#like please go pick up a fucking newspaper holy shit

[kagazuka]

literacy is so dead

[lasseizlesbontempsrouler]

California/Florida

-👻

hmmmmmmmmmmMMM

florida makes hot jokes to california all the time

they fly over cali's head

florida makes wet jokes about himself

california hits him with a rolled up newspaper

they went ice skating for their first date

florida's super good at it! a natural

california's good at it too, but he always shakes

like a little baby deer little fawn

they go see movies a lot

florida picks either kids movies or the weirdest shit out

california has a jean jacket that florida paints on

florida gets california goldfish

he also buys decorations

the october date nights are superior

please they go to haunted houses and shit

they dress up for it!

on the night of halloween ones

florida is a sheet ghost with sunglasses

california is a scarecrow

florida makes so many stupid jokes and california is just "how the fuck did i fall in love with this idiot"

florida steals california's glasses and just

"holy shit why do you wear glasses your vision is fine"

little did he know that florida actually needed glasses

they're both obsessed with trail mix

they go on hikes!

but they're not a workout couple oh dear god no

[fruitcoops]

I have a request. :) What if coops were watching a scary movie together and Sirius is getting actually scared so he is just trying not to watch and cuddle into Remus instead. But he is too embarrassed to ask Remus to turn it off so he just tries to suffer through it. You can decide if you want Remus to notice and turn it off and comfort him or not. Thank you for all of your amazing writing!

This is such a cute ask, and lots of fun to write! Thanks for suggesting it <3 Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Hattie is mine!

TW for mentioned blood and gore (in the movie) and general fear

“That’s a lot of blood,” Remus remarked.

Personally, Sirius thought that was a bit of an understatement considering the gorefest happening on the screen, but he had been terrified into silence twenty minutes before and simply nodded in response.

The shrieking, wailing, and rending of various body parts continued. Hattie whined and buried her nose further into the small of his back. Smart girl, Sirius thought, cuddling just slightly closer to Remus’ side. The horror movie had been a last-minute, pick something or we’ll both be frustrated decision—now, an hour into the worst television experience of his life, he regretted every choice he had made that led them to this spot.

He turned to place a kiss just below Remus’ ear. If it also served to hide his face from the literal demonic entity that just popped out of nowhere…well, that was nobody’s business but his own. “Hey, I’m kinda tired,” he mumbled, though every nerve was alight with fear and he wasn’t sure his eyelids would ever shut again.

“Oh?” Remus kept his gaze on the screen. I love you, but you confuse and terrify me.

“Mhmm. How much is left?”

Remus picked up the remote; half a second before he paused, one of the lead characters got fucking stabbed in the back by something that had not been there mere moments earlier. Sirius jolted, stifling a shout of surprise. Remus remained absolutely still. “Whew, that was a good one,” he said mildly as Sirius struggled to regain control of his stuttering heartbeat. “Just under fifty minutes left.”

Why am I doing this? Sirius wondered internally. I have nothing to prove.

“The effects are pretty impressive, huh?”

Sirius hummed vague assent.

“No CGI or anything. Pretty cool.”

“No, yeah, definitely.”

Bones weren’t supposed to do that. Kids certainly weren’t supposed to bend like that. Sirius’ mouth was drier than desert sand and he gave up on dignity, squishing himself as close as possible under the safe haven of Remus’ arm. “The, uh—” Remus was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream that froze Sirius from the inside out. He cleared his throat. “The��I heard the director has been trying to make this for ages. It was in the newspaper last week and everything.”

“Was it?” Sirius’ voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

“Uh-huh.” Please keep talking, please keep talking, please keep talking. “Sorry, I’m probably ruining this for you.”

“No, you’re all good.” You are the only thing keeping me from crawling under the blankets with the dog.

They lapsed back into silence and Sirius squeezed his eyes shut as what was left of the main group turned their backs to the basement. The creepy-ass door was going to open—yep, there’s the creak—and then they were going to go down the rickety staircase, and then everyone was either going to die or be traumatized for life. No matter how formulaic it was, Sirius still felt ice trickle down his spine.

The next forty-five minutes passed at a glacial pace. More blood than Sirius could have imagined spattered the set, and he had stopped trying to follow the plot entirely so he could zone out instead. “Ready for bed?” Remus asked as the credits rolled, sounding entirely unfazed. Hattie crawled into their laps with a soft snuffle. “Oh, lovey, were you scared?”

Yes. “Poor thing,” Sirius cooed with as much control as he could muster, lifting her up to hide his shaky arms. Remus ducked into the kitchen to put away the popcorn bowl; as soon as he was out of earshot, Sirius leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You and me both, ma petite. You’re sleeping on the bed with us tonight.”

“What?” Remus called from the kitchen.

“Oh, nothing.” He set Hattie down. “I’ll be upstairs when you’re done.”

Sirius made it to the base of the staircase, then paused. The hallway at the top was dark; fear prickled the back of his neck. There’s no such thing as demons, he told himself, grabbing the bannister. His palms were sweating. Nothing to be afraid of. “Honey?”

“Merde!” he yelped, letting go as if it had burned him.

Remus gave him a look of alarm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—” He flailed a hand around, pulse pounding in his throat. “Just thought I saw a spider. Startled me.”

“…alright.”

He turned the lights on as soon as they reached the landing. Sirius had never been so grateful for the power of modern electricity. The hall was just as they had left it, looking ridiculously normal and unthreatening—embarrassment reddened his cheeks as he changed into his pajamas. Scared of your own house? Really?

Well, that wasn’t quite true—he wasn’t scared of the house itself, just the murderous entities that may or may not be living in the dryer vents. That was all.

He was feeling better until Remus turned the lights off and slipped into bed beside him, leaning over for a ‘goodnight�� kiss. “Sleep well, baby,” he said, resting his temple on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Love you.”

The trees swaying outside looked like long, bony fingers; if he concentrated, he could hear low weeping in the wind. Sirius felt an irrational fear rise when he tried to close his eyes and focus on Remus’ slow breaths—what if he woke up and there was something in the doorway? What if he had nightmares? What if his fear wasn’t irrational at all, and there was an omen he was missing—

“Sirius?”

“Yeah?” he whispered back.

Remus hesitated, then exhaled through his nose. “Can we turn the light on?”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Sirius said around a sigh of relief. “Yes. Also, please never suggest a horror movie ever again.”

“I hate them,” Remus confessed as they sat up. “I saw a commercial for The Conjuring in seventh grade and had nightmares for two full months.”

“Why did you recommend it?”

“I thought you liked them!”

“I was about to hide under the couch!” Sirius laughed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Mon dieu, that was the w—holy shit!”

The fuzzy thing under his foot made a high-pitched noise and moved; Sirius scrambled back with a strangled shout, nearly toppling them both over the other side. Remus clung to him as they both shrieked in sheer panic until the only sound was their heavy breathing. The shadow by the edge of the bed shifted again, then whined.

Sirius groaned, releasing his death grip. “Really, Hat Trick?”

“You’re kidding.”

“Viens ici.” He patted the side of the bed and the blob of inky black hopped up, then settled at the foot of the bed with an indignant huff. “Did I step on you?”

Hattie grumbled and stretched her long body across the mattress. Remus turned the bedside lamp on, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. “Well, that was mortifying.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, but I don’t really want to go back downstairs.”

Remus laid on his back and held out his arms. “Cuddles?”

“You read my mind.”

They snuggled up to each other as tight as they could, leaving only a sliver of space between their bodies as Hattie warmed their feet. Sirius kissed the top of Remus’ head once before closing his eyes once more; they laid in silence for a moment longer, then let out twin sighs as he pulled the covers all the way up to their necks to create a cocoon of warmth and safety. The soft glow of the lamp chased away the shadows, and within a few minutes he fell into a dreamless sleep.

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

We All Need Saving Sometimes - Kaz Brekker x male! Reader

A/n: I don't even know why this took me so long to write because this was so fun! Anyways sorry it took so long!

Warnings: Violence? + Language (it is me you should expect it at this point!?

Request: Hiiii, I just discovered your account and I love it! I've been searching for shadow and bone x Male readers but there aren't that many so I figured I could request one 😅 I was thinking about a Male reader x Kaz Brekker, maybe the reader is like a vigilante and saves Kaz or something like that. Just do whatever you want with it :)))

(The reader is kind of like Nightwing btw)

The blood rushed through his veins as he swung around and smashed the crime boss in the face. Adrenaline courses through him as the man stumbles back and he takes a few steps forward.

"I- Please, I-I'll do-do anything! Please!" Y/n just rolls his eyes and cuffs him to the pole on the top of some random Ketterdam building with his special handcuffs. Although this thug isn't very skilled at pickpocketing much less pick locking so he really didn't need to use it. Either way, the man wouldn't be able to leave till the stadwatch could come to get him or he would die from dehydration.

Well, he did say Ketterdam.

He jumped from the building still hearing the pleas of the older crime (failing) boss. Some considered him a hero, some did not. He was kind of in the middle, he would kill (like he said this is Ketterdam for ghezen sake!) But sometimes he would let them go. Most of the time his vigilante persona - Inferno, was just so he could keep the innocent children out of the way of the crime schemes that happen in this totally lovely city.

The thing with Y/n was that his superhero persona, Inferno was a tad bit different from himself normally. Inferno could be described as calculative, cool, and intellectual.

When he was just the L/n boy though... He's clumsy, anxiety-ridden, and what some would call a classic 'nerd' case, to name a few. Trust Y/n when he said this; he wasn't a mental case it just both of the sides were him but... Not always completely him. Inferno and L/n were two sides to him that only really did have two things in common; their terrible corny jokes, and never ever doing something without thinking about it first.

So he didn't know why he did it. Why he jumped off that building landing headfirst in a fight to help some strange teenager with a cane. All he knew was when he took one look at the teen he didn't even think he just did.

A man tried to swing a weak left hook at Inferno but he just rolled his eyes and dodged gracefully and judo flipped him onto his back, his face letting out a satisfying CRUNCH! As his foot put all its pressure on the man's disgusting face. While the man scream's out in pain he turns his attention to the two others. The teenager seemed to have one all he had to do was get the oth- WAIT IS THAT KAZ BREKKER?!!

A punch is delivered to Inferno's face and he feels rage build up inside him. Fuck this shit he's done. He goes full in and tackles the other man that's not attacking the Brekker boy and with his rage the man's dead in seconds. Welp, he would just have to add that to the number that he can't remember how many people he's killed.

The answer would be a lot, but hey! He did say protecting the (innocent) children and teens were off and on, apparently, it was on today.

He hears a giant wack! And he turns around just in time to see the other attacker fall to the ground and for the boy to withdraw his cane.

"I didn't need your help."

Inferno roll's his eyes and nods sarcastically; "Sure Brekker, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Who says I sleep?"

"Well, we're on the same boat for that one buddy!" I laugh and I could feel L/n slipping through Inferno almost like they were finally coming together after meeting this young criminal. But why?

"Don't mention this to anyone or I'll have your head." The Brekker boy says threateningly, well it would be to anyone else if they weren't so entranced by him. (Cough, cough, Y/n.)

"Hey, I saved you!"

"I thought you only saved children?" Then at that moment, their eyes meet and Y/n can see right through his soul. His eyes are cold, but they're so hypnotic and they make him fall for this bastard of the barrel. They both seem to come closer till there almost chest to chest, it was like an invisible magnetic force was pulling them together.

"We all need saving sometimes, Brekker," Y/n whispered and Brekker turned his head away probably trying to recollect himself.

"Call me Kaz please." Y/n knew that Dirtyhands wasn't polite nor did he beg. But this wasn't Kaz Brekker neither was it Dirtyhands. This is a scared boy who was peaking out and Y/n was holding out his head and he thinks he just took it.

"I Have an offer for you. Meet me at the Waffle House near the fountain. of Crows at six."

Y/n raise's his eyebrow and a slow smile crawls upon his face. "Oh, it's a date then Brekk- Kaz!" He jokes.

Kaz rolls his eyes. "Just remember who I am Inferno."

So Kaz hasn't figured out that Y/n was Inferno, give Brekker about a day and he would probably figure out his identity. But an unusual feeling spread across Y/n's chest and he observed it wasn't panic that Kaz would find out who he really was. He couldn't place what the feeling was just yet but he discovered that he trusted Kaz.

And that was more terrifying than any villain.

"Just count yourself lucky you don't owe me anything after saving your ass!"

Kaz just rolls his eyes at the statement and starts walking away from Y/n but pausing midway just almost out of his line of vision.

Without turning his head Kaz yells; "You Better not be late for our date L/n!"

Y/n's eyes widen and any confidence that might have been there was wiped away with just a few words and he's left in a flustered mess. Not even realizing that he had already figured out who he really was outside of his superhero persona.

He's frozen, going through Brekker's words over and over again trying to comprehend what the hell just happened.

Holy fuck he just got a date with Dirtyhands.

Fate must have been up to something but whatever it was he was ready and with a grin, Y/n took off into the night.

Bouns:

"This way sir." A petite but kind lady walks him towards a table where there it was - the bastard of the barrel, someone who he could be himself and join his two half of himself together without pressure was there.

He was actually there.

And he, Y/n L/n was late.

He carefully slid into the booth seat on the opposite side of Kaz examining the boy in front of him. He was holding a newspaper, his hat was drawn forward enough so it could cover his eyes and he didn't even acknowledge him.

Just at that moment he place's the newspaper down and raises an eyebrow at the L/n boy.

"Your late L/n."

A sly smirk plays on Y/n's face as he remembered what Kaz had told him before hand in there last visit. Fate really did have a funny way of doing things.

"Oh Please Kaz." He leans forward so now they're both eye to eye.

"Call me Y/n."

Words 1217

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover

[the-final-sif]

I was thinking about different way the league could try to kidnap Katsuki and thought what if they just adopted him. Like got the paperwork filled it out (using an alias) and just battled the Bakugous for custody. Yeah, they're villians, but the paperwork checks out, and they can provide all necessary essentials, and maybe the Bakugous aren't the best parents.

This idea is extremely funny to me, and so I tried to think of a way it could work out that even kinda makes sense. After talking about it in the discord, I think I figured it out. (Set after USJ & sports festival, but pre-any kidnapping stuff)

We’re going to assume Bad Parents!Bakugous, with the situation being bad enough Katsuki is removed from their custody. The plan was for Aizawa / UA to take custody of him after that.

Only, there’s 1 tiny flaw in that plan. Katsuki’s quirk.

See, Katsuki’s quirk is considered a ‘dangerous’ quirk. 99% of the time this doesn’t matter, but there’s an old law regarding child custody that comes into play with dangerous quirks.

The law basically says that if a child has a ‘dangerous’ quirk, and their removed from their birth family’s custody, other relatives MUST be contacted to see if they are willing + capable of taking custody of the child. Even distant relatives.

Furthermore, if a relative wants the child (and passes a few other criteria), then they are all but guaranteed custody, even if there’s other circumstances that would usually prevent it. If the relative has a similar quirk to the child, that boosts their chances even further / offers extra protections.

The law was created during an earlier period of quirks, when ‘dangerous’ quirks were extremely hard to handle, and usually only family members with similar quirks could do it. It’s not a great law, but nobody’s gotten around to removing it since it doesn’t come into play often.

But of course, Katsuki isn’t so lucky. He has three relatives that have to be contacted and decline custody of him before Aizawa can claim it. He’s never met any of these people, has never had much contact with any extended family, but now he has to wait for them to say no before he can move on with this bullshit.

Two are easy enough, both are great uncles or something similar and live in assisted living facilities. Neither have the interest / capacity for Katsuki.

And then there’s Katsuki’s distant cousin on his dad’s side.

Honestly, it’s such bullshit. The guy went missing ages ago. His whole family was confirmed dead, but apparently the guy himself wasn’t, and since he’s still considered alive, they have to at least try to contact him.

A newspaper ad goes up for “Tenko Shimura”, there’s a 15 day waiting period while the ad runs, and then they should finally be free to move on.

Except, holy shit, turns out the guy isn’t actually dead.

He saw the newspaper ad, and actually calls in out of curiosity.

Katsuki is taken off guard and relieved, because the guy will say no, and then they can finish this, right?

Right?

Only, the guy doesn’t say no.

He doesn’t say yes either, but he asks to be put in contact with Katsuki so he can discuss it.

Katsuki is so done with all of this, but he agrees to talk to the guy hoping to convince him it’s fine for Aizawa / UA to take custody.

Tenko & Katsuki talk on the phone for an hour, and by the end of their first conversation, Tenko isn’t convinced it’s fine and now Katsuki isn’t either.

Because, fuck, the guy actually sounded nice. And nothing he said was wrong either. Tenko was worried about the sports festival (and Katsuki has to admit, hearing an adult express concern for him & tell him what happened to him was bad for the very first time took a weight off his shoulders he hadn’t known he was carrying), he was worried about how UA had handled him so far, and he was worried what would happen if Katsuki didn’t have any outside figures to turn to in the future.

Several long phone calls later, including one between Aizawa & Tenko, and it’s been decided. While Katsuki will be staying at UA and living primarily in the dorms set up for international students (since Tenko lives quite a ways away), custody of him will be going to Tenko.

Aizawa isn’t exactly happy about it, but that law gives Tenko the first claim, and he has to admit that Tenko raises quite a few good points. After having spoken to him at length, Aizawa feels like he has Katsuki’s best interests in mind too.

Paperwork goes through, things are set in motion, and in the meantime, Katsuki keeps calling / texting with Tenko, slowly growing closer to his cousin. Turns out the two have a lot in common.

Tenko also have family issues and was adopted, which is why he appeared to go “missing”. In reality he’s just been living under a different name. His quirk is apparently related to his hands and also considered ‘dangerous’ although he doesn’t like to discuss it, and he and Katsuki are both very blunt people, meaning they get along great.

Finally, everything is said and done, and Katsuki is going to go on a weekend trip up to where Tenko lives to meet him in person for the very first time. He’s given a train station and told he’ll be met there, and he’s honestly kinda excited for it.

Throughout the court case, Aizawa was the only one from UA allowed to have access to all the records / be in contact with Tenko. He couldn’t even discuss things with anyone else.

Now it’s all over though, he’s in the staff room and only half engaged in the current planning session. Mostly focused on his phone / checking in with Katsuki.

Mic teases him about being worried, and Aizawa just mumbles that he’s still kinda unsure of this ‘Shimura’ guy.

All-Might, who is also at this meeting, does a spit take.

It takes several seconds for him to regain himself.

He’s sure he must’ve just misheard though.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I just got confused about something for a moment. What did you say the name of Katsuki's new parent was again?"

 “The guy’s legal name is Tenko Shimura, although he apparently stopped going by that awhile ago, which was why he came up as missing. He responded to a newspaper ad though and was able to verify his identity."

All-Might.exe has stopped working.

It has to be a coincidence. There's no way.

"Tenko... Shimura? His name, uh, well I used to know someone by that name. How old was he again? And why was he chosen?"

Aizawa is a little confused, but still not concerned, he just assumes All-Might happened to know the guy.

"He's 20, which is young to be taking on a kid, but he's properly prepared for. It was the quirk-relation law that set it in stone. Shimura is a distant cousin and has similar quirk to Katsuki, the specifics were a little hazy, but a dangerous hand-related quirk. Why?"

All-Might needs several seconds before he can speak.

“Tenko Shimura is Tomura Shigaraki.”

“... What?”

“Tenko Shimura, that was Tomura Shigaraki’s birth name. That’s- That’s him. There’s nobody else that could be.”

“WHAT?!”

Yeah, so they try to get in contact with Katsuki but it’s too late, Kurogiri already ‘picked him up’ and his phone is not working in the underground area he’s in.

Anyways, so Tomura introduces himself, and Katsuki spends awhile trying to fight him but not really getting anywhere until Tomura is finally able to convince him to let Tomura explain himself.

Katsuki is Upset, but also wants Answers.

Tomura reveals that he never lied, he was Tenko Shimura, and everything he told Katsuki was true. Truths were certainly omitted, but he never lied. And he has no bad intentions towards Katsuki.

He saw the newspaper ad, and having seen what happened at the sports festival, felt compelled to step in. He promises he just wants to be a good guardian.

And Katsuki does not want to believe that. He doesn’t.

Except, at the end of their scheduled time, Tomura just,,,, lets him go. No demands that Katsuki can’t tell anyone what happened, no threats, nothing.

Kurogiri just teleports him back out to some place near UA and bids him goodnight, very pleased to see Tomura taking this seriously & that he now has a grandchild.

Katsuki shows back up at UA, after 12 hours of them searching for him frantically, and he’s just as confused as they are.

Obviously, they try to remove custody from Tomura after that.

Problem: They can’t.

