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#my friends are all miles ahead of me and can actually understand this stuff
jennsterjay · 10 months
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What's up, danger? (spoilers ahead)
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Somewhere in a relatively unpopulated part of Spider HQ, Miles and Hobie were walking and talking. Actually, Hobie was listening to Miles vent, but he didn't mind. He probably hadn't talked about much with anyone. The two slowed their walk to a stop, and found supports to rest their backs on while they faced each other and continued talking.
Hobie: I can't say I agree with you mate, I think you're a bloody good Spiderman.
Miles: But that's the thing! The second I got here, I've been treated like a danger to everyone. And now everyone's acting like it never even happened! And me escaping this futuristic joint, beating the other me, and stopping Spot all in one day, was all by the skin of my teeth!
Hobie raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything
Miles: -And don't get me started on Gwen and Peter. They're trying...but I don't even know what to say to them now. I wanted to see them so bad before I got here and- hell I don't know... I...
Miles sighed and hung his head for a moment
Hobie: I understand, you've had this stirring around in your head like a neverending mixtape. It's good that you're letting it out. Things may not be the same anymore, but thing is the most consistent thing about life is its inconsistency
Miles lifted his head up, waiting for him to continue
Hobie: I know you care about those two, and you know that they care about you, so give it some time and when you're ready, talk to em.
Miles thought about this for a moment and nodded his head
Hobie: And as for Miguel, Prowler, and Spot. Against you it was no competition, mate. You folded them into next week.
Miles laughed
Miles: Barely but ok
Hobie: Nah mate, you were just too damn smart for them. That's why you're the coolest Spiderman here.
Miles: Huh, you think so?
Hobie: I know so
Miles: Heh...thanks man. If anything you're the coolest for real. I'm surprised you don't have like 50 people hanging off of you and trying to get your number.
Hobie snickered
Hobie: Haha so you think I have rizz, mate?
Miles: Yeah I mean look at you! You have this punk rock style going on and your jacket and suit has spikes on it and you're tall as fuck bro. And your hair is cool, never seen anything like it.
Hobie: Well Yards, I can say I'm flattered. Your suit is equally cool though. You're the only one with a spraypainted suit. Very anti-establishment.
Miles: Haha yeah...
Hobie noticed how Miles looked away, like his thoughts started to drift off somewhere else.
Hobie: Something on your mind Meters?
Miles: I uh...really liked Gwen before all this. And a part of me still wants her as a friend but...sometimes I think even before all this happened that I was out of her league. Then some weeks back I had a crush on that girl that let me escape from Miguel before I was launched to Earth 42. Come to find out she's taken already. I swear I have such bad luck with this stuff you'd think it's a canon event.
Miles tries to laugh it off, but Hobie can tell the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.
Hobie: Well mate, flirting is a skill forged with confidence and experience. You have a damn good personality, and you don't even need to try if you're just being yourself. Plus, somewhere there's a bloke out there who understands you and truly appreciates you for who you already are
Miles was caught off guard by this and felt his face heat up. Hobie was just hyping him up, being his straightforward self. He still wasn't used to hearing compliments like that...but he had to recover somehow before Hobie noticed the look on his face.
Miles: How are you so sure?
Hobie smirked
Hobie: I was this sure the whole time
Miles chuckled
Miles: Oh really? Then how about we make a bet. If you can find one person like how you described in a week, then I'll buy you that new guitar amp.
Hobie: Alright bet. In fact...I can think of one person right now who would like nothing more than to swoop you.
Miles looked around confused, then looked back at Hobie who had a smug look on his face
Miles: Who?
Hobie leaned off of the support he rested his back on and walked forward, steadily closing the distance between them. Miles' eyes widened and his heartbeat sped up as he finally understood why.
Hobie stood in front of him and placed his hand on Miles' shoulder, and looked into his eyes with a gentle smirk.
Hobie: What's up, danger?
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northlight14 · 10 months
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Fixing Larry Butz’s character development
‼️spoilers for Phoenix Wright trilogy ahead‼️
I’m aware that what I’m about to say probably isn’t anything new in the ace attorney fandom but I wanted to give my thoughts on all this anyway. I know both myself and a lot of the people in the fandom fucking hate how Larry was characterised in the 3rd game. I got told by a friend before hand that they completely ruined his character but admittedly I still held out a bit of hope, only to be majorly disappointed. As much as I adore the 3rd game, it does honestly feel like they forgot about everything that made Larry likeable in the first game. So this is basically gonna be me talking about how I personally would have developed his character.
First things first, they should’ve kept his personality and bonds with the other characters the same. While he’s similar and I’m more than happy with Phoenix getting annoyed with Larry, in the 3rd game Larry’s likeable traits are all completely abandoned and what’s left is just a womanising idiot and it feels like Phoenix straight up hates him. Larry can be a bit of an idiot who pursues relationships with women that don’t work out, I’ve got no problem with that as long as he isn’t creepy about it. But let’s not forget this dude interrupted an entire murder trial just to defend his friend he hadn’t talked to in literal years! Larry is loyal as fuck and in the first game Phoenix notes that while he always seems to get into trouble, it’s hardly ever his fault and he just has bad luck. If he was gonna be shown in the third game that should’ve been shown more. I guess it kind of is in some instances but never properly and it’s really disappointing.
Secondly, have him either make an appearance or at least be mentioned in the second game. This pissed me off so much Larry wasn’t so much as mentioned in this game. We obviously talk about Phoenix’s mourning period after “Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death” but what about Larry? He was childhood friends with Miles too who lost touch and just got him back only to lose him again! Miles, who in school, despite them having their differences, never told anyone about how he suspected Larry of actually stealing his money. That might not sound like a big thing but Larry even notes that if Phoenix hadn’t been the one being accused, he would’ve been. Chances are Larry was accused of stuff all the time as a kid. Considering that, Miles was probably the first person in a long time who didn’t want to get him in trouble. Continuing with this, Phoenix would be the only person Larry knows how knew Miles like he did and would truly know what he’s going through since they both lost that same childhood friend after just getting him back. Phoenix, the only person who’d understand, who spends that entire time refusing to speak about it, to the point he tells Maya to not even say his name. Literally all I want is either a few scenes of Larry trying to talk to Phoenix about it, only for Phoenix to shut him down instantly and then later Larry either also getting mad at Miles on Phoenix’s behalf or trying to calm Phoenix down about his return, and then also getting to see Miles again after he’s back from the dead and them having their reunion. Or, if there truly wasn’t time for any added scenes, just have it be mentioned in passing when Maya tries to talk about it and Phoenix just tells her “I’ve already told Larry and the others to not even say his name”. Just something small like that to show that Larry is also mourning the loss of his childhood friend adds just another layer to his character that I think he deserves and makes the whole thing more interesting in my opinion.
Finally, actually address his issues and insecurities instead of just making it a joke🙄 I feel like they tried to do this somewhat in the third game but honestly it just fell really flat for me. This isn’t me saying that Larry suddenly has to be this really tragic character because I definitely don’t want that. In a series filled with dead loved ones, murder and trauma, I really like that Larry can offer a form of comic relief. But if they’re going to repeatedly acknowledge the fact that he’s super insecure in the third game, at least go into why rather than just saying it🤦. Since first school Larry has been blamed for things to the point that his school had a fucking saying for it. It’s no wonder he feels inadequate in comparison to the other characters and it wouldn’t surprise me if him persuing these relationships with women is a way for him to achieve a form of validation that he was deprived of as a kid. Now obviously the game doesn’t have to go that deep into it and can leave things open to interpretation but I think Larry would have benefited from having a moment of seriousness during one of the cases after he messed up, genuinely asking Phoenix “how can I help? I know I keep messing things up. I have all my life and I want to make it right.” Just a moment of genuine friendship and reassurance between the two of them so it doesn’t seem like Phoenix hates Larry’s very being (seriously they’re supposed to be childhood best friends and they’ve stayed friends all this time but the third game has me asking why that’s the case)
Those are just my thoughts tho and I’m down to hear other’s opinions!
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🧜🏻‍♀️ - send me a description of yourself (personality-wise, hobbies, favorite things, physical characteristics, or all of the above, whatever you’re most comfy with!) and i’ll ship you with someone :) pls include gender preference and fandom!!
Hi! I’m Lilly, yes like that one but with two ls in the middle instead of one (I guess you can tell I’d say marauders era from the reference but yeah, HP fandoms, marauders era <3)
I’m 5’3, lean and I’m relatively tan (I guess olive would work) , I have big brown eyes (almost black), a small nose and very nice lips. Kinda pretty I’ve been told. I swear I must sound so pretentious I can’t describe myself ugdjhdhd. Oh my hair’s dark brown, with caramel lights.
Personality tho, that’s waaay easier. Maybe. I’m friendly, tho I can be shy in some situations, I’m an ambivert (yeah, we exist), I’m bi/pan, guess male leaning but not that much. Best of both worlds ey? MBTI can’t decide if I’m INTP, ENTP, INTJ or ENTJ, so I guess that’s something. I’m very open with my likes and dislikes but I keep everything emotional very bottled up. Have you seen Dean Winchester? Like that.
I like learning, but in a casual I like to know things kinda way instead of a I study really hard every day way. I am really self sufficient, or at least I try to be, asking for help is kinda hard, which is why I try to do everything myself. One time I asked my friends to tell me which marvel characters I was like and the most mentioned were; doctor strange, Spidey and Wanda Maximoff. My friends say I’m cottagecore/princesscore, which I guess I might be because I like pretty dresses but I’m also that girl that likes to put on a lot of boy cosplays and absolutely loves punk rock / cyber punk fashion so I guess I don’t make sense.
I was a ballet dancer, I like learning languages too, it’s fun to understand and learn about different cultures of the world. I like movies and tv shows and reading. I just love stories I guess. I like fantasy (medieval stuff), sci-fi and horror (not horror movies but yes ghost paranormal stuff / hence I love supernatural). Huge fan of Peter Pan as well, not sure why that matters but yeah, it’s core personality trait I guess.
And I feel like I’m writing to much, I’m sorry. Anyway, congratulations for this mile stone, I’m sure there’ll be many more to come 💗
Hey lovely! This is actually @bealovesmarauders celebration. I’m still a loser compared to her! So this is amazing and I know she would love to write it for you!! So go ahead and send it on over to her 💕💕💕
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spoicedpepper · 1 year
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Hello this is my first official post! And to kick it off how about a poem!!!
.⋆。⋆☂˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
The void:
His eyes opened to a dark void
And although it took him a moment to adjust to his surroundings deep down he knew where he was
What was floating through a sea of darkness was now on solid ground, in silence
Not the uncomfortable deafening silence, but the calm stillness that you appreciate when your overwhelmed
As he walked further along little sparkles that he soon realized we're stars and a faint purple tint to the void started to become more and more noticeable
Then he abruptly stopped
There in the middle, was a woman standing there with a beautiful black dress and was wearing a ridiculously big sub hat with a veil that went around the hat
As she noticed him she smiled, eyes getting smaller as she did with a small yet comforting smile
Her attention completely shifted towards him
"Hello", she said with a loud voice that echoed throughout the sea of purple and stars
"H-hello?", He said back, tripping a little over his own words
"Glad you made it, I was thinking you'd gotten lost." She said in a light hearted tone
On his face was a look of confusion and bewilderment as he thought how did he get here?
"You don't need to be too confused, you're not in any trouble and you're exactly where you need to be right now." Nothing but kindness on her features
"Do you... do you know me?"
"Yes." She responded, a short and curt answer
"Why, why am I here?" He asked shaking what were now clammy hands
"I brought you here so you could make a choice. Well... one of three choices that is."
"Why- I'm sorry this is a bit insane is it not? I mean I don't know how I got here, I'm talking to a total stranger and the last thing I remember is standing on a small block in the middle of a vast, never ending ocean-!"
He was abruptly cut off as he saw the woman raise her hand up as s to let him know that he needed to slow down
"For a little guy you're brain sure does go a hundred miles per hour huh?"
"Y-yeah, I tend to do that a lot actually."
"And its caused you a lot of stress hasn't it?"
"Not, just stress, a little trouble as well actually"
She just kept looking at him, features never lacking warmth or kindness even in her neutral expression
"How about we get to the main reason I brought you here."
All of his attention was now on her, the giant mysterious woman in this beautiful purple void
"I want to give you three choices if you wish to hear them."
"Um, sure, sorry, please-! go ahead!" He let out in a hurry as if his lungs were to burst out of his chest and run away
But before the woman could speak he asked "how do you know me?"
The women's eyes went wide but then a smile crept onto her features
"You and I... have a mutual friend, he and I go way back actually."
His mouth making an 'o' shape as he got his answer
"Can I get back to my offers now?"
He quickly nodded his head before his brain could ram something else out of his mouth
"Alright well, right off the bat you do understand you're dead correct?"
The question was odd, but that was something he'd never forget, so he just nodded
"Ok, phew! Glad I don't have to explain that one! Anyways, I'm here to offer you to start a new in three different ways, and because of our mutual friend I will only do this for you just this once."
He couldn't say anything, as he just hung on to every single word and tensed every time she opened her mouth
"Your first choice will be to go back, to where you originally were in life, have your life back in the living world."
She paused and took a deep breath before she continued
"Your second choice is to start your life completely over, new memories new experiences all of that stuff."
"And my third option?" He asked
Her smile returning
"Your third option is to take one person with you to a new and better home, just one."
He stood in front of the woman pondering his options, he wanted to go back but was scared of the uncertainty, he didn't want to forget the good memories but also didn't want to remember the bad ones, he also didn't want to start entirely over-.That's when it hit him, his third and final option, take one person he cared about.
Before he could even process what he was going to say his body lurched forward as he blurted out...
"Michael!"
