#ILY INDI WITH MY ENTIRE HEART
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alrighty so i about thought my day couldn’t get ANY better after indi’s lil ask doodle today but it turns out i was proven wrong when i went down to check my mail and saw that my order from them arrived. :’)))
you can absolutely find me grinning like a fool the rest of the day and crying happy tears. <3333 ily Indi!!!!
#LOOK AT SIRIUS AND MOONS#LOOK AT THEM#ALL CUTE#AND LOOK AT JEGULUS#I LOVE THEM#THE STICKERS??? YOU KNOW ME TOO WELL#IM CARTWHEELING SCREAMING CRYING JUMPING AROUND DANCING ALL OVER THE PLACE#ILY INDI WITH MY ENTIRE HEART#MI AMORE#my keychains do not deserve them so now they live by the flowers by my bed#ily ily ily#soph’s indi tag#<3333
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okok catching up on troubleverse WHEWW and i have the perffff song for them, paired with the lyrics verse-for-verse and me screaming shrilly LMAOOO.
but this song is sosososo perf, like everything abt it from the lyrics to the singer's erratically paced singing to the general unhinged vibes and. IT SHARES A NAME WITH THE ENTIRE SERIES TOO OMG-- 'partner in crime' by madilyn mei!! i haven't listened to my folk indie queen for a hot minute but i had to pull it out from the dusty archive of my skull for u 😗😗
When you're gone I feel alone again / The voices cannot hold my hand / They keep me company at very best / Distract me from my loneliness
insanity mention?? dionysus the god of mania?? HELLOOOO CAN THOU HEAR ME [rattling at the bars of containment]
Maybe I'm just an anomaly / Even my demons have their families / Truly something must be wrong with me / To need you as much as I do
smth must be wrong with trouble to need luke as much as she does and vice versa smth smth okay like. i think the whole thing abt him being trouble's ESA from buddy system is saying enough 😭😭
I was never meant to win / [... maniacal laughing] SHUT UP!
THE LAUGHING AND THE MUTED SHUT UP HERE JUST GETS ME. straight chills, ik it didnt happen but during love like a blister if trouble screamed at the other counselors out of rage and the campers heard it the way it sounded in the song UGH. I WAS NEVER MEANT TO WIN. THEY DON'T EVER WIN BC LUKE HAS BEEN DOOMED BY THE NARRATIVE OMFG.
Here's the reigns / Take ahold of me / Please don't let me go / You do the talking / Sew up my mouth if I can't keep it closed
BUDDY SYSTEM CODED when they're on the road trip bc the image just comes to mind instantly, like if they see questioning adults luke has to do the sweet talking bc trouble is lowkey a pro yapper and can't keep her mouth shut at all. AND 'here's the reigns take ahold of me' NO WORDS no words at all just vibes bc wdym. i just think that luke being vulnerable to trouble and talking abt his mom as if he were giving her the reigns to his personal life ermm.
Run for it / I'll keep em occupied for you / Cause I love you, I love you so
SOMEBODYS ANGEL SAVE ME SOMEBODYS ANGEL SAVE ME. trouble stepping into the battle with ladon to save luke, 'run for it i'll keep [LADON] occupied cause i love you i love so' I AM SICK. SOMEONE MAKE ME SOME CONGEE UGHHH.
I'm 'bout to die / Yet the only thing I find i'm worried about is you / Something tells me you aren't coming / Guess that I'm truly doomed
i saw ur synopsis of asking for trouble like. he's dying and the only thing he can think abt. is trouble??? r u kidding me? and then trouble supposedly pleading his case with the olympians in the as above so below synopsis DONT TELL ME that trouble is gonna be too late for luke and so he dies thinking that she still hates him (based off what im assuming from the when the curtains close synopsis, 'all strings r cut' WDYM??)
I overhear your brain when it's close to mine / Oh, I know that we're not the same / My heart's on the line / I'm just a pawn in your game / Not your partner in crime
JO THEY R SUPPOSED TO BE PARTNERS IN CRIME HELLO. solipsism c'mere i just wanna talk bc drunk!trouble seeing luke from a different timeline and KNOWING HE'S REALLY THERE BUT IT ISNT HIM = 'i overhear your brain when it's close to mine / oh, i know that we're not the same' THEY ARE ON DIFFERENT WAVELENGTHS IN THE MOST LITERAL SENSE POSSIBLE WITH TIME in this essay i will--
You're slowly killing me / Taking your- (I was never meant to win)
luke to kronos, the titan is slowing killing him from the inside out the longer he's possessing luke. HE WAS NEVER MEANT TO WIN UGH. i need to put maddie and u in affectionate jail bc ASDFGHJKL goodbye i am finished. troubleverse is sososoo evil, like this is srsly what everyone else feels when they read jubi bc if it is i am so sorry for everything.
to conclude jo, ily but i also am gobsmacked with my mouth hanging wide open and catching flies bc this whole thing is unbe-fucking-lieveable. the way u built their whole ass relationship from the ground up and swung a baseball bat into it like ok i need to take a business month to process this for reasons known and unknown, my bags r packed up at the airport, who cares abt my chem grade, it is sabbatical time WHEWW
THEOOOOO IM SCREAMING UNTIL MY HEAD EXPLODES THE SONG REC IS SO GOOD??? how tf did i miss that
i am so happy that you made the troubleverse part of your day it is an honor to have you connect the dots from your perspective and see how everything is playing out!! you in my brain ill make you congee BAHAH you've been the only one to put some of the dots together for the final arc (or at least voice it, thank you for being brave) and i will neither confirm nor deny but your analysis is pretty spot on for someone who binge read it today thank you so much!!
study for chem no rest for the weak >:( love youu
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Hope you’re having a lovely day today! I’ve got some questions for you regarding Ethan and Tiffany <3
As a music lover, I’m curious about their music taste. If they were in charge of the music anywhere, what would play? What’s in their respective playlists and what are their favorite songs?
Avy!!! Omg, as a fellow music lover I was so thrilled to answer this ask 💌 Thank you so much for thinking of me and my babies, ILY ❤️❤️❤️
It’s a bit longer than expected because I can’t shut up, sorry ksbskbskbs
Tiffany’s heart will always beat to rock. But she also enjoys quality pop, some rap and r’n’b. Anything that just sounds right, you know? She’s addicted to music and cannot imagine a day without it.
Her love for rock’n’roll was borrowed from her eldest sister, Tavy. While her family assumed it would be a temporary fixation, Little Miss T has proven everyone wrong.
Inspired by my beloved Maud @blossomanarchy, I went a little extra and created a playlist with some of Tiffany’s all time favorites:
The list was much longer, but I figured I need to condense it a bit lol
As a child, Tiffany was exposed to classical music through dancing and her mother (a piano teacher) and it quickly became a part of her. After she quit dancing, that sentiment got buried deep for years. It was Ethan who brought it back. Much to his delight, he finally found someone to enjoy opera with.
She’s always up to date with alternative/indie rock music and enjoys discovering new artists like some cool European bands no one knows about.
While Ethan has no sympathy for the modern tunes and genres, all the mainstream popular songs only give him a headache, he finds Tiffany’s main rock playlist ‘bearable’ as it contains a lot of evergreens he used to hum daily when he was in high school, reminding him of his youth. Nothing too punk rock though, that vibe was always waaaaaaay too specific for his taste and I don’t picture him as that kind of rebel (because it wouldn’t be, you know, very Capricorn of him).
I think we can all agree that classical music with a side of iconic jazz is Grumpsey’s signature style.
I don’t really see him having a favorite song? Though he enjoys music, Ethan isn’t a frequent listener. Unlike Tiffany, he doesn’t deem it essential to his routine. To him, music is a form of relaxation, and he rarely finds time for that.
In my HC, he has a collection of rare vinyls just because he can kdhkddkb But still, he prefers the live performance.
He doesn’t have Spotify (or any other streaming app for that matter), but sometimes uses Tiffany’s when they’re on the road and she offers a change of tune for the sake of his sanity lol
The genre he loathes the most is rap, but he is forced to tolerate it since Tiffany vibes with it sometimes. And when she does…It’s an entire performance. He’s particularly familiar with Doja Cat. Against his will, obviously. But that dick’s 10/10, so T just can’t help herself jsvjsvjsvsjv
Another life-changing moment was when Tiffany sang Like a Prayer to him. She made him understand what the song is really about…If you catch my drift 👀
#ethan ramsey#ethan x mc#tiffany addams#random facts about tiff#ethan ramsey x mc#ethan x tiffany#music#i didn't proofread this
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tag 9 people to learn more about their interests!
tysm luna @lunamoons for tagging me💖
MUSIC
fave genre: oooh i really love alternative and synth-pop
fave artist: allie x
fave song: we appreciate power- grimes ft. hana
most listened song recently: science- allie x
song currently stuck in your head: dream of you- mxmtoon
5 fave lyrics: ‘neanderthal to human being/ evolution, kill the gene, biology is superficial, intelligence is artificial’- we appreciate power- grimes ft. hana | ‘tv taught me how to feel/ now real lfe has no appeal’- oh no!- marina | ‘i'll send you my love on a wire’- black sheep- metric & brie larson | ‘stay cool, it's just a kiss/ oh, why you gotta be so talkative?’- talk too much- coin | ‘heard you're pregnant/ that’s cool I guess/ but can you make your whole room glow three different shades of red?’- out of style- the wrecks
radio or your own playlist | solo artists or bands | pop or indie alternative | loud or silent volume I slow or fast songs | music video or lyrics video | speakers or headset | riding a bus in silence or while listening to music | driving in silence or with radio on
BOOKS
fave book genre: look i’m down to read anything that’s interesting as long as it isn’t Y/A and doesn’t have 30 books in the series
fave writer: i don’t really read based on author?? so i don’t think i have one
fave book: little women, ready player one, catch 22
fave book series: i actually despise book series’ so oopsies… if i had to pick then maybe chaos walking or the hunger games idk
comfort book: hm i don’t have any? maybe my books on video game concept art but idk that counts lmao
perfect book to read on a rainy day: wrow i really don’t read enough to answer these properly
fave characters: amy march
5 quotes from your fave book that you know by heart: I literally only know one quote so- ‘I want to be great or nothing’- Louisa May Alcott- Little Women
hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or reading in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary | rereading or reading just once
TV AND MOVIES
fave tv/ movie genre: psychological thrillers/ horror. like films that use horror as the vehicle rather than the destination. i really like films that leave u feeling a little fucked up afterwards. its nice
fave movie: HOT SUMMER NIGHTS, gerwig’s little women, 1917, the killing of a sacred deer, minari, scott pilgrim vs. the world, anything from the mcu really. full list here🤩
comfort movie: little women, mamma mia (esp the second one), the man from u.n.c.l.e., captain fantastic
movie you watch every year: oh i rewatch a lot but like little women (it’s monthly lmao) and i do an mcu marathon every year
fave tv show: i literally have been loving all the mcu shows on disney + recently. aside from that daredevil has always been the fave though. also i really love the norwegian show ragnarok!
comfort tv show: i don’t really watch tv shows for comfort?? i like films way more but if i had to choose then like bob’s burgers? like just an ep not the entire thing bc commitment
most rewatched tv show: i watched the entirety of daredevil like three times. i don’t really rewatch a lot of shows bc again commitment
top 5 characters: Amy March (Little Women), Thomas Blake (1917), Martin Lang (The Killing of a Sacred Deer), Envy Adams (Scott Pilgrim vs. the World), Peter Parker (MCU)
tv shows or movie | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or binging | one season or multiple seasons whatever is best for the plot | one part or saga again, whatever is best for the plot | half hour or one hour long episodes i’m gonna say it again, whatever is best for the plot | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online
tagging: @leonscottskennedy, @rocketsummers, @celticwoman, @maeflower, @lacunafiction (pls ignore if u don’t want to do it ily💖) + anyone who sees this and wants to do it!
