#like I’d love a fic where after the finale they all had a cookout or something with baby number two

[foxanddanapetrie]

Hi I just got super sad all of a sudden that the lone gunmen are dead??

[buckyswintersoldiermask]

The Super Soldier and His Friend

Part 7

Bucky Barnes x friend!reader

(Bucky x Sam, Sam x reader, Sarah x reader)

⊙ Bucky Masterlist ⊙ Main Masterlist ⊙ TSSAHF Masterlist ⊙

Summary: Bucky tells Yori the truth, and tells you that you’re his family. Bucky invites you to go with him to Louisiana for a cookout with Sam.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: spoilers for FATWS Episodes 5 and 6

A/N: this is the final part of the series, I hope it’s to y’all’s liking :)

I don’t want FATWS to end :((

“You weren’t amending, you were avenging.” Those words rang in Buckys mind. He truly wasn’t amending, so he knew what he had to do.

“So you’re going to tell Yori today, are you sure today is the day?”

“I’ve waited long enough, he needs the closure (y/n) and it’s one step closer to me making amends.”

You patted his shoulder and gave him a warm smile, “I’ll be at my place, come over if you want, when you’re done.” He nods before you both leave his apartment. You went into your apartment just hoping the best for Bucky.

He’s had so much growth since you’ve met him, he’s finally getting closer to peace. Something he’s wanted since you met him.

Bucky didn’t take long. Bucky knocked on his door, Yori surprised to see him, he let him in. They sat down and Bucky told him straight up,

I, uh, have something to tell you. About your son.

Yori was confused to say the least, what could Bucky know about his son? Bucky and Yori sat down as Bucky slipped off his glove.

He was murdered. Bucky said, making Yori even more confused.

By The Winter Soldier. And that was me. Bucky finally spits out, as his voice shakes. Taking everything in him not to fall apart.

“Why?” Yori asked, Bucky inhales, trying to compose himself, “I didn’t have a choice.”

Yori showed Bucky out after that. Bucky took a little walk afterwards, before showing up at your door.

Once he knocked on your door and you saw his face, you knew he had told him. He had tried to tell Yori multiple times, but this time he stuck with it. You let him in and he sat down on your couch.

You stood just a few feet away from him, wanting to know if he’s okay. “So how did it go?”

“I told him, he asked why, and I told him why.”

“I know that was hard and I’m proud of you.” Bucky nods, as you pat his shoulder.

“Do you want to stay for a bit?” He nods again and you grab a bunch of delivery menus from your kitchen. “You’re lucky I don’t have work tomorrow.”

“Your hours are never consistent. Why do you even work there?”

“Well some of us aren’t a World War II veteran and need to work to have a roof over our heads.” You retorted, passing him a menu. “Order us some food, and if I didn’t have a job I wouldn’t be able to pay for our food.”

He smirked before ordering the food as you brought 2 sodas to the table. Setting them down, before sitting down across from him. “Do you want to talk about it?” He shook his head, popping the lid on the soda off.

Trying to lighten the mood you say, “Well I know what we could talk about.”

“And what’s that?”

“Sam’s new suit.” You say, before opening your own soda.

“I’m not following.”

“That’s a nice suit. The Wakandans did good.”

“How did-“

“Just a hunch. Now let’s talk about your suit.”

“My suit is fine.”

“I mean it could use some tweaks.”

“We are not doing this.”

“Sam’s suit is better than yours.” You blurt out, teasing Bucky more. His mouth drops open in fake shock.

“Take it back.”

“He has wings and a shield. You just have a jacket and some pants and a gold and black metal arm.” You exclaim, making Bucky roll his eyes.

“And here I thought you were my friend.”

“I am, and as your friend I’m saying your suit needs an upgrade.”

“Alright, fashion expert.”

After some more light bantering between the two of you, your food arrived, you paid for it then brought it inside.

You noticed the bag being extra heavy than usual. “Geez, Bucky how much did you order?” You asked, taking containers out of the bag.

“Enough.”

“Yeah enough to feed 6 people.”

You and Bucky ate as he told you about him and Sam stopping the flagsmashers. It was nice to hear Bucky and Sam working together and not being a pain in each other’s sides. You saw Sam’s speech on TV the other day, it was beautiful and inspiring. Sam is Captain America.

It was way past 12am and Bucky decided he should go home. Even though you didn’t mind him staying, he insisted. “Will you be alright tonight?” You asked, making sure he’d be okay after that day's events.

He nods, “if not, I’ll come over.” You give him a tight hug before he leaves.

It was quiet and calm in your apartment as you were getting ready for bed. Bucky seemed fine after talking to Yori but he knew he’s always welcome at your place anytime. Which you always expressed. You were getting ready for bed and was interrupted as you heard a knock on your door. You groaned as you trudged to your front door.

You unlocked it to see it’s Bucky. You let him in and close the door behind him, “why didn’t you just use your key?”

“I didn’t want you to think someone was breaking in.”

“Good point,” you sat down on the couch and patted it, telling him to come sit down. “You okay, Buck?” You asked, remembering what he said earlier. He sat down beside you as you got ready to listen to what he had to say.

“Yeah, I just wanted to ask you something.”

“What’s up?”

“Sam invited me to a cookout in New Orleans and I wanted to know if you’d come with me.”

“I’d love to, only if Sam and his family are okay with it. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“I asked him if it was okay. He said you’re welcome to come.” You smiled, “well if it’s okay with him.”

“I got us plane tickets.” He says, handing you a plane ticket he bought.

“You just knew I’d say yes, huh?”

“I just want all of my family to be there.” You stare at him for a moment, with a jaw dropping expression on your face.

“You’re family (y/n/n). I thought I had nothing when Sam gave up the shield, but I had you. Even though we are an usual pair of friends, you’re very important to me.”

“So that’s why you came here at almost 2am? To tell me I’m your family.”

“Yes?” Bucky answered, unsure of how you were taking this.

“I love you too, Buck.”

You glanced down at your plane ticket to see the date you’re supposed to be leaving.

“We’re leaving in 2 days?!”

“Yes..” you glared at him as he slouched in his seat avoiding eye contact with you.

After about a 3 hour flight, you and Bucky landed in New Orleans. You rented a car and you were on your way to the dock, where the cookout was.

“Wait.” You said, making Bucky stop the car abruptly.

“What happened?”

“We have to bring something. We can’t show up empty handed.”

“What should we bring?”

