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mcphersonjohannessen25 · 2 years

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Prada Archives

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#prada terry cloth slides #prada slides

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gallegospham9 · 2 years

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The Ten Most Iconic Dior Handbags And The Way They Grew To Become So Famous

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#dior replica #replica dior saddle bag #fake dior bag #dior sauvage fake #dior saddle bag fake

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barbeemclaughlin3 · 2 years

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The 10 Most Iconic Dior Handbags And How They Grew To Become So Famous

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#dior replica #replica dior saddle bag #fake dior bag #dior sauvage fake #dior saddle bag fake

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pinkandgreenarepurpleandyellow · 3 years

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The once in a blue moon event of me getting new shoes has come and the even rarer event of these shoes possibly being ones that I’ll actually be able to wear may or may not be approaching

#fun fact I have exactly 1 type of shoe I can trust #it's this one grey pair that I buy a new version of each year #and then for 2 weeks im miserable while they break in #and this is a pair of boots I found on an online thrift store that cost 20 bucks so idk why or how they fit #but they might actually not cause me pain #also side note anyone who wants evil and fucked up sandals and is a woman's 7 1/2 us dm me I hate them so much I'll pay for you to take them

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pennypalblorkposts · 3 years

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Hampsterdance hyperfixation?

ok ok i know me being fixated on a song about dancing hampsters is very strange but theres actually a ton of underground lore about hampsterdance thats been obscured for decades due to hampsterdance (the brand/band) tanking in popularity after its one hit wonder single in 2000

[ID: a doodle of a person with short hair, looking very excited, with a thought bubble containing the word "Hampter" over their head. end ID]

1. this is probably more well known thanks to this video and also due to me talking about it with random strangers all the time but hampsterdance had a straight-to-dvd movie called "how the hampster's saved winter" that's a piece of lost media (which isn't a new thing for this franchise) due to barely anybody ordering it off the website. the only reason we know it exists it thanks to an article from 2019 of someone interviewing the guys who own the hampsterdance brand (yes, brand!!) and web archives of the website (and the dead purchase link on it.) as well as screencaps from a now dead flash game (which i have saved thankfully pre flash dying) which includes a ferret which is just making me want to find it even more, even if it's just a shitty christmas movie

2. i'm gonna follow up on the hampsterdance movie kind of by explaining what i mean by brand. it's well known info (and if you dont know this thats ok) that the original website was made by an art student named deidre lacarte in 98 in a competition with her friend and sister to make a site with the most web traffic. well, after the hit single "hampsterdance", in around 2002ish? the trademark to it was bought by abatis inc. who still currently holds the trademark. and also they're the ones behind this fucking 3d redesign of the main 4 (i blame alvin for this one personally :/)

[ID: a set of two images. the first image contains a 2D drawing of a yellow hamster with a bowtie, a brown hamster with a cowboy hat, a grey hamster and an orange hamster. the second image contains a 3D rendered version of the four hamsters with names beside them, as well as instruments. a brown hamster with a cowboy hat named Dixie, holding a guitar, an orange hamster with goggles named Fuzzy with a pair of drums, a yellow hamster with a bowtie named Hampton with a guitar, and a grey hamster with a yin and yang symbol named Hado with an electric keyboard. she also has a flower on her ear. end ID]

like.. i love their current designs now despite how Interesting they look, but what we had already was perfect.

3. there's actually a niche community of hampsterdance fans and there has been for decades! there's an official forum that exists and that's still active (last i checked a few months ago) if you wanna make an account on it good luck getting it approved, it took my account a good year i think :(. so i guess my hampsterdance fixation isnt that strange even if it's mainly focusing on the backstory of this entire franchise vs the actual characters themselves (id probably fixate on the characters if i actually got my hands on that damn movie)

4. hampsterdance has actually made songs outside of its one hit wonder. it has a few albums also!! you can find some of the songs on youtube as well as some of the other music videos ;)

5. official merchandising of the hampsters exists, and yes, im qualifying that as lost media. this includes shirts, rubber bands, and lollipops strangely enough. also plushies of the main cast (unfortunately in the reboot style). also a mug i regret not buying when i saw it for 20 bucks on ebay </3

[ID: an image of four pairs of red lollipops, each with the face of the hampsterdance cast on them. in order: an orange hamster with goggles and some necklaces, a yellow hamster with a bowtie, a grey hamster with flowers beside her ear, and a brown hamster with a cowboy hat on her head. end ID]

6. hampton (the main hampster, the guy with the bowtie, the man who started it all) was named after deidre's hamster who had the same name. he was featured a few times on the website after it went through a few updates (aka going from literal gif hell to an actual website with things to do on it).

thank you mr hampton for inspiring millions of people by existing. and also promoting hamster care for two decades. youve done a lot for us (actual image of him below)

[ID: a small, low quality image of a real life hamster in a cage. the cage has a pink bottom. the hamster is orange with a white belly. end ID]

7. i bet you're curious why hampsterdance is spelled with a p. well, according to hampton hampster (fictional), he named himself that because unlike hamsters (without a p), he was no ordinary hamster. in actuality this was probably a misspelling of hamster that just ended up sticking, but i do think that little in universe explanation is very cute.

i could go on but this post is long enough as is. i highly recommend going on the wayback machine through all the hampsterdance urls (hampsterdance.com, hampsterdance2.com) if you're really curious about how hampsterdance (the website) has changed so much. or you could ask me 😏😏😏

#sorry if im a bit all over the place so is my interest in this damn thing #i fell down a rabbit hole in 2019 and i havent managed to find my way out sinc #e #hampsterdance #hampster dance #long post #im not good with image transcriptions but ill try and add some onto this in an edit #penny posts #ok to rb/interact #hamsters #food #sorry forgot to tag that #edit: added image descriptions rb this version if u can

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a-storm-of-roses · 2 years

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October Fics Day 30: Trick or Treat

Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard

Rating: G

Words: 1202

Summary: Halloween in Atlantis, in the not so distant future. Lions and Tigers and Wraith and Johnny Cash.

A/N: Written to soothe my pain at buying a ton of candy (including full sized bars!) and receiving not one trick or treater during my building's trick or treat session.

Read on AO3 or below!

The bell chimed, and John rose with a stiff groan.

“Oh for god’s sake, let me,” Rodney fussed, picking up the bowl and heading to the door, even as John shuffled behind him.

“Doc said I needed to exercise, get used to moving again.” John protested, even as Rodney palmed the door open.

“Yes, but not by getting up and down every three minutes,” Rodney hissed, as a chorus of “Trick or Treat” rang out.

“Hey guys,” Lorne waved, tiger-painted face stretching into a toothy grin. Next to him, Parrish, face intricately painted to look like a lion, gave a small wave. And between the two, were a pair of bouncing, extremely green characters, dressed entirely in black.

“Now,” John leaned against the door, going for casual, maybe rakish, and looking closer to pained. “What do we have here?”

“I’m a wraith!” One of the small figures, face painted in green and grey, a mop of knit white hair springing from their head, growled.

“Very scary,” Rodney intoned drily, but the kids didn’t seem to notice. “And I suppose you’re also a wraith?” Rodney asked the taller figure. She was dressed similarly to the first, and was carrying a painted piece of cardboard that looked like it was intended to be one of their tablets. Or an iPad.

“I’m Todd!” she exclaimed, and John choked back a laugh, even as Lorne gave a shrug, as if to say, kids, what can you do.

“Extremely scary. Go ahead, help yourselves.” John nudged Rodney in the side, prompting him to hold out the bowl of full-sized candy bars, the children diving in greedily, as Parrish bit back a smile.

“One each!” he chastised. “And what do we say?”

“Thanks!” the mini-wraith chorused, even as they turned to run down the hall.

“I told you Sheppard and McKay always have the best candy,” they could hear the younger boy whisper loudly.

“Happy Halloween!” Lorne called, as he chased after the kids.

The door slid shut, and Rodney turned to John with a sigh. “They get weirder and weirder every year. I can’t believe people still decide to raise their kids here.”

“I wonder what Todd would make of his mini-me. Maybe we should’ve gotten a photo for the next time he comes crawling out of the woodwork.”

They had only settled back into the couch for a few minutes, when the door chimed again.

Rodney pulled John up, and grabbed the bowl from the table.

This time it was one of the new sergeants - Ramirez, John thought - with two small girls hiding behind him.

“Come on, girls, show your costumes to Dr. McKay and General Sheppard.” The taller girl shuffled forward, and muttered something that might have been ‘Trick or Treat,’ to the floor.

John crouched down, ignoring the twinge in his hips and Rodney’s protests. “And who might you be? Let me guess… Cleopatra? And your sister is… a snake, maybe? Or a worm?” Behind him Rodney muffled a snort, as a cough.

The older girl was dressed in a white sheet wrapped around her like robes, with a gold headband and heavy eyeliner. Her younger sister was dressed as some sort of beige snake, or maybe lizard, John thought, heavy canvas tail trailing behind her.

“I’m a sym-bote!” the snake declared. “And my sister is a goa’uld!”

Sgt. Ramirez chuckled. “I tried to suggest princesses, or even dinosaurs, but this was what they wanted.”

As the night wore on they were visited by two versions of SG-1, and no fewer than 4 iterations of AR-1, although the third set had insisted that they were a replicator team, leaving John shuddering and Rodney wide-eyed with alarm. They took photos of a particularly serious mini-Teal’c, and a boy in fishing gear who insisted he was General O’Neill. There were wraith and goa’uld, at least one unas, and a very poor attempt at an asgard.

They also saw a few more classic costumes, Jennifer, her husband, and the twins dressed as Wizard of Oz characters, a few witches, ghosts, superheroes, and princesses. John laughed for a solid minute straight after they closed the door on one of the new geologists, and her daughter who was dressed as Maverick from Top Gun.

It was late in the evening, and the constant stream of kids had finally slowed. John sprawled out on the couch, his head resting in Rodney’s lap, as they started Halloween III. One of Rodney’s hands carded through his hair, as the other picked its way through the rest of the candy bowl.

“Hey, the night isn’t over yet. Save some for the stragglers.”

“Please, it’s well past kids’ bedtimes. Unless Zelenka decides to take Ronon drunk trick or treating again this year, I think we’re done.”

As if on cue, the doorbell chimed again. Grumbling, Rodney extricated himself from under John and took the bowl to the door. John rose at Rodney’s first annoyed huff, and the grouchy “Aren’t you a bit old to be trick or treating?”

“Aw come on Uncle Rodney. I thought you were never too old, as long as you have a costume? Besides, we never had Halloween, not until I was ten. I have a lot of time to make up.”

John grinned at that sly, measured tone. God, he sounded just like his mother, John thought, if his mother was suddenly a teenage boy.

“Hey, Uncle John!” Torren waved from the doorframe, hefting up a large bag that was filled to the brim with candy. Atlantis’s first child, it was clear Torren was still the darling of the exhibition, even as he had transitioned from pudgy childhood to his gangly teenage years.

“And what exactly are you supposed to be?” John asked. “You know the deal - no costume, no candy.”

While his friends all had some sort of obvious, if lazy, costumes, Torren looked the same as he did most days, dressed in dark BDUs and a black shirt. He’d added on one of the old expedition leather jackets, and a pair of sunglasses perched on the top of his head. These days, Torren seemed to prefer the clothing of Earth expedition members, over the Athosian leather and wool Teyla and Kanaan wore. Teenage rebellion took all forms, John supposed.

“Oh please tell me you’re not-” Rodney groaned.

“I’m Johnny Cash!” Torren interrupted! “Mom wouldn’t let me take my guitar. She said I’d damage it.”

“Suck up,” Rodney muttered, even as John grinned. He handed over the bowl of candy, turned a blind eye when the teens each helped themselves to two.

“You know, eventually you’ll be too old to trick or treat.”

Torren shrugged. “That’s alright. Madison said once you get too old to trick or treat you go to parties. Or throw toilet paper on things.”

“She said what?” Rodney’s voice rose an octave, even as John waved Torren and his laughing friends away.

“Ignore your uncle, Torren, you’re never too old to trick or treat!”

Rodney slumped back down on the couch. “Parties?” he asked, voice sounding weak and defeated.

“Don’t worry, dear,” John patted his hand, pressed a kiss to his cheek. “We’ll just be sure to get the jumbo candy bars next year.”

#Kids in Atlantis have weird costume ideas #Next year Torren totally TPs Rodney's lab #He doesn't get grounded #Kanaan just makes him clean up and meditate on what he has done wrong #Teyla runs him through drills #And John is secretly the one who gave him all the toilet paper #mcshep #stargate atlantis #future fic

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argumentl · 3 years

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The Freedom of Expression Ep 48 - Nike CM inundated with criticism.

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru, with this week's episode of The Freedom of Expression. Joe san, Tasai san, welcome. Ok, lets get started, Joe, if you please.

