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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 19 days

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Hello you amazing wonderful awesomely awesome person! I’m so madly obsessed with your work

Very curious on your thoughts on this: zombie apocalypse au

Do you think Jason and readers first meeting would be need to be more in a life threatening situation in order to stick or would they be able to meet in a calmer environment and stick together?

This isn’t a push for you to write any one shot! Just curious what you think and any additional thoughts or headcanons you might have for this au 👀

Tysm for continuing to put out awesome writing all the time!

The Death Stench

Ahh, asks like this is why I love taking requests!! Thank you, nonnie!! Seriously, so many great ideas come through my inbox that I never would have thought of myself! I was actually so excited when I finally sat down to write this. Sorry it took so long! :)

~1.4k words

Gotham has always been a cesspool of filth and rot. It's something Jason has long grown used to. But the hoards of groaning, decaying zombies are something he's still learning to live with.

It's been four– no, five months since the world fell apart, since the apocalypse broke down society. The government is in shambles, if it still exists, and Jason hasn't seen or heard another living person in weeks.

He thinks he owes his survival to whatever the pit did to him. The corpses that line the streets just seem to ignore him and shuffle past as he breaks into a little corner store for supplies.

It's why he's started to get complacent. It is so easy to not double or triple check your surroundings when the undead treat you like one of their own.

It's a fact he didn't realize until he's staring down the barrel of a gun and maybe the only other living, breathing person on Gotham.

He blinks at them. They blink at him. "You're not one of– you're alive," You half question, surprise and shock clear in their voice.

Jason slowly raises his hands, the last thing he wants to do is get shot when his medical supplies are dwindling, "I'm alive."

He stares at you for a minute, and you stare back before slowly lowering your gun, "I was here first."

He laughs. It's ridiculous. The world ended, he hasn't had a proper conversation in weeks, and you're trying to lay claim to a corner store in shambles. But, he steps back anyway and gestures to the ransacked aisles, "All yours then."

He quirks an eyebrow when you actually look panicked. "Wait," You start, and lower your gun completely, "I'm sorry, I just– haven't seen anyone in a while. I think I forgot how to talk to people."

You're both aware of the risk you took admitting that, to tell a stranger you're completely and utterly alone in this city, that there's no one waiting for you to return.

Jason has the overwhelming urge to make your risk worth it. He can't explain it, but he chalks it up to some form of loneliness.

So, he smiles at you, easy-going and every inch the charming grin that used to win over the old ladies at charity galas, "I haven't been around people in a while either. Maybe we can figure it out together?"

His heart stutters when you smile back, so clearly relieved. "I'd like that," You admit and holster your gun.

The two of you carefully pick through the store, and an uncertain but steady partnership forms between the two of you.

It takes some time, but he learns which shots you can make and which you can't. You learn which knee hurts him when he jumps over chain wire fences. You both learn to cover each other's blind spots, to trust each other to make decisions.

You haven't quite learned that zombies just don't seem to detect him, and he hasn't found a good way to bring it up, to explain that, 'Hey, I was dead and apparently I qualify as one of them. But don't worry! I won't eat you!'

Yeah, Jason figures you wouldn't be too comfortable with him sleeping near you if he said it like that.

He doesn't really get the chance to explain until he has to use his uncanny ability to blend in with rotting corpses to save your life.

It was supposed to be a normal supply run. Pick over what's left of a pharmacy and get out. Cut and dry. Something you've both done more times than you can count. Until it goes wrong.

He'd cleared the area, he'd been so careful, you both were. But you hadn't been lucky. It was no one's fault, when you open a cabinet and a skittish raccoon jumps out at you, sending you falling back.

The animal knocks over cans and boxes as it frantically scampers to get away. It's loud. Too loud.

The two of you froze, when the sounds of shuffling feet start to make their way to the door. Jason weighs his options, and the piece of his heart that had become undeniably yours won quickly.

He grabs your arm and hauls you to your feet. "C'mon," he mutters, dragging you towards a supply closet.

"We need to run," You say quickly, tugging at your arm and trying to push him towards the exit.

"We won't make it," he says firmly and shoves you into the tiny space. He follows you in and pulls the door shut. The door doesn't lock, and he reaches around you to grab an extension cable off a shelf.

"Jason," You half hiss, eyes wide as the groans start to get louder.

He shushes you, heart racing as he ties one end of the extension cord to the door knob, and the other to the metal poles of the shelf.

It's a start, but it wouldn't stop anything from breaking down the door. "Sorry," Jason mumbles. He returns your confused look with an apologetic one, and immediately crowds you against the wall.

He grabs the back of your neck to press your face to his chest. His other hand grabs at your hip, almost desperate. Jason realizes he hasn't been afraid in a long time.

He buries his face in your hair and silently wills you to understand. If he can keep them from getting your scent, hearing you, you'll be safe. He can protect you, he just needs you to stay like this, hidden and sheltered against the dirty wall of the closet.

He knows you can't begin to guess why he's doing this, but you don't make a sound. Your fingers curl into his jacket as the zombies shuffle around the pharmacy. Grunts fill the air as they pass by the door, and Jason feels you stiffen against him.

It's instinctual, when his thumb starts to rub back and forth across your hip. He wants to help, wants you to feel calm and safe even as the smell of death fills the air.

He's surprised when you do relax against him, tucking your face further into his chest. He's not sure how long you stay like that. His thumb never stills, and eventually, the sounds of undead fade, and he's left with just you.

Jason lets himself linger for a moment, savoring your closeness, before slowly untangling himself from you. "You're okay," he says softly, he means for it to be a question, but it comes out as a fact, a complete certainty that you are okay.

You look up at him, eyes wide, "How are we even alive? I've never seen– they've never just ignored people before."

He winces, "I'll– Let me explain. Please. Just not here." He deflates a little at the uncertainty that flashes across your face, but you nod and follow him back to the rooftop that's become his and your base.

He tries to explain, really, does his best to talk about the Pit, who he was, what he used to do. You never interrupt, you listen to every word he says as he lights a fire, methodically making food over the open flame.

You don't say anything as he admits the undead have never been interested in him, but you do let him sit next to you to eat.

He runs out of things to say, as the sun sets over a desolate Gotham. Jason thinks you're going to leave. Or ask him to leave. But you don't. You lean your head against his shoulder, and all the air leaves his lungs.

"I'm glad you're here, Jason," You tell him. And for the first time in a long time, Jason is too.

"I'm glad you're here, too," he echoes, and he hesitantly lowers his head to rest against yours. He breathes a sigh of relief when you don't move, only relax into his side.

Jason closes his eyes to bask in the moment, in being with you, and swears there's not a thing he wouldn't do to keep you like this. To keep you with him, to keep you happy, to keep you alive.

He thinks it might be the reason he's still breathing.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #zombie apocolypse au

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losing-it-lately · 3 months

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I Crumble Completely When You Cry

wc: 2k

eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

angst with a happy ending, best friends to enemies to lovers, regular upside down stuff, inspired by this one line in 505 by the arctic monkeys

You aren't dating him. You aren't friends with him. You both don't "talk". Eddie knows all of these things are true, he knows all of these things form the basis of your's and Eddie's relationship- if it can even be called that. But it's not enough. It's not enough to hold him back from you or to suppress that gnawing pit in his stomach or to stop old habits from coming back from the dead. He shouldn't have said that, but what's worse is he shouldn't have done what he did after.

Eddie remembers everything that happened between you two. Everything that went down exists in perfect clarity as if it replays over and over in his mind. And in a way, it does, he hasn't stopped thinking of what happened between you two ever since. And you haven't either.

Eddie would say that what happened started a month or two into the school year- when you finally got into cheer and had gotten through to the team. Wayne would say that what happened started right after Will Byers had been found. Steve Harrington would say that it started when Will was proclaimed missing, but you had always known that what happened between you and Eddie didn't start that year, but was bound to happen from the first day you had met him.

You had always known Eddie. Ever since he had moved into Hawkins, the small and buzzed boy had been on your radar. More than just your radar actually, you had grown the biggest crush on him. He was tall and lanky and unruly and silly and everything that made you grin in the schoolgirl type of way that you did when you got a new crush. Eddie was sweet and you did as much to look after him as possible. Leaving snacks on his desk when you noticed that he didn't bring lunch often, or conveniently losing a pen in the back of the classroom when he had forgotten one or even stopping close family friends like Steve from picking on him; you had looked out for Eddie as long as you had known him, it was bound to happen even when you got older.

At some point, you assumed that your crush would disappear or die out, and then everything would return to normal, but in the midst of Hawkins Middle School was the annual talent show, which changed it all. Eddie was obviously going to apply with his new band, a small group of tweens that he had collected from grades younger than him. However, as he began filling out the form, he hit a dead end. Eddie needed a name, and he needed one quickly. This was the last day to sign up and the members of the council in charge were clearly fed up with him waiting and stalling with the form. Eddie was freaking out. Him and his friends had done so much practice, and now, when he was practically finished, he could feel it all crumble in front of him. And then you walked by.

"Are you ok, Eddie?" He wasn't, and you were ready to do whatever you could to fix it.

As he explained his problem, you searched through your bag. English had just finished last period, surely you still had your dictionary.

Finally, you lugged out the large hard cover and began searching for a word to compliment 'coffin'; scanning through the 'co' page and reading out words until Eddie got you to stop.

"Corroded Coffin! That's it!" His grin was so bright, you couldn't help but mirror it, and you knew in that moment that you would be taking care of Eddie Munson for as long as you could, no matter what it took.

And that's how you saw it, especially after November of 1984. You had just started cheer, Eddie had started a Dungeons and Dragons Club that you frequented every Thursday and your grades were falling right into place. Life felt perfect in a way, and then Will Byers went missing. And you spent too much time helping Jonathan Byers. And then you got wrapped up into a government conspiracy.

You were in danger. White vans of men circling around you and the kids you looked after, every single communication monitored and the constant threat of something worse than mankind. It was an easy decision- you had to get Eddie away from all of this.

Will may have been back, but gates still opened, and the labs still checked on you, and you had nightmares and scars that you couldn't explain to Eddie without getting him involved. So you did what had to be done. Late December, after having ignored and avoided Eddie for what felt like forever, you cut him off.

It was a second nature to find Eddie in the midst of the trees and shrubbery behind Hawkins high. At his table, playing lazily with the old wooden planks and graffiti-ing more song lyrics and initials onto the bench where he sat. Eddie looked bored and desolate as you made your way towards him. Your nerves were working overtime and your eyes were bloodshot from the many nights without sleep, and while the pep talk from Steve helped, it wasn't enough to stop your hands from fidgeting and smoothing down the top of your uniform. Your uniform needed to be on for this to work, and the only way this would work was if Eddie bought it, if Eddie hated you.

The wind rustled through your hair and the leaves crumbled under you, one making a particularly perfect sound that alerted Eddie of your presence. As soon as he recognised you, a wide grin split on his face, the same one you had always known and the one you were about to begin to miss. You almost returned it too, the reflex being nearly too natural to bypass.

As he got up to hug you for the first time in a while, you began to speak. "I don't think we should be friends anymore," surely, if you were straightforward and neutral, this would be easier for the both of you?

"What?" His voice was small and shocked and soft. "What do you me-"

"I can't be friends with someone like you. You're a freak and I'm changing for the better." Your eyes began to gloss over. You felt dirty and cheap, using things that Eddie had told you during quiet nights over against him. How could the right thing feel so wrong?

"What are you saying," he began to laugh with a dry and quiet disbelief. Something must have been wrong, and in retrospect, Eddie would be able to see that, but for now, the sting of betrayal was enough for him to egg you on.

"You can't keep calling me, or talking to me, or even looking at me, Eddie," the tears were falling now, and your cheer jacket wasn't enough to shield you from that look in Eddie's eyes. It was one of pain and confusion and it was something you had never seen before. "I have a new life now."

