#and i will be writing this i double triple pinky promise

[pettyprocrastination]

OH you don’t have to feel obligated to write if you’ve got things to do ^^’ (I won’t say NO but just that I wasn’t trying to get sum’n out of it on my end you feel?: I did see a recent reminder for divorced Frankie though - any thoughts/thots you’d care to spare?)

IM SO SORRY ITS TAKEN ME SO LONG TO GET BACK TO YOU ON THIS BUT I HAVE SOME INCREDIBLY SPECIFIC FRANKIE THOUGHTS (that will be turned into a fic eventually i promise im writing it i SWEAR)

he is in his heart and soul, a project dad/husband. this means that this man? always fixing some shit or starting a new project around the house. You cannot stop him.

you guys get a fixer upper house when you first get married. It's below your pay with some issues here and there, but frankie worked contracting jobs with his dad since highschool and took wood shop every year so he insists he can fix it.

you'll come home to power tools scattered on the dinner table and paint covering his pants because "why would I pay somebody twice the amount it's worth when I can just do it myself?"

if you go to the thrift store with this man and point something out saying "we could fix that up, don't you think." please be prepared to come home and find him working on it in the backyard.

he's covered in saw dust and has the imprint line of his goggles around his face but he's grinning and pulling you into his arms.

"jesus christ francisco" "what? You said that dresser would look nice in our room"! "but i didn't think you were going to actually get it!"

your clothes getting covered in sawdust and wood-stain as he kisses you and claims its "workman's comp"

francisco cursing up a storm while reading the instructions on a crib your mother bought from ikea because "these instructions are like the fucking davinci code" and tossing them aside before saying fuck it and making his own.

a beautifully crafted bassinet now sits in the nursery of baby Isabella Morales :')

After the divorce, this doesn't change.

There's a moment where something breaks and you turn to tell Francisco before realizing he isn't there.

You wait until after you drop elizabeth off at school to cry.

thirty minutes later youre at home when the somebody knocks at the door.

there's a tension, sure. you open the door to see your ex-husband standing there, toolbox in hand and mouth open like he wanted to say something but it dies in your throat at the sight of your red eyes and trembling lip. 

“frankie?” 

“Isabella.” he answers. “she uh, she called me.” 

part of you wanted to be mad. That elizabeth told her father that you needed help, that you were struggling. Another part wanted to be mad that she was using her phone at school which was a whole other conversation to be had

but you simply nodded and stepped to the side, savoring the way his hand grazed yours as he walked inside. 

he doesn’t mention that you haven’t taken the photos down of all three of you together, he simply opens the cupboard under the sink and gets to work. 

its the closest thing to domesticity he’s had since the divorce. the pair of you subconsciously slipping back into the little idiosyncrasies from years ago. 

you put a pot of coffee on as he grumbles and grunts under the sink, poorly disguising a laugh as a cough when he goes to sit up and smacks his head on the pipe. 

shuffling from underneath with a now red mark on his forehead as he points a scolding finger in your direction. “you are horrible.” but you hand him a warm cup of coffee and he forgives instantly. 

you sit in silence, shoulder to shoulder on the kitchen floor. 

the job is done. he could leave, go back home with a goodbye and ‘I’ll pick Isa up this friday.” before going back to his small apartment that would feel even smaller after having a taste of what home used to be with you. 

But he doesn’t. he sits in silence, savoring the way you foot sways back and forth on the tile floor until you finally speak. 

“I’m proud of you. You know that?” Your voice is tiny and frail and you tilt your head to look at him. 

My god he could just cry. 

“I’m really proud of you, Frankie. Me and Isabella both are. You know that, right?” 

Did you have any idea? what you were doing to him? 

the love of his life, the mother of his daughter and the reason he was still on this earth, staring at him with such emotion and love in your eyes he felt like a voyeur just for looking at you. 

He looks away, down at the chipped cup in his hands, one you got on a roadtrip when Isabella was only 2. 

Francisco doesn’t trust his voice to not fail him. So he only nods. 

You look up at the clock and curse. 

“what? what’s wrong?” 

you shoot up, feet sliding on the floor as you scurry forward. “Isa! I was supposed to pick her up from school ten minutes ago!” 

you grab your keys in a mad dash, barely sparing a glance over your shoulder to the man you married. 

“You wanna come with?” 

He stares at you, slack jawed and silent. 

“You would let me-” 

“of course. We can..get lunch. I think it’d be good for her, yeah?” 

Isabella doesn’t say anything when you pick her up from school. 

She was ready to snip that you were late, and its embarrassing to be picked up late, but then she noticed frankie sitting in the front seat and smiling at her. 

“Good day at school mija?” 

she doesn’t ask if this means you’re getting back together, or why you’re both picking her up or why his hand rests on the console, occasionally grazing your arm as you drive. 

“It was okay. Can we get Burger King? I’m hungry.” 

she just enjoys it. The little look she sees you give her father as she inSIST on ordering a strawberry milkshake despite the fact she never finishes them, and the way he holds out his hand behind the seat for her to give him fries and the way you laugh when he holds one up to your mouth at a stop light. 

she should clog the garbage disposal more often. 

[dhrdrabbles]

Their Quidditch practice round on Thursday evenings had six core members – Potter (the Undying), Potter (the Actual Harpy Professional Who Somehow Had the Time on Thursdays), Weasley (the Clown Turned Successful Businessman), Weasley (the Annoying), Weasley (the Eldest), and Draco. Other players joined them on an irregular basis and they usually were enough to play full games, but Double Potter, Triple Weasley, and, well, Draco, had become the staple.

Spouses and friends – and yes, even offspring by now – would be around to watch. As the weekly game had turned into something a little larger, someone (Draco’s Galleons were on Weasley the Clown) had installed a butterbeer tab next to their pitch. Small ranks had been built shortly after.

The practice round had gotten so infamous, it had even finally broken the ice for Draco in the Ministry. He had spent two years as an intern – an intern –and had then been promoted to a clerk. Draco’s skin still crawled when he thought about the day of his ‘promotion’ – being called into Fawley’s office, expecting some form of recognition at last, only to be greeted with a sneer and the contract for the position as a paper pusher with a negligibly higher salary compared to the longest internship in the history of internships.

He had been the newest regular on the Quidditch pitch then, only recently acquired by Potter (the Undying) in an act of Gryffindor gallantry, but on the night of his promotion, Draco had played the worst game of his life and when Potter had called him out on it, he had snapped. This was the night they had become friends over a ridiculous amount of Firewhiskey (and some unholy verbal abuse towards the Ministry’s ongoing corrupt behaviour which had benefitted Draco for the larger part of his life as Potter pointed out after the fourth whiskey).

The night was, alas, the turning point for Draco. When it became apparent that he was indeed on the pitch to play Quidditch, not kill the Chosen One, and when he sometimes cheered with Weasley and Weasley (whichever) after winning together, he gradually found himself in a more favourable light off-pitch as well.

Six weeks after he and Potter had hit the bottle, Draco received his first ever commendation at work.

Six months after that, Fawley acknowledged (reluctantly) that it was a waste of talent to have Draco sit on a clerk position.

The affiliation with ‘good people’ had done that for Draco. It often left him with a seething feeling, somewhere in the middle of jealousy, anger, mistrust and resignation. He was, however, also humbled by the experience, maybe as much as he had been when Potter and Granger had testified during his trial.

And Potter knew. He would sometimes smile to himself when he stepped by Draco’s office and read the nametag which now identified him as an International Officer for the Department of International Magical Cooperation.

