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lovelybarnes · 2 years

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crush- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, mentions of sam wilson, steve rogers, and natasha romanoff (all platonic) warnings: whole lotta fluff about: bucky and you have a forever crush a/n: i very much do not love the about, and you can take this as a 40s!reader if that makes more sense. Second of my installments for jamecember! @writingsbychlo

bucky’s beer is sitting in front of him, untouched and mocking with the way its dripping moisture settles on the wood of the bar table. steve is staring at bucky’s blank look, his blue eyes narrowing at his best friend while sam nudges his arm gently, sitting down next to him with two new drinks. he hands him one before looking back at bucky, furrowing his brows and looking back at steve in question, “still?” he wonders aloud, and steve nods, absentmindedly tracing the pad of his finger over his fresh drink.

“buck, is everything okay? it’s like you haven’t even been here the whole time we’ve been here.”

bucky nearly snaps out of it, nodding distractedly at steve’s words while he chases his ideas, feeling so close to having his answer, yet so impossibly far that it makes him frustrated and glare at his drink. “‘m fine. just trying to figure something out.”

sam raises an eyebrow and shares a look with steve, a small smile making his way onto his face, “maybe we can help oil that android brain of yours, what’cha tryin’ to figure out?”

bucky pauses, contemplating the offer before refusing, “it’s nothing,” he lies, the quiet whirring of his vibranium arm betraying his words.

“is y/n mad at you?” steve asks, eyebrows joining in concern.

bucky shakes his head, “no. no,” bucky answers quickly, drifting off before finally giving in to steve’s stare, “‘was just wondering how good that new restaurant was.”

sam raises an eyebrow, “it’s okay… nothing you would like.”

bucky clears his throat, “what about y/n?”

sam hums in realization, “ah, you want to take y/n on a date,” he wags his eyebrows, “why don’t you just ask her to look up the menu— since we all know you can’t—” bucky scowls, “and see if she likes the food?”

“i can’t,” bucky insists, and at his friends’ requests to know why, bucky can feel an unwanted blush rise to his cheeks when he realizes he’ll have to tell them. “it’s just— i want this to be a surprise.”

sam grins, “special occasion? want a second honeymoon?”

bucky rolls his eyes, the warmth in his face deepening, “i just— she’s y/n and i love her. i want this to be a good date for her.”

his eyes lighten when he suddenly gets an idea, and steve can nearly see the lightbulb hanging above him brighten slightly. “maybe i can do a picnic. do you think you can ask stark to show a movie for us in the backyard? near the garden,” bucky adjures to steve.

“you know you already got the girl, right? there’s no need for the fancy, expensive dates to win her over,” sam reminds, an easy smile on his lips.

bucky shrugs, “that doesn’t matter. she deserves the best, it doesn’t matter how long we’ve been together.”

it takes bucky two more days to get everything fully figured out, having called in a favor from tony to get the tower’s garden—full of colors and blooming flowers thanks to you—decorated for you, and a large monitor set up so you could watch your favorite movie. nobody—including the avengers—was allowed into it as long as you both were outside, so complete privacy was promised, and your favored dishes were already being prepared by the finest chefs—another favor from tony.

now, he only needed to actually ask you.

but the anxiety that curled around his thoughts—as completely unreasonable as it was—was still cutting off his nerve as you walked over to him. he already knew your answer, had already imagined your smile and the warmth of your cheeks while you nodded. he just needed to make that a reality.

the curve of his lips came naturally when you stepped close to him, a light smile already on your face from his close proximity, and your fingers already burning to hold his thanks to the repeated motion of greeting him with a squeeze to his cold hand. “hey bucky,” you begin, cheeks burning and teeth beginning to stress at your bottom lip when he smiles at you.

“y/n, i wanted to tell— ask, i mean— well, actually it’s more of a request?” bucky’s already off to a bad start, and he hasn’t even begun asking his question yet. you laugh lightly, looking at him patiently. one of your hands reaches for his, and your touch immediately soothes him.

“do you wanna go out with me today?” he asks finally, and your neck heats, but you nod, a small airy breath leaving your mouth while you respond.