And then his eyes changed and what you saw became worse. Frozen over, his eyes had become blank and lifeless, it was as if he couldn't recognise you anymore, and the truth was, you didn't recognise yourself either. But you needed to do this, to protect him.

"Fine. Fuck you," and so you left. You turned your back on Eddie and to him, you never looked back. You walked away all self-righteous and whatever and you broke his heart. Eddie Munson loved you and hated you. That's not true, Eddie Munson loves you, and he has to deal with the fact that you want nothing to do with him. For so long, he was overjoyed with just having your presence as platonic, but he should have prepared for not having it at all.

And you. Walking away with your back turned as if it wasn't harder than fighting those stupid demogorgons. Muffling your own sobs like you had when you were hiding with the kids in a random laboratory in Hawkins Middle School. Running faster to Steve's car once you had reached the Hawkins High Parking lot than you had when being chased by those special agents. Turning away from Eddie was the hardest thing you had ever done, but you had survived it, just barely.

You had made the right decision too. Closing the gate and shutting downs Hawkins Lab was one thing, and then the Russians re-opened the gate and brought out a fleshy nightmare to fight. Finally, it was all over.

The Government monitored you for a few more months, made you sign a massive NDA and transferred the largest sum of money that you had ever seen into your bank account. So you signed up for a job at the Family Video, covered your community college fees and bought a trailer in Forest Hills. You didn't mean to, but now you were living next to Eddie.

It had been years, it must be safe now to make amends. Eddie may not love you like you love him, but at least, you both could be amicable neighbours. You could see him putting out the trash and get a small and courteous smile. It wouldn't be like what you had before, but you could be content. So you baked him some cookies. His favourites had always been the brownie and chocolate chip chunk hybrid you made for his birthday. Your hand had a small burn and you cut yourself when you were cutting the chocolate, but you couldn't feel any of the pain when you saw him take the first bite of the cookie.

And so you did. You baked them and brought a warm batch over to Eddie's. You knocked after Wayne left and waited until a disgruntled Eddie opened the door. His hair was tied up in a bun and his eyes had circles and he wasn't wearing a shirt- he had definitely grown since the last time you had spoken.

"Hey," you started with a developing unease in your voice. How can you do this successfully? "I'm your new neighbour." You offered him the tray of cookies with a small smile as his eyes narrowed down into yours.

After years of ignorance and silence on your end, cookies were the solution. Bitterness and anger took the wheel and Eddie reached for tray and dumped them onto the porch. "You need to leave right now." His voice had hardened into something deep and furious and once again, you were taken back to the late December afternoon. But this time, Eddie noticed your foggy eyes, clouded over with a fresh onslaught of tears.

Your gaze was lowered to the cookies you had spent so long slaving over in the Hawkins heat. Crumbs were on your nice shoes and the chocolate was beginning to melt into the 'welcome home' mat. The trailer was a home for you. You kept falling into your thoughts, waiting for Eddie to slam the door in front of you, fuelled by his disappointment or his distaste or his detest, but it never came. Instead a calloused hand cradled your face.

You used to hold Eddie like this when he would cry, both hands holding up his face so that you could wipe the tears off, but Eddie had just realised that he had never done it back for you. He began to quietly hum and whisper, "sorry". His face had reformed into something less harsh, because under all the anger, he still missed you.

Once your eyes finally met, Eddie remembered what had happened between you, and his hands dropped. He shouldn't have said that or destroyed your cookies or held your face, but old habits die hard. Three or four years and Eddie still couldn't forget you. You cry once, and his whole resolve crumbled. You don't know about the ballads that he's written for you or campaigns in which you still make an appearance. You don't know that Eddie lied to Hellfire, saying he made you leave and you don't know that he moved Hellfire to Fridays to make sure that you could never come back without ditching cheer. You don't know how many times Eddie has thought about you in his arms, your face in his hands and you don't know about all the things he has done for you.

And now, you are so close, Eddie doesn't know what to do. You wipe your eyes. Your cheeks still burn from embarrassment and desire, you want him to hold you so delicately again.

"Can I come inside? I need to tell you about November of 1984." He opens the door wider to make space for you to enter. He needs to tell you that he's been in love with you since longer than that.

send me an ask if you want me to add onto this or make anything clear and reblog if you enjoyed this story! lots of love xxx

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notedgyanymore · 2 years

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Dp x Dc idea 💡

Jazz has been dating Jason for the last few months the bat family loves her, and she hasn't given any of them red flags to trigger their paranoia as to make them look into her past, so to them jazz just seems like a normal nice girl. Everything changes though when she gets custody of her younger brother, who according to her has spent the last six months recovering from an unknown disease in a specialized hospital in another country.

Danny unlike jazz is a walking red flag, you can tell in your gut that there is something inhuman and terrifying about him and now the bat family is scrabbling to find information about Danny and jazz's past which seems so far to be purposely erased in a way that is so efficient that it's as if it never happened in the first place. The bat family current theory is that Danny is some kind of monster/creature that has infiltrated Jazz's life and altered her memories and that she never had a brother in the first place this corroborates with the fact the while Jazz Fenton existence is very well documented by government, there's virtually no evidence of the existence of Daniel Fenton before he appeared the last month with a fake recently made ID.

The truth is Danny has spent the last six months recovering in the ghost zone from an attempted dissection courtesy of Jack and Maddie Fenton and was being taken care of by his ghost guardians/parents frost bite and clockwork, while healing he discovered the that he really likes "living" in the realms specially after a traumatic experience, not having to deal with humans feels great ! Anyhow, Danny decides that he wants to live full time in the ghost zone and makes a wish to Desiree so his identity both as Phantom and Fenton get erased and the only people who remember that he ever existed are jazz, Sam, tucker and of course the ghosts.

Jazz wasn't all that happy about the wish, but she understands that it is better that her parents forget Danny's existence, so they can't go after him again also making a new identity together seems easy enough. The reason why jazz got Danny's custody in the first place was because of the agreement she made with clockwork and frost bite that Danny should at least finish high school and get to complete his eighteen birthday on earth, and they were fine with this deal after all is just a few years and ghost children age much slower which means that clockwork and frost bite would also get to raise their kid.

Danny currently is very unhappy with the deal having to live on earth, specially on a city like Gotham, moreover having to deal with Jazz's terrible boyfriend and his family who are treating him like dirt. Well jazz isn't happy either, she loves Jason, but she will not stand anyone treating her brother this badly, so he better step up before he gets dumped.

Note : Out of the bat family, Jason is the one with the most antagonistic attitude towards Danny, the pits recognize him as a threat to their existence and activate a fight or flight response in Jason. He tries to be sneaky and not say anything bad about Danny when his sister is around, but Jazz knows what going on and is deeply disappointed. Also, after six months in the zone, Danny has gotten worse at hiding his ghostly nature.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #dp anger management #This is the longest thing that I ever wrote in English if it's a bit incomprehensive or nonsensical now you know why┐⁠(⁠ ⁠˘⁠_⁠˘⁠)⁠┌#Still #I'm pretty proud of myself.

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buckyarchives · 2 years

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Day After Tomorrow

pairing: bucky barnes x sick!neighbor!reader

summary: enhanced hearing is both a blessing and a curse. eavesdropping, loud music, footsteps and when your sweet neighbor has been coughing her pretty head off all day.

author note: i’m sick and binging twilight so blame that for this being created.

w.c: 3.6k

The last time Bucky remembers living on his own was – well never. Romanian doesn't really count in his mind because he definitely was not mentally aware then, not himself, on autopilot, whatever you want to say. Even before hydra and before the army, it was him living under his mom's roof and then a small apartment with Steve before he got shipped off to sleep like sardines in camps.

Then we all know what happened next. Pretty much getting coddled by Captain America, on a leash by the government, or asleep in a cryo chamber in princess Shuri’s lab.

So when Bucky finally got snapped back, a pardon on behalf of Steve Rogers – before he quite literally abandoned him. Sam was there at least, Sam didn't make him feel shitty for not being the old Bucky because Sam first met him when he was literally trying to shoot him in the head. So you can only go up from here.

Sam helped him find an apartment, Brooklyn was the only requirement, and he delivered. They went to IKEA, which is amazing by the way. Bucky thinks it's the best thing to come from the continent of Europe. They bought the necessities, a couch, a bed (it's been 6 months and bucky still hasn't touched it but doesn’t matter), a coffee pot, and one plant. It was a succulent and apparently impossible to kill, Sam said it would liven up his apartment. But it was hard to do that when his curtains were always shut.

The best thing about the apartment complex was it was mostly filled with old people, Bucky got along with old people well. And they were all pretty quiet and nice. There were a few other college students that lived there. Bucky heard they were all medical students and probably picked the cheapest place to live close enough to campus. Their music was loud sometimes and they stayed up late but minded their business for the most part.

Then there was the girl across the hall. He only saw you a few times, the first time he thought you were one of those beautiful girls he'd see in the magazines they smuggled on camp. You left your apartment at the same time as Bucky did, you had a bag slung over your shoulder like you were going to work or school. Bucky watches you intently, Sam would probably call him creepy for staring, but Bucky couldn't shake the fact you were the most beautiful woman he's seen.

And as you turned and gave him a small pursed smile, Bucky tugged his sleeve down. A habit from his anxieties, also the paranoia that everyone knew. “You just moved in?” you asked him, Bucky wasn't expecting a conversation now. But that was part of being a functioning human, so he gulped down the lump in his throat and curled into himself. Making him as small and less intimidating as possible.

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded, god this was awkward but he couldn’t even fathom anything else to say to you. He was horrible at this.

But you were a godsend of a human and gave him the warmest smile, “I'm surprised more people haven't moved in since everyone came back. We’re you– uh, blipped? Is that what people are calling it?”

Bucky wanted to smile, but it just didn’t translate from his brain to his body and he was scared it would look creepy. “Yeah, I was blipped. Were you?”

“No, I wasn't. But I’m sorry that happened to you, if you need any help re-adjusting I’m right here.” you offered, gesturing to your door. Bucky sucked in a hard breath, it was weird being offered help. Weirder for a total stranger to pity him for what happened, if only you knew the full picture. It didn’t stop from pulling at his heartstrings as he stood absolutely dumbfounded in front of you.

You weren't scared off though, despite how utterly awkward and creepy Bucky felt standing in there, shifting on his feet and not responding. He had to rack his brain for the words of gratitude.

“Thank you.” he choked out, and you just fucking smiled again and Bucky felt like he was going to cry. “And I'm uh- I’m James, by the way.”

“Y/N, Don't be a stranger,” you said, before bidding him goodbye and waving him off as you disappeared down the stairs.

Bucky probably stood there for another minute or two just kicking himself for how horrible he was at talking to girls.

Bucky only saw you a few more times after that, some stuck out for than others.

It was way too late to be up, but Bucky was practically nocturnal at this point, a fucking vampire that winced when Sam barged into his apartment to pull back the blinds so he’d get an ounce of vitamin D.

Bucky had a basket of all blacks on his hip, the complex has a laundry room since none of the apartments had one. You would put money in a little machine and it would give coins you could only use on another machine, not to mention they got jammed half the time and stole your money. Bucky thought it was stupid.

He stopped dead in his tracks at the bottom of the stairs. The familiar head of hair threw clothes into the dryer and slotted the coins into the machine, they didn’t get jammed. Bucky tried to ignore your presence, maybe it would have been more polite to greet you.

Throwing his clothes in the machine and followed the usual routine, except Bucky heard the coins trickle down and get stuck. Fuck. Bucky pressed the button with his gloved hand, mostly out of frustration. Nothing happened.

“Hey, let me.” a soft voice spoke from behind him, a light pressure on his shoulder as you touched him. Bucky tensed at the touch, you didn't notice but Bucky moved away from you. “These old things barely work anymore, you just got to give them some tough love.”

Bucky just watched as you banged on the machine, if Bucky did this he might have broken it. He heard the metal clink down and you pushed the start cycle and it began to work just fine.

“That's easy, huh? Lost probably a total of 10 dollars and I just needed to punch it.”