However, despite all the redemption bullshit and the mere presence of two Potters and a minimum of three Weasleys, not to speak of the immense popularity of Thursday practice games and drinks afterwards, one person was conspicuously absent every Thursday without fail.

She was here today.

Draco saw her brunette mane fifteen minutes into the game and almost came to a complete halt.

A bludger spurred past his cheek and Inglebee followed shortly after, shouting at Draco.

Blinking, he set off again, looking for the snitch.

Draco lowered his broom – keeping his watch for the little gold ball. Yes, this was definitely Hermione Granger, gracing the ranks of the Quidditch pitch for the first time in five years. Her hair, usually a little tamer when at work, now fell without constraints. He wondered if he could see her cast the trademark blow on the infamous flick of hair that always found its way into her face.

A hissing noise distracted Draco and he dove to the left to dodge another bludger. A cursing Inglebee followed right after, he saw Bole laughing from a distance. Cursing himself now, Draco looked out for Potter and found him hovering at the other end of the pitch, looking rather confused.

‘Get it together’, Draco told himself, shaking his head.

So what if she was here? Everyone knew Granger was usually still at work when their games started and didn’t care much for Quidditch anyway. Everyone knew she didn’t really like crowded places, so she avoided coming to the Leaky afterwards as well.

Draco frowned. He half-heartedly followed Potter now, who circled above the other players. The snitch was nowhere near, however, and Draco dove down to look among the other players. It was pure coincidence that he came to a halt just below Granger’s seat. He only observed her Muggle summer dress for a few milliseconds, always one the lookout for the snitch or another –

‘Malfoy, what the fuck!’ Inglebee shouted, again beating the bludger away from Draco. He grimaced.

‘Sorry, thought I saw the snitch down there!’

‘You didn’t move shit, you smarmy flobberworm!’

Always one for words, Inglebee flew off, still swinging his bat angrily. Draco grimaced again, again looking out for a little gold something. Was that a gold necklace around Granger’s neck or –

Cheering interrupted Draco’s contemplation and he whirled around, seeing Potter with the snitch. He was barely ten feet away from Draco and – again – looked at him in confusion, before Weasley (the Elder) and Wood tackled him for a victory hug.

When Draco landed, Weasley (the Clown) patted him on the shoulder.

‘Got a little confused there, Malfoy? See something you like?’

‘What? No! Get lost, Weasley.’

George only laughed and congratulated his wife on the win. Angelina smiled at Draco but seemed almost as confused as Potter.

Avoiding his other teammates after this embarrassing performance, Draco strode straight to the bench where the players usually kept their belongings during games.

‘Accio water bottle’, he murmured, then gulped down some water first and poured the rest over his neck. It was hot today, even in the evening.

‘Frigidus’, a prim voice behind him called. The cooling charm was cast exceptionally, or it would have been useless on Draco at this point. His neck was burning and for once he was glad his cheeks turned red as tomatoes when playing Quidditch, otherwise they surely would have done so now.

Hermione Granger stood next to the bench and looked down blithely.

‘Harry keeps telling me you’re one of the best players on the pitch, Malfoy. Yet this was rather …’, she chuckled and Draco groaned in frustration. Was she here to mock him?

When he didn’t respond, Granger strolled to the other side of the bench and sat down beside him, her slender, tanned legs crossed. Draco was acutely aware of his post-Quidditch smell and squirmed a little. This was not how he had imagined –

‘I must say, however, the statistics are on your side. I’m willing to give you another chance to impress me next week.’

He couldn’t help it. ‘Are you sure it won’t be another five years until you find the time?’

Her eyebrow was raised as she looked at him. Before Draco had the chance to regret what he had said, she blew the infamous flick of hair out of her face. He was so done for.

‘It’s in my calendar, Malfoy. I keep my word. Make sure you don’t encounter any … confounding variables next week.’

‘Gryffindor pinkie promise’, he mumbled and she laughed. ‘Indeed. Here.’

Granger held out her pinkie to him and Draco smiled involuntarily. Her hand lingered on his and his heart rate shot up.

‘Are you coming to the Leaky tonight, then?’

She hesitated. Potter had once told him that Granger didn’t handle crowds well since the Battle of Hogwarts. Cursing inwardly, he added, ‘We can sit at the table all night if you want.’

Granger’s smile returned softly. ‘Sounds good.’

‘Really?’

She now laughed again. Draco kept scolding himself inwardly for sounding like an overly excited teenager. Another, much more agreeable teenager than he had been, granted, but also a much more cringeworthy one.

‘Sure’, she seemed to hide a smile as she stood and patted down her dress. ‘See you later, then.’

Draco couldn’t believe his luck. His eyes followed her slender frame surrounded by the most impossible hair out there as she walked towards Potter, who now stared at the two of them with suspicion. Halfway between them, Granger turned towards Draco again. ‘Can I bring a book?’

He groaned but couldn’t hide his amusement. ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way, Granger!’

 Author’s notes:

I have come to the conclusion that I am unable to actually write in drabble format. Have another fluffy short one shot during these tiring times.

[all1e23]

Astrophile [Pt.14]

Chapter:  Aquila

Summary: Lunch dates and art shows 

Warnings:  It’s kind of a sad chapter which is so unusual for Astrophile and I feel bad about it, okay??? Ends happily, though.  Or the promise of happiness. 

A/N:   That much closer to the end lovelies. 3 more chapters to go!  Send me love because I’m needy, okay??

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

Y/n has been in a funk since that day. 

That terrible, awful day she never wants to speak about. The day she realized Bucky really is only her friend and all the handholding at the zoo was merely friendly, and the flirting was only playful banter she mistakenly took for flirty teasing. She’s aware how laughable the thought of forgetting the entire day is and just how foolish it was for her to think they were anything other than friends.  It’s not as if he has changed the way he has treated her; his actions towards her have stayed the same since they met. Maybe he’s a little more comfortable and a bit more sure of himself around her, but nothing has changed between them. 

In the three months, two week and five days they have known each other, nothing has changed to make her think that his heart was longing for hers the way her heart wanted to belong to him.  

Though she supposes the more significant issue, Bucky’s been dating someone else and never bothered to mention the woman to Y/n.  She thought they were closer than that. She believed he would at least subtly drop a hint that he had started talking to another woman. All those nights they spent talking on the phone he never once brought it up and now grabbing his hand the way she did felt incredibly inappropriate. But she could have sworn that night on the phone when she was drifting off he called her babydoll. It must have been the sleepy twilight playing tricks on her. 

Natasha told her as much. She said there was no way Bucky was seeing someone else and she didn’t know about it, more importantly, there was no way he was seeing someone and let her into Ori’s life. Someone was playing a trick on her. Natasha told her, you’re the only woman he would allow in Ori’s life like that. He keeps his dating life separate from her. It was nice to hear, but it didn’t mean all that much in the end. Ori’s the brightest little girl Y/n has ever met; she wouldn’t put it past her to have figured it out regardless of Bucky’s intentions. 

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you and Barnes?” Tony asks as his arm drops behind her on the back of the dark blue couch in her office. After having refused to meet Tony for lunch for the third time this week, he came by with tacos from her favorite place and flipped the open sign to closed. After he purchased the books of all her customers that were currently waiting and politely asked them all to leave. 

And added on their way out, the owner is actually very nice, and I promise not to kick you out when you come back, and you all better come back. 

Y/n narrows her eyes in suspicion as his question tumbles around her head. Tony shouldn’t know anything happened between her and Bucky. The only person she mentioned it to was Natasha so Tony shouldn’t be giving her that know-it-all smirk right now. Tony sighs through her silence and points to her calendar on the wall behind them.