She looked at him surprised
" I choose Michael! I- I want the last option!"
He said chest heaving
"I- I just want my son."
She grinned, small yet somewhat noticable crows feet appearing at the corner of her eyes
"Of course, are you sure this is what you want?"
"Yes." He said with confidence
"I choose him, above everything else"
He was never meant to be of this world. His home, his family, was not of this world
He was created out of love.
Two beings gave him one of their lives, allowing him to be created and to be able to live in this place. After adolescence they placed him here, hoping he would be safe
However not being of this world created instabilities
These instabilities created the events which would lead to their death. The goddess of death took notice of their situation and gave him a choice
Return to his real family, return to his life and start a new, or save the most important thing to them even if they weren't to live in a place exactly like home, it would be sustainable
In the end he chose Michael.
He was able to find a source of food as for some reason potatoes seemed to grow very well in this place
Michael was around his own kind, in a place meant for him. Their new life doesn't come without challenges, but he is happy, but this is all I can give
I'll try to find ways to give closure and answer the unanswered, but for now rest easy, the one you love is safe
.⋆。⋆☂˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
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crystalninjaphoenix · 2 years
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MerMay 2022 Day Eight Pier Pressure
Marvin glanced over his shoulder. Behind him were miles of empty ocean floor, sloping downward too imperceptibly for his eyes to see. He froze. Everything out here was so big. There were reasons he didn’t like to leave his lake and rivers. But, sometimes, he had to, if only for a friend.
“Come on, bro!” Chase called, swimming ahead.
“Coming.” Marvin shook his head and hurried after him.
It was evening. The sun was setting on the ocean, turning its surface into fire. Chase had taken him to a human pier, the sort with lots of boats docked off the sides and many buildings for humans to walk around and buy stuff from. He’d shown up at the lake and said he had someone he wanted Marvin and Jameson to meet. Jameson had elected to stay behind, being a bit nervous about meeting new people, so Marvin had agreed to come so Chase didn’t feel like his trip upriver was a waste.
The two of them broke through the surface, heads poking out of the water. Marvin glanced at the boardwalk, seeing a few humans walking around. “Chase, you know I don’t do well with large groups of humans like this,” he said. “Where’s your friend?”
Chase was looking around. Not at the open water like Marvin expected, but along the line of boats. “He should be...there.” He swam over to a white boat, which floated low to the water. Marvin followed, curious.
As soon as they reached the white boat, Chase reached up and knocked on the side. Marvin jumped. “Are you crazy?!” he hissed.
“No no no, wait, this is who I want you to meet,” Chase said.
At that moment, a human appeared, leaning over the side of the boat. He looked a bit surprised, but smiled in a friendly way. “Oh, hey, it’s you again,” he said. “You have a different friend!” The human waved at Marvin. “Hi. I think you guys can understand me. I’m Ollie.”
Marvin said nothing. Instead, he slowly turned to look at Chase.
“What?” Chase asked.
“Chase, this is the last thing we need right now!” Marvin said, splashing Chase with water. “I thought with TridentCorp out there we’d want to avoid the attention of humans!”
“Hey!” Chase shook his head, sending droplets of water everywhere, and splashed Marvin back. “For your information, Ollie is cool. Me and Jackie have run into him a couple times now, and he hasn’t said anything about us.”
“That you know,” Marvin emphasized. “I thought you said humans have a—a world web of some kind that we can’t access!”
“World wide web, and it’s actually just called the Internet nowadays,” Chase said. “Look. I know it’s a risk. But we need more humans on our side than Stacy and her sister. Right now, all our allies are clumped up together in the same place, we need someone on the outside just in case.”
“Uh...” Ollie cleared his throat, drawing the merms’ attention. “I don’t really know what’s going on, but I get it if you don’t trust me. I can imagine how bad humans have been to you guys. But, uh, I’m good. I promise. I haven’t even told my girlfriend about you guys. So...are we cool?”
Chase looked at Marvin. After a moment, Marvin sighed, and made a ‘go ahead’ gesture. Chase’s expression lit up. He turned back to Ollie and said, “‘Are cool’,” in the same human language.
“Uh, what?” Marvin blinked. “Can’t you speak that language perfectly?”
“Well, yeah, but it’ll be weird if I just...suddenly start speaking fluent English,” Chase said.
“Oh, okay.” Marvin nodded understandingly.
“Hey, do you guys want some, like, French fries or something?” Ollie asked. “Uh, some food? I can get some pretty quickly.” Both merms shook their heads in unison. “Alright. But you can always ask.” Ollie’s expression suddenly shifted. “Um...so, I think I should tell you guys something. Recently, there’s been this weird...company—wait, I don’t know if you know what that means, uh...Nevermind, it’s not important. There are a bunch of humans going around and asking local boating companies like us to help join them in looking for some...‘unknown ocean creatures.’”
Immediately, Marvin and Chase stiffened, glancing at each other. Marvin nudged Chase, who nodded, and turned to ask Ollie, “‘Trident’?”
“Whoa, yeah!” Ollie’s eyes widened. “That’s part of their name! TridentCorp. They’re a big, like, science place or something, but I looked them up online and they also run aquariums and boat tours and stuff. They’re offering a lot of money for boats to help them out. And, uh,  all their talk about these ‘creatures’ was weird and vague and I was wondering if...well, if you guys know about them, then they’re probably looking for you, right?” He shook his head. “My boss wants to sign up with them, but I’m not too sure, but if he does then I’ll have to join if I want to keep my job...I don’t know.”
Chase gave Marvin a smug look. “Alright, alright, you’re right about having multiple humans,” Marvin admitted. “Hang on a second. I think I have something that can help.” Luckily, he’d brought some magical supplies with him that he thought might be useful in meeting a new friend of Chase’s. After rummaging in his bag for a bit, he pulled out a palm-sized bit of orange sea glass, worn smooth and circular. He held it up.
Ollie, confused, reached down and took it. “Okay. Cool. What is it?”
Marvin blanked for a moment, then turned to Chase. “Tell them it’s a communicator charm.”
“Oh, one of those!” Chase nodded. “Hey, you can’t tell him yourself? Your fancy magic is the reason I know English in the first place.” He shoved Marvin playfully.
“I can’t do it instantly, Chase, a spell like that would need time and materials to prepare—ugh, just tell them.”
Chase nodded, looking back up at Ollie. “Okay. ‘Hold in hand. Tight.’ Um...‘Think about us, talk...we hear.’” Marvin rolled his eyes at the way Chase refused to speak proper human.
“Ah. So it’s like...mermaid magic, or something. Got it.” Ollie looked at the charm in the fading sunlight. He smiled down at them. “Got it. I’ll let you guys know if anything happens with this company.”
Chase nodded. Marvin exhaled in relief. Then he paused. “Um...Chase, what are...‘Vrensh vriess’?”
“‘French fries’,” Chase corrected. He grinned. “They’re a snack. Wanna try them?”
Marvin paused. “I mean...I guess.” He tried not to look too curious.
“Oh, so you guys want to take me up on that offer after all.” Ollie laughed. “Alright. Stay tight, I’ll hop onto the pier and get some for you.”
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bisluthq · 2 years
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I’m not a Harry stan, I don’t actually like most of his music, I don’t find him that attractive, and I don’t get his sense of style. With that said, it’s disingenuous to compare him to Taylor in terms of political stands because he has actually taken plenty, despite appearing not to.
He’s very very firm on his environmental stance, he launched an entire brand based on environmentalism, the brand had a stand at Coachella that offered free manicures so I got one because YAY free stuff! And they told me the nail polishes are bio degradable. Do you know how HARD it is to make cosmetics, let alone nail polishes, bio degradable? We also know he’s pro choice. We know where he stood on Brexit, we’ve known he supports Labour since 2013, we know that he’s as close to a feminist as a white man can be, he supported BLM since 2018, and even admitted that it took him longer than it should’ve because he was scared of being a white savior. We’ve known all along he supports the LGBT community. He has also spoken positively about taxes, and even set up his companies in the UK, as opposed to using Delaware or Ireland which are tax paradises. And I know all of this while not being a fan, just because I have friends who are and who will on occasion put this stuff on my timeline on Twitter, I’m sure there’s a lot more things that fans who actually follow him closely will know that I have no idea of.
Meanwhile, I, a Swiftie, don’t know where Taylor stands on most of these subjects, or it took me far longer to know it because she used silence to her advantage. I don’t think she gives a rats ass about environmentalism considering she flies privately everywhere (and not just during the pandemic, which would be understandable). She even uses the planes to fly her cats… I don’t think she’s pro taxation. I assume she’s pro choice? Idk I can’t remember her ever addressing it. She was super lukewarm on BLM and only when everyone else was talking about it and she didn’t openly support the LGBT community until she was THIRTY. Like.
And this isn’t to paint fucking Harry Styles as a hero because I truly couldn’t give any less of a fuck about that man, but he’s been brought up, and I think there are miles and miles of distance here. Basically most celebs who have a rep for being liberal have at least been somewhat outspoken except Taylor.
I don’t agree on putting Joe on the same basket as her because Joe hasn’t taken so much space talking about his own victimhood. He barely talks at all, and he’s very new in the scene. Idk that I can be like “Joe is like Taylor” is he? Is he really?
Of course Leo is miles ahead of… most celebrities. Despite the issues I might have with his romantic life, he put his money where his mouth was for decades so to reduce his entire persona to what he does with his dick is kinda ridiculous especially considering he might be dating young but none of those girls were children. It’s weird but it’s not abusive. Just eyeroll.
I love Taylor with all my heart but can we stop acting like she doesn’t have Karen energy? She cares about issues as long as they pertain to her and hardly ever speaks about anything that won’t benefit her in the end. Doesn’t make her a bad person, she’s still obviously extremely nice, she’s clever, she’s talented, she’s beautiful, she makes bomb ass music. She doesn’t need to be perfect for us to like her anons give us all a break.
I wanted to argue with you just because anons got me all riled up but ya you’re 100% right so true.
I only have one tag for this.
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the-firebird69 · 11 days
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It's kind of our work it really is to expand on it you have the castle and it's broken up into palaces and you have several buildings inside that are ancillary and you can have them there with supplies like a locker for each and then you go outside and you have some smaller palaces and then you go out further and they're smaller and then you go further in their houses and that's what you're setting up would be communities like that around your leaders people go ahead and doing it and it's like a master plan for certain Castle systems and really they ran like areas back then
Hera
Zues
This is some crazy stuff. We're going to get going on it and a friend says that the trailer parks are on the outside of it after the apartments and campers are beyond that and that's terrific
Bja
That's true even okay I'm going back to the Fife to for real this is going to be interesting. I haven't seen this in a long time it's a feudal arrangement and it might be the max too late now
Thor Freya
The talking about the diameter of the community my husband says his only like 10 miles it was like five and the other guy doesn't have it it's just intermingle my husband says it'll be like 2,000 miles it won't be like that but it'll be big and mine too but they stick me in unfortunately it might be a gathering of real castles that they're in too and that's why I would be huge. It's kind of a weird thing. Those will be a giant community in the max probably wouldn't put theirs in there. It's going to be weird people thinking about it they want to make it big
It is a standoff in space and is fighting on the ground between the clones and the max and then our heavy towels to use on both sides it is turned into a war and it's getting bigger and bigger. The molar pushing out people who are pseudo empire all over the place and they're not thinking about it and they're getting pushed out here and that's the morlock are leaving
Some people heard it and it went to their areas and started working on the small ships and they understand it too
We have a few things going on here
-Max are coming in and they're spying and they're accusing my husband and stuff but they're encouraging him to do things and it's their problem that's what turns into. And I agree. But they don't and they continue to harass based on what they're having done they're used to doing it and I say that we should resist and call for a large resistance to it globally and he's right and but JC the Mansion might be a sign but they are going to try and force it which proves it it's kind of a letdown but it's not really his brother come back you know that's their plan we have a different plan though but still it's kind of horrific
-in a couple more things to mention he's having a lot of trouble with soreness and things like that I was wondering why and needs help with it and people are not helping a ton so we're requesting it
-few more things we have trouble here with the neighbors at the apartment they're being loud in boisterous at night and waking him up and he doesn't notice it and they're yelling and screaming outside at each other out back and out front and we need to get them both out
Hera
It's approaching the time to do that tax time is like a start and he's on criminal trial and starting that day and usually they isolate criminals for on trial because of the nature of the crime and the sun says that they pay people all the time because they're actually pursuing him is a very bad thing and he noticed it too it's like some sort of petty crime and they're making a federal case out of it and that's what that's what they say because what do I do I said you tell your people that they're making a federal case out of it on purpose and they're on trial too and stop asking me to Bear the weight threaten me and just do s*** and he's he's been brarng tons of weight on my husband to just do a damn thing. And that was Hera chiming in. But it's really really true there's a lot of weight on him from the guy and they need to leave and they won't they're going to be on trial by the Max and it's a big deal we are getting ready and we need to get everyone we can together and get all of our stuff armaments as we can and we're making it and we are taking it and we're going to do that now but this is coming up that's what April 15th means that's what the Stormy Daniels trial signifies and when they do it they try and get the person isolated and away from VIP and they're going to try and do it shortly it's the kickoff
Thor Freya
Olympus
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elliebartlets · 1 month
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veronica mars rewatch 1x03: meet john smith
• Duncan slowly putting the earbud back in his ear while his dad drones on about his future lol
• also I would not be able to swim in that pool ever again knowing my sister died there but hey to each their own
• referencing hilary duff lmao
• oh god I thought Veronica and Duncan were actually hooking up lol
• 🎶 A LONG TIME AGO WE USED TO BE FRIENDS 🎶
• will never not be over this theme song
• oh wait I remember this episode! This nerdy kid who works at the video store wants Veronica to find his dad but it turned out his dad transitioned and is now a woman. Like the woman who just went up to him and thanked him for the movie recommendation is actually his dad and he’s been visiting the store as an excuse to see him or something
• anyway remember video stores? they are a blip in my memory
• did Duncan mean to drop the pill down the drain?