Between the bullshit law from before, and the fact Tomura has never actually been caught / arrested / charged with a crime, they legally cannot remove Katsuki from Tomura’s custody.

He would have to fail as a guardian for Katsuki in order for them to remove him. Until then, he’s got custody.

This is just something they’re going to have to live with.

Katsuki Is So Done.

When he goes into class on Monday, a very excited Kirishima greets him.

"So dude? How did visiting your cousin go? What was he like?"

"You know that guy who attacked us at USJ? The guy with the creepy hands who almost killed Aizawa?" 

“... Uh, yeah?”

“Turns out that’s my cousin.”

"Oh my god! What the hell dude! Are you okay???"

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Welcome to the Katsuki Shimura AU, where Katsuki’s life is weird and Parent-Teacher conferences get fucking awkward.

[angelhummel]

have you got any ideas on how pezberry would fit into canon?

a few!

the most optimistic version is that they get together in s3. Rachel has some common fucking sense and breaks up with Finn after HE FUCKING OUTS SANTANA holy shit. Then maybe she can support Santana during her whole outing and getting shunned by her abuela. She invites Santana around her house and she meets Rachel's dads, and gets to feel a bigger sense of community and see that things really will get better and she still has a future even if things still seem bleak now. And Santana still picks out those earrings for Rachel for a gift (bc that's canon and it's so sweet) to say thank you for all she's done. And they grow closer and have a sweet relationship in s3 and they sing So Emotional to/with one another and Santana comes to NY right away and it goes from there

Maybe another version where they get closer in s3. Like Santana helps Finn pick out the earrings as per canon but Rachel knows Santana was the one behind them and she thanks her for that. They sing all their gay ass duets, have a good friendship, then maybe hook up near the end of s3 (around prom time) and it's kind of awkward and they don't know how to proceed from there and maybe they go their separate ways. So Santana actually has a reason for not going to NY bc you know it's such a small town she'd be running into Rachel all the time. But then they see each other again I guess during Glease bc they're both back in Ohio and they start to talk things out. Then in Thanksgiving Santana is still like "has anyone heard from Rachel?" and decides to call her herself during the break. Then maybe she still comes to talk to her in Naked and they have a nice time and things aren't as awkward anymore. Then they hook up at the wedding and they're like "this is messy and complicated and idk what's going on but it'd be a lot easier to figure it out if we were at least in the same state" so that's when Santana moves to NY and they officially start dating

Third option is Santana moves to NY at the beginning of s4 so she and Rachel (and Kurt) are roomies. So Rachel and Santana's friendship is growing alongside Rachel's budding relationship with Brody. And Santana HATES Brody and is determined to prove he's a creep and is always trash talking him etc etc. And at one point Rachel blows up at her and is like "Why do you care so much anyway??" and then we and Rachel realize that it's bc Santana is jealous. So Brody eventually leaves the picture but doesn't get beaten up please god and then Santana helps heal Rachel's broken heart and of course they get together after that

Fourth, canon basically happens up until mid s5. Santana auditions for Rachel's understudy and Rachel gets the wrong idea which causes Santana to freeze up again and things are tense and angry and they're back to bickering. Maybe Rachel goes to stay with Elliott while things calm down but doesn't move out bc that's insane. But they finally talk things out when they're back in Ohio. Santana explains that she just wanted to work with Rachel and she thought Rachel would be down right flattered to know Santana wanted to follow her career footsteps and Rachel explains that she just felt like Santana was trying to overshadow her. But they understand each other's pov's and apologize and actually make up. So they go back to NY and work together and things are mended and they grow closer and then opening night happens and Santana gets Rachel flowers and Rachel gets Santana flowers even tho she isn't even performing and Santana tells Rachel to break a leg and Rachel kisses her and then they're gfs from the end of s5 all thru s6

Fifth. Same as above but they don't make up in 5x13 and Santana leaves and goes off with Brittany. But she comes back to NY for Rachel's opening night and they talk after the show and after the club, before they go to check the reviews in the newspaper. Basically insert this where the Sue bullshit was. And Santana says she tried to reunite with Brittany but things weren't right and they knew they were better off apart. And Rachel asks her to stay in NY bc it's where she belongs. And Santana agrees but maybe decides to move in with Mercedes. So things are still fragile and a little tense but they're working thru everything. Baby steps. And then start dating in s6

Umm so yeah those are a few ideas. These are a mix of things I just made up off the cuff, and things I've basically written full fics for in my head lol. So I hope you enjoy the ideas <3

[hops-hunny]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 8

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: none!

A/N: sorry it took me so long. The rest of the date will be in chapter 9! 

(Y/n) huffed, crossing her arms across her chest at the mess Twyla had made. Originally, she had thought asking her to help her get ready for her date was a good idea. The two of them hadn’t spent as much time together as she had liked too and she knew how much Twyla adored fashion. But now, as her various designer dresses and shoes were scattered around the floor along with makeup palettes that had been tossed aimlessly, her patience was wearing thin.

“Was this mess really necessary? I hope you know I’m not cleaning this.” she said, causing the girl to turn around. She tossed a dress on the bed beside the girl before continuing to sift through the manmade jungle she had caused.

“I know. Neither am I, that’s what the maids are for!” she turned, watching as her friend bit at her lip nervously, picking with the skin around the bed of her fingernails. “You know for someone going on her first date, I seem more excited than you do!” when she didn’t get a response she looked over at her shoulder giving her a concerned look.

“I-it’s not that I’m not excited! Trust me, I am. I’ve been waiting for this date for over 7 years. It’s just..” she sighed, looking away from her as her cheeks heated up in embarrassment. “What do you even do on a date? O-or say? What am I supposed to wear?!”

“A good date will flow naturally no matter what you’re doing. And you said Nev was taking you to some fancy restaurant but also on a gondola ride, right? Pick out a dress that’s fancy but also gives you flexibility. Hold up, lemme look I think I saw the perfect dress.” Twyla dove back into the pile of clothes, causing her to giggle at the sight. She continued to lift and throw things until she popped up letting out a loud ‘A-ha!’ she watched as the dress was tossed on the bed along with a pretty pair of strappy white sandals and a purse in the same shade of white. Once she picked the items up, Twyla began to shove her towards the bathroom with the items.

(Y/n) looked in the mirror, letting out a shaky breath. She felt beautiful, undeniably so. Twyla had already taken the liberty of styling her hair and doing her makeup. They had gone for a natural but ethereal makeup look. Dewy foundation, subtle but glowly highlight, a thick layer of gloss along with some individual lashes to make her eyes pop. She felt like a fairy, a princess even. Reaching a jittery hand towards the doorknob, she opened it peaking her head out. Twyla looked up smiling before her jaw dropped at the sight of her friend’s full appearance. Squealing she walked up to her, twirling her around to admire the full look. Sure, she had seen her in a dress before, and even makeup. But this outfit, this look, was much more like her. Yet Twyla couldn’t help but feel as though something was missing.

“Hmm.” she trailed, eyes gazing across the room. Her eyes lit up at the sight of what it was. The diamond encrusted crown lay gently on top of a velvet pillow along with the diamond necklace and earrings. She handed the earrings to (Y/n) to put on before placing the crown on top of her head. Turning her around towards the vanity, she unclasped the priceless necklace before placing it around her neck. “Oh my…(Y/n) you look so beautiful! Like a, like a princess.” she felt her ears tingle from her kind words, smiling as she admired her appearance in the mirror.

“Now, let’s talk lingerie.”

----------------------------

“Didn’t peg you for the nervous type, boss.” Blaise piped up, chuckling as Neville fiddled with his tie for what seemed like the thousandth time. He glared at the man through the mirror, grumbling under his breath. Blaise wasn’t wrong, he rarely was. The bigger problem at hand was that he was nervous and he didn’t know how to handle it. Neville had punched some of the most powerful men in the face, made people gravel and beg for their lives, hell, he had even killed men and throughout all of that, he had not an ounce of nervousness in his system. But now, when he was taking the little baker girl who he had been madly in love with since they met in school all those years ago, nervous was the main thing he felt. He was excited, sure, plenty, but in actuality he had never been on a real date with someone he had feelings for.

“Do you even know what to do on a date? You were quite the playboy before she came back into your life.” Ron added, mixing around the scotch in his glass, pouring some for Neville who instantly downed it, not even wincing at the taste.

“ ‘S not true!” he said, turning his head some to glare at him. Seamus cackled, wiping the invisible tears in his eyes as he slapped his knee.

“Please boss, you went through more women than George does bullets on a mission, which is a fuck ton.” he said, causing everyone else to agree. The guys had all gathered in the spare room to help him get ready, calming his nerves and even giving him a few pointers. Although a lot of the advice was useless, he was able to make sense out of some of it.

“Okay, well, suppose I am nervous. How should I...what should I do on a date?” he asked, coughing over the last part to cover it up. They all heard loud and clear though, starting to overlap one another before Blaise whistled, causing everyone to silence. Neville gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

“Well, did you buy her flowers?” Draco asked, breaking the silence. He scoffed at the ridiculous question.

“Of course I got her flowers! Did you really ask me of all people that? I picked and charmed a bouquet for her the other night. Each flower was handpicked from my garden with intention behind every single one of them.” he rolled up one of his sleeves, seeing if he preferred them rolled or down. Pondering it he decided to roll them down.

“Well combine that with what we’ve taught you and you’re all set.” Harry said, shrugging some as he looked up from his newspaper. Neville gawked at the men. Taught? The only thing they had taught him was that he needed better friends!

“Taught me?” he let out an exasperated laugh, walking towards them. “Taught me? You haven’t taught me shit! I’d have half the mind to-” a knock on the door caused his breath to hitch. The boys all gave each other knowing smirks but their jaws dropped as the door opened revealing the (h/c) girl in all her glory.

There she stood, skin glowing in the soft streams of sunlight that came from the evening Italian sun. The soft lace and tulle draped across her skin delicately, bits of sparkles from the fabric shining brightly. What caught his eye the most was the crown on her head. Even though he had saw it on her yesterday, it was having the same effect on him today. 

“Holy shit.” Seamus whispered, forcing his mouth closed. Not a single pair of eyes weren’t on her.

“Listen, if Nev fucks his date up tonight…” Blaise trailed, causing the girl to giggle, looking at the ground shyly. She glanced up at him through thick lashes, watching as he made his way over to her. He bowed, pressing a kiss to her knuckles causing her to giggle some. As he looked up at her, a soft barely there smile graced his face.

“I don’t think that’ll be happening.” he said as he stood up, grabbing the bouquet of flowers from behind him before handing them to her. “What are you doing here, petal? I said I’d come get you from the room.”

“Twyla was really adamant about you seeing me as soon as possible.” she smiled at the scene that had taken place a few moments beforehand. “She said that I looked too good to be kept waiting.”

“You know, that girl’s always speaking nonsense but for once I’ve gotta say I agree.” Neville said, stroking her cheek gently as he leaned down, placing a soft peck on her lips. “Ready to go?” he asked. She nodded eagerly, wrapping her arms around his arm, waving before exiting the room with him. Seamus watched as they left before standing up, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Where are you going, Finnigan?” Harry asked, quirking a brow at him. Seamus smiled, winking some.

“Launching operation ‘make sure the date goes well’. You didn’t think I was gonna miss out on this did you?” Draco eyed him suspiciously as the vein in his forehead began to throb.

“Twyla set you up to this, didn’t she?” Seamus turned once he got to the doorway, flashing him a smile.

“ ‘Course she did!”

------------------------------

“Woah! I’ve never seen a car like this in person before.” (Y/n) said, in awe as she walked up to the vintage car. Neville smiled some as the driver came over, bowing as he opened up the door. He slid the driver a large bill, thanking him in italian.

“Yeah, you like it?” she nodded, looking back at him as he climbed in the back of the convertible with her. He pulled her into his side, pulling his Dior sunglasses over his eyes to protect from the evening sun. “It’s mine. Should I have it imported back to England?” her eyes widened. Although Neville had a lot of nice things, she never failed to be surprised when he had something new to show her. She leaned into his side, pulling her legs up onto the seat as the car began to move.

“It’s pretty. I think you should leave it here though. You know, as a memory of tonight.” She looked up at him, smiling some. Neville felt his heart race as he looked down at her. He felt breathless. Whatever he had done in the past years to have the angel of his dreams sitting next to him, going on a date, he’d do it all over again just to see the smile she was giving him. He leaned down, capturing her lips into a passionate yet loving kiss. Their lips locked till they were practically breathless, pulling away. (Y/n) let out a breathless giggle. 

Neville pulled out another large bill, leaning forward to hand it to the driver. “Guida piano, sì?” the driver looked at him through the visor mirror, giving him a nod along with a knowing smirk. He sighed to himself as Neville turned back to the girl, laughing at something she had said.

“Ah, giovane amore.”

--------------------------------

Neville opened the door for the girl, holding her hand as she stepped out of the car. He decided first that they could get dinner. It’d be an easy way to set the tone for tonight and give him another opportunity to spoil her yet again. He made sure to pick the best restaurant money could buy but even then, she deserved more. More than money could buy. He smiled as they reached the reception desk, clearing his throat to catch the attention of the man behind the desk.

“Welcome sir, name?” he asked, looking up at the man cluelessly. A few others in the restaurant were noticeably tense, but continued to work.

“Longbottom.” he stated, watching as the man looked through the reservation book. He sucked on his teeth, giving Neville a fake look of sympathy.

“Sorry, it looks like you’re about 5 minutes late! I’m sure if you come back tommo-”

“Did you hear what I said? You might wanna listen closer this time. I’m Neville Longbotom.” the man behind the desk blinked at him blankly before his eyes shot up in a sudden realization. He began to scramble, trying to form some sort of apology. Neville slammed his fist on the desk, leaning forward as he began to speak through gritted teeth. “Just get me my fucking table, yeah? My lady should never be kept waiting and if she has to stand here for one more god damn-”

“Yes, yes! Right this way sir.” he said, grabbing the menus. At some point he dropped them but continued to walk, leading them to a private table near a large window. (Y/n) gasped, leaning against the window to look at the breathtaking view. Below her was the ocean, the sunlight cascading across it as seagulls flew around freely. While she was distracted, Neville took the opportunity to pour two glasses of wine before tapping her shoulder. She turned around, smiling at him.

“You seem to be enjoying the view. I take it the table choice is fine?” he asked, pulling her chair out for her. He pushed her chair up before taking a seat in the one across from her. 

“It’s beautiful, I haven't seen anything like it. Last time I saw views this beautiful was Hogwarts.” she tensed slightly as he reached across intertwining their fingers, before relaxing. Her heart was racing wildly, a million different thoughts running through her head. Her and Neville had spent many moments together, far more intimate than this. But there was something so nerve wracking about being with him in public where anyone could see them. (Y/n) found herself growing self conscious about the pressure of it all, but decided to push it aside. She had been waiting for this for years and she wasn’t going to ruin it with a few negative thoughts.

“Yeah? If you like this, you’re gonna love what I have planned for after this.” he smiled at her. After this? He had more than this planned for them? Her wonderings of what it was didn’t last long when the bread was brought out, causing her eyes to light up. As soon as the basket was placed on the table she reached for a slice of the expensive bread, layering butter on it.

“Th-they’ve got the good bread! With the butter that’s all smooth.” she muttered with her mouth full. Neville bit his lip to contain his laughter at her childish display. “Y’know what I’m sayin,?”

He smiled at her, grabbing a piece of his own. “Somehow I do.”

--------------------------------------

After 30 minutes of good conversation and 3 bread baskets later, the two were finally ready to order. (Y/n) opened up the menu, gaping at it in confusion. There was so many elaborate names with descriptions even more confusing. Neville noticed this, pulling her menu down to look at her a bit.

“You alright, pretty girl?” he asked, ignoring the impatient waiter that was supposed to take their order. 

“I’m alright it’s just...there’s so much confusion. All I wanted was chicken alfredo and I don’t even see it on the menu.” her eyes continued to scan the menu, becoming more perplexed as the names grew longer. Her eyes followed the tattooed finger as it pointed to a name that she didn’t even wanna think about pronouncing.

“ ‘S right there. Don’t worry dove, I’ll order for you.” her shoulders relaxed some as she gave him an appreciative smile. As he sent the waiter off, a silence fell over them. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it was clear something needed to be said and for once, it wasn’t on Neville’s end. Did she really wanna ask him now? ‘I should at least wait for dessert, that way it won’t be awkward if he says something I don’t wanna hear.’ she thought to herself.

The silence was encroaching, slowly becoming unbearable. It was suffocating, she felt like she was on a rope, dangling above all the words she wanted to say but couldn’t.

“So I-”

“Do you-”

They both looked at each other as they began to laugh. “You can go. I insist.” he encouraged, taking another sip of his wine before she could protest.

“I was just going to ask if you picked the bouquet yourself? It’s far too beautiful to be store bought, the flowers look happy.” she said, smiling down at the bouquet fondly. When the waiter first came, Neville heavily urged them for a vase to put them in. The waiter originally had been hesitant but when Neville’s jaw began to clench he quickly went to look for a vase in the back room. He smiled at her eye to detail, nodding as he cleared his throat placing his glass back on the table.

“Yeah I did.” he secretly snuck his hand across the table, the edges of their fingers brushing against each other. “Do you remember flower code?” she moved her fingers under his, smiling when he tightened his grip on her hand.

“Of course I do. We learned it together during the spring in the astronomy tower together. Best spring of my life.” she sighed fondly at the memory. “Forget-Me-Nots for true and everlasting love, violets for faith and affection, however, the tulips are leaving my mind. I can’t remember what they mean for the life of me.” she huffed, looking off as she tried to recall their meaning. He chuckled, placing a kiss on her knuckles. He trailed his kisses as far up her arm as he could reach from his position at the table.

“Tulips, well, tulips represent perfection and royalty because that’s what you are to me.” their eyes locked in a passionate gaze, (e/c) meeting his own dazzling ones. “My tulip, so perfect. I have every intention to treat you like royalty.” she was left wordless. Was this all real? She had read many fairy tales growing up and now here she sat, experiencing one of her own. Sure, those fairytales never had dangerous tattooed men with hearts of gold, but the way he looked at her, holding her with such delicacy let her know she had found her prince charming.

---------------------------------

(Y/n) was thankful she had worn a dress because if she had worn jeans? The button would have flown straight off her pants. Her alfredo was delicious, every herb and seasoning used done so perfectly. Not another bite could fit in her. However, when the dessert menu (that featured pictures of each and every dessert) was brought out, she didn’t see why it wasn’t a good idea to get dessert!

“It all looks so good! Like I made it, but better.” she breathed out, eyes scanning the dessert menu eagerly. But when she saw the triple chocolate cake, it was like she was falling in love all over again. “This. We need this Nev or else I might die.” he laughed at her serious expression, rolling his eyes some.

“Alright, love. Un ordine della torta al cioccolato, per favore.” the waiter nodded, writing it down before walking off again. The same silence from before fell over them but this time, she was going to do it. She sighed, grabbing both his hands in one.

“Listen, Nev. There’s been something, or someone, I’ve been meaning to ask you abou-” her eye began to twitch as a familiar figure stood next to their table. She gave her a bone chilling smile before turning to Neville who was much to her surprise, even more upset than she was.

“Ah, Neville! What a pleasure it is to see you here!” she said, holding out her hand for him to kiss. However he glared at it, leaning back in his seat.

“Can I help you Gisele? Actually even if I can, I don’t want to. Get lost.” he said, waving his hand for her to go away. But as expected, she didn’t budge. She leaned forward onto the table, gripping the edge with her red manicured hands. Her cleavage was on display as a fake pout graced her face. “I’m on a date and I’d rather not see you.”

She gasped, placing a hand on her chest in surprise. “A date? Oh my, is that what this is? Gosh I am so sorry! When I met, er what was it? Ah, (Y/n), over here the other day she said you weren’t together!” he raised a brow at this, looking between the two. 

“You two met? Why didn’t you tell me, love?” he asked, turning his attention to the girl. She gave Gisele a disgusted one over before looking back at him.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly the most pleasant meeting.” she pushed out, looking at him. He rubbed at his chin a bit as he hummed.

“Really? Do you recall what she said to you?” he asked, knowing it couldn’t have been good. Gisele’s expression gave it all away. Although she feigned being unbothered, her expression was slowly cracking.

“You know as a matter of fact, I do! She said I was a knock off version of her and that you were using me as a replacement for the original!” she said, giving Gisele a wide tooth grinned. Gisele’s lips were parted as she searched for the words to say, mind blanking.

Neville looked between the two girls as he took a sip of his wine. “Now that you mention it, you two do look alike. I never really noticed though, I didn't spend much of any time looking at her face. But now that I am…” he trailed off, eyes tracing Gisele’s features, “You’re definitely not a knock off of her. I think it’d be an insult to you to even insinuate that she’s a knock off of you!” Now it was her turn to be surprised. Had he really not noticed their semblance to one another? It was clear now that not only was it a coincidence, but Gisele’s whole story was a lie.