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nooo you can’t be a swiftie too. sir, you are stealing my entire identity.
*has to google fishlegs to remember him* he looks vaguely familiar, wash he the clumsy shopkeeper?
i think it a queer person thing. i mean i had a crush on gwen and courtney from total drama island and i still thought i was straight as a child lmao.
honestly we both deserve to be the “knife wife.” (thinks of that tumblr post)
also for some wlw desi content look up anjali and sufi. if you want to cry look at their photos that went viral of them (warning: cuteness levels are at life threatening)
honestly fuck the universe bc i had to see them again yesterday 🖕🏽
mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah (at this point they aren’t even kisses)
ilysm *gives you a giant hug just cause*
- indi <33
bestie i am SUCH a swiftie <3 i would lay down my life for her, i might like olivia more but im a swiftie at heart
he was! i loved him so much he looked soft and warm and he was very large and i wanted to marry him
lol so true. its easier to say theyre just cool bc theyre fictional than admit you want to date them </3
omh but yessss, i love cortana so much, i actually just finished coi, and im sobbing like!! i wanted matthew! cordelia has james fuck off i love matthew!! why does this always happen to me :(
they met on tumblr :(((( and theyre so lovely :(((( where is my wife 🔫 (jk i know its you <3)
👎🏽👎🏽👎🏽 boooo, we dont want you here booooooooo
*repeatedly nudges my face on you in a bare semblance of a kiss* mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah m- (you slapped me)
ily more <3 <3
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abstract: chapter 3
chapter 2!! you can also read it on ao3 :)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader
Summary: Wait- Bucky Barnes attends your art class? And you didn’t even recognize him?
Word Count: 9520. i am deranged. someone euthanize me i beg you.
Author’s note: jesus fucking christ. this is so long for no reason. probably kind of poorly written. that is okay though. i really really appreciate the support you guys have given me for the last 2 chapters!! i was a bit iffy about joining tumblr but i’m glad to be here now :) please comment and reblog!! i appreciate it so much!!! ily all ok now enjoy this mess!!!
“You want to paint me?”
Rina looks at you, shocked, mouth agape, lone cherry tomato speared on her fork.
“Yeah,” you say, and smile with your straw still in between your teeth. “You in a field of flowers.”
“You want to paint me in a field of flowers?”
“Yes- that’s literally what I just said.”
The bustle of the restaurant is loud enough to drown out the rising volume of her voice. Thankfully. She’s being excessive, again- as if this is the first time she’s ever been the center of attention- but you’re fine with it today. You almost like it.
Today, her enthusiasm is almost contagious.
“I know,” Rina says “Duh. But, like, it’s just so crazy to me that you want to put me in your second solo show ever- I mean, why me?”
“Because,” you say, and almost leave it at that, just to mess with her. “Because you’re my best friend, and the whole thing is focused on people I know. And your hair would look so good with poppies, and-”
“I’m your best friend?”
“Obviously,” you say, even though to her, it might not be that obvious. “Who else?”
“That is so sweet,” she says, and leans back in her seat, dramatically clutching her hands over her heart. Rings sit on each of her fingers, gold and heavy stone. “You are too nice to me.”
She’s really milking it. But you’ll let it slide.
Rina gives you a self-satisfied smile, which you return without too much trouble. She’s so overwrought and showy with how she sits, limbs sprawled all over, like they’ve been blown into disarray by the wind. Her hair, still glossy red, is parted down the middle and made up in two French braids, tips just barely brushing her shoulders. The hair ties don’t match.
She has no best friend. She probably has, like, five other people just like you, who she calls on when she feels like it, whenever she wants company, when she feels like humoring someone. Or when she wants someone to listen to her talk.
It comes as part of the lifestyle- can you really blame her?
“I know,” you say, veering back on topic. “Bucky gave me the idea.”
You do it on purpose.
Her eyes go wide.
“Bucky?” She says, incredulously. Like she doesn’t believe you.
The feeling of being incompetent comes quick in a flash, and it takes too much to put it away.
You’re not incompetent- his number is in your phone, after all, isn’t it?
“The Winter Soldier, I mean,” you say, and the words feel all wrong in your mouth.
“No . Shut up. You are not on first-name basis with the fucking Winter Soldier.”
“Oops,” you say.
Her jaw drops.
You’re grinning too hard. She didn’t expect this from you- you didn’t expect this from you! You take a bite of your food, some garlicky chicken thing you can’t pronounce the name of, to delay your response. It gives you time to think of what to say next.
Rina waits, stunned into silence.
“We’re… talking, I think,” you say. “I asked him for his number.”
“And he gave it to you?”
“Yep.”
There’s a story there, that you won’t tell her.
You texted him a day after class, on Tuesday. Was that too soon? You didn’t care, your mind was too muddled with so many other things- icy blue eyes and different techniques for drawing wrinkles and this week’s shopping list and the best color that went with orange-red, and the laundry that you still hadn’t done.
You were too giddy to get smart with it- all you sent was a simple Hey.
All he sent back was a simple Hi.
Then, once you had read over his message too many times, you turned your phone off and pretended it never happened.
It’s too nerve-wracking. And pointless. You’re going to see him on Monday again, anyway! There’s plenty of time to text him- everything doesn’t have to be so immediate- you’ll get around to it before then, for sure.
You just have to stop thinking so much.
“I cannot believe you,” Rina gushes, and from her expression, you believe her. “You’re all grown up! I am so proud of you. That man is delicious, I cannot-”
“Do not describe him as delicious, oh my god.”
You burst out laughing as Rina raises one eyebrow, filled in dark. Her eye makeup always kills. “Am I wrong?”
“Well… no, but…”
***
Steve leaves, but Bucky stays back at the end of class to help you clean up. Acrylics again, and it’s the second-to-last class, so you had finally brought out the canvas.
Canvas means more fun, but more mess. More paint splatters on the tables, more brushes with clogged-up bristles.
Bucky doesn’t smile as he says bye to Steve, and it makes you feel a certain type of way , but you stick to business. Cleaning supplies are pulled out, paper towels are ripped from the dispenser. Bucky starts on the tables while you roll up your sleeves and start the sink, preparing to start on the brushes.
God- these brushes.
If these brushes were washed incorrectly, you would cry. They’re new, and high-quality, and the bristles are still soft and not yet frayed or discolored, and the handles are made of thick, clear plastic, and they come in different sizes and styles, and you can barely believe it, but they all even have rubber grips.
They’re really nice brushes.
“You didn’t text me back,” Bucky says.
You wish the sink was loud enough to swallow all sound, swallow you up within it.
Still, you look over your shoulder, giving him a pained smile while he scrubs at a spot of dried paint. He looks back at you, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking.
Of course you didn’t text back- thinking less is way harder than it seems.
“I wanted to,” you say, “but I got nervous. Sorry.”
You turn back to the sink. It’s a little easier to breathe without having to look at him.
“You got nervous,” he repeats, voice still so unreadable.
Is he mad? He always looks mad, always sounds mad- you can’t ever tell if there’s anything behind it.
“Yeah,” you say, and shrug, like it’s no big deal at all, like you chicken out of things all the time, like texting is always such a cause for concern. “I didn’t know what to say. What was I supposed to say?”
“I don’t know.”
Ugh.
The sink water slowly circles the drain. You don’t look past it, only keeping your eyes on the sink and the remaining brushes- it helps calm your heart, a little. Bucky is probably on the last few tables. All of the paintings have been neatly propped up on the drying racks.
Bucky painted his entire canvas yellow.
You are so dumb.
“Um, okay” you say, shutting off the sink. The really nice brushes are all neatly piled up on the counter on top of a folded paper towel, washed and drying. “What if I was like, ‘hey, Bucky, after this class ends and I’m not your art instructor anymore, would you want to meet up sometime?’”
You turn back around and lean against the sink. It’s an effort that deserves applause- you look so collected, while your heart is beating way too fast, and Bucky, its forever opposite, just stands behind a table, spray bottle in hand.
Your hands are sweaty.
He nods slowly, and it’s a victory in and of itself- the action nearly has you weak at the knees.
“Meet up,” he repeats, voice low, like a halfhearted growl. Disdainful, kind of. “Like a date.”
You wipe your hands on your apron. It’s a totally normal, totally relaxed movement. But then you’re wishing that you wore something cuter- was this sweatshirt really the only thing you had? Do you not own, like, a blouse, or something? Didn’t you just do your laundry?
Fuck, you’re being annoying.
“We don’t have to call it that,” you say. “We can just… hang out. Eat something. Go on a walk.”
You say it casually, but honestly, you like nice dates. Dates at art museums, dates at fusion restaurants, dates at movie theaters showing indie films in foreign languages. Anything eccentric, haphazard. Spontaneous.
But you also like seeing him smile, and you like to talk, and you like to be listened to- and he is giving you that.
This is a different type of everything. It’s all upside down, inside out, twisted over in itself. You have to approach it all differently, maybe it’s because he’s too quiet or too famous or too dangerous or whatever the hell, but none of it matters.
What matters is that you want it.
You’ll realign your compass.
“Okay,” he says. “I like walks.”
“Great,” you say, and go on without hesitating, because long nights have you tired and hesitation is for the weak, “I like you.”
Bucky Barnes, real, unfitting name James, clutching dirty paper towels and a spray bottle, smiles at you.
It’s wrong, but you could just bite him.
A sudden, unprompted thought hurls through your mind- you want to paint him.
***
The last art class.
It was once long-awaited, but now, you’re actually sad to see everyone go.
You buy a tray of cookies. It’s the least you can do- everyone has been so nice to you, so respectful and cooperative. Everyone has made things fun. You don’t know if you were doing anything right, but it sure as hell has been enjoyable.
Crumbs might get in the paint, but’s a small price to pay.
“Knock yourself out,” you announce.
