#the curse of scrapbooking i guess

[girl-bateman]

Every day I am reminded that 90% of my problems would be solved if I actually listened to my intuition like ever

[txrully]

BLLK BOYS' CHRISTMAS GIFTS!

chars: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, mikage reo, hiori yo, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, alexis ness x fem! reader (all seperate)

a/n: whew that's a lot of characters.. ;-;

isagi yoichi

he’s overthinking. like, seriously overthinking. this man has researched “best gifts for girlfriends” on google at least five times. a candle? too basic. jewelry? what if you don’t like it? a heartfelt handwritten letter? too corny.

it takes bachira dragging him to a mall (where he immediately gets overwhelmed by the crowds) to finally decide. he ends up picking out a cute sweater that’s totally your style and pairs it with a charm bracelet he thinks would look adorable on you. bonus: he spends an extra half hour wrapping it perfectly. there’s no way he’s messing this up.

... except he accidentally forgets the tag and panics, scribbling a little sticky note with “to the best girlfriend ever :)” right before handing it to you.

bachira meguru

bachira’s gift? chaotic perfection. this man goes all out, no second-guessing. he decides on a custom plushie that looks like you and him as little cartoon characters (it’s both adorable and mildly terrifying, let’s be real).

but that’s not all. he also makes a scrapbook filled with random polaroids of the two of you – some cute, some extremely cursed – and decorates every page with colorful doodles and washi tape.

he doesn’t bother with wrapping paper, though. he hands it to you in a giant gift bag covered in glitter with the words “BEST GIRLFRIEND IN THE WORLD!” written in permanent marker.

rin itoshi

rin claims he doesn’t “do christmas.” yeah, okay, mr. grinch. except he totally does, because he’s secretly been working on his gift for weeks. he gets you something practical but meaningful, like a sleek pair of headphones in your favorite color, engraved with your initials.

oh, and he throws in a tiny sanrio keychain because he noticed you staring at one in a store once. (yes, he remembers these things. don’t ask how.)

he doesn’t say much when he gives it to you, just a quiet “merry christmas” while awkwardly avoiding your gaze. but you catch the little smile when you say you love it, and it’s the best present of all.

nagi seishiro

nagi... completely forgot it was christmas until reo reminded him. but don’t worry, he’s got this! (or so he claims.)

his idea of a “perfect” gift is something chill and cozy – like a weighted blanket and a pair of fluffy socks, because he knows you love staying warm. he wraps them in the most halfhearted way possible, with tape sticking out everywhere and zero attempt at folding the edges.

“it’s what’s inside that counts,” he mumbles when you laugh at the wrapping job. you love it anyway, because it’s so him. and when you catch him napping under that same blanket with you later, you know he secretly loves it too.

chigiri hyoma

chigiri’s gift is effortlessly elegant, just like him. he spends weeks planning it out because he wants everything to be perfect. he gets you a delicate necklace with a tiny charm that reminds him of you – maybe a snowflake or a flower.

but that’s not all. he also bakes you cookies (yes, chigiri bakes, fight me on this) and arranges them in a cute little tin with a handwritten card. the card? it’s filled with heartfelt words that make you tear up just a little.

when you thank him, he gives you one of those soft smiles that makes your heart race. “only the best for you,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

mikage reo

reo spoils you. like, you tried to tell him to keep it small this year, but does reo listen? absolutely not.

his gift is an entire experience – dinner at a fancy restaurant, followed by a private ice-skating session (because, of course, he booked the whole rink). then he hands you a perfectly wrapped box containing the most beautiful dress (or outfit) he picked out just for you.

“i saw it and thought it’d look amazing on you,” he says casually, like he didn’t spend hours agonizing over it. you try to scold him for going overboard, but he just grins. “your happiness is worth it.”

hiori yo

hiori is the thoughtful gift-giver. he listens to every little thing you say and somehow remembers it all.

so when you open his gift, you’re stunned to find it’s exactly what you mentioned months ago – whether it’s a book you wanted to read, a cozy hoodie you loved, or even that random stuffed animal you gushed about once in passing.

he also includes a playlist he made just for you, filled with songs that remind him of you and your time together. when you tell him how much it means to you, he gives you a shy smile and says, “i just wanted to make sure you felt special.”

shidou ryusei

shidou’s gift? utterly unhinged but somehow sweet in the weirdest way possible. he buys you a gigantic stuffed animal—like, it barely fits through the door. why? because he “wants you to think of him when you’re hugging it.” (as if you could forget him even if you tried.)

but wait, there’s more. he also gives you a pair of matching pajamas. yes, matching. one side is obnoxiously pink with sparkly hearts (yours), and the other is black with a neon skull print (his).

when you ask him why, he just smirks and goes, “so everyone knows we’re the ultimate power couple, babe.” obnoxious? yes. thoughtful in his own shidou way? absolutely.

itoshi sae

sae doesn’t do christmas gifts. or so he says. but then he shows up at your place with a sleek little bag in hand, acting like it’s not a big deal.

inside? the perfect pair of winter gloves—luxurious, soft, and in your favorite color. oh, and he picked out a matching scarf, because, in his words, “you’re always complaining about being cold.”

he tries to play it cool when you gush over the gift, but you catch the tiniest smirk when you wrap the scarf around your neck. “don’t make it a big deal,” he mutters, but the way he watches you wear it says otherwise.

michael kaiser

kaiser’s gift is pure drama. he makes an event out of it, because, of course, he has to be the center of attention. he leads you on a whole scavenger hunt through the house, complete with cryptic notes and hints that are honestly harder than necessary.

when you finally reach the last clue, it’s a big box wrapped in glittery gold paper with an obnoxiously large bow. inside? a designer coat that probably cost more than your rent.

“only the best for my empress,” he says with that signature smug grin, pulling you into his arms. when you point out he went way overboard, he shrugs and smirks. “you’re worth it.”

alexis ness

ness is the ultimate cinnamon roll gift-giver. he spends weeks making something special for you—like a scrapbook filled with photos, ticket stubs, and little notes from your time together.

but he also surprises you with something cozy, like a fluffy blanket or a custom sweater he picked out because he knows you’re always cold.

when you thank him, his cheeks turn pink, and he shyly mutters, “i just wanted you to have something that feels like a hug from me.” (stop. he’s too precious.)

© txrully 2024

do not copy, translate, plagiarize, or post my works on other platforms.

likes and reblogs appreciated :) <3

hmmm should i make a part 2 w other characters? pls lmk! ^^

[crescent-nyx]

Jennie as your GF headcanon (SFW) - Dropped half of the letters or else it’s too long.

A- Affection: How affectionate is she with you?

Really affectionate in private. Jennie gets so much shit for everything. If she walks outside and steps on an ant, people will go feral, scrutinising why she stepped on that ant. Does she think she’s better than other living things? People always find something to hate her for. I think it’s netizens’ favourite pastime. So when she started dating you, she wanted to keep it low-key. She doesn’t want anyone to know, so even as much as hand-holding is off the table. At home though? Complete cuddle bear.

C- Cheeky: How cheeky is she?

A bit. She does goof around with you, pulls pranks, makes jokes… She’s just not like Jisoo or Lisa that play around 24/7. Jennie is pretty calm and she likes her quiet time. I don’t see her as the type to be bouncing off the wals from sun up to sun down.

E- Emotion: How comfortable is she expressing her emotions?

Jennie is very emotional and sensitive, and she can’t really hide that. She has no filter. She is very clear about everything… Her thoughts, what she says, her emotions, her opinions. She’s an open book. You can tell immediately when you’ve hurt her feelings. She makes herself very clear without saying much. You can just see it in her face. She also trusts you a lot. You’re the first one she comes crying to when anything goes wrong - anything at all. You’re always the first one to know, and the first one she allows to calm her down. You’re her shoulder to cry on, the one she will always come venting to, always seek advice from etc.

G- Gifts: Receiver or giver? What kind of gifts does she like?

Jennie is 100% a giver. She likes to make you happy. Whether that be by buying you something you pointed out to her a few weeks ago or making your favourite chocolate just because… She doesn’t really need a special occasion to spoil you. She just does it because it makes her happy to see you happy. As for her, she does like expensive gifts like a new perfume or a Chanel bag, but these are things she herself can buy. She prefers gifts that come from your heart. Like a photo album of the two of you or a scrapbook of your favourite memories, or a ‘100 reasons I love you’ book like she made for you for your birthday last year. Just anything like that.

I- I love you: Who said it first? When? How?

Jennie said it first… Rather quickly too… About on the fifth date. The both of you were stargazing. You had planned on just watching the sun going down at your place after dinner and then heading over to the cinema to watch this new movie that had come out. However, when the stars started appearing and the moon had come up, neither of you wanted to leave anymore. It was calming, healing if you will. Both of you just in your backyard, sitting on some beanbags with some snacks. You had downloaded an app, telling you which constellations were in the sky that night and where to see them. With Jennie it just came out. You were helping her spot Sirius, and she just couldn’t hold it in anymore. She just had to tell you.

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“I love this… You… I love you… And this.”

Yeah, it was awkward, but genuine.

K- Kiss: What was the first kiss like?

Really awkward as well. Everything you and Jennie did for the first time was awkward. This was no exception. You were both ready for that step. You both just uncomfortably shifted closer together and leaned in too quickly I guess, bumping your foreheads against each other. Eventually, you got over the awkwardness, but yeah… It was definitely memorable.

M- Memory: What’s her memory like? Does she remember things like birthdays or anniversaries?

Jennie remembers everything about everyone. This is both a blessing and a curse. If you’re trying to surprise her, don’t lie about where you’re going, don’t change your story because she will know. She knows what you ate, what you wore last week, at what hour you went to bed, and what you like 😏

O- On cloud nine: What is she like when she’s in love?

Overwhelming. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it eventually… But definitely overwhelming. She can be a lot. She wants to celebrate everything - 1 week anniversary, 1 month anniversary, 100 day anniversary, 200 day anniversary, 300 day anniversary, 1 year anniversary… But, hey… More gifts I suppose 🤷🏼‍♀️ Jennie will also just swoon over anything you do. Even if it’s the most basic shit ever, she will act like you saved the planet.

Q- Queen: Does she like to be pampered? The princess/queen treatment?

Yes, ma’am… Definitely, most definitely. Jennie LOVES getting pampered. Doesn’t matter how. Just be affectionate towards her. You can’t really go overboard with her. She loves it all - pet names, massages, home spa dates, you painting her nails… She loves getting your attention.

S- Security: How protective is she? Who is the protector?

You. Jennie gets so much shit, she kinda needs you to look out for her. However, she will gladly risk it all when it comes to you as well. Sure, she takes her career seriously, and it would break her if she had to step away from it, but for you, she’d do anything. But you are definitely her personal security guard.

U- Unity: What kind of wedding does she want? Does she even want a wedding to begin with?

Jennie definitely wants a fairytale type wedding. Something with only people you both know, yet lavish and gorgeous. She’d definitely spend her cash on it - everything. She wouldn’t settle for anything that’s not perfect. She’ll only get married once, so she wants to do it right, with the perfect cake, the perfect dress, the perfect food, the perfect people. Probably something like the wedding in Crazy Rich Asians but without the mean rich in-laws and toxicity.

W- Wildcard: Random headcanon.

Jennie talks in her sleep. It’s absolutely adorable. I don’t think she’ll ever know how many pictures and videos you have of her singing or talking in her sleep.

Y- Yearn: What are her cravings when she’s having a bad day? What makes her feel better?

You, Kuma and chocolate… A lot of chocolate. Even more chocolate… And you, all of you.

[gwendeeagain]

What do you think of Siblings Karushuu AU ?

Short Answer:

It's fine, they're cute... I guess. I don't care much for it, not because I dislike the idea, but because I feel like them being siblings doesn't really add much to their existing dynamic.

Long Answer:

I attempted to write Siblings!Karushuu early on. I have 1 complete oneshot, and I think one WIP (I don't remember if I published it in my Scrapbooks collection).

Thing is, I'm not sure what exactly about them being siblings is a draw as opposed to them being unrelated or just interacting in any other premise.

The both of them already have quite a robost family setup that influences their personality - Karma with absent parents, Gakushuu with his too-present father (and ?absent mother).

Sibling AU fics that I've read tend to shoehorn in Gakuhou to be Karma's father, which is expected since he's an established character in canon, and his role can't be omitted without too much damage to the rest of the plot. (Furthermore, if you're the kind of person who is writing a Karushuu siblings AU, you're clearly interested in the Asano family dyanmic (that's actually all there is to Gakushuu) so you're just not going to omit Gakuhou.)

Unfortunately I've observed that this rarely influences anything about Karma. Karma either remains as he is in canon and it's explained that he's a black sheep in his family to have ended up in 3-E, or the plot puts him in 3-A and it's explained that he either has an impending transfer to 3-E/it's his last chance; or that his nepotism is what keeps him in 3-A. Karma's values and principles about academics and the inherent worth of human beings is rarely affected in these retellings (because that's what people like about Karma) but because that's Gakuhou's main shtick, it feels like the whole premise didn't matter at all.

There's even less to say about Gakushuu's mother because neither Karma nor Gakushuu's mothers are present in canon anyways and it's easy to just explain them away as unimportant, given how much space Gakuhou takes up in the mind. Usually I read that their mother takes off with Karma and leaves Gakushuu alone with Gakuhou, so... no changes there.

Another potential appeal is the sibling dynamic between Gakushuu and Karma - but then I'll just question what exactly about a sibling relationship differs from... any other relationship between two unrelated people. Karushuu in canon already has the sort of snarky-bantering-rivalry energy anyways, if that's the thing you're looking for. I've seen fics that write them as estranged by having their parents split them up as kids, but then that's essentially the same as a childhood friends AU. I guess we really can't replicate familial love and the obligation of being blood related unless it's this specific context. The idea that they're cut from the same cloth, only separated by time, but they will eventually reunite... oh hey, we can make them soulmates, put a curse on them, or make a demon pact.

