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calpops · 4 years ago

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falling facade | c.h.

part nine: falling fires

5k words

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“I told you,” Arden whispered when morning came and the storm the paparazzi brought was drowned out by filtered sunshine. “Just needed to rest it.”

Calum was relieved to find she was moving about with much more ease than the night before; her fall on the sidewalk swarmed by flashing cameras looked much worse than it really was. Calum now figured part of the problem was shock; the unexpected growing crowd and being closed in had shaken her much more than the fall or the twist of her ankle. She woke before him but Calum had to wonder if she really slept at all after the debacle. He had held her close the entire night, had drifted and woke when she shifted. Now she stood at the edge of his bed with her hair piled on top of her head and one of his sweatshirts stolen and hanging off her frame for the morning.

“Why don’t you keep resting it and I’ll get us some breakfast?” He asked and sat up, rubbed at his tired eyes then used one hand to pull her close and hoped it would coax her back into bed. “Can swing by the diner and get your favorite.”

The promise of a cinnamon roll was enough to get her to settle back in. Duke clamored his way to her from his perch at the end of the bed where he liked to keep a lookout out of the door. Calum slipped on some decent clothes and bid them both a goodbye with kisses to their foreheads and left with a smile as they snuggled back in together. The morning felt much lighter than the night though new weights hung over their heads. Calum would have to negotiate with management to make his promise to Arden come true. No more paparazzi walks. He’d propose more social media posts to even the balance. He didn’t hold his breath or his hope that they would go for it, but he had to try. He made it to the diner and relished how quiet and calm it was compared to the club. He ordered at the counter but let his gaze flicker over to their booth where a crayon drawing had been created. It was still stuck to his fridge. After ordering his phone began buzzing, notification after notification pouring in. His eyes couldn’t keep up with the flickering screen but key words and names jumped out at him.

He went stiff and silent as he pieced it together. An interview they had done during their week of promo was exploding on its online publication. His words were plastered across headlines and taken terribly out of context. They were glaring and put a pit in his stomach. The crowd last night, the article going live along with cherry picked photos of Calum “leaving Arden in the crowd” and the timing of them all put together reeked of management. With numb hands he pocketed his phone, accepted the order from the kind waitress and headed back for his car, all the while fearing what Arden would think and if she might understand his words weren’t real. They were twisted and contrived into something he would never mean. He ran for the door as soon as he was parked in the driveway. He was about to rush to the bedroom with food still in his hands but stopped short when Arden was on the couch, Duke held to her chest and a despondent look capturing hazel.

Calum tossed the breakfast on the counter and went to her. She pursed her lips and though it seemed as if she was harrowed by his words and the way they were used against them, she reached for him. Discarded her phone and was thankful to see the article disappear as it locked.

“You know I didn’t say that right? Not like that. They took it all and twisted it. I’d never—“ Calum began but Arden shook her head and cut him off.

“I know you wouldn’t. I’m not stupid. And I trust you. Fuck, I was probably even there when you said what you actually said”—she shifted up and made room for him to settle in beside her—“I know we haven’t defined what we really are but… you wouldn’t say or do that.”

At first she was certain. Voice steady and breathing even as she rationalized and talked through the words that sank low in Calum’s stomach. And then she fell into the spiral and let it sway her certainty and fray her thoughts.

“Would you?” She asked and Calum could see the regret flash across her face the moment the words left her lips.

“No,” Calum was quick to put her small doubts to bed. His fingers trailed her jaw and coaxed her to look at him. Reminded her with a gentle touch of all that they were and all that was fake. “We’re together, Arden. I’m not waiting to start touring to see how things pan out. I’m not gonna leave you behind.”

“Together?”

“I thought it was obvious,” Calum said with a soft smile and easy glide of fingertips along her soft cheek. She pressed into the touch and let out a sigh, kept questions in her gaze and begged him to further explain. “I’ve wanted to be with you since the kiss on the dance floor. I thought it was decided that afternoon at the art gallery. I guess I never officially asked though.”

“No, you didn’t,” Arden responded and twisted the fake ring around her finger. For a second it didn’t feel so fake. For just a heartbeat Calum could picture it being real.

“Will you be my real girlfriend inside of our fake engagement?”

The question got Arden to giggle and it was music to Calum’s ears. The mood was lighter as she pretended to contemplate.

“Well I don’t know about that,” she said around a laugh and silenced when Calum kissed her, reminded her of why she should know. “I think my yes is obvious. Ever since Vegas. Especially since the art gallery.”

Calum couldn’t cut back the grin that consumed him or stop himself from leaning in to steal another kiss. She was supple and sweet and calm worked its way back through them. The chaos of the past night and morning was starting to shatter and for that Calum was grateful. Arden knew the headline was contrived. And now they both understood each other and the way they were defining what was between them. A real relationship veiled by a fake engagement. There were still hurdles to surpass, still truths that needed to be told, still forces that needed to be fought. But for now they had each other unquestionably.

“Why now?” She wondered aloud as the kiss ended and another notification lit up her phone screen discarded on the coffee table in front of them. “It has to be management. They’re starting the split aren’t they? It’s only been five months. I thought we had more time, why now?”

Calum shook his head, pressed a gentle kiss to her neck and rested against her shoulder. “I don’t know.”

Her fingers found purchase in his hair and lightly ran through it, the motion calming for both of them. “They’re making it seem like you’re not interested anymore. I thought it was supposed to be mutual. I thought we had an entire year before we had to worry about it. But now that we’re real…”

“We’ll talk to them tomorrow,” Calum decided; he’d put an end to the flames, make sure paparazzi walks were a thing of the past, the truth was a fleeting thought in his mind but it was squandered by fear they may use it as ammunition against them. “We’ll get it figured out. I’m not going to let them ruin us.”

Calum felt a nod from Arden and the way she settled her chin on the top of his head. She was warm and her arms were comfortable. Rarely did Calum seek out such a form of affection and comfort; so used to being the one to hold his arms open, her embrace and hold was refreshing and reassuring. Calum remembered her whispered plea to go home during a promo day—to Calum’s place—and realized that right here, in her arms, with lips pressed to her skin, was home for him. She was his comfort; the certainty to the questions and the calm to the chaos. Two different four letter words he hadn’t felt in a long time. One was here. Home. One sat heavy on his chest and burned in the back of his throat. Love.

There was a fear that it was too soon; they were moving too fast and Calum was merely blinded by the lights and mixing realities. Then there were the years they spent coexisting. The remembrance of things past that only highlighted everything he felt in the present. Paintings in hallways and teasing initials and nicknames in melodies and nights spent in her bed. Maybe, it really was love at second first sight.

***

Once headlines were forgotten and Calum had words with management; an agreement reached to lean back on time with paparazzi and some expletives over the twisted words, Calum and Arden found alone time together once more. The diner brought back blushing memories and a sense of normalcy and ease. Hair fell in her face as she scribbled on a menu once more and words of a painting sat on the tip of Calum’s tongue but he held them back and enjoyed the subtleties of her happiness. A slight smile upturned the corners of her mouth and the backlight of the sun set her in a glow that made her a work of art.

Calum’s phone rang on the laminate table top and Arden only spared a second to glance over as he rolled his eyes at the device and silenced it.

“Anyone important?” She asked and ducked back down to her work in progress.

Calum sighed, the sound was tired and a bit exasperated. “Not really.”

“That doesn’t sound convincing.”

He rubbed at his jaw and contemplated how to tell a truth, not wanting to leave Arden in the dark or omit anything. As many lies as they lived Calum needed honesty between them to even out the balance.

“It’s just…” he began and felt trepidation dance up his spine. She looked up at him, arched eyebrow and a gentle gaze telling him he could share. “An ex. She’s texted and called a couple of times since that headline came out. I thought she’d get the memo when I ignored them all. I’ll block her.”

“You don’t have to,” Arden said around a laugh and reached for his hand. “You know you could just talk to her and tell her some form of the truth. I had to with Brett.”

“Brett?” Calum asked, the name jarring something inside of him, setting something at unease. “Your ex? Who dumped you? Married your best friend in Vegas?”

“All of the above,” she confirmed and rolled her eyes—a huff leaving her in the same second.

A sense of protectiveness and perhaps a bite of jealousy ran through Calum. “He’s married.” His tone carried messages of what does a married man want with you and stupid Brett all in one.

“Was married. Guess they called it quits a month in. Maybe he had the same idea as your ex once that headline hit,” she explained, thumb running over the back of his hand to say words she hadn’t spoken. “I told him it was taken out of context. That we’re happy. He hasn’t called again.”

Calum warmed at the happiness part, felt his heart flutter and four letter words come back full force. He bit his tongue, pocketed his phone and decided to deal with both of those situations on another day.

“Good,” he said and regretted the word as it was laced with obvious disdain for the man he only knew in passing. But Arden’s airy giggle and lit up eyes told him his distaste was funny and he could maybe get away with being so openly against him. “I’ve never liked that guy.”

Calum knew the statement was outlandish as ‘never’ didn’t have two legs to stand on. Never was only Vegas. Only a ceremony and a passing moment at the reception. But from Arden’s words he assumed never could be from the moment she and Brett met. During their relationship when she’d find places like their diner to get away and not be with him. He wondered if they’d been in touch during those lost years if he truly never would have liked him.

“You don’t even know him,” she said but kept her smile and a fondness in her tone. “It’s okay though, I’ve never liked him either.”

Her nose crinkled to show her own distaste for the defenseless man and now it was Calum’s turn to laugh.

“Then why’d you date him?” The question slipped out before Calum could think better of it.

“So he would dump me and marry my best friend, thus making me need a date to their wedding and you giving me the pity I wanted. Why else?”

“An elaborate scheme,” Calum declared and brought her hand up to kiss. “I’m impressed.”

Arden licked her lips and pushed her newest place mat drawing towards him, tapped her fingers on the tabletop and launched into a serious explanation he wasn’t expecting. “I was really lost in university. I lost touch with Michael and my parents. I guess… he was just there when I pushed everyone else away. It went on way longer than it should have, he kind of ‘encouraged’ it, kept me busy and away from them. The only times I really talked to them was through phone calls in diners when I got away from him. He dumped me when I told him I was leaving university and I might go home. But I didn’t. I guess I just couldn’t face them yet. Tried to warn Viv about him, guess she learned on her own.”

Calum felt winded. The new information about her escapes left him heartbroken. It answered questions—why she never visited, why Michael didn’t talk about her much, why there was a strong disconnect between her and her parents. He could see she was trying to mend fences, build back what they had and find herself in the process. Find her family and where she fit into it. Calum knew Michael and her parents would always leave a spot for her. She just needed to reach for it. The fear of disappointing them made more sense than ever. Calum was going to tell her that opening up to them as she did with him would be a good starting point.

“You know,” she said suddenly and broke the solemn mood that befell them at her Brett explanation and stopped Calum from voicing things he didn’t have a say in—she needed to find her own way back to them. “You haven’t told me anything about your ex.”

Calum scoffed and waved a hand through the air to try and downplay it. “It was ages ago. Hardly anything to tell.”

“Oh come on, there’s got to be something. I just spilled my heart out. Your turn.”

He shrugged. Realized he had been keeping his previous relationship bottled up; his first true heartbreak still sat heavy with him at times. But it was Arden and the light that followed her that took the weight off him, made him question if it was really even love and if it wasn’t, then how could it be heartbreak?

“Things just didn’t work out between us. I think we both tried but it wasn’t right. I had to make the choice to end things before we came to resent each other. I don’t think she understood, I probably didn’t give her enough closure. I just needed to be done. I needed to move on.”

Arden nodded and broke her hold on his hand, picked up the crayon again and mumbled, “I think you have a call to make.”

“You don’t mind?”

She shook her head and spared him a glance. “Once you give her the truth and some closure I have something to give you. It’s back at my place.”

Calum smirked and excused himself to call her back. He stepped outside and braced himself as the phone rang. It came as a surprise when she answered and understood and wanted him to be happy; whether it was with her or with Arden. He told her it was Arden. He told her they ended because things weren’t right, something was missing and moving on to try and find it was what was best. After a moment she agreed. Thanked him for the call and wished him well. Arden came out of the door when he ended the call, offered her hand and a sympathetic smile. He pulled her into his side and held onto what he knew was right, to all the missing pieces he had been searching for. Calum felt his heart ease at the closure he could give and the colliding paths that found each other.

“You said you have a gift for me at your place?” He asked with a tilted smile and arched eyebrow.

“Don’t get your expectations too high. It’s just a little something.”

***

A little something was presented to Calum under secret circumstances. Arden rushed to her room and kept him out, came back out with her hands behind her back and a bitten lip. Calum cocked his head to the side and approached her slowly as a faint blush captured her cheeks.

“It’s actually two things,” she amended and presented one to start with.

Covered in cloth and rectangular Calum had no guesses before his hands enveloped it. The first touch told him all he needed to know, a grin grew on his face as he removed the cloth and stared down at the sunset. The same sunset that was in the Clifford’s hallway. The original work of art that sprinkled renewed memories through Calum’s mind and made him realize he had always known and understood Arden, even in fleeting moments scattered through their childhoods.

“This is the real one?” He asked, just to ensure his assumption was correct and his memory was reliable.

“My mum sent it. I figured it’d be better off with you than tucked away into the guest room.”

He took a moment to admire it and relish in the memories it so vividly painted in his mind. Arden edged a bit closer to him, let her own eyes peek at the paint and quietly brought her other offering out from around her back.

“It isn’t much. I haven’t painted in years but you and your blank wall were begging for something.”

Calum chuckled at her remark and took her words in jest as he swapped with her and uncovered the new painting. His breath caught in his throat and eyes fluttered back up to her as she swayed back and forth, weight from one foot to the other as she watched his reaction. The canvas was painted with what was real to them. The diner was abstract but recognizable. Silhouettes in the windows represented them and Calum lost his words in the meaning.

“If you don’t like it I could paint you another beach,” Arden murmured, a note of panic and apprehension cracking her voice at the end of her sentence. Calum quickly shook his head, wanting to put those doubts at ease as soon as possible.

“It’s perfect,” he said and felt honesty fluttering his heart, moving him to set it on the coffee table and pull her close instead. She did the same with the waves on canvas and welcomed his embrace. “Like you.”

A giggle left Arden in a breathy and unbelieving way. Calum knew his words were cheesy but he also knew if she wasn’t perfect then she was perfect for him. Those four letter words came crashing back into his being and the tip of his tongue at the taste of sugar gracing him. He’d never tire of the sweetness.

“I’m ready to tell my parents,” she said as a whisper against his lips, her soft hands gliding through his hair and down to the tops of his shoulders. “It’s my turn to give the truth, isn’t it?”

Calum minutely nodded, felt the brush of sweetness against his lips again. Let shadows dance behind closed eyelids, the low lighting creating intimate images. The day had faded and nighttime crept up on them in a full moon and one window to cast slight light through to them.

“How about in the morning?” He mumbled, eyes still closed and seeking sweetness, a want for something else lingering between them.

“Okay,” she said and lifted herself to the tops of her toes, smirked into a kiss and set out to discover more pieces of each other.

His hands found her waist with ease, hers settled feather light on his jawline and footsteps carefully backed them away from the living room and toward her bedroom door. It was a trip made many times before, one that Calum knew like the back of his hand. The small distance to her bedroom had been walked before but there were still lines that had yet to be crossed. Calum felt electric with her touch, familiar with her warmth and the way her body fit so nicely against his. Her back hit the bed and he hovered over her, kissed places he already knew and wandered to ones that were exciting and new. She was pliable in his hold and receptive to his every touch, he savored every second as the night slipped by in needy sighs and new highs they had never reached before. And in the morning when they woke between the sheets with tousled hair and purple painted skin Calum nearly let one four letter word slip out.

He bit his tongue and tasted her, held his breath as she rolled over with contentment written on her face as her eyelashes fluttered. He was met with hazel in new light, a smirk that replayed the feeling of her lips against his skin and a sigh that sounded reminiscent of his name and more wrapped around it. When her hand roamed back to his hair and her fingers brushed through his messy tresses he could almost feel the pull and reveled in the attention. He noted the marks on her skin, the way they clashed with delicate ivory and painted a retelling of the night before. Calum grinned when she pouted and leaned in to say good morning in a way he usually did.

With his lips pressed to her forehead he asked, “Breakfast?”

She made a noise of agreement and slowly sat up, the sheet covering her reminded Calum of a panicked morning in Vegas. Except this morning was calm and cloudy, hazy with leftover lust. She reached for his shirt that was sprawled out on the end of the bed. It was the only article of clothing that didn’t end up on the floor.

“Can I borrow your shirt?” She asked with wide eyes and a playful smile.

“Nope,” he laughed and sat up with her. He kissed her shoulder. “Topless breakfast.”

She turned with a fake glare and grabbed the shirt anyway. “You go topless this time. I will next time.”

“Alright, but I’m holding you to that,” he promised and reached around to help button it. “Say, tomorrow?”

Arden laughed and shook her head. “You wish.”

As she vacated the bed Calum called after her that he did and waited a second—a little too wrapped up in his own thoughts and finding his pants thrown into the corner—before chasing after her. He met her in the kitchen where his shirt hung off her smaller frame and made him glad she had asked to borrow it. Though he still felt his idea would be even better. She pulled out cereal and offered him some.

“I’m gonna call my parents today, when it’s good their time,” she said around a bite then nervously moved her spoon through the bowl. “You don’t have to tell yours at the same time but it’d probably make sense to. I’m sure they’ll be in touch with each other after anyway.”

“We’ll do it together,” Calum offered, as he had since the very beginning. He was elated she was ready. “We can Group FaceTime them. Tell them we have a secret surprise.”

Arden let out a short breath and set her spoon down to clap her hands on the countertop. “We’re not just taking our time with the engagement. It’s not even a real one. It was just a drunken joke that management made us stick with. Surprise!”

Her words were sarcastic and Calum played along. “We’re not really engaged, that’s our secret. But we are really together. That’s another secret. Don’t tell Michael. He only knows about the fake engagement.”

Arden chuckled and shook her head, hair falling into her face. “This is going to be awful.”

Calum pursed his lips and nodded. “It’ll be okay, we’ll just take care of it one set of secrets at a time.”

***

Surprise fell on Calum and Arden at the reactions their parents had to the truths they told. They decided to start with Vegas and the fake engagement; wanting to wait to reveal their true relationship a while longer, feeling they owed it to Michael to tell him first. Mali merely said “I knew it” around their parent’s sheer shock. Gasps filled their end of the line but support and understanding followed quickly thereafter. Calum kept his eyes on Arden, noted the subtleties in her responses and the way she began to get quieter as the conversation went on. She became reserved; sunk back into the couch nearly out of view of the camera and let Calum take the lead. He wrapped it up when he turned to look back and saw she was biting her lip, gazing despondently out the window and worried she wasn’t okay.

“We’ll talk to you guys later,” Calum said with finality before hanging up with one last wave and smile for his mum.

He turned to her, hand going to rest on her knee in a form of comfort for her and a reassurance for him. She came back from her state out of the window and gave him a timid smile.

“I’m really glad we got that over with,” she admitted and sighed. “And I’m sorry that I even made us lie in the first place.”

Calum softened at her apology and understood the meaning; though he didn’t agree—she hadn’t made him do anything—he didn’t argue, knowing that the apology was just as much for her as it was for him.

“They took it well. Feels much better to get that out in the open,” he agreed and dipped down to rest his head against her shoulder, the automatic reaction of her leaning into him and accepting his presence made his nerves and hurt flutter in tandem. “We’re almost done.”

All that was left was telling Michael the fake engagement had blossomed something very real between them. And then they would circle back around to their parents and Mali who would likely have another “I knew it” in store. Calum trailed his hand up her thigh and found her hand, felt the cool ring on her finger and felt a fall of pressure on his chest. Soon enough there would be no more ring. No more reason management would want or allow them to be together. It was another bridge they would have to cross.

“It was almost too easy,” she said, paused and shifted to throw her legs over his lap and have him look up at her. Her hand came up to rest against his chest and he once again wondered if she could feel his heartbeat. Someday he would have to ask her about that. “I hope Michael will take his surprise just as well as they did.”

Calum huffed out a small and sarcastic laugh and took up the game they had played in the kitchen during breakfast. His voice screamed sarcasm. “Hey Mike, you know how we’ve been pretending to be together? Well that’s not entirely fake; we’ve been sneaking around. Surprise!”

Arden also let out a sarcastic laugh and threw her head back into the plush cushioning of the couch. “You were right. He is going to kill you. Or at least try.”

“You’re worth it,” Calum assured but panic was rising, twisting his stomach and doubt inching its way in.

There was a part of him that wished it could stay the way it was just a while longer. A lingering need to have her to himself, a selfish want to postpone the problems that were still left to be faced. What Michael didn’t know wouldn’t get Calum killed, what they didn’t tell Michael couldn’t possibly get him hurt.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” she said and left the ball in his court.

His selfish desire spilled out. He couldn’t help it. He had a plan, an admission and declaration Arden needed to hear before Michael came into the equation. “Let’s wait awhile.”

“Whatever you want,” she promised, tapped her fingers lightly against his chest in a slow rhythm and brushed her lips against his cheek. “You’re worth it.”

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weasleydream · 5 years ago

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The girl of the 12, Grimmauld Place

Hey guys! Here is a Fred imagine!

I have to say I’m quite proud of this one, it’s a bit longer than what I’m used to but I really like it. Plus I’ve discovered I’m a sucker for Wolfstar in the role of the protective fathers and it gave me another idea. I don’t know yet if it will be a series or just very long but I can ensure you our dear Sirius and Remus will be there! (and it will be angsty but you don’t need to know it right now)

I guess I can say there’s a light mention of sex but really nothing shocking.

Anyway as usual feel free to give me feedbacks, and I hope you’ll enjoy!

Masterlist

(gif not mine)

The night was cold for a June night. The skin of my arm was bare but the occasional goosebumps were nothing compared to my tremors of fear. I was holding firmly my wand, in fact, I held it as if my life depended on it. Which was truer than ever.

A few hours earlier, my life was totally normal. Well, as normal as it could be for the daughter of two members of the American part of the Order of the Phoenix obsessed with revenge. My parents were both locked in an office arranged especially for whatever concerned the former Death Eaters, probably mumbling incoherent things they were the only ones to understand, and I was in my room, staring into emptiness while daydreaming about futile things when everything had begun. I didn’t know when the Death Eaters had intruded our house, nor did I know how they had managed to do it, but I had understood something was wrong the moment my father had screamed. I had quickly grabbed my wand and made my way downstairs, having good sense enough to stay hidden despite my fear. The four men hadn’t had any difficulty to kill both my parents, and I had heard one of them shouting the others to come upstairs find me. My heartbeat had increased at an incredibly speed and I had done the first thing I had thought about: getting out by the window. With a wave of my wand, I had freed the tiny bird my parents kept in a little cage in case of emergency (“It will know where to go if something bad happens.” My father had assured me.)

And now, I was walking at a constant speed, always glancing above my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t followed and cursing because I was unable to apparate. I had been raised like a soldier, yet my parents had never thought it would be useful for me to be able to apparate. I groaned and turned in another empty street of the neighborhood without history of the suburbs around New-York. The neighbors would gossip for sure.

A cat ran between my legs and I jumped, ready to cast a spell. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know what the bird would do, and I didn’t know what the Death Eaters would do. It was a lot of unknown. Suddenly, I heard a pretty melody. Looking up, I saw the red bird I had freed half an hour earlier. It landed on my shoulder, repeating once more its song, and vanished as quickly as it had came. Roughly three seconds later, I heard a soft pop and Remus Lupin was standing in front of me.

Remus was the only British I knew. My parents had been close to him and his friends - the Marauders, if I remembered correctly - one of them being my mother’s half brother. It was her favourite tragic story to tell, how her beloved Peter along with James and Lily Potter had been betrayed by this awful Sirius Black. Remus was the only one who had bothered to come in America to see my parents and me, and I had seen him a few times in my life. He had always seemed quite sick and tired, but it was nothing compared to what he looked like tonight. I glanced at the sky - yes, almost the full moon. I knew about Remus’ secret, he had told me about it when I had asked him why he had scars when I was seven. I had never been afraid of him, he was the only one I could consider like a friend.

“Y/N, what happened?”

His voice was quiet, and he grabbed my arm.

“My parents are dead. Death Eaters. How is it possible?”

Remus groaned. In a few words, he managed to explain me what had happened in England the day before. It looked like the 24th of June would stay in the world’s memory as the day He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned.

A few hours passed - the time for Remus to summon a Portkey and contact Albus Dumbledore with a bird like the tiny red one. I was now in front of the safest place for me, in Remus’ words.

“Welcome to the Order Headquarters, Y/N.”

The 12, Grimmauld Place was quite a strange house. Its facade was completely run-down and the windows were dirty. I had imagined a lot of things for the Order of the Phoenix, but not this. Remus had told me about the Secret Keeper, that it was protected with strong spells, but after entering, I was pretty sure it was useless. Who would approach these giant cobwebs and this awful portrait screaming whereas I had just hit the umbrella stand?

I followed Remus in a long corridor and he gently pushed me into a big living-room. Three persons were here, but I only recognized one: Sirius Black. I groaned and narrowed my eyes. My mother had told me a lot about him, how he was the biggest git at school, how is family was the typical pure-blood-and-proud-to-be family, how is own brother had been a Death Eater. I had learnt to hate him just because my parents did. He had massacred Peter and was the very first one to breakout from Azkaban.

“Y/N, we have a lot to explain you.” murmured Remus. He was looking carefully at me, maybe he feared I would explode or worse - cry in front of them. “But I guess it can wait if you want.”

“No, I want to know everything.” My voice was secure, without an ounce of sadness. It obviously surprised him. “You know I had never been really close to them.”

Remus nodded.

“In a first time, let me introduce you to Alastor Moody,” a scary man with a magical eye nodded abruptly, “Nymphadora Tonks -”

“Just Tonks.” She had bright pink hair and smiled softly at me.

“And Sirius Black. No, he’s not a murderer.” Remus added quickly. “As I said, we have a lot to explain.”

Long story short, Peter was the git of the story. He had betrayed James and Lily Potter, condemning them to death, before fleeing. Sirius had tried to kill him, yes, but he had failed, and the coward had faked his own death. He was the one to help He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it was because of him he was back, and probably because of him my parents were dead. Quite ironical, wasn’t it? Then he had processed to explain what had happened during the Triwizard Tournament, and now, Remus had finished his story, and I felt four pairs of eyes on me.

“That doesn’t explain why they have killed my parents.” I said.

“I guess they haven’t been as discreet as they thought. Now that You-know-who is back, maybe his followers will feel free to attack everyone who’s against them.” suggested Remus.

“Anyway, you’re safe here, Y/N.” said Sirius. I nodded and yawned. “Let me show you your room.”

I followed him without a word. He gestured me to stay silent in the corridor, obviously not wanting to wake the portrait up. We climbed the stairs, ran into an ugly house elf and finally reached a room I could actually sleep in.

“I guess your parents have only told you what an abominable man I am.”

I nodded.

“You know, Y/N, back at Hogwarts, I really liked your parents.” Sirius’ voice was strangely emotional. “I remember when they had announced they would be parents. Yes, I’ve seen you when you were just a baby. In fact, I have seen you regularly during two years, until… Their death.” His eyes darkened. “I won’t tell you I’m sorry, I know what you’re feeling. I’ve never really liked my family, you know. I’m nothing like them. I just wanted you to know it.”