• this Justin kid is reminding me of one of the brothers from Malcolm in the Middle but he’s not in that so I’m just guessing every teen white boy in early 00s tv shows looked like this lol
• wait the Kane’s got rid of their dog because she peed on the flower bed???
“It’s been 6 years when are you going to let this go?”
Uh what? If I were Duncan I’d be pissed.
• omg noo Justin thinks his dad is dead but is pretending he ran away so he can get close with Veronica…little does he know his shit’s gonna be rocked
• like imaging being like “I’m lying to get with a girl” only for it to end with “wait…my dad’s not dead??? and he’s a woman?!?”
• I’ve remembered 2 lines from this episode verbatim: the “Wallace is a friend of mine. Take that high school guidance counselor” and “the hero is the one who stays and the villain is the one who splits.”
• wouldn’t Keith expect Veronica to try and find out where her mom is staying??? Like she had her mom’s license plate, of course she’s gonna track her down.
• the dude playing Duncan is not a good actor
• ok i take (kinda) that back. the way he handed Logan back the flask and then went running and yelling to jump off the bleachers was kinda hilarious
• doesn’t Keith end up dating the guidance counselor?
• I mean this is pretty progressive for the time, having a transgender character on tv, but he’s still a shit dad for not maintaining a relationship with his son. I mean I would understand if Justin’s mom didn’t let his dad see him, but to me it seems like the dad transitioned and divorced the mom and then went on to live his life with someone else. Not great of the mom to tell her son his dad’s dead either. Neither of them are winning parents of the year.
• but also not me tearing up at Veronica’s “Ninety miles. It’s the distance your dad travels every week to see you for a few seconds” and how she’d do anything for her mom to do something like that
• I literally do not understand Veronica’s mom’s problem. like that woman being like “you’re all she cares about” ok then why has she abandoned her child for 8 months!!! i mean jesus christ the worst thing that happened was that she doesn’t have the same social status and income!! that’s when you stick it out not abandon your husband and especially not your teenage daughter!!! ugh it makes me so mad!!
• I’m sure there’s something I’m forgetting or missing but I don’t wanna know I like not knowing stuff it makes rewatching more interesting
• overall rating 8.5/10.
the transgender stuff was ahead of its time. the plot twist with the kid finding out his dad actually is alive. the moment with Veronica tearing up and asking “doesn’t she care about me?” when she goes to find her mom and she isn’t there. plus the Duncan hallucination/depression stuff was interesting.
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[Entry #1]
Hi Journal,
Is that how you start these things? "Hi Journal"? I haven't had a diary since I was probably twelve, and that's what this basically is, except I'm trying to be a little manlier about it. Except, you know. Butcher?
Anyway, given that Perry just told me my memories can't be trusted, I figured I'd pick up one of these things and a quill because I heard somewhere that writing things down helps with memory. I don't remember who, but it's for actual I didn't think it was important to remember reasons, not somebody put arcane locks on my brain reasons.
Before I get ahead of myself, lemme just give you the run-down of the team here, Journal.
First there's Trinity, who I feel is our leader? I dunno—I've never really seen a team with a bard leader, but she did run, like, twenty miles and somehow talked us all into doing a circus act once, so I'm not gonna question her. Not that I don't trust her. I close-to-trust her. Trinity's like a cross between Adelaide and Gale, I think. Like, she's a lot, I can tell, but she's good. Heart of gold, the sort of person you just want to do stuff for. In other words, I'm glad somebody's got the ability to round us all up and make us do things as one big unit, because I sure as hell can't. That was Gale's job.
Then there's Zaa, this artificer who . . . you know, I admit Zaa's not someone I know all too well. They don't say much. Or she? I think? I just realized I never asked, but either way, Zaa's not bad. I appreciate anyone who's down-to-earth and punches things hard. You're far less likely to get in trouble that way. But then again, from what I understand, you need to be smart to be an artificer with all your fingers accounted for, so I think that stands to reason that Zaa's got a good head on their (her?) shoulders. Also, they were part of a circus at one point? So that's neat.
Third's Perry, our resident wizard, and I admit I wasn't fair to him at first because I was just nearly flambed at sea by a dumbass wizard when I met him. (Long story.) The fact that one of Perry's hobbies was swan-diving off crows' nests did not help matters. (Probably shorter story but still not worth telling.) But last night, we had a bit of a heart-to-heart because he was the only one left to invite out for a drink (not as long of a story but still a tangent), and I realized that he's probably the one person in this party I could come the closest to fully trusting. I mean, he's still right; it's a bad idea to trust anyone fully, especially given my mission and all, but Perry's actually got a good head on his shoulders. And it's nice to know I can come to him and do something like let him read my mind, and the most he does is give me sage words of advice, not turn me in to our guild leader Sori or something. Turns out, he's just eccentric, not an idiot with a death wish. Maybe it's a wizard thing.
Fourth's Ophi, a monk who came from this peaceful-sounding monastery somewhere out in the country. Really did sound like a nice place to hang up one's hat after a long adventure. And it must've been nice to turn out someone like Ophi. Soft-spoken, little sisterly, never would've thought she could throw punches like that just by looking at her. In a lot of ways, she reminds me of Luka. I don't really get the feeling she's been traumatized by the sorts of things you see when you adventure for a long time, and I almost want to take her under my wing and protect her because of that, except that would be demeaning. Luka certainly hated it when I tried to do that. Anyway, she's been hanging out with the next member of our party a lot lately, and on the one hand, that means she's got someone looking out for her, but on the other . . .
Okay, so I admit I have no idea what the short one's name is. I'm pretty sure they told me at some point, but the first time around, they were all ghost-like and I was a little freaked out (long story again), and the second, my dead wizard friend was standing in front of me (another long story). I've been calling them Bob this entire time, because I feel like if they found out I'd called them something like "the short one," they'd deck me. Anyway, Bob's . . . a lot. Loud, impulsive, will absolutely mouth off to the fae if given the chance—I once watched them steal a bowl of candy directly from a shopkeeper who was beaming words into our heads. While they were watching. Perry's just graduated from Most Likely to Get Us All Killed with Antics because I'm pretty sure if anyone's gonna do it, it's Bob. This isn't to say I don't like Bob. I mean, to be fair, they have good opinions when it comes to whether or not we should trust the random being who openly admits to working for the fae. But the point is I don't know much about Bob, and what I do know involved terrible decisions.
(Which I realize Sori would say is rich coming from me, but hey.)
Tangents aside, that's about it for the fighting members of our little crew. Then there's the seventh member, Slippy, who's this weird little blob that we carry around for some reason. It's sentient and telepathic and incredibly excited to be alive, and honestly, I shouldn't be surprised by anything at this point.
Anyway, that's us. We're Slippy and the Landsharks. We beat up giant crabs, tentacle beasts, and robots for fun and profit. We also incidentally are collectors of these weird reality-warping artifacts, just incidentally.
This team is the best hope I've got, and I have no idea how to feel about this.
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chucklerjuergens · 4 years
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Ah math...,,. My Worst Enimie......
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fruitydiaz-archived · 3 years
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for the prompts: #70?
70 — “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”
buddie fluff!
from this prompt list
“Do you think you’ll ever find love again?”
They’re in Buck’s kitchen, Chris sitting on the couch catching the end of their movie, while Buck and Eddie wash and dry their dishes, when Buck blurts the question out suddenly. Eddie pauses mid-wiping down a plate, and raises his eyebrow, turning slowly to give Buck an amused look.
“That’s a question,” He says after a moment. Buck flushes a little and rolls his eyes.
They’d been talking about a call they had this morning. It was one of those old married couples that always hit Buck right in the gut. He had sat to the side on the curb with the wife, while they carried her husband to the ambulance, and listened to her tell him their love story.
He didn’t even try to hide his tears as he climbed back into the truck with the rest of the team.
“I’m sure I will. I’m not interested in looking for it right now, though,” Eddie says, smiling over at Buck. “I’ve got everything I need right here, you know?”
Buck turns to look over at Christopher, smiling at the look of his face, transfixed on the movie.
“Yeah, I know,” Buck nods, turning off the sink and grabbing an extra towel to help Eddie dry.
“It just — don’t you get lonely sometimes? It’s been so long since I lived with somebody else. Sometimes I just think...it’d be nice to have someone to come home to.”
Buck’s starting to think maybe he shouldn’t have gone ahead and had that extra beer. He’s not sure what’s gotten him thinking like this. He and Taylor decided they were better as friends a long time ago — and since Eddie had broken up with Ana around the same time — they just filled the space for each other. He hasn’t really felt lonely in a while. He doesn’t really want someone else to be here...he wants Eddie to stay.
Eddie looks at him for a moment before he grabs the last plate from his hand and puts it away. He sighs and leans against the counter, reaching for his beer.
“You could always move in with me. Then you can come home to us,” Eddie says, like a joke. Except it’s not; he’s mentioned moving in to Buck at least a dozen times over the last couple of months, since they both got out of relationships and started spending almost every non-working moment in each other’s homes. Buck never seems to think he’s serious though.
“Right,” Buck chuckles, ducking his head. When he looks back up at Eddie, he’s a little shyer and quieter. It’s the look he gets when he starts to doubt himself, and it always makes Eddie want to reach out and shake some sense into him.
“It’s just different I guess. I want to come home to someone who loves me.”
That hits Eddie like a punch.
His body tenses up and he feels a wave of emotions building up in his chest. He’s hurt, for one, and angry.
“Buck,” He starts, running a hand over his face. He crosses his arms and sets his bottle back against the edge of the counter, glancing out the window. The city lights calm him a little bit.
“Why do you think I keep asking you to move in?” He asks eventually, his voice soft. Buck tilts his head to the side and shrugs.
“To save money?”
Eddie looks at him, unimpressed. It makes Buck shrink in on himself a bit.
“You don’t think it’s maybe because I want you there?” Buck blinks at him.
“Eddie…”
“No, listen to me, Buck. I don’t think — I don’t think you understand.”
Eddie looks down again and brings a hand up to his face, pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose as he thinks. His head’s spinning a little bit — not drunk, just overwhelmed and dizzy — because of Buck. Because of all of these feelings he has about Buck that have been building up inside of him for years. Because it’s getting harder for him to pretend that he just wants to be friends with him.
These last months have been nice, the way they’ve slid perfectly into the empty spaces in each other’s lives. But any time they have a conversation like this, Eddie feels that fear spike up in him, the fear that he’s about to lose one of the best things that have ever happened to him. Sometimes he thinks he should just tell him, just rip the band-aid off and finally expose the softest, most vulnerable part of himself that he’s been guarding all these years. He knows Buck would never leave him — especially not over the fact that Eddie loves him. But things would change, they’d have to. And that’s the part that holds him back most of the time.
But tonight feels different. He knows Buck wants this as much as he does — he has to. But Buck will never be the one to make the first move, because he’s weighed down by his past: by the abandonment, the neglect, the fear that he’s too much for anyone to stick around for.
Eddie’s not sure how he doesn’t get it at this point.
“After everything we've gone through together, you still don’t think I love you?”
“I know you love me, Eddie—“
“No, Buck,” Eddie says again, and his voice is worn and exasperated. “No, you don’t. I love you. Christopher and I are here with you almost every night we have available. You keep the cereal we like stocked in your pantry just in case we’re here for breakfast. I keep those weird vegan protein bars you like. You have a drawer in my room with sweatpants and t-shirts and a spare uniform just in case. I broke up with Ana and haven’t even thought about another person in months because...I don’t want anyone else.”
Buck swallows hard.
“I don’t understand…”
“I’m in love with you, Evan.”
“...Eddie...”
“I mean it. And you don’t — you don’t have to say anything back or...or try to let me down gently, or whatever. I just...I need you to know. You always say you’re alone and that no one ever really wants you. I need you to know you’re wrong.”
Neither of them says anything for a moment, and Eddie busies himself with his beer, trying desperately not to let the panic take over him, trying desperately not to feel like he has to pack up his stuff and grab Christopher and get out of there immediately. He’ll give Buck space if he needs it, but only if he asks.
God, he hopes he doesn’t ask.
“I love you, too,” Buck says eventually, quietly. Eddie looks up at him. “I’ve just...I really like you, you know? This thing we have with each other. It’s special...and it’s different. And I’ve always known that, so I just...I never wanted to risk losing it. I’m so used to people I love leaving, Eddie.”
“I’m never leaving you,” Eddie says instantly, confidently. Buck stares at him wide-eyed, before the softest smile Eddie’s ever seen spreads on his face.
“I know.”
Eddie’s pretty sure that they should kiss, pretty sure that that’s the thing that they’re supposed to do next, but he can’t move. He’s fixed to his spot against the counter and Buck seems fixed to his spot in front of the sink, because all they can do is stare at each other, grinning like two fools in love — because that’s what they are, aren’t they?
Eventually, Christopher’s movie ends, and he calls out for Buck and Eddie.
“Dad, Buck, can we watch another one?” He calls, a hint of mischief in his voice. He knows he’s usually only allowed one movie and then he and Eddie have to head home after dinner. Buck grins.
“How about I pack a bag and we head back to yours and we can start another one there. Maybe I can even...stay a couple of days?”
“You moving in already?” Eddie teases and Buck rolls his eyes.
“Well, you’ve only been begging me to for months now.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sure. Go pack a bag and I’ll get Chris ready.”
Buck nods and then turns to run up the stairs to grab his bag — but he stops. He turns around and looks at Eddie, a small smile on his lips and a glint in his eyes, cheeks a little red.