“You- I- you ruined everything!” she shrilled, stomping her foot angrily. “That should be me in your seat, me on this..” she tuned her out as she looked at her own glass of wine. It would be a shame if the wine was to somehow end up on her ugly little polka dot dress. She squinted her (e/c) eyes, watching as the wine splashed all over the girl’s dress. Gisele paused mid sentence, gawking at her dress. Neville began to cackle, eyeing his date suspiciously. His thoughts were confirmed when she sent him a wink.

“My dress! Look what you did to me!” she wailed, motioning to the giant red stain on her dress. A few people turned to look at them all, whispering as they pointed at the girl.

“Me? I didn’t lift a finger.” she said, shrugging as she gave her an innocent look. “I suppose that’s what happens when you meddle in people’s business.”

“Is there a problem ma’am? Sir?” the voice sounded familiar, but an octave deeper. Turning her head her eyes widened at the sight of both Twyla and Seamus. Both of them were in costumes, fake beards and mustaches on their face along with wigs. She went to say something but when the blonde put a finger to her lip, she quickly decided against it.

“Yeah we got a complaint from the head chef. You’re to be escorted out of here immediately. Come along now.” Twyla said, dragging Gisele along with her. Seamus went to follow but was stopped by Neville. He pulled him close, leaning near his ear.

“Next time if you’re gonna spy on your boss, make it a bit less obvious.” he pat his shoulder, tightening his grip. “Although I’m glad you were able to handle this, I’m gonna ask that you leave. It’s not a suggestion but an order from your boss. I’m a big man, I can handle my date on my own.”

Seamus nodded, tipping his hat to them both. “Boss, mini boss.” and with that, he was gone. Neville turned to her, thanking the waiter once the cake was sat down in front of them, two golden forks on the plate.

“Let’s have dessert, shall we?”

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[formeandmyfics]

Jugenea Fic

IN STITCHES

just a short, random, fun one

1956

New Frontier Hotel

Vegas

It was nearing 4 a.m. when Judy turned out the lamp on the nightstand and snuggled into the feather-down comforter of her hotel bedroom. The darkness, along with the fresh, cool sheets, made her immediately drift off into sleep. As she did so, her mind replayed tonight's events.  

She was nearing the end of her contracted show at the hotel. Every show had been a success, and with such a great audience, she was having a blast. Unfortunately, that morning, she had come down with laryngitis. She could speak alright; singing, even a slow melody, her voice had come out raspy and trying any loud or high notes sounded like a good impersonation of Mickey Mouse. She panicked. She could not cancel that show, not just because of financial aspects with the hotel, but because she didn't want to have newspapers write more false claims as to why she cancelled, which some columnists had gotten almost venomous since she left MGM. Most importantly, she also didn't want to disappoint her fans.  

With Gene's quick thinking, he contacted their buddy Jerry Lewis, whom was in town, and begged him to help Judy out. Fortunately, he came through, but told both of them, "I'm scared shitless. I don't know what to do out there." Judy was nervous, too! She didn't know how the show would pan out or how the audience would react.

Gene had said to her, "They just want to see you. That’s all. You can sit at the edge of the stage and talk to them about the weather and they'd be happy. That's how magnetic you are, so go and use it. Go out there with Jer' and just have fun."

Jerry did his comedy bits, bantered with Judy, leaving her in hysterical laughter, and they interacted with the audience. Jerry also sang some of her songs, in her normal arrangements, including 'Rock-A-Bye' with Judy as his personal cheerleader by his side. The crowd didn't mind at all that she couldn't perform. It was a very intimate evening, and all-in-all, a smash. She was so very grateful.  

After the show, she had a late dinner with Gene and a few friends, including Frank and Lauren, who surprised her by showing up to the show. By 2 in the morning, more people started coming around their booth in the bar and the noise was too much for Judy's exhaustion. Gene wanted to stay there with Frank a bit more so he told her to get some sleep. Giving him a kiss goodnight, she went up to the room. After reading a book, she finally got sleepy and head to bed. And boy, it felt marvelous.  

In the downstairs lobby, Lauren shook her head, annoyed, as she walked hastily up to the front desk in the hotel's lobby.

"May I use the house phone, please?"

The receptionist nodded, "Here you are ma'am," then placed the phone on the corner for her.

"Thank you." She immediately dialed the Kelly's hotel suite. When there was no answer, she dialed again, but no answer.  

"Dammit, Judes," she murmured as she clicked the phone down. She hoped Judy hadn't taken a sleeping pill.  

The Kelly's suite was quiet, and dimly lit, as Lauren entered with Gene's key. The double doors to the bedroom were shut, no light coming from beneath them, so Lauren knew Judy was dead asleep. Still, out of curtesy, she knocked before entering. Walking over to the empty side of the bed, she turned on the lamp there.

“Judy,” with no response, Lauren kneeled on the bed and leaned over to softly shake her friends arm, “Judy. Wake up, hun.”

She stirred before turning, a puzzled look on her face, clearly still more asleep than wake, “Betty?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“What are you doing in my room,” she asked sitting up.

“Something’s happened. Are you awake?”

“What time is it?”

“4. You gotta get up. Gene’s got himself in a dilly,” Lauren said getting off the bed to grab Judy’s silk robe which hung over the vanity chair.

“What do you mean,” she asked alarmed.

“Some drunk asshole kept running his mouth and Gene kept antagonizing him. It ended in a brawl and Gene cut his arm pretty bad.”

Judy bolted out of bed putting her robe on, “Oh my God. Is he alright?”

“He’s okay, but the cut’s pretty deep. He won’t stop bleeding. The bartender gave him a rag to hold on his arm. I told him he needs stitches but he won’t stop arguing with me,” Lauren said as she followed Judy into the living room.

“Where is he now?”

“Downstairs with Frank talking to the house detective.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Judy said upset, “What should I do? I can't go down there like this. Lord knows what would come out in the papers if someone saw us.”

Just then there was a knock on the door and Lauren went over and opened it. Gene came in first, and irritatingly nudged Frank’s hand off his back, as he did so.  

“Gene, what the hell have you done now?”

“I’m fine,” he said upset himself before he plopped onto the sofa.

“You’re not fine. You need stitches.”

“I don’t need fucking stitches, Betty. I told you that.”

“Please don’t talk to her like that, let me see,” Judy said sitting next to him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lauren replied unphased, “He’s cranky and has a gash the size of the Grand Canyon. I think it’s all the blood loss that’s messed with the tone in his voice.”

Judy tried not to smile at Lauren’s sarcasm, but Gene shot her a dirty look as if they were siblings. When Judy got the rag off of his arm carefully, she looked at her husband horrified.

“For Christ sakes, Gene.”

“Baby, I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay. You’re still bleeding. Look at the damn rag. It’s soaked,” she cried out.

“He needs a hospital.”

“He’s not going to a hospital because that’s dramatic and a waste of time,” Frank cut in, “Just call the house doctor.”

“I’m not taking him to the hospital or calling the house doctor,” Judy said getting up and walked across the room towards the phone, “If this gets out, people will think he came down with a Judy Garland ailment.”

“Judy,” Gene yelled shocked, then shot her a look over his shoulder, “That’s not funny.”

With the phone to her ear, she waved him off, clearly had been poking fun at her own expense.

“Who are you calling,” Frank asked.

“Tom Jacobs. He came to see the show tonight and is staying at the hotel,” she said of their doctor friend, a prominent Beverly Hills physician, “Maybe he can come look at Gene.”

“You’re going to wake him up at four in the morning,” Gene asked.

“Yes, so my husband doesn’t bleed to death...Hi, Tom? Hi, it’s Judy. I’m so sorry to wake you up, but I don’t know what to do. I’m alright, but Gene’s got himself in a pickle. He cut his arm pretty bad and we think he need stitches...”

“I DON’T NEED STITCHES,” Gene yelled interrupting her.

Judy continued, looking at her husband upset and yelled back at Gene covering the receiver with her hand, “He DEFINITELY needs stiches! Ok. Yes. Room 209. Thank you, darling. Buh bye.”

She walked on back over to Gene and sat down next to him again, “Why did you antagonize him, especially when you know he’s a drunk. You know I hate that stuff,” she said in a stern, wifely manner.

“If you heard the things he was saying, you would have thrown your martini in his face,” Gene retorted leaning his head back against the couch tired.

“Judging by what he was saying, she would have thrown it on his crotch,” Frank agreed.

“How hammered are you,” Judy asked.

“Scale?”

She sighed impatiently, “1-10.”

“4.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“No,” Lauren interrupted, “He didn’t drink that much.”

“I can attest,” Sinatra added.

When Gene rolled his head to look at her with a ‘see’ expression, she smiled, softening.

“What did the house detective say,” Lauren asked her buddy next to her.

“Threw the guy out and I sweet-talked him and he let us go,” Frank quipped quite proud.

“Are you in pain,” Judy asked sweeping some of his hair back with her fingers.

“No. Can't really feel my arm right now.”

“Can you feel this,” she asked and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“That I can definitely feel.”

When the doctor came, Lauren and Frank said their goodbyes to give them privacy. Tom looked Gene over and took his vitals.

“Well, here’s the deal, bud,” Tom said, “Your vitals are great. Your blood pressure is just a little high but that’s to be expected after what happened. And your wife is right. You definitely need stitches.”

“Fuck,” Gene said to himself.

Judy looked at Tom and whispered, “He hates needles.”

“Tell ya what, pal, I’m gonna give you some happy juice so while I suture you up, you won’t feel a thing.”

Judy lit herself a cigarette as the doc worked on Gene’s stitches, who looked like he was asleep. She paced slowly back and forth. The movement caught Gene’s eye and his head slowly rolled to look at her. He tried focusing his eyes a moment, and when he did, he made a silly grin.

“Hey, you.”

Judy stopped in her tracks and looked over at him, exhaling.

“How are you feeling?”

“Come here,” he said and reached his free arm out towards her, lazily.

“Gene, don’t move, please,” the doc said looking through his magnifying glasses.

Judy immediately went over and took that hand so he wouldn’t continue to move.

“You’re beautiful.”

Judy let out a surprised chuckle, “Even at the crack of dawn, huh?”

“Is that what it is?”

“Pretty much.”

“You look familiar.”

Judy’s eyes widened and she looked up at Tom who just smiled not lifting his eyes, “Don’t worry about him. It’s the same effect as if he’s coming off anesthesia. He’ll be fine.”

“Well, you look familiar, too,” Judy played along.

“I’m Gene Kelly,” he stated proudly, but still with a slurred speech.

“Nice to get reacquainted, I’m Judy Kelly.”

His smile faded and he furrowed his eyebrows, “We have the same last name? Oh, no, you're not my sister are you?”

Judy let out a laugh but quickly cleared her throat, “No, darling, I’m your wife.”

“What’s your maiden name?”

“What an odd question. You want my maiden name or my given name?”

“Pick.”

“Well, you probably remember me more as Judy Garland.”

“Wait,” Gene went to sit up but Judy pushed him back, “I married Judy Garland?”

“Yeeeees,” she teased.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled to himself which made her laugh again.  

“Oh my goodness,” she giggled.

“How long we been hitched?”

“5 years.”

“How can I not remember this? Where have I been this whole time?”

“You’ve been with me...dancing me off my feet and giving me two little Kelly’s.”

“We got kids?”

“Yes, sir,” she said reaching for her cigarette again, “A four-year-old girl and a one-year-old boy.”

“Can I see them?”

“I’m sorry, darling,” she giggled feeling a tad uncomfortable with her husband’s temporary amnesia, “Your parents came and took them home with them a few days ago. We’ll be with them again next week when we leave here. Tom,” Judy said a bit worried, “How long is this going to last?”

“Oh, it’ll wear off in about an hour, if not sooner. It’s a completely normal reaction, Judy, don’t worry yourself.”

“I’m worried he’ll want to re-do our honeymoon and have two more kids in that next hour since he can’t remember,” she teased.

They both suddenly heard Gene softly snoring and Judy felt relieved.

“I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that. He’s going to have a very restful night’s sleep.”

“He’s such an idiot sometimes,” she said looking at her cute, sleeping husband, “But he’s my idiot.”

[thetriggeredhappy]

I love your idea of scout bein born early. Would it be too much trouble for you to write abt him bein in the hospital? And maybe possibly spy findin out?

this feels like a slightly different angle than the prompt, anon, but in my defense that’s what always happens

(warnings for alcohol mention, non-graphic injury and briefly being in a hospital)

-

The phone rang three times before it was picked up, and Scout used all three of those rings to try and get his story straight in his head. Then it was picked up and a familiar and very pleasant voice said “Hey, this is Pauling,” and he wasted exactly zero seconds to start talking.

“Alright so I kinda need some help, Miss P,” he opened with, because frankly those were some cards he knew were gonna end up on the table no matter how he played this.

“What did you do?” she asked immediately, and fuck, she was on to him.

“I—listen, I didn’t even do anything.”

“What did you do?” she asked again.

“...So, okay, promise you won’t be mad.”

“I’m already mad, Scout. What did you do?”

Scout worked hard for about three seconds to figure out a good way to phrase the next few sentences. “...So I was just at this bar, right, and I was minding my own goddamn business—“

“Scout.”

“I was!” he said, a little defensive. “Seriously! And this guy sees me across the bar, and, y’know, figures out I’m one of those guys from the newspaper who keeps causing trouble—“

“Were you in uniform?” she asked dryly.

“Nah, but, uh, Soldier and Cyclops were there, and some of the other guys were there earlier, and Soldier had his stupid helmet on, so, y’know. Bunch of foreigners and some G.I. Joe lookin’ guy, wouldn’t be hard to piece it together. And most of the guys left, and Soldier and Demo walk off, and I’m left alone just finishing my drink before I head out, like ya do.”

“Like you do,” Miss Pauling hesitantly agreed.

“And this guy goes, hey, three dudes is a lot, but I could take this one guy. And he comes up to me, right, all like ‘Hey what’s up I’m a drunk dude who wants to get in a fight like an asshole’ and I’m like ‘Hey nah I’m good actually’ because like, I’m busy and that’s stupid, right?”

“Right,” Miss Pauling agreed. “Really stupid.”

“Right! So I’m like, ‘Hey, fuck off pal’ and he just takes a fuckin’ swing at me, and I’m like ‘Hey actually fuck this I already paid I’m just gonna get outta here’ and I try to leave, but the dude just like—just grabs me by the arm and breaks my fuckin’ wrist, and I knock my whole glass over because holy shit, and a whole fuckin’ brawl kicks off, right—?”

“So long story short you need me to pick you up from jail again,” Miss Pauling cut in, voice laced with heavy exasperation.

“Nah, bartender saw everything and I didn’t get in any trouble. I, uh. I need you to pick me up from the hospital, actually,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as a nurse wheeled a cart by.

“Scout.”

“Look, I would’a just headed back to base, but it was like two in the morning and Medic was probably asleep and the bartender guy was bein’ all nice about it and how am I supposed to tell him I’ve got this crazy German guy who fixes all my bones and shit and don’t gotta go to a real hospital?” he asked, a little defensive. “Then they wouldn’t let me leave unless someone drove me because I’ve got a cast on and can’t drive, and I figured I shouldn’t wake you up or whatever at like four in the morning, so, I ended up taking a nap on a bench, and now it’s like ten so I figured you wouldn’t be mad.”

“Well, I can’t drive you back to base—“

“Aww, what?” he whined.

“—because I’m currently in Japan on business.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s fair,” he admitted.

“But I’ll send someone to pick you up,” she said. “Be ready to go in two hours.”

“Sure thing. Who are you sending?” Scout asked.

“I’ll send Spy,” she replied, and kept talking before Scout could start to complain. “Look, maybe now you’ll learn not to get in bar fights.”

“Miss P, c’mon!” he whined.

“I’m sending him. Two hours,” Miss Pauling said, and hung up on him, at which point he sighed so hard he got looks from two nurses down the hall.

Spy pulled up in his nice shiny car an hour and forty-five minutes later, and gave him a look that immediately made him feel guilty even though it totally wasn’t his fault that he was in this situation. He shifted on his feet for a second before heading over to the car. Silence.

“Wanna sign my cast?” Scout joked.

“Just get in the car.”

He did, deciding that maybe further hilarious commentary wasn’t going to help him out this time. Silence for a second. 

He reached for the radio. Spy smacked his hand away. “Put on your seatbelt,” Spy said flatly, and Scout did, although it was a bit of a struggle one-handed, and they pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

About thirty seconds of quiet again before Spy broke it. “So you’re a hired mercenary, but one drunk man in a bar can break your arm?” Spy asked.

“Go to hell, Spy,” Scout mumbled.

“I just find it interesting is all,” Spy said, tone light. “That we apparently need to babysit you or else you’ll end up in the morning paper.”

“What?”

Spy reached down between his door and the seat and pulled forth a newspaper, which he promptly tossed into Scout’s lap. “Third page.”

Scout flipped the newspaper open and found that there was indeed an article there. A brawl at the bar, minor property damage, five people arrested and several more fined, two sent to the hospital. He wasn’t mentioned by name, but he did see himself in the background of the picture beside the title.

“You’d think you would have the awareness not to get caught in a... brawl, I believe they called it?” Spy asked.

“Hey, I keep my head on a swivel,” Scout defended, closing the newspaper and tossing it into the backseat. “Everything was fine until Cyclops and Helmet-Head ditched me.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was,” Spy hummed.

Scout frowned. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“No, I’m just certain that you’re giving the full unbiased truth, even though I theoretically have no way of verifying anything you say to me about what happened,” Spy shrugged, eyes on the road.

Scout frowned further. “You callin’ me a liar?”

“No, I’m calling you a bad liar,” Spy said dryly.

“Well it’s true, that’s really what happened,” Scout said, a little offended.

“It doesn’t matter to me either way, I just wanted you to know that you need better cover stories if you want to continue getting away with your usual shenanigans.”

“Whatever, Spy,” Scout scoffed, glaring out the window.

About a minute and a half of complete silence. Scout got bored glancing around his side of the car and spent a good minute just picking at his cast before he realized he probably shouldn’t do that. He ended up reaching for the radio.

“No,” Spy droned.

“Aw, c’mon! Can’t we listen to something?” Scout complained. “It’s like forty minutes until we get back to base.”

“If you didn’t get in a bar fight and break your arm, it would be zero minutes. But you did, and I’m not listening to your terrible taste in music for forty minutes just because you can’t keep yourself out of trouble.”

Scout pouted over that for a minute or two before he thought of a good retort. “...Y’know, technically the guy probably only even jumped me because I was alone,” he said.

“Correct.”

“And I was only alone because you and all the other guys ditched me.”

“Succinct.”

“So this is kinda sorta basically your fault.”

Spy’s expression didn’t change. “...My fault?” he repeated.

“Yeah. If you didn’t ditch me, I wouldn’t have gotten jumped.”

Spy’s expression didn’t change.

“So you should let me turn on the radio.”

“Mon dieu, perhaps you should have been a lawyer,” he deadpanned.

Silence. “...So can I turn on the radio?”

“Don’t make me regret it,” Spy said, and Scout leaned over to fiddle with the dial, grinning.

He really didn’t think Spy would put up with the sort of stuff he usually listened to in the car, so he ended up putting on a station with something old enough that Spy probably didn’t hate it. And Spy didn’t turn it off or pull over to dump him on the side of the road, so apparently he picked something alright.

Ten minutes without talking. Scout looked out his window and tried to remember not to pick at his cast. Because he was looking out the window, he pretty easily caught sight of a sign advertising a diner.

He looked over at a Spy. Spy didn’t look back.

“Can we get diner food?” Scout asked.

“No,” Spy said.

“Please?” Scout asked.

“No,” Spy said.

“Please?” Scout asked.

“Tell me you aren’t seriously going to try this game,” Spy said, already looking annoyed. “You’re a grown man.”

“I’m hungry!”

“Then get something to eat at the base,” Spy said.

“I’m hungry and I have a broken arm and I’m gonna have to deal with Medic fixing my broken arm and also all the guys making fun of me. Can we please get diner food?” Scout asked,

Spy paused for a long moment. Scout’s eyes kept flicking between Spy and the upcoming exit. Spy sighed heavily and moved to take the exit. Scout cheered. “I can still change my mind,” Spy threatened. Scout shut up.

Scout double-checked his pockets for his wallet twice before they even pulled into the parking lot. It didn’t look particularly busy, but Spy didn’t pull up near the door anyways. He put the car into park and gave Scout the single most unimpressed look of his life.

“I’m giving you five minutes to order and get back in this car or I’m leaving without you,” he declared.