Sirius turned his heels. I decided I trusted him.

“Sirius?” He turned toward me, clearly surprised. “One day, do you think you and Remus could tell me some stories about your Hogwarts years? It seems pretty fun.”

He smiled, and for a brief moment, I saw a younger man. A man whose life hadn’t been destroyed unfairly.

Thinking my life in England would be more entertaining than it was in America was undoubtedly a big mistake. Indeed, the next morning, I was eating some eggs when Alastor Moody arrived while muttering. It seemed to be his only way to communicate, and I was almost surprised to hear a true sentence.

“Look at that.”

He threw a newspaper on the table in front of me. A photography occupied the front page. It showed a girl that looked vaguely like me, but her hair were longer than mine, her face was rounder and her teeth - God, it was horrible. Above the photo, a title in bold caught my eyes: Y/N Y/L/N, a dangerous murderer. Underneath that was written Reward for whoever give us her localisation. It was ridiculous. I quickly scanned the article. Killer. Muggles and children. Psychopath.

“What the hell is that?”

Remus was behind me, his eyes fixed on the photo.

“I think it’s the proof we were looking for.” answered Moody. In front of my interrogative look, he added: “We know for sure the Ministry is infiltrated.”

I had spent my first week here hidden in a room, only joining the others when I was hungry or when someone dragged my downstairs. I was in the same boat as Sirius now, wanted for something I had never done and forced to stay in this horrible house. I was pretty sure I would kill someone if I heard once more the portrait of Sirius’ mother screaming me insults.

I was currently in the same room as Buckbeak, a beautiful hippogriff, when my stomach started to rumble. I decided to sneak into the kitchen, hoping I wouldn’t run into Kreacher, the ugly house elf. I tried my best to be quiet and I was on the verge of entering the kitchen when I heard my name in a conversation.

“Sirius, have you seen Y/N today?” It was Remus. He had been really worried about me since my arrival, and he didn’t like me being alone all the time. I guessed he didn’t want to force me, maybe he thought I needed time. It wasn’t totally a lie.

“Who is Y/N?” I didn’t know the woman who had spoke.

“The Y/L/N’s daughter.” answered Sirius. “They are dead.”

The woman gasped.

“The poor girl! And you let her alone?”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t need anyone to worry about me, thanks. I showed myself, passing in front of a plump woman with ginger hair. I ignored everyone, grabbed some sandwiches on the table and left without a word. I thought I could join Buck’s room without seeing anyone, and I groaned loudly when I came face to face with three boys and a girl, all of them having the same ginger hair as the woman in the kitchen. Two of them were twins.

“Look who’s also in this fantastic house!” It was one of the twins. “Why is a cutie like you here?”

His face when I forced my way between him and his twin without answering was priceless. I quickly gained Buckbeak’s room and enjoyed the silence. Two hours later, the door opened and Sirius sat next to me.

“Our guests are quite offended,” he laughed. “Fred wants you to think he’s blubbering right now. If you want my opinion, he wants your attention.”

“How long are they gonna stay?”

“Until September.”

I groaned, and Sirius chuckled. He patted my shoulder, telling me diner would be ready soon, and left. I sighed, I knew I didn’t have the choice. I left the room and came downstairs. The kitchen was way more animated than usual. The woman I had seen earlier was there, preparing something that smelled really good, along with her children. Sirius was talking with Remus and Mad-Eye Moody while Nymphadora Tonks - who wanted to be called just Tonks - was listening to a man with ginger hair - again? I caught a glimpse of the twins standing in the corner of the kitchen. It looked like they didn’t want anyone to interrupt, so I walked straight toward them.

“I thought you were crying like a baby because of me.”

One of the twins smirked. He was slightly smaller than his brother, and I was pretty sure he was Fred.

“Why, love, were you worried?”

“No, darling, I just wanted to tell you that you look cute when you’re offended.”

He laughed frankly, and a sparkle appeared in his eyes. I had to admit he was quite cute when he laughed too.

“I’m Fred, and this is George.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Fred and George exchanged a surprised look.

“Don’t ask: yes, I’m a dangerous murderer and yes, if you bother me, I’ll kill you.”

I turned the heels and sat next to Remus without hearing Fred mumbling “I like her.”

The next day, the woman with ginger hair, Molly Weasley, came in my room and woke me up.

“Hello dear, how did you sleep?”

“Well, thank you Mrs Weasley.” She scoffed, not wanting me to call her that. I had understood that quite well after the fiftieth time she had told me so the previous day, but what do you want, old habits die hard.

“Sirius wanted me to tell you he needs to see you.”

I nodded in agreement and quickly put on a jumper, it was an unusually cold morning. I followed her downstairs and ran into Fred and George. They were arguing with their father.

“Why can’t we stay? We’re adults now!” protested George.

“Because your mother thinks you’re still too young. Don’t argue, George, you neither, Fred, and go to your room!”

They sighed a bit too loud for it to be natural and finally left the living-room where the meeting would take place. Fred winked at me and followed his brother. When I entered the room, I came face to face with a man I had never seen before. He was wearing a black robe and had oily black hair, but what I saw first was his big crooked nose. We looked at each other a few seconds and I looked away only when Sirius coughed. He put an arm around my shoulder and dragged me away, not without glaring at the man. I couldn’t help but notice two things: first, a true hatred had arisen from the man as soon as Sirius had arrived, second, Sirius had stood straighter and lifted his chin.

“It’s Severus Snape.” he murmured me. “A total creep.”

“Why aren’t you besties then?” I smirked.

“I’m afraid my hair will become like his if I stay next to him for too long.”

I rolled my eyes. However, my smile faded when I saw how worried Remus looked. He was frowning and his grin seemed a bit too forced when he saw me.

“Y/N, how are you?” His tone was too cheerful. Yep, something was wrong.

“I could ask you the same question.” I eyed him suspiciously. He promptly looked away.

I asked Sirius what was happening and he shrugged. Now that I thought about it, Molly had seemed worried too, but she was nowhere to be seen. A regular noise indicated me Mad-Eye was approaching.

“Y/L/N, can I talk to you for a minute?” I nodded. “Soon we will send you back to America for a mission. You don’t have to know the details for now. I will talk to you about it later.”

Even if a lump was forming in my throat, I nodded once more and hurriedly headed toward the door to leave the living-room. No one followed me; the meeting had probably begun and that meant I wasn’t needed anymore. I was on the verge of running upstairs when I stop dead in my tracks. You’re going crazy my dear Y/N. An ear was floating in the air. I saw it rising, my mouth wide open, when I heard muffled voices from upstairs. Sighing and rolling my eyes - it was another of my bad habits - I dragged myself to my room. I stopped when I heard Fred’s voice.

“Y/N has the right to stay for the meetings,” he mumbled. “I wonder why she can and not us.”

“Because her parents didn’t forbid her to.” I had never heard this voice. Maybe it was from the twins’ brother.

“Have you seen them? Her parents?” It was a girl voice, probably their sister.

“No, you’re right. You know what, maybe we can ask her to tell us what happens in the meetings?”

“Yes, Ron, obviously no one has told her not to tell anything.” It was George.

“I’m sure we can make her talk.” Fred’s voice was now cheerful. “I’m sure with a little Tickling Charm -”

I decided to open the door. Clearly surprised, the four siblings turned simultaneously their heads toward me. Their mouths were slightly opened, they looked like fishes. Stupid fishes, might I add.

“It wouldn’t work Fred, I hate tickles.”

“What a shame.” he replied. “Are you here to tell us everything you know?”

“No way.” I saw the boy who had to be Ron frowning. “I’m here to tell you to be more careful when you try to spy on the meetings. I’ve seen the ear.”

“I told you it wasn’t a good idea!” hissed the girl.

“Don’t worry, I’m the only one.” I add. I winked at Fred, quite happy to see him smile at me, and I left.

“Wait!”

I let the door of my room open and sat on my bed, looking curiously at Fred. He passed an hand in his hair, ruffling it a bit, and joined me.

“You seem upset.”

It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t deny. Of course I was upset. I didn’t want to go back to America. I hated this country and I hated the memories I had there.

“Why do you think I’m upset?”

“Your eyes seem darker, and your smile isn’t the same either.”

It was scary, how well he could understand me. It was the very first time someone saw through my armor, and I wasn’t sure how I had to react.

“You can trust me.” Fred added softly.

“They want me to go back to America for a mission but…”

“You don’t want to, right?”

I nodded. Fred slowly put an arm around my shoulder and, seeing I didn’t push him away, he pulled me against him. I enjoyed this embrace and after a few moments, I put my arms around him. None of us talked or moved, we were just melting in this hug.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” He murmured in my ear. I sighed sadly.

“I don’t have the choice.”

“Or you murder everyone.” His tone was playful and when I raised an eyebrow at him, he pretended to be deadly serious. “No one could force to go anywhere.”

“That means I would have to murder you too, right?”

“You wouldn’t do that.” He seemed pretty confident.

“And why?”

“I bet you’re a little angel behind this facade of sarcasm.”

After this day, I grew closer to the Weasley siblings, but I had something way more special with Fred. He just seemed to know me perfectly even though we knew each other for barely two weeks. Molly was lovely with me, but I wasn’t sure it was because of my friendship with her children. She acted like a mother to me, and I had to admit it was new for me. My own mother had never been particularly tender or loving with me, neither had been my father. Our interaction consisted in homeschooling and training with plenty of spells, along with the history of the Order and of course, the life of Peter Pettigrew. That was it. I had never really left the house I had grown in, and the only person other than my parents I knew back there was Remus.

That’s why having a family as loud and joyous as the Weasley family was strange, but I couldn’t say it displeased me. The only thing bothering me in this new life was the Weasley siblings’ obsession with what happened during the meetings. I hadn’t had news about my mission yet, but I had to stay to describe the surroundings of my house and how was the American part of the Order.

However, I never assisted to the meetings until their ends, and when I had to leave the living-room, I usually joined Fred, George, Ginny and Ron in the twins’ room. Today was no exception: Molly had hurriedly gestured me toward the door - she didn’t like at all my implication in the meetings - and I quickly climbed the stairs. When I opened the door, I immediately felt Fred’s look on me.

“It was an important meeting today, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was, and no, you won’t know anything.”

He sighed and I mimicked him. He was cute and kind, and very funny, but he was also irritating as fuck when he wanted to.

“Why won’t you say anything?” It was George. “We need to know.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” I replied. “And your mother would kill me if I even told you on which chair Moody sits.”

“We don’t care about Mum!” Ginny lost her temper. “This is too important, we need to know everything Y/N! Why can’t you understand this?”

“Why can’t you understand Molly wants to protect you?” I felt my blood boiling in my veins, not a good sign. “She loves you. You can’t blame her for loving you, you don’t have the right!” I had screamed the last words and the four ginger heads in front of me stared at me in shock. I didn’t know why, but I felt like the next article about me in the Daily Prophet would be perfectly justified. “Why do you want so badly to know?” My voice was quieter. “These people I see during the meetings, each member of the Order, everyone is threatened. You know what happened to my parents, right?” Their guilty looks gave me my answer. “As soon as the war will start, we will be on the front line, maybe all of us will die. Why would you want to be a part of this? Trust me, you should run away, not rush into the battle. At least I would know you’re normal.”

A silence followed my last words, and I caught myself hoping they were convinced. Note to self: never think Fred can be serious if the situation isn’t immediately life-threatening.

“We’re quite proud to say we’re not normal.” He had a big grin.

“Idiot.” I muttered.

He stood up and walked toward me. I knew I was supposed to be angry at him, but when he opened his arms in front of me, I couldn’t help but throw my arms around his neck. It felt too good to be here, it felt right.

“I promise we won’t bother you with that anymore.” His voice was muffled by my hair. I heard the floorboards creaking and the door softly closing. We were alone. “Can I ask you something, Y/N?” I nodded. “Were you close to your parents?”

“I think you know the answer.”

He sighed, and I reluctantly looked him in the eyes. I didn’t want to see the pity I always saw in Remus’ eyes, or in Molly’s. To my surprise, it wasn’t the case. Fred had the same look in his eyes as Sirius, which I saw like a it’s-sad-to-know-you-weren’t-close-to-them-but-I-swear-I-won’t-bother-you-to-death-with-that-and-I’ll-try-to-make-you-forget-that look.

Our faces were only inches apart, and not really knowing why I did that, I grabbed his face and kissed him. His lips were softer than I had imagined. My hands slowly made their way to his neck and to his hair. Our lips were moving in sync and muffled groans escaped our mouths. I felt my heartbeat increasing and way too soon, I ran out of breath. We reluctantly broke the kiss, keeping our foreheads pressed against each other, and I couldn’t help but smile brightly.

“You’re a good kisser, Fred.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Y/N.”

I was quite happy Sirius hadn’t the same way to make me forget, it would have been awkward.

I was really comfortable with the new kind of relationship I had with Fred, but I didn’t know how to tell Remus. The guy had always acted like a father to me, even back in America where he would bring me chocolate each time he visited us. And I had a feeling he wouldn’t be overjoyed by what I had to tell him. Fred understood perfectly my state of mind, obviously not really wanting everyone to know either. We had never spoken a word about it, yet we had both kind of agreed we would hide our relationship, for a little while anyway. That resulted in us sneaking into every room of the house and snogging as long as we could, until one of us was needed and our name echoed in the corridors.

George had been the first one to become suspicious, and he figured it out approximately two hours after our first kiss. From this point - and after a pretty convincing threat from Fred and I - he had promised not to tell everyone and to help us keeping the secret. He usually lied well and was able to cover us long enough for us to appear reasonably presentable. Unfortunately, swollen lips were difficult to hide. I guess that’s why Ginny soon understood what was happening, and Ron couldn’t stay oblivious when his sister was constantly joking about a certain leech unable to let me alone. Molly had become quite suspicious too, but the incredible thing was that Remus hadn’t any clue of what was happening. Sirius had begun teasing me the day the Weasleys had arrived, it had never really changed.

Fred and I both wanted to keep this a secret, but that didn’t prevent us from touching each other. We were always sitting next to each other during the diner, and when we couldn’t hold hands, we just made our knees or our elbows enter in contact. Fred winked at me approximately a dozen of times per day, and each second we could spend alone was used very wisely. However, a sort of tension was building itself between us. It wasn’t the bad kind of tension, it was the intimate kind. When we were alone and kissing, our hands moved more and more, and our bodies were closer and closer. I discovered a new kind of need, the one that was felt deep inside me, I needed to feel him closer to me. And I could tell that Fred was thinking exactly the same.

I was sitting in front of my opened window. The fresh air of the night was slightly caressing my face as I was thinking about Fred. Again. God, what had he done to me? I was unable to get him out of my head. I groaned and sat on the floor, the back resting against the wall. I was simply unable to sleep, and unfortunately, the sparkle in Fred’s eyes and his soft hair weren’t the only thing preventing me from sleeping. Mad-Eye had told me, a few hours ago, that I would soon receive the details about my mission in America. I wouldn’t admit it, never - I had a reputation of murderer to preserve, after all - but I was terrified. I wanted nothing more than forget about this part of my life. It wasn’t perfect right now either, I was locked up all day in this house, but I had parental figures that loved me - Remus, Molly and even Sirius, I had friends and I had a wonderful boyfriend. It was closer to perfection that it had never been.

I knew I wouldn’t sleep, and I decided to be a bit selfish. Fred and I almost hadn’t seen each other this day and I missed him. I got out of my room, tiptoeing to avoid this creepy house elf and I made my way to the twins’ room. They weren’t sleeping, I could hear their muffled voices. I slowly opened the door and, after the second of shock, they both smiled at me and Fred extended an arm. I sat on his lap, snuggling up with him and vaguely listening to them.

Eventually, George yawned and announced us he would go to sleep.

“Don’t do anything nasty while I’m here.” He winked.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find another room for tonight.” Answered Fred.

I smiled and grabbed his hand, leading him out. We barely heard George’s comment (“Try not to wake everyone up!”) and I was going to join my room when Fred stopped me.

“No, love, follow me.”

We climbed the stairs and I noticed he had two pillows and blankets under his arm. We choose one of the room of the top floor and sneaked in. With a wave of his wand, Fred lighted a fire in the chimney and he put the blankets on the floor, one laid out and the others stashed next to the first one, in front of the now burning fire. Then he turned toward me and put his hands around my waist. He slowly leaned in and kissed me.

“Are you sure you want to do it?” His voice was a whisper.

I nodded, I didn’t want anything more than to feel him against me in the most intimate way possible. We shared another kiss, and another, and we slowly undressed each other. We laid on the blanket without breaking the kiss, both naked and discovering our bodies in a new way. This night was full of love and full of trust, Fred and I weren’t just two young adults hiding and snogging, we were now two lovers.

My head was resting against his torso, and his heartbeat slowly becoming normal again was the sweetest melody to me. We were still naked and laying on the blanket, Fred’s head resting on the pillows. His arms were around me and I was literally laying on him. A comfortable silence took place, only disturbed by the crackling sounds of the fire. A shiver ran down my spine. Fred grabbed a blanket and covered me.

“Better?” he whispered.

“Perfect.”

He chuckled, and the vibration in his chest seemed to echo in mine.

“Fred, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, love.”

“Promise you won’t laugh.”

Without seeing him, I could tell he was raising an eyebrow and a smirk was on his lips.

“I will try, but I can’t promise.”

I sighed, knowing my question would seem quite strange, but I was imagining a perfect life and I needed him to help me.

“What is it like to go to school?”

Much to my surprise, Fred didn’t laugh. He didn’t let out a sarcastic or incredulous comment, he just tightened his grip on me and kissed my hair.

“You’ve never been to school?”

I shook my head. He sighed sadly, probably imagining a little girl locked up in a cold house, her parents only teaching her the strict necessary, an unhappy girl only dreaming to have friends and be normal. He wasn’t really wrong.

“Whatever we say, going to school is incredible,” he started. “especially if you go to Hogwarts. That’s where I go. You live with your friends, you can do everything with them. Eating your breakfast, playing Quidditch, sneaking into the kitchen for the parties -”

“Is it even allowed?” I laughed.

“Well, you’re missing the point.” He chuckled. “And as cliche as it sounds, it’s the most magical way to learn. Sometimes, you miss your house and your parents, along with your siblings if they aren’t with you, but your friends in there, they are your second family. You would do anything for them, and they would do anything for you, even going to detention. And even detentions are fun if you’re with the good persons. And you can explore each corner of the school and live wonderful adventures.”

Fred stopped, obviously feeling my tears on his bare skin. He murmures apologies and stroke my hair.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I shouldn’t have -”

“No Fred, thank you. Now I can imagine my perfect life.” I murmured.

“Am I a part of it?”

“Of course you are.”

And I fell asleep.

The castle towers were illuminated by the sunset. The sky had taken a bright red tone, and a sweet breeze ruffled our hair. Fred was in front of me, running slow enough for me to follow and holding my hand. We were in a park, surrounded by huge trees. The air was fresher here, and the grass underneath my bare feet was soft. Some birds were still up there and singing for us. It was truly perfect.

Suddenly Fred stopped and turned toward me. His eyes were shining, he had this sparkle that showed every time he was happy.

“Ready for our adventure, my love?”

I opened my mouth, eager to tell him I would follow him everywhere, but it wasn’t clearly not my voice that echoed in the peaceful atmosphere of the forest.

“What the -”

A sudden airstream made me shiver and I snuggled closer to Fred. I didn’t want to open my eyes, my dream was too beautiful. Maybe if I could go back to sleep right now -

“Good job, Mum. You might want to close the door now, no?”

I heard the door closing and I sighed in contentment. I felt myself falling asleep again when two loud sounds made me jump. The door had been slammed open and a loud gasp echoed in the room. Instinctively, I tried to get up but Fred pulled me against him.

“Don’t think you want to get up right now.” he murmured with his husky voice in my ear.

I turned my head, ready to scold whoever had disturbed my peaceful dream when I saw him. Remus was on the threshold, his face as white as the hairs of Kreacher’s ears. I was sure mine was dark red by now, and I caught George’s look behind him, silently telling he was sorry. Finally, this little bastard pulled Remus backwards and closed the door, not without dodging the pillow I had thrown him for daring wiggling his eyebrows.

“I’m going to die…” I murmured.

“So am I.” answered Fred. “At least we’ll be together.”

“What a consolation.” I muttered.

“Oi! You didn’t think that a few hours earlier.” He winked at me and grabbed my arse.

“Not now, love, I promise in ten minutes you’ll wish you’re facing a banshee and not an angry Remus.”

Once dressed - and Fred’s giggle gone after he had seen the hickeys I had in the neck - we finally got downstairs. We entered the living-room, not really knowing what was going to follow. I wanted to tell Fred to let go of my hand, but it felt too right. I didn’t say anything.

Remus was pacing in the room, groaning at Sirius who was laughing. They were alone in there. When he heard us, Remus looked up and Fred shifted next to me.

“Where’s your courage, my dear Fred?” I whispered.

“Shut up.”

I wanted to chuckle but in front of an angry werewolf it wasn’t a good idea.

“Y/N, in the kitchen, please.”

I bolted, surprised by his tone. It wasn’t sweet but it wasn’t harsh either. I barely heard Fred groaning (“Courage my ass.”) before running face to face with Molly. She was probably as red as me, and I remembered George’s voice a bit earlier.

“I’m sorry Mrs -”

“Molly, dear. You don’t have nothing to be sorry about.”

She smiled and I let out a sigh of relief, one I didn’t even know I was holding. However, my smile turned into a grimace when I heard a scream in the living-room. Molly and I immediately ran behind the door and listened closely.

“I’m sorry, Professor… Mister… err…”

I chuckled, mentally promising myself I would tease Fred as soon as I could. Molly rolled her eyes.

“She’s fragile right now!” I snorted. “She doesn’t know how to feel and you just take advantage of her situation!”

I furiously shook my head to reassure Molly, whose eyes were wide open. I was ready to barge in and calm Remus’ ass down when Fred spoke up.

“I didn’t take advantage of her Remus! She’s an adult, she can make her own decisions whether you like it or not!”

“Maybe she wanted it but how can I know you -”

“Because fell for her! I love her!”

Fred’s voice was clear as crystal, and so was the love in it. I gasped, and realized I was feeling exactly the same. I loved him. I loved Fred Weasley. This time, I barged in the living-room, yes, but I ran toward Fred and kissed him. He gladly melted into the kiss, pulling me harder against him. We quickly interrupt, not wanting to shock poor Remus more than he already was.

“I love her, Remus, and I know what she went through. I would never, never, to that to her, I swear to you and everyone here.”

Fred’s voice was sweeter now that he didn’t feel threatened anymore. His arm was around my waist and he didn’t loosen his grip when Remus sent him a harsh look.

“I think the boy is sincere,” softly said Sirius. “Maybe you don’t have to murder him right now.”

Remus groaned, looked at me and left in the kitchen. Catching the message, I pecked Fred’s lips - doing it in front of everyone was so strange - and I followed Remus.

“How long has it been?”

“Three weeks.”

“And when did you… you know… for the first time?”

“Yesterday.”

My voice was quiet. Among everyone who was in this house, Remus was the only one I couldn’t bear to disappoint. He was like my father since I was seven, and I knew he wanted nothing more than to protect me. God, I couldn’t even look him in the eyes. What if I saw anger, and disappointment? A shaky sigh escaped my lips.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me.”

He lifted my chin and I saw a small smile on his lips.

“You don’t have to be sorry, I am the one owing you apologies. It’s just that… You know, I know you since you’re a baby, and I saw you growing up into a beautiful woman, and when you send this bird to me, I swore I would protect you. And I will protect you, from everything you need to be protected from, even if it’s a boy.”

“You don’t have to protect me from Fred, Remus…”

“I know that. But I hope he’s scared enough to know what will happen if he hurts you.”

“I bet his pants will remember for him.” I chuckled.

And Remus did something he had never done before, something no one had never done before: he hugged me, and I felt the love of a father enveloping me like a protective cocoon. I even felt a tear rolling down my cheek.

Later this day, I learnt that Mad-Eye was on his way to the 12, Grimmauld Place when Molly had been looking for me. Not finding me in my room, she had wanted to ask Fred if he had seen me, only to find out he was missing too. She had understood that we were together, and George, who had been roughly woken up by his mother, had panicked and had been unable to say anything.

Mad-Eye wanted to explain me my mission, which happened to be less difficult than I thought: I had to go back to my former house, find an highly important file and come back. Fred had refused to let me go alone and, an hour later, we had taken a Portkey. Finding the file hadn’t lasted more than half an hour during which Fred had never let go of my hand, and we came back with the same Portkey after I had cast a spell for it to bring us back to London.

Fred leaving for Hogwarts had kind of broken my heart, I wasn’t ready to spend moths without him, but he had promised me to send me a letter each day. He kept his promise, and while reading it, I had the impression I was with him.

I was still locked up in this awful house, but I was with Remus and Sirius. And I loved Fred, and he loved me, and I had friends.

My life was closer to perfection than it had never been.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #fred weasley #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #remus lupin

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fandomlurker · 4 years ago

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A Ponderous Rewatch: Opportunity Knox and Cameo

We’re treated to something a bit special this episode! No, not the art and animation quality, as that’s…kinda weak this time. Or maybe I should say Brain is drawn and animated kinda nightmarishly in a lot of parts? Well, you’ll see.

No, the special thing about this episode is that it’s written by Tom Minton, the writer at Warner Brothers who was the original inspiration for The Brain! The general idea for Pinky and the Brain as characters and as a show came from Tom Ruegger having an office close by to Tom Minton and Eddie Fitzgerald, two writers and storyboard artists who he would often hear laughing and joking around together but usually couldn’t make out what exactly they were saying. Minton usually spoke low and quietly and was more introverted, while Fitzgerald was much more outgoing and loud…basically already like a cartoon come to life (Eddie actually did exclaim things like ‘Narf’ occasionally in reality, which was an aspect that was added to and exaggerated in Pinky’s character). The fact that these two guys who were viewed as total opposites by their colleagues were good friends and spent so much time working together in secret lead to everyone joking that they were secretly trying to take over the world.

That isn’t to say that Pinky and Brain are 100% cartoon copies of Eddie and Tom—our mouse duo definitely veered off into their own distinct personalities very quickly—but the basic bones of their characters came from these two real life men. That makes me wonder about how surreal it must have been for Tom Minton to write for episodes starring Pinky and the Brain. He only did so four times in Animaniacs (and Eddie Fitzgerald never directly worked on Animaniacs or Pinky and the Brain, to my knowledge).

In any case, let’s move on to the actual episode.

We open to a multitude of bubbling beakers of mysterious liquids and one scientist working alone at night in the Acme Labs. She sneezes a few times, and then exclaims that she’s only a few steps away from curing the common cold.

…Man, Acme Labs is a total shitshow when it comes to their work, aren’t they? In addition to all the blatantly cruel experiments on animals that they do, just look at how lax this scientist is about lab safety. I’ll give her props for at least wearing her lab coat properly and tying her long hair up, which is something most media usually gets wrong. The fact that she’s doing this medical experiment while not wearing gloves or proper eye protection or a mask is very troubling. Not to mention that she’s doing all this while being very sick, if her violent sneezes are anything to go by.