“Um,” He mumbles, taking two large steps to close the gap between them and ducking to the side. He leans in quickly and presses a shy kiss to Eddie’s cheek and then steps away.
Eddie stares at him, a little stunned. He’s never known Buck to be shy with physical affection, especially not with someone he likes, but it’s endearing and sweet and breaking Eddie’s brain a little with the realization that they’re actually doing it. They’re crossing this line.
Buck spins around and disappears up the stairs into his loft before Eddie can say anything, leaving his mind speeding a thousand miles a second into the future, imagining all of their future kisses, their future dinners, Buck moving in officially, no longer having to travel 20 minutes to see each other, no longer spending the night alone in his bed wishing Buck was there with him, waking up to his face in the morning, kissing him goodnight.
Maybe they’ll even get married. Eddie would like that. He’s pretty sure Buck would too.
Not that he’s in any kind of rush.
He’s got everything he could ever want right here, right now.
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meichenxi · 3 years
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tldr; autistic parents are fantastic and fuck you if you think otherwise, signed, a disaster queer adhd daughter
So on the back of a lot of negative stuff I've been coming across recently I wanted to take a moment and talk about my dad. He is autistic and chronically ill, and has been unable to hold a job down since I was eight or nine. He only ever responds with brutal, crushing honesty when I ask him how he is (and as he's chronically ill, the answers are rarely fun); he doesn't have any close relationships with any other adults and is so afraid of crowds he sprints through them leaving the children to run after him as best they can; he very rarely told me I was doing well and never seemed to understand my point of view, much less my mother's; he would never talk about anything other than bloody knitting, rocks or conservation, he could eat approximately 0.5 foods but also had no job to buy anything better; he frequently goes around naked because 'it feels nice' causing me to SCREAM -
He's my favourite person in the entire world.
Growing up, there were so many things he taught me. His special interests were geology, nature conservation, wildlife gardening, taiji, mythology and knitting. When we were kids, we went out for long walks for miles and miles in the drizzling British countryside - when I was young, my brother and mum would lag behind and me and my dad would skip ahead, jumping over the rocks, and he'd tell with great excitement why THAT twisty line of quartz was actually less exciting that this outcrop here; he'd teach me about the Salmon of Wisdom and the folk that live over the sea and never grow old, and impress on me with utter seriousness how I must never tell a stranger my name unless they tell me theirs first; he'd sit down with me and draw patterns for a jumper he was thinking of in the mud with a stick, and then we'd have a sword fight. I never understood half of the things he told me, but listened with wonder, because he was my dad, and he knew everything.
When I was a little older, we made up stories that lasted for hours, and memorised poetry together from Lord of the Rings (because THERE our interests collided with galactic force) and he'd do all of the voices just perfectly. We went one whole summer just quoting LOTR to each other, and it was our little secret: Mum might hear 'Yes,' but only I would hear what came after: 'Yes,' said Frodo, or 'Yes!' cried Boromir. And when I told him my story about a woman who lived in a volcano he listened quietly and told me that that wasn't how volcanoes worked, but that he could help me write it better.
Everybody's autism is different. For my dad, it rendered him completely incapable to work and was paralysing in social situations, but when it was just me and him, he told the most wonderful stories. I wanted to be a geologist just listening to his voice, and then a writer, and then finally someone who understood the land like he did and the sea.
And he made me feel normal. He made me feel heard. With my mum, as much as I loved her, I would get vague noises of assent as she struggled to look after everybody in this damn house, or irritable 'Would you just be quiet for ONE second?' I was a talented kid, and everybody praised me at pretty much everything: but the only person who would consider anything I wrote like it was an adult's writing, with seriousness and criticism, was my dad. He didn't tell me I did well often. Instead he would take my picture, or my writing, and look at it with great seriousness, and ask me WHY the Queen was so intent on kidnapping beautiful princesses in the first place. I could trust him to tell me whether I did something well or not, because he never, never lied. Not to please me, and not to please anyone. It cost him his marriage and his job, but it was a rock of stability in my life : my mother was volatile, frequently furious enough to resort to violence, and she lied and laughed and told us what we wanted to hear, but he was always reliable. If he was angry, we knew.
When I spoke for hours about my languages, he listened, nodded, and then spoke about his plants. It was a perfect give and take because I didn't expect him to care about my languages, and he never expected me to care about his plants. We just cared about the other.
And when I didn't make any friends and couldn't interact with the other children without despair he was always there with a silent offer of a bike ride, or catch in the park. He was always the fittest person I knew, despite his illness. He had lots of grand ideas - once he climbed the tree outside our house and tried to rig up a platform fifteen metres above the ground. After three days he was inconsolable. He wouldn't speak, he just sat there. But a few days later he started drawing up plans and attacked it again, and this time it worked.
My dad is great for a lot of reasons, and difficult for a lot of reasons too. Some of these are just him - but some are specifically related to his autism, and I think it's important that we talk about that too, especially in the context of parenthood. Because we see a lot of positivity about young autistic adults and kids, but older adults are just as valuable and just as in need of support and recognition, particularly because they may have gone through so much. My dad was made to stand in a bucket of urine for three days as a kid to 'pull himself together'. Spoilers: it didn't work.
And I'm not autistic myself, but many of my ADHD behaviours are so much easier around him because he just. gets it. If I don't like a certain food because of the texture, he never buys it again - I don't need to explain myself. We leave all social events early, which is wonderful because he is very stressed and I am either so high on adrenaline I'm in danger of injuring myself or exhausted to the point of not being able to talk. We run through crowds together because he hates crowds and I like the chance to stretch my legs. We don't touch or keep in contact very much, because neither of us see the point or like small talk, and I'm terrible at messaging anyone, but I know (and he knows) as soon as we need each other we're there. We do handstands on the beach together and he points out plants on the way back along with their Latin names. He never bothers me about talking to my friends or stopping clowning and watching my stupid shows or spending ten hours a day on Chinese or Tolkien. He never mocks me for needing space and time after anything. We lie on the concrete together because it's so damned warm and nice and adgshhhhh. We spend hours playing taiji and doing push hands in the kitchen, and our 'love language', if you will, is him trying to throw me to the ground. We both get 100% of our emotional intelligence from books, and in any arguments can use this to great effect. I talk at him for an hour, and then he talks at me for an hour. I know so much about fucking willow trees.
So people who say that autistic parents are cold and incapable of care? My dad was the most sincere, honest and helpful parent a child could have ever asked for. Things were difficult, but it helped me understand that parents too have needs, and that adults are all just grown up kids trying their best. I didn't know why he was different as a kid, and I didn't much care - I just wanted to be a geologist like my daddy.
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3 for bakugo or todoroki
I decided to do Bakugo for this, & then I got this ask after I closed the prompts for this event so I decided to go ahead and do it because it’s actually one of only two Halloween-related ones and I was planning to make this Werewolf!Bakugo anyway lol. This is a fun little AU that just kinda swaps quirks for supernatural creatures, loosely based off of a bunch of campy halloween stuff like Halloweentown and Sabrina The Teenage Witch. Also, the werewolves have destined mates like those dumb Wattpad novels, because sometimes tropes are fun and cute. Also this is THREE TIMES AS LONG AS I MEANT TO MAKE ALL OF THESE but ive also gotten like five??? individual asks for it 😭😭😭so y’all better not let it flop.
3: kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s
Though you’ve known Bakugo pretty much your whole life, there’s a lot about werewolves that you don’t know.
If he were a different person, he probably wouldn’t be telling you at 5:47 on his 21st birthday that he’s apparently supposed to figure out who his soulmate is going to be tonight. If he weren’t so closed off, even to his best friend of over a decade and a half, then perhaps you wouldn’t be having this conversation, and perhaps it wouldn’t feel quite like pulling teeth.
“You have a soulmate?” is really all you can say, because most of your mental capacity is going towards keeping the sob in the back of your throat from being audible.
“Yeah,” he grunts. He’s not even looking at you, because he’s holding his phone in one hand and he’s scrolling through it, and though the two of you are sitting on opposite sides of the couch he has your feet in his lap, free arm wrapped all the way around them like he doesn’t want you to leave. “It’s… I dunno. Kinda cool, I guess.”
“All of you have soulmates?”
“Well, yeah. You witches don’t?”
You wrinkle your nose, trying your hardest to ignore the burning at the backs of your eyes. “No. We don’t.”
Out of the corner of your eye you see him purse his lips, as if troubled by the revelation. “Huh. How d’you know who’s the one, then?”
“We just. Figure it out? I guess. Is this why you’ve never dated anyone?”
“Yeah. Not really interested in anyone but my destined.”
He says it so easily, but you know him well enough to understand. He likes the idea of a soulmate; he’s looking forward to figuring out who they are tonight. Who would have guessed that he was a romantic?
It’s awful. It makes your chest burn. You’d only come to terms with your crush on the guy two months ago. Now he’s gonna be taken from you by some random person he’s never met?
No, you suppose, he’s always belonged to them. That’s how it works, right?
“D’you know who it’ll be?”
“Hah? No, dumbass, if I did that would defeat the purpose.” Bakugo pauses, glancing over at you with just his eyes, then darting them away just as fast. It’s probably just a trick of the light, but you could swear he blushes a little as he mumbles, “I know who I want it to be, though.”
Your eyes widen and you lean up, pulling your legs back (ignoring the way his hands tense before letting them go as if he wants to hold on) so that you can kneel on them right next to him. “Who?”
“Not happening.”
“Bakugo,” you whine, drawing out the last syllable of his name.
“I’m not telling you, brat.”
You lean forward, prodding at his cheek. “Is it Mina?”
“No.”
“Jirou?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Kirishima?”
Bakugo growls out your name, a warning, but you don’t pull away, getting even closer until you’re practically draped over him.
“Todoroki?”
He grabs you, whipping towards you as his arms fly up to wrap around your waist and yank you off him, tossing you back to your side of the couch as you shriek in laughter. He’d never hurt you, you know, and roughhousing like this is hardly new in your friendship; plus, well, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been hoping to feel his big, warm hands like this. Despite all his surprises tonight, he’s still all too predictable, and you’d seen this coming a mile away.
What you don’t see coming is him pausing, braced with one arm against the couch all too close to you, holding his torso over you with his head right above yours. And he stares, those crimson eyes unreadable with an expression you’ve never seen before, locked entirely on you.
You can feel his chest rising and falling steadily against yours, and your own eyes are drawn to where his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. You’re frozen, unable to move though you’d hardly want to anyway, and it hits you like a brick what he’s really been saying the whole night.
You open your mouth to speak, but then the hazy tension is shattered by the shrill sound of his phone.
Bakugo lunges away, pulls back with inhuman werewolf speed, grabbing his phone as he leaps to his feet. “‘S my mom, sundown’s soon, I have to go.”
“Wait, Bakugo—”
“See ya tomorrow, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, already half out the door.
“Katsuki,” you try, desperate, and it makes him freeze.
The door is open, his knuckles are pale with how tight he’s gripping the knob, but as much as you’ve tried it’s not enough. He’s gone without another word.
You don’t get to sleep that night.
It’s dumb; he’ll lecture you in the morning as he tells you all about his perfect amazing werewolf destined—that was what he’d called it, right? You prefer soulmate. Mate is a wolf thing anyway—who he’s spending all night with, running around in the forest howling at the moon and making out or whatever.
You stay out in the den, curled up on the couch with a blanket draped around you, ice cream in your lap, and an old movie playing that you’re not really listening to because you’ve been too wrapped up in your own head.
For an instant, you’d been so sure. A mere moment of absolute certainty that he was just as in love with you as you are him, that your oblivious pining for years was actually reciprocated. In the hours since he’d pinned you to the couch, you’d convinced yourself otherwise.
Imagine your surprise when there’s a frantic knocking at your door.
It startles you, making you jump about ten feet up in the air, and you freeze on the couch with wide eyes and a gaping mouth staring directly at the solid wood that seems to be shaking in its hinges. You’re halfway to casting a protection charm when a familiar gruff voice shouts your name from outside.
“I know you’re awake, I can hear you in there! Open the damn door!”
You glance at the time to find that it’s just under fifteen minutes to midnight. Awfully soon for him to be done, but you rise from your spot on the couch with the blanket still wrapped around your shoulders and move to let Bakugo in.
“Coming,” you say, not bothering to be loud because you know he can hear even the shifting of your clothes beneath the blanket.
He looks downright feral when you open the door, panting slightly, hair mussed up, eyes wild. But when he sees you, they light up, happy and excited like a damn puppy.
“Are you drunk?”
“Uh… kinda?”
“...Magical bullshit?”
He nods, a rough toss of his head to affirm. “Ancient rituals. Tipsy’s more accurate, if anything. Figured out who my destined is.”
“And you came to me? Shouldn’t you be with your soulmate, then?”
Bakugo blinks, clearly stunned, barking out a burst of laughter before shaking his head. “You’re somethin’ dumbass.”
You go to respond, more than a little insulted because he’s been acting so fucking weird all day and he has the nerve to say you’re being dumb, but any retort is flung from your mind as he steps forward and puts his hands on your arms.
Leaning in until your noses are practically touching, he speaks. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”
“H—huh?” you stutter out, heart stopping and mind reeling with his words.
“I wanted it to be you. And it’s you.” His hands slide down your arms to meet yours. “You’re my destined.”
There’s so much more to say, so much to ask him, everything ranging from but I’m a witch, how is that possible to so we could have been fucking dating this whole time but he doesn’t let you speak, clearly too overjoyed and inebriated, and you’re not entirely opposed when he yanks you in with exactly the level of roughness you’d imagine from him and kisses you.
And finally, finally, after a decade and a half of wanting to (longer than you even knew what kissing was), you can melt into him.