There's also the resentment angle, as overcompeting siblings tend to have, "you look like the other parent" acidity if we throw in a divorce plot. But that doesn't affect their existing interaction, I feel - it gives them different things to say when they fight, but they're still rivals as they would in canon.

I don't know. My point is that I guess I can't think of a premise that would interest me in a sibling au above any other au if I had the option. Any differences that do arise feel miniscule and don't affect the broad strokes of whatever I'm looking for in a fic.

...Not even incest, which is a hot take. Yeah, I read/write and enjoy incest. But come on, whatever Gakushuu and Gakuhou have going on in canon already is far more interesting than anything I could ever manufacture for sibling Karushuu. The strange enmeshment and tension that the canon Asanos have in Mamasano's absence, ...could work similarly to sibling Karushuu's furtive us-against-the-world codependency under their Father's omniscent gaze... if you're into that sort of thing. I could be, but more often than not the Asano family dynamic pulls me away from looking elsewhere.

I mean, I'm just not into the siblings thing. You could be. Don't take this post as my condemnation of Karushuu siblings, I still enjoy reading them and the quality of the fic takes precedence. I've had my expectations pleasantly subverted before.

Hehe thanks for the ask! I love rambling

[ms-nesbit]

Title: cosmic (a jason todd x reader fic)

Chapter I of ???

Rating: 18+ (eventual smut, language, violence i guess, and mention of past abuse)

Tw: abuse, violence, and smut.

Summary: 

y/n meets dick and barbara, who try to set y/n up with dick’s big little brother.

ao3

“Can you turn the goddamn air up?”

Gothamites were becoming increasingly brusque as the summer heat slowly suffocated them. Typically, one can notice the season in Gotham based on the layers of clothing (or lack thereof) that each resident sported on the Gotham streets; however, tube tops and 1970s-style track shorts were no match for the heat index rising above 115 degrees, an unusually sweltering day for the sinful city.

“It looks like Gotham is finally getting a taste of what the afterlife is gonna look like.” One resident snickered with a twisted smirk as he laid change down on the newspaper stand to pay for the Gotham Gazette. “Lotta fire in those parts, don’t’cha think?”

“I don’t know - never believed in the stuff.” replied y/n, who sat on the other end of the newspaper stand. She counted the dirtied coins and wrinkled up dollar bills before placing them in the register, sitting on the stool with a sigh. She glanced at the clock on the upper corner of the interior of the stand as the upper hand mocked her boredom.

Y/n worked at the newspaper stand part-time since graduating from NYU - she fled New York City, hopeful about Gotham despite her friends’ pleas for her to stay after the break-up.

“Y/n, seriously? Fucking Gotham?” Amulya spat the city’s name, her boxed wine almost out with it. “What the hell?”

Sarah shook her head, the wiry blonde strands going with it. “Is it because of the superheroes?”

“No.” Y/n replied, her voice less convincing than her face’s poor attempt at hiding guilt. “I just think that I want to see more than NYC.”

“Then go to San Francisco, for crying out loud!” Amulya stood on her feet this time, glass full of wine sloshing with every movement. “Or at least Bludhaven. I’m with Sarah on this one: I think you’ve finally lost it, hun.”

Y/n sighed as she stared at her flats. “I’ll come visit, I just… can’t stand being here after everything.”

Since moving to Gotham, y/n caught up on the news: Batman was a household name, due in part by the Gotham News and Gazette. His name was both a prayer and a curse, spoken by all sorts of residents as they pointed to him. After a couple of weeks, it clicked for y/n: Gotham’s incessant violent crime ceases to stop due to Batman’s no-kill rule.

One day, while job hunting (for the third week in a row), y/n picked up a thrown out Gazette paper, with a piece titled Are You There, Batman? It’s Me, Gotham by Keke Throwma. She read it, then clipped the newspaper article into a scrapbook upon her arrival to her shared apartment. The following day, she applied for a position at the newspaper stand, writing articles in her downtime on shifts (which was often - the digital age nearly extinguished the paper business entirely).

“Do you think it’s ever going to change?” Y/n heard from a passerby who stopped at the stand to read the cover page of the paper.

The man standing beside the passerby shrugged, but grinned optimistically. “You know, all it takes is implementing a rehabilitation program, which Gotham should fund!” His voice was as deep as his shoulders broad, and only then did y/n notice the badge clipped on the man’s belt. “Could I just get this one?” He made eye contact with y/n, his blue eyes soft and welcoming.

“Yeah, no problem.” y/n opened her palm for the cash as she watched the man remove the wallet from his front pocket.

“What do you think about all this?” The woman asked y/n, pointing to the newspapers.

Y/n blinked for a moment, her mind blank despite preparing for this question for months. “The rehab center wouldn’t account for people like Joker, who believe that rules are meant for breaking.” she counted the coins after the man gave her the money, and pushed a button to open the register.

“See? Thank you!” the woman threw her hands up, her buttoned-up top rising from her slacks. “Grayson, you’re the only person who thinks Batman is in his right mind.” 

“Not right mind,” Dick corrected, “just on the right path. Big difference.” He folded the newspaper and placed it in his armpit, thanking y/n.

“You’re Detective Grayson, right?” y/n leaned forward in her stool in curiosity. “And Commissioner Gordon!” she grinned, awestruck by the pair standing before her.

“Yeah, we are.” Barbara replied. “Y’know, people aren’t always this excited to see us.”

“Unless they have a loaded barrel and a death wish.” Dick added, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Sorry, I just see you two on TV, I hear about you in the papers, and I think you’re doing a great job of interfering with the vigilantes.”

Dick blinked quickly, pursing his lips as he looked to Gordon for her reaction. She beamed, “Yeah, I know a lot of people are upset about that, but from working closely with my father until his death, I saw the often fatal flaws of enabling vigilantism, let alone encouraging it in Batman’s case.”

Y/n nodded, following along. “Yeah, we studied vigilantism in a couple of my criminal seminars in school. Although Batman has respectful intentions for the legal system in Gotham, he isn’t contributing to the reform of the system, essentially being a catalyst for the cycle of retribution and re-offense for these criminals.”

“Exactly!” Barbara laughed. “Where did you study criminal justice?”

“Criminology.” y/n corrected. “At NYU. I moved here a few months ago hoping to get a job as a journalist, but apparently they’re all booked up.”

“Figuratively or literally?” Dick asked, quirking a brow. Y/n and Barbara laughed in response. “I’m not surprised that you weren’t brought on at the Gazette, if that’s what you applied for, but we could always use you at the PD, if you’re interested in some additional training.”

“Recruiting me? For the police? No offense, Detective, but I’d rather stay here in the sweltering heat.” y/n waved her hand.

“Don’t like the grunt work?” Barbara asked, intrigued.

“No, I love that stuff,” y/n sighed, “I just don’t… like the cops, y’know? Feels dirty." She looked around at the floor beside her, covered in old gum, trash, and remnants of rodents. “Dirtier than this place, I’m afraid.” Y/n realized what she said and quickly added, “No offense.”

“None taken.” Dick replied. “Seems like you should meet my brother. He is, for lack of a better word, ashamed of what I do for a living.”

Barbara nodded in agreement. “I’ve been over at their place for holidays a couple of times, and Jason hates him for it. It’s kind of funny, actually.”

“I don’t know why he doesn’t hate you! I don’t get why it’s just me!” Dick’s voice is irritated, half-laughing at his own words.

“I know, I know.” Barbara rubs his back soothingly. “We’ll get going soon, but we didn’t catch your name. What was it?”

“Oh, it’s y/n.” Y/n replied.

“If you want,” Dick’s chest rose as he took a sharp breath, “you can stop by at the station, and I can take you to the criminologist. I dunno if she needs an apprentice, but I do know that she needs help with a couple of cases.”

“Or you can just stop by Wayne Manor next week for the gala and introduce yourself to the PD.” Barbara interrupted. “It would be bold, but that way you can meet them, and possibly Dick’s brother, whom you might just like.”

Dick side-eyed Barbara, swallowing a smirk. “He might not even show up. He doesn’t like parties, and he doesn’t like cops. It’s like his worst nightmare.”

“I can stop by. Is it black tie?” y/n rested her hands on her knees as she watched the pair shake their heads almost in unison. “Okay, I’ll do that, then. I don’t like parties as much, but fuck it, I could use a better job than this.”

“Okay, we’ll see you then.” Dick smiled, holding up his coffee cup.

“See you then, y/n.” Barbara playfully grinned before leaving.

[pinesfamilyguidetotheweird]

Stan Pines Headcanons Part 01

A Tight Squeeze

No doubt that he has some level of claustrophobia after being trapped in a trunk. I wanna say it was from an artsymeeshee post where a fic idea (a fic idea I still have and is still 95% finished…) that dives deeper into Stan’s quote of ‘chewing out of the trunk of a car’. When trapped in said trunk, the car it was attached to was pushed into a bog or something to sink (from I think Zeragii’s fic on AO3). With Stan in it.

Bi the Way

Because why the heck not? And, yes, I do think he dated Jimmy Snakes for a short while. Even so, Stan leans more towards women.

Hablo Español

I think it is canon that he knows some Spanish (The Last Mabelcorn). I do believe that he’s actually quite fluent in Spanish, something he picked up while in Colombian prison. Speaking of, it is said that he was imprisoned in three different countries. I’d take the guess that Colombia was one of them. As for the other two…still thinking on that, though I’d imagine the countries aren’t too far from the USA because I can’t imagine Stan being able to take a plane to, say, England. After some consideration, I think that the other two countries he was arrested in were Canada and Brazil. He knows some French and an exceptional bit of Portugal.

For Protection

Those ten guns he has? They’re for protecting himself (plus his family) from not only people from Stan’s past, but also from any aggressive anomalies that call Gravity Falls home. Or really anyone/anything else he deems as a threat to his family.

Love at First Sight

Stan claims that he’s not a fan of kids. He even wanted nothing to do with his nephew when he was born because he was all snotty and drooly. However, when Dipper and Mabel were born, it was like a switch was flipped and Stan adored the twin babies.

A Froggy Dream

Stan once had an occurring dream that he was the owner of some wax museum, which actually inspired him to get (steal) those cursed wax figures. The oddest part about the dream was that he was a frog instead of a human. And he swore that Soos was in it too.

Still Got It

He started going back to keeping in boxing shape some time after the twins were born.

Second Thoughts

There had been maaany times during those 30 years that Stan wondered if his brother was even still alive and if all this work was worth it.

Somewhat Sentimental

Similar to how Mabel has a section in her scrapbook of failed romance, Stan has a booklet that contains his own failed love life. Of the known partners he had, they were: Carla McCorkle, Jimmy Snakes, Marilyn Rosenstein, and Lazy Susan. There was probably more he tried to sweet talk over the years, but never panned out. Heck, Darlene the Spider Woman is probably in the book too. Also, I find it funny how three of the six known lovers are magical in some way (Jimmy is basically Ghost Rider, Marilyn Eda is a witch, and Darlene is...I guess a Jorogumo)

Former Biker

Pretty much a scrapped idea that is now in headcanon land, that Stan was part of a biker gang at one point, which was how he knew Jimmy Snakes, who was the biker leader. He still has his helmet and leather jacket. I wonder if he still knows how to drive a motorcycle.

[8bitsupervillain]

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 6 Tsumihoroboshi pt. EX-2

There are no screenshots, it's all text.

When last we left off Rena was in the process of explaining to Keiichi how the Sonozaki family, and potentially the other members of the Three Families were using parasites to establish control over the people of Hinamizawa under a mystical guise.

There's much ado about how what the ancient Onigafuchi villagers thought was a god, was in fact just a foreign doctor. Buddy, let me tell you when the visual novel was going in deep on its explanation of how parasites were behind it all I became unbelievably sad. I was overcome by such an absolute despair that it very nearly killed my playthrough of the series entirely. Parasites? Parasites are the cause of all of the troubles in Hinamizawa? All the setting up the mysteries of who's behind the curse, who's calling the shots, the seemingly mystical explanations behind everything was PARASITES? I became inconsolable in my grief, that this was the explanation behind it all. After nearly a hundred hours spent playing through this series it was going to explain it all away like this?! My despondence grew, I'd been here before, I don't know if I can handle another series Danganronpa-ing me, or Bioshocking me. The very idea of continuing on after being dealt such a critical blow was agonizing to me. Why should I continue reading a series that was going to go with such a completely stupid solution for the mysteries behind it all? It's probably not healthy to put so much stock into a fictional franchise, but what can I say? This series got its hooks into me good and deep, and I was so upset by this it really put a damper on any sort of enthusiasm I had previous had going for the franchise.

I consulted with a friend, I had complained at length about some of the sillier plot developments throughout the series to them before. They offered the recommendation of stop reading multiple times. So they asked me, "am I going to just take a few days away from it?" A reasonable enough question, but I knew deep in my heart that if I took a day or two away from it that was it. I would never come back. Part of me had the notion that I would at least see the visual novel through the rest of the chapter, I was on chapter nine moving onto ten. Surely I could endure just to reach the conclusion of the chapter? But I knew if I let all the momentum I had truly and completely stop that there would be no restarting this. The flame would be smothered entirely with no hope of rekindling it.

So, I grit my teeth, and just dove back into the chapter. If nothing else I would see it this chapter to its ending. Well I've done that. twenty-six hours and ten minutes the playtime clock on GOG says. I won't lie by saying this chapter didn't do serious harm to my enjoyment of the series. It did, quite a bit. The notion that this is all an X-Files is really quite tremendously disappointing to me. The chapter makes a lot of noise about how it's ridiculous to get suckered in by the scrapbooks of Miyo Takano that these might be the reasons behind everything in the series up to this point. But then in the post-chapter TIP it then goes on to say "actually, what if?"