Hmm, that cage is looking suspiciously empty.

Well, well! Looks like our mousey duo is up to something.

“Ahehehehe, oh this is gonna be great, Brain! Narf!”

“Quiet, Pinky!”

OH LORD, SHE JUST CHUGS IT HERSELF! Lady, PLEASE! The fact that this “cure” is piss-coloured only makes it worse.

Sweetie, I think this needs more peer-reviewed, double-blind tests before you can truthfully say that you’ve made a cure for the common cold. You have no proper safety gear on and you’re doing this experiment all alone at night with no one to check up on you.

Oh no. Boys, what are you doing?

So they catapult some powdery substance on her and she goes into a more violent sneezing fit than before. She leaves the room to go “back to the drawing board”, but honestly I’m hoping that she just goes home and isolates herself for a while.

“Success, Pinky!”

“Egad, Brain, what is this stuff?!”

“A new strain of pollen I created myself, Pinky. It causes a temporary but uncontrollable fit of allergic sneezing in man.”

Pinky looks very disturbed by this (although I suppose it doesn’t help that Brain has that very smug and devious look on his face) until Brain says that the effect is temporary. It’s a nice little detail that shows us approximately where Pinky’s lines of morality are. Brain makes his own strain of pollen to cause humans to have severe sneezing fits? That’s amazing but horrifying! Oh, it’s only temporary? Well okay, then. It’s fine if it doesn’t cause any lasting harm.

“No human is immune.”

AAAAAAHHHHHHH! Holy fuck, show, don’t give me a jumpscare like that!

“Do you realize what we will do with this pollen, Pinky?”

“Umm… Open a boutique?”

GAH! I told you to stop doing that! Seriously, what’s up with the way Brain’s draw in this episode?

“Yes, that’s it. We’ll open a boutique and sell ladies’ clothing and pollen.”

“Egad, Brain, what fun! I like this idea, I do! Hehehahahaha!~”

Of course he would. Of course he’d like working in a more domestic setting and selling ladies’ clothing.

…Say, now that I think of it, I think this might be the first time we get a hint as to Pinky’s love of what’s stereotypically thought of as women’s clothing. Hmm.

BONK!

“Focus, Pinky, FOCUS!”

Brain, sweetie, not everyone goes into tunnel-visioned hyperfocus like you do.

“We shall do no less than go to Fort Knox, Kentucky: keeper of the nation’s gold supply. There, we will expose the guards to our pollen…”

Despite the general awkwardness of the animation this episode, I like the way Brain is drawn here from over the shoulder. Very nice work.

Also…”our” pollen? Brain, you made that yourself. I guess this is just another example of Brain subconsciously including Pinky in everything.

“…and while they’re sneezing uncontrollably, we’ll move into the vault and take the gold!”

Brain’s plan blueprints are such a treat. Gold! Gold! Gold!

“For he who controls this nation’s capital, controls the nation!”

Okay, this close-up is a little better.

“Off to Fort Knox!”

“Oh! Wait! But isn’t the nation’s capital in Washington, DC?”

BONK!

“Capital as in money, Pinky!”

Oh come on now, Brain. It was an easy mistake to make. Also “capital” in this instance can mean more than money if you want to get semantic about it.

Brain grabs Pinky’s tail to drag him away again. It’s a wonder that Pinky’s tail isn’t as kinked up and injured as Brain’s is by now.

Ooo, improvised tools time!

“But how are we gonna get to Fort Knox, Brain?”

“We’ll simply borrow one of the lab’s technological resources:”

“The minivan!”

Pinky, are you mildly swooning over Brain acquiring a minivan? I…

This does bring up a point I wanted to make, though. Sometimes fans will question why Pinky and Brain stay at Acme Labs despite being put through so much inhumane and humiliating bullshit. While it’s true that Brain doesn’t much like the experiments he’s subjected to (Pinky is…another story entirely), I’m pretty sure he keeps the labs as his home because it’s incredibly convenient for his world domination plans. These are ACME labs, after all, and regardless of how terrible the experiments are, Acme has access to just about every bit of technology in the Warner Brothers cartoon universe. Brain can find or order whatever parts he needs for his latest world domination plan whenever he wants, and no human bats an eye at mysterious bits and bobs showing up because, well, it’s Acme. Acme is in the business of doing absolutely everything. No matter what daytime tortures Brain goes through, the lab is an incredible asset to him, and he’d be foolish to give that up.

Hello again, Warner siblings! I hope you’re having fun tonight.

That’s an awfully tiny sack of pollen to take for this trip…

“Won’t we get in trouble, Brain?”

“’Get in trouble’? Pinky, we’re going to take over the world!”

I just like the tiny silhouettes in this screencap.

“Besides, we’ll have the van back here by 8 am.”

“Oh! All right, then!”

[Quickly googles how long it would take to drive from Burbank California to Fort Knox]

…Are you sure about that, Brain? Are you really, positively sure?

Oh my goodness, a little winch and pulley system! That’s a little convoluted, but it’s adorable.

“Oi! Nice threads, Brain! But, err, why the disguise?”

“If we are to succeed in our mission, I must pass for an average, non-descript motorist, Pinky.”

I agree, Pinky. Brain always looks good in a suit.

Also he’s on a literal soap box, holy shit.

“So while we’re driving, call me Mr. Perkins.”

A trillby?!? Put it back! Putitbackputitbackputitback!

“Say no more! Brilliant, Brain!”

“Mr. Perkins.”

Oh no, he’s threatening to punch the audience now!

“Ooo, right, right. Narf! Heh, Mr. Per-kins.~”

“Pinky, start your engine!”

So Pinky tugs on a rope tied to the car keys to start the minivan, and I bet we can all already tell that he’s going to be doing most of the hard work for this roadtrip.

“Now depress the brake!”

I half expected a joke here where Pinky would say depressing things to the brake, but that didn’t happen. It’s just as well, I suppose. Pinky’s not usually the type to be mean to anyone or anything.

Instead, he pushes himself into the brake.

This made me curious about how strong real mice are. According to this scientific article, the average mouse can lift approximately 70 g in weight.That’s not a lot compared to us humans, of course, but seeing as the average weight of the common house mouse is 19 g (and common wood mice are on average 23 g), that’s really impressive! Still, for Pinky to be able to depress the brake is quite a feat that’s worlds beyond what the average real-life mouse can do.

Yes, yes, I know. It’s all cartoon logic and physics. That’s not going to stop me from having the headcanon that Pinky and the Brain have both been modified so much by Acme Labs that in addition to becoming sapient and intelligent, they’re basically little mouse superheroes in strength, too.

“Yes! Now I’ll shift the transmission into gear and…you give it the gas!”

Man, Pinky just slams his entire body onto the gas pedal with all his mousey might! You can hear him physically strain against it. Well done, Mr. Paulsen!

“Now Pinky, let us, in the vernacular, ‘take this hog out on the road and see who’s boss’!”

Oh lord, Brain’s on a slight power trip just from being able to drive a vehicle. If he ever does rule over the world one day, I fear he may explode from the sheer ego-high of it.

Anyway, on the way to Fort Knox they get stuck behind a rather slow transport truck. Well, Brain can’t have that! He’s got to get back to the lab by 8 am after all!

“Pinky! Prepare to pass a slow-moving vehicle!”

“Righty-o, Brain!”

Again, Pinky, I’m pretty sure you really aren’t supposed to stick your ass and chest out while saluting. You’re supposed to keep your posture straight.

…What am I saying? Pinky can’t do anything straight.

“Call me Mr. Perkins! Activate left turn indicator now.”

Aww, a little hop!~

Unfortunately it’s the wrong lever.

“…Let’s try that again, Pinky.”

“Narf! Wrong switch.”

He sits down to think and of course he gets it right that way.

Anyone else enjoying a lesson on how to drive from Pinky and the Brain? No? Just me? I mean, I already know how, but this is super cute.

“Exemplary work, Pinky!”

Brain, he just…he just pulled a switch. By accident. The fact that he’s so sincere about complimenting him for this is very cute but also very odd. I guess Brain’s in a good mood tonight.

“But we’re slowing down. Quickly, step on the gas!”

“Gas, check!”

Pinky, no!

Oh lord, he just lets himself fall directly on the gas pedal. You okay there, dude?

“Maintain pedal pressure, Pinky!”

I don’t think he has much of a choice, Brain.

So they get beside the freight truck and the driver of it picks up his CB radio mic.

“Hey, breaker breaker one nine, this here’s Big Red. Eh…what’s your handle, good buddy? Over.”

“The name’s Perkins. MISTER Perkins. Just an average, non-descript motorist.”

Wh—Why is there a CB radio installed in the Acme Lab minivan?

Pinky chooses this moment to lift himself off the gas pedal and then jump back on it in a weirdly showy, semi-acrobatic way. The first screencap has the tip of his tail almost in the shape of a heart, so I had to include it.

Our duo pass by the freight truck. Needless to say, the truck driver is still pretty rattled by his run-in with “Mr. Perkins”.

“I gotta quit eatin’ them double onion chili dogs!…”

Usually people just run with it on this show, but this is one of those rare moments where a human being doesn’t inexplicably fall for one of Brain’s horrible human disguises.

The minivan’s grill looks like teeth here and it’s almost menacing.

Uh oh, Brain’s getting dozy.

“Pinky…I’m in need of some music to keep myself raptly alert. And use the cruise control this time so we don’t lose speed!”

I don’t know why I’m so charmed by Pinky pressing the cruise control button like this, but it’s very cute.

“Cruise control on, Br—aaaerr—umm, Mr. Perkins!”

He is trying his best. :3c

“[yawn] Stellar, Pinky. Now see if you can locate a local radio station frequency.”

“Narf! Wrong knob…”

Smacking the hell out of the right knob make the radio explode into a loud yet incredibly mild generic rock tune. I’m surprised Pinky’s so alarmed. I wonder if Brain—

JEEZUS FUCK! You gotta stop giving me a heart attack with these sudden messed up close-ups of Brain, episode!

“Turn off the radio, Pinky!”

“Heeey! This knob’s loose!”

Aaaand there he goes.

“Oohoo ahaha! What’d’ya know? The lighter works!”

I wonder if Pinky knows what that’s actually for at this point, considering his utter disdain for smoking later in the spin-off?

“The radio, Pinky!”

“Ooo, right. Almost forgot!”

Uh oh.

“Whew. Suddenly I feel downright feverish, I do…”

Pinky has become a Charmander, and he’s not happy about it.

So he’s screaming and shouting his verbal tics all over the place and what’s Brain’s reaction?

“There’s no need for you to entertain me personally, Pinky. I’m quite awake now.”

BRAIN! You wipe that smug smile off your face right now, you little jerk! I know Pinky will be okay because he always is, but still.

One screen wipe later…

“Kentucky, Pinky! We made it!”

“All right, Brain!”

“Mister PERKINS!”

Brain, I think Pinky’s just not into this roleplay tonight. Or it might be your trillby. Lose the damn trillby.

“Fort Knox is mere miles away. Nothing can stop us now!”

Well, looks like you jinxed yourself.

I’ve got no love for cops, but his “what the fuck” expression here is choice.

“Good evening, officer. Was I exceeding the speed limit?”

“By about a hundred miles an hour.”

Oh, is that all? They’d need to be over by, like, a thousand or so miles an hour to make as good of a time as they did getting here.

Maybe this guy is going to arrest them for breaking the laws of time and space.

“I’m sorry, y’see—“

Shining a flashlight directly into your eyes? Yup, this is definitely a cop.

“I’m Mr. Perkins, an average, non-descript—“

“Can I see your license and registration, please?”

And then Pinky immediately interrupts the shakedown with a happy, matter-of-fact “We don’t have any! Zort! :D�� and now my mind wanders off into let’s-overanalyze-the-shit-out-of-this-joke-scene territory because… Look at this. A cop pulls over a vehicle from Acme Labs doing about a hundred miles over the speed limit and finds Brain, a mouse in a suit trying to pass as a human driver. Then Pinky, who is dressed in no such disguise because why would Brain ever think of an obviously important detail ever in one of his plans, pops up to say that they don’t have a driver’s license.

…So what does this scene look like at this point from the cop’s perspective? Besides the very rare outlier like the truck driver from before, humans usually take Brain’s word for it that he’s also human, no matter how shoddy his disguise is. There are a few possibilities here, and I honestly can’t decide which is funniest:

1. The cop can see through Brain’s poor disguise just like the truck driver from earlier can, and knows that these are actually two mice that have stolen a truck and have been speeding down the highway with it.

2. The cop thinks Brain is a very odd-looking human without a driver’s license who’s been driving down the highway at insane speeds with his loose pet talking mouse by his side.

3. The cop believes that Brain really is an odd-looking human who has no license and has been wildly speeding down the highway and also there’s an equally odd-looking human man with him who is stark naked for some mysterious reason.

I’ll let you decide which one is the most likely canon scenario as we continue as Brain tries to clear up this scenario.

“If you must know, we are two lab mice out to control the world by seizing its gold assets. But when we assume power, rest assured our budget will result in substantial new funding for law enforcement.”

…

Leave it to Brain to truthfully spell out his global domination intentions for no good reason and then lie his little mousey ass off to try and bribe his way out of going to jail.

Also, again, it’s “when we assume power” and not “when I assume power”. Hmm.

“…Oh.”

“Bwuhyuube… Be--best be on your way, then.”

“Thank you, officer.”

I’d say I was surprised that white privilege extends even to white lab mice here but…that would be a lie.

“Oh man, I do miss them witless teenage speed demons…”

So they finally make it to Fort Knox.

…And I guess the Warner siblings do, too!

The two mice have parked on a hill overlooking their target and gosh Brain, you’re looking extra pudgy here.

“It’s time to make our move, Pinky.”

Judging by the look on his face here, I think Pinky just noticed how thicc Brain’s behind has suddenly gotten.

Nevertheless, they begin their pollen assault on the guards.

Finally, the moment has arrived!

Brain’s head is shaped like a football and is almost as wide as Pinky is tall here, but besides that this is a cool shot.

This bit was also used in the spin-off’s theme for some reason, but now it will forever remind me of the absolute chaotic laughter that erupted when I got some friends to sit down and watch an episode of PatB. The stream decided to stop on this specific shot for buffering and they all just lost it. Most of the reaction was through voice on Discord, but luckily there were some friends using text chat too:

I live for moments like these when we’re streaming shows and movies.

“Egad! This is even better than a Ducktales episode, Brain!”

That’s pretty high praise, Pinky. I love the shadowing done on him here as well.

“Pinky… Are you pondering what I’m pondering?”

“Wha—I think so, Brain, but balancing a family and a career? Oof, it’s all too much for me!”

Pinky did…did you see all this gold and immediately begin envisioning yourself using the money to settle down and start a family?!? And so far in this series you aren’t dating anyone and you probably don’t even know anyone besides Brain and…

Okay, listen, I know it’s established later on that Pinky has wishes and daydreams about having a very domestic life, culminating in that one “Somewhere That’s Green” parody fantasy where he and Brain live together like a 50s couple in the Elmyra spin-off but… But…!

Well, you’ll kind of get a family along with your world domination “career” in a few years, Pinky. It’s probably not going to be quite how you envisioned it, though.

“The gold, Pinky! It’s all ours. Let’s move it out!”

Umm…

“One…two…three…and lift!”

I just realized that out of context the poses and faces in this screencap could look, uhh, questionable. But will that stop me from sharing it? No.

“I believe my plan has a…fatal flaw…”

About 27.4 pounds worth of a fatal flaw. You two might have super strength in comparison to other mice, but it looks like you both have a hard limit.

“I am in intense pain, Pinky.”

“Ditto, Brain. Zort!”

Well, okay, I guess it’s good that you are both cartoons, then. You boys should be able to shrug this off pretty quickly, especially Pinky.

OH GOD!

Is this what all those nightmarish close-ups of Brain were preparing me for?!?

“Fear not, Pinky, for the unwieldy atomic weight of gold will not thwart us tomorrow night.”

“Why? What are we doing tomorrow night, Brain?”

“The same thing we do every night, Pinky… Try to take over the world!”

You know, most cartoons would settle for them just being covered in bandages. Not Animaniacs, though. In Animaniacs were have to know that their removal from under the gold bar was so difficult and painful that fur was pulled out and they were left with bare, raw patches of skin. T-thanks, Warner Brothers?

Let’s end with a somewhat longer cameo appearance, as I suspect at this point Tumblr will have another fit if I try to combine two full episodes again.

The very next episode of Animaniacs has a skit called Hercule Yakko, which is a vague parody of Hercule Poirot mysteries. We get a good handful of cameos from the stars of other Animaniacs skits as passengers on a luxury cruise boat on the Nile.

The basic premise is that the Marita, one of the Hip Hippos, awakens in the middle of the night to find her comically large diamond necklace missing. The Warner siblings are a detective team who happen to also be onboard the ship and offer to help the hippo couple find it.

Before you ask, yes, this is the same episode as the infamous “fingerprints” joke.

Eventually the Warner siblings begin to go around knocking on the doors of the other passengers’ rooms to ask questions. They come across Slappy Squirrel first, who knows nothing about the missing diamond and just wants to be left alone to sleep. Then they meet Minerva Mink and, well, you can guess how that went. Then Yakko knocks on the last door.

“YES?”

Smol.

Look at them in their matching lederhosen! That’s absolutely adorable. Bravo to whichever of the mice had the idea for these “disguises”.

“Did you steal a big diamond?”

“No. We are Swiss hikers on holiday.”

Okay so maybe I’ll deduct a few points for wearing lederhosen, which is more associated with Bavaria and Germany, but claiming to be Swiss. Not that people in Switzerland didn’t also wear it, but you’d probably want to make your cover story as unsuspicious as possible, right? And that’s not even going into the idea of wearing a garment made from leather in hot, hot Egypt. These mice must be drenched in sweat…

“Look at me, Brain! I’m Heidi! Yodelehe-NARF!~”

Well at least someone in this duo is trying his best to reference things from Switzerland.

…Brain is the one that fucked up the lederhosen cultural background thing, isn’t he? Goddammit, Brain.

He just bonks the hell outta Pinky and silently slams the door in Yakko’s face.

After briefly talking with Marita, Yakko exclaims that he knows where the diamond is and asks that everyone assemble together in the state room. And so they do!

Aww, they’re sharing a chair because they are so, so tiny. :3c

“You’re probably all wondering why I called you here!”

“To reveal the thief?!?” says everyone in unison.

Minerva, you’re looking kind of weird in that second pic.

“No. It’s because you can’t play charades with three people.”

“That’s it! I’m goin’ back to bed.”

“So am I. I didn’t take the diamond!”

Man, Minerva really got a raw deal in the 90s. She only has two episode skits of her own and makes a few tiny cameos elsewhere, like in this one. I get that she was put on the back-burner as a character because her skits were considered “too suggestive”—and to be honest they were a bit over the top—but there are certainly ways that you can write a character who uses their sex appeal for comedic effect without it being disrespectful. It’s a shame they never tried to tweak the tone of her episodes just a tad.

But anyway, mice!

Brain is looking at Minerva with…worry? Concern? Confusion? Which is a very atypical reaction to Minerva. Gee, I wonder why.

Pinky is Looking Respectfully.

I’m never going to get over how cute they look in these outfits.

“I also am innocent.”

“Umm… I may have done it! I walk in my sleep, you know.”

Pinky, sweetie, I know you’re trying in your own odd little way to help but there’s no way you’d be able to carry a diamond of that size.

BONK!

This is the very last clear shot that the mice are in and it’s not very significant but I liked the angle of it.

Oh, you’re asking who took the diamond? No one did. The diamond was lodged in Marita’s butt fat the entire time. It’s the typical style of “humour” from skits with the Hip Hippos. Now you all know why no one is clamouring for their return in the reboot.

That’s it for this post, though. I should have the next episode that I promised would go with this one up in a day or two.

See you next time, folks, when we go off to the races!

#Pinky and the Brain #PatB #Opportunity Knox

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nukagalreacts · 5 years ago

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Fo4 Companions react to a Sole who is very affectionate - Part 1

Howdy y’all here’s part one of this request I always love me some cute and fluffy request! As always thank you and I hope you enjoy reading!!!! Curie: Originally being programmed as a Miss nanny and in general just wanting to help people with her knowledge Curie understands the importance of affection and is happy to recuperate it even if she does make it unintentional funny because she starts listing off the benefits of giving and receiving hugs, Sole doesn’t mind though. Curie loved all the attention she was getting from Sole and loved that they were such an overly affectionate person it was all such a new experience for her and she never got tired of all the ways Sole showed her they loved and appreciated them. Her favorite was when she would be busy with her never ending scientific research and suddenly she would feel a set of hands start gently massaging her shoulders and Sole would start giving her little kisses along her neck making Curie laugh before Sole would wrap them up in a big hug, refusing to let go until Curie left her work for a little bit. Curie would even compare Sole to a cat because they were always looking for attention and cuddles whenever they weren’t busy if Curie was sitting down or laying down Sole would wrap themselves around her and snuggle into her back or chest letting there fingers wander lazily down her spine enjoying the comfort of just getting to just be close to someone else. Curie never minded and she was so used to it she would just open up her arms would ever Sole would say they wanted to cuddle and she enjoyed just soaking up the warmth Sole radiated off and the comfort they were always willing to share.

Piper: Piper wasn’t one who was used to affection, giving or receiving rather it was in a friendly or romantic way, being a journalist an apocalyptic wasteland didn’t leave time for that sort of thing anyway. Than Sole came around with her old world flirting and sweet-talking and Piper turned to mush under all the attention Sole was giving her every time they came over. Sometimes it wasn’t even in a romantic way most days Sole would stop by just to give Piper a big spine crushing hug telling her how much they missed them or wrapping an arm around there shoulder telling Piper they needed to take a break from journaling as they steered them towards the noddle bar. Piper never minded unless it was when she was actually trying to work at her desk and Sole was trying to sit in her lap or was sitting on the desk poking Piper with there feet or leaning over messing with her hair as she tried to swat their hands away. Some days though Sole was content with leaning there head against Piper’s shoulder and watching as she typed up her next article, making comment’s about this and that until the sound of typing lulled them to sleep, Piper thought it was cute until Sole started drooling or snoring right next to there ear than she would wake them up and tease Sole about it.

Preston: He was accustomed to the occasional hug from a grateful settler he helped out but Sole’s level of affection was something new and unexpected. At first, it was just little things like lots of sidearm hugs, or Sole constantly grabbing there hand whenever they heard another settlement needed there help and they would just forget to let go and Preston would get too flustered to say anything about it. Over time he got used to there affectionate ways and opened up more especially as their relationship took a turn into romance, he had never been with someone quit as sweet and loving as Sole. Preston loved the surprise of when he would be working on something at his desk and Sole would suddenly plop down on his lap one arm wrapped around his neck while the other took his hat and placed it on there head telling him he should take a break while giving them lots of little kisses on the side of his face, all while giggling because they could see he was a blushing mess. Preston would finally give in and let Sole drag him away as they smothered him with snuggles and more kisses for the rest of the evening or until work dragged them away from each other again.

X6-88: Affection was never part of his life he was created to obey orders and be efficient at killing any threats that stood in the way of The Institute’s goals and if he did feel anything he assumed it was a fault in his programming and would go to get it fixed immediately. Then here comes Sole a clearly bright and capable human, after all, they made it all the way to the Institute and managed to steal a coursers chip so they could teleport here, so right now he was trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Sole was having a severe lapse in judgment as they tried to hug him. He stood completely still a frown on his face as Sole wrapped their arms around him and squeezed tightly, this wasn’t the first time Sole had done this to him but it still confused him every time, if anyone had tried to do this to him he would assume they were making a horrible attempt at trying to subdue him in order to kill him. Every time Sole attempted any kind of affection he would either walk away leaving them hanging as they pouted and complained, or he would remind them that this behavior was highly inappropriate for someone of there stature causing Sole just roll their eyes and remind him he wasn’t going to explode from receiving some affection every once in a while.

#Fallout 4 companions react #reactions blog #Fallout 4 #x6-88 #preston #Piper #Curie #sfw #part 1 #fluffy #and cute

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ifandomalot · 5 years ago

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Hurtful words.

Summary: Steve didn’t mean for the words of his ex to slip past his lips, but also couldn’t deny it.

Steve’s lips met hers with a warm fire that coated his skin in a deep red shade. Scorching skin that made hers even hotter as if his body pressed against hers wasn’t enough.

“You are so beautiful.” His soft voice lets huffs of heat against her neck, a trail of sloppy wet kisses. Between the feeling of his lips and his large hands holding her against his lap, she presses down into his hardness. The soft moan that came from his throat made her shiver.

Slow hands take in the touch of his stomach, the muscles underneath hard, toned with the super serum that coursed through his veins. Her fingers play with the button of his dressy pants. Steve insisted on taking his girl out for dinner tonight. They’ve only been seeing each other for three months now, but it was hard making time to see each other, between his missions and how busy it was being Tony had left half of his empire in her trusted hands.

Steve lets out a small gasp as the small pads of fingers touch his skin so delicately but it made him felt like he was going to explode, she was so close to where she needed him most. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you for a few weeks.”

“Really Steve? Right now?” He chuckles softly, hand cupping her cheeks softly. “Yes right now. I like you, a lot. I should’ve called you.”

“You were busy. I understand. Not everyone has to deal with their boyfriend being a superhero.” Steve’s heart swells at her words, “Boyfriend now?”

It was cute watching her cheeks grow red, blush flushing her cheeks and bared chest. His hand cupping her breast, messaging it.

“I-I mean, -”

Steve kisses her lips gently, a small chuckle rumbling inside his chest. “I’m kidding sweetheart, or should I say girlfriend.”

Ignoring him, her soft hand unbuttons his pants, fingers slipping past the waist band of his boxers. The smooth skin soft against her palm as she touched him, a small whine falling from his lips.

The sound was more than sexy, something she only dreamed of hearing. Small begging, it’s been so long since he’s been touched, years.

The soft moans followed by praises. His rough hands messaging the swells of her breast, his chest falling with every stroke. What she least expected what the burning of her throat as he came closer and closer to his end, she felt as if she was going to throw up the second she heard, “Peggy.”

It was a soft moan, just under his breath, and she would have never caught it if he haven’t kissed her cheek lovingly. All movements stopped, Y/N felt sick as she looked at him with such hurt and he didn’t realize why, but when he did he was mumbling out endless apologizes that she tried escaping by sliding from his lap, but Steve wouldn’t allow it, his arms wrapped around her as he continued to apologize, claiming it was a mistake, he didn’t mean to.

She never felt so stupid in her life, no matter how much Steve said he was over Peggy, that she was his first love, and that’s all she every would be, she believed him. The truth is, Peggy was the love of his life. The woman he still thought about to this day, the one who actually consumes his thoughts at times of pleasure.

“Let go of me Steve.” his face twisted into a look of misery, hurtful expression that at any other time she would just want to kiss away, but the look hurt her even more.

“Sweetheart.” It was more like a beg as tried to reach for her, but she was too quick as she used his chest for support, pushing away from his body, her arms reaching for scattered articles of her clothing before locking herself in the bathroom.

Steve let out a sigh, stopping to knock on the door, just wanting to talk about it. The moment his knuckle met the door, she was out, now clothed fully, clear evidence she had been crying.

