.⚓︎ ݁˖ wishbone deluxe is for the people who know they have to stop letting people in but still giving everyone a chance and just ending up getting hurt
𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡ ⚓︎ the story of door, moths, and the best is my new favorite thing ever. the way conan makes the three of the songs go together seamlessly is so beautiful. from trying to end the relationship/situationship, to finally getting over it but still having hope, and ending with hoping they're okay yet still needing full closure means literally everything to me.
i need wishbone deluxe injected into my bloodstream right now. conan gray is an artist and each one of his works is a masterpiece. ｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ
.☘︎ ݁˖
(these are just my thoughts after my first listen so i'm sorry if i misinterpreted any of the songs)
You haven't left your bed since Bucky Barnes broke up with you. After scrolling on social media for hours, you come across a photo of Bucky and someone else. That someone else being another girl. Tall, brunette, an actress. The posts caption reads, 'She's the one'. Ouch. Without thinking, you call Joaquín Torres, crying.
_
He arrives at your small apartment just within a few minutes. That was way faster than any time Bucky would come pick you up for an immemorial, boring date.
"Yikes, who died in here?" He always tries to lighten the mood no matter how horrible the situation. But the thing is, he always makes everyone happier.
Letting a much needed smile through, you struggle to say, "He's with another girl."
Joaquín's face falls as he walks over to sit on the edge of your bed. "Is this about Bucky and that actress? But why would you be cr-" He realizes what he's missed these past three months, "You dated him, right?" You nod as he leans over you to gently wipe a tear off your cheek.
"You need to get outside. Come on, let's go for a walk," he says while standing up to walk over to your closet.
You roll your eyes despite being super grateful of him for doing this. He tosses you a t-shirt and a clean pair of jeans, "Put those on. I'll wait for you outside."
-
The blue of the sky looks beautiful for having just spent the past week staring up at your ceiling. Joaquín holds your hand tightly in his to keep you grounded.
To abruptly interrupt the good emotions, you spot Bucky in the distance with that other girl. She's laughing at something he said. He never made you laugh. She's so pathetic. And then you notice his hand rested on the small of her back.
Your vision is blurry and your knees are weak. You can barely stand, but Joaquín quickly wraps his arm around your torso to keep you standing upright.
"Let's get out of here," Joaquín whispers in your ear, "I'm so sorry for even bringing you here."
wishbone ⚓︎ act 1 .☘︎ ݁˖ bucky barnes x fem!reader
Of course no one saw. No one looked your way when you were walking in public hand in hand. No one noticed anything when you and Bucky Barnes were together. Well, obviously relationships are supposed to make just the two people happy and it shouldn't be about what others see. But would it hurt just for some acknowledgment? You always wished at least someone would say, "You two are so cute together!" or, "That's your boyfriends sweater, right?"
It was April. You met Bucky in March and started dating in less than a month. The city streets were drowned in a thick cloud of fog and the air was chilled just enough to give the tip of your nose a rosy hue. He notices the tremble in your hands and quickly takes his thick jacket off and wraps it around your shoulders. "You warmer now?" You nod and keep walking, your hand just brushing against his with every gentle swing of your arm.
-
It was a Friday night during June and Bucky was at a bar with some friends. He didn't want you to go with him, but you heard what happened that night from your best friend, Joaquín Torres.
Bucky was two or three drinks deep when Joaquín brought you up. "You ever talked to her?"
"Who, her? I barely even fucking know her."
And that was it. He didn't even mention the small fact that you've been dating for two months. Not even your best friend noticed, but even worse, your boyfriend won't even tell him.
-
July couldn't come any faster. The chime of your phone was enough to wake you. You sit up in bed, covered in a thin layer of sweat. You hair messy and sticking to your forehead. The sun was shining brightly through your curtains. Almost too brightly. You squint your eyes because of the golden light. Nothing comes to mind when you try to remember what happened last night. When you pick up your phone, you see it was a singular text from Bucky.
"I can't do this anymore."
What. The. Fuck. You spent a whole summer waiting for him to give you at least some attention, and where did that get you? Now you stare at the glowing screen. You don't even know how to reply. Just don't cry. No one can know anything ever happened between you two now.
Getting held by your arms as your heels drag along the pavement as the tall, soulless men carry you into the Red Room. And there being extensive ballet and assassin training. You know, just normal stuff all young girls should learn right after getting brutally separated from their friends, family, and home.
You knew all the holidays and happy moments were completely artificial, but you liked the small bit of effort to try and make you happy.
The only one who could make the other girls smile was you. You'd tell jokes at the wrong times and accept the punishment just if it meant at least one person could have some happiness in the dark times you were all living in.
Everyone saw you as the sunshine through the storm clouds. The rain during the drought. The flower in the barren field.
Until that all changed.
But that's all in the past. This is about the now.
That's all that you know. All you've ever known. Because of growing up in the Red Room and then becoming a ballerina, routine has always been an important thing in your life.
9:00pm Friday, February 27th
The first time he saw her was at some boring event for Sam Wilson, or rather, Captain America. Being the Falcon, and Sam's closest friend, Joaquín Torres had to go with him.
But it wasn't all that bad. He found that out the moment he saw you. The dress code was formal, and god you took that as almost a challenge. The elegant pale pink dress immediately got Joaquín's attention and kept it for the rest of the night.
The whole event, his eyes never left you. He spent the whole time with you on his mind.
It was when you walked past him when his heart almost stopped. She was wearing the perfume that drives any man crazy. The vanilla scented perfume that lingers in the air for hours after applied.
He didn't even talk to you. Joaquín just couldn't risk embarrassing himself in front of the goddess you are. So he left without a number, without a social media, not even a name.
The drive back was quiet. Joaquín and Sam sat in the back of the sleek, black, government-issued limo.
"Who was she, man?" Joaquín asked Sam, breaking the silence.
Sam laughed to himself, immediately knowing who would have caught Joaquín's eye. "She was friends with Nat and trained in the Red Room after her. I knew you'd find her interesting. Your age, too."
"An Ex-Widow, huh? I didn't get the chance to talk with her."
"You'd be lucky to even speak a word to her- she's untouchable."
"Just watch me. She'll be in love with me soon enough."
"I'd like to see you try, kid," Sam laughs, "Just don't get your heart broken. Or do. I'd love to say I told you so."
"Oh, come on, bro. How would I get my heart broken? The ladies love me."
10:00pm Friday, March 6th
All your life has led to this moment. From the Red Room to the extensive ballet rehearsals, you knew you were meant to be starring in Swan Lake in front of an audience of thousands.
You get off stage after your debut as the Swan and everything after that was a blur.
But it wasn't what you expected. No flowers. No Hugs. No friends to tell you how great you did. Thinking the lead meant people would be proud of you, but here you are, standing in the lobby, looking out at the crowd of people buzzing with excitement for their friends and family as you stand alone.
Tears burn at the corners of your eyes.
"I think the swan is gonna cry," one of your fellow dancers taunts as a group of some of the others in the company walk past you.
Before things can get any worse, someone comes up from behind you, clearing his throat.
That's the first time you saw him, but not the first time he saw you. The tall guy with dark hair and pretty brown eyes. He glares at the dancers who were bothering you as they saunter out into the hallways that go backstage and you quickly dry your eyes.
"Ignore them. I think you did great," he says surprisingly confidently despite his awkward, but cute, smile.
"Thank you," you smile back up at him, "And you are...?"
"Joaquín. Torres. Joaquín Torres."
You look down at your feet and smile before you lift your head, making eye contact with him once again, "Nice to meet you, Joaquín."
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