I feel like I could guess fairly early on in the series that there was going to be a human conspiracy element behind it. But for some reason the notion that it's all a government plot that's behind it all just really sucked all the energy I had up until now. It's not even just the parasite/alien/government conspiracy angles that annoyed me with this chapter. The constant hammering home of how you shouldn't be judged by your past actions and you can atone for your sins is all well and good, but when it makes up more than half of the later chapters writing I started to get annoyed.

There are some really interesting tidbits in this chapter, there really are. I loved the revelation that Rika has indeed been stuck in some sort of hellish time loop for at least one hundred years. I also adore the idea that the other characters stuck in this situation with her can recover their memories of alternate timelines and remember previous 1983s. Keiichi reconciling with his murder of Rena and Mion from Onikakushi was some really solid writing, and I liked it. But the constant interrogations about whether you should be held accountable for your actions in completely separate realities started to annoy me.

Also I know that it might not be the case, but the last sub-chapter or two, where Rena takes the class hostage, I have serious doubts about whether or not that section even happens. Like when Keiichi dies to zombie Mion in Watanagashi I don't doubt some version of events happens, but I don't think it's a one-to-one with the actual reality of the situation. Also the fact that despite having just resolved everything with a fucking stupid fight scene at the end it all doesn't matter in the slightest because everyone dies from the Hinamizawa Disaster anyway?

I will continue this series, deflated though I am. I remain hopeful that by the end of it Ryukishi07 will be able to bring it all back around like he did with Umineko, but I'm also keenly aware that it very well might all be just down hill from here.

Despite all this I still took over 1400 screenshots. So… I guess that's something.

I'm sorry, but the fact it's even suggesting that "you know what's really behind it all? ALIENS" is just really fucking absurd. Chapters 7 and 8 have some really fucking heavy lifting to do to right this ship and make it end in a way that's just not completely stupid bullshit. I sincerely, truly, and desperately hope that the next chapter is better than this.

[usernoneexistent]

School's out for Summer (August entry for @hp-12monthsofmagic)

Guess this will be the first in a new one shot series with stories behind photos and polaroids.

Warnings: Some spoilers about the cursed vaults

Hogwarts has recently finished the year, and students have returned home for the Summer. Jacob was frustrated that he had only managed to open one of the cursed vaults when, ideally, he would instead do more, though a thing called OWLs was in the way. He already got an earful from his father about his recent increase in detention and a lecture on what happens when he doesn't focus on his studies.

However, the sleepwalking curse had caused many issues: students in the hospital wing, including one who never woke up. He wasn't sure how he felt about it or if he felt anything at all.

Jacob had welcomed his friends Olivia and Duncan to use his house as their meeting point during the holidays. He had a practical attic bedroom and an excellent storage place for their research during the holidays.

Olivia and Duncan came; the younger Slytherin took the knight bus while Olivia used the train to reach his house. Luckily, his father was away hiding at work, and his mother would be fine with his friend over as she had to look after Juniper anyway.

"Did you add all our research to the box? "Olivia inquired, flopping onto Jacob's soft white duvet.

"Aye, Ma and Pa cannae open it, "Jacob assured.

Duncan crouched down to peer at the locked brown box and lifted it to shake. He tried opening it himself but to no avail. The dark wood was chipped and damaged by dropping onto the ground and by age. His family possessed the box for generations passed on by his grandfather. The attic was perfect for hiding research in plain sight. His mother was too busy with his little sister to notice, and his father couldn't care less to rummage through his room.

"Wow, this is sealed tight. "Duncan tried to flick the lock open. He winced as he accidentally scratched his finger on the metal lock. "So no one can access it? "

"Unless they have legilimency. "Jacob stated.

They heard the creeks of the wooden stairs as Duncan hurriedly shoved the box behind him.

"Jacob dear, sorry to disturb you," his mother reluctantly pulled the privacy curtain. It separated the attic by his bed and the rest of the stuff they stored on the other side. "I just wanted to ken if you and your friends want any snacks? Apple juice? Pumpkin pastry?"

"Yeah, do you guys want anything to eat? Ma makes the best pumpkin pie."Jacob asked Duncan and Olivia.

"The pumpkin is freshly grown in our garden." His mum added eagerly.

"Yes please, Ms Moss. "Duncan cheerily answered. Olivia simply nodded. They waited for her to leave.

"Do you think she heard anything? "Olivia lowered her voice.

"No, besides, Juniper is usually very noisy when she plays especially today, "Jacob assured. Downstairs was the muffled babbling of his six-year-old year sister. She was in a huff when Jacob told her to leave him alone when his friends came over, so she was determined to make herself heard as she read anything she could, though most of the stories were made up.

"You can hear her now," Olivia chuckled.

"Aye, she might be mad at me for not letting her hang out with us," Jacob rubbed his hands together.

"She's going to be a handful when she starts Hogwarts." Duncan mischievously grinned. Jacob feared that Duncan would likely teach her and give her prank ideas.

His mum came back with the promised pumpkin pastry and apple juice. She also came along with a camera. His mum has been obsessed with photographing and making photo album scrapbooks for years. She insisted on taking a photo since there were so few of Jacob with his friends. They politely smiled at the picture before leaving the teenagers alone.

"Nice that she gave us copies." Duncan mused at the Polaroid. The smooth picture fiddled between his fingers. He got up, no longer needing to guard the box and looked around Jacob's shelves.

"And mine will end up in some scrapbook." Jacob dryly commented. He placed it on the desk next to the bed.

"But it's still sweet of her to do it. We hardly have any photos of the three of us as it is." Olivia pointed out. The Polaroid was more carefully held in her hands, truly treasuring it.

Duncan pulled something out of his shelves. Rattles followed Duncan's moves as he held a slightly torn cardboard box. "I didn't know you had snakes and ladders?"

"What if I told you I enchanted it to move," Jacob added. Olivia and Duncan gawked at him.

Snakes and ladders was a muggle board game that he found in a flea market nearby. Jacob loved collecting muggle nick-nacks. His grandpa had shown him how to move paintings and objects, bringing them to life.

"Now we have to play it. Budge up!" Duncan squeezed himself between the older Ravenclaws. He sets out the board and counters on the bouncy bed.

"I fully agree." Olivia chimed in.

"Okay then." Jacob half-heartedly chuckled. The cursed vaults can wait another day. However, none of them didn't know that this Summer would be one of the last peaceful days they would have.

[pirepoumon]

still thinking about the venue choice local queer (as in, content about queer people, relationships, transition, etc. regardless of who created it) performances essay i want to write. but i don't know what my point is and i can't write without one.

consistently the warehouse stagings of weirder shows by local arts juggernauts, no matter the theme, are specifically leveraging the sense of intimacy that only a couple rows deep of in-the-round gym chair seating can provide. KYS is the first, imo, of the modern local renaissance and they did it with horror - but even their straight titus andronicus was in Play's (gay bar) warehouse, back when they didn't have their own. the woman in black was a stunning (mostly) two man show, also not queer*.

contrasting as one from ky opera and the woman in black is a large part of what got me thinking about this anyway - the former is a gorgeous two singer opera which was staged in the opera's warehouse, the bar in their library, the organization's history on the walls in the same non-advertising, scrapbook way that is a casual private kind of public, like family photos in a living room. in the post-performance talk the director (who is, in fact, heading ATL but took on his first opera direction this show) talked about the choice to stage it here not only as the intimacy of the physical facts of the space - its size, the stage and seating sharing a floor without demarcation or elevation change - but the intimacy of being in the opera's home, home office and home rehearsal space.

the opera's warehouse is located on magazine street - eighth and magazine, where you can see the great asphalt canyon of the ninth street divide from their parking lot. no preserved facades, no whiskey row art installations, no tourism advertising, just the living legacy of carving the black west end from the city center via the bulldozing and highway-building policies of our 20th century city government. it feels othered, because it is other-than, but i do think that sense of home the opera spoke to is palpable, even if i refrain from pretending i can judge the "authenticity" of a "feeling" of an organization.

ky shakes' hometurf shows haven't been queer, as discussed above, but their shakespeare in dance ballet collaboration shocked me to tears with the public dramatization of both heterosexual and homosexual desire on stage, for free, in the park, all those years ago. and so still it hits that when i walk to their shelby street warehouse for their seasonal halloween show, their private home i have come to visit only blocks away from their public one, i do believe it when Matt Wallace tells me this is YOUR kentucky shakespeare.

it is beyond the scope of this essay i'm not writing to address the similarly your louisville orchestra tagline-obsessed, uh, LO, but that line lands solely in the context of teddy abrams' revival of the making music program in local elementary schools, in its tour of the entire state from east to west that parallels the now-standard miniature parks (and library) tour of kentucky shakes.

there are other considerations, like price (it's easier to swallow KY shakes being ours when its main season is fully free; the opera, reaching out beautifully, is still exceptionally expensive without student tix). the geographical designation in these organization's names are practical to distinguish from other ones elsewhere, sure, but it is essential to their revival**. there are two ways for something to belong to a group whose sole commonality is geographical residence: to invite people in, or to go to their community wherever they are; arts organizations who most embody their own vision of belonging to/serving their neighbors will and must do both.

well i guess this has to be part one because this is basically the perfect setup for re-explaining why the highview mob boss sligo newcastle from the extremely mediocre play the kiss me curse at highview arts center is essentially the pinnacle of local theater ethos. but i am out of time

[drewlyyours]

Rating Nancy Drew Game Moms for Mother’s Day:

Every mom starts out 5/10 for being mom

(Warning: these are just my opinions and I’m a silly lil guy so)

(Oh and spoilers I guess)

Kate Drew (Nancy’s mom)

10/10

-3 hid things from her family because she was a spy and she dies for it :(

+3 SPY MOM

+5 teaches her daughter about how loved she is and about the beauty of music and poetry and helping others

Camille Hurley (doll mom)

10/10

-5 didn’t have kids

+10 OH MY GOSH THATS NOT HER FAULT SHE WANTED THEM SHUT UP SHE HAS HER DOLLS AND WE LOVE HER FOR THAT

Ethel Bossiny (Jane’s tutor while her mother is gone)

6/10

-5 never breeded

+7 breeds chaos consistently

-5 or teaching Jane to be in a cult

+5 for upholding family tradition!

-2 scary as all hell

+4 helps teach Jane life skills and academics while her parents are gone

-3 look where that got her

Linda Penvellyn (Jane’s step-mom)

8/10

-5 Jane has only been in her life like a couple months and hates her

+8 stays even when her husband is not around and she is depleting mentally and physically due to the strain and literal curse this child is putting on her

Renee Penvellyn (Jane’s mom)

7/10

+5 Jane’s favorite mom

+2 opera singer!

-1 hard divorce :(

-4 literally isn’t around and this affects child quite badly

Mrs. Petrov (Linda’s mom)

10/10

+5 literally gets a detective to go investigate why her daughter wasn’t feeling well

-2 doesn’t go herself

+2 would probably fight the entire Penvellyn family (including Mrs. Drake) for her and that’s goals

Mrs. Drake (plant mom)

10/10

+3 loves her plants more than people

+2 won awards for best plants

-1 feeds people to her plants

+1 feeds her plants people

Marion Aborn (“fill-in” mom for Emily)

1/10

-10 not a mom

+10 fills in when Emily’s mom died

-10 basically a literal kidnapper and thief

+1 makes pie

Ezra Wickford (Dexter’s adoptive… dadmom)

8/10

-5 not mom

+10 invented chocolate milk

-4 dexter’s daddy issues

+2 the scrapbook

Kasumi Shimizu (Yumi and Miwako’s mom)

8/10

+5 literally the glue that held their family together

-2 died

Whomever mothered Lori Girard

0/10

-5 clearly did bad

Jing-Jing Ling (my mom)

10/10

+5 makes fresh-baked cookies every day made of love

Charleena Purcell (mother of all romance novels)

8/10

+5 changed Fatima’s life forever

-3 bad at fan interactions

+1 has an illustrious air about her which is the perfect condition for romance novels

Miles the Magnificent Memory Machine (Joy’s Robot Thing)

10/10

-10 is a consciousless robot

+2 made with love and the purpose of distributing love and advice to Joy

+10 even bad memories have a place in a good life

+2 the one consistent thing in Joy’s life even when it may annoy her

+1 I will cry

Rita Hallowell (cat mom)

8/10

+5 for literally being the most iconic duo

-2 Usher becomes a legend for constantly wandering aimlessly at Waverly likely seeking his mother after her death

Hannah Gruen (Nancy’s housekeeper)

10/10

+5 caring for Nancy when her mother died and being wonderful always

Emily Griffen (dog mom)

0/10

-5 USED DOGS FOR NEFARIOUS PURPOSES

+2 probably got dogs from the pound and fed them when no one else would

-2 SPECULATION

Sally McDonald (dog mom)

10/10

+2 takes dogs in even when already stressed in life

+1 keeps all of them

+2 has a lots of land for them to play and be friends and have good doggie lives

Rosalie Thornton (Clara’s mother)

0/10

-3 won’t freaking tell her kid who her father is and then dies

-2 look where that got her!

Clara Thornton (Jessalyn’s mother)

3/10

-5 MURDERS HER COUSIN!!

+1 this point is from Charlotte cause I feel like she would think the guilt this woman carries about that is punishment enough

+3 literally loves her daughter so much truly

-3 lies consistently to her daughter

+2 she has trauma and her family history is kinda disgusting and has been disgusting to her… I kinda get it

[lonelypond]

Idol Protection Program: Champagne Silly

NicoMaki, KanaMari, Love Live, 2.6K, 33/?

Summary: Nico finds a picture and reminds Dia of a time when Mari had a crazy idea and Dia and Kanan got dragged into shenanigans.