“Babe, I’m -.”

“You told me you were over her Steve! you promised me. I told you I would never have gotten involved.” Steve shakes his head at her words, his hands grasping her arms begging her to just look at him, instead of avoiding his undeserving gaze.

“I am.” It was a whine that fell from his mouth as she moved away from the touch, “I only want you.”

“Clearly not. The first time we ever try anything sexually, you are thinking about her.” Hot tears run against her soft cheeks, all he wants to do is kiss them away. He feels his own eyes start to sting, “I loved her, but with you it’s more, I-I don’t know why I said it.”

“You’re telling me that you weren’t thinking about her touching your dick as if I was her?” Her words spit venom as he stops her from leaving, he blocks the door of his room, the avengers tower was huge, but even the large doorway couldn’t compare to the wall of chest and large muscles of his arms.

“Babe.”

“Don’t you fucking call me that Steve.” Never has he heard his name spoken with such hurtfulness, he broke her heart, and his chest felt heavy because of it. The truth is Steve did care for her, he would even say at this point he was falling in love with her. Every aspect of his life he somehow managed to bring her into it, how would she feel about things? or imagining how moments can be better if she was there.

“I-I love you.” It was hard to say the words, mostly because everyone he’s ever loved was taken away from him, but this moment seemed right. Steve Rogers had never been a liar. Steve saw himself with her until the end of time, waking up to her loving eyes, having the constant comfort that the beautiful, smart, confident woman would make him a happy man. Y/N is what he needed, no matter what she thought.

Peggy was his first love, the only woman he had ever felt emotions like this for, but that was no longer the case. Currently he wanted to fall to his knees, beg for the woman in front of him forgiveness. His chest filled with so much emotion that he was afraid to talk, his voice would surely give out along with the tears that threatened to push past eyelids. If she would walk through that door she would be lost forever.

Peggy did come into his mind during that moment, but not in the way she thinks. More as would she be happy for him right now? His love for her would never die, but his love for Y/N was growing every moment, an undying flame that fueled him for the day. With her he was better, days were brighter, food tasted better, he looked forward to everyday with the knowing of seeing her again, hearing her voice, kissing her perfect, pink lips that could leave any man begging for another taste.

“Stop lying to me. You’re sick.” By sick she meant demented, playing with her emotions because of the knowledge of her feelings. He shakes his head quickly, shushing the sobs that started to fall. Cries of sadness, maybe even embarrassment? but he didn’t like the sound of it one bit, she didn’t deserve this. Steve felt guilty, it crept up his spine, he felt sick to his stomach as he presses her against his chest. “

“I’m not lying. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this. It wasn’t like that, I promise, please listen to me.”

Her soft lips surprised him, so much power in the way hers moved against his. Passion meeting sadness as salty tears mix into their lips leaving a bitter taste of reality. Soft hands push against his chest, despite his solidness he still fell victim to them, allowing her to push him against the wall, giving her just enough room to sneak out of his room.

Steve felt his chest bubble in angst, everything told him to chase after her, but he was frozen in place. His throat closing as he realizes his mistake, tears pushing past blue eyes showing just how sorry he was. For the first time in years Steve felt the pain of a broken heart again.

#Steve Rogers #steve x reader #stever rogers imagine #chris evans #chris evans imagine

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shreddedparchment · 6 years ago

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Man and Wife Pt.09

The Surprise Visit

04/23/2019

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 11,982

*Masterpost in Notes Warnings: violence, language, a smidge of angst, pregnancy cuteness, pregnancy scariness, pregnancy cuteness again, spilled tomato sauce

A/N: So, I asked myself; Do they want it now? Or should I make a third pass of edits? I thought you guys might say, “NOW!” so, I’m posting it now. I’ll edit again tomorrow however, so, heads up! I hope you all like this one. You asked for less angst and I give less angst but there’s still some because come one, it needs to be there, story wise. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo P.S. I’m so sorry I didn’t respond to the comments for part 8! I love y’all!

“Excuse me? Miss! Shit. Hold on.” The chair squeaks loudly as Bucky rises, making himself as small as possible as he lumbers towards the redheaded waitress who’d just left you.

Your heart shakes as you watch him chase after her; tall, strong arms, milky skin. She’s beautiful. You force yourself to focus on Bucky instead. You know why he’s up and you remind yourself that he’s here with you.

Your lips curve up into a small smile as you watch Bucky try hard to be as nonthreatening as possible but still the waitress gasps when she turns around and falls against the register. Bucky holds his hands up and you can tell that he’s apologizing. His cheeks flame red and you feel a twinge of deep affection at his cuteness but also the sting of pain because people are still afraid of him.

He tucks his metal hand behind him, holding it away from the waitress as he gestures towards you and then moves back as the woman sidles along the counter and back into the kitchen of the small sandwich shop you and Bucky had come to for lunch.

You reach down to tug your shirt more tightly over your still teeny tiny bump. You’re not really showing yet. Everyone who doesn’t know you might think you’d just had a big lunch. But to your friends, they see you and they know instantly.

You’re still small enough that your shirt fits loosely around you but because you know the baby’s in there, you fuss over your stomach. The jean cut-off shorts are shorter than you normally wear but Spring seems to be heating up quickly and your hormones must be raging because you’re hot a lot of the time now.

You fuss with your shirt more, thin black and white striped shirt with three-quarter sleeves, making sure not to let the loose cuff around your forearm dip into your ranch. A small stack of sliced tomatoes just waiting to be dipped beside it.

You grab one, holding it carefully between your thumb and index finger, dip it lightly, and savor the flavors as they fall across your tongue.

Moaning with contentment, your stomach fluttering as your hunger pangs grow stronger, Bucky turns towards you at the sound. Even all the way across the shop he can hear your whispered cry of satisfaction.

He smiles at you, watching you chew, then turns back to the redhead as she holds out a small white bowl for him to take.

“Thank you!” He says, too excited but he hurries back towards you and slides into his chair, making it squeak against the floor again. “Here you go, kitten.”

He places the bowl of pickles beside the one with tomato.

“Thank you.” Being this happy with Bucky again…you hadn’t thought it would be possible. You watch him pull his plate closer but after every adjustment he makes to his food, he reaches over and fixes something on your plate. Or he grabs you a napkin and places it on your too exposed legs. Or he pushes your pickles closer. Or he assess the fullness of your lemonade.

You finally chuckle. “Bucky just eat. I’m fine.”

He stops, staring at you as you shove another tomato into your mouth, quickly followed by a plain dill pickle slice and you can almost see the swell of pride as he sits up straighter, breathes in deeply, and then relaxes.

“Okay.” He sighs and finally takes a bite of his sandwich.

The walk into the park is nice. Bucky shoves his hands into the pockets of his black jeans to keep from reaching over and taking your hand.

It’s only been two weeks since you and he “made up”. Things aren’t exactly right yet but they’re on their way and you’re happy. Well…you’re happy until-

“You’re Bucky Barnes, right?” A cool sweet voice stops the two of you in your tracks.

You told him that hat wouldn’t hide him.

“Er…yeah.” Bucky replies, staring at the young brunette. She’s petite, tiny compared to him but the curve of her body tells you she’s woman enough.

“Can I take a picture with you? My cousin has such a crush on you!” She gushes not sparing you a glance.

“Oh um, okay.” Bucky replies nervously and you quickly move aside as the girl settles into the crook of his right arm.

You swallow hard, trying not to let this upset you. She’s a fan. No big deal…right?

But you can’t watch as two more girls hurry forward, friends of the first apparently. You turn away from them and keep walking.

It’s silly. It’s stupid. It’s embarrassing and completely unexpected, but you’re crying as you walk away. The ache in your chest cannot be silenced.

His jogging feet shift along the cement pathway, creating a consistent scrape, scrape, scrape, sound as he catches up with you.

“Sorry about that, I-Y/N?”

You look away from him as he leans forward, trying to get a look at your face.

“Are you crying?”

“I think I wanna go home now.” You mumble, your voice thick around the lump in your throat.

This isn’t your first date with Bucky. For the first he’d really stuck to the cliché. Movie, dinner, and then drinks after, though that had been tea for you and a soda for him. When you’d asked him why he wasn’t going to have a real drink, he shook his head.

“I don’t drink anymore.”

“But…you can’t even get drunk?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Why are you crying?” He asks, moving to stand in front of you to stop your progress.

Angrily you wipe at your cheeks, hating your body for betraying you like this.

Bucky’s head scans the people behind you. “Is it because of those girls?”

You say nothing, afraid of sounding stupid or worse, like a jealous wife. It’s only when Bucky’s warm hands burn through the sleeves of your shirt that you look at him.

“Y/N? Please don’t shut me out. You’re upset. Tell me why.”

He’s right. You shouldn’t keep this to yourself. Not like before.

“Is it really okay f-for me to tell you?”

“Of course, kitten. If I’m doing something or if I’ve said something-”

“I don’t like you taking pictures with hot girls.”

Bucky looks over your head again, searching for his fans.

“Hot?” He asks, confused. He takes a moment, he’s so silent that you think maybe you’ve angered him but when you look at his face, you see the pucker between his eyes as he thinks. “Okay.”

“Okay?” You ask, still staring up at him.

“Okay.” He nods. “No more pictures with fans. Female fans.”

Your mind explodes with glee and then you can see the reality of what you’re asking him. You can see the forums and comment sections of articles and pictures of Bucky with male fans. You can almost hear the disdain on tumblr and Instagram as his intense fan base spouts hate because his controlling wife is so jealous that he won’t take pictures with girls anymore.

“No.” You sigh, shaking your head. “No, Bucky, you can’t do that. They’ll hate me.”

“Who will?”

“Everyone.” You rub your belly, protective of the little one within. You know it’s stupid to fear these faceless people. They don’t actually know who you are, but they know he has a wife. You hate the idea of anyone sending you negative vibes with the baby coming. “I just wanna go home.”

You stare at his chest, unwilling to look up and see the disappointment in his face. Hot hands cup your cheeks, strong thumbs—one cool, one blazing—rub rough circles as they wipe away tears. The gesture does what he wants, it makes you look at him.

“I love you, Y/N. Please don’t doubt that.”

“You’re expecting too much from me, Bucky. You cheated on me. I saw you in bed with someone else. Our bed. I can’t erase that or how it made me feel. I already thought I wasn’t good enough for you-”

He growls but it’s not directed at you, he steps closer, all care of who may be watching flying out the window. “I love you. I’m sorry that you had to see me that way. It’s not something that I ever thought I would do—I won’t make excuses because I can’t but please never say that again.”

“Say what?”

“That you aren’t good enough for me. You are so good, Y/N. Too good. It’s me who doesn’t deserve you.” He suddenly straightens up and sees that a few people are watching. He renews the distance between you and sighs. “Are you free next Wednesday?”

You’re so fucking free. Since quitting your job, you’ve taken on some editing gigs to tide you over but you’re officially out of a job. You nod.

“I want you to meet my therapist. I want you there at my next session.”

“For what?” You wonder, excited that he wants you at something so private but also worried that the doctor will tell you that you’re the reason everything went wrong in your marriage.

“Because I want you to see me, Y/N. And I want you to see the way I see you.”

“Hello again, Y/N.”

“Hello, Dr. Garza.” You take your seat to Bucky’s right. He’s already sitting but he pulls a pillow over for you so that you can lean back against it on the long black sofa. “I’m okay, Bucky.”

“Sorry.” He says and pulls his hands back between he knees. He looks so handsome in his dark gray jeans and bright red t-shirt.

As you fix the pillow, you look up at the doc to see her watching Bucky with keen eyes. You’ve been here three times already and you definitely understand Bucky much more. You see his self-hatred and that alone breaks your heart.

You heard all about his worries for you and can see yourself through his eyes a bit better but mostly that just makes you feel like you’re weak and still—despite his reassurances—ill-suited for him.

“Why are you fussing over Y/N, Bucky?” Dr. Garza dives right in, no waiting and you still beside Bucky, looking to him as you and she both wait for his answer.

Bucky blushes. “I…just want her to be comfortable.”

“What made you think she wasn’t?”

“Nothing. I guess I-I feel guilty.”

You’re in utter awe at the way Dr. Garza can pull these words out of Bucky. He’s getting better at telling you things clearly. Speaking his truth. There are way fewer misunderstandings between the two of you. Less bickering though women are still a problem. And men.

~~~~~~~~~~

You struggle in the aisle, reaching up high to try and grab the large box of paper. Buying in bulk is a necessity. Since you’re on your own now, you have to pay for the expense of printing out manuscripts on your own.

You groan, pushing yourself up higher on your tiptoes and manage to get the box to the edge when it suddenly comes barreling towards you, twenty pounds of premium no-smudge paper. You let out a squeak of fear, throwing your arms up over your head but curling in on yourself to shield your tummy from harm.

The box never lands. You feel hot heavy breath hit the top of your head and strong body heat wrapped around your right side. Relief warms you; Bucky had saved you!

Only it wasn’t Bucky. Just a man. No one you know. He’s taller than you, not as tall as Bucky, a soft body—this guy is like you, he doesn’t work out. His blonde hair is long, though nowhere near as long as Bucky’s. His startled brown eyes stare down at you with worry.

“Are you okay, miss?”

You nod. “Y-yes.”

“Hey!” Bucky’s voice cuts through the aisle and you jump, startled by it. Almost as if you were caught doing something wrong.

He’s at your side instantly, moving between you and the man who saved your head. You watch his face and see him glare death at your rescuer.

“What happened?” He asks, then turns his eyes on you, full of concern.

“I was trying to get the box and it fell.”

“I just caught the box, man. She’s okay.” You can hear the tremble in the man’s voice and feel bad for him. Today, Bucky has made no attempt to hide his metal arm. He’s wearing an old black t-shirt, the sleeves cut off and a pair of gray joggers pants.

Bucky takes the box from the guy’s hands roughly, standing much too close to you—not that you mind too much. He looks really fucking good in that shirt and those pants—clearly displaying his claim.

“Yeah, thanks for saving my wife, bud.” Bucky’s words are kind, but his tone is a downright threat.

All sweat and stutters, the man nods, gives you a nervous smile and when Bucky drops the box of paper into your cart, the man jumps then turns and scurries away.

“That wasn’t nice.” You tell him. “He was just trying to help me.”

“I know he was.” Bucky says, and in one of the only moments that you let him show you affection, he reaches up and tucks your hair behind your ear, slipping his hand around your waist. “I thanked him.”

“You threatened him, Bucky.”

“You’re impossible to resist protecting. You bring that out in people, you know that? Especially guys.”

“Don’t be stupid.” You scoff and turn away from him to push your cart into the next aisle. He falls in step behind you.

“I’m serious. It’s like people can’t help it.”

By people, you know that he means Henry. You can hear the drag in his voice as he tries to sound as nonchalant as possible.

You stop, turn to face him, leaning against the cart so that the long handle pokes into your back.

“Bucky, I only slept with H-” His eyes are ice-fire, searing and angry. “-with him because I’d known him for so long. I used to like him. I wanted to be with him at one point. I’m not going to sleep with some random guy I just met.”

Of course, the irony of the sentence you just spoke is not lost on you and Bucky’s eyes soften. The fire of rage extinguished as he laughs once.

You laugh too. Squeezing your eyes shut before you open them again to watch him smile.

“No.” Bucky agrees but he moves towards you and turns you around so that you start to walk again, pushing the cart. He leans in towards your ear, his hands and arms right beside your own on that cart’s handle. “Not again, huh?”

You give in, the moment too good to pass up. You lean back, letting him walk with you, relishing in the comforting warmth of his hard chest. “Never again.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Why?” Dr. Garza wonders.

You try not to look at Bucky when he’s baring his soul. He doesn’t need the added pressure of you staring at him.

“Because of what I did. Sleeping with P-” He stops, like you did in the office supply store, knowing that hearing her name will bring you pain. “-with that other woman.”

“Y/N?”

You look up, surprised to be addressed when all the sessions before had taken place as if you weren’t sitting in the room with them.

“Yes?”

“How does Bucky’s fussing make you feel?”

You swallow hard, hesitant about speaking the truth.

“There are no secrets in this room, Y/N. We don’t hide how we feel. We speak it aloud. From what I understand, you’ve always had a problem with telling Bucky how you’re feeling?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Why?”

“I was afraid.” You admit, staring at Dr. Garza and only her. You can feel Bucky’s eyes on you though, his body angled towards you.

“Of what?”

“Of making him angry. Of-fighting over nothing. Of being a nuisance?”

“You’re not a nuisance, Y/N.” Bucky rushes to say. “How can you-?”

“Bucky.” The doc says sternly, and he clenches his jaw, shutting himself up. “Let’s not interrupt Y/N when she’s talking. I want you to really hear her, okay? And wait until she’s finished before replying.”

Bucky nods.

“Why did you feel that way, Y/N? What made you think that you’d be a nuisance to Bucky?”

You laugh once, a scoff more than anything, but it isn’t bitter, just an exclamation of exasperation. A duh. “Look at him.”

Even with his face all scrunched up, body curled toward you as he fights his urge to reach out to you, he’s visual perfection. Guy that look like Bucky don’t date girls like you, much less marry them. Or so your experience has taught you.

“Bucky is the most handsome man I’ve ever met. And he married me? It’s-I’ve pinched myself a million times trying to see if it was a dream.” You shake your head.

“Is that the only reason that you married Bucky?”

“No! Of course not. His…I didn’t even like him when I first met him. I thought he was a pervert.” You admit, and this time you smile.

“Why?”

Bucky’s also smiling and he meets your eyes. The two of you laugh and Bucky clears his throat. “We sort of met in an unconventional sort of way. I tripped and went headfirst into her chest. She was wearing this low pink V-cut bathing suit. It was pleasant for me. Not so much for Y/N.”

Your cheeks burn. “I didn’t fall for him until he showed up with a bandage for my foot. I’d skinned it when I was walking around the lazy river ride, with the tubes? I’d been limping around on it and Bucky found me. Apologized for the way we met, and then dressed my foot.

“I knew who he was. I’d been a fan before. His story, although I’ve learned more details recently about his experiences, it moved me. So, when I met him, I wasn’t afraid of him like some of my friends in high school had been. All I saw was this sweet guy trying to apologize for shoving his face into my boobs.

“It was that more than anything that drew me in. He was so careful with me, so easy with his smile. I really did fall in love with you that day, Bucky. And when I agreed to marry you, I-I knew that it would be hard, but I never expected this to happen.”

And suddenly, you’re crying, your chest burning with pain and remorse because you did it to him too. You hurt him the way he hurt you. And yours…it feels worse because from what he’s said, the woman he’d slept with had been convenience. She’d just been there.

Henry for you had been deeper. A buildup and culmination of four years of pent up attraction. Emotions had been involved there. You’d liked Henry.

“So,” Dr. Garza says carefully. “How does Bucky’s fussing make you feel, Y/N?”

You turn to look at her, tearing your eyes away from Bucky as your tears continue to pour, rapid falls carving salty divots.

“Guilty. I hurt him too. I should have done more. I should have told you that I don’t like being away from you for days on end. I should have told you that when you leave me in the mornings, it feels like you’re choosing other people over me. I shouldn’t feel that way because I know that Steve and Sam are important to you. But it was too much. You were gone for days and then you still chose to be with them over me when you were finally home? And I should have told you that it was hurting me.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Bucky’s face is contorted with agony, his right hand reaches out for your left and you take it, you squeeze it. You hold on for dear life because this man is everything. He’s your life, your family, your home, and he’s hurting too.

“I should have told you that I wasn’t well.” He speaks in a whisper, the room already so quiet, it’s easy to hear him. “You had already done so much for me—I wasn’t having nightmares anymore. I was able to get through the day without a spazzing out, but I still wasn’t safe for you. I was still terrified of hurting you.”

“Why then? Why did you sleep with her?”

Bucky shuts his eyes and hangs his head, squeezing your hand tighter.

“It’s like you handpicked her to check all of the boxes for everything that I’m insecure about. I know that I’m not athletic. I can’t fight someone off. I can’t lift a twenty-pound box over my head. My muscles are soft and I’m not as fierce as you wish I was.”

“You’re perfect, Y/N. Just.As.You.Are.” Bucky insists, gritting his teeth as tears fall from his eyes too. They pool at the edges then spill over, falling on your hand. “I-For a moment I did wish that you were stronger, that you were l-like one of the agents I work with if only because I can’t bear to leave you unprotected. I told you the other day that you bring an instinctive urge out in people to want to protect you and in me…the thought of anything happening to you fills me with so much dread that sometimes I can’t sleep at night.

“Every moment that I spend away from you feels like a lifetime. I am not at ease unless I know that you’re safe and that is on me. It’s not a responsibility that I should have tried to put on you. I love you, just as you are. You are all that I want. Every single moment I spent with that woman was torture. I just needed to stop thinking. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses it, clinging to your hand as if his life depends on it.

For a few minutes the two of you simply cry together.

“Y/N?” Dr. Garza pulls your attention back to her. “Do you believe that Bucky loves you? Truly?”

You look back at Bucky and the blue in his eyes seems to swirl and melt, pained adoration flowing from them as he stares right back at you. You nod.

“Yes.” You weep, inhaling a shuddering breath.

“Bucky? Do you believe that Y/N loves you?”

He’s already nodding. “Yes. I do.”

You don’t know why that makes you so happy. Your chest tightens and then bursts with relief. You scoot closer, and Bucky already knows what to do. He leans in, the two of you kiss, just a quick fierce peck, before he pulls you tight against his chest.

Your weak arms, wrapped around his torso, squeeze him harder than you’ve ever squeezed before. And you know that this doesn’t fix things. You know that there is still going to be so much struggle and hard work to overcome. The thought of Bucky sitting next to a beautiful girl still fills you with terror just as another man saving you from harm must fill him with agony.

It’ll be a work in progress but for the first time since you agreed to give Bucky a chance again, to go on a date with him, you feel confident that he will choose you and not because of your baby, but for you.

The idea of going back to the apartment, of moving back into that place where your world ended, is unthinkable. You don’t go back.

At six months pregnant, you and Bucky are doing much better. You see him nearly every day. His presence at Casey’s is starting to grate on her nerves but she’s a good sport about it and tries not to glare at him too much.

Physical contact has returned too. Bucky can take your hand and you don’t pull it away. He can hug you, rest his hands on your belly over your shirt, and it’s alright.

He talks to the baby. A mystery because both you and Bucky have decided to wait until the they’re born to find out if it’s a boy or girl. It doesn’t really matter either way. You’re both just happy to have them coming.

Since that day in Dr. Garza’s office however, you and Bucky haven’t kissed again. You’re not sure who among the two of you is resisting. You don’t know if you would tell him no again, and Bucky doesn’t try.

It’s been weeks since Bucky’s gone out on mission. He’s doing it for you. You know he is. Sometimes, when he’s visiting at Casey’s, he gets a phone call and moves to your window to stare out at the front of the building.

He does it again today. He’s laughing, his lips pressed against your bump as the baby in your belly moves. “Ooh, that was a fart.”

“No, it wasn’t!” Bucky protests. Refusing to believe that his baby is farting all day in your belly.

“Yes, it was.” Another small bump pops up, right against his lips. “Eeewwwwwww! The baby just farted into your mouth!”

Bucky throws his head back and laughs, his hands placed on either side of your tummy, the white t-shirt stretched taught over your swollen belly. He’s laying to your left, leaning over your thighs so that he can caress his baby comfortably.

You chuckle with him, your laugh quieter as you enjoy the vision and sound of his melodic laughter. A deep baritone, smooth and easy.

His phone rings, and your laughter dies almost instantly. Bucky’s trails off slowly as he reaches into his pocket to fish out his phone.

The shift in his eyes as he reads the name on the screen would be imperceptible to anyone but you. A hardness ices his blues. He kisses your belly one more time then scoots to the edge of the bed as he swipes his fingers across the heated glass.

He’s on his feet, moving towards your window as you push yourself to sit up straight against the headboard of your bed. Your hands move along your tummy, smoothing the wrinkles of your shirt.

“Hello?” Bucky looks at you and smiles as the other person on the phone talks quickly.

You return his smile though it doesn’t reach your eyes.

He mouths, Sorry.

You shake your head.

“No.” Bucky says sternly, turning his back on you to look out the window. “I said no, Steve. I’m not going.”

You can see the tension roll down along Bucky’s wide shoulders. He holds the phone with his metal hand, his right held up against the windowsill as he squeezes the wood. Steve must be trying to convince him to go on whatever mission they’re about to run.

“Bucky-?” You probe, intent on telling him to go. He’s been by your side long enough. He has to do his job. He might not like it all the time, but it’s in his blood. And you’ve learned more about Elias and this fight is personal for Bucky.

Bucky had confessed not long after that breakthrough session with Dr. Garza that Elias was Swiss. He’d been found by an unknown party in the back room of the same Siberian Hydra facility where Zemo had lured him, Steve, and Tony to.

He’d killed all the other Winter Soldiers before they’d even arrived, save for one, hidden in a back room behind a secret door; Elias. Fucking Hydra and their secret doors.

The difference between Bucky and Elias is that Bucky at his core is inherently good. He wants to help, save, build, and love. Elias had been plucked from some criminal group, already an elite trained assassin, and made more deadly with Super Soldier Serum.

The Avengers have been chasing him across Europe for the better part of a year. Now, with your one-year wedding anniversary weeks away, Elias had snuck into the States and after you and Bucky reconciled, have been pursing without Bucky’s help.

“I’ll come look at the tapes, Steve, but I’m not going. I’m right where I should be.” He says, almost angry. “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up and you sit up straighter, resting only your right hand on your stomach as Bucky turns back towards you.

“You have to go?” You know he does.

“Yeah. It’s getting late anyway.” Bucky sighs, clearly hesitant to leave your side. “But I’ll be back in the morning.”

“Bucky,” You reach out for his hand and he takes it. As you sit up, throwing your legs over the edge of the bed to sit, he sits beside you. Right beside you, and your heart flutters. He intertwines his fingers with yours and you love it so much you sit and enjoy it for a few silent seconds.

“I don’t wanna go.” He assures you.

“I know that.” You sigh lightly and pull your eyes away from his hand tangled with yours. His own eyes are searching, his rose-pink lips slightly parted. “But you should go with them.”

“What?” He’s surprised. Why? You know why.

“You should go with them. You’ve spent the past two months with me. You haven’t gone on any missions-”

“Because I want to fix this. I want to show you that you’re all I want.”

“And you have, babe. But I don’t want to feel like I’m taking you away from your own life. You had one before you met me, and I never wanted you to feel like I was trying to make you give that up. I just wanted to be included.”

He looks down at the floor by your feet, a pained frown overtaking his features. You let his hand go and reach up to wrap it around the back of his head, gentle fingers trailing into the short soft tufty hairs at the nape of his neck. He shuts his eyes, his face relaxed of all stress with your touch.

“And you have included me. I know why you tried to keep me at a distance now. We can work through that. It won’t be easy but I’m willing to try if you are.”

“Of course, I wanna try.” Bucky sighs. “But what if I come back and I’m…that night we fought, when I yelled at you-what if that happens again?”

“It might. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

He meets your eyes, blue fire boring into your soul. He scans your face, memorizing the shape of your brow, the plump of your lip, the curve of your nose. You do the same. He’s so damn beautiful. Even in his pain and uncertainty, he’s not perfect. And you love him for it.

“Next time.” You sigh, giving up. As his left hand finds your belly, and his right arm wraps around your back, he nods. “I’ll go to the next one. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Bucky’s been gone for a hot minute. The night is late, and you can hear the emptiness of the rooms around you. Casey always stays with Sam the night before a mission, not that you blame her, but you also hate the solitude of the empty house.

You move back down the hallway, headed back to your room after having to pee for what feels like the tenth time tonight. You caress your tummy but yawn and speak. “Move off my bladder, ducky, mommy wants to sleep.”

With half-lidded eyes, you meander back into your room, sit on the bed, and yawn once more. You reach over to shut off your lamp when a shift in the dark corner by the very same window that Bucky had stood by earlier today catches your eye.

“Bucky?” You ask hopefully, stupidly, because if Bucky were here, he would have come found you in the bathroom or he’d be waiting on the bed. Why would he be hiding in the corner?

Your heart stops and restarts at supersonic speeds as a large looming man steps forward wearing tattered brown rags that might have been a uniform of some sort at some point, a ripped vest with the distinct marks of previous bullets hitting the armor, and no shoes. His skin is dirty, covered in patches of black tar? Dirt, dried blood, and his blonde hair stands at hard odd angles, crusted with grime.

Your eyes quickly find his bright green eyes, piercing, the color of lethal toxin set ablaze. You get no comfort in his green like you do in Casey’s. You can feel the hate radiating off of him, the ill-intent, the violence to come.

Your left hand flies to pull open the drawer of your nightstand, Barnes sitting just inside.

As your right hand flies for the gun, a disgusting dirty one grabs your wrist, squeezing so tight you cry out. You let your instinct drive you and pull your left leg up hard and fast, driving it between the man’s legs.

He groans and drops your hand. You grab the gun, but you don’t get to lift it as the full force of his back-hand swing throws you clear over the bed. You don’t think. You just curl. You wrap yourself around your stomach as your body falls hard against the wall then onto the floor. Something is broken. You can feel it. A finger? Your whole arm? You’re a body of bruises already from one single stupid hit.

Gasping you pull yourself up weakly, Barnes still clutched in your left hand. It takes all the strength in your body to pull yourself up to sit, to lean your arms on the bed and aim. You pull the trigger and it echoes around you filling the air with the acrid burn of gunpowder and the rust of blood.

The man cries out as he reaches up to grab his shoulder. After a long glare at you, his green eyes full of enmity, he disappears through your bedroom doorway. You don’t hear his exit, but you hear the front door burst open.

How long you stay like that you don’t know. You’re shaking, terrified, crying, hurting, and frozen. It feels like hours before you’re finally able to move.

You cry out as you straighten up and then curl in on yourself as you move around the bed, limping because you’d hit your right foot hard against the wall. You’re still sobbing as you find your phone, your hand still a vice around Barnes.

With your phone held tight in your right hand, and the shaking index finger of your left hand, you scroll through the names on your phone and look for The Perv. Barnes’s metal hits the edge of your phone because there is no way that you are letting it go.

He picks up after one ring.

“Hold on, Steve. Y/N? What’s the matter, baby? Can’t sleep?” You’re not unaware of how relaxed and happy he sounds, finally around his friends after devoting himself to you so wholly these past two months. However, you can’t help the wracking sobs that tear through your lump ridden throat at the sound of his voice.

“Y/N?!” He yells, the worry making his voice rise.

“What is it?” Sam asks.

“Bucky?” Nat.

You’re finally able to find your voice after a few unending seconds of loud, harsh sobbing that tears at your throat. “Bucky!”

It’s like his life is over. The sounds you’re making fill him with a fear that he’d never known he could feel.

Compared to the fear of you leaving him, this is worse. The terror in your cries turns his heart to lead and it falls into the pit of his stomach.

He’s running before he even knows where he’s going but there’s only one place you can be. What if you were kidnapped? What if you’d been taken away from him by force?

The nearest exit is the glass doors to the balcony by the living room. He throws them open and leaps, falling three stories without fear. He tucks himself in as the ground rushes up to meet him and he rolls then springs back up onto his feet.

Bucky’s legs have never moved so fast. He’s struggling to breathe when he reaches town. Three a.m. means the streets are deserted, only a car passes him as he flies along the pavement. Your front door sits wide open, several people are standing in your walkway, others are standing on their stoops, glancing towards your and Casey’s house with looks of shock and concern. Bucky doesn’t stop.

He shoves people aside; something must have drawn them out of their homes. What?

The sounds of sirens begin to fill the air as Bucky takes the stairs four at a time. He slides on the top floor landing but turns into your room and nearly falls to his knees at the sight of you howling with tears, kneeling, your bare right foot bright red, turning purple. Your left hand, the heel of your palm pressed against your forehead, is curled around Barnes your pinky twisted into a painful position. It’s broken.

Your entire body is curled protectively around your stomach and as Bucky heaves and struggles to breathe, his shoulders rising and falling violently as he moves towards you, you turn to him and open your arms like a terrified toddler.

Bucky drops to his knees, and pulls you close, holding you tight as you wrap your arms around his neck, almost choking him in your desperation, and bury your face against his thudding pulse as you continue to cry.

He tries to speak but his voice seems to have left him. Instead he breathes out a ragged croak. He shuts his eyes and wills his heart to stop pounding so hard. He inhales deeply through his nose, the gunpowder from the gun sharp and stinging, he can also smell a hint of blood in the air.

He runs his hand along your body, searching, but the faintness of the smell already tell him that the wounded is long gone.

“I’ve got you, kitten.” His voice is still strangled, struggling to come out louder than a whisper. It doesn’t matter however; the timber of his voice seems to relax you. You keep your arms wrapped around him tightly, but he can feel you melt against him.

Running feet pound up behind him but Bucky is so familiar with the gaits that he doesn’t turn. He does however scoot his metal arm underneath your knees and with ease he lifts you up. He turns with you in his arms as Nat, Sam, and Steve stumble to a stop by the doorway.

Steve moves inside, Sam following as Nat holds back, disappearing into the darkness of the house to check the rest of the rooms probably.

“Is she-?” Steve begins.

“She’s okay.” Bucky assures him. “She needs Cho.”

Sam is out the door, his hand on his ear. “Get the jet. Call Helen, tell her we need her in the med bay A-Sap.”

Bucky could have carried you to the compound, but he would prefer the safety of the jet too. He’s silent the entire ride back, his arms holding you carefully, and with you in his lap he’s able to place his hand on your tummy. He rubs it gently, grateful that you’re in one piece if only slightly broken.

Your racking sobs have turned into quiet sniffles and Bucky’s heart aches but also soars at the way you cling to him for comfort. He leans in and kisses your head, offering as much as he can.

As the jet lands, Sam moves towards him but reaches for your left hand to relieve you of your gun.

“Don’t.” Bucky warns him, but Sam tries anyway.

Bucky can feel you tense up and feels your hand wrap around the gun harder. You try to move your pinky and it makes you whimper. With a hiss Bucky gets to his feet and walks towards Sam, a threat in his eyes.

Sam backs up a step holding up his arms to show Bucky he means no harm. “Sorry, Y/N. Sorry.”

Bucky sidesteps him and moves off the jet, into the elevator, and all the way down to the med bay.

“Y/N? Can you hear me? Come on, baby, open your eyes.” His voice is so tempting and warm, you reach for him.

Something isn’t right. Your pinky won’t bend. You groan, your right foot also hurts and feels too tight.

“Bucky?” You whisper, your voice hoarse. Why is it-? “Bucky!”

You shout, sitting up so quickly your back cracks and protests against the sudden movement. Your mind floods with the scramble for your gun, the sharp pain of a harsh hit, the crumble of your fall, and then the panic as you called Bucky and all you could do is scream for him.

“I’ve got you, kitten. I’ve got you.” Bucky's arms are around you, and you quickly wrap yours around him again. He repeats those words, over and over, rubbing your back over the soft, over sized pink cotton shirt you wear to bed. “I’ve got you, kitten. I’ve got you.”

You stay there, in his arms, unwilling to let go because the fear coursing through your body is paralyzing.

When Bucky speaks again, his voice is proud, he squeezes you once and then resumes rubbing your back. “You shot him.”

He already knows who it is that attacked you? “Who?”

“Elias.” Bucky sighs, his voice tells you that crinkle between his eyes is prominent. “We think he noticed my absence. He and I have more in common than I’d like to admit. Maybe not fundamentally but he was made like me. Only difference is he enjoyed it.”

“The other Winter Soldier?” You whisper, realization hitting you smack in the face—no, that was Elias’s hand. You must look like a walking bruise.

“So, he came after me?” Your fearful hitch makes Bucky push you back a little if only so that he can stare into your eyes with anxious blue steel.

“No. I think he was looking for me. He followed me there and was probably curious. When he saw you-”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Did you reach for your gun first, or did he hit you first?”

“I reached for the gun. He stopped me, hurt my wrist.” You pull your arm up and look at the skin, bruised, swollen slightly too. “I was worried…about our ducky and I just reacted. I didn’t think. I kicked him and then I grabbed the gun but then he hit me, and I remember hitting something hard,”

“The wall.” Bucky says.

“-and got up and shot him. I couldn’t even hold up the gun, Bucky I’m such shit to protect our baby. I had to rest my arms on the bed to keep them steady. What if he’d hurt our ducky?”

“You did amazing, Y/N. You fought him off. And the baby is perfect. Helen says that she’s never seen a baby so healthy and perfect, but she called Dr. Carroll for you and she checked you over too.”

“Dr. Carroll was here?” Shock widening your eyes.

“She was.” Bucky smiles, reaching up to tuck your hair back, caressing what feels like a massive bump that stretches along the entirety of the right side of your face. “She said she understands now why the baby always seemed to have a heartrate much faster than normal. She seemed kind of impressed when I told her I was your husband.”

You watch as Bucky’s eyes grow distant for a moment. It’s scary, that wall he hides behind. You haven’t seen it in two months and there it is.

“What, Bucky? Did she say something?”

“No, I just…”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little surprised.” Dr. Carroll reaches down to press the small wand of the much more competent ultrasound machine to your exposed tummy.

“Why?” Bucky asks, his eyes peaked with interest as he watches the screen for his baby. He can already hear that quick thrumming. His little one’s heart! He could kiss the stupid screen for giving him this moment.

His elation is quickly followed by sorrow. He’s missed so much already.

“Ooh, there!” Dr. Carroll sounds a little too excited to see the baby. The image is stunning, 3D, and Bucky can already see that the baby has your nose. The rest of him or her, looks a little like it’s still forming. He can see eyebrows, patchy, like they’re still filling in, shut eyes, big ones. The chin is too small still and the cheeks still not puffed like he’s seen some babies get.

“Is that our baby?!” He asks excitedly, forgetting his sorrow.

The baby suddenly twitches and Dr. Carroll smiles then chuckles. “They like your voice.” She says, explaining the sudden movement.

“My voice?” Bucky doesn’t understand why, or how the baby would even know to distinguish his voice as something to like. He’d missed out on the baby’s first four and a half months. At six months, with only a collective two and a half months of hearing him and the first month of that sparingly because he was always away on mission, he finds it hard to believe that the baby knows to like him.

“Yeah. See.” Dr. Carroll adjusts the wand so that the baby is on display on its side, profile clear and that is definitely your nose! “Try and say something.”

“Uh, hey little one. I’m er…I’m your daddy.” Bucky says nervously.

The baby twitches again, kicking their little legs and at the same time, Bucky can see the kick on your stomach. Bucky’s eyes water. How is it possible that the little one knows it’s him? He looks at you and leans his forehead against your temple. Your face, swollen, beaten, and asleep looks peaceful, despite the purple and red-blue marks on your right side.

“I told you our ducky wasn’t farting.”

Dr. Carroll is silent as the thrumming continues to fill the room. When Bucky finds it weird that she still hasn’t said anything, he looks up at her, sitting up straight again. She’s staring at him and you, her eyes narrowed slightly.

“How long have you two been married?” She wonders.

“Almost a year.” Bucky tells her. “Just under two months left.”

“I didn’t think she had a husband. She never mentioned one when she first came to the office. I felt so bad for her, nervous thing that she was, I figured it was a one night stand or—something worse with how terrified she was? I tried not to ask. But she took two pictures.”

Bucky nods. “She gave it to me a few weeks ago.”

Then because curiosity overwhelms him, he asks, “Why didn’t you think she was married? Why did you jump to the conclusion that she must have gotten pregnant under different circumstances?”

“Well,” Dr. Carroll removes the wand and Bucky is almost heartbroken to have the thrumming stop. However, if he strains his ears hard enough, he can hear its little murmur. “She just seems so-”

“Helpless?” Bucky offers. Dr. Carroll laughs, just a huff, as she nods.

“Yes. Plus, no ring.”

“Huh?” Bucky asks, confused now. And then it dawns on him what she must be talking about and even though he makes the connection she explains anyway.

“No wedding ring. She wrote ‘Mrs. Y/N Barnes’ on the paperwork for the office but lots of unwed mothers do that, just in case they may be judged.”

Bucky feels like an utter ass for realizing, just a little under two months before your one year wedding anniversary, that he has yet to get you some FUCKING wedding rings. He sinks into his seat as Dr. Carroll cleans up and Bucky’s still staring at your wounded face when she pats his shoulder.

“Congratulations, papa. You’ve got a strong, healthy bun in the oven, and a momma who can kick ass to defend her baby.”

Bucky gives her a tight smile because she’s right. You might be passed out right now, the shock probably pushing you into unconsciousness, and you may be timid sometimes and unathletic and an adorable bookworm, but you are strong. You’re so smart and a survivor. And you’re perfect, just as you are.