J: Yes, uh, last week's episode...the first episode of the year, we were talking about poo, haha. It shows what a wide scope this show has. This week I have some more serious news. This was quite a talking point back in December, I think many people will already be aware of it. Its the news about the Nike commercial which recieved an avalanche of complaints. The promotional video made by Nike Japan, 'Keep moving - yourself - the furure. The Future isn't Waiting' has taken a lot of criticism. The view count on youtube had reached a million views as of last December, but at the same has recieved a lot of negative comments thought to be from Japanese users. The majority of these seem to be from online right-wingers saying things like, 'Racist discrimination is extremely rare in Japan (This cm is outrageous)', 'There is no discrimination against Koreans in Japan, even if there was there would be a reason for it', 'Nike is anti-Japan, Im not buying from there any more', 'Are Nike aware that the Association of Korean residents in Japan (Chongryon) were involved in the abuductions of Japanese people?' etc. Incidentally, there are 3 young people who appear in the commercial mainly. One of them appears to be a Korean resident of Japan. She is shown walking the streets looking down, while wearing Chima jeogori, and also being bullied at school, likely due to her ethnicity. The online anti-Korean, right wing Japanese sphere are thought to dislike this depiction. To summarise, their reaction to this CM has been to say it shows contempt for Japan, by suggesting that Japan is following the same kind of trend as the West in terms of discrimination, even though Japan hardley has any discrimination compared to the West (they think)....

So I checked out this cm as soon as it became news, and the first thing I thought is that these kinds of comments have kinda missed the point. The second thing I thought was in regards to the claim that anti-Korean discrimination is extremely rare in Japan. I personally have quite a few Korean-Japanese friends, and they have said that since they were small, throughout school, they have faced discrimination. Well, discrimination isn't a uniquely Japanese thing, many countries also have discrimination. Im not saying we are the only ones who have it, but I am at least very aware that, even in Japan, discrimination does exist. Well, I mean, how should we interpret this CM?

T: As for the meaning, I get that it shows there is discrimination, but after that it must somehow be related to sports, being Nike?

J: Yeh, so when you see these young people in the CM suffering discrimination, they are each doing different sports. Its like, if you excell at your sport, you can change your own future, kinda. A message like, even though there is discrimination, if you find your calling, you can change the world with it.

T: I see.

J: Kaoru, what do you think?

K: Well, even with that, its definitely not wrong. *1

J: Yeah, as for Nike, they must have made it this way deliberately. They made a Korean resident of Japan the protagonist on purpose, so they are trying to put out the message of 'lets stop this kind of discrimination'. And with sports, surely...well, its not limited to sports, if there is anything that someone really excells at, they can overcome discrimination with that, and create something new. I think thats the message of this CM. But..

K: Its a bit difficult to get that message across.

J: Well, yeah...

K: To get that across as the point.

T: Yeah.

J: Hmm, yeh. Another thing I was unsure about was the response from the mass media. When this kind of news appears, they use the phrase 'the cm is under fire/recieved a backlash'. But as far as I could see, I had a look at the comments, they seemed a lot more like false accusations, or like harassment. So if you use that to say the CM is under fire, it makes it seem like the fault lies with the CM. All I could see was harassment from the right-wing. And its probably not a lot of people writing this stuff. Its more likely to be a few people from one group doing it. So I thought it was a bit wrong of the media to present the issue as if the CM is under fire, as this makes it seem like the problem it the CM itself. It seemed to me like just a lot of false accusation.

K: Hm, well, they made this CM, knowing it would be an easy target for accusations. So, its kinda hard to see what their aim was with this.

J: Yeah, I see.

T: For example, if they had made the protagonist a really famous sports star, it might have been easier to get the point across..with their story. But because the CM features these 3 kinda abstract characters, the meaning gets a bit vague.

K: Yeah, yeah, I agree. Im not entirely sure what they are trying to say with this.

J: I see, yeh. You think there is room for criticism in that sense?

K: Im not sure about criticism, but for the CM itself, I wasn't sure what they were saying, although Im sure there are people who understand the meaning of it.

J: So as of now, the CM has not been shut down, so if anyone wants to watch it, they still can if they are interested. If any of the viewers have any thoughts on it, please leave a comment on this video.

T: Yeah, they are definitely not showing off their shoe performance with this CM. Though their specific goal isn't obvious, I reckon this is fine. If it starts debate, then its good.

K: Well, yeah, if it creates the opportunity for debate, then its good.

Kami: Um, there is a lot to debate about this cm, but Nike shoes are cool, right?

J: Ah, he joined us.

Kami: Do you guys all have Nike shoes?

T: Yeah, I do.

K: I do.

J: Ahh, I havn't bought any Nike shoes recently.

T: I've always worn Nike. The basketball one's, Jordans.

K: Oh, I have those too.

J: Are they like the low-tech ones?

K: What do you mean by low-tech?

J: Like, not the Air Max type.

T: Well, yeah, they don't have air in them.

J: Right.

Kami: No, the Air Max ones are good.

J: He likes Air Max, haha.

Kami: The Air Max ones are easy to get on, and you don't get tired. Is it different for you guys?

K: No, well, they're ok yeh. Haha. I can't deny that.

J: Right, yeh. Kami, you are a fan of the Air Max ones?

Kami: Yeah.

T: People used to go hunting for Air Maxes, do you remember?

J: Oh, yeah, they did.

T:...when they were really popular, in the 90s. Kami probably bought some of them then.

Kami: I did, I did.

J: You hunted for them?

Kami: No, I didn't hunt for them.

J: Imagine Kami going hunting for Air Maxes.

Kami: I didn't hunt for them. I just bought them normally.

J: Ah, ok. Haha, if you did you wouldn't be a god at all.

Kami: You can only get them through lottery these days, right?

K: Yeah.

J: Oh, really?

K: Yeah, the popular ones. Airmax, and other types like Jordans.

J: Oh, right.

Kami: I don't buy those types though.

J: Oh, you don't buy those?

Kami: No.

J: Ahh, you just buy the normal ones, without lining up or doing a lottery and stuff?

Kami: Yes.

T: There are some that cost a huge amount of money. Collaboration items and stuff.

J: Ehh.

Kami: I shop in Shibuya ABC Mart.

K: There was a collaboration with Dior.

J: Nike collaborated with Dior??

K: Yeah, they are about ¥1million yen.

J: Ehhh??

T: Yeah, they are.

J: Ehh? Its not even leather.

Kami: Shibuya ABC store is good!

J: Hahaha

K: Ahh, yeh, its good.

J: Of course, right? Kami, do you shop there?

Kami: Yeah, cause they have a lot in there.

K: Haha, yeah...ABC does.

J: It does, yeh.

Kami: You can buy whenever you like.

J: Well, yes, thats true. I havn't bought any sneakers recently though.

K: You don't have that kind of image.

J: Thats right, I don't. I usually buy leather shoes.

K: Dr Martens?

J: Yeah, Dr Martens. I worked with Dr Martens last year. Would love to again this year!

K: Should we all go out and buy some? haha

J: To ABC Mart? haha

Kami: I also buy them on Amazon.

J: Eh?!

K: I bought some on Amazon just earlier

J: Oh, you buy them on Amazon?

T: Aren't there a lot of rip offs on Amazon?

J: Hm, are there?

T: I had a look on there before to see if there were any Air Maxes, and there were complete rip off versions going for as cheap as ¥2000. When its normally ¥12000, thats cheap. When you look, its not actually Nike, but 'Ni-kay' or something.

J: There are rip offs of Dr Martens like that too. They look exactly the same but super cheap. I saw two pairs going for ¥5000. They were so cheap, I bought them, and when they arrived they were no good at all. They looked the same as the real thing, but they leather was artificial..I thought, 'Aghh!'.

K: These days even brands are making things like copycat products, aren't they?

J: Yeah, yeah. Like putting out fake versions as the real product. Thats also interesting, its like a totally different approach. It has an effective punch, 'Fake!'.

K: Well, anyway, is that about it?

J: Yep.

K: Thank you for watching this week too. Please subscribe.

*1 Not entirely sure I've got that right.

#dir en grey #the freedom of expression #tfoe #kaoru #薫 #nike

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adventuresofclever · 3 years

Text

CleverMax: SDCC 2021 Masquerade Entry

Comic-Con@Home Masquerade Entry: Adventures of Clever Costume Title: CleverMax - Mr. Clever as a Borderlands boss Costume Description: Recreation of Mr. Clever from the Doctor Who episode Nightmare in Silver, written by Neil Gaiman, done in the style of the video game, Borderlands. Bio: They/He pronouns

Greetings all!

I realized that I never wrote about how I made my CleverMax mashup cosplay, so when SDCC posted about their At Home masquerade, I figured this was the perfect time to do so! Most of you know that I cosplay exclusively as Mr. Clever from Doctor Who, with the random mash up thrown in here and there. I’ve always wanted to be a Borderlands cosplayer, and the following is how I managed to combine the two together.

As always, enjoy the blog and if there are any questions, please feel free to contact me.

Let’s step into the TARDIS and jump back to October 20, 2009, when the first Borderlands game was released. It was my first foray into FPS (First person shooters) and I was hooked from day one. In 2012 they released Borderlands 2 which is, in my not so humble opinion, the best video game ever created. We got some of the most iconic charcters and storylines in that game. Including the best DLC ever, Bunkers and Badasses. And my second favorite villain of all time – Handsome Jack.

Jack’s sass, sarcasm and charm fits well with Mr. Clever’s personality. And in the pre sequel you get to play a version of him called the Dopplegnager. I mean, this pretty much wrote itself.

Handsome Jack from Borderlands 2 and Mr. Clever from Doctor Who

Borderlands cosplayers have aIways left me in a state of awe and admiration. The style of the game is so unique and seeing it recreated in person is nothing short of incredible. I’ve always wanted to figure out a way to be a Borderlands cosplayer. For the past eight years I have only ever cosplayed as Mr. Clever from Doctor Who. In the summer of 2019 I decided that was the perfect time to try to make this happen before NYCC.

When I initially decided to do this, it was going to be more of a mash up between Handsome Jack and Mr. Clever. I had planned on wearing Jack’s basic outfit, but in Clever’s colors with the a few add ons. Namely the bow tie and the cybernetics.

After much research and drafting, I decided against that. I ended up just turning Mr. Clever into a Borderlands boss. Same basic outfit as Mr. Clever/11th Doctor, but cel shaded and with weapons, cause Borderlands.

I made the accessories, chess set, and obviously the working cyberplanner piece itself for my Nightmare in Silver version of Clever, but I have never tackled anything this ambitious. An entire costume from scratch? Not something I thought I could do. Not knowing how to sew and being visually impaired were both challenges that I had to work around.

I started with looking around my house for various items that I thought I could use. I figured if I messed up, might as well mess up on something I hadn’t spent money on yet! I was going to toss a pair of my old paddock boots as they had some rips in the leather. Ripped leather? How very Pandora. They were the first thing I tackled.

Old paddock boots that I refurbished for the cosplay

This was my first time using leather paint and I have to say I am very pleased with the Angelus brand of leather paint. I have worn these in the rain and through puddles, and they have held up 100%.

After the boots were done, I started on the vest. I had an old black vest lying around the house that was sort of the shape and size I wanted. I don’t have a dress form, so I put it on myself, inside out, and used safety pins to make it the size I needed, then hand sewed around the safety pins. Not ideal, but it works.

I had a spare pair of black jeans, button down light blue shirt and a plain bow tie that I just ended up cel shading.

The only item that I really couldn’t figure out was the purple frock coat. Try as I might, I couldn’t find one to modify. So the coat was actually made by my friend Heather Long. I did alter the length after NYCC.

With the clothes themselves all set, for the most part anyay, it was time to paint. This was my first time trying to recreate the art style of Borderlands, often referred to as cel shading. I have a few “art of Borderlands” style books that I poured over before I sat down to attempt this.

Other than the accessories and anything leather, I used the same materials and techniques for each article of clothing. Instead of describing each seprate piece, I’ll just explain what I did to achieve the overall look.

When you look at a Borderlands character on screen, it can be a bit overwhelming. So many colors, and so many nuances of each color. I did my best to visually sift through all that, and try to establish what I thought was the base color.

Once the base color was determined, I just added blotches, blobs, shading, low lights, highlights and other variations of the base color itself throughout each piece. I recommend keeping your fabric wrinkled and using those wrinkle as guidlenes for where the lines and shading would fall naturally.

Once all of that dried, I then went over different sections of the fabric with white and black lines. To get that crisp, almost comic book looking outline of each piece I used black sharpie, and white fabric pens as well as white fabric paint.

When I sat down to do the coat, I wanted something a little different than just cel shading. During a second playthrough of Tales from the Borderlands, I noticed Rhys and other characters had interesting logos and designs on the back of their jackets. I ended up putting a chessboard pattern on the back as a homage to the chess game between the 11th Doctor and Mr. Clever in the episode.

Great shot of the chess board and my Judd Nelson pose

The materials that I used for all of the clothing items were craft paints that I had around the house. Any brand works, but I prefer Americana paints. I then added an additive that you use to make the paint water proof and used various sized brushes. Dry brushes are also very useful if you have them.