Champagne Silly

"Mom?" Dia had no idea where Nico was. She'd been expecting Dia home from college in Tokyo this weekend. Usually there was a little bit of a fuss, certainly Dia's favorite snacks. At this hour, both Ruby and Maki were probably at school, Maki teaching a music class at Numazu College.

"Dia?" Nico's voice. "In here."

Dia hurried to her mother's office, curious what the semi retired Idol and current author and consultant was up to. Ruby hadn't really mentioned anything new so Dia assumed Nico was working on her next book in the series.

Nico was in the center of her office, on a cushion, stacked boxes surrounding her. Were they moving?

"Mom?"

"Hi, bun." Nico waved a hand, the other holding a scrapbook open. "Haven't looked at these in years."

"Muse?" Always Dia's first guess. Had her mom found some new Bibi pictures? Aunt Eli always looked so focused in those.

Nico chuckled, shaking her head, "Dia pictures. Baby Dia pictures." Nico frowned, "Well, Dia, the rebellious years."

"I did not have "rebellious years.""

Nico coughed, "Mari."

Dia flushed, suddenly fidgeting with her hair, arm crossed in front of her torso. Nico smiled into a silent giggle, reminded of another tall goof.

"Let me see that." Dia snapped, grabbing the scrapbook from her insufferable mother.

Nico leaned back, waiting, too experienced to be put off by the moods of tsunderes.

It was a picture of tween, soaked Dia, Kanan, and Mari, Dia looking like she was about to fall back into the Ohara hotel pool, Mari's mother frowning behind them, Maki shaking her hand at the older Ohara, Kanan staring at Mari, blissfully unaware of anything else in the world.

"When did you take this? I don't remember this?"

"Blackmail photo. You were 11. And drunk. On 2 million yen's worth of champagne."

"I was never."

Nico bopped up, at Dia's side much too quickly, then tapped to Mari's left in the picture. The small blonde had her arms wrapped around a magnum of champagne.

"Nico was so annoyed at rich people that night. Your Mama cursed the Oharas for days."

Dia started to remember vague things, a dark night, one of her parent's legendary battles, Maki, in a nightshirt, standing clutching a pillow, saying her family knew when to start children on wine, Nico, in a fluffy pink bathrobe, going ballistic about how juice was fine for her children and why the hell couldn't the Oharas afford a decent lock on their fancy liquor. Dia remembered Ruby, too awake and wide eyed, scared, Nico hugging and shushing her, Dia could hear the pool water splashing, remember the lip wrinkling tartness of the champagne, the coldness of the sudden entry…

Flashback

Mari Ohara was the brightest light in any room. Dia could see that reflected in her best friend's eyes from the very first day they met Mari. Mari was exciting, full of energy, sly, clever, generous, silly…so many things Dia wasn't. Mari was also lonely and scared. Dia and Kanan talked about that a lot, very serious meetings, over very serious tea. They would plan futures when the three would sneak off, taking trains all over Japan, sending their parents postcards, maybe stopping in Tokyo to see the Nishikino grandparents and then finding the best sweet shops. They only had to get Kanan a passport and they could sneak off to Italy or the United States. Dia wanted to visit New York City again, roam around Central Park. All of this seemed like perfectly logical plans for pre teens.

Tonight, Mari had invited them to a party her parents hosted. Dia had dressed in her newest dress, a Minami Kotori original, with deep blue flecks and small golden koi on a lighter blue chiffon fabric. Kanan had worn cute overalls, and a t-shirt from her family's dive shop. Mari looked like a princess, small, with a sparkling white dress almost as wide as she was tall and a tiara. She pulled them into a hug as soon as they arrived.

Dia's Mama had dropped them off, pulling Dia aside for a brief list of things not to do. Dia rolled her eyes as the list went on, "Don't cause any troubles for the Oharas, don't eat too many sweets, don't let Kanan feel lost."

Dia had started humming. Maki sighed,

"Dia." She sharpened her voice and had her daughter's full attention.

"Yes, mama?"

"Have a good time." Maki kissed her forehead, "Call if you need anything."

Mari swept up, fluffing her skirt to its fullest. "They'll be fine, Dia's pretty Mama. I am a meraviglioso hostess."

Maki refrained from glaring at Mari. She could hear Nico laughing at her in her mind if she got upset by a child.

Maki smiled, "Thank you, Mari-san, for taking care of our Dia."

"I take care of myself, Mama." Dia pushed at Maki, whispering, "Stop embarrassing me."

Maki turned to Kanan, "I trust you to be careful."

Kanan nodded, eyes serious.

###

The party had been b-o-r-i-n-g so they followed Mari upstairs to her room. She had a large bag in both hands, holding it close to her chest.

"Mari, let me carry that."

"No, Kanan, it's a surprise. You'll be tutto peppe after. We'll have so much fun."

Kanan giggled.

Dia desperately wanted to peek in the bag. But she was hiding her own contraband, a custom pink themed Burberry bucket bag "borrowed" from Nico, now filled with pastries.

Mari stopped, spinning around. "I want to go swimming."

"I didn't bring my swimsuit."

"Dia, you always sparare a zero my best ideas. We don't need swimsuits."

"You want to go to the beach?"

"No, the pool." Mari giggled, shoved the bag in Kanan's arms, and took off at a run. Kanan and Dia shared a wondering glance.

"We'd better hurry." Kanan decided.

Dia nodded.

Dia's shoes were slower than Mari's ballet flats so Mari was already sitting poolside, her feet bare and kicking the water. Most of the lights were low. Kanan put the bag on the nearest table.

"La bella vita" Mari said, directing water at Dia.

DIa stood behind her. "The pool is closed."

"It's my pool and I say it's open." Mari giggled, waving her arms. "I'm going to marry Kanan, then we're going to go swimming."

"You can't marry Kanan." Dia considered the proposal. Mari was dressed for a wedding. The rest of them weren't. But Kanan was smiling at Mari's suggestion. Then she dropped into the pool, ducked under the water, and leaned on the wall next to Mari, much more relaxed than Dia. They looked so cool together, glowing in the low lights. But weddings needed churches, didn't they? Although her mothers hadn't, there'd been a shrine…

"You need a priest or a monk."

"We have you. You're so serious."

Kanan blinked up at Dia, encouraging.

"Bzzt." Dia crossed her arms. "I'm not getting in the pool."

Mari raspberried, then grumbled and stood up, "All right. What do we do?"

Dia frowned, thinking. "Stand together, look at each other, and hold hands."

Kanan pushed herself out of the pool, shook the water out of her hair, and stood opposite Mari, in a pool of light, taking both Mari's hands in hers.

"Use the champagne to christen us." Mari suggested.

"Champagne?"

"In the bag. Like ships. Champagne will launch our marriage."

Dia looked in the bag. A larger bottle of champagne with a cork unsteadily lodged in its throat. She picked it up, some was missing. Mari must have already drunk some. Dia pulled out the cork. She was a little thirsty. It would be hard to speak with a dry throat. The tartness of the champagne pinched the inside of her mouth and bubbles tickled up to her nose. She threw a hand over her nose, holding back a sneeze.

"ooh, Dia's ready to party."

"I was just thirsty."

"And we'll have some of your cake after. Weddings always have cakes. And champagne."

It seemed like they had everything they needed. Kanan was shivering. It was hard to go from underwater to standing in the chilling night.

"C'mon, Dia. My bella bride is cold."

Dia put the champagne down next to her. She was pretty sure they could all drink it and she wouldn't have to hit anyone with the bottle.

"Do you want to marry Mari, Kanan?" A blunt question.

Kanan nodded.

Dia accepted that answer. Next question.

"Do you want to marry Kanan, Mari?"

"Every day."

Dia picked up the bottle, and prepared to pour it over their hands,

"With this gesture, I pronounce you…" wife and wife, spouse and spouse, partner and partner? "Married." The champagne poured.

Mari cheered, kissed Kanan on the cheek, grabbed the bottle and drank, then offering it to her new bride, who chugged, then nearly sputtered it out at Dia's feet.

"Indirect kiss." Mari giggled.

Dia took the bottle, eager for another taste, wiped the mouth with her sleeve, and raised it up, like a toast, "Congratulations."

"Che figo, Dia, the coolest." Mari announced.

Kanan laughed, taking a longer chug. "Dia still looks so serious."

"Drink up." Mari forced the bottle on Dia and spun them all around. Dia was beginning to feel dizzy.

Suddenly, Mari and Kanan were lifting Dia and all three of them were jumping into the deep end of the pool, the champagne bottle spilling on the ground. When Dia's feet hit the cold water, she screamed, swallowing water as her head went under, and only surfacing, coughing, because Kanan had pulled her up. Mari was backstroking and laugh screaming like a fiend and suddenly Dia heard Mari's mother and some other adult voices.

"What is going on? Mari? Why aren't you in your room?"

###

Nico snuck up behind Maki, running a slow hand up her wife's neck, tangling fingers in her hair.

Maki jumped a little, even though she'd heard Nico's warning lean into the couch.

"Nico-chan!"

"We're alone now. Nico wants some sexy time with her sexy wife."

Maki rolled her eyes, "Dia goes away for the evening and you act like it's our honeymoon."

"Yes and yes." Nico slid over the back of the couch, manuevering Maki into her arms. "Ruby is a much sounder sleeper than Dia and I love to hear you…"

Maki smashed her lips into Nico's to cut off that line of flirting.

"Ooh, so Maki missed NicoTime."

"Stop talking." Maki leaned over, Nico falling back into the couch.

And then Maki's phone went off. Frank Ocean's "Super Rich Kids."

Nico laughed, then remembered the call would probably be about Dia.

"Hello." Maki snapped.

Nico heard yelling.

"Is Dia all right?"

More yelling.

"What's going on?" Now Nico was worried. "Maki?!?!?!!"

Maki shook her head, still listening. Then, barely hiding the anger in her tone. "We'll be right there. We will take both of them home. Do not yell at my daughter."

She dropped her phone and pulled a worried Nico into a hug. "It's okay. Dia's fine. Just wet. The three of them ended up in the pool somehow."

"In the hotel pool? Were they swimming?"

"Fully clothed."

"Why did the Oharas…"

"It seems" and Maki exaggerated Mari's mother's speech style, "The party got out of control."

"I'll get Ruby."

"I can go."

"No, I am not letting you go there by yourself. That never ends well. You can stay home with Ruby."

Maki frowned. "We'll both go."

###

Maki was walking too fast for Nico and Ruby to keep up with. There was a small cluster of agitated adults that Maki strode right into the center of and a smaller clump of sad, wet small children to the side. Nico snapped a picture and then rushed the other way around the pool so she could get to Dia, Kanan, and Mari. She'd brought warm coats for them. They looked frozen.

Maki was hissing, waving a finger in the Oharas's faces.

"Mom! Why did you wake up Ruby?"

Dia, ever critical. Nico ignored that, handing out the coats. Kanan immediately wrapped herself up. Mari was shivering the worst, her dress so thin. "C'mon girls, let's get you inside."

"Nico." Maki's voice used all of her lung power. "We're leaving."

"I'm going to make sure Mari gets inside."

"Dia and Kanan, bring Ruby here, and come with me."

Dia reached out her hand to her sister, who seemed on the verge of tears. Mari and Nico went inside, Mari punching in the passcode. Nico knelt down. Mari looked on the verge of tears.

"Is Dia in big trouble, Kurosawa-san?"

"No, Mari, Dia is not in 'big' trouble. Are you feeling warmer?"

Mari nodded.

"You go right upstairs and tuck yourself into bed. You can call Dia tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Are you going to be all right? Do you need Nico to walk you upstairs?"

Mari inhaled, then shook her head, pride returning to her expression. "It's my hotel."

"It is. A very pretty hotel."

Mari smiled.

"Call Dia tomorrow, Mari. Get some sleep now."

Mari turned around, then paused before hustling toward the elevators.

"Dia has nice moms."

"Tell her that sometime." Nico prepared for a sweeping exit through the group outside. "Good night, Mari.

###

"I don't really remember." Dia hedged.

Nico waved the photo. "Nico has proof."

Dia sighed.

"Mama and the Oharas never really did get along."

"No."

"And Mari's mom never really liked Kanan and me."

"Mari's mother is a very silly woman."

Dia had a wry smile, "She says that about you."

"She knows nothing about Nico." Nico shook her head, "And Nico has no time for haters."

Dia decided to unbend a little, pulling Nico into a hug. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, bun."

"No more blackmail pictures."

"No promises." Nico winked as she released her daughter.

"I'm going to go pick up Ruby."

"Nico will cook a feast."

Dia smiled. She did miss her mother's cooking. Tokyo had nothing like it.

###

N: Your eldest child has arrived.

M: Just say Dia's home.

N: I'm cleaning my office. She saw the drunk as eleven year olds picture

M: Bet she didn't believe it.

N: Bullseye.

M: Don't get me started on the Oharas.

N: Nico wasn't.

N: Nico bets Dia and Ruby meet up with Yoshiko and Hanamaru after dinner. Want to ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)!♡

M: Are you a teenager?

N: 乁༼☯‿☯✿༽ㄏ

N: (͡o‿O͡)

N: (typing)

M: Nico-chan. Stop. Please. I'm on the train.

N: 「(°ヘ°)

N: (｡･ﾟﾟ･(>д<)･ﾟﾟ･｡

M: Save it for later

M: (˘︶˘).｡.:*♡

M: (^.~)

N: (づ￣ ³￣)づ

M: (つ▀¯▀ )つ

N: (*≧▽≦)ﾉｼ))

N: Love you

M: Home soon

N: (ﾉ> ◇ <)ﾉ♪

###

A knock on the hotel room door. Mari opened an eye. After dawn, but still early. She heard Kanan's deep breaths behind her, and grabbed her robe. Outside the door was the concierge.

"Ms. Ohara."

"Yes."

"This was ordered for you. There is a card. It took some time to find this particular bottle."