You laughed and it felt like heaven in his chest, “you just have to outsmart the machine.” you snarked, lifting yourself onto one of the vacant machines and waiting for your cycle to be done. You wore a small shirt and a small pair of sleep shorts. Bucky felt hot by the amount of skin you were showing. Fuck, what was he? 16 again?

“I’ve had a lot of doing that recently.” Bucky said, almost murmuring to himself but you listened.

“I bet, catching up on what? 90 years of technology – must be hard,” you said so plainly like it didn't make Bucky’s head stop. Popping his head up with a panicked face.

You did know… and you didn't run. Weird.

“You know me?”

You swung your feet innocently, a small grin on your face as you pushed your hair away from your face. Cute. “James, I had to do a paper on the howling commandos in middle school.”

“Really?” he asked, genuinely surprised. He sometimes forgets he’s famous for other reasons than being a world-renowned assassin.

“Yeah, and I keep hearing the two girls that live down on floor 2 gossiping about you.”

Bucky’s face dropped. “Gossip, huh? Bad or good.”

Probably bad, it’s always bad.

You bit your cheek, wondering if you should lie and spare him the horrid memories. “Mostly they were devising a plan to get the falcon– caps number from you. They also think you look like James Dean.”

Bucky knew James Dean. Pop culture wise he started in the 50s, so he knew him enough.

“I think that's the best compliment I've ever gotten,” Bucky said, a slight quirk on his lips. You hadn't realized how blue his eyes were until you started to get trapped in them, only being ripped away when the ding of the machine made you flinch.

“Well, I’ll make sure to relay your gratitude,” you said, throwing the rest of your clothes into the hamper.

Bucky wanted so painfully for you to linger and wait till his cycle was done, to talk to him about your day so he could know more about the mysterious, beautiful girl across the hall. Maybe you could walk back together, Bucky would offer to carry your basket because he does still remember to be a gentleman.

Maybe Bucky was just grasping onto the thought of not being alone.

but you smiled at him so warmly, waved, and turned your back but god- he just wanted to keep you in place. to stay. He wasn’t sure what came over him but he felt empty when you left. so weird.

Bucky finished his laundry in silence and made sure to lightly (light for him) bang on the dryer after he put the coins in.

it surprisingly didn’t take long for you to run into him again, in the lobby. laundry room, again. the halls and weirdly, he saw you ordering an iced americano at the coffee shop across the street.

you two became… acquaintances. That's how Bucky would describe it.

Bucky was not a creep, or a stalker. He was just caring and very curious. it was also kinda unavoidable with his super soldier hearing, but he heard everything. He's pretty much got a pretty good idea of your music taste, always some indie or punk rock playing during the day, softer music during the night. He heard 40s music once and almost went feral trying to hold himself back from knocking on your door.

He heard the television when you watch shows, or when you get into heated conversations with people over the phone (those get very interesting at times). Bucky had heard you having a life crisis as you shoved all your furniture around at 2 am and decorated the walls. He also hears when you have people over, oh how shitty he felt with himself when he realized you had a boy - a date over. jealousy was a newer emotion, maybe it was even envy.

and now as the winter season rolls around and the city gets colder, Bucky sometimes forgot about people getting colds or head flu. serum and all. Recently, Bucky's heard nothing but sneezing and coughing from his next-door neighbor. He was worried, is that creepy?

So much so that he ran down to the local Thai place, and he went there often. They had really good food. Bucky passed the bright red and green lights for Christmas, the snow coated the ground and he gained a few odd looks from passersby at the little amount of clothing he wore.

Bucky Barnes had a plan, you knew he was… enhanced. So the whole hearing you thing wouldn’t be that creepy? maybe. Either way, he was going to “coincidentally bring home leftover food that he will oh-so-graciously let you have while he makes sure you're not dying of a head cold.” because he worries

his hand hovered over the wooden door, a moment contemplating if this was a bad idea. but before he knew it the echoed sound of knocking filled his ears and he heard you padding your feet toward him.

Yeah, you looked horrible. red nose, bedhead, and dark eyes m. you looked incredibly pale too, there looked to be no life in you.

“hey, James!” your voice was raspy but you tried to sound cheery and happy despite how much you felt like dying as you stood up. “what are you doing?”

“I’ve been hearing you cough your head off for the past day, and I brought home some leftovers for you. Can I come in?”

you looked utterly astonished. your eyes glanced up and down and back at the bag of food. Bucky noticed the way you were swaying on your feet and grasping at the door frame. you needed to sit down.

“uh, yeah. I just- I don't want to get you sick.” you worried, but still moved out of the way slightly for Bucky.

“Don’t worry, doll. perks of that serum.” Bucky chuckled, your face relaxed and you showed him to your kitchen.

“Oh, right.”

Bucky followed and set the plastic bag on the counter, going through and grabbing the two containers of soup. He noticed the photos stuck to the fridge, pictures of you with friends and smiling wildly. his heart warmed. Bucky also didn’t miss the messy couch, from the fleece blankets, stray tissues and glass of sprite. you’d been officially camping out there for the last few days.

“Do you want something? tea, water, alcohol if you're in the mood.” Bucky turned around to see you reaching on your tippy toes for the cups. He jumped to grab it out of your hands and push you away.

“Hey, you’re sick. go sit down.” Bucky said, you frowned slightly.

“I don't want to be rude,” you whine.

“you’re not rude, you're sick.” Bucky pressed his hands to your shoulder and sat you down on the island's barstool.

“The lady at the Thai place said this could help with a head cold.” Bucky explained, pushing the soup towards you. He found the silverware drawer on his third guess. “supposably it’s jacked up on chili peppers and ginger, so it’s spicy.”

your hand shakes slightly as you bring it to your lips, “mhmm, good. you try.”

“no, it’s for you.”

“James, grab a spoon and try it,” you state, sliding the bowl over to the brunette.

Reluctantly, Bucky takes another spoon and brings the liquid to his lips. you laugh loudly at his reaction, he winced as the soup goes down his throat. coughing wildly at the spice.

“It’s not that bad!”

Bucky speaks through coughs, “I don't like spice.”

“more like can’t handle it obviously.” you snark, snatching the bowl back from him.

“poor kids in the 40s didn’t have much more than salt and pepper, doll.” Bucky says as if it's the most obvious thing ever. but it was hard to remember when he still looked like an attractive 30-something-year-old. You chuckle under your breath.

“Well, it’s time to build up to your tolerance, Barnes.” you bring the spoon up to his lips, and Bucky flushes a light pink. he hopes - prays that you think it’s just from the chili pepper.

Bucky shakes his head, “I'm not a masochist, eat your food. I spend the army’s good money on that.”

you smile at the light jab, letting the liquid run down your throat. a satisfied hum leaves you, Bucky makes a mental note to get you the dish again.

Bucky let you eat in peace, finding his way around your kitchen after having to reject your offer second to host him, again. he found the tea bags and kettle and started boiling water, as his hand grasped around the handle to pour the water into a “Ohio is for lovers” cup Bucky was hit with a weird distant yet familiar feeling. the feeling of normalcy and comfort he’s so avoided for decades.

it was the closest thing to how he felt in Wakanda, but better. because he was a charity case in Wakanda, this was normal. in a small New York apartment, caring for a sick girl by feeding her Thai food.

Bucky had to snap himself out of it before you started to get creeped by him staring daggers into your tea. his eyes shot up to you, your hand massaging your shoulder with a twisted face.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. just a knot in my shoulder from playing dead on the couch.” you laugh and wave it off, but bucky’s already rounding the island towards you. He motions to your right shoulder, tapping at your fingers where they dig into your skin. “oh no, it’s okay.”

“Just let me. I used to have to get the knots out of a young pre-serum Captain America once." Bucky says, digging his thumb into your shoulder. you instantly tense, Bucky lets off the pressure as you relax into him. slowly building it up. “Little punk had horrible posture, he’d sit on this bench in bridge park and just draw for hours while I did laps.”

Bucky laughs to himself in reference to the distant memory, he left out the part where he hid the fact he was exercising for the army — and hiding it from Steve. you smile warmly with him, “I can't imagine the shock of seeing your 5 '4 childhood best friends look like — like, uhh.”

“like Captain America?”

“yeah, like Captain America.”

Bucky hums, “well, I first saw him like that when he rescued me from the POW camp. was jacked up on hydra drugs and thought I was hallucinating,”

a soft mewl comes from your lips as Bucky gets his thumb around the knot in your shoulder, your head falls down onto his chest lightly and another moan leaves you. Bucky tugged at his bottom lip as he glanced down at you, gulping down his nerves and having to physically tear his eyes from you before he started to get the wrong idea.

too late though. you made a soft noise again and Bucky thought about what it would feel like to have you make more of these noises, but with Bucky's hands elsewhere. anywhere else.

“There, you got it. thank you.” you breathed a harsh breath and push away the half-empty soup.

“done?” Bucky pushed himself away from you.

“mhm.”

Bucky feels a weird sense of deja vu while taking care of you, it’s nice - deja vu - it means he remembers. remembers taking care of Steve like this. Bucky puts the dishes away, he’ll offer to clean them later. you're sipping at the tea he made, bucky's eyes glance to the living room. the television was paused in the middle of a movie, and your shoulder began to sag again.

“What movie were you watching?” Bucky asks.

“uhh,” you smile shyly, glancing from the screen to Bucky. “Twilight.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows, showing no recognition of the name. Once again you forget you’re technically talking to a 100-year-old man that probably was too busy being brainwashed to watch Twilight at the peak of its fame.

“oh! it’s some stupid vampire-werewolf movie, it was really popular like 10-15 years ago. kind of iconic.” you laugh quietly.

“perfect. you need rest and I need to catch up on the 20th century, yeah?”

“Where the hell have you been, loca?” you whisper under your breath, laughing to yourself at the stupid line.

Your head lay comfortably on the armrest of your couch, Bucky sat across from you and was currently being used as a footrest. He took the position proudly and traced circles into your calves, you tried to ignore the blush and goosebumps on your skin when he did.

“do you know every line?”

“My niece was obsessed with these movies when she was little, every weekend we had to rewatch one of them.” you scoff, “so yeah, kind of.”

Bucky snorts, scrunching his face up when Jacob shrugs off his t-shirt. “Also, why doesn't Bella just get over Edward and get with Jacob?”

The only women Bucky has genuinely feared in his life were his mother, Steve’s mother, and Natasha. you were suddenly added to the list when your gaze turned to him, mouth gaped open lightly as you looked at Bucky as if you were going to kill him.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asks innocently.

“Please don’t tell me you’re team Jacob.”

“Team Jacob?” Bucky wears his confused face again.

“Team Jacob and Team Edward. Which one are you on?” your eyes shoot daggers at him as he scrambles for an answer.

“I think Jacob.”

you open your mouth wide to argue, explain that their entire relationship dynamic and why Bucky is wrong. but you don’t, you just give him a death glare and slowly gaze back to the television. “you’ll change your mind.”

Bucky smiles. He thinks you’re cute, too cute. “Okay, who would you date?”

without skipping a beat. “easy. Carlisle.”

“Really?”

“mhm, but Jacob with the long hair is really hot.” you smile, “shame he cut it.”

“So you like a guy with long hair?” Bucky teases, ready to exaggeratedly brush his hair behind his ears to tease you more. then remembering he cut it. shame.

“Maybe,” you smile. “didn’t you have long hair?”

“used to.”

you look at him intently, like you were imagining him with the grown-out brunette hair. other than the fleet pictures and videos you saw of him on the news back in 2014, when he wore a dark mask and even darker eye makeup.

you hum contently, like the image pleased you. “You should grow it out again.”

Bucky felt dizzy when his eyes met yours, he couldn’t pull away even if he tried. “maybe.”

nodding, you were content with that answer and gazed back to the screen. by the end of the movie you were dead and passed out and those plans to get him caught up on Twilight would have to resume later.