Black sharpies of different sizes and any fabric markers are also very helpful. Heat setting is required to make the paint waterpfoof, so if you mess up before you add sharpies, you can wash the clothes and start over.

A few tips if you decide to undertake cel shading clothing: Until now I hadn’t noticed that there aren’t many thing in Borderlands that are true black. Due to the art style most things that appear black are in reality shades of grey, with a grey base colr. This makes it easier to add the lines, shading, and what not. Looking back, I should have bought GREY clothes. It was a ton of work to make the pants look like they were a mixture of greys. And as a result of so many laers of paint, they are stiff, lost their stretch and feel an entire size smaller! So I would recommend grey fabric as a base for black clothing and buy a size larger.

The pants are so stiff that I think they will stand up on their own

This entire process was way more fun than I thought it would be and I’ve since become addicted to cel shading anything I can. I may or may not have started cel shading my guest room.

After the clothing was finished, I started on some accessories and props. The first being the easiet – a wee little cybermite that I cel shaded. My cosplay of Mr. Clever always has a cybermite on my lapel, so I took one of my older ones and repainted it.

You can’t have a Borderlands character without some sort of weapon, so I painted a nerf gun that looks similar to the one that Clara Oswald holds in the episode.

I have never had to carry a gun for my Mr. Clever cosplay before so weapon checks are sort of new to me. I didn’t want to go through that at NYCC so I came up with a clever, no pun intended, way around it.

I took a photo of each side of the gun. Went to Staples and had them printed on heavy cardstock. Then I cut around the guns, glued them together between a piece of cardboard then added some black electical tape around the edges. Viola. Instant weapons check approved gun that is lightweight, and also acts a fan when it gets hot. It was a huge hit at the con. A few security guards were like “ we have to check your…wait..is that flat?” And they proceeded to play with it. I highly recommend doing this!

Gun and its flat counterpart

I am holding the flat gun in this picture from NYCC

In the actual game, you can equip your characters with mods that give them certain abilities and bonuses. In the Pre-Sequel, you can play as a Dopplganger of Handsome Jack so I searched for some of his mods and found one in purple which seemed perfect. I made the mod with cardboard, covered it in craft foam, modge podge to set, and installed led lights. The first time I wore it I put it on my belt which didn’t work. It kept falling off. I eventually put it on my lapel and wore it like Jack does. Unfortunately, someone glomped on me at a con and broke it, so I recently had to remake it all over again.

No Borderlands costume would be complete without cel shading on yourself. This was a huge challenge for me for a few reasons. One, I’m visually impaired so doing line work like this was challenging. Two, I am highly allergic to so many materials and ingrediants that finding a make up brand that I could wear was a trial and error process that ended up with many break outs and rashes before I found the perfect combination.

I used mostly eye liner pencils and liquid eye liner to achieve the look. The Wet n Wild liquid eye liner lasts forever, and is actually difficult to remove, but that is not a bad thing as it stood up to the heat of a very crowded venue.

As for the cel shading itself, I relied on many refernce photos of various characters in the game. I started with the eyebrows first as that seemed to frame the face nicely and give me a nice mischvieous look. I then just outlined the bones of my face, adding some random lines here and there. It never looks the same way twice, but that’s ok. Playing with different angles, lines, shading etc is half the fun!

The only real challenge were my hands. The make up didn’t last that long on my hands so I had to touch it up throughout the con. I also eventually started to use band aids that I cel sahded to cover up a tattoo on my inner wrist.

Figuring what to do with my hair is an on going process that I still haven’t 100% mastered. I opted to not use a foam wig as I have over heating issues on a cool day let alone trying to wear one if it gets warmer. I have had adverse reactions to craft foam in the past, so I don’t want it touching my skin, and lastly, I think a wig AND a facial prosthetic would be too much for me. So I decided to just cel shade my hair.

This takes forever to do, and I’m still figuring out better techniques every time I wear it.

I have a really great brand of colored gel, called Mofajang which I apply with a baster brush that you would find in the kitchen gadgets aisle. I also use a clean mascara brush to add some finer lines here and there. Set with way more hair spray than I ever used in the 80’s and it becomes fairly waterproof.

I have learned that due to how hard the make up and hair color is to remove, I really need to wear this on the LAST day of a con. I made the mistake of wearing it on day one of Long Island Who one year, and spent hours scrubbing my skin and hair for the next day. Far better to just leave the con with a tad bit of left over cel shading. Which makes it very interesting when you stop at a roadside bathroom on the trip home.

With the entire costume done it was time to work on the actual cyberplanner appliance.

Next time I make a variation of Clever, I will make this FIRST. Making these pieces is the bane of my existence – I love wearing them, hate making them. It’s a long process.

I am allergic to latex, silocone, scuply, most clays, and so many other things that seem to be every cosplayers go-to. When I made my first cyber piece back in late 2013, I spent weeks trying to find a substance that would keep attached to my face all day without causing a rash. Like an alchemist in a fantasy novel, I submerged myself into creating the perfect concoction. It took 22 days to finish the final product.

I admit that I rushed a bit on the Borderlands one. As a result, it doesn’t quite fit as well as my others, and is a bit heavier than I expected. I only added two working lights, instead of the usual four, to hopefully balance the piece out. It lasted through two full days of a con, despite the heat of a crowded venue, but I did end up tweaking it a bit after. Even with the tweaks, it still doesn’t fit as well as I would like. It is too heavy and brings down the entire left side of my face, making it difficult to keep my eye open at times. I really need to sit down and force myself to make a new one.

There are a few more things that I would like to add to this costume eventually. Like a belt of grenades, and maybe another gun. But aside from that, I am incredibly pleased with how this costume turned out. It is by far, my favorite Clever variation that I have done.

I hope this post gives you the inspiration to go off and cel shade something, and possibly even play some Borderlands!

#doctorwho #misterclever #mrclever #nightmareinsilver #cosplay #borderlands cosplay #doctor who cosplay #comic-con #comic-conathome #comic-conathome2021 #comic-conathomemasquerêde #cyberplanner #borderlands

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julyarchives · 3 years

Text

Meowy Christmas

“I said UGLY Christmas sweaters, not cat sweaters, we can NOT wear these.”

→ Pairing: Yanan x Reader

→ Genre: Fluff

→ Words: 1.2K

→ Contains: Ugly sweaters and cute stuff

→ A/n: Here’s another christmas story for you guys! This story was really fun to write because it’s a very soft theme for us. We hope you like it!

“I said UGLY Christmas sweaters, not cat sweaters, we can NOT wear these!” you yelled amused at your boyfriend Yanan.

“Come on! Why not? You love cats!” He replied, laughing with you. “The cat is even wearing a santa hat!”

You just shook your head, still chuckling lightly.

The streets were bright with all the christmas lights, the cold weather didn’t stop you and Yanan from doing your traditional christmas shopping. You two walked hand in hand, enjoying the winter night and the background christmas music of the stores. It was a simple tradition, but you two made sure to always follow through. There was just something romantic about mindless walking around, admiring all the holiday decorations around the city and choosing each other’s gifts.

“If you wear the cat one, I’ll get myself a matching one and we can use it as our couple outfit!” He said it, so excited about the pet themed sweaters, you almost considered obliging.

“I think we can find better ones, babe” you cupped his cheek, looking him deep in the eyes, trying to be convincing.

“Fine.” he pouted, “but you will have to at least get me one that lights up.”

“Like that Rudolph one?” you pointed a couple racks to his side

His eyes lit up and he ran towards it, grabbing it immediately

“That’s perfect!” Yanan put it in front of him, posing it for you "I'm gonna go pay for this

You just laughed again, flashing him a thumbs up. It was your opportunity to sneak away and buy him a surprise gift.

Finishing the purchase, he gladly didn't notice the extra bag on your hands, so you two simply head off to the streets. His hand absent-mindedly found yours, and you smiled at his touch. For a while there, you simply couldn't look away from him. He was looking stunning, the winter lights adorning his sharp features, the colors complementing his skin. He truly looked like a prince, and you felt so lucky to be the one that gets to hold his hand. It was one of those moments that you wish to remember forever.

Then the idea hit you.

"Babe" you called him. "I think there's something I want to do this Christmas"

"What is it?" He looked curious and excited

"It's a surprise" you said "to make it up for the lack of cat sweaters"

He laughed and it was the most precious sound you've ever heard.

"Alright then, what do we do?"

"I think I saw the place somewhere along the way, follow me" you finished, turning around in your heels.

You two back tracked until you finally found the studio you were looking for. Stopping in front of the shop, you looked at him and grinned.

"So…" you announced, pointing inside "what do you think of us sending ugly sweater holiday cards this year?"

He shot you a mischievous look before talking

"I don't know, can we have cat stickers in them?"

"You're such a dork" you laughed, hugging his waist, looking up at him

His arms immediately wrapped you in a tight embrace, chests pressed together, as he looked fondly at you

"Your dork." he said.

You couldn't help but smile, feeling butterflies dance around your stomach.

And then Yanan gently kissed you. The kind of kiss so soft, like you were his fragile porcelain doll. The kind of kiss so full of love that swept you off of your feet.

When you two pulled apart, it took a few seconds for you to find the words to express everything you were feeling at that moment. Truth was that it wasn't that complicated.

"I love you" you blurted.

It wasn't something new between you two, both of you have confessed your feelings multiple times to each other before, but that doesn't mean it wasn't special every time it happened.

"I love you too, y/n" he smiled shyly, pecking your lips quickly

"Shall we go inside?" You said "there is one more surprise."

He nodded, holding your hand again and entering the store.

You quickly explained to the photographer what you wanted, and it didn't take long for him to set up the scenario, since it was a basic holiday card.

"Now," you turned to Yanan, handing him the bag with the gift you bought earlier "I think we should wear this for the picture."

He opened the package and as soon his eyes landed on it, he laughed surprised.

"You bought the cat sweaters?!" He almost yelled.

"You were so passionate about it, I felt guilty for making you give it up" you shrugged, happy to see him amused.

He wasted no time in putting them on, and you followed his lead, dressing up in your matching version of his.

"I told you I would make up for it." You winked.

It was midnight at Christmas, you and Yanan were hosting a party for you and your friends at your house. The cat themed holiday cards were a success and everyone absolutely loved it. You were feeling all types of content for having such an incredible Christmas, filled with love and joy.

When everyone left, Yanan and you say on the couch, basking in the celebration mood quietly

"Y/n." Yanan called you.

"Hm?" You hummed

"I have to confess something," he said, getting your attention. "there is a reason why I wanted you to have that cat sweater."

"What is it?" You said, giving him an encouraging smile

"It actually has to do with your Christmas gift."

"The necklace you have me?" You asked confused

"No, there's actually another gift" he grinned

He made a quick trip to your shared bedroom, coming back with a fairly big box in hand.

"Here" he put it carefully on the floor "you can open it. I'm sure you will love it."

You looked at him smiling, trying to figure out his plan, but you simply couldn't find the answer.

You anxiously tore out the paper, and as soon as you opened the box, tear started rolling down your cheeks

"Oh my God, Yanan!" You almost yelled, the proud smile on his face looking beautiful as ever. "A kitten?!"

You picked up the small grey cat from inside the box, his big yellow eyes staring at you as he meowed the cutest sound ever. It immediately cuddled up against your chest as you hugged it.

"I think he likes his new mommy" Yanan said

"It's a boy?!" You said excitedly, and yanan just nodded. You wanted to hug the kitten harder, but were afraid of hurting the small baby.

"Was it a good gift?" He asked, voice filled with hope

"I absolutely love it!" You held the cat in one arm, and hugged your boyfriend with the free one "I can believe we're cat parents. We have to take a picture!"

"Wait!" Yanan picked up the cat sweaters that he had brought along with the box "I had the same idea"

You two laughed together, quickly getting in the outfit, taking the best family picture with you two side by side, holding the new baby kitten between the two of you.

"Merry Christmas, y/n" Yanan kissed your forehead and you nestled up on his embrace, your new cat secure in your arms.

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raccoonhearteyes · 4 years

Text

Clarke vs. The Hot Customer

Meanwhile in DC, CIA Agent Lexa Woods and NSA Agent Anya Forrest sit across the desk with Homeland Security General Indra Beckman.

Beckman starts, “Last night at 18:00, CIA operative Costia Daniels was killed in action. Before her death, she sent the entire Intersect Project to a civilian, a top-secret mission known only among those with the highest clearance in the CIA. The project consisted of every CIA mission and intel since the CIA’s founding in 1947. All contained in a supercomputer. The goal was for the intel to be downloaded into the human brain. While it has yet to be tested, it would give the agency’s top agents every piece of information necessary to complete their missions, without having to read every file, look through every photo, and analyze every document. This project is now in the inbox of one Clarke Griffin. As I’m sure you can guess, this is not ideal. The recipient’s unsecured g-mail means that every terrorist and their mother can track who it went to. And they will go after them without hesitation in order to get their hands on our intelligence.”

