about which room number you said they had and that he’ll bring the other bags from the car. He leaves. Tom takes the keys with another wink and a sassy tap on the hardwood.

“Thank ya, ma’am. We appreciate it.”

It’s about twenty minutes later when your pen rolls off the edge of the counter, you find a small duffle left where Grant stood.

“He was joking. It was a joke,” Grant blurts when he finds you standing there to give it back.

You just smile and say Tom isn’t wrong.

“So, if you ever just want a hug…” you mutter, taking a chance to scratch at his bearded chin again. “Not like you’re gonna hurt me.”

He looks back inside, as if seeking permission or checking to make sure his friend is still in the bathroom, singing in the shower.

Grant can’t seem to meet you halfway, but he does inch forward, struggling to word a simple ‘yes.’

The tentative embrace starts with only the top of his chest touching you, bent so his butt is out, no pressure on his hands at your shoulders, so you push a little more and a little more. You get close enough he needs to wrap his arms around you instead. He has to stand straight so his chin doesn’t poke your forehead. He whimpers slightly when your own arms encircle his tiny waist.

A few breaths later, he relaxes into a lovely full-body hug, his rough fingertips on your bare skin where your shirt bunched up. You’re both being human, no more, no less, tangled in simple comfort.

Grant tucks his face into your collarbone suddenly and squeezes, not so hard that it hurts but not gently either. The move tickles you with his beard, your hands pawing up his back as you giggle, and he whines like wounded prey.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you soothe. “I can be here, if you want, to hold. It’s okay.”

That has the opposite effect you intended, knocking him out of some soft reverie and launching him back a foot, a necessary but unwelcome distance.

Grant looks guilty, needy, and resigned as he thanks you for returning the bag and sees you out the door.

dividers by cafekitsune and firefly-graphics

A/N: This will be the shortest (probably) of all the parts, and yeah, we get into some smuttier moments pretty quickly... Stay tuned!

[Next Part: Sweet Baby]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @spectre-posts @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

[gaypirateslife4me]

I survived Buffy and Faith. (BtVS)

I survived Dean and Cas. (SPN)

I survived Olivia and Alex. (SVU)

I survived Sherlock and Watson. (Sherlock)

I survived Bucky and Steve, AND Sam and Steve, AND Bucky and Sam. (MCU)

I survived Clark and Lexa (t100).

I am currently surviving Will and Mike, Steve and Eddie, AND Nancy and Robin. (Stranger Things)

I have suffered through: queerbaiting; "everyone experiments in college"; queer coded? - they must be the villain!; "the inherent tragedy of gayness" (repression, AIDs, violence, hatred); girl-on-girl male fanservice; "pray the gay away"; and, most personally painful, "bisexuals aren't real, they just need to pick a side". (I mean, I am though?)

I have been fully and irrevocably traumatized by having to watch my beloved queers be buried over & over & over.

I have literally spent three-and-a-half decades in a toxic, abusive relationship with (not so) queer media.

Upon recommendation of multiple queer friends, I (skeptically, cynically, borderline angrily) watched their so-called "GAY PIRATE (affectionate)" comedy, and was gobsmacked.

Our Flag Means Death gave us: well-rounded characters that are 'no-room-for-guessing, even-your-deeply-repressed-insufferable-republican-uncle-can-see-it queer! Multiple queers with disabilities! Neurodivergent queers! A genderqueer pirate so slay I lose my breath every time they are on screen! Sex between mlm not reduced to 1) tittilation or 2) the raunchy punchline of a mean joke! An unapologetic celebration of Found Family! Drag treated with respect, and as a catalyst for openly queer joy! A fabulous gay wedding! And that's not to mention the loving, romantic, complicated, vulnerable, beautiful relationship between the two male protagonists!

I saw it. with my own two eyeballs. for the first time ever. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I assumed everyone must be as thrilled, honored, and overjoyed as I am for all the rep, positivity, and LOVE.

I was wrong.

It breaks my queer little heart that so many people on this glorious hellsite are furious, indignant, and quick to cancel the characters, the actors, the writers, and the showrunners for not being spoon-fed perfect queer characters in perfect queer relationships for perfect queer rep in ACTUAL queer media that exists! In canon!

It hurts to be vilified for being a fan who refuses to condemn the show and for loving concerningly imperfect and deeply-flawed queer characters.

I am sorry, but as far as I'm concerned, LOVE WON. We won. Please stop coming into my house (blog) and pissing all over my rainbow parade.

[gaysheep]

im pretty sure when steve hillenberg said spongebob was asexual he probably wasn't aware of the term as a personal identifying label but that was The most elegant way someone could have handled "conservative parents think your children's cartoon character is endorsing a homosexual lifestyle" in the 2000s without alienating the gay people who'd already adopted him as a community symbol because of it

like, what a concise way to say "this character's sexual preferences were never a topic of consideration for me and it's weird that you think they were." it's not a focus of the show, but characters ARE depicted in romantic relationships in an age-appropriate way for its demographic, so i think it's notable that he only addresses the topic of sex (instead of saying something insane like "hal was a straight computer.")

he correctly identified that their rhetoric centered on sneakily conflating "gayness" with "sexual deviance" and only shut down the accusation that he was showing kids inappropriate sexual content without even justifying the part-and-parcel "a gay relationship in a kids' cartoon that's depicted exactly the same as a straight one is still intrinsically sexual" with a response

[zodiyack]

YOURE WELCOME TO DISAGREE THIS IS JUST WHAT MY SIBLING AND I TALKED ABOUT AND AGREED ON.

what we think about the gayness of stranger things~

Billy

Okay, billy is like... Well we headcannon him as overprotective but just going about it the wrong way due to his father. Mans acts out because it's a trauma response. I suggested that he doesn't like commitment because his father settled down twice and became abusive. (Not once did billy lay a hand on any of the women -whilst in control- tho, so he's breaking the cycle). Like he's scared to turn into his dad

We believe he's very obviously straight because of his womanizer tendencies and some other things, but also, that he's most likely on the verge of toxic masculinity (but not quite there) if you were to suggest him to be gay.

He'd probably suddenly get defensive or smth 🤷

Eddie

Okay so Eddie literally spends most of the season with his obsession with Chrissy. The hanky in his pocket was a metal thing. BUT I FEEL LIKE THIS MAN IS JUST COMFORTABLE ENOUGH IN HIS SEXUALITY TO MAKE GAY JOKES.

I feel like he'd experiment just to see what it was like. Maybe pan. That, or my boy is just a straight man with no fucks given.

Probably would be the type to have a gf but giggle and play along if someone asked if him and his friend were a gay couple.

Steve

Bro isn't straight or gay, he's just mom. He's a milf.

All jokes aside, I feel like Steve favors the female gaze- the show and his consistent oggling of women makes me think this, but also would be more comfortable in his sexuality if he was in close friend group.

Would be super like "nah bro" if he didn't know you well enough, but the second he does he'd probably go "i mean, I'd kiss a dude just to try it."

Regardless he's still mommy.

Nancy

Poor girl has dealt with so many shitty men, I literally would not be surprised if she just- switched sides.

Definitely started out as straight, but girlie got to experience men on an extreme and probably is just fed up at this point. We both agreed that she likely would at least be bi with a preference to women.