You believe him then, not that you particularly doubted. It’s like his lips are the missing piece to a puzzle, one you’ve been looking for your whole life. He holds you up with ease, werewolf strength coming in handy, as one hand laces with your own and the other darts to the small of your back. He’d be holding you closer, but you’re literally as close as you could be, body curving against him as his taller form hunches over you.
He kisses you far more sweetly than you’d have expected; no teeth or tongue but still all passion, heavy palm and fingers splayed across your back as the other hand pulls you and grounds you. It’s heated and it makes you forget that you’re both standing in the middle of the open front door at midnight.
You’re both reluctant to break away, you can tell because you both linger a little, bodies frozen as the kiss is followed by one, two, three more just as feverish but decreasing in length. Then the two of you pull away for real (not by much, no, he’s holding you far too intensely for you to get far) and you stumble backwards pulling him by his shirt into your home. He gets the hint, following and shutting the door behind you but not letting either of you make it very far beyond.
“All right,” you say finally, breathless both from the kiss and from giddy laughter bubbling up within you, “all right, you’re my soulmate.”
Bakugo kisses you again.
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Text
Folklore [song series]
my tears ricochet
Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader
Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years
[warnings: death, and funeral]
word count: 4829
[a/n: sorry for such a long wait. I've been busy. I thought once I was done for the semester I would have a lot more time to work on my stories, but if anything my summer break has been more hectic. Just because I haven't been posting, doesn't mean I haven't been working on them. Just know that I am working on the new chapters for this and for TKWBA, just need a bit of patience from you all. Also thank-you for the continue love and support on all my work]
Series Masterlist
Tag list info here [if you want to be tagged please read this]
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Age: 21
Year: Sep. 2015
Location: Brooklyn, NY & Stanford, CA
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Elizabeth was sat at her desk doing her homework. She was anxiously waiting for Steve's call about the baby arriving. He had called her two hours prior to let her know that Natasha had gone into labor, and they were at the hospital. Steve told her that he'd call her as soon as he heard the news. She tried her hardest to focus on her homework, but she found herself constantly checking her phone for any updates.
Suddenly her phone started going off. She instantly picked it up and answered the call.
"Is the baby here?" She immediately asked.
"Liz," Steve choked out.
"Steve, what's wrong?" She could hear the distress in his voice.
"Natasha, she," he tried to say but the words got caught in his throat, and she could hear the soft cries.
"Steve, breathe," she tries to calm him down the best she could without actually physically being with him.
Elizabeth was simultaneously trying to keep herself calm, and not rush into any assumptions.
"She died," he said after calming himself down enough to tell her what happened.
"She died?"
"I guess there were complications, he tells her, still unsure of what exactly happened.
Steve hadn't thought to ask further into what exactly happened when Bucky's mom called to tell him the devastating news. He couldn't wrap his head around what she was telling him. He just never imagined that this would be the outcome of his best friend welcoming his first child into the world.
Steve clears his throat trying to force the lump back down.
"I'm catching the next flight out to New York," he tells Elizabeth, "I just gotta be there for Bucky."
"Yeah, of course," she says, completely understanding.
"I know you can't exactly fly out now, without letting your professors know, so as soon as I find out all the funeral," his throat catches at the word, he takes a small breath, "all the funeral information I'll let you know."
"Okay that works," she agrees.
"Okay. I haven't to pack real quick and get to the airport within the next hour," he tells her.
"Okay, I'll let you go."
"Wait, Steve," she calls out before he could hang up.
"Yeah?"
"I love you," she says with a shaky voice.
"I love you too, so much," he says, "I'll text you when I board the plane."
After one final goodbye, Steve hangs up the phone.
The flight seemed like Steve's longest one he's ever been on. As soon as he landed he quickly grabbed his carry on, the only thing aside from his backpack that he brought with him. Elizabeth had messaged him letting him know that she could bring more of his stuff once she flies out.
Steve made his way out of the airport to find his mom waiting for him by her car. He quickly made his way towards her and wrapping his arms around her.
On the drive to Bucky's apartment Steve sent Liz a text letting her know he landed. He then called Bucky's mom to let her know he was on the way.
"Thank-you for coming out Steve," Winnie thanks him, "The baby is just about to get discharged, we should be at the apartment before you get there."
"Of course, I'll see you guys soon," he says hanging up the phone.
Steve then sends a quick email to his boss and professors explains his absence and why he'll most likely be gone for a couple of weeks.
An hour later Steve's mom was stopping outside of Bucky's building.
"Let them know I'm here if they need anything," his mom tells him before he exists the car, "I'll come back at noon with lunch for everyone."
"Thanks Mom," he says leaning over to kiss her cheek.
Steve exists the car leaving his bags with his mom. He takes one final breath before walking to the front doors. Steve presses the call button for Bucky's apartment and was immediately buzzed in.
As soon as he reaches Bucky's door, he knocks quietly. The door opens and he's welcomed by Rebecca. He takes in the sullen face on the teenage girl.
"Hey Bec," he says.
"Hi," she quietly says, as they hug each other in the door way.
When they pull apart she steps aside letting him inside.
"It's just my parents and I here. Bucky didn't want to deal with a lot of people right now," she explains to Steve.
"Steve," he hears from his left, Keith, Bucky's stepdad makes his way out of the small kitchenette over to him, and embracing him, "Thank-you so much for coming. We know you're a very busy person."
Before Steve could respond Bucky's mom Winnie walks into the living room.
"Oh Steve," she immediately wraps her arms around him.
"Thank-you so much for coming on such a short notice," she says. Steve could hear the shakiness in her voice. He could tell she was trying to keep it together. No doubt the last 12 hours being the most stressful and emotional she's ever been.
"There's no need to thank me. This is where I need to be," he tells them.
"Let us at least pay you back for the flight," Keith says.
"No, don't worry about that," Steve waves him off, "I had a lot of miles that needed to be used."
"Well, thank-you again," Keith nods his head, understanding where Steve was coming from.
"You can go on ahead Steve. Bucky is waiting for you in the nursery," Winnie tells him, giving him an assuring nod, he nods back making his way towards the nursery.
The short walk seemed like it was much longer. Steve has never felt so nervous in his life. When he approaches the closed door, he softly knocks on it.
"Come in," Bucky calls from inside.
Steve walks in, closing the door behind him. He's immediately greeted by Bucky sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, feeding his newborn daughter.
"Hey," Steve softly says, not sure what to say.
"Hey," Bucky greeted Steve with a sad smile.
It had been 12 hours later and it still didn't feel real to Bucky. The hospital had even offered the chance for him and Poppy to stay a couple of days, but all Bucky wanted to do was to go home and get away from the hospital. But now being back in the apartment without Natasha was surreal. He was trying his best to keep it all in, at least while the baby is awake and needs him.
He was determined in being the one that cared for her, even when his mom offered to take care of her for a few hours while he gets some rest. He assured her that he needed to do this. He had to do it alone, because he knew that soon enough it would just be him and Poppy.
Bucky was very grateful when he heard Steve was flying out. He felt like Steve was the only one he could really talk to about everything going on.
Steve was still standing by the door, just watching his best friend be a dad for the first time. He had no idea what to say in this kind of situation. The words were caught in his throat the moment he actually saw Bucky.
"Thanks for coming," Bucky says breaking the silence. Steve immediately looks away from the baby to meet Bucky's eyes.
"You would've done the same thing," Steve says, "And like I've said before, I'll always be here for you."
"I don't care how far, I'll always be on that first flight to you," Steve continues, he glances down at the now sleepy baby, "You're my brother Buck."
There was a moment of silence between the young men. Both understanding what the other one means with such few words.
Steve watched as Bucky gently placed the sleepy baby on his shoulder to burp her.
"It suits you," Steve quietly remarks.
"What?" Bucky looked up at him confused.
"Fatherhood, it suits you," Steve says again, stepping closer to his friend.
"You think?" Bucky looks back down at the now sleeping baby.
"Yeah. I know it's only been less than a day, but you look natural. Make it look easy."
"Thanks," Bucky smiled, getting up for the he chair and walking over to the crib to gently place Poppy in.
Steve walked over, standing next to Bucky, watching the little one sleep peacefully.
"What's her name?" Steve whispered, realizing that he hadn't found out what the name of the baby was.
"Poppy James Barnes," Bucky proudly says.
"That's cute," Steve commented, he placed his right hand on Bucky's left shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
Bucky looked over at Steve and they both nodded their heads in agreement, before falling into an embrace.
"I am so sorry," Steve quietly says.
"It happened so quick, she barely even got to see the baby," Bucky quietly cried into Steve's shoulder, "I never even thought of this would be the outcome. I never imagined I'd be coming home solo with the baby."
Steve tightened his embrace on Bucky, just listening to his friend.
"I don't know how I'm going to do this Steve. I don't know how I'm going to raise her without her mom. I'm trying to keep it together to not worry my mom, but fuck Steve, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm scared I'll screw this all up. I'm scared I'll screw her up.
"I'm so scared Steve," Bucky cries.
"It's okay to be scared," Steve tries his best to comfort Bucky, "I'd be more concerned if you weren't scared. This is entirely new territory for you. You're raising a child, a child who unfortunately no longer has her mother. That alone is a fucking terrifying thing to go through.
"It's not going to be easy. There's no point in lying to you, and saying it will. You and I both that won't be the truth. But if there's anyone I know who could do this, it's you Buck. You're the strongest person I know. Whatever has happened before this doesn't matter. The only thing that matters now is that little girl. And I know damn well you're going to give her the best life she will ever have," Steve pulls away from Bucky and holds onto his shoulders.
"And you're not alone in this. You have a lot of people who care about you, and now Poppy. You will never be alone. You'll always have someone to call, someone to help you. You're crazy to think we would ever leave you to do this alone. We're here, and we're not going anywhere. You and Poppy will never have to be alone. She might not have her mom, but she's got you, and I know damn well you won't ever let her wonder what being without one parent truly feels like.
"You've got this Buck," Steve assures him, "And we're here every step of the way."
"Thanks Steve," Bucky sniffles, wiping the tears away.
"No need to thank me," Steve smiles, "Now why don't you go take a nap. Get some rest. We're here if Poppy wakes up."
"Yeah I could use some sleep," Bucky yawns, his adrenaline from the last 12 hours fading away.
Steve walks Bucky to his bedroom and watches as he gets into his bed, and quickly falls asleep. He quietly closes the door behind him, with the baby monitor in one hand checking to make sure Poppy is still asleep.
He walks back into the living room, placing the monitor by the tv for everyone to see and hear.
"They're both asleep," Steve announces to the room.
"Oh thank goodness," Winnie sighs, "James hasn't taken a moment to rest since everything happened."
"Knowing Bucky, we'll probably have to be forcing him to rest for the next couple of weeks," Steve says.
"I just got off of the phone with Natasha's father," Keith said walking back inside the apartment.
"What did he say?" Winnie asked.
"He said that the funeral is all up to us," Keith sighs, "Something about how Natasha made her own path with getting pregnant, and that once she left she was no longer his responsibility."
"He really said that?" Winnie asked mortified.
"I'm afraid so," Keith sighed, "I tried reasoning with him saying we would handle everything financially and he can come to the funeral but he said no."
"What kind of father doesn't show up to his own daughter's funeral," Winnie shakes her head in complete disbelief.
"Explains why Natasha was the way she was," Rebecca whispered, so that only Steve could hear her.
He reluctantly agrees.
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Two weeks later
Elizabeth was helping Steve with his tie in his childhood bedroom. She had flown in yesterday for today's funeral services. Elizabeth had gotten in late last night, so she still hasn't seen Bucky or Poppy yet. She was a let to get a week off of work and her professors gave her an extension on her assignments when she explained to them what happened.
"I still can't believe Natasha's dad isn't going," she says as she straightens out Steve's tie.
"Bucky's mom is still holding out hope that he shows up," Steve says.
"What does Bucky think of it all?" Elizabeth asks.
"He's not worrying about it," Steve explains, looking over himself in the mirror, "His only concern right now is Poppy and only Poppy. If Nat's dad shows up then he does. But as of now Bucky has made the decision that he will not be in Poppy's life. Not until he proves himself."
"That's very mature," she says grabbing her purse.
"This Buck is like a whole new one you've never seen before. Fatherhood has made him a thousand times more grown up these last couple of weeks."
"That's good."
"Ready to go?" Steve asked her, grabbing the keys to his mom's car.
"Yup," Elizabeth says following Steve out.
Bucky had asked Steve to pick him and Poppy up, and Steve had of course agreed.
They arrived to Bucky's apartment in fifteen minutes. Walking up to Bucky's door they could hear a lot of commotion coming from inside. Steve used the key Bucky gave him to let himself and Elizabeth in.
As soon as they walked in they were greeted by the sounds of a baby crying.
"Buck?" Steve called out.
"We're in here," he calls from the nursery.
They go to the nursery to find Bucky looking frazzled while trying to change Poppy's diaper.
"I'm so sorry. I'm running so behind," Bucky tells them, glancing over his shoulder quickly,
"Poppy didn't sleep well last night. And nothing I've tried has been working."
"It's okay Buck, just take your time," Steve calmly says.
"I still need to shower, shave, and get dressed," Bucky rambles, "She's going to need another change of clothes because she spat all over herself, and my mom only bought this one outfit for today."
"Hey Bucky, calm down," Elizabeth calmly spoke up, placing her hand on his back, "Take a breath."
Bucky felt the warmth and comfort from Liz's touch. He listens to what she says and takes a deep breath.
"Okay good," she says, "now you go get ready. Steve and I got this."
"Okay," he nods his head, handing the baby over to Elizabeth, "thank-you."
"Of course," she softly smiles at him, "now go get ready."
Bucky quickly makes his way out of the room and into his own to get ready.