“You erased movie night with Bucky from Thursday. We’ve been talking for two hours now, and your phone hasn’t gone off once. He called you more when we were dating. So what happened?” 

Her eyes lingered on the faded pencil, and little pieces of pink rubbed off eraser; she learned long ago to never write anything down in permanent ink.

Long ago, when the books she read still had pictures on every page, and she was just beginning to learn of the stars, black ink and curly script taught her nothing should be written in ink. It was a conference. Just a simple lecture. It was only supposed to be four days, and then they would be home. Her parents had promised five years old her they would be back in four short days, but they never made it to the conference, and they never came home. The ink on the calendar in the kitchen wouldn’t come off no matter how hard she tried. 

It’s been pencil from that moment on.

“I don’t know,” Y/n says with a shrug and pushes her plate away from her, leaning in to Tony’s side. She couldn’t force herself to eat another bite. She doesn’t have the stomach to eat a plate full of anything right. Tacos or not.

“I thought maybe…” Y/n let her voice trail off and the conversation still, she didn’t want to admit what she thought.   

“You thought what?” Tony urges, bumping their knees together in an encouraging nudge. She looks up from where she’s leaning on him and gives a small shrug, “I thought maybe he was asking me out on a date, so I was excited. It was dumb.” 

Tony shakes his head and presses a kiss to her forehead, “I’ll tell you one thing, the two of you are made for each other, you know that?” 

She slowly sits up and pulls her legs under her, confusing yet curious gleam in her eyes. “What does that mean?“ 

He chuckles and pulls her plate towards him, stealing a bite of one of her untouched tacos as he casually suggests, "Bring him to my wedding." 

Y/n blinks and blinks again. She clearly didn’t hear that right. She shakes the fog away and swiftly drags the plate away from him before being her interrogation, "I’m sorry your what?"

Tony reaches for the dish, but she deliberately keeps it just out of his reach. Tony huffs in defeat and abandons the tacos. 

"Did I not mention I told Pepper…Well, I actually blurted it out in an argument, but I told her that I might be absolutely, unequivocally, in love with her, at least I think so. Never been in love with anyone but her so I don’t have a lot to compare it to and for some reason I can’t figure out she said she loved me too. Happy? Can I have the tacos now?” 

She snorts and passes the plate back over so it’s within his reach once again. It did seem a little fast, but it’s Tony so part of her wasn’t all that surprised. 

"And that means getting married right away? You don’t want to just date and see where it goes?” 

Tony sets her plate back on the table and wraps both of her hands in his. 

"Y/n, I’ve loved her for half my life. When you wait as long as I have, you really don’t want to wait anymore. Though Pepper does want to wait. A year. She’s actually in charge. I pretend it’s me. Don’t tell anyone I said that. She settled on next July.  Bring Barnes with you and maybe by the end of the night, one of you will finally admit how you feel.” 

Y/n couldn’t help but smile at how giddy Tony sounded. Perhaps waiting wasn’t the right choice every time. She has always waited until she was one hundred percent sure the decision she was making was the right choice, ensuring she wasn’t making any mistakes, double-checking, and triple-checking. Maybe she waited too long and checked those little boxes too many times. She should have said something the moment she knew she felt something for Bucky. On the balcony with the peach-colored sky in front of her and delicate whispers in her ear because pinky promises weren’t the only thing exchanged that night. 

There’s no point in dwelling on all that now. Whatever they had was over, if they ever had anything at all.

"I’ll be there. Not sure if Bucky will come with me. Things are weird now. I tried to talk to him, but I felt funny knowing he has someone else. Plus, his girlfriend might not like the idea of him going to someone’s wedding as my date, Tony.” 

Tony furrows his brows and shakes his head, a look of thorough disbelief written on his face.

“Good grief,” Tony sighs dramatically. 

“Just ask him, will you? He will go if you ask him. I don’t think anyone could keep him from being your date and I am pretty sure this fake girlfriend you’re talking about doesn’t stand a chance next to you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and I’m never wrong. It’s a curse really.” 

Fake girlfriend? Yeah, okay. Y/n wants to tell Tony he is about to be wrong for the first time in his life and can join Natasha on the losers bench. He didn’t see the look on Ori’s face when she asked for that book. Whoever the woman is, she’s important to Bucky and to Ori. Just because he has a girlfriend, doesn’t mean they can’t be friends though. They were friends when she dated Tony, so why should this be any different? Bucky held her heart then too, she only couldn’t see it at the time.  

If Y/n asked him to go to Tony’s wedding as a friend it didn’t have to mean more than that. Friends do favors for friends all the time, and this was just that. A simple favor because it could never be more than that. They would probably never be more than friends, and she would have to be okay with that. She drops her head back onto the headrest of the couch in her office and spots the clouds through her small window and she can’t help but wonder what Bucky is doing right now. 

--------

“You grumpy because she canceled on you?” 

Bucky sighed and tipped his head back on the deck chair and looked up at the clouds. Too early for stars, but he wonders where Y/n is and if she’s looking up at the same clouds. Was he grumpy because Y/n cancelled on him? Sam usually didn’t ask questions he doesn’t already know the answer to, but Bucky isn’t so sure he knows the answer to this question. No. No, he’s not– Okay, maybe a little. In truth, he just misses her. He misses talking to her until she falls asleep and their video chats and her laugh and lemon pancakes. 

Yeah, they still talk every day, but it’s different, strange. She’s distant and off, and he doesn’t know how to fix it. So if he is grumpy at all, which he isn’t, that’s why. He doesn’t know how to get them back, and he has no idea how to fix this.

“Nope,” Bucky finally answered, faint but curt. 

“Man… you’re in love with her. Can we just cut the crap and figure out where you went wrong so we can make a plan to fix whatever you did,” Steve nudges Sam’s arm and shakes his head, silently telling him to go easy on the teasing. He’s known Bucky his entire life, and he’s never once seen him this tore up because of a woman he likes. 

“No, I’m not,” Bucky counters.  “Besides, even if I was, I don’t want to bring some woman into Ori’s life just so she can bolt on her.” 

Steve puts a hand on Sam’s shoulder to stop him, but Sam shrugs it off. Now, he’s pissed and he’s done with whatever game Bucky is playing. 

“First of all,  she is not just some woman. You’re upset and hurting so you’re saying some dumb shit right now. I’ll let it slide. Second, Y/n didn’t bolt on Ori. She’s still spending time with her. You just said Nat took her to the bookstore yesterday. Y/n is spending just as much time with Ori as she was before, and peanut has no idea what’s going on. You’re mad she’s not spending time with you.”

Bucky has nothing to say to that because Sam is right. He’s jealous and sad and misses her more than he wants to admit to anyone – himself included. If he doesn’t admit it, if he doesn’t say it out loud then it’s not real, and he still has time.There’s still the illusion he has time with her. 

“Have you tried talking to her and asking what happened?” Steve asks, much gentler than his other half. 

“Yeah, I text her. ‘Bout twenty times, and her replies are weird and stiff. You think I just stopped talking to her completely? I tried, okay?”

Sam rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath, “For the love of…” He sits up and meets Bucky’s eyes speaking slow and clear, “Have you talked to her in person? Spelled it all out?  Because I swear the two of you need it in a flashing neon sign written out plainly for you both to see.” 