Bucky thought for a moment. If the first person he grows a normal, non-superhero, 21st-century relationship with was you. He'd be happy ending up here, not grief and trauma filled with Steve leaving and what hydra did. no — maybe, grateful even if it was just moments like this with you.

Gently, Bucky laid another fleece blanket over you and did your dishes, put away the leftovers, and turned the screen off. it was weirdly domestic, it warmed his chest.

if Bucky wanted to be hopeful for once, maybe he would try for something more than just neighbors or acquaintances.

feedback and notes make the world go round, thank you for reading <3

tag list: @ivywasmaroon @ozwriterchick @slytherinambitious @wintermischief @silverfire475

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky fic #sebastian stan #bucky fluff #bucky x female reader

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strawburry01 · 6 months

Text

Northern Attitude

Summary: The team goes out to a small Montana town facing a random string of murders pointing to a new cult forming in the woods around town. Only once they get there does Hotch realize he recognizes the assistant chief for the town force- someone from his university days.

Word Count: 3k

No smut just angsty, maybe not entirely canon compliant but nothing crazy.

Authors Note: Let me know if folks want a part 2 (you may get one anyway, but my brain hasn't decided yet), or any one offs from Hotch and the characters time in uni. I have ideas...

It was another cold morning in your room. You refused to go to bed if it wasn’t comfortably cocooned in at least three blankets, but it did mean getting out of bed in the morning was particularly dreadful. You groan as you stretch your back hearing it pop as you twist. Eventually, you push yourself out of your warm pile of blankets and pillows to take a shower to wake up and start the day.

You worked as an assistant chief in your small Montana town. Things were slow for the most part. Nobody beyond the average population, except for the summers when the tourists came in for hiking and camping, but even then, it was never too much. A few rambunctious teens some nights, the occasional robbery of the convenience store downtown, a random carjacking every other month, but this had all come to a screeching halt when a random string of murders popped up over the last few weeks. Unfortunately, based on the scenes and your analysis, it seemed cult related, bringing a lot more attention, specifically from the government, to your once quaint town.

Shuffling back to your room after your shower you throw on your average attire, black slacks, blue button up, and boots. Being a woman in a small town police force wasn’t easy, but you’d done your time. It only took a few cases before the men started realizing you meant business, and often would run the opposite direction in the office whenever they saw you walking in with a bad mood knowing you would make their life a living hell. Graduating from university with both electrical engineering and criminology made you stand out when you entered the workforce all those years ago, but the quiet side of you still yearned for silence and a work life balance, which is something you did get all the way out here. Well, at least before this all. You’d been working overtime every night into the late hours trying to figure out what you were dealing with. All you had was your bed every couple hours at night before your brain would wake you up again with a flood of new theories and ideas. You’d be happy when this was over, for all the reasons.

You jump into your truck and quickly blow onto your mug of coffee to cool it down as you head out to the latest scene. You swear out loud as you nearly spill it onto your lap as you take a turn too sharp. You crank the volume of your radio up to help wake you up and try to put you in a good mindset. You never tried to come to work in a bad mood, in fact you tried to come in on the cusp of being annoyingly positive and cautiously optimistic. You knew this line of work was easy to get sucked down into and spiral, you’d seen it before, hell you lived it before when you were fresh out of university. It’s what got you out working in a big city, or for a bigger federal office.

You pull into the parking lot alongside the other police vehicles that had already shown up for the day. This latest murder scene was unfortunately in an empty field behind an abandoned high school. Definitely not creepy at all, you thought to yourself as you got out and eyed the several busted windows on the second floor. You grab your backpack and mug as you make your way to the tent set up with the team’s temporary office with laptops and files from the case.

“Morning boys,” you hum as you step underneath the tent, observing the open screens. You get a few ‘good mornings’ back. Some of the guys had been working since the scene was called in and you could tell. Dammit you should have brought coffee or doughnuts for them.

“Cheers boss”, one of the officers, Carter, sighs to you as he walks into the tent, clinking his coffee with yours. Carter had always been one of your favorites, he was young, wide-eyed, but still meant business. He’d grown up in the area so he knew all the folks like they were family. You let out a small smirk as you sip your coffee, starting to map out the plan for today.

You’d have to scour the entire field. And the entire school. You didn’t want a single potential lead or clue or mistake from them to be lost. The team would hate it but it needed to be done.

“Alright team find a friend and meet back here in ten minutes. You’re going to be split between the school and the field and I need all of it thoroughly searched. Heard?” you said, leaning on the table facing the team you had. They all nodded or chirped back a complaint which you laughed at, “you got ten minutes to warm up”.

You leaned back on the front of your truck as you took out a cigarette and placed it between your lips. Lighting it up you stared out into the field. Dappled with yellows and oranges, you can’t even see the ground through the wheat and piles of ancient dirt. Why here? Any other day this would be beautiful, but knowing a murder happened right here made it such a tragic scene. There’s a crackle of gravel from an incoming car behind you. Probably the chief coming in, albeit uncharacteristically early since he usually stayed in the office until things got really hairy. You sighed as you let a cloud of smoke out of your lips, staring up at the sun. Your phone buzzes against your hip and you lazily slide it out before checking it.

It’s a text from the chief. “Federal Bureau coming in today. Play nice.”. Your stomach flips. FBI? Well shit. Also how rude of him not to text you any earlier than right now. “Who?”, you texted back. You see the cursed three dots pop up and down a few times before the text actually sends. “BAU”. You nearly drop your cigarette out of your mouth at your jaw dropping.

As if on some otherworldly cursed cue.

“Y/n?” a terribly familiar voice says from behind you. You take a sharp inhale, before taking out your cigarette and turning your head, trying to look charming as hell.

“Hello dear Aaron,” you say with a smile on your face, seeing the man who’d been stuck in your thoughts since the day he left your side.

It’s his eyes that never changed. They still scrunch up as he smiles at you.

“I didn’t know this was your town,” he said as he moved beside you. You look up at him, placing your cigarette back between your lips and shrugging with a smirk plastered on the side of your face. You catch his eyes quickly flickering over you, just as you look over him. He used to be skinny, studious, almost a nerd, but the man that stood in front of you now was built, stern, and serious.

“I got told a few seconds ago that you’d be here at all. Chief keeps me on my toes,” you remarked, internally thinking about how you actually wanted to wring his neck for not telling you sooner.

When you woke up this morning you did not- in a thousand years- expect Aaron Hotchner to show up at your work. At your crime scene. It was a tumultuous mix of excitement, nerves, intrigue, and still a bit of anger. You hadn’t seen him in years, let alone reached out. Ever since ending on a sour note you never tried, mostly because you knew he wouldn’t respond- not out of spite but just because he was so busy and focused on work. It was admirable, but also so annoying.

“You smoke now?” he asked, snapping you out of your mental musings. He was eyeing disapprovingly the cigarette still hanging in the corner of your mouth.

“You wear contacts now?” you retorted, raising an eyebrow. He sharply laughed and looked back to his team as they approached.

“Have for a while” he said, turning back to you.

“Haven’t known for a while” you snipped before throwing your cigarette butt onto the ground and smashing it out with your heel to free yourself to meet his team. “We’ll talk later Aaron” you said with a nod which he nodded back to, ending this conversation, knowing more pressing things existed than-

your-

university-

situationship-

showing up again in your life.

Aaron’s team pops up behind him and brings you back to focus. Dammit there was a murder on your watch and you could only think of this fucking man. Grow up, you swore in your head as you forced a customer service smile onto your face.

“Team this is y/n l/n, a friend from university,” he said as he gestured to you. He couldn’t make eye contact when he called you just a friend. You noticed two of the men on the team elbowed each other, no doubt in shock their boss actually had friends outside of work at some point in his life.

Aaron introduced you to his team and you tried to run through their names in your head as you shook their hands. You were terrible with names. Agent Reid was the twiggy one who looked perpetually deep in thought, Agent Morgan was the one with the tight black shirt who who had an air of confidence about him, Agent Jareau was the sweet blonde who acted like the unofficial mother of the group, and Rossi who was the tired old dad of the group. I’m sure Aaron loved being bossed around by him, you thought to yourself as you shook his hand. He seemed nice, but Aaron had never been one to not be the one in charge- the little control freak.

You brought them to your tent to introduce them to your folks, trying to get everyone on the same page with daylight burning. Later than expected due to the guests everyone was ready to actually start looking through the field and school. You felt Aaron’s eyes on you as you told everyone to pair off, but you nabbed Carter before he could object.

The search of both areas wasn’t as successful as you had hoped. The school had some ominous latin scribbled onto the walls in red, which had been determined to be blood on the scene, although it wasn’t the latest victims. Reid had somehow been able to translate the latin- you could see in an instant why they kept him around.

“So what’s the deal with you and the FBI guy?” Carter asks when you get to the smack dab middle of the field. Your neck hurts from craning over the ground, trying to not let a speck of earth go unseen.

“What do you mean?” you ask back, not looking up as you continue scanning the ground.

“I’ve never seen you flustered,” he quips as he pauses, “you actually like-I don’t know it was just weird” he said and half heartedly shrugged as he looked back at the group that had begun to reform by the tent.

“It’s complicated,” you said, knowing that the young adult in him would eat the drama up. Sure enough, he perked up.

“Yeah? What is it? You got an ex?” he said, nudging you.

But that was the problem. He wasn’t an ex. He wasn’t really an anything. He was a friend, sure, but friends also didn’t make out in the corners of parties as much as you two had. And friends didn’t stay up until sunrise testing each other for the upcoming exams every single finals week. And friends didn’t invite each other to spend weekends at their family vacation cabin alone.

“No, no, no, just-” you tried to explain to no avail, not even knowing how to justify this to yourself, “okay maybe,”. Carter let out a low whistle.

“Hey if my ex showed up to work I’d be flipping the fuck out, you’re handling this really well,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. You chuckle at the kids joke.

“Sometimes it’s just nicer to see a familiar face, you’ll get it when you’re older,” you said, knowing hated when you pulled the you’ll understand when you’re older card. He rolled his eyes and groaned.

Once the sun started setting you made your way back to the huddle that was forming of everything theorizing and laying out the evidence. Tomorrow would be busy in the office working to get everything categorized and bagged. You leaned up against your truck again, just like you did this morning, and pulled out another cigarette, flicking the lighter onto the end. You waved your team over and told them to head home for the night. You knew a lot of them had families at home, and you tried to be respectful of it all, even if you didn’t have your own. Some of the security officers watching the spot for the night stayed and mingled with the BAU team a ways away from you, and you settled your sights on the pink hue of the clouds as the sun lowered.

A familiar body moved next to you. You didn’t have to turn to know it was Aaron. You blew a cloud of smoke out the other side of your lips and stayed quiet, waiting for him to start. He had his hands jammed in his coat pockets, his shoulder grazing against yours. People used to laugh at the height difference back in university, and it had only gotten worse it seemed, or at least Aaron walked around with much more presence these days. You were leaning up against the front grate of your truck and felt Aaron slowly move his arm behind you, holding onto the grate on the other side of your hip. Feeling his arm behind you felt so familiar.

“There’s Latin at the other scenes too,” he said, facing straight ahead into the sun.

“Shit,” you said as you slowly nodded, realizing that the scribbles would not just be nothing. There was a moment of silence before he broke it again.

“Do you hate me?” he asked, glancing down for a second, but long enough for you to meet eyes before you looked away.

“You know I could never hate you,” you said begrudgingly, knowing it was the truth. His arm got closer to your back at that and you leaned further onto it, “it’s really annoying honestly” you halfheartedly laughed. You heard him laugh under his breath. You swallowed your pride and leaned in, resting your head on the side of his torso, letting out another cloud to try and soothe your nerves.

“It’s nice out here,” he said, looking out at the sunset still which had only gotten deeper pink and orange.

“ ‘S quiet,” you agreed, “I don’t know how you do it in the big leagues,”.

“You know you could’ve too,” he said, looking down. You stayed staring straight ahead.