“Why did she send it to a civilian instead of a CIA contact?” Anya asks.

“We don’t know. As far as we can tell, she’s just some random college dropout. She works at a Buy-More. Your job is to find Clarke Griffin, find out what she knows, and download the e-mail yourselves so our nation’s secrets are not floating around in the head of some idiot civilian.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke wakes up on her bedroom floor to the blaring alarm on her nightstand. She’s groggy, and doesn’t quite remember why she apparently passed out on the floor instead of changing into pajamas and climbing into her bed.

Slowly, the memories of last night trickle in. She remembers a hot pocket, going to her room to play video games, and… an e-mail from Costia? That can’t be right. They haven’t spoken in years… But she distinctly remembers getting an e-mail from her, then a bunch of weird pictures, and that’s it.

She goes over to her computer to try and reread the email, but the thing won’t turn on. It seems to be fried from the inside. “Great, so not only did Costia ruin my life, she sent me a computer virus that destroyed my computer?” Clarke wonders.

Clarke’s still a little woozy from the unending strobe light of incomprehensible images her brain was exposed to the night before, so she skips breakfast, and thanks her past self for not even changing out of her work clothes so she can just walk right out the door and head to the Buy-More.

Raven is sitting at the Nerd Herd help desk waiting for her.

“You never logged on to LoL last night,” Raven complains. “Yeah, I got a weird e-mail from Costia and it torpedoed my computer.”

“I’m sorry what? Costia? Costia Daniels? The one that ruined your life and got you stuck working at a Buy-More with me?”

“The one and only.”

“What did she want?”

“I don’t know. It was a weird e-mail. It spazzed through a bunch of images and then fried my hard drive.”

“What a bitch.” “Yup.”

It’s a slow day at the Buy-More so Raven and Clarke spend most of the day chit chatting about nothing, planning their next video game all-nighter, and talking about starting their own electronics company to beat out the Buy-More. It’s an idea they’ve talked about for years, but is nothing more than a pipe dream. Neither of them have the capital to get that thing off the ground. No matter how many engineering degrees Raven collects. Eventually they fall into a game of “Guess what that customer is thinking.”

“I am going to hoard this for when the nuclear apocalypse hits us and toilet paper is scarce,” Raven says about the guy with 100 rolls of toilet paper and nothing else in his cart.

“I need a copy of Die Hard for every TV in my house,” Clarke gruffs about the old many with 8 copies of Die Hard in his basket.

The two are so enthralled in their game that they hardly notice a customer approach the help desk.

In a high-pitched valley girl voice, Clarke says, “I’m getting this video camera so I can finally make a sex tape with my boyfriend!” Raven laughs way harder than Clarke thinks the joke earned, but then the customer clears her throat and Clarke whirls around. The customer raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“Um… I… did you? That wasn’t… Hi, welcome to the Nerd Herd. How can I help you?”

Clarke chokes on her tongue a little when she realizes just how beautiful the customer is. She’s wearing tight fitting jeans, a tank top, and an unbuttoned flannel over her shirt. Clarke’s gaydar lightly pings in the back of her mind. Her hair is a mane of curly brown locks. She has a pair of sunglasses perched on the top of her head, and the greenest eyes Clarke has ever seen. When her gaze flicks back up to make eye contact, there’s something… intense about the way this girl looks at her.

“I’ve been having phone troubles. It doesn’t seem to be receiving calls.”

“Can I have a name for the intake form?”

“Lexa.”

“Well Lexa, I’ll see what I can do.”

Clarke fiddles around with the phone, looking for external damage or immediately obvious reasons for malfunction. When she finds nothing evident, she tells Lexa, “It must be something internal, I’ll take it to the back and see what’s going on. Come back in about an hour, and it should be all set.”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you…” Lexa pauses waiting for a name

“Clarke.”

“Thank you, Clarke. I’ll see you in an hour.”

As Lexa turns to walk away, Clarke stares at her ass and says a quiet, “Bye Lexa.”

“HEY CLARKE! You telling this customer goodbye or are you announcing that you’re bi?” Raven says a little too loudly for it to not be intentional.

Lexa turns to flash a smile at Clarke, and Clarke turns to Raven and says, “Reyes, I will kill you in your sleep.”

An hour spent tinkering in the repair shop, and the phone is back to fully functional. Clarke waits at the help desk for Lexa to return. This time she ensures that she’s not mid-game so she doesn’t embarrass herself a second time in front of this customer. She most certainly notices when Lexa walks into the store. This time, the flannel is tied around her waist and Clarke stares at the tattoo curling around her bicep. Then she stares at the biceps themselves and considers tracing the lines with her tongue. Scolding herself for being just as big of a perv as fellow Nerd Herders Jasper and Monty, she smiles and pointedly does not stray from making eye contact. Lexa is less successful as she sneaks a peek down Clarke’s shirt that may have one or two fewer buttons done up this time around.

“What’s the verdict doc?” Lexa asks, leaning into Clarke’s space at the counter.

“All fixed,” Clarke smiles.

“How do I know it works?”

Clarke grins, “Aha, watch this.”

She digs her own phone out of her pocket and dials a number. She waits a few seconds until the phone in Lexa’s hand starts to vibrate and “NERD HERD HOTTIE” pops up on the screen.

“See? Good as new”

“Thank you, Clarke. I really appreciate it,” Lexa says, and turns to leave the store. Clarke’s bubble of hope pops as she watches her walk away. But then, after a few steps, Lexa picks up her phone, scrolls through a screen and lifts the phone to her ear.

A few feet behind her, Clarke’s phone buzzes on the counter. She answers.

“Do you want to get dinner tonight?” Lexa asks.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They agree to meet at Grounders at 7:00. Lexa arrives 15 minutes early and waits at the entrance. She’s wearing a green button up, tight grey pants, and her hair is done up in a neat braid. She has a stun gun tucked into her jacket, a knife hidden in each boot, and a blade laced within the braid. But this is supposed to look like a first date, not a mission, so she tries to make herself look nervous by shifting her weight from one leg to the other, and gets ready to flirt some information out of her mark.

Clarke steps out of an Uber at 7:06 wearing a light blue sundress that makes her look even more like a ray of sunshine. It’s a stark contrast from the unisex Nerd Herd uniform, and Lexa can’t help but give her a once over. Twice maybe thrice if she’s being completely honest. “I thought you might have changed your mind,” Lexa confesses, looking at her watch.

“Of course not! Just bad LA traffic,” Clarke replies and leads them into the restaurant.

Conversation is easy. They make each other laugh. The waitress comes over three times in 45 minutes before either of them have even glanced at the menu. Lexa assures the waitress that they do, in fact, know how to read, and a few minutes later they actually order their food. Neither can stop themselves from long looks and bashful smiles. Clarke learns that Lexa just moved to town and is still looking for the right fit job. They talk about their childhoods and interests. Eventually, they stumble on the topic of whether or not it’s weird that Lexa asked out her phone repair woman. Clarke immediately reddens at the memory of the first words Lexa heard her say. Clarke apologizes for her having to overhear the game she plays with Raven at the Buy-More.

“Speaking of which, how does a girl as beautiful and smart as you end up working for the Nerd Herd?” Lexa asks incredulously.

“That’s kind of a long story. The spark notes version is that I am one semester shy of a computer science degree at Stanford. My senior year, my former best friend and roommate Costia framed me for cheating and got me kicked out of school. No explanation. Since then I haven’t really had the drive to finish the degree. Or trust anyone. I’ve really just been surviving ever since. No sense in living when everything you loved is gone, right? Sorry, that was probably a little heavy for a first date…”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Lexa assures. The name Costia did not go unnoticed, so Lexa presses on, “What ever happened to that Costia girl?”

“The funny thing is I haven’t really thought about her in a few years, but the last two days it’s been at nagging in my mind. I actually got an e-mail from her yesterday, but all it contained was a virus that fried my computer,” Clarke shrugs.

The waiter interrupts to fill their wine glasses, and Lexa’s opportunity to press more about this e-mail vanishes as Clarke switches the subject completely, and they fall back into easy conversation, longing and somewhat thirsty looks, and grinning at each other.

Lexa pays their check while Clarke runs to the bathroom, and they have decided that 3 hours taking up this restaurant’s table is probably long enough. Yes, it’s a mission, but Lexa is genuinely enjoying talking to this girl. She’s sweet and funny, and looks damn good in that dress.

“Can I drive you home?” Lexa asks.

The drive is a comfortable silence. Lexa’s hand rests on Clarke’s knee and mindlessly draws patterns on her thigh until Clarke intertwines their fingers. The drive ends too quickly as they pull up to the complex where Clarke lives.

Lexa walks Clarke to her door. Clarke’s walk slows to a crawl, trying to prolong her time with Lexa as much as possible. But the trip from the car to the stoop is only so long, so she settles for pretending to struggle to find her keys. God she wants to kiss her. She wants to kiss her so badly she hasn’t listened to a word Lexa has said because she can’t think about anything else. Lexa pauses in front of the door, and shuffles a bit closer to Clarke.

“Goodnight, Clarke”, she says as she leans in. Clarke closes her eyes in anticipation, and then feels Lexa’s lips land just left of the mark. Lexa places a chaste kiss on the corner of Clarke’s mouth, then turns to walk away. She turns back with a wink and a wave as Clarke unlocks her front door, and melts to a puddle once she’s crossed the threshold.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa paces outside the front of the Buy-More while on the phone with the General. “Beckman, she’s just a normal girl. She hasn’t done anything wrong. I don’t even think the e-mail made it to her. She said she hasn’t heard from Costia since college!” “Agent Woods, Daniels was one of our top agents. There must be a reason she sent it to her. Now, go find out if she’s just a really good liar, or if she’s actually as innocent as you seem to think.” She hangs up without a greeting or dismissal.

Lexa tries to shake off the conversation, and walks through the Buy-More doors to go find Clarke, who at the moment is helping someone pick out a blender. Lexa pretends to be interested in a video camera and presses random buttons while waiting for Clarke to be free.

“Looking at cameras for our sex tape?” Clarke asks with a cheeky grin.

Lexa rolls her eyes and replies, “No, I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to say hi. I had fun last night.”

Clarke lights up with a goofy grin and thinks about how she didn’t kiss her last night. Clarke eyes her lips, and catches Lexa doing the same. She does a quick scan of the floor, hoping to confirm that no manager is there to catch her making out with a girl while on the clock. She’s made it almost a full 360 when it happens.

She sees a man standing in the DVD section. He doesn’t look that much different than a normal customer, but once she sees the scar on his neck, images flash before her eyes. The scar. The man’s name, and seven different aliases. A Russian Prison manifest. A rank within Russian Intelligence operations. They flash before her eyes in rapid succession, pulling the information to the forefront of her brain, and making her a little dizzy with the completely unconscious recall of information she doesn’t remember learning in the first place. The images stop and her eyes refocus

“Lexa, this is going to sound crazy, but that man in the DVDs section is a Russian spy and he

is armed to kill. Don’t ask me how I know that, I just do.”

Clarke watches Lexa’s eyes widen in alarm. “Holy shit, you downloaded it.”

“What?”

“The Intersect.” “The what?” “I have to get you out of here.”

Lexa grabs Clarke’s hand and pulls her towards the back of the store.

“Lexa, what is going on.” She doesn’t answer. Instead she goes into the breakroom, punches a series of numbers into the vending machine, and watches the machine slide to the right to reveal a passageway. Lexa pulls Clarke through, ignoring her questions and utter shock at what is going on. Clarke is led down some stairs into a conference room with screens taking up a full wall, a wall full of weapons, and a video conference call happening at the table in the center. An angry looking Asian woman sits at the table talking to the screen with a black woman with more medals on her military coat than Clarke knew existed.

Lexa interrupts their conversation with, “She’s the Intersect.”

“She what?”

“She’s the Intersect. She downloaded it. She just recognized a Russian operative upstairs.”

The other women in the room and on the screen look shocked and horrified.

“So it works?” the woman on the screen asks. “WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON. WHERE AM I? WHAT IS THE INTERSECT? WHY IS THERE A SECRET BASE IN THE BUY-MORE? WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?” Clarke yells, finally getting Lexa’s attention.

Lexa starts, “My name is Lexa Woods. I work for the CIA.”

“Anya Forrest, Colonel in the NSA.”

“And I’m General Indra Beckman, head of Homeland Security”

Clarke begins to laugh hysterically. “Did Raven put you up to this? She always goes WAY TOO BIG or way too small for pranks. Jeezus how much did she spend on this?!” She wanders the base touching weapons, poking screens, and searching for a hidden camera.

“This isn’t a joke, Miss Griffin,” Beckman interrupts.

The tone sobers Clarke immediately.

Beckman continues, “Three days ago, CIA operative Costia Daniels sent you an email. That email contained every secret the CIA has in what was called the Intersect Project. That information is now in your head. Until a new Intersect can be built, the CIA and NSA’s number one priority will be protecting you.”

“I’m sorry, what now?” Clarke asks.