Bucky shifts in his chair and looks down at the empty bottle of water in his hand. Of course, Bucky has thought about driving to the bookstore. He thought about asking her if he did something, or said something to make her drop their night together. He’s thought about it at least a hundred times since she cancelled and every time he’s made it to the front door he stops himself because if he went there only to have her tell him to leave he doesn’t think his heart could take it. 

“She cancelled our date,” Bucky is quick to remind them. “I’m not going to just show up at her bookstore and be a creep when she obviously doesn’t want to be alone with me.” 

 “Your what?” Sam asks, a bit too eager. “She cancel;ed your what?” 

Bucky looks up to find Sam and Steve grinning at him and being set on fire would be a less painful death than this. He chucks his empty bottle of water at the couple who separate long enough to avoid the harmless plastic.

“Shut up. I hate you both,” Bucky stands up checking his phone before slipping it back into his pocket. No new messages. No missed calls. No replies. Not that he expected any. “Alright,” He cleared his throat of any lingering emotions. “Ori has that art show tonight. She’s submitting her fireworks in a jar and parents are supposed to put in their votes for the best artist so I’ll catch you jerks later.” 

“You bringing Ori over after her thing tonight? Just because you’re missing out on your date doesn’t mean we shouldn’t get to see our niece!” Sam shouts after him. Bucky doesn’t bother turning around, simply raises his hand and lets it drop back by his side.

“Yeah, Yeah. Be here around eight.”

Because a night alone was just what Bucky was hoping for. 

-----

Bucky stood next to Ori’s spot at the table her class was assigned to. Apparently, their classes were given animal mascots and her class was the Panda Class. Her table had a big Panda drawn on the bulletin board paper lining the tiny table. Bucky was helping her set up until about ten minutes when he was told by a certain curly-haired little girl that he was, truthfully, doing it all wrong and he should wait there to make sure everyone finds her spot. He has no idea what she is talking about. Bucky thought he put the poster board in the right spot and he’s the only one coming, so Bucky’s not entirely sure who he is supposed to help get to the table. 

Probably best he doesn’t ask, she gets her stress management from her Uncle Steve.

He spins around to check out their competition while Ori works, and there are a few pretty impressive displays. There are several pieces of artwork with bubblegum wrappers and another with melted candy turned into glass and Bucky’s a little worried about their changes. Not that fireworks in a jar aren’t the coolest, most original projects in the room but the parents had to vote (and yeah, Bucky thought that was pretty fucked up when they sent the flyer home) and Bucky knows adults aren’t always fair.

Now, Bucky isn’t proud of this, but for a brief moment, he thought about taking Natasha up on her offer to make sure Ori wins. He wasn’t sure what that would entail but knowing Natasha someone’s pigtails would be clipped by the end of the night. The idea of his bright-eyed girl leaving in tears had his hackles raised, but that wouldn’t be the best way to teach Ori about the real world, losing and earning your wins– Or that’s what Steve said anyway. 

“Daddy!” Ori squealed. “She’s here! She’s here!”

Bucky frowns as Ori rushes by him heading for the front doors of the cafeteria turned art gallery. Who the hell is Ori talking about? Bucky turns around in time to see Y/n hugging Ori against her, beaming like she does anytime she sees Ori. Y/n let Ori take her hand and leads her through the crowd, heading right for him. She looks anxious, maybe, or it could be the crowds. Y/n doesn’t like big crowds. Bucky’s not sure if he’s the reason behind her nerves, but she definitely looks nervous and so damn beautiful. 

Y/n stops in front of him letting Ori run back to the spot with her nametag written in glitter, leaving the two alone for the first time in far, far too long. Bucky catches a whiff of her lemon lotion, and that almond body spray she uses and his heart stutters back to life as if he hasn’t been living without a single beat since he lost her.

“Hey, December.”

Bucky grins for the first time in five days.

“Hey, Beck.”

Previous // Next 

[sxftrxchxe]

birds-e.k

AN-HI SORRY ITS ME EVIE IM NOT DEAD! I had a lot going on in my life that I needed to handle before I could even attempt to write. Now, everything is much better than before and I have the sweetest and most supportive group of friends ever. Enjoy and I’ll try my best to get all my old drafts and new (better) pieces out soon. <3

SONG: none

WARNINGS: none I think?

FANDOM: It 2017

WORDS-1943

SUMMARY: soulmate au where peoples icon on their wrists relates to their soulmate

yn-your name

ln-last name

ec-eye color

AGED UP TO JUNIORS 

Everyone is born with a small icon on their wrist representing their soulmate. While it definitely seemed more like a birth mark most called it a soulmate tattoo or more simply tattoo. 

yn ln was never shy with her tattoo. In fact ever since she was five she showed anyone who would look, the glasses on the inside of her wrist. Even when she got older and most people had already seen it she didn't cover it like others did, instead never wearing anything that covered her wrist.

Her best friends were the same. Audra made a point of showing the paper boat on her wrist to everyone she met and Beverly never covered the little book on hers even in the winter.

That's partly why Audra found her soulmate Bill Denbrough so quick. The average age was around sixteen but Audra ran into and fell in love with Bill at thirteen after she saw him practicing making paperboats in the library. He had a rose on his wrist like the one Audra wore everyday as a hair clip.

Beverly found her match in the library too. He had his nose in a book and a fire symbol on his wrist representing Beverly's fiery red hair. By fourteen both of yn's friends found their soulmates. She longed to have hers as well so the double dates could become triple dates and she could stop taking double takes at everyone with large glasses. But it wasn't until senior year she ran into a boy with neat brown hair and a small smile she met her soulmate.

☾

"So that leaves me with yn ln and Eddie Kaspbark." The teacher tapped her clipboard with her pen before nodding and looking back at her class of bored students. "Pair up come on no one here bites."

yn rolled her eyes subtly from her seat near the front and looked around for the boy she was paired with. Eddie Kaspbark. She had heard of him mostly from him being friends with the most annoying boy in school, Richie Tozier. His dark brown eyes met hers from a few rows back presumably looking for her as well. Spotting the empty seat next to him yn swung her pastel bag over her shoulder and carried her pencil case to the spot making a small "oof" as she sat down.

Eddie smiled slightly at the short hc girl as she sat beside him, dropping her bag on the floor by his legs and pencil case at his hand. She finally looked back at him with her eyes that always seemed to have layers of mascara on that more often than not clumped together.

"So Kaspbark any idea on what to do for this project?" He shrugged having not thought about it at all and swiveled into his chair. yn leaned onto the table and tapped her pencil off of it biting her lip as she thought. He saw her eyes gaze around the room before landing on the glasses imprinted on her wrist. His eyes widened at first as he almost recognized them but he quickly shook it off deciding there was absolutely no way his idea was at all logical.

"Well we could do about the whole soulmates thing. Mrs. Mayfield did leave it vague enough for that to be possible. Plus I don't really know much about them aside from the basics honestly."

"You? You don't know much about them?" Eddie asked almost not believing the small girl. She had a reputation to flaunt her tattoo and her two best friends had found their soulmates. How was it possible she hadn't read up on them? Still even if he didn't believe her she shrugged the light blue denim jacket almost sliding off her boney shoulders.

"Just because I like them doesn't mean I'm obsessed. What's yours?" Eddie blinked back at the girl the question not fully comprehending in his head till she shuffled awkwardly.

"M-My what?"

"Your tattoo? Duh." She laughed now her tongue sticking between her teeth as she did. Eddie decided he liked it when she laughed and vowed to try and make her laugh more throughout their three week project. He rolled the sleeve of the oversized beige cardigan slung over his shoulders up holding it towards the blonde girl. She traced the small pattern on his wrist with her pointer finger making sure not to press too hard.