~~~~~~~~~~

He runs his thumb over the ring finger of your left hand, but you don’t notice the movement. You can only stare at his nervous expression.

“I never got you wedding rings.” He explains, blinking slow before meeting your eyes in fear of upsetting you. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Bucky…” You smile, ignoring the way it makes your face sting. “I don’t need rings. I know you love me. And I love you, so much.”

You see a set of defiance in his expression. He disagrees about the rings and you’re not sure if it’s because a wedding ring on your finger might somehow deter big men trying to help you? Or maybe he wants to make sure that you know that he isn’t ashamed to broadcast that he’s married? Or perhaps it’s his old fashioned notions which he tries hard to hide, that are telling him that if he wants to make it really official, he better get you a damn ring.

Sometime during the day Bucky winds up beside you, laying with you, arms wrapped around you with your head pillowed on his strong fleshy bicep. A knock on the door pulls the two of you awake and as it opens Bucky looks towards it as he tightens his hold on you and you bury your face into his chest because the light that streams in from the bright hallway shines bright in the dark recess of your recovery room.

“What?” He asks, somewhat rough with his tone, his voice muffled and making his chest vibrate as he speaks.

“We caught him on camera, fleeing towards the Canadian border. It’s time to go.”

You don’t like the sound of that one bit. You don’t like the way he’s talking to his friends either. Something’s not exactly right with Bucky still. However, you have no time to delve into that because Bucky sighs and carefully gets up.

“Y/N, I gotta go.”

You want to hold him close, keep him here in your arms. But you can’t. So, you sit up as he sits and pulls his shoes back on.

“Please tell me you’ll be safe, and you won’t try to do anything stupid like retaliate for last night?”

“I can’t make any promises, kitten. The goal is to get him in alive but after last night-”

“Bucky,” You say, chastising him and wishing more than anything that you could tie him down and keep him here. “We’re here, waiting for you. You can’t do anything stupid because I can’t raise this baby on my own, you got that?”

Bucky looks at your tummy and hurries back onto his feet. He takes hold of its sides and presses kiss after kiss against the swollen tummy. “I’ll be back, ducky, I promise.”

He looks up at you and for a moment you forget the upset. You forget that Bucky cheated on you and he forgets that you did too. You forget the ignoring and the shutting out all for just a few perfect moments of staring into Bucky’s eyes before he runs out and puts his life on the line again.

The danger you felt last night, the trauma you’re sitting with here now, it’s all part of his chosen experience but also forced on him too.

“I promise.” He whispers and as much as the moment wipes his and your debts clean, it doesn’t last. He leans in to kiss your forehead, the awkwardness keeping him from really kissing you goodbye.

Bucky feels like a failure. He feels inadequate. He feels like he let you down. His disappointment is a black hole, consuming any and all positivity from your recent reconciliation.

He has you in his life. Maybe not how he wishes you were, but you hadn't asked him for a divorce which had been his worst nightmare. Losing you and his baby and you also shunning him and refusing to let him see his ducky is his idea of hell.

Yet, despite the pit of despair he's fallen in from having failed to catch Elias, he smiles. Sitting with his elbows on his knees, leaning forward with his hair a greasy curtain from not showering for several days and his skin coated with the filth of the mission, he looks across the jet, at empty seats. Sam and Steve at the front letting Bucky have his space so that he can decompress.

The smile is small due to the memory of the first time you used the term ducky to refer to the baby growing inside you. His baby. His perfect little angel. Like you.

It's been almost two weeks since he left you to chase Elias with Steve and Sam. The bastard had led them on a winding chase, jumping back and forth over the Canadian border.

Your pinky will still need lots of time to heal and your ankle had only been sprained. You should be up and walking around without the need for crutches. Your bruises will probably be almost completely faded. He sighs, a heavy worried breath as he pulls his phone from his pocket.

He looks for your name, scrolling slowly with his flesh thumb. He stops at My Kitten and swipes his finger across the name. When he presses it to his ear, it's already ringing. You answer after two rings.

“Bucky?!” Your voice is like a salve on his fretting heart. He shuts his eyes, the sound of you beautiful even with the worry thick and heavy, and enjoys the moment, knowing that even though you've moved out, you still love him.

“Hey.” He whispers, his voice weak and exhausted. He can’t even remember the last time he slept. “God, Y/N. It's so good to hear your voice.”

There’s silence on your side and Bucky reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Baby?” Bucky probes.

“Where are you?” Your voice cracks and Bucky knows you’re crying. He hates the thought of you with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“What's the matter?” Bucky demands, sitting up straighter, more alert. Sam turn to look at him and Steve steals a glance.

“Ugh, nothing! I’ve been crying over everything lately. This baby is kicking my hormonal ass.”

Bucky's heart leaps, his eyes relax, and he slouches against the synthetic leather seat. With a wide smile he presses the phone closer to his ear, wishing he could hug you tight and kiss your tears away.

“Oh. I’m sorry, kitten.”

“You should be! This is all your fault.” You’re not crying anymore and for once this is something Bucky is definitely happy to take the blame for.

“Bucky where-?” As your voice cuts out, he pulls the phone away from his ear. Lost signal.

“Damn.” He grumbles quietly.

“Lost signal again?” Sam asks, amusement in his voice.

Bucky glances up at him and then looks back at his phone as he opens up his messaging app. “Yeah. I’ll just text her.”

Sam shakes his head. “I told you to just ask Tony for one of his new phones. We get signal everywhere.”

Bucky frowns as he types a quick message telling you he's on his way and should be home in an hour.

“Mmmm.” He acknowledges Sam's suggestion but otherwise ignores his advice. He doesn’t like asking Tony for things.

“Was Y/N okay?” Steve asks, his brow furrowed with worry.

Bucky looks at his reflection in the glass and nods. It still throws him for a loop at how protective the team is over you. After the break in at Casey's, even Tony was frantic to get the townhouse upgraded with top if the line security.

Sam was ecstatic.

“Yeah. Yeah, she's just…the baby's making her hormones go a little bonkers. She was crying so, I got worried.” Bucky flips the phone a few times leaning forward once more to place his elbows on his knees again.

“You guys still doing okay?” Steve probes carefully. He's surprised Bucky is so calm, and Bucky can see the caution in Steve's storm blue eyes.

After what happened at Casey's, after feeling the beastly fear of losing you—to Elias, not the cheating—somehow, he can hold onto that and it manages to outweigh the buzzing in his brain.

“Yeah. We’re good. I just-” He blinks slowly then looks at his phone as it buzzes.

My Kitten: I can’t wait to see you. I’ve missed you. And the baby won’t stop kicking! My heart is pounding and our ducky is flipping out. LOL!

Bucky smiles again, running his fingers over the text. “-I can’t wait for her to come home.”

When the jet finally lands, Bucky knows that it isn’t likely, but he goes to his room. He’d been unable to contact you until today, but he’d hoped that you had chosen to stay on the compound.

The room, as he had expected it to be, is empty. No one has been in here since the last time he’d slept here which had been before he’d nearly fucked everything up by sleeping with Penny.

He wants to see you and he wants to see his ducky, but a shower might be better first. He’s disgusting.

He’s slow as he walks to his apartment door, reminding himself the whole way that he cannot fall asleep. He can’t let himself give in to his exhaustion. No matter how many days he’s gone without sleeping, he needs to see you first.

Falling against the door, his forehead pressed against the cool and carefully painted metal, he shuts his eyes and clumsily presses his right hand’s thumb to the teal green panel. It beeps and the door clicks. With a groan he pulls it open and stumbles inside.

He only makes it three steps when he realizes that something isn’t right.

The large shared living and dining room light is on. Although the entryway is dark, there’s light spilling out of the kitchen too.

There’s a sudden shattering of glass and a gasp. Bucky races towards the kitchen, dropping his bag by the door.

His heart nearly stops then begins to pound as his eyes take in the most magnificently gorgeous sight he’s ever seen.

“You’re home!” You gush and Bucky can almost count the sparkles in your eyes. You’ve never looked so happy to see him and it feels like finally the world has been put right. “I’m-I was making some spaghetti. I…dropped the sauce. Serves me right for not making it from scratch, right? And…now we’re out of sauce. But I can run to the store! I’ll get some more, and we can have spaghetti and meatballs. I took the recipe out of that little book you keep in the drawer by the sink.”

His mom’s recipe!

“Shoot, I should clean this first.” Bucky scrambles forward, throwing his flesh arm out towards you in a stupidly dramatic ‘stop’ motion.

“No, wait. I’ll do that.” He flips his hand over and instead motions for you to move towards him with two flicks of his fingers. “Come here. Be careful. Don’t step on the glass.”

He looks at your feet, you’re barefoot and beautiful. Is it possible to fall in love with you further?

You take a gingerly step towards him, but Bucky moves towards you, stepping on the smooth black granite flooring where there is no sauce, and as soon as you’re within reach he wraps his arms around your waist. He takes care to support your belly and lifts with ease, twisting you back around towards him and the entrance to the kitchen.

He can smell the pan overheating. If he doesn’t turn off the stove there’ll be a fire, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is the fact that you’re here, in the apartment. Finally, home.

“Let me look at you.” He sighs, and you smell so damn good, like fresh Freesia and clean linen. It’s like your dress was infused with the scent because you’re wearing a sleeveless dress, blue skirt with a white and pink floral pattern, the top—just above the curve of your pregnant belly—a sharp block waistline separates the white top.

Bucky can see that the bruises on your face are almost fully faded. Your pinky is still in its tiny splint. Your ankle still wrapped but looking much less swollen, and there are minuscule red spatters of the sauce on the white but you’re perfect and you’re beautiful and he really wants to kiss you but you’ve got that nervous look in your eyes so he can’t so instead he pushes your hair back and pulls you into his chest.

You wrap your arms around him and it’s like he’s flying. “Does this mean you’re coming home?”

The silence that follows this hopeful question worries him but then you’re sniffling, and he chuckles, pulling back to look at your sobbing face.

“Ugh!” You actually stomp your foot and Bucky really wants to fucking kiss you! “Stupid hormones. Yes! I’m home. I’m home.”

When you wrap your arms around him, he pulls you close once more while waves of heat waft towards him as the pan you’d been cooking with bursts into flames.

Bucky’s trying to coax you into the bedroom, but you don’t make it any further than the entrance of the hallway. He’d already showered and you’d already washed the dishes even though Bucky had told you that you didn’t have to do them, but with all the joy of finally coming home, you can’t make yourself move towards that stupid room where your life was torn apart for a little while.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks, adjusting his metal hand so that he can intertwine his fingers with yours instead of letting you pull your hand out of his like you’re trying to do.

“I don’t think I can go back in there, Bucky.”

“What?”

You can see the disappointment on his face. He has to understand though, you can’t make yourself go back in there when what you saw ruined you forever for the beautiful bedroom you’d had before. You’ll sleep on the couch before you sleep on that horrible bed.

“I-I just can’t.”

“Y/N,” Bucky begins, moving closer, pulling your hand up to hold against his chest. “Do you trust me?”

With my life? Yes. With other women?

“Don’t answer that.” Bucky shuts his eyes tight and laughs without humor at the stupidity of his question. “Will you please, trust me? With this?”

You consider his expression, the gentle pleading, the worry, the blue of his eyes and his freshly washed hair. God, he smells like a rainforest waterfall with the slightest hint of cucumber.

“Okay.” You give in, unable to help it. His dark grey t-shirt, the black sleep pants, the damp tendrils of hair sticking to the sides of his face, it all mixes into an irresistible cocktail of manly perfection.

His face blooms with ecstatic happiness and he pulls you towards the bedroom, your bedroom, adjusting his strength when your feet start to resist.

“I was hoping you’d come home some day and when you did, I wanted you to be comfortable and…I made a stupid mistake, Y/N. An unforgivable one and somehow you forgave me.”

“Bucky…I made that same mistake-”

Bucky shakes his head. “But if I hadn’t pushed you away so hard you would have never been driven towards him. I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you forgiving me was not a mistake and hopefully this can begin to make amends.”

He pushes the bedroom door open and you’re immediately assaulted by the lighter palate. The room is dimly lit, silver lamps with black sconces on burnt chestnut-brown beside tables cast diffuse yellow light on the golden taupe wallpaper. The pictures of you and Bucky rest around the lamps and on new dressers one to the left of the bed and one to the right in the same burn chestnut-brown as the bedside tables.

The bed itself, rather than pushed up against the wall to the right of the room lays straight ahead, with the large windows on either side, currently covered with shiny black thermal curtains. It’s just as big as before, king size, with a white patterned upholstered platform bed frame. The sheets are soft gray with new plush pillows in black cases to match the black high thread count comforter. At the end of the bed is an elegant art deco bench also in white and black.

Immediately to your right however is the pink chair that Bucky had bought for you, on it a small stack of clothes that you’d left there months ago. And to the left the full length black mirror you’d examined your bruises in once upon a time when Bucky had rushed to kiss them to apologize for putting them there in the heat of passion.

Your eyes are streaming with tears again, obviously, because the baby seems fit to make it so that you cry at the drop of a hat and Bucky completely redid your bedroom. He replaced the darkness of your room and made it bright.

Bucky assess the look of surprise and happiness on your face then smiles and gives your hand a squeeze.

“Welcome home, baby.”

You’re propped up on your new bed, chuckling as Bucky recounts the moment that Sam realized he’d forgotten to open his wings after a particularly high jump. It actually sounds really freaking dangerous, but the way Bucky tells it, you know that nothing happened.

“Anyway, that was probably the only good part about the mission.”

“No Elias?” You ask, fretfully rubbing your tummy over you’re the soft white spaghetti strap top of your pajama set.

Wanda had given them to you just after your discharge from the med bay and you’d saved them for this very moment. For when you and Bucky could be together again.

