#perks of having two assignments due tomorrow too lol what the hey is this

[thebirdandhersong]

THIS girl is presenting her paper at the conference tomorrow and she isn't ready :')

[helloalycia]

my patient’s neighbour [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: whilst caring for a new patient of yours, you definitely didn't expect to fall for her cute neighbour, Wanda Maximoff

warning/s: very minor mentions of injuries and death

author's note: okay so firstly, buckle in, folks, this is gonna be like 6 parts long lol. Also, I google translated all the Russian bits so i apologise if they are incorrect! okay, you may enjoy now :)

part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | masterlist | wattpad

"38... 38... 38..."

I scanned the doors to the many apartments in the hall, hoping to find the one that belonged to my newest patient – Anna Pivec. As a nurse, I was always given new patients to visit and tend to until they no longer needed it or chose not to have me around. I'd just been assigned a new patient, Anna, and was excited to meet her.

"38!" I said to myself, spotting the door at the end of the hallway. I knocked on before waiting patiently, hoping she wasn't sleeping or anything. It wasn't too early – 10AM – and she knew I was coming, so finger's crossed.

The door opened to reveal a short, old lady with grey hair and a cane in her hand. I smiled kindly, meeting her cloudy gaze.

"You must be the one my granddaughter is paying to look after me because she can't do it herself," the woman spoke before I could introduce myself. Stepping to the side, she motioned with her cane. "Come on in."

My smile dropped at her abruptness. "I, er, yeah, I guess that's me." As I walked in, I said, "My name is Y/N Y/L/N. The nurse from–"

"Yeah, I know where you're from," she cut me off, closing the door and heading further into her apartment. "They sent me a brochure, milaya."

I followed after her, surprised at how quick she was for an old lady with back and heart problems. She was leading me into the open plan living-room and kitchen.

"I'm sorry – milaya? What does that mean?" I asked politely, hoping I didn't come across as rude.

She waved her hand dismissively, mumbling something to herself in what I think was Russian. Her profile did say she was from Sokovia, so maybe that was it.

"Okay, erm, well, as I said," I changed the subject, figuring she wouldn't give me an answer, "I'm Y/N. I'll be here five times a week and basically be doing anything you need me to do. Of course, I only want you to be comfortable in your own home, so if you ever feel anything but, please let me know."

She hummed in acknowledgement before motioning for me to follow her. I set my bag on the kitchen counter before sitting on the couch as she did so on the recliner. She sighed with content as the pain on her back was eased from taking a seat.

"Tell me about yourself," she said gently.

I smiled with amusement. "That's usually what I ask my patients."

"Do forgive me, milaya," she said, and I made a mental note to bring a Russian-English dictionary with me tomorrow, "but you're a stranger in my home. I'd prefer to know about you before I let you take care of me."

I nodded, slightly impressed. Her profile didn't do her justice. Usually, the elderly I cared for were quick to allow me to do my thing, never really questioning who I was or what my intentions were. I was starting to get the impression that Anna was a strong, stubborn woman in a little old lady's body – definitely not one to mess around with.

"Okay, well, I'm a nurse," I began with the basics, and from there, went into a long ramble about my job, how I got into it, what it consisted of...

Anna was full of questions, taking the time to get to know me and I her. Once I had told her everything I could think to, she told me about her life. How she lived in Sokovia up until she was thirty-five years old and had to flee with her husband and daughter because of the war. She gushed about the both of them, a twinkle in her eye as she recalled their livelihoods like they were still alive. Her husband had unfortunately passed many years ago due to liver problems – "All that drinking, milaya! Us Sokovians are a force to be reckoned with!" – and her daughter had passed in a car accident not long after.

It was a tragic tale, but she didn't let it bring her down. In fact, she seemed grateful to have lived it and I couldn't help but smile as she shared it with me.

I noticed she would speak short phrases in Russian mid-conversation, without realising, which didn't make it easier for me to understand, but I couldn't bring it in myself to interrupt her to ask what they meant because she said it with such sincerity that I figured it reminded her of her home.

After our conversation, I made her lunch and gave her her medication before watching some TV with her and pretty much talking to her once again. She was quite an interesting woman, different to my usual patients, and I was enjoying our time together. After spending the day there, I wished her a good night before leaving.

When I returned the next morning, I let myself in with the key Anna gave me and called out a good morning.

"In here!" an unfamiliar female voice called out.

I furrowed my brows as I took off my jacket and headed into the living-area. Anna was sat in her recliner as usual, but she had a guest sat on her couch. A young woman, possibly my age, with long dark hair and a friendly smile on her lips was sat comfortably; she had a cup of tea in her hands and her legs pulled up on the couch like she lived there.

The stranger and Anna exchanged words in Russian briefly before the former stood up, about to introduce herself.

"Oh, are you her granddaughter?" I asked, putting two and two together. It was the only explanation I could think of for how comfortable she was and the fact that she was also Sokovian (I assumed, anyway).

The girl laughed, her green eyes sparkling as she shook her head. Putting out her hand, she said, "I'm Wanda Maximoff. Anna's neighbour."

Slightly embarrassed by my mistake, I smiled awkwardly and shook her hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have– I just thought because you were speaking Russian that–"

"It's fine, no harm no foul," she put me at ease quickly, before taking her seat again. "I've lived next door to Anna for about a year now. Sometimes I keep her company on my days off."

I set my bag on the floor before taking a seat on the couch, leaving a gap between Wanda and I.

"That's nice," I said with a smile before looking to Anna. "How are you feeling this morning, Mrs Pivec?"

She sighed, waving her hand dismissively, before saying something to Wanda in Russian who was listening intently. Nodding her head, Wanda looked to me with amusement.

"What did she say?" I asked, quirking a brow.

"She said she told you to stop calling her Mrs Pivec yesterday," Wanda translated, trying not to laugh.

"Just call me Anna, Y/N," Anna added with a nod. "And I'm fine. Just had breakfast with Wanda here."

"Breakfast," I repeated slowly. "How long ago was that? Just gotta make sure you get your meds."

"Shoot, am I doing your job?" Wanda asked, slightly panicked.

"No, no, you're not." I laughed at the way she scrunched her nose. "I mean, it would help if I could have breakfast with Miss– Anna, so I know when she has her medication. But it's all good."

"Are you sure? I can leave if I'm in the way," Wanda said with a frown.

"No need," I reassured her. "If Anna doesn't mind your presence, it's all good. I'm just here to look after her, clean up, make sure she eats, has her meds."

Wanda looked to Anna, who seemed unbothered by her presence.

"She can stay," Anna said with a shrug. "Makes it feel less like I'm a pet."

I opened my mouth to say something, possibly make her feel better, but I wasn't sure what to say.

"Don't mind her," Wanda reassured, giving Anna a knowing look before shooting me an easygoing smile. "She tends to speak her mind exactly as it is. No filter whatsoever. And very stubborn. You may have noticed."

I cracked a smile, feeling better knowing that it wasn't just me who noticed Anna's unique personality traits.

"Hey, that stubbornness and lack of filter is exactly how I beat my husband and his friends in every poker game back home," Anna said with a playful smirk.

Wanda and I chuckled, before the brunette leaned on the couch comfortably and looked to me.

"We finished breakfast, maybe, ten minutes ago? I made us eggs and toast," she answered my question from earlier.

I hummed before getting up with my bag and heading to the kitchen. Setting my bag on the counter, I grabbed my diary and also Anna's medication from its place on the kitchen counter.

"I'll give you your medicine now, Anna," I told her, already grabbing a glass of water for her.

"Thank you, milaya," she called back, and I spun around, immediately going to get my Russian-English dictionary from my bag. "Wait, I know what that is!" I flicked through the pages and scanned it eagerly. "Milaya... milaya... milaya! Okay, it means... sweetie."

"Sweetie," Wanda said at the same time, and I looked up to see her watching me from behind her cup of tea, trying not to laugh again.