“Did you want anything?” Scout asked, fumbling with his seatbelt.

“Do I want terrible greasy American diner food?” Spy scoffed.

“Look, just thought I’d fuckin’ ask, alright? Jesus,” Scout mumbled, managing to get his seatbelt off. “And that doesn’t answer my question. Do you want anything?”

“Four minutes and fifty seconds,” Spy drawled, and Scout quickly got out of the car.

There wasn’t anyone in line, and luckily the diner was staffed by the kind of people who didn’t ask questions beyond giving a pointed glance towards his cast. He kept his order simple and kept an eye on the clock on the wall, and bolted back into the parking lot with the paper bag of food in hand wondering if Spy would seriously actually ditch him.

Surprisingly, Spy had left on the radio, and raised an eyebrow at him as he tried his best to bundle himself into the car one-handed. He managed to get his seatbelt on with only a minor scare about almost spilling the food, and promptly started digging through it as Spy pulled them back out of the parking lot.

“Here,” Scout chirped, holding something out to him. Spy frowned, glancing at his mirrors and taking what was being handed to him distractedly. They were out of the parking lot and back on the road by the time Spy actually looked at it.

“What is this?” he asked dryly, looking at the paper-wrapped something.

“Chicken sandwich,” Scout replied, pulling his own food out. “I uh, I think I got ketchup in here too—“

“Why did you get me a sandwich?”

“Why not?” Scout shrugged, unwrapping his burger and glancing it over before taking a bite and frowning. “Aw, man, I wanted cheese on this. Damn.”

“I didn’t ask for anything.”

“I mean, if you don’t want it, I’ll probably eat it.”

“No,” Spy said, and hesitated. He waited until they were at a stoplight before moving to unwrap the sandwich, glancing it over with a critical eye. Scout noticed that he didn’t take it completely out of the paper even when he did move to start eating it, instead using the paper to hold it. Probably worried about grease or something on his dumb gloves. Usually Scout would make fun of him about it, but he was pretty sure he was very close to getting kicked out of the car.

He wolfed down his hamburger (even without cheese) and started getting to work on his french fries, being extra careful due to the fact that he was pretty sure Spy would kill him if he dropped a fry in his nice, fancy, very very clean car.

He could only play it cool for so long once a joke occurred to him, though. He grinned, taking a fry and holding it between two fingers up near his face. “Hey, look, I’m you,” Scout joked, pretending to take a drag.

Spy spared him a glance and promptly rolled his eyes, returning to glaring at the road. “Not even close.”

“Aww, what?” Scout complained.

“First of all, I’m better dressed,” Spy quipped. “Second of all, I’m taller, and third of all, I didn’t get my arm put in a case because of a bar fight. Shall I continue? The list goes on.”

“Well why are you gettin’ personal about it?” Scout asked, bristling. “I was just makin’ a joke, sheesh.”

“How was I meant to know? Usually jokes are funny,” Spy said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Scout didn’t have a good comeback for that, just sinking in his seat and moving to look back out the window.

A good ten minutes of silence again, broken only by the radio and the hum of the car. Scout finished his fries and put his trash back in the bag the way that Spy seemed to be doing, then crossed his arms over himself and just looked out the window at all the nothing. Silence. Road.

Surprisingly, Spy spoke first. “You’ve missed two Volkswagen Beetles,” he noted.

Scout didn’t say anything.

“Usually when we pass one of those you punch me very hard on the arm and I almost crash the car because you’re an idiot.”

Scout sunk further in his seat, but didn’t say anything.

“Am I meant to gather from this that the way to get you to stop doing that is by making you angry with me? Because if so, clearly I’ll need to be much worse to you from now on if I want to keep this vehicle in one piece.”

“Like that’s even possible for you,” Scout said under his breath.

“I didn’t need to come pick you up from the hospital, nor did I need to let you turn on the radio, nor did I need to pull over to allow you to get food from the diner,” Spy pointed out. “All things considered, I’ve been very nice to you so far.”

“What a saint,” Scout mumbled sarcastically.

Silence. “Do you have something to say?”

“I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk about this, alright Spy?” Scout finally huffed.

“And why not?”

“Look, I’ve had a shitty night, okay?” Scout snapped, glaring hard at the desert outside the window. “I got my arm broken in a stupid bar because the guys got annoyed and ditched me and I was up until like four in the morning getting my arm set and put in a cast and then I had to sleep on a shitty bench in a hospital waiting room and then Miss P sent the one person on the planet who hates me more than anyone else to pick me up. I’m not fuckin’ doin’ this right now, okay? Just lay off.”

Silence. Thank god for the radio, or he would’ve suffocated in it.

“Surely I’m not the person who hates you the most in the world,” Spy said after a few moments. “There are nine men being paid to kill you on a daily basis. I’m sure they hate you much more than I do.”

Scout didn’t reply to that.

“And I’m sure none of them would have pulled over to let you get something to eat,” he added.

“Yeah, holy shit, your Peace Prize is in the mail,” Scout huffed.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Scout snapped, finally looking over at him. Spy couldn’t hold eye contact for long, needing to watch the road. “What was that supposed to mean?”

Spy sighed hard, looking extremely irritated. “It means that have you ever considered that perhaps the team worries when someone goes missing? And that occasionally your teammates might worry about you?”

“How was I supposed to know? Usually teammates are supposed to be nice,” Scout sassed, echoing Spy’s earlier joke.

He watched Spy take a measured inhale, a controlled exhale. When he spoke a long few seconds later, his voice was level. “Fine,” he said. “Alright. You’ve made your point.”

Scout just turned to look back out the window.

“...And I’m sorry we left you alone at the bar.”

His head whipped back around, eyebrows furrowed. Spy wasn’t looking at him.

“And I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier, and thank you for also getting me a sandwich when you didn’t need to,” Spy continued.

Scout waited a good few seconds for the catch, for the ‘gotcha’, for the punchline. For the part where Spy would twist the words around and hit him with something really biting once his guard was down. But nothing came. Just silence.

He needed a long moment to figure out how to reply. “...Thanks,” was all he could manage, and he knew it was lame, but Spy just shrugged and made no further comment.

Minutes of silence. Scout looked out the windshield, picked at his cast. “Punch buggy,” he quipped a few minutes later, slugging Spy on the shoulder with his good hand, and Spy made an appropriate sound of disgust and annoyance and offhandedly threatened to make him walk the rest of the way, but Scout just laughed.

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Five

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

It was supposed to be simple. Clear out Weston Water Treatment. Start a new settlement at Oberland Station. Backhand wrinkled her nose. Partially in irritation, and partially to ward off the foul smell of super mutant.

  “If I'd known the place was infested I wouldn't have agreed to this shit.” She grumbled to the paladin in power armor beside her. “Rob could have been a little more generous with his count, I feel.”

  Danse chuckled, “Don't try to act tough, Knight Vega. You're still here, right? It's only a couple of super mutants.”

  “A couple, he says.”

  A bullet whizzed over her head, interrupting the easy back and forth between the two of them. Danse gritted his teeth and readied his laser rifle. “For the Brotherhood!”

  They easily picked off five mutants and two hounds, and Backhand pumped her fist in victory when a sixth mutant fell to Righteous Authority . However, then she heard something that sent her into a panic. Her whole upper body jutted heedlessly out from behind cover, stealth mods deactivated from her motion while she searched frantically for the source of the beeping. “Wait, Paladin wait! ” She yelled, grabbing hold of his arm as he thundered by and barely missing getting her fingers crushed in his elbow joint. His momentum dragged her along with him and she hurriedly dug her boots into the dirt. “There's a fucking-!”

  Danse’s huge gauntlet clamped onto one of the many straps on her combat armor and without so much as a look out , he hurled her up over the road and into the deep pond beside the treatment plant. The super mutant suicider screamed in triumph, “ Die, metal man! ”

  Backhand landed in the pond with an undignified splash, brown water pouring into her nose and mouth as she sank like a rock to the bottom. The following explosion sent shockwaves through the water and Backhand struggled to hold her breath.

  Danse, oh God Danse, please be alright!

  She finally broke the surface, eyes stinging from the acrid water. “Paladin Danse!” She coughed, hauling herself back up the banking. Smoking chunks of super mutant were scattered everywhere , green flesh burned brown and black. The suit of power armor was toppled over on its front. “ Danse! ” Backhand almost fell in her haste to get to the paladin, skidding to her knees beside the power armor.

  Her Geiger counter started to click loudly.

  “Shit, Paladin, c'mon! You've dealt with worse than this, you got cooked by a fucking rocket! Don't do this to me!” She pleaded, fighting with the manual release on the back of the suit. The fusion core was shattered, otherwise she could have just half-twisted the handle and popped him out easy. Backhand was stuck doing this the hard way. “Fucking answer me Paladin, please! ”

  “That's not...soldier-appropriate language, Knight.” A choked cough came from the half-crushed helmet. “Can you get the back open? I can't really...it's very heavy in this thing.” He rose onto his knees with one hand propping him up, leaving Backhand more than a little impressed. “A Brotherhood soldier's conditioning requirements are somewhat rigorous, Knight. Now please. The back.” Despite his reassurances he sounded strained.

  Backhand tore the plate metal over her knuckles on the rivets around the manual release wheel in her haste to get it undone, breathing a sigh of relief when she finally swung the back plate up out of the way. Danse pulled his head out of his helmet, got to his feet, and promptly collapsed.

  Backhand swore again, rolling him over. It seemed like his armor had taken the brunt of the impact but he got rattled around inside it like an old world pinball. She'd griped about the lack of padding in their undersuits the very first time she’d seen them, ‘ stupid military branches, always cutting corners. ’

  “Paladin, you still with me?” Backhand Vega, shittiest knight the Brotherhood has to offer. “Why the fuck are all your jumpsuits dark orange and brown , I can't tell whether you're bleeding or not!” She yelled in frustration, mostly to herself. At least that suicider had been the last of the mutants to deal with. “Alright, okay. You're out. Oberland it is.” She sighed when he didn't reply, slinging Righteous Authority across her chest and heaving Danse onto her back. Thank God for all that conditioning work so she'd been able to move her own armor frame back in the day. She may be in shape but Danse was by no means a small man.

  Getting over the damn hill to Oberland left Backhand almost spent. Half-carrying, half-dragging him up the station stairs at the end was torment, her calves screaming bloody murder. She dropped him on the bed and left her supply satchel on the ground, rummaging through it for her Stims. Some Rad-X probably wouldn't hurt either, it had been a mini-nuke that exploded next to him.

  “Knight Vega...” Danse mumbled blearily a few minutes after she inserted the Stim needle into one of the ports in his jumpsuit, the paladin obviously coming back around.

  Backhand couldn’t stop the way she snapped at him. Now that the terror for her companion had faded somewhat, she was left feeling exhausted and irritated. “What the hell were you thinking? You could have been obliterated by that asshole!”

  “Where are we?” Danse muttered instead, trying to sit up.

  “Oberland. Lay the hell back down, stupid idiots don’t get to sit up.” She pushed his shoulder and Danse’s back hit the mattress with a wheeze of rusty springs. “Don’t move.” She growled, using one of her shoelaces to hang the bag of Rad-X from the rafters and then hitching the end of the tubing to the needle still in his arm. Danse grunted, the dazed look on his face making Backhand extremely nervous. “Paladin, stay conscious.” She waved her fingers in front of his eyes and Danse jerked to attention. “Stay with me.”

  “I am, Knight Vega.” He retorted while his eyes drifted shut. “Right here.”

  “Ah ah, no napping.” She tapped his cheek and his eyes rolled open again. “Stay with me, Danse.” Backhand repeated, a little softer this time.

  “I am , Knight Vega.” Danse murmured. “Endured worse than this, remember?”

  “Doesn't mean I'm not going to worry.”

  Danse closed his eyes just enough to squint at her. “About me? You’re the one with no power armor. I’m supposed to be managing you , Vega.”

  …

  “Yeah, frickin’ bang-up job there ked.” Backhand retorted. “Coulda’ lost a hand in your elbow joint when you whipped past me like a bat outta’ hell.”

  Danse noted with a faint flash of amusement that apparently her accent thickened when she was wound up. “My hearing is not in peak condition. Specifically, telling where the sound is coming from can be an issue in my helmet. Proctor Ingram can only tweak it so much.”

  “That would have been good to know beforehand, Paladin.” Backhand said icily, her motions sharp and angry as she shed her combat armor breastplate. Her gauntlets followed suit, discarded in a pile on the floor. She was soaked to the skin, Danse noticed hazily.

  His head was pounding again, vision slowly becoming more and more unfocused. “Tell me about what it was like, Knight. Before the…before the war.” Danse slurred, trying his hardest to change the subject and stay awake.

  Backhand bit her lip, pulling the bedroll up a little higher until it was underneath Danse’s chin. He wasn’t sure whether she intended to simply ignore his question.

  “It was green.” She said softly, putting his wondering to rest. “There was always someone in your business. People were on top of each other most of the time. I mean, I was in the military so cramped quarters were normal for me, but for civilians…it was pretty hellish. In the mornings once we��d had breakfast, I would take Shaun outside to the front lawn and he would roll around on his little blanket. The neighbors were walking their dogs or mowing the lawn or something, we would all make small talk about the weather.” Backhand stopped talking and sighed heavily, tapping at the bag of Rad-X to keep it flowing.

  “What is it, Knight?” Danse hated the cold sweat that always broke out when he took Rad-X, but right now it was a necessary evil.

  “I think a lot of folks were a little intimidated by me.” She theorized. “I mean I was a young veteran, and pretty quickly became a single mother. Unheard of. For a while after I moved in I still had the eyepatch from my discharge incident, then a pair of super dark sunglasses, which definitely didn’t defang my appearance.” Her smile was melancholy and she brought her fingers up to her eye, tapping the area beneath it.

  The silence stretched on. Danse knew he needed to be patient. It’s not as if he could go anywhere, and it was fascinating to hear about pre-war from someone who had actually been there.

  “I told the neighborhood kids that I was a pirate and showed them all how to make newspaper boats and hats so they could be pirates too.” Backhand smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I modified one of my old MLCE packs so I could carry Shaun around the cul-de-sac with me when I jogged. Didn’t have the money for one of those baby carriers or even for a stroller after the divorce, so the pack had to do. He would put his little head down on my chest and sleep. Wasn’t bothered by all the motion or anything, just like his mommy.”

  Her pain was still clearly raw, even after however much time had passed. Danse didn’t know what to do, so he wiggled a heavy arm free of the sleeping bag and rested his hand on her own. She squeezed it back wordlessly, her jaw working.

  When she spoke again, she sounded more steady. “I can’t say that it was bad . The environment was safe and quiet. Everyone in Sanctuary Hills looked out for one another. Even if it was more motivated by curiosity and nosiness than an actual desire to help.” Backhand mused dryly. “The milkman couldn’t leave an extra bottle on your doorstep without six other people knowing. So exactly like the military.”

  “Sounds similar to the Prydwen.” Danse remarked, sick to his stomach a second after he said it. How many people must know about Maxson and I? He realized, swallowing hard to fight the sudden rush of nausea. He hadn’t thought about it at all, more than content with the illusion of privacy one usually maintained in the Brotherhood. The most obvious evidence of their dalliances was the busted mouth Danse always seemed to end up with, and those instances happened far too often for everyone to write it off as Danse just being clumsy or careless when he shaved.

  I bumped it. He grimaced as he recalled his weak explanation back on the Prydwen, the way Backhand had narrowed her eyes at him.

  Besides, he knew that he’d worn his excuses thin at this point. Trying to explain away the teeth marks Arthur left on his upper arm that one time was more than enough of a chore. He had looked like he’d been savaged by a feral, so at least he could understand the concern to an extent.

  “Hey, you alright? All the color just dropped out of your face.” Backhand noticed, her brows drawn in worry.

  Danse nodded, fixing his attention on the guttering lantern beside the bed instead of the wrinkles on her forehead. “Tell me more?” He asked eventually.

  “I miss the convenience of food. Even with the shortages, there used to be a grocery store on practically every corner.” She sounded wistful. “Shaun hadn’t really started solid foods yet, he was only just beginning to leave the twenty-four-seven nursing program. Not a minute too soon, the little bugger would suck me dry.”

  “You breastfed your child? Isn’t that-” Danse stopped himself, feeling uncomfortable. Normally breastfeeding was considered incredibly dangerous, for the baby and the parent. But before, when the radiation wasn’t so prevalent…things must have been different. “It’s none of my business, I suppose.”

  “No no, I get it. I know that nowadays trying to raise a child is tough enough without the added dangers of the irradiated environment. It was simpler back then. Could just unbutton your shirt and go to town, instead of having to unbelt all your armor and find a safe spot so that Junior can get lunch in.” Backhand grinned.

  Danse flushed a little at her frank speech, sternly telling himself not to dwell on the idea of her with an infant on her knee like some housewife from the pre-war mags. He had no recollection of his own parents, or siblings if he had them. Familial musing was not familiar territory, but it never failed to leave him with a sad ache in his throat. The same ache that assaulted him when he thought of Cutler-

  Backhand hissed in pain and Danse snapped out of his slide into melancholy, watching with horror while she peeled off her other glove. “Shit, I didn’t even feel that.” She grimaced, spreading her fingers. The sheet metal on her gloves was ripped through in some areas, and it had apparently taken a few healthy chunks out of her knuckles and the backs of her hands. Blood dribbled over her palm and Danse felt… odd .

  “Knight Vega, what happened?” Danse asked in confusion.

  “I was in such a hellfire hurry to get you out of your gear and the fusion core in your suit was busted. I uh...I don’t really know.” Backhand admitted. “I went panic mode and muscled the manual release as fast as I could, basically.”

  “The manual…” Danse trailed off as she wiped some dried blood away with the hem of her undershirt. “You need to bind that. Your knuckles-”

  “Nah, I’ll be fine.” She flapped a bloodied hand at him. “I’ve had worse.”

  “It’s irrelevant whether you’ve had worse, the fact of the matter is that right now, you’re the one who needs to protect us.” Danse shot back, a little annoyed with her carelessness. “Who knows what could be lurking out there? Everything in the neighborhood must have heard the suicider explosion.”

  “Ah, okay. Sorry, I’ll…you think a Stim would put this back together? Or should I save those for later?” She asked hesitantly.

  “Did you take any Stims from the Prydwen?”

  “No, I didn't want to take any resources from you guys.” Backhand shuffled through her pack, carefully counting out everything that she had. “I only have three Stims left. Wasn't expecting this detour.”

  Danse cursed under his breath, pushing to sit up by propping his back against the wall. The Stim that she had given him was doing its job, of course, but it would be several hours before he was fit for duty again. Anything could happen in that time. “Come here.” He ordered, disliking the sideways look she gave him. “Let me see your hands.”

  “H-Hey, I'll probably be fine. It's no biggie.” She protested, putting her left hand into his own all the same and then wincing. Danse, his brain jerkily reminding him that he was probably being a little too rough, nearly dropped her hand when he tried to casually loosen his grip. Alright, maybe he did spend more time than necessary in his armor. The truth of the matter is that Danse felt like a raw nerve without the comforting weight of plate metal on his body, exposed and too… soft .

  “I'll wrap this.” He decided aloud after several moments of careful manipulation to make sure her fingers weren't broken. Danse flipped open the small pouch by his hip, tugging out a tiny roll of bandaging and a nonstick gauze to dress her knuckles. “What? A Brotherhood soldier is always prepared.” He huffed when he noticed Backhand staring at him.

  “I gotta' get one of those.” She said, gesturing at the pouch. “Is that included in the suit? Or do they come separate from the requisitions officer?”

  “I can put in a supply order for you, if you'd really like one. It has...look, there's loops here. You could hitch it to your combat armor.” Danse loosened the bag and showed her the plethora of MOLLE straps on the back, chuckling a little when she made a clumsy attempt to snatch it out of his hands. “Mm, nice try. I've been around Haylen and Rhys. You've got nothing on either of them when it comes to pilfering my supplies, Vega.”

  “Can’t blame a girl for trying.” She grinned ruefully. “I really ought to be nice to you. After all, you saved me from pretty certain death.”

  “I did?” Danse thought back momentarily and then remembered gauntlet slamming shut on the strap, whichever strap, doesn’t matter, shoulder-ribs, just be enough to hold her weight --He felt his face go hot recalling the unwarranted contact between them. “It was a…reaction. Sometimes I think I move too quickly for my mind to keep up.”

  “Lucky for me, I guess! Maybe the Sarge's bandanna is rubbing off on you.” Backhand got to her feet, stretching her arms over her head. She had peeled her Vault suit down and tied the sleeves around her hips again, the fabric pulled tight from her motions.

  Danse forced his eyes elsewhere, the sweat on his forehead having nothing to do with the Rad-X. What the hell is the matter with you? He scolded himself. Since when do you ogle women like this?