Bucky drove to the store and the both of you settled on a cake with buttercream icing and 2 liters of soda. You pull up to the dock and Bucky puts on some shades and his jacket. You shook your head as you grabbed the drinks and Bucky got the cake. Music was playing, food was being cooked and everybody was just having a good time when you walked up.

The first people who greeted Bucky were Sam’s nephews, Cass and AJ. Bucky pretended to fight with them for a little bit before walking over to the table and placing down the cake. You came behind and placed the drinks on the table as well. Bucky glanced around looking for the man of the hour. He was getting hugs and pictures from people in the community.

Bucky brought you over to Sam, giving him a hug. Buckys come a long way from ignoring his messages to hugging him, you thought. Bucky glanced over to you, introducing you to Sam.

“(y/n), this is Sam. Sam, (y/n).”

“Nice to meet you in person, Sam. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Anyone who’s friends with Bucky is a friend of mine.”

You met a lot of really nice people that day. You talked to Sarah and offered to help her cook. And man did she put you to work. After you were done, you sat at a picnic table, enjoying the atmosphere.

You watched as children played on Bucky's metal arm as he talked to Sarah, which warmed your heart. Bucky’s arm being a bar to play on for kids. It was nice to see him happy and peaceful there in Louisiana.

Bucky excused himself before coming over to you, “you okay, doll?”

“Yeah, I’m just taking it all in. You fit right in down here.” Bucky nods, agreeing with you, he does fit right in. “Why don’t you come over here with me, Sarah and the kids?” Bucky questioned as he grabbed your hand, leading you over to them.

“I know you two have met.” Bucky smiled, as you sat down at the table.

“Yeah, (y/n), helped me with the food earlier, she’s the one that deals with you in New York.” You laugh, before nodding at Sarah’s comment, “that’s me, though, I feel it's a mutual thing, we deal with each other.”

“Thank you for being so welcoming.” You said as a big smile appeared on your face.

“Of course.”

The music continued to play as everyone danced around, chatted, and ate. The sun began to set. Bucky went to talk to Sam for a moment and Sarah went to go talk to some more people. You stayed there watching the kids play, such innocence and beauty. You glanced over at Sam and Bucky as Bucky nudged his shoulder, a huge grin on his face. You had never seen him smile as much as he smiled that day.

Sam and Buckys moment was short but sweet. Bucky came back and sat next to you, still smiling.

“You’re really enjoying yourself.” You said, turning to him, making eye contact.

“I am, I’m really glad you came (y/n/n).”

“I’m glad I came too.”

That day Bucky realized something. He had a family and he was finally happy.

A/N: tell me what you thought about this part! Might make an alternative ending or something idk.

Bucky Tags: @ragnaroqk @mollysolo @mogaruke @whothehellisbuckybarnes @amelia-song-pond @fredweazleyswh0re @tinylumpiaa @i-reblog-fics-i-like @weenersoldierr @stephthepeach @sammypotato67 @ttalisa @mxltifaves @supremethunda @hanniebee33 @gamerartisy @afraid-to-be-me @qhbr2013 @kidswhofightmonsters @bahama-mama-llama @teti-menchon0604 @jbreenr

TSSAHF Tags: @nialeesato @marvel-ousnesss

Taglist

[naiatabris]

ZevWarden Week Day 2's theme is "Gifts." We all know the Warden is an expert gift-giver (an idea I'm playing with here)--so what happens when it's Zev's turn? This is set in the modern AU of my "Charity Case" fic, shortly after the events of the story.

______________

“Hey, are you doing anything Friday after work?”

Zevran glanced over from the pan of eggs he was frying. Naia was making coffee at his side, carefully pushing the top of the press into the vessel to sweep the grounds to the bottom. Naia herself was not picky about her coffee, since she took it with a great deal of sugar and milk; she’d learned this more elaborate method for him, a fact he still did not quite know how to process.

“No firm plans, no. Do you have suggestions?” He winked at her. “Are they naughty ones?”

She laughed as she began to pour the coffee into mugs. “Not exactly. It’s my birthday. I always invite some people for dinner at that diner near the DFRC to celebrate. It’s very casual, but I’d love for you to come.”

“Then I will be there.” He slid the eggs from the pan with practiced ease before pulling out his phone to mark the appointment in his calendar.

*********

Later that day, as Zevran was headed out of Cousland Enterprises to find lunch, a familiar voice interrupted his train of thought. “Hi, Zev!”

Zevran turned to see Beth Cousland walking through the CE door, a bright smile on her face. “Beth! A pleasant surprise. Lunch with a family member?”

She nodded. “I haven’t seen Fergus in ages, and I need ideas for Oren’s birthday. Hey, speaking of birthdays, what are you getting Naia for Friday?”

The question caught Zevran utterly off-guard. He immediately felt foolish. Presents. Of course. As customary in Ferelden as they are in Antiva.

“I … am still struggling with an idea,” he said, not quite lying. “And you?”

“Same here.” Beth’s face lit up. “Here, I’ve got a few minutes before Fergus and I are supposed to leave. Let’s call the expert.”

Barely a minute later, Beth had Alistair Griffin on speakerphone.

“Oooooh. I should have warned you.” Zevran heard Alistair take a deep breath. “Here’s the thing about Naia. She is absurdly, impossibly good at gift-giving. Those action figures on my bookshelf? They were my favorites when I was a kid. I lost them in a move after college but Naia somehow found me new ones. Another year, she sewed me my own Denerim Crashers jersey--that’s the old minor league baseball team that I used to follow before they moved to Highever. She put my name on it and everything.”

Zevran felt a nervous sensation beginning to spread through his stomach.

“So what are you getting her?” Beth asked, a little worried wrinkle between her brows.

“Soccer ball autographed by her favorite Denerim Lightning players,” Alistair said promptly. “Took me a while to find one with the goalie’s signature on it, but I finally had a good idea and I wasn’t going to screw it up.” He cleared his throat. “It was also more than I probably should have spent. Want to split the cost and put your name on the card?”

“Deal,” Beth said immediately. “Any other ideas Zev could use?”

“Unfortunately I spent months coming up with just that one idea,” Alistair said dryly. “Sorry, Zevran. But I wouldn’t worry about it. Gifts are her thing, I think she kind of likes that she’s so much better at it than we are. And most people at the party don’t bring a present. You’ve only been dating a month. She probably doesn’t expect you to get her anything.”

Zevran frowned. “I appreciate the insight,” he told Alistair sincerely. “But I would not wish to arrive empty-handed. I will think of something.”

After exchanging goodbyes with her boyfriend, Beth hung up the phone and gave Zevran a reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’s right, you know. Whatever you get her, she’ll appreciate the thought.”