“of course, bucky. you don’t need to be so nervous anymore.”

bucky disagrees—how is he not supposed to be nervous and when your smile looks like that? when the color of your eyes glimmers in his dreams and your touch is as soft and loving as it is? he wants to stress how the miracle that you and him got together doesn’t make him any less in love with you, doesn’t make you any less beautiful—doesn’t minimize his huge crush on you—but he just smiles at you, face burning because you’re smiling at him and your eyes shine with excitement as you ask him about your date. “it’s all a surprise, doll,” bucky answers, his metal hand looping around your waist when you lean against him, groaning.

“one hint?” you ask with a pout.

“you’ll love it,” bucky promises, and you nuzzle your head into his chest.

“that’s a given. it’s with you.”

bucky, even after your many honest compliments, still can’t help his blush.

you’re narrowing your eyes at yourself in the mirror when nat walks by your room, doubling back when she realizes what you’re doing. “wow,” she greets, surprising you. you turn to see her leaning on your doorframe, eyeing your outfit.

“do you like it? bucky’s about to pick me up for a date, and i wasn’t sure if this was good enough…”

natasha looks at you in bewilderment for a moment before cocking her head, beginning to walk closer to you. “you’re serious?” she questions, and you nod. “y/n,” she begins, stepping in front of you and putting her hands on your arms. “you could go out in a potato bag and barnes would still look at you like you hung the stars in the sky.” you can’t help but scoff lightly and look down at yourself again, beginning to question the shoes you’re wearing. “y/n, i’m serious. that guy loves you.”

“besides,” nat starts, dropping her arms to her side while she inspects your jewelry. “you guys are together now, a date usually implies going to mcdonald’s to pick up fries and eat them in his car. i wouldn’t be surprised if he came in sweatpants,” she laughs. you listen to her words and frown, now worried you’re overdressed. the knock at your open door cuts off your idea to change for the nth time—which is proven by the clothing and shoes strewn across your floor.

“y/-” bucky stops when his eyes land on you before a dumb grin begins forming on his lips, “you look beautiful.”

your worried frown melts into a smile at his words, but you still tug at what you’re wearing, “really? i’m not overdressed?— or underdressed?” bucky shakes his head, his eyes still too glued onto your figure to even notice nat in the room. “no, no, you’re… you’re perfect.”

“you guys are so gross,” sam whines from behind bucky, “i thought the honeymoon phase would be over by the first five years.”

natasha nods, pushing past a distracted bucky to leave the room. “me too,” she says, “but nope. even after five years of being married they still act like nervous teenagers in love.”

your ring glints under the light while you hook your arm through bucky’s offered one, a gentle warmth settled on your ears from the kiss he laid on your knuckles. his own ring shines proudly from its place on his finger, the words engraved on it—yours until the end of the line—hidden from anyone else’s view.

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lovelybarnes · 2 years

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drunk- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, natasha romanoff, wanda maximoff, sam wilson warnings: alcohol, being drunk, being hungover, embarrassment? about: request (DF31) “maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance.”+(DN43) “what did you just say?” a/n: this took so long, i’m so sorry, thank you so much for being patient, i hope you enjoy! i didn’t do the other part of the request just because i don’t think i could write that with it coming out well and legible, so i apologize for that! first of my installments for jamecember! @writingsbychlo (did not tag, sorry!!)

you look pretty.

it’s not like it’s anything unusual, you always look pretty, no matter if you're in the terrifyingly expensive floor-length stain gowns or in one of the shirts you'd stolen from him or steve or sam.

but there's just something about the carefree laugh you're gracing him with right now that makes you glow like the stars he saw in the dates in the desert that he’d plan.

you're not dressed in anything particularly spectacular but you look the part, with wisps of hair falling over your face and a beaming smile that makes him sport one of his own.

you're talking to natasha and steve, eyes shining when natasha deadpans something, and you burst out in beautiful laughter, a hand reaching to grasp steve's arm that makes an ugly spark of jealousy urge bucky to take his eyes off of you. but he doesn't, because even though you're touching his best friend and not him, you're magnetic; a light to the moths that are his attention.

you recover, crinkled eyes accompanying the remark you make that makes steve and natasha laugh. in turn, you look on proudly, visibly feeding off of the laughter you’d caused.

bucky is staring, a little starstruck as he observes you move with such effortless beauty.

“maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance,” a voice startles from next to him. it makes bucky peel his attention off of you and onto the person that had managed to sneak up on him through the daze of you he was stuck in. sam stands from bucky’s side, a raised eyebrow observing him as bucky lets an unbothered facade fall over his features, trying his hardest to clean away the lovestruck look that had brightened his eyes and pulled at his lips.

“‘dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” bucky shrugs, reluctantly turning to sam completely. sam exhales annoyedly, cocking his head to the side as his chin juts up and down in exasperated understanding.

“uh huh,” he replies, tongue poking through his cheek as he eyes you. “so why’re you starin’ at her so intensely?”

bucky purses his lips, “not intensely.”

sam grins in a way that lets bucky know he messed up, “so you were staring?”

bucky looks back at him tiredly, “not staring.”

“tell that to your face.”

“that’s just how my face is.”

“uh huh. so what you’re tellin’ me right now is that you aren’t interested in y/n?” sam asks.

bucky’s eyebrows pinch together, scanning the look on sam’s face as he thinks over his reply.

“yeah,” he says finally, “not interested.” he lies.

“so it’s not a problem if thor asks her out?”

sam’s words make bucky’s facade crack a little, but he forces a shrug anyway, even through the clenched jaw that sam is smirking at. “not a problem.”

“tell that to your face.”

“hey, buck,” you greet with a smile, settling into the couch next to him. he doesn’t fail to notice the way your thigh is pressed to his, although you don’t seem to give it too much thought as you look up at the television, sucking a drop of something sweet off of your thumb. you jut out a small bowl of sliced mango, pink with chamoy and doused in lime and chili, “want some?”

there’s barely a pause before he responds, but it seems too long for you, a pout forming on your lips, you shake the bowl enticingly, “c’mon, i spent ten minutes on it and everything, i swear it’s good.”

because the mango looks really good--and a little because bucky can’t bring himself to deny anything you offer--bucky gives in, two hesitant fingers reaching in your bowl to push a little cube of mango into his mouth. he hums when he tastes it, much more interested in the proud look on your face after you hear him. “you like it?”

“yeah,” bucky says a little breathlessly, observing the bright grin that overcomes your face.

“well, i can make you some whenever you want,” you offer, taking some mango for yourself and setting the bowl in between you two. bucky takes another piece mostly for the opportunity to see that look on your face again.

a few episodes of whatever it was bucky was watching pass by until your phone vibrates, the bowl of cut fruit empty on the table in front of you and bucky. you open it, humming to yourself before meeting bucky’s eyes.

“nat says we’re going out to some new bar today. all of us, i think. d’you wanna come?” you ask.

“are you going?” bucky asks, holding back a cringe when he realizes it sounds exactly like what it is, but you don’t seem to mind, a small smile on your lips instead when you confirm.

“oh. sure,” bucky says then, too busy observing you to concentrate on not being as obvious as he is.

“i gotta get ready, then,” you say, bouncing off the couch and heading for the elevator, “i’ll see you there, buck!”

“can’t wait, doll,” bucky half-lies.

bucky isn’t completely sure how you got so drunk.

he’d seen you at the bar, caught glimpses of you ordering drinks with natasha and wanda, declining and occasionally accepting others from guys that buy them for you between the conversations steve and sam drag him into. it’s almost frustrating pretending like the reason he came to this party was the drinks and dancing and not you.

early into the night, he manages to evade steve enough to meet you again, clearly tipsy as you stumble, a lazy grin on your face when you look up at him. “bucky!” you cheer, heading towards him, “hold my drink,” you instruct, handing him what you’d just been drinking. he immediately places his palm over the opening of it, holding it closer to him while you search for something in your bag. “aha!” you hurrah, pulling out a lip gloss. you apply it with a pop before you put it back, looking back at him until your eyes suddenly get caught on something and you dig into your bag again.