Curious, Mari allowed him to wheel in the cart, a magnum of mid 20th century vintage Krug on ice amid an array of gorgeous flowers. He left. Mari opened the card. It simply said: "Love, Dia."

"Mari?" Kanan yawned.

"Dia sent us champagne. Perfect for breakfast in bed."

Kanan giggled, "We can't live on champagne."

"Tell Dia that."

"Come back to bed, Mari." Kanan went back to grumbly. "This is our last day on break."

"Unless I …oops…miss the beginning of classes." Mari smirked.

Then Kanan held her arms open, her smile as warm and welcoming as it had been the first day they met. Champagne could wait.

A/N:

Been sick so I've been working on this in small chunks while rebuilding stamina for the writing of Western sagas. Hope you're doing well. I think the Oharas flaunting of their wealth would make Maki grumble, as the Nishikinos are not as flashy, although she would feel some sympathy for Mari, another lonely child.

[handicappedbuenchico]

trashcollected asked:

Favourite trope?

Least favourite trope?

How do you overcome writer’s block?

Who is an author that inspires you?

What’s one random headcanon about your muse that people mightn’t know?

Favorite trope?

Oooh my favorite trope? That's a tough decision. I think if I had to choose one, it would be found family honestly. Especially if it's a band of people that our society deems the outcasts or socially unacceptable (within reason of course.)

2. Least favourite trope?

Now my least favorite trope is a lot less of a tough decision, because I now realize how many of them I have, but my main one that I don't like is The Token ______. Now, I'm not only referring to Token Characters when I say this either, but even Token Plot Devices (like an unnecessarily shoehorned in romance for example). For characters, this trope annoys and infuriates me mainly for the fact that it shows just how blatantly lazy/ignorant a creator actually is. Like they wanted to diversify their cast of characters/create their work to appeal to a certain demographic without doing even basic research beyond some (most of the time very harmful) stereotypes/tropes of said demographic because that was easier I guess. Looking at you BBT creators and SIA. Token plot points, like shoehorned in romantic side-plots, are also very annoying because they're almost never done well and they take away from what could be an otherwise fine work.

3. How do you overcome writer’s block?

I don't really have a set way to overcome writer's block? Sometimes taking a day or two away from writing helps, sometimes pacing around after reading the thing I'm writing to get some kind of idea of what to write next helps, sometimes even waiting until it's really late at night and I'm about to pass out helps. Don't ask me why that last one tends to help me, I have absolutely no idea.

4. Who is an author that inspires you?

Oh my god okay so, the one author who has continued to inspire my writing, and basically showed me that me writing down the words in my head as they come was totally okay and normal, was Alyson Noel. The Immortals series by Alyson Noel basically altered my brain chemistry back when I was between the ages of 9-11. Like the part in Shadowland where Damen and Ever (Spoilers for Shadowland ahead) are about to have sex, but have to stop because of Damen being cursed by Roman to not have physical contact with Ever? 10/10 premium shit that had my 9 year old ass SHOOK to my core. Also, the almost stream of consciousness writing style was very influential to how I still write to this day. Anyone who's rped with me has caught a taste of that I'm sure. Fun fact: The Immortals is the only book series that I still have the physical copies of! It was also my introduction to the concept of Wiccanism and witches in general.

5. What’s one random headcanon about your muse that people mightn’t know?

Spencer:

The escape plan to California was originally Spencer's idea. The original plan was for him and Carlos to escape the shelter, and go to California, in order to start their lives anew together. The only thing he didn't plan for was Tracy catching wind of their plans and forcing her way into them.

Carlos:

Carlos keeps a scrapbook for any and all inspirations for his and Spencer's future wedding. It's basically a book version of the modern day vision/moodboards, but for all the different things he and Spencer have discussed together in terms of interests, favorite flowers/foods/styles/etc., the people they would potentially want at their wedding, the kind of honeymoon they both may want. You know, stuff like that. This scrapbook also contains various photos of the boys from the incognito dates they've been on.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Plum Cobbler

Steve x Barnes!reader, Bucky x platonic!reader

Summary: What happens when Steve confronts the woman who's been sitting outside the compound every Saturday for a month?

Warnings: mentions parental death, some cursing

Word Count: 6315

a/n: This really took on a mind of its own. I was going to make it a series, but I feel like this is the whole story.

Masterlist

Nervous didn't even begin to describe how you were feeling. Sitting in your car, just outside of the entrance gate to the Avenger's compound was never somewhere you thought you'd be. Not until two months ago, when you found your grandmas old scrapbooks.

Of course, you don't know how to get inside. Honestly, you should have seen this coming. Why would just anyone be able to walk up to their door?

"Who are you?" The sudden question startled you, causing you to jump and hit your head on the roof of your car. You turned to look at the source of the voice, shrinking under her watchful gaze.

The one and only Natasha Romanoff was standing outside your car, glaring at you as if she was ready to drop everything to take you out.

"Oh, um. My name is Y/N L/N. I just wanted to talk to Bucky..." Her glare only grew stronger as you revealed why you were there.

"Barnes doesn't talk to strangers." Before you could explain why, she was gone. You watched her walk into the compound until she wasn't in your view anymore.

"Well, that went horribly." You mumbled to yourself. Now what? Should you just sit there until someone else comes out? Will anyone come out?

-

"So who is she?" Clint asked as soon as Nat got back inside.

"Why is she here?" Sam added on.

"Said her name is Y/N L/N, and she wants to talk to Bucky." Nat rolled her eyes.

"Friday, run a background check on F/N L/N." Tony asked of the AI. "What? You can never be too careful, and people shouldn't know how to get here." He explained given the questioning looks from the rest of the group.

"Y/N L/N, 27, daughter of the deceased Kathleen and Grant L/N. She owns a bookstore in Brooklyn, passed down through her family. No criminal record." Friday responded quickly.

"Sounds normal enough, probably a fan?" Tony suggested, looking around the room.

"A persistent one. She's been here for hours." Steve looked out the window, still seeing your car just outside the gate. "How did she find the entrance?"

Everyone shared similar looks, unsure how a seemingly normal civilian found the gate.

"Excellent question, Capsicle. Friday, got any ideas?" Tony, as usual, turned to the AI for answers.

"Based on GPS data from her car, she drove around upstate New York for eight hours every Saturday for the last 6 weeks until she came across the side road leading to the compound."

"Either she's really good at looking normal, or she's just normal." Nat added on, still slightly suspicious.

"Well, she just left. I guess we're not getting any answers today." Steve said from his position still looking out the window.

-

You came back every Saturday for a month. You didn't know if anything would come of it, but you'd be damned if you didn't try. After your parent's deaths, you thought you had no family left. Finding out you were related to Bucky gave you a lifeline. Something to cling to when you felt alone.

So far, nobody else had come to talk to you. You didn't even know if Bucky knew you were there for him.

The fifth Saturday, you pulled your car up to the gate at 9 am, sticking to your makeshift schedule of waiting outside for the entire day. They had to at least be curious as to why you kept coming back.

Unfortunately for you, the weather upstate today was not the same as the weather in Brooklyn.

Around 10:30, it started to rain. Just a sprinkling, nothing you couldn't handle.

You listened to music, read, ate the lunch you packed, played games on your phone, anything to pass the time. You weren't going to force your way inside, but you were definitely going to show that you were interested.

Typically, you would leave at 5:30. It gave you enough time to drive home and heat up dinner, plus you had to check in on your cat.

Today, however, was a different story. Around 5:15, it started pouring. Sheets of water were coming down around you, completely cutting off any visibility through the windshield.

You figured you'd just wait out the rain, but when it didn't let up by 6, you were getting nervous.

-

"She's still here." Steve walked into the kitchen, announcing his news to the room.

"I'm not surprised. It's not exactly peak driving conditions out there." Sam easily responded, glancing out the window.

"Aren't you the least bit curious as to why?" Steve asked again, pushing the same conversation as always.

Nearly everyone in the room rolled their eyes, sick of repeating the same things.

"Look, we figured if we ignored her, she'd eventually stop. Clearly, that might not be working. If you're so curious, feel free to go ask her." Tony gave in, eager to move on from the discussion of you.

Steve contemplated his choices for all of 2 seconds before grabbing an umbrella and walking down the driveway.

-

You had your head leaned back against the headrest, eyes closed, listening to the rain. Of course you would get stuck here. Why didn't you ever check the weather?

You shrieked when a knock sounded on your passenger side window, not having expected anyone, especially in the rain.

Mr. America himself pointed to the door, gesturing for you to unlock it. You sat up quickly, rushing to hit the unlock button.

He quickly opened the door, shutting his umbrella and lowering himself into the small car.

You were utterly speechless. After your brief encounter with Natasha, you didn't really expect anyone to come talk to you.

Sure, you came back every week, but it was more so to fill the lonely hours you would have normally spent with your parents at the bookstore.

You had other employees to run the shop on Saturdays, allowing you to come here instead.

"Why are you here?" He sounded more curious than anything. Clearly he didn't perceive you as a threat, which was good because you had zero fighting experience.

"To talk to Bucky." Your voice was quiet, unsure how much you should share.

"I know that. Why?" He had fully turned in his seat to look at you, his large frame filling nearly the entire car.

"Well, I found something a few months ago that I thought he should know." You stuttered through your response, mildly intimidated by the man in front of you.

"And that something is?" He questioned further, genuinely curious as to what you want to tell his best friend.

You hesitated, eyes flitting around the car, looking at anything but him. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair before speaking again.

"Look, if you ever want to actually talk to him, you should tell me. Buck's been through hell, he won't just talk to anyone. Especially if he has no reason to."

During your conversation, the rain finally let up. You decided to take that as a sign.

"Can I show you something?" You finally looked him in the eye, nearly forgetting why you were even here at the sight of his bright blue eyes.

"Is it the reason you've been out here every Saturday for over a month?" He joked with you, helping to calm your nerves.

You nodded in response, unsure if you could even speak while still looking into his eyes.

"Then please."

You tore your eyes from his face, throwing the car into reverse and backing out of the spot you've claimed as your own. You turned around, heading back to your apartment in Brooklyn.

"Wha- where are we going?" He's clearly surprised by your actions, but he doesn't seem worried.

"I'm going to show you what I found, and hopefully you'll let me talk to Bucky." You paused for a minute, thinking. "Although, really I guess it should be his choice. Maybe you can just give him a message for me, and if he doesn't want to talk I'll leave you all alone."

The idea of never getting to know Bucky, you're only remaining family, hurts, but it's got to be his decision.

Steve just nods in response, still slightly wary of your reasons for wanting to talk to Bucky.

When you're a few minutes away from your apartment, you decide to give him some context.

"You probably already know a lot about me, but let me explain a few things." He silently nods, encouraging you to continue.

"My parents died three and a half months ago." You immediately felt like crying, but did your best to hold it in. Of course, Steve didn't miss the break in your voice. "It was a car accident. The weather was bad. They lost control of the car. They were both pronounced dead on the scene." You parked the car, turning slightly to look at him.

"They were the only family I've ever had, and the were both just gone." You turned and opened the car door, taking a moment to wipe the tears from your eyes. You gestured for him to follow you, locking the car and heading inside your apartment building.

"We were really close. I spent every Saturday at the bookstore with them." You wiped the tears again as the elevator doors closed.

You didn't chance looking at Steve, knowing you would break down at the look of pity.

"I had to go through the stuff at their house. You know, decide what to bring here, what to put in storage, what to get rid of. I found some old scrapbooks, I think from my great grandma."

You lead him into your apartment, locking the door and immediately heading to the kitchen to feed your cat. After you set down the food, you moved to the couch. You had the scrapbooks on the coffee table, having taken every opportunity to look through them.

"I never knew her. My parents didn't talk about her either, I'm not sure if they knew who she was. Her name was Rebecca." You waited a beat, to see if he would understand. When he remained quiet, you handed him one of the books, open to a page with a picture of Steve, Bucky, and Rebecca. "Rebecca Barnes."

You waited again, letting the information sink in for him. After a few minutes he smiled.

"I remember this day." He looked at you, a wide smile on his face. "It was a few days before Bucky was enrolled. We had a picnic." He continued to reminisce, looking through the other pictures in the scrapbook.

"Maybe it's selfish, maybe he won't want to know me, but when I found out I had more family, I wanted to find him." Again, tears pooled in your eyes. "I, I just don't want to be alone."

Steve's smile faltered as he realized what you've been going through, and how you've been doing it alone.

"Hey, I'm sure he'll want to talk to you." He reached out to place a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you.

"Really?" Your eyes were still watery, but a small smile grew on your face.

"I think so. Bucky was really close with his sister when we were young." This time, Steve's eyes grew watery, memories of his youth playing through his mind.

You couldn't take the sight of him being sad, so you pulled him into a hug. He came willingly, letting you bury your face in his chest. He lowered his head so it was overtop of yours, relishing in the comfort of your hug.

You pulled away a few minutes later, not wanting to overstep, but the feeling of his arms around your waist didn't let you go far.

"Thank you for coming out to my car." You laughed, trying to lighten the mood. His face was so close to yours, you could make out the individual shades of blue in his eyes.

"Thank you for sharing your story with me." He whispered back, not wanting to break the moment.

You're not sure how long you would've stayed like that, but a loud crack of thunder jolted you apart.

"What the-" You mumbled, walking over to the window to look outside. Steve followed close behind you, also curious about the weather.

It was now pouring, lightning and thunder cracking overhead.

"I guess the storm followed us to Brooklyn." He joked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I guess so." You looked at the clock, taking in the late hour.

Steve must've followed your line of sight, because he spoke up. "It's getting late, I should probably go."

You immediately shook your head, your fear of travelling in bad weather shining through. "I can't let you leave when it's like this. It's not safe. You, um, you can stay here tonight. You can sleep in my room. I'll sleep on the couch." You grew more confident as you kept talking.