  “Do you think we should stay here tonight, and try to get to your armor tomorrow?” Backhand asked.

  “We have to. I’m not leaving it there indefinitely.” Danse cringed as he thought of the state his armor would be in. “I would like to go after it tonight, but I am…not in peak condition.” God , that stung to say. Whether he liked it or not, it was the truth.

  “ Hell no, not tonight. I’d rather let you sleep off the Stim and Rad-X, have you in fighting shape bright and early tomorrow morning.” Backhand gave him a look that was actually fond and the ache mounted up in his throat once more. “I’ll take first watch.”

  “Put your armor on!” Danse barked as she moved to the door, his voice harsher than he had intended. “You--I-I mean, you need to be prepared, Knight.” He tried to play it off, tried to relax his posture a little. He had nearly stood, shaky fingers crushing the rotted windowsill to try and support his weight.

  She waved her bandaged hand at him, as if to say hush , but still buckled her chest plating back on. Danse knew her moments of insubordination should have been worrisome. Had he gotten too complacent, too used to the less stringent requirements of fieldwork?

  He did let Rhys and Haylen slide. He just couldn’t stand the two of them dancing around each other anymore, it was maddening. Rhys talked a great game, he always had, but Danse would have to be blind not to notice the knight’s care for their scribe. It wasn't technically against regs, of course, but Danse knew if anything he ought to put his foot down. As their senior ranking officer, if the relationship went south between them he would be dragged into it. It was hard to justify it though, when he saw the two of them all curled up with one another.

  Better that they enjoy themselves now. Life could be so incredibly short.

  …

  “Hey, what’s your deal with the muties?” Backhand asked curiously. He had gotten a boatload of pre-war nonsense out of her, she figured she had earned at least one question. “You lose one of your own to them or something?”

  Danse made eye contact and Backhand’s breath caught in her throat. He looked positively worn, fragile , like all the life had gone out of his body. With an expression like that , she expected a great (if sad) story. All she got was a soft “ Yes ,” spoken in a voice thick with emotion.

  When it became apparent that that was the end of it, Backhand cleared her throat and readjusted the dingy pipe pistol in her hands. She proceeded to methodically count her bullets, trying not to make him feel like she was waiting for the rest. The experience left her shaken. She had thought Danse to be the typical soldier, but it was obvious now that there was much more to him than that. He clearly cared deeply for the wellbeing and safety of each member of his team, possibly too much for him to escape unscathed. He was one of those , she realized, practically a kindred spirit to her dearly departed senior officer Sergeant Cathan. Courageous, firm, the shelter in the storm. A true embodiment of everything a soldier should strive to be.

  “ I could not feasibly promise anything…it was not within my power to promise. ”

  She noticed Danse pull the bedroll up around his shoulders as if he was cold. There was a sharp wind that blew through the old station on top of the hill, but Backhand, New Englander to the end, barely felt it. She leaned on the worn bannister of the stairs, her eyes squinted against the darkness as the stars brightened overhead.

  There was more rustling from behind her and she assumed that Danse was doing his best to make himself comfortable on the old mattress, his frame a bit… large for the task. Backhand snuck a peek and was relieved to see him curled up in her bedroll, his back to the wall and eyes closed.

  She hoped that Paladin Brandis made it to the Prydwen safe and sound (and that her armor was still in one piece). She may have hoped a little harder that Brandis was already giving Maxson a run for his money. The idea of Maxson being thrown off his game made her snicker quietly to herself.

  Her good humor faded all too quickly when she recalled that there was nothing keeping them out here and away from the Prydwen once they finished cleaning up Weston. If something shifty was going on between Danse and Maxson, it wouldn’t be long before they were back in the thick of it. She cast another glance at the large man after she heard him mumble something, watching him shift around in the sleeping bag. There was an odd vulnerability to him when he slept, which she remembered all too well from their time in the police station.

  The wan sunlight hadn’t woken him as she scribbled her note, but he stirred when she placed the paper down on the floor beside his head. His bedroll was bunched uncomfortably at his elbows and she took a selfish moment to kiss his forehead and then tug the fabric up around his shoulders. It couldn’t hurt, she reasoned with herself. He had hummed in his sleep and snuggled down into the warm embrace of the bedroll. It made it incredibly difficult to leave, even with the two Mister Handy units cheerily patrolling the courtyard. If something happened…

  Well, it didn’t really bear thinking about. Backhand had the feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time she and Danse would meet.

  …

  Backhand woke him for his watch shift at almost exactly two hundred hours. She looked fatigued and Danse ignored the protest of bruises on his body in favor of more quickly freeing up the mattress. “Got it warmed up for you.” He yawned, chuckling when she poked him in the ribs.

  “I bet you did, you big furnace.” She teased, her eyelids already drooping. “Nothing to report, sir. All’s been quiet.”

  “Carry on, Knight.” Danse saluted out of habit, scooping her combat armor up off the floor and beginning to adjust it to fit his own body. Once he was in some semblance of protective equipment, he snuffed the lantern on the bedside table and took his place at the window. He borrowed Righteous Authority from her, seeing as his rifle was back with his power armor. Probably lying on the ground, covered in super mutant gore. Danse frowned unhappily.

  His night vision had always been impeccable, with or without his helmet. Danse scanned the landscape for threats, glad that they at least had the high ground. If anything tried to attack, he would know well before they arrived.

  The Commonwealth was almost peaceful at night. Once all the raiders had bedded down with one another and the ferals had retreated to their holes, a tenuous calm reigned that was usually only broken by clans of ambitious super mutants or radscorpions.

  Danse rested his weight gingerly on the wall, afraid that it may not be able to support him in its decrepit state. Thankfully it held fast and he relaxed after a moment. His pulse was still quick enough for him to be slightly anxious. It was a normal leftover from using a Stim, but he disliked the feeling; epinephrine and adrenal-sour in his mouth while his heart slammed a tattoo on his ribs.

  Danse fought the desire to shake himself, certain that Backhand wouldn’t appreciate being woken up by the percussion of poor-fitting combat armor. Though she had mentioned that her son could sleep through anything, “ just like his mommy .” He imagined being on the front lines, getting your meager rest wherever you could and going for weeks without seeing a real bed would probably do that to a person. Lord knew he had a hard time readjusting to the quiet safety of the Prydwen after clocking lengthy stints of fieldwork or skirmishes with the Enclave.

  He had dreamed of Cutler again. Danse exhaled slowly through his nose, fighting the tremble of his hands. Mercifully the dream had faded well before Backhand woke him. He wasn’t sure how he would have reacted to being shaken awake while still in the grasp of his memories. He shook his head, propping the barrel of Righteous Authority up on the windowsill. He couldn’t go on like this, haunted by the echoes of a man who had ceased to be. True, they had a bond. A bond which Danse had naively believed was unbreakable. But when Cutler had gone missing…

  Danse was no stranger to horrifying experiences. Centaurs, super mutants and ferals plagued his nightmares, nightmares which inevitably led to an enormous super mutant hive in the Capital Wasteland...

Part Six

[1zashreena1]

Diego Requests an Audience -1

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess gets the rich bad boy equivalent of a call the next day from what she thought was a fairy tale of a one night stand.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and 'the code is more like guidelines' outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Mentions of drugs/alcohol use, no actual smut in this one but references to multiple forms of sexual activity with m/f dynamics, plus size woman+fit man, early stage sugar daddy vibes, bad boys with too much money and not enough impulse control, secondary OCs, excessive swearing (???), illegal business dealings... I mean, its DIEGO

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me. If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I'm not a fan of "plot" so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

Constructive criticism is always welcome. I'm an old timer at Fandom but a baby content creator.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read @chelsfic Princess pieces first, that is the beginning.

https://chelsfic.tumblr.com/post/613340476058304512/princess-for-1zashreena1-diego-jimenez-x

https://chelsfic.tumblr.com/post/618297838815920128/princess-awakes-diego-jim%C3%A9nez-x-reader-ficlet

Last thing before Murder Panther, I promise!

Huge, tremendous, throbbing THANK YOU to @chelsfic​ !  My fanfic creator mommy, I could not and would not have done this without you or your devious reverse psychology  You're gonna have to thwack me super duper hard with a rolled up newspaper to get rid of me because ily.

Massive shoutouts to @symbiont13​ @rosee-sensuelle​ @bunnykjm​ @mandoplease​ @nicke0115​ (y’all know what you did)

You're sitting in your car on your lunch break listening to the same song for the seventh time in a row because that is a thing that you do. When you like something, you like it. The song has pounding bass, if you close your eyes you can almost imagine being in a club. You never did get to do much of that, your twenties were spent working two jobs and sleeping in your car sometimes, so your just passed birthday weekend escapade was really something else. You've never done anything like that before and it was-

Ding-DING

Your phone chirps with a text message from an unknown number. You peer at the screen with a furrowed brow, I don't know anyone in California, must be a wrong number. You open the message cautiously, who knows what kind of weirdness it might be. 

Good morning Princess

What. No. There is no way. Absolutely not possible. Un uhh. Nope.

You should come back to NYC. I want to have you again.

Holy fucking shit. Its really him. It's Diego. Its Diego of the big brown eyes, even bigger hands, and absolutely the biggest cock you have ever seen. Diego viciously-gorgeous stupefyingly-rich incredibly-dangerous exhaustingly-insatiable Jimenez. 

Whom you most definitely did not Google upon your return home only to discover that he is an international criminal. Yeah, he's criminally hot.

You really do wish that little voice in the back of your mind was helpful. 

Yes, but he was nice to you. Really not helpful. How many times did you even come that night? There was the bed, the floor, over the back of the sofa, the kitchen counter (which he referred to as 'snack time' because he ate, and wasn't that adorable), and then that kiss/invasion of your oral cavity before you left. After he made you breakfast. And gave you a pair of Ugg boots that were magically in your size because it was cold out. Okay, so he was REALLY nice.

Wait. I didn't give him my number, what the fuck.

Hi Diego

And you hit send before you can stop yourself. What in the actual fuck am I doing?

I knew you remembered me. 😉Come up here this weekend. I want you

He wants you. He said it himself. Oh my god oh my god oh my god. Like, want-want? He saw you naked in broad daylight so he definitely knows what you look like. I want you, your mind just keeps repeating it. Hold up, is an international drug lord, cartel boss, top ten FBI most wanted man texting you with emojis???

I hadn't really budgeted on another trip so soon

Is that too much? Are you revealing your pathetic poor-ness and he definitely will not be into that?

Please🤚 Do you want to come?

Oh lordy, but he knows exactly how to word things. 

… I mean, yeah. Preferably repeatedly

Okay, yes, you've always been a pervert but something about this man only encourages you. Surely it wasn't how he laughed every time you made an innuendo. 

Then I've got you 💵😙 Princess👑

Do you want a hotel or stay with me?

Harrisburg is your nearest airport, yes?

Never before in your life have you had cause to use the word 'Baller' but here you are. Is he seriously going to fly me to him? Am I seriously going to go? What level of booty call is this?

Penthouse. Spoil me 😏

And yes Harrisburg. What are you going to do, fly me up there?? Lol

At this point you might as well see how far you can milk this. Also, apparently he knows where you live?

...yes. I have a private jet. I'll text you the info. We're going to have fun little girl😈

Well damn. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You send the entire conversation to Lisa in three screenshots. She calls you at 4:37 while she knows you're still in the car and you spend the entire drive home screaming together as best friends do. 

"I can't believe him! A private jet? Oh my god girl, you better bring home some stacks!"

"I know! Like, what the fuuuuuuuuuck! Lisa, Lisa, oh my god, Lis, what the hell should I pack?! Oh no, oh shit, I don't have any sexy pajamas!" Your high is coming crashing down. Its Tuesday, so you have two whole days to figure this out.

Her laughter is so loud it makes your speakers crackle. "After what you told me from that first night it sounds like you better pack a case of lube and an ice pack!" She dissolves into hysterics.

Well, she's not wrong. "Dude! I was so sore, I couldn't walk for days. This shit is BYOIP: Bring Your Own Ice Pack!" Lisa shrieks while you howl with laughter. 

"Okay, okay. Meet me at Macaroni Grill and we'll formulate a strategic plan of attack over carbs. We have to go to the Frederick's of Hollywood outlet." Lisa is already crafting a plan. 

"See, this is why you're my BFF!" You proclaim before you whip across three lanes of traffic to change course. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You take way more clothing than you could possibly need for a weekend but better safe than sorry. The private jet looks like it came straight out of a music video, you're afraid to even think about how much this costs. Hell, he even paid to have your car valet parked in the only locked and guarded parking garage at this tiny regional airport. There are all kinds of snacks and drinks on the plane, there's even a tiny galley and what looks like a daybed. Noted for later.

The driver who picks you up at the airstrip in New York is Bastian and he is pleasantly surprised that you talk to him. You're pleasantly surprised at how nice Escalades are on the inside. The last time you were in this vehicle you were a little, ahem, distracted.

Diego is extraordinarily pleased to see you wearing the Ugg boots he gave you. The man is all growly innuendo and (mostly) gentlemanly manners, the contrasts are mind-meltingly hot. The weekend passes in a blur of a good time; orgasms, a stroll through some really expensive stores, more orgasms, two clubs on Saturday night, another set of orgasms (Did I really let him finger me in a VIP booth??), your first time trying weed, a sleepy orgasm in a jacuzzi tub (Wet Diego, so gorgeous), the best brunch of your life, another first by having orgasms while on top of a man, and, just before you leave on Sunday evening, a very nice Brahmin purse that you gawked at in one of the stores on Saturday. 

