#gonna replace my laptop since it’s cooked but considering that I only use it to draw maybe I’ll just get an ipad instead??? I can play

[swordmaid]

folks who uses procreate to draw how do you find it compared to drawing on desktop

[charlotte-lavender]

Spring Blossoms, as does Love (pt. 5)

📷

Summary: Y/N and Kuroo share their first night together in what is now both of their home. In the morning, Y/N faces some anxiety about meeting Kuroo's volleyball team, whom he considers his friends.

A/N: Hey y'all! I hope you missed me, but I'm back!!! I was going to publish chapters five and six tonight, but decided against that, because it's almost three a.m. as I am writing this. (Sleep? We don't know her.) Also, let me know who you would like included on the team! I will write anyone in as a supporting character, just make sure that they have enough screentime to base some characterisation off of. Should I do MSBY? or Karasuno? Aoba Johsai? Let me know! Also, I know that this author's note is already long, but I just wanted to mention again briefly that I am writing for new fandoms! I will be adding a list to my pinned post, so go check it out, and if you have a request, please submit! Finally, remember I use British English, start in Y/N's POV, and stay safe! Love y'all!

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pro·ver·bi·al /prəˈvərbēəl/ 📷Learn to pronounce

adjective (of a word or phrase) referred to in idiom or expression. "I'm going to stick out like the proverbial sore thumb"

Coming home to Kuroo was a new experience. When I get home, I'm covered in dirt and sweat, and I usually jump right into the shower before putting on sweatpants and making dinner. Today, however, was different for obvious reasons. "I'm home!" I announce to the house as I enter. Dropping all of my stuff on the floor, I turn and see Kuroo looking at me from the counter, his laptop open and papers strewn about beside him. "Hi, Kuroo. How was your day?"

"Just fine. I got all of my stuff in, the important things at least. How about you?"

"That client of mine is really nice, but they have lots of property. It always takes me forever to get to everything."

"Aww, I'm sorry. I got takeout if you would like it. It's in the fridge."

"Thanks babe, I appreciate it."

Kuroo gives me a quick hug before releasing me to go eat.

**POV SWITCH**

After Y/N was done eating, he moved to the couch, and I went and curled him up next to me. "Tell me about your day." I ask him before realising that he was moving to get up.

"Sorry, babe, I really need to shower. It's almost seven, and you have work tomorrow, right?" He says, getting up and stretching his arms over his head, exposing his lower stomach for a quick second.

"Yeah, I do. But I want to make sure you're comfortable. It'll be a long day with the team tomorrow."

"Well, how about you take a shower with me? No funny business, though. I'm too tired."

"Okay, I'll be up in five. Just gonna save my document and get my paperwork put away."

He walks away up the stairs, and I hear the tap turn on. I feel my face begin to flush scarlet. He wants to shower with me? Since when is he that suave? Usually, he's a dork, but...

Realising that I've taken too long, I close my laptop and head upstairs. Opening the door to the bathroom, I see his clothes on the floor and his silhouette behind the shower curtain. I slowly strip and pull away the curtain, and he turns to look at me. Stepping into the shower, he wordlessly motions for me to turn around and get my head wet. He then reaches for the bottle of shampoo, squirts some on his hands, and begins to massage it into my hair.

**POV SWITCH**

After the shower, curled up on our bed, I finally feel calm. Wow. Our bed. That feels really weird to say. "Kuroo, babe," I whisper out to the dim room.

"Yeah?"

"I-," I take a deep breath. "I love you..." Realising the gravity of what I had just said, I snap my hands up to cover my mouth. Kuroo, having seen the whole scene, wordlessly reaches down and takes ahold of my wrist. Tugging on it gently, he eventually forces it to part company with my lips, instantly replacing it with his. Grabbing my waist and pulling me closer to his side, I melt deeper into his kiss. After what felt like a blissful eternity, Kuroo pulls away and whispers, "I love you too, cutie. Now get some rest. I want you to come meet some people tomorrow."

The following day comes a lot sooner than expected. My eyes flutter open to Kuroo's shining smile. "What time is it?" I ask him.

"Six o'clock. Now, get up, I have coffee."

"Yay!" I mumble, somehow managing to sound both annoyed and excited.

"So, Y/N, today I thought that I'd introduce you to the team." I sputter into my coffee, but Kuroo keeps talking. "Me and the guys that I coach, we aren't that different in age, so we get along quite well. It'll be more like meeting a bunch of my friends than some random group of college kids."

Hearing that, I sigh in relief but then begin to hyper-focus on something. Friends. They're Kuroo's friends. Oh no. Insecurities and past experiences begin to overwhelm me as Kuroo pulls me up and nudges me in the direction of the bathroom, promises of breakfast vaguely heard over the roar of thoughts in my head. I can't help but feel as though I'm stuck in a current and just along for the ride.

**POV SWITCH**

Packing lunch into small containers for our busy day is what I'm doing when Y/N stumbles into the kitchen. His hair, while dried, is a rat's nest, and he only has on one sock. Knowing where this is going, I pause and walk over to him. He freezes but lets me hug him. As I bury my head in his hair and smell his shampoo, I ask, "What's all this about?"

"Wh-what are you talking about, babe? I'm excellent." Y/N says unconvincingly.

"Come on, Y/N. You only ever get this frantic when you're anxious about something. You know you can talk to me, right? Is it about meeting the team?" I see him freeze, and I know that I've hit the proverbial* nail right on the head. "What about today is making you anxious?"

"I'm worried that if I don't make a good impression, they'll all convince you to dump me because they don't think I'm worthy of you, or something like that."

"Y/N, babe, I've told you once, and I'll say to you as many times as you need to hear it, I don't care what anyone says about our relationship. I will never, ever leave you. Besides, knowing them, they'll worship you like a god and wonder how you ended up with a guy like me."

"Thank you, Kuroo. I love you so, so much, okay? I can't wait to get a better view of your life."

Hearing that, I gave Y/N a quick peck on the cheek and ducked back behind the counter, placing our lunch in a bag while he finished getting ready.

**POV SWITCH**

Kuroo is a surprisingly good cook. That's what I'm thinking about, the remnants of breakfast churning happily in my stomach while he rolls down the road towards the city. I don't like the city. I don't go to the city. Somehow, though, this all feels okay.

[imagine-docx]

for b.

Summary: The three times Bucky was insecure, and the one time you proved you loved him with your entire heart. [continuation of sneaky] [chubby!neighbour!au]

Warnings: body shaming, self doubt, swearing

A/N: the amount of love i got on sneaky is astronomical! thank you all for reading my work, and for those of you who asked, here’s a lil part 2 for you. - amanda 💛

if you haven’t read sneaky, click here to read it. reading it isn’t necessary, but many highly recommend reading it. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You’ve made thousands of horrible decisions over the course of your life, but dating James Buchanan Barnes is not one of them. Dating him is probably one of the best things to happen to you. You still get butterflies anytime he picks you up from work, spontaneously calls you, random ‘i love you texts’, the entire works.

Since dating Bucky, you’ve seen his insecurities at an all time high. Which was completely understandable considering what happened to him in his last relationship.

For the first three weeks, he always tried hiding his metal arm. That was until one night you two were watching a movie in your living room and you practically had to crawl into his metal arm and reassure you loved him, metal arm or not.

He constantly shied away from your cell phone’s camera. Which ultimately resulted in you taking cute couple photos when he was asleep, and his face was buried in your neck, but he doesn’t know those photos exist.

One night the two of you were working at your living room table and he bent to give you a slice of pie, and his stomach accidentally brushed your arm. Which resulted in word vomit from him apologizing, and you opening the floodgate of reassurance telling him not to apologize and he was the cutest thing to exist.

The longer the two of you dated, it got slightly better, but still your heart ached at the fact that he doesn’t see himself as worthy enough to date you.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The morning after the first time you two had sex, was probably the worst you’ve seen him at.

That morning he rolled over to wrap his arm around you, but that was until he was greeted with a cold and empty space next to him. He opened his eyes and realized you were gone. He rolled back onto his back and covered his eyes with his flesh arm, and felt the tears form in his eyes. He knew you would be too disgusted at his naked body, and were right to run when you could.

He suddenly felt a weight straddling him, as well as a pair of soft hands cradle his face, “Baby? What’s wrong?”

His eyes snapped open, there you were in one of his old red henleys and your panties, “You’re here? I thought you left,” he managed to stammer out.

“Alpine looked like he was about to kill you if you withheld food from him for another twenty minutes. Though I love Alpine, I love having a super cuddly boyfriend more,” you said stroking the stubble that littered his jaw, “Now what’s got my baby boy upset?”

“I thought you left after seein-” you cut him off before he even got to his point.

“Nope, and I never will,” you looked into his eyes, “Buck, I love you for you. Six pack or not. Metal arm or not. That doesn’t change the fact that I love you, and will continue to love you.” You pushed the stray strands of hair out of his face, “I fell in love with that heart of gold you have. The one that cooks me dinner when I work late because he’s worried I'm not eating good. Or when he comes and picks me up out of nowhere for coffee. Or all those times we’ve cuddled while watching movies and you pretend you don’t fall asleep. Hell even when you’re pissed off at Mario Kart. I love everything about you.”

Bucky teared up once again before pulling you into his arms and engulfing you in the tightest hug you’ve ever gotten. He buried his face into your hair, “I love you so much doll.”

“I love you more Buck, don’t forget that,” you said stroking his back.

“Can we stay here all day?” He asked.

“As much as I want to say yes, we need food,” you said, as he pulled away and looked into your eyes.

“All the food I need is here,” he said squeezing at your hips.

“Listen babe, as much as this is fun, you worked up an appetite. I’m gonna need to eat if you’re gonna be jumping at my bones all day,” you said stroking his hair, “I got Wanda to drop off bagels and coffee, so we need to eat.”

He groaned before letting out a, “Fine.” He untangled himself from you, and got up and put on a pair of boxers, he looked back to see you looking at him biting your lower lip. “Are you checking me out?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re the hottest thing to walk this earth,” you said getting up from the bed.

He wrapped his arms around your waist before planting a peck onto your lips, “I love you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I love you more. Now go brush your teeth and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

He planted another soft one before releasing you, and the moment he turned around, he felt a light tap on his ass. He turned back to see you practically ran out of the bedroom giggling. You would be the death of James Buchanan Barnes.

The rest of your day consisted of random love making on random surfaces, cuddling, napping and eating.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The second time you’ve caught his insecurities at a high was one night that the entire office had to go for drinks late in the evening and he shot you a ‘SOS’ text.

You let yourself in with the key he gave you and made your way up to his bedroom, walking in, you saw the amount of clothing that buried his bed, and Alpine snuggled against one of his military green t-shirts.

You saw Bucky’s back in the closet, you quickly lifted up Alpine who meowed at you, and took the shirt and hid it under your body.

He didn’t know you were there, because he walked back and threw yet another set of clothes and yelped when he saw you were there, “Jesus Christ doll, warn me when you’re here next time.”

“Now as much as I love fashion, I didn’t think you were into it. So what’s happening?” You asked him, as he held up two shirts against his body in the mirror.

“Office drinks, and I have no clue what to wear. I was hoping my fashionable girlfriend would help her clueless boyfriend out,” he said turning around and pouting at you.

“I guess I have to put my job to use,” you jokingly said.

Looking at the pile of clothes on his bed, you knew he was searching for too long before he sent you the text. Kind of like how you can tell how old a fossil is based on how much material is on top of it.

“Did I break my girlfriend? Does she not even know where to start?” He jokingly asked.

“No, just my boyfriend being stupid and not realizing he looks cute in everything he wears,” you responded, looking under his pile of clothes.

He could feel his cheeks burn up, he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face into your hair, “Thank you.”

You managed to pull out a military green bomber jacket, a black t-shirt and some black jeans. “Bam, an outfit.”

He kissed your hair before pulling away, “Thank you doll.”

He was about to walk into the washroom to change, “Where do you think you’re going?” You asked.

“To change in the washroom?” He said, confused.

“Change here,” you said.

“A-are you sure?” He stuttered out.

“Buck, I’ve seen you naked thousands of times, this isn’t any different,” you said reassuring him.

He walked back to the bed, and slowly peeled his current outfit off of his body and replaced it with the one you provided him.

“What do you think?” He asked.

“I think that this would look better on the floor,” you said slyly.

He chuckled before throwing the shirt he was previously wearing at you, “Jokes on you, you’re never getting this back.”

“That’s fine with me doll, you look better in my clothes than I do,” he said.

“Are you sweet talking me to avoid paying me for styling services?” You faked offence.

“Is it working?” He joked back.

“A little,” you said fanning yourself.

He laughed, before coming around the other side of the bed, and wrapped his arms around your waist, and you instantly wrapped your arms around his neck. “Will you be here when I come back?” He asked.

“Can I borrow your Disney plus then?” You asked.

“Of course doll, you can have anything you want,” he said kissing your forehead.

“I think you made the worst decision telling me that,” you responded, burying your face into his chest.

“And why’s that?” he hummed out.

“I’m stealing your entire closet, and maybe your cat,” you said.

“I said what I said doll, you look better in my clothes.”

He felt this sense of warmth knowing his girlfriend picked out this outfit and he wore a smile with confidence, which didn’t go unnoticed by Sam. And Sam being the number one hype man he is, kept telling Bucky that if he didn’t have a girlfriend he would have snatched him by now.

He came home later than he anticipated, and heard the soft sounds of the tv playing from his room. He walked into his room hoping you were awake, but his heart melted at the site of you curled up in his bed, wearing his shirt, with his cat next to your sleeping form.

He let the TV softly play while he went to shower so he doesn’t wake you. He came back, moved Alpine to his bed on the floor, and crawled underneath the covers with you.

He thought his heart couldn’t get anymore mushy after seeing you in bed, but the moment he laid down, you curled up into his arms, and his heart exploded.

Turning off the TV, he got comfortable with you before falling asleep.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Bucky sat on your couch reading over one of the files for work, while you were typing away at your laptop. Your eyes were starting to hurt while you were finishing the final details for the fall fashion show that is supposed to happen within the next month.

Pushing yourself away from your laptop, you turned to study your boyfriend. He was in sweats, had his hair pulled back in a low bun, and were innocently chewing on the tip of his pen. “Babe?” You called out.

“Hmm?” He hummed out.

“I need to talk to you,” you responded.

He was still staring at the file in his hand, “Shoot doll.”

“I need your attention,” you responded.

He looked up, only to have you throw yourself into his arms and stay there. “Okay what do you want to talk about?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you responded.

“But you wanted my attention?” He asked, even more confused.

“That’s literally it, I needed your attention,” you said burying your face into his shirt.

He chuckled before tossing the file and pen onto the coffee table in front of him, he wrapped his arms around you. “And I thought I was the needy one.”

“How can I resist myself when I have a hunk of meat sitting on my couch?” You asked.