"I guess another perk of your presence is being the translator," I said sheepishly, realising just how eager I was a second ago. "Anna likes to speak Russian a lot, which I'm fine with of course, but..." I waved the dictionary in the air.

"It's funny watching tvoye lichiko, milaya," Anna said with that same mischievous smirk on her face.

I looked down to my dictionary, struggling to pinpoint a single word in her sentence that I could search. It was overwhelming, the words going in one ear and out the other.

"She said it's funny watching your little face, sweetie," Wanda translated upon seeing my frozen state.

I relaxed my shoulders. "Thanks." Then I realised what she said. "Hey!"

Anna laughed as Wanda grinned, and I was suddenly glad she was here. I grabbed Anna's meds with a glass of water before giving them to her. After making sure she swallowed them properly, I put the glass to the side and took a seat on the couch again.

"So, you said you visited Anna on your days off?" I asked Wanda, intrigued by why a neighbour would be so interested in another. It wasn't very common in today's day and age.

"She's almost always here," Anna answered before Wanda could speak. I looked to her as she continued with a grateful smile. "Helps me with everything. Groceries, cleaning, my medication."

"So basically me but unpaid," I joked, and Anna laughed.

"Exactly," she agreed, and I looked to Wanda to see her blushing, eyes avoiding mine.

"That's really sweet," I said gently, earning her attention. "You're a really good neighbour, Wanda."

Wanda ran a hand through her hair. "It's nothing. If anything, I enjoy being here. Anna reminds me of Sokovia and my family and, well, home."

"Oh, so you're Sokovian, too?"

She nodded before smiling playfully. "Did the accent not give it away?"

I hid a smile. "I didn't want to assume. I mean, you could've been Czech. Slovakian. Basically anything else."

"Okay, I'll give you that," she gave in, tilting her head to the side, smile widening.

It was then that I learnt her smile was extremely contagious.

Same as yesterday, my plan was to stay the day with Anna, though this time Wanda also kept her company (and me, too). After lunch, I left the two of them to watch some TV as I excused myself to change Anna's bedsheets in her room, ready for bed tonight.

As I was doing so, I heard the door open and glanced over my shoulder to see Wanda entering the room. I gave her a smile before continuing to replace the pillowcase.

"Here, I can help," she offered, and didn't give me chance to decline as she grabbed the pillow on the other side of the bed and began to change its case.

"You sure? You know it's my job, right?" I teased, looking up at her over the bed between us.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm aware. Just thought I'd make it a bit easier for you."

I chuckled. "Well, I appreciate it... how is Anna?"

"Dozed off," Wanda quipped with an expectant nod. "Same time every day. Like clockwork."

"Huh." I thought back to yesterday and how she ended up taking a nap after lunch, too. "Noted. Thanks."

Wanda smiled before putting the pillowcase on the pillow and puffing it with her hands. I did the same, content with its appearance, before moving to the duvet. Wordlessly, Wanda grabbed one end and began to help me put it on, which I appreciated. The duvet was bigger than I was and definitely a two-person job.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" I spoke out of the blue as we were putting on the duvet cover.

"Go for it," she said encouragingly, glancing sideways.

"Of course, you don't have to answer, but I thought I'd ask since I'm going to be looking after Anna for a while," I gave a little disclaimer, before saying, "She makes a lot of snide remarks about her granddaughter. Do they not get along?"

Wanda sighed quietly. "Her granddaughter doesn't really visit her here. She rarely calls."

"Her daughter's kid?"

"The only one," Wanda confirmed. "She keeps her distance, ever since her mum – Anna's daughter – passed. She just pays for, well, you."

I frowned. "That's sad."

"Yeah," Wanda agreed, breathing out.

The two of us spread the duvet over the double bed before I looked to her with a small smile.

"At least she has you," I pointed out. "It's nice you give up your free time to spend it with her."

"Like I said, it's good for me, too," she reminded me, returning the smile.

"So what do you do when you're not here keeping her company?" I asked curiously, moving to Anna's bedside to clear it up a little.

Wanda hid her smile behind a look of confusion. "Do you not– don't you recognise me?"

I quirked a brow, pausing my actions. "Am I supposed to?"

She snickered, shaking her head, eyes falling to the bed with mild disbelief. "I mean, I guess not. I'm–" She chuckled, looking to my confused face. "I'm one of the Avengers."

I studied her, her words not quite settling in. But when they did, I realised I actually recognised her and she was one of the Avengers.

"Oh my God!" I blurted, the penny finally dropping. "The one with the weird red energy powers! I mean– not weird but– the magic!"

She stifled laughter, nodding her head. Just like her smile, her laughter was contagious, too.

"Yeah, that's me," she confirmed.

I made a weird motion with my free hand, like I'd seen her do on TV when saving the day. "Does Anna know about your y'know?"

Wanda crossed her arms, raising a brow and watching me with a humoured gaze. "Is that supposed to be my powers?"

I stopped making the motion and felt my neck heating up. "I– yeah."

Laughter spilled from her lips yet again, automatically making me smile. I didn't mind that I'd made a fool of myself all of a sudden.

"Anna knows, yes," Wanda said with a bright smile. "She actually recognised me straight away. Much quicker than you. And she's eighty."

Waving my hand to distract from my flushed cheeks, I said, "Pfft, she probably confused you with someone else and played along when you told her who you were."

"Yeah, I'm sure that was it, ty milyy maneken," she retorted with her piercing gaze.

"No fair, my dictionary is in the other room," I said with a pout, and she only laughed even more.

"Guess you'll never know," she teased with a smirk, making me roll my eyes to distract from the way it made me feel when she stared at me like that.

It was much later on when I learnt that she had called me 'a cute dummy'. And that was the beautiful start to Wanda and I's introduction into each other's lives.

—

From then onwards, about eighty percent of the time I would go to care for Anna, Wanda was present, too and I didn't mind one bit. Not only did she keep Anna company, but she made my job a lot easier whilst keeping me company as well.

I was beginning to look forward to seeing her whenever I would open the door. Whether she was cleaning something up, playing board games with Anna or simply having a tidy up around the apartment, she'd always stop what she was doing and help me with whatever was in my hands as she greeted me at the door. It was adorable. She was adorable.

The few times she wasn't present because of work only made me miss her, the apartment feeling emptier than usual. Even Anna agreed, the two of us making up for the lack of the Sokovian girl's presence by distracting ourselves with other activities.

I was convinced Anna was warming up to me as she freely let me care for her without resistance. Obviously, she wouldn't be Anna if she didn't throw funny remarks my way or speak to me in Russian, knowing I didn't understand her, but it was tolerable. And I was liking her, too; she was easily becoming one of the best patients I cared for. There was just so much personality to her that I couldn't help but smile whenever I spoke to her.

One time, I was helping Anna out at her place when Wanda wasn't present. I was leading her into her bed when I decided now was a better time than ever to ask her about her birthday on Sunday, which I knew was then because of her file.

"So, I'll be seeing you in two days next," I told her as I pulled the duvet over her. "And a little birdie told me it's your birthday then. Eighty-one, Anna! That's amazing!"

She smiled but seemed embarrassed that I knew.

"Tell me what you want and I can make it happen," I said promisingly, smiling down at her.

She waved her hand. "I don't want anything, milaya (sweetie). Your presence is enough."

I chuckled. "As sweet as that is, I know everybody wants something for their birthday. Now please, Anna. What can I do to make the day a bit more special?"

She pondered my question momentarily and I waited for her to speak, hoping it was something doable.

"I would love to have a traditional Sokovian meal," she said reluctantly. "It's been a long time."

I breathed out quietly, patting her hand gently. "I can do that, Anna. Don't you worry."

She smiled genuinely, before shooing me away. "Okay, enough sappiness, ty mozhesh' uyti seychas (you can leave now)."

I laughed, standing up and dusting my pants off. I only knew what that phrase meant because she said it almost every time before my shift ended and I left for the day. I knew she didn't mean it as harshly as it sounded.

"I'm going, I'm going," I said, already heading to the door. "I'll see you Sunday, birthday girl."