The tray is set out on the middle table. You forgot the package of napkins back at your studio, so you gesture to the paper towel dispenser.
Then you long for the kids in your Wednesday and Thursday classes, because unlike these people, they wouldn’t be looking so dead at the prospect of free cookies.
You shake your head and return to your perch, tucking your feet behind the legs of the stool.
Eventually the conversations trickle out, slowly turning the room warm and lovely and bright. You listen in, a little, savor it, and hop back up. There’s nothing to do- might as well make some idle chitchat, one last time.
Shonna uses a small brush to add purple highlights to the feathers of a pigeon. It’s gorgeous- and you don’t even like pigeons- but you like her painting style and the jewel tones she’s adding amidst the grey, and the orange beak, and the washed-out yellow background she’s painting over.
“Wow,” you say, and she adds another purple highlight with a flick of her hand. “I cannot stop looking at this pigeon.”
“Thank you, honey,” she says, without looking up.
She’s too focused for you to stay for too long- you have to leave the pigeon for others. Marcie waves you down and gives you the latest update about her son, abandoning her half-painted rose while she launches into a bit of a tirade- her son wants to pierce his nose, isn’t that ridiculous?
“Hey, I wanted to pierce my nose when I was his age, too,” you say, and spout something about self-expression that makes her frown.
Ahmed chimes in. You have no idea what the blob he’s painting is supposed to be, but you like it. “I’ve been trying to tell her the same thing! These kids are modern now- these are just the things they do!”
“These are just the things we do,” you echo.
Marcie heaves a heavy sigh.
***
You head over to a few more tables, and it goes by too fast and too slow, but then you’re suddenly there in the back, with your star student, and your…
With Bucky.
“I really like how this is turning out,” Steve says proudly, as you approach them.
Then, he adds, almost childishly, “Don’t look until I’m done.”
He has a half-eaten sugar cookie sitting by his paint water.
“I won’t look” you promise, and all at once, you’re almost emotional- he is such a nice guy. He’s like the human embodiment of a golden retriever. “Don’t worry.”
Steve nods, pleased and nervous at the same time. You pointedly look away from the painting as you slide into a seat, across from Bucky and his yellow canvas.
Yellow and black canvas. He’s hunched over with a fat-bristled paintbrush in hand, adding black stripes, blobby and unevenly spaced, but still unbelievably straight.
It is all so cute.
“Very bumblebee-esque,” you say, and his forehead creases. “I like it.”
Steve smiles.
Bucky adds another line. He didn’t take a cookie. He should’ve- the chocolate-chip is so good.
“Thanks,” he says.
And Steve just smiles wider, and you almost kick him under the table, and Bucky gives you an unsmiling look that turns you to jelly.
Hat aside, he is looking exceptionally pretty today. All hair and eyes and bone structure- it makes you want to do something, like reaching out and grabbing him by the collar of his jacket. Like running a hand over his jaw. Catching his stubble under your fingertips.
Parting his hair down the middle and French braiding it.
Taking a picture- it'll last longer.
“I'm going to miss seeing you guys around.”
Steve gives you a surprised look and shakes his head. He has one arm protectively curled around his canvas, even though you’re still not looking.
“Oh, I’m sure one of us will be seeing you around,” he says, and grins.
You glare at him.
Bucky laughs.
***
The goodbyes aren’t as bad as you thought they would be.
People leave with a simple goodbye and a brief thank you, shrugging on their coats and gingerly clinging to their still-damp artwork. Marcie makes you promise her that you won’t pierce your nose. One woman who would always come to the class with a huge coffee cup sets her painting aside to sweep you into a hug.
It’s very gratifying.
Steve and Bucky linger.
Shonna does, too, but for a completely different reason.
You want to give her Rina’s contact. She probably has some painting class available, if Shonna’s interested in that sort of thing, if she’s okay with being around so much personality.
And you also want to give her your contact- so she can keep on sending you pictures of those birds.
“One sec,” you tell her, and reach for your purse, sitting on the counter.
Bucky is standing closeby, remarkably closeby, and you accidentally brush against him.
He goes rigid.
But you’re busy pulling out a pen and a scrap piece of paper, and then you’re using the counter as a hard surface to write against, shoulders angled away from him, and you’re talking all the while- you don’t have the spare second to be concerned.
“This is my email,” you say, adding a smiley face after the address. “Send me your art. And, like, talk to me. Send me your grocery lists, if you want- I don’t care. Here.”
Shonna takes it and gives you a smile. There’s a glimmer of something in it, a knowing.
“Thank you,” she says, and laughs a little, and you suddenly fiercely miss your mother. “I’ll keep the last bit in mind.”
She looks past you. Steve, standing a few feet away, holding the canvas he still hasn’t shown you, nods respectfully. And Bucky, standing near the counter, still near you, even though he’s looking at you like you’ve scalded him.
“I’ll leave you to it,” she says.
You almost ask, “to what?” But she’s already left- Shonna and her pigeons are gone.
Steve steps up fast to take her place.
You still have no time to think.
“So, this is the finished product,” Steve says with no preamble, and with a great flourish that makes you laugh in delight, he turns the canvas around.
Oh.
Wow.
You’re not dizzy.
But you will be, if you keep on looking at this- a tangle of vines on a wall, with blooming flowers in what should be the wrong colors, dappled in light from a window you can’t see, drawn from a strange perspective. The leaves are really big and the vines are really small, and then it’s flip-flopped, and he has a hot-pink underpainting that he didn’t fully cover, so there’s pink in the leaves, pink on the wall. Pink in the un-pink flowers.
“Fuck,” you say, and then go quiet.
Steve tenses.
Now you have two very strong men looking at you weird.
You should probably fix that.
“I don’t- I don’t know what to say,” you say, stumbling over your words, feeling cotton-mouthed. “There are no coherent thoughts going on in my head right now. I’m just- where did this even- how did you even come up with this?”
“I tried to do that thing you said,” Steve says, sounding uncertain. He shifts and the painting moves with him, sending pink flickering over your eyesight. “No empty space. Because it’s boring.”
What is this called, again? Artists supporting artists?
“It is boring,” you say in agreement, and your voice comes back to you, all at once. “And holy shit, you pulled it off so well. I’m obsessed with the pink underpainting- it’s everything. You literally invented pink. And can we talk about these vines? How long did it take you to draw them all tangled up like that? And the flowers- you even gave them little stems, ugh. And all the colors! And this lighting- I’m sorry, I have too much to say.”
Like watching a flower bloom, Steve unfurls at your praise, blush deepening with each compliment. It’s so wonderfully endearing, and internally, you sigh in relief.
“Thank you,” he says, and bursts into the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. “Also, we have one more question.”
“We?” You ask, and Bucky clears his throat.
You turn to him.
Already, you have a whole slew of problems- you have to sketch out an emerging idea and place an order for new brushes, ones with rubber grips, and you have to cook dinner when you get home because lately you’ve been ordering too much takeout, and you have to organize your closet, and you have to give an adequate and peppy response to whatever Steve is about to say-
You’re bursting at the seams.
There isn’t much room for anything else. Any concern.
“You have something to say, Bucky?” You ask, and waggle your eyebrows.
He doesn’t crack a smile- just how you like it.
“I do,” he says, smugly, and then says your name in a way that ties your stomach up in knots, that has you thinking of flowers and chiffon.
“We were wondering if you’re free tomorrow,” Steve says, and then invites you out for drinks, for tomorrow evening.
So you’ve passed the initial threshold of friendship, and now you’re onto group drinking! That’s exciting- and you’ll get to see Bucky, and you’ll get to postpone that tedious process of planning out a date- a hang-out, and you’ll have an opportunity to show up in something besides jeans and sad sweatshirts.
There hasn’t been a chance to show it off to him, yet, but you can dress.
Steve mentions another friend named Sam, who might join, too, if that’s okay with you.
“I’m cool with it,” you say. “The more the merrier, right?”
He has to be a decent guy, if Steve associates with him, and you like new people.
But doesn’t Steve also associate with, like, Tony Stark?
That man is oh-so problematic. He rolls out with a new scandal every month. He’s had enough scandals that he could release a line of red-and-gold-themed calendars- with the dates of each scandal marked in. Each month could have its own photo, too, coinciding with the dates.
Tony Stark, making peace signs at a court hearing. Tony Stark, wasted on a yacht. Tony Stark, in the middle of an interview where he bashes people who have absolutely nothing to do with him.
“That sounds like fun,” you say, and Steve lets out a breath of relief, “but I have to ask, about Sam? Is he, like, a…”
An Avenger? A genetically-altered individual? A prominent public figure with a stupid amount of money?
“He’s a really nice guy,” Steve quickly says.
“He’s a pain in the ass,” Bucky says, immediately after him.
***
As it turns out, Sam Wilson is not a pain in the ass.
He is really nice, but more importantly, he is funny.
Bucky texted you the address a few hours ago. You walk into the bar and at once, you’re assaulted by an excess of dark- dark floors, dark lighting, dark accents on the decor. None of it is dingy, just low-lit. It’s a nice place.
It might be a little too nice- nothing like the sticky-floored, rowdy sports-themed bars you usually hit when you’re in the mood to get hammered.
You catch the back of a head, wavy brown hair and thick shoulders, in a booth tucked into the corner. Steve, sitting opposite him, against the wall, catches your eye and waves you over.
Next to Bucky is a guy you’ve never seen before, Sam. Black skin, close-cropped hair, looking over his shoulder to flash a grin at you. Even in a simple shirt, you can tell that he is built.
He’s an Avenger, then. Maybe.
You’ve just barely slid in beside Steve, and you’re grinning and making some dumb comment about the disaster that is the New York subway system, when Sam fixes you with a gleeful look and leans forward.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says, casting a side-eye at Bucky. “I’m not joking when I say this- I was starting to think that Barnes made you up. He’s always doing crazy shit like that. Anyways, you will not believe why I’m actually here.”
You humor him, because why the hell not? “Why are you actually here?”
Already, you can tell that he has that vaguely-ironic, purposely-stupid sense of humor, which you always find absolutely hilarious. And you want to know what he means by crazy shit.
Bucky looks up at you for a few charged seconds, telling you something you can’t decipher, and then ducks his hand back down to stare intensely at his drink. Something amber, with ice cubes.
“I’m here to make sure that you don’t feel bad. Because these two fossils,” Sam says, and Steve winces, “can’t get drunk. But I can! So if you wanna get trashed, I’m game.”
Under the dimmed lights, Sam’s teeth shine perfectly white. All of Steve’s friends seem to have perfectly white teeth.
“It’s because of the serum,” Steve says, and you just gawk.
They both can’t get drunk?
Because of their fucking superhero vaccine?
“What the hell,” you say, and rest your elbows on the tabletop. Bucky’s gaze follows your arms, starting at the hems of the sleeves, trailing up to your shoulders. “That’s so… Steve, if you can’t get drunk, then why are you torturing yourself with that beer?”