Yet again, Diego corners you by the elevator and attempts to climb down your throat before you're allowed to leave. You have no complaints.

~~~~~~~~~~

The very next Monday you get an extremely sweet text very early in the morning thanking you for coming (all puns intended). Wednesday brings a cookie bouquet to your front door with a note stating that you don't seem like a flowers kind of girl. Incredibly early on Saturday morning is another text, he sounds like he might be a little drunk, confessing that he wants to do it again. 

You forward the message to Lisa with your own addition:

Look, all I'm saying is I'm gonna take this top shelf dick and all the gifts that come with it for as long as he wants to give it to me

It only progresses from there.

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

It takes a pack to raise a pup

“This is bad... What am I going to do?!” The gofer nervously paced around the infirmary, clutching the bitten arm in his hand before turning to face the Janitor “Please tell me that this is just a bad joke!” He pleaded “Please tell me that this is just a mistake...”

“Sorry ta break it to ya Bud.” The janitor lowered his cap down in sympathy. “But I ain’t jokin’ and I ain’t wrong about this: dat ova here is definitely a werewolf bite. I should know, I saw what my table an’ chair legs looked like after my first few full moons.”

As this was a very serious situation, he forced himself to hold back his laughter at the intrusive memory of his wife telling him that her solution to keeping him from turning the furnature into his chew toys was to swat his snout with a rolled up newspaper every time he ignored his bones and squeaky toys in favor of the table legs. This resulted in him letting out a noise that sounded like a cough.

“B-but what about my Ma and Grandpa?! They don’t even know that monster stuff goes down in the studio! How am I supposed to explain to them that every month, I’m going to turn into a blood-thirsty monster!?”

“If ya don’t wanna tell ‘em, they don’t have ta know.” Wally shrugged. “A lotta wolves don’t tell even their closest family members.”

“What if my Ma questions why all my clothes are getting ripped up?! What if Grandpa finds out when he sees me turn for the first- Oh no... WHAT IF I BITE THEM?! WHAT IF I EAT THEM AFTER I TURN?! WALLY, WHAT IF I END UP KILLING THEM?!”

Buddy felt sick to his stomach as he slumped down to the floor, Wally sat down next to him and patted his back.

“Hey Buddy, you’re gonna be fine. Trust me! There’s a ton of werewolves here at dis studio, none of us would mind showin’ ya the ropes or givin’ ya some good advice for dealin’ with this. Who knows, it might even be a little fun ta get a new pup in the pack.”

“Uuuugggggghhhhhhhhh...”

The Janitor’s words and smile didn’t reassure the nervous gofer, if anything, hearing that he and Wally weren’t the only wolves in the studio made Buddy wonder if the monster that bit him last week was one of his own coworkers. As he thought about it, The wiry music director who was in a constant state of irritation seemed like he was a good candidate to be the wolf who bit him...

He would be lying if he said he couldn’t imagine the man sinking those sharp teeth of his into a human being’s flesh.

“Buddy, c’mon, look at me. It’s gonna be okay, I’m not gonna lie to you, changing is always scary the first few times but you don’t have to do it alone. I can rally up the pack if ya need all of us or I can just keep this between you and me, but no matta what happens, I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks Wally...” He sighed as he still dreaded what was to come. “How soon can you get them?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ta-daaaaa! Welcome to werewolves not-so-anonymous!”

Wally unfurled the crudely-made banner as Buddy walked into the break room, Susie clapped, Henry smiled and gave a friendly wave, and Lacie looked bored and unamused but gave a thumbs up and a half smile.

The gofer let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t know he was holding in. Wally alone could’ve been an outlier among werewolves but not all of them. He knew most of these people; the voice actress was hands down one of the most infectiously cheerful people he’d ever met, The Head Artist was a patient and kind man who the gofer looked up to as both an artist and a father figure, and while he didn’t know the mechanic very well aside from the facts that she wasn’t the most friendly or social of people, she didn’t seem half bad.

These people weren’t monsters, he wasn’t a monster.

“Alright, I know a some of us here already know each other but others don’t so lets start ourselves off with some introductions. Who’s going first?”

“Okay. Hi, I’m Buddy, I’m the studio’s gofer and I got bitten pretty recently so I’m kinda scared about all of this...”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the day of the full moon, Henry rented a van with the intent to take the werewolf pack to a cabin in the woods so that Buddy’s first transformation would be in a secluded area.

“So how’d your folks take it?” Lacie inquired to break the silence. “They didn’t look happy when we picked you up.”

“They took it better than I expected, I guess?” The gofer sighed “I mean, my ma seemed pretty scared, but she seemed more scared for me than scared of me.”

“Yeah, that tends to happen...” Henry nodded.

“Guys, I have a question”

“Go for it.”

“If Sammy’s not a werewolf, then why is he coming with us? Wont he get turned?”

The music director rolled his eyes and took a very long sip from his coffee, he also wasn’t looking forward to tonight but for a very different reason.

“Nah... Don’t worry.” Lacie laid back and stuck her boots up on the dashboard. “Hell’s Songbird is cursed with something else so he’s immune to lycanthropy.”

Nobody noticed that the man had flinched at Lacie’s statement.

“...Is he basically an unofficial member of the pack?”

Wally and Susie’s eyes lit up at the question and they smiled at each other before answering.

“Yes.”

“Definitely.”

“Absolutely.”

Wally broke down laughing as Susie broke out her stage voice, even Buddy let out a soft chuckle at her dramatic movements.

“The grumpy banjo man is indeed the pack’s loyal brother, not by blood or spirit, but by true love-”

Said grumpy banjo man turned to face the back seat, the regular irritation in his voice gave way to a sarcastic, deadpan tone.

“If you people genuinely think I ‘love’ getting chewed, slobbered on, roughhoused with, pounced on, and ripped apart by a pack of near-mindless wild animals almost every single month, then you’ve probably been huffing too many ink fumes.”

“Yeah, yeah, so bein’ the ‘designated driver’ of da group isn’t always fun... But ya do it ‘cause you looooooooooove us!”

Henry sighed in a mix of annoyance and acceptance in a way that implied he knew exactly what was going to happen next.

“I’m a married man.” Sammy continued to deadpan. “I thought you knew that by now.”

This response only egged Wally on.

“Psssst! He’s not denyin’ it!” The janitor stage-whispered “So it must be true!”

“Shut UP Franks.”

Sammy huffed and crossed his arms, but not denying Wally’s statement, which led to a loop of Wally’s teasing and Sammy’s fruitless attempts to shut the conversation down, which was only ended by reaching their destination.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buddy felt goosebumps as the van pulled up to the cabin and the sun slowly started to dip down.

“Here we are.”

“Finally! I swear, every single car ride I have with that. walking. headache. becomes the longest one I’ve ever endured.”

“Hey!”

The cabin itself probably looked like a much more warm and inviting place during midday, but as the shadows of the trees started to cast down on the humble little abode, it looked almost sinister. Although, that could’ve just been Buddy’s imagination working against him.

He hoped it was just his imagination working against him.

“Fuck, it’s gettin’ dark real fast.” The mechanic remarked as she looked at the sky. “Should we slap the meat on the grill now or just wait after we change and eat it raw?”

“We should wait.” The animator replied. “At this rate, if we try to cook it we’ll change before it’s halfway done.”

Buddy helped carry things into the cabin; a cooler, a couple of blankets, a duffle bag filled with dog toys and bones, they all seemed like reasonable items, but he couldn’t deny he felt something was missing.

“Hey Sammy, you’re looking out for us after we change, right?”

“Unfortunately.”

“So where are the ropes and chains? And isn’t there supposed to be bear traps and tranquilizers or something like them?”

The musician raised an eyebrow at the gofer.

“...Why would we need those?”

“...To tie us up and keep us from killing people?”

Sammy’s Jaw dropped at Buddy’s suggestion.

“Holy fucking shit... kid, you’re not turning into a monster, you’re just becoming a glorified puppy.”

“But you said it yourself, you get ripped up!”

“So?” Sammy scoffed. “That’s just what all dogs do.”

“He’s more of a cat person than a dog person.” Susie called out from the kitchen “Take everything he says about werewolves with a grain of salt.”

“Easy for you to say!” Sammy called back. “You’re not the one who had to cover over ninety-seven miles in different directions to round up a bunch of whimpering wolves because SOMEONE decided to set off a bunch of firecrackers just as the moon rose!”

“Hey!” Wally called out. “I said I was sorry!”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was time.

Like it or not, he was going to become a beast.

He knew the others’ own transformations were happening right now, he heard their bones snapping and cracking, the changing shadows cast on the floor as he dashed to his own room praying that he’d make it in time.

In the madness, he saw a glimpse of what Sammy’s curse was. He wished he didn’t see that, it would’ve so much easier to trust Sammy’s protection if he didn’t know that burden of the musician’s curse was like a werewolf’s curse except the ‘wolf’ part was scratched off and replaced with something else. The chill that ran down his spine when his eyes met the monster’s also didn’t help.

Buddy locked himself in his room, quickly taking off his clothes so they wouldn’t get ripped during the change and wrapping himself up in the provided blankets to keep himself from seeing his own transformation.

His heart pounded against his chest as he heard someone whimpering and scratching at the door on the other side.

“Focus, Buddy...” He tried to reassure himself. “Deep breaths, don’t get scared...”

He highly doubted he’d be lucid for his first full moon, but the idea of losing his mind and becoming a ravenous monster just didn’t sit well with him, So he tried his best to stay ‘awake’.

No matter how hard it was.

The curse started off his own changes with either his skin, his senses, or his mouth. He didn’t know for sure as it felt like all three were happening at once as he spat out a bloody mouthful of his own teeth into his hands and watched fur sprout up all over his arms, the taste and smell of blood in his mouth and on his now paw-like hands, as well as the smells and sounds of everything else in the cabin was overwhelmingly nauseating. 

“D-don’t freak out... the others have been through this lots of times... this is completely normal... Stay calm Buddy...”

He tossed aside the teeth and threw himself deeper into the blanket pile in spite of his body’s increasing temperature and new fur coat. The gofer couldn’t tell if the whimpering he heard was coming from the other wolves scratching at the door or from him.

The next thing the curse went after was everything else; muscles, bones, etc.

It was painful, but at the very least it was fast, he didn’t even have the time to whine for mercy before the malevolent force of the werewolf curse stopped. Buddy let out a sigh of relief as he dug himself out of his blanket cocoon.

He looked at the mirror and saw a frightened looking young wolf, his eyes still looked human and his fur seemed to match the color of his hair. While he didn’t like looking at this and calling it his reflection, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud of himself. In spite of fear trying to drive him to the same level as a wild animal, he was still him.

Or so he thought as he was startled by the sound of his door unlocking itself and creaking open.

He let out a yipe and started to bare his teeth and growl at the weird beaked creature that poked its head into his territory. The said creature was not impressed in the slightest and simply came into the room.

Buddy growled louder and snapped his jaws at the creature, his ears laid back and his hackles bristling straight up. While the creature did move away from his bite, it was still not impressed. Out of desperation, he lunged at the black-feathered beast, desperately trying to scare it out but the monster looked like it had dealt with this before as it glided out of the way of his attack and picked him up by the scruff of his neck.

The young wolf flailed, bit, clawed, and snapped at the creature. But he could swear that the beast’s only response to Buddy’s last-ditch efforts to keep himself alive were to roll its eyes and toss the wolf out of the room.

And into the line of sight of two other wolves. Both adults, one of them had pitch black fur, the other one had dark gray fur, but both of them had curious almost human-like eyes.

Thankfully, they smelled familiar to him. Even as a human, he could always recognize the smells of cleaning supplies, bacon soup, and ink. As he got a little bit more used to his new senses, while most of the smells and sounds were still new, and there was too much of it, he could at least identify what they were.

The black wolf came closer to him and sniffed his face before licking it. The other wolf pawed the first wolf’s face away from his own. Assuming that this was just some kind of greeting, Buddy sniffed the first wolf’s face and licked him back, the second wolf let out a noise that sounded like an amused snort.

THUNK

A loud noise from the kitchen that came with a new smell made him realize how hungry he was. Assumingly all thinking the same thing, the three wolves dashed into the kitchen to see the toppled-over cooler being raided by two other wolves. The bird like creature was biting and flapping its wings at them, clearly trying to keep them away from the coveted red meats the cooler held.

“STOP. EATING. PLASTIC!” The creature cried out to deaf ears of the pack. “YOU’RE GOING TO GET YOURSELVES SICK! JUST WAIT FOR ME TO UNWRAP THEM FIRST!”

This tyranny would not stand with the wolves, united as a pack, the five starved beasts joined forces against the giant bird-monster that stayed between them and their food.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buddy woke up groaning with a headache, sore muscles, and an upset stomach the next morning.

Last night was a blur to the gofer, like a dream, the most of what happened during the full moon quickly faded from his mind as he woke up. If it wasn’t for the fact he could still see the bird-monster form of the music director looming over him in the cabin’s rafters, he would’ve chalked the whole thing up to just be a bad dream.

“Sammy?” He groaned. “What happened last night?”

“As soon as I opened the door, all of you ran to the fields instead of the woods.” The music director sounded like he was too tired to be irritated. “I tried to steer you back towards the woods because there was a barn over there, but as usual, none of you listened to me.” Okay, maybe he was still a little bit irritated.

“Oh no... Did I eat anything there?”

“No, but you did get your head stuck underneath a fence and whined until I let you out.”

Buddy blushed in embarrassment as he wrapped his blanket tighter around him.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, everybody does stupid things the first time they change.”

“So how come you didn’t change back?”

“My curse isn’t determined by the moon, it’s determined by... other things. I don’t like talking about it.”

Sammy wrapped himself up in his wings, ending the conversation.

“G’morning.” Wally set down a fizzing glass of water by Buddy, the Janitor looked more exhausted now than he did after a 12-hour deep clean of the studio. “Ya might wanna drink that, it’ll help with the headache.”

“Thanks Wally.”

He smiled as he sipped down the liquid, while the gofer knew that the changes weren’t going to be easy for him to adjust to, at least he had other people who were willing to help him through it.

[mitsususu]

Happy 100th Rec List!! 

ModLacy asked for my top favs of all time, so here it is! I reread these stories pretty regularly and if I was stuck on a deserted island, I’d pick the below 5 fics: 

“Cascades” (M, 152k) by orange_crushed

“Holy shit,” Howard says, crackling through the speakers. “You alive in there?” Lying is a sin, of course, but Steve’s not sure what else he can do. He’s already lied to the government and Bucky and God Almighty; and himself, himself most of all. He ought to tell the truth. That he’s not quite what they hoped for. That perhaps they should put him back into the ocean.

“Probably,” he says, instead, listening to Howard’s tinny laughter; and waits for the blast doors to unlock.

+ Alt WW2. From the Mom list. Steve gets powers, Bucky breaks from Hydra, and they are so in love it hurts. 

++ "He only has one try left in him. He only has one chance. He steadies himself. He takes a breath. Please, he thinks, through the hole in the world. Through the last window home. He can’t see the other side from here; just the light it gives off. Please, send me back somehow. Send me back as anything. As a bird that sings on his windowsill, but not too loud. Send me as a ray of sunshine that falls on him in the morning when the bed’s still warm; as someone who’ll always leave a newspaper in the booth for him at Harry’s. Please, send something. Send me back as a kindness. Please. Let me be something for him.”

-☆-

“Metallurgy” (M, 22k) by eyres, art by TheFriendlyPigeon

The battle quieted for the moment, the great metal giant turns, at last, and sees Steve. Dark, almost human hair frames a sharp, steel face - but, Steve is caught by its eyes. They’re bright silver, sparking in the sunlight, shot through with gray and blue, visible even at this distance. Something about them nags at Steve, calls to him, reminds him of…

Instead of making the Winter Soldier, Hydra transfers Bucky’s consciousness to a metal body, locking his mind within a prison of steel and programming. However, Bucky is stronger than they could’ve ever imagined.

+ WW2 to Avengers. From the Robot list. Bucky’s time is running out, and he only wants Steve to be happy. Yearning and devotion

++ “Bucky cracks open his eyes, silver glinting in the growing sunlight. “Steve?” he says and how had Steve not known it was him every time he said his name? No one says his name like that but Bucky.”

-☆-

“jamais vu” (E, 13k) by Claudia_flies

They’re all gathered in the top floor private conference room because Tony wants to set up a Strike team, and he’s making some really excellent points. The Avengers aren’t a stealth operation, Steve has to admit.

He just doesn’t like it.

+ Shrunkyclunks. From the Sex Pollen and a/b/o lists. After a mission gone sideways, omega Steve and alpha Bucky start having hot sex keeping each other company in the evenings

++ “What the hell are you doing?!” Steve bellows, kind of horrified at how he sounds like a scandalized maiden aunt. “Have you ever popped a knot in tactical pants?!” Barnes sounds near-on hysterical. “Kevlar is not known for its give as a fabric!” “You have it on pretty good authority right now that I do not have an idea of what it’s like to pop a knot in tactical pants,” Steve yells, and Barnes goes quiet.

-☆-

“Too Long We Have Tarried” (E, 19k) by kototyph

Bucky picks up the ring and holds it between them. “Steven Grant Rogers,” he says solemnly. “Will you marry me?”

+ Post WS. From the Fake Married list. Bucky’s proposal started as a joke, but quickly escalates to becoming a full-blown wedding. Along the way, Steve and Bucky address their actual feelings.

++  “When I got to Europe, to France, those first few months— everyone, every single guy in the 107 thought you had a sweetheart you were engaged to back home. I couldn’t figure it out, because I never saw or heard about a girl like that. I wondered for a while if you’d been hiding her from me. The guys, they said— they said, when things got bad you wouldn’t shut up about her. [...] Yeah, I was mad. Here was a girl I knew absolutely nothing about, and you were going to marry her? I couldn’t believe it. Some pretty little dame you hadn’t even wanted to introduce me to. [...] It didn’t occur to me until after... after the train. After almost everything. There was only one blue-eyed blond I knew you’d promised to marry.”

-☆-

“where can i put it down?” (T, 6k) by layersofsilence

The beach is deserted, and the waves loud. Today the very sea chatters, buzzing with the news: there’s going to be a mating. There are only four days between the announcements and the ceremony - and then Steve sees his mate’s face, and his heart sinks. He knows that face. He loves - he’d loved that face. Right up until he’d seen it again, and wasn’t that a laugh?

+ Fantasy AU. From the Mermaid list. Merman Steve has an arranged marriage but is still pining after a lost love from five years ago. The drama!!

++ “As if you ever would have come away with me! [...] When our plans were to leave the sea. You would’ve dried out and your steps would’ve felt like walking on knives-” “Fuck you,” Steve says; his vision blurs, his eyes hurt. He thinks he’s crying again, for the first time in years, but it’s hard to tell underwater. “I would’ve done it. It would’ve been worth it. I loved you.” That makes James jerk away like he’s been burned. Steve hates him. “Fuck you,” he says again, blurrily. “I don’t want to talk to you.” 

-☆-

*More Stucky Recs here

[shotsbyshae]

Devil’s Playground

Warnings: Language, Murder, Bloody, Smutty (18+)

Words: 2.1k

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Song: Devil’s Playground by The Rigs

A/N: Monster of the Week. The second part of Kill of The Night.

 You can tread where demons play.

3 Months Earlier

Silver. Iron. Salt. Holy water.

You had prepped Steve on the more basic monsters: ghosts, ghouls, vampires, werewolves, and demons. Ever the perfect student, writing in his notebook, as he asked follow up questions. This wouldn’t last long once you had America’s golden boy in the field though. Captain America wasn’t a killer and to be a hunter usually meant kill or be killed. This guy wouldn’t stand a chance and you could still hear the sound of Dean’s laughter on the phone at the idea of it. He was nothing like you, it takes a special breed to be a hunter and Steve Rogers wasn’t cut out for it.

“Here’s the address,” you handed him a slip of paper. “Meet me there around nine tonight. Don’t wear the suit.” You punctuated the last sentence, pointing your index finger at him.

“I’ll be there.”

And he was.

Early in fact, dressed in boots, jeans, and a long-sleeve blue Henley, which clung to every serum enhanced muscle a man shouldn’t even possess.

It was ridiculous.

You wish he’d worn the fucking suit instead.

“Ready?” he questioned you, which snapped your thoughts back to the task at hand.

“Yea,” you passed him a machete. “Remember, off with the head. That’s the only way.”

“Got it.”

The two of you had made your way into the rundown facility slowly, home to a small nest of vamps, four to six. Enough to be a challenge for you, but not enough to get Captain America killed.

What happened next you weren’t prepared for.

You had moved quickly, blade slicing easily through the first vamp who lunged for you, all while keeping an eye on Rogers. Two women rushed toward him while guttural snarls ripped from their chests as they revealed their fangs. Without hesitation Steve moved with more finesse than a hunter with twice your experience.

You hesitated.

He twirled the machete in his hand as two separate heads bounced off the concrete around him, bodies dropping where they stood. Another vamp was making its way towards him and you couldn’t tear your eyes away as Steve went toe to toe with that one. Why was he fighting it instead of killing it right off and you realized he wasn’t fighting, he was playing with it.

Like a cat with a mouse.

You stood there slack-jawed even as one lunged for you. A quick back handed swing and you had decapitated your attacker without even looking – perks of vamp hearing. Steve kicked the next guy, knocking him back, and you had saw the expression on his face.

He was enjoying it.

Captain America wasn’t a killer.

But is wasn’t Captain America, it was Steve Rogers.

His jaw clenched as he swung the machete with his right hand like a baseball bat. An almost primal sound escaped his lips, and you knew it was him, because there were no more vampires in the building.

Blood was splattered across his face, staining his shirt in small splotches of dark red. The muscles in his arm rippled underneath the material as he gripped the machete tighter in his hand. A slight rise and fall of his shoulders as his breaths came slow and shallow. He scanned the room slowly for anymore vamps, before his gaze landed on you.

The look in his eyes was cold – dark.

You had underestimated him.

For a moment you wondered if he’d kill you too.

“What?” he questioned you as you stared at him in bewilderment.

You shook your head, “Nothing.”

“You know,” he began as he pointed the machete at you, barely able to contain the morbid excitement in his voice. “I read a newspaper article earlier. I think there might be a werewolf two towns over.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes at him, “Easy tiger. One hunt at a time.”

Now

The ping of your phone alerts you to a text message and pick it up from your desk to read it.

Steve: Road trip? I have us a case.

You let out a sigh and quickly type in your response.

I can’t. I’m busy.

There’s an immediate knock on your door and you glance over in annoyance before standing up and moving over to open it.

“No, you’re not,” Steve states as soon as you pull open the door, brushing his way past you into your room.

“Really?”

“Tony’s out of the country. Everything’s quiet,” he says, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Let’s get out of here.”

He acts as if he didn’t have his tongue down your throat almost a month ago. Neither of you have brought it up, spent more time doing damage control on Tony finding out you’re a vampire. It was purely an adrenaline rush – blood rush. That’s why you stick to blood bags, less emotion that way.

“I don’t know Steve.”

“Please,” he says it softly.

It’s not like he can go to anyone else, no one else knows what you and he do in the shadows. A secret only the two of you share and you sigh because Steve Rogers is going to be the death of you.

“Fine.”

***

“No,” you stomp your foot like a hormonal teenager. “I’m done. I need a drink. A bed. A real shower. Preferably not in that order.” Steve stares at you, there’s blood splattered across your cheek and a chunk of something bloody and gooey in your hair. He reaches to pull it out gently, tossing it to the side before you can see it. “It’s been three days. First the ghost, then a wraith, now a ghoul. I need a break.”