He rubbed gentle circles into your back, “Hunk? Never heard that one.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“I guess you’re right about that part doll.”

“Have you ever been to a fashion show?” You asked.

“Not in my lifetime,” he responded.

“Come to the one I have next month?” You asked.

“Will my pretty girlfriend be there?” He asked.

“Of course,” you responded.

“Then I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said squeezing you.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

It was the morning of the fashion show, and Bucky once again found himself panicking and not knowing what to wear. But this time he couldn’t send a ‘SOS’ to you because you were at work doing last minute touches on the show.

He turned around from his closet only to be greeted by Sam and Steve, “Jesus Christ,” he put a hand over his heart, “Do you knock?”

“No,” Steve responded as Sam dangled the spare key Bucky hid outside.

“Fuck both of you,” he grumbled.

“Listen, your girlfriend sent us because she knew you would have a heart attack picking out an outfit, and she also sent us tickets,” Steve said.

“And I’m gonna make sure my baby boy is dressed real nice,” Sam said, “Now move and let uncle Sam work his magic,” Sam continued before going into Bucky’s closet.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

It was 4:30, Sam, Steve and Bucky were standing in the venue sipping champagne whilst waiting for the hall to open for seating. Looking around, Bucky felt so out of place, “You look good Buck,” Steve noticed and reassured him.

“Of course Buck looks good, my man looks good all the time,” Sam said.

“Your man? I’m convinced he’s mine,” he heard a familiar voice from behind him. He turned around and had the air knocked out of him.

There you were, in a long sleeved black sequined shirt, that was tucked into your black shorts, and a pair of knee high heels. Even though it was simple, you were the only person who stood out in the room.

“Sam may be wrong about that, I’m only yours,” he said wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him.

“Sorry Sam, I won this round,” you joked.

“I got the two of you together and now you’re the sole owner for him? I call bullshit,” Sam retaliated.

“Okay fine, you get him Monday to Friday, and I get him weekends,” you negotiated.

“Now you’re talking.” Sam responded.

You heard someone call out your name, knowing you had to be pulled backstage yet again. “I gotta go, I’ll see you after?” You asked.

“Of course,” he said, before you pecked his lips and disappeared to where Carol called you.

“Tinman got some game,” Tony said coming up to the group.

“I didn’t know you were invited,” Steve said.

“I’m always invited to these things Cap, and lucky for you I am sitting next to you guys,” Tony responded, stealing Bucky’s champagne.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Bucky didn’t realize what was happening until Sam nudged his ribcage, “All of those look like things you would wear.”

And yes it was. There were henley’s, t-shirts, sweaters, jeans, sweatpants, hell they were in colours he would wear too, black, red, navy blue, military green, etc. It looked like someone took Bucky’s entire closet and remade all of his clothes and put it on display for him to see.

He also realized there were models of different sizes, some with prosthetics, and he felt his heart swell. He knew you managed to convince everyone there to do this. He never thought you would do it on such a grand scale of doing it at a fashion show.

For the remainder of the show, he sat there with the biggest smile on his face and it didn’t even falter, not even once.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Bucky waited for you to finish up before taking you out for milkshakes and a walk in the park. Since it was colder than when you left this morning, he draped his suit jacket on you, and held your hand. You were sipping on your milkshake before Bucky asked, “Did you put together the entire show for me?”

“What gave it away? The fact I literally stole your closet to do this? Or the fact it’s called ‘For B.’?” You asked.

He nearly choked on his milkshake, “You named it what?”

You stopped and looked him in the eye, “‘For B.’ because it’s for Bucky. I know you always talk about how you aren’t as pretty as models, which is a complete lie might I add and they don’t wear what you wear. So I thought, why not make it for you. I’m sorry if you don’t li-”

You were cut off by Bucky engulfing you into his arms, “Doll, no one has ever done that for me.”

“I love you Buck,” you said looking up at him.

“I love you more doll,” he said, kissing you.

[hiddlestonsbabygirl]

Care For Me (Steve Rogers au) SugarDaddy!Steve

•part one•

An alternative universe where Steve isn’t an Avenger, but rather a CEO of one of the biggest companies in the US. His best friend and business partner Bucky secretly made him an account in an online dating site for sugar daddies and sugar babies, setting Steve up on a date with the only suitable sugar baby he thought was best for his best friend among the million others in his inbox.

It’s you. You’re the sugar baby.

Or,

Where reader is a med student who is badly in need of financial support and resorted to desperate measures by signing up to an online dating site with a little help from reader’s best friend, Nat.

Contains: natasha x reader moment (but platonic!)

A/N: thank you guys for the great reviews on the prologue! I hope you’ll enjoy this one as well! Tags are still open! x

Ps. I’m sorry it took so long for me to update, I’ve been really busy for finals and now that everything’s been put on hold, I can finally focus on this story!

Stay safe you guys! ❤️

•••

“Thanks again for the help, Nat. I’d probably be in the streets by now if you weren’t around.” You thanked before bringing your mug of hot tea to your salty lips. Why, it was because of your crying.

“No need to thank me, (Y/N). You know I’m always one call away.” Natasha replied with a wink, her fit physique sprawled out on her queen-sized bed. You both spent the previous hour gathering your things and bringing it over to your best friend’s house with a little help from her parents. You were like family to them, so when Mr. and Mrs. Romanoff found out that you’ve been kicked out of your apartment they were rushing to your aid in a heartbeat.

“You know, I could work a few extra hours and do some chores around here and help your mom.” You announced and shrugged. “Just a little way of saying thank you to them.”

Nat scoffed. “(Y/N), you could barely even last a week in a job because of your busy schedule in school. Plus, mom wouldn’t let you do that. She’d probably kill me if I let you do house chores.”

“But Nat, this is too much!” You sighed, putting down your mug on the bedside table and joining your best friend on the bed with a little flop, your body bouncing a little as you did so.

Nat sat up and looked you dead in the eyes, her hand hovering above yours. “You’re never too much for mom and dad. They know how hard med school is and they’ve known you since seventh grade! You’re like a second daughter to them!”

You could feel tears prick the corners of your eyes but refused to let them fall. You were tired of crying and you wanted to show your best friend that you’re strong.

“Thank you, Nat. For the millionth time. I could never say it enough because you’ve done so much for me these past few years.” Your voice broke. “You’ve been saving my life ever since.”

As much as you refused, the tears fell. But you weren’t the only one this time. As Natasha pulled you in for a hug, tears welled up in her eyes as well. It hurt her seeing you struggle and try to hide it from her. She knew that you’re strong; you have been ever since. But to see you break down in front of her didn’t fail to ache her own heart, too.

And you both stayed like that for several minutes. You both enjoyed the comforting silence, your best friend’s arms wrapped around you while you calmed yourself as your eyelids began to feel heavy. Just as you were about to doze off Nat jolted upwards and you flinched.

“Holy shit, I have the stupidest but brilliant idea.” She gasped out, her eyes wide and filled with excitement. The emotional, melodramatic feel in the air was gone and was soon replaced by Nat’s excitement.

“Stupid and brilliant? Nat what—“

“You should sign up for an online dating site.” She grinned as she pointed at you, your brows drawn together in confusion as you processed the words that left her mouth.

“Natasha, no. Dating is already heavy work. I don’t need to worry for another human being when I’m struggling to take care of myself and my studies. So no, thank you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to worry too much in this kind of relationship, (Y/N).”

Your confusion grew.

“Because he’s gonna take care of you.”

You watched as she took out her laptop and opened it enthusiastically, her fingers running smoothly across the keyboard with each letter she typed until she turned it around so the screen was facing you.

“Sweet as Sugar Online Dating Site.” You read. “Where you’ll find just the right amount of sweetness you look for in a sugar baby/sugar daddy/sugar mommy. Over 1,000,000+ users. Sign up now!”

“Sign up now!” Natasha repeated, an overanimated grin across her lips as she watched your shocked face.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“Oh, come on! I know what you’re thinking,” she giggled as she turned the laptop to her again and began typing. “Whenever you think of a sugar daddy, what comes to mind is an old, fat man with a boatload of cash. But! With this site, you can fill up a form asking what you want in a sugar daddy.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing right now.

“Come, I’ll show you!” She exclaimed as she patted the space next to her. You shook your head in disbelief as you made your way next to your best friend, watching her fill up your biodata in the pink and purple themed website.

“Nat you can’t be serious.” You tried to laugh, but it came out more of a whine. Natasha ignored you and continued to fill out the form, confident that she knew just what to fill in about yourself.

“Okay, display photo. I think I have a couple of good ones of you saved on my laptop.”

She then proceeded to scroll through her library, pictures of the both of you coming to view from past moments—birthdays, Christmas, school events, and just about everything you’ve shared with your best friend.

She finally decided on a portrait of you, a picture she took just last year when you both went on a vacation in Malibu. You were wearing a white off-shoulder dress, looking away from the camera as you laughed shyly, one hand holding on to your beach hat and the other holding down the hem of your dress to keep the wind from lifting the skirt up.

“Oooh, I like this one! It’s a subtle look, yet it shows your side-profile. Daddies would love to see more of you just from this picture!” She exclaimed, pressing on the photo and it only took several seconds before your portrait was uploaded on the site.

“Nat, this is ridiculous.” You groaned out, leaning back against the headboard as you imagined yourself dating someone ten years older than you, or someone twice your age. It’s not that you were against people in relationships that have big age gaps; you just couldn’t imagine yourself being in one, considering the fact that you were awkward and shy and downright busy.

“Not until you fill up this form.” She returned, putting the laptop on your lap and in front of you was a form asking you what you liked in a person, your preferred age, what type of relationship, the like.

“Dude, you could literally just put 5-years older as your preferred age and it would give you a shitload of results!” Natasha added. “Come on, please? If you can’t find someone you think is suitable for you, then it’s fine. We could delete your account and just drop it off. I just thought we’d give it a go, because you kinda need someone to fill your empty heart as well.”

The teasing grin on her lips made you roll your eyes. “One, my heart isn’t empty. I have you and your family in here. Two, your idea is weird and crazy. And three,”

You looked down on the screen and bit your lip, bracing yourself for what you were about to say next.

“I’m gonna sign up. For you.”

What do you look for in a sugar mommy/daddy?

Someone who can provide for me financially while I study in medical school.

How old is your preferred age?

5 years older than me. No more than that.

What are your hobbies?

Eating, cooking, reading books, watching movies, sleeping

What are your likes and dislikes?

I really love pizza. I like staying up at night, and I really really love stargazing. I also love books and coffee shops. They’re my favorite.

I don’t have many dislikes though, I just hate surprise tests and cramming for exams. I also don’t like being bothered with when I’m studying.

Please choose below what you would likely prefer in a relationship. You can tick off as many as you like.

⚪️ BDSM

🔘 Balanced relationship

🔘 Cohabitation/Domestic Partnership (living in the same household as your partner; no marriage required)

⚪️ Friends with Benefits

🔘 Long Distance Relationship

⚪️ Marriage

🔘 Monogamous (exclusive relationship; only dedicated to one partner)

⚪️ Nonmonogamous (open to more than one partner)

🔘 Platonic

⚪️ Polyamory

⚪️ Sexual Partner

🔘 Temporary Partnership/Relationship

Thank you! Your account will be set up in a few minutes. Please wait.

“Holy shit I’m really doing this Nat.” You gasped as you watched a buffering circle indicating that your account was currently being created.

Natasha cackled next to you. “So you’d like a live-in partner, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “It could be helpful considering my situation right now.”

A ‘ping!’ sounded from the laptop and it notified that your account has been officially made. You were then directed to a new page. It was your very own profile page, showing your display photo and name at the top, and everything that you answered a while ago followed just below your name. Next to your display photo showed the number of followers and people you’re following, and the topmost right of the page was a white envelope, serving as your inbox.

“Wow,” you breathed out. “That was fast.”

“Okay!” Nat exclaimed enthusiastically. “Now all we have to do is wait!”

You groaned out as Nat took the laptop from your lap and you stretched your legs out, slightly tense from being curled in your recent position. You were starting to feel sleepy, so you decided to push yourself even lower on the bed until your head hit the soft pillow perfectly.

“I don’t know about you, but I think I’ll check on that tomorrow. I’m getting tired.” You announced as you yawned and stretched your arms out, one hand hitting your best friend on the cheek.

“Yeah, okay. We can check this out tomorrow. Tomorrow’s Sunday anyway.” Natasha agreed as she closed her laptop and put it on her bedside table, turning the lamp off in the process.

“Good night, Nat.”

“Good night sugar baby.”

...

Bucky arrived at his condominium, ignoring calls from his best friend. After he suddenly left lunch leaving Steve confused, the man wouldn’t stop calling him and sending him messages. He plopped down his velvet couch, grabbing his laptop that lay untouched on the coffee table, turning it on and became eager to open a website. He learned about this new website when he overheard a co-worker of his talking to another co-worker about some site for sugar babies. He instantly became curious, wanting to see how legit it was and before he knew it he found himself creating an account for his own.

He wants to help his best friend so bad. Steve has been too unyielding and bloody-minded. He doesn’t even try to put an effort when he’s been set up with dates, leaving women sad and disappointed. All Steve needed was the right woman to get him back in the game.

And this website just might help.

He began creating another account, filling in Steve’s biodata without hesitation. He chose a display picture that would surely catch girls’ attention. It was the one where he was invited to a grand opening of a new company owned by a few famous people and paparazzi were there, taking all Steve’s good angles and Bucky had saved one where he loved the most. He wore a suit and his hair was slicked back, his striking blue eyes gleaming in the light and a hint of pink lips protruding from his thick beard.

Once the account has been finally created and ready for matchmaking, Bucky began his search for eligible women that would be just right for his best friend.

...two hours later...

Hopeless. Bucky was beginning to feel so hopeless. Sure, he’s already come across countless of beautiful women but when he read their whole profile he began to hesitate. He wanted a girl that even he would certainly say yes to for his best friend, knowing that Steve Rogers was one picky man.

Just when he was in the verge of tears and about to give up, one girl caught his eye.

She was in the beach, laughing shyly and looking away from the camera, a hand holding on to her off-shoulder dress and the other keeping her beach hat from flying away.

She’s perfect.

She seemed shy and innocent and downright adorable; she’d be perfect for Steve’s dominant and stern facade.

Bucky was quick to send her a message.

Hi :) would you like to meet up sometime? I’m not much of a chatting-type of guy and I’d rather get to know you better in person. How about over a cup of coffee? x

That sounded a bit rushed. But Bucky just cannot wait any longer. He’s just going to hope that this girl knows the ever famous Steve Rogers and would instantly say yes.

............... ............... ............... ............... ............... ...............