“It’s for the feeling,” Steve says quietly, blushing pink, and Bucky is still quiet, and you have a feeling that this has something to do with nostalgia, or World War II, or something. The good old days.
Sam catches it too, so he buts in, quickly bringing the conversation back to something less layered, less wired.
He’s a man with nothing to hide. He tells you who he is with no hesitation, without trying to skip over or disguise anything- he’s open. He’s a war vet, too, and now an Avenger- he’s the Falcon. He has, he says, a pair of fancy-ass wings. And the coolest outfit.
“Wait,” you say, and you’re suddenly dying to know, “what does it feel like to fly?”
His eyes light up.
“You know when you’re trying to sleep, and then you randomly get that feeling that you’re falling, and your stomach does that thing?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s like that, but you can control it. It’s fucking amazing.”
He launches into a whole spiel, talking your ear off about the feeling of high-altitude wind on his skin and aerodynamics and some science-y things you don’t understand, and you get your own beer and enjoy the sweet feeling of getting buzzed on a weeknight, and as the edge you constantly have on yourself shifts, the seats shift, too.
You don’t know how, but you end up next to Bucky, in between him and the wall. Not touching, but close. Sam is across from you and Steve is next to him, and all of a sudden they’re talking about Chex Mix.
“If the Avengers were Chex Mix pieces,” Sam says, throwing the word Avenger around casually enough to make Steve’s hesitations seem horrendously uptight, “I would be the garlic chip. The best part of the whole damn bag. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“Yeah, those chips are definitely the best part,” you say, adopting a mock-seriousness. “And Tony Stark would be one of those knobby-ass, crunchy little mini breadsticks.”
Sam mirrors your expression, nodding gravely, like what you’re both evaluating is a highly intellectual subject. “I completely agree. And for Rogers- man, you’re a pretzel.”
You narrow your eyes. “Square or circle?”
“Uh,” Sam says, turning to survey poor, unprepared Steve, looking equal parts bewildered and embarrassed. “Square.”
“Great choice. And Bucky?”
“Bucky…” Sam hesitates, and the briefest smile flashes over his face before he schools his expression back into objectivity, “Bucky is one of those original Chex squares. Sorry.”
“That’s cold,” you say, and Sam smiles again, and leans all the way back in his seat, bringing his hands behind his head.
“He’s not one of the yellow squares, though- those are actually good,” Sam starts, grin growing wider by the second, and you can’t tell if it would be rude to laugh. “He’s not one of those squares with extra seasoning, either. Bucky is just one of the plain brown squares. The wheat squares, or whatever the hell. Have you ever, like- have you ever wondered what the sole of a shoe tastes like? Or the eraser on top of a pencil? That’s what those taste like- that’s what he is. Just one of the plain Chex squares.”
Your jaw drops.
A roast like that from a halfway drunk man is absolutely scathing.
Bucky just levels a glare.
He’s used to this, you think. Is that his crazy shit? That he never reacts to anything?
You’re definitely a little tipsy- this is obviously no time to get wasted, but the edge has certainly been taken off, the corners of your world having gone hazy. In a lull, you watch a well-dressed man standing by the vestibule doors lean past your field of vision and receive what you think is a kiss on the cheek.
Without thinking, you lean close to Bucky and cup a hand over his ear.
Maybe he won’t react, maybe he will, but you’re not going to give him the time for either.
“I think that you’re the garlic chip,” you whisper loudly, and you’ll probably cringe yourself into oblivion over it when you're sober, but you think he shivers- and then he snorts.
“Thank you,” he says, and Sam putters out, giving you an amazed look.
***
“Heyyy,” you say later, turning to Bucky, when time has passed and you’re no longer on the subject of Chex Mix and he’s still a little too quiet. “What’s up?”
He’s quiet and troubled, drinking what might be whiskey like it’s water. Is it whiskey? You didn’t think that people actually drank whiskey- just kept it around in crystal decanters and silver flasks to look cool, like they’re main characters in a movie.
“The sky,” he says dryly, like you didn’t say that same exact shit when you were in middle school, hopelessly thinking that it was the slickest comeback.
“Very funny, James,” you say, and he huffs, and you feel a brief flash of panic, and then you’re almost apologizing, when he grins.
You know maybe three whole things about him, but you’ll press yourself up against him right here and now, under the low light of a fancy bar, with rain sliding down outside the window panes, with his friends right across the table. You don’t care.
His friends can tell.
“We’ll be right back,” Steve says suddenly, making a very showy display of getting up with Sam. Both of them send you obnoxious grins and suggestively raised eyebrows.
Bucky glares. You can’t stop smiling.
“You kids have fun,” Sam calls, and you laugh.
Just you and him, then. The mood shifts fast, turning from one thing to… another. Bucky’s eyes reflect the window outside, falling dark and darker, and you’re slipping, too.
“You look really nice,” Bucky says, and his eyes dip down in the slyest fucking move- you’re almost proud of him for it, for having such game.
A spark of heat flashes through you, as he takes you in slowly, like he’s trying to savor it.
You opted for a slightly tighter shirt, and a pair of jeans, but they’re your nice jeans. The ones without any weird streaks of paint on the thighs. And you wear a beaded necklace, and in your ears, a pair of fun, delicate hoop earrings, dangling with charms in the shape of crescent moons.
“Thanks,” you lean back, into the wall, letting your voice drop to match the tone of his. “You do, too.”
He just stares at you, unamused. Still dark, and dangerous.
Purple chiffon, you think, and marigolds. The flower was meant for another friend, but she’ll have to manage, because now, you can only see Bucky with marigolds, with no room for anyone else.
“So,” you say, before the silence carries on and makes you do something stupid, “Done anything fun lately?”
He tenses. Again.
There’s all these things that you know you can’t ask him, things about his job and his hobbies and his metal fucking arm, which you still haven’t seen- which you’re fine with, but, like. It’s the fact that he has a metal arm in the first place- he is so detached from everything you know, and you aren’t sure if you know how to navigate it all. You don’t think he knows how to navigate it, either.
He’s hesitant, you think. But not unwilling.
You’re just going to roll with it.
”I watched a movie today,” he says, sounding so smooth that your clutch on your drink wavers. His eyes are raking you over, cold.
Red marigolds. Not the orange ones. Red marigolds with the little golden borders on the edges of each petal.
“Which movie?”
He shakes his head. “I forgot the name”
“Okay, well, what was it about?”
“Talking dogs.”
You laugh and he smiles, and then you feel light enough to float. “Talking dogs?”
“Yeah,” Bucky says, and he takes a sip. His mouth is very pink. Layers, you think, layers and overlapping, to make the fabric look hazy. Washed-out. “They talk when their owners aren’t home.”
“That sounds right up your alley,” you say, and you’re giggly and he’s all smiley and maybe you’re being embarrassing, but whatever, because he’s looking at you like he’s never been smiley with anyone else before, and you really, really want to lean in.
You’ll wait.
***
Sam comes back with Steve a little bit later, but it isn't until you’re getting ready to leave when he brings it up.
“You’re good for him,” Sam says, while Bucky and Steve have gone to pay. Your drinks are on him- how chivalrous. “Honestly, you’re probably too good for him.”
You laugh as you shrug on your jacket. “Doubt it.”
“No, I’m serious,” he says, voice dropping to an urgent whisper. You realize at once that he’s about to say something heavy, something concerning. “He has been through some fucked-up shit. It’s not his fault, obviously, but it’s always there. He’s never going to get over it. Sometimes he doesn’t sleep. He just stays awake, for like, three whole days at a time. Sometimes he just disappears. He never tells anyone where he goes. Sometimes he does this thing where he-”
“I get it,” you say quickly, and he must be able to see your sudden dread, because his face softens.
“I’m not trying to scare you. I just want you to know- that that’s what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Thanks,” you say, and zip up your coat, and then pat your pockets even though you know you have everything, just so you have an excuse to not say anything. Sam gives you a long look, before sighing and pulling out his phone.
Obviously, Sam is trying to tell you that Bucky is damaged.
You’re not in the business of fixing things, but you’ll take him as he is anyway, because...
“Sam?” you say, and he looks up from his phone.
“Sometimes,” you start, and swallow down whatever anxiety is starting to surface, “Sometimes he’s being all quiet and moody and angsty and whatever, I get that same feeling that you’re telling me. But then, like, he just does something. Like, he’ll make a joke, or say something, and then it’s like-”
You struggle with your words- it’s like everything you want to say is there, but you can’t reach it. Sam slides his phone into his pocket, and Bucky is coming back, with Steve in tow, moon and sun, peas in a pod. You wonder if Sam makes their duo a trio, if he’s the third invitee to their slumber party, or if he’s just on the fringes.
“It’s like- It’s like, okay. Like, I know who he is and it’s all okay.”
He nods, and smiles at you, and you sincerely hope that he isn’t just on the fringes.
***
The paintings of your parents are finished- and they are good. So good. Every detail is there, every color. Every line. The wrinkles and the flowers and the lace neckline of your mother’s dress. Looking at them makes you feel so proud- it’s been forever since you were able to properly convey your thoughts onto canvas.
They’re big, too. Larger than life. You’ll have to rent one of those orange U-Haul trailers to transport them.
On a new canvas is Rina, only halfway painted. She looks good too, even though right now she’s just a head and a torso and two floating feet, because getting the colors on her legs right is harder than you thought. It’s tricky to paint the shadows and contours without her legs just looking bruised- there’s so many flower stems overlapping with the skin, so you don’t have a lot of room to work with.
You’ll figure it out.
You might be a little in over your head, actually. Confident- a little too confident. You don’t even have this painting done, and you’re itching to start on another. A possible recipe for disaster, but every time you have a spare second, in the shower or on the subway or when you’re trying to fall asleep, you find yourself thinking about it.
Not in bits and pieces the way most of your thoughts are, but a fully formed concept; a real, true image brimming with fullness, already starting to spill over into everything you do.
You have it all figured out. You know what techniques you’ll use. What composition, what colors.
You text Bucky.
Nothing crazy. You know you could scare him off, or maybe not, not anymore- by the end of the night at the bar last week, you sat next to him and bumped up against him and whispered in his ear, and right before you left he flicked the charm on your earring, watched it sway, and then he smirked- and you almost died.
You text him Hey, and then set your phone on the farthest surface you can find, pointedly avoiding it. Rina’s calves need attention- you have paint to mix.
Ten minutes later, your phone rings.
You can’t help it, you’re weak-hearted- you drop everything and dash to your phone, dodging your carts of supplies and hopping over a stack of toppled canvases that you never bothered to pick up, and pick up on the third ring.
“Hi,” you say into the receiver, slightly out of breath.
“Hi,” he says, and he sounds slightly out of breath, too.