Zevran was sure Beth had the right of it. But the knowledge that Naia valued gifts, that she spent so much time and effort on presents for those she cared about, felt like a challenge he wanted to meet. ‘Appreciate the thought’ would not do.

He wanted to find something she would love.

*********

Over the next few days, Zevran began jotting down a list of things he knew Naia liked, trying to come up with a potential gift. He listened to her remarks, paid attention to what she watched on TV, looked at her wall of family photos depicting graduations and cookouts and summer days swimming at a beach on the Amaranthine Ocean.

Coming up with a present was more difficult than he’d anticipated. Since Alistair had already secured the soccer ball, anything related to Naia’s favorite sport or team was out. She’d just bought new running shoes a few weeks ago. He considered something more intimate, but between them they had an impressive collection of toys, and lingerie felt like a gift for him as much as for her.

Perhaps a physical present was the wrong direction. He thought back to the birthdays he’d planned for Taliesin and Rinna. During their first year as Crows he’d taken Taliesin club-hopping, laying out his credit card for some absurdly expensive table service before the two of them headed back to Taliesin’s apartment with an enthusiastic third party. For the last birthday he’d celebrated with Rinna, he’d booked a table at the city’s most exclusive restaurant, followed by a night in a penthouse hotel suite with a spectacular view.

Neither of those ideas were right for Naia, though. He’d learned that she was instinctively frugal, that the prospect of a twenty-dollar cocktail made her wrinkle her forehead and order soda instead. A high-end Denerim restaurant or hotel with mostly shemlen patrons would feel like an ordeal rather than a celebration.

He wanted something special yet comfortable, nice enough to be a treat and yet not so expensive it made her uneasy. A difficult balance to strike, especially since he was still getting to know his new city.

But finally, on Thursday morning, it came to him.

*********

Naia had somewhat undersold her birthday celebration. When Zevran arrived at the diner, it was filled with balloons and packed with her friends--old high school and college classmates, teachers from Vanedrin High, and other rec center employees. He was trying to figure out how to insert himself into this clearly tight-knit and friendly group--but before he could puzzle over it too much, Naia seized him by the sleeve and began to introduce him around.

More than once, Zevran touched the pocket of his jacket to make sure the envelope he’d brought was tucked safely inside.

Alistair began handing her presents as the diner’s wait staff brought out buckets of fries and pitchers of beer. She squealed in glee over the soccer ball, turning it around and around until she’d examined every signature; a new backpack, a gift card to a movie theater, and a Denerim Lightning ball cap were all greeted with hugs and enthusiastic thanks.

And finally, as the wrapping paper was cleared away and the guests resumed their party, Zevran slid an envelope in front of Naia. “Happy birthday.”

“Zev! I should have told you, presents are always optional. But thank you.” She grinned at him and opened it.

Her eyebrows rose as she pulled out the photograph inside. “It’s--a little house? Next to the ocean.” Then her eyes widened in recognition. “Zev. This isn’t …?”

He nodded. “The beach where your family used to go in the summer. Places near the water do book up early, but I was fortunate--there was a cancellation next month. It is just a weekend, but …”

Naia leaned over and kissed him, cutting off his almost-apology. When she pulled back, her eyes were sparkling. “I can’t believe this! It’s amazing! My parents had to cut back on the trips when we started saving for college …” she trailed off wistfully, then looked down at the picture and beamed. “I don’t think I’ve been to the beach in years. I can’t wait.”

“I fear there is a small addendum,” he admitted. “I had to call your parents to learn more about your favorite spots. We will be attending the Tabris family cookout next weekend. Adaia and Cyrion were quite clear that ‘no’ is not an option.”

Naia leaned her head back and groaned. “Oh, Maker. I’m sorry in advance, Zev.”

Oddly enough, Zevran was not. He had never met the parents of anyone he slept with, and he could not deny that the idea was strange. But there had been something very pleasant about hearing the elder Tabrises insist on meeting Naia’s boyfriend.

He raised his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “A cookout is an acceptable price for the chance to see you in a bikini,” he murmured, too low for the rest of the party to hear.

“This place looks pretty private, Zev,” Naia murmured back. “If we’re lucky, we can skip the bathing suits.”

[bashfulgnome]

Cookout

Hey everyone! I’ve been sitting on this fic for a while and it’s finally ready to go – just a fun little summer story with the Core Four. Enjoy!

Summer was winding down, and the four of them saw fit to have one last barbecue that weekend. Litwak was out of town for a couple of days–he'd figured that the usual patrons would be on vacation anyway–so they certainly weren't short on guests from neighboring games who wanted to join in on the fun. The atmosphere of Fix-It Felix Jr. buzzed with activity, from the various Nicelanders milling about to the visitors enjoying the friendly afternoon company.

Some of the troops from Hero's Duty joined the Sugar Rush racers in Niceland Lake for an impromptu game of chicken while Q*bert and the other East Nicelanders looked on. Vanellope swam around cheering on her game-mates, but occasionally split off into the weedy side of the lake, curiously observing the wildlife. Ralph hung around the shallow ends, making waves for the smaller sprites to ride, and keeping an eye out for struggling swimmers and brewing fights.

Tamora helmed the grill, clad in her "Kiss My Ass" apron–as such a crowded gathering demanded–and having set out a batch of burgers and hot dogs in neat rows. The chopmeat was a donation from Burger Time, courtesy of Peter Pepper himself, in exchange for Tamora's assistance in ejecting a rowdy patron from the establishment the week prior. The sizzling little slabs of meat created a pleasant white noise that drowned out Gene's distant blathering about the limited selection of beverages. Between the soothing sound, delicious aroma, and the focused task of minding the food's status, grilling put her in a calm state of flow.

Her husband had spent most of the morning running between the apartments and the picnic area, carrying supplies and pre-prepared food back and forth, and managing the guests who would occasionally stop in from the lake for a snack. She hadn't seen much of him while she was setting up the grill–usually just his hat peeking over a stack of paper plates with legs–but she knew where he was from the tune of his jolly whistling. To match his special lady, he'd decided to wear his own "All The Fixins" apron for the occasion. Felix was in Special Event Mode, and there was very little that would convince him to slow down.

Amidst all the activity, Vanellope scampered along the path from Niceland Lake to the picnic area. She had formulated a plan for the day and her underwater reconnaissance was complete - but there was one missing piece. This wasn't a chance that came around every day, so she'd need some special equipment. And with Felix occupied, she'd have an easier time acquiring it.