She groaned quietly, making me grin, before I double checked everything was okay in the living-area and grabbed my stuff to leave.

As easy of a request that it was, I knew absolutely nothing about cooking a traditional Sokovian meal. But I knew of one person who did and instantly headed to Wanda's apartment next door to see if she was home.

With a quick knock, I waited patiently. I wasn't sure if she was even home since she hadn't visited Anna today and she usually did so if she was. When I was beginning to think she wasn't, I told myself I could Google a recipe and put something together, but then the door opened and revealed a tired-looking Wanda.

"Y/N," she said with surprise, but a friendly smile was on her lips nonetheless.

"Hey, I'm so sorry to disturb you this late, but I wanted to ask– wait, what happened to your face?" I stopped speaking and lost my own smile when I noticed the faint scratches and bruises dusting her skin.

"Oh, it's nothing–" she started, raising her hand, fingers wavering over her head, but I cut her off.

"Shit, Wanda, what happened?" I reached out, taking her hand in mine and studying the cast that was around her wrist. Concerned frown on my lips, I glanced up at her. "Are you okay?"

"It's fine, Y/N," she tried to reassure, but I couldn't help it as my worry got the better of me and I studied the cuts on her cheek. "I just came back from a mission. Minor injuries. Honestly."

I let go of her hand, realising I was still holding it, and nodded slightly. "Right..." Realising she must have been exhausted, I awkwardly stepped back and shook my head with realisation. "Sorry, I should go. I didn't mean to bot–"

"You were saying something," she interrupted, nodding encouragingly. "You wanted to ask me something. What is it?"

I paused, nodding. Admittedly, I was still worried about the bruises on her forehead. I knew she was an Avenger and this was probably the norm for her, but to me, it looked like she'd just got mugged. And the irregularity of that worried me.

"Yeah, I was saying," I finally found my words, trying to ignore the way her tired eyes peered at me hopefully. "It's Anna's birthday on Sunday and she wants to have a traditional Sokovian meal to celebrate. The only problem is, I don't know what that is." Wanda cracked a smile as I continued. "Do you, maybe, have a recipe I could use?"

"Of course," she said before motioning for me to follow her. "Come on in."

I followed after her, closing the door behind me, and stopped at the kitchen counter patiently. As she searched for a notebook in her drawer, I subtly glanced around, taking in the inside of Wanda's apartment. I'd never actually been in it before, but the minimal décor was very her. She didn't have many knickknacks and everything on display served a purpose.

"There's some recipes in here," she said, grabbing my attention. She slid the notebook across the counter and leaned forward with a smile. "Take your pick."

I flicked through it briefly, smiling at the notebook filled with recipes, all in Wanda's neat, cursive handwriting.

"Thank you," I said gratefully, looking up and catching her staring.

She perked up, clearing her throat as she nodded in response before looking the other way. Cute.

"Are you working on Sunday?" I asked with a raised brow, before rolling my eyes playfully. "What am I saying? Of course you're not. Not with that wrist."

She chuckled, still avoiding my eyes. "I'm not."

"Well, why don't you come over for her birthday? You can help me cook her a meal. Or rather, I can help you cook it since I'll probably screw it up."

Finally meeting my eyes, she smiled with amusement. "Are you sure?"

I gave her a knowing look, ignoring the butterflies swirling in my stomach as she held my gaze with her intense dark eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. Anna will love to celebrate with you. And..." I pursed my lips, taking a leap of faith and adding, "and I'd love it, too."

Wanda let out a quiet laugh. "You would, would you?"

I straightened up, smile widening. "Yeah, I would."

She tilted her head, studying me with a curious smile. "Well then, I clearly can't say no."

Something stirred in my chest the longer she watched me and I oddly liked it. It was obvious that Wanda was a beautiful girl with a heart of gold, but I guess I hadn't really acknowledged that I may have had feelings for her until now. And I didn't mind one bit.

"Great," I finally found my words, nodding slightly. "I'll see you Sunday."

She mirrored my expression, saying, "See you Sunday," and I knew I couldn't wait until then.

[cherry-gemz]

Open Book: Part I

Summary: As the Assistant Librarian for a small town in Florida, you find yourself intrigued with an extraordinary little girl and her charming uncle. As each day goes by, you teach the girl about adventure and mystery with your love of books. Little do you know what's in store for you next.

Pairings: Y/N and Frank Adler

Rating: PG, all fluff

Word count: IDK, failed at the assignment 2k+ lol. So I split the fic.

Challenge Prompt: Write a story about someone trying to find the perfect birthday gift.

A/N: Happiest of birthdays dear @a-little-counter-esperanto. You are the bees knees and really a true gem! I'm so happy we've become friends - we have so many things in common it's cray. I'm wishing you all the love and happiness, sunshine! May you continue to have a fantastic birthday sleepover and enjoy being loved by all! Hope you enjoy the fic xx - Cherry

"Did you get the flowers?" Mary asked as she sat on the couch flipping through the tv.

Frank patted his chest and then his jeans in search of his keys.

"What?"

Mary kept changing the channels without a beat,"Frank. You're supposed to buy a girl flowers on the date."

Frank furrowed his brow, "Uh...no. Have you seen my keys? Really?"

Mary rolled her eyes, "She's not gonna kiss you goodnight."

He searched on the kitchen table and rummaged through old mail when a knock at the door interrupted his concentration. As he bee-lined to the door, Mary turned off the tv and hopped off the couch to grab her latest book she'd chiseled her way through for the week.

Frank swung the door open abruptly and started you as you stood at their doorstep.

"Hey! You made it, great!" Frank exclaimed. "Sorry, my head's a mess."

Mary now situated herself at the kitchen table and shouted over her shoulder, "It's because he hasn't been on a real date in over six months."

Frank turned red," What? No...I mean yes, but jeez, Mary. Remember we talked about how to read a room?"

He turned back to you, "Come in, come in. I'm just trying to find my keys."

You chuckled and nodded to the doorknob which held his set of keys and he smacked his forehead.

As you walked into the house, you noticed little knickknacks here and there on shelves. And books. Mountains of books everywhere. Piling on top of each other.

"Hi Mary," you smiled as she kept her back to you, nose deep in her book.

"Mary…" Frank scolded as he put his hands on his hips.

"Hi, Ms. Y/N."

You smiled as you approached her, "May I sit?"

She nodded in agreement and you pulled out a chair.

"I brought you something…" you say as you rummage through your canvas bag for your book on crabs. "Well, actually I was hoping you could help me...see…"

Frank smiled as he saw the two of you bonding. He caught himself admiring you more than he'd like to admit as he needed to head off to his date soon. He appreciated your assistance with babysitting Mary as the two of you first met at the local library. His date, Justine, was a waitress at the bar he would visit from time to time. While there was a chemistry between them, it was really just through vanity. With you, he had come to know you at a deeper level: the way you’d squint or furrow your brow when reviewing your clipboard. Or how adorable you’d look chewing on the cap of your pen when trying to finalize an email at your desk. He saw that you loved the color yellow, considering how many skirts and cardigans you’d paired together. And that you were a romantic at heart - the classics were your fave to read and how’d you get lost in historical facts when he had first asked you what your hobbies were. Seeing how a beautiful person you were, inside and out, he now regretted asking Justine out with you on his mind.

Mary's eyes scanned the books of quantum physics and mathematics. At first you thought perhaps she had another book instead, but as you watched her day in and day out, you were astounded at the tiny prodigy and her ability to ascertain such knowledge at her age. You'd correct the cataloging errors for the day and find her reading for enjoyment it seemed.

Then one day Frank arrived. Mary had always left on her own, but as if it were any old regular day, the handsome uncle came to retrieve his stellar niece. He had a warmness to him. His dark brown hair and beard complemented his face, one that was obvious in an overall attractiveness. And he was kind, he showed that by adopting his niece after her mother had passed away and truly nurturing her gifted talent. You learned he fixed boats for a living and lived not too far from the library. You smiled at the odd pair together, they somehow seemed to work however.

