Request: I had a request for Bucky where they are like bff’s and are pining after each other and one of their feelings accidentally gets hurt but eventually they get together. @kmwiinchester
Word Count: 1,669
A/N: I hope this is close to what you were looking for! I think I got a bit carried away, but I like how this one turned out.
“You can’t aim for shit.”
“If you don’t shut up right now, I’m going to shove this cue
“Alright, kids. Play nice.” Steve’s shadow fell over the
pool table, effectively blocking your view. You glared up at him, brow quirked.
He stepped back with his hands up in a defensive position. He knew how you and
Bucky were when it came to pool and he wasn’t about to get in the way of that.
It was a serious game for serious people, and you were one striped ball away
from winning fifty bucks. Steve watched you with his arms crossed, eyes
flickering between you and Bucky.
You were fairly good at pool, and an even better hustler.
You and Bucky actually made a good team- he was big and buff, and every time
the two of you went to bars he was the first one at the table being challenged
by other guys who were big and buff. Then you swooped in and pretended to be a
cute little princess, when in reality you could kill every single one of them
with a cue ball if you wanted to. You and Bucky won tons of money from hustling
bikers, much to Steve’s chagrin. What could you say, you had skill. You could
hit any ball from any angle into any hole on the first try. It was no contest
who would win, but dammit if whoever you were playing against didn’t try.
Bucky, on the other hand, was a little shit and a dirty cheat.
You held the cue between your fingers, aiming the white ball
to hit a shiny red one when you felt something graze along your sides. Your
body stiffened and you tried to ignore the feeling of Bucky’s fingers gliding over
your ribs. He was trying to distract you and Goddamn was it working. He was
aiming for a tickle, something to make you jump, but you just wanted to lean
into it. Your heart was in your throat, thumping loudly against your skull, and
it had very little to do with the very important shot you were about to take.
Okay, sure. Bucky was your best friend, and that’s all he’d
ever been, but you’d be lying if you said you never thought of him throwing you
on the pool table and-
“Don’t miss.” His breath was hot on your ear and your eyes
closed involuntarily, teeth gritting and hands tightening around the cue. You
shot him a look and he chuckled, taking half a step back. Your shoulders
squared and you tried to focus again, but he was still too damn close. This hadn’t
happened before- not once. But, then again, you weren’t usually playing against
him. He usually stood on the other side of the table and cheered you on, not
standing at your side to taunt you.
“Bucky, I swear to God,” you threatened, tongue between your
“I didn’t do anything,” he defended. “Just try not to suck.”
“I hate you.” You rolled your eyes, adjusting your footing
and shrugging a stiff shoulder. It was taking an unusually long time for you to
hit the ball, and Bucky seemed to sense it. He backed off, rounding the table
toward the bar. Steve was already leaning on it by now, a drink of (rather
useless, really) scotch in hand. Bucky went to getting one of his own and you
stood up fully. Now that the haze of having Bucky right at your side was gone,
it became easier to focus. You went to fixing your shot, eaves dropping on the
“You two are really needling each other today,” Steve noted.
“You fight like an old married couple.”
Bucky grimaced as he took a swallow from his glass, but not
because of its contents. “Not even. I’d die before I let myself marry her.”
“Ouch,” Steve laughed. “Looks like you two are well on your
way, if you ask me. I keep waiting for you to pull a fast one.”
You were bent over the table again, frozen while you listened.
You were staring forward at the cue ball, but your attention was on them. Your
head tilted down, eyes dropping to the green surface just in front of your
face. “No chance in hell,” Bucky was saying. You bit the inside of your cheek,
realizing what it meant. “I’d rather the Hulk sat on me.”
“That’s harsh.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest and
“You started it.” Bucky jabbed Steve with his finger. “Suggesting
I make a move on her, that’s disgusting. You should be ashamed.”
They were laughing when you shot the ball. They both turned
to look, watching as the cue ball slammed into the shiny red ball, sending it
spinning. It missed the hole by a few inches and both their brows shot up in surprise.
Bucky grinned, standing up to join you at the table. You shoved the cue at his
chest, turning your back to him and starting for the door. “Ask Steve to play
the next game, I’m going to bed.”
“(Y/N), it’s noon.” Bucky’s long strides caught up to you
before you could reach the door and he grabbed your arm, turning you around to
face him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” It sounded a lot harsher than you meant for it to
be, and Bucky winced. His hand on your arm relaxed, but he didn’t let go. Your
eyes flickered to Steve, who had his back to you and was pretending not to
notice. Then you locked eyes with Bucky again, suddenly aware of how close he
was. Again. His chest was practically right in your face, head tilted down to
look at you with those giant, beautiful eyes of his. You cursed yourself,
feeling inadequate and stupid. Of course, he would say that there’s no chance
in hell for you but you couldn’t stop yourself from having feelings for the
idiot. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” His voice was soft, a tone you knew he
reserved only for you. A quiet whisper that only you could hear, that calmed
your nerves and made you think that maybe, just maybe, there was something else
between you. But, there wasn’t. He had just said so. “Was it something I said?”