"Sarge." The child saluted, her face unusually serious.

"Prez." Tamora returned the gesture. "What's up?"

The racer glanced around the cooking area but didn't see anything immediately suitable for her mission. She'd have to stall. "Whatcha puttin' on the burgers?"

"Onion, red pepper, garlic powder, salt." Tamora counted off the ingredients. "Just exper– MAC! Get the hell off him, you drown him and he won't regenerate!"

The girl followed the suddenly-yelling sergeant's line of sight to catch a glimpse of a startled Marine rolling off his panicking comrade's back and splashing into the water. Ralph, who had been in the process of separating them, gave Tamora a thumbs-up. She waved back in acknowledgement and muttered something under her breath.

"Anyway," she sighed. "Just experimenting this time. Got a request?"

Vanellope scrunched her nose and continued scanning the area. "Oh. I thought you guys were gonna use basil?" The racer recalled the small, fragrant plants she had seen in the couple's garden.

"We tried growing some out back, but Norwood's cats kept pissing on it. So that was a bust." She shrugged and pointed her spatula towards a small bag. "I got brown sugar though. That up your alley, kid?"

Vanellope spotted a spare plastic container on the picnic table behind them. Perfect. "Uh, yeah, sure, love it. Hey, can I borrow that empty bowl thing?"

Tamora had begun to notice Vanellope's shiftiness and raised an eyebrow, leaning over. "What for?"

The miniature president looked around before standing on her toes to reach the woman. "I wanna see if I can catch something cool in the lake," she whispered with a grin.

Well, there were no snakes in there, as far as the sergeant knew. Other than Coily on his inner tube, of course. "Yeah, I don't need it. Go nuts."

"Thanks!" She picked up the container, holding it above her head in triumph, and dashed off back to the lake before Tamora could say anything more. The sergeant laughed to herself. She was looking forward to seeing how this scheme turned out.

In the meantime, Felix surveyed the area with his hands on his hips, and let out a relieved sigh upon seeing that everything was in order. Ralph hadn't needed any help with lifeguarding, the places were all set, and a few of their neighbors had begun making their way to the tables, enticed by the scent of the pending meal. There was only one more situation to tend.

Tamora felt a light touch on the side of her leg and smiled, not needing to look down.

"Hey, Felix."

He took hold of her free hand and squeezed it gently, running his thumb over her knuckles. "Need anything, darlin'? I can get you some ice cream if you'd like."

"Standing in front of this grill, it'd be a puddle in ten seconds. But thanks for the offer, babe."

"Are you sure? You've been taking care of the burgers all afternoon. If you feel like goin' down to the lake to cool off, I can take over for you."

She glanced down from her work and saw the little guy wearing that worried puppy-dog expression of his. Of course, she thought. All the prep work, setting up the tables, keeping the guests occupied, and his most pressing concern was still making sure she wasn't mildly uncomfortable. She laughed softly.

"Don't worry about me, shortstack. I’ve got a rhythm going here,” she replied, leaning down with a smirk. “But I'll take you up on some dessert and a swim later tonight." Tamora grinned and pulled down the brim of his hat.

He blushed at the sudden change in tone. "W-well, I guess we do both need to unwind–"

"Get it out! It's biting me! GET IT OUT!"

Interrupting their moment, Ralph came stumbling towards the startled couple from the direction of the Niceland Lake, hopping from foot to foot. Vanellope followed close behind, pointing and giggling at the wrecker's predicament as he attempted to dislodge something from his swim trunks. Ralph finally grabbed the leg of his garment and shook it out, producing a large and terrified frog, which the racer scooped up before any of the adults could stop her.

"Vanellope, tha–haha–t wasn't very nice," Felix sputtered out as he tried not to giggle.

Tamora, who made no such effort, paused her grilling to fully appreciate the spectacle.

"Hey, nice one Prez!" she shouted through snorting laughter. "Where'd you find a frog that can bite?"

The diminutive president was too busy laughing to respond, and it became clear that the prank was not over. As Ralph continued hopping, two small, young ducks fell out of the other side of his trunks. They flailed on their backs, quacking in annoyance as they righted themselves in a flurry of feathers. Luckily for Felix, the ducks were most concerned with distancing themselves from Ralph, and took off chasing each other towards the lake.

A loud whistle and hearty laughter rang out from the other end of the picnic area, catching everyone's attention. "Very good dancing! Make DDR friends jealous!" Zangief clapped at Ralph's unintentional performance.

Ralph's face flushed, and he quickly turned back to his best friend. "Kid, you really gotta calm down with the pranks. Someone's gonna get hurt."

Tamora resumed grilling. "Yeah, if those trunks fell down we'd all be stricken blind."

"Not helping, Sarge!"

Vanellope pouted. "Hey, I picked out the smallest ones for you Ralphie!"

"Vanny, believe you me, those duck bites really sting. Even the little ones, they get everywhere..." Felix shuddered.

The four of them heard a familiar grumble from one of the nearby tables.

"Ralph, I am trying to enjoy this outing in peace, and I would appreciate it if you and that" – the mayor squinted at Vanellope – "child could make your commotion somewhere else. Some people just have no class."

Ralph and Vanellope shared a wordless exchange of a raised eyebrow and a devious grin.

"Gene, why don't you go find something fun to do instead of givin' them a hard time?” Felix had really hoped the drink selection would keep the mayor in better spirits, but to no avail. “Nobody's using the gazebo, if you want someplace quiet."

"I'm just saying that there's a certain level of propriety expected in–"

He was cut off by a quiet splat as the frog Vanellope tossed landed on his face. The Nicelander went silent for an instant before sputtering and thrashing himself out of his seat.

The wrecker high-fived his partner-in-crime and they both took off into the lakeside woods, peals of laughter ringing in their wake. Gene attempted pursuit once he had extricated himself from the poor amphibian, but thirty years on his own had made Ralph more familiar with that forest than anyone else in the game. The mustachioed man emerged after a futile couple of minutes, muttered his way back to the table, picked up his drink, and stormed off to save face.

Tamora smiled. "Guess that saves everyone some grief. He hasn't stopped complaining all day."

"I'm startin' to think that's his hobby," Felix replied sheepishly. "But he's gonna be back for dinner anyway; said somethin' about sitting with Don and Mary. I'd better go round everyone up–"

"No need." The sergeant put two fingers in her mouth and let out a shrill whistle that cut through the air to the far boundaries of the game, making Felix jump. "Food's done! Everybody come stuff your chewholes!" she hollered.