“Um,” you say, and laugh a little, with the heady rush of nerves flooding in, “I wasn’t expecting you to call.”
“I called because I’m a slow texter,” Bucky says.
You feel so fluttery. When was the last time you felt this fluttery?
“Oh. That’s okay. I was just wondering if you... wanted to meet up sometime soon? Tomorrow, maybe?”
Tomorrow is Saturday, a day off. For you, at least- do Avengers get days off?
“Okay,” he says, and you swear he sounds pleased. You want to cut straight to something else. Skip, jump, leap over all of these steps, so you can get to what you really want to tell him. “I think I can do that. Where are we meeting?”
“There’s this little cafe we can… we can head there first, I’ll text you the address, but I have this idea,” you say, and wait for his invitation to continue, with your heart beating dangerously fast, thrumming like it might just burst through your ribs.
“What’s your idea?”
Thank you, you almost say, but don’t.
The steps are skipped, formalities disregarded- you just tell him.
It’s the perfect time- there’s that currently rare, pretty daylight that grows with each passing day streaming in through your windows unfiltered, blocked by no blinds or curtains. You pace a little, at first, right in the sun, and then sit down on a stool, toeing the smooth wood floors beneath, cradling the phone.
You start it off simple, with the marigolds.
Red marigolds, you specify, because you feel like you have to. Then you delve deeper, into chiffon and lighting and this thing you want to try out with layering, where two elements that overlap go by a completely different color scheme. Like, you say, like the flowers are red and the clothes are black, but the places where they meet are electric pink or orange or blue or something else unusual and distracting.
Save for the sound of his breathing, Bucky is quiet. You can tell that he’s really listening, probably sitting down somewhere and focusing on you, not doing some other task with your voice as background noise. He doesn’t interrupt when you go off on a tangent about the importance of natural lighting or contradict yourself with opposing statements on color choice, or when your words start to deteriorate, when they start pouring out so fast that they slur together and become less than coherent.
Your mind is going even faster- you can see the image even when you blink.
Something at the back of your thoughts tells you to stop, to slow down. You need to chill out.
But the idea is so vivid, so you can’t- you don’t, not until the idea is totally exhausted and you give a final sigh and go quiet, not until after giving what could count as an entire fucking speech.
When Bucky speaks again, he sounds tentative.
“I… like it,” he says, and maybe he’s holding his phone at a bad angle, because his voice is quiet.
“You do?” You say, instead of asking something else, with a sudden bad feeling in your gut.
“Yeah. But…”
You know what he says without him having to say it.
It feels like you’ve been punched.
The picture behind your eyelids burns brighter.
“That’s okay,” you say in response to his unsaid words, speaking too late, so that it's obvious that it’s not okay.
Your heart is sinking, as if it has any right to, as if he’s in the wrong. How did you go from high to low so fast?
You scared him. You put too much pressure on him too fast- it’s exactly what Sam said, that he’s all levels of wary and weird, and little things can set him off, because of everything that he’s been through-
Even if he was someone else, though, even if he was normal, he would still say no- anyone would say no to being given such a request out of nowhere.
Well, Rina didn’t, but she doesn’t count in this situation, does she?
“Sorry,” he says.
That hurts worse.
“Don’t apologize,” you say quickly. “It’s not like it’s not going to work now- I mean, it’ll be fine. Are you still down to meet, though?”
“Sure,” he says, too late.
***
Bucky Barnes does not like anything in his coffee.
He takes it black, black like his clothes, black like his soul, black like whatever other emo shit you can come up with.
It’s not that funny anymore.
Still, you keep up with it- you’re funny and talkative and charming and everything else, because you don’t know what else to do. The subject will be broached, it’s inevitable- you’ll broach it, even, but you still have to figure out how.
He’s subdued. And wearing his stupid hat, again, and you would give anything to knock it off so you could really see him, and he’s cautiously cradling his mug in a way that makes you ache everywhere.
The cafe is busy and decorated with a specific aesthetic, one that you would call manufactured bohemian. Potted plants and quirky photographs and drinks that all have fancy and ridiculous names. The baristas wear yellow aprons, and if you have a membership card, every tenth purchase gets you a free sugar cookie iced with a smiling sun.
Your cappuccino foam is dissolving. Sometimes, even though it’s mostly tasteless, you swipe it up and eat it with a spoon. Today, it seems like a bad idea- frivolous in the face of his silence and your unmotivated charisma and this stupid idea lingering between you two, like a friend that’s overstayed their welcome.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, and wonder why you feel so jumpy for saying it. “For bringing that thing up yesterday.”
To your own credit, you still sound confident.
He looks at you so darkly that you wonder if you should be afraid. Have there ever been others in your seat, afraid?
You’re not afraid.
“It’s fine,” he says, and continues staring at you like it’s not fine.
“I’m just- I was just thinking out loud,” you say. You feel like you have to explain yourself, prove something to him, so that you won’t wilt. “It was just an idea that I thought could be cool. I told you because, no , wait. I mean, I know that I- fuck. I’m sorry that it made you uncomfortable. That was really dumb of me.”
He tilts his head, eyes sliding over, and you shiver.
He looks bored.
Which is unnerving and terrifying as hell, because you have this carefully hand-crafted, precisely-cut image of who you are supposed to be, and it is not meant to be boring in the slightest, but he's bored, and you’re going to lose it.
“I said it’s fine,” he says, monotonously, giving the sudden impression that he’s about to leave. But he’s just sitting in his seat, unwrapping his hands from his mug and setting them on the table, while your hands are on the verge of shaking. “It didn't make me uncomfortable.”
If that was true, then you wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. You wouldn’t be stumbling over yourself to say something so simple.
It takes considerable effort to keep your gaze steady. “Okay. But I still- I just want to say a thing really quick.”
“Say it.”
He’s being mean.
But this thing has been eating at you for a while now, so you don’t care.
“Um, so, we’re really different people,” you start, and before you second-guess it, you adopt your speaker voice, the teaching voice, the smart one. He has to know this about you- you’re smart. “And you obviously have all of your own things going on in your life that I can’t even imagine, and if you ever want to, like, talk about it, I’m here, but I also don’t care.”
He raises an eyebrow.
You push on.
“Like, it’s not important to me. If you want it to be, then it’ll be, but if not, then it’s whatever. I'm not- when I see you, I just see you. Does that make sense? Like, I don’t really think of any of that other stuff? If I’m supposed to, though, I’m sorry. I… I don’t even know what I’m saying.”
You don’t get nervous often, but you let out a small, nervous laugh.
It’s like your heart and head and lungs are suspended, frozen in ice while he takes your words in. The door to the cafe chimes and a large group of people step in. Middle aged women, all wearing athletic clothes. Devil’s ivy grows on the wall farthest from you- how chic- with vines snaking forward in your direction, reaching for you in green and streaky white.
He smiles.
All you see is teeth and creased eyes and a low, uncreased brow- you want to kiss him.
“Tell me the idea again,” he says, and leans back in his seat. He crosses his arms, and you watch his forearms shift and strain against his shirt, and then you clear your throat and look away and try to focus.
You inhale and gather everything, hoping that this time, you’ll be able to make it make sense.
***
One thing spirals into another. Your words were building and building, rising like a crescendo, overwhelming you to the point where you just said it outright, and-
He’s now in your apartment.
He is literally in your apartment.
You watch him survey the area- the clutter, the mismatched furniture, the crooked posters and photos and artwork hung up on the walls. The subpar paint on the walls that you didn’t choose, the cabinets made of old wood with newly replaced handles.
The entire place is creaking, becoming worse for the wear with each passing day. You could probably afford nicer, but it doesn’t matter, because you love it here- you’ve formed an emotional attachment that goes beyond sad paint and constant repairs. Your home is cozy.
But right now, with Bucky in here, it’s suddenly cramped.
“I want you to sit over here,” you say, and facing a great window, rounded on top with those gorgeous little decorative swirls, which is your favorite part of the whole place, is an armchair. It’s a steal you found at an antique store, with little tassels lining the back of the seat, upholstered with the tackiest floral print you’ve ever seen, but it’s perfect for what you’re trying to do.
The sun is shining strong and unfiltered- he’ll be lit up.
Bucky sits. He looks on edge, and beautiful.
You want to make this easy for him. But you might be too swept away in him to make any efforts- you’re still in shock that he agreed to this in the first place, so disoriented with him being here, in your place, that your trains of thought keep on derailing.
You’re closer than you wish you were, closer to losing it.
“Perfect. Give me one second.”
You go to your room, which isn’t really a room but a sectioned-off alcove with a bit of wall blocking it from view, no door- weird architecture, but whatever, to retrieve your supplies. Tape and the neatly folded swatches of fabric and your camera.
Photography isn’t your thing, but you need reference material.
When you return, he’s looking pensive, and dazzling. His arms fall tensely on the sides of the chair, but his hands dangle so gracefully, and the light catches his face and colors it golden- you are going to lose it when it comes to painting his eyes. They’re blue, but you see them as suns.
“You look great,” you say, and he blushes. You’re ready to pounce, right now.
The fabric is a little bit awkward. It has to be draped upon him- Bucky bristles at your actions in a way that tells you he’s never done anything even remotely like this before, but you persist, and he lets you.
“Get out of the chair really quick.”
“Okay.”
Bucky gets out of the chair. You hop up on it, to tape the corners of the fabric to the ceiling. It’s a flimsy attempt, but they hold and flutter just fine.
He takes you by the hand to bring you back down.
“Careful,” he says, as you make the daunting two-and-a-half-foot descent, and he squeezes your hand in his gloved one before you make him sit down again.
You are buzzing with electricity. Another point to him- that was smooth.
The loose ends of the fabric are tricky, You try at first to tape them to the back of the chair, moving back behind him to reach. Bucky’s head stays perfectly still, and the chiffon looks wrong. It looks weirdly stiff.
So you drape one on him like planned, sort of dripping down his shoulder in a bunched-up purple river, and let the other hang freely, swaying a little from the fragility of the tape.
You move back around to face him.
“This is perfect,” you say, and grin, because this is finally happening. “You look perfect.”
He’s staring all intensely again. You want to come close to him, tell him how lovely he looks, straight out of a dream. You’re so pretty, you almost say, but you have some semblance of rational thought left in you- and so you stay quiet.
The camera dangles from its strap around your neck. You take it in your hands and power it on. The settings are adjusted, and you fiddle with the shutter speed and focus and everything else before bringing it close to your eye, expecting this dream-
He’s all tense, again.
It’s the lens, you immediately think, even though that doesn’t really make sense. You look like- you look like him when he does his things. Lenses and targets and crosshairs. How is this thought so immediate?
You’re just trying to take a picture.
“Relax,” you say, and it does absolutely nothing.
“I am relaxed,” he bites out.
He’s really not. There’s something shifting in his face, something discontented, a brewing storm. His hands are starting to harshly curl into the armrests, digging at the upholstery, distorting the flowers.