"Birds." She said with a hint of uncertainty in her voice. Eddies tattoo wasn't as clear as others she had seen being more abstract in look. He nodded and pulled his hand back slowly once she stopped tracing it almost wanting to ask her to keep going since it was soothing. "It's cute. Different. I wonder what your soulmate will have to do with birds?"

Eddie smiled a real proper smile back at her for the first time since they had been partnered together. He nodded only slightly not taking his eyes off the small splash of freckles across the girls button nose. She smiled back her teeth showing and tongue sticking between the gap between her front again.

"Yeah...." His voice was softer than usual as he responded. "I do too." He could almost feel the rest of the noisy classroom melt away as yn gulped back and went to say something.

"I-I...."

A shrill sound ring out from behind Eddie that caused the class to cheer and scramble together their supplies as Mrs. Mayfield left the room bringing her empty cup of coffee with her.

"Oh that's the bell." She changed her mind last second pulling her jacket back up and picking her bag off the wooden science room floor. Eddie slunk back in his seat and packed his pencil case cursing the bell mentally for not letting her finish.

"So you should come around to mine after school. I have a laptop we can do research there." Eddie nodded watching the girl leave the short white skirt flowing around her legs before he realized something and called her name making the whole class turn to look at him.

"yn!"

"Yes?" He swallowed ignoring the twenty pairs of eyes on him trying to focus only on yn's ec ones.

"Well umm... I don't have your address." His cheeks now had a small tint of red spreading across them as yn laughed and made her way back to his table. He felt the other students eyes drift off to other places the only ones still watching him being yn's friend Audra.

"Do you perhaps have a piece of paper at your disposal?" She asked in a britsh accent trying to calm the tension she has felt build after Eddie called after her. Eddie scrambled around in his bag before handing her a small crumpled piece of paper to write on. She clicked down a biro and scribbled her address down in scrawled cursive before handing it to Eddie. He nodded back stuffing it into the front of his bag as the girl made her way to her impatient brunette friend now calling her name.

"Bye Eds!" She threw over her shoulder as she left the classroom before breaking into a giggling conversation with Audra who went a few looks Eddies way. He sighed and fell back onto his seat running his hands through his hair.

"Eddie spaghetti! There you are! Started getting worried you ran off." His friend with black curly hair yelled at him as he strolled into the class receiving many eye rolls from the few remaining students. "Come on man lets go to lunch."

☾

yn made finishing touches to the PowerPoint as Eddie corrected her grammar mistakes on their conclusion beside her. The only noise that was heard in the girls room being her typing and his writing after her speaker died midway through a Taylor Swift marathon. "Hey ln?"

yn hummed in response not looking up from the screen until she heard Eddies writing stop as he sighed. He looked worried and fiddled with the hem of the polo shirt he wore that day. "Yes?"

"Do you think we'll still be friends when this is over?" yn closed the laptop down setting it aside so she could turn to fully face the dark haired boy she could now consider a friend.She held out her pinky a happy glint in her usual gloomy eyes covered in mascara.

"Let's pinky promise on it. I do kinda like hanging out with someone not kissing their dumb soulmate every ten seconds for a change." Eddie put his own pinky up allowing to girl to connect them. Eddie could almost feel her climb towards him slowly.

"And I like talking to someone who doesn't do stupid accents and make inappropriate jokes every ten seconds." yn smiled not letting go of Eddies pinky and getting closer till his phone made a noise beginning to vibrate. She jumped back nearly falling off her bed as Eddie picked it up sighing as he saw the name on the screen.

"Speaking of the devil it's Richie. I'll just tell him to-"

"No!" yn said quickly before Eddie could click the decline button. "No. We need a break and we could have some fun with him. From what I've heard he's a great conversationalist."

Eddie groaned and shook his head as he tapped the accept button warning yn she'd regret it as the familiar face of his best friend came on screen. "Hey douchebag why is your room pink?"

"No-Richie I'm with yn. We have a science project together right." yn watched the boy on screen nod in sudden realization feeling his eyes look at her instead.

"Oh yeah the ln girl. Hey what's the deal with your tattoo? Everyone else seems to have seen it but me." yn sighed and moved closer to Eddie on the bed so she could see the boy properly instead of just from the distance

"Well I heard you were annoying and a trashmouth and neither of which are things I like." She pulled the sleeve of her pale pink sweater up holding the glasses towards the camera. Eddie watched in silence hoping it wouldn't go the way he thought it would. "It's just glasses could be anyone really."

yn could see Richie's eyes clearly widen even though the quality of the screen wasn't the best wasn't the best. He leaned away from the screen and she heard scrambling around and cursing wearing large rimmed glasses eerily similar to the one on her wrist. "No way..."

"Yes way." yn took the phone from Eddies hand and asked to see Richie's tattoo. After a few seconds of scrambling and white noise he held up the small tattoo showing a mascara bottle. In fact it was the mascara bottle yn used to apply the layers and layers of mascara as she always did. She smiled back at Richie and asked for his phone number opening her laptop again so she could put it in her notes.

Eddie watched in silence both happy for his two friends and upset. He was upset that yn ln wasn't the three artistic birds on his wrist no matter how much she walked on her tippy toes like she was about to take flight. No matter how much she wanted to get away, leave with the winds to another town even county far away.

No yn ln was just mascara. Mascara to show she liked having long lashes to flutter at teachers to get her way or at nerdy boys to make them do her bidding.

She wasn't the artistic birds on his wrist that they had discovered meant his soulmate was more of a bird metaphorically than a literally.

The yn ln he found himself hopelessly in love with was reduced to something almost meaningless and maybe that upset him more than not being hers.

[animebw]

Binge-Watching: Gintama, Episodes 257-261 (For Real This Time)

Guys, I think this show might be kinda good. Just a theory. Maybe I’m wrong, who can say?

Speechless

I have experienced a lot while watching GIntama. I’ve been put through the emotional wringer time and time again. I’ve been amazed, inspired, astonished, destroyed, broken, rebuilt, and overwhelmed time and time again. I’ve had my expectations blown to pieces more times than I can count. I have used pretty much every superlative I have in my vocabulary to describe how completely and utterly this show has earned my undying affection. I have felt stymied so many times by my struggle to get across how much certain moments and arcs have meant to me. This show has defied me time and time again, constantly testing my abilities to properly catalogue my thoughts and emotions while writing about it. It. Leaves. Me. In. Awe.

And I think it just fucking topped itself again.

Wow. Wow, wow, wow, wow, double wow, triple fried wow with cheese on top. The Pinky Swear arc, no joke, might be the single best stretch of episodes this show has ever accomplished. Yes, you heard that right. After just about 100 episodes sitting pretty at the top, Yoshiwara in Flames finally has a contender to the throne. Honestly, I’m not even sure which one manages to come out on top by the end. They’re that fucking close in my head. So for the moment, I won’t bother trying to pick a favorite. Instead, I will just say this: this was the most game-changing arc that Gintama’s ever pulled off. It changes everything. It flips the table. It re-writes the rules in ways not even the show’s previous examples of blowing the status quo to pieces could have ever prepared me for. It somehow pushes the show past boundaries I wasn’t even aware for there and onto an entirely new level of possibility. And it pulls all that off while still being just about the most awe-inspiring, epic spectacle I could ever imagine. This. Arc. Was. Everything. And not for the first time while watching this show, but certainly the first time to this extent, I have no idea if I can properly put into words just what a phenomenal achievement this was.