Working together, Tamora and Felix laid the cooked meat out on buns while the guests lined up. Once they got a seat at the tables, Vanellope sat on Ralph's arm, eating the chips he'd scooped out of a snack bowl on their way to the grill.

"So, satisfied? You got Gene and me today."

She nodded. "I think I'm good for now."

Vanellope eyed her buddy’s meal, suddenly noticing the unusual way he adorned his burger. "Ooh, what's that?"

"Mustard, pickles, and chips. Makes it crunchy. Here, you wanna try?"

"Yeah!" She took a bite of the savory burger and hummed with satisfaction. "Oh! Try a piece of mine too!" She tore off a chunk of the patty and handed it to him.

"Mmm, not b--agh! Too sweet!" He chuckled took a bite of his own burger to clear out the taste. "Couldn't resist one more jab at me, huh?"

"Hey, it's an honor. Savor it." She pinched his cheek and quickly glitched away when he playfully swatted at her.

Tamora snatched the racer in midair and casually placed her back down on the picnic bench, as she and Felix finally took their seats next to the pair of friends. "To surviving another summer rush," she toasted, holding her drink aloft.

"And many more!" Felix added, the others cheering in agreement.

---

Tagging my WIR buddies: @ask-icancraft-it @ashleybenlove @sgtcalhouns @allthefixins @coneygoil @kittysfigurines24 @cy-bug

Let me know if you would like your name added to the tags for future fics!

[atc74]

What If (1)

Written for: @emoryhemsworth​ and this request - Hi Angelina! I was wondering if you could do a fluffy/smutty Jensen x Reader fic based on “What Ifs” by Kane Brown ft. Lauren Alaina? Maybe the reader is super insecure because she’s quite a bit younger than Jensen, and has never considered herself beautiful because of a chromosomal disorder, but Jensen comes along and changes all of that and tells her how smart and beautiful she is? And surprises her by saying he wants to marry her one day? 

Also written for: @spngenrebingo

Square filled: Accidental Confession

Emory, I am sorry it took me so long to get around to writing this for you! I skipped the smut, but I hope you like this! Thank you for your support and love!

Warnings: Talk of infertility, reader’s insecurities, age gap (17 years)

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1531

Beta’d by the best team in the world, @hannahindie and @pinknerdpanda - thank you loves!

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION AND SHOULD BE REGARDED AS SUCH. NO DISRESPECT IS INTENDED TOWARD THE ACKLES OR PADALECKI FAMILIES. 

A/N: Song lyrics have been turned into dialogue and will be bolded. Italics indicate flashbacks.

“What if you leave Jensen? What if you hurt me? Because you realize I am not good enough for you? Because I can’t give you what you want...what you deserve?” you cried. It was all you could think about lately. All the what ifs of your relationship with him. He looked at you like you had just slapped him in the face.

When you moved to Austin for college the only soul you knew was your roommate. You decided to take a few yoga classes in town to meet new people. It was through the yoga studio that you met Genevieve Padalecki. You and Gen quickly became friends and she appreciated that you always treated her like she was your friend first and not a celebrity. You were the same way with Jared when she introduced you to her husband. It wasn’t until a couple years after you and Gen met that she offered you a part-time job watching their two boys. In the time you had known Gen, those boys stole your heart and you jumped at the chance to spend time with them.

It was by chance that you met Jensen Ackles.

“Hey, I didn’t expect you guys back so soon,” you rose from the couch and started putting your books away when you heard the key turn in the lock.

“Who are you?” a deep voice boomed off the walls in the Padalecki’s family room.

“I’m Y/N, the babysitter,” you told him. “But the question is, good sir, what are you doing here?” You crossed your arms and waited for an answer. Of course you knew who he was, but you had no idea what Jensen Ackles was doing there.

“I need a bottle of wine,” Jensen explained quickly. “Jared keeps several in the cellar. I’ll be right back.” With that he was gone down the stairs before you knew it. He returned a few minutes later with two bottles.

“Red or white?” He asked holding them out to you.

“Dude, I’m twenty and I don’t drink. Why don’t you just ask your date what she prefers,” you scoffed slightly, then took in the look on his face. “I-I’m sorry Jensen, that was uncalled for.” You slumped back into the sofa and covered your face with your hands.

“For your information, it isn’t for ‘my date’, it’s for my mother. She asked for a glass of wine, but I didn’t have any. Secondly, you’re really only twenty?” he asked.

“Yes. College student at UT; third year history major. Again, I am so sorry for what I said,” you apologized.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have just barged in like that, even if I do have a key,” his voice was smooth and calm, his eyes soft as he set the bottles down. “Listen, I gotta go. It was nice to finally meet you, Y/N.” He shook your hand, grabbed his bottles and was out the door. You followed and locked up behind him. Great, you thought, the first time you meet Jensen and you make a fool of yourself.

Over the course of the next few months, Jensen would find his way over to the Padalecki’s more and more frequently. First it was a cookout when he should have been out of town. The next, borrowing some tool he said he needed. You became closer with each drop in. Even though watching those boys made you happy, you found yourself smiling each time you watched them, knowing Jensen would pop in, usually unannounced.

It wasn’t until your twenty-first birthday, a few months later, that you actually got a little nervous when you saw him. Jared and Gen took you out for dinner and drinks at San Jac Saloon. You were seated at a private table in the back, when you felt a warm pair of hands on your shoulders. “Happy Birthday Bits.” He pressed a soft kiss the top of your head and took the seat next to you.

As the night wore on, you and Jared became increasingly drunk. Jensen offered to drive you all home so Gen didn’t have to deal with the both of you. You don’t remember everything from that night, but you do remember waking up with a post-it note on your phone that simply said “Read Me.”

You groaned at the thought of what happened the night before, but unlocked your phone anyway and held your breath, prepared for the worst. What you found melted your heart:

Before you ask, no, I didn’t see anything, you were able to change your clothes all on your own. Secondly, if you don’t mind being seen in public with an old guy, would you have dinner with me tonight? ~Jensen

You stared at the text message for what felt like hours before you remembered you hadn’t answered it.

I’d love to. And look on the bright side...you get a discount on meals and movies ;)

His reply came before you could set your phone back down.

Haha very funny Miss smartypants college student. I’ll pick you up at 7

A smile spread across your face and you replied with a thumbs up and a smiley face. You panicked and realized you didn’t know what to wear and called Gen for help. She didn’t need to know it was Jensen, only that you had a date.

You had told Jensen everything early on. It was something he needed to, no, he deserved to know about you. It was better that he knew upfront.  