“You will assist in missions as needed.”

Clarke is, again, much too stunned to grasp anything that was just said. Instead, she asks every question that has run through her mind since she thought she was about to kiss Lexa at work to the current moment. Costia was CIA? Why did she send it to me? How does it work? Can I get it removed? You’re sure this isn’t an over the top prank? Costia is dead?

Lexa, Anya, and Beckman patiently answer every question Clarke has. For the most part, they are very understanding of the barrage of questions. The questions continue for about thirty minutes, but eventually die down. This is real. Clarke will be working with the CIA. Other countries will try to find the Intersect, so she is in danger. She is now their most important asset, and they will protect her at all costs. She doesn’t really have a choice in this.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Clarke states. “We know, but your country is calling,” Beckman answers.

General Beckman hangs up the call, Anya goes back to cleaning an enormous gun, Lexa starts to organize files, and Clarke… Clarke sits at the table staring at her hands. Deep in thought, and too stunned to form coherent thoughts. After ten minutes, she takes a deep breath and addresses Lexa.

“So that date then?”

Lexa reads the implied question and answers, “Was part of my mission to find out what you knew.”

“Ah.”

“Clarke.”

“I don’t know why I thought it was anything else. No one that model hot dates a girl from the Nerd Herd. Is that like a requirement for spy work?”

Lexa cocks her head like a confused puppy.

Clarke glances between Anya and Lexa, and waggles her fingers between the two of them. “You know, the mind-blowing hotness? I mean, it works. Girl that looks like you asks me to jump off the roof and I’d probably do it without asking any follow up questions. Of course it was all fake. You’re probably straight. Really deluded myself into this one. Big yikes.”

Anya looks up from the barrel of her gun and chuffs, “Definitely not straight”

Lexa blushes but doesn’t disagree with Anya. Instead she addresses Clarke directly. “You do realize that we will need to continue dating, right?”

Clarke continues rambling to herself about being an idiot for thinking a girl like Lexa was into her, but then the content of Lexa’s question sinks in. Her brain jolts like a record scratch. “Huh?”

“It’s the perfect cover for why I’m suddenly in your life and may suddenly vanish from it. I can keep a close eye on you when you’re not at work, and it won’t seem suspicious if I stay over. During the day, Anya will work at the Buy More with you.”

Clarke still hasn’t wrapped her head around “continue dating” so instead asks, “I’m dead, right? That Russian operative in DVDs killed me and I’m bleeding out on the Buy-More floor, right? Because there is no way the US government just asked me to fake date a bombshell agent for the safety of our country.”

Anya finishes reassembling her gun, looks up at the newly christened fake couple, and says, “Believe it, babe.”

#clexa #chuck au #lexa #clarke griffin #chapter 2 #slow burn #fake dating #clexa chuck au #cia #formatting is a bitch going from word to this #anyone have recs for how its not?

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smythebros · 3 years

Text

challenge #54: twinkle lights

Written for SeblaineSundays.

word count: 1338 Rating: G

Genre: slice of life? Honestly this is the first time I’ve written fanfiction outside roleplaying and I wanted to do something sweet rather dirty considering I’m known for writing dirty stuff. Forgive me I’m bad a dialogue and it was like 2am when I wrote this. Basically just be gentle with me.

Sebastian and Blaine set up Christmas in Sebastian’s apartment. Set firmly with @blaine-d-anderson‘s version of the character and in that verse.

New York at Christmas was always a magical time for the city and it tended to be a tell tale sign wasn’t a proper new yorker if they told you otherwise but despite that simple fact Sebastian had never officially celebrated Christmas in the city, at least not officially in a way most people would. Every year prior to this one, Sebastian hadn’t bothered to decorate his apartment or even buy a Christmas tree? He wasn’t a grinch by any means but he just had never seen the point if you were gonna take it all down later and between having a few epic parties for Halloween and New Years. It just hadn’t felt practical for his life.

Of course one should never underestimate the impact one Blaine Anderson would have on your life. It was the first Christmas after Blaine and Kurt’s divorce and the first Christmas since Sebastian had run into Blaine at a certain halloween party that had led to them sleeping together and had finally led to them becoming something more of permanent fixtures in each other's life beyond being facebook friends after the years. It had been an utterly intense night between them but the days and times after Sebastian had felt himself giving more and more space in his life to Blaine, even if they never spoke actual words to what the relationship was. Sebastian had never been particularly good at having that conversation. He kept telling himself that it was way too soon for Blaine’s whole marriage to be tied down to anyone anyway in any real official capacity. The idea to actually spend Christmas together hadn’t ever been discussed either, it had simply happened. Sebastian had no desire to spend it with his father and Blaine had seemingly been free for the holiday- which, Sebastian suspected might have been a little white lie on his part, but why call him on it?

The snow fell slowly and leisurely outside the large glass walls of Sebastian’s expensive apartment that overlooked central park, you could barely see the sun though the grey and cloudy sky. The sound of jangling lights and a few annoyed, frustrated sounds come from the taller boy as he stood in front of the black synthetic tree that was proudly displayed- if currently naked- a little ways from him in the corner of the room. It had been a bit of a back and forth between him and Blaine about what sort of tree to get with Sebastian pulling every para-legal move he could to argue that dragging a real seven foot Christmas tree up to his apartment was a disaster waiting to happen. Who knew that law degree would come in handy for winning such a thing?

“I’m pretty sure the store sells them like this just to cause misery to everyone everywhere. Bloomingdale’s is secretly a portal to hell, this is literal proof.” Sebastian muttered as his fingers slipped through another tangled loop to try tug them apart as he gazed down at Blaine who was opening the sparkly tinsel in front of him. Any real frustration Sebastian had did seem to melt away at the sight of Blaine dressed in his adorable two piece black silk pajamas looking more like someone out of the 50’s than anyone modern, yet his hair was still gelled in place, apparently Blaine’s gel didn’t a holiday break - not on this one nor any other.

“It might explain the black Friday lines they have actually.” The shorter boy’s voice floated back at Sebastian as he narrowed his eyes in the air as if he was giving that thought some serious consideration before they fell back onto Sebastian, who was only dressed in a pair of tight black boxers since apparently the idea of any modesty at all was lost on the other. It might have been the total opposite to Blaine’s style but perhaps that was what the attraction was, Kurt felt like someone who was closed off and particular about how everything, including their relationship, was. Every choice had already been made in Kurt’s head without ever really making a proper effort to include Blaine in any of those choices. Sebastian was someone who, despite his charming smile and dirty mind actually made an effort to make him feel like he had a metaphorical seat at the table when it came to choices. Even on dumb holiday plans like this. There’s an easy laugh from Blaine as he tilted his head down as Sebastian gave another louder groan as he tugged the end of the lights from the box to only to discover a whole mess of more tangled lights. Blaine’s fingers curl around some of that silver tinsel as he pushes off the ground to close the distance between himself and Sebastian, his hand raising as he loops the tinsel around the taller man’s neck. “All right I’m only gonna say this once, Mister Smythe. You gotta breath. Your first Christmas is going great. I mean, short of christmas cookies in the oven it’s kinda perfect but that seemed like a lofty request on my part.” Blaine pointed out as he tilted his head back to meet those piercing green eyes.

There was a deep sigh from Sebastian as he let the tangle web of twinkie lights drop to the fall on a heap and instead his fingers found Blaine’s hip as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The touch is already so intimate and natural between them, easing the other against him. “I actually have no idea how to make cookies- I feel like that’s a failing on my part.” Sebastian shot back with his usual mischievous look as he gave an easy little click of his fingers before he dropped his head forward with a little brush of his tongue along his lower lip.

“ Listen, I just...wanted it to be...special. I guess.” There were about a thousand things left unsaid. Special after Kurt, after everything in high school, special after all missed years from each other's life. Most days Sebastian always tended to be someone who showed his affection and his love for someone though actions- be it sex or otherwise but he’d never tried something so...big for someone before, if the mile of broken hearts and one night stands that could literally circle the island of manhattan if you lined them up- and if if didn’t go perfect. What was the point of it in his mind?

“It is.” The reassurance from Blaine was like a calming balm and like someone had turned on a light in a very dark room all at the same time. Sebastian’s head tilted up to stare down at the shorter boy’s stupidly bright, adorable disney eyes and wide smile. Him and Blaine had shared quite a few kisses during their...undefined time to together but there was still a lot of firsts that they hadn’t had and has Sebastian leaned forward to sink his lips against the shorter boys, there was another first, the kiss was deep and indulge but it wasn’t sexual- it was like Sebastian was trying to bottle all those emotions into a single kiss. It was the sort of kiss that made time stop in movies, the sort of kiss that would make Anne Hathaway leg pop. The sort that made Blaine breathless when it finally ended, even as Sebastian’s forward dropped against his with a small smile.

“So, when are you gonna let me teach you how to make cookies?” Blaine’s voice danced over at him, full of affection as his hand reached up to cup Sebastian's neck.

“Well, now we’ve got plans for Christmas day..” Sebastian answered as he felt like the sun was going to explode out of his chest. He never wanted to not have this with the man in front of him.

Not for this Christmas Day, nor any year after. This is what he wanted, and always would.

#seblainesunday #seblaine #glee fic #Sebastian Smythe #seblaine sundays

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liquorisce · 4 years

Text

decisions, decisions pt 2

Fandom : Bleach

Pairings : Ichihime (ft. some ichi x ishi bickering which we love around here)

Rating : T

Part 1

A/N: A few months ago I wrote a post-tybw-karakura-gang-finishes-high-school kinda thing called ‘decisions, decisions’ ft career choice discussions and orihime thinking of leaving town for uni. I wanted to write some more of that stuff and more ichihime pining obvs, so here it is. also i hate myself for not being able to participate in ichihimeweek2020, i suck, but anyway, ‘nuff with the nonsense, here’s the fic:

(ps: pls be nice to me and like/reblog/comment or whatevs and tell me what u think, ily thx)

...

It’s five minutes to two, and Ichigo fought to stifle a yawn. The menacing five hundred pages of English grammar exercises in front of him wasn’t helping.

“... Unbelievable,” he curses, slamming the book shut, much to the annoyance of his bespectacled classmate sitting across him. “Why the hell can’t they just teach us proper English in school?! I’m absolutely fucking positive that Honda-sensei didn’t mention more than three tenses in her class. And what kind of English lesson takes place in Japanese anyway?!”

“... Quit your whining, Kurosaki. Some of us are trying to study here.”

Ichigo fumed. By ‘some of us,’ Ishida was pointedly referring to just himself and the long-haired beauty sitting right opposite him, who, judging by her giggling at his outburst, welcomed his distraction. The same giggling that was contributing to the problem, contributing to Ichigo’s immense distraction since after dinner.

“You’re not even human, Ishida,” he says dismissively. “Keigo’s literally made his bed on my dad’s couch, you can hear his goddamn snores, and Mizuiro left to ‘watch the stars’ with some new girl thirty minutes ago.”

“You’re the one who invited us over to your place for an all-nighter group study session and you’re calling it quits before the sun is up? As expected, you’re weak.”

He was right, this had been Ichigo’s idea, Yuzu had offered to make them dinner and his dad had plans tonight, so they were guaranteed some peace and quiet. Despite the noise and the chaos of their group, he missed hanging out with his friends. Ever since the school had given them voluntary study holidays for the upcoming University Entrance Exams, he didn’t get to see much of everyone, as they were either studying or training for competitions. Even today, Tatsuki and Chad left after dinner because they had to get up early for practice and they had decided they wouldn’t be giving the exams anyway.

Ignoring Ishida’s pointed attempts to rile him up, he turns his attention to Orihime, who despite enjoying their banter, was more focused on the cram book in front of her.

“Inoue, how are you still so motivated and so… awake?,” he asks, exasperated. “It’s almost 2 am! And you’ve been scribbling away furiously for the last thirty minutes. What are you even studying?”

“Mouuu, you’re right. I’m not able to solve this proof anyway. Maybe I should call it a night?”

“Electromagnetism?” Ishida asks, skimming the title of the chapter, “Oh, I’ve done this one, I can explain this to you if you want.”

He doesn’t know what irritates him more, Ishida’s nerdiness, or the soft look in his eyes as he unfailingly offers to help Orihime out, as he’d been doing a lot more of late, ever since they had started studying for the entrance exams together. In fact, it’d been this way this entire evening, starting from when he took a seat right next to her at the table as if he fucking belonged there, leaning over into her notebook, whenever she needed help, his arm casually brushing against her long, silken locks, her answering smile bright and incredibly close to him, and - Ichigo forces that thought to a halt because it has him gritting his teeth. “... For God’s sake, give her a break,” -

“... Shut up, Kurosaki, not everyone is applying to study *English* in University”-

“And what exactly do you mean by that, asshole?” Ichigo snarls, with more venom than needed, because despite having had enough with Ishida’s condescending attitude towards his study choices, his recent behaviour had Ichigo prickling under his skin.