“I’m not doing this argument again Aaron,” you said curtly, as you eyed him back. He shrugged and turned away again.

“You know you could have that’s all,”.

“You ever think I’m okay with it out here? You ever think I don’t need to kill myself over every case with the fate of the world hanging on it?” you said, raising your voice a little.

“I’m just saying you were one of the best and you could do a lot in the bureau,” he said back, “in the BAU,” he tested. You let out an angry air of smoke from your cigarette.

“Dammit Aaron don’t do this again,” you said, cutting him off before he can say anything else. You throw your cigarette onto the gravel and kick some rocks over the smoldering residue, “I’m happy here, can’t you just be okay with that?”. Aaron watched you and sighed and shifted in his spot, taking the second to move his hand from the car to your waist.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he said, and he meant it. You sighed.

“I’m not going to be able to convince you to stay huh?” you asked, trying to joke, but inside you really did mean it earnestly. His thumb rubbed your side. It had been a while since you felt like this.

“I don’t think you’re able to,” he responded, sadness tinging his voice. The two of you stood, leaning into each other watching the sun finally dip behind the hills in the distance.

A few yards away Morgan stood on the phone, peeking around a car before ducking back. Garcia was not going to believe this shit.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #bau team

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unicornsacorn · 4 months

Text

wild kratts headcanons

feeling very drained so I'm gonna just ramble off some headcanons I think are funny

*Martin was in charge of picking up Chis from school and once he knew Chris wasn't paying attention he'd blast any and all music at top volume just to mess with him

*During a team sleepover Jimmy had been accidentally left outside and was locked out for 5 minutes, he still hasn't forgive everyone yet

*Martin was often left in charge of Chris when his parents had to go out of town, They would spend all night watch TV and nothing but junk food

*Jimmy does smoke weed but because the others don't like the smell he smokes outside or waits till everyone is asleep

*Chris did try smoking weed with Jimmy, but he found it made him over think to the point where he was trying to redesign the CPS, Martin wasn't happy about that

*Koki is so good at sewing and embroidery to the point the boys always bring they're gear to her specifically, so she can make little animal embroidery on the inside of they're gear

*Zack is so close to his mother he makes it a point to call her every Sunday around noon, everyone knows this and doesn't plan or do anything in those hours

*Aviva has a bit of a sweet tooth when ever Jimmy does some baking she's always the first to try his recipes

*Zach does have a crush on Chris but denys it, but he's not exactly subtle about it so Chris takes every opportunity to flirt with Zach just so he can see him get flustered, Martin just wants to go home during these times

*The ability for Chris being able to sleep anywhere is something he kept from his college years during cram weeks, the team gets very concerned when they caught him sleeping in a tree

*The reason the team sleeps in hammocks is because they're easier to clean and take less space than an actual bed

*During flu seasons Both Jimmy and Martin will fight tooth and nail not to get shots, it'll take an hour and bribery just to get then to sit down. It takes Chris has to hold both their hands to get them to calm enough to get the shot.

*The Tortuga gang can drink and often have drinks together during peaceful nights or after very stressful nights. Martin would always joke that Chris and koki were too much to drink, earning him a quick shoulder punch or an eye roll

*After the Chris bot incident the brothers joked that with the CPS they could be actually power house villans if they wanted too, Aviva knowing they were joking but not taking the chance locked the CPS for a week while she worked on fails safes in case that happened

*The Kratts have been sued by many poachers after either interfering with they're hurting or for the brothers attacking them after they've been shot at. In actual court the poachers always lost when the judges sided with the kratts for way reasons including, they were poaching on government protected land and it's very clean to tell actual animals from those that look blue and green and can talk

*Mama Kratt makes it a her responsibility to call her boys every week and for them to visit her every mother's day. When they visit she always has they're favorites ready and showers them in so many kisses the lipstick wouldn't wash off for a month.

#martin kratt #chris kratt #wild kratts #headcanon #wild kratts koki #wild kratts aviva #2d martin kratt #2d chris kratt

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

Text

Daily Ficlet 7

I’m challenging myself to write a little ficlet every day, using the prompts from this list. Today’s prompt is recipe book.

Steve finds Wayne in the hallway, pulling what items he can from the closet there.

"Need some help?" Steve asks as Wayne struggles with a bigger box that seems wedged in pretty good.

"Sure. Just get yer hands up here and ready to catch," Wayne answers, shimmying the box to and fro while Steve moves to follow his instructions. The box isn't by any means light when it falls into his hands, but it's not the heaviest thing Steve's had to catch -don't think about it, don't think about Eddie's limp body awkwardly shoved through a gate. Don't-

"Thanks, son," Wayne climbs back down the stepladder he was on and takes the box from Steve' hands, walking down the hall to place it on the counter. The front half of the trailer is missing, the gate took it, but a decent amount of of the trailer remains (Eddie's room remains) and the government has finally allowed Wayne to return to pack up what he can.

It's better than starting over completely.

"What's in the box?" Steve asks, because it's the only item Wayne hasn't just demanded he load into the moving truck outside.

"It was supposed to be Eddie's graduation gift," Wayne says softly. "'Suppose it'll have to be a 'glad you woke up from yer coma' gift instead."

"Yeah," Steve says, even if he doesn't believe it. Eddie's been asleep months now. They saved the world, killed Vecna, closed the gates, Max woke up, and the kids have started Sophomore year; Eddie remains comatose. "Can I get a sneak peak at the present?"

"It's not much, and ain't nothin' new," Wayne says, opening the box and beginning the process of pulling things out. It looks a bit like the contents of a hope chest. Things to start living on your own with. Robin's mom has one for her that Steve's seen, and even contributed to. There's an envelope of $500 tucked along the side of Robin's chest.

"This was his grandpa's. My dad's," Wayne says, pulling out a belt buckle. "And my ma made this, not for anyone in particular, mind you, but just because she liked to keep herself busy." It's a blanket, thick and a little scratchy when Steve touches it. "And this. This is the most important." Wayne pulls out a binder from the bottom of the box, handing it over to Steve for inspection.

He takes it carefully even though it looks sturdy. Holding it in one hand, he flips it open. He was thinking maybe it would be a photo album or something but it's not. It looks like a recipe book. All the recipes are hand written on looseleaf paper, with post it notes sticking out randomly. "What makes this special?"

"That's his mom's handwriting," Wayne smiles but he sounds sad. "Eddie lost her when he was five. She got real sick, y'know, and never got better. But she wrote out all them recipes. I'm amazed Al kept the thing, but I guess I shouldn't be. No real value in a binder of recipes 'cept to the people close to the author."

Steve looks back down at the binder. He still has both his parents, however distant they might be, so he doesn't know if he'll ever fully understand the significance of getting this piece of someone back. "Does he not have anything else with her writing on it?"

"No, not writing. We got plenty of things they used to own. Eddie's caseworker let us go through the whole house, after Al'd been shipped off to the penitentiary, to gather anything Eddie might want or need. Was supposed to just be his stuff, mind you, legally speakin', but I think that lady knew if we didn't take other stuff, Eddie'd never see it again.

"So, Eddie's got things that were hers. But nothing that's uniquely hers. There's jewelry, and a coupla blankets, but all that stuff is replaceable and not... Well, I dunno what I'm tryin' to say, but that's just stuff that was hers. But this. This was her. Y'understand?"

And Steve does. There's a difference between having something that belonged to someone once, and something that really feels like them when you hold it. Steve doesn't have anything like that, personally, but he knows there will come a time when the difference matters. When everyone grows up and scatters into the future. He imagines a hand written letter from Dustin will mean much more for him to find after a long time of no contact than it would to find his old Roast Beef t-shirt in the back of a drawer or something, moth bitten and musty.

"I can't wait to find out if Eddie's an angry emotional, or a sad one."

Wayne laughs. "He can be both."

#wayne and steve #daily ficlet #just a lil thing for if eddie lived but didn't like... live #bittersweet #my fic

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unhetalia · 5 months

Text

England headcanons (pt. 1):

Chain-smokes like a motherfucker. Alfred, who doesn't smoke and pretends very hard to think smoking is disgusting, hasn't yet realised where his secret smoking kink comes from.

Currently works for British Intelligence/has infiltrated his own government.

Carries around either a cane or umbrella that hides a sword even though he has never ONCE had to use it. He just feels more comfortable having a sword. (He does also carry around a gun, which, in contrast, has been used often.)

Also carries around his own pen, and absolutely loathes the thought of using someone else's. The pen is a first edition Michel Perchin Serpent in Champagne LE Fountain Pen given to him by Alfred - only ten were ever made and it cost a cool 8k. While Arthur has more valuable things - especially from his time as a pirate and back when he personally knew his royal family - the pen is still one of his most prized possessions.

His favourite tea is actually French Earl Grey - which is Earl Grey with rose petals. Not actually French? But Arthur's still pretty annoyed about it.

As mentioned in a few of my other posts - Arthur is incredibly physical and has kept up with sword fighting and various martial arts over the years, and regularly goes to the gym. He's very disciplined about it.

Tends to eat only for fuel as opposed to enjoyment whenever he's left to his own devices.

If pressed, Arthur will admit his best friend is Francis. Francis would say the same about Arthur.

(Despite their individual body counts, Francis and Arthur have never slept with each other.)

(Arthur doesn't have a lot of friends and has a strained relationship with his siblings, and has always felt that people don't like spending time with him. Even when he was on top of the world, working with his government to become an Empire, he still felt like an underdog.)

On that note, Arthur worked with his government longer than the other Nations, and was a huge part of establishing the British Empire. It made his already fraught relationship with his siblings even worse, and he regrets a lot of it.

Nations get scars very rarely, because very few things have the ability to give them scars - magical weapons is one of those things. Out of all the Nations, England has the most scars.

England is amazing at knitting and crochet, and he gifts Francis crocheted figurines from French cartoons for his birthday every year, which Francis adores. He also knits Canada scarves and gloves and beanies whenever he remembers him.

One of Arthur's most embarrassing memories is getting gonorrhea during his pirate days. He didn't have sex for a month after his healing kicked in - a record back then - and he became a lot more diligent in procuring and using the linen sheaths they used as condoms at the time.

Three of Arthur's back molars are implants made of real gold.

Alfred is the first (and last) person Arthur will say he's ever fallen in love with BUT the closest he's come is with another American - a nurse that took care of him during World War I. She was blonde and blue eyed and once shouted Arthur down when he insisted on continuing to fight even with a bullet lodged in his shoulder. She completely disappeared in April 1917, just before the Americans officially joined the war. He sometimes wonders what happened to her.

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weemsfreak · 1 year

Text

Surprise

Larissa Weems x fReader

Larissa hasn't been herself lately, and to make things worse, she's nearing 50.

Happy ending, ~3.9k words

Warnings: Suicidal ideation, depressed and tired Larissa

You knocked on the large wooden doors to the principals office, awaiting the sound of a voice that would bless your ears. It was the middle of the school day, she had to be here. When no response came, you decided you'd try the handle, and you walked in unexpectedly being greeted by nobody.

You made your way cautiously to the desk, which held nothing on its surface- except for a calendar.

December 2023

Tuesday - 'Rogers birthday'

Friday -'My birthday'

You weren't surprised that Larissa was keeping track of birthdays, she was in charge of planning them, after all. When a staff member at Nevermore had a birthday, Larissa would plan a social for the end of the work day. Like today for instance, you would soon be heading for cake, a little gift for roger, and perhaps a few drinks with the other teachers. Oddly enough though, you hadn't heard mention of a social on Friday. You focused on the calendar slot where Larissa had written 'My birthday'. December 8th, you committed to memory, that was her birthday.

Rogers party was enjoyable. The cake was rather yummy, and the staff had a few laughs together. "So, any more birthdays coming up soon? I could go for another cake" Roger joked after thanking Larissa for the party. Larissa tilted her head in thought, "Um, no. Not until next month." Some teachers let out a sarcastic huff of disappointment, but you took in the woman before you, confused.