“Darlin’, why the tears?” Jensen crossed the kitchen and wrapped his arms around you. You and Jensen had only been dating a month and you dreaded this conversation since the first date.

“We need to talk, Jay,” you pulled him to sit next to you. His eyes were filled with concern and worry as he wiped away the tears that had fallen.

“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out,” he whispered as he held you close.

“You shouldn’t be with me Jensen. You deserve so much better,” your voice was barely a whisper.

“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide who I want to be with? Is this because of your age, because I already told you I don’t care,” he told you.

“No, that is not why, at least not all of it. I can’t ever give you what you want.”

“I already know what I want and it’s you, pretty girl. No more, no less.”

“Jensen, I see the way you are with Gen and Jared’s boys, how great you are with them; how happy you are when they are around. How you look at them with longing. That is something I can never give you.”

“Hey hey, we don’t need to have this conversation today or even in the next few months. I am perfectly happy with where we are and where we are headed. I am already head over heels for you, Darlin’. Talk of babies can wait.”

“Jensen, I can’t get pregnant. I can’t do fertility treatments. Not even in-vitro. I can never give you the child you long for,” you sniffed as the tears came again. “Wait...you love me?” You looked up at him, his face soft and full of love.

“You caught that huh? Well, I may have accidentally confessed to being in love with you, but all that other stuff? That can all wait. If we can’t have babies, we can explore adoption or a surrogate, whatever. I just know that I can’t live without you.”

“You say what if I hurt you? What if I leave you? You think you don’t deserve me? Is this about the haters? Ignore them,” Jensen took a step closer to you, but you backed up, keeping him at a distance. You were afraid if he held you, your resolve would crumble.

“No, it isn’t that, Jensen, but I need to leave. I can’t be here anymore,” you moved past him and were almost to the door when you heard his boots on the hardwoods. His warm hand closed gently around your shoulder and he turned you around.

“The what ifs? Is that what this is all about? Well, before you make your mind up I gotta ask, what if I was made for you and you were made for me? What if this is it, what if it’s meant to be?” his voice cracked with emotion and he stared into your eyes.

“It can’t be…” you broke in. The tears became too much for you and you turned away from him again.

“What if I ain't one of them fools just playin' some game? What if I just pull you close, what if I lean in? What if one of these days, baby, I go and change your name? What if I loved all these what ifs away?” his voice dropped off and there was nothing but silence. The seconds ticked by.

What if he walked away? What if he realized you were right? You slowly turned around and found Jensen down on both knees, a small ring box in his hand.

“I wanna change your name. Who cares about the what ifs?”

to be continued...here

The Whole Enchilada: @sis-tafics  @holyfuckloueh @gh0stgurl @hobby27  @bethbabybaby @anspgene @paintrider13-blog @cyrilconnelly @just-another-busy-fangirl @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @roxyspearing @heyitscam99 @iwantthedean @jpadjackles @mogaruke @smoothdogsgirl @x-waywardaf-x @myoutletforfanfiction @growningupgeek @spnbaby-67 @wonderange @emoryhemsworth @impalaimagining @feelmyroarrrr @docharleythegeekqueen @katymacsupernatural @hennessy0274-blog  @charliebradbury1104 @pinknerdpanda @hannahindie @wingedcatninja @highfunctioning-sociopath @speakinvain @evansrogerskitten @percussiongirl2017 @blacktithe7 @theoriginalvicki @mrswhozeewhatsis @sweetpeamoose @sandlee44 @mottergirl99 @meeshw777 @squirrel-moose-winchester @milkymilky-cocopuff @meganwinchester1999 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @grace-for-sale @andkatiethings @nanie5 @monkeymcpoopoo @adoptdontshoppets 

Jensen’s Jamboree: @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @supernatural-jackles @trunk-full-of-ideas @kayteonline @ruprecht0420 @kathaswings @bringmesomepie56 @deandoesthingstome @starry-chaos  @dean-winchesters-bacon @pisces-cutie

[themonkeycabal]

I am trying to get back into the writing thing and today I was watching baseball and moved to write. So, yay! 

I mean, it’s nothing much, but it is something. So, have some quick, fluffy Darcy/Bucky, sort of baseball related fic. 

Thanks for being patient with me during this dreadful writing dry spell. I really appreciate it. 

Autumn was starting to creep into the city. The weather was still mostly warm and green, but there'd been a couple of blustery, rainy days, and a new little chill in the air in the mornings. Darcy wasn't sure she'd ever quite get used to Fall starting in September, but, it wasn't the worst thing in the world. Because, for real, east coast summers were the worst.

Bucky's apartment was not the best place to spend a summer. There was no cross breeze, it got stuffy as hell, and had no central air or anything. A couple fans by the windows, and mostly they just pushed around the sticky, grimy air from the outside.

Today was one of those slightly blustery days, though, and there was a hint of cool and damp and a definite breeze that rattled his blinds. And the apartment was quiet, nobody constantly demanding her attention for this thing or that. She could maybe get some things done. Maybe. Truthfully, it was just nice to hang out quietly with him.

"I think the bar oughta be a Dodgers bar," Bucky said decisively from his spot on the couch.

On the other side of the couch, curled up, her back to the arm rest, feet braced on his thigh, Darcy was spending her Saturday afternoon reluctantly reading reports from Phil. She didn't even bother glare. "Over my dead body."

"It's my bar."

"That I'm paying for." Darcy glanced up from her work and considered the screen. "How about the Mets? I have no strong feelings, they're local, and they're not the Yankees."

"I don't know," he grumbled. "What the hell's a Met?"

"Metropolitans." She rolled her eyes and nudged his knee with her foot. "Oh my God, don't be like that."

His lips lifted into a little smile and he shrugged. "I'll consider it."

Darcy braced her elbow on the back of the couch and set her chin in her hand, watching the game for a minute. "I know a guy on the Mets."

"Yeah?"

"Well, know." She shrugged. "His mom's my lawyer, and his grandpa was my lawyer before that. We sort of knew each other as kids. Kind of. Like, Memorial Day cookouts at his grandpa's house kind of thing."

Bucky jerked his chin at the tv. "He playing?"

She squinted at the field and counted the numbers. "I don't see him. I think he's mostly a bench guy this year. Second base, some shortstop. Good defense, quick on his feet. So-so hitter. Though, he had a good year in triple-A last year. Rick Carmine."

"I'll look out for him," Bucky said and turned his attention back to the game. "Miami Marlins. Sounds like a double-A team," he grumbled and fell silent for a long moment. "That guy needs a haircut. His hair's longer than yours."