Tags: @heyiamthatbitch @little-dark-empress @verdonafrost @fallenoutofrose @janell-r @ctrl-alt-jeon @radi0active-thoughts @veronawrites @art-estrange @polarcrystall @emilypkuzu @arizonalovesher @connerkentx @kovuthebean @sweetlittlegingy @daahlias @astridsagevans @tazzi-baby @laneygthememequeen @spideys-wife @the-thighs-of-betrayal @wxstedhexrt @domolovee @selluequestrian @rootcrop @rororo06 @ashleybang @evansmess @clueless-333 @sp2900 @x-black-haired-emo-x @ashxmarvel @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @songbirdmia @pepitasab @brokenrogerz @holographic84 @imahoeforbucky @starstruckpersonearthquake @illbethethundertoyourlightning

I’m sorry for those who can’t be tagged, I couldn’t find your account :( hmu if there’s been a mistake! x

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #285

"do you have the time to listen to me whine about nothing and everything all at once?”

What does your car smell like? You assume I have a car. Would you ever let anybody else drive your car? ^ Have you ever met someone in person who you first met on the internet? Do you have plans to do that anytime soon? Yes, Sara. I want to visit her again, but right now I have no clue when that will happen. I have another friend that wants me to shoot her wedding that was planned for this year, but it was delayed to an unknown date, so. What was the last thing you used a blender for? A margarita. Have you ever got into an argument with a stranger on social media? Do you remember what it was about? Yep. There's been a couple. Has COVID had any impact on your Christmas plans this year? What’s going to change or be different to normal? Yes. Mom and I aren't coming while Ashley's inlaws are there at her house, and then I think we're going to my other sister's since she wants to cook? I've only really overheard Mom over the phone, I'm not 100%. I'm just. Going with it. What’s your favourite flavor of cake? Are you any good at making that kind of cake? Probably red velvet, or just double chocolate. I dunno. I love cake. I don't cook, though. Are you currently under any COVID-related restrictions where you live? Are people generally following the rules? Well, you're SUPPOSED to wear a fucking mask, but "it's a hoax" and "you can't make me" fuckheads don't listen, and it's poorly-enforced. You see people without them all the time. Do you still watch cartoons? I'm not opposed, I just don't watch television. Is anyone else in the same room as you right now? What is that person up to? No. Do you use Pinterest? Ha, I get most of my (unedited) avatars from there. It also gives me some pose ideas for photography. Are you wearing earrings? Ugh, no. I absolutely hate how the first holes stretched from heavy earrings. I need to get a proper tapering set if I want to actually use gauges (mind you, very small) so they look even semi-good again. I don't wear any in the second/upper holes because I think it just looks weird with nothing in the first. Do you know any sign language? Not anymore. In elementary school, we did do a play however where in one of the songs, we signed the lyrics. I remember zero. Have you ever gone on a service trip to an underprivileged country? No. Which breed of dog do you find most scary? None. Ever been to a pottery class? Not particularly, no. I've made pottery in normal art classes multiple times, though. When you were young, did you ever pretend to “marry” somebody? I have no idea. I don't have a specific memory. Don’t you just find it annoying when people get too much plastic surgery? Oh, fuck off. Is it your body? Is it there to boost YOUR confidence? Then your opinion doesn't fuckin matter. Are you the type who usually plays it safe? Yep. Who do you think about most? It's certainly not willingly, but Jason. PTSD kinda engraved his presence in my brain. How’s your grandmother? Both are dead. What’s your favourite type of cloud? Big, tall, and poofy cumulonimbus ones. Do you have a birthmark? Where? Does it look like anything? Yeah, a slightly darker brown blotch on the side of my right forearm, near the elbow. If you were blind for the rest of your life… what would you miss seeing the most? Probably people smiling. My nieces' and nephew's came to mind first. What is your most disappointing moment in life? I've been living it for years now. I'm not who I wanted or thought I would be at all. What is the best reward anyone can give you? Validation lmao. What is your favorite animal? List three adjectives to explain your choice. Meerkats, always. God, I can barely boil it down to three words. Loyal, complex, and brave will have to do. What is your favorite color? List three adjectives to explain your choice. Pink. Soft, pretty, gentle. What do you consider to be the most valuable thing you own: when you were a child/teenager/now? As a child, my big plastic crocodile named Marlin (yes, after the Finding Nemo character) that was the "main character" in my games of make-believe. As a teen, probably Rebel, the stuffed meerkat Jason gave me. Now, it's absolutely the pebble I got upon "graduation" from my partial hospitalization program. What’s the kindest act you have ever seen done? I'm not sure; I've seen a good deal. Thinking of only the ones I've seen in-person, uhhhh... wait. A couple days before my overdose, in desperation, I called Jason's house in the middle of the night wanting to talk to him. His mom answered, and she talked to me for hours with such patience and kindness to try and calm me down. I miss her a lot. Is Frozen one of your favorite Disney movies? No, I never really liked it. If you were an explorer, would you rather explore the Arctic Circle, Antarctica, or Alaska? Ohhh, Alaska. It's gorgeous and at least not absolutely frigid everywhere. How many blankets do you sleep with in the winter? I usually just have my usual thick comforter, but if I'm seriously cold, I'll grab another smaller one to wrap myself in underneath the big one. Do you know of anyone who was in labor or gave birth to a baby during a major snowstorm? HAHA my mama w/ me. Do you enjoy eggnog during the winter - with or without alcohol? EW. Do you dress any of your pets in seasonal/holiday apparel? No; I really dislike the concept of dressing your animals unless it's truly for their own benefit/warmth. Who was the last person to give you a gift? What was the reason for it? Uhhhhh. I have no idea. Are you a good cook? If so, who taught you? What’s your favourite thing to cook? NOOOOOOO. When was the last time something in your house broke? Did you manage to fix it or did you need to buy a replacement? Ugh, my laptop is fucked up. It's either the charger port, charger itself, or Mom thinks perhaps the battery. Her friend's husband is gonna look at it after Christmas. Is any part of your body hurting right now? What caused that pain? For once my legs aren't hurting. They almost always do from either muscle atrophy or them having been still for too long. The last time you made a sandwich, what did you put in there? It was just a normal 'ole peanut butter sandwich. What’s your favorite time of day? What’s your favorite thing to do at that time? First thing in the morning, because it feels like a new start. I like watching the sky change from pinkish to blue while I'm just sitting in bed checking everything. Where did you go the last time you left your house? I rode with Mom to her doctor's appointment. I didn't go in w/ her for obvious reasons, I just wanted to go on a ride and listen to music. If you eat steak, how do you like it cooked? What sauces or sides do you like to go with it? It has to be medium well. Idk what sauces are cooked into it that I like, because I don't make it. I like fries with steak, and probably Sara's mom's mashed potatoes would go well, haha. Do you prefer sweet or savory pancakes? What toppings do you have on them? I can't imagine me liking savory pancakes... I just like the usual: butter (not mandatory tho) and syrup. Are you someone who cracks their joints a lot? Which one(s) do you tend to crack and click the most? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NO NO NO, I HATE THE NOISE SO MUCH. My lower spine pops a lot, though. Some fingers occasionally, too. Have you ever taken medication or tablets to help you sleep? Is this something you do on a regular basis? Yeah, I was taking Melatonin to fight insomnia for quite a while. I only stopped it because my mom was theorizing that it may have been making my nightmares worse, because her dad had AWFUL nightmares on it. I don't know if it did or didn't foor me, honestly. For you, what’s the worst thing about getting up in the morning? What about the worst thing about going to bed tonight? Knowing in the back of my mind that despite my hope, today's going to be the same as yesterday. I dread most nights the process of lying down and actually falling asleep, because it can take hours. Do you prefer regular or diet soft drinks? Not only do I think diet sodas taste bad, but the artificial sweetener gives me awful headaches, anyway. What do you tend to wear if you’re just hanging about the house for the day? I'm only always in my pjs. When was the last time you dyed your hair? Did you do it yourself or get it done at a hairdresser? Ugh... it's been a very, very long time. It was done by a hairdresser, but per usual, the color didn't stick well. I am DYING to bleach my hair so I can dye it pastel pink, light silver, or like a creamsicle orange. I edited some pictures of myself to "try" these colors on, and omg I loved them all. Does having to wear a mask stop you doing things? Is this because you struggle wearing one or you just don’t like it? Not really, no. I barely go anywhere at all though, so I have Have you ever witnessed a car accident? Or have you perhaps been involved in one yourself? Were you at fault? Yes; yes; no. How many books do you read in a year? Do you enjoy reading or do you have to really force yourself to sit down and read? VERY few. I've only just gotten back into semi-regularly reading since Sara got me into Wings of Fire. I have one friend though that is an INCREDIBLE bookworm; she keeps track of how many books she's read in a year, and she's already beyond one a day. It's incredible. If you have pets, where did they come from? A breeder, a rescue or maybe a friend who bred their pet? Roman came from Ashley's inlaws'. They have like an infestation of cats needing to be spayed, so they didn't at all mind letting me have one because I'd been wanting a cat for a long time. I love my baby boy so much. Venus came from The Gourmet Rodent, a snake breeding (and F/T rat provider, as the name suggests) business from Florida. I highly recommend them. Their customer service was fantastic when I was worried about Venus not eating. They even checked up with me a few months following my emails to ensure she was doing well. Have you ever seen an episode of My 600lb Life? No. I absolutely NEVER could. As an obese person who's been fighting her fucking ass off to lose weight for years, I don't want to be further depressed. Do you feel bad when someone asks you to hang out and you say no? Oh yes I do. Ngl, if I don't want to hang for whatever reason, I'm the kind that makes up an excuse to not seem *as* "rude" (quotations bc it's technically not rude at all, anxiety just tells me it is). When was the last time you turned down plans with someone? What did you decide to do instead? Ummmm I'm not sure. Have you ever had any “unusual” or exotic pets? If you could own any animal, what would it be and why? Do you consider iguanas or Chinese water dragons as "exotic/unusual?" Nothing stranger than that, really. I would never, ever own a truly exotic animal that wouldn't do well in captivity. I do however pretty desperately want to rescue an opposum one day, though. I positively adore them; they're my second-favorite animal. How often do you wash your hair? I don't even have a regular schedule for that anymore, honestly... I have to every time I shower because my hair gets oily FAST, but I try to put off showers as long as I can handle now because of how bad my selfcare has been for multiple reasons... What have you found the hardest about the current pandemic? Not seeing an end in sight because people are fucking dumb. Shit's not going to get better unless things drastically change. And what about the easiest? Has anything improved in your life because of what’s happened? Certainly nothing has improved. Not much has changed for me, considering I barely ever left the house to begin with. If you have multiple pets, do they get along with each other? Are they related or even the same species? They ignore each other, really. Surprisingly, even. Roman will sit on my bed and watch Venus slither about occasionally if she's out, even meerkat pose haha, and playful as he is, it's unexpected that he *does* mostly ignore her. What was the last meal you ate? Did you have anything good? Breakfast; I had Special K cereal. I've finally started to get back on track with eating okay. Do you live somewhere where strangers say hi to you in the street? Would you like to live somewhere like that? Where we live now, if you pass someone outside in the car, it's normal and really expected to give a little wave. That's very normal here in the South though, really; you don't just have to be in your own neighborhood. Have you ever tried any of those meal replacement shakes? The chocolate Equate ones are normal in my diet, actually. They're really not bad at all and played a big role in me losing ~60lbs before. Funnily enough, I haven't found a popular name brand I like, though. Cheap stuff isn't always bad. Do you make up silly nicknames for your pets or family members? "Silly" ones, not really, besides Roman. I call him "weirdo" and "crazy" a lot, but nothing truly unique. What’s your favorite thing to take photographs of? Are you actually any good at photography? Nature or boudoir (only shot it once, but I love it and the confidence it gives people). Being as modest as possible, I honestly do think I'm pretty good at it. Do you have anything interesting planned for the rest of the day? How about for tomorrow or the weekend? I haven't had anything interesting planned in eons, it seems like. Are you going to take the vaccine for COVID once it becomes available? Once it proves to be reliable and safe, hell yes. I'm doing my goddamn part in ending this shit. How much housework have you done lately? Is this more or less than usual? A bit more than usual since I haven't finished decorating my room since moving... I've been doing it very slowly and gradually. I need to just finish it already, I'm just so unmotivated. What gifts are you hoping to get for your next birthday (or Christmas, whichever one is coming up next)? I'm fucking dying to get my tat redone/improved. Been waiting since LAST Christmas when I didn't get to use my own gifted money. Do you suffer from any form of motion sickness? No. Do you contribute regularly to any Facebook groups at all? "I’m a member of plenty, but hardly ever post." <<<< Same. I react to posts a lot, though. Just don't really make my own. When was the last time you weighed yourself? Were you happy with the numbers you saw? Ugh... when I went to the doctor I think last week. I knew it'd be bad, but the verification fucking sucked. Since moving, I've gained ~30lbs. Have you got any chronic health issues? What do you do to try and manage them as best you can? YIKES I am a CATASTROPHE. I've got a dictionary of mental health issues that I'm not gonna go through individually, but I deal with them via prescription medications and therapy and sheer will. Who taught you how to drive? My driver's ed teacher. It was mandatory in HS. What was your high school mascot? A firebird. Did you go to your senior prom? Yes. What did you do after graduation? I very briefly went to a community college. What was your first job? GameStop sales associate. If my social anxiety wasn't fucking shit, I probably would have liked it. What did you want to be when you grew up? Somewhat in order: paleontologist, vet, movie director, game designer, animal biologist, video editor (VERY brief), and photographer. Writer, poet, and artist were always something I wanted to do in my free time OR full time if I was lucky. Do you remember the first time you drank a beer? I've never tried beer and don't want to. It smells fucking awful, and because my dad is a recovered alcoholic who was addicted to that in specific, I just want nothing to do with it. Did you ever try cigarettes? No. I have absolutely never understood the appeal, but with a very addictive personality and wild anxiety, I never wanted to risk it, anyway. How did you spend your summers growing up? LOADS of swimming in the pool, jumping on the trampoline, and just playing outside in general. If you could change anything from your teenage years, would you? I'd absolutely change how I found happiness only in Jason. Do you remember your first time? No, because at that time, I didn't really realize it was sex. I know that sounds weird, like "how would you not know?", but just trust me. I don't feel like retrospecting on it. I do remember our first *kiss*-kiss, though. How much did you make per hour at your first job? I don't recall. Favorite home-cooked meal growing up? I looooved spaghetti. Favorite place to eat out growing up? McDonald's, duh, lol. Did your parents live in a different country before you were born? No. They were from different states, though. Do you have a preferred coffee brand? Don't like coffee. Have you ever dated someone who was terrible with money? No. How often do you paint your nails? Never. Do you know anyone who's related to a current or former world leader? Not that I know of. Do you do your own taxes, or do you hire a professional? I don't pay taxes because I'm unemployed. What is something you don't have any natural talent for? Speaking. At all. What is something you frequently forget? "Numbers." <<<< BIG fat same. How do you feel about your body? How much I hate it is on my mind literally every waking moment of my life to some degree. Who is someone you would like to get to know better? So I have this Facebook friend Courtlynn who seems very similar to me, and I'd love to get to know her better. We interact via posts here and there, but have never seriously talked. What's your opinion on assisted suicide? I am very much for it when a person is in serious pain and recovery is not possible. Like one of my greatest nightmares is being paralyzed from the neck down, and I stg I would spite whichever fucker had jurisdiction over me living. That would be absolute torture for me. At what point do you consider a relationship to be "long-term?" A year, so long as you were consistently together. Stable. What jobs did your parents have when you were growing up? My dad's been a mailman my entire life, and he had a second job at Lowe's for a while as a carpenter. He hated it. Mom worked with computer data at the hospital when I was very young, and then she was an assitant and special needs teacher for a long time. Do they still have these jobs? Or different jobs? Or have they retired? ^ about Dad. It's his only job now. Mom is currently on disability. Do you have a cell contract plan, or are you on a pre-paid plan? Would you believe me if I said I'm unsure? Haha. I use a Tracfone, and my mom takes care of whatever plan comes with that, so idk. Would your parents be okay with you dating someone of another race? Mom, absolutely. I'm unsure about Dad. I mean he wouldn't *seriously* care so long as they were good to me, but I think he might still be kinda racist. Or he just jokes about it a lot (which should not be joked about, btw). Do you like when friends stop by unexpectedly? "No way lol. I’m very much of a loner and want to be “prepared” to spend time with people." <<<< Absolutely this. How strong are your feelings for the last person you kissed? I love her very, very much. What was the last thing someone else bought for you? Food, I'm sure. Are you attracted to the last person you exchanged numbers with? I haven't seen a picture of her in years, so I have no idea. I remember she was beautiful, though. Is music a daily part of your life? Not daily, no. Some days I only watch YT videos instead of listen to music. What do you think of country music? Not a fan at all. It's ironic considering it was my favorite genre as a little kid. There's the occasional country song I like (mostly ones from my childhood, though), but those are few and far between. Tim McGraw, now, I love. Did you go to your high school’s graduation? Yeah, even though I didn't want to. I didn't care enough about the actual ceremony. Who was the last person to message you on Facebook? What would you do if that person told you they have feelings for you? That would be the woman I took family pictures for. She's married and we barely know each other, so I can assure you she doesn't. When you apply your make-up, do you do it in a specific order? On the very rare occasion I wore makeup, yes. Eyeliner, usually eyeshadow, mascara, and most rarely, black lipstick. Does it matter to you if your significant other smokes? Yes. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? Mom, I think. Do you like where you are in life right now? HA. Is your mom overbearing? No.