The chiffon looms.
“Fix your hands. Like, move them- no, turn them back,”
You’re stooping over to fully capture him, almost ready to take a knee.
His hands flex and stay as they are, stressed and taut and not right, and the rest of him is still so-
You bring the camera down.
***
He’s in this ugly chair, surrounded by fabric, and you’re pretty and wearing a pale pink sweater, and you’re aiming a camera at him, for a picture, but he feels like a target.
White-hot adrenaline and cold and dark dread pull at both sides of him. He feels like a total mess.
Is this they all felt- how they all feel, when he is aiming at them? He tries to do things differently, now, but the tragedy still takes place, the trigger is still fired- the deed is still done. Karma, he thinks, retracing its path, coming back to bite him through you.
You’re frowning. He wants to apologize.
You take the camera down and let it dangle from the strap at your neck. He just had your hands in his- he wants them back and wants to get as far away from you as possible.
“This isn’t working,” you say, and straighten back up, placing your hands on your hips. You look powerful, and he might be trembling from clenching his jaw so hard. “You are not relaxed.”
“I’m not,” he agrees, and you sigh and fix him with a look that isn’t pity- he’d bolt if it were pity, but steely resolve.
You take the camera off your neck, and gently bend over to set it on the floor. Then you sit down beside it, wincing as your knee makes a noise, and giving him a bemused little smile that he wants to just-
Your head level with his knees as you sit, cross-legged. Hands splayed over your lower thighs, careless and carefree. Your posture slouches a bit, relaxing the way he is not, and it's relieving.
His hands grip the chair like a lifeline.
“Why isn’t this working?” You ask, more yourself than him. “You were so- nevermind. Or, Let’s… um, wait. Maybe- Can I?”
He’s always thought of you as so put-together, a born speaker, but now you’ve been stammering and stuttering all over his heart, and he doesn’t know what to do.
You reach out with your hand, hesitantly, wavering. The scar smiles pink.
He nods- his head nods, his body is moving outside of itself, and he feels sheltered and exposed, nearly covered in purple fabric and vulnerable and sitting above you, all of him bared for you to see. Hot and cold.
Your hand goes on his knee.
He’s so alarmed that he almost lashes out- he wants to think, but you’re giving him no time to-
Your other hand is reaching out, tugging at his own, and you bring yourself up to your knees and lean back on the balls of your feet, balancing. Your head is still below his chest and tilted so he can’t see your eyes, and you’re holding his hand like it’ll break.
There’s a dry-erase board fastened on the opposite wall, next to all of the other eclectic clutter. It’s filled in with a to-do list- the words COOK SOMETHING are scrawled at the top in angry red marker. He focuses on the words as you play with his fingers.
You gently trace a thumb over the ridges of his knuckles; he’s suddenly so ticklish that he flinches and chokes on a word that he doesn’t know how to say.
You nudge his hand over to the side, drape the fingers down, and your other hand is still burning his knee, setting him alight-
You’re molding him. Setting him to look how you want, manhandling him in the softest way possible. Should this feel violating? Rude? It feels good- purposeful. He’s letting you do this, and his heart is beating hard, but he can still hear your breathing and his breathing and the white noise of the traffic on the street below, stories away.
You take your hand off his knee, and nudge at his left hand, and he thinks now, how fucking stupid this is- if it’s his fucking hand, why does he wear this stupid fucking glove?
He goes to work it off and you understand, and if he wasn’t wanting so badly to be still for you, stay here as you take your picture, he would grab you by the necklace you’re wearing and drag you closer.
The glove is pulled off and dropped to the floor and the silver of his hand winks in the sunlight.
“Oh,” you say softly, and there’s a crack in your voice, and his voice would crack too, if you asked him to speak.
There’s this look on your face. He doesn’t know if you want to hold his hand or kiss it or put his fingers in your mouth, it looks like all three and he is all unfurled, too, because he is sitting back in this ugly armchair and you’re holding his hands again, and you’re backlit by the sun- like a vision sent straight from the sky.
You fix his hands.
This feels intimate- more intimate than kissing, or anything else. This feels like skipping steps.
After a moment, you pry your hands off of his, and lean back.
Wordlessly, you take the camera and stand up, and you fiddle it and back up, back to where you were at first, far away. Then you’re bringing it close to your eye, looking at him through a lens, and the shutter clicks once, twice.
You bring it back down.
“You got it?” He says, and his voice sounds rough- he sounds parched.
You look at its little screen and bite your lip. “Yeah.”
“Can you come here for a second?”
You look up at him and he’s glad that he couldn’t see your eyes before- they’re dark. “Yeah.”
The camera is tossed to the side, again, and you walk like you’re floating. The steps have been skipped, but Bucky will have to go back to them anyway- he doesn’t like to leave any stones unturned-
And so he waits until you’re close enough, and then tugs you down by your sweater- he doesn’t want to hurt you, and he’s reaching and reaching-
You laugh or smile or do something else sweet, but he’s too caught up to tell. He pulls you down to him, and surrounded by you and sunlight and fluttering purple chiffon, he kisses you.
#i am crazy for writing this much#i will so tenderly kiss your hands if you read this whole thing#i will give you all my love if you like it#i will passionately french kiss you for 45 minutes if you reblog!!!#lots of shit happens in this chapter i don't remember writing any of it#but i hope you all like it#ok back to normal tags#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x reader#reader insert#artist!reader#bucky barnes x artist!reader#imagine#bucky barnes imagine#reader imagine#bucky barnes self insert#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes/reader#also on ao3#fic#marvel fic#avengers fic#Bucky Barnes#steve rogers#avengers
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Hi! Could you maybe recommend some music, I keep listening to the same three songs and would love to find something new, doesn't have to be a specific genre. Also, you're blog is wonderful!
omg this is so sweet my heart is 🥺 rn but also, idk how much I can help because I also genuinely will listen to one song for an entire week straight and haven’t had a ton of time to find new music lately! but here’s some genre breakdowns of artists I love and some songs by them, or just individual tunes:
[edit: sorry this got insanely long!! I can maybe link spotify playlists if I ever get around to making some ‘:) but tl;dr my fave artists are frank ocean, sigrid, hozier, ben howard, cezinando, khalid, childish gambino, nas, lorde, the lumineers, rhcp, girl in red and travis scott]
1. guitar/rock indie-arcade fire: neighbourhood #3, the well and the lighthouse, we exist, afterlife, the suburbs, ready to start, SUBURBAN WAR!! (listen to the entire suburbs album if you want to feel rlly nostalgic about ur childhood)-ben howard (my favourite artist ever, I saw him live and it was phenomenal): rivers in your mouth, time is dancing, I forget where we were, only love, black flies, oats in the water, she treats me well, towing the line, follaton wood-rhcp (long time fave): under the bridge, by the way, californiacation, scar tissue, otherside, goodbye angels, dani California, snow (hey oh), tell me baby-city and colour (another old fave who I’ve also seen live and is amazing!! if you like hozier and the lumineers you’d like him, a bit of a less intense sound though): sleeping sickness, what makes a man, waiting…, constant knot, the golden state, killing time, wasted love, runaway, map of the world, blood, the grand optimist :’), northern wind, hello I’m in delaware-the scientist by coldplay.. if u haven’t been emo about this song since 2003 wyd-haven’t listened to her in forever but cosmic love by florence + the machine >>-girl in red (her music is great but her LYRICS r literally my soul): i wanna be your girlfriend, summer depression, i need to be alone, 4am, girls, say anything, bad idea, i’ll die anyway, we fell in love in october-harry styles: adore you, fine line, golden, sunflower vol. 6, sweet creature, lights up, to be so lonely, sign of the times, HIS COVER OF ULTRALIGHT BEAM-hozier (ANOTHER fave, fucking insane live too. sir ily): work song, in the woods somewhere, sedated, cherry wine, almost (sweet music) [song equivalent to a warm summer evening], movement !! holy f-, as it was, be, wasteland baby!-broken by lovelytheband-the lumineers (my guys!!!!): cleopatra, sleep on the floor, angela, long way from home, sick in the head, my eyes, white lie, donna, salt and the sea, slow it down, stubborn love-where’s my love by syml-mitski: washing machine heart, old friend, nobody, lonesome love-sam roberts band: bridge to nowhere, brother down, if you want it-saturn by sleeping at last-sufjan stevens: mystery of love, visions of Gideon (I don’t stan cmbyn but literally these two songs are the only thing I listened to from dec 2017 to feb 2018), the hidden river of my life, futile devices, Vesuvius-love will tear us apart cover by susanna and the magical orchestra-vance joy: mess is mine, Georgia, my kind of man, Saturday sun, we’re going home, lay it on me, take your time, I’m with you !!, like gold, crashing into you-remember when by wallows !!!