Robin

Boobies.

[shopcat]

i was talking about this a bunch the other day and i forgot til now but like. so much of the problem w biphobia in this fanbase is rooted in that if steve (and at least partially in the context of steddie) will never have autonomy over his own sexuality bc people genuinely can't fathom him being ACTUALLY attracted to men so they have divorce this bisexual version of him entirely from his canon self, and if the idea of steve being bisexual will Always be considered as and therefore treated as "fanon" and ENTIRELY different from the source material because people for the life of them, subconsciously or not, do not think this is ACTUALLY possible in any way it is . literally just biphobia and homophobia 😭

like i would love it if people stopped considering gayness in general as something not grounded in reality especially when bizarrely it is... other lgbt+ people perpetuating this 😭? and like yeah i know a good chunk of it probably comes from "this obviously isn't ever going to happen in the show (bc of homophobia) he would never be actually anything but straight (bc of heteronormativity)" and it's like a kind of frustration with the state of representation and i get it but that's not what ur actually SAYING. ur just saying that he can't be gay. and repeating again and again and again in different ways that gayness is not natural or realistic or normal or even common which is a dogshit thing to say let alone repeat. like i am so fucking sick of seeing "realistic" "unpopular" opinions and it's always just "[character] is straight 💀" like what an unbelievably stupid and cruel thing to reflect onto your own community 😭 also it's just fucking loser behaviour like as if indulging in lgbt+ headcanons has ever killed anyone ..

and this entire thing is also why i think steve's quote unquote fanon self's interpretation IS so different from his canon one to some people bc people just go absolutely crazy with it. imo if you genuinely can't look at this character and actually... LIKE his characterisation and canonical self there is a problem there alone but if you Literally consider BEING GAY as the only part of him that is something that's like unrealistic or delusional in some way i think u need to do some like self reflection or something. let alone when people actually celebrate such a harsh line in the sand between "fanon" and canon in this way that ends up just being reductive and stupid and literally plain homophobic. like there should be 0 opportunity for someone to even say something like "oh it's so funny looking at canon steve and being like Wow he's so different" because he fucking shouldn't be 😭 why are you treating gayness however unintentionally like it's impossible to conceive as if that isn't what happens to us every day in real life. him being bisexual or gay isn't unrealistic literally at all because and this is crazy . people can be gay. it was not made up for shit fanfiction or tumblr posts -_-

[musical-theatre-encyclopedia]

❤💛💚💙💜😍😘😻💖💕Valentine's Day Playlist😽💝🌹😙💋💌💓💞💘😚

1. "Young Love" - Eli Lieb

2. "The First Time" - Matt Fishel

3. "Radio-Friendly Pop Song" - Matt Fishel

4. "When Boy Meets Boy" - Matt Fishel

5. "Unchained Melody" - Vito and the Salutations

6. "Finally" - Matt Fishel

7. "Poisoning Pigeons in the Park" - Tom Lehrer

8. "Spring Cleaning" - Chris Miller and Nathan Tysen

9. "Zeppelin" - Eli Lieb

10. "If You Hadn't, but You Did" - Kristen Chenoweth

11. "Growing Old on Bleeker Street" - AJR

12. "Buy You a Rose" - AJR

13. "Call Me Maybe & Hello, Goodbye" - AJR

14. "Love Again" - Pentatonix

15. "I Need Your Love" - Pentatonix

16. "Cruisin' for a Bruisin'" - Pentatonix

17. "Bang Bang" - Kurt Hugo Schneider

18. "You and Me" - Adam Wachter

19. "Halfway" - Ryan Scott Oliver

20. "Testament" - Matt Fishel

21. "Invisible Thread" - Matt Gould and Griffin Matthews

22. "Stay" - Steve Grand

23. "I'll Rust with You" - Steam Powered Giraffe

24. "Honeybee" - Steam Powered Giraffe

25. "A Way into Your Heart" - Steam Powered Giraffe

26. "Mecto Amore" - Steam Powered Giraffe

27. "Me and My Baby" - Steam Powered Giraffe

28. "Two Strangers" - Kait Kerrigan and Bree Lowdermilk

29. "Swing Lover" - Indigo Swing

30. "Junkman" - Debbie Shapiro

31. "Therapy" - tick, tick, BOOM

32. "Rocket 95" - Alien Fashion Show

33. "Repent" - On the Twentieth Century

34. "Blue Moon" - The Marcels

35. "Mooning" - Grease

36. "True Love at the Star-Lite Tonight" - Five Course Love

37. "Your Man" - Home Free

38. "Rhythm of Love" - Plain White T's

39. "So What" - P!nk

40. "Bei Mir Bist Du Schön" - GQ

41. "Forget About the Boy" - Thoroughly Modern Millie

42. "Hello Mary Lou" - Red Feet

43. "I Don't Have a Name for It" - Steam Powered Giraffe

44. "Shut Up and Dance" - Walk the Moon

45. "Come Softly to Me" - The Fleetwoods

46. "Marvin Gaye" - Charlie Puth

47. "The Black Dress" - John Jacob Niles

48. "Blue Suit Boogie" - Indigo Swing

49. "Vanilla Ice Cream" - She Loves Me

50. "Lollipop" - The Chordettes

51. "Mr Sandman" - The Chordettes

52. "Stars and the Moon" - Songs for a New World

53. "Heard it Through the Grapevine" - Musical Island Boys

54. "That's My Man" - Miss Benny

55. "Beyond the Sea" - Bobby Darin

56. "Sh-Boom" - The Crew Cuts

57. "Shangri-La/Rags to Riches" - Forever Plaid

58. "Cry" - Forever Plaid

59. "Alone at a Drive-In Movie" - Grease

60. "Those Magic Changes" - Grease

61. "Not a Day Goes By" - Merrily We Roll Along

62. "Boys Who Like Boys" - Eli Lieb

63. "Never Apart" - BENNY (Miss Benny now)

64. "Rice and Beans" - Cazwell

65. "Do You Love an Apple?" - The Dregs

66. "100 Easy Ways to Lose a Man" - Kristen Chenoweth

67. "Always a Bridesmaid" - I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change

68. "Happy Together" - Lemon Squeezy

69. "Maria" - West Side Story

70. "Fifty Percent" - Ballroom

71. "I've Got Love" - Purlie

[mieczyhale]

highkey *both* steve & bucky are gay, with plenty of Thoughts and Reasons: steve kisses women in every movie (tho bucky's sposed to be the ladie's man (to hide his gayness a la arnie)) but notice how every single one of steve's kisses/non-platonic interactions w women are not initiated by steve and/or he shows little/negative interest/reciprocation as if he feels obligated. yh u can blame the actor's non-chemistry and say that the writing's intent is diff but... steve is a gay man w comphet 🌈🧍

I get your reasoning, those are some good reasons to think he doesnt like women Like That, but I myself don't see it that way. Just because he hasnt been interested in the women he's been around doesn't mean he isn't interested in women in general. He could be bi with a preference for guys (named Bucky). Idk. I just work here.

But bi characters don't have to show, on-screen, their attraction to whatever variety amount you find to be "enough proof" before you'll stop insisting its a case of comphet. Not everything is comphet. Sometimes people, including characters, are just bi.