As you checked their books out, Mary tiptoed over the large walnut desk and glanced at you.

"You're pretty," she stated.

"Mary. What did we say?" Frank tsked, embarrassed, but didn't disagree with her observation.

"What? Frank, you told me that I need to state facts, rather than assumptions. And I am stating a fact that Ms. Y/LN is pretty. Do you think she's pretty, Frank?"

Frank coughed into his fist and blushed, you smirked, half wanting to know his answer, half laughing inside of how Mary was so blunt.

"Yes, Ms. Y/LN is very pretty," he replied and gazed at your eyes. He licked his lips and you had to turn away feeling flushed. You closed the last book and placed it in Mary's backpack.

"All set," you replied. "These are due on the 23rd."

Frank zipped up the backpack and slung it over his broad shoulder. "Thanks, we'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh?" You replied as Mary looked at you both attempting to assess the flirtation occuring before her eyes.

"Well, yeah, she loves it here, I mean. And we have a few other books to return."

"Yes, we'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Mary."

"Bye," Mary replied and skipped off.

Frank showed up every day after that. You found it endearing, but not wanting to read into something that wasn't there, you focused your attention on Mary. That only seemed to peak his interest further. While he had a knack for attracting women, his heart was never in it for the long haul since the minute they found out about Mary, they'd either run away from the possible responsibility, or Mary would run them off herself. But with you it was different. You were genuine and kind to Mary. Knowing quite well of her mathematical abilities, you would challenge her in other areas: art, zoology, history. You found that while she could read more college level books than any person you met in the small town, she still was a child wanting to learn about all other aspects of life. You'd sit together at a table: you, reviewing inventory spreadsheets for the latest book fair and her, immersed in some book that would put you to sleep at night.

"Frank, you should ask Ms. Y/LN out," Mary stated one day as the three of you sat at a table together. Frank practically choked and you shook your head, secretly wanting to say yes.

"Aw, Mary. Well, I bet Ms. Y/LN has guys lined up at her door every night."

"No, she doesn't," Mary replied as she turned a page of her book. Frank laughed and placed his hand on Mary's shoulder, pretending to shake her.

"Well, actually Ms. Y/LN…" he said as your heart skipped a beat.

"Y/N," you interrupted. "You can call me Y/N. I feel we're on a first name basis now considering you're here everyday."

“Y/N,” he smiled. His hair was more combed today. You had noticed that he seemed to be disheveled when you first met him, however either Mary’s tactics were rubbing off on him, or it was your pure imagination.

“Yes?” you piped. You haven't been regularly dating lately. There just weren’t many prospects these days. Not ones that could keep up with conversation, let alone intellect. So instead, you found yourself immersed with your favorite fictional characters in the sea of books you’d grown to know and love.

His brow furrowed, he seemed nervous and he picked at the edge of a book as he attempted to gather his thoughts.

“Do you have a favorite book?” Mary interrupted as Frank turned to her, but seemingly glad she saved him from embarrassment.

“Do I have a favorite book? Hmmm...” you thought and a childish smile appeared on your face. “I have many favorite books, Mary...The Velveteen Rabbit, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe…”

“Yeah, but what’s like your most favorite book?”

You extended your hand out to her and she willingly accepted. Frank perked up his interest as he watched the two of you scamper off into the fiction area. Curious, he stood up and decided to follow. The two of you giggled quietly as you made your way around the columns, your free hand lightly ghosting over the spines of the books. The subtle scent of paper and dust permeated Frank’s sense of smell. He was more of an outdoorsy person nowadays as he had left behind his scholarly days teaching in Boston. It’s where Mary learned most from, his appetite to keep learning, vernacular, and wit . You slowed down and perused a row until you found your favorite book.

“Aha!” you exclaim and hid the book behind your back as Mary jumped up and down with excitement. “Now, I’m not sure if this is something you’d be interested in, it’s more for ten year olds in my opinion. However, I know you’re a very mature young lady and I find that you’d quite enjoy the story if you give it a chance.”

Frank smiled, perplexed as to what book could possibly be your favorite. You pulled the book from behind and showed Mary.

“Little Women,” she stated. “By Louisa May Alcott.”

“Yes. It’s a beautiful story, really. About sisters and the trials they endure during the American Civil War. There’s friendship, love, and growth.”

Mary bunched her nose, you could tell she was on the fence about whether she’d enjoy a story about fictional sisters and yucky love stuff. You started to pull it away, however she grabbed it from your hands. You laughed and looked at Frank who leaned onto the columns and folded his arms.

“Seems someone is wanting to expand their horizons,” he chuckled.

“So it seems,” you smiled back as Mary skipped off to return to the table leaving the two of you behind.

“I’m more of a Lord of the Rings man myself.”

“Really?” you responded playfully. “The Hobbit included, right?”

“Of course,” he scoffed. “I think I actually just read that one to be honest, I just wanted to impress you. I spent my time reading Calvin and Hobbes more, probably how Mary learned my sarcasm.”

You laugh and touch his forearm as a reflex, but quickly realize and pull away. The spark that you felt when you connected was undeniable. You felt butterflies with him standing next to you and you hoped he hadn’t noticed your inability to remain calm.

“Y/N…” he started to say nervously. “Would it be alright if I called ya? Maybe we can get together sometime?”

“Oh, umm,” you replied, caught off guard. While you definitely had caught feelings for the handsome man, you never would have thought it’d be reciprocated. You stuttered, trying to gather your response.

Your hesitation threw him off, and he quickly replied, “I mean...like to sit for Mary or whatever. She really likes you.”

“Of course...yes,” you reply defeated in hopes that he would have asked you out. Instead of asking why he didn’t, you started to walk back to Mary. Frank scrunched his face in frustration in knowing he missed his shot with you and blurted out the most platonic question instead. He realized as well and quickly shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and followed your lead.

Frank watched as you comfortably plopped yourself next to Mary on the couch, dreading that he had to meet up with Justine. He’d much rather relax on the couch with you and the rugrat, enjoying some silly kids movie together.

You peered over the couch, “Is it okay if she has popcorn?”

“What? Yes,” Mary said flatly and jumped off the couch to the kitchen.

“Okay, miss. But not too much sugar. Bedtime is still at 9,” Frank replied as you shrugged your shoulders.

“It’s the weekend, Frank,” Mary called out from the kitchen.

“Yes, but-“

“Will you be late?” you asked.

He looked at you in surprise, “Um, no. Probably before ten?”

“Okay, have fun.”

“It’s Y/N’s birthday,” Mary replied, carrying two coke bottles and a bag of jelly beans.

You shook your head in regret of ever telling the child when your birthday was. She was so inquisitive that day, asking about all your favorites: food, animals, books, and now birthday.

“It’s your birthday?!” Frank asked.

“Yeah, no big deal.”

“How old are you?” Mary asked as she set the drinks on the coffee table and then remembered how Frank would scold her about leaving water rings. She grabbed the coasters and placed them under the bottles.

“Mary!” Frank detested and placed his hands on his hips.

“How old do you think I am?” You tease, waving off to Frank that it was okay.

“Older than Justine, that’s for sure. She said she was 24, but looks 34. But she acts like she's 12. She hasn't even read anything on quantum physics, she thought wave mechanics was something Frank was working on with a boat,” she said coolly and popped a few jelly beans into her mouth. She nestled herself back into the couch cushions and wiggled her feet.

“Mary Elizabeth!” Frank’s voice boomed as he entered the living room.

Mary leaned over to whisper to you, “Frank says I'm not supposed to correct older people. Nobody likes a smart-ass.”

“And a busy body,” he huffed.

You nodded and laughed quietly, entertained at his expense.

“Well I am 32,” you smiled and looked at your watch, “As of one hour ago as a matter of fact.”

“That’s good. You’re much more mature than Justine and a better fit for him. Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“Mary…that’s it. You’re on your last warning,” Frank bellowed. “Don’t make me let Y/N go home and then you’re stuck with me tonight.”

“What? No! Okay. I’m sorry,” she lamented and folded her arms.