Elizabeth looks down at the small baby in her arms. She could see so much of Bucky in the baby with hints of Natasha. It was a little strange for her to be holding Bucky's baby and it not being her baby as well. Not that she ever wanted to get back together with Bucky, because she didn't. There was just a little voice in her head, that of her teenage self, saying how it was supposed to be them, doing this together.
She quickly shut the voice down.
Elizabeth was incredibly sympathetic of Bucky's situation. All she wanted to do was be there for him, as a friend. She wanted Bucky to succeed as a father, and she would do what she could to make that happen.
Steve silently watched Elizabeth watching Poppy. He couldn't really read her expression. He hates to admit it to himself, especially with everything going on, but he was slightly worried about how Liz would react to all of this. He had faith in their relationship, of course he trusted her immensely. But he still couldn't help but feel like she might decide to leave him for Bucky. Elizabeth turned around to see Steve looking at her with a distant look in his eyes.
"You good?" She gently asked, breaking him from his self-destructive thoughts.
"Yeah. You?"
"Yeah," she nods her head, handing the baby over to him, "I'm going to try and find her a new outfit.
"Okay," Steve says sitting down with the baby.
"I love you," Liz quietly says to Steve, knowing what could possibly going through his mind, if hers was also wandering.
"I love you," Steve replies back, finding himself relaxing at just hearing those three words, any doubt slipping away.
30 minutes later Bucky was ready to go. He walked out to the living room where he found Steve and Elizabeth sitting with each other holding the baby. He paused for a moment taking in the scene in front of him. He felt a sense of warmth and low flow through him as his closest friends admire his daughter. In that moment he knew he had made the right decision in what he would tell them next.
Steve glanced up to see Bucky leaning against the frame of the hallway.
"Ready?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, but I actually wanted to ask you two something before we go," Bucky says walking over and sitting on a chair next to the couch.
"Sure, what's up?" Steve leans forward, leaning on his knees, giving Bucky his full attention.
Elizabeth tears her eyes away from Poppy to also give Bucky her full attention. She smiles at him, letting him know he could continue on.
"I first and foremost just want to thank you Steve, for what probably is the hundredth time," Bucky says, "I know you have a lot going on with work and school. So I really appreciate everything you've done for me and for Poppy. And you too Elizabeth, I know you're incredibly busy especially with law school prep. And with everything that's happened between-"
"Don't," she stopped him, "What's past is past."
"Well anyways, thank-you," Bucky says, "Now here comes what I wanted to ask you two. There's no other two people I wouldn't trust more with Poppy. So I wanted to ask if you would be her godparents?"
"Really?" Elizabeth asked taken back by Bucky's request.
"Yes," he nods his head, "There's no one else I wouldn't trust with her if anything happens. It'll help me sleep better knowing she'll have two people who'll love her like I would. Two people who have so much love between them, that I know will always be together."
Both Steve and Elizabeth were taken back by Bucky's last statement. They knew Bucky had accepted their relationship, but to actually have him not only say it out loud but to practically give them his blessing, it meant the world to the couple.
Steve and Elizabeth both share a look with tears glistening in their eyes. Elizabeth nods her head.
Steve turns back to Bucky, "We'd be honored to be Poppy's godparents."
Elizabeth and Steve stood up to hug Bucky. All filled with a wide range of emotions. Bucky felt a huge sense of comfort after asking Liz and Steve to be Poppy's godparents. He knew he made the right decision, and he knew he could now sleep better at night knowing his daughter would be taken care of. And by two people he knows can love her the way he does.
After what happened with Natasha, Bucky just wanted to make sure Poppy would be taken care of. If she couldn't have her parents, then she would have the closest thing to having parents. And Bucky knows Steve and Elizabeth would be amazing parents.
That alone allowed him to be at peace for whatever may happen.
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Arriving to the funeral location Bucky felt his nerves start to spike. He sat in the backseat looking out the window at the familiar faces walking into the chapel.
"You okay?" Elizabeth asked turning in her seat, after Steve parked the car.
"I don't know if I can do this," he mutters, glancing towards the sleeping baby in the car seat next to him.
"We'll be right next to you along the entire way," Liz calmly says.
"If you feel too overwhelmed we'll leave whenever you want," Steve tells him, "We won't stay if you absolutely can't handle it. No one will hold it against you."
"Okay," Bucky takes a deep breath.
"Stay here, I'll get the stroller out," Steve says, getting out of the car.
"No one is expecting you to be brave, Buck," Elizabeth says, "You're allowed to be vulnerable. You're allowed to show emotions."
He nods his head, taking in what she's telling him.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small necklace. Clutching onto it as if his life depended on it.
Elizabeth catches the small 'N' on it, realizing that that was the necklace Natasha wore everyday since she was 13.
Bucky takes one final deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.
"Okay, I'm ready," he tells her.
"Okay, let's do this."
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Bucky was grateful that they arrived only minutes before the service started. Everyone was already seated in the pews.
He slowly walked down the aisle pushing the stroller, Steve and Elizabeth walking right behind him.
Bucky tried his best to avoid any eye contact with everyone. He couldn't bare to look at the pity in their eyes.
He caught sight of his family siting in the second row. He also noticed a man sitting alone in the first row.
He instantly knew who it was.
Once Bucky reached the first row, the man made to movement to greet Bucky.
Bucky cleared his throat, "Mr. Romanoff."
The older man looked over at Bucky, then at the stroller.
"James," he stiffly said, turning his attention back to the front.
Bucky awkwardly sat down placing the stroller next to his legs, away from Natasha's father, while Steve and Elizabeth sat next to Bucky.
The service was going smoothly up until the priest announced that Natasha's father would be making a speech, catching everyone off guard.
Bucky looked at the older man as he walked up to the stand. He turned around to face his mom, "Did you know this?" he whispered.
"No I didn't," she shook her head.
Right as Mr. Romanoff was about to start speaking, Poppy began to cry. Bucky quickly went to get her out of the stroller, while Steve quickly went to grab a bottle to help him out.
As soon as the baby calmed down Mr. Romanoff began to speak.
"First and foremost, I want to thank everyone for coming," he begins, "I really appreciate it. Natasha would be eternally grateful for all of you."
Bucky started to get annoyed by the beginning of Mr. Romanoff's speech. As if the man didn't turn down the invitation for the last two weeks. Now he's trying to act like the perfect father, as if he didn't kick her out and cut off his pregnant daughter.
"Natasha was a kind hearted person. Only wanting the best for those closest to her. She was the most selfless person you would have ever met," he continued on with his speech.
Elizabeth couldn't help but be confused by Mr. Romanoff's speech. She hated thinking ill of the dead, but that man had no idea who his daughter truly was.
"Natasha was so smart, earning her way into Yale. She was only months away from graduating. I was so incredibly proud of her. If only we would've gotten the opportunity to watch her walk across the stage.
"Other than leaving an everlasting impression on all of us, she also left behind a part of her. Her last moments on Earth was spent bringing in another Romanoff," he says.
Bucky's head snapped up to Mr. Romanoff, then towards Steve.
"Romanoff?" Bucky whispered, "This man has the fucking nerve."
"Ignore him," Steve whispered back, trying to calm Bucky down, "He's just saying all of this to make himself look good."
"Natasha brought her daughter into the world," Mr. Romanoff continued, forcing fake tears to fall, "I remember being by her side as she was in labor."
Bucky clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to call Mr. Romanoff out on his lies.
"As she was dying," Mr. Romanoff paused for dramatic effect, "Her only request was to name her daughter after her."
Steve paled his hand on Bucky's shoulder, trying his best to calm him down. It was too late, Bucky was already placing Poppy in Steve's arms.
"What a fucking lie," Bucky stood up shouting at Mr. Romanoff, causing everyone to gasp.
"James," Mr. Romanoff said through gritted teeth, as a warning.
"How could you just lie to all these people?" Bucky shouted, "How could you lie as if you didn't disown Natasha months prior when she told you she was pregnant. Or when my parents kept inviting you to the funeral, you kept saying no and how Natasha's decisions led to their death. How dare you say you were in the delivery room. As if you didn't have her number blocked.  My mom and I were there when things took a horrible turn. We were there when the doctor walked out and told us Natasha didn't make it. Not you! Us!
"Then you go on to make some shitty story about Nat's last words. Which is completely false. Natasha never wanted to name the baby after herself, you'd actually know that if you were actually present in her life. But you weren't. And you sure as hell will never be a part of your granddaughter's life."
Bucky turned to Steve and Liz, "Let's go."
They nodded their heads and helped put Poppy in the stroller. They followed Bucky as he walked out of the chapel.
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After leaving the funeral services, Steve was able to calm Bucky down. Winnie had called Elizabeth to let her know that the burial services the next day were officially going to be private. Liz agreed that that'd be best for everyone involved. Especially with what happened during the funeral services.
The burial service was only attended by Bucky, and his family, along with Elizabeth and Steve.
Everything went along smoothly. Everyone giving Bucky the safe space to grieve.
After the burial, everyone gave Bucky a few moments alone at the grave site so he can say his final goodbyes.
"Hey Nat," he pauses taking a deep breath, "these last two weeks haven't been the easiest. But boy have they been amazing. I may be more exhausted than I've ever been, but boy is she worth it.
"She may only be two weeks but I can already tell she's going to be the most amazing person ever," he softly cries, "You would've loved her so much. But like I promised back at the hospital, she'll never not know who her mother was. I will always make sure she knows who you were. Always."
"Goodbye Natasha," he whispered, before walking away to join his family waiting.
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Age: 26
Location: Brooklyn, NY
Year: 2020
"Daddy, what's this?" Poppy calls out to her father from his bedroom.
"What's what petal?" He asked walking into the room, finding her surrounded by boxes, as they prep for their move uptown.
"This," she holds up the small necklace with the 'N'.
Bucky kept that necklace in a small box in his nightstand. He kept it at the bottom of his nightstand for safe keepings. Planning on one day to give it to his daughter. He always planned to wait until she was 16, but he figures now is as good as ever.
"That was your mommy Natasha's," he said walking over to her, and sitting next to her on his bed, "She got it when she was 13, and wore it every day up until when she died."
"It's pretty," she says admiring it in her hands.
"It is isn't it," he smiles at his little girl, "It's now yours."
He grabs the necklace from her little hands. He unclasps it, then gently moves her dirty blonde hair to the side. He places the necklace around her neck, and clasps it shut.
"Thank-you daddy," she smiles brightly at her father, admiring the necklace that now lay on her chest.
Bucky smiled at his daughter, watching as she kept admiring the necklace. It was a little big on her, but he knew she would grow into it.
"Anything for you baby," he kisses the top of her head, "Anything."
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itsamejin · 4 years
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goodbye || yoongi angst
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Part 2
Summary: Yoongi watched silently as you exited the car and out of his life, but he can’t help but feel a sense of panic at the thought of you leaving him for good.
Warning: cursing, fighting (verbal)
Genre: angst
Premise: Yoongi drives off without you after a heated argument and now you’re gone.
Commission Request: @queenoftheuniverseandmyroom​
Word Count: 3,434 words
Yoongi doesn’t quite remember when this heated conversation started or how it really ended either. He just recalls how furious you were leaving the restaurant you two had reserved weeks before for your anniversary and how he was left to clean up the mess. Wine was spilled onto the white table sheets and he had to pay the waiter extra for leaving in such a hurry. 
Now here he was, driving silently with you sulking in the passenger seat. Even as he sat in the car, hands on the steering wheel, he couldn’t help but feel like you were the one driving with how closely you kept your eyes on the road. You glared at the view in front of you, paying him no attention. His throat itched to say something, anything to break this uncomfortable silence.
“Are you gonna stop being mad at me now?” he asks, annoyed with the little puffs of breathing you would make just to spite him. “Did you get it all out of your system yet?”
You had shouted in the restaurant, loud enough for the other patrons to hear and tense up at the sound of your voice. When the waiter had come to calm you down, you had stomped out of the restaurant. 
He was sure the conversation started on the topic of you possibly adopting a new pet, but it somehow morphed into a whole debate about his bad habit of staying cooped up in his studio until the break of dawn. You wanted him to spend more time with you and he wanted you to be more understanding. It was the same old argument you two had, rehashed into a different day. 
“Well you’re still being an asshole,” you start, rolling your eyes, “so I don’t want to fucking talk to you until you apologize.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. It always seemed to be his fault in situations like this and you always had to pout like a child to make him feel bad. He was getting sick of this- of trying to constantly figure out what you wanted from him. It’s like you two would try to communicate like all those other stable couples, but the wrong words would spill from your mouths each time. 
“We didn’t even get to eat,” he mutters under his breath, slightly hoping that you would hear him just to piss you off even more. If you wanted to be grumpy the whole way through then he too could play that game.
“You’re such a dick you know that?” you sigh, shaking your head at his words.
“How could I not when that was all you were screaming about,” Yoongi replies as he rolls his eyes. He yielded at a stop sign, making sure to still abide by the law even though he was fuming with frustration. “You made a fucking scene and embarrassed the hell out of us.”
You scoffed. From what you remember, he was the one trying to escalate the argument when you calmly tried to convince him of getting a dog. It was a rescue- a St. Bernard that would make a mess from time to time, but you were fine with taking care of it by yourself. He had said no so quickly and a little too disdained that you switched the conversation to something more light-hearted. You asked him a day when he wouldn’t be too busy to go on a date and somehow that had pissed him off even more. To you, it felt like he hated the sight of you lately.
“I ask you for something simple. ‘Hey Yoongi, we haven’t seen each other in a while. Maybe we should go out more?’ But, no! You say the same fucking thing about focusing on your music like you haven’t been doing that for almost a decade. You’d think after three years of dating I’d be more of a priority by now...”