“We saw him, almost caught him a couple times but he keeps slipping us. I’m not sure what to do anymore. How to catch him? I’m so tired of chasing after him.” Bucky admits, focusing on your tummy as his own hand bumps into yours and he quickly catches your hand, brings it to the base of your stomach, and holds both you and your ducky there.

“So, then stop?” You hate how tired he looks. You hate that the circles under his eyes are so dark. You reach up and stroke them then slip your hand into his hair to push it back away from his face.

“I can’t. We can’t. He’s too dangerous. And after what he did to you, I need to get him off the streets, Y/N. I won’t relax until he’s locked up where he can’t get to you again.” Your heart flutters with the intensity of Bucky’s determination.

In response, your ducky kicks and the shirt over your tummy moves. You chuckle, forgetting all your worries with the baby’s kick.

“Is our ducky excited?” Bucky wonders.

“No. Not really. Just…you-” You stop, biting your lower lip because you don’t know if you want to admit how much he still makes you nervous.

“Me?” Bucky asks, wondering, also nervous.

“You make my heart flutter sometimes.” You admit in a rush. “The baby responds to that feeling in my stomach, you know? Those tumbles?”

Bucky grins. “Oh, I know those tumbles.”

Your face must look worried or confused—because you are. Is he thinking about you when he talks about tumbles in his stomach or someone else?—because Bucky is quick to push himself up a bit higher, closer to you. He sighs wafting tart mint against your slightly open lips.

“Hey…” You can see the anger within his eyes. Anger directed at himself. You know it because you feel it whenever you think about what you did with Henry.

Suddenly he’s scrambling off of the bed. “Bucky?”

“Hold on, baby. I’ll be right back.” He rushes out into the hallway and you can hear him thumping around the living room and then two minutes later he’s hurrying back towards you.

He steps up onto the bench at the end of your bed then falls to his knees and crawls across the mattress towards you. He drops back down onto your right side, resting on his metal elbow as he opens his flesh hand. Inside rests a small shiny black box with a velvet covered pearl on top. There’s a small seam straight through the middle that tells you it opens to the sides.

Your breath catches because you know what’s in the box without needing to open it.

“Bucky…I told you I don’t need rings. I know how you feel, and I-I hope you know how I feel?”

“I do.” Bucky assures you. “I know. But I could never forgive myself if I didn’t do this for you because our marriage is just as valid as everyone else’s. The people who date for six years before they tie the knot and us, for two weeks? We deserve to celebrate the way everyone else does. I never want you to doubt how much I love you and this is just that, a reminder. I will never hurt you like I did again, Y/N. You are my love and my life and my only salvation in this long-ass life that I’ve lived. Plus, I’m kinda hoping the ring will help other women to see that I’m taken.”

It’s not like you hadn’t thought about that yourself but it’s so silly. “That doesn’t stop all of them, Bucky.”

He knows you’re right. He doubts whether anything could have stopped Penny, but it gives him some comfort. It helps him remember too that somewhere in the world there’s someone waiting for him, someone who needs him. There’s someone who wants to see him and spend time with him and love him.

“Open it.”

You do. Inside of the pretty box rest two rings, both platinum, but one large with sleek brushed metal at the center and shining silver on the edges; Bucky’s ring. The second is much smaller, feminine in its beautiful vine and floral design and within every leaf and every flower petal is a single diamond. Tiny but altogether, they shine brilliantly in the soft glow of the room.

Bucky takes his and slips it onto his right ring finger, then he takes yours and waits for you to press your left hand on his.

You bite your lip as you watch him slip it onto your finger. Then he sighs. Content.

“It’s beautiful, babe.”

The baby kicks again and Bucky smiles wide while you chuckle. He reaches down to the base of stomach and takes hold of the hem of your shirt. “Can I?”

You nod. Carefully he lifts the shirt and with a bit of self-consciousness, you try to hide the stretched skin marks that litter the base of your belly.

“Our d-ducky grew kinda quickly. And I haven’t been as vigilant as I should be with the cream.” Not that it always helped. But Bucky doesn’t seem to notice your stretch marks. He’s too busy watching your baby kick over and over as your heart flutters the longer Bucky stares.

He leans in and kisses your tummy, skin to skin, searing hot kisses as the baby goes wild.

He looks up to meet your eyes and if you’re honest, until this moment, things hadn’t felt right. They’d been on their way and the two of you had been trying but it’s not until right now, when Bucky’s steel blue eyes darken to silver as he holds your gaze, that things feel good. Finally, things are right.

Unwilling to lose the moment, Bucky leans up to press his lips softly against your own. You whimper, having missed his kiss so desperately. His hand slides from the top of your exposed stomach to your side then up, up, up, until he’s wrapping rough calloused hands around your soft bare back to lay you down carefully as he strips you and then himself to express his serenity at finally having you home.

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thewitchoftherock · 5 years ago

Text

Nightmare

It was the middle of the night in the Fright Zone. Entrapta had gone to her personal quarters a few hours ago, leaving Hordak to his own devices in his sanctum.

Today was a day for biotech. He had moved from the idea of cloning himself a new body, and onto either integrating this technology more seamlessly into his body, or finding a way to regrow and repair his body.

It wasn’t necessarily going well, but he was still in the research phase of his work which involved a lot of reading. His mind was split in two, one part taking in and absorbing the new data- the other side exploding with ideas that he knew would prove impossible as he continued his reading.

He found himself quite entranced - he normally did when he was learning something he found interesting, when Imp scrambled out of the vents, and sat himself on the arm of Hordak's chair, looking distressed.

Hordak pulled himself from the article he was reading, and put his hand on Imps neck in an attempt to calm him.

“What is it.” He asked softly.

Imp opened his mouth, and played a recording. At first he didn’t know what he was listening to. It was muffled, abd inarticulate. He couldn’t make out any words. He strained his ears, listening carefully.

Crying. Soft, pained feminine sobs. His chest tightened for a moment.

“Is that… Entrapta?”

Imp stopped the recording and screeched at him.

“Where.”

———-

Hordak followed imp down the twisting hallways. He ran for the most part, slowing to a walk when he heard someone walking by on patrol. They didn’t question what he was doing roaming the halls at night, they just gave a salute and let him go on.

They knew better than to stop him.

The hallways became vaguely familiar as he approached a nondescript sliding door in the wall. This was Entrapta’s quarters, he was pretty sure. He’d normally be more sure, but last time he was here he had been just coming down from the issue with the corrupted First One’s tech, and his head hadn’t been quite right.

Imp tugged on Hordak’s robes, and pointed to the door. He sighed, looking for a call button along the door, but saw none. There was a pin pad next to the door though - he figured that it had been an old storage closet before Entrapta took it over. This struck him as unacceptable. He was going to have her move. He didn’t know where yet, but somewhere closer to the sanctum. Maybe then she wouldn't feel she had to sneak through the vents all the time.

He plugged the master code into the pin-pad, and was entirely and completely confused when it didn’t open. He tried it again, thinking at first that maybe he had just put the number in wrong, when it came to him that of course Entrapta had changed the code.

He frowned and looked down at Imp. “How did you get in.” He asked. Imp pointed at a ventilation shaft in the ceiling. He picked him up, and held him to the vent. Imp scrambled in and turned to look at Hordak.

“Go in, and check on her.” He said, “If she still… needs assistance, then open the door from the inside.”

There was silence as his sneaky companion made his way through the vents. He watched, hoping that he would come right back, poking his head out and shrugging. He didn’t necessarily want to go into Entrapta’ s quarters without her express permission, but he didn’t want to leave her alone.

A moment later, the door slid open. Imp walked out, brushing his hands together and looking proud. Once he was out, he held out his arms, as though guiding Hordak into the room. He sneered as he swept past him.

The door closed behind him, and the light from the hallway cut out. He could hear Entrapta nearby, still crying softly.

“Entrapta.” He said, his voice low and calm as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of a small lamp that was still on next to the massive pillow Entrapta slept in, giving off a dull purple light. He carefully made his way across the piles of old tools and bits of tech towards her. At first he wondered if she didn’t hear him over her gentle sobbing, but he didn’t think that was the case.

As he approached, he saw that she was still asleep, her face covered in fresh tears. He froze for a moment, hesitant on what to do next, then he gently shook her shoulder, “Entrapta.” He whispered more urgently. Still no response. For a moment, he worried something was wrong. His ears flexed, and he felt his stomach clench as he shook her more firmly, and rose his voice almost to a shout.

“Entrapta!”

That woke her. She rose up quickly, and he felt her hair around him. It happened so fast he scarcely had time to register it- She had knocked his feet from under him with one strand, dropping him against the ‘bed’. As he fell, another grabbed his wrists, and another went for his throat and squeezed.

He was a little impressed with her reaction if he were to be honest.

“It’s me.” He managed to croak out. If he had to breathe like a normal Etherian, he’d probably be in trouble. He got to his feet slowly so as not to startle her. She was breathing heavily, tears still falling from her eyes.

Slowly, she loosened her hair. “Hordak.” she said softly, “Why are you-” A sob interrupted her.

“What’s wrong.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. If someone had hurt her-

He wasn’t prepared for her leaning into him, and just sobbing into his armor. He slowly put his arms over her shoulders, and let he stay there. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he was pretty sure this was the right reaction. She normally did this when he was frustrated with his experiments, or his armor, but she did it with her hair. He hoped this was right.

It must have been, because after a few moments, the sobbing slowly stopped, her breathing slowed, and she started sniffling and wiping her face with her still-gloved hands.

“What happened.” He asked, a little more gently this time. She shook her head, allowing some of her slightly tangled hair to cover her face as she backed away from him, “It.. I’m sorry.”

His arms were still around her. He wouldn’t hold her in place, she wouldn’t like that. He lifted one hand and brushed one of her pigtails out of the way, “What happened?”

She sniffled, “It’s stupid.” She said softly, “I had a nightmare, that’s all.”

Entrapta had told her about her dreams before, and he’d come to realize that yes, though he dreamed, her dreams were a lot more vivid than his, like it was really happening. He didn’t know if that was because she slept longer, or if their brains were just different.

“What did you dream,” He asked, his concern causing his voice to come out in soft hisses, “That upset you so much.”

She turned aside, and let her hair cover her face again. Entrapta was dodging. She was hiding. Entrapta, who had always before been blunt, and open, and honest, and dragged the truth from him when he’d rather stay silent was dodging.

He hesitated, and lifted his hand to her face. He did it slowly, so she could see, and when she didn’t move away he cupped her cheek and turned her face to look at him.

“I came in, and you were sobbing in your sleep. You woke up and you cried into me. You-” He considered his words, “You’re my lab partner.” He finally said, his ears twitching in the darkness, “You’re.. My friend. Yes?” Entrapta nodded once, “Then I won’t stop until you tell me.” He said back to her, then in a pale imitation of her, he said in a softer voice, “So tell me everything, right now.”

She flicked her eyes down, “It’s bad.” She said. Then looked back up at him. “I dreamed about my parents.”

She had never mentioned her parents before, and he’d not asked.

“Are they.. Around?”

“No.” She said, shifting a little closer to him. In the dim light he could see tears welling in her eyes again, catching the lamplight, “They died when I was little.”

Condolences were in order, he knew. “I’m sorry-”

“ She leaned into his chest again, and he could feel her shaking, “I blamed myself when I was younger.” She said softly. “We used to work in a lab together. They were interested in robotics too. My mother, actually, had a robotic arm. That’s how she met my dad - he was a scientist who helped her make a new one. They worked together a lot.” she sniffled and fell silent. Hordak moved his arms so they were properly over her shoulders again. She didn’t seem to mind that.

“ I was just a kid. Nine.I was making my own little robot. Not anything special. I was just making something that would play a tune and dance as it did. Something silly, and I burned myself with a soldering gun. My mom left what she was doing to help me. Whatever she was working on reacted, and fizzed over on the table, then the table fell, and all these chemicals just..” She shuddered, and her hair wrapped around her. “Something exploded. She held me down, and protected me from the blast. “

“You dreamed that happened again?”

She shook her head and shuddered. “No.” She sobbed, “No. When I woke up.. When I woke up I was still under the rubble.” She was crying harder now. “She was on top of me. She was dead, and she was on top of me!” She dissolved into tears against Hordak. “ H-Her arms were all over me, and bleeding,”

He tightened his grip around her. He was used to death, used to corpses, but even he wouldn’t be pleased to wake up under a corpse. For an Etherian child to wake up to the corpse of her mother over her.

He’d seen horrors, but he didn’t know if he could compare. He had been raised to deal with horrors, and he’d never really been a child.

Entrapta started breathing heavily, and calmed down after a few moments, “I dream sometimes, that I’m still under her.” She whimpered, “I can feel her on top of me. I can feel her blood, I can see her eyes.” Another sob.

Hordak didn’t know what he could say, so he held her tight instead. That seemed to calm her. Slowly her hair wrapped around them both like a blanket.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, “I didn’t think you’d hear me.”

“I didn’t.” He said, “Imp did. He let me know something was wrong.”

A sniffle, followed by a dull laugh, “You were spying on me?”

“Imp was.” He corrected, indignant, “He spies on everyone. I think he was worried about you.”

She nodded, calmer now.

“I’m sorry about your parents.” He said. “And… and that you went through that.” He wondered if that was the right thing to say. He was pretty sure it was.

Entrapta nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“... Is… Is there anything you want me to do?”

She was silent for a few long moments, then slowly wrapped her arms around him. “Can you stay here?”

“I can.”

“You’re not too busy?”

“For you, no.” He felt his ears heat up slightly as he took in how corny that was, and how stupid he must have sounded. But Entrapta didn’t notice that. Instead, she leaned down, lowering herself, and Hordak into her bed, and pulling a blanket up over them. She snuggled into him.

“Tomorrow.” He whispered as she started sleeping, “You’re moving your quarters closer to the sanctum.”

“Hrmm..?”

“There’s no need for you to be so far away.” he Insisted. He wasn’t sure where he’d put her - as far as he knew there weren't many places that would be suitable for her near the sanctum; he had designed that area himself when he had it all built. It was his sanctum, and then his quarters.

But he’d figure something out. For now, he was content to just lay there and hold her, listen to her breath slow and soften as she fell asleep.

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

The next morning , he was arranging for Entrapta’s things to me moved as discreetly as possible to his own quarters. He didn’t need them, not really, he hardly slept.

“It’ll be more efficient if she’s closer to the sanctum” he explained to Imp as Entrapta was making another run to bring more stuff over, “And she can keep her tools in the sanctum, and not risk tripping over them in the middle of the night.”

Imp rolled his eyes. Opened his mouth, and let a recording play, “‘you’re not too busy?’, ‘For you, no.”

He’d have to have a talk to Imp about appropriate people to spy on.

#hordak #entrapta #entrapdak #nightmare #fluff #sleep

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ultraclops · 5 years ago

Text

Semi-live Blogging: Return of the Mao Mao Episodes

Before we start, is it just me or is the animation like 10x smoother than it usually is? Also like I said with Nakey, there’s a lot more good expressions too!

Lucky Ducky Mug

Adorabat drinks from sippy cup like baby

"What, Mao Mao's ridiculous mug?" says Badgerclops, holding a cheap plastic big gulp cup he probably got from the grocery store.

How did Adorabat not notice the Lucky Ducky sticker on the Aerocycle

"Don't touch it" (Badgerclops proceeds to slam the table to move it) Ah Badgerclops, ever the contrarian

I'M SORRY DID MAO MAO BLOW THE ROOF OFF OF HQ BY SCREAMING

I love the way Mao says "PROFESSIONAAAL SILENCEEE"

Badgerclops trying to make his mouth disappear and failing made me scream with laughter

Are they seriously reducing Ratarang to 'the funny lil Italian guy'? C’mon guys you’re better than this

Wait why do they think Kevin is Adorabat?? They've seen Adorabat multiple times?? "But they're both blue!" You FOOL Kevin is TEAL there's a difference

Everybody gangsta til Mao Mao's ears start speaking morse code

They're doing surprisingly good silent but it's probably not gonna be that way very long.

Thank you, Lucky Ducky Mug, for catering to my niche interest in characters with neon outlines on black backgrounds.

Mao Mao thinking: Normal thoughts

Badgerclops thinking: Musical-esque singing

Adorabat thinking: Literally just heavy metal

The Sweetypies seriously think they're just playing a really intense game of charades huh,,,

(Mao jabs BC in the stomach with the fire net) HAHA GET REKT

The scene with Badgerclops trying to give Mao Mao Penny's mug is the funniest shit in the world I couldn't stop laughing...or maybe I'm just sleep-deprived

So the Sky Pirates are so similar compared to the Sheriff's Dept. that they can think perfectly in sync? That's cool

SKY PIRATES SONG SKY PIRATES SONG

Why is Snugglemagne throwing a random tea party & why did he only invite the Sheriff's Dept.

Yep there goes the plan. Both of their plans.

Am I going crazy or did the skin on Mao Mao's mouth tear apart like it was sewn shut?! Also yay they're talking again

"It's not gonna stop charging, so I'm just gonna let it explooode..." Mood

"What about the mega laser tube made by mega Losers?" Fsfhkfh

Hey, everyone learned something new from this experience! Are the Sky Pirates gonna try that Hive Mind tactic from now on?

Awww, they fixed his mug with gold - GOD DAMN IT I KNEW THERE WAS A CATCH!!

Lonely Kid

(Sighs) ...I said (SIGHS)

"I literally can't relate to that problem at all." says Badgerclops, who joined a gang because he wanted people to like him.

Shin just dropped off Mao Mao at a summer camp and expected him to make friends? Why does this feel like the plot of Camp Camp

I'm sorry the Mao clan has a freaking PARTY AERO-BUS??

NOO GERALDINE

That BGM is DEFINITELY an extended version of "I Love You, Mao Mao" and I want the lyrics NOW

So Bao was literally just a stray that Mao took home?? Would make sense as to why he wasn't trained

I have a feeling the Flimborg is some sort of sacred being the townspeople worship for some reason

How in the hell did Mao tie that guy up and why didn't he bother to untie him

HOW'D HE SET THE ROCKS ON FIRE USING PAINT

"And then you become frien-" "BEES. IN THE EYES."

"Everyone knows bees are our friends!" "Uh, actually, they were wasps." "Friends to no-one!" Usually I'd agree with BC, but I read an article about someone befriending a wasp and her babies so.

So the Mao clan's just known as the "Golden Cat Family Up The Hill?" Huh. I thought they’d have more recognition, especially since Shin says he went to that same summer camp at the beginning.

Man those kids are jackasses

"Say hi to your mommy!" "I would if she was here..." Excuse me wHAT

Noo don't cry baby boi - tHEN BAO JUST TACKLES HIM ASFHDKDL

"Go away! I don't feel like laughing right now!"

Look. You can see the EXACT point Mao developed his adult personality

I know Mao Mao means well but that is gonna go terribly wrong.

"I AM A HERO! I WILL BE LOVED!!" Okay first of all OUCH, second of all THAT IS PAIN

This monster empty, YEET

Awww it was just a sweet little puppy-ish monster...and it was his BIRTHDAY

"Hi, Aunt Gloria!" (Pulls out pitchfork) BETRAYAL

He didn't feel bad about ruining the festival because he made a friend doing it I 💞💞💝💝💗💗

Thanks for that 'different times' comment cuz I don't want kids thinking being beat is normal.

"Just like you found me...and I'm your best friend!" Tbh I thought she was gonna say 'Me and Badgerclops' & that would make a lot more sense

Why are they fighting over who's his best friend they're obviously BOTH his best friends

I'm sorry did Badgerclops just call Adorabat a "little mutant"?? ARE THE SWEETYPIES MUTANTS??

Awww his friends love him sm...and he feels so loved too...💓💓💗💗💕💕

Try Hard

No one gives a shit about Pinky being kidnapped lol

"K for Copyright Infringement"

"You'll never be like me!" Oof a little harsh maybe?

"You've gotta learn to be your own kind of hero, in your own special way!" So THAT'S where it's from

"You just gotta...try hard." Hey, title drop!

Ngl the moment Mao Mao said "Badgerclops take the shot" I immediately thought of The Confession 3 by TomSka

"Up in a tree, little old me, about to do something...UGLY..." 7-year-old me sniping people on Halo 3 like

Why is he shooting them with gelatin tho? ...oh. Oh THAT'S why.

Tbh if I didn't have subtitles on I would've thought BC was saying "beep boop"

This badger and cat empty, YEET

Adorabat walking into the Skyship with only a walkie-talkie is giving me some sort of vibes...OH, Silent Hill! Or Tattletail

WHOOP HIS ASS SWEETIE

"Mao Mao would hide the body!" Very unsubtle there, wonder how it got past censors

"Ratarang, say something!" "Pasketti?" "THAT'S THE BRAT!"

Wait a sec, they can just use Badgerclops' arm to power the ship? Why didn't they try that in CapturedClops?

"Good thing my head is in here cuz I'm a-scared of heights!" Ramaraffe. Whose whole schtick is making herself taller. Is acrophobic?

"Because she's Sheriff's Department, that's how! >:3" "Also y'all tend to be pretty incompetent >X/"

Why does she keep trying to use the elevator when she can fly? Nvm she climbed up Badgerclops' arm

"Ooooh I'm also hereeee"

"JERK BUTT"

Why is the Omega Field just a bunch of broken glass? And why doesn't she just step around it?

"I can fly!" "She can fly!" "SHE FORGOT?!" Ooh that's why

"You're the best thing to ever happen to a bat like me." 💝💝💕💕💓💓

Wait she's talking through the walkie-talkie and her molts are there but she isn't there where is she?

Oh she was freeing the other two from the gelatin. No wonder Mao Mao almost threw up, it was bug flavored.

GET HIS ASS, HONEY!! ADORASLAP!!

I hope that 'Nah' means Adorabat's realized she needs to be herself instead of her just rejecting her individuality like I think it is.

Scared Of Puppets

Oh, so this takes place after Sleeper Sofa! Praying it's a fix-it episode...

"DISCARD ANYTHING THAT DOESN'T BRING YOU JOY!!" Fuckin Marie Kondo up in here

Oh no PTSD flashbacks. He's scared of them cuz one's head landed on his lap as a kid? Understandable have a nice day.

Who tf collapsed into a sobbing heap on the floor then leaps back up and insists they're fine? Mao Mao, apparently.

Hairless ape? Is that what they call humans or are they something different in general?

"TAKE ALL MY MONEY!!" What did BC want an antique puppet for if he had no idea Mao was scared of them...

Mr. Din Dandalib!

"I...(eye twitch) love him too..."

IM SORRY DID HE FUCKING THROW UP OUT OF FEAR...holy SHIT

If I scared my friend and they threw up I would simply never do that again. RIP to Badgerclops but I'm different

(Badgerclops makes concrete blocks around the pothole) "Why didn't you just fill in the pothole??" "I AM TRYING MY BEST!!"

"I SIGNED YOUR DUMB CAST, NOW LEAVE!!"

...Illegal house plants? ...like marijua-

That was literally just that one video where a guy knocked out another guy in a mask jumping out of a trash can...

So it's a CPR class...AND a hair-styling class? How

I stg the moment Badgerclops walked in the door I knew he was carrying Mr. Din Danalin I SWEAR

"You're 10." "BUT I'M 6??" JFC Shin doesn't know his own son's age AND is partially responsible for his pupaphobia. And I called it on Mao Mao being six in the flashbacks

OH WIG

Can someone take the footage of the Annex exploding and add the ReviewTechUSA intro over it please

"How many Adult Learning Annexes have to be destroyed before you admit you're scared of puppets?!" is extremely funny without context

(Mao punches the wall cuz hes mad at himself for being scared) Kinkinkinkinki

How does one forget to drink milk

Oh shit the scene from the promo...

Yay he's starting to feel less scared - wait NVM it JUST STARTED TALKING??

OG SGUTVKC FGCJ OG SHKR OF DJCN JKKKKK

Oh it was just a dream - er, nightmare. FIRST NIGHTMARE SEQUENCE OF THE SERIES!

"I just gotta get my socks on...wait, I wear socks, right?" Dud e you wear NOTHING BUT A BELT...

"I KNEW SELLING THOSE HAIRLESS APE DOLLS WOULD ATTRACT DARK FORCES"

"There’s a lot of pu-" "PUBLIC DANGER"

Those puppets are alive I stg

"I'M A BIG BOI..."

Awwww she said what he told her at the beginning of the episode!

"I'M AFRAID OF PUPPETS" TITLE DROP YET AGAIN

Adorabat takes after Badgerclops sometimes I swear

Oooh shit sequel hook - oh NVM it was Badgerclops voice acting - NVM Mao Mao passed out. Dang

The Perfect Couple

Watermelon time babyyy

TRANSFORMATION TIME BABYYYY

Ah so he wanted to perfectly cut a watermelon in half, that's why he got so many?

"I need (counts on fingers) 600 more watermelons!" glad to see I'm not the only one who counts on my fingers

Why would Penny and Benny need 600 watermelons for their wedding? Also I called it on Penny & Benny being the couple

Mao Mao has to officiate the wedding? I thought priests did that

Please don’t throw up again Mao Mao

"I WILL BUY YOU A BAG TO HOLD YOUR STUFF..."

"A nondescript sack!!" Dude he just taking out the trash...

Nvm its just laundry

"I WILL TURN THIS BUSH AROUND"

Oh so THAT'S what Ramaraffe thought Kevin was Adorabat

"Why don't you buy me cake and do my laundry?" Are you implying you wanna marry Mao Mao, Badgerclops 👀

I lov Mao Mao's faces in this scene he legit looks like a bishouen anime protagonist

Nvm no transformation it's just his wedding outfit

Why did they invite Orangusnake and Boss Hosstritch to the wedding tho? What about when they hid in their moving truck and used their electricity - wait Badgerclops technically did that last one, nvm

Wait THEY DIDN'T TALK TO EACH OTHER BEFORE THE WEDDING?? What a perfect couple huh

Is Mao Mao having hallucinations just gonna be a regular thing now....

IS PENNY SERIOUSLY GONNA MARRY ORANGUSNAKE OUT OF SPITE ASFSDGFUK

Why did Mao Mao say "melons" in a Spanish accent I'm scared

"They're both terrible, so what does it matter if they get hitched or not?" They're definitely gonna change their minds now

"She lied because she wanted to protect his feelings! And he lied because he couldn't bear to hurt her!" Isn't that just the plot of The Truth Stinks?

OH SHIT HE CUT ORANGUSNAKE IN HALF HOLY FUCK

He made Orangusnake officiate the wedding as punishment lol

Why are they,,,stepping on the watermelons?? Damn right Badgerclops I'd cry over that too

"What's, uh, your credit score like?" "850. Why, is that good?" "It's perfect..." HE WANTS TO MARRY MAO MAO NOW ASDFHKL

#semi live blogging #semi-live blogging #//long post #// long post

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shreyamistry · 6 years ago

Text

XVII. Unexpected

Poppy x MC

Summary: Alex sets up another date between Dax and Poppy in hopes of getting them together and leaves them in a bar to talk things through while they help Eva with a secret project. Poppy knows she doesn’t love Dax or even remotely like him, at one point maybe, but not anymore. Before the night ends she and Alex can’t help, but make a half drunken mess of things.