[purplesurveys]

723

What do you do when you can't sleep? I pick something to watch. Usually the background noise works in making me feel sleepier. Have you ever been threatened before? Physically, verbally, emotionally... I’ve had the full package. Don't you hate being labeled? I hate if it’s done in a mocking way or to reinforce insulting stereotypes, like Catholic Filipino boomers saying all atheists are evil and in need of ‘saving.’ But there are some labels that can be a source of comfort and give me a sense of identity, like if my friends can correctly remember my sexual orientation. Are you one of those people who says sorry too much or doesn't say it often? I do say it a lot. I also get reprimanded for it a lot. Have you ever had a cute doctor/dentist/nurse? No, and I mostly don’t think of them in that way... if I’m at the doctor/dentist, that just means I want to be healed lol.

Do you swallow your gum even though it's bad for you? I’ve never done it on purpose. The few times I accidentally swallowed gum I was worried it’d fuck up my stomach, but nothing bad has ever happened. Don't you hate it when you go to the bathroom & there's no toilet paper? I mean my parents always buy tissues in bulk, so we’ve never run out of them. If I catch the roll being empty, it’s easy to replace. ^When that happens do you ever just sit there & read shampoo bottles? We have bidets in our bathrooms. For houses with no bidets, the pair of tabo/balde would do to wash ourselves, at least for Filipino culture. Going into TMI territory over here but the idea of some countries/people only using dry toilet paper to wipe their ass has always been so odd for Asians. Do you wear jelly bracelets? Do you believe in the sexual meanings of them? I wore them a few times during childhood but I wasn’t obsessed nor did I collect hundreds of them. I didn’t know they had sexual meanings – that would’ve been my last thought as a kid. Are you good at guessing things? Not guessing, but I’ve had a decent track record of picturing and predicting worst case scenarios that end up happening close to the way I imagine them. Have you ever gambled? I played Bingo when I was like 9. There was a period when my late grand-aunt’s friends would come over at her place (we lived in a duplex, so I knew whenever a game was starting and it was easy to walk over there) and play Bingo, and it lasted for a few months. When your stomach growls do you ignore it for awhile or immediately get food? I like waiting for a while before deciding I’m *really* hungry and looking for food. Have you ever thrown up on someone in front of you on a amusement park ride? OMG, never. Have you ever thought you were dreaming so you had someone actually pinch you? No. I only ever saw this in cartoons, too. When you get nervous, does your heart pound extra fast? Isn’t that kind of an important sign of being nervous though? If my heart wasn’t beating fast I’d think that everything was under control. Have you ever mowed your lawn? Do you find it fun or annoying? Our village has a staff member that’s in charge of mowing everyone’s front lawns, so we don’t really have to. Do you have a garden at your house? I wouldn’t call it a garden. We have a couple of tall trees but that’s it. Do you like making puppet figures with your shadow? I don’t hate it, but like I don’t actively seek this out. When you're on the internet does time go fast or slow? When I was 10 and the internet was still fairly new to me and there were still a billion sites to check out, time was definitely fast. I’d be on the laptop all day and suffice it to say I was addicted, which wasn’t the healthiest situation for a 10 year old. These days time just feels normally paced since we’ve grown used to the internet now... it’s literally a part of everyone’s lives and is everywhere from phones to TVs to fucking lightbulbs, so it’s all just part of everyday routine. When you're angry do you take it out on other people? I make it a point not to do this but sometimes I’ll crack under pressure and end up snapping at someone. What's the key to true happiness? Key’s different for everyone. Who do you look up to for your style? For the longest time it was Audrey Hepburn, which is why I have a ton of little black dresses piled up in my closet to this day. More recently though I’ve been wanting to dress up like Rachel Green from Friends. What was the longest phone conversation you've ever had? Ugh it’s so cringey now but when Gab and I were newly dating we once had an 8 hour Viber call. Never did it again.

How many pillows do you sleep with? Two big ones. What's your life philosophy? “You don’t have to be blood to be family” ngh I say this on surveys a lot. Soz, questions like this make me repeat it. Have you ever played strip poker or would you ever? I’ve never played it. I don’t even know how poker works and it’s so annoying cause my favorite shows tend to make at least one episode focused on a poker game, and I’m left not understanding any of the dialogue. Would you still go out with someone even if you thought they would cheat on you? These cheating questions can be so tricky but generally I wouldn’t consider dating someone who I know to be a past cheater. Would you date someone who didn't want to have sex until they were married? Yes. I mean I was already this kind of person with Gabie anyway when we started dating; she was just able to change my mind which I’m super ok with because I’ve never regretted it. How much cash do you have on you right now? I have a little over P2000 in my wallet. My school has since ordered to end the semester by April 30 so I had no idea that the P2000 my parents gave me last March was gonna be my last allowance from them ever :’( What's your favorite thing to order at a Mexican food restaurant? I haven’t really had Mexican food that’s purely Mexican, i.e. not Tex-Mex. Idk if it’s right to say fajitas and chimichangas since Google says they’re Tex-Mex, but they’re my usuals. If you got to magically make somebody disappear, who would it be and why? Can I make a virus disappear instead? Do you prefer to cook or eat out? Eat out. Because I can’t cook. Have you ever peed yourself while laughing? Never. When you don't like someone, do you let them know? I mean obviously I don’t confront them directly just to say I don’t like them, but I’ll make extra effort to avoid them and I just wouldn’t interact if we happen to be in the same room. How would you build your ultimate sundae? Not really a sundae girl so I wouldn’t know what combination works. McDo’s hot fudge sundae is satisfying enough for me. Would you date someone who went to church on a regular basis? If it came to that, and especially if I really like the person, I might give them a chance (that’s a billion plus points for my mom, anyway) on the condition that they don’t force me to attend with them, and they don’t try to convert me. What is your favorite curse word? Fuck. Would you rather see a movie at the theater or at home on DVD? Egh it depends. There are movies I can be excited enough about to wanna catch it in the cinema, and there are some that I’m not invested as much in and that I could wait for to show up at an illegal film website lol. If the police came to your door & said "you're under arrest!" what would it be for? The police in this country are the Devil and will arrest and kill anybody. That said, I can be attacked in my own home, arrested for absolutely nothing, and they will get away with it. Are you good at giving massages? Nope. What movie do you know just about every line from? Your basic white girl movies – Titanic, The Proposal, White Chicks. Oh and also my favorite Two for the Road, of course. Do you prefer cupcakes or muffins? Cupcakes. If I absolutely have to eat a muffin it has to be chocolate, otherwise I’m not touching it. I’m all about the sweet. What are the three "nevers" of your life? Doing hard drugs, drunk driving, eating fruits. What lifts your spirits when life gets you down? Good food, good movies, good friends. My dog. Is sometimes being silent more effective than having to say things? Yes. Do you smile a lot or not enough? I think I do it enough.

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (3)

A/N: MEET THE ROMANS !!!!  i actually drew All the romans, but you only meet the first one in this chapter! gonna upload his pic in a Hot Sec but, anyway, i love him and i love you! <3 this entire story turned real big

WARNINGS: Sympathetic Deceit, arguing, yelling, panic (no panic attacks but Virgil is incredibly on edge, as is everyone), heights/possibly falling two floors off a tall ladder — if i missed anything, please please let me know!!  also, OCs? ?  gonna talk more about that in the Tags but let me know!

Words: 2916

Pairings: why do i keep adding this? idk. nothing yet! I guess you can read patton being Platonically Flirtatious™ to Logan but?  DLAMP endgame, but i guess you can call this a slow burn because i forgot how much i write on the regular

Part 1 (chivalry is dead) — Part 2 (i’m wishing) — Part 3 (the bells of notre dame) — Part 4 (honor to us all)

AO3 link!

@starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda @askthesnake @k9cat

enjoy!!

The room had changed, yes, but it hadn’t gone back to being Roman’s bedroom.

In fact, the room appeared more like a long walk-in closet. Deceit closed the door a little and looked at the front again — yep, the sign was still there, this was still Roman’s room. He let the door swing all the way open in a silent invitation to the other Sides to peek in. Logan was the first to join him in the doorway, standing right besides Deceit, only a few inches away from the threshold.

From the doorway, they couldn’t see the end of the narrow hall. Both walls were packed with clothes pressed against each other, like some sort of unreasonably long walk-in closet. There was a second shelf of clothes above that, just as packed. In the hallway’s center were some benches, of varying aesthetics. The one closest to the door was plush, with seating on both sides and red cushions, but the one next to it and farther in looked like a football stadium bleacher. Strewn about, too, were many, many shoes. Not all in pairs.

Deceit leaned his head into the room and, with one hand on his hat, looked up. The ceiling continued forever as well, with even more shelves of clothing stretching up as far as the eye could see.

“This is certainly a change,” Logan commented, a slight tremor in his voice, “Though it’s a far cry from the black abyss you’d claimed to see.”

“What’s it look like?” Virgil shuffled behind them both, the tensions of earlier now replaced with a stifling dread.

Deceit glanced back at him, just to check. Old habits die hard. He was holding Patton’s arm tight, breathing nearly nonexistent, off-hand twitching every so often. Virgil’s hair was matted down, too, as he and Patton examined the room. The concern was leaking into Patton, as his hand seemed just as tight on Virgil’s. He pushed up his glasses without taking his eyes off of the room, and Deceit could see some tears sparkling behind the lenses. Virgil’s mounting panic plus Patton’s deep concern was creating an intoxicating brew of ‘we should get on with this.’

Deceit turned to Logan and nodded to the room. They’d have to go in to find Roman.

There was nothing else to be done. Logan lifted a foot.

“Don’t go in there,” Virgil said, nearly shouted.

“Well, we must, if we’re—”

“Hang on, hang on, first,” Patton leaned forward, nudging his face between Logan and Deceit while keeping his feet firmly planted behind them as Virgil tugged him closer. He cupped his other hand around his mouth. “ROMAN? HELLO?”

Silence was his answer. Not even an echo. Patton’s nose scrunched up. He pulled back, wrapping an arm subconsciously around Virgil. “That usually works,” his words laced together quietly.

Logan shot him a quick confused glance. Internally, he was considering the possibilities at a breakneck pace. Roman’s room was the most volatile, susceptible to constant change depending on how the creative side felt and what his most recent project was. It made sense that the room wouldn’t look exactly how it did the last time they’d seen it, especially given how long it’d been since the door had last been opened.

Something was still unusual, however. Even though its theming was impermanent, there were certain constants: a bed, a wardrobe or closet, a desk, often a window or two, Roman’s fairy lights, some posters. Even when period themed, Roman kept a laptop on his desk and a speaker besides his bed. Now there wasn’t even a bed. There were just rows and rows of clothes, some unwearable for daily use. Logan could definitely see a hoop skirt over there on the left. And….was that a full military uniform? Why would Roman need outfits such as those?

“A costume room!” Patton exclaimed, causing everyone else to jump.

Virgil calmed himself down first. “Can’t you give a guy a warning before your lightbulb moments, Pat?” he stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets, glowering at Patton.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Patton rubbed the back of his neck and smiled thinly back, “I just thought, this whole set up….it looks a lot like a big ole’ dressing room, doesn’t it? With the costumes and the benches?”

The other three glanced back around the room. “I suppose you’re right,” Logan said, drawing out his words.

Before another silence overtook, though, he cleared his throat and straightened his tie. “I don’t think we’ll learn any more about Roman’s sudden room change without going in,” his voice was stiff, trying to hide whatever nervousness he felt.

“I don’t know. I don’t like this,” Virgil grumbled, eyes locked on the darkness at the end of the hallway.

It was dimly lit but not difficult to see in. They could definitely search around in here, but there wasn’t a boundary between the Imagination and Roman’s room. For all they knew, they could be walking straight through the Imagination, which would be chaotic. They couldn’t control it like Roman could. Sure, Virgil’d made a fair nightmare or dark daydream, but it always got out of hand or was overseen by Roman himself, usually inspirational fodder for some bigger project he was cooking.

Actually, now that he thought about it, Virgil didn’t think he’d ever been in the Imagination without Roman. He hadn’t heard of any of the others entering Roman’s “kingdom” without him and, honestly, he wasn’t keen on finding out what’d happen if they didn’t have a guide.

Oof.

“Are you going to stop glaring at the hallway any time soon?” Deceit’s voice pulled Virgil from his thoughts and another spiral.