2. chill indie/pop-billie eilish: idontwannabeyouanymore, ilomilo, my strange addiction, bury a friend-cezinando (also my fave artist, and noen ganger is probs my fave album of all time): ingenting blir det samme men samme for meg, selv du, haper du har plass (if u can make it thru this song w/o crying on public transportation you are much stronger than I), tommolen pa vekta, er dette alt, usynlig-sigrid (the LOML and my other fave artist- seeing her live was the best day of my life no cap): dynamite, plot twist, fake friends, strangers, don’t feel like crying, raw, focus, I don’t want to know, her cover of sex by the 1975 changed my life fr, mine right now, BASIC !!!!!, in vain, never mine [this is highkey bc I’m a bonafide sigrid stan but I cannot recommend her ENOUGH she has one of the most incredible voices ever, is an insanely talented songwriter, and her music is so hype and beautiful and yeah :’)]-khalid (I love his voice sm, also the ceo of vibes): bad luck, cold blooded, 8teen, my bad, better, hundred, Saturday nights, suncity-run by elsa and emilie-lorde (my bby): bravado, buzzcut season, the love club, the louvre, supercut, 400 lux, ribs, white teeth teens, a world alone-fy faen by hkeem & temur (have been listening to this song for 3 yrs straight no cap)-btstu by jai paul-8896 by lapsley-joji: slow dancing in the dark, will he-moon by kid francesoli-aloha by mome (another all time fave)-karpe diem: hvite menn som pusher 50, lett a vaere rebell i kjellerleiligheten din, gunerius, spis din syvende sans-astrid s: 2AM matoma remix (one of my fave songs ever tbh), hurts so good !!!, such a boy-myth by beachhouse -mgmt: kids, electric feel-nostalgi 3millioner by tomine harket & unge Ferrari -lykke li: sex money feelings die (did I listen to this song for 5 months straight last year? hm), I follow rivers-one direction (ofc): story of my life, 18, night changes, drag me down, literally all of Take Me Home which is unequivocally their best album I will take no criticism on that-berlin by ry x-dancing with a stranger by sam smith and normani-taylor swift (not rlly a fan but wowww some of her songs): call it what you want !!!!, false god, begin again, all you had to do was stay, clean-kamikaze by Susanne sundfor-tame impala: let it happen (the og and the soulwax remix), the less I know the better, gossip-head over heels by tears for fears-somebody else by the 1975 (apparently I was the only one who only discovered this song in 2019 but it’s like all I listened to from October-December)
3. rap & rnb-brockhampton: rental !!!, face, bleach, sweet-childish gambino: ii. zealots of stockholm, heartbeat, les, the “hardbone with a hard r” remix of bonfire and redbone drooooool-drake (yikes dude but ngl. chill bops): feel no ways, u with me?, hold on we’re going home, passionfruit, you and the 6-vince staples: bagbak, lift me up, norf norf-frank ocean (LOML frank I’d die for you. also my fave artist *proceeds to list his entire discography*): SEIGFRIED!!!!, songs 4 women, nights, chanel, ivy, thinkin bout you, sweet life, pyramids, lost, bad religion, pink matter, forrest gump, in my room, swim good, dust, american wedding, provider-jorja smith: blue lights, february 3rd, on your own-ransom by lil tecca-nas (fave to end all faves): take it in blood, represent, the message, halftime, affirmative action, street dreams, one love, hate me now, cherry wine, new world-mobb deep: hell on earth, survival of the fittest, party over, shook ones pt ii-travis scott: (astroworld is the only thing I listened to summer-fall 2018 no cap) astrothunder, coffee bean, Yosemite, butterfly effect, houstonfornication, skeletons, stop trying to be god, stargazing, highest in the room-kanye (don’t roast me for this): can’t tell me nothing, ultralight beam, fade, hold my liquor-drip too hard by lil baby-(all a product of tiktok) bop, toes, suge, panini remix by da baby-migos (lmao): notice me, slippery, pure water-walk man by tmg sfdjhfkdjfsdfs-go loko by YG-the weeknd: reminder, as you are, hurt you, privilege, tell your friends, starboy, sidewalks, high for this
(I also love old school rock music but haven’t listened to it much since highschool- my fave bands are led zeppelin, CCR, boston, fleetwood mac, pink floyd, blue oyster cult, styx, the who)
#i am. sorry.#also me making this realizing how intensely my music taste is based off tv shows. ok one tv show fsdhsdfjfdshkjfd#asks#long post#music
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My thoughts on the Dean Ambrose situation.
I may be wrong, but this just doesn’t make sense to me. I’ve been a wrestling fan too long to believe that WWE would announce that Deans contract isn’t getting renewed.
WWE has never done this in recent years, even going back to last year when Neville walked out and left his contract to expire, we all knew yet WWE never announced it until it did.
Just last night on Raw it looked like we were going to potentially see a storyline building between Hunter and Dean. Dean has given so much to this company, up until last year Dean was the one on the main roster who had competed in the most matches.(house shows,TV and PPV’s)
Dean has done almost everything there is in WWE, except win a rumble and headline Wrestlemania. He was the first member of the shield to become a grand slam champion and the longest reigning US champion.
WWE has been booked around Ambrose,Reigns and Rollins. It’s obvious that those three guys are who the McMahon’s can call upon and are always on TV. They’ve always been sure to call on those guys and make sure that they aren’t forgotten.
There’s always been so much hype between the three shield guys. Dean is a multiple IC champion and multiple tag champ. He’s held the US title, money in the bank contract and WWE championship.
He’s a part of the most popular stable of this century, if not the entirety of the WWE.
He’s gained two lifelong friends,his brothers and his wife from this company, and when the shield was coming up they had control in what the shield was gonna do.
I just don’t see how in 7 years, Dean doesn’t have more control now than then.
We all know Dean is so intelligent when it comes to his charector.
Yeah, this recent run from October has been shitty. But how in three months could he just decide to leave? Why not just sit down and talk to Vince and explain how he’s feeling? If it was a simple character change or more character control he was wanting, do you not think Vince would do that to keep one of his top guys? Of course he would. Someone like Zack Ryder or Curt Hawkins(ily boys) I don’t think he would. But fucking Dean Ambrose? Of course he would. The guy is a top draw and part of The Shield.
Deans spoken before about how he’s glad he got out of the Indy’s because of what his Moxley charector had to go through just to be Mox and how he couldn’t do that now.
I think this is a work, especially because of what happened on Raw last night, with him getting in Hunters face and just being ruthless and not caring. Then the potential pipe bomb that was cut off by Nia Jax.
If Dean was going to throw a pipe bomb and stayed in the ring longer than he was meant to, they would’ve sent Nia out during commercial or he would’ve cut one during commercial.
WWE wouldn’t have announced him leaving so soon, espically with Wrestlemania coming up where they need their top guys to build storylines around and sell tickets. Out of WWE’s main roster, their top draws are Becky, Daniel, AJ and Charlotte. On Raw it’s Seth,Dean, Roman, Finn, Ronda and Brock.
Ronda and Brock are draws for the casual fans. The ones who just tune in because they know who they are.
There’s Roman, who unfortunately can’t be a mania this year and potentially next. He was the face of the company and will be again. I want my big dog back more than ever.
There’s Daniel who everyone loves, because how can you hate the guy? He was everyones number one for so long. Hell, the evil vegan is even starting to get over.
There’s Charlotte,Finn and AJ who people love just for their pure wrestling ability and how well they work in the ring.
There’s Becky and Seth, who rn is everyone’s favourite, they’re at the top of their games and are getting that treatment or else fans would riot.
Then there’s Dean, the guy who has fought and fought and fought for his entire life, to get to where he is. Who was hooked on drugs and lost his first chance at the WWE because of it, then he changed up his act. He shouldn’t have made it, but he did. The WWE gave him that chance and he proved everyone wrong. The fans love him.
WWE would be silly to loose him and to announce it on social media where everyone knows, espically with All Elite Wrestling just being announced. It’d be like Vince just being like,”there’s one of my top guys, go take him.” He isn’t that stupid.
I think it’s a work, I think it’s leading up to Dean bringing out more mox, where he doesn’t care who he hurts, who he insults, he’s telling the truth and he’s gonna fight for what he wants.
Like him saying to HHH,”you didn’t believe in him back in Florida when we were riding in a $500 car. You just thought he was some hot shot, but I believed in him!” Hello, why would this new Dean charector admit to believing in Seth when he’s meant to hate his guts? When he demanded a match from Hunter and when he seen hunter walking away, just to follow him threw the ropes and be like,”Do you need to ask for permission from your father in law?” Dude, that’s totally just to get a reaction from Hunter and to wind Hunter up. It’s a typical feud starter what they did.
I think this is leading up to something at Mania, I think it’s to somehow bring out more of the Dean we know Jon can create and portray. Why would he give up 8 years with a company over 3 months of a character he doesn’t like? It doesn’t make sense.
I think their plan is to get rid of this Dean that’s a germaphobe by introducing more pipe bombs, more attitude towards athourity figures and just beating the shit out of people. Cause what are they gonna do? Suspend him? Fire him? Dude will be “leaving” before mania so what’s the point?
I think they’re going with the storyline of Dean Ambrose being pissed he doesn’t get what he deserves, he’s been treated like dirt and always been a third when it comes to Seth and Roman. Vince has always believed in Roman, HHH’s first NXT baby is Seth and Hunter will always have Seth’s back. Hunter was the reason Dean lost the shield the first time around. And he never got the pay back for that. Seth and Roman have both versed HHH at Mania, why not have Dean do it as well.
They said they were bringing in a new era into WWE, what better way to do it then have it feel more real by having Dean Ambrose of all people cutting loose and being Mox? To have a hardcore match at Mania against the creator of the attitude era and the guy who we all wish could’ve been a part of it.
What if it’s just a way for WWE to slowly say goodbye to the PG era by having Hunter and a more ruthless Ambrose going one on one at Mania?
I just, i don’t think WWE would announce it so soon. Especially with a star like dean.
I could be in denial, but I won’t believe this until I see it with my own two eyes.
I don’t think Dean would show up in another wrestling company either, he’s far too loyal for that shit.
Also, adding this in because idgaf and my shield heart called for it. Do you really think he’d give up his wrestling soulmate and best friend, his brothers? They’ve got an unbreakable bond. They’ve all said when they retire from wrestling they wanna do it together in a last shield triple threat. That’s how much they care about each other, they joined the main roster together and want to leave it together.
They’re the boys who all held the wwe title on the same night,I just don’t see this bond being broken because of something as little as a charecters development.
#Dean Ambrose#roman reigns#seth rollins#HHH#I could be wrong#i hope im not#cause i dont wanna loose my baby#nicola rambles
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do all the positivity things
ONE: Positivity for the first person who comes up when you do @ and the first letter of your name/alias
@beguilcd amber is so so sweet and so so nice, and it’s such an honor to get to write with her and also to see her treat a character that is so close to my heart with such care is just incredible. the mulan of my heart! and of petra’s heart. i love her a lot :”)
UNO: Positivity for the first person who comes up when you do @ and the first letter of your muse’s name/alias
@pxtienceisavirtue skye is a fantastic writer. i honestly… literally.. have no clue who all her muses are but i would legit follow her to the end of the world anyway that’s how amazing skye is.
UN: Positivity for the first person you remember shipping with ( in general or on this muse )
well on this blog that would be the loml tiff, who isn’t on indie anymore. but ? let me ramble about her for a sec. because i can. she is the gina to my yael, my wife my sister, the joanne to my maureen, i cannot even begin to say how much i love her and how much her presence in my life has been such a positive influence and just. i love her. my life is a thousand times better because she’s in it. tiff has always always been the one person who has consistently made me feel so loved, and never ever makes me doubt it. she loves me and truly cares about me, beyond rp beyond.. u know.. she checks on me no matter how busy her life gets and all that stuff and that’s just evERYTHING to me. i’d fight the whole world for her.
EINS: Positivity for the first person who messaged you in 2018
@hasmercy dis bish likes to bully me a lot, but i love her. so frudgin much. i mean find you a friend who is your personal social media alarm for whenever your fave (in my case yael) posts anything on instagram. it sounds so little but the sentiment behind it means so much tho? the fact that she takes the time, to link me to show me something she knows would make me happy? because she knows it’s something i love? that’s precious. that means she thought of me? remembered me? :”) that aside tho, dana is also a wonderful, steadfast friend and i appreciate that so much.
ETT: Positivity for the first person who comes up when you do @ and your favorite letter
@asperad so jess, is one of my favs ever? like. jess has always been such a sweetheart to me, who leaves me little, feel better messages during the …occasional negativity post i make and liKE. it might seem like such a small simple gesture but… i?? just when you’re having a really hard time, getting a message? knowing someone cares to send that tiny little positivity your way? it means so much esp when you’re at such a low point, u know? and i appreciate that u do so frequently more than i can say. loveloveyou
UNUS: Positivity for the first person to come up on your dash.