Yoongi grits his teeth. That’s not what he said back there and that’s clearly not what he meant either. He was frustrated that you changed the topic when clearly you two weren’t done discussing about the dog yet. He didn’t want to suddenly walk home one day and find some mutt lying on the apartment floor without his permission. You guilt-tripping him to go on a date with you so quickly after you demanded for a dog didn’t sit well with him either.
“It’s my job, you can’t ask me to just forget about my job just so we can go on dates with each other,” he sighs, attempting to calm his nerves by squeezing the steering wheel a bit tighter. “You know how sensitive I am about my work.”
You scoff in response.
“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll always be the second choice. I know that by now Yoongi.”
Yoongi bit his lip and shook his head.
“You’re putting words in my mouth,” he says, exasperated. “I would never pin you and my work against each other-”
“And if you had to?” you ask menacingly. “If I fucking asked you right now if you would choose me over your music, what would you say?”
Yoongi sighs deeply. This was not the direction he wanted this conversation to go in and this was not the direction he was supposed to be taking the car either. He glares at the GPS as it reroutes, avoiding eye contact with you simultaneously. 
“You know how fucking self-centered that question is,” he replies, venom laced in his voice. It felt like this conversation always comes back every few months, your words grating in the back of his mind until the next outburst would pop up. “I’m not gonna fucking answer. You know I’d actually really appreciate it if you would just get to the point and stop being a bitch.”
You scoff at him. There he goes again. When he was left speechless, he’d resort to calling you names and giving excuses. It didn't matter to you what the outcome would be, but you wanted to see this argument until the end.
“Yoongi, what is the point really?” you snide, crossing your arms over your chest as if forming a shield around you. “Is it how I said I wanted a dog because I was getting lonely at the apartment?”
Yoongi rolls his eyes.
“You can get the fucking dog, I don’t care about the fucking dog [Y/N]-”
“Or is it how you ignored my calls when I had the flu so you can go drinking with your friends?”
“[Y/N] I literally apologized for that months ago, why the fuck-”
“Oh my god and how dare I ask for time with my boyfriend when I haven’t seen him properly in months, especially on our anniversary day!”
“You’re really pissing me off-”
“Or,” you raise your voice slightly, shifting in your seat as Yoongi slowed the pace of the car. “Was it when you accidentally called me while you were talking to Hoseok?”
Bingo.
Yoongi screeched the car to a stop. Your shared apartment was still miles away but he had stopped at a suburban block of townhouses to face you. His hands were shaking and he glared into the side of your head, beckoning for you to return his gaze. You refused, keeping the seat belt tightly against your chest as you stared at the night sky ahead of you.
“I said that when I was drunk,” he said slowly, intimidating you just a tad bit. “I thought we already went over this.”
You pursed your lips and shook your head, tears threatening to spill over your already puffy eyes.
“You can’t keep fucking saying ‘I apologized’ or ‘we went over this’ and expect me not to still feel hurt,” you say through trembling lips. “It doesn’t make me feel any better.”
Yoongi adjusted himself on the driver’s seat so that he was facing you.
“Is that why you’ve been mad at me?” he asked seriously. “It’s not because of the dog?”
You sighed out of frustration, throwing your hands in the air.
“It was never about me wanting a fucking dog, Yoongi!” you scream. 
“Hoseok, can I tell you something?” you hear through a call from Yoongi that seemed more like a butt-dial the more you listened to his drunken voice. You kept trying to get a response from him, but it seemed like he was talking to someone else.
“Dude, you're fucking wasted,” you could hear the sound of his group-mate’s chuckle on the other side.
“No, like seriously,” Yoongi whined. “It’s about [Y/N].”
“Girl troubles?”
“Nah, she’s just being dumb lately,” you heard him mutter. A tiny part of you had felt hurt, but then again you two had argued a bit before he drank. You would complain about him similarly to your own friends, so you couldn’t really judge him for talking shit about you.
“What did you do this time?”
“It’s not me this time, bro,” he said through his laughter.
“Really? Then what the hell did she do?”
“That’s the thing,” Yoongi said, slurring his speech to the point that you could barely understand him. “She hasn’t done anything and I still fucking find her annoying.”
Now that one hurt. It was no secret that Yoongi and you were going through a rough patch in your relationship, but to hear him talk about it in so much detail with his friend made you nauseated. It was an extremely uncalled-for insult and you weren’t sure if the tears that streamed down your face fully conveyed the ache in your chest.
“Relax, bro,” Hoseok says reassuringly. “Don’t say anything you’re gonna end up regretting later.”
“No, but seriously,” Yoongi protested. “Her voice is so fucking irritating lately and, like, I’m not even sure if I really like her anymore, you know?”
You could feel your heart crumble at the spot. No matter how bad an argument got, statements like that always went too far. How was Yoongi able to spit it out so easily?
“Okay man, we need you to sober up,” Hoseok sighed. “You sound dumb as hell right now.”
“Hoseok, I want to break up with her so fucking bad,” Yoongi sighed through the phone. “But like it’s been so long I feel like I should just wait it out and see if she wants to end things first.”
You could hear something drop from the other line.
“And now you’re on the fucking floor,” you hear Hoseok mutter. “Dude I think you butt-dialed someone. Oh shit-”
You took the phone away from your ear, not wanting to hear Hoseok apologize for stuff your stupid boyfriend said. You hung up the phone and wiped away your tears. Yoongi didn’t love you and you didn’t know what hurt more- the fact that he could say it while intoxicated or that he didn’t have the guts to tell you sober.
“Whatever I said that night wasn't me,” he said, trying to get you to face him. “You know that. I said it when I was mad at you and mad at myself and I will never say it again. I swear.”
You refused to even take a glimpse at him, grabbing your purse from the car floor and clutching it to your torso.
“I love you [Y/N],” he pleads. “I said that shit because I needed to get it out of my system. Please, at least... just look at me.”
You shake your head as you wipe away a tear from your eye.
“I don’t want to look at you,” you whisper solemnly. “All I fucking asked for was some time together and you think I’m ruining your career.”
He closes his eyes out of frustration. By now he thought you’d know the consequences of dating an idol.
“Because our relationship will ruin my career [Y/N], what aren’t you getting?” he replies. “The more dates I go out with you, the more people that watch us- the more people that criticize what we have.”
“Would that be so bad?” you say, finally staring up at him, but avoiding eye-contact. His heart clenched at the sight of you in pain. “Would it hurt you so much that we’re seen together?”
He shook his head.
“You’re twisting my words, I never said that,” he sighs.
“If you want to say you’re ashamed of me then-”
“That’s not what I’m fucking saying!” Yoongi screams, grabbing onto your shoulders to face him fully. “This isn’t just about us. I’ll be affecting the lives of so many people in my company, but I choose to still be with you despite the consequences because I love you-”
You detach yourself from his reach as your cries get louder. It hurt to hear him speak.
“This isn’t love anymore Yoongi,” you whimper, your purse falling onto the floor as you tried to breathe through the sobs. “You said it yourself, you’re annoyed with my fucking voice.”
“I didn’t mean it,” he says softly, stroking your cheek as you looked down at your lap. “You know I love you. I tell you all the time.”
You pushed his hand away from your face and looked up at him in anger.
“Do you, Yoongi? When was the last time you showed that to me?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. Why do you keep asking these questions.
“I’m making enough money to support us. I buy you gifts all the time,” he replies. Yoongi feels that he must’ve said something wrong as you verbally cringed at his words. “I’m literally paying for the fucking apartment we live in right now. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t be doing all this for you to live a comfortable life!”
You scoff at his words. Clearly he thinks money solved all the issues in your relationship and that you should feel thankful for him being so “considerate”. You were sick with his reasoning, not really convinced that he even knew what you two were fighting about.
“Well how about this: I can’t fucking get a pet without asking for your permission; I can’t go out with you unless I wear something that conceals my identity; I can’t even fucking tell my friends or family that I’m in a relationship!” you scream as your sobs get louder and louder. “And I can’t even get you to spend some time with me without begging for your attention.”
His own tears had started to fall, staining the velvet seats of his car. You had looked so furious at the restaurant, but before him you were so very vulnerable. He can’t help but feel like he had broken you somehow. He realized then that he went too far- that maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut and let you air out your grievances.
“I’ll do better, I promise I will,” he says softly in an attempt to comfort you, patting your hair gently. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”
You bring your hands to your eyes, crying into them as Yoongi tried to console you. It wasn’t working and you weren’t even sure if anything he could say would cheer you up at this point. 
“I don’t even know you anymore, Yoongi,” you say between sobs.
“Yes you do,” he replies, albeit a bit aggressively. “Stop saying shit like that. You know me better than I know myself.”
You shake your head as you clicked out of the confines of the seat belt which suffocated you, but not as much as his touch was.
“We should have never gotten together,” you say harshly. “If dating you was just gonna end in me hating myself I would have much rather not known you existed.”
He blinked back from the harshness of your words. Where was this coming from?
“You don’t mean that,” he says softly. “I know you don’t mean that.”
You pursed your lips. He was making it so hard for you to leave and like always, he found a way to get you back into his arms with little difficulty. You always listened to him, always at his beck and call. It was tiring being in a relationship with you being the one at his mercy.
“I can’t do this anymore, Yoongi,” you say, pushing him away as you reach your hand out to open the door to the passenger car. “I can’t spend the rest of my life feeling like I’m not good enough to be with you.”
He holds onto your wrist before you do so. 
“Just calm down,” he croaks. “Please.”
You shrug his arm off.
“I don’t want to,” you sob. “Just let me end this. Isn’t that what you wanted? For me to leave first so that you wouldn't have to feel like the shitty one in the end?”
An uncomfortable silence formed between you as your words echoed in his ear. No matter how many times he apologizes, it seems like you weren’t willing to forgive him.
“If you leave, I’m not coming to get you,” he seethes. “If you leave, that’s you telling me you’re giving up on us.”
The first time that night, you looked directly into his chocolate eyes and with a new sense of determination, you opened the door.
“Goodbye, Yoongi,” you say, exiting the car finally and walking away from his sight. 
He didn’t even notice how you had hesitated, how you secretly wished for him to beg for you to stay- that he would finally learn his lesson and apologize the right way. Without excuses and without pinning the blame on you.
Instead, Yoongi opted to punch his steering wheel and let out a groan as the pain in his fist formed. Were relationships supposed to be this hard? Was he supposed to fight for you every time you tried to walk out of his life? He didn't know anymore. If you wanted to come back then you would, it shouldn’t always be up to him.
Yoongi made it home safely, parking in front of your shared apartment, looking from his car window to see if the lights were on. 
They weren’t. 
Yoongi heaved out a deep sigh and rubbed his forehead. You weren't home yet and it was the dead of the night. ‘You know what, whatever,’ he thought to himself, ‘it’s none of my business anymore.’
He had assumed you got a taxi ride back home, but obviously he was proven wrong when he walked into the dark apartment, cool from the lack of heating. He went through each room and you weren’t anywhere in sight. He sighed. Was this really it? Did your relationship just end because he wouldn't let you get that stupid dog?
He could hear you crying out to him that it wasn’t about the dog- that it was him who ruined the relationship. Yoongi ignored that voice in his head, in fear of guilt taking over his body.
Yoongi tried to quell his solemn thoughts with a few cans of beer on the lonely living room couch, but nothing really numbed the pain enough for him to stop visualizing your tear stained face. It was the way you looked at him so sadly, so full of disappointment. He used to be able to tell why you were sad, pinpoint the exact reasons, but now he wasn’t sure anymore. He opened the fridge, greeted by the anniversary cake you had baked for him just the night before. He cringed at the sight of it as it made him feel even more regretful with how the night’s events unfolded. 
Yoongi didn’t take the cake out and closed the fridge door. He didn’t know why it took a well made cake for him to realize that it was fucking stupid to let you walk out by yourself all alone. He moved to grab his cellphone to hopefully apologize and end the argument, but alas no answer. He tried several times again and nothing. He grabbed the car keys from the kitchen counter and raced downstairs to his parked car. As he was about to start the engine, Yoongi saw from the corner of his eye that your phone was on the passenger seat. 
It was fully drained of battery and the purse you were clutching so tightly just earlier was on the car floor. Immediately, panic had overcome his body and he banged his head on the steering wheel for how careless he had acted. You were missing and in a part of town that neither of you were familiar with. He groaned out of frustration, no longer angry at you but with himself.
“Why the fuck did I let her go?”
A/N: Finally getting around to finishing my commissions. Sorry for the delay @queenoftheuniverseandmyroom​ , but hopefully you like this first part! Thank you so much for your patience and for requesting something that I was really interested writing about. You are a *star*. I hate writing about arguments because they make me sad but I love the angst that comes with the aftermath LOL. Who do you side with more? Was Y/N too stubborn or was Yoongi too insensitive? Let me know!
PS. Currently working on it’s you part 2. I’m really busy with personal life stuff so please be patient with me. I love y'all <3
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browniefox · 3 years
Text
Color Theory
@wrightfamilyweek Day 2 - Investigation/Hijinks
In which an anniversary is coming up, so Trucy makes some plans.
You can also find this on AO3 right here :)
“Have fun at work, Daddy!”
Trucy runs up to Daddy and hugs him around the stomach. He kisses the top of his head.
“Mmhm, I expect your homework to be done and you to be in bed by the time I get home, alright? No exceptions!"
“Of course!”
“And no trips to Germany, alright? I’m sure you can hold off for another few months.” Daddy teases. Trucy sticks his tongue out at him and he ruffles her hair before going out the door. In a few months, she is going to actually get to go with Daddy on one of his trips to see Miles, a reconnection between the two of them since Trucy's own little trip a year ago.
As the door closes, Trucy runs over to the window and waits until she sees Daddy riding down the street on his bike, officially out of the building. Her homework is already done, most of it finished during class time and the rest of it finished up during recess and on her way home from school. Walking while writing had made her numbers come out a little odd, but it didn’t matter, because now she had hours and hours of time to work.