A/N: Check out my masterlist here! See my specific Choices September Creates mastelist here! Requests are open, find my rules here! Don’t know what to request? See my prompt list 200 Prompts here, OTP here, Angst here!

Tagging: @choices-september-challenge

Thanks for reading! I hope you like it!

Poppy smoothes out the front of her dress, her hands lingering on the sheer fabric with a heavy sigh. Her hands trembling slightly as she approaches the door of the upscale bar downtown. Pushing open the doors looking around for any sign Alex’s existence, finding them standing at the bar ordering a drink. She quickly crosses the room, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear sliding up beside her.

“Hey, beautiful come here often?” Alex smirks taking in her presence beside them, “You seriously look stunning in that dress. Is that new? Dax should be here any minute.” Poppy blushes softly, a smile spreading across her lips as the bartender places her favorite drink courtesy of Alex. “You smell strongly of perfume. Did you use half the bottle?”

“I..uh, something like that...” Poppy trials off, picking up her drink sucking down the liquids through her straw. Her hand shaking gentle as she places her drink back onto the table purposely avoiding Alex’s gaze.

“Why are you shaking? Are you cold? Nervous?” Alex reaches over taking Poppy’s hands, as they bring her cupped hands to their mouth breathing down on the skin, their warm breath trailing over her skin rubbing their hands back and forth.

Poppy blushes taking a deep breath as she looks back at Alex. “I’m nervous.”

“Why?” said Alex, as they look at that bartender motioning for another round, “You and Dax are friends already. You don’t have to be nervous, he’s basically in love with you.” Poppy holds her breath thinking through the words looking at Alex’s concerned expression, how couldn’t they see that, that was the problem? Breaking Dax’s heart hurt her, she didn’t want to, at one point she thought she was in love with him, but her feelings for Alex never settle and she never knows how to accept that, why would they ever want her? Grayson was so handsome, Eva was stunning, and Kenji’s personality alone, she knew she couldn’t compare to them. “Wait hold that thought here he comes.”

“Alex! Poppy!” Dax smiles approaching the pair, letting Alex pull him into a soft hug. Poppy moving to hug him from the side his arm slinging over her shoulder with a grin. “It’s so great to see you guys.”

“Yeah, wonderful.” Poppy smiles sadly, her gaze moving back to Alex who stands with a huge smile.

“I have a table for us, but I have to run real quick. Eva needs help with something, urgent important wouldn’t give me any details over the phone. I’m going to swing by her place, I’ll meet you both back here when I’m done.” Alex smirks, side stepping around Poppy, “Don’t forget to save me a dance Pops!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Poppy smiles, at the look Alex shoots over their shoulder before disappearing into the mesh of bodies dancing by the entrance. Poppy turns back to Dax with a forced steady smile, “So bar food it is.”

“If I explode promise you’ll clean me off the floor.” Dax grins, earning a chuckle from Poppy as a waitress approaches them leading them towards the table, Dax standing closely besides Poppy. As she settles herself into the evening she regretfully agreed to attend.

Poppy nods as Dax continues on about his work, her absently glancing at the watch on her wrist before turning her attention to Dax who looks at her with a frown. She straightens up quickly with a forced smile, that she assumes comes off brightly, but instead doesn’t. “That’s a cool story, Dax!”

“I’m not even finished telling it.” Dax replies softly, his hand moving to his drink bringing it to his lip with a quick gulp. “You’re not feeling this date are you?”

“No, I am! I’m having-” Poppy stops herself as Dax gives her a look and she looks down with a frown. “I’m sorry, Dax. I think you’re cool, but I don’t have feelings for you. Or I don’t think I would. I keep trying to tell myself I like you and it’s just not working out. It’s giving me a headache like trying to write out an article.”

“That only Alex can help you fix?” Dax asks softly, “I couldn’t tell if you liked them or not.”

“I don’t know what you’re--”

“Poppy don’t bother lying. You should tell them tonight when they get back.” Dax smiles softly, reaching across the table to give her hand a gentle squeeze. “Seriously, it’s cool. I’m going to headout.”

“I’m really, Dax. I didn’t mean to lead you on.”

Dax smiles with a laugh shaking his head, “You didn’t lead me on. You were figuring things out. Doesn’t take a scientist to realize that. Bye Poppy, see you later?”

“Definitely.” She smiles watching as he disappears into the crowd, before letting out a long breath, picking up her cocktail and taking a long drink from the pink liquids. She sets the cup back down with a huff as the waitress approaches the table, picking up the plates in the middle.

“Can I get you anything else darling?” She asks with a sweet smile.

Poppy looks into her purse, digging around as she glances back at the waitress. “Just the check-”

“Actually, can we get another round of whatever she’s having and some mozzarella sticks.” Alex grins sheepishly sliding into the chair across from Poppy, looking at the waitress sweetly. “Sorry, I’m sure you’re ready to get this rascal out of your hair.” They grin at Poppy, as Poppy rolls her eyes, smiling despite herself.

“Oh hush.” The waitress laughs with a smile, “Two more drinks and your sticks coming up.”

‘Thank you.” Alex calls after her, turning their attention back to Poppy. “Where’s Dax?” Alex reaches across the table, picking up Poppy’s glass bringing it to their lips taking a sip of the liquids swishing it around their mouth a second before smile. “Ah, glad I ordered this.”

“He left, Alex. I told him I wasn’t interested.” Poppy nods with a soft smile. “Very mutual, or at least I think so.” She looks off in the distance for a second before nodding in agreement with her earlier words, Alex chuckling across from her. Before their smile turns into a straight line, pushing their lips together mulling over their word choices to follow.

“I thought you liked each other?” Alex asks clearly confused, resting their hands together on the table. “You seemed perfect for each other.” Alex thought for a moment, they couldn’t believe Poppy turned down yet another person that they knew she would have liked based on their type.

“Why do you care so much about my relationships?” Poppy asks, pulling her phone out of her purse on the table. Because I love you, Alex thinks to themselves, a lump forming in their throat. They only ever wanted to set her up with someone who deserved her, someone who’d love her as much as they’d love her. They watch as she unlocks her device pulling up a taxi app, looking through a list of potential drivers. “It’s not your business.”

“I was just trying to help, Pops.” Alex whispers looking at Poppy’s hands tapping away with force at her phone. “I can give you a ride home, let me just pay the bill-”

“Stop trying to do everything for me. I can take care of myself.” Poppy declares, looking for the waitress and waving her over pulling her card out of her wallet handing it to her. “Can you run the bill.” The waitress nods with a smile whisking away with Poppy card.

“What’s up with you?” Alex asks, “I’m your best friend talk to me.”

“Are you that stupid that you don’t realize I’m in love with you not Dax?!” Poppy yells, dropping her phone on the table, her mouth falling open in shock as a few patrons turn their attention at the commotion zeroing in on their conversation. “Oh god I just said that out loud.” Poppy grabs her drink downing the last of the contents.

Alex stares at her in shock, their mouth falling open and closed looking back at Poppy who looks equally as shocked by her admission. Alex stands quickly knocking into a waitress holding a tray of liquor spilling it all over the both of them. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Alex instantly begins grabbing a few of the glasses.

“It’s okay, let me help.” She sets the tray on the floor, as they put the spilt glasses onto the table. When Alex reaches to grab a glass, but instead grabs Poppy’s hand looking back at her, their tongue flicking over their lips.

“I have feeling for you too.” Alex admits, “If you say you’re lying I’m going to never speak to you again.” Alex swallows harshly before grabbing the final glass setting it on the try, turning back to the waitress who watches them with interest. “This night has gone so downhill.”

“Do you just want to go back to my house and make out?” Poppy asks with a laugh.

“Sounds perfect.” Alex grins, reaching out to grab her hand as the pair makes their way towards the exit, stopping only to grab Poppy’s credit card and their to-go mozzarella sticks. Poppy grins all the way to the car feeling the pressure of Alex’s hand in hers. But mostly the prospect of making out on her couch as she fantasizes many times before when they shared a look before one of them awkwardly broke eye contact with a forced conversation to follow. Thinking back, they were both pretty dumb not to realize how the other felt.

#poppy patel #poppy x mc #playchoices #hero #choices hero #mc x poppy #dax darcisse #prompt #csc #choices september challenge #unexpected #unexpected feelings lol #alright probably the last one for tonight

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zombiesbecrazy · 7 years ago

Text

Will Protect You From All Around You

Summary: Bruce has always expected that one day he'll wake up and feel like a Real Adult, but it hasn't happened yet. Why had he thought that this parenting thing would be easy?

AO3

“Something on your mind, chum?”

Dick normally threw himself into their after school training sessions at top speed. He was eager to run and jump and fly after hours of being cooped up in class all day and from the moment they entered the Cave he was excited and ready to do anything Bruce threw at him.

Today was different. He was going through the motions, but his mind and heart were clearly elsewhere as they went through their usual warm up. In an attempt to cheer him up, Bruce had forgone the scheduled weapons training and switched to gymnastics instead because Dick always smiled brighter on those days, but today it hadn’t changed the gloomy mood in the room. Dick was distracted as he went through a routine on the beam and after the third stumble on the same basic landing that Bruce knew he could land injured and blindfolded, Bruce stopped him and patted the beam. Dick plopped down and Bruce pulled himself up to sit side by side with him.

Dick looked down at his feet, watching them swing under the bar for a minute and Bruce waited for him to share his thoughts. “It’s just…” Dick paused and stilled his legs, “Are we… are Batman and Robin…” He raised his head and locked eyes with Bruce and the words tumbled out of his mouth. “Are we bad guys?”

That was not a question that Bruce had been anticipating.

Bringing Dick home and taking on a parental role had been a steep learning curve and one that Bruce still struggled with. Sure, he was an adult, but at 24 he still didn’t consider himself to be an Adult yet. Not one with a capital letter, anyway. He was still waiting to wake up one morning and be That Person; a Real Grown Up who had everything figured out. Someone responsible enough to pay taxes, raise a child and make responsible life decisions. He had people hired to do his taxes for him, but no one could really raise this nine year old for him and Proper Adults didn’t dress up as a giant bat and punch their way across the city every night.

Why had he thought that this parenting thing would be easy? Or having a protégé?

He had never been a great conversationalist either, but he did have to admit to himself that talking with kids was easier. Or at least it made more sense to him than talking to Adults because talking with kids seemed to be a lot like detective work. Sometimes it was better to ask a child for more information before answering to get a better idea of the bigger picture. Kids answered while Adults avoided. Talking this out with Dick was something that he could do. He could work this problem. Maybe. Hopefully.

“Why do you ask that?”

Dick bit his lower lip and thought about the question, his fingers moving in slow patterns beside him on the beam. “Sometimes we play Batman and Robin at recess.”

“Oh?”

Nodding enthusiastically, Dick grinned up a Bruce, his sadness momentarily forgotten. “Yeah. The other kids take turns with who gets to be Batman and Robin and whoever the main villain is. I am usually a civilian. Sometimes a cop or a thug.”

If he hadn’t been smiling in that moment, Bruce would have thought that that was the problem. That the other kids wouldn’t let him be one of the main characters in their game, but that clearly wasn’t it from the look on Dick’s face. No, the game was a fun thing that Dick enjoyed. “You don’t want to be Batman or Robin at school?” He still had to ask. Real Adults probably checked to make sure their children weren’t being bullied or left out at school.

Dick shook his head with a lopsided grin. “Nah. I get to do that all the time. Other people can have a turn when we’re playing. It makes them happy, so I don’t mind.”

Bruce smiled, because of course that was Dick’s answer. “Sounds like fun.” To be honest, it did sound like fun. Good imaginative, interactive play stimulating the mind and the body. Perfect for growing children. It could also be seen as an informal training exercise for Dick; remembering to see things from other perspectives. “What happened today? To make you ask if we’re bad guys?”

Looking away from Bruce again, Dick stared at the floor in front of them. “After Batman and Robin worked with the cops to stop Two Face and his thugs from robbing a bank, one of the kids playing a cop tried to arrest Batman and Robin.”

This wasn’t new to Bruce, especially with the way that he knew Bullock and some of the of the other GCPD officers felt about Batman, but Dick hadn’t come across such obstacles in his duties as Robin yet. The only officer that he really had interaction with so far had been Gordon and while he clearly didn’t approve of a child in the field, having given Batman some pointed comments about child welfare and endangerment laws, he seemed pacified by the limits and rules that Batman had been putting on Robin to date. “Did he say why?”

“Because Batman and Robin weren’t police officers. Because they snuck into the warehouse, which is breaking and entering.” Dick bit his lower lip in thought for a few seconds. “Because they beat up the thugs and Two Face, which is assault. They broke the law.”

“Then what happened?”

“One of the other kids who was a civilian stood up and told the cop that Batman and Robin had saved their lives and didn’t deserve to be arrested. Then the bell rang and recess was over so we stopped playing.” Dick looked across the cave in the direction of the change rooms, where their uniforms were waiting and sighed before he turned back to Bruce, eyes looking a little wetter than they had before. “Was he right? Are we bad guys?”

Oh, kiddo. It was something that Bruce had struggled with himself when he had first started out, but had pushed aside for the thought of the greater good. What was he going to tell Dick? How do you walk a nine year old through an existential crisis? “What do you think?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been wondering about it since.” He kicked his feet under the beam a couple times. “He wasn’t wrong. We do all those things. We do break the law sometimes.”

“You’re right. We do.”

“Bad guys break the law.” His voice was low, like he had already made his decision. Like he thought that they were criminals and didn’t know what to do about it.

“Batman and Robin only break the law to help people, Dick.”

“My mom always said that two wrongs don’t make a right.” It wasn’t often that Dick brought up one of his parents in this particular way. It was common for him to talk about his former life in the circus and about his parents in general, but not like this. Not in a way that felt to Bruce almost like he was comparing the way his parents had raised him to what Bruce’s choices were. Bruce didn’t think that he was being necessarily judged when this happened; Dick was just questioning the different things that he was being taught from the Adults in his life, especially if they contradicted, and trying to build his own opinions. Bruce reached down and gave Dick’s hand a small squeeze.

“Mine said that too. And they were both very smart women.” What would his own mother have said if he was having a conversation with her? Or his father? It was hard to even imagine what that would have been like. He was on his own here, fumbling through parenthood without a road map. Clearing his throat, he decided to ask Dick another question. “What are Batman and Robin? If you could use one word to describe them, what would it be?”

The answer was immediate and very clear. “We’re heroes. We help people. We help Gotham.”

“We do try to help people and Gotham, but the more accurate term for what we are is ‘vigilante’. Do you know what that means?”

“Not really.”

“It means that we take it upon ourselves to enforce the law unofficially. And sometimes in order to do that we have to do what others would consider to be wrong.” Dick’s brow furrowed in thought and all Bruce could do was hope that he wasn’t messing this up. They had a variation of this talk when Dick first decided to become Robin and go after Zucco, but he was older now even if it was just by eight months. He had grown in leaps and bounds in that time and Bruce could see how smart he was for his age. “Most heroes who you know are actually vigilantes by definition.”

“Superman?”

“Yes, however most people wouldn’t call him that. The perception of Superman is different than Batman that way.”

“Flash?”

“He works with the police as his day job, but when he’s out as The Flash…”

“Green Lantern?”

“Space cop. Not a vigilante when he’s in his sector on a planet that recognizes Oa’s authority.”

“Does that mean he’s a hero sometimes and a vigilante other times? Depending on where he is?”

Bruce sighed and decided to shut down on the direction this conversation was going. It was his job to help Dick, but he didn’t have to go through a list of every member of the League or defend Hal Jordan to do so. “What makes someone a hero, Dick?”

The small boy thought about it for a couple of seconds. “When they try to help someone regardless of the cost to themselves?”

“I like your explanation.”

“But that does mean that someone could be both a hero and a vigilante, right? I mean, if Batman broke into a building to get someone out before it exploded and tied up the Riddler in the process for the cops at the same time, I think that’s both.”

“I think so too.” Looking towards the cave at the computer, Bruce thought about all the articles he had read. All the news pundits debates. Things he heard at work or at various social gatherings. “Some people think vigilantes are bad and others good. And both can be true. But we do our best to only help where we can. We are lucky that Commissioner Gordon thinks that we are helping and lets us work with the GCPD to help make Gotham better the best way that we can.” He knew that might not always be the case. Gordon could be replaced or transferred or simply change his opinion at any time and that slight safety net could go away. Not that that would stop Batman, but the cooperative nature of the relationship had its benefits.

“That’s true.”

“What have you done on patrol this week as Robin?” Since Robin had started joining him out in the field, Batman had started making two rounds of patrols three days a week. He still did his normal work late into the night, but he had added an earlier one for Robin to help with smaller tasks from six until eight. A perfect way to have him out and still back home for a snack and a story and a fairly appropriate bedtime. Alfred had told him that routine was important with kids and something that Adults definitely enforced.

“Stopped two muggings. Got a cat out of tree for a lady. Dropped off food at one of the shelters. Worked with you to stop that truck full of drugs from getting where it was going.” Most of what Robin had done so far in the field had very much geared towards ‘good samaritan’ rather than ‘vigilante’ but the line sometimes got blurry in the moment and Bruce knew that it was only a matter of time until that label changed permanently, even if it was just by association to Batman.

That week, Batman had assured that Robin had been safe at all times. The potential muggers had been disarmed before he let Robin jump in, and there had been nothing at all dangerous with the cat or the food delivery. He would have avoided the truck situation if at all possible but they had stumbled across it and he couldn’t just let it happen. Batman had stopped the truck and knocked out the two delivery men, and then let Robin zip tie them. Robin hadn’t been in any real danger, but Bruce knew that Good Parents didn’t let their kids get involved with drug shipments. Or run around in a cape and mask fighting crime at all in the first place.

“Were those bad things?”

“No. We did good work. We helped people.”

“Sometimes, people are going to say that it’s something that you shouldn’t be doing. That there shouldn’t be a Batman or a Robin. Even if they help people, they shouldn’t be breaking the law to do so.”

“Could we be arrested? Or go to jail?” Dick’s fingers were moving on the beam again, making the number eight pattern over and over again. His voice dropped. “Or could they take me to live with someone else?” Dick already wasn’t a fan of his social worker and their unannounced visits to check up on them.

Gripping the beam beneath his hands a little tighter, Bruce struggled to maintain a neutral expression. The thought of Dick being removed from his care, possibly going back to the detention center, because of his actions as Batman kept him up more nights than not, staring at the ceiling. Real Adults surely didn’t have these concerns because they had their lives in order. “That is always going to be a possibility.” It was hard to keep his voice steady to not worry Dick more than he already was, and he was pretty sure he didn’t succeed, but he owed it to him tell the truth. Bruce cleared his throat, trying to make the mysterious lump that had appeared go away. “My question for you is, are you alright with that? As Robin, you are sometimes going to have to cross lines in order to help people.” Bruce turned his head back to look at Dick and their eyes locked. “You have to decide if making that choice is worth it.”

Not blinking, Dick’s face was set in a determined way. “That’s easy. Helping people is always worth it. If we help people, maybe less people will suffer like me. Like us.” He blinked and a little of the strength left his eyes, but Bruce watched him give himself a shake and grind his teeth. “I would be okay with going to jail or… having to go away if I was able to stop someone else from hurting like that first. That’s my choice.”

“So you’ll still be Robin.”

“If you’ll still be Batman.” Dick held out his fist and Bruce bumped it with his own, making Dick smile.

“It’s a deal.” He ruffled Dick’s hair, making Dick giggle and try to move out of his reach, but failed, and his hair stood up in all directions. “So, training? Or skip it for tonight and eat cookies and watch a movie instead?”

“Can’t we do both?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

After finishing up their beam work, Bruce and Dick headed upstairs to watch a movie before dinner, sneaking into the kitchen first for Dick to steal some cookies from under Alfred’s watchful gaze as Bruce acted as a distraction, chatting away about his morning at the office. As a Real Adult who cared about nutrition and balanced meals, Alfred clearly noticed but chose to say nothing when Bruce raised his finger to his lips. Once in the living room, Dick chose his movie and then laid down on the couch, using Bruce’s thigh as a headrest and curling up in a ball under a blanket. The beginning of Disney’s Tarzan started playing on the screen and Bruce immediately started running his fingers through Dick’s hair with a small frown on his face. He had learned in the past year that this was Dick’s default movie for when he was missing his parents and feeling blue, which meant that despite Dick’s change in mood in the cave and cookies in his belly he was obviously still a little down. Bruce silently offered Dick his remaining cookie, which was taken and eaten without a word.

“Bruce?”

The voice was so quiet, muffled by his position against him, that Bruce almost hadn’t heard it. “Hmm?”

“You’re doing a good job.”

“I’m sorry?” Bruce was confused, because he really wasn’t doing anything, and being used as a pillow didn’t count as a job.

“You are doing a good job looking after me.”

His hand stopped moving through Dick’s hair, pausing with his fingers tangled in the strands. “What do you mean?”

Small shoulders shrugged and Dick kept watching the screen where Kala had just tried to put Tarzan on her back like any other baby gorilla, and he slipped, just for her to catch him in time. “You’re like Kala. I’m not yours, but you are taking care of me anyway. Sometimes, you look nervous. Not when we are Batman and Robin, but when we are Bruce and Dick. But you don’t have to.” Another shrug. “You’re doing good. I just thought you should know.”

This. This was one of those moments that made all the doubting and fear worth it. They had watched this movie at least thirty times since Dick had come to the manor and while he obviously related to Tarzan, this was the first time that he had mentioned noticing a parallel between Bruce and Kala. Bruce lifted his hand to squeeze Dick’s shoulder, he saw that his hand was trembling.

“Thanks, chum. That means a lot.”

Dick thought he was doing a good job. Dick thought he was a Real Adult and that he was doing okay at this Parenting thing.

It was the only opinion that really mattered.

#Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #batfic #happy father's day #batdad #fanfic

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fourteen--steps · 7 years ago

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On big goldfish, and listening to each other

I apologize if the tone of this post is maybe a little more snippy than my usual ones. I’m usually very thoughtful with my words but I’ve had an incredibly rough physical and emotional week and I’m running low on spoons to devote to thinking things through properly. My frustration’s gonna bleed through here but I don’t want anyone to take it personal cause it’s really more me than you.

That said.

Remember that whole trend a while ago of “don’t give advice on animals you haven’t kept or deeply researched?” What ever happened to that? What ever happened to respecting the expertise and hearing out the opinions of people who actually have it in that field vs demanding you’re right because you’ve read some care sheets and seen some photos of worst case scenarios?

My whole life and world has been immersed in goldfish for the last several years. Keeping multiple breeds of both single tail and fancy, reading, researching, joining everything from casual hobbyist groups to those of serious breeders and highly respected names. I’ve moderated, built, and eventually owned my own care forum. I’ve spent hours reading vet manuals and scientific articles, as well as conducting necropsies on every animal I lose to better understand their inner workings and what’s gone wrong. I had the wonderful experience last summer of raising a small batch of someone else’s fry. I’ve experimented with all different kinds of food and filtration and maintenance and decor and enrichment.

I don’t know everything, nobody can. I’m not perfect, nobody is. But I can say with confidence I know a lot about the care and keeping of goldfish overall, and that my information is overall very solid and thought out.

So when someone comes in my inbox and asks my opinion on something goldfish related, my answer comes with all that experience and thought behind it. I often include caveats in my answers when I’m not 100% sure, or if I believe there’s no one-size-fits-all solution. I’m not so bigheaded as to believe that my way is absolutely always right and will work for every situation and every fish. But I answer in earnest and with confidence and reasoning.

But then my posts get immediately doused with comments from people who to the best of my knowledge have little to no experience with the species. The ones who do have experience tend to be polite in their responses, if not a bit misguided, although even then their knowledge tends to bottom out at keeping some orandas in a 40B or having tended a garden pond. Often the other comments are far more cursory and involve varying amounts of dismissal of my opinion entirely, insults, condescension, and most frustratingly, wild misinformation (much of which I’ve only heard echoed back and forth within the microcosm of tumblr, and never from a reputable outside source)

Like I’ve read a fair amount about bettas now both on here and elsewhere just cause they’re such popular fish and I’m a nerd and I’m curious. But I’ve never kept one, and I’m not an expert, and I’d never go be snappy on the advice post of someone who I know has a lot more practical and academic knowledge with them than I do? At the very least I could politely ask a question or voice a dissenting opinion with some of my reasoning, possibly acknowledging the deficits in my experience, but diving straight in with the vitriol just baffles me.

It’s come to my attention people are vagueing about me now and that’s just? So fucking childish and unnecessary. I’m also being accused of having stunted fish based on, among other things, the old eye proportion criteria, but btw that image of the ranchu that circulates as an example? Is heavily photoshopped and not a reliable catchall method to determine stunting.

For those who didn’t believe Zoom is as big as I said, I took this picture today. He’s not the most personable of my fish so he wouldn’t let me get him against a measuring tape but I measured my hand like that at about 4 inches, then pasted those identical bars on him (swear the blue bar is the same I just recolored so it’d stand out, not sure why it looks a little longer than the red). He’s just under 8 inches, nose to peduncle. Maybe even a tad longer cause he always curls a little when I flip him on his side (also why his side looks a little sunken here, he was getting ready to snap back and splash me in the face :P). When measuring goldfish you don’t include fins, by standard. If you wanna tack on the extra inch or so of tail go ahead and call him 9″

I also weighed him, he’s 109 grams which is a tad less than I’d like but I’ve been having issues with one fish in the tank needing a specialized diet so they’ve all been getting a little less protein than usual lately. The fish with the diet issue is probably going to be going back to @finefeatheredfish soon and I can pick up with weekly Worm Nights as usual again. His body condition is still good though rounded from above without being bloated, muscular rather than fatty, with a nice smooth taper head to tail and a bit of a belly. He’s not a very tall fish, but that’s more cause he’s a badly bred feeder fish who doesn’t fit the perfect common genetic standard than anything. Height isn’t about health, that’s a genetic characteristic that some fish just won’t achieve. In fact many tall “humpy” commons are not actually properly tall, but have large fat deposits along the tops of their bodies particularly built up behind the head which are an indicator of poor diet and overfeeding.

In fact if you want, here’s the US hibuna show standard! Take a look!

What about the eye thing? It’s huge compared to his head right? Well here’s a shubunkin posted by Gary Hater, currently one of the most well respected breeders in the US hobby, both for his fish quality and welfare standards. Who incidentally keeps most of his in aquariums and states that they normally reach 6-8″ indoors. This fish was from his “giants” tank, one of which he said was roughly 10 inches. This one in the video looked a little smaller than aforementioned Big Boy so I figure it’s around 8″ or so, like Zoom. and hey, look at that big googly eye! Almost like eye size can vary naturally in healthy goldfish and isn’t necessarily a sign of stunting without other important factors that are often much more subtle and far less textbook!

The last think I want to bring up, is that this whole “goldfish are ALL large” and by extension “NEED to be large” to be “right” worries me for another reason. I’m concerned there’s a mounting pressure that goldfish should be reaching these enormous sizes that they aren’t meant to, in far too short of a time. Many of the fish that do reach these sizes in captivity, yes even the ones in ponds, reach them due to powerfeeding. Intentional or not, these fish are put on high protein, high filler, sometimes high fat diets, and often fed a lot of it. Outdoor fish also gorge themselves on algae, insects, worms, snails, aquatic plants, sometimes other small fish, anything they can get their greedy little mitts on. Then their owner will dump in a large cup of cheap high protein pond conditioning food and they scarf that down too.