"I couldn't impose like that." Steve shook his head, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"Steve, it's not safe to travel when it's raining like that. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you." Your voice grew tighter, trying not to flashback to the day your parents died.

Steve seemed to realize why you were so worried about the weather, ultimately deciding to agree to stay so you wouldn't worry about him.

"Okay, okay. I'll stay here, but you sleep in your bed. I'll be fine on the couch." He refused your offer, not wanting to force you to spend a night on the couch.

"First of all, thank you. Second of all, you are sleeping in the bed. You're like two feet taller than me." You exaggerated your height difference, but you were trying to make a point. "You won't even be able to lay down on the couch. I take naps here all the time, it's super comfortable." You argued back, unwilling to allow Captain America himself sleep on your tiny ass couch.

"You know, I should've expected you to be this stubborn. You spent five weeks waiting outside the compound with no contact. Plus you're related to Bucky" He laughed to himself, slightly shaking his head. "Fine, I'll sleep in the bed."

You smiled victoriously, jumping up from the couch. "Yay! Do you need anything? I have spare toothbrushes under the sink, and I can probably find you some clothes to sleep in. There's some snacks in the kitchen if you get hungry. Oh! And Carrot might try to lay in the bed with you, but I'll try to keep her out here." You rambled, trying to make sure he was comfortable.

"Carrot?" He smiled at your rambling, finding it adorable.

"Yes! Carrot is my cat. She's a cuddler, so consider yourself warned." You paused, eyes growing wide. "You're not allergic to cats are you? I think there's probably cat fur all over my room."

He laughed again. "No, I don't think the super soldier serum left any room for allergies." He quipped.

You smacked a hand to your forehead. "Duh! Anyway, do you need anything?" You asked again, trying to calm your beating heart.

"Some clothes would be great, thank you." The way he smiled at you did nothing to soothe your nerves.

"Okay." You breathed out, finally taking a deep breath. "I'll go grab some, the bathroom is right here if you need it." You pointed it out on your way to your room. "I'm just gonna get changed real quick, and then I'll be back with your clothes."

He nodded again, watching as you turned and walked into what must be your room.

You quickly changed into a t-shirt and sleep shorts. It took a few minutes of searching through boxes, but eventually you found an old pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt for Steve to sleep in.

You made your way out of the bedroom, handing him the clothes.

"Here ya go. Like I said, there are extra toothbrushes under the sink in the bathroom, and don't hesitate to grab anything you need from the kitchen."

He eyed the clothes in his hands, wondering where they came from, but not wanting to ask.

Luckily for him, you could tell what he was wondering. "They were my dad's." A sad smile graced your face. "I- I sleep in them sometimes when I really wish I could talk to him."

"Thank you." Steve turned to go to bed, but changed his mind last minute. He set the clothes down on the couch, pulling you into another hug. "You know, I can tell your related to Buck. He always looks out for people too."

You blushed at the compliment, grateful he couldn't see your face. "Thank you, that really means a lot." You stayed like that until Steve pulled back to talk to you again.

"I can take you back to the compound tomorrow, if you want. Maybe introduce you to Bucky."

"Really?! You don't want to talk to him first? Or double check anything I told you?" You were shocked at how willing he was to introduce you to Bucky.

"I trust you. Plus, I think you should be the one to tell him." Steve didn't say it out loud, but he also thought you and Bucky would be good for each other.

Bucky had Steve to connect his past and present, but another person for him to rely on wouldn't hurt. And you clearly were looking for a family connection.

"I would love to. Thank you!" You hugged him again, although quicker this time. You jumped back, excited to collect everything you wanted to show him. "I have to find all the scrapbooks to show him!"

When you turned to start collecting things, Steve put a hand on your shoulder, essentially preventing you from moving.

"Why don't we get everything together in the morning? It's getting late and you should get some sleep." He understood how emotionally and physically draining it could be to relive a loss like yours.

"You're right. I should sleep." You tried to slow your mind down, but the prospect of meeting Bucky tomorrow filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves. You gathered your extra blankets and pillows, setting up a bed for yourself on the couch while he went into the bathroom.

You were snuggled in bed, ready to sleep when he came back out.

"Goodnight, Steve."

His heart contracted at how adorable you looked buried in blankets on the couch, but he did his best to ignore it. He'd only just met you after all.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

-

The next morning Steve woke up at 5, per usual. He didn't want to wake you up though, so, despite his natural tendencies to run 10 miles every Sunday morning, he stayed in bed.

That is, until he heard you shuffling around the apartment.

He poked his head out of the room first, trying to verify that you were indeed awake. When he saw you in the kitchen, he fully emerged intent on helping you with whatever you were doing.

"Good morning, you're an early riser?" His question was completely ignored. Granted you couldn't see him yet, but he didn't know why you would be ignoring him.

He made his way closer to you, tapping you on the shoulder to try and get you to interact with him.

You, in a mixture of surprise and fear, turned and threw an egg at him.

He looked at you in shock, while you stared in horror at what you had just done.

You took headphones out of your ears, explaining why you hadn't heard his question.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" You reached toward him with a dish towel, trying to wipe the egg off his (your dad's) shirt. "You just surprised me! I can get you another shirt!"

"It's fine, don't worry-" You ran out of the room anyway, grabbing another shirt of your dad's from the box in your room.

He couldn't help but laugh, oddly relieved that you weren't ignoring him.

When you reentered the kitchen, a shirtless Steve Rogers was washing your dad's shirt in the sink. You froze, taking in the sight of the man before you.

When he turned back around, your eyes took on a mind of their own, soaking in his toned chest and arms. You cleared your throat, shaking yourself out of your stupor to hand him the other shirt.

"Thanks." He smirked, but still blushed slightly before he put it on, ringing out the other shirt before handing it to you. "I didn't want the egg to stick to it since it was your dads, so i rinsed it off..." he trailed off, unsure if it was the right thing to say.

"That's really sweet, thank you. Especially because it was my fault there was even egg on it in the first place." You laughed, trying not to blush with embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it, really. I shouldn't have snuck up on you." He laughed as well, clearing any lingering tension. He took a look around the kitchen, taking in just how much stuff you had out.

"What are you making?" He smiled when you blushed again.

"Oh, I was making plum cobbler... I just, I read online that Bucky likes plums, so I thought I would bring him a cobbler." You blushed again, embarrassed by the admission.

"He does." Steve smiled, completely enamoured with your personality. "Did you want some help?"

"Actually, the cobblers are in the oven already. I was going to make breakfast next, though, so you can help with that." You smiled, noting how easy it was to spend time with him.

"Cobblers? I know Bucky's a super soldier, but one would have been plenty." He joked with you, moving to help scramble some eggs.

"Well, yeah. One is for him, but then I thought the other Avengers might be there and I didn't want to not have enough so I made three."

"You're too cute." The words slipped out before he could even think about what he was saying.

You blushed again, a frequent occurrence it seems when you're with Steve.

You uttered a quick thanks, trying to change the subject. "Do you always get up this early?"

He chuckled again. "Yeah, typically I don't need much sleep. I usually run in the mornings, try to clear my head."

The two of you fell into easy conversation, moving around each other effortlessly to make eggs, sausage, toast, and smoothies for breakfast.

When you finished eating, you collected the scrapbooks Bucky might want to see. You added his mom's wedding ring, the one your mom wore as well, to the box.

"What's that?" Steve pointed to the box, unsure if his assumption was correct.

You pulled out two scrapbooks, pointing to the near identical pictures of Bucky's mom and your mom after having been proposed to.

"My mom always told me her engagement ring was a family heirloom. I think it was his mom's ring too. I thought he might like to have it. As something to remember her by, ya know?"

You got teary eyed again. Thinking about how much he must miss his family combined with how much you miss your own parents was too much to handle.

You finished gathering everything, putting it all in a box to make for easier transportation. You took the cobblers out of the oven, packing them as well.

With a deep breath, you followed Steve back out to your car, ready to talk to Bucky.

-

"Where the hell is Steve?" Bucky nearly stormed into the kitchen.

"Whoa, calm down tinman. What's up?" Sam replied casually, pouring cereal into a bowl.

"Where is Steve? I was supposed to run with him this morning, but he wasn't in his room when I went to find him. I don't even like running this early. I literally only do it because it's what he prefers."

Sam laughed, enjoying anything that annoys Bucky. "Dude, chill. He probably just forgot you were going with him."

Tony walked into the kitchen as well, trying to tune out the whines coming from Bucky, but failing.

"That's what I though, but he's always back by now." Bucky huffed, annoyed with Sam for laughing.

"Who?" Tony asked, now slightly intrigued.

"Steve. I haven't seen him since yesterday." Bucky replied as he angrily ate an apple.

"Really?" Tony sounded mildly concerned, immediately alerting Sam and confusing Bucky.

"You don't think?" Sam asked, ignoring Bucky for the time being.

"I don't know!" Tony looked bewildered. "Friday, where is Capsicle?"

"Captain Rogers left yesterday evening with Y/N L/N." The AI easily replied.

"Who?" Bucky questioned the room, never having learned your name.

"You know the woman who's been sitting outside every Saturday?" Bucky nodded to Sam, unsure why he was bringing it up. "Well, Steve went to ask her why she was here last night."

"Nat told me she was just some fan, wanted to see you all." Bucky furrowed his brow, thinking over the new information on Steve's wearabouts.

"Well, yeah that's what we thought. Look, she said she wanted to talk to you specifically." Sam explained, ignoring the pointed glare from Tony.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Bucky rose from his chair, annoyed at everyone now. "Now she's got Steve?"

"Relax, Steve can handle himself. She cleared her background check. We really don't have any reason to believe he's in danger." Tony's words were more to convince himself than anyone else. He's the one who said Cap should go check it out if he was so curious.

"Steve's too trusting. What if it was a trap?" Bucky questioned, glaring daggers at the other two men.

Before they could respond, Friday chimed in with more information.

"Captain Rogers just entered the elevator from the parking garage."

"See, he's fine." Tony glared back at Bucky, secretly relieved that Steve was fine.

Bucky just rolled his eyes before leaving, heading for the elevators to yell at Steve for ditching him this morning.

When the elevator doors opened, however, Steve was not alone.

"Hey, punk, why'd you ditch me- Oh. Who are you?" Bucky eyed you suspiciously, looking between you and Steve.

Before Bucky interrupted, Steve was trying to reassure you that everything would work out. He had a hand on your back, rubbing up and down to soothe your nerves.

His other arm was occupied by the box of scrapbooks, or else he probably would have hugged you again.

You were holding a large sheet pan, three pie dishes sitting on top.

Steve was blushing, a surefire sign Bucky had seen something he wasn't supposed to.

"Oh, um. Hi. My name is Y/N L/N." You froze, not thinking you would have to see him so soon. You could see the family resemblance between him, your great grandma, and your mom.

"The car girl." He nodded, trying to piece together the events of last night.

"Yep, that's me." You laughed nervously, unsure of what he already knew.

"Buck, do me a favor? Let us out of the elevator." Steve eyed him, mildly annoyed with the ambush.

Bucky moved to the side, allowing you and Steve to exit the elevator. You followed Steve down the hall to the kitchen, where you put the cobblers on the counter.

Sam and Tony were still there, eating various foods.

"Well, hello there." Tony greeted when he spotted you, intrigued by the development. He looked at Steve for an explanation.

"Y/N made plum cobbler." Steve said instead, moving his hand back to the small of your back.

Bucky's eyes lit up at the mention of plums, enough to momentarily distract him from Steve's actions.

"Oh, right!" You took a cobbler out of the dish, moving toward Bucky. "This one's for you, because I read that you liked plums." You handed him the dish, quickly moving back to the others. "I also made a peach and an apple for everyone else." You smiled at Tony and Sam, unknowingly leaning slightly into Steve.

"Why does he get a special cobbler?" Sam whined, eagerly reaching for the other dishes.

Suddenly, all eyes were on you. Well, except Sam's who were on the peach cobbler.

"Oh, um, well, I was hoping I could talk to you." You looked at Bucky nervously, unsure of how he would respond.

"Anyone who bakes me a plum cobbler can talk to me, Doll." Natasha chose that exact moment to enter the room.

"Who made plum cobbler?" She looked around the room, eyes narrowing in your direction. "How did you get in here?"

"I brought her." Steve smiled at you before walking over to Natasha. He whispered in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear, but nobody else. "She's not a threat to your relationship, trust me."

Nat nodded her head, trusting Steve, although not for the reasons he thought. She could clearly see the blonde's affinity for you.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Bucky asked between bites of cobbler.

"It's really a private conversation." Steve answered for you, seeing how unsure of yourself you were.

"Then why do you know, punk?" Bucky countered.

"Well, I had to tell someone so I could finally talk to you. Steve's the one who asked." You smiled at Steve again, trying to convey how grateful you were with just a look.

Steve smiled back at you, while everyone in else just shared a knowing look.

Eventually, Steve cleared his throat. "Buck, can you just come with us?"

Bucky nodded, moving to follow Steve while still eating the cobbler. You followed the two of them as well, growing more nervous with each step.

Steve lead you to his room, placing the box of scrapbooks on the bed.

"Do you want me to stay?" Steve looked to you for an answer.

You took a deep breath, in all honestly you would love for him to stay, but you think you should probably just talk to Bucky first.

"No, that's okay. Come back in like, 30 minutes?" You scrunched up your face, unsure if 30 minutes was long enough, but knowing you would need the deadline if you were ever going to explain it all to Bucky.

Steve nodded, squeezing your shoulder as he passed you to leave the room.

"Um," you turned to Bucky, trying to think of where to start. "I don't know what you already know about me, but-"

"Nothing really. Except that you make a delicious plum cobbler." He smiled, helping to ease your nerves. Food really was the way to this man's heart.

"Oh, I guess I'll start where I started when I told Steve." You smiled at the mention of his name, unaware of your own actions. But Bucky noticed.