Frank’s demeanor changed as he turned to you, “I hadn’t known it was your birthday. Don’t feel pressured to sit for her tonight if you have other plans.” Secretly he wanted to cancel on Justine and spend the night celebrating you instead.

“Oh it’s okay! It kind of appeared out of nowhere. I usually go back home and celebrate with friends and family, but my schedule didn’t permit it this year. Next year, perhaps.”

“What’s your favorite dessert?” Mary asked as she chewed on another handful of jelly beans.

“Red velvet cheesecake,” you smiled. “I have a sweet tooth.”

Frank couldn’t concentrate on his date with Justine. His mind was elsewhere. On you. Justine grazed her hand as they sat next to each other at the bar. He seemed unfazed by her gesture and looked at his watch, 9:14pm. Would it be too obvious if he cut the date short that he was into you? He coughed and took a swig of his beer.

“Do you wanna come back to my place?” She cooed and bit her lip in anticipation.

“What? Oh actually I was gonna head out. The sitter needed me home by 9:30,” he lied.

“Oh, sitter?”

“Yeah, Mary. Remember? My niece?”

“That’s right. How old is she again?”

“Seven,” He said, annoyed. He recalled they had met once before. The bartender approached them and handed Frank the receipt.

“Hey, do you have any desserts on the menu?”

Justine’s ears perked in curiosity of where he was going with asking about dessert.

The bartender grunted slightly and threw a mangled tri-fold menu and Frank grabbed it quickly.

“Buddy, ring me up for the red velvet cupcake.”

[valkyriesryde]

Proud

Pairing: Mentor!Bucky x Teenage!Reader

Summary: Y/N needs to interview someone for a history assignment and who better to go to than Bucky.

Warnings: Swears lol

Request: By Anon - I think I just saw you wanted requests so what about a Bucky one where you’re like a similar age to Peter and you and Buck have a similar child to parent dynamic (like Peter and Tony). You dont have to do it, it’s just inspiration xx

A/N: This was so much fun to write! It’s shorter than I would have liked so sorry about that but I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1,806

Masterlist

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Afternoon Mr Barnes,” the young girl jumped onto the counter behind where Bucky sat on the ground in front of his motorbike. He couldn’t get any peace and quiet in this godforsaken place, also since when are there so many children around, he thought to himself.

“Afternoon Miss Y/L/N” he turned his head to the girl on the counter and gave her a small smile which she immediately returned, “and what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Peter said I could come round and study,” she shrugged her shoulders and picked at the edges of the book on her lap, the smile on her face no gone, “needed to get out of the house.”

Bucky nodded his head and pointed towards the toolbox next to her, “well if you’re here you may as well help me, can you pass me that spanner,” she did as she was told, sitting on a stool after the task was done.

Y/N was always thankful for Bucky, he never asked her questions when she would show up with Peter at the compound, he would just put her to work and teach her new things about whatever he was working on. Bucky was thankful for Y/N, she never pestered him about how he was doing and she always helped him when he was working on his bikes. He was starting to understand why Tony accumulated a number of unofficially adopted children, they were nice to have around.

The two didn’t talk much, neither were big talkers, but it worked for them. Steve had joked that she was a mini version of Bucky which got a series of nods and agreements from the others.It also got a groan from Bucky but then a giant smile broke out on his face, they were right and he was goddamn happy about it.

Y/N was fascinated with machinery and how things worked, anything from a microwave to a car to society she wanted to know how it ticked. She wasn’t so much interested in Tony’s work though, she liked it sure, but it was much too advanced for her, she was much happier working on machines by hand and not creating her own. She liked to break things apart just to see if she could put it back together. That’s how she found herself in the garage of the compound one day after telling Peter she couldn’t go home just yet. He’d invited her to hang out at the compound while he worked with Tony, maybe she could join them he had suggested. It didn’t take long for Y/N to start wandering through the halls until she came across Sam pulling out stones from between the metal components of his wings. She stood and watched for ten minutes before he asked if she was okay.

“How do you get the wings to move like that?” She asked instead, her head leaning forward to get a better look at the mechanics in the wing. “Did you use references from a specific species of bird or several different species?” Sam stared at her with eyes wide not quite knowing how to answer. It’s not like he’d made the thing he just had a deal with Tony that he’d keep it clean. Before he could answer the sound of an engine sputtering to life came from behind him, or an engine attempting to sputter to life, it didn’t quite make it. This immediately got the teenagers attention, She moved around Sam’s workbench to find Bucky scratching his head and muttering an assortment of swears towards the motorbike.

“Whatcha’ doing?” She’d asked eagerly, “and can I help?”

From then on whenever she came to the compound Y/N found her way to Bucky’s side, most of the time it was at his workbench. Sometimes he would be cleaning his guns while she sat and did homework and assignments, every so often asking him a question and getting the same answer “I don’t know, fuck knows why you’re asking me,” other times he would be working on his own project of building his own bike and she would be sat there helping him, she had made an entire notebook of specs for the different parts and what they were doing. On a couple occasions, and after months of begging, Nat had walked in on Bucky teaching Y/N how to throw a knife, she got the hang of that faster than Nat would like to admit. However Bucky couldn’t have been prouder and bragged about it for a solid week to anyone that would listen to him. ‘The kids a natural’ he would tell them.

At this point in time Y/N was sitting on the workbench while Bucky puttered away with his bike,  she wasn’t quite sure how to ask him for help but she needed it.

“Hey Bucky,” he hummed in response, not looking up from his hands, “I have this history assignment due and I was wondering if you could help me? It’s just an interview,” her words were rushed but it caught his attention.

“I’m not good at helping you with school work you know that,” he looked at her pleading that she not ask for his help, he hated that he wasn’t able to help her with such a big part of her life but what did he know about what they learnt in school these days? It’d been a while since he’d sat in a classroom. “Why don’t you ask Bruce?”

“Because it’s about The Great Depression, I thought maybe I could have a first hand account of it,” she gave him a toothy grin, knowing he couldn’t actually say no to her. Bucky sighed as he put his tools down and wiped his hands on a rag.

“What about Steve?” he tried.

“Steve’s not here.” and he failed. Bucky rolled his eyes but stood up nonetheless and sat on the stool next to her.

“Fine then, what do you want to know?” Y/N opened her notebook to a blank page and paused for a second, her pen hovering before turning to Bucky.

“I’m not going to lie, I didn’t think I’d get this far,” she turned back to her notebook and pulled out a paper from the back that had the questions she wanted to ask on it.

“Good, it’s never happening again,” he chuckled.

“That’s a lie, okay first question…”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Y/N sat at the dining table finishing her analysis of the interview she’d done with Bucky while he was in the kitchen making them food. ‘You need food to keep that brain ticking’ he’d said.

There was a decent amount of information to get through to be fair, once she got Bucky talking he would go on tangents about different things and tell her all sorts of stories about what he would get up to to pass the time back in the day. She’d written everything down, recorded it on her phone to go back over at school tomorrow just in case she had missed something. It was rare that Bucky talked about himself, let alone his life before the war, but it was a refreshing change that she hoped she could get more of.

“Eat,” Bucky said dropping a plate of cut up fruits on the table. Y/N muffled a thank you at the same time shoving a slice of apple in her mouth.

“Ohh oranges!” Peter jogged up to the table and reached across her to grab a piece of the fruit before sliding in the seat across from Y/N.

“Hey, you all done?” she asked, looked up at the boy smiling at her with the orange peel in his face and nodding.

“Yup, what are you doing?” he asked taking the peel out of his mouth and going for another piece. Bucky picked up the book in front of him, Y/N’s history textbook and started skimming through the pages.

“My history assignment,” she smiled, Peter thought for a second before he perked up, remembering what she was talking about.

“The one you have to interview a grandparent for?” he asked, feeling proud of himself for remembering what the assignment actually was, until he saw his friend’s panicked face.

“GRANDPARENT?!” Bucky yelled looking at Y/N with an unamused face.