Before he could retort, Logan stepped back from the room to face him. “I hate to admit it, but he’s right. We should enter and find Roman ourselves,” he crossed his arms as he explained. “This room doesn’t bear resemblance to any sort of bedroom and, if Patton’s assumption that this is a costume room is correct, then we must ask why Roman’s chosen to, er. Switch things up. There are different interpretations we could derive but it’s better to hear it from him, as well as pull him out of his room for a meal and check-in.”

“And if he gets mad that we barged in on his personal space and doesn’t want to see us again?” Virgil asked, crossing his arms to mirror Logan’s stance.

“Then we acknowledge that Deceit lied, and we ask why he hasn’t left his room in a week. I find the second part of your statement highly improbable as well. Considering our concern and confusion over Roman’s absence, I think we are well-warranted in entering without permission.”

“Wow, check out Logan, finally coming to his senses about the constructive nature of personal space,” Deceit followed Logan away from the doorway, a sneer on his lips.

Logan and Virgil now both glared at Deceit. “Me agreeing that I’m confused by Roman’s sudden departure doesn’t mean I agree with your explanation that he fell into a hole — a hole that is no longer there, mind you.”

“And we can probably find Roman without you stinking up the place,” Virgil waved his hands at Deceit, gesturing for him back up, “How about you drag yourself back to whatever hole you crawled out of, and—”

“Guys! I found my old cardigan in here!”

All three of them looked up, noticing that Patton was a fair way into the room, and all of them tensed. As much as Deceit and Logan were talking a big game about entering the room, it seemed they were just as nervous as Virgil was.

Patton didn’t react to their concern, perusing the costumes lining the left side of the wall. In his defense, Patton already knew they were gonna have to search for Roman in here. He didn’t distrust Deceit more than he was worried about Roman isolating himself, and the collection of costumes was a lot more interesting to him than debating the morality — he snorted to himself — of the situation. Besides, Virgil’d get the hint that the morals of going in were fine if Patton and Deceit were agreeing.

Now, the cardigan was the same as his. Patton would have thought Roman’d just taken it if he hadn’t felt assured that his cardigan was in his closet, in his room. Plus, THIS cardigan didn’t have a dollar in the pocket! Or, wait, he’d given that dollar back to Roman, since he owed him. Okay, well, he was still pretty certain that HIS cardigan was back in HIS room!

“You shouldn’t be touching Roman’s clothes, Patton,” Logan had entered the room.

Patton didn’t look up, though he could tell by Logan’s voice that he was standing just behind him. “Awh, but there’re so many outfits! Who knew Roman had so many!”

Something blue caught his eye. Patton reached for a hanger just a few spaces down from the cardigan and pulled out Logan’s old outfit, with the black polo shirt and periwinkle tie. “Hey, look! It’s you!” He grinned at Logan, laughing at Logan’s cute little surprised expression, “Talk about a blast from the past!”

Logan took the hanger, lifting it up to inspect. It was just the shirt and tie, but….well. He felt a twinge of nostalgia. “I do prefer my current tie,” he said.

“An’ I think you look great in anything,” Patton nudged him with his elbow, “Just thought you’d wanna see! Looks like Roman’s stocked up on all our old outfits.”

“C’mon, guys, we shouldn’t be in here,” Patton and Logan turned and saw Virgil slowly follow Deceit past the threshold, steps slow and careful, as if the ground were going to fall into the pit Deceit’d described.

Once Virgil was two steps in, though, the door slammed shut behind him. He whipped around, screaming in surprise and launching himself backwards into Deceit, who then shouted and fell forward onto the red couch.

Patton screamed, too, and flung himself into Logan, who actually caught him. His arms wrapped around Patton’s shoulders as he hoisted him up.

They all watched as the door sank beneath the deep red carpet, standing still as statues as it slid down and left a blank white-wallpapered wall.

Trapped.

Logan let go of Patton slowly, arms dropping to his sides. He could feel a headache coming on. Patton unraveled himself from Logan, too, stepping more towards Deceit and Virgil as the shock wore off. Deceit nearly flung Virgil off of himself, probably would have succeeded if Virgil hadn’t jumped off of him first.

The shock of what had happened was definitely wearing down on Virgil, hands shaking at his sides. Patton placed a hand on his shoulder — an offer — and Virgil took it, hugging Patton tight, burying his face into his chest. Patton wrapped his arms around Virgil too, just as tight. “Sorry,” Patton looked up, mouthing to Deceit.

Deceit seemed nonplussed, though, as he stared down the hallway. Logan’s body was turned towards them, seemingly halfway through approaching, though he too faced down the hall.

“Do you hear….” Logan’s voice, a hushed whisper, “Singing.”

Patton frowned, but carded his hand through Virgil’s hair and listened harder.

“You can lie to yourself and your minions,” that voice was unmistakable, verse echoing faintly from down the impossibly long hall.

Virgil gripped the back of Patton’s shirt and perked his head up as the voice grew slightly louder.

“Roman,” Deceit’s shoulders relaxed, “That must be Roman.”

In a non-spoken group decision, the four began to slowly walk down the hall. Deceit led the way past the hanging costumes, each closet packed with outfits, and didn’t stop. Virgil was at the back, still holding onto Patton’s shirt, checking behind them every so often.

Things were even more disorganized as they continued down the hall. Costumes were on the ground, as though fallen from their hangers. Patton’d stopped to fix the first few, but as they saw more and more dishevelment, he gave up. The shoes were strewn about still, some on benches now, some with full costumes sitting on the bench besides them.

“You can claim that you haven’t a qualm!”

There were some outfits that they recognized. Thomas’ Dr. Emile Picani costume was sitting on a bench, laid out neatly, as though they’d be shooting Cartoon Therapy the next day. His trenchcoat from playing JD was crumpled in a lump with a single thick boot next to it, from the same outfit. Deceit pointed out a balled up copy of Virgil’s current hoodie, sat in the middle of their walkway.

“He must be in a block. Making all these costumes must’a been a real good creative exercise,” Patton tried to keep his voice light and airy.

Virgil shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a block. It reeks of manic panic in here,” he scowled around, “We gotta figure out what’s wrong with him.”

“But you never can run from,” Roman’s singing continued, growing louder, closer.

“Of course. Before he disappeared, would you consider that Roman was acting odd? I thought his demeanor was fairly typical for a creative block, hence it wasn’t incredibly worrying,” Logan hummed in thought, then added, “He had been a little more subdued. But, that too could be attributed to the lull in productive creative content plus the incoming tax season.”

“I mean, locking himself in his room was pretty in character,” Virgil said, “But….”

“Was leaving him in his room in character for you all?” Deceit looked back just long enough to catch the glare Virgil shot him, “It’s a fair question, after all this.”

“....How do we know you’re not just leading us into a trap here?” Virgil hissed, without the bite he’d had earlier.

“For the last time, I’m not tricking you. Even you can feel how scared Roman is, you said it yourself,” Deceit stopped, letting Logan walk past him as he argued with Virgil.

“Yeah, but—”

“Nor hide what you’ve done from the eyes~!”

Logan held up a hand, stopping all of them. “I can see the end of the hall,” he said.

“And there’s Roman!” Patton let go of Virgil, letting the anxious side finally unravel himself from Patton’s chest while he moved besides Logan.

Instead of a bench, there was a large table in the center of the hallway, papers strewn over it in piles and disorganized stacks. On the opposite walkway side from the other four sides was a ladder and, up two levels of closet, was Roman. He had a stack of costumes in his arms, hanging them up one by one, voice echoing downwards.

“The very eyes of Notre Dame!” he leaned backwards on the ladder, spurring Virgil to swear loudly, jump towards it, and hold it steadier.

Roman didn’t notice them, though, continuing to sing and hang clothes. Patton, Logan, and Deceit all shared a look while Virgil just looked up at Roman and held the ladder. At least they’d get some answers now.

Logan cleared his throat first. “Roman!”

No response. Roman just continued to sing. “And for one time in his life of power and control,” he waved one of the costumes — a black cloak with blue trims — and spun on the top of the ladder.

“Stop spinning,” Virgil barked, holding the ladder with white knuckles.

The others crowded around the bottom, Patton now holding the other two legs. “Let’s try a little kindness — Roman, kiddo, can you come down here?” his voice was soft, inviting and loving, gazing up the ladder.

“Frollo felt a twinge of fear!”

“Well,” Patton looked back down at the other Sides, “I’m shattered.”

Deceit rolled his eyes as Logan sighed, “He’s ignoring us.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“For his immortal sou~l!”

“Roman—Roman, stop,” Deceit shook the ladder, trying to not throw Roman’s balance off, “What’s happening?”

“Yeah,” Virgil shouted, shooting Deceit a deadly glare quickly, “Get down here and stop singing! You’ve got a lotta explaining to do!”

Roman didn’t turn around, but he stopped dancing, singing, and shifting the ladder. “You’re all interrupting the audition,” he snapped as he hung the last costume and began to descend.

As he came closer, the other four could see the differences in his outfit. Gone was the white uniform and red sash, replaced with a white shirt and a tight red vest. Though they could only see his back, the others could see a scroll decal across his shoulders, similar to the one on Roman’s crest. This was certainly a change.

“Roman,” Virgil started, voice quiet, leading to more, but Roman cut him off.

“Stop calling me that. Haven’t won the callback yet,” and he laughed to himself, landing and pivoting at the bottom of the ladder.

The vest buttoned double-breasted in the front, and a bright red tie was tucked into the vest, which had golden lapels. The others watched him push his own pair of black-rimmed Warby Parker glasses up his nose, hair pinned back from its normal waves with one glittering gold pin. A golden pen was tucked behind the ear his hair was, too. On the bottom, he wore black pants and a black dress shoes with whitened Oxfords.

He took notice of their confused looks and bowed with a flourish and a large, proud smile. “As you can all see, I’m definitely not the Prince, and am not Roman YET. For the time being, you may call me the Playwright.”

[notbang]

funny when you wager how you feel

nathaniel & heather, during 4x17. inspired by heather’s affiliations in the 4x16 betting pool. also on ao3.

“Dude, I was rooting for you. You owe me five hundred dollars.”

“Excuse me?”

He wants to ask how she even know where he lives, but Heather pushes right on past him into the apartment, not bothering to acknowledge the question or wait for a formal invitation.  She makes it over to his bookcase before she spins on her heel to look at him.

“The betting pool? The dates? I emptied both of my piggy banks for you. That was my hot tub savings. You basically owe me a hot tub.”

As she stops to properly survey her surroundings for the first time, Nathaniel feels an embarrassed flush prickle up the back of his neck at the state of his living room. Since Rebecca left he hasn’t exactly been expecting company, but things aren’t anywhere near up to his usually impeccable personal standards, either.

“Wo-ow. So, I can’t believe this is your apartment. Aren’t you supposed to be, like, a fancy senior partner at a law firm, or something? And this is how you live? Is this what you think of yourself?”

He rolls his eyes, swinging the door shut when it becomes apparent she isn’t planning on leaving any time soon. “Ha ha. I suppose I deserve that.”

“It’s just that, I don’t know—people that respect themselves usually don’t usually throw their fast food wrappers on the ground when they’re done with them. Or, like, when they’ve had a single mouthful and remembered they don’t eat bread or cheese,” she amends, nudging the abandoned burger gingerly with her toe. When she glances back up at him her face softens unexpectedly into a sympathetic grimace. “You’re like, really bummed, huh? I’ve seen you throw fries on the floor once before.”

He hand waves the disaster zone. “I started to deal with my very messy, human, Rebecca-related emotions the only way I usually know how. And then I decided I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“Okay,” Heather says, humming, eyes narrowed in playful suspicion. “Then what are you gonna do? Because not to be insensitive, but there may or may not still be stakes riding on the fallout of this whole giant mess, and I’d really rather not wait around until you’re sixty five to find out.”

“Huh?”

“Ugh, don’t worry about it,” she’s quick to dismiss with a long-suffering sigh. “I don’t want to get forced into a forfeit for interference. But for what it’s worth, I lived with Rebecca for two years. I’m not sure I understand the hype, personally. She never empties the dishwasher and she flushes her tampons. I think you dodged a bullet.”

She throws herself down on the couch so forcefully she bounces with the momentum of it, leaning deep into the cushions as if to test them and stretching her long, muscular arms out across the backrest.

“By all means,” Nathaniel says. “Make yourself at home.”

“Oh, I will.” She swings her feet up onto the coffee table, glancing pointedly at the pizza box they’re resting on when he opens his mouth to protest. “Seriously though. Are you okay? I feel like maybe I should ask if you’re okay, since you’re like this brand new person with all these emotions and stuff.”

“Honestly?” he asks, and she gestures in the affirmative. “I don’t know. I’m not really sleeping well. I can’t focus on my work. I thought it was all the indecision, and that it would go away once I got an answer, but…” He massages his forehead. “I don’t think it’s because of Rebecca. At least, not entirely. I don’t know how else to describe it other than I feel… restless.”

“Maybe you should get out of town while this whole thing blows over and people go back to minding their own business. Book a vacation, or something. It kind of seemed like you were always trying to run off to Rome or Hawaii or wherever else it is they have hotels I can’t afford to, like, breathe the lobby air of.”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t actually want to go to Rome, or Hawaii. I’ve seen all those places before. I just wanted to be with Rebecca—I wanted to spend time with her.”

“Okay, well, that admittedly very sweet option is sort of off the table now, but there must be someplace you would like to go, or that you haven’t been.” Her eyes widen and her mouth forms an ‘o’ shape that he thinks must be her version of excited. “Do you want to throw darts at a map of the world? I totally have darts.”

Almost as quickly as her interest flared, her attention is back on his bookcase again, and Nathaniel sighs as she pushes up onto her knees, the eyelets of her boots scraping the leather as she leans across the arm rest to reach for a spine that’s caught her eye. She flips disinterestedly through one of his law books before discarding it beside her and replacing it with an expensive pictorial on Cuban architecture.

“When White Josh broke up with Darryl he went to Mexico to, like, hammer out all his feelings,” she says, smoothing out the dust jacket. “And then he came back with a dog. Maybe you should do the same.”

“Well, I do hablo español,” he concedes.

Heather raises her eyebrows. “Enhorabeuna. I also attended high school. Most of the time.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m… reasonably fluent, actually. A little rusty, probably, but more than enough to get by.”

“Well, that’s a start. And since you clearly don’t have much experience with flights of fancy, I’m going to let you in on a little secret: Google.”

“Google?” he echoes, dubious. “I’m not convinced that’s a secret.”

“I’m serious. You gotta start Googling.”

“Googling what, exactly?”