“... Err, Kurosaki-kun…” Orihime starts, because she’s used to Ichigo and Ishida arguing (they’re just being affectionate, she always insists), there’s a glint in Ichigo’s eyes that’s different.

“... Exactly what I said, some of us don’t have the luxury of skipping the math and science exams,” -

“Ah, Kurosaki-kun is right! I think my brain really can’t function anymore tonight,” Orihime declares loudly, inserting herself in between them. “Kurosaki-kun, I think I will leave now. Thank you so much for hosting us today.” She bows, her formality annoying him even more, but still throwing him off guard.

As always, Orihime’s pleasant demeanour diffused the rising tempers… somewhat. With one last glare, Ishida grudgingly agreed, “Then I guess I will take my leave as well.”

Ichigo wants to be polite and say something like, “we should do this more often,” but he’s pissed off, and couldn’t wait to be rid of Ishida’s arrogant mug, so instead he offers, “Inoue, can I walk you home?”

He doesn’t notice the faint red on her cheeks or the hesitation on her face, when she mumbles, “If it doesn’t inconvenience you.” And he’s torn again - tearing his eyes away from the pretty blush dusting her cheeks unable to stop himself from wondering bitterly if she’d let Ishida walk her home without much protest.

“Ishida lives in the other direction and it would be out of his way, so I don’t mind.”

“Well then,” Ishida says, looking at her with more fondness than Ichigo would have liked, “Your eyes are all red and puffy. Sleep well. Don’t strain yourself, okay?”

“Yes sir,” she gives him the salute, “... good night!”

“... And text me that you got home safe. This idiot can’t be trusted with anything,”-

“... for fuck’s sake, just go home already!”

“Kurosaki-kun,” she whispers, amused, as she watches Ishida walk away with a cheeky grin on his face, “you’ll wake the neighbours with your angry yelling.”

“Ah, you’re right,” he mumbles, rubbing his neck sheepishly, as their footsteps fall into place beside each other, “I’m sorry for all the swearing, I don’t know why I let Ishida under my skin so much.”

“Hmmm,” she says, “It’s kind of cute, your bickering. If this were a yaoi novel, I’d totally ship it!”

“... what the hell?!” His face is red, not just because the thought of him… and Ishida… Ew. But also because this is coming from Orihime, the last person he’d ever expect to engage in fantasies of this sort.

Giggling, she quickly switches to a more somber note. “You seemed... on edge today. Did something happen between the two of you?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that question. Truth be told, he’s barely able to understand it himself. Sure, there was the usual trading of insults that took place between the two of them, but it was different this time. His whole demeanour just pissed him off. The way he always seemed to know what Orihime was asking, the way he was always able to help her, the familiar way he spoke to her… and the revelation that they’d been studying together for weeks now!

“I don’t know,” he sighs, because he can’t even explain what he is feeling, let alone the reason behind it, “... I guess it’s just the stress of the exam.”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” she whines, “I’m so thankful Ishida-kun is giving the same exams as me, and we can share practice questions and tips. I really wouldn’t be able to do this alone.”

He ignores her mention of him and the tick in his jaw in reaction. “But I don’t get it. You’re giving almost all the exams. Why?!? There’s surely no need.”

She blushes, ashamed, “I know it sounds stupid, but I really haven’t decided what I want to study in University. I figured if I just gave all of the exams, I would have more options to choose from.”

“... Come on,” -

“... And I will also prefer to go wherever I get a scholarship.”

His fist clenches, “... So you’re definitely applying outside of Karakura?”

“Yeah, although I’m not sure if there’s any point. It’s so difficult to aim for the National Universities, I’ll never get through. But the counselor says it’s worth a shot for the scholarship.”

“... I thought your aunt was helping you with tuition?”

“... Only till high school. And I cannot burden her anymore. I’ve received so much from her already.”

Ichigo doesn’t miss the way her voice wavers at the end, the guilt evident in her words. And he can’t stand it. “... Cheer up,” he says softly, playfully elbowing her. “You’re one of the smartest kids in school. Rank #2 after all the shit we went through last year! If anyone can do it you can.”

“... You think so?” she mumbles, looking up at him, her insecurities heartbreaking in the grey of her eyes.

Everything about her is so honest, it hurts him a little bit because his first thought is to say no, to talk her out of it, because the revelation is too sudden, too jarring - he can’t bear the thought of this town without her. But he nods, smiles encouragingly, because that’s just way too selfish.

Shaking his head out of these thoughts, he asks, “... what was the counselor’s recommendation, again? As a career path?”

“Ah, Hirata-san said maybe I should just follow my love for baking,” she says, smiling.

“... and? Why don’t you consider that? You wouldn’t have to give these blasted exams then.”

He liked the idea of this, now more than before, momentarily regretting his role in convincing her to apply to university. Orihime working in the local bakery, coming around his house everyday to share the leftovers, staying back for dinner maybe…

“... but Kurosaki-kun was the one who said I wouldn’t be very good at it!” She pouts, “You said I’d make too many things in weird flavours and nobody would want to buy them.”

Crap. He truly felt like waltzing back in time and whacking the past version of him for saying something like that. Because if it were anyone else shitting all over Orihime’s dream, he’d have sent the punk flying. Where were all these feelings coming from anyway?!

“... Shit, I didn’t mean,” -

“... it’s okay, you’re right. And besides I can work there part-time through University. I was thinking…” She took a deep breath. “Well, actually, it was Ishida-kun’s idea. Maybe I could study to become a doctor? My strength is in healing people anyway…”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Well of course, he'd say that. He's going to study medicine too." And of course he would try to talk Orihime into it. The bastard had taken every opportunity to slither by her side -

She laughs, a pretty sound, interrupting the profanity in his mind. "Yeah, he did say it would be nice to have some company… but I'm not sure." Sighing, she asks, "How did you decide on English Studies?"

It wasn't too difficult for him honestly. It helped that he was fairly certain he didn't want to study math or science going forward. "... I like stories. And I want to be able to read and share stories in a global medium, so I decided to study English."

He looks at her only to find her looking at him in fascination, "... Truth be told, I didn't spend too much time thinking about it. The career aptitude test returned similar results as well, so I just went with it." He shrugs, "I think I'll enjoy it. Let's see."

"Ahh, you sound so optimistic about your studies, Kurosaki-kun. I wish I could be like that."

They've reached her apartment building now and she turns to look at him, wistfully. He wishes he could do something for her, ease her anxieties in some way.

"What about you?" He asks.

She looks at him, puzzled.

"... You've told me all about what everyone wants you to do. What do you want to do? I'm sure you must have some inkling."

“... I,” she stops, opens her mouth again to say something, but nothing comes out. “... what I want… ah, you’ll probably think it’s silly.” She smiles wistfully to herself, because this wasn’t something that she’d ever admitted out loud.

He rolls his eyes, “... Try me.” Because she was many things, and yes, definitely silly sometimes in that unique way of hers, but he would never, could never, call her dreams silly. It’s a moment of realization for him, when he gets angry with the way she dismisses her own dreams that way, and he feels overwhelmed with the desire to pick them up, and keep them safe where no one can trample them, along with that spaced-out, wistful smile of hers.

“Well,” she gulps, nervous, “I’ve never really thought too much about going to university. Sensei says I’m wasting my potential... but honestly, I think I’ll be happy working.”

She looks at him unsurely, waiting for a reaction, an opinion, like everyone else. Everyone who’d been urging her to continue school and pursue all kinds of studies that she could possibly do, but… “I just - I want to build a simple life with someone I love. A family, maybe, someday.”

It comes out so fast, she wishes she could grab the words and shove them back in her mouth. She chances a glance at him, her cheeks hot and furiously embarrassed.

His expression is unreadable as he gazes down at her. She’s beautiful in the moonlight, he thinks, and it isn’t really a revelation to him, but the melancholy of her beauty is, the loneliness that he wishes he could extinguish as easily as he does hollows. “A simple life huh…” he murmurs. And he can almost picture it, Orihime, ten years from now, a child in her arms, a little boy maybe, with her wide brown eyes and -

“Well, looks like you have planned it out better than any of us,” he manages hoarsely, unable to look her in the eye anymore. Not with all these… feelings simmering so close to the surface. And before he can help himself, “Do you already know who this mystery man is?”

He’s come to realize how absolutely unequipped he is to hear the answer, but her unassuming statement has already taken residence inside him somehow, a burning sensation accompanying it.

His question jolts her into consciousness, and she notices they’re almost at her apartment. “Ah Kurosaki-kun is very curious today,” she laughs nervously, “only one confession per day! That’s the limit!” The fake cheer in her voice grates in her own ears but she hopes desperately it will steer him away because she’s this close to telling him sometimes, and this was one of those times. Especially in these rare moments when she feels an odd mixture of weakness and greed, where she wants to latch on to him and ask him to stay by her side, hoping selfishly that his kindness will make him say yes. But Orihime was practiced at hiding those feelings away.

“Is that right,” he smiles teasingly, albeit weakly, “... I didn’t know you were so mysterious, Inoue. Well goodnight, then.”

And as he watches her climb up the stairs to her floor, and then lean over the railings to wave goodbye one more time, he can’t help but think of that image of her again, happy and in love and so beautifully fulfilled. And he thinks of the shadow of the man next to her, who will protect that dream and that smile, and his stomach clenches bitterly.

“You deserve it,” he whispers to her retreating figure, “... You deserve all of it.”

- fin -

A/N : The ending was cheesy, I KNOW UGH

#ichihime #kurosaki ichigo #inoue orihime #bleach #liquorisce fanfiction

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ryqoshay · 3 years

Text

Tri-Arame: Neso Display

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~1.6k Rating: G Time Frame: Sometime during their second year Story Arc: Stand Alone

Author’s Note: Setsu’s reaction to the Kasumin Box was adorable and got me thinking. This is the result.

“Ayumu!” Yuu called. “Ayumu! Look! Look!”

Ayumu turned her gaze to here her friend was pointing excitedly. “Eeeeh?” She recoiled in surprise.

“They finally made merchandise for you guys!” Yuu cried joyously holding up a fan with a picture of Ayumu from a recent photoshoot. “I need to buy something! What to get? What to get?” She began searching the display.

Ayumu felt a strange mixture of embarrassment and pride as she scanned the collection. It felt odd knowing people would be buying items with her image on them, but she was learning to accept the support of her growing fanbase. And the fact that companies deemed their group popular enough to invest in creating merchandise was a testament to the effort everyone had put in, particularly for the recent School Idol Festival.

And of course, Yuu was thrilled, which didn’t come as any surprise, but it made Ayumu happy anyway.

“Ooo… Nesoberis!” Yuu suddenly reached forward to grab a plush. “Look, Ayumu! It’s you!” She held out a small, stuffed version of the redhead. “And it’s almost as cute as you, too!”

“Y-Yuu-chan…” Ayumu felt heat rise in her cheeks.

“Oh, they have Setsuna-chan as well! And Rina-chan! And… looks like everyone. I should take a picture.” Yuu fumbled for her phone. “I’ll bet Ai-chan will want one of Rina-chan.”

“And probably visa versa.” Ayumu found her voice again.

“That’s true.” Yuu agreed. “Say, do you think Kasumi-chan would want one of herself?” She grinned at her own joke.

“Perhaps.” Ayumu chuckled. “Although are you sure she wouldn’t want one of someone else?”

“Hrm…” Yuu considered. “I dunno. Maybe. But she would probably want one of Kasumi-chan.”

“It’s a shame they don’t have one of Yuu-chan.” Ayumu lamented for a moment.

“But I’m not a school idol.” Yuu laughed. “Why would they make one of me?”

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” Setsuna announced as she approached the other two, holding up the bag with her newly purchased manga. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Ne, Setsuna-chan! Look!” Yuu held out the plush still in her hand.

Immediately, grey eyes began to sparkle. “It’s so~ cu~te!” Setsuna cooed, reaching forward to touch it and practically squealing with delight as Yuu let her take it. “Almost as cute as the real Ayumu-san.” She held it close for inspection.

“I know, right!” Yuu nodded enthusiastically.

Geez, now Setsuna-chan’s doing it too. Ayumu was thankful there were no mirrors around as she no desire to see what her face looked like at that moment.

“And look, they have the whole club!” Yuu motioned dramatically to the display.

As far as Ayumu was concerned, Setsuna looked like she was about to die and go to heaven. And now that the focus seemed to be off her for the moment, she smiled as she watched her friend excitedly examine each version.

“I can’t decide.” Setsuna suddenly said as she stared at her armload of stuffed toys. “I want them all.”

Yuu laughed. “Setsuna-chan is going for a harem.”

The shorter girl shook her head. “A commemoration.” She corrected as her expression became more wistful. “You guys are all the closest friends I’ve had.” She explained. “I haven’t always had the easiest time making friends, what with hiding my hobbies at home and my identity at school.”

“What about the other members of the school council?” Yuu inquired.

“They’re more like coworkers or professional acquaintances. They only know Nana. They don’t know Setsuna, or any of this.” Setsuna motioned to the school idol merchandise.

“I see.”