But of course I’m still gonna try. After all, I made a promise to GIntoki all the way back in Yoshiwara in Flames that I wouldn’t let this indomitable force of a show conquer my ability to do it justice. And if there’s one thing above all else to take away from this arc, is that every promise deserves to be kept. So LET’S FUCKING GO!!!!!

No Going Back

Gintama is a show deeply in touch with its own history. We’ve seen that fact proven time and time again over its extensive run; it knows how to draw on its own internal mythology for comedy and drama alike, building on running jokes with each new iteration and building on previously established world and character dynamics to explode in endlessly new directions. Recall in the Four Devas arc how bringing back a hodgepodge of one-off tertiary characters from countless episodes past made you truly appreciate the scope and scale of the extended Odd Jobs family as they fought against an external force threatening to tear them apart. This show is massive, and it knows how to use that massiveness as a part of its ongoing narrative. But the Pinky Promise arc single-handedly proves that up until now, Gintama’s been playing this angle with the kid gloves still on. I know, how fucking ridiculous is that? After all the things it’s already achieved, the show is still revealing new levels of what it’s capable of. It’s still completely blowing open the gates of its own limitations, letting no ceiling stand in its way. And with this arc, it just pierced the heavens harder and farther than it ever has before: by pulling the most massive collection of characters and callbacks and established threads together into a single, unified, utterly gobsmacking tale.

It’s fitting that Yoshiwara, still the show’s most complex and fleshed-out setting, once again serves as the source for one of its best arcs, once again diving deep into the former City of Night’s dark political history to form the backbone of its tale. The shadows of this recovering town are still climbing into the light, bringing darker and darker secrets with them. And this time, the complex web of intrigue climbing into the sunlight to explore in a chorus of black fire ends up dragging the city itself into its snare. And I mean that literally: the entire goddamn city becomes the battleground for this power play to explore. The mother fucking Shogun, one of the most delightful comedic presences on the show, reminds us that he is still technically head of this country by assuming a leadership position in Gintama’s biggest, most expansive battle yet. The Odd Jobs Crew! The Shinsengumi! The just-introduced Mimawarigumi, already back in the spotlight, with a special focus on Nobume and her intense love for donuts! Tsukuyo and the extended characters and baggage of Yoshiwara itself! Gintoki’s past dragged into the spotlight once more! And just when you thought it couldn’t get any bigger, the fucking Amanto themselves- the initial driving force behind the entire fucking show- step into the playing field to make the biggest power play we’ve ever seen from them. Yes, those fucking guys, who we were making jokes about not really being central to the plot anymore as early as the first 100 episodes, are back in the game. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

This is why I’m having so much trouble deciding between this arc and Yoshiwara in Flames as the true king. Because while Flames still hit me harder that anything else in the show on an emotional level, it was fairly self-contained. The Pinky Swear arc isn’t just epic; this is all-encompassing in a way that Gintama’s never been before. This takes every single central theme and plot thread over the show’s entire history and collectively brings them all to a tipping point. This battle is too big not to leave long-lasting scars in the landscape that will reverberate into the future for ages to come. There is, quite literally, no going back now. The future of this show’s narrative has been blown farther open than I ever thought possible. Gintoki and his crew are in the sights of the single most important entities in this show’s entire world. And the entire landscape of the show itself is darker, more dangerous, and more exciting than ever before.

But I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Because this arc doesn’t start out with explosions and stakes-raising and cities in peril. It starts, as all the best epics do, with the actions of a single, simple man.

Promises Broken...

It was pretty clear from the opening seconds of this episode that we were in for another one of this show’s truly epic experiences. I mean, even putting aside the new OP, awash in truly striking imagery and an epic, pulse-pounding rock ballad, the hinted-at promise between two people under a green-tinged moon to see each other under the moonlight once more us exactly the kind of understated, profoundly human sentiment that always serves as the jumping off point for the Benizakuras and the Spider’s Webs of this show’s canon. And that sentiment only grows as we start slowly piecing together the mystery of Suzuran, Yoshiwara’s eldest prostitute, and the man she forged that promise with under the moonlight. Separated by time and fate, their promise has remained unfulfilled for decades: to keep her safe, Maizo has served her terroriser without ever once getting a chance to go see her again. There’s a real sense of grandeur to the time these two have lost in each other’s absence, of lives spent waiting for the chance to bring their story to a close. Even close to the end, as impossible as their dream may seem, they’re both still holding on with all their might, waiting for the moment when they can finally see each other again.

But they’ve got one hell of a roadblock in their way. One thing I especially love about this arc is that it sets up to believe that Sadasada, the former shogun, is the man who forged that promise, setting him up as a classic Gintama tragic figure to be redeemed by the arc’s end by the unyielding samurai spirit of its title character. But instead, it turns out he was the villain behind why Maizo couldn’t keep that promise, keeping Suzuran as his property and ordering his second-hand man to slay her once her political use as a secret-keeper of Yoshiwara ran dry. For once, we have ourselves an utterly irredeemable bastard in the villain seat, someone willing to destroy everything and everyone in his path for his own selfish goals. That one scene that cross cuts between Tsukuyo in the present and Maizo in the past as they realize with horror that the man in their presence is ready to have his forces tear them limb from limb if need be? God, that was such an effective moment of visual storytelling that truly sells how despicable Sadasada is, plunging us right into the depths of his schemes. It gives this arc such a palpable sense of tension; there is nowhere to run and no peace to find now. There is only this one necessity: this asshole needs to go down.

That’s easier said than done, of course. Because not only is he fighting with the rage and fury of the Amanto on his side, he’s got an ace up his sleeve I never saw coming: Oboro, a death-dealing demon from Gintoki’s past as the White Beast of Vengeance.

The Broken Beast of Vengeance

It’s remarkable that for how much time we’ve spent exploring GIntoki’s past, there’s still a lot of it left in shadow. We know about his past with his master Shoyo, how he, Katsura, Sakamoto, and Takasugi were all students who grew up to fight in the anti-Amanto war, only to be broken by their loss in a multitude of different ways and sought vastly different avenues to make sense of their new lives. But the arrival of Oboro the assassin ends up revealing one of the most critical parts of Gintoki’s demons: survivor’s guilt. He was forced to watch as Shoyo was lead off to execution, unable to protect his master at the most critical moment. And in the end, Shoyo left him with nothing but a pinky promise of his own: protect everyone that he was leaving behind. Gintoki’s life, up until the show’s beginning, has been defined by his failure to cope with this promise, unable to stomach opening up to anyone ever again for fear of failing them as he did his master. He may as well have been a dead man, walking the battlefields as a specter of vengeance that fades away once the blood has stopped flowing.

Certainly, that’s how Oboro still sees him. He’s an assassin who’s made it his mission to destroy Shoyo’s students, purging his samurai influence from the world for good. And purge he does, giving Gintoki his most nail-biting challenge since facing down Hosen in the city of night. Their duel is brutal. It’s the closest GIntoki’s ever come to dying over the course of this show, almost succumbing to Oboro’s cold, literally poisonous calculation. And the terror in Tsukuyo’s voice as she begs him to come back from the brink had me shaking in my seat. Good fucking god, that agony was palpable. Oboro, in many ways, is an agent of the darkest, most dangerous force Gintoki has ever faced: hopelessness. He sees everyone as inevitably bound to their place; Sadasada is the agent of heaven, delivering justice down from on high, while Gintoki is the scum of hell, crawling along the earth like a worm until someone finally stomps him out. He’s the voice in the back of the silver-haired samurai’s head that says, “You will fail. Your friends will all die. You are no better than when you were a kid watching your master dragged to his death, unable to do anything to stop it.” He’s the black despair clawing at Gintoki’s mind, the despair that almost overcame him when Otose was nearly killed in the middle of the Four Devas arc. He’s the voice that says, why not just give up? Why not just let your ideals fall and give in? It’s easier than trying to pretend to be a hero. You are nothing. Your hopes are nothing. Your promises are nothing. And you will perish.