“Whatever pops into your head. Like, after I watched The Hunger Games, I thought about J-Law looking all fine in her post-apocalyptic outfit, or whatever, and I said to myself—I could work a bow. So I opened my laptop and Googled ‘how do I become a champion level bowman in the short period of time before the Ren Faire arrives?’ which led me to discovering the archery unit at my community college, and here we are. It’s kind of like rapid-fire association, but you have to fully commit to going down the rabbit hole. And then you just keep clicking, and searching, and researching things obsessively until suddenly it’s three days later and you have seventy two tabs open and a new Pinterest account because you forgot the password to the last one. It’s Wilbur,” she adds. “The password is always Wilbur.”

“Sounds chaotic,” Nathaniel quips.

“It is, but it’s also very therapeutic.” Heather stretches, catlike, and pushes back up onto her feet. “I want to give you some secondhand advice here, but I don’t want to mention the name of the person it originally came from, because your face is going to start doing the drippy thing again, so I’m just gonna call them… Hebecca.”

Nathaniel raises his eyebrows. “Darryl’s daughter gave you advice?” he asks dryly. “Wow. I wasn’t aware she was forming sentences yet.”

“Uh-huh—she’s super advanced for a baby, and I’m giving my womb all the credit for her infinite wisdom.” She pats her stomach, and he can’t help it—he huffs out a laugh as she carries on. “When Paula was feeling dissatisfied with how things were going down at her fancy new job, Hebecca told her she should ask for more. That she should bet on herself.” Heather’s mouth twists. “You should bet on yourself.”

“I did bet on myself,” he points out. “Both of us did, remember? And we both lost. Hundreds of dollars. Thousands, even.”

She tilts her head at him. “Okay, so I’ll admit that probably wasn’t the best phrasing to use, in retrospect. But I don’t mean, like, literally bet on yourself. I mean, you have to decide you deserve the things you want. But not in a gross, rich, white privilege way—in a way that means you have look inside yourself and make some tough decisions about what you want your life to look like, whether certain people are in it or not. You can’t control what choices other people make. But you’re the one that has to live with yours.”

He glances over at the couch she just vacated, where Rebecca had sat across from him only yesterday, quietly apologetic but simultaneously so self-assured. He remembers the way he’d felt at peace with it before she’d even started speaking. How strangely calming it had been, seeing her settled and suddenly sure of herself, in the midst of all this pervasive indecision.

“That is… a solid assessment, actually. You only get one life, right?”

“For the record, I charge by the half hour and accept payment in the form of hot tubs.” Heather considers him for a moment longer, then crosses her arms over her chest. “Do you want to get out of here? I could take you for a spin in my new Honda Civic. You’re basically its honorary godparent, or something.”

“Like a date?” he asks wearily.

“Ugh, dude—gross, no. I’m married,” she says, flashing her ring finger at him. “You were there.”

He rolls his eyes. “I was being facetious. But no thanks—I’m good. I need to clean up in here. Open some windows.”

“That,” Heather says, eyes sweeping the room, “is probably a wise decision, because it smells like the Home Base back room in here and not in a good way.”

“Is there a good way?”

“Well, yeah. I’m surprisingly still partial to when they’re cooking chilli fries.” She leans over, extending her arms in their entirety and keeping her body as far away from his as possible while allowing her palms to rest on his shoulders. “You are valid, kiddo,” she says, squeezing him awkwardly and thumbing his nose in a way that makes him scrunch up his whole face and flinch. “For things other than your bank account and strong jawline. Just in case nobody’s ever told you that. But also, I will be expecting reimbursement for your romantic shortcomings, so the bank account is a definite plus.”

Once Heather is gone he thinks about the person that never told him that in so many words but certainly made him feel it, and after flicking it open and closed a few times he shuts the ring box, rubs his thumb along the velvety seam one last time and pushes it away.

He pauses with his fingers over the keys, then hesitantly types in animals AND law AND spanish into the text box; just because he’s being self-indulgent doesn’t mean he has to completely abandon Boolean operators.

The returns are fairly broad so after a moment's consideration he amends the search to zoo AND law AND spanish speaking countries.

He hovers the cursor over the link to the San Diego Zoo’s donation page before his gaze catches a couple of results down on a site for zoology and wildlife internships, and suddenly, for the first time in awhile, finally something clicks.

[lunellafandoms]

Olicity Secret Santa Gift

for @leuska from @lunellafandoms . Hey leuska! I'm so excited to be starting this little gift for you! At the moment, it doesn’t fit too much of your prompts, but trust me, it’ll get there ;)

Christmas Doll Part 1/3

Words: 977

Premise: Holiday shopping turns bitter for Felicity Smoak as an old foe of Oliver’s resurfaces

Felicity wrapped her coat around her, hugging it to her waist as she crossed the downtown streets of Star City. The winter air was bitter enough that she even had to take out her ponytail to warm her cheeks.

There was something comforting about the atmosphere. Holiday lights strung from tree to tree, bits of salt and melted snow on the brick plaza ground. It almost made her feel normal, as though her husband wasn’t an unmasked vigilante. Passing a couple gathered on a bench, Felicity made her way into the coffee shop to retrieve something warm. As she stepped up to the line, her pocket began to buzz, insinuating that someone was calling her.

“Felicity?” a barista called out, placing her drink on the counter

Bringing the phone up to her ear, Felicity grabbed the drink, stepping away from the counter and to the corner of the room. “Hello?”

“Felicity, I’m gonna need some of your magic right about now”

“Oliver, I’m in the middle of the shopping center right now, what do you want?” Felicity sighed into her phone, looking around warily for anyone eavesdropping on her conversation.

“We are in the pursuit of a dangerous meta-human. Do you have a computer near you?” he asked.

“Do you have a computer near you? You work for the police, doesn’t the precinct have people who do this… professionally?”

Oliver paused. “Well, yes, but the system takes hours to get official documents, and I need something…”

“More illegal?”

“Faster.”

She cracked a smile, readjusting the bags on her wrist. “oh, my dear, you are so lucky I love you.” Felicity pressed the phone against her chest, rushing to the nearest table, home to a studying college student. “Hi, ‘scuse me,” she said, waiting until the confused brunette looked up from his laptop. “Can I use this? Thanks.”

Felicity rotated the computer around, sitting across from the dazed man. She brought her phone back up to her ear, resting it between her shoulder and cheek.

“Alright, I'm ready, lay it on me,” she announced into the phone, vigorously typing at the keys.

“We’re looking for a meta-human who goes o a murderous rampage only during solstices and equinoxes, I need you to pull up any correlation between-”

“Yeah, yeah got it. Might take a while to process, this guy’s computer is slow as hell,” Felicity said, glancing at the person opposite to her, whose mouth was still agape.

“Hey- why are you shopping? I thought you weren’t celebrating Christmas?” Oliver asked on the other line to fill the time.

“Well, considering William is coming home, I thought it was about time I conform to the common tradition of gift giving.”

“Yeah… about that,” the hesitation in his voice said it all. Felicity groaned. “The dean called, the school is snowed in, and even if they get out, it's more than likely that the flight will be delayed anyway.”

“Aww, but I already bought him a portable spectrogram with infrared frequencies as an additive,” she whined

“A what?”

“Got it! You're looking for Rodrigo Danielson, current address is 583 South Holly Street, but his last credit card purchase was less than half an hour ago at the gas station on Washington and 23rd.”

“On it.  See you tonight.”

“Oh, about that,” Felicity exited the system on the laptop, turning it back around and dropping a 20 dollar bill with it. “Don’t bother getting dinner.”

“Why?”

“I’m making a turkey.”

“Felicity…” his irresolute tone suggested she mustn’t have told him.

“What? Its completely safe, I did have to learn to cook while you were gone. Otherwise, William would have eaten only Lunchables and Kraft mac & cheese. Don't worry, I even ordered it off of one of those catering websites- well technically not catering since you make it yourself, but it comes with instructions and ingredients. I got a good deal on-”

“Felicity, honey, I’d love to chat more about this, but I'm kind of busy and you're making it a bit difficult to focus.”

“Oh, right, sorry. Bye, love you… be safe!” she wasn’t even nervous, yet her sentence fragments prevailed.

Felicity pressed the end call button, rising from her seat and stepping out of the cafe. 7:13. She had 45 minutes before dinner needed to come out of the oven. She walked along the sidewalk, watching as others enjoyed their outing. It was around time for her to put an end on the shopping spree. Most of the stuff was for herself anyways. It didn’t pay to have a vigilante husband, and not a lot of places were too keen on hiring the ex-mayor’s wife.

She looked over to the crowd surrounded in front of a television store. Watching the breaking news, its title being ‘Star City Killer on the loose’. No doubt about the meta-human the police were currently in pursuit of.

Felicity kept walking. She placed her phone into the pocket of her coat, replacing it with her car keys. The bustle of people began to fade as she stepped into the parking lot under a skyscraper. She found herself relaxed by the peace and quiet, only interrupted by the sound of her heels on the concrete. After unlocking the door to her car, Felicity opened the back door to place her bags. She struggled to slide them off her wrists.

The hair on the back of her neck started to tingle, but before she could decipher her senses, her mouth was covered by a cloth. Her attacker held her shoulders firmly, pressing the sweet-smelling substance into her nose. Felicity struggled to get away. Kicking at his shins, stomping at his feet. Her vision began to blur as the chloroform kicked in, and hopelessly, Felicity drifted into the darkness of her assailant, his greasy blond hair hovering above her slumped body as his fingers stroked her cheek

To be continued…

[thethespacecoyote]

“Passion, Postponed”

Rhys looked up, blindly fidgeting with his phone as he scanned the menu pasted to the side of the truck’s concession window. It sold mostly burgers and fries and usually Rhys opted for the dressed salad and patty nudged in the customary paper basket, but today….

Today that double cheeseburger with grilled onions and bacon lardons looked pretty damn good. And fries, while he was at it! Covered in cheese and more bacon.

His phone buzzed, snapping his attention from the menu and his food lust and back down to his phone. He narrowed his eyes at Jack’s message, sticking his lip out.

p good probs still gonna b late tonight tho.

Rhys heart fell, though he wasn’t sure what he expected. As the day went on and on, it grew less likely that Jack was going to surprise and spoil him with some lavish Valentine’s Day plans.

Just some Vday fluff! Modern AU where Rhys thinks Jack forgot what day it is, but he might not be totally correct... ;)

Jack was usually the one who made plans.

Dinners, hotels, flights—anything that needed a preemptive credit card payment. He knew enough about Rhys to make sure the kid’s tastes were always taken into question when he made arrangements, but he was still usually the one who had final say and, most importantly, put down the money.

So Rhys didn’t even bother making Valentine’s Day plans himself, figuring that Jack would take care of everything as he usually did. When he woke up on the morning itself, he found the bed empty and, with an eager little smile on his face, trundled down the stairs, expecting to find their entire kitchen flooded in decorations with the smell of french toast cooking on the stove—but instead he found nothing but the normal kitchen and the normal table and the normal breakfast of cereal and the normal Jack with his hair just barely mussed into place and his tie hanging still loose around his unbuttoned collar.

“G’morning, babe,” Jack waved to him idly as he leaned his hip against the counter, listening to the bubble of the coffee maker. Rhys shot him a slight smile, expecting Jack to say a little more, but he didn’t, instead turning away when the bubbling pot dinged. He grabbed his bright yellow mug from the cabinet and poured the coffee, blowing it a few times before drinking it black.

Rhys skirted around the kitchen, words dancing on the tip of his tongue as he watched Jack’s back. A quick scan of the counters and table found no sign of presents or cards or anything one might expect from their loved one on Valentine’s day. Rhys creased his brows in suspicion, wondering if he should be the first to break the silence on the holiday, but what if his presents were out in the living room? Jack was a reluctant morning person, always needing his coffee before he could pull together his humanity and drive to tackle the day—maybe Rhys’ gifts were out in the living room, and as soon as Jack was done having his coffee, he’d take him there.  

So he kept mostly quiet, pouring his cereal and eating it as he leaned up against the counter, watching Jack as he sipped down the rest of his coffee before upending the mug in the sink. Rhys smiled as Jack turned towards him, quickly swallowing the cereal in his mouth and setting the bowl on the counter—this was it.

Jack took his hands, grinned, and said—

“Do you know where my keys are, Rhysie?”

Rhys blinked, lips parting in confusion.

“I—ah, they’re by the plants” Rhys gestured dumbly behind him. Jack winked, sliding over to grab the keys from beside the little glass terrariums clustered by the sink (to best ensure watering.) Disappointment flooded through Rhys as Jack pocketed the keys, though he managed to recover his smile as Jack leaned back over and rubbed their noses together.    

“Love you, babe. I’ll see you after work, ‘kay?”

“Yeah?” Rhys brightened as Jack shrugged on his blazer, buttoning it over his stomach.

“Yeah. Might be a little late cause I got a meeting at like four, though. And you know how traffic is.”

“Oh.”  Rhys’ smile faltered. “Okay.”

Jack even kissed him goodbye like it was a normal day. No extra tongue or butt-grabbing or anything to show off Jack knew it was a special occasion, just a regular old peck on the lips. Rhys tried to keep his disappointment at bay as he waved Jack off, watching through the front windows as Jack’s car pulled down and out of the driveway, glossy finish reflecting the overcast sky as he drove off down the street and out of sight.

Rhys counted to five—watching and waiting to see if maybe Jack would figure it out, break to a halt and come barreling back with apologies and flowers and a pint of Rhys’ favorite ice cream. Or maybe the doorbell would ring and he’d be showered in flowers and a crisp invitation beckoning him to reservations at his favorite restaurant.

He waited a minute, two minutes. Three. Five. His only reward was more silence and the distant honking of a car alarm.

Rhys sighed, sticking out his lower lip as he it grew less and less likely that Jack was going to give him a morning surprise. He kept his attention on his phone, waiting on an apologetic text as he tossed out the now soggy cereal and went to grab some coffee, happy to find his boyfriend had at least had the foresight to brew a full pot of coffee and not drink at all.

Jeez. He was so lucky.

Rhys’ lunch hour offered another cup of coffee and a trip down to the food trucks that clustered in the plaza behind the Atlas building. He slipped his phone out of his pocket as he walked out into the sun, the smell of cooking meat and sizzling cheese filling his nose as he open up his text message. His stomach plummeted as he saw nothing from Jack—no “oh crap, I’m sorry I forgot Valentine’s Day Rhys, please forgive me!” or even any kind of cryptic message that might lead Rhys down the rabbit hole of hope to at least stave off the crawling disappointment for the rest of the day and actually allow him to get some work on instead of dwelling on the fact that his boyfriend was a huge jerk and seriously how could Jack forget Valentine’s Day?

Rhys huffed, his laptop bag bouncing uncomfortably against his hip as he got into line for his favorite truck, hoping he could distract himself with food. His fingers danced over his phone screen as he shuffled behind a businessman talking loudly on his bluetooth, skating out a couple of messages only to delete them seconds later.

He finally bit the bullet and tapped something out, hitting send as his heart leapt.

Hows work going?