“Perhaps someday I’ll let them in on the truth, but for now, I’m happy with the friends I’ve made in the club. And making a display of these would help me celebrate that fact.” Her normal smile returned as she hugged the nine nesos. “And I really can’t get over how cute they are.”

“Since you put it that way, I kinda wanna get one of each as well.” Yuu turned back to the display. “But I’m a little short this week, so I may have to collect them a few at a time. So today…” She picked up two “I think I’ll just one of Ayumu and Setsuna-chan. How about you?” She turned to the tallest girl of the three.

“Oh, uhm…” Ayumu scanned the display. “It would feel strange to get one of myself…”

“It’s fine, right?” Yuu shrugged. “Setsuna-chan is getting one of herself too.”

“No, I mean I feel like I should get at least one other…” She picked up one of her own and… Geez, they really are all as cute as Setsuna-chan said. Setsuna-chan… Her hand moved in that direction. “There, now I won’t get lonely.” She joked, holding up the two.

“Ayu-pyon needs her company after all.” Yuu chuckled.

Though that was the reference to which she herself had alluded, Ayumu still wasn’t quite used to hearing that nickname. But that was fine for now.

With new purchases to be made by all three, the girls headed to the registers.

Setsuna stood back and admired her newly set up display, the first idol themed thing she had put out in the open in her own room now that her parents had accepted her participation in the club. They were still slowly coming around to anime, so Setsuna hadn’t broken out everything from her storage places in her closet, at school and with various friends. However, a small shrine to school idols was probably alright now, especially since they represented her friends.

Her friends…

She stepped over to her desk and picked up her phone. She then aligned a shot of the collection, took it and sent it to the other members of the club through their group chat. Almost immediately, responses started to come in from the other girls and Setsuna smiled as she read the positive comments.

Idly, Setsuna picked up the Ayumu neso. It was a shame there wasn’t a Yuu to go with it, but Yuu wasn’t an idol. Still, Setsuna thought it would be a cute one. Cute… They were all cute. However, despite someone like Kasumi proudly proclaiming her cuteness, Setsuna found she much preferred the pure and unassuming cuteness of someone like Ayumu. She touched the tiny bun on the side of the Ayumu’s head and smiled.

Ayumu had shown Setsuna how to make the stylized bun surrounded by braids a while back. Setsuna had managed to do it on her own, not once but twice, to give herself twin buns during the club’s summer camp. However, in doing so, she had realized she preferred letting someone else do it for her. Someone more skilled and who seemed to enjoy working with hair. Someone like Ayumu.

Wait, what am I doing? Setsuna blinked back to reality as she realized she had been hugging the nesoberi tightly to her chest while lost in her thoughts. But… was that actually wrong? Hugging cute plushies was a normal thing to do, right? Even when they looked like…

Blushing, Setsuna put the nesoberi back in its place and went to her desk to study for a while. However, every now and again, she found herself glancing back over at her new display of idol merchandise. And each time she couldn’t help smiling as she recalled why she wanted all of them.

She was glad she hadn’t decided to wait to collect all of them like Yuu and Ayumu were doing. Sure, she would have to put off getting a couple new books immediately upon their release for the next month or two, but it had been worth it.

Her attention kept returning to the nesoberis even as she closed her books and started getting ready to turn in for the night. Part of her wanted to take one down again and bring it to bed with her, but another part of her was hesitant, stuck on trying to decipher the details of the desire.

Her phone vibrated.

TakasakiYuu: Sorry for the late reply

TakasakiYuu: I lost track of time working on new songs for you guys

TakasakiYuu: Hope you havent already gone to bed

TakasakiYuu: If so sorry if I woke you up

ScarletStorm: I’m still awake

TakasakiYuu: Oh good

TakasakiYuu: I wanted to show you my display

TakasakiYuu: Ayumu already got to see it in person

TakasakiYuu: She even helped me figure out where to put them

A picture arrived showing the Ayumu and Setsuna nesoberis on the bookshelf beside Yuu’s keyboard, turned such that it looked like they were watching.

TakasakiYuu: Normally Id have them facing out into the room

TakasakiYuu: But when I turn them like this its kinda like you two are here with me to help me when I get stuck on something

TakasakiYuu: Its already helped me twice tonight

TakasakiYuu: I dont think Ill have room for all seven like this

TakasakiYuu: Well I mean I can fit them all here on the shelf when I get them

TakasakiYuu: But theres really only room to turn two like this

TakasakiYuu: But thats alright

TakasakiYuu: Im happy its at least you two

ScarletStorm: That’s a cute idea

ScarletStorm: I love it

ScarletStorm: Thanks for showing it to me

TakasakiYuu: Anyway I hope you guys like what Ive written

TakasakiYuu: Ill have something to listen to before practice tomorrow

ScarletStorm: I’m sure it will be good

ScarletStorm: I’ll look forward to it

TakasakiYuu: Have a good night!

TakasakiYuu: Sleep well!

ScarletStorm: You as well

Setsuna turned off the screen of her phone and set it next to her clock in her headboard.

Sleep well… She would sleep well while snuggling something soft and cute…

With that thought in mind, she grabbed her Ayumu nesoberi again and lay down. It was fine just for one night, right? She had a test coming up the next day and needed a good night of rest. And if Yuu had new material to work on, practice would be intense as well, so she would also need to sleep well for that.

Setsuna hugged the plush to her chest and closed her eyes.

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

#YuuAyuSetsu #Takasaki Yuu #Yuki Setsuna #Uehara Ayumu #Tri-Arame #Love Live Nijigasaki #fanfic

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your-anxious-nightmare · 5 years

Text

If I...

Summary: Remus and Logan are an unlikely pair, but nothing could keep them apart, not even if someone committed the ultimate crime. (Based on If I Killed Someone For You by Alec Benjamin) Word Count: 1982 WARNINGS: Blood mention, Death mentions, Murder mentions, Abuse mentions. Tags: @sandersidess (you posted that this^ was the perfect song for them so I thought it best I tag you.) @bouquet-of-existentialism (the best beta ever)

"Would you love me more if I killed someone for you?" Remus whispered, head leant in Logan's lap as his eyes stared unfocused towards the TV. Logan's hand stilled, fingers tangled in Remus' curls.

"Excuse me?"

"I said we should watch murder conspiracies." Remus rolled over, smiling up at his best friend with that slightly demented glint in his dark brown eyes. Logan squinted slightly, before letting a light laugh escape his lips. He grabbed the remote and handed it to the man in his lap, watching as he opened youtube and started up their favourite spooky playlist.

Remus and Logan were the most unlikely pair. Logan was smart, sophisticated. He dressed in button-down shirts and carried a satchel and always had a charger for any device.

Remus was nothing alike that. He wore ripped jeans and bleach-stained t-shirts with combat boots that were as old as he was. His phone was forever below 20% and he never had a jacket. Anyone you asked would vouch he didn't even know what a hairbrush was.

But somehow, over their years of high school and college in the same classes, they had become two peas in a pod. They knew more about each other's lives than they did about their own, spent countless nights crying in each other's arms. It was a surprise to many but you couldn't separate them no matter what.

Remus was known to be a little on the twisted side of life. He was always discussing the horribly gory details of history, or making sick jokes. He had given Logan a rabbit's foot keyring for Christmas one year and it wouldn't have shocked the bespectacled man if he had severed the limb himself.

So it wasn't worrying when things like murder or death were brought up in conversation.

"I just wish he would listen! There is no need to talk over me when I am nearing the end of a sentence; I'm about to be quiet in expectance of a response if he would just wait."

"I'll kill him for you."

"You will do no such thing, you have three papers due in two days and we have a presentation next week, I am not doing all the work for you because you ended up in prison."

There were times when Remus would zone out, where walls would become the sole focus of his energy or chairs would offend his entire being. He would flinch at sirens or duck his head around police. Logan had always thought it was because of his childhood but as the years passed, he began to wonder if it was something more.

"Logan?" The man turned to look at his friend, tears streaming down his cheeks as his hands clench the torn hoodie.

"I'm okay, Rem," Logan spoke, voice eerily calm around the now dried split in his lip. A bruise began to darken on his forehead and his breaths were shallow; whether from the silent sobs clawing up his throat or the punches that had been landed against his ribs, Remus couldn't tell. At that moment, he knew Logan should never look that broken again.

"It's okay to not be okay, Lo." Remus stepped closer, hand outstretched to grasp the fabric from his friend's hands, slowly pulling it away to place it on the counter beside them. "It'll be okay Logan, he can't hurt you here. I won't let him hurt you again." The walls shattered as Logan fell into Remus' arms, tears immediately soaking through to his taller friends shoulder. Remus ran a hand through his now unruly hair, rubbing the man’s back and silently vowing to protect him against all odds.

It was a cold winter night, the rain pounded against the windows and trees outside created shadows that even Logan found difficult to rationalise. Remus had gone out that morning and was yet to return, to even text and say where he was or how long he would be. It wasn't like him to vanish, and it certainly wasn't like Logan to sit at the counter watching the clock as he drank far too much coffee.

The door shook with a loud and desperate knock, Logan’s heart jumping out of his chest at the sudden noise. Was it the wind? Is it a murderer? No, of course not, he reasons, it's Remus finally coming back to his flat for an extremely late dinner. He took a breath to calm his heart as another knock sounded at the door.

"Remus? Where have you been?" Logan asked as he pulled it open, immediately bettered by the wind. The man in front of him looked nothing like the friend he'd known for years. His eyes lacked the usual gleam of mischief, and his hair was plastered to his forehead.

"I need a place to hide. I've got to talk to you and I promise I won't lie this time. You're the only person that will understand please just let me in." Remus stammered, lip trembling from either fear or the cold- Logan couldn't tell.

"Rem, what's going on? You were meant to be back for lunch and never turned up, then dinner and you did not text even to say you would be late. And now you've arrived spouting 'I'm sorry's and that you need to hide? Remus, talk to me." Logan grabbed the man's hand, spinning him to a stop from his pacing of the living room.

"I did something." He whispered, running a hand through his wet locks, eyes filling with tears as he looked at Logan.

"Sit down." Logan pushed him towards the couch, ignoring that he'll damage the fabric with the water that runs down his body. He wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, leaving him briefly to make tea before returning to sit next to his shaking friend. "Tell me what happened."

"He hurt you. I couldn't- he couldn't. He didn’t even fight back," he was whispering and sputtering his thoughts out. His hands wrapped around his favourite mug, one that had shattered when Logan moved in and he'd glued back together with glitter glue.

"Did you get in an altercation with someone?" Logan's mind reeled, eyes tracing his pale skin for any sign of injury.

"He was there and- I didn't know- and he said bad things Lo-Lo. Bad bad things. I don't know what happened but then he was on the ground and I couldn't stop. I didn't want too, you have to understand that. I didn't want to do it- it just happened."

"Remus," Logan whispered, something clicked in his mind and heart. He slowly placed his own mug on the table, hands shaking as they covered Remus'. "Did you find Hayden?" The name sent a flinch down both men's spines, Logan's because the man beat him when they split up, and Remus... "Remus, what happened?"

"He was, he was at the cafe, our cafe. He was with his friends, the people he calls friends, talking about you. He said bad things Lo-Lo, really bad things. And I followed him home and knocked on the door. I think I blacked out, but I was on top of him and there was blood, so much blood."

"Remus." He didn’t want to pull his hands away, but if what Remus was saying was true, the hands he was holding were the same hands used to kill Logan’s abusive ex-boyfriend. "Did you kill Hayden?"

"It was an accident." Remus looked up at Logan, tears cascading down his cheeks. A single sob escaped his throat, shaking his body so hard the tea in the mug splashed over the side, staining the blanket still curled around him.

"I believe you." He didn't know why he said it. Logan knew, in every sense of the terms, Remus was a murderer. He had killed a man with his bare hands. "Remus, I believe it was an accident, but you have to be honest with me okay?" Remus nodded, letting go of the mug so Logan could place it on the table, fingers lacing with his.

"Tell me where he is." Remus recounted the story, how he sat back and realized what he'd done, spent an hour in tears then started to clean the scene. He explained how he'd wiped down everything he touched, vacuumed the floor and thrown out the old bag. Logan didn't ask, and Remus didn't tell, but they both knew the body had been removed from the scene.

"Did anyone see you go there?" Remus shrugged, eyes widening with fear.

"I don't want to go prison Logan, I can't get locked away. What if they saw, what if they know it was me?"

"You will not get locked up Remus, I will not let that happen." Logan pulled him close, wrapping his arms tight around the pale man, mind racing with all the possibilities. The body could be discovered, Remus could be found out, Logan could be a suspect himself. They would have to change Remus's appearance just in case, his signature messy brown hair with the single grey streak would be too easy to recognise if anything came to light.

"We will deal with this more tomorrow, for now, I think it best we sleep. It's been a long night for both of us." Logan helped Remus up, taking him to his bedroom and giving him a change of clothes before pulling him into the bed, both of them holding onto each other as if the world was about to end.