“what?” bucky wonders, an insecure hand reaching up to his cheek.

you ignore him, and with another aha, you present him with a small wipe, leaning close enough to him that he can smell your newly applied lip gloss. you wipe gently at his cheek until you’re satisfied, then pull at something on his shirt, “glitter,” you shrug, “such a hassle to get off.”

you ask for your drink again and continue mindlessly chatting with him, ignoring all advancements made on you as if they were never made in the first place until sam finds bucky again, pulling him away because he apparently just has to meet this guy. bucky grumbles while sam drags him away, promising to meet up with you again soon while you nod, sipping from your glass.

it’s not until he can finally get away from his friends again that he really sees you again.

your words are slurred together, a sheen covering your whole body that makes it seem like you’re shining in the lights of the bar. you’re warm, the heat from the hands you suddenly cup his jaw with startling bucky. excited, glittering eyes scan over his face, a wide grin taking over your face. you’re so open, words and wandering hands without the usual filter that would stop you from telling bucky how great his arms looked in that shirt that day or tucking that stray piece of hair behind his ear.

“you’re so pretty,” you murmur, unfiltered honesty in the way you look up at him with a distraught smile, attention never straying from him, as if you couldn’t stop staring at him and soaking him up. your pointer finger is tucked behind his chin and you press your thumb into the little cleft at his chin, eyes rising back to his. “you’re so pretty,” you repeat, “i want you to be my boyfriend.”

bucky knows you’re drunk, but he can’t stop the way his breath gets caught in his throat at your declaration. the hope that bubbles up in his stomach is shoved back just as soon in an effort to remain realistic.

“‘s why i always look at you and sit right next to you in the couch. so our thighs touch an’ ev’rything’,” you confess cluelessly, “why won’t you be my boyfriend, bucky?” you whine, a pout on your lips as you suddenly let go of his face and let your head drop against his chest. he can feel the warmth of your forehead through his shirt and hear your unintelligible babbles about him.

you begin to reach for the cup in his hand, but he draws it further away from you, a hand holding your hip so you don’t chase after it--not that you really could without falling flat on your face at the moment, “‘think you’ve had enough, doll.”

your shoulder slump at his words, a groan slipping past your lips as you go to press yourself against him again. “how d’you expect me not to fall in love with you when you say things like that?” you cry.

love echoes in his brain, almost as if to alert him. did you hear that?

“what--what did you just say?” he asks dazedly.

you ignore him, “callin’ me doll and dove and holdin’ my things and treatin’ me like a princess. god, bucky, why aren’t you my boyfriend? do you not like me?” you whimper, the liquor in your system making you go through a rollercoaster of emotions that brings tears to your eyes. “why don’t you like me? i cut fruit up for you and make sure tony buys that detergent you like.”

“i don’t-- i didn’t--”

shiny tears fall down your cheeks as you shove your face into his chest, and bucky goes to put your cup on the bar, leaving both hands free to hold you while you cry. “okay, baby, think it’s time to go home.”

the unintentional nickname makes you cry a little harder, drunkenly strung together words telling him how unfair you think everything is.

bucky motions to the bartender to put everything on tony’s tab as he nearly carries you to the space where the rest of the team was, unsurprised to find everyone dispersed. he spots wanda and nat talking to each other at a table, and he makes his way over there with you in front of him, firm hands around your waist guiding you and arms keeping away any elbows or limbs that threaten to touch or trip you.

they hear you before they see you, your squeals at seeing them too loud to ignore.

“nat! wan!” you exclaim excitedly, their names dragged out.

“you’re drunk,” natasha observes with an amused raise of her eyebrow.

“very drunk,” bucky adds, “are you guys heading home yet? i think it’s time for her to go back.”

“not yet,” natasha shrugs, “this girl has been checking me out all night, and i think it’s time to act on it.” then, turning to wanda, “what about you?”

wanda shakes her head, “i have to make sure pietro won’t die of alcohol poisoning.”

“why don’t you take her?” natasha asks.

“uh…” bucky remembers the feel of your hands on his cheeks, lips so close they would be touching if you moved a millimeter, the drunk confessions of love falling from your lips. “don’t think she’d really let me drive.”

you’re hanging off his arm and nuzzled in his chest, cheek against his bicep, a large smile on your face.

“clingy,” natasha states, “which is strange… considering there are many avengers to hang off of but she chose you.” a knowing smirk pulls at her lips, and it doesn’t go away when bucky sends her a look. “it’ll be fine,” she says after a pause, “just make sure to put on her seatbelt.”

“goodnight,” wanda tells you, and you repeat her words without a thought, too busy telling her something about bucky. he hears the word boyfriend again and a red flushes his cheeks.

natasha chuckles, tilting a beer at him, “starting to see how similar you and rogers are, barnes.”