"My parents died a few months ago." Bucky's eyes went wide, trying to think of what this could have to do with him. "Um, it was a car accident. They both died on the scene." You took a deep breath, trying to push through the sad parts.

"I had to clean out their house, and I found some scrapbooks that lead me to you." You shifted closer to the bed, looking through the scrapbooks you brought.

You pulled out the one with the first picture you showed Steve, opening it and gesturing for Bucky to take it.

He set the cobbler on Steve's nightstand, cautiously reaching for the book. He looked at the picture for a long time before saying anything. And when he did talk, it was a whispered "Becca..."

He ran his fingers over the picture slowly, just staring. A few minutes later, he eagerly flipped the page. He spent a good 10 minutes just looking through all the books you handed him.

"Where did you get these?" He questioned, although not accusingly.

"I found them in my parents house. They were with a bunch of my grandma's stuff that she had from her mom." You wanted to ease him into it.

"So your great grandma..." He trailed off, disbelief clear across his face.

"Was Rebecca Barnes." You finished the sentence for him, nerves clear in your voice.

You weren't sure what to say next, so you waited for him to make the next move.

"So you're my... great-grand niece?" You nodded at his question, still unsure if he was happy with the news. "God, that makes me feel old."

You nearly cackled, surprised by the joke. He smiled when you laughed, glad to have cleared some of the tension.

"Why did you want to find me?" He questioned, the mood turning more serious again.

"Well, I was really close to my parents. They were the only family I had. When I found out you are family too, I just... I knew I needed to at least tell you." You shrugged at the end, unsure if you really answered his question.

"You wanted to tell me so badly that you sat outside the compound every Saturday for five weeks even after being ignored?" He was in shock that anyone would spend that much time and effort just to talk to him. You started panicking immediately.

"I'm so sorry if you didn't want to know! It was selfish of me to force this on you. I can go, if you want. You don't have to talk to me." You started questioning everything. You moved to put the books back in the box when he stopped you.

"Oh, um. I'm sorry, you can keep those. If you want!" Tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks when you remembered the ring. You froze with your hand in the box, not knowing if you'd want to part with it knowing you'd never see Bucky again.

"Y/N..." Something in the way he said your name made you look at him. "I- I'm glad you told me. Really glad. I, uh, I never thought I would have family, well besides Steve. You know what I mean." He ran a hand through his hair, and you noticed the tears in his eyes.

"I don't want you to go. It's just hard for me..." he paused, trying to figure out his emotions. "It's hard to believe that someone would care about me that much."

"Bucky, I don't know you." He frowned at your statement. "But, I would love to get to know you." You smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.

"I'm not so sure you would." His face was hard, staring at the ground.

"Bucky, you aren't a bad person. I mean, sure you've done bad things, but it wasn't your choice. You were forced to do those things. You can't let yourself be defined by them. You're here aren't you?"

"Here?" He questioned.

"Working with the Avengers, I mean. You go on missions to help save people. That's your choice. That's who you are. I would be honored to get to know that person."

You smiled, waiting for him to say something.

"Are you sure?" He still looked unsure.

"God, maybe I get my stubbornness from you." You both laughed at that. "I am 100% sure."

"Wow." He shook his head, still in shock.

A knock sounded on the door before Steve came back in. "Is now a good time?" He asked, still standing in the doorway.

You nodded appreciatively. "Thank you." You pulled him into a hug, needing the emotional support.

"Of course. I'm happy I could help." He rubbed your back, reciprocating the hug. "Did you give him the ring yet?" He asked when you took a step back.

You shook your head, reaching into the box for the last item. "I, um, I thought you might want this." You handed him the box, nerves peaking through again.

He opened it, a soft smile on his face when he recognized it. "My mom's engagement ring."

You smiled, happy that he recognized it. "It was my mom's as well."

The two of you stared a the ring for awhile, reminiscing on time spent with your parents.

Eventually, Bucky picked the cobbler back up, not wanting to let it go to waste.

Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes at his friend. "Wow, jerk. You're just gonna go back to eating."

"Yes, punk. My great-grand niece made me a plum cobbler, and I tend to fully enjoy it."

"Great-grand niece. Ha, that makes you sound so old."

It was fun for you to see the two interacting like this, especially after the emotional hurdles you just ran.

"It's fine, Stevie. Let him enjoy the cobbler." Your face went red, not having meant to use the nickname.

"Yeah Stevie, let me enjoy the cobbler." Bucky couldn't help but poke fun, knowing there was an unspoken attraction between the two of you.

Somehow your face got even redder. Steve just rolled his eyes.

"Fine, eat your cobbler. Only because I had some of the apple one and it was delicious. It would be a shame to waste any."

You smiled at the compliment, embarrassment subsiding a bit. Steve sat down on the bed between you and Bucky, eager to ask his friend about some of the pictures. Steve put his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder as he spoke to Bucky.

You felt your eyes growing heavy, exhausted since your nerves kept you up most of the night. You rested your head on Steve's shoulder, soaking in his warmth as you cuddled closer.

Steve just rubbed your arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the interaction, realization dawning on his face.

"Oh my god. My best friend likes my great-grand niece. And she likes him." He said it so matter of fact, the two of you didn't bother denying it. You just smiled, and cuddled closer together.

[urimaginespimp]

The Wrong Bait

Bucky x Reader  

You, Bucky, Nat, and Sam are undercover in a Gala. Nat was supposed to be the one to get close to the target, but the initial plan goes down the drain when the target starts hitting on you instead. 

--------

Your role in this mission was simple: blend in with the guests, be on the lookout for Nat’s target, make sure nobody gets hurt. The man wasn’t that much harmless, but he was working with sketchy people.  

This was probably one of your most laid-back missions yet, and it could’ve been taken cared of by other agents, but you, Nat, Bucky, and Sam wanted jumped on the possibility of a fancy night out after a day of pure boredom.

“I don’t have sight on the target yet.” you spoke in a low voice in the intercom.

“Neither do I.”

“Negative.”

Bucky and Sam replied at the same time.

The satin floor-length gown you had on was enough to be appropriate for the occasion, and at the same time take your boyfriend’s breath away.

“I told you, quit having those heart eyes or I’ll poke them out.” Sam’s hushed voice came into the device again, confusing you.

“Who are you talking to?” you asked as you moved your way through a busy sea of people chatting along, and you took a seat by the bar.

“Your simp of a boyfriend.” Nat snorted an answer in behalf, making your cheeks burn at the flattery.  

Turning your seat and scanning through the faces in the room, your eyes finally met your boyfriend’s who was standing by the corner in his well-tailored suit, ignoring the unsubtle adoring stares sent his way by other guests.

“I don’t have hearts on my eyes.” Bucky muttered weakly in defense, sending you a shy smile that you mirrored, which of course was seen by Sam from who knows which corner he’s hiding.  

“Don’t make me go over there and smack that grin off you.” Sam threatened, thought you could hear the mirth in his voice.

But because of that little conversation the four of you had, you all missed to note that the target had made his way by the bar himself, and was now sitting beside you.

“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” A deep voice asked you on your side. Turning your head his way, you stared right into the eyes of the man whose picture was flashed during briefing. Curses were heard through your earpiece.  

Composing yourself, you knew you couldn’t blow it. But there was a reason why Nat was the one to interact with the target and not you. And that is the well-known fact that you are bad at flirting.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.” You found yourself answering with a smile, though you were pretty much kicking yourself now in your head.  

“I am too sober for this.” you heard Sam mutter once again in your earpiece.

However, instead of being put off by your response, the target seemed to find it amusing. “So, I’m a nice girl now too, eh? I guess we nice girls should be sticking together.” he winked at you before taking a swing from his own drink.

A scoff from undoubtedly Bucky, came through.  

“I think I located the secret room. Y/N keep him there so I can get what we need and leave smoothly.” Nat instructed, and you almost let out a groan from frustration.

“You’re blushing.” The man commented, bringing your attention back.

“I'm not blushing. Your face is just so hot that I got sunburned.” you attempted to redeem yourself but failed once again. You winced.

“Wow, you’re on a roll, Y/N” the tone in Sam’s voice implied that he was close to losing it.  

“In a hotel ballroom at night?” the man let out a boyish laugh, shaking his head at you. “Come on, don’t let me deteriorate your confidence.”  

From his reactions so far, this might actually be easier.  

“Uh... People call me Y/fake/N, but you can call me tonight?” you tried to sound confident, but it was evident in your face that you were cringing.

“Keep going, darling, I might just fall in love with you.” he was still grinning at you in amusement.

“Quit flexing, Buck. We get it, you have a jawline.” Sam spoke once again, amused at seeing how hard Bucky was clenching his jaw from across the room.

“I’m about to break this guy’s jaw.” he replied through the intercom in all seriousness.

Clearing your throat, you hope that Bucky will forgive you for what’s about to come out of your mouth next. “It’s working then. I mean I would flirt, but I often seduce men with my awkwardness.” you smiled.

Nat who was being all stealthy in the secret room couldn’t help but comment. “Isn’t that your comeback to Bucky after all those teasing about your awkwardness?”  

“Yep. The very same one that got him to kiss her.” Sam added to her comment.

“I didn’t know you guys kept a scrapbook of our relationship.” Bucky replied in annoyance. “It’s alright, darling.” He assured you, his tone softer.

“I owe you one.” you found yourself replying, confusing the man in front of you.

“What?” He asked.

“I- I owe you a dance!” you quickly excused from mini panic, and pull him to the dance floor. It felt really wrong, especially when the reason you even learned how to dance was also because of Bucky, who has since then gone quiet.  

The man himself was good on the dancefloor, but you couldn’t help getting distracted from your own guilt, when you finally spot Nat by the exit, giving you a nod as a signal that you were free to go.  

“I have to go!” you exclaimed a little too excitedly.

“Why so?” The man before you asked, slightly annoyed.

“I just have two hundred-year-old men at home. They’re kinda traditional and need me home by now.” you reasoned smoothly.

“Two?” he inquired.

“Yeah, people keep joking they might be more than platonic though.” you chuckled and waved at him while already making your way to the exit.

Once outside, you turned right around the corner to where Bucky was already waiting, while Nat and Sam were already inside the car waiting. You gave him an apologetic smile, and was ready to apologize when he pulled you into him and kissed you, almost in a desperate manner.

Pulling away, you saw that there was a glint of smile in his eyes. “You’re not mad?” you asked and he shook his head with a smile.

“Maybe just a little jealous.” He answered.

“A little?!” Sam called out from the car, with the window down. “Get your assess in here so we can go home.”

Before you could reach out the door, your boyfriend pulled you into him once again and gave you a peck before giving you a playful scolding look.

“Don’t think that I didn’t hear what you said about Steve and I, doll.”

--------

Y/N: This is short, but I’ve been having a bad case of writer’s block and just slowly working my way through it. Lol.

HAVE A NICE DAY!

[kastlequill]

— overview

➤ dc animated universe (jlu) ➤ cdramas (tlb, lbfad) ➤ euphoria (2019) ➤ call of duty (mw, mw2, ghosts) ➤ across the spider-verse ➤ resident evil (re2r, 4r, 6) ➤ jujutsu kaisen ➤ misc (sw)

— status

» currently writing

➜ whumptober • 'til my pulse loses time: iv (gaz) • unearth without a name: v (keegan) • do not go gentle into that good night — (satosugu) • sanctuary moon — (ghost) • that human, that demon: chapter three — 9.1k (ghost)

» recently posted

✔︎ illusion — 3.1k (itafushi) ➜ whumptober ⚠︎︎ unearth without a name: iv — 2.3k (keegan) ✔︎ collateral — 2.5k (thranto) ✔︎ when it rains (it pours) — 9.2k (gojohime) ⚠︎︎ 'til my pulse loses time: iii — 1.7k (gaz) ✔︎ wrath of the lamb — 6.9k (krueger) [tumblr] ✔︎ ii. for you my love i kill — 6.5k (miguel) [tumblr] ⚠︎︎ that human, that demon: chapter two — 11k (ghost)

dc animated universe

justice league (unlimited)

— wonder woman x batman

scrapbook - 3/5; Exploring the stages of Diana and Bruce’s complex relationship in the form of various prompt-filled drabbles. (3.2k) (t)

spring - 1/1; Diana is not okay. He has noticed. (2.6k) (t)

cdramas

the long ballad (chang ge xing)

— chang ge x ashina sun

lay in your echo - 1/1; What if Sun had been unable to stop that Ashina soldier from killing Chang Ge? - for Whumptober (2.5k) (m)

bitesized - 15/15; A series of drabbles that offer a glimpse into Chang Ge and Ashina Sun’s unique dynamic. (2.7k) (t)

love between fairy and devil (cang lan jue)

— xiao lanhua x dongfang qingcang

⭆ two slow dancers (last ones out) (ii/ii)- for Whumptober: i. hurts like hell - 1/1; Xiao Lanhua’s tired yet ever-beating heart is under siege. (1.1k) (t) ii. i loved and i loved and i lost you - 1/1; The catalyst for Dongfang Qingcang entering his emotional support dreamworld. (1.4k) (t)

euphoria (2019)

— lexi x fezco

i’ve got a war in my mind - 1/1; Someone spikes Lexi’s drink at a party, and Fez does what he does best. (4.6k) (m)

as it was - 1/1; Fez gets a visit. (5.3k) (m)

if he’s as bad as they say, then i guess i’m cursed - 1/1; Lexi somehow finds herself as Fezco’s new tutor for English class. (3.1k) (t)

call of duty

modern warfare

— krueger x f!reader

nsfw alphabet - 1/1; You're Krueger's lover. (4.1k) (e) [tumblr]

wrath of the lamb - 1/1; Your first time hunting with Dr. Krueger; Hannibal AU - for Haunted Hoedown (6.9k) (e) [tumblr]

modern warfare 2

— ghost x f!reader

that human, that demon - 2/27; You join Task Force 141 on a campaign of the Middle East. (21.2k) (e) [1] [2] [3]

sanctuary moon - 1/1; The SecUnit assigned to your mission seems standard; that is, until it hacks its government module; Murderbot AU. (?k) (m)