“It’s not like that!” she exclaimed back, “thanks a lot Peter,” she mumbled under her breath and side eyed the boy who was sinking into his seat.

“Oh so you didn’t have to interview a GRANDPARENT for your assignment?” the sarcasm drooled out of his mouth with every word. Is that how she saw him? As some old coot?

“Okay yes that was the outline but I didn’t want to do that! I wanted to interview you! So I picked a time where I could use you and it would still fit the outline,” she looked at the man next to her, her eyes were wide and she had a slight frown. As soon as Y/N had gotten the assignment she wanted to interview Bucky, but she needed a piece of history to ask him about that would fit, so she found one. Was that so bad? That she just wanted interview him and not anyone else?

“You wanted to interview me?” his voice was softer now, he couldn’t help the smile on his face when she nodded. He felt a sense of pride that she had thought of him first, that she wanted him to be apart of her school work. He felt special, thought of, like she’d confirmed the special bond they had. “Suppose that’s alright then,” Bucky laughed at Y/N’s face lighting up, “but I better get a copy once you’re done, gotta make sure you’re not talking shit.” He pointed a finger towards her and passed her the textbook so she could put it back in her bag.

“Promise,” she smiled standing from her seat with Peter following, “thanks Buck,” Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck from behind before running off after Peter towards the elevator, giving him a final wave goodbye.

“Bastard kids get under your skin before you know what’s happening don’t they,” Bucky turned his attention to Tony who had sat himself where Peter had been.

“Yea,” Bucky agreed, picking up the last piece of apple from the plate, “suppose it’s not a bad thing.”

It was definitely not a bad thing and you can bet your ass that as soon as Bucky had that assignment in his hands he was shoving it in everyone’s faces exclaiming that his kid wrote all about him, “that’s right Steve, she picked ME for her history assignment!” and it was pinned to his board in his room from there on out, more permanent than on the fridge, he told her proudly.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thank you for reading and as always, requests are open!!

[choupichoups]

Press F (Instagram/College AU) Ch.3

Lucas swears he’s the absolute master of undetected stalking. Or: Eliott is instagram famous and Lucas is the disaster gay who accidentally likes his post.

“I think it’s about you.”

“… I don’t think so.”

“Lulu, please, the guy’s hardcore indirecting you. There’s a heart and all. Acknowledge the effort.”

“How are you so sure?”

The four of them are huddled around his phone, scrutinizing Eliott’s latest story. Half built furniture lay around in haphazard piles on the floor, two empty pizza boxes shoved in a corner near where a dangerously tilting dining table stands.

“Aren’t you meeting at 13h tomorrow? Would have been exactly 24 hours away at the time he posted that.”

Lucas still thinks the guys are reaching, but he lets it slide. He’s not quite over the whiplash of seeing Eliott’s gorgeous face closely followed by that silly raccoon photo. This man is ridiculous and Lucas can’t wait to tell him that to his face. 

Assuming he’d be able to string proper sentences around Eliott anyway. 

“What’s with the raccoon, though?” Arthur asks, sprawling on the floor as he balances a can of soda on his chest. 

“It’s his spirit animal,” Lucas murmurs, tapping away from the story. Eliott hasn’t posted anything else. “What?” He looks up to three sets of raised eyebrows. “He mentioned it in a live once!”

“Okay, I see, so you’re really the creep in this scenario.”

His eyes roll up to the ceiling, “I am not.”

“But for real though, how do we know this guy isn’t a fuck boy?” The question comes from Basile, giving Lucas pause. He spares Basile the stinkiest side eye he can manage, one foot shooting out to kick at the boy’s leg. “Ow! I’m just looking out for you.”

“This, coming from you?” 

“Hey now, I’ve learned from my mistakes.” Basile fixes the glasses sliding off his face — reading glasses that he likes to wear because he thinks they make him look smart — and slaps Lucas’ offending foot away. “I’m a whole new person from who I was yesterday.”

“Whatever. Besides, Yann’s coming with me tomorrow,” Lucas says, gazing up at his best friend with a pleading smile. “Just to walk with me to the building, right?" 

“I am?” 

Yes, or Lucas would die from nerves before they even make eye contact and Eliott would only find his corpse at the bridge. Nobody needs that sort of tragedy right now. “Please?” He musters up the most pitiful puppy eyes he's capable of.

Yann sighs, “I guess I am.”

“Can I come?” Arthur sits up, almost knocking his drink over in the process.

“No.”

“Why not? I wanna make sure he’s not a creep too!”

“Yann’s got it covered.” 

“This isn’t fair, Lulu.”

“I wanna come too!” That one's from Basile.

Lucas snorts, “Nope.”

He pulls instagram back up because he lacks control over his own actions, as per previously established. But instead of scrolling through the feed, he snaps a photo of the lone box of pizza in arm’s reach of their wonky circle. 

They sit around on the floor arguing on instagram despite being next to each other, last slice of pizza remaining untouched. 

But Lucas promptly abandons the post when he sees a new private message pop up.

srodulv What are you wearing?

“Oh my fucking god,” he says before he can stop himself. The rest of the gang perks up, throwing increasingly ludicrous questions at him all at once. “Wait, shut up, shut up.” He waves his arms at them, playfully shoving Arthur off when the other boy tries for a glimpse at his screen.

“Is it Eliott?” Yann asks, obviously trying to be the level headed one of the four.

“Yeah,” he manages to squeak out, thoroughly distracted. 

srodulv Tomorrow I mean :)

lucallemant Stop that

srodulv What? I didn’t do anything

lucallemant I swear to god Why do you wanna know

srodulv So I can see you from afar and sneak up on you

lucallemant ??

srodulv It’ll be cute

lucallemant lol stop that 

srodulv What if I can’t find you?

lucallemant Then I’ll find you I can sneak up on you instead Cause I know exactly what you’re wearing

srodulv Why?  Cause you’ll be stalking me again?

lucallemant No Cause you wear the same thing everyday

srodulv I do not

lucallemant Yes you do 

srodulv I don’t! It’s just my jacket

lucallemant Okay

srodulv What okay?

lucallemant Okay :)

srodulv Lucas

lucallemant :)

He looks up after noticing the silence around him, finding Yann’s dead stare, Basile’s open mouthed one, and Arthur’s— well, Arthur’s got the last piece of pizza stuffed in his mouth. “What?”

“He was smiling at his phone.” Basile turns to Yann as if Lucas isn’t sitting right there. 

“Yeah,” Yann agrees. “Did you see the way he just ignored us? Not cool.”

“Bro code broken.”

Lucas rolls his eyes so hard he’s momentarily worried it’d get stuck like that forever. 

srodulv So you see me enough to judge my fashion huh

lucallemant How’d you manage to turn this around in your favour

srodulv It’s an acquired skill 

lucallemant Impressive 

srodulv So? 

lucallemant So what?

srodulv I’m not getting an answer am I?

lucallemant Smart man

His phone rings with a different tone just as he hits send, bringing Lucas out of his lovestruck cheesing quite abruptly. The name flashing on the screen has him up on his feet in a nanosecond, leaving the guys crawling around picking on Arthur for consuming their current source of entertainment.

“Where you goin’?” Arthur calls out as Lucas moves away. 

“Gotta take this.” He gestures at his phone then points to the balcony where he’s headed. “Hey, Marie, what’s up?” 

“Afternoon, Lucas. How are you?”

“Good, good. Is everything alright?”

“Yes! Your mother’s actually the one who asked me to call. She just can’t find her phone,” Marie chuckles from the other line. “But she wants to ask if you have any free time at all today? We’re due for a little fresh air ourselves.”

“Okay, what time?”

“We’re thinking of heading out in an hour? We can meet you at the bus stop one block off the clinic.” 

“Yeah, sure. That sounds good.”

“Okay, I’ll bring Champ.”

“Yes!” He jumps a little, running back to where the guys are still spread out on the floor.

Marie laughs, “I see who you’re most excited to meet.”