“i’ll see you tomorrow,” bucky grumbles, taking your hand to lead you out.

it’s a struggle to get you settled in the car. you can’t seem to stop touching him, some part of your skin pressed against some part of his all the while he tries to sit you down in the backseat. you pout and whine about how you want to sit next to him in the passenger seat, hands on the back of his neck as he leans over to get the seatbelt around you. “i promise i’ll be good, bucky, i promise.”

after your hands remove themselves from his neck and instead tangle with the fingers trying to click the seatbelt closed, he sighs softly and looks up at you, all pleading eyes and wobbly lip as you swear you’ll keep your hands to yourself as long as you’re next to him.

bucky purses his lips, unable to hold back the breathy chuckle and lovesick smile that grace his lips when you frown at him, your thumb softening the lines of his lips.

“do you promise, y/n?”

you nod, holding out your hand, pinky outstretched, “pinky promise.”

curling his own finger around yours, you squeal, grabbing his face and kissing his nose. he ignores the raging blush that overtakes his face as he helps you out, opening the door of the passenger seat for you.

you obey for the rest of the night. for the most part, at least. the only thing you insist on is holding one of his hands while he drives, humming happily along to the radio as you observe the night sky, his hand in yours. your eyelids droop a few minutes in but your fingers never untangle themselves from his.

you wake up the next morning with a throbbing headache and the lingering warmth of bucky’s skin on yours, your fingers aching to wrap around hands you only remembered the feel of. you groan and squeeze your eyes closed the second after you pry them open, slapping a hand on your face and rubbing at your eyes to soothe the pulsing.

slowly sitting up, you’re startled to feel something hot and solid underneath the hand you use to support yourself, retracting it back to your chest immediately and staring in horror at bucky barnes laying next to you. “fuckfuckfuck…” you mumble, small snippets of memories shattering your brain, “what did i do…” your brain barely registers that bucky is fully clothed, looking like he never changed out of his clothes from yesterday, or that your fingers are still lightly hooked before you unconsciously remove them while you straighten.

bucky’s eyes flutter open after a second, going to meet your widened eyes as you scan him.

“what are you doing here?” you ask in surprise, not giving him a chance to answer when your mind goes in another direction, “did we…”

it’s never been something you’re particularly against, but the fact you can barely remember last night is not the way you wanted it to happen with bucky.

luckily, bucky shakes his head, the fact he’s not hungover clear in the way he doesn’t pause or his eyes to calm the dizziness that threatens to tip him over on the bed. “no, no, of course not. you were really drunk last night.”

“very drunk,” you echo, beginning to nod in understanding until you’re hit with a wave of nausea. he nods, repeating your words. “okay. so what are you doing… here? in my bed?”

bucky chuckles a little, a light blush beginning to taint his cheeks as a hand reaches out to scratch his neck, “uh. you wouldn’t exactly… let me leave last night. each time i tried to tuck you in and go to bed, you would pull me back and refuse to let go.”

you decide to not ask about the ‘tucking you in’ portion of his response in favor of looking horrified, “oh my god, bucky, i’m so sorry, i usually glom onto natasha or someone… i can’t believe i did that.”

“it’s okay, i was kinda expectin’ it after the whole night.”

at the discovery that you were like that the entire night, you press a palm to your eyes, “i am so sorry. i must’ve been so annoying to take care of. why didn’t you just leave me with nat or wanda?”

you’re aware before bucky can even respond and you mutter a curse against them, making bucky laugh.

“i can’t believe they just dropped me off with you like my babysitter, i hate them, god--was i really…” you poke your tongue through the skin of your cheek, “i’ve been told i get clingy when i get drunk.”

bucky nods, “that matches up.”

your head falls into your hands, “i am so sorry. did i say anything too embarrassing?”

“well, you did ramble a lot about how pretty i ame,” bucky chuckles, red blooming in his skin, the tremor of nerves in his playful tone unnoticeable to your hungover self.

with a panic much too real to be a lie, you freeze, “did i?”

bucky nods, “uh huh.”

“i’ve never done that,” you mumble, ignoring the annoying voice in your head that reminds you that you’ve never been this interested in anyone before, never yearned as much as you are right now, with bucky so close in your reach yet so far. “what’d i say?” you ask nervously, fearful your drunk self had ruined the relationship you had with bucky. you don’t know if you want him to shrug off your question and say nothing important, or tell you every word you’d told him, some certain look in his eyes that told you he wanted it to be real.