She stops by the fridge, staring up at the calendar. It’s four weeks away from the date circled in red, and two weeks from the date that sits ominously empty. It’s plenty of time, though.
Trucy makes a lap around the office, double-checking that the windows are locked just like Daddy does every time before leaving. Everything seems safe and sound, so she grabs her backpack and leaves, making sure she has the spare key and locking the door behind her. Daddy won’t be home until late, but she’s still going to make care to be home with plenty of time to spare. The meer idea of putting him through the same fear of last year sits in her chest like a promise.
It’s a few bus-stops to get to Gummy and Maggey’s house. They’re both out at the moment, so Trucy finds the spare key in the fake rock and lets herself in. She’s spent a lot of time over here by now, and the couple has spent alot of time over at the office, the big and towering man she’d met at the airport transforming into a familiar and lovable family friend.
She skips over to the closet, pulling out the supplies stuck in there. Streamers and confetti, magic wands and fake flowers, tumbling out from where Gummy had helped her shove them in last time. She looks down at the supplies and begins organizing it into the different acts that they’re associated with. There’s a lot of pieces, a lot to get over to the Wonder Bar eventually. Keeping so much of it over here makes it harder to practice back at home, but that’s kind of the point, even if it’s really annoying.
Gummy and Maggie came home after an hour, setting their things down and chatting about their day while Gummy starts dinner. The smell fills the house, warm and comforting. Trucy likes the Gumshoe house. It’s not too big, but not too small either. Gummy and Maggey used to clean it up before she came over, but they’ve stopped making that special little change for her, and so she gets to see it all lived in, a sock strewn here, a few dishes left out, pillows lying wherever they were last placed. Small things that make the place not a house but a home. She’s never had a home like this one, and oh there are sometimes where she’ll be lying on the couch and imagine what it would be like to stay here.
She knows she could.
Daddy has made it clear that if she ever felt dissatisfied with the cramped office, with him, all she has to do was say something. Gummy and Maggey have mentioned, before, that they’d be willing to take her in if anything ever happened to Daddy. Gummy had laughed about all the sorts of injuries Daddy tended to accrue, recounting a story about Daddy getting amnesia before a case - Trucy knew that one, she’d read it a bit ago.
Trucy doesn’t want to leave the cramped little office.
After dinner, Trucy uses Gummy’s phone. Gummy and Maggey know how to set up her stuff for a performance by now - they’ve already agreed to be her stage crew for the performance. While they’re doing that, Trucy calls up Aunty Maya.
“How’s my favorite magician doing?” Maya answers, and Trucy can hear the smile in her voice.
“Working on her next trick.” Trucy replies. Maya makes a humming sound.
“Well, things are going well on our end over here. Are you sure about the color? You don’t want to go darker?” Maya asked.
“Nope! It’s, well, there’s a reason for the shade.” Trucy says. She can hear Maya hum in understanding over the receiver.
“Well, I’m almost finished with it, although I’ll probably come up soon just to make sure everything is right. Pearly says hi, by the way.”
“Oh! Is she there?! Is she there?! Hi Pearls!” Trucy shouts over the phone and gets a distant and soft ‘hi Trucy!’.
“When I come down I’ll bring Pearly with me, don’t worry. If I didn’t,she might just run the whole way over there anyway!” Maya laughs and Trucy laughs along.
“If everything’s working out, then I’m gonna have to go. I need to make sure the rest of the show is ready to go!” Trucy says.
“Alright, alright, just say you’re afraid I’m going to start prattling on about the new season of Rubber Samurai. But you know there-”
“Love you Aunty Maya bye!” Trucy hits the end call button still chuckling to herself. She hopes that Aunty Maya makes true on her promise to come back down and to bring Pearls before the big day, but if she doesn’t then Trucy guesses she can wait that long, even if it’ll be agonizing.
She stares at the next number for a long long while before finally hitting the call button.
The phone rings once, twice, three times before he picks up.
“Gumshoe, this had better be fucking import-”
“Hi, Miles!” Trucy chirps. There’s silence on the other end.
“... who is this?” Miles grumbles.
“Trucy Wright!”
“Trucy?!” Miles sounds a little more awake now.
“Yup!”
“Ms. Trucy… why are you calling me at… three in the morning?” Miles groans.
“Th… three in the… OH!” Trucy gasps, feeling her face flush in embarrassment. She’d completely forgotten to take into account time differences. “Oh my god, Miles, I’m so sorry, it’s pretty late here and-”
“It’s, it’s fine Ms. Trucy. Just tell me what you were calling about… from Gumshoe’s phone? Is your father alright?” Worry creeps into Miles voice.
“Oh, yes, Daddy’s fine! Daddy’s just at work right now, and I went over to Gummy and Maggey’s! We had spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, and then we’re gonna play a card game, and then Gummy is gonna drive me back to the office ‘cause it’s all dark now!” Trucy says.
“Ms. Trucy, I don’t mean to sound rude, but again, it is three a.m. here…” Miles sighs.
“Right! Right, um… Mr. Edgeworth, do you think you could help me with a little something.”
“I’m going to need a bit more information than that.”
Trucy rattles off her little plan into the phone. Miles stays silent for the entire explanation, only grunting here and there to assure her that he is still awake and listening on the other end.
“... this is very short notice.” Miles says.
“Oh,” Says Trucy, looking down at her feet, “Well, that’s okay, I’m sure together, the rest of us-”
“I never said I wouldn’t do it, just that next time you’re planning something like This, please, tell me about it a little more ahead of time.”
“Okay! Yeah! Next time! And this time… you can do it?” She double checks.
“Yes, you can count on me, Ms. Trucy.”
“Thank you! Um, I’ll let you get back to sleep, thank you!”
Trucy skips back into the kitchen, where Gummy and Maggey have set up a board game. She still has her show to practice a bit more, and even now thinking about it she’s a little nervous, but she’s found she’s more excited. It’s coming together.
oOo
“Please, Daddy, please, come and see my show tonight? Pleaseeeee?”
Phoenix lets out a long sigh. Trucy is bouncing around in excitement in front of him. She’s already done her stage makeup, and he’d helped her put little weaving braids into her hair. Most of it will be covered up by her hat, but there are usually moments during the performance where the hat comes off, and so she needs to look amazing no matter what’s going on. Phoenix is fine to help her with this, but on today of all days, all he wants to do is sit in his office, read through old case files, and mourn what he has lost.
He was disbarred two years ago. That both feels like too much and not enough time. For the most part, he likes to think that he’s been coping with it well. He’s been working, and raising Trucy, and he’s had some other little things in the works, but on today of all days, it’s so hard to focus and not feel the ache of what was taken from him, of what he’s lost, of those who have come to his door in the past couple years looking for help and having to be turned away.
“Trucy, baby,” Phoenix starts, trying to let her down easy, but Trucy stomps her foot.
“No, Daddy, please, just, just come? To the show? Please?” She begs.
She’s been 'off' all week, too quiet and then too talkative in bursts that serve to confuse Phoenix. Now, there’s something almost akin to fear in her eyes, and it tugs at Phoenix’s heartstrings.
“Alright, sweetie, let me just,” He looks down at himself, still in sweatpants and a hoodie. He’d meant to get dressed today, but even now he’s struggling to find the energy to get into something better, and eventually he just says lamely, “Put some shoes on.”
He gets a pair of beat-up sneakers on and walks outside with Trucy, who is still vibrating with energy. He considers for a moment that perhaps he should buy a new pair of shoes, but then he sees Trucy’s cape, starting to look thread-bare in places and sitting so much shorter on her than it did two years ago. It used to fall to cover her almost completely in a mysterious sort of way, but now you can see her entire hands. Trucy has told him before it’d be fine, her cape had been too long anyway, but maybe he should start to consider how to get her something new and nice. Things for himself could be put off as long as they needed to be.
The ride down to the Wonder Bar is quiet between them, Trucy sitting on his handlebars with careful balance. The first five times they did it, Phoenix had been worried about her falling off or something, but now it was routine if they had anywhere they both had to be and didn’t have the time to puzzle through bus schedules or the budget for a taxi.
Phoenix recognizes some of the people in the Wonder Bar, and Mr. Wunderbar himself comes over and greets.
“Ah, Ms. Wright, so glad to see you! Your assistants are already backstage.” Mr. Wunderbar says. Phoenix’s brow furrows.
“Assistants? You mean the your staff?” Phoenix asks.
“Alright thanks Mr. Wunderbar Daddy find a seat love you bye!” Trucy says in one breath and runs over to the stage.
“This way, Mr. Wright. Trucy asked that we have a table upfront reserved just for you.” Mr. Wunderbar leads the way to one of the tables close to the stage, which does indeed have a a ‘Reserved’ marker on it. Phoenix feels suddenly self conscious in his outfit. He’d been planning to sit in the back, where nobody could see him, and he feels like everybody in the bar, waiting for Trucy to perform, are staring at him.
Mr. Wunderbar took his order and then slipped away. Phoenix drumms his fingers on the table, a cowardice sweeping through him with such force that he almost gets up and walks away. Something odd is going on, and it's making him even more nervous.
“Oh good, Trucy was really worried you wouldn’t show up.”
Phoenix jumps at the familiar voice, and spins around to see Maya and Pearls.
“Wh- hey, what are you two doing here?!” Phoenix jumps up and hugs both of them, “And especially what’s Pearls doing in here?”
“Mr. Wunderbar says that so long as nobody at our table orders drinks, he’ll allow it this once.” Maya says, sitting down, and Pearls sits on the other side of Phoenix, sandwiching him between the Fey’s.
“But why are you two-”
“Now Nick, do you really think we’d let you spend today on your own to mope?” Maya sets her hands on her hips. Phoenix looks away. He doesn’t point out that they didn’t last year, because it’s not their responsibility to look after him. Maya has her own life she’s living. She had texted and called him, though, regularly, throughout the day, at random intervals. She threatened that if he didn’t pick up any of the times, she’d be coming over right way, “I’ll admit, though, clearly we came mostly to see Trucy perform. Right Pearls?”
“Yeah! She’s so amazing, Mr. Nick! And we also had to bring the-” Pearls starts to say, but Maya puts a finger to her lips and shushes Pearls, who’s mouth slams shut.
“... alright, enough of this, what’s going on?” Phoenix asks more plainly.
“So she still hasn’t seen fit to tell you yet?”
And then, slipping into the fourth seat at the table, is Miles. Miles, in California, in the flesh, in the Wonderbar.
“M-Miles! What are you doing here?”
“Your daughter had a simple request, and I obliged.” Miles sniffs, “You look,” Miles regards Phoenix and Phoenix looks away, wishing he’d brought something to cover his head as well, “Alright, all things considered.” He ends.
“No need to sugar coat it, Miles.” Phoenix laughs bitterly.
“I’m not. You seem to forget you’re not the only one who has gone through some trying times.”
Before Phoenix can formulate anything to say to that, the lights in the bar dim. The curtain lifts, but there’s a sheet behind it, so that all once can see of Trucy is her silhouette.
“Now introducing… Trucy Gramraye!” The announcer booms, and there’s some applause, even though nothing’s happened yet, Trucy still not seen.
“There are times that we, in life, come to a crossroads,” Trucy’s voice booms through the speakers over a mystical sounding soundtrack, “ Where we our lives take sudden changes.”
Oh, Phoenix thinks, heart plummeting to the bottom of his stomach, a theory forming in his mind, She wanted me here for her Last Show. Did something happen that made her want to stop being a magician? He’s tried to be supportive, even though he’s had some trouble keeping track of the supplies she needs, and how to help her out, with her teaching him far more than he can possibly teach her about this stuff. He’s offered to get in touch with Max Galactica, but Trucy had made it plain her opinion of that magician.
“Sometimes, you need to say things. And sometimes actions - and appreances - speak louder than words.”
Phoenix almost wants to stand up, to shout at her that no, he doesn’t want her to give up her magic just because she thinks it’s going to make him happy, but he’s frozen in his seat as the sheet of paper hiding his daughter from view is torn through and fog comes rolling out… but she’s not there.
In a puff of smoke, Trucy appears on top of his table. She winks down at him, the spot light finding her.
Her red hat and cape and bag are all gone, replaced by pale blue versions. New, lovingly crafted, and Trucy puts her hands above her head in a pose.
“I am Trucy Gramarye, but your little witch in red is now a magician in blue. Sorry if I startled anybody by coming… out of the blue like that?” Trucy says. She smiles, twirls around, and in another puff of smoke she’s gone. The room goes dark.
The spotlight finds her back on the stage, still in the strange blue uniform.
“Wh-what- when did she-”
“You know, in Kurain, we have to make all our own clothes.” Maya says with a mischievous little smirk.
“You mean you-”
“She wanted to put together something to make sure you weren’t too sad today.” Maya explains, smiling.
Phoenix does his best not to cry so that he doesn’t miss any bit of the show.
When it’s done, Mr. Wunderbar brings over another chair and Trucy sits with them. Phoenix spends the evening surrounded by his friends, by his family, and staring at Trucy’s new outfit. Blue, just like his old suit, he thinks.
“Do you like it?” She asks, surprisingly shyly, right before bed. Phoenix grins, picks her up, and twirls her around.
“You look amazing sweetie. You know, you didn’t have to go through all that just for me.”
“I didn’t do it just for you.” Trucy defends, “I did it because I wanted to! And because I love you!”
“I love you too Truce.”
Tomorrow morning, reality will set in again. He’ll have work, and maybe all the grief he was able to put off today will make a forceful comeback, but tonight he knows he’s loved, and that Trucy wants to be a part of his world, wants to be a part of his broken little family, and maybe that’s all that really matters in the end.
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