And once upon a time, Gintoki might have actually listened to him. Now, though?

Now, Oboro better be prepared to back those words up on the receiving end of a splintered wooden sword.

My Drill Creates the Heavens

Because for all the pain Gintoki’s gone through, for all the trials he inevitably has left to face, he will be damned if he gives up on the family he’s built from the ashes of his old life. Perhaps hall is waiting for him at the end of the line. But right now, as long as life still flows through his veins, he knows that heaven deserves a better messenger than this arrogant, cruel monster of a man calling himself “judge”. The promise Suzuran and Maizo made so long ago, the promises he’s made with his new life over and over, the promise he makes with them all now for them to all come back alive (side not, GIntoki pulling his nose hair out for the promise chain and immediately getting a Kunai in the face for his efforts had me in fucking hysterics), the promise he made to his master so long ago... the hope those bonds of trust represent is still worth fighting for. There’s a wonderful moment right before the gang makes their massive pinky promise where they’re all butting heads over stupid nonsense like usual, and suddenly, they all burst out laughing, realizing how even up against the fight of their lives, they still can’t give up on the million subtle, backwards ways they communicate with each other. Because that is the strength of their promise, forged through countless episodes and countless battles: the promise that above all else, they are family. They are there for each other.

So Oboro can keep his despair. Sadasada can keep his broken heaven. They can keep their twisted worldviews and hatred and arrogance. Because Gintoki has one thing on their side they will never have: the backing of every single person he’s drawn into his orbit over the past 250 episodes, every spark of the city he’s been saving for eons upon eons, every lingering thread of that promise made so long ago, determined to see this one old lady’s promise equally through. Hell can wait it’s turn. Right now, GIntoki’s silver soul is burning like a goddamn supernova, with all the light he’s shared with everyone. Right now, it’s time to take heaven back from a man who would abuse it to suit his own selfish ends. Right now, it’s time to fight for every promise everywhere, for every ounce of trust anyone ever put in anyone else.

Right now, it’s time to stand up to the world and show it what we’re fighting for.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

And holy. Fucking. CHRIST. When GIntama’s soul shines like a lodestone, when everyone comes crashing together in one massive army to fight for the light that’s worth believing in, for the promises that are always worth keeping, as so many characters from so many eras of this show come together united in a singular purpose and goal, do you know what the result it? The result is, no bullshit, the single most utterly hype clash of the entire fucking show. I’m dead serious; Yoshiwara in Flames may have had more emotional resonance in its brutal, personal showdowns, but it’s here that we get the Gintama equivalent of the airport scene from Civil War: so many characters we know and love all coming together to fight for their lives and show off just how fucking HAM they’re willing to go. And it. is. AMAZING. I was practically screaming from joy throughout the entire fucking battle. It’s so badass! It’s everything! It’s everyone being so fucking awesome all the time! It’s- I mean-

I mean, where do I even start? Kagura home-running a fucking cannon shell! Gintoki doing that thing where he’s so fucking pissed he doesn’t even say anything as he pummels the everloving shit out of you! And literally biting a goddamn sword into pieces with the force of his rage! The two police forces coming together in the “all is lost” moment to save everyone from the depths of their despair in the coolest fucking rescue ever! Tsukuyo jamming the cannons with her kunai! Kondo wrangling an excuse out of his ass as to why the Shinsengumi are legally obligated to fight Sadasada’s forces alongside the people they were supposed to be guarding for execution! Hijikata utterly losing his shit and bazooka-ing the enemy’s attempts to defy that logic into oblivion with the kind of savage glee Okita would have been proud of (”SORRY, CAN’T HEAR YOU!!”)! Sasaki literally shooting GIntoki with the antidote to Oboro’s poison! Freaking Old Man Matsuraida pulling his “I forgot two and three” running joke in the most epic “fuck you” to Sadasada’s hopes ever! Oh, and let’s not forget THE MOTHERFUCKING SHOGUN, the show’s most hapless side character, becoming an utter badass and chasing the Amanto away at the end with a single declaration of everything Gintoki and his allies have been fighting for all this time:

”Please leave. This is... samurai country.”

God. Just, GOD. THIS FUCKING SHOW, MAN. I’ve been blown away by it before, but never before has it left me this incapacitated with glee, squealing at every single solitary moment crossing the screen. Never have I been this overcome with pure childish joy, watching this massive cast I know and love all fight as one voice at the peak of their game, supporting each other and helping each other pierce the heavens with every jaw-dropping moment of triumph. You want to know why you lost, Sadasada? Because this is the raw, unfiltered power of who you decided to mark as your enemy. You never stood a goddamn chance.

I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR!

And on that topic, you know what truly sends this battle into the stratosphere of glory it so justly deserves? Not only it it a full-throated battle cry for just how fucking amazing this cast is, it’s also an undaunted, triumphant roar of triumph for just how fucking amazing this cast’s women are. Sadasada treated Suzuran like a tool, a disposable flesh bag he could cast aside the moment she was no longer useful to him. In his broken mind where everyone is beneath him, it is women especially who are the most deserving of his contempt. Which meant that he was doomed the moment Kagura and her veritable army of insane lady BFFs decided to take him on. His fate is spelled the instant Kagura, Nobume, and Tsukuyo all come barreling down upon the poor sods who are only just realizing the storm about to crash down on them, roaring their battle cry to the heavens: ”These women... have come to topple a country!” Because the women of this show are fucking AMAZING. They are the beating heart of this show in so many ways, consistently its funniest, most complex, most hauntingly real, and most endlessly endearing characters. Kagura may still be the undisputed queen of my heart, but this arc is a defiant, fist-pumping cheer for all Gintama’s fantastic leading ladies and just how goddamn special they are. 

For example, remember when Kagura literally made friends with the princess all those episodes ago, and that totally random adventure becomes the plot point that gets the Odd Jobs crew into the palace in the first place? And then you remember just how delightful her and Kagura’s chemistry was and you start gushing over their friendship all over again as they, too, were able to fulfill their promise of so long ago? But it doesn’t stop there: from her one-off character spotlight all those episodes ago, Soyo is developed into a fully fleshed-out character over the course of this arc as full of life and insanity as any of Gintama’s bit players. How fucking hilarious is it to hear her casually parrot Kagura’s occasionally skewed view of the world like it’s common sense (”And the glasses wearing the human is Shinpachi?” ”Then once this is all done, we’ll be grabbing your balls!”)? Not to mention delivering her knowledge of the backstory to the imprisoned Odd Jobs crew in the form of a sleepover bedtime story that puts Nobume and Kagura out like a light (”How boring do you expect it to be?!). And look at how much goddamn fun she had playing along with those same ladies’ brutal hostage game? A little girl smiling while stained with fake blood has never been more entertainingly peppy.