Her face told you otherwise, it told you that she had lied, rather well, but not well enough.

Her face told a story, that maybe only you could read, of sadness, rejection, and loneliness. Perhaps Larissa didn't like the attention, or perhaps she didn't like parties. Perhaps she was scared of getting older, many people were.

You have only recently, about four months ago, became part of the Nevermore family, but you were quick to feel accepted and become enamoured with the woman. You and Larissa weren't very close, but that was likely because you were far too shy around her. Still, you thought that Larissa deserved to celebrate, she deserved to celebrate herself.

When the social came to an end, you pulled Vlad aside and asked if he had ever attended a celebration for Larissa's birthday, to which he shook his head no, and said that he was sure it was in the summer, because nobody had ever mentioned it.

That night you did a little digging. Probably, most likely, definitely too much digging. Did you go too far with things? Sometimes. But this was important, this was important to you.

You called your friend who worked for the United States government. "You want to know someone's birthday, huh? What are you doing, planning a party?" You laughed, why else would you want to know someone's birthday? "Larissa Marie Weems. Yes, I found it. Born in England, came to the United States in 1989-" "Okay Bri, I don't need her whole history" you interrupted. "Sorry, sorry. Her birthday is December 8th, 1973. Well, according to her file, anyway" she chuckled. You thanked your friend before hanging up and getting to work.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Larissa had not been herself lately. Weather it was due to her slow recovery, the betrayal of a supposed friend last year, the school being in shambles until some months ago, or her blatant loneliness, she didn’t know. Perhaps it was everything. She had not been herself since, well, since when? Who was she, exactly?

The headmistress of Nevermore, the girl who stayed in the same place mentally, and also physically, most of her life? The girl who loved, and lost, but was never loved back, was never lost in return. The girl who studied, excelled, travelled, and then came back. The girl who stayed, she was always the girl who stayed.

And now she was a woman, nearing 50, who still stayed. She stayed in her mind, full of trauma, deaths, and, you guessed it, more trauma. She stayed in her school, in her home, which was starting to feel, unsafe? Unlike a home, unlike her. She stayed in her thoughts, which were heartbreakingly also starting to feel unsafe.

Ah yes, she was nearing 50. And after all of these years, so, so many years, she thought that she may have a friend by now. A real friend, perhaps a partner. Someone who didn't abandon her willingly, or die on her unwillingly. Someone who wouldn't try to kill her for their own benefit.

She didn't know, had no clue actually, what she would do, what she could do, to get someone to like her. What was so wrong with her, she thought. What was so wrong with her that nobody liked her? She wasn't ugly, although she could be insecure. She could be scary, mean, authoritative, it was her job, her demeanour. But, she could also be sweet, loving, kind, caring, helpful, she knew that she was all of those things.

Deep down, she knew. Deep, deep down, she knew she wanted to love, she had SO much love to give. Alas, it seemed nobody wanted to give it back. So, she spent her years taking care of the younger generation, hoping and praying that none of them would turn out like she had. Depressed, lonely, full of defeat, trauma, self hatred and, love. She spent her time trying to bury her thoughts in work, in late nights, in wine, under a façade, but deep, deep down, she wanted out. She no longer wanted to be the one who stayed.

She stared at the calendar which was now on her coffee table, haunting her as she downed another glass of red. December 8th, a day that her mother had brought her into this world, this nasty, cruel, unforgiving, hateful world. This beautiful, tearjerking, progressive, lovely world. December 8th, the day that her family rarely celebrated. December 8th, the day that she rarely celebrated. God she loved that day, and at the same time, she absolutely resented it. She really, really dreaded that day, for it was a day that Morticia had ignored and belittled.

____________________________________________________________________________________

December 6th, 1990

"Happy Birthday Tish!" Larissa smiled, greeting Morticia in the quad at lunch. "Thank you Issa" Morticia replied, wrapping her arms around the taller girl. Larissa held a small box out to Morticia, "I got you something." Morticia took the box and sat down, Larissa sat across from her. Morticia opened the box and found a small black bracelet that Larissa had made especially for her. The beads were made of obsidian and onyx, with an 'M' placed in the middle. Morticia slipped it on and took Larissa's hand, "Thank you Issa" she said, as she blew her a kiss. Morticia then turned her attention to Gomez and a few other girls at the table. "So, I was thinking Saturday, we invite everyone to my room and then down to the quad for my birthday celebration!" Gomez agreed, and the other girls quickly followed up with fun things that they could do to celebrate. "Tish?" Larissa spoke quietly. "Cara Mia?" Morticia replied. "My birthday is Saturday, remember?" Morticia's eyebrows furrowed before she faked an expression of surprise. "Oh, right. Well, can you celebrate Sunday? Or another day?" Larissa looked down to her lap and fidgeted with her hands as she pondered Morticia's words. Another day? But her birthday was actually on Saturday, Morticia's wasn't. "Well, can't you celebrate yours tonight?" Morticia laughed, "No Larissa, Thursday isn't a good day for a party." Larissa nodded in agreement, although she didn't actually agree. Larissa smiled as she came up with a great idea. "Well, can we merge our parties on Saturday? We can celebrate together!" Morticia frowned at this idea, why would she want to share her party? "I think we should celebrate separate love, we can have two parties. Mine will be Saturday, and yours can be Sunday." Morticia went back to planning her party with the others as Larissa sat there in silence and defeat. She knew that nobody would want to celebrate on Sunday after having a big party on Saturday, she knew that nobody would come, not for her.

As it was, Saturday Larissa celebrated Morticia in their dorm, but rejected following them down into the quad. Some people wished Larissa a happy birthday, but Morticia, did not. Larissa celebrated that night, alone in her room with a hot chocolate and a pastry. "Happy birthday to me" she whispered, as she blew out a candle and let smoke fill the empty room.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Yes, December 8th was a day for Larissa, and perhaps that's why she felt dread. She was nearing 50, in 3 days, to be precise, and all she wished for was, well, was to die.

She wished that her mother never had her, she wished that she had not lived through everything she had, alone, so utterly alone. She wished that it wasn't a day that she could resent, she wished that it wasn't a day that Morticia could make her hate. She wished that it wasn't a day at all, for maybe it didn't have to be.

Oh how ironic it would be, to perish the same day on which you were born. Like Shakespeare, letting every word she had said become nothing, and every word she had never spoken become something. It would send a message, but to whom? To whom did Larissa have to send a message? And so close to Christmas, at that.

Larissa loved Christmas, well, she used to. It was so warm, so cozy, so breathtaking, so…heartbreaking. She didn't have a family, but perhaps if she did, she might actually come to like her birthday, the winter, the holidays. She might drink hot chocolate and sit by the fire and feel safe, she might feel okay, she might feel loved. She might not sit at the Weathervane alone, as everyone went back home for the holidays. She might not sit in her office by the fire, downing red and eating cookies that she baked herself, by herself. She might not walk through the snowy filled streets and let the glow of the artificial lights wash over her with tears in her eyes and nobody by her side. She might not stare down at the snow and see herself as a child, building a snowman and smashing her friend in the face with a snowball. She might not loathe the fact that she was who she was, and the fact that she was born on December 8th. Because when it all came down to it, her birthday, Christmas, and every single other day of the year, time was time. Time was fake, time was long, time was tears, and time was wrong. Time meant nothing, if she allowed it to mean nothing.

Yet she didn't, she allowed it to mean something. She let it mean something. She let it make her wish that she hadn't been here, that she wasn't here now.

That night she pondered over life, and death, and she came to the conclusion that she wasn't who she once was, nor was she who people were led to believe. She came to the conclusion that Nevermore would suffer without her, without their headmistress. But, she had one wish, one birthday wish.

Let it, she thought, let it suffer, for she has suffered enough for everyone. ___________________________________________________________________________________

When Friday, December 8th came, Larissa awoke with a heavy heart. She sat up in her bed as tears fell like bricks into her lap, and her hands trembled as she knew what they would soon be capable of.

Still, she went throughout her day as Principal, one last time. She greeted the students in the hallways, one last time. She made sure that her affairs and the schools affairs were in order, one last time. She shapeshifted and walked through the school, taking in everything that she could, one last time. And, she cried over Morticia's photo, one last time.

She settled down in front of the fire with a glass of wine in her hand and a hot chocolate, indulging one last time. It was only 4 in the afternoon, but she was tired, she was so incredibly tired.

She closed her eyes and laid her head back on the sofa as she thought about her birthday. Nobody had wished her happy birthday, nobody knew it was her birthday, nobody except you. But she didn't know that you knew, and as she thought about dying on the same date that she was born, she smiled, for nobody would know.

"Larissa!" you almost screamed, barging into her office frantically. Her eyes opened in a panic as she shot her wide gaze to you. You almost lost your act as you took her in, sitting on the sofa with wine and hot chocolate. Her office was clean, cleaner than usual, and she looked so tired, had she been crying? It was only quarter after 4, what was she doing?

"We have a problem, follow me!" you said in a hurry, ushering her up and out of her office. Larissa followed behind you as your pace quickened, and she rolled her eyes at the thought of having to deal with one of Nevermore's problems, one last time.

As she followed you through the halls, she watched your pace slow and your worry fade. You ended up walking beside her, and taking her hand in yours. Part of your brain told you that she might not follow, that she might know that there was no problem and run away. Part of your brain told you that maybe she didn’t at all want to celebrate, and that she would reject the surprise party and leave in tears.

Still, you held her hand as you stared up at her, your panicked act fading into a large smile. Larissa was so confused as to why you were holding her hand, and smiling at her? She looked down at your no longer panicked face and her eyes met yours, they were, admiring? You looked happy, joyful, loving, and maybe, maybe you were hiding something.

As you both neared the staff room Larissa stopped dead in her tracks. "What is the problem?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows at you. "It’s in here, come" you said, slowly opening the door to the staff room. You walked in slightly, enough to be able to turn on the lights, and Larissa stepped beside you. "I don't see a-" "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"

Everyone shouted and jumped up as you flicked the lights on, and you winced when you watched Larissa jump back in surprise. Larissa's mouth dropped open as she scanned the room, her eyes wide in shock. As you looked up at her expression your heart sunk a bit, for she didn’t look grateful, she didn't look like anything. Surprised, she was, but not happy surprised. "Larissa?" you whispered, and she whipped her head around and bent down to you, putting on a faceless expression. "Is this okay?" you asked hesitantly. Larissa blinked a few times before she turned to the room of people. Her staff were staring at her expectantly with smiles on their faces. She noticed a cake on the middle table, decorations, and a birthday sign that said 'Happy 30th!'

She began to walk slowly into the room, taking you with her. Once she got to the middle table, Larissa slowly but surely smiled. She took a deep breath and looked down at you, before looking around to all of her staff. "Thank you all" she said, bringing her other hand to her chest and laying it on her heart. Teachers then walked to her one by one and gave her a hug, saying happy birthday to her personally. You took that time to reach into your bag and dig out a birthday sash that read 'Birthday Queen'. You walked up to her and she laughed when she saw the sash, bending down to your level so you could slip it over her head and onto her body.

The party kicked off with everyone singing happy birthday to her, and then she blew out many candles on a chocolate cake that read 'Happy Birthday Larissa!'. You pulled out a bottle of her favorite red, which you knew she had already been drinking, and poured her a glass to go with her cake. When everyone finished eating, they socialized and played a few games that you had set out, and you took this time to finish her card.

You sat her down again and presented her with it. When she opened the card, it was full of small messages and signatures of everyone on the staff. Larissa scanned all the names before deciding that she would read the messages later tonight. You watched as a tear escaped her eye, but she was smiling. Your heartbeat quickened before it rested, happy tears, you thought. She looked around at everyone as she wiped at her eyes. "Thank you all so much. I haven't celebrated my birthday in so long."