You are free to call him gay all you want, but that doesn't make it canon. It's not like Arnie Roth or the Bucky based on him, the one we all know and love - that has source material. It has backing from people involved. Steve?? Doesn't have that.

So to me Steve is bi and Bucky is gay, they respect that (as well as everything else) about each other, they're in love and married, and they have kids - as well as a minimum of one (1) cat and three (3) goats - and that's that on that in this house.

[onyxisnotuniqueenough]

RANT ABOUT SHIPPING

before we start, i'd like to say that this isn't about situations like sherlock and watson, or byler, those are usually very much good and great and canon to me.

I'd also like to make it clear : idc about your headcanons. this is not about seeing max as bisexual or bucky as gay or smt. this is about shipping only.

i'm okay with shipping, and ofc more power to the alphabet mafia if its gay shipping, but if there is a healthy friendship ANYWHERE you guys interpret every friendly gesture as flirty.

HEY??? CAN WE JUST BE GLAD THAT THESE TWO MEN LOVE EACH OTHER UNCONDITIONALLY WITH NO ROMANTIC INTENTIONS??

like HELLO let them be the siblings that they never had they need a family

the examples I'm most mad about are matt and foggy, elmax, and stucky (this is wrong with friendship between genders supposed to be attracted to each other too, but usually producers and writers are scared of keeping them platonic and does all the shipping for you. i have never seen a man and woman, or a gay and a straight being friends with no crush implied, no weird unneccessary tension or jealousy)

EXAMPLE 1 : ELMAX

el needed a friend that would understand what she's going through and have a little normal in her life. She's only seen around men, like Hopper, Mike, Papa, etc. and finally she gets to hang out with someone willing to guide her through romantic relationships and such, and without using her for her powers like Kali did. (f-ck Kali)

And max, as we all know since season 2, is not the type of person to be comfortable around girly things (when her mom is getting ready for the snow ball, her interest and skill with video games, even her style of clothing in s2. Even if its completely normal today thankfully, girls with male-dominated interests or 'hot-headed' personalities were considered tomboys in the 80s). Or at least, she's not comfortable showing her interest in girly things because with her temperament, maybe she's self-conscious about not standing out and seeming 'strong'.

So when Max gets a chance to guide El through important milestones of female friendship, like sleepovers, shopping, etc, she takes it, because she knows that she's in a situation where there's no chance of being judged, not like the rest of the party (she says something's romantic and the boys are very quick to say how annoying and disgusting it is, well...Will is a special case but still)

and yes, in s4, we clearly see that their time with each other are amongst their happiest memories, but why does that mean that they should date??????? it's clearly a healthy sister dynamic and it's kind of a shame that we transform it into romantic love.

ROMANTIC LOVE DOESNT HOLD MORE VALUE THAN PLATONIC LOVE!!

EXAMPLE 2 : AVOCADOS AT LAW

Matt and Foggy are very similar in that sense. Matt has never really known true friendship and doesn't have much of a family, like El, and his friendship with Foggy is a chance for him to feel normal. Wether its about the fact that Foggy has never underestimated him, or been uncomfortable around his blindness, or the fact that they were close enough for Matt to feel like Foggy's family also welcomed him in. If anything, in s1ep10, when they cry, it's only a powerful scene because we know how important to each other they are and, frankly, its very refreshing to see two straight men cry about their love and friendship without a "no homo" atmosphere. Gayness has been the butt of the joke so many times, and emotion portrayed through men is always interpreted as weakness or gayness. Do we really have to perpetuate that??

EXAMPLE 3 : STUCKY

(this one is a little dissapointing. y'all saw a great bucky ship with chemistry with SAM and decided to walk on the brotherly friendship with no chemistry or banter whatsoever? AND NO, SAYING "YOU'RE TAKING ALL THE STUPID WITH YOU" IS AN INSIDE JOKE, NOT ROMANTIC BANTER PEOPLE)

Steve and bucky is a situation when they've known each other for so long, and they love each other so much that they're willing to die for each other.

Pre-Serum Steve has spent his life being bullied and judged, and you guys wanna turn the only person that he feels safe around into a romantic relationship??? agreed, steve's relationship with peggy is very stale and cliché, especially with the endgame thing, but COME ON.

if you wanna ship bucky with someone : SAM IS RIGHT THERE. THE BANTER IS THERE. HELLO? TFATWS AND THE ROLLING IN THE FIELD THING??

anyway rant is over you may continue your activities now

[pulsdmedia]

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Discover simple camera techniques to create stunning videos on iPhone. Experiment with depth and focus in Cinematic mode and learn how to add composition, angles, and movement to your recordings. Then you'll head out to different locations and collaborate to capture your best shots!

$29 Wellness Fridays: Booze, Beauty Treatments, Yoga, & More

Looking for an escape from the summer heat? Rejuvenate at Grayson Hotel’s Midtown Meltdown series, a limited-time lobby experience curated to provide you with a satisfying summer sanctuary. You'll get access to a 2 Hour Open Beer & Non-Alcoholic Wellness Drinks Bar, Free Samples from participating brands, the opportunity to try Beauty Treatments or a Calming Yoga Stretch Sessions, plus more surprises in store! There's more where that came from! Heyday Skincare will provide 10-minute microcurrent treatments, while Heatwise Yoga will guide you through a calming stretch session. Shop the Frank & Oak pop-up so you can can grab a complimentary tote bag to hold all of your new goodies, and sip on delish libations to cool you off even more...

All-Star Jazz Party

Bill Charlap, John Pizzarelli, Renee Rosnes, Steve Wilson, Ken Peplowski, Jeremy Pelt, Nicole Glover, David Wong, and Dennis Mackrel will be playing for you! Each artist a star – each, one of the definitive performers on their instrument – together, a constellation. Join 92NY for the brilliance, chemistry, and a night of music that will only happen once and only happen there.

$19 VIP 2 Hour Open Bar Tix: Open Bar Disco Fever Fridays Party

Experience the revival of Studio 54 at Copacabana's exclusive and alluring Disco Fever Fridays Party! Prepare to groove and dress in your finest disco-era attire, as Copacabana, known for its innovative experiences, transforms its space into a dreamy discotheque. Since the 1940s, this spot has been frequented by celebrities like Diana, Princess of Wales, Marilyn Monroe, Rita Hayworth, Brigitte Bardot, Madonna, Elton John, and Marvin Gaye! So, let loose and get ready for an extraordinary night of drinks, dancing, divas, and dazzling company at Copacabana's Disco Fever Fridays - a true throwback to the golden era of Studio 54!

Champe-Soukous Collective Performance

The Champe-Soukous Collective is an All-Star ensemble that bridges the Trans-Atlantic connection between Colombian champeta and it’s source music of Central African/Congolese soukous-rumba. With members from Central Africa and Colombia, the force of this un-paralleled Champe-Soukous Collective will be an Afro-Colombian dance party not to be missed!

[gingerradiohour]

Ginger Radio Hour #032

Show Notes January 17, 2023

Listen to archived episode.

Theme: Shape and texture.