Speaking of Nobume, holy fuck am I so glad she’s made another appearance so soon. Her position as the Okita of the more elite police force, still as casually cruel as him but confident in herself enough to still be able to have fun with it, has her shooting so high up the list of my favorite characters in just her two short appearances it’s not even funny. How about how easily she offered to slice Maizo’s ass open (”This is pointier than a heel.”)? Or the fantastic comedic timing on her attempt to hide from Sadasada behind a banner with the doofiest derp face I’ve ever seen? Or her epic manly voice when trying to ventriloquist the unconscious Shogun? Or how she nearly gnawed Sasaki’s hand off in her eagerness to swallow his donut whole, his increasingly quietly desperate response to witch had me in goddamn stitches? Hell, she and Kagura managed to actually do the impossible together: they completely overwhelmed the usually unflappable Okita and laid him flat on his back in shame. I have never seen him get his ass handed to him like that, and it only drives home what goddamn inspirations these two idiots are.

And then there’s Tsukuyo, who, aside from the occasional aggravating groping gag, might be the best match for a certain silver-haired samurai in the entire show. What I really appreciate about her and Gintoki’s dynamic is that they’re both so good at getting under each other’s skin in a way that still keeps them on equal footing. They both get a chance to mercilessly mock the other for their “softness” in trying to do right by Suzuran and Maizo, only to get the rug swept out from under them when their own intentions are revealed. They both get a chance to be smug and flustered, because they tap into each other’s soft sides so comfortably. Hell, they can even trade sexually charged stupidity (”Oh, this hair was on her underwear!”) with ease and comfort (which only makes the groping gags that much more annoying, but whatever, I’m trying to be positive here). And I think that really is emblematic of just how fucking well this show does by its women. They are as ridiculous, awesome, idiotic, absurd, and spectacular as the men they sweat and fight beside. There was never any question that Sadasada was going to lose to them; the women of Gintama would never lose to someone as pathetic as him. Not when their own silver souls shine so goddamn brightly.

...And Promises Kept

And with the battle coming to a close, it becomes abundantly clear that we are stepping into yet another new era of GIntama storytelling, an era where all bets are even more off than they were already and the status quo we’ve come to know and love is no longer as stable as it once was. Massive players are on the move; the Amanto are preparing to increase their meddling in the Odd Jobs’ business, the Shogun’s got political enemies ready to cut him down and upset the power structure in Edo, and Oboro remains committed to tracking down and destroying the last of Shoya’s pupils while a clash with his former assassin teammate Nobume looms in the distance. And that’s all before Sadasada’s delusional martyr complex is cut down in prison by none other than Eyepatch Dio himself (”Say hi to Sensei for me.” God, that line chilled me to my fucking bone). Yes, Takasugi’s appearance at the end of the first Mimawarigumi arc was no joke: this terrifying fucker is officially back in town, and the moment I heard his voice underneath that hat, I literally started wheezing in fear. The past is truly starting to catch up to Gintoki now, all his old demons and monsters rising up to drag him down to hell with him. So much has been set up by the end of this arc, so many bombs waiting to go off in the near future to disastrous effect; the world of Gintama has never felt so precarious. There are truly no more limits now. Whatever comes next for the Odd Jobs crew, the scope and scale of their trials is only going to keep growing. I hope they’re all ready to fight like never before.

But that epic madness can wait. For now? We return to how this explosive, awe-inspiring, utterly transcendent arc all began: a single promise, made under the moonlight they wished would never end. With two people, finally able to see each other one last time. And this time, they can stay together forever. Suzuran and Maizo’s moon will no longer end. It will shine on them forever, in the heaven that Gintoki and his friends just made pure for them. Their blissful dream that seemed so fleeting in the nights of Yoshiwara? It will never end now. And neither will my tears, as the vision of Maizo carrying his reunited love up into the sky had me bawling like a goddamn baby. We went to the reaches of hell and back over the course of this arc, but at long last, in its final moments, we return to what truly matters. A promise, at long last, is kept. Because as Gintoki knows, as Kagura and Shinpachi know, as everyone who’s ever fought by his side knows... promises are always worth keeping.

And indeed, promises are worth keeping. Because against all odds, I’ve finally managed to get all my thoughts down about the Pinky Swear arc. Against all odds, I’m still able to express the love I feel for this show on my own terms. Against all odds, I’m still able to share it with all of you. This show... is a goddamn masterpiece. It’s a truly once-in-a-lifetime, lightning-in-a-bottle experience. It never stops surprising me, never stops impressing me, never stops making me fall in love with it all over again. Whether or not this arc was truly its best yet doesn’t matter. We’ve got just over 100 episodes left. 100 episodes left to share this joy with you all. And I’m going to relish every single moment of it. Thank you all so much for reading; it means more to me than you know.

And thank you, Gintama. You truly are everything I could wish for.

Odds and Ends

-”Oh sorry, my hind slipped. Probably because our nation is toppling over.” So is Hinowa just a more polite version of Otae because I am 100% down for that

-”What kind of technique is that?!” Well, RIP Gin-san’s balls for the 100th time.

-”The gorilla let out a little poop when he farted earlier!” “HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT?!” A fair question, all things considered.

-”Put on your execution clothes.” Kondo, you’re alright by me.

-”it’s your own fault for teaching dirty jokes to little girls!” Harsh but fair, Kagura.

-”You have fairies on your shoulders.” askjdahskd holy fuck

-”Everyone who wants to play Kick the Can, follow the finger!” WHAT A FUCKING CALLBACK HOLY FUCK

Holy fuck, my hands hurt from writing so much. Good thing it was all worth it. Oh well, see you all next time for the conclusion to season 2!

[forabeatofadrum]

It’s about time (1/24)

Are you ready for the @klaineadvent, because I sure as fuck am. Only this year, things will be different. Instead of picking a musical song to write a small random piece every day, this will be a series consisting of 24 short stories.

Kurt and Blaine met on the disaster that is Rachel Berry’s 21st birthday party. Little do they know that they could’ve met before. They could’ve met 23 times in their lives, but they never ran into each other. Here are the 23 near misses.

And of course, no. 24 will be the actual meeting. I guess one day will have two stories because I really want to keep the tradition of having tumblr!Klaine come back once a year (see: 2015 Ocean, 2016 Journey), but apart from that, it’s going to be this story.

Enjoy.

Klaine Advent 2017 Day 1: Attachment

Near miss one: daycare.

“Are you ready for this?” Burt Hummel asks his son. Kurt might only be three years old, but he understands what is happening. His mommy and daddy are leaving him behind. He shakes his head.

“I don’t want to go,” he says sadly.

“It’s not forever,” Elizabeth Hummel says and she squeezes Kurt’s hand, “It’s just daycare. Mommy and daddy will come to pick you up later. But now, you will be here for a couple of hours. You can make new friends!”

But little Kurt shakes his head and his eyes start to water. “No, you’re my friends.”

“We’re your best friends, bud,” Burt says, “But who says you can’t have other friends as well? This is the best daycare in the area. It will be fun.”

“Pinky promise?” Kurt asks his parents.

“Double, triple pinky promise, sweetpea,” Elizabeth says and the three of them make the most important pinky promise of their lives. Or at least, that’s how Kurt sees it.

Burt and Elizabeth take him inside and the daycare lady is nice enough to Kurt. They leave and Kurt watches them go before he turns to all the other kids.

“No.”

“Pamela, at least consider it,” Todd Anderson asks his wife.

“I don’t want to leave my baby behind,” Pam Anderson says, “Cooper never went to a daycare and he’s fine. Why does Blaine have to go away?”

“What if you’re not home?”

“Cooper can look after him. He’s twelve.”

Todd sighs and he takes his wife’s hand. “Pamela, I know you’re too attached to him. I love him too, but it’d be great for him. Besides, this is the best daycare in the area. It will be fun.”

But Pam stands up. Her decision is final.