"Says you, Mr. Lucious Locks down to your manly shoulders," Darcy laughed, with a roll of her eyes, turning her own attention back to her tablet. So, okay, it wasn't entirely quiet at Bucky's, especially when he was in a 'kids these days' mood. Hilarious as that usually was. "Besides, baseball — it's a long season, what else are they going to do other than grow weirdass beards and bad mullets? Not that there's a good mullet."

He let out a long breath through his nose. "I don't like the long pants, either."

Darcy stared at him for a second, looked at the screen, then back at him. "Are they playing baseball?"

"More or less."

Exasperated, she waved a hand at him, the tv, the universe. "Then, just, whatever, okay?"

He snorted and slumped down on the couch, kicking up his feet onto his coffee table. "Okay, so if some guys have their pants long, and other guys have their socks high, I'll pretend I don't mind. But, if the socks are high, shouldn't they all be the same? It's a uniform. How come that guy's got stripes on his socks, and that guy's are just black? They're on the same team, it oughta look the same."

Darcy rubbed at her forehead and tried to pretend she was focusing on blackmarket weapon sales in Ukraine, and not her partner's old man griping. "Let me get you the commissioner's email. You can send him a letter."

"Yeah, I'll send him a letter," he said, his tone dark with menace.

Darcy nudged his leg again. "Why are you all grumpy cat? You've been watching games all season."

"Yeah, but by myself mostly." He gave her a sad little look, like she'd abandoned him through the baseball season. "A couple times with Barton."

"But you don't bitch to Barton." Aww, he wanted to save his bitching for when she could hear it. That was both annoying and sweet.

"I don't know. I guess not." Bucky watched the game and then slapped his hand on his thigh. "Where the hell was that pitch, ump? Geez. That was right across the letters. Ball, what a crock."

Darcy laughed at his outrage. It was so normal, and those moments where he was just a regular guy were always such delight. "I'm pretty sure the proper nickname for every baseball umpire is 'bum'. So, like, that was a lousy call, you bum."

"I agree. And he is a bum. Look at that strike zone. Or don't, because I can't tell where the hell it is." He pointed at the TV. "I like the strike zone box they put up on the screen. Bet the umps don't."

"Some people want robo-umps," she informed him. "I'm on the fence. I don't entirely hate that, you know, each ump can have his own sort of unique strike zone, but that's only okay so long as they're consistent, you know."

"Robo-ump?"

"Basically that strike zone box. A computer would call balls and strikes. I don't know. I still like the human element. And you get to yell at the bums, which is part of the fun. Some people, though…"

He kept his face pointed at the TV, but his eyes slid over to her. "Yeah, well some people like the DH."

Darcy scowled at him. "I am not arguing about the DH with you. Again."

"Ruining the game," he said, his voice rising.

"Oh my God, shut up about the DH."

Bucky slapped his metal fist in his palm and glowered at the world. "Glad I was on the ice when it was instituted or I woulda burned the league down."

"For real, stop."

"What a waste of the bench," he barked, his voice heating and he was waving his hands at the TV. "So, you carry an extra guy who's only job is to—" Darcy lurched up and lunged at him, clapping her hand across his mouth.

"No," she said, begging, demanding, insisting, pleading. "You're a National League guy, it's fine, I accept it. I like you for who you are, this critical personality flaw included. But, please, no more."

They stared each other down for a long moment before he finally nodded and she let him go. She sat back cautiously, watching him warily like he might start in again.

There'd been a very, very long flight from Argentina where he talked about the designated hitter rule the whole time. She'd been tempted to jump out of the quinjet, except her suit's arc reactor was offline and she was having a hard time getting it back. Even then, though, she was still tempted to jump. She worked great under pressure, and nothing beat the pressure of gravity and a quickly approaching planet.

He turned his attention back to the game. "Mets are okay, I guess. For the bar, I mean."

"Good, great," she told him, relieved to have escaped that dangerous, dangerous DH moment.

"But, I don't want a bunch of tvs in the bar," he said, pointing a finger at her. "Most places, they've always got 'em up too loud. I'm not going to the bar to have some sports jock shout at me while I'm trying to drink a beer."

"A couple, just for games, turn them off the rest of the time."

"'Kay."

They were silent for a moment and then she laughed. "You're like a million years old."

"I like what I like," he grumped. "I don't like the DH, though, because it takes away from strategy—"

"NO!" She dropped her tablet listlessly onto her lap, threw her head back, and let her body go limp in utter and complete defeat. "Call Steve. You guys can go do your old fogey thing about it. Rarr, kids these days and their designated hitter. God. Leave me in peace," she groaned, so much pain, so much anguish. Minor anguish, but still, shut up Bucky.

The room fell quiet after her cri de coeur, except for the quiet rumble of traffic, the voice of the play by play man, and Bucky's laughter. The big asshole.

"Jerk," she muttered and petulantly shoved at his leg with her foot.

"I love riling you up."

"Biggest jerk."

He let out an amused sigh and grabbed her foot before she could kick him again. "Okay, so the Dodgers are in LA. The Athletics are in Oakland. The Giants are in San Francisco. Weird."

"The east coast needs to stop hoarding all the teams," she shot back, her tone sour, still annoyed.

"I guess, or California will steal them all." He gave her a look and then returned his attention to the game. "Oh, and the Braves are in Atlanta. And I don't know what happened to the Senators except now they're the Nationals?"

"I think they're the Twins now, and the Nationals moved from Montreal."

His brows drew down in a confused frown. "Montreal. Canada?"

Darcy shrugged and picked up her tablet again. Work was not really getting done, but she could try to pretend. "Toronto Blue Jays."

"I can't keep up with all this."

"Don't try to see the then, live with the now," she advised.

"What?"

"Half the league are teams after your day. Just, you know, embrace the league as it is now."

"Except the DH."

"Mother fu—" Darcy thumped her forehead with the palm of her hand. "I walked into that one."

"Yeah, you did," he told her, sounding almost gleeful.

"See if I let you use the company seats at the ballpark of your choice. Ever," she told him, glaring darkly.

"You've got seats at all the parks?"

"Ok, well, no, not really. The places we have major offices. For, you know, schmoozing clients, or rewarding employees, and like that. I'd have to check where all. But I'm pretty sure I  could get really awesome tickets anywhere. Not that I will for you. So, know what you're missing and suffer. Nosebleed seats for you, buddy."

Bucky snickered and rubbed a hand down her shin, squeezing her ankle lightly. "Yeah, 'cause I can't buy my own tickets."