“We didn't know when your birthday was Larissa, I thought it was in the summer" Vlad chuckled. Larissa giggled and sighed, "I know, I kept it a secret." Larissa then furrowed her brows and looked around at her staff, "Wait, how did you all find out?" Roger instantly gestured to you and smiled, "Y/N found out." Larissa looked down at you and tilted her head in question as a blush spread on your cheeks. "Y/N planned the whole party" Vlad added. The woman pouted her lip as she took your hand in hers. She smiled and squeezed your hand as her eyes watered, "Thank you darling."

The party went on and your heart clenched at the sight of Larissa enjoying herself with the others. You didn't know if she resented you for telling everyone about her birthday, but you were glad that she was celebrating herself. You were relieved, in awe really, you hoped that your digging and planning meant something to her.

When the party was over and most people left, you started cleaning up the room. Larissa stayed with you and started to clear the tables. "Larissa don't worry about the mess, I got it" you smiled. She waved a hand at you dismissively, "Nonsense darling, let me help you." After everything had been cleaned up, you turned to her nervously. "Happy birthday Larissa, I hope it was enjoyable." Larissa smiled down at you and whispered a thank you. She then paused, "Come with me, will you?" You nodded and followed along.

She led you to her office where she gestured for you to sit on the sofa. You placed your bag on the floor and turned to her. "How did you find out that my birthday was today?" she asked. You chuckled in embarrassment, "I saw it written in your calendar."

Larissa's expression turned to one of joy as she laughed and shook her head, "Sneaky girl" she mused. You reached into your bag and pulled out a small box with her name on it. Larissa looked at you in shock as you held it out to her. "I didn't know if you liked celebrating, or if you even liked your birthday at all after you said that there were no more staff birthdays this month" you chuckled. "But, I thought that you were worth celebrating Larissa, so I got you something."

You held the box out to the woman as she stared down at you in awe. Her breathing was rapid and her eyes were teary once again, and you thought that she might not take it. You reached for her hand and placed the box into her delicate palm, "It’s not much, sorry" you smiled.

Larissa looked down at the box and slowly began to open it. Inside she found a bracelet, made with beads of Moonstone and Lapis Lazuli, a birthstone for the month of December, and the color of Larissa's eyes, you noted. In the middle of the bracelet there was a bead with the letter 'L'.

Larissa brought her hand to cover her gasp when she realized that you had made it yourself, all for her. As tears spilled from her eyes, you had no idea what was happening. You also had no time to say anything before the blonde woman wrapped her arms around you and pulled you tight against her. You felt her sniffle and cry into you, and you nuzzled your head into her as you began to stroke her hair. You didn't know why she was reacting like this, but no matter, you'd comfort her any day, you'd do anything for her, any day.

You let Larissa cry into your shoulder for a few minutes before you pulled back, and your eyes met her mascara stained face. "I love it" she whispered. You smiled and nodded. "I usually resent my birthday Y/N. Nobody ever celebrates with me and I, I have some bad memories." Larissa sniffled as she pressed her forehead to yours. "I'm sorry Larissa, I just thought you deserved to be celebrated." Larissa furrowed her brows, "Really?" You cupped her face in your hands, "Yes, really" you whispered.

Larissa stared into your eyes, perhaps she was trying to read you. She paused, and then she gave in. "I haven't been doing too well, darling. This time of year is lonely, and it's always hard for me, and I-" Larissa didn't get to finish her sentence because her voice wavered and tears fell again. You wiped them from her cheeks with your thumbs as she tried to told them back and her gaze fell to the floor. "Look at me Larissa" you whispered. Larissa again met your eyes hesitantly, and it was confirmed, you were right. She was sad, she was lonely, and she wasn't herself, but "I'm here for you. I will be here for you Larissa, please allow me to help you." Larissa let out a sob as she pulled you into her again and found comfort in your neck. You kissed her on the cheek and breathed in her being, as you felt tears fall from your own eyes. "I wanted to celebrate today Larissa, because, I'm so glad that you were born, I'm so happy that you're here. I'm so grateful for you, beautiful. I'm so, so proud of you."

Later that night, Larissa sat in her quarters, reading the messages that her friends had written. She pulled you tight next to her as she smiled at the bracelet on her arm, the bracelet that you had made her. Larissa realized that she did have people who loved her, in one way or another. She realized that she did want to live, she just didn't want to live alone. She came to the conclusion that you had saved her from herself that day. Such a simple gesture from you, a woman that hadn't known her that long, your observation and attention, and your thoughtfulness and love, had saved her.

You kissed her forehead and pulled her face closer to yours, winking. “Happy Birthday Larissa, 50 looks good on you." Larissa smiled and scoffed playfully as she returned the kiss to your nose.

Perhaps December 8th didn't need to mean anything, anything bad or traumatic, at least. Perhaps time didn’t mean anything, perhaps it didn't need to, if she didn't allow it. Perhaps she was the one that stayed, and perhaps you would be too.

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #principal larissa weems #wednesday netflix #gwendolineuniverse #lesbian #principal weems #larissa weems fanfic #so gay omg #larissa x reader #larissa in her feels #larissa weems x reader

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 10 months

Note

this might be weird to ask on a writing blog but do you have any manga recs?

yeah i got some recs! i'm gonna assume you mean less talked about titles rather than more well-known but quickfire popular recs i have are: chainsaw man, fullmetal alchemist, jjba, fruits basket, jjk and hell's paradise. but onto my other recs:

seinen

children of the sea**: a troubled teen named ruka embarks on the summer adventure of a lifetime after meeting two boys raised by dugongs at her dad's aquarium in the middle of a mysterious event taking place in the ocean.

the summer hikaru died: it's been months since yoshiki's childhood friend and secret crush, hikaru, went missing in the mountains for a week. hikaru's the same as usual, with his jokes and silly rambles and yet, yoshiki can't shake the feeling that whoever came back from that mountain, it wasn't hikaru. much to his horror, it wasn't. but rather than face reality and grief, yoshiki decides to play along with "hikaru's" act (body horror)

dorohedoro**: in a world where there are humans and magic users, humans have it rough being virtually treated as second class citizens. day after day, year after year, magic users come to the human realm to experiment on them with their magic. and after having his head turn into a caiman, kaiman, wants to get it back in blood and have his true form restored (body horror)

witch hat atelier*: in a world full of magic and witches, it's always been normal human girl coco's dream to be one. but after accidentally discovering a truth of this world and her mom getting caught up in the spell, coco becomes an apprentice of witch qifrey. (it was recently announced there's an anime in the works!)

skip & loafer**: desiring to become a government official to revitalize her hometown in the japanese countryside, iwakura mitsumi's first step to accomplish this goal is by going to a uni prep high school in tokyo. she's got a foolproof 10-step plan to boot! but of course, life hardly ever goes as plan, not even for a prodigy (mc's aunt has great trans rep)

jousei

sign of affection*: as someone deaf all her life, yuki has dealt with discrimination in both small and broad strokes. nor has she ever experienced romance. this all changes when she meets backpacker itsumi, a guy who goes to the same uni. just as he opens her world, she opens his

debu to love to ayamachi to***: after waking up in a hospital with no memories to her name, plus sized yumeko is told she is there after surviving a suicide attempt. the thing is, yumeko isn't sure why when she's just so beautiful! with a strong desire to live life to the fullest, yumeko decides to do everything the past her was to afraid to do. all the while it is revealed that her suicide attempt was more of an attempted murder... but who could have wanted to kill her?

my love story with yamada-kun at lv999**: nothing is worse than getting cheated on especially after akane invested a lot of time and energy into her shitty ex's gaming hobbies. but through gaming, not only does akane find herself healing, she managed to get herself a pretty cool boyfriend too

NANA**: 2 women, 2 different lives, 1 name shared. komatsu nana is quick to fall in love and after a series of less-than-lucky relationships, she finally has someone she thinks is the one. abandoned by her mother and her ex leaving her band, osaki nana hasn't had the easiest life. but on the same night, on the same train, these two women meet and their lives become deeply intertwined

shoujo

a condition called love*: when it comes to romance, hotaru's never experienced it besides stories of her friends relationships. but she soon finds herself about to experience the whirlwind of a lifetime when hananoi, the most popular boy in school, asks her to be his girlfriend

a bouquet for an ugly girl***: as her class' resident big girl, hana isn't expecting a blossoming spring in her high school career. and she's okay with that. she has everything she needsー otome games and gardening. but after her class' pretty boy catches her in the midst of changing the class flowers, their lives become a bit more intertwined

uruwashi no yoi no tsuki: yoi is quite popular at her school because of her neat short hair, beautiful face and overall princely appearance. in fact, it's gotten her dubbed 'prince' many times. but when the other prince of the school finally meets her, cupid's arrow quickly knocks him on his ass

shounen

frieren**: a manga that picks up after the journey has ended. the demon king has been defeated and the heroes have saved the day after 10 years of traveling together. 10 years? that's not even a 10th of elf mage frieren's life. but as her companions begin dying one by one of old age, she finds herself desiring to learn more about humans and the short yet impactful lives they still manage to have

dungeon meshi*: when a dungeon raid goes terribly wrong and laios' sister gets swallowed by a dragon, those that remain in his party decide to get it back in blood by saving laios' sister before she gets digested. in the mean time, there's nothing wrong with gordon ramsay-ing miscellaneous ingredients found in the dungeon along the way, right?

and if you like manhwa or would be down for some manhwa recs these are titles i don't see getting recommended enough

concubine walkthrough: a scifi & philosophical spin on the otome isekai genre that asks 'what is reality truly?', 'is your life any less real if you found out all your experiences were a simulation?' and 'what is reality to you?' where protagonist lee yona finds herself stuck in a VR edition of a game she only played once

a wicked tale of cinderella's stepmother: usually when someone wakes up in the body of a villainess, she's the same age as the protagonists. mildred, on the other hand, is stuck in the body of this story's cinderella's stepmother. with no husband and three daughters to take care of, there's only one thing she can really doー build up her daughters' sisterly bonds with one another and make sure they marry into good families (or that they can at least live lives they're happy with)

tricked into becoming the heroine's stepmother: at least mildred got the body of an important character, daisy on the other hand? she's in the body of an NPC you never even see in the story. bright side? this is a story she helped write and after meeting the presently six year old protagonist's father, she and father of the year decide to team up for the ultimate mission: making sure his daughter never meets any of the love interests

inso's law: ham dan-i is in a bit of a pickle when she wakes up and her new school uniform is completely different than the one her mom bought weeks ago. there's a drop dead gorgeous girl next door who claims to be her childhood best friend. even worse, like something straight out of a drama, there are four heavenly kings that rule her school. by the end of the day, dan-i has no other choice but to accept the fact........ her real life has somehow turned into a web novel. even worse, she's a side characterー the main character's best friend

webtoons

plum: in a world where fruit stacking is a major sport, little plum decides to be the very best like no one ever was and moves to the big city to compete in the fruit stacking games along with making some friends and rivals along the way

webtoons that are probably popular enough if they have hardcover copies at my local bookstore but i wanna talk about it anyway

cursed princess club: as the youngest princess of the pastel kingdom, gwendolyn loves her family. her protective papa, her oldest sister maria who often awakes to woodland creatures doing her hair. her older sister lorena who makes flowers bloom with her every step. and her younger brother jamie who's so pretty, he sparkles. and they adore her just as much. but things come to a very reality shattering halt when their father introduces maria, lorena and gwen to blaine, lance and frederick, the princes of the plaid kingdom and gwen overhears frederick call her ugly, something she's never heard in her entire life. somehow, gwen finds comfort in a club full of cursed princesses (and one prince) who teach her how to start loving herself again

key

*) receiving an anime adaptation

**) has an an anime series or movie

***) receiving an anime adaptation & contains a story with a plus-sized protagonist that doesn't involve weight loss

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suzukiblu · 11 months

Text

Day ten of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

The waitress comes over with another steaming mug of hot chocolate for Kon and Tim awkwardly orders not-Robin's-coffee-order, which since he's panicking he defaults to Caroline Hill's usual for. She's a med student, she drinks enough caffeine for his tastes. And also she likes extremely sugary drinks, which is definitely to his taste.