He looked hurt. And dammit if you didn’t hate that look. You
had your fair share of slightly-mean things to say about him and he would
always pretend like you hurt his feelings, but when he was genuinely hurt, it
was different. It wasn’t playful or fun anymore and all you wanted to do now
was hide. You could lie to him, say you weren’t feeling well. Blame cramps or
headaches or something, but dammit. You hated to lie to him and didn’t want to
start now- “I, uh,” you stuttered, unsure what to say.
“Too much?” His hand slid down your arm a bit, but remained
firm. “I didn’t mean that, you know that right?”
“Yeah, I…” you shrugged, trying to stop your eyes from
watering. “I know.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, shoulders dropping. “I was just
fooling around, I didn’t mean I wouldn’t kiss you-“ Bucky’s eyes widened a bit
and he let go of your arm, immediately stepping back as confusion wormed itself
on your expression. “I meant. I wouldn’t, but… I wouldn’t not. It was just
“You two are going to give me an aneurism,” Steve swiveled
in his chair, looking thoroughly annoyed. “Seriously? Please don’t make me say
“Say what?” The desire to run and hide was overshadowed by
curiosity and confusion. Bucky pushed his hair out of his face, breathing a
huff of air. His eyes scanned your face, like he was analyzing a threat, and he
chewed absently on his lip. “Bucky?”
“I may or may not, let’s not point fingers here,” he
started, looking incredibly uneasy. You shifted from one foot to another. “Have
slightly less than platonic feelings for you.”
You stared blankly at him, trying to process what he had
said. He was frozen too, waiting for your response, and when he got none, his
face fell and he nodded. Assuming you either found that incredibly strange or
didn’t return the feelings, he let go of your arm and turned to leave. But you
snapped out of your daze and reached for him, grabbing the hand that let you
“I, uh.” Your mouth was dry, now, and you focused hard on
the hand in yours. Slightly calloused, but soft and comforting. He didn’t pull his hand away, fingers wrapped
around yours. Not tight, but not loosely either. “Might have similar…Feelings.”
Bucky was grinning then, and his hand did tighten at your
words. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping one arm around your waist. “That
“I think so, yeah,” you laughed. Bucky seemed to have an
idea then, because he let you go and turned, grabbing two forgotten cues
leaning on the wall and thrusting one into your hands. Your brow rose and he
led you toward the table, one arm over your shoulders. “What are we doing?”
“Rematch,” he said, gathering the balls from the pockets.
You watched him set them up and then he came back around to stand in front of
you. You smiled up at him, heart pounding again. You doubted it would ever stop.
“What do I win when I kick your ass?” You twirl the cue in
your hands, quirking a brow up at him.
“If, by the grace
of God you actually manage to pull off that miracle,” he teased. “Then you get
to kiss me. But when I show you who’s the boss- it’s me, I’m the boss- then I
get to kiss you.”
A grin split your face and you heard Steve let out an
annoyed groan from the other end of the room. Bucky stuck out his hand for a
handshake and you took it, holding onto him a bit longer than necessary. “Bring
it on, cupcake.”
I didn’t scan more magazines because I am too enamoured of my Acchan doll and been spending time on him instead. It has taken me over two years , actually closer to 3 years to realize this dream.
Though he still needs tweaking and is not complete yet, I couldn’t resist posing him and taking pictures. My aim for this custom doll project was for a 2003-2004 version of Atsushi Sakurai. I am still waiting for the accessories like wig, eyes, clothes to make that happen. But meanwhile on borrowed threads (clothes from Ringdoll Sol and Lucifer, wig from Ringdoll Mohyu which I nervously cut, etc etc), I managed a 1990′s sort of Acchan.
The Acchan head is a custom sculpt which has taken months to produce, from sculpt to cast to face up. I also had to order like 10 Acchan heads to make this happen ;-), so at the moment I am swimming in Acchan heads :-D !! Though a couple of people have shared in this project, I still have half a dozen Acchan heads. I can’t afford bodies for all of them, so may display them as busts ;-) ???? ie when I can afford the busts and yeah,more clothes for Acchan doll….
Meanwhile here is my dream almost realized, a 70cm custom Acchan bjd. Custom sculpt on a ringdoll rgm-3 body.
Pretty long talk about the Shirt Club episode of SU
Doing a “little talk” about the latest episode of Steven Universe because I really feel I need to having in mind I have an extremly distant relationship with my own father, so I had some found feelings on this, also, excuse my english becuase I been told, sometimes is hard read my stuff.