A few years ago, Steve Gonzalez and Scott Ketchum moved Sfoglini Pasta from Brooklyn to Coxsackie, NY. The founders have a passion for pasta made in a traditional way and with organic ingredients. The conversation focuses on pasta-making, shape, texture, and what it takes to build a company in the Hudson Valley. Plus, a favorite pasta recipe.

Pasta pronunciation assistance from Valentina Stella.

Playlist:

Federico Fellini’s Juliet of the Spirits. Composed by Nino Rota “Golden Rose - The Circus Ballerina” Album: Original Soundtrack Recording 1965

The B-52′s “Deep Sleep” Album: Mesopotamia 1982

Parliament “All Your Goodies Are Gone” Album: Gold 2005

Tom Waits “Temptation” Album: Frank’s Wild Years 1987

Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell “You’re All I Need To Get By” Album: You’re All I Need 1968

Makaya McCraven “Dream Another” Album: In These Times 2022

Gil Scott-Heron & Makaya McCraven “This Can’t Be Real” Album: We’re New Again 2020

Sam Gendel & Sam Wilkes “Kiefer No Melody” Album: Music for Saxofone & Bass Guitar 2018

Harry Nilsson “Gotta Get Up” Album: Nilsson Schmilsson 1971

Interpol “NYC” Album: Turn On The Bright Lights 2002

PJ Harvey “The Last Living Rose (Demo)” Album: Let England Shake - Demos 2022

Destroyer “The Last Song” Album: Labyrinthitis 2022

[cubicle-eyes]

Not Proofread , but did just wake up and was gayness. Gayness isn't a choice, it's a lifestyle.

I.. think I pulled my arm writing this??? I write on Notes on my phone but it only hurt after I was halfway through?? Jeez louise. Pulled a muscle writing fanfiction. Doesn't that sound wrong.

steve harrington fluffy boi

--------

- Steve lives for kissing you. Anywhere. Your lips, forehead, scalp, nose, neck, shoulders- He was in a hurry one time and just kissed your eyebrow and left!

- He adores sleeping with you. You're warm. And soft. And he LOVES it! He likes to completely tangle himself with you, so if you're sleeping expect him to shift his legs alot to get more comfortable.

- You get to have one rent-free tape at Family Video at most once a week. Don't tell. He would so get fired, and he's on thin ice. Dating in the Scoops Ahoy era? Free Icecream. Wherever he works you better believe you're getting something free from there.

- He a little slow sometimes so if you're being too cryptic for him he gets frustrated. Just kiss his nose and start again, but don't slow your talking or put any more emphasis on the words, like he's deaf. He can understand the words just fine, it's the situation and backstory bits he needs!

- Very touch. Much touch. Give touch. He holds you by your waist a lot and likes to be holding something most of the time. He's honestly touch starved and in denial about it.

- Lives for praise and compliments. Feed his ego a little! Tell him how much you love him! Tell him you're proud of him! Tell him he did a good job! He likes it a lot and his happy to reciprocate it as often as he can.

- Very cuddly. Again, he likes to be touching you, and cuddling is no exception. Sometimes he just stands there hugging you. When he sees someone he loves, he usually goes for the neck and they are forced to upper torso. He just does it accidentally.

- Lives for you to just sit on his lap. Whether you're watching a movie, playing video games, or anything else, use your personal couch cushion. He also likes when you stradle him and play with his hair and kiss all over his face.

- He's definetly not too much of a PDA guy. He... it's still kinda embedded into his brain that same-sex couples aren't really.. allowed in public from his high school days of putting up a front. He definetly pecks your cheek a lot in public, if you're somewhere away from prying eyes. He will still end up walking, standing, and sitting very close to you as the pair of you do things in public.

- The kids have a dad now! With Steve as their mom, it's only perfect that now he's no longer living the single-mother lifestyle! The kiddos adore you, and are maybe more confortablewith you then him. Max, noteably, REALLY likes you. Hang out with her some. She needs a little guidance sometimes, still.

- Robin likes to tease you. A lot. A lot, a lot. Like a lo- She just thinks you two are adorable, and to her you two are the second-best-secret-couple in Hawkins! (First being her and Vicki, of course )

- He likes to take long drives with you to anywhere. For a few hours, a day, a week, even a month if you want to travel. It's a great time to bond and just hang out. He definetly ones to take all of the kids ib the show on one huge trip with you that isn't just to save the world.

- Speaking of kids.

- Man WANTS some. He would love to foster kids of all ages in the future, and hopes you're okay with at least three children in the house at almost all times. He loves kids a lot, obviously, and since you both can't physically have them, he just wants to hold kids who really need a place to stay.

- If you're sad, he wants ti cheer you up! He's not very good at it, but sometimes he accidentally cheers you up when he tries his best to di something and it isn't working very well. Watching him try just makes you love him more!

- When he's sad, he's distant.He doesn't always do it on purpose, and sometimes its not really obvious. A little space between you, less love shared, and he tends to brush things off a lot when he's upest. Just let him work through them, and it'll go quicker than an intervention. If he does something that hurts you, or is unacceptable, tell him. He may be sad but it isn't an excuse to do things. He may be a little bitter about it at first, but he'll apoligize.

- If he accidentally makes you cry, which he has done, you better believe he is crying too. Mostly from stress and guilt, and believe it or not he cries really easily when others start crying. He feels fucking horrible. He ends up leaving you alobe until you let him in, and then he's just awkwardly apologizing. He doesn't know how to fix it, sometimes, and feels like a screw-up.

- Honestly he's a straight-forward lover, and is very loyal. He would never do anything to purposefully hurt you. 9/10, would reccomend.

[themultiimagines]

You’re the only thing keeping me center

A/N: Hi! I hope you enjoy this. It’s probably the longest piece I’ve ever published on this blog so I hope I did...okay?? Please let me know what you guys think I would really appreciate it. Anyway I’ll leave you to the gayness

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (18+ MDNI), jealousy (healthy ofc), thigh riding, cursing (let me know if I missed anything)

Words: 2.7K, the first part with italics is a flashback

You’ve never had a bond with anyone quite as strong as the one you have with Wanda. When you joined the avengers, Tony even warned you about the witch, which now thinking about that makes you quite angry. Wanda has only ever been kind and gentle with you. 

It started with sparring. Steve put you two as partners and it just grew from there. 

You grunt as your back hits the mat once again, the redhead giving you that confident smile that always gives you butterflies. 

“Damn you’re getting better than that,” you huff in defeat and she giggles. 

“Only ‘cause you helped me out,” she replied. You noticed she was still holding your hand, about to pull you up. She looks down and pulls back instantly, her cheeks reddening. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled. You shook your head, giving her a warm grin. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind.” 

Standing up, you also notice your bodies were very close as silence fell upon you two. You stared in her emerald eyes for what seemed like centuries until she broke eye contact. 

“I have to go,” she breathed.

Incidents like that started to happen more frequently. You two even started getting noticed by the public, like when you two would go get coffee before a mission or even just out with the Avengers and you two would sit with each other which made the paparazzi go wild. The sudden attention drove a little wedge between you two for a bit. She started to become distant, asking if you two could just stay inside. Sometimes she was gone on a mission she didn’t even tell you about, leaving you alone at the compound. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, Where is Wanda?” You ask to the empty room, frowning at no trace of the witch. 