The two of you have been going non-stop since you left the compound. He’d been going non-stop. You were only along for the ride. There’s a freedom in hunting, unlike anything he’s found before. The stress of being the strait-laced leader. The one everyone looks to for guidance. It can take a toll on even the strongest of men.

“Okay, I saw a hotel on the way in,” he comments.

“It better have a bar.”

It does, as well as large suites with king size beds and giant jacuzzi tubs, much nicer than the rundown fleabag motels you’re used to staying in. Being an Avenger has its advantages. Unfortunately, being a vampire has its disadvantages. You’re hungry. You hadn’t planned on being gone so long and now your out of blood bags. Having used your last one to heal the damage when the wraith had slammed it’s spike into your chest.

After a long, scorching hot shower, you get dressed and head down to the bar. Intent on drinking idly while searching for someone you can use. You don’t like it, but you won’t take much, and they won’t remember a thing.

 Steve stops as he enters the room, seeing you at the bar. The black dress you’re wearing is Romanoff’s, he recognizes it, wondering if you found it on the quinjet. Your legs on full display, shimmering in the blue glow of the bar lighting. Hair falls down around your face and your eyeshadow is dark, a contrast to the almost red tint to your lips.

It’s obvious you’re hunting a different prey.

Beautiful, breathtakingly so, is how anyone else would describe you, but they don’t know you like he does. Those manicured fingers can rip out hearts, he’s witnessed it.

He loved it.

You’re fucking dangerous, gorgeously so.

“Any luck?” he questions, moving to sit beside you at the bar.

“No,” your tone sounds irritated, “and I won’t as long as you’re sitting there.”

“So,” he remarks with that cocky grin you’ve grown to despise.

“Really? That’s low. I’m hungry,” you shake your head at him. “I would never stand between you and a cheeseburger.”

“Who said I’m standing in the way?” he leans back, raising an eyebrow as his hands subtly turn inward towards himself.

“Not a good idea,” you say, picking up your glass.

“You’ve done it before.”

Now he wants to talk about it, you think to yourself as you take a sip of your Crown and Coke.

“That was different,” you finally say.

“How so?”

“It was an emergency.”

“Bull shit.”

“What?” you cut your eyes over to him incredulously at his tone, the smug smile playing at his lips angering you.

“I think you liked it,” he says smoothly, “and I think that scares you.”

Steve watches your jaw clench, his words striking a nerve, causing a rage to boil just under the surface of your façade.

Madness contained.

You stand calmly and turn sharply on your heel, walking away from the bar without so much as a word to him.

He catches up to you on the elevator, sliding inside before the doors close and you roll your eyes as he leans against the opposite wall from you, arms folded across his chest.

“I didn’t – that came out wrong,” he stumbles over the words. “I’m sorry.”

You stare straight ahead, refusing to look at him, urging the elevator to move faster. Desperately needing to be away from him.

  “I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t ask me?” his words are soft.

You glance up at him as the doors open. How he can be so rough and cocky, yet soft and innocent at the same time still astounds and agitates you. He follows you off the elevator, walking past the door you stop at to his.

“I won’t ever ask,” you state as you open the door, glancing over at him. He’s swiping his keycard into the lock as he looks back you. “I don’t like who I am when I feed.” You begin to walk into your room, his next words stopping you for a moment.

“You should, because everything about you is amazing.”

There’s a moment of silence before you close the door to your room, leaving Steve to enter his alone. He tosses the keycard on the small table by the door before moving to sit in the desk chair beside the bed. Grabbing the remote from the desk he presses the power button, bringing the flat screen across the room to life and discards the controller haphazardly on top of the duvet cover next to him. He pulls the boots from his feet, staring blankly at the TV screen as a black and white film plays quietly.

The turn of the lock on the door which separates your room from his draws his attention away from the TV and he leans back in the chair. The door jerks open revealing you, still in the black dress, but your feet are bare, and you stride purposefully towards him. Steve locks his eyes with yours as you lower yourself onto his lap, a little roll of your hips making him shift under your weight. His hands are still at his sides, still unsure of what’s happening, and he feels you grab his right wrist in your hand. Watching as you pull his arm up between the two of you, keeping your eyes locked on his as you place your lips on his pulse point.

A soft, tender kiss.

The pure rawness of the moment twists something deep within him.  His free hand moves to the side of your face, thumb sweeping gently across your cheekbone as your lips part revealing your fangs. Strikingly white against the red tint of your plush lips. The slight pinch as you puncture the vein causes him to twitch against the fabric of his pants and you feel it, grinding your hips against him again. Desire pulsing through him as you draw him in. Watching your face soften from the ecstasy of it, your eyes full of need – for him.

When your lips pull away from his wrist, his hand drags your face to his, pressing his lips to yours gently. You taste like cherries and copper and it’s heaven. He tries to hold back, fighting the urge to devour you, but you don’t as you force your tongue roughly into his mouth. His hands tangle in your hair as yours tear at his pants. A wet, hot, need radiating from your core as you free him and moan against his tongue as you slide down around him. His fingers claw into your hips as he fills and stretches you with each rise and fall of your hips. He peppers kisses down your neck until he reaches the pulse point there, scraping his teeth against your skin until he bites down on your flesh, feeling you clench around him. The small cries that slip past your lips against his ear are raw and so intimate as he shatters you, that it’s enough to do him in.

He’s spent a lot of time fighting his demons. Not embracing his dark side.

Then you happened. Hunting and monsters.

You freed him.

He finally stopped fighting his demons.

Because your demons play well with his.

[starryevermore]

paradise island: a review

A note before we begin: everything above the cut will be spoiler free and will just be my general feelings about the story as a whole, the writing, and if I’d recommend it. Everything below the cut will include spoilers to explain my feelings about the story.

Rating: 3/5 stars

Visiting the North Shore had been a bizarre and unsettling experience, to say the least, but when they got home after vacation was over, he was going to suggest to Colby that they make a video about it.

Hell, no. Even better. Write a book. Videos melted away after a while, but a book? Books and stories solidified on the conscious mind forever. (91-92)

Overall, I enjoyed this book. I generally enjoy stories like this, but there were a few moments throughout the novel where things just fell a bit flat. 

While I was reading, I made a few notes, the first being that there was a weird juxtaposition between talking about more adult topics (drinking, women, sex, etc.) but in an odd, almost kid-friendly way. Some of the word choices were interesting, such as constant use of “fancy-pants”, “hottie”, “goofball”, “oddball”, and “doofus”, as well as the one moment where Colby said he hated “dicky” people and the moment where Sam said Colby was about to have an “emo-ruption”. (Though I did laugh a lot longer than I should have at “emo-ruption”.) It felt like they were still trying to make the story appropriate for their younger fans by using more kid-friendly language, while also appealing to their older fans by being like “look!! we drink!! and ooh look, we talked about smoking weed 👀🤪”. I wish they would’ve committed to one or the other, because it added an odd sense of disjointedness to the story that could’ve been easily resolved.

The other big thing I made note of was that there was a lot of “tell, not show” throughout. There’s a heavy focus on dialogue to progress the story rather than seeing into the boys’ inner thoughts and using other means to find out information. (I’m not one to talk, though, since I also focus more on dialogue than description.) It sometimes made it difficult to fully get into the story. I struggled with developing a picture of what the Belle Estate looked like, or what the other characters (beside SNC, Nate, and Alex) looked like. In terms of the boys, it seemed very reliant on us knowing who Sam and Colby are and what they’re all about (which is fair, since probably 99.9% of people who bought the book are fans of them but, if they want success outside of their audience, it could’ve been more descriptive in that regard). 

As for the big twist at the end, it was a bit lackluster. I’ll go more in detail on this in the “spoiler section”, but it kind of diminished everything that had happened throughout the story and left me wondering “what was the point?”. 

I was excited when I’d heard that the story was told through both Sam and Colby’s POVs, but, I’ll be honest, I saw little difference between Sam’s chapters than Colby’s chapters. The most difference was the almost stereotypical portrayal of Sam being the logical one while Colby being the emotional one. Aside from that, they were almost indistinguishable from me and I often had to flip back to the start of a chapter to remind myself of who’s head I was in.

Since that was all critical, here’s some things I did like:

I feel like, while the inner monologues were a bit lacking, Gaby did make up for it by making the dialogue between the boys really realistic to them. In this regard, she really nailed the portrayal of them. 

The depiction of the paranormal things was really great. I feel like those parts were the ones I could get most into the story. The way Gaby wrote them was so interesting and pulled me in. I wish there was more of these moments throughout the story, because I think they really showcased who Gaby is as a writer.

The convo where Colby called Sam “Velma” and then Nate asked if Colby was “Fred”? I really enjoyed that because (a) Scooby is my favorite thing in the whole world and (b) I chose Sam and Colby be Velma and Fred in my moodboards a month ago so just a lil fun moment for me.

Just how meta the book was. Like, the quote I included at the top? I laughed for way too long when I read that. 

There was a nice sense of nostalgia throughout, specifically when they brought up their YouTube channel, their Vine days, them being arrested, wining a Teen Choice Award, and Corey and the Shadowman. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and reminded me of how proud I am for how far they’ve come.

*slight spoiler here* Speaking of being arrested, there was a moment where SNC were contemplating escaping to the beach and they had a conversation if it was worth being arrested again. I really loved that, especially with how much fans joke about them inevitably being arrested again.

This is more for the person who designed the cover, but holy shit?? I loved it so much?? 

I don’t know if I would have picked this book up if it didn’t have Sam and Colby’s name attached to it. I will say, though, I finished the book in one sitting, which is pretty rare for me nowadays, so it was engaging. I think, overall, it was a great story with a great concept but it could’ve been fleshed out more. In some ways, it almost felt like this was a draft rather than a completed novel. 

That being said, for SNC’s first book and Gaby’s first time working with the boys, it exceeded my expectations. If they were to continue writing books together, I imagine it will get better and better as they get more used to each other and potentially open up more so that their characters become a more accurate depiction of them.

Overall, the book’s not something you really need to race out to get. I think, if you have a gift card or there’s some sort of deal or you need to spend a little more to get free shipping, it wouldn’t hurt to pick up Paradise Island. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t a great, top-tier novel in my opinion. That being said, if you do pick it up, I think you will enjoy the book.

Spoiler Avenue

The characterization of all four of the boys is a bit 2D. Sam’s logical and wants to keep the peace, Colby’s emotional and more of a wildcard, Nate’s focused on his schoolwork and flexing his vocabulary, and Alex? Well, I couldn’t get a good read on Alex until he sells out SNC at the end of the novel and even then, he didn’t feel so much like his own character, more like someone just present to further the plot.

Speaking of characters, the introduction of Trey was...meh. I wish we could’ve gotten more insight on why Colby was so adamant about not liking Trey and why Nate was so gung ho to ditch their plans to go to the North side of the island for this guy they barely knew. Finding out that Colby didn’t like Trey because he said college was the only way to success was such an odd thing? Like, undoubtedly there’s been many people who would’ve said that, so does Colby also dislike everyone who’s said that or is there a more specific reason he didn’t like Trey? Just...👏🏻 more 👏🏻 inner 👏🏻 thoughts 👏🏻 please 👏🏻 and 👏🏻 thank 👏🏻 you 👏🏻 

@golbrocklovely​ brought this up in her review but Colby’s fixation on the  mermaid statue of a 16-year-old was really odd. It probably wouldn’t have been as odd if Amy was aged up a bit to 18, but as a 16-year-old with the descriptions that were given? Yeah...not the vibe.

I also wasn’t a fan of how so many things plot-wise was just...told to the boys. They could’ve found some newspaper clippings or something, anything to make them put in a little bit of detective work. But for so much information to just be handed to them? It got old, and almost lazy. 

The big twist being that all of the paranormal stuff they’d encountered being a hallucination? God, that was so fucking annoying (though I did go back afterwards from the moment that they first arrived at the Belle Estate—starting as early as page 36—and it felt incredibly obvious knowing now that it was all drugs, so props to Gaby for dropping that many hints early on). To spend so much time making all of this scary shit happen just to turn around and say “HAHA JK THE BOYS WERE JUST TRIPPING BALLS” was such a cop out. It would’ve been more terrifying for it all to be real, make the boys question their beliefs and the reality of there being something out there that they didn’t quite understand. Though, there is something terrifying about not knowing you’ve been drugged and having hallucinated that vividly, but I feel like it didn’t quite fit in with the story. 

Alex betraying the boys? So interesting! This was one of the few things that made sense in terms of them being drugged. But then when he was betrayed when Pauahi (who’s name was misspelled a few different times in the book) escaped? Ugh, amazing. We love instant karma like that. 

Going back to the “tell not show” thing, I wish the sacrifice at the end would’ve been more detailed. For all of the paranormal stuff to be written off as a drug-induced hallucination, I would’ve loved if Gaby had leaned more into the horror of being used in a human sacrifice. There was more of a focus on Colby bargaining for his life, which is fair, but I would’ve loved to see more of the pure terror there.

That being said, the way Trey finally snapped out of it? *chef’s kiss* Loved that shit so much. And I loved the fact that Trey stayed behind in the end. It added a nice eeriness to the story that had been lacking since they debunked the paranormal shit as being hallucinations. 

Again, going back to my overall, thoughts, I enjoyed the book in general. Some things could’ve been fleshed out a bit more to reach its full potential. I wish they leaned more into the paranormal aspect and had more descriptions to balance out all of the dialogue, but other than that, I did enjoy the book and don’t regret buying it. 

[mycupoffanfiction]

1949

Bucky x Reader One Shot

Summary: Bucky, Steve and the Reader all end up in a simulation of the past, but when Bucky meets the faces of his past, he inadvertently causes the Reader pain when she wishes she’d had the chance to confess her love for him.

Masterlist

Warnings: SO MANY FEELINGS, fluff, angst, sadness, heartbreak (fluffy ending), language. 

Word count: Approx 7000

A/N: I’ll just leave this one here. I got the inspiration from listening to When the Party’s Over, by Billie Eilish, I couldn’t resist a soft ending though.

All taglists are always open 💖 sorry about any mistakes, this was a big boi to edit.

____________________________________

“What did you wanna talk about, doll?” Bucky asked, walking into the lab, that currently only you inhabited. You looked up from your computer and smiled at him. You were an engineer and lab tech, one of the few that Tony trusted enough to let inside his lab along with Banner.

Having joined the team a couple of years ago, you were now a fully integrated member, meaning that you were living at the tower fulltime and while you weren’t super, as per say, you were very smart. Over the two years of your time with the team, you’d grown especially close to two super soldiers and even grown feelings for a certain Sergeant Bucky Barnes, which you were now about to navigate telling him on your peaceful Friday evening at the end of your work hours.

“Bucky!” You grinned, getting up from your desk and smoothing out your lab coat. “You have a good day?” You asked, stalling a little before you dropped the feeling bomb on him. “Yeah, it was good, I suppose. Beat Steve at combat training again.” He gave you a smug smirk, the one that had your knees buckling every goddamn time, not that he ever noticed. “That wasn’t what you were gonna talk about, was it?” Bucky asked, getting straight to the point, leaving you to wring your hands together nervously as your cheeks lit up with a light blush.

“Oh, um, well I was just going to tell you,” You paused, sucking in a deep breath, trying to coax yourself to do it. I think you’re hot. No, well yes, but no. You’re so cute and I wanna date you. Not quite. Please let me jump on you and- nope. Bucky gave you a questioning look, a small smile on his lips as he watched you hesitate.

“Would you like to-.”

“There you are!” Steve burst through the doors of the lab. “Hey sweetheart, been looking for this jerk all over the place, shoulda known he was with you.” Steve winked a few times at you, making Bucky scoff and your heart dropped a little at his reaction. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad that Steve had interrupted.

“So this is the thing Tony’s been working on?” Steve asked, skirting around the edge of the device, which looked sort of like a giant modified floor lamp with a lot of buttons on the control pad. “Mhm.” You nodded, watching as he carefully bent over to look at the confusing control panel. “Maybe don’t touch it.” You smiled, Steve nodding and stepping back. “Anyway, what were you sayin’ before this punk interrupted?” Bucky asked, eyes flitting between you and the machine, curiosity peaking as he eyed it.

You were their best friend, the boys adored you more than anything. They’d never even considered another person getting as close to either of them as they were, but when they met you, you somehow managed to wriggle your way into their hearts. You had become a now essential element to their every day lives. You were there when they had nightmares, when their PTSD flared up, when pretty much anything happened, you were there for it all. They had been there for you too, having been through your own past traumas, not that you had felt comfortable fully opening up about it yet though.

“I wonder what this does.” Bucky hummed, looking at the control pad. “Are you stupid? She said don’t touch it, Tony will have a heart attack!” Steve fretted, rushing over to pry the panel out of Bucky’s hand. “Don’t be such an old man, Stevie. I just wanna see how it works.” Bucky argued, pulling the pad back towards him, not quite realising that he’d managed to press several of the buttons.

“Uh, boys?” You called out.

“You’re no fuckin’ fun, you always gotta tell people what to do, you’re such a- such an asshole!” Bucky whined. “Well I wouldn’t have to tell you what to do if you weren’t always doing something stupid!” Steve argued back.

“Guys?” You raised your voice a bit, seeing the machine begin to power up and whir. “Oh shit.” You whispered to yourself.

“Besides, I’m the Captain, you’re just a Sergeant, I’m supposed to tell you what to do.” Steve said matter-of-factly. You rolled your eyes at their dumb rivalry and huffed.

“Well maybe if you-.”

“Both of you, shut up!” You screamed, interrupting Bucky.

Both boys paused and looked at you as if you’d caught them red handed with their hands in the cookie jar. Their cheeks warmed a little, seeing you look so mad at them both, which for you was unusual that you’d raise your voice like that, you were often so quiet and shy that you barely did much talking as it was. Suddenly the machine clunked and whirred loudly, a ball of bright white light forming and you stared at both of the boys and back at the machine. “We’re so fucked.” You hissed, taking a step back, but that couldn’t help what was about to happen. You were all engulfed in a sea of white light, the room going blank and the floor felt like it was pulled out from underneath you. You let out a little scream when you felt yourself falling and the light flashed so bright that you were forced to close your eyes.

You felt cold air waft through your hair as you fell and suddenly, you hit something hard and everything went black.

Steve landed rather haphazardly, stumbling a little from the force of the drop. He turned to see Bucky who landed with a wobbly roll and stood up straight, taking a second to get his balance and bearings. “Where are we?” Bucky asked, dusting his clothes off. “Good question.” Steve whirled around, looking at their surroundings. They were in an alleyway, which seemed to be empty except for themselves and a few rubbish bins.

“Sweetheart?” Steve called out, taking a few steps about to see if you were around. “Fuck, where is she?” Bucky immediately panicked. “This is your fault!” Bucky prodded Steve in the chest. “My fault? You’re the idiot who pressed the buttons!” Steve shouted, pushing Bucky back against the wall. “Don’t you pin this on me, our girl is out there somewhere all alone and it’s your goddamn fault.” Steve threw his arms up. Bucky stopped before he could mouth off Steve any more. “It was technically both of our faults.” Bucky sassed under his breath, earning a glare from his best friend who decided he wasn’t going to rise to the bait. He knew Bucky was right though. You were somewhere by yourself and it was their fault.

“Where the fuck are we?” Bucky asked quietly as they walked out of the alleyway. “Language.” Steve grumbled as he looked around. A pit in his stomach grew tight and heavy as he surveyed the area. Everyone was well dressed, it was as if they had walked into a forties mobster movie, but with colour. This had to be a joke, perhaps a movie set or some kind of event. Steve frantically spun about, his eyes flitting down to a discarded newspaper on a nearby bench and he stepped forward to grab it.

“Holy- fuck me.” Steve stared wide eyed at the paper. “Language.” Bucky imitated him, barely paying attention to the situation. “Buck, what’s the date today?” Steve asked quietly, the soldier next to him getting his phone out to check. “Twelfth of November.” Bucky grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he took in his surroundings. Steve stared at the paper a while longer before turning to his best friend. “It’s nineteen forty nine.” Steve pointed at the date on the paper, Bucky looking at him, slightly panicked. “You’re sure? This is real?” Bucky twirled around, looking at everything around him in fear. “Oh we are so fucked.” He began to breathe erratically. “We’re in nineteen forty-fucking-nine and we lost our girl.” Bucky’s hands slipped into his hair, clutching at the long strands as panic overtook him.

“Hey, hey, we can’t look for her if we’re panicking, you gotta breathe Buck.” Steve gripped his shoulders. “Come on, lets see if she’s around in one of the nearby streets, she can’t be far.” Steve hoped that what he was saying was right, if it wasn’t, he had no idea what he’d do, but he knew for sure that he’d do anything to get you back. Both of them would.

You woke with a groan, your head throbbed and everything hurt. You lifted your head, just enough to see where you were and you heaved out a sigh when you realised you’d landed on a pile of junk in an alleyway. You reached up to rub your head, your fingers immediately picking up the slick red that oozed from a nasty, long and open cut on the side of your head. Sitting up, you tried to orientate yourself a bit, but everything was a bit fuzzy and off and you had absolutely no idea where you were or what was going on.

Getting up from the junk pile, you huffed when you looked down at yourself, realising you looked awfully out of place, but you were thankful that you worked in a lab and therefore wore huge jumpers under your lab coat due to the aircon. You stumbled forwards a bit, sniffling as your nose started to run from the cold and you hugged yourself around the middle in an attempt to keep yourself warm. A guy across the street from you, dressed in a suit, gave you a strange look and scoffed before moving along quickly and you peered around the corner of the alley, feeling dazed and confused and wondering where your boys had gone.

Had they left you? Were you separated from them both? Oh god, you couldn’t fathom dealing with being in a different goddamn reality all alone. How the fuck were you supposed to get out? How would you know where the boys were? Your head reeled with question after question as you absentmindedly walked down the pavement.

You weren’t that surprised to see people from another time walking about. Tony’s machine was one that created pathways to alternate simulated universes. It technically wasn’t real as such, but you were trapped inside a simulation of the past, the people here would behave exactly as normal people would and if one of the boys ran into someone they knew, they’d have the memories of them before Steve and Bucky left for the war.

“Excuse me miss, are you alright?” A woman caught your attention and you looked up at her in confusion, still feeling a bit dazed. “Yes, I’m fine thank you.” You tried your best not to have your speech slur and the woman looked at you with a pained expression, but ultimately decided to leave you be. Perhaps you’d look less crazy if you took your lab coat off, at least the rest of your outfit wouldn’t so quite out of place.

***

“Which way?” Steve asked, looking about. “Oh my- Steve, I gotta, holy shit.” Bucky stammered, shooting off in another direction, leaving Steve standing in the middle of street without him. “Buck! Bucky come back!” Steve called after him, but he quickly disappeared into a group of people, leaving Steve by himself. “Idiot.” Steve grumbled, turning to walk in the direction he had intended in going, his eyes wandering across to a young lady carrying a white jacket, her head hung low and Steve paused to look at her walking on the other side of the street.