He looked up, blindly fidgeting with his phone as he scanned the menu pasted to the side of the truck’s concession window. It sold mostly burgers and fries and usually Rhys opted for the dressed salad and patty nudged in the customary paper basket, but today….

Today that double cheeseburger with grilled onions and bacon lardons looked pretty damn good. And fries, while he was at it! Covered in cheese and more bacon.

His phone buzzed, snapping his attention from the menu and his food lust and back down to his phone. He narrowed his eyes at Jack’s message, sticking his lip out.

p good probs still gonna b late tonight tho.

Rhys heart fell, though he wasn’t sure what he expected. As the day went on and on, it grew less likely that Jack was going to surprise and spoil him with some lavish Valentine’s Day plans.

Oh ok. See you later.

Rhys sighed and put his phone back into his pocket, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

He could really use that burger.

Rhys pushed himself into work as soon as he finished his lunch break, trying to bury himself in numbers and code to forget about how pissed he was at his boyfriend. Unfortunately, the burger wasn’t sitting particularly well with him, his stomach gurgling and twisting and forcing him to go to the bathroom an embarrassing amount of times.

Rhys couldn’t very well blame his indigestion on Jack, but he was going to do it anyway.

He actually ended up getting off early—whether it was because he’d actually finished enough work, or if his boss had noticed his sullen mood and traitorous stomach—which would’ve been great on a normal day, or if he had plans to night, but considering he had nothing going on but bad feelings he really didn’t want to go home just to sit and wait around and watch television as he waited for Jack to finally get back from his job.

He glumly dragged himself to his car, stomach still turning from the remains of the burger as he slid into the driver’s seat. He checked his phone anyway, even though he hadn’t felt it buzz since Jack had messaged him back during lunch.

Of course, there was nothing. Rhys hissed, tossing his phone into the passenger’s seat as he started up the car.

The endless stop-start of fledgling rush hour traffic hammered further into his annoyance. Any patience he had left was stretched to its breaking point, and when the car in front of him stopped abruptly short and nearly sent his car sailing into its bumper he finally snapped, slapping the steering wheel in frustration and shouting so loud the reverb from his car doors left his ears ringing.

Finally, finally he peeled off the freeway and sailed into his neighborhood, any of his typical cursory respect for the suburban speed limit replaced by his need to be home and properly stewing in a nest of blankets and ice cream. Maybe he’d even break into Jack’s liquor cabinet and crack into that bottle of Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon he kept saying he was saving for a special occasion. It would really show him, and Rhys could get properly sloshed and forget about how every other couple in the neighborhood was probably already well on their way to their Valentine’s plans.

He dragged his feet up to the door, the clenching indigestion in his stomach replaced by a bitterness that soured all the way up to his chest. The porch light flicked on, even as the sun just barely started to set besides him. He wrinkled his nose, wondering just how late Jack would end up being. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for him to stay up working way past the time Rhys needed to go to bed if Hyperion so demanded his expertise.

Rhys sighed, adjusting the weight of his laptop bag against his shoulder as he opened the front door.

And then the air exploded.

Rhys squeaked as a pop resounded through his ears and he threw his hands up—terrified he’d accidentally run into a home intruder who was about to plug a bullet in his skull—only for a shower of glittery pink and red and white confetti rained down on him above. It drenched him like snow, catching in the folds of his clothes and peppering his hair as he gaped at the state of his house.

The entire foyer was draped in streamers, crisscrossing the ceiling of the entryway. The path  leading off towards the rest of his home was lined with twinkling baby pink fairy lights that guided Rhys eye, inviting him to explore the sudden festive dream that he’d suddenly been tossed into.

Glittery confetti shook from his clothes, leaving a garish trail behind him as he carefully stepped through the foyer. He took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of vanilla and strawberry the walls had been painted with. Beneath that, he could just barely detect the scent of broiling meat and steaming veggies, an odd savory smell undercutting the saccharine aroma that was choking the air inside the home.

Just when he was thinking that some crazy interior designer had broken into his house and drenched the entire thing in cloying decorations, he rounded the corner into the living room to find it in a similar state—draped in streamers, lights, heart-shaped balloons and confetti—but with Jack standing right in the center by the coffee table in a pristine white suite and pink shirt and a blood red tie that somehow still made him stand out even with the glut of similar colors stuffed all around him.

So, not a crazy person. Just Jack.

“Oh my god,” Rhys put his hands up to his face, cheeks blushing to match the decorations as he walked towards his boyfriend on numb legs, completely bowled over in surprise. Jack’s grin grew, knowing and devilish as he opened his arms wide, inviting Rhys in.

The tension in his chest now completely undone, Rhys quickly fell into his boyfriend’s embrace, burying his face against Jack’s shoulder. He inhaled deeply, rubbing his nose against the white fabric—Jack was wearing that cologne that Rhys endlessly expressed that he loved, the one that’d been discontinued, Jack explained, and thus needed to be rationed out for special occasions only.

“Easy, kid, don’t get your snot on the tux, it’s new,” Jack chuckled as he patted Rhys’ back. The young man snorted, lifting his head from Jack’s shoulders as he rubbed a hand over his nose, sniffling as he glanced at his boyfriend.  

“Sorry, I just….well, this morning, you didn’t so…I mean, I thought…”

“What? You didn’t think I really forgot, did ya?” Jack’s grin spread, eyes twinkling with mirth. “That’s so not like me.”

“I mean….I didn’t….I just….” Rhys stammered, still a little overwhelmed by the pink and red whirlwind that had stormed through their house, coupled with the fact that Jack had remembered what day it was, after all.

He shook his head, a relieved smile finally curling on his lips.

“Should have trusted you’d pull something out of your ass.”

“Out of my ass?” Jack balked, scandalized. “Rhysie, pumpkin, do you think you can just go to the store and get five pounds of confetti on Valentine’s Day? Not to mention everything else? This—“ he gestured about, “—was all planned weeks in advance.”

Rhys chuckled, turning his chin down to pick a bit of confetti off of his shirt.

“I guess you’re right…I’m a little surprised you didn’t get confetti in the shape of your face…” He squinted at the glittery little piece between his fingers. “It’s not, isn’t it?”

Jack hissed under his breath.

“Aw, damn, that would have been a great idea!” He snapped his fingers in mock frustration. “Gonna have to get those for my birthday.”

“Guess I’ll have to remember to order it custom when that time comes.” Rhys bumped his hips closer to Jack’s, lifting his arms to wrap them properly around his boyfriend’s shoulders. He swayed him softly, to the tune of the romantic music drifting from the unusually subdued stereo, as Jack’s hands rubbed along Rhys’ hips and tugged at the hem of his shirt.

“There’s a change of clothes hanging for ya in the hall closet, baby,” Jack breathed over his ear, “why don’t you go slip into that before we have dinner?”

“Jack, no—“

“Don’t worry, it’s something tasteful,” Jack snickered as he pulled away, hand lifting from Rhys’ hip to take his chin in hand, thumb tip rubbing tenderly against his lower lip, “which isn’t to say I don’t have some other surprises set up for when we make it up to the bedroom.”

Rhys shivered as Jack’s thumb darted ever so briefly between the warm break between his lips. Maybe it was the smell of braising steak that’d whet his palate, but he almost stuck his tongue out to get a taste of Jack’s finger.

Easy.

“Food first,” Rhys stated as Jack released his chin, though he still trailed his finger down the bob of Rhys’ throat, “I definitely want you to pamper me with your cooking before i have to do all the work in bed.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“I’m gonna make you eat those words, cupcake. But only after you eat everything I’ve been slaving over all afternoon.”

He patted Rhys’ back, turning and nudging him in the direction of the hall closet, where Rhys indeed found a perfectly tailored suit instead of some kind of gaudy novelty lingerie. It matched Jack’s with the exception of the bright blue shirt that made him truly stand out against the clusterfuck of Valentine’s colors that had consumed his house.

Rhys questioned the practicality of white suits considering they were about to sit down to a meal of steak no doubt slathered in one of Jack’s signature sauces, but as Rhys strode out and smiled at his boyfriend and took his hand and let him kiss him and dote on him and lead him to the perfectly set dining room table where Jack had already cracked open the Screaming Eagle and poured it out into their glasses, and as they both sit down to a meal softly lit by candlelight, Rhys finally says it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jack.”

Jack chuckled as he pulled out Rhys’ chair, kissing him on the temple as he sat down.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Rhysie.”

[greenishbucket]

Autumn Serenade

Ford, summer, and hockey. 1.8k, also on ao3.

For Day 1 of OMGCheckPlease! Women Week 2017

Here’s the thing: Ford loves playing hockey.

Her brothers had balked when she’d told them happily over Skype that she’d joined up for the local rec league, no real training but enough vague knowledge and passion to power through. She’s hardly expecting to be on the first line or anything, it’s just fun and exciting and a way to get to know people. Ford’s been involved in local theatre for as long as she can remember – and it’d been the first place she’d looked at when she moved into the area – but stage managing is her forte and it’s a lonely task, the gratitude and respect warming but the responsibilities endless.

Ford can let go in hockey. It’s no contact but there’s the same satisfaction in using careful moves to snatch the puck from the opposition as there is in watching the curtain fall on a perfect show. Only the satisfaction is several times a game rather than a few nights preceded by weeks of organisation and she has a whole team to burn with the satisfaction in time with her.

Her parents had been worried about injury but were easily comforted by the assurance she’d have a full face cage and enough ragtag gear to keep her safe (though she didn’t share how the league had probably had since forever the way it stank). Both her brothers played football well into their college days; her parents are no strangers to accepting their kids playing dangerous sports.

She’s under no misapprehensions about the level of acceptance in the league compared to her usual theatre crowd as her mother suggested, either. Ford knows how hockey is. Besides, theatre kids are so, so far from perfect and Ford’s been black and a lesbian her entire life; she’s not going to let some jackasses stop her from expanding her horizons, especially since she seems to have lucked out massively with her teammates. Lardo, as both her team captain and one of the founders of the league, is both one of the coolest, chillest and one of the most unflinchingly assertive people Ford has ever met.

Ford wouldn’t have let her parents stop her anyway. She’s an adult now, free from college and just about managing to live away from home by sharing her apartment with a squirrely PhD student and a midwife-in-training and carefully budgeting every penny. So what if she wants to portion some of the careful budgeting to the rec league fees, to going out for drinks with the girls after a game? It’s fun, it’s new, it’s giving her thighs to die for.

Here’s the other thing: so far she hasn’t actually played in a real game.

Ford signed up as part of the rec league after coming to watch their final two games before the long summer break. Rec league never really breaks –  or so Lardo and Farms both remind anyone who dare use the term ‘break’, five timetabling spreadsheet tabs open and four group chats pinging continuously on three laptops between them – but summer means people vacationing with family and wanting to be outside in the sun rather than holed up in a scruffy ice rink no matter how hockey-loving Ford knows the girls to be.

There are a couple of games for fun over the months and plenty of street hockey and people can practice as often as they like in twos or threes – plus Heaven knows Ford is busy enough with the local theatre summer production, she couldn’t resist – but their first real league game isn’t until the very end of September. Ford has it circled in red marker on the calendar in the kitchen and every morning she looks at it with a mix of burning hot excitement and sick trepidation.

Until now, Ford has always been a summer girl. Every year as school or college started the transition ached, the first few days spent forcing herself to look away from the windows and focus on work again instead of grabbing hold of the last stretches of real warmth, the sunlight golden and the leaves just beginning to turn brown. She always feels weird and mismatched pulling on her jeans and socks and fall sweaters again, the layers and weight a trap compared to her light summer dresses and skirts and shorts, the ease of simple flats or sandals. Ford loves summer. Everything feels possible and endless on a bright summer’s day stretching out into a warm summer’s night and it revitalises every part of her that gets worn down and exhausted in the decay of fall and the long, cold winter. Spring is a start but nothing gives to Ford like summer does.

This year Ford feels like summer has passed at half the speed it usually does, even now in mid-September the weather reflecting a September dragging its feet on leaving summer behind, and she’s impatient with it. The rush of playing what few games ran during the summer was a wonder but Ford can’t help but think what it could be like in a real game, in something that doesn’t count in the grand scheme of things but counts to her and her teammates in this rec league among rec leagues. She can’t help but see her experiences now as a pale imitation.

Ford is already half in love with hockey and now she wants to play it.

This year each browning leaf and pumpkin-themed Pintrest board and knitted scarf means moving closer to the rec league getting under way for the season. Fprd finds herself watching the transitions with anticipation rather than her usual sadness and the thought of her summer clothes being replaced by the weight of her gear, disgusting though the pads may be, doesn’t have the usual quasi-claustrophobic panic.

“Last day of summer today,” her brother says, eye on his own calendar as they try and figure out a time to meet up over FaceTime. “Always makes me think of you.”

Once when Ford was seven she’d cried inconsolably on the last day of summer even though the weather hadn’t been truly summery in weeks, confusing and worrying both her teacher and parents. It had just been the finality of it, the confirmation that all the opportunities of the summer really were passed. This morning she’d spotted the tiny note in the day’s square and felt a twinge of something, a sadness that it was over for another year and a weariness at the prospect of the aches and pains and boredom of winter, but nothing like when she was seven. Ford’s pretty sure she’d even been a lot more upset the year before, too, wearing summer clothes in protest even when it was cold enough that she was shivering all day.

“I know, I saw,” she says, “and like it sucks, my God fall is boring and winter sucks, but I’ve got my first hockey game tomorrow. Which is pretty cool.”

Her brother is silent for long enough that she looks over at the screen to make sure he hasn’t been cut off. He’s still there, face up close to the camera like he’s trying to get a better look at her.

“Who even are you?” he asks, phone so close all Ford can see is one eye.

“Quit it, your eye is freaking me out.”

“You’re freaking me out. What happened to ‘summer is all that matters, all other seasons are a capitalist cage, I want ice cream but I’m too cold, football can kiss my ass, all my theatre nerds are sick with flu’ blah blah whatever the fuck?”

“I never said any of that!”

“You know what I mean,” her brother finally pulls his phone back a little but the look he’s giving her is still alarmed. “You’re always complaining that summer is over until, like, April. It’s part of my routine.”

Ford shrugs. “I don't know. I guess the game is taking precedence over mourning summer. Fall is so depressing and winter is so cold I can’t go anywhere – I’m looking forward to having enough to do that I'm too tired to miss the sun but also, like, getting to actually hang out with people instead of just bossing them around.”

Her brother considers this then laughs. “Well, shit, if you say so. Maybe we should have tried to get you into hockey when you were younger if it was gonna make you this okay with seasons passing. Remember that time you cried all day? How old were you, twelve?”

“I was seven, you asshole.”