“Wanda Maximoff is on a mission with Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff, Ms. (Y/L/N), but will be back later tonight. Would you like me to contact the quinjet and inform them of an emergency?” The A.I responded and you groaned. 

“No, it's fine.” 

“Very well, Ms (Y/L/N). Mr. Stark has told me to inform you there will be another charity party tonight, make sure you are well dressed and ready to be interviewed. The rest of the team should be back from their mission for this party.” Your frown only deepened, feeling a dull pang in your heart. Wanda was still trying to push herself away from you but why? It’s not like you two were actually hooking up or anything. Maybe she was afraid, you could understand why, handling a public relationship while being an avenger sounds very difficult and dangerous for both parties. You didn’t like this new feeling though. Something bothered you about this situation and frankly you needed a drink so maybe this party isn’t the worst thing ever?

--

It’s the worst thing ever. Judging by how many people showed up you could safely assume Tony updated the maximum capacity by the fire marshall, because you know this is more than dangerous to have this many people in one room. Not being the most famous Avenger however, has its perks. As you watched your coworkers get swamped by the millions of reporters, you sat at the bar, letting your drink go slowly in circles as you gently moved the glass. The occasional interviewer would giddily come up to you, asking you simple, tip of the iceberg questions and then jot it down on their notebook and run off to their next victim. You weren’t really focused on the reporters though, the only thing on your mind was Wanda.

Even though you were drinking because of her, you couldn’t stop yourself from worrying when she might arrive. Nobody has said anything about the mission so it must have gone well right? As you spiral into your thoughts you don’t notice Steve’s partner in crime, Bucky, sit himself next to you on a stool. 

“How are you holding up?” You jump at his deeper voice, your brain half expecting to hear that familiar sokovian accent. You raise your eyebrows and swivel your body towards him. 

“Oh hey,” you muttered, trying to give him your best smile. He frowns, not pleased with your answer. 

“Alright kiddo, what’s up?” Oh no, uncle Bucky mode kicking in. You groan, trying to suppress your laughter as you place your forehead on the countertop. He rolls his eyes and laughs. “Oh come on, I’m just trying to help!”

“Yeah okay dad,” you joke back, looking up at him and smiling. He takes his metal arm and puts his hand on your shoulder. 

“Kid, I know when someone is having a bad day. Trust me, I’ve had quite a few,” you chuckle at him, closing your eyes and listening to him. “As one friend to another, I just want to know if you’re okay.” That actually made you smile. You knew Bucky always had good intentions for the team, he wanted everyone to trust him and it worked pretty well, which makes sense since you two got along. 

“I just...I don’t know, I think I have a crush on this person…” He raises his eyebrows curiously and you laugh. “Yeah no, I’m not telling you who it is.” He gasps sarcastically and clenches his chest in faux pain. 

“You wound me, (Y/N)!” You both laugh before you continue.

“I don’t know if they like me either and I feel like lately they’ve been pushing themselves away from me and I just want to know how to fix it.” You place your face in your hands, feeling the weight of your words as they hang in the air for Bucky to absorb. 

You hear him sigh and adjust in his seat a little. “Can I be real with you (Y/N)?” You look up at him, your eyebrows knitted together but you nod. 

“I remember being so scared to tell Steve how I felt about him.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m serious! The one thing that stopped me from ever telling him was the fear I would ruin our friendship forever.” His words must’ve struck something in your brain because all of the sudden it felt like Bucky was reading you like a book. 

“I feared that so much that I pushed myself away from him. It killed me to do it but I thought that maybe if I did, those feelings I had would go away and neither of us would get our hearts broken.” You gulped. Could it be possible Wanda was in the same situation?

“All I’m saying is don’t run from things that make you scared because that’s what life is about. Taking those scary risks. What’s even better is that rewarding feeling you get when you get a good outcome.” You looked at him for a moment before you embraced him in a big hug. He let out a soft “oof” before wrapping his arms around you. 

“Thank you,” you whisper before pulling away. He chuckles, patting your shoulder. 

“It’s no problem. Seriously, if you need anything I’m here.”

--

After Bucky’s dad talk, you decided to actually mingle. It was weird at first but it got smoother as the night went on and soon enough you felt comfortable talking in the big groups scattered around the room. You even forgot about the mission Wanda was on as you talked to random people about your amazing heroic missions. What you didn’t realize was Wanda, Steve, and Natasha were already home getting ready. You also didn’t notice her walk in with a gorgeous deep red dress that fit her curves in all the right ways. 

You were sitting in one of the booths, two gentlemen sitting across the table and one woman sitting right next to you. You didn’t know if it was the drinking from earlier or what but you definitely didn’t pay attention to the obvious flirting the woman was trying to do. You told the story about how you swear you saw Steve lift up Mjolnir when the two gentlemen excuse themselves. The woman sitting by you scoots around the table, sitting where the men just were and puts her elbows on the table, using her hands to keep her head up.

“So (Y/N), I know you’re a busy gal and all, you know with the whole avengers thing, but I was thinking maybe...we could get some dinner sometime?” You blush at her answer, face becoming red. 

“Uh...didn’t we just meet?”

“Yeah silly, but that’s what dates are for. To get to know each other.” Her hand sneakily made its way across the table and reached out to yours. You let her take it, feeling extremely uncomfortable however. Across the room, a certain red head was glaring daggers at this mysterious woman. 

“Watch it Wands before you explode,” Steve’s voice snapped Wanda from her trance. “Who is that girl with (Y/N)?”

“I don’t know,” Wanda grumbled, making Steve sigh. 

“Are you ever gonna tell her you like her?” Wanda’s eyes widened, turning to the blond and gently slapping his forearm. 

“Shut up! You want everyone on the planet to know as well?!” She huffed which caused Steve to raise his hands up in surrender. 

“Hey, I’m just the messenger.” She sighs, rubbing her temples. She looks back over at you and definitely doesn’t like what she sees. The same woman was now trying to play footsie with you whilst gently rubbing the tips of her fingers back and forth up your arm. Something in her must’ve snapped because on auto pilot, Wanda was up on her feet moving towards your table.

“Or maybe…” The woman trailed off, trying to be seductive. “We could just go to my place right now?”

Before you have time to answer your cut off by a thick accent. “I’m sorry, (Y/N) actually has plans tonight.” You look at Wanda like she is a divine being, her elegance distracting you from what was currently happening. 

“I do? Wait, yes! I do!” You lied, quickly standing up. You give the stranger a weak smile before you are yanked off by the Sokovian. Her grip on your wrist was tight and you winced a little. 

“Wanda, what the hell?” She didn’t answer, pulling you to the elevator before pushing the button that took you to your floor. 

“Okay Wanda, seriously wha-” You were cut off by a soft pair of lips and delicate hands cupping the sides of your face. You sigh into the kiss like it's the first breath of oxygen you’ve ever had. Your arms instinctively wrap around her torso, bringing her impossibly close. The kiss was passionate but slow, all the love you two had for each other pouring out into this one moment that would change your lives forever. 

The elevator let out a high pitched ping, signaling you two you were on your designated floor. Wanda pulls back to catch her breath and her eyes are dilated, making your heart race. 