@firstofficerslog is my little brother and i love him always. he’s one of the nicest people i know, who has a huge heart and genuinely cares about the people around him. he’s also incredibly strong and brave, and i appreciate his presence more than i can ever express. he was there for me a lot last year and was very supportive through an incredibly rough time in my life ?? and i’ll never forget that. if i could love him enough to make him happy always i would. and i just always want good things, the best things for him and for him to be constantly surrounded by good people who make him happy, who support and love him because he deserves that.
ODIN: Positivity for the first person listed on your “top fans” thing.
@leadershiipskills accdg to my blog, i’m your biggest fan and you’re my biggest fan! how cute are we?? :) anyway. gosh. where do i even. you’re the kind of person i could talk to for hours on end, and i wouldn’t get tired of it. u know, i love talking to you. i always have. you always take such interest in me when we talk. you ask me how i’ve been. you follow up, legit for days when you know things have been difficult for me. you give me reasons to smile for no reason at all. it means so much to me that you try and get to know me. you make me feel like i’m more than a person you write with, that i’m not only as good as whatever ships we have. you make me feel like i’m more than that. you’re curious to know who i am, what i like. you take a genuine interest in the things i do, in the things that happen in my life and i mean? i told u this before and i’ll say this again, you dont just tell me i matter, you make me feel like i matter. and i think that’s priceless. i can only hope i’m able to make you feel just as special because you truly are. i’m so lucky to have you as my friend, my mom, my twin. ilyyyyyy bab.
JEDEN: Positivity for the first person you think of.
@burnedbrighter ANGELA my sweet babe. how do i even begin to express the amount of love i have for you?? you are a TREASURE. a friend for keeps. u know, people, i feel, come and go on indie and i feel a little bit like that’s just how it is and i’ve come to accept that but you have been there, you know. through how many years. i’ve never doubted my worth to you as a friend. indie or not, i know that we’re friends, and that means more to me than anything, honestly. i hope you know how much i love you, and how much i appreciate you because i really do. ty for always making me feel loved.
EÎS: Positivity for someone you remember from when you first started your blog.
@zensolano caiti?? my sweet darlingest caiti. i’d go wherever you go, always forever you know why? because you’re an actual sunshine and ray of positivity and just the sweetest thing in the entire world! your presence lights me up, and you just, make me feel special and loved and remembered and just. coughs we all know i’m not always the hugest jafael fan depending on what’s happening lmfao but i would volunteer to scream about them alongside you, that’s how much i love you, and your cute fangirling sweet pure self. ily okay?
YKSI: Positivity for someone who has been one of your first writing partners, either on this blog or in general
@shculdbeafraid izzie, you’ve been there legit since this blog was born, i’m pretty sure? hahaha. and you’ve always been such a good friend to me, anytime that you know i’m not feeling the best, you’re always there to offer to listen and i appreciate that more than i can say. you’re wonderful and i have lots of love for you always, yeah? :)
BAT: Positivity for the first person to come up when you do @ and the letter F
@filiamatris is there anything i look forward to more than all of avery’s ooc posts tho? i think not? hahah, you’re amazing and so kind and considerate and you’re just…s ucH a caring person? and i cannot say enough how much i appreciate that, how much i appreciate having that kind of positivity in my dash is. it really, really makes all the difference. you make all the difference! you’re wonderful and amazing ilu
EKAB: Positivity for for the first person to come up when you do @ and the letter O
@ofcoldguns iK we havent talked a whole lot but you’ve become such an important part of my dash, and it’s always so nice getting to see you there and !! i appreciate anyone who appreciates one day at a time so. :”) you’re a darling and i look forward to getting to know you more!!
MOJA: Positivity for the top person in your activity bar
@likescauliflower ILSE MY LOVE. you’ve always been one of my most fav ever i mean your writing is stellar, i get to cry with you about all the things that i love aka jtv and odaat which! is always such fun! it doesn’t matter how busy you get irl, no matter how many times it takes you away from me because i will always always love you always!!!!! our love is forever just like seblair’s love is forever okay.
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it recently occurred to me that my followers don't really know me that well! you guys see me post selfies and go off on random rants but probably don't know much? lol. I have thousands of yall and I only know a couple of you guys 👀 just for the record, my name is amanda rose arena, I'm 21. I've lived in California my whole life. I have a twin brother who I love very much. I have awesome friends, a dog and a rabbit. I work at a painting company with my dad, and coach middle school bball teams over the fall n winter. I go to community college, I plan to possibly be a massage therapist or p.e teacher but who really knows! I sucked at school my entire life honestly, barely got by. I don't have a full idea of what I'll be doing the rest of my life and that's okay. I am not into materialistic things, I wear things for years at a time lol. I have never cared for a big house or expensive cars. I actually know nothing about cars..even my own. I am not obsessed with traveling like a lot of people seem to be, I do want to go to Portland though. I go to a lot of concerts, I like music of many kinds. It could range from metal to indie to electronic. Lately i've been going through an edm phase, I plan to learn how to make it too. I am only learning the basics of my keyboard and Logic Pro, but stay tuned for the future hahah. As you have probably noticed, I am gay. extremely lmao. I realized it very late, like literally after high school. I changed a lot since high school, I'd like to think for the better. I love girls so fuckin much lol. everything about them! I only had one real relationship before. I had one girlfriend that I was with for two and a half years. I talked about it many times on this blog of mine, but that is what a blog is for..right? haha. I did think I found my 'first love', and I also did experience my first heart break. this girl that I thought was my first love..broke up w me numerous times, doubted me, and I always ran back to her. the last time I ran back to her she ended up cheating on me with multiple people I know. people that were my friends, people I hung out with on a daily basis. I saw texts that she was in love with somebody else months before I even found out about this whole episode. there is no need to talk about any of that, but I'm just providing background info. basically, my first relationship ended terribly. it was ass completely. that was at the beginning of december. I am here now and Im chillin. I've met many great people since then and had many cool experiences. I've met amazing girls that I would not have gotten the chance to meet if I was still with my ex! let go of that toxic relationship if you're in one yall. I don't have nearly as much anxiety, I don't have to constantly worry about somebody leaving me. Even if somebody were to leave me I feel as if I've gained a sense of individuality and confidence. I feel like it'd be okay. I am at a decent place in my life right now, things could always get better but I am slowly moving forward. you all have a friend in me! I'm only a msg away. hope you enjoyed reading this irrelevant lil post ily bitches
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I was tagged by Makayla from @17-blackaf thank u i love you <3 xx
rules: tag 20 friends you would like to get to know better.
Nickname: indie/isa/ing
Zodiac sign: leo
Height: 5′1″ i’m an adorable oompa loompa believe me
Last thing you googled: amazon
Favorite music artist: oh lord. .apart from 1d/solo 1d is ed sheeran, bruno mars, the temper trap, alabama shakes, coldplay, i’m getting obsessed w nina simone, etc idk there’s so many
Song stuck in my head: the madeline opening theme song (in portuguese) don’t judge me i love madeline with my entire heart and soul
Last movie you watched: princess protection program.. i watched it with my mummy
What are you wearing right now: this giant tshirt & velvet purple pants.. i’m so comfy rn
What do you post: mostly harry styles and 1d. i also blog abt hp and random stuff
Why did you choose your URL: i wanted a hp + harry styles url so.. .yeah
Do you have other blogs: i have a personal one @oitavaarte but i don’t really use it
What did your last relationship teach you: i haven’t been in a romantic relationship if that’s what it means and i don’t have a lot to say abt previous friendships.. most of them ended bc i lost touch w the person
Religious or spiritual: i’d say none but i might be a little spiritual idk tbh
Favorite colour: purple!!!!!!4ever
Average hours of sleep: 6 to 8 hours
Lucky number: 8 :’)
Favorite characters: oh god this is difficult and i won’t mention hp characters bc that’s really hard so... i love hanna and aria from pll..well..i can’t even rmr what books/movies/tv shows i like now sorry . .i’m sleepy
How many blankets do you sleep with: two during the winter (sometimes) and one during the rest of the year
Dream job: i still don’t know what i want to do with my life and i’m upset lol
i’ll tag: @walkingintheamm @magic-view @narrys-town @eyy-jenny @lourrious @lovedandinlove1d @holdnarrytight @oflostandbrokenhearts @oneofhistattoos and yeah sorry i’m really sleepy rn :cc hope u all had a nice day!! <3 and plS remember,,, he’s coming. and ily.
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was tagged by @triptaech and also @97gguks thank you lovelies!!!!
lock screen + home screen + last song played (I'm so obsessed with the entire weightlifting fairy soundtrack omg i really can't get over that drama TT)
handwriting tag :> please forgive my nasty scrawls, i drew lots of hearts to make up for it :’)
task: go to this website and click for your career:
company: JYP
# of members: 6
position: maknae shit nooooooooooo idw to be bullied :’(
genre: indie (nice)
collab with: Big Bang (WTF R U 4 REAAL IM FREAKING OUT)
do you go solo: no
your scandal: sex tape (I'm fine if its with one of the bb members tbh)
years active: 1 (wtf this is so sad)
after your career: Producer (ayyyyyyy this ain’t so bad)
omg that was so fun!!!
5 THINGS TAG
5 things you’ll find in my bag
lip balm
earphones
wallet + keys
portable charger
tissue (y am i so boring)
5 things you’ll find in my bedroom
books (perks of being a lit major :/)
makeup + perfumes+ skin care (they’re all just stashed on my table sigh I'm a mess)
stationery EVERYWHERE
soft toys
laptop
5 things i’ve always wanted to do in my life
attend a music show recording
travel around Europe (i’m going so soon!!!!!)
bleach my hair and go grey (my hair is too damaged sigh)
become famous for a week
design my own clothes
5 things i’m currently into
everything about weightlifting fairy (ok I’M NOT KIDDING that drama has made me bawl like wtf)
bts (duh when am i not into them sigh)
legend of the blue sea (I'm only at ep 13 bc uni -cri-)
hand lettering/ calligraphy
makeup/ liquid lipsticks (COLORPOP)
5 things on my to do list
FINISH MY READINGS FOR SCHOOL
start writing new pieces (i have so many things i want to write but no time :’(
return a library book
sleep (always)
study..? (literally half of my to do list is school stuff it’s so not fun)
5 things people may not know about me
i wear glasses but i hate wearing them
i used to hate cucumbers so intensely that i would gag if i tasted one, but all of a sudden a few weeks ago i accidentally ate one and i liked it
i procrastinate on things bc i want them to turn out perfect (why is life so hard)
i’m learning korean
i will be studying abroad in the UK in September
this was honestly so fun!! thank you sam for tagging me ily <3
i’m tagging: @97gguks @bangtaninink @btssmutgalore @poofyyoongi @bashfulbts have fun my lovelies!!!
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