“Don’t tell mama.” He laughs along, mumbling his goodbyes before hanging up. “Hey, morons, I gotta go.”

“But we haven’t built my bed yet!” Basile sits up, looking genuinely disappointed. 

“Sleep on the floor.” Lucas smiles to soften his words, moving closer to clap their hands together. “Sorry guys, mama wants to hang out.” 

When Lucas gets to Yann, the other boy stands with him. “I’m going with Lucas, see you guys.”

“Oh okay.” Basile turns to Arthur then. “You’re staying right?” To which Arthur agrees only if they buy another box of pizza.

“You don’t have to,” Lucas says softly when they get to the door. 

“Nah, let’s go. I haven’t come with you to visit in a while.” Yann smiles down at him, giving him a gentle pat on the back. God, he loves this guy. 

One o’clock in the morning finds Lucas cramming for an essay he’s completely forgotten is due the next day. Well, today now actually. This is why he has a problem with professors assigning things months in advance— he puts it off so much so that the excessively early due date warning causes more harm than good. 

He’s right about to pull his hair out in frustration after writing and deleting and rewriting the same fucking paragraph for the fifth time when his phone, left open to review the notes Imane had sent him, brightens slightly to alert him with a message from Eliott. 

srodulv Can I ask you something?

Lucas briefly entertains the notion of telling him to go the fuck to sleep but that would be very hypocritical of him. 

lucallemant Yeah

srodulv I mean, you don’t have to answer If you don’t want to

lucallemant Okay What is it?

He turns away from his laptop, sliding off his desk chair and onto the floor. Eliott’s taking a while to answer, which allows Lucas’ bitch of a brain to formulate unpleasant thoughts as to where this conversation’s going. 

Too antsy now to stay on the floor, he drags himself up and towards the bed, wrapping himself completely in the blankets as he waits it out. By the time Eliott actually sends something, Lucas’s already shivering from the nerves. 

srodulv The guy you were with today The one you post about a lot Who is he?

Lucas exhales a huge breath. And then he reads the messages again.

Rereads them over and over.

“Shut the fuck up,” he whispers to himself. “No,” he continues, letting out a loud laugh before slapping a hand over his mouth, conscious of Yann sleeping next door. 

Which. Yann. Is Eliott—

He throws his phone to the foot of the bed, needing to bury his entire self in the blankets to suppress a scream. Lucas allows himself a little flail. Just a tiny bit, the movement’s barely even visible. An arm shoots out from the blanket lump a minute later, feeling around for the discarded phone before his head pops back out as well. He must have taken too long answer because Eliott types up another message. 

srodulv You really don’t have to tell me, it’s fine

lucallemant Eliott  That’s my best friend 

He bites his bottom lip, adding a cheeky afterthought. 

lucallemant Don’t worry 

srodulv Ah, okay Now I won’t 

lucallemant You were worried?

srodulv Yes

Fuck, Lucas thinks, his heart’s going to burst out of his chest at this point.

lucallemant Stop that

srodulv What? Who gets a dog and goes on champagne dates with their best friend? 

lucallemant Lol Champagne is the dog That’s her name

srodulv OH

lucallemant Yup and we were with my mom and her friend too so

srodulv Oh

lucallemant You all good now?

srodulv :)

lucallemant Weirdo

srodulv This weirdo can’t wait til 13h  

lucallemant Haha go to sleep Eliott 

srodulv You too, Lucas Sweet dreams

Lucas flops down on the bed, face first. Feelings are so exhausting.

[movedvalkyriesryde]

Proud

Pairing: Mentor!Bucky x Teenage!Reader

Summary: Y/N needs to interview someone for a history assignment and who better to go to than Bucky.

Warnings: Swears lol

Request: By Anon - I think I just saw you wanted requests so what about a Bucky one where you're like a similar age to Peter and you and Buck have a similar child to parent dynamic (like Peter and Tony). You dont have to do it, it's just inspiration xx 

A/N: This was so much fun to write! It’s shorter than I would have liked so sorry about that but I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1,806

Masterlist

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Afternoon Mr Barnes,” the young girl jumped onto the counter behind where Bucky sat on the ground in front of his motorbike. He couldn’t get any peace and quiet in this godforsaken place, also since when are there so many children around, he thought to himself.

“Afternoon Miss Y/L/N” he turned his head to the girl on the counter and gave her a small smile which she immediately returned, “and what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Peter said I could come round and study,” she shrugged her shoulders and picked at the edges of the book on her lap, the smile on her face no gone, “needed to get out of the house.”

Bucky nodded his head and pointed towards the toolbox next to her, “well if you’re here you may as well help me, can you pass me that spanner,” she did as she was told, sitting on a stool after the task was done. 

Y/N was always thankful for Bucky, he never asked her questions when she would show up with Peter at the compound, he would just put her to work and teach her new things about whatever he was working on. Bucky was thankful for Y/N, she never pestered him about how he was doing and she always helped him when he was working on his bikes. He was starting to understand why Tony accumulated a number of unofficially adopted children, they were nice to have around. 

The two didn’t talk much, neither were big talkers, but it worked for them. Steve had joked that she was a mini version of Bucky which got a series of nods and agreements from the others.It also got a groan from Bucky but then a giant smile broke out on his face, they were right and he was goddamn happy about it. 

Y/N was fascinated with machinery and how things worked, anything from a microwave to a car to society she wanted to know how it ticked. She wasn’t so much interested in Tony’s work though, she liked it sure, but it was much too advanced for her, she was much happier working on machines by hand and not creating her own. She liked to break things apart just to see if she could put it back together. That’s how she found herself in the garage of the compound one day after telling Peter she couldn’t go home just yet. He’d invited her to hang out at the compound while he worked with Tony, maybe she could join them he had suggested. It didn’t take long for Y/N to start wandering through the halls until she came across Sam pulling out stones from between the metal components of his wings. She stood and watched for ten minutes before he asked if she was okay.

“How do you get the wings to move like that?” She asked instead, her head leaning forward to get a better look at the mechanics in the wing. “Did you use references from a specific species of bird or several different species?” Sam stared at her with eyes wide not quite knowing how to answer. It’s not like he’d made the thing he just had a deal with Tony that he’d keep it clean. Before he could answer the sound of an engine sputtering to life came from behind him, or an engine attempting to sputter to life, it didn’t quite make it. This immediately got the teenagers attention, She moved around Sam’s workbench to find Bucky scratching his head and muttering an assortment of swears towards the motorbike. 

“Whatcha’ doing?” She’d asked eagerly, “and can I help?” 

From then on whenever she came to the compound Y/N found her way to Bucky’s side, most of the time it was at his workbench. Sometimes he would be cleaning his guns while she sat and did homework and assignments, every so often asking him a question and getting the same answer “I don’t know, fuck knows why you’re asking me,” other times he would be working on his own project of building his own bike and she would be sat there helping him, she had made an entire notebook of specs for the different parts and what they were doing. On a couple occasions, and after months of begging, Nat had walked in on Bucky teaching Y/N how to throw a knife, she got the hang of that faster than Nat would like to admit. However Bucky couldn’t have been prouder and bragged about it for a solid week to anyone that would listen to him. ‘The kids a natural’ he would tell them.

At this point in time Y/N was sitting on the workbench while Bucky puttered away with his bike,  she wasn’t quite sure how to ask him for help but she needed it.

“Hey Bucky,” he hummed in response, not looking up from his hands, “I have this history assignment due and I was wondering if you could help me? It’s just an interview,” her words were rushed but it caught his attention. 

“I’m not good at helping you with school work you know that,” he looked at her pleading that she not ask for his help, he hated that he wasn’t able to help her with such a big part of her life but what did he know about what they learnt in school these days? It’d been a while since he’d sat in a classroom. “Why don’t you ask Bruce?”

“Because it’s about The Great Depression, I thought maybe I could have a first hand account of it,” she gave him a toothy grin, knowing he couldn’t actually say no to her. Bucky sighed as he put his tools down and wiped his hands on a rag.

“What about Steve?” he tried.