“I can’t keep pretending anymore,” she whispers before dragging you out into the hallway. You press her up against the wall, earning a small gasp followed by a whimper. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol in your system or if you just felt brave but something told you to indulge her. You trailed your wet kisses down her neck, smirking as you felt her heartbeat noticeably get quicker as you sucked on her pulse point. 

“Good,” you whisper, “because I’m definitely not stopping now.” With that you pulled her into your room, locking the door and guiding her towards your bed. She cups your face once again, deepening your feverish kiss. You gripped her hips as you felt the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. She pulls away, panting heavily. 

“Are you sure?” You whisper quickly, anxiety getting the best of you. The witch’s face softens as she uses her hands on your shoulders to gently push you down onto the bed. She straddles you before leaning down and capturing your lips. This kiss was much softer, not rushed. You could take your sweet time with this kiss because you knew you had all might. 

“I’m very, very sure, (Y/N). When I saw that woman flirt with you every cell in my body screamed to stop it. You are my anchor, whether it scares me or not. I know I pushed myself away from you but I was so scared to hurt you. I was also scared of my own feelings. I’ve never been more sure in my life.” Wanda’s words sent warmth throughout your body and you couldn’t help but tear up. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head. 

“No no, don’t cry!” You laugh before shaking your head as well. 

“Don’t worry, it’s happy tears,” you admit, turning the red heads frown into a smile. This time you kiss her, your hands skillfully working their way up Wanda’s back, underneath her shirt, to unhook her bra. Her hips grind down a little at your bold move and you groan. 

“Please tell me this is real,” you mumble against her lips and she chuckles before leaning over to your ear. 

“It’s very real, detka, and I promise you won’t forget it either,” she husks. A shiver runs down your spine at the Sokovian pet name, her accent laced heavily through the word. Without another word she leans back and takes off her shirt, exposing her breasts to the cold air. 

You swallowed, feeling yourself get wetter at the holy sight in front of you. She giggles as you ogle at her chest, pushing strands of her hair back so you could get a full view. Instinctively licking your lips, you look up at her for permission. She nods, her emerald eyes darkening when you finally reach out. You palm her breast, her head throwing back as she lets out a sigh of relief. 

“Yes…” she whimpers. Her whimper was like angels singing, it was heavenly to your ears and you so desperately wanted to pull even more sounds from her. Wanda was like a drug and you definitely aren’t ready to start rehab anytime soon. You take another nipple into your mouth, looking up at her as she rolls her eyes back. You take the now very hardened duct, using your tongue to trace circles around the nub. You let the breast go with a small pop and a small strand of spit stretched and broke off from your lips. She looks down, her hands running through your hair and gently tugging at it. You groan, your hips bucking up causing Wanda’s center to rub down harshly on your thigh. You could feel her dampness through her underwear and you shuddered thinking of how wet she was. 

“Please,” you whisper, letting go of her breast and replacing it with your eager mouth. She started moving her hips slowly, the grip in your hair only getting tighter. “Let me make you feel good,” you beg. She growled, taking your lips again with urgency that wasn’t there before. Her hunger for you was something she has never felt before and it only made her wetter. Your hands shakily gripped her hips, pushing up into the kiss as she grinded faster, her rhythm now becoming erratic as she drove herself closer and closer to her release. 

“(Y/N), I’m close,” she panted against your lips and you nodded fervently. You attacked her neck, placing dark purple bruises that anyone with working eyes could see. She moaned again as her body started shaking. She started to move at a dangerously fast speed as you watched in awe of the beautiful scene in front of you. Wanda Maximoff was getting off on your thigh. If someone told you that earlier today, you would’ve laughed so hard you cried. But here you were, with the girl of your dreams, about to cum because of you. You could feel your own wetness pooling as you heard Wanda start chanting your name. 

“Gonna cum, gonna...oh fuck!” She screamed, pushing her face into the crook of your neck to quiet herself. You wrapped her arms around her protectively, letting her ride out her orgasm, bucking your hips occasionally. After a couple of minutes you heard her breathing start to settle and you sighed, taking in her scent. 

She eventually pulled away but her face had to have been only centimeters away when she whispers something darkly. 

“Your turn.”

[luna-rainbow]

So I finally caught the full episode of What if. I mean...I didn't dislike it, but I didn't particularly care for it either. I think the problem is that the 3 central characters were still Steve, Peggy and Bucky, except with the plot and lines reshuffled...so the whole thing felt kinda superfluous. It didn't really add anything to any of their narratives, put itself in the awkward position of affirming the gayness of CATFA while trying to brandy the heteronormative narrative, and really didn't break any new ground.

You know what would have been nice? Make the serum receiver Isaiah. But I guess that requires too much thinking on the part of the scriptwriter.

The exchange that really bothered me was this one though:

Steve: I gotta ask, how does it feel? Peggy: To get the serum? Honest truth, not as different as you might think. Steve: Wow, you’ve always been a fighter. In a way, the outside finally matches the inside.

Okay, wait, hold up.

She's flaunting her able-bodied privilege in front of a man plagued by chronic illness and disability with, “Not as different as you might think.”

Let's remind ourselves of what Steve has to live with:

There’s a different list showing also colour-blindness, diabetes and anaemia.

You know what getting the serum means? He doesn't have to get short of breath walking up a flight of stairs, he doesn't have to get palpitations after a short sprint, he doesn't have to get sick every time the weather changes, he can hear people sneaking up on him, he can see the world in colour, he doesn't have to spend most of his income buying insulin (which was only invented in the 1920s so who knows how much they cost) and medications. He can finally do the stuff that able-bodied people, like Peggy, take for granted.

Peggy says it's not as different as he thinks, because she has no idea what he's living with.

And guess what, in true MCU ableist style, they then have Steve reply, "You've always been a fighter."

No Steve, the true fighter is you. Everyday was a fight for you. Sometimes in the midst of an asthma attack or an exacerbation of your rheumatic heart disease every breath and every heartbeat. Every winter when you come down with colds and sinusitis. Every time you get knocked back because of your deafness or colour-blindness or your small stature. Every time you're struggling to put a penny together because you've used it up for your medications. Every time the doctor shakes their head and wishes you luck.

Steve fought through all of it. In one timeline, he got the serum, and the outside finally matching the inside was you, Steve. Not some woman who has no appreciation of what she already has.

Good job MCU showing your ableist colours again.

(PS: I did not spot any pics of Sam in the opening sequence. Are they serious?? They've left out the next Captain America, one of the characters who will be expected to carry a franchise in their phase 4? What are they smoking??)

[aftqrglow]

A Blessing, Beautiful And True

pairing: bucky x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: use of she/her pronouns; swearing if you squint; mentions of death; mentions of food

a/n: this is a rewrite of one of my old fics that i absolutely hated with my entire being. i hate this a little bit less djaksjsjs also pls ignore how i literally cannot write a good ending to save my life.

dedicated to @xsamsharons for lending me her name. i hope i did it justice mi amor ily <3

Bucky learnt to value things.

Not the great, terribly material things people around him seemed to rush after. Not money, not even when he was barely getting by.