His voice goes high pitched and whiney, a horrible impression of seven-year-old Ford: “Summer’s gone and I don’t want to learn more math I want to go swimming and eat bugs and I hate school and–”

She hangs up on him. A minute later he texts a suitable time to meet up and good luck for the game tomorrow. Seconds later her other brother, probably prompted to do so, texts a reminder to keep her teeth intact if possible. Ford sends both of them back a heart, smiling and genuinely touched in spite of herself, then sets her phone aside to make dinner.

Outside, there’s rain lashing against the windows and the weather report last night had confirmed it was unlikely the weather would pick up again before temperatures started sliding for real. Ford listens to her phone buzzing while she cooks and knows it’s probably one of the girls getting chirped to hell and back in the group chat, checks neither of her flatmates have disturbed the gear bag she’s left by the door for tomorrow.

Spring and summer have always been Ford’s time, the pressure pleasantly on with shows to polish up and perform and the long days to fill, with fall and winter at a pace too slow and unfocused to be satisfying. Ford knows herself and she knows needs to be challenged and kept driven, anything else feels draining. Hockey is giving her direction, not to mention friends she so desperately needed in a new place, and Ford thinks she could love it for that alone.

Luckily, she doesn’t have to. The next night she gets a messy assist and even their team losing in the final minutes after a close three periods doesn’t soften any of the thrumming delight under her skin, doesn’t stop the helmet-taps she receives for getting an assist in her first game (her first game!) or the exclamation marks her family text in response to the news. Not even the cold wind that’s icy against her neck as she stands outside the rink and answers three separate emails on set production can ruin her mood. It's fall and she's still busy enough with things that excite her that she feels the pressure of it, feels the tiredness in her muscles. It's amazing.

Ford loves playing hockey.

Feeling charitable, she gets herself a pumpkin spice latte on the way home. It’s not quite her usual cold vanilla sweet cream, a flavour that’s like a mouthful of summer to her, but Ford thinks perhaps it’s something she could learn to like.

[sprinkleofhappinessuniverse]

Castiel The Babysitter

Prompt: “How could you forget your son’s birthday?” “Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween.” You got this babes 💕

Synopsis: After arriving in a small town for a hunt Cas, Sam and Dean meet a young woman named Ava and her little sister Lily. Castiel find himself agreeing to babysit. 

Pairing: none. 

Characters: Castiel, Dean, Sam, Ava (OFC), Lily (OFC) 

Word Count: 2655

Warnings: swearing and I suck at dialogue sorry 

A/N: so this was requested by my abosloute fave @illbeyourgentlemanstory! Sorry I took so long I swear I write like four different versions and I ended up scrapping the Charlie idea but I'm gonna write another Fic for that idea. I hope you like it and that it isn't too bad! Also I replaced "son” with “daughter” 

Being human was an odd sensation, a sensation Castiel certainly wasn't used to. It hadn't  been long since he was stripped off his angel grace and he still found himself slipping into old habits of that an angel. In fact, he found being a human somewhat exhausting. There were so many feelings a human experienced during a day and he found it strange getting used to fatigue, hunger and his bladder. His bladder had caused a few incidents that neither Cas nor the Winchesters wanted to talk about. Despite being a relatively good hunter, Cas still struggled without his angelic powers and there had been a few occasions which almost got him severely injured. This had been enough for Dean to go into “overprotective mode” and keep Cas away from doing any actual hunting despite Cas’ protests that he was fine, leaving him to only help with research and the knowledge he already had.

It was Halloween and Cas’ and the Winchesters had been drawn to a rather gruesome case in a small town. This small town seemed accustomed to Halloween traditions and celebrations, with townsfolk taking it seriously and as expected that had drawn a monster murdering victims, particularly this time of year due to more people being around. A pure blood werewolf to be exact. What the men hadn't expected however, was to team up with a young woman named Ava who insisted on helping them. She was pretty familiar with monster-hunting and had a bit of knowledge on the supernatural but she didn't hunt herself due to being a full-time carer to her 7 year old (half) sister Lily.

“So I've managed to get up the locate this Jonathan Crawl guy. We should be all set.” Sam announced referring to the werewolf they were hunting.

He was sitting at the table with laptop in Ava’s living room, Dean was getting ready to leave whilst Ava and Cas sat on the couch Lily sandwiched between them peacefully watching TV.

“It's always the werewolves with the douchey names.” Dean mumbled “Uh guys, there's one small problem.” Ava said looking up at the boys. All three of them, including Cas looked at her questionly.  “Who's gonna watch Lily? I can't exactly take her with us and as much as I hate not being with her  I really think I should help out, I know this town like the back of my hand and I know Jonathon too. I can help trap him.”

None of them could argue. She had a point.

Cas in particular thought about what she said. Although it hadn't been said he knew Dean would be reluctant to let him help much on the case with Sam following his brother’s orders although a lot more lieniuetat. And as much as Dean’s stubbornness annoyed him he knew he had a good point (plus Cas knew Dean meant well, the older Winchester had a habit of caring too much and being overprotective). With Cas mojo gone he had to rely on basic human extinct and weapons. He was still pretty inexperienced and hadn't proven much help so far although he was improving. Being human had really taken its toll on him. He decided it would be best if he stayed back and watched Lily. Shyly Cas raised his hand (he had seen someone do it on a TV show once).

“I suppose I could stay back and watch Lily.” Cas offered. “You sure Cas?” Sam asked, a little uncertain. “Certain. Besides, I don't think I can be of much help. I'm still not quite as skilled at hunting yet and it would do me good to...adjust.” Cas replied smiling a little. Dean cocked his head slightly as if to consider, which Cas found a little odd seeing as it should be Ava’s decision and he felt more like Dean’s son than anything. Ava on the other hand look relieved and thankful.

“Castiel! Thank you so much! I hope it's not a problem! Are you sure?” She said gratefully. Cas nodded and Ava’s smile grew again. “Lily make sure you're good for Castiel okay?” Ava said getting off the couch and crouching in front of her sister, lightly stroking her hair. Lily nodded before placing her thumb in her mouth. A habit she was too old for but Ava let her own personal comfort. Lily’s had to deal with absentee mother and deadbeat dad. “How could you forget your own daughter��s birthday?” Ava said to Cas and the boys when she told them about her and Lily’s troubled life. They had the same mother but she was out of the picture and had different fathers both as bad as each other by the sounds of it. Apparently it had been Lily’s birthday the week before the boys rolled into town and although she was promised an exciting gift from her dad he was a no show except a text to Ava two days later reading “Srry I 4got Lily’s B-day. hope she had a gr8 1.”

“Cas’ll be fine. Won't you buddy? Just try not to burn the place down.” Dean said clapping a hand on his shoulder, now seeming positive about the situation. “Don't worry Lily you're in good hands.” He said softly now crouching in front of Lily. “although Cas can be a bit you know.” Dean crossed his eyes and swirled his index finger around his temple causing Lily to giggled. Cas frowned but couldn't find it in him to be annoyed with Dean. There was something endearing about the way he interacted with children. Cas was positive that Dean would have made the best babysitter but he knew all too week the Older Winchester would prefer to be hunting, over worrying about both Cas and Sam’s capabilities despite them being just as skilled as him. Dean reached his fist out toward Lily who connected her own in a fist bump before standing up and turning toward Sam and Ava who were both smiling.

“Okay let's gank this son of a bitch.” He said before turning to leave, Ava and Sam following.

The door closed and all that could be heard in the apartment was the noise from TV and Lily quietly humming along to the show’s theme tune. Cas turned his focus towards the TV and tried to make sense of the show. He deduced it was about a young girl with a talking monkey - why the monkey could speak he didn't understand. Oh, and her map and backpack could not only speak but sing! Cas was growing more perplexed by the second and he squinted at the screen curiously as the cartoon girl and her anthropomorphic monkey friend encouraged the audience to tell her where an apple tree was located (which was clearly right next to her, Castiel couldn't understand why she wouldn't just look in that direction).

“You're supposed to tell her where it is!” Lily said cheerfully breaking the silence between them. “Like this: over there Dora!” She cupped her small hands around her mouth and continued to shout “Over there Dora!”. Unsure on what else to do, Cas copied Lily and shouted too. He had to admit he felt a little bit of satisfaction when the cartoon girl - Dora - told them “good job!”. For the rest of the show Lily had managed to convince Cas to join in with the songs and shouting at the TV. Once the show ended she couldn't stop laughing .

“That was fun!” She giggled swinging her legs. “I have to agree. That was enjoyable.” He replied smiling. Then he felt a strong rumble in his stomach accompanied by a large noise. Hunger, he identified and sighed to himself. He didn't realised Lily heard until she started giggling again. “Are you hungry, Ca-Cas-Castiel?” She asked, trying to remember his name. “I think I am.” “I'm hungry too. Can you make me some potato animal shapes pretty please?” She asked with such childlike innocence that Cas couldn't say no despite being uncertain on how to cook these so called “potato animal shapes”.

He nodded and Lily hissed out a “yesssss” before running into the kitchen. He followed and saw Lily struggling to take out the packet so he reached down and picked up the colourful packet displaying a wacky away of cartoon animals looking rather happy. He turned the packet around and stared at the intsructions, frowning as he tried to make sense of it all.

“You're s’pose to put them in the microwave.” Lily said pointing to the microwave on the counter, as though sensing his confusion. Castiel nodded as he followed to where she was pointing. She opened up the cupboards and took out a plate carefully placing it on the counter with two hands. Cas opened up the packet and let Lily pick the animal shapes she wanted.

“This one is a dinosaur! And this one is a bird!” She babbled holding up the shapes before putting them on the plate. Castiel decided to join in but he found he couldn't really tell what animals the shapes were supposed to be.

“Is this one a...cat?” He asked, more to himself, holding one of the shapes up.

“No silly! That's a dog!” Lily said giggling and taking the shape out of his hand and placing it on the plate. Once it was all filled she walked through how to put it in the microwave and turning the it on. If she found it strange teaching Cas who was technically a grown up how to cook she didn't show it. In fact she seemed perfectly content with instructing Cas and dragged a stool and stood on it, placing both arms on the counter and resting her chin there watching the plate turn around slowly. Soon the microwave dinged and Cas opened it up however he didn't anticipate on the plate being hot. He immediately felt the pain  as he grabbed it to take it out. Lily looked conecerned as he flinched his hand back.

“Ava says you're s’posed to use oven gloves. It's okay Castiel just put it under cold water and it should get better.” She said taking Cas’ hand and leading him over to the sink.

"Thank you Lily.” Cas said gratefully as he turned on the tap.

“It's okay Castiel. Accidents happen. Ava usually leaves it there for two minutes!    Which is one hundred and twenty! I’ll count!” She babbled and began counting under her breath. She got about 60 seconds and Cas could feel his hand going numb. He went to move away his hand.

“No! I'm not finished yet!” Lily shrieked followed by a small giggled. She finally reached 120 seconds and Cas was grateful to remove his hand. He turned off the tap and held his hand to his chest, hopping the discomfort would dissappear soon. He looked toward lily who seemed to be kissing her hand. He frowned in confusion. Lily then placed the hand she kissed on the Cas burned hand.

“Ava always says a kiss makes everything better!” She said smiling. Cas couldn't help but smile back before grabbing the plate and taking it into the living room with Lily at his heels.

Lily was more than happy to share her food.

“This is really good.” Cas said as he took a bite from his third animal shape,

“They are my favourite food in the whole world! But Ava won't let me have them all the time. She makes me eat carrots, I hate carrots. I hate all vegetables.” She said pulling a face. They finished up the food, which Cas really enjoyed and Lily instead they do some drawing and colouring. She grabbed her colouring pencils, colouring book as well as some plain paper and set them out on the table. Castiel took a seat opposite her and sat quietly unsure on what to do. 

“You can colour in my book! I bet your colouring will be really, really good!” She said excitedly pushing the colouring book towards Castiel and some pens. She then started drawing in a blank piece of paper. Cas opened up the book on a line drawing of a boat on the sea. Truth be told he wasn't too sure how to colour in properly. However once he looked at the way lily used her pens he figured it couldn't be too hard. He grabbed some random colours and began to fill it in. They sat for about ten minutes until Lily broke the silence. 

“At school for our homework we have to write what we want to be when we grow up.” Lily said although still concentrating in her drawing. 

“And what do you want to be when you're older?” Cas asked softly. 

“I dunno. Maybe saving people. Like a superhero or something. The teachers said I could be a nurse or maybe a policewoman. Are you really an angel Castiel?” Lily asked. The question took Cas by surprised and he wasn't sure how to answer. “I know I shouldn't of been listening but I heard Dean tell Ava you were an angel. Do angels really save people?” 

“"Uh...” Castiel began. He was considering denying it but Lily was filled with such innocence and sweetness he didn't have the heart not too. “"I was an angel. I'm not an angel anymore. And yes angels do save people.” He replied. Lily nodded. 

“You're not an angel anymore?” 

“No. Something happened however I do still save people.”

“I think you make a good angel.” She said. “Do you have wings?” 

“I do. Well, I did. But normal humans can't see them. If so you may disintergrate.” Cas said matter-of-factly. He still had a hard time socialising like a normal person and he winced a little once he realised how straight to the point his words were, worried he scared her. 

“Awesome!” lily said enthusiastically, looking up from drawing to give Cas a big smile. 

“Castiel sounds like an angel name. It's a really cool name I like it!” 

“But it's not as cool as the name Lily.” Cas said, impressed at his own words. Lily just smiled and started humming. They sat colouring and drawing for another half an hour and the apartment door swung open and in cam Ava followed by a  bruised up Sam and Dean. 

“Ava!” Lily said shrieking running over to her older sister. Ava smiled and picked her up. 

“Did you get Jonathon Crawl? Are you guys okay?” Cas said immediately walking over to them. 

“Peachy. Have I mentioned I fucking hate Halloween.” Dean mumbled. 

“Language.” Ava chided. Cas saw a number of Halloween stickers and silly strung stuck to Dean’s jacket and figured that the reason for his announcement. 

“Yeah we got him Cas and we're all okay.” Sam said smiling. Cas couldn't help but let out a breath of relief.

“So did you have a good time? Was you good for Castiel?” Ava asked Lily. Lily nodded excitedly. 

“Uh-huh! We had a great time didn't we Castiel!” Lily said. 

“Yes we did” Cas said smiling. 

“We ate the potatoe animal shapes and did some colouring!” She said. She then squirmed in Ava’s grasp in an attempt to get down. Once she let go she ran over to the table and grabbed her drawing she The walked over to Cas and handed it to him. 

“Here you go Castiel! This is for you!” She said cheerfully. Castiel took the drawing and smiled once he saw to smily figures. One resembling Ava with hair in two pigtails and and another with what looked like angel wings. Accompanied with a bright blue sky, sun, birds, grass and trees. 

“Well look at you Cas. Looks like your Mary Poppins now.” Dean said grinning. 

“I know what I want to be when I grow up!” Lily said to Ava cheerfully. 

“And what might that be?” Ava asked smiling. Lily looked towards Castiel and smiled. 

“An angel.”