“‘asked me to be your boyfriend a couple’a times. made me blush a little, all the things you were saying.”

you blink, catching the glint in his eye, “did i?”

bucky hums, careful eyes on your face to watch for your reaction, “uh huh. you started cryin’ at one point, scared the crap out of me.”

you scrunch your nose, “oh, i really do wish you stay away from me when i’m drunk, i’m gonna start revealing all my secrets.”

“like the fact you make stark buy that detergent i like? or that you ‘sit close to me so our thighs touch’ purposefully?”

“i told you that?” you gasp, bringing a hand up to your mouth, “did i completely destroy our friendship?”

with a confidence only rooting from the way you acted with him the night before and the tone that makes him believe something he’s been hesitant to for so long, he licks his lips, “i hope so, doll. ‘been wantin’ to be more than that for a while.”

maybe nat and wanda aren’t all that bad.

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lovelybarnes · 3 years

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unicorns- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: very halloween-centric about: my halloween fic!! a/n: happy halloween if you celebrate it and if you don't, happy 31st!!

it’s halloween, and contrary to what sam thinks—which he’s voiced very, very loudly to as many people as he possibly could—bucky is aware that it exists and has in fact celebrated it ever since he could walk around to knock on doors and get candy. yes, bucky is aware of the holiday; he actually liked it very much before everything, but after he got his mind back, it didn’t seem as important anymore—he couldn’t possibly enjoy the fake scares after living through so many real horrors. so all october 31sts passed by while he sat on his couch and tried not to think about the times he used to take rebecca trick-or-treating.

but you were here now. you, with your halloween decorations since september and horror movies year-round. your love for halloween is clear in the bright orange pumpkin you draw on the day in the calendar, outlining the black eyes and adding cartoonish candy that edges over into the little squares around it.

you love halloween, and bucky loves you. meaning he’ll watch the scary movies with you, no matter if they start on the day of halloween or months before; he’ll buy you all the candy you want, and he’ll even dress up with you in ridiculous matching costumes and accompany you to the costume parties where he will no doubt get relentlessly teased by sam.

no problem, he thinks at first, but that’s before he sees the costume you’ve arranged for him.

you sat him down to watch all the despicable me movies just a few days prior, explaining that your costumes would be based on it and pinky promising that he’d like it anyways- which, in your defense, he did. however, the costumes you were thinking of were apparently not the same costumes he thought you had planned considering the striped yellow shirt you have on over some jean overalls and the unicorn onesie you have laid on the bed.

he squints at you when you come out of the bathroom, a bow tying your hair up on top of your head, “what are you wearing?” he asks.

you grin and twirl, “i’m agnes!” you cheer, “you know- unicorns i love them, unicorns i love them,” you sing. at the blank look on his face, you tilt your head, the smile never falling from your face, “from despicable me!”

bucky nods slowly, “yes.” he states, “i thought you were going as lucy so i could be gru.”

you laugh, “no, you have too much hair to be gru,” you inform, “you’re…” you head excitedly to the bed, pulling up the unicorn onesie and holding it up for him to see, “a unicorn! because agnes loves unicorns and i love you, and also i think you would look really in a onesie.”

bucky stares at the thing in your hands before looking back up at your excited self, rocking on your heels and looking back at him with such pure enthusiasm in your eyes that he simply can’t bring himself to say anything other than— “give me that thing.”

your face instantly brightens, “are you sure? it’s really okay if you don’t want to,” you promise, but the gleam in your eyes makes all the assured possibilities of the teasing jabs at him by everyone at the party very insignificant.

“yes,” bucky responds, pulling your thighs closer to him to be able to tuck his head into your shoulder, “anything for you, sweetheart.” you press a kiss to the top of his head, before pulling away slightly to push his costume against him.

“party starts in ten minutes,” you remind with another kiss.

and, yeah, every single avenger there made fun of bucky the whole party, but the beam you were never able to wipe off your face made every jab at his expense worth it. though bucky will admit that your clinging to him to “enhance the experience” coupled with the kisses you pressed against his face did help a whole lot.

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