No, for Bucky, it was the small, seemingly insignificant things.

The tiny toy WWII soldier figurine he found at a yard sale one Tuesday afternoon, the one with the missing arm. The near-exact model of the car his father used to drive—rusted around the tiny steel axel, the rubber wheels worn from use. That yellow screwdriver set that sat at the very back of the tool cabinet in the garage, unusable because of the cracked plastic handles and rusted steel, that looked exactly like the kit he had once used to fix up the plumbing in his first apartment.

Bucky was used to valuing the broken little things.

He never truly understood what loving something whole, something complete felt like—not until he met you.

You, in your white sweater and blue jeans, hair tossed up in a braid. You, your eyes that dancing with unbroken light, like the rays of the sun on the ocean on a bright summer���s day. You, with the sort of kindness he never truly thought he would ever be worthy of, not until you showed him that he was.

You, the girl he fell in love with before he could ever truly know what love was.

Steve might’ve been the first to notice. He was with him that day, the day he first saw you. They had been hunting for a Christmas present for Tony, and even though Bucky wasn’t exactly thrilled to have to attend, he wasn’t about to show up empty handed.  

Steve didn’t even realize that the sly-footed assassin wasn’t by his side until he had walked the two blocks from the mall to his car. Hands ghosting over the gun tucked into the holster hooked into his waistband, Steve retraced his steps, his heart thundering in his throat.

Until he heard Bucky’s laugh.

Not the obviously fake chuckles he used to placate those around him. No, this was the laugh he remembered, the laugh he thought Bucky had lost.

This was Bucky’s laugh—his Bucky’s laugh, before the world stole him away. Pure and innocent.

Happy—so undeniably, inexplicably happy.

The tension eased from his shoulders when he saw you. Steve knew who you were, of course. Everyone did—or at least, everyone who had been around after the Battle of New York. Everyone who had seen you walk among the rubble, bleeding through your jeans, helping dig survivors out of the rubble, guiding them to shelters. Everyone who had seen you do everything you could help those who needed it more than you did, until your legs finally gave way and the only reason you didn’t collapse to the floor was because Steve caught you.

But Steve also happened to know why you’d done it. Because you were kind. Because you were selfless. Because you knew what it was like to lose everyone you loved, and to garner the strength to build yourself up anyway.

You’d lost people too—everyone you loved, killed during the Battle. Your family. Your friends. It might’ve seemed cruel to be spared. Might’ve seemed like a cold, dark twist of fate—and for a time, it did.

Steve had never known anyone to be resilient the way you were.

And maybe, just maybe, he thought to himself, as he watched his friend from through the glass, maybe you would teach him to hold on to the tiniest sliver of hope too.

—

Bucky didn’t even like books.

The only book he’d read—aside from the coursework assigned to him in his school days—was The Hobbit. And even that had taken him an ungodly amount of time to finish.

So yeah, Bucky didn’t exactly like books.

But he still visited the tiny bookstore on the corner every day.

He didn’t even buy anything. He just looked around, running his fingertips over the spines of the books that jutted out of the wooden shelves, the sunlight turning his eyes into uncharted waters of the oceans, swimming with undiscovered secrets and untold lies.

You would talk to him. All the time, and with no trace of the usual pity or sympathy that he heard when he spoke to people. You talked to him in a way that made him feel like himself, in a way that made him feel like he just might rediscover the man he used to be.

That first time he’d seen you was burned into the back of his brain, the image of you standing there with a hip braced against a bookshelf, dressed in a white sweater and jeans, your hair pulled into a braid over your shoulder. He had watched as a strand escaped, falling into your face.

And him—he'd stood there, watching you talk to another woman he couldn't recall because really, how could he look at anything else but you? Bucky was certain he looked like a gaping idiot, both wanting your attention to turn to him, and dreading the fact that he would surely make a fool of himself if you so much as looked at him.

Back in the 40s, things would've been so much easier. He would already have said something witty to make you laugh, he would already have been telling you about the carnival down at the beach and asking if you wanted to go with him.

But when your friend left, and you asked him if there was anything you could help him with, his voice sounded strange to his own ears as he croaked, "Books?"

You had laughed—and he found himself laughing along. A true laugh—for the first time in a long time, the sound didn’t sound fake to his own ears. For the first time in a long time, he felt like himself.

Bucky had taught himself to value that which wasn’t whole—because he wasn’t, either. Love was give and take. Love was equal.

If he was to deserve your love, he would have to be whole again. If he was to deserve your love, he would make himself whole again.

—

There was a sudden shift in the way Bucky viewed the world.

It had been three days since he last saw you, but he walked in through those doors anyway. He had no cause, no reason—he just couldn’t go any longer without seeing you.

You were sitting by the bay window at the very back, reading a book. He took a second just to take you in, to get used to the fact that you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

The second you looked up, your face split into a grin, like you were truly, genuinely happy to see him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had smiled at him that way. “Hey, you’re back! It’s Bucky, right?”

He nodded. He couldn't trust himself to speak, not when he was sure he would stumble over his words, not when he couldn't bring himself to string together a coherent sentence in your presence. 

"What can I help you with today?" you asked, snapping your book shut and placing it on the table. 

"Uh... What're you reading?"

You glanced down at your book before looking up to meet his eyes again. Blue, you thought, supressing a smile. Icy blue, but warm nonetheless—familiar in the way most things aren’t. "Wuthering Heights. You've never read it?"

He shook his head no. "Never been much of a reader, no. Is it any good?"

"It's one of my favourites," was your answer, watching as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The light caught the steel of the chain around his neck—the chain of one of those military-issue dog tags.

And maybe that was how it started—on that dreary cold Wednesday, when you'd stood next to the bookshelf by the window, telling him about your favourite book, but really all he could focus on was the late afternoon sun rendering the hue of your eyes several shades lighter, the soft slope of your nose, the fullness of your mouth. Every little detail about you was etched permanently into his mind—and he wanted to learn more.

He wanted to know everything there was to know about you. 

It was about closing time when he decided he had to go. Not because he wanted to, but because he had promised he would have dinner with Sam and Steve. And as much as Bucky wanted to stay, he was a man of his word.

Which is why when he promised you he would come see you as soon as he finished reading the book, you knew he meant it.

—

And you were right.

Two days later, he was back. 

It was raining that day, early in the morning when you were just about to open up. And there, standing under the awning in the freezing rain, was Bucky, the collar of his coat turned up against the wind, drenched to the bone.

"What're you doing here?" you asked, eyes wide.

"I just... I don't know," he said. Because he didn't. Bucky didn't even like books—but he did like being around you. There was a strange sort of calm about you, a sense of peace he'd only known in Wakanda. Around you, he was just Bucky—not Sargent Barnes, not the Winter Soldier—just Bucky. 

He liked being just Bucky.

You shook your head, but he could've sworn he saw the corner of your mouth tilt upwards as you fished your keys out of your pocket and unlocked the door. "Well, come on inside. I'll turn up the heat and get you something warm to drink. Christ, Buck, you could get pneumonia or something.”

He only nodded once. It didn't matter that he wouldn't get sick—not when the serum in his veins healed his body faster than normal. It didn’t matter that even if he could sick, he wouldn’t have cared, not when you were looking at him like that, with concern in your eyes for something other than your own safety.