"Boo to you," she whined and huddled over her tablet. "Ruin every scrap of fun I have."

He drew a meep of surprise from her when he pulled on her leg, drawing her down the couch. Flailing a little at the sudden move, she found herself flat on her back under a looming and impressive assassin. He had one hand braced on the back of the couch, and the other on the arm above her head. It was … a breathtaking view.

"Yep," he said, smirking. "Ruining your fun, that's me."

Letting out a long breath, she poked at his chest; not hard, only just enough to appreciate the closeness and solidness of his pecs. He wasn't the biggest guy she knew, but wow, he really knew how to work the upper body. And, she was free to grope at will. In a not creepy way. Hooray dating.

"You are in an interesting mood today," she murmured, still examining his chest. The gray henley was really well fitting. And probably brought out the blue in his eyes, but she was focused elsewhere.

"Nobody's shooting at us," he said, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Nobody is torturing us." Another kiss on the other side of her mouth. "Nobody is trying to blow us up." His lips landed solidly on hers, but before she could make it a real kiss he drew back with a smile. "Nobody is—"

Her phone rang and he turned his head towards the device with a growl. A real, deep, animal growl. Darcy couldn't help it, she laughed.

"Of course." Grabbing his chin, she turned his face back to her and captured his lips with hers. She was getting her kiss, interruptions be damned. But, the phone kept ringing and it was Phil's ringtone and there was only so long they could ignore the Director.

"I hate Coulson," Bucky grumbled against her cheek. "I hate him a lot."

"But, he's such a big fan of yours." She shoved at his chest, but regretfully this time it was less about feeling him up and more about moving him out of the way.

He didn't move far, just slid to the side, squeezing between her and the back of the couch. Shoving his bristly chin against the side of her neck, he grumbled darkly, swearing in Russian, while she fumbled for the phone.

"This better be a planet-wide emergency, Phil," Darcy greeted with a groan.

"I need you to go to Japan," he greeted. "I'm sending you the file."

"Bucky wants you to know that he hates you."

"That's too bad," Phil said, his voice bland and unbothered by the fact that one of his childhood heroes hated him. "I'd like to do a video brief in half an hour."

"You're interrupting his baseball day," Darcy pressed.

"Baseball lasts for a half the year. Did you know I played second in little league?"

"No."

"Read the file, briefing in thirty." Phil hung up and Darcy dropped her phone on the floor and patted the side of Bucky's head.

"I hate him," Bucky muttered.

"Me, too. Briefing in thirty." She squirmed away from her partner and rubbed a hand over her eyes, trying to shake off the haze of 'attractive man and his kissing and attractiveness and such'. "I think we need to sweep your apartment for cameras."

"Why?" Bucky shoved himself up and flopped back over to his side of the couch.

"His timing is too … suspicious." She glared up at a likely corner of the room. "I bet he's colluding with my dad."

"I think you're paranoid."

"Is it paranoid when we work for a spy agency? And my dad is a big nosy, nudnik?"

"Probably," he said with a dry chuckle. "So, briefing? Where are we going?"

Darcy glared sourly and pulled her tablet out from where it got stuck between the couch cushions. "Japan."

"Sounds fun. I like Japan."

Darcy closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. "And now you've cursed it."

So much for a quiet Saturday. Boo.

[rigginsstreet]

fred/fp, michael and maria

fred/fp:

• when or if I started shipping it.: before their episode even aired lmfao all i had to hear was “skeet ulrich and luke perry have scenes together” and i was like “welp, guess im watching riverdale now”• my thoughts: so many.... im just really emotional about these two cuz the history is so rich and deep but the writers aint gonna do shit with it and theres so much potential just being wasted so instead i gotta sit here and cry about headcanons. they deserve better, im so upset• What makes me happy about them: that fp is so ride or die for fred still to this day. like homeboy was straight up like “i heard your construction company was in trouble so i gathered up a bunch of my boys and we’re here to help you out”. what an icon. and like can you imagine how happy they mustve been in high school? fp literally saying it was the best time of his life??? im so emo• What makes me sad about them: WHAT DOESNT MAKE ME SAD !!!! IM SAD ALL THE TIME !!! just apply everything i said earlier to this question. also the fact despite fp clearly trying to better himself and all the progress he was making, fred was like “nah he murdered jason and he’s wrecking everybodys lives” like wow rude excuse you im never forgiving the writers also i demand a scene with fred owning up to being wrong and i need him to apologize to jughead and fp but that aint happening so...• things done in art/fic that annoys me: theres so little fic out and for the most part its all done in character and really well so i dont have much if anyone to complain about. what i will complain about is people writing fics of the parents in general where theres just no romantic feelings between those two like lmao yall wild• things I look for in art/fic: that it exists.... honestly the fandom is so small i cant afford to be picky i will literally take anything anyone gives me • Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: i wouldnt mind fp and alice becoming a thing but that wont happen either cuz of b*ghead. i cant even have my backup fp ship become canon this show is annoying (also this is completely just me but if riverdale wanted to cast johnny whitworth to be fp’s serpent boyfriend...wouldnt be opposed to that. in fact i welcome it)  and for fred id want him and mary to get back together• My happily ever after for them: GOD that they actually became canon and moved in together with their sons and their dogs and were just finally happy and at peace and not having to worry about shit all the time and they can just be happy domesticated dads like please theyre both so tired let them rest• what is their favorite non-sexual activity?: on nice sunny days theyll have a cookout with archie and jughead, classic rock playing throughout the house. sometimes fp breaks out his guitar and coaxes fred into singing along with him

michael/maria:

• when or if I started shipping it.: probably started shipping them immediately • my thoughts: theyre so beautiful. my kids. realistically michael could be a better boyfriend but he’s doing his best lmao my poor tortured son. and maria being his sun. i love them• What makes me happy about them: i love their build up. the whole “we hate each other and banter all the time” to “youre literally the only person for me” is everything. those crazy kids they love each other so much• What makes me sad about them: that i didnt get to see a wedding between those two. eats me up inside. • things done in art/fic that annoys me: i think ive only read one maybe two fics about them and they were both fine so i cant comment• things I look for in art/fic: ^^ i dont read fic for them and i havent seen any art beyond gifsets and fanvids• Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: if they HAD to be with other people honestly id take max and michael and maria and isabel. or maria and liz. those are the only options• My happily ever after for them: that theyre settled. dont have to be on the run anymore. own their own business. are successful. have little half human half alien babies running around• what is their favorite non-sexual activity?: michael loves listening to maria sing. he could do it for hours