When day broke, Logan left to the shops to buy hair dye, returning to find Remus having shaved his moustache and the stubble on his jaw already. They sit in the bathroom for hours, Logan slowly bleaching the curls before putting green over the top, Remus's favourite colour and a choice that anyone around them would completely expect. Remus found his old glasses, removing the contacts he so loved and resigning to look like a messy, translucent version of his best friend.

"Logan, what if they say I'm on the loose? Will you turn me in?" Remus asked, curled up once again in Logan's lap, head rested on his shoulder as his fingers played in the brushed out curls.

"Never."

"What if I'm on the news?"

"You won't be."

"But Logan-"

"No. It is not going to happen. Remus, I'm not letting him take away the last thing I have left. He was the reason my parents don't speak to me, he was the reason I broke my leg two years ago. He will not be the reason my best friend is ripped away from me."

"Do you love me?" Remus sat up onto his knees next to Logan, with eyes wide behind his thick glasses. His hands rest on Logan's shoulders, fingers brushing the dark skin that stretched the back of his neck.

"Of course I do. You are my best friend." Logan smiled lightly, removing one hand to intertwine their fingers, tapping morse code for 'Always' into the back of his hand.

"No, that's not what I mean. You're willing to hide a murderer in your house, a killer, a maniac. No one in their right mind would do that unless they truly cared for that person. So why are you willing too?"

"Because I care about you, Remus. I do not know if it is love, but you are the only person that has stuck by me all this time. I know it is not an ideal situation and I know we could both end up in a terrible position but you are all I have left. You did it to protect me, and so I will protect you."

Remus and Logan were an odd pair, they were polar opposites. But together, they could face the world. They would hide from sirens and wash away blood, never telling a soul what had happened that night.

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winterromanov · 5 years

Text

we will grow taller together - bucky x reader

PART TWO - NO KID HATES CUPCAKES

parts: zero | one

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

extract: Before you accept his request, you hand him the box of cupcakes. He looks at you with surprise and uncertainty, mouth dropping open a little. You snort a laugh. “They’re cupcakes. Steve told me about Clover and I saw them on the way here. Couldn’t resist.”

genre: nanny x single father!au

taglist:@blindedbyyourgrace17 @verygraphicink @chubby-dumplin @igotkatiepowers @welcome-to-my-studylife (still open, reply/message to be added)

“This is so weird.”

As soon as work had finished a text had appeared in your notifications from Steve, detailing an address of a small apartment block in Brooklyn, and to meet him there. There didn’t seem an option in Steve’s world to decline the invitation. You were going to meet James Barnes and you were going to do it now. Well—within the hour, because despite having lived in New York for the last few years you were still heavily reliant on Google maps and sheer hope that you’d turn a corner and randomly appear at your destination. You’d ended up passing the same indie bakery so many times that it felt rude not to go in and buy some of the cupcakes displayed beautifully in the window. Now, you clutch a white paper box in your hand filled with a strawberry cheesecake, two Oreo and one that is peanut butter and jelly, because even if whatever is about to happen goes horribly, you figure no kid hates cupcakes.

Steve shakes his head, leaning across to press the buzzer. The apartment block is, admittedly, much nicer than your own. There is a lot of exposed brickwork in an edgy, retro way rather than a neglected way, and no drunks loiter in the stairwells. James lives in one of two apartments on the fifth (and top) floor of the complex and when you clambered into the elevator no-one was peeing in it.

It’s practically five-star luxury.

“What did you say to him about why I’m here?” you ask. You fight the urge to slap him when he looks back at you in faux-innocence. “For fuck’s sake, Steve! Have you not even told him—“

Your sentence is cut short when the lock on the door clicks and a man appears in the doorway, rubbing his left eye tiredly like he’s just woken up. His hair is a little too long, dark and dipping into his eye-line, and he’s wearing a scruffy Columbia hoodie and sweats. James Barnes. You do recognise him. Maybe not this exact version of him, but you do recognise him all the same.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greets, a bit too brightly. James blinks, as if he’s going to reply, but the action causes him to do a double-take when he sees you standing there.

“Hey…” he says, eyebrows knitting together. You offer him an awkward smile. “Sorry—I, uh, I wasn’t expecting visitors. I thought Steve was just dropping by.”

“Yeah,” you reply, glaring pointedly at Steve. “I thought he was going to mention that I’d be tagging along.”

Steve shrugs simply, like this was his plan all along. He claps Bucky on the shoulder, but his eyes remain on you, sussing you out. “Sorry, man, completely slipped my mind. This is (Y/N), by the way.”

You offer a wave which, in hindsight, is super dorky, but Bucky’s look of suspicion softens to elusive recognition. “Yeah, yeah, of course. You knew Natasha from college.”

You’re so surprised he remembers a detail like that at all and it must show on your face, but James doesn’t react either way. “Yeah. We were roommates in freshman year.”

“Right.” Bucky nods once, before ushering off to the side. “Please come in. It’s a bit of a mess, but I didn’t—I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep for.”

You walk awkwardly into a fairly large living space, the flooring a light wood laminate other than a bright striped rug in the centre. The walls are plain but spotted with photographs and prints, the sofas a dark red fabric and positioned round a glass coffee table. A television is positioned on a cabinet on the central wall and while much bigger than yours, it’s not that catches your eye—there are books everywhere. Books stacked haphazardly on shelves along all the walls; an antique mahogany bookcase full to brimming in an alcove; books spilling off the coffee table and onto the floor. There are standard paperbacks you’d find in every single Barnes and Noble, fat black Penguin classics, leather-bound first editions that may have fallen out of Belle’s library in Beauty and the Beast. You are that blown away by the sheer volume of literature you almost forget why you’re here in the first place.

That’s when you notice a set of illustrated Harry Potter hardbacks on an armchair and tiny mismatched socks drying on a clothes horse, a stuffed Paddington Bear and Peter Rabbit chilling on top of a chest that matches the bookcase. You also notice the absence of a certain child.

“No Clover?” Steve asks, sitting down on the sofa in a naturally comfortable way that suggests he’s a consistent visitor to the Barnes household. He pulls out a cuddly kitten that must have fallen between the sofa cushions and places it gently beside him.

Bucky shakes his head. He rubs his eyes again. “No—Becca takes her on Thursdays. She’ll be back in a couple of hours or so. Gives me the chance to mark papers or, uh. Nap. Apparently.”

A laptop is also open on the coffee table, and a copy of Shakespeare’s Macbeth. “Are you a teacher?”

“No—well, kind of. I lecture in literature at Columbia.” Well, that explains the sweater, then. And the books. He gestures towards the couch. “Please, make yourself at home.”

Before you accept his request, you hand him the box of cupcakes. He looks at you with surprise and uncertainty, mouth dropping open a little. You snort a laugh. “They’re cupcakes. Steve told me about Clover and I saw them on the way here. Couldn’t resist.”

“Oh.” James says simply, looking down at the box. It’s like he doesn’t receive kindnesses from strangers very often and makes you wonder just how much he distrusts the world. You mean—from what you’ve heard, he’s got a right to be unsure. “Thank you. She’ll love these.”

“No problem. The lady in the shop said the peanut butter and jelly ones are unlike anything you’ve ever tasted. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, but she was wearing a hat shaped like a red velvet cupcake so obviously I trusted her opinion.”

His mouth cracks into a glimmer of a smile. Muted, subtle, almost reluctant. He may be one of the saddest people you’ve ever met. It burns off him like a bonfire. The ashes gather in piles round your feet.

(Gosh, you thought empathy was Steve’s thing.)

Steve suggests making coffee and James doesn’t disagree, considering he’s still got about thirty quizzes to grade by tomorrow. As they both disappear off into the kitchen, Steve gives you a pointed look and closes the door behind him. It feels all kinds of wrong to corner this hurting, confused man into whatever arrangement Steve has in his head; an arrangement you’re not even sure of yourself. But you find yourself wanting to help him anyway. James is sad. But he’s gentle, and clever, and trying to make the best of a situation nobody wishes on anybody.

As you try not to eavesdrop on the muffled voices in the kitchen, you walk the outline of the living room, pausing in front of items that catch your eye. Each of James’ photos sits in beautiful, ornate frames, winding wood engraved with flowers and leaves that you assume must be gifts. You recognise Clover immediately—most of his pictures include a tiny girl with frizzy blonde hair, varying in age from new-born to recent. One sat in front of a grey screen, showing off the gap in her front teeth. One in a swimming pool wearing flashy pink sunglasses. One where James is clutching a small white bundle, his cheeks flushed red, looking down at the baby like she’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. There’s a couple with either Steve or Natasha, another with a tall, dark-skinned guy you’ve seen on Steve’s Facebook, a few others with two unnamed brunettes—one, you think, must be his sister or at least a close relative, the same bright blue eyes and dark hair.

The other—well, it must be Connie. Petite and elegant and totally gorgeous, with a small upturned nose and big eyes like an animal in an old Disney cartoon. She grips Clover tightly and the girl is frozen in a giggle, a kiss pressed to her cheek. You can almost see James on the other side of the camera, totally unknowing that it’s one of the last times he’ll see the two of them together in the present.

You deliberately force yourself away before spiralling. Real loss stories. The last thing you need is for your heart to completely spill over. Instead, you drag yourself over to his beautiful bookcase, running your hand over the faultless dark wood. The glass inside is dusty and probably needs a once over with a cloth but you can see inside anyway, eyes skimming over titles. You see some Ford Madox Ford, Woolf, Joyce, Plath, a massive collection of Keats offset by Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey. There’s no consistency to his interests. Instead, there’s a bit of everything (in the English speaking canon at least) and to your delight, even some philosophy.

(Admittedly your philosophy major hasn’t come in that useful, but at least it’s fucking interesting.)

A few minutes pass before the kitchen door opens again. Both men look flustered like they’ve just had a fraught, whispered argument, which doesn’t bode well for you—but instead of addressing it, they sit down on opposite sofas in silence. Steve’s arms are crossed, mug loudly placed on The Chamber of Secrets. James’ eyebrows are arched in a scowl. No-one has made you a drink, clearly forgotten in the process.

Well. This is fucking awkward. You don’t know whether it would more weird to sit down or to just leave. You quietly start to make your way to the couch next to Steve but he abruptly rises, muttering something about going to the bathroom. Suddenly, you’re left alone with James, the tension sitting uncomfortably in the air like storm clouds. You fold your legs over each other, mouth pressed in a thin line.

“I—“ James begins, before locking his jaw closed. He’s pensive. Choosing the right words. “I don’t know what Steve has said to you, exactly, but I’m fine. I don’t need anybody. And it wasn’t his place…”

“Oh my God, I know,” you interrupt hastily, not wanting him to think you’ve forced your way into his home with intent you had no right to have. “Trust me, James, I’m only here as a favour to Steve. He always thinks he knows what’s best and, like, I know his intentions are good but his best isn’t always everyone else’s.”

Not for the first time since you arrived, James looks surprised. The tension seems to dissipate slightly, the atmosphere less fraught. His shoulders relax. “It’s not that you don’t…I’m sure Clover would like you, but I’m still getting used to…”

“You really don’t need to explain. Like you said. It isn’t anyone’s place but yours to decide what you need.”

James’ smile is soft and tired. “Thank you for caring enough to turn up, though. That’s more than I can say for some people I actually know well.”

Ouch. His bitterness singes on his tongue, still raw and swollen. You can allow Steve to be right about one thing—maybe you could be a good friend to him, or at least someone you could get to know better. You have a distinct lack of any real relationships in your life and his ridiculous collection of books is enough to convince you he’s someone worth befriending. You reach out for a wad of neon post-it notes and a biro, scribbling down your phone number, slapping it unceremoniously onto his knee. He rips it off with bemusement, curling it into his palm.

“If you want to complain about students or laundry or how life is sometimes incredibly shitty,” you grin, “Call me. Unless it’s eight-to-six most days, because my boss is a tight-ass and won’t hire anyone else so I can have more than one day off every year. Other than that I’m totally free.”

“Wow. You have even less free time than me. At least Clover wakes up past eight on weekends.” He blinks slowly, clutching your number tightly. “And thank you. I really do appreciate it.”

Steve has been in the bathroom for an awfully long time and you’ve known him long enough to realise he’s doing it on purpose. Instead of hanging about while Steve and James chat uneasily in your presence, you take it as your cue to leave. Bucky tries to explain that you don’t need to leave so soon, but you’re genuinely worried Steve will sit on the toilet playing iPhone games for literal hours in order to leave you two to ‘talk’ if you don’t walk out the door.

“I hope Clover enjoys the cupcakes,” you say, once you’re stood back in the hall. “You should have one too. The endorphin rush you get while eating cake is unparalleled.”

James laughs, like actually laughs, his hand curled round the doorframe. “Maybe I will. See you around.”

“Yeah. See you.”

The door eases shut and you shiver now you’re out of the warmth of James’ apartment, but you can’t help but think this whole weird thing didn’t go as badly as you thought it would.

#mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #we will grow taller together

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