Look, Robin can't drink an iced brown sugar oat milk espresso with six extra pumps of syrup and four extra shots of espresso, especially in front of the exact teammate who would tease him the most mercilessly for having a finicky drink order, but Caroline Hill can drink anything she wants, and Tim Drake is just gonna be channeling her for this conversation, he guesses. Her Twitter account already got him here to begin with, so he might as well.

“That is a concerning amount of caffeine in one drink, dude,” Kon observes with a raised eyebrow instead of teasing him over either the syrup or oat milk, which is not actually what Tim expected to hear. But, well, he's not Robin right now, so maybe Kon isn't feeling the same urge to start shit that he usually seems to.

Tim's not sure how to feel about that. But Robin is, technically, an “authority” figure and a fellow superhero, and Tim Drake is just some guy, so . . .

Actually, Tim doesn't really know how Kon gets along with civilian guys. He's seen him flirt up plenty of civilian girls, obviously, but he doesn't really seem to talk to all that many guys. Like . . . ever, actually.

Weird, he thinks, repressing a frown.

“How would you know, you're Kryptonian,” he says.

“Half-Kryptonian,” Kon says, then waves a hand around the café. “And like, you know, also this entire planet is full of people who can just tell me these things. Five thousand milligrams is the minimum lethal dose of caffeine for a healthy adult, which is something like seventy-five shots of espresso, but more than four or five shots in a day is still not gonna be great for you, and you just ordered six.”

“. . . how the hell do you just know that off the top of your head?” Tim asks, blinking at him in absolute bewilderment, and Kon smirks in smug amusement.

“Dude, I was programmed by exhausted grad students pulling six months straight of all-nighters,” he says, pointing at his own temple. “I know every possible thing there is to know about every possible caffeine delivery system. Including the illegal ones and the ones the government hasn't yet realized should be illegal.”

“Huh,” Tim says, still more than a little bewildered. That does make sense, he guesses, but since Kon's already told the team he has absolutely no useful background in any kind of science or math past the absolute kiddie-level basics when they were all exchanging information about all their personal training and experience, it's still a surprise to hear. Shouldn't Cadmus have prioritized an actual education over things like safe caffeine intake for baseline humans, especially since Kon's safe intake level is probably different from a baseline human's anyway? Which–well, he guesses Kon did get cracked out of his cloning tube early, but still. They at least should've been building up the basics for him. Like–more than the kiddie-level basics, he means.

Cadmus is definitely not capable enough to be in charge of Kon. Like, at all. Ever. Tim has fewer and fewer regrets about this whole plan every minute, in fact. If anything, he should've started drafting it the day he met Rex Leech, never mind the fact that Kon hadn't technically existed yet at the time. Or after the Poison Ivy incident, maybe. At the least he should've done up an outline or two after he and Kon and Bart had helped Suzie escape recapture and then collectively lied to the government about it.

“You work for those guys, right?” he “asks” as Kon takes a sip of his new hot chocolate, because while the best time to start this whole plan was months ago, the second-best time to start it is now. “Project Cadmus?”

"Yeah," Kon replies, looking a little surprised by the question. Tim reminds himself to con the team into brushing up on the superhero version of stranger danger, because Kon answered that question way too easily. "Well, just started to. I'm a field agent. How'd you know?”

"I've done some research on you since we first met," Tim says, which isn't even a lie; just some careful phrasing. "I really appreciated what you did for me. And to be honest, I think we'd get along."

"Oh yeah? Tell me all about it," Kon says as his posture shifts a little and he flashes him the kind of smirk he normally reserves for, well . . .

Huh, Tim thinks in vague bemusement.

Kon's flirting with him.

. . . huh.

Not actually the angle Tim was intending to take here, but . . . well, he's not above taking it. And anyway, Kon's just a flirt in general, so it's not like it means anything.

Admittedly Tim hasn't actually seen him flirt with a guy before, but presumably Kon's just feeling out an opportunity to experiment or not ready to be out to the team yet. Tim's not, so he'd hardly blame him for that. Tim's not even out to Steph.

And he's definitely, definitely not out to Bruce.

Well, ideally he'll be a supervillain before that becomes necessary, assuming his life goes to plan.

Robin was always going to be a temporary gig, after all.

"I don't know," he says, and lets the corners of his mouth curl up in amusement. "You just seem like my type of guy."

"Your type of guy?" Kon says, his smirk widening as he leans in towards Tim, who decides to pretend that particular bit of flirtatious implication was actually intentional. Tim is . . . not all that great at flirting, admittedly, but it's not like Kon has particularly high standards past “didn't explicitly tell me to fuck off”, so Tim figures he'll be able to get by for long enough to have this conversation.

Not much longer, but all the same. He has a plan to pitch, that's all that actually matters here.

“Yeah,” he says. “And I wanted to thank you for saving me, so . . .”

“You wanna thank me, Tim Drake?” Kon asks with a slower, wider smirk, leaning in a little more again, and Tim instantly turns bright red as he realizes how that actually sounded.

Yeah, okay, he is actually the worst at flirting. Fuck.

“Uh, yes!” he says quickly, very much needing to clarify that statement before his stupid fucking hormones try to talk him into maybe just . . . leaning into that particular miscommunication a little. Not the goal here. Definitely not. “I mean–being a field agent doesn't sound particularly lucrative? And I know being a superhero isn't.”

“Lucrative?” Kon blinks, expression turning puzzled. “I mean, I guess not. I don't need that much money or anything, though, I just live at Cadmus these days.”

“You live in a lab?” Tim says, letting himself sound as incredulously horrified as he felt the first time he heard that. “Why?”

“I dunno, saves me a commute,” Kon replies with a shrug. “Also, like, it's not like I have a credit score to get my own place with. Or a legal identity. Or, you know, money. Landlords tend to want those.”

“Hm,” Tim says. “Do you want one?”

“Huh?” Kon wrinkles his nose in confusion.

“Your own place,” Tim clarifies. “I really would like to thank you. I could help you get a place.”

“Uh, thanks? But I still couldn't afford rent, even if somebody cosigned for me or whatever,” Kon says, looking puzzled. “I really don't make that much.”

“No, I mean I'd pay your rent,” Tim explains, which is in fact an insane person thing to offer somebody, admittedly, but it's not like Kon has all that reliable a grasp of normal social mores. “Or just buy you a place outright and pay your property taxes. Whichever you'd prefer.”

Kon blinks. Tilts his head.

“So like, you're just a very extra dude, huh,” he says after a moment, his eyebrows slowly raising as he pushes his sunglasses up into his hair. “Like you're the guy who blows the budget on the friend group's Secret Santa out of the water every year.”

“Possibly,” Tim says, putting on a sheepish smile. Kon laughs and folds his arms on the table, looking amused.

“You wanna buy me an apartment?” he asks. “What, just for saving your life?”

“I really think you're undervaluing that particular achievement,” Tim says.

“I think you're overvaluing it,” Kon replies with another laugh. “No offense, but I didn't do anything but block one lousy bullet.”

“One lousy bullet is enough,” Tim says, and doesn't think of any bodies he's seen. Kon tilts his head again, then takes a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Okay, fair,” he allows. “But I'm bulletproof.”

“I'm not,” Tim says.

“You were as long as I was touching the same floor as you,” Kon replies with a shrug, and takes another sip. “It wasn't like I did anything hard.”

He hasn't actually said “no” to the apartment. Tim's pretty sure that's just because he thinks he's either ridiculous or just not being serious, but he's not above pressing the advantage anyway.

“You didn't have to do anything at all, though,” he says. "And buying you a place wouldn't be all that hard for me either. Besides, you deserve a little gratitude for your efforts, don't you think?”

"Sounds like supervillain talk, dude," Kon says, his mouth quirking in amusement around his next sip. Tim resolves to dial back on that at this point in his career. He's laying groundwork, yes, but subtlety is still the wiser course of action.

"You say that like you've never socialized with a supervillain before," he counters dryly.

"Well, usually ones who wear a bit less," Kon replies, lowering his mug to grin wickedly at him. Tim figures if a little more flirting might soften him up on this whole idea, well . . .

It's not the most altruistic thing he's ever done for a plan, admittedly, but if it works, it works.

"So you're telling me I should invest in a crop top before I try to take over the world and remake it in my own image?" he asks still more dryly as he raises an eyebrow at Kon with a little smirk, and Kon laughs and leans in a little closer again, giving him a not very subtle up-and-down with his eyes.

"Only if you're trying to recruit me for your evil plans, pretty boy," he says, grin turning sharp. Tim feels vaguely faint, and also wants to lick the bastard's stupid perfect teeth. Jesus. "So I dunno, what are your feelings on Daisy Dukes?"

"I'm going to be honest, I'm not actually that much of an exhibitionist so at this point we're just describing my ideal costume updates for you," Tim informs him.

"Oh yeah?" Kon asks with another laugh even as he straightens back up to visibly preen at the suggestion. Tim is all for that, personally. Both the preening and the theoretical updates, in fact. And, a little more weirdly, just the idea of having anything whatsoever to do with what Kon might ever decide to wear. Especially whatever he might decide to wear for his costume.

Yeah, that's probably a later thought, Tim decides. Like, a private-time kind of later thought. Specifically “behind locked doors in an empty house” private-time, actually.

"You're solar-powered, aren't you?" he says reasonably, because apparently he likes to suffer and also make himself low-key insane. "Showing a bit more skin can't hurt."

"I wonder if Superman would buy that excuse," Kon says musingly.

"Power Girl exists," Tim replies still more reasonably. "And Supergirl wears a miniskirt, last I checked."

"Valid," Kon says, putting on a mock-thoughtful expression and tapping the side of his jaw. "Maybe I'll put in some cutouts and go for a lower neckline, tell the big guy he's making the rest of us look like prudes. What do you think, bikini or high-cut bottoms?"

"I don't know the difference," Tim lies, desperately trying not to overheat and die at that question and every single accompanying mental image that his useless brain has so helpfully decided to supply. "You'll have to provide examples."

"Will I now," Kon says, grinning all over again and pointedly striking a very suggestive pose in his seat. Tim valiantly struggles not to melt. "What, pretty boy, you want a fashion show?"

"Well I did want to be a photographer when I was a kid," Tim says, although it was definitely never that kind of photography he had in mind. Kon laughs again and shifts in closer again, though, so it's worth it. Tim is mortified, but also undeniably into just . . . all of this, really, just everything about this conversation. Robin can't flirt with Superboy, but, well . . . Tim Drake still isn't Robin, now is he?

He's probably taking advantage of the situation a little, Tim can admit to himself, but it's still just . . . nice. He's wanted to flirt with Kon for way too long, at this point. Indulging in a little bit of it isn't the worst thing he could do.

And again, it's Kon, so it's not like it's serious or anything. The guy won't even remember this conversation tomorrow, much less anything about Tim Drake.

. . . admittedly that'd be counterproductive to Tim's long-term goals here, but still. He's willing to take his time on this. There's a plan. It has steps. Layers. Processes.

"I like you, man," Kon says with a wider grin, which is in absolutely no way whatsoever in the plan. "You're funny."

Tim stares blankly at him as it occurs to him, almost disbelievingly, that he might've . . . made a good impression on Kon? Somehow?

Well, that's weird.

"I'll never get a fashion show out of you if I'm not at least funny," he says on autopilot, as someone who's been well-taught both when and how to press an advantage. Kon, yet again, grins at him, and gives him another much brighter laugh than usual.

Actually, he kind of hasn't stopped grinning at him, has he.

Huh.

. . . huh.

Tim really did not plan for this. This is just . . . not at all what the plan was.

“Well, you definitely are funny,” Kon says, biting his lip around a warm little smile and ducking his head just enough to look at Tim from under his lashes, and Tim decides he can probably just amend the plan.

He's a Bat, isn't he? They know how to improvise when they have to.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #long post #rinfic #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

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