— gaz x f!reader

'til my pulse loses time - 3/5; Four times you save Gaz, and the one time he returns the favor - for Whumptober (4.4k) (m) [1] [2] [3] [4]

⭆ turning the tides (°/iii) - for gazfest: • the injury of finally knowing you - 1/1; wip (m) • exuvium - 1/1; wip (t) • bid blood to run - 1/1; wip (m)

ghosts

— keegan x f!reader

unearth without a name - 4/5; Four times you hallucinate Keegan, and the one time he’s real - for Whumptober (8.6k) (m) [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

nec spe, nec metu - 1/1; tbd. (?k) (m) - wip draft @ 2.2k words

across the spider-verse

— miguel o’hara x f!reader

⭆ cursed from the start (ii/vii): i. beggin’ for thread - 1/1; Your first run-in with the not-so-friendly neighborhood Spider-Man as the Black Cat of Earth-928. (3.9k) (m) [tumblr] ii. for you my love i kill - 1/1; Miguel visits the hospital to tie up some loose ends then makes sure you got home safe. (6.5k) (m) [tumblr]

knock knock - 1/1; When an unstoppable force meets a movable object - for Whumptober (1.4k) (t) [tumblr]

resident evil

— ada wong x leon kennedy

haunt me, then - 1/1; He sees her in everyone, in everything, everywhere; Post-RE2R - for Whumptober (2k) (t) [x]

⭆ l'amour l'emporte (°/ii): i. la douleur exquise - 1/2; Leon realizes just how much Ada has changed; Post-RE4R - for Whumptober (?k) (m) ii. à la mort - 1/1; Two weary souls walk into a bar - for Whumptober (?k) (t)

shrike & thorn - 1/1; Star-crossed paths collide for what may be the last time; Post-RE6 - for Whumptober (t)

jujutsu kaisen

— gojo satoru x iori utahime

when it rains (it pours) - 1/1; Her job is to kill; tonight, his is to save; Spy X Family AU - for Whumptober (9.2k) (m) [x]

kaleidoscope - 1/1; Gojo and Utahime prepare for the fight against Sukuna in ways beyond the obvious. (?k) (t)

the nightmare pact - 1/5; Four times Gojo wards off Utahime’s nightmares, and the one time she helps him get some sleep of his own. (?k) (t) - wip draft @ 2.7k words

a blood-red setting sun - 1/3; A quest to survive thirty-one nights turns into something much more. (?k) (m) - wip draft @ 1k words

— itadori yuji x fushiguro megumi

illusion - 1/1; Megumi grows accustomed to the tricks his mind likes to play, but it never gets any easier. (3.1k) (t) [x]

— gojo satoru x geto suguru

do not go gentle into that good night - 1/1; Gojo uses art as a medium for eternalizing his increasingly-impermanent memories. (?k) (t)

misc

star wars

— thrawn x eli vanto

collateral - 1/1; Political enemies use a certain Lt Cdr. as bait and get more than they bargained for; Post-Thrawn: Treason - for Whumptober (2.5k) (t) [x]

[chihomichannel]

of candy wrappers and unprecedented endings

| pairing: choso x reader | genre: angst & fluff | warnings: mention of death; sad things blended with happy things | word count: 2330 words | a/n: hi! this is clem! this is the 3rd and final part of “bittersweet lollipops” so read the first two parts before this but it can also be read as is. this wasn’t my first plan for the 3rd part and i had actually written a lot when i realized that i don’t want it to be the 3rd part lol. so i rewritten this today and here it is! hope you guys like it!

◄ previous |

icon used

Time has always been the limit for humans. We were born and raised, thrown into the world and built our lives only for everything you’ve worked hard for to be left behind once death came right by your door. And for sorcerers like you, death has always been just a step behind, ready to take you once it was your time. But in your case, you miraculously lived long enough to know you would die with no regrets.

Feeling the hand clung onto yours, your eyes woke from its slumber. Your eyes were met with the bright sunshine that illuminated the whole room, the white of the ceiling shining brighter than ever. Your head turned to your side to see Choso sitting asleep by your bed, his hand on top of yours while the other held your family scrapbook. The page was open, showing a picture of your family at its early stages. It was you and Choso both holding onto your newborn with your friends by your sides. You remembered it was your first born’s first birthday and you smiled at the vivid memory that crossed your mind.

You thought back to that day when everyone was present, celebrating and just pure happiness. You remembered Megumi tackling Yuuji when he was about to feed your baby he didn’t know your daughter could not eat. You remembered Panda with your baby lying on its stomach and Inumaki shoving toys to your daughter to amuse it. You remember Gojo arriving late with a bag full of sweets to which Choso took eagerly. You remembered Nobara continuously flaunting her outfit. You remembered Maki and Nanami just being there. And you remembered looking at everyone, just taking in that moment and storing it inside your treasured memories. You remembered the atmosphere, the calm and the chaos in the house. The hot rays of the sun shielded by the window pane. You remembered that moment and longed to return to that day.

Blinking, you were snapped back to reality. You took note that the atmosphere was the same as that day. You smiled, eyes tired even though you only just woke up. You glanced at Choso’s hands that clung onto yours, it was tight but he held you as if you were fragile glass. You knew he’s worried and so you moved your hand and intertwined it with his. Choso stirred awake, licking his dried lips as he leaned up from his position “Hey” he said, his voice cracking slightly. He looked tired, the look in his eyes told you they’ve lived for so long. They’ve seen so much yet his face was still the same. His body looked the same, everything looked the same. His youthful face hid the hundreds of years he’s lived.

He smiled- oh his smile. His smile is something you never got over. When you first knew Choso, you would have never guessed that he could be so expressive. With his indifferent mien, even at the start of your relationship, you would always be so surprised to see another expression on his face. You loved it especially when he has this confused, wondering face. You always found it so cute. You found everything he does cute. It scared you just how much you’re in love him. But you could never imagine nor wish for a better life because the life you have with Choso by your side is a life you would never bargain anything for. You are content and you are in love. You didn’t even realize it but Choso became your life. The little world and family you’ve built with him, it’s yours and his. No life was better than this.

“Morning” Choso scooted his seat closer to your bed, he had his elbows on the soft mattress, taking your hand to his lips. “It’s afternoon, silly” You weakly told him, softly chuckling. You felt him smile in your hands and you gazed at him adoringly “I see you’ve been looking at the scrapbook again”

“Yeah” Choso pulled away from your hands and flipped the scrapbook to the next page “I guess I fell asleep while doing so” He mused. He stopped and you looked at the page to see a picture of you and him decades ago. It was a selfie when you two eloped that one fateful night. The two of you never planned for a wedding nor did you think you would ever get married. It was never a thought in your mind but during that night, Choso looked so beautiful. Even with his mouthful of tacos you grabbed on the way to Panda’s birthday, something about the night with the streetlights and the swarm of people highlighted Choso in your eyes. And at the bus stop, just as you were about to get on it, you pulled Choso into a halt and waited until the crowd got on the bus before you spoke “Will you marry me?”

You both skipped on Panda’s birthday and got married. It was a decisive decision but no doubt the best you’ve ever made. A year later after that, your daughter was born and you swore, Choso had never glowed brighter. Your heart felt soft whenever you see your daughter and husband bonding. And the sight of your daughter cuddled up against Choso made you feel so thankful that these beautiful people are part of your life. Because of them, life was so much brighter.

You and Choso bore four more children after that. To say that life is noisy is an understandment but the noise made you happy anyway (albeit stressed). You stopped at baby number 5, with your eldest being 15 at the time. As expected, your daughter became a sorcerer, proving to be much stronger than either of you with a cursed technique she invented on her own. Your second didn’t follow onto the jujutsu society and made a life of his own outside the dangers of your reality. Your third inherited Choso’s blood manipulation and was almost bought by the Kamo clan but of course, you and Choso shielded your child away from the mess that is clan families. Your fourth also became a jujutsu sorcerer and your youngest inherited your cursed technique. All in all, your children now had lives of their own with all of them being fully fledged adults.

With a sigh, you yawned, reaching out for the scrapbook and putting it on your lap. You flipped to the next page and a grin etched on your face. You giggled, motioning to Choso the scrapbook. It was you and Choso all those years ago before you were married. It was that day out when Choso kissed you on the ferris wheel. It was when you two were sitting on the sea wall when he secretly snapped a picture of you looking the other way. A glint flashed through Choso’s eyes, his lips mirroring your grin. Choso traced the design by the photo, it was a bunch of lollipop wrappers you two had been eating when you were designing this specific page. He remembered you chastising him for almost emptying the packet of lollipops. Chuckling, he turned to look at you to see you looking at him so lovingly “I love you” you told him and Choso felt his chest tighten. It was a wonder how you still had so much effect on him when you had literally spend your lifetime together “And I love you”

Choso examined the wrinkles in your eyes when you smiled. Your once smooth skin was now wrinkled out of old age. Your once vibrant hair is now a dull white. Both your eyes now have a cataract that clouded your sight. And your lips remain chapped no matter how many times you apply a lip balm. But even with all these things you’ve obtained as you aged, you still looked so darn beautiful. It was no secret that his never changing youth made you insecure. You wished he could age up with you but realized that was selfish and so you brushed off these thoughts. What you didn’t know is that Choso also wished the same. He wished he could grow old with you and get wrinkly together.

It was cruel how he couldn’t age with you. If you thought about it, he’s actually more than a century older than you yet here you are, minutes away from letting go. Choso clutched your hands, his eyes shaking as you breathed frailly. He breathed out your name, tears brimming in his eyes. He let out a whimper when you called his name, hiding in the cold of your hands “Choso” You repeated, feeling a pang on your chest. You leaned forward to embrace him, trapping him in your arms resulting in Choso to lean on your shoulder, letting out a quiet cry.

You cooed, kissing his temple before hiding your face in his hair, his locks drying the tears that fell on your cheeks. “Don’t go” He cried, his voice muffled “Not you too” His voice cracked causing your arms to tighten around him “Choso, Choso” With that, Choso looked you in the eyes.

“Please never be alone-” You paused, composing yourself. Choso held your cheeks as you continued “-find someone-” “I could never love someone else other than you” Choso said committedly. You gave him a look before you continued “-please, please don’t blame yourself” You held his cheeks, giving him a soft smile as you plead “And please don’t be sad”

You broke, Choso catching your tears with his mouth. Planting kisses on your face, Choso savored you in. The both of you could feel it. It was the worst feeling ever. But thinking back to your life, it was never short of happiness. Choso was the pill that gave you the energy to live your fullest. He was the reason you found a purpose in life and became a mother of five. He was the reason you ever felt true happiness. And thinking back to all those memories, you can confidently say that you left this world with no regrets.

 ๋࣭     ࣪ ˖        ⋆ ࣪.     ˖ ࣪⭑      ˖ ࣪ ٬     ุ๋ ⸱ ๋࣭     ࣪ ˖        ⋆ ࣪.     ˖ ࣪⭑      ˖ ࣪  ๋࣭

A snowflake fell on Choso’s nose causing it to twitch at the contact. It was cold and Choso stood in the midst of the crowd, unmoving as stone. He sighed, a cloud forming in front of his mouth. Yuuji had called him to meet him in the plaza in front of the huge clock that stood tall in the middle of the park. Choso scanned his surroundings and took note of the large crowd that flocked together at night. It was the night before Christmas eve and Choso was alone. His children all had their own families to tend to. The original plan was to celebrate at his home but plans tend to change and Choso ended up alone. If not for Yuuji, he would probably be asleep by now.

“Choso!” Hearing someone call out his name, Choso turned to see his brother and his friend, Megumi, heading his way. Yuuji’s pink hair is now white, his smile now has wrinkles on them. It was the same with Megumi and Choso remembered he couldn’t age. It made him sigh, wanting nothing but age together with the people he cares about. It bothered him so much, especially with his eldest child looking much older than him. It was unfair, Choso wailed to the gods.

Choso let them pull him wherever, going along with the flow. But even with the boisterous laughs of his brother and the chatter that filled his ears, he felt alone. He was surrounded by people yet he felt so cold. Sighing for the umpteenth time that day, Choso going along wherever his companions went.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Yuuji. He was worried about his brother which is why he called him in the first place. His legs hurt from old age but if it means his brother would feel better, he would go out in the cold to walk with him. Megumi already went home and Yuuji is walking Choso home. He noted the faraway look Choso held. Yuuji felt sad at the sight. He remembered how Choso shined when you were still alive. But the Choso walking beside him now was nothing but the shell left of his body. His eyes held no soul, that is until Choso’s eyes landed on the ferris wheel.

It was the same ferris wheel as back then. Like before, it flickered in different lights, switching its color as it rotated. Choso held a cry, feeling a lump in his throat. You. Oh, you. He is so in love with you still. He saw that yellow pod, though unsure if it was the one, his heart ached at the memory of you. His heart always aches every second of the day. You, he thought of you. He felt the linger of your touch on his skin, your breath as you laughed against him. He felt your kisses and the love you felt for him. The clutch of your fingers as you held onto him. He felt you.

He breathed in the cold air, taking his eyes off the ferris wheel into the night sky. The jet black sky was painted with the white of the snowflakes that fell. One dropped on his cheek and rolled down the same time a tear fell down from his hollow eyes. A breath left his throat, a smoke coming out of his mouth. He will find you, he is determined to find you. No matter how long it takes. No matter what millennia he meets you again. He will be there and you would be in his arms again. He will tell you the stories he’s lived and live another lifetime with you. No matter how many lifetimes, what matters is he’s with you.

Another set of tears run down his cheeks. He misses you but he will live on. He will live on.

He will live on.

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