For aquarium fish, a nervous newbie keeper may see their young fish isn’t growing to the size they believe it’s supposed to and get a bigger tank, start feeding extra bloodworms, more meaty pellets, maybe turn the heater up a degree or two to boost their metabolism. They balance it out with lots of veggies so they think it’s okay, they just want their fish to be healthy and catch up to where it’s “supposed” to be! This leads to rapid and impressive growth, yes, but it comes with dangerous and potentially deadly consequences.

Some of you may remember Queenie. She was the largest goldfish I’ve ever personally encountered, 10-11 inches and fat fat with it. Her original owner surrendered her to our LFS and @finefeatheredfish immediately bought her with the plan that she’d move into my 150 when it was set up. She was healthy at the time, some kind of long bodied fancy mix and drop dead gorgeous, though she needed to drop some weight for sure. Too young to be that massive and visibly overweight. She was unquestionably a powerfed pond fish.

Cw for euthanasia mention, pet death, graphic descriptions, next 3 paragraphs

But about a month into her QT she began getting sick, infection-like symptoms but antibiotics didn’t do anything. We worked on her another month, did our best to save her. We probably should have euthanized her earlier in hindsight but we wanted so bad to get her through and give her a happy home. She was just so amazing you know? I took her for the last week of her life to try some last ditch treatment, she died about 3 days after this photo was taken.

I did a necropsy on her afterwards. Her vital organs were layered in fat. There was so much of it around her swim bladder that I thought it was another organ at first and got confused. I’m shocked it was still functional. Her liver was unidentifiable mush, suggesting chronic disease, and her gallbladder had simply exploded and spilled bile all over the surrounding tissue. Her body cavity was full of blood and fluid. The cause of death appeared to be the rupture of her gallbladder or liver and the tearing of some important vessel in that area, she bled out internally.

The chronic liver and gallbladder disease were entirely untreatable for home aquarists. What we thought was infectious dropsy was full on liver failure, she couldn’t balance the fluid and electrolytes in her body anymore which caused the swelling. Likely even if we had taken her to the vet there would have been little they could do. You can’t really remove a fish’s inflamed gallbladder, or transplant in a new liver to replace a failing one. Those conditions are linked to obesity in many species, and I have no doubt that Queen’s diet and obesity were the cause of the chronic conditions that lead to her slow death.

She was powerfed because someone wanted a large, impressive fish, and it killed her. She deserved so much better than that.

CW over

Powerfeeding and its results are not always that extreme, and I can go into more on the other risks and issues if anyone is interested, but this is long enough already. I wanted to include Queenie as a cautionary tale, and because I’m still so sad she never got to meet the rest of my little school. She was such a sweetheart.

I have a genuine concern with this normalization of 12-14″+ fish as average, that people are going to start pushing their pets to meet that. Most goldfish are not genetically capable of that growth. I’d go so far as to say most goldfish should not reach that size, at least not in any appreciably quick period of time.

Feed your fish well. Keep their water clean. Give them room to swim. They will grow on their own time, to their own size.

And lastly. I’m open to talking about this stuff, really. I love to learn new things and hear new sides. Just please, be friendly and mature and let’s have a real conversation? We can disagree politely. It doesn’t have to be black and white, mortal enemies, I know fishblr’s environment these days isn’t very conducive to that, and that’s part of why I’d left a few weeks ago. But I’m trying to give it another chance cause this community used to be really welcoming and wonderful. I’d really love for us to be able to step away from all this polarizing distrust and be open and considerate again.

My responses may be spotty because of the terrible week I mentioned at the beginning of this post but I’ll try and check back.

#I think I kept this mostly together and said most of what I want to say #goldfish #fishblr #long post #fishies #zoom #queenie #pet death mention

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ellana-ravenwood · 7 years ago

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Insecurities shmunsecurities - Bruce Wayne x Insecure!Reader

Summary : Bruce Wayne, your boyfriend, is decided to help you overcome every single insecurities you’ve ever had.

This is a very, VERY self-indulgent fic. As usual, I was feeling extremely insecure about my writing and..What do I do in those instances ? Well, I write (but of course). This is the result. It’s fucking long. Hope you’ll like my poor writing :

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

Bruce Wayne was curing your insecurities one by one.

Ten months ago, when you first met him, you would have never thought he would be the one to do such a thing.

He looked so full of himself, so confident, so so sure of everything, so at ease in social situations...How could a man like that, better than you in every ways, could pay any attention to you ?

And yet, at that charity ball you organized, he was instantly drawn to you.

It was such a small thing, that charity of yours (you had created it to give better access to books to the disadvantages people of GC), happening in one of the poorest neighborhood in Gotham.

When you sent an invitation to Bruce fucking Wayne, it was as an inside joke you had with your colleagues helping you organizing everything...”Oh, let’s sent a formal invitation to Bruce Wayne, the most powerful and richest man in Gotham, he’ll totally come to our shitty little charity ball right ? Haha hahaha hahaha !!”...You were all quite shocked when he actually showed up, accompanied by all the big name in town.

Needless to say, you exploded the goal you wanted to achieve by raising a shit ton of money !

Yes, at that small little insignificant ball you had organized, expecting only a few middle classed people to come, he was instantly drawn to you, even though he had one of the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen glued to his arm (she was so rude to you...and yet, she was incapable to grasp “Brucie”’s attention like you were !).

Bruce was pretty sure (though at the time he was in total denial) that he fell desperately in love with you when he heard you say : “Do I look like the champagne police lady ?!” to an old and extremely rich woman who was complaining about the low quality of the drinks that were served.

Hell, he realized he was doomed as soon as his eyes laid on you and you shyly and awkwardly smiled at him, waving your hand at him, and in the process, throwing the platter that a waiter was holding into the air, making a huge mess once it hit the floor...

He loved the way you didn’t care he was Bruce Wayne, and talked to him like you would to any other person ! He loved the ways you were so...unimpressed with him. The way you looked so out of place amongst the rich and powerful of Gotham. Not that you were les worthy than them, oh no, just...You were so uninterested in power and money and appearances, it was so refreshing !

Bruce always smiles when he remembers your reaction when he asked for your number. The way you furrowed your brow, narrowed your eyes at him and said : “I don’t play games Mr. Wayne”, pointing at him accusingly.

And the way your cute eyebrows raised in surprised when he told you that he wasn’t playing any games, trying to pour all the honesty available in him in his words so you’d believe him (he was really telling the truth !).

He must have been convincing because, ten months ago, you gave him your number, totally stunned that a great man like Bruce Waybe would even talk to you...and since then, he made it his mission to show you that you weren’t as worthless as you thought, quite the contrary !

************

The first insecurities he cured was in regards of a certain “Catwoman”.

After you gave him your number, it didn't take long for the both of you to actually date, and though at the time things were still kept secret (his way to preserve you from unwanted attention, wether it was medias or villains), it was getting quite serious.

You had discovered he was the Batman quite early on...before dating him in fact, you already had strong suspicions (only Bruce Wayne made sense, though he was covering his tracks quite well with his fake playboy persona and with his public “money” support to the bat).

He didn’t know yet that you knew, but given how understanding you were when he suddenly had to go, or when he didn’t spend the night...He kinda guessed you must have known. But he wasn’t quite ready to tell you, to let you enter his dark World, he had to “preserve” you you know ?

Yes. You knew he was Batman and it wasn’t a problem. You had absolutely no intention to stop him, on the contrary, you were certain Gotham City desperately needed him.

You were worried, sure, but it was so important, you really understood (another reason he fell in love with you...you understood him so completely).

No, what kinda bothered you about this all thing were the rumors about him and Catwoman (that you knew was Selina Kyle, of course).

Now you couldn’t outright ask him could you ? You weren’t suppose to know he was Batman and you wanted him to tell you ! It was important that he did, it would mean that he really trusted you (he already did but again, he wanted to preserve you from the complicated side of his life as much as he could).

No, you couldn’t just ask him, you had to be smart about it.

One night, one of the rare ones he stayed with you (Batwoman, his cousin, was on duty...later, Alfred would say that he knew you were the one because only for you would he skip patrol) and, with your most innocent look, you casually asked him, as you were cuddling against him after an amazing love making session :

-So hum...D’you ever have a serious relationship before ?

Bruce smiled at your tone that you’d try to be as casual as possible without quite succeeding, and at the way you didn’t look up at him, your face kinda buried in his chest..He knew you were blushing and that it took you a lot of courage to ask him that.

You wanted to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, but he knew better.

With a bit of a mocking voice, he said :

-A serious relationship “before” ? Before what ?

Your head snapped up and the hurt look he spotted in your eyes made his heart drop and he instantly regretted his joke.

By instinct, his fingers tangled in your hair and he caressed your scalp soothingly. You didn’t say anything, as your eyes bore into his deeply, and he felt so disarmed in front of you right now...It should have frightened him, how you made him so vulnerable so easily, but it did the opposite.

It made him love you more, if that was even possible.

In a soft and low voice he says :

-Yes. Yes I had a somewhat serious thing with a woman before you...but let me tell you right now that nothing even compares to what I feel for you now.

You don’t look too convinced and, still looking at him, you just murmur :

-Selina Kyle ?

If he’s surprised that you guessed that right, he doesn’t show it (another reason he loves you...you’re a smart cookie).

He wrapped his free arm around you, as his other hand still ran through your hair and he answered :

-Yes. Selina Kyle. But believe me honey, you eclipse her in every way !

Bruce knew you didn’t believe him, but he couldn’t find the right words, in that moment, to reassure you...

It’s about a week after that, at a gala, that he cured fully this insecurity of yours.

************

You hate being alone at one of those little soirée, but you understand...he went to get some drinks, and he always mingle with people on his way.

You’ve been going out together publicly for a few months now, and it’s not as bad as you thought...

Sure, tabloid magazines keep releasing articles trying to guess how long it would last (none of them had the right answer. They were all talking about “a few months at most”, while you’d be together until your death decades later), but most people (though extremely jealous of you or of Bruce to have you), couldn’t deny that you made a great and well assorted couple (though you thought you weren’t beautiful enough for him...how wrong you were, especially since your natural aura made you just so damn charming and attractive).

You had found a somewhat hidden spot in a corner of the room, while Bruce wad doing what he had to do, when you first met her.

-So you’re the famous (Y/N) (Y/L/N) everyone is talking about uh ?

You turned around and...There she was.

Selina Kyle.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your eyes widened a bit...She was so...so...so much “more” than you.

More talented, more mysterious, smarter, sexier, funnier, her hair were better, her eyes brighter, her legs thinner...Everything about her was outplaying you.

You smile shyly at her and you’re surprised by the warm smile she gives you back, you were definitely not expecting that...Selina had wanted to be a bitch to you, after all, it was because of you that her “on and off” relationship with Bruce was now definitely “off”...But you were just too cute.

-Famous I don’t know but...yeah, it’s me.

It takes all of the will in you not to back away when Selina walk straight to you and stops mere inches from you, staring you up and down.

You’re usually witty and sarcastic, fearless in front of people but...there’s something in Selina Kyle that intimidates the Hell out of you...She’s just so much better than you !

With a smile that would have seduced anyone (and oh man was she attractive ! Yummy !) she says :

-Oh you’re famous alright. Not just because you’re dating Bruce by the way. I heard you were...How did they put it again ? Oh right, “The Comeback Queen”. Apparently, you’re quite a quick thinker and don’t let any of them -she points at the people around you- walk on your feet. Oh don’t blush sweetheart, I like it !

Her last words make you blush even more and you look around a bit desperately, hoping Bruce would come back soon.

You know she sees you’re uncomfortable and you know she thrives because of it...but you can’t help it, she’s so...UGH !

You can definitely see what Bruce saw in her.

Little did you know that, as she looks at you intently, she was thinking exactly the same thing about you. She could see what Bat saw in you...You don’t say anything and she continues :

-So...it’s because of you uh, that Ba...Bruce doesn’t want to sleep with me anymore ?

Your blush is gone in an instant, and Selina realizes she must have awaken “The Comeback Queen”...But you still don’t say anything. Oh no. You do worst.

You just turn around slightly away from her and ignore her utterly.

You understood what she was doing, and she made one mistake : talking about Bruce and sleeping with him (you’d never admit it but it filled you with happiness to know he refused her because of you...you’d discover later that Bruce wasn’t the cheating kind at all, he could never inflict such pain to someone he cared about, he’d leave them if he wasn’t in love anymore...Just like he told Selina it was over right after your first kiss with him...)

Yes, Selina Kyle made a mistake talking about him.

You had understood quickly she came over to “test” you, to tease you a little bit...And it was working, but she should have continued talking about you, and not utter a word about him.

Because it awakened something in you, the part that couldn’t help but fight back, even when it knew its adversary was better...And here you were, ignoring her. It completely stunned her...she wasn’t used to be ignored.

But before she could say something else (you could see her preparing to say something in your peripheral vision), you felt a protective hand wrap around your waist.

Bruce.

He had a worried look on his face, his eyes switching between you and Selina...He knew how iffy you were about Catwoman, knowing it was his only other serious relationship...He knew you felt inferior to her, though he didn’t understand why.

You were so perfect to him. Selina was great but you...Oh you were something else entirely. It tore his heart apart to know that you didn’t even know it...

-Good evening Selina.

He says, a bit on edge, as you turn to him. But you smile brightly at him, which reassures him a bit. He says :

-So...I see you’ve met (Y/N).

You don’t leave her time to respond as you go :

-Oh yeah, we’ve met -you turn to Selina an obvious and exaggerated fake smile on your face-, Selina Kyle, the woman you’ve stop sleeping with because of me apparently.

It’s quite satisfying, really, to see all color leave her face like that. And the severe, almost angry look Bruce gives her ? Priceless. In a cold voice he says :

-What did I say, Selina ?

But the woman, momentarily disarmed in front of your fake-smile (you changed mood so fast !) was back once again in her normal self and nonchalantly says :

-Well to be honest, your speech was so long and disgustingly cheesy that I don’t recall everything really...Oh fine fine don’t make that face Bruce, it makes you look ugly. You said to leave her alone, because you love her -she turns to you- really sweetheart I’m making it short, because it was really long and boring.

You’re a bit stunned by her word, and you’re so glad Bruce talks first because you just didn’t know what to say :

-Let me refresh your memory. I said that I would appreciate if you left my girlfriend, (Y/N) here, alone. If you wouldn’t do to her what you do to everyone, which is toying with her. Don’t interrupt me please Selina, I know you don’t always toy with people, I know what we had was real...But here’s the key word : “was”. We both knew it was a mere infatuation. There’s a deep friendship between us, yes...but no love. Not romantic at least. I can’t lie to you and tell you I don’t care about you, because I really do...But I don’t love you. I love her. I won’t be uselessly cruel by explaining to you how much I love her, but...You know don’t you ? And so please, she’s already so...unsure of herself, so leave her alone. I thought I was clear on that...

Selina takes a quick look at you (oh you’re just so damn cute, blushing and not really knowing what to do, planted in front of them like that !) and then back at Bruce, yawns (for good measure, because his speeches are always so damn serious and boring) and says :

-You were clear. I was just...Curious. Who stole the Bat...bachelor’s heart ? Genuinely and fully stole it ? Not just like me, not just conquering a part of it...earning it completely. I was just curious. And you sweetheart -she turns to you once more-, I got nothing on you. You know, you can call me a lot of thing, but what I’m not is modest. I know I’m beautiful, I know I’m intelligent, I know I’m great really...And I am completely honest when I say that, if you’re not better than me, at least we’re equal. Oh but why are you so cute ? Don’t make such a face I’m serious. Besides, I see the way he looks at you. He never looked at me like that. And I just used all my quotas of compliments for the year so...If you’ll excuse me, I have to go steal a few things. I mean...I have to go...mingle...With...rich men.

You can’t help but smile at her, and feel a surge of...confidence ? Is that how it feels ? Surely, if even a woman like Selina Kyle said all those things, it must mean there were (part) true right ?

Elegantly and nonchalantly (this woman was a total badass), Selina takes the glass of champagne from the hand of a man and turns around back to you and Bruce and says, a mischievous smile on her lips :

-If you ever break up, call me.

You narrow your eyes at her and Bruce groans :

-Selinaaa...

-Oh Brucie, you thought I was talking to you ? Oh no my dear, I’m talking to your girlfriend there. I quite like her really...

And on that note, she winks at you, making you blush like crazy, and leaves behind a very stunned Bruce and a quite flattered you.

On that night, thanks to Bruce and his speech, that sprawled the Catwoman herself to shower you with compliments...You were completely and utterly cured of your insecurities towards her.

Yes. Yes maybe you weren’t better than her but...Bruce chose you. He refused her. He told her he loved you. Only you. And his speech...

Yes. Insecurities cured. Gone. Forever. So much that you became quite good friends with Selina (it was funny how Bruce was now the jealous one).

And it was all because Bruce had decided to show you how amazing you were. Because he had decided to chase all your insecurities away...

This was a good first step.

************

But the biggest and most important insecurities your Broosh was able to eradicate from your mind, was the one concerning your writing abilities.

Things were getting really really serious between you and Bruce (he was more and more thinking about asking you to marry him), and he realized that it was probably time to introduce you to his best friend...Clark Kent.

And so here you were, on a fucking helicopter, direction : Metropolis.

You’ve never been to Metropolis. It was quite an interesting city really...Like a cleaner, safer Gotham. Though the gargoyles were replaced by neons and huge flashy adds, the rain by a blue and clear sky, the dark color of every building by glass windows that reflected the sun...Yup, it was like a parallel universe, a Gotham that wasn’t gritty and dark.

A city for a Superman really.

And here he was, in front of you (though you promised Bruce not to even make a hint about the fact that you knew he was Superman...that too, you guessed yourself, and you thought it was hilarious that he wrote all those articles, in the daily planet, about himself !).

You met them at a diner in the outskirt of town, a calm place where no paparazzis would try and snatch pictures of you all.

You sat down and...immediately, you felt a bit uneasy.

Why were they both looking at you like that ? With a stupid smile on their face, and a bit of...weird...awe ? What ?

Was it because they never thought Bruce would settle down ? Yeah, it probably was that...

But of course, it wasn’t.

Without your knowledge, Bruce had sent one of your novel to Lois Lane, famed journalist and best seller author (she even won a pulitzer price !).

It was driving your boyfriend crazy to know that you were so full of talent.

He was one of the only person, along with Alfred, that read your stories and he thought they were the most brilliant things in the World !

Bruce wasn’t much of a big reader, because he never really had time to do so but...your stuffs ?

It made him feel like he was a kid again, who was dreaming about adventures and had fantasy about being a hero and such !

Your stories made him feel like he was in them, like he was truly part of them, like he was...transported in another world ! The way you wrote, your style...it filled him with so many emotions !

You didn’t believe him when he told you, and he wished you had been there when he was reading it (but of course, whenever he was reading one of your work you’d make sure not to be there, in fear of dying of cringe while he’d read something you wrote in front of you) so you could have seen him laugh, cry, be angry etc etc while reading your stories !

He wish you could see the effect it had on him, and that you’d believe him when he said he loved them, that you’d believe his excitement when he finished one and ran to you to tell you how great it was !

After all, he was a man with the reputation to be quite stoic and serious ! Couldn’t you see how childish and boyish your stories rendered him ? How he almost jumped on his spot talking about all his favorite characters and how that particular twist blew his mind away ?

Couldn’t you see that your stories turned him into a huge fanboy ?!

No. No of course you couldn’t see it. You rarely believe him when he was complimenting you...Especially not on your writing.

Oh it just tore him apart to know that you thought you were a talentless woman ! And so he did something, that maybe he shouldn’t have (he didn’t know how you were going to react)...He decided to send one of your manuscript (his favorite of yours), to Lois Lane, a renown literally critic at that.

And when he received a call from her, at three in the morning, while he was on patrol, and she started to ramble about how great the plot was and how she love this character and hated that one and blahblahblah could she send it to her publisher already ?! ...Bruce knew he had to arrange a meeting.

Clark read the book a few days after, and Bruce received the same excited call...The bat totally surprised his friends by being as enthusiastic about it as he was ! It wasn’t often, that you could hear the mighty Batman sound like a little excited child !

And here you were, unaware that you had in front of you your second and third biggest fans (the first one was Bruce of course), and wondering why they just couldn’t stop staring at you like that !

-It’s so nice to finally meet you !

Clark starts, as you all sit down around the diner table. Lois continues :

-Yes yes ! We couldn’t wait to finally...meet you !

You’re a bit weirded out by their enthusiasm, but with a little smile you answer :

-Yeah same. Bruce told me lots about you two, I was looking forward to finally see you as well.

Bruce shifts awkwardly next to you and you give him a curious look...that quickly turns into a suspicious one. You narrow your eyes at him and say :

-Ok, what’s going on ?

Clark and Lois can’t help but be impressed at the inflexion in your voice, at the glare you give Bruce and the way he reacts to you...You’re the first one that seems to intimidate the goddamn Batman !

Very fast and almost inaudible, your Broosh says :

-Imighthavesentthemoneofyourbook.

But it doesn’t matter that he spoke fast, or that he barely made a sound...you understood enough. Suddenly, a horrified expression spreads across your face and you look at the couple in front of you, genuinely scared.

-Wh...What ? Ho...How could you Bruce ? I trusted you in...keeping those...for...For you...

You’re actually pretty hurt, that he would do such a thing. Sending one of your book to “strangers” ? Sure they were his friends but...you didn’t know them.

And Lois was one of your idol. Ever since you were young you loved reading her articles in the Daily Planet (that was also published in Gotham), her writing style was so eloquent and elegant ! And the book she wrote about Superman ? It made you tear up so many times, it was so beautiful !

And Bruce knew you admired her ! In fact, you were so nervous about that lunch date ! And here he was, giving her your goddamn shitty book, giving her one of your terrible writing and...

-I’m sorry my love but it just killed me that you thought it was bad. You were never going to believe me, I just had to...To show it to someone else !

-It’s not that I don’t believe you Bruce ! It’s just that...well you can’t give me an impartiale opinion, because I’m your girlfriend ! Of course you’re gonna like what I write, or pretend to like it !

-Yes well you’re wrong but you know, you won’t believe me anyway. Now if I send it to someone who doesn’t know you ? Who isn’t friend with you ? Then you know you’ll have an honest opinion right ! You read her book reviews in the Daily Planet, you know she always says what she genuinely thinks about a story !

You gasp and hide your face in your hands, shaking it vigorously ! Oh my God he’s right ! She’s a really good book reviewer and never lies ! And now it’s going to be the worst time of your life, your idol telling you how your book sucks and how you should stop writing and...

-I just have one question for you, (Y/N).

Slowly, tentatively, you tear away fingers by fingers from your face and shyly look at Lois. She smiles at you warmly, and you sit up a bit in your seat (not before giving Bruce a reproachful look though...he sinks a bit in his own seat and avoids your gaze, stunning Clark like...The Hell ? Bruce was shrinking in his seat, embarrassed ? Wow, you must really be something...but that he already knew, after all, he read your book too).

-Hum...What ?

You ask in a little scared voice. Lois’ smile widens and she says :

-The ending totally killed me, please tell me you wrote a second book ?

Bruce sprungs up in his chair and says :

-Yes ! Yes it’s suppose to be a trilogy ! She’s almost done with writing the first draft of the second book ! I read it over her shoulder when she writes in bed, it’s even more brilliant than the first one !

Your boyfriend’s actual genuine enthusiast surprises you. He...reads over your shoulder when you write in bed ? You haven’t even noticed, to engrossed in your writing. And the way his eyes suddenly shone with excitement...Could it be ?

Could it be that he actually really likes your writing ?

All of a sudden, Bruce, Clark and Lois speaks all at the same time eagerly, talking about their theories of what might happen in the next installment of your stupid and terrible book and...Wow.

Slow down a minute. They...like it ? They actually like it ?

They speculates about what might happen ? They’re thrilled about it all ? THEY SHIP SOME OF YOUR CHARACTERS TOGETHER !? HELL THEY EVEN GAVE NAME TO SAID SHIPS ?! WHAAAAAAAT ?!

You listen to them for the next hour, rambling about your story, about how great it is and how amazing your writing style is, how entranced by it they all are and...you start to believe them ? No...impossible ! And yet.

Yet you cannot hide your idiotic smile, or the way you just want to laugh, or the sudden surges of happiness that attack you.

They like it. They genuinely like it. No one can be that good of an actor...They...They actually fucking like it !

-Yes (Y/N), no joke ! I think it’s amazing ! In fact, I was really excited about this first meeting because I wanted to ask you if you’d allow me to show it to my publisher ? I think they’d love to publish this story of yours ! They really would ! But I know Bruce didn’t even tell you that he’d sent it to us so...Thought I’d ask first of course. I can’t believe you thought it was bad !

Lois tells you, and you’re too stunned to react. You hazily listen to Bruce saying :

-Right ? It’s crazy that she thinks it’s awful right ? Tell her it’s not just me being in love with her talking, please tell her how fucking great she is !

It makes Lois and Clark smile, how smitten with you their friend is, and...well, they tell you the truth.

Yes. You’re writing is great. It made them feel a wide range of things, and left them wanting for more.

For the entirety of lunch time, you discuss your stories with them, they give you all their honest opinion and...you believe them. Sure, you don’t think you’re the best writer ever and such, like they keep saying but...maybe you’re not so bad ?

It fills Bruce with happiness, to know that you’re slowly changing your mind about yourself. It fills him with..so many things, to see you smile as your idol, Lois, is telling you in details why she loves your stories (feedbacks are so important for a writer) and to see you laugh at Clark’s comment on why he hates that particular characters of yours (that of course, he’s suppose to hate).

In that moment, you’re overly grateful that Bruce crossed your path one day.

Because day after day, hell hours after hours, he makes you feel like you’re worth something. He makes you feel like you’re...Someone important.

Talented. Beautiful. Intelligent. Sexy. Smart. Witty.

Like you’re someone who’s special. Genuinely and utterly special.

Bruce Wayne was curing, one by one, all of those insecurities that plagued your life. All of those insecurities that slowly ate you from inside, and made you believe that you were never worthy enough.

Those insecurities that made you date only toxic people who made you feel like you were less than nothing. Those insecurities that stopped you from sending any of your novels to a publisher. Those insecurities that made you stare at the mirror every morning, thinking you were the ugliest of them all.

All of your insecurities, he was fiercely chasing them away.

Because to Bruce Wayne, you were the most special woman in the World, the most unique and talented one, and he’d be damn if he didn’t try to show you how amazing you were.

Slowly, but surely, you started to believe him.

Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t a talentless worthless human being.

Maybe, just maybe, you deserved all those good things happening to you, you deserved to be with a man like Bruce Wayne...You deserved all those praised about your writing.

Maybe. Just Maybe.

______________________________

Yeah. So...There’s that. As usual it got out of hand and ended up being way too fucking long. I didn’t proof read (as usual as well) and I feel like I might erase it. I know I often say that but...eh it’s too fucking long and cringy. SO MUCH CRINNNNNNNGE. That’s what I get for writing such a self-indulgent fic.

Anyway, feedbacks are always welcome (super important once again), hope you liked it and thank you for reading.

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