I keep seeing people throwing around the ball of blame between Buck and Dewey about who was more jerk about the whole thing.
Is Dewey a bad distant father that doesn’t care for his son’s interests and only on his mayor duties? or is it Buck a selfish teenager that don’t try giving his parent a chance and reflected those feelings on Steven’s relationship with his dad?
You can actually say is a bit of both and also not.
We have already seen that Buck clearly is resentful about his dad don’t putting him enough attention from the episode of “Lars and the cool kids”, so yes, Dewey probably has put certlainly a lot of attention on his mayor career than his relationship with his son and that he probably don’t understand a lot of the things he is interested now as a teenager.
Dewey is a politician and we can see he has great interest in trying to
be the best mayor he can, yeah he is awkward, nervious and likely not
the very best mayor the city has had, but he honestly try to keep things
in orden even if he can’t save face from people noticing he is quite a
That’s why this is exactly why I feel he really love Buck but he is just a huge mess that doesn’t know how to express it
Dewey keep a huge box filled with copies of a draw his son made probably around Steven’s age for one of his campaigns.
We don’t know how many times Dewey has been mayor of Beach City, we don’t know if he has been actually re-elected before right now, or if the “Buck Dewey” from “Story For Steven” was Dewey’s father and likely previous mayor of the town, but as Dewey said, this is teh family bussines.
In my opinion, this draw was likely done by Buck before his dad has been mayor or probably after the first time he has been elected, this is something Buck probably made for Dewey after seeing how his dad would put so much efford doing all his own promotional material for his little campaign and then one day Buck goes to him and show him this saying he is sure he can win because he is the best and also the best dad and that’s all it counts right? and what is what does Dewey then?? He make a tons of copies of it and use them for his campaign, in place of trying making more professional posters to use, he use the ones his son made for this, he don’t care if it may make him look dump or silly, his son made this and he is so happy for it.
And as I said, we don’t know if that was Dewey’s first time running for mayor or had already been one, but maybe this does give him a good level of self confidence, his son loves him and believes he can be a good mayor as he is a dad, and if Dewey’s father indeed had been a mayor before (and a GOOD ONE to bother), he probably thinks, why can’t he? so maybe Dewey become mayor and keep running for it and for keep getting re-electing. The only thing Dewey know for sure there is that people trust him to keep them well and he will do just that.
Here is where Buck enter, when he probably was younger and happy because his dad is doing what he has always wanted, but with the time pass, he notice Dewey can’t give him as much attention as he used to, so Buck start growing resentful to both his dad AND his position as mayor, which Buck has said to use on his defense in “Joyride“ because “he is the mayor’s son“, if his dad is gonna be giving all his attantion to that job, then buck is gonna try having some benefits from it even if he hates it.
Dewey as many parents, doesn’t understand why his son’s attitude has changed from before, so he try connecting with him in the only way his own father tried connecting with him, with politics.
“I think it’s swell you’re returning to the family business, son! Wanna help your old man get re-elected again, eh??” “It’s NOT campaign stuff, dad. Steven and I are making ART.” “I don’t understand it myself, but a boy’s gotta have interest and ambition.”
Dewey is still the extremly bumbling mayor we have been seen this whole time, he can’t see why re-connecting with his son via politics doesn’t work, and it probably keep making it worse without him knowing why, but he let his son still use whatever he has of material for a personal use even if will have nothing to do with politics, because his son has his mind on a project and he cares for it even if he doesn’t understand it or Buck’t don’t wanna try explain more, so he let him be.
I think is preatty easy understand why Buck then made a a big joke about Steven’s draw and the shirts for Greg’s class, Buck reflects his feelings for his dad’s job on Steven’s situation, because right now Steven may be happily helping his dad on this new bussines, but what about if it started taking all of Greg’s time, then Steven maybe wouldn’t have wanted to help him in first place.
In the end we can see after Steven start shooting the new shirts, Buck being in between his friends laughing about his dad’s shirt and Dewey is still not humiliated by people making fun of him, Dewey is happy of seeing that draw on this shirt, he don’t care for anything else becuase he is just thinking he is connecting again with his son in a way he understand.
Buck can be angry at his dad for not giving him enough attention, that’s normal and good for the situation, but he
still loves him, he don’t want people to make fun of him for real and he
too wants to connect with him again, he want his dad to be there with him,
While driving home this morning, I passed by this sign.
Everything about this is perfect, from the three-fourths-deflated balloons to the glorious randomness of the sign itself. Guys, seriously, what is a psychic fair?!
Alas, I must’ve just missed it, because I promise you that I followed the arrow on that sign all across a labyrinthine-like suburb for a good 10 minutes and found no trance of anything even slightly related to a psychic fair.
So life goes on, leaving me with pictures in my head of old ladies in turbans juggling crystal balls for a buck. And, thus, filled to the brim with regret.