“Sweetheart?” Steve called, making a quick dash between cars to get to you, your head shooting up upon hearing his voice. “Oh thank god!” He gripped your shoulders. “Stevie.” Was all you could say as you fell into his side, letting him hold you. “I was so worried.” He whispered. “So was I.” You mumbled into his chest. “Where’s Buck?” You asked, looking around for him, Steve sighing, irritated. “He ran off, think he might’ve seen someone he knew.” Steve sounded less than impressed.

“What happened anyway? Did we go into the past?” Steve asked, feeling like that was a dumb question, of course they were in the past. “No, well yes, but not really.” You replied, Steve giving you a confused look, waiting for you to continue. “We’re in a simulation of the past.” You explained. “How do we get back?” He asked, trying to keep his voice low, people probably already thought you two were weird in your strange clothes, he didn’t need them hearing about simulations and whatnot. “I’m not too sure yet.” You sighed. “Tony said something about there being rift points in the simulation where you can travel back to the original entry point.” You explained. “Pardon my language, but what the fuck is a rift point?” Steve hissed. ��Uh, it’s like a portal thingy?” You shrugged. “I’ve never actually seen one, just been told what they look like.” You nodded, locking eyes with Steve. “Great.” He sighed.

“Come on, lets go and find Bucky and start looking for a rift point.” Steve gently gripped your arm and pulled you along with him.

***

“So you’re back now?” Rebecca Barnes asked from across the diner table, Bucky ma Winnifred perched next to him as Dot sat opposite next to Rebecca. “For a little bit.” Bucky nodded with a soft smile. “You’re leaving again?” Winnifred asked. “I know, I’m sorry ma, I can’t stay for long.” He sighed. “But you only just got home, darling, it’s been years.” She clutched at his arm, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I know, ma. I’m so sorry.” Bucky embraced her into his side.

“Come here, Becca.” Bucky stood up, opening his arms for his sister, who fell against his chest, trying so hard not to cry. “Please don’t go again, James. It was so hard without you.” She wept into his shoulder. “I lost you, I can’t lose you again.” She cried, his younger sister pulling at his heart strings. How was he going to face leaving again? This time knowing he would never come back. This was a terrible idea. He never should have approached them.

“I missed ya, Bucky.” Dot approached as Rebecca backed away, sitting beside her mother. Bucky gave her a smile, unsure of how to respond to that as Dot invited herself into his embrace, despite him never offering one.

“I wonder where he went off to.” You thought out loud as you looked about, Steve sticking close to your side and holding onto you tightly, as if you might just disappear if he let go of you. “M’not sure.” He sighed, glancing over his shoulder. “Hold on a second.” You frowned, walking towards a building. You stopped short, Steve going another step further when he realised you weren’t moving with him, your arm still looped with his and he looked back at you with concern.

You gasped, clapping a hand over your mouth as you looked on at the scene ahead of you. Bucky was in a diner with his mother, sister and Dot, who was passionately locking lips with him and your heart shattered. “Oh.” Steve whispered, knowing how you felt about his best friend and his heart ached for you. “Sweetheart.” He tried to pull you away, but you planted your feet down firmly, eyes glued to the pair as they kissed and tears sprang to your eyes.

Bucky wasn’t yours, but you loved him and had since they day you met him. Was all of his flirting just a joke for the last two years? Were the little kisses on the cheek meaning nothing? Were you just a sister to him? Stuck in the friend zone? You came to a simulation and he’s immediately all over Dot the way you wanted him to be with you and it took him two goddamn seconds to do it.

“Sweetheart, c’mon, at least we know where he’ll be when we find the rift.” Steve tugs you away. “Mhm.” You hummed in response. If he even wants to come back now that he’s reunited with them all. “Stevie.” You choked out, fighting the tears as you looked up at him. “I know, I know. He’s an idiot.” Steve sighed, knowing just how you felt about Bucky and he’d been encouraging you to speak up for a while. “Doesn’t see what’s right in front of him.” Steve rolled his eyes, trying to pull you away. “Come on, sweetheart, lets go.” He finally managed to pull you away and you tried to hide the tears that rolled down your cheeks as you trailed behind Steve.

“Look, I know it hurts, Bucky’s stupid. You’re the perfect woman for him and he wouldn’t know it if it smacked him in the face. But I need you to concentrate, you’re the only one who knows even a little bit about rift points.” Steve held you by the shoulders, gripping you tightly as you let the tears fall freely now. You worried your lip between your teeth as Steve reached up to brush your tears away, to no avail. “Okay.” You sniffed, attempting to compose yourself, but only sending yourself into another fit of sobs. “Okay, we’ll find one.” You nodded, using the sleeve of your jumper to harshly wipe away the tears, stopping yourself from glancing to the side to see Bucky and Dot through the window.

“Dot, it’s been a while.” Bucky took a step back from her, feeling a mixed bag of emotions surface and he wasn’t quite sure how to react. Winnifred seemed quite taken aback by the sudden public show of affection, especially after so long and Bucky had the mind to agree with his ma, only he wasn’t really sure how to speak anymore and he just sort of stared at all three of them.

“Right well, darling James, will you come back to the house?” His ma asked, grabbing his hand and stepping between him and Dot. “Of course ma.” Bucky nodded, focussing only on her and Rebecca. “See you around Dot.” Bucky smiled at her and turned away, but she reached out and took his free hand in hers. “Wait, Bucky, please.” She smiled, turning on her own alluring charm, but Bucky saw right through it and he wondered how on earth he had been just like that all those years ago. Perhaps it seemed right at the time, but he was young and while he never took advantage of those women, he still wondered how he’d ever had the courage to be so charming with them in a way that was so foreign to him now.

“Dot, I don’t think now is the right time, I need to catch up with my ma and Rebecca.” Bucky backed away, gently prying his hand from hers. “Go outside girls, I’ll catch up.” Bucky said softly, giving his sister a sweet smile as he watched them nod and walk away. “I’m not sure I can do this, Dot.” Bucky spoke truthfully once his mother was out of earshot. “It’s been too long, I’m not the same Bucky you knew all those years ago.” He gave Dot a sad smile, but she only smiled brighter. “All the more reason to catch up, don’t you think, Buck?” She asked, reaching for him again, but he backed away before she could touch him. “No, I’m sorry Dot.” Bucky shook his head and turned away, glancing over his shoulder to look at her one last time before he left the diner to join his family and walk back to their family home.

“Is that her?” You asked as you and Steve stood outside of a house, a fond smile on Steve’s face as he watched a beautiful, deep brown and slightly red haired woman walked along a pathway with her husband and a pram in front of her. “Yeah, that’s Peggy.” He smiled. “Do you want to-.”

“No, no she moved on, she’s happy.” Steve smiled, keeping out of Peggy’s line of sight as she walked by. “It’s good to see her again though, even if it is just a simulation.” Steve nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “She’s beautiful, Steve.” You smiled, having only seen Peggy in photographs. “That she is.” He nodded in agreement.

Steve gave you a soft smile, he’d accepted that Peggy was living a different life now and so was he. He was different now, much like Bucky and he doubted that he’d ever comfortably fit back into the old world he’d come from, despite sometimes dreaming of doing so. He just wasn’t made for it anymore, and that was okay.

You admired his acceptance of Peggy, in contrast to Bucky, who evidently wanted to be here more than anything and your heart ached and tugged itself apart in your chest at the thought. “I was going to tell him, y’know.” You spoke just above a whisper as you stood with Steve outside of a newsagents. “That I love him.” You clarified and Steve nodded, giving you a pained look of guilt and sadness. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.” Steve sighed, placing his hand on your shoulder. “Maybe if I hadn’t jumped in so fast, Buck wouldn’t have pressed any of those goddamn buttons and we wouldn’t be here.” He ran his hand down his face. “You would’ve had a chance to say it.” Steve murmured. “Maybe it’s best I didn’t.” You nodded. “Maybe he’s better off with the past.” It hurt to even suggest it and your heart felt like it was being squeezed and twisted like a stress ball.

“It’s my fault Steve, I took two years to even try to say something.” You concluded, stepping away from the front of the newsagents to walk down the street, Steve taking a few quick steps to be back at your side again. “Don’t blame yourself, sweetheart.” Steve put his arm around you and squeezed you gently before letting go and looping your arm through his, his hand resting on yours. “Buck might not want to be there, but I’m here.” He reassured you, making your lips tremble as you gave him a watery smile.

You allowed a comfortable silence to take over, too scared to use your voice, knowing that it would fail you and break while talking, but Steve didn’t seem to mind, he seemed to understand.

As you rounded a corner, Steve looked up stopped walking, making you tug on his arm and stumble back against him. “Uh, is that a rift point?” Steve asked, looking up at what appeared to be a tear in the fabric of the simulation and you took a moment to study it.

Bright white inside, looks like a tear in the scenery, slight hum in the air coming off it. It fit all of the description points and you nodded, looking over at Steve. “It’s the rift.” You confirmed. “Good, okay, will it move?” He asked, looking around, the inhabitants of the simulation obviously seeing the rift as something normal. Perhaps they didn’t even see it at all. “No, it’s a permanent placement.” You shook your head.

“Let’s find Bucky and get outta here.” Steve sighed, your mind worrying that perhaps he didn’t want to come back. Perhaps he wanted to stay and you weren’t sure what broke your heart more, never being able to be with Bucky or never being able to see him again.

“Thanks for the photos ma, I’m just going out for a walk, I’ll be back.” Bucky smiled over his shoulder as he moved for the front door of the house, a small bundle of photos slipping into his trouser pockets. His mother had taken him home and redressed him in his father’s old clothes, fed him fresh apple pie and shown him photos from the years he’d missed.

As he stepped out of the house, his breathing caught in his throat when he saw you and Steve waiting outside. He swallowed thickly, knowing you were going to ask him to come back and he was torn up by the very thought of having to decide. Perhaps he never should have approached his girls, but he’d missed his ma and sister so much that he just wanted to hold them again and tell them that he loved them.

“You had a good time, Buck?” Steve asked as he approached, Bucky’s heart sinking when you avoided looking at him all together. “See you slipped right back into things.” Steve sounded disappointed, obviously not approving, but Steve felt it was justified. Whether Bucky knew it or not, he’d just broken their best friend’s heart and was acting as if he was going to stay, which no doubt was like a further kick to the gut for you. Sure it was hard for Steve, but he’d already lost Bucky before, you’d never had that pain before, that heart wrenching ache.

“Yeah, I uh, I saw my ma and Rebecca. They gave me some photos.” Bucky nodded. “And Dot too.” Steve frowned, the mention of it had you shrinking behind Steve as you gripped his forearm. “You- wait you saw that?” Bucky asked, trying to peer around the side of Steve at you, but Steve wouldn’t let him, knowing you likely were on the verge of tears and didn’t want Bucky to see. “She alright?” Bucky asked, pointing at you and Steve gave him a look as if to say does she look alright, idiot?

 Steve sighed heavily and composed himself. “We found a way out, Buck.” Steve changed the subject. “We’re gonna go home.” He smiled a little at his friend. “Oh, I was hoping for a little more time.” Bucky looked down at his feet. Steve’s blood reached boiling point and he snapped. “Really? Because we just spent the last few hours looking for a goddamn way out while you played house with people who aren’t even real.” Steve lashed out.

“Steve, I-.”

“You broke her goddamn heart, seeing you with Dot like that. You arrive and five minutes in you’re already kissing your old flame, dressed in your old clothes and playin’ like you’re gonna stay!” Steve went on, Bucky looking at him confused.

What really concerned Bucky was the part about heartbreak and he moved his attention away from Steve, who was still shouting at him, to you who was standing behind Steve with glassy eyes and a look of pure hurt on your face. Heartbreak. He broke your heart when he was with Dot? The kiss. Oh. You were in love with him.

The realisation hit Bucky like a pile of bricks, followed by a damn freight train and he just stared at you wide eyed. How had he not noticed before? Of course you were in love, was he really that slow on the uptake? All the times you’d do things with and for him that no person who was just a friend would do. All the times you were there for him, things hanging on the line between platonic and romantic. The times you asked him to go for coffee or dinner with you and watch movies just the two of you with no Steve. God how had he been so blind to it? The midnight walks, the occasional hand holding, the quick peck on the cheek. Bucky felt like a fool.

That really complicated things.

“It’s not what happened doll.” Bucky blurted out, cutting Steve off mid rant, not that he’d even been listening. You avoided eye contact with him. “Dot came onto me, she kissed me, I told her I didn’t want it.” Bucky nudged Steve out of the way to get to you, but you just backed away and shook your head. “She was going to tell you she loved you before we got sent here.” Steve growled, stepping back in between you both again. Bucky’s eyes widened and he looked like a deer in the headlights, completely caught off guard.

This was all his fault. He’d shattered your heart to pieces and he was about to do it all over again, his own heart aching at the thought of what he was about to do.

“Come on, Buck, we gotta go back.” Steve sighed, the silence between them talking was filled with your little sniffles and it made Bucky almost tear up at how hurt you were. “It’s down on Withington Street, the rift to get home.” Steve thumbed over his shoulder. Bucky stayed silent for a moment and nodded. “I uh, I am home, Stevie.” He mumbled, a look of disappointed on Steve’s features, but he’d expected that response and sighed. “I’m sorry.” Bucky apologised. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.” He locked eyes with you, only for a moment before you squeezed your eyes shut and averted your gaze elsewhere.

“Can I say goodbye?” Bucky asked, looking up at Steve with tears in his eyes, his best friend taking a deep breath and nodding. While he was annoyed at Bucky and didn’t agree, he did understand. Stepping forwards, Steve opened his arms and the two friends hugged each other tightly. “Will I ever see you again?” Steve asked quietly. Bucky let out a shaky breath, a tear running down his cheek, but he managed to hold it together. “I’m not sure.” He shook his head and the sob he got in response from you hit him hard in the chest.

“Doll, can I say goodbye?” Bucky asked, stepping towards you, though you struggled to make eye contact, your lower lip trembling as your emotions spilled and your tears wet your cheeks so much that no matter how many times you wiped them away, your skin would be damp with them for a while. “I’m sorry doll.” Bucky brought you into his arms, you lamely fought him, half-heartedly hitting your fist against his chest a few times before you sobbed out and admitted defeat, accepting his embrace and holding him around the middle. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbled into your hair as he held you tightly.

There were so many things you wanted to tell him, that you wanted him to hear, but he didn’t want to hear them. He didn’t love you the way you loved him and the dam broke again, violent sobs wracking your body as you clung to your best friend. The person who you’d always spent every moment of the day with. Your whole routine was around Bucky. Breakfast and coffee together, lunch together, mid afternoon break together, dinner together. You spent your weekends with him, all of your evenings were filled with Bucky. But that was all going now. You were leaving that behind in a simulation of all things.

You considered coming back to see him, but the idea made your heart hurt even more. He’d move on here; find the life he’d wanted here with the family and the people he’d left behind and you’d go back to your life with a huge missing chunk. You had Steve. But he wasn’t Bucky.

Your tears sent Bucky over the edge and he struggled to hold back the sobs himself. When he finally parted from you, you both looked at each other through tear blurred eyes and he leant down, his hands resting on your hips. “Goodbye, doll.” Bucky whispered, gently pressing his lips to yours and pulling away almost as quickly as he’d approached. You weren’t sure if the kiss had made it better or worse. “It won’t be the same without you.” You sobbed out, barely able to string a sentence together. “I’ll miss you.” You choked out, voice breaking and wobbling. “I’ll miss you too.” Bucky sniffled, Steve gently taking your hand and pulling you away from Bucky.

You fought yourself to not look back as you walked away, Steve’s arm around you provided only a shred of comfort to the painful ache in your chest. “Let’s go home, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.” Steve reassured you, pulling you along with him, back to the street you’d found the rift and helping you get home.

Steve did all the talking when you got home. You were so broken by the whole experience that when you got back, Steve had taken you up to your room and you stayed there, in a heap on the bed in despair.

You barely slept the first night and you lost your appetite, Steve visiting multiple times a day to try and get you to eat and drink some water, mostly succeeding after some encouragement. Nearly every visit ended in tears. Steve understood Bucky’s reasoning, but his actions had hurt you so much that you could barely function. He’d taken the one thing away that anchored you in this harsh world.

You had considered going to stay with him in the simulation, but you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t leave what you had for the life Bucky wanted. You didn’t even know if he wanted you. You were convinced the kiss he’d given you was out of pity, a goodbye kiss in the hopes of easing your pain, but it just hurt you even more to know what his lips felt like against yours and know that you could never feel them again. That your first and only kiss with Bucky was over a goodbye.

Four days had passed since then and you were in your bedroom. You were so cried out that you couldn’t cry anymore, resulting in dry crying, making your chest and throat hurt as you gulped in air. Pulling yourself together, you decided to go for a shower and clean yourself up. You’d cried for four days straight and it was bound to continue, but you needed to start functioning again and you were ready to start taking steps towards that.

You turned the water on and stripped down, getting into the spacious shower and letting the hot water wash over you, letting it take all the tension out of your muscles and wash it down the drain. Perhaps it would take some of the pain with it too, or at least you hoped it would.

When you were done, you dried yourself off and slipped on a baggy black t-shirt, your heart leaping to your throat when you realised that you had absentmindedly picked one of Bucky’s old shirts he’d donated to you. You put it on anyway, holding back your emotions as you slipped on your underwear and opened the bathroom door, only to walk straight into a wall of muscle, a soft oof slipping out from between your lips.

“Hi doll.” Bucky’s voice graced your ears and you looked up at him, shock washing across your face as he smiled softly down at you. You thought perhaps you were dreaming, it was not dissimilar to the dreams you’d had over the last few nights of Bucky returning to you and you shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to wake yourself up. “Doll?” Bucky spoke softly, his hands gently gripping your upper arms, fingers digging into your skin a tiny bit. The familiarity of his touch, the way he always gripped a bit too tightly, but in a nice way almost broke the dam again. You looked up into his sea blue eyes, the irises that reminded you of the rocky coastlines, where the water was that greyish blue.

“Is this real?” You asked, voice quiet and vulnerable sounding, a little scratchy from the lack of use over the past few days. “It’s real doll, I’m real.” Bucky chuckled, nodding, but his features softened when he saw the conflict of emotions flash across your face and you bottom lip quiver ever so slightly. You reached up with your hands, almost hesitant to touch him, but you let your fingers brush over his stubble and onto his cheek, the scratch from his facial hair making your lip wobble even more as you slowly started to register that he really was here and that it was real.

“Can I touch you?” Bucky asked, voice only a whisper, almost as if he was scared of talking too loudly, like it might hurt you to do so. You nodded, not trusting your voice and Bucky slowly reached out, his hands gently resting on the curve of your waist. “I missed you.” He murmured, voice soft and small as you locked eyes with him. “Really?” You asked, voice high and squeaky as you held back tears. “Really, doll.” Bucky nodded. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you like that.” He whispered. “It hurt to be away from you.” He went on, his voice shaking a little.

You wanted to hit him, tell him how much pain you’d been in, how much you’d been hurting, but all the anger was gone and you didn’t have words anymore, you didn’t have the words to tell him what you needed to say. “I’m a fucking idiot.” Bucky admitted, eliciting a snort from you. “I never should have done that to you, darlin’.” He reached up and brushed some of your hair back and tucked it behind your ear. “You’re so goddamn good and I hurt you.” Bucky fought the tears as his voice trembled. “Didn’t know how good I had it until I didn’t have it anymore.” His composure broke and he let out a little sob, tears escaping his eyes and rolling down his cheeks.

Your walls crumbled and you collapsed into sobs, your chest and throat hurting and aching from all the tears you’d cried out over the last few days. Your knees buckled and Bucky supported you, bringing you close to his chest and holding you tightly against him. “You’ll just leave again.” You sobbed out, your words breaking his heart, but he understood why you said it.

He’d broken your trust and he’d have to earn it back. But he would. Bucky would work so hard to earn back your love and trust if you let him, but he understood if you pushed him away. “I won’t, I promise I won’t.” He shook his head, holding you tighter. “Promise isn’t good enough.” Your voice was muffled in his chest and Bucky sighed, his hand stroking through your hair as he gathered his thoughts. “Tony and I broke the machine. The simulation is gone.” Bucky explained and you paused, breaking away just enough to look up at him.

“It’s gone?” You asked, almost in disbelief, your heart swelling with the thought that he’d left the simulation and willingly helped to destroy it. That must have hurt him too. “I’m so sorry.” You sobbed out and Bucky just wanted to hold you forever. He had hurt you and you were feeling sorry for him. You were worrying about him. You were far too good and he knew it, but you loved him like no one else ever had and he’d be damned if he threw that away.

“I’m here doll.” Bucky pulled you into his embrace again and you wrapped your arms around his middle. “I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed the top of your head gently. “I’ll stay, if you’ll let me.” Bucky whispered against the shell of your ear. “I always want you to stay.” You sniffled.

“Please don’t leave me. Please don’t let go.” You begged, clutching to him, his shirt bunched up in your fists, your nails digging into his skin slightly, but he didn’t care. “I won’t, I won’t let go.” Bucky held you tightly, as if he was afraid either you or him might disappear. “I promise, doll.”

“I love you.” He whispered so quietly you might not have heard it, but you were thankful you had. “I love you too, Bucky.” You cried out. Bucky leaned down and held your face in his hands, pressing his lips against yours, so softly at first that it was like a ghost of a touch, as if he wasn’t really there. But then he deepened it, and his touch was intoxicating. It was painful and loving all at the same time, but you wanted him so badly, no matter how much it had hurt before. He was here. You moved your lips against him, the kiss going from tender and light to needy and desperate and your hands clutched even tighter at his shirt as you slowly brushed your tongue against his.

A soft whimper left your lips and Bucky swear he felt his heart shatter at how small you sounded. He wanted nothing more than to hold on and never let go. He wanted to love and protect you, the way you deserved to be and he poured as much of his thoughts and emotions into his kiss as possible, in the hopes that you’d feel the sincerity in his kiss.

You eventually parted, your glossy eyes looking up and meeting his soft gaze, his hands holding onto you so tightly, but it felt so good. Bucky pressed his forehead to yours and he let out a shaky breath as tears rolled down his cheeks. “Will you be my girl?” Bucky spoke just above a whisper, voice a little nasally from crying and you smiled, moving away just enough to look up into his blue eyes. You gave a little nod. “I’ll be your girl.” You grinned, voice still a little uneven. “Only if you promise me something.” You dropped your voice into a whisper.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Please don’t leave like that again.” You tried to control your lip wobble.

“I promise I won’t ever leave you like that again, doll. I’ll do anything.” Bucky promised, leaning down to seal his words with a kiss. “I promise.” He whispered against you lips before pressing them gently against yours.

And Bucky kept his promise.

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