You had a coffee machine in the back room, you told him. He followed you, lingering in the doorway as you bustled about, humming a tune under your breath. He recognized it as a song from that one Marvin Gaye album Sam couldn’t stop talking about. He recognized it as a song he wanted to listen to for the rest of his life, if only you were the one singing it.

He recognized that, for better or for worse, you would be his undoing.

—

After that, he came to see you every day.

When the weather got colder still, he brought you steaming cups of hot chocolate from your friend Bella’s café down the street. And on the days when he didn’t, he would head into the back room and make you coffee. You’d never had to tell him how you took it—after that in the rain, he’d somehow remembered what you liked.

You weren’t about to tell him, but you remembered what he liked too.

It started out simple—plum cider that you found on your weekly trip to the farmer’s market. An old vintage copy of The Hobbit from the forties. Rubber silencers for his dog tags that he never used but carried around in his pocket anyway—until eventually, you had something new for him every week, some insignificant thing that he looked at with the kind of childlike awe that made your heart twist into knots in your chest.

He walked you home too. Every evening, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, slowing his stride so that he could walk alongside you. He would stand outside, across the street, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to walk into the apartment you shared with Bella. Only leaving when the lights came on and he knew you were safe.

Bucky wasn’t much of a talker—you learnt that about him. He would spend all day sitting quietly in a corner of your store, reading one of the books he found on the shelf of used copies you kept in the back of the room.

He seemed to love those used books more than the new ones—books someone had already read, books that had already been loved.

He felt a little that way sometimes, too. A little too used for love, not loved enough for use.

But never when he was with you.

And you—you were falling for Bucky Barnes. A little by little, day by day, without even realizing it—not until it all came rushing to you one afternoon, like a dam breaking, like the ocean of his eyes pulling you under, especially when you felt his gaze on you from time to time, watching you as you worked.

That afternoon, a new shipment of books came in. You didn’t even have to ask him for help—he was already on his feet, snapping his copy of Anna Karenina shut, mumbling a soft, “I’ve got it,” as you signed for the order. Hefted the two cartons of books like they weighed nothing at all, and carried them inside.

There was a strange tightness in your stomach as you watched him, standing in the middle of your store—the only thing the Battle of New York hadn’t taken away from you—and you wondered just how it took so damn long to realize that the feeling of familiarity didn’t lie among these books, but rather, in Bucky himself.

—

It was a slow day, so the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon restocking the shelves. He asked you about each of the books, watching your eyes light up as you talked about your favourite ones, until conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence, the two of you basking in each other’s company as you worked.

You didn't even realize how much time had passed until you heard the door open and your friend Bella breezed in. She'd been here the first day Bucky had walked in, had noticed the way your eyes shifted to him mid-conversation like you couldn’t focus on much else when he was around. “Ready for lunch, y/n?”

You looked at Bucky, opening your mouth to ask if he wanted to come along. Not because you didn’t trust him to be alone at the store, but because you wanted his company. Because being around him felt like coming home.

He only waved you off. "Go ahead. I've got plans with Stevie. I'll be here when you're back though."

You believed him. You believed that he would always be around, for as long as you wanted. And you wanted forever.

"Was that the guy from before?" Bella asked, looping an arm through yours as you left the store, walking down the street. She brushed her fiery hair out of her eyes, turning her head slightly to look at you, yellow-green eyes filled with curiosity. “What’s his name?”

"Bucky. He... He's a friend," you said. 

"Well," Bella said. "He sure doesn't feel the same way."

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused.

"Y/n, he looks at you like you put the stars in his sky. Are you sure he's just a friend?"

"I... I don't know, Bella."

Because you didn't know what else to call him. Because you and him weren't friends in the way people usually are—you had always been more.

Bucky was always more.

—

"I've barely seen you," Steve said, picking up his can of Diet Pepsi and taking a sip. "Where have you been?"

"Around," Bucky mumbled. Because how could he explain why he was spending so much time at the bookstore with someone he'd only just met? How could he explain the magnetic pull he felt toward you, the inexplicable desire to just be around you?

How could he explain the way you made him feel like himself again?

But Steve knew. Steve always knew. He saw the growing stack of novels on his friend's bedside table, saw him reading at the kitchen table, book propped up against the jug of milk.

He also knew that all this was because of y/n. Because Bucky mumbled that name when he was too exhausted to even know what he was saying. Because Bucky talked in his sleep—and Steve could hear him calling that name through the thin walls that separated their rooms. "You've been at the bookstore?"

Bucky set his drink down. There was so use denying it—his friend would see right through him. Steve had known him for too damn long to believe in his lies. "She's so... I can't even put it into words. She makes me believe that there's good in this world. That all the things I did wrong don't even matter—not when I'm with her. It’s the way she looks at things, the way she’s capable of finding a little bit of good in everything. Like she found something good in me, Steve."

Steve knew it was true. Because he hadn’t seen Bucky this way for a very long time. Because he hadn’t seen that light in his friend’s eyes in a very long time, and ever since he met you, it hadn’t gone away.

—

Bucky had to leave for a couple of days.

He didn't tell you why—just that it was a work thing. How long would he be gone? He didn't know.

"I'll be back soon," he said. "I promise."

And he was. Five days later.

But Bucky was quiet—quieter than usual. 

It was a Sunday, and you’d somehow managed to drag him along to the farmer’s market with you. He walked alongside you, hands in his pockets, like he was aching to reach out and touch you but desperately holding himself back.

He’d almost gotten himself killed on that mission.

You took up too many thoughts in his head, too much space in his heart. And when the bullet narrowly missed him, grazing his ribs, his only thought was whether or not you’d miss him if he was gone.

You deserved better than someone who’s life was tied to the death of others. Someone who didn’t have so much blood on his hands.

A few paces ahead of you, Bella walked hand-in-hand with Bucky’s friend Sam. You were glad that Bucky had introduced them, glad that Sam made Bella happy in ways you’d never really known or understood before.

“Look at them,” you said, watching with a smile on your face as Sam quietly slipped a couple of oranges into Bella’s bag. “They look real happy.”

Then, turning to look at him, you smiled, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Because you might deserve better, but he was selfish and stubborn, and the only thing he had wanted in so goddamn long was you you you.

“Go out with me,” he blurted, every thread of self-control he had so carefully cultivated to keep his head in your presence snapping. He felt like he was taken back to that December evening he saw you for the first time, when the words refused to leave his mouth, when you’d rendered him tongue-tied and helpless. Only this time, he couldn’t stop the words from coming out, not as he said, “One date, y/n. One date, and if you don’t have a good time, we can just forget it ever happened and move on.”

His heart shuttered when he saw the small frown creasing your brow, your voice soft as you asked, “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want to do this for the rest of my life with you, y/n,” he said quietly. “But for now, I’ll take that date.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding slowly. “Okay, Bucky, I’ll go out with you.”

He couldn’t help it. Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you to him, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around until you were both laughing, childlike and breathless, blissfully unconscious of the knowing look on Sam and Bella’s faces.

Because really, how could he see anything but you? You had been it from the first day he saw, and you were it now—a blessing, beautiful and true.

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