“Steve’s not here.” and he failed. Bucky rolled his eyes but stood up nonetheless and sat on the stool next to her.

“Fine then, what do you want to know?” Y/N opened her notebook to a blank page and paused for a second, her pen hovering before turning to Bucky.

“I’m not going to lie, I didn’t think I’d get this far,” she turned back to her notebook and pulled out a paper from the back that had the questions she wanted to ask on it.

“Good, it’s never happening again,” he chuckled. 

“That’s a lie, okay first question…”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Y/N sat at the dining table finishing her analysis of the interview she’d done with Bucky while he was in the kitchen making them food. ‘You need food to keep that brain ticking’ he’d said. 

There was a decent amount of information to get through to be fair, once she got Bucky talking he would go on tangents about different things and tell her all sorts of stories about what he would get up to to pass the time back in the day. She’d written everything down, recorded it on her phone to go back over at school tomorrow just in case she had missed something. It was rare that Bucky talked about himself, let alone his life before the war, but it was a refreshing change that she hoped she could get more of. 

“Eat,” Bucky said dropping a plate of cut up fruits on the table. Y/N muffled a thank you at the same time shoving a slice of apple in her mouth. 

“Ohh oranges!” Peter jogged up to the table and reached across her to grab a piece of the fruit before sliding in the seat across from Y/N.

“Hey, you all done?” she asked, looked up at the boy smiling at her with the orange peel in his face and nodding. 

“Yup, what are you doing?” he asked taking the peel out of his mouth and going for another piece. Bucky picked up the book in front of him, Y/N’s history textbook and started skimming through the pages.

“My history assignment,” she smiled, Peter thought for a second before he perked up, remembering what she was talking about.

“The one you have to interview a grandparent for?” he asked, feeling proud of himself for remembering what the assignment actually was, until he saw his friend’s panicked face.

“GRANDPARENT?!” Bucky yelled looking at Y/N with an unamused face. 

“It’s not like that!” she exclaimed back, “thanks a lot Peter,” she mumbled under her breath and side eyed the boy who was sinking into his seat. 

“Oh so you didn’t have to interview a GRANDPARENT for your assignment?” the sarcasm drooled out of his mouth with every word. Is that how she saw him? As some old coot?

“Okay yes that was the outline but I didn’t want to do that! I wanted to interview you! So I picked a time where I could use you and it would still fit the outline,” she looked at the man next to her, her eyes were wide and she had a slight frown. As soon as Y/N had gotten the assignment she wanted to interview Bucky, but she needed a piece of history to ask him about that would fit, so she found one. Was that so bad? That she just wanted interview him and not anyone else?

“You wanted to interview me?” his voice was softer now, he couldn’t help the smile on his face when she nodded. He felt a sense of pride that she had thought of him first, that she wanted him to be apart of her school work. He felt special, thought of, like she’d confirmed the special bond they had. “Suppose that’s alright then,” Bucky laughed at Y/N’s face lighting up, “but I better get a copy once you’re done, gotta make sure you’re not talking shit.” He pointed a finger towards her and passed her the textbook so she could put it back in her bag.

“Promise,” she smiled standing from her seat with Peter following, “thanks Buck,” Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck from behind before running off after Peter towards the elevator, giving him a final wave goodbye. 

“Bastard kids get under your skin before you know what’s happening don’t they,” Bucky turned his attention to Tony who had sat himself where Peter had been.

“Yea,” Bucky agreed, picking up the last piece of apple from the plate, “suppose it’s not a bad thing.” 

It was definitely not a bad thing and you can bet your ass that as soon as Bucky had that assignment in his hands he was shoving it in everyone’s faces exclaiming that his kid wrote all about him, “that’s right Steve, she picked ME for her history assignment!” and it was pinned to his board in his room from there on out, more permanent than on the fridge, he told her proudly. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thank you for reading and as always, requests are open!!

[dr-gloom]

This is Halloween (Everybody Make a Scene)

Day 2 of the Sander’s Sides Spook Month! Oi Vey

Prompt: Trick-Or-Treating

Fandom: Sander’s Sides

Paring: LAMP/CALM

Words: 4,326 (sorryyyyy)

Summary: Patton really wants to go trick-or-treating and manages to convince his boyfriends, but not everyone is as enthusiastic as him about the idea of adult trick-or-treaters. 

Tags/Warnings: genderfluid Patton, Nightmare Before Christmas all over the place, I’m not sorry, some anxiety but let’s be honest I can’t write anything with Virgil without him freaking out at some point, mean suburban mom, can anyone feel my distaste for the suburbs yet?

Enjoy!

AO3

fic masterlist

like what I do? buy me a coffee or GoFundMe

Reblogs > Likes

@sanderssidesspook

taglist: 

@hungry-red-panda

Patton couldn’t believe no one was going trick-or-treating this year! Sure, they were all adults, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have fun on Halloween. For some people, this meant going to haunted houses, or throwing parties, or watching horror movies. However, Virgil’s anxiety, Logan’s too-logical standpoint, and Roman’s tendency to have vivid nightmares for days when he was scared meant that the four couldn’t exactly participate in these things. That was fine with them; they didn’t need to go to crowded, noisy parties or scare themselves on purpose. That’s why they went trick-or-treating!

At least, they used to. The four of them had practically grown up together (with the exception of meeting Virgil in middle school) and they’d always trick-or-treated together for as long as Patton could remember. The tradition even carried on into high school, though Virgil was a little more reluctant after freshman year, which confused Patton (they always managed to talk him into it at the last minute though). Now that they’d graduated and were making plans for their future, the two calmer men had taken it as a sign to stop with the tradition. It was unacceptable!

Patton had been blowing up their group text for weeks with Halloween memes and requests to join him for trick-or-treating for the past few weeks, and so far, all he’d gotten was a confirmation from Roman – who he knew would never skip out on trick-or-treating – and a series of ‘lol’s from Virgil. Logan blatantly ignored anything to do with Halloween, instead sending the other three reminders to get to bed on time, do their assignments, or set their alarms for work. And he called Patton the worrywart.

Patton huffs as he checks his phone, shouldering his bookbag as he leaves his English class. Nothing from any of his boyfriends. Of course. Virgil was either asleep - seeing as he worked nights – or doing homework weeks before it was due – and Roman was undoubtedly at the theater rehearsing. He wouldn’t answer his phone for anything short of a fire. Someone shoulder-checked Patton, muttering something about ‘inconsiderate’ and ‘phones’, but Patton chose to ignore them. He wouldn’t let one grumpy gus sour his good mood!

He sends another message then pockets his phone, heading to the cafeteria. He just had to wait until Logan got out of class and Virgil got to school. He grabs their usual table in the corner of the cafeteria and sets his stuff spread out across the table, effectively reserving the space and letting himself drift off in thought. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting like this when someone knocked on the table, startling him out of his thoughts. He looks up, smile growing on his face as he takes in Logan standing in front of him. He jumps up, darting to the other side of the table and pulling his boyfriend into a tight hug.

“Logan! Did you get out of class early?” Logan hugs back, his hold gentle but firm. “No, I believe you were simply stuck in your thoughts again, Patton.” Patton grins, letting go of Logan and rocking back on his feet.

“Well, I can’t help it! I was thinking about you-“ Logan blushes. “-and how much fun we’re gonna have trick-or-treating!” Logan blinks, processing what Patton said and groaning. “You’re still going on about that? I thought I told you, we’re far to old to be participating in such juvenile activities.” Patton sighs softly and gives Logan his best Kicked Puppy face. He can’t say no to that!

“No, Patton.”

“… Fine.” Patton wasn’t giving up, though. He will get Logan and Virgil to agree! The two sit down, Logan sitting across from Patton, quickly launching into conversation about their classmates and crazy professors. Virgil shows up not long after, slumping into the chair beside Patton and tiredly accepting his hug.

“Hey V! Did you get lots of sleep?” Virgil shrugs, splaying out over the chair like a true Disaster Gay™. “I slept a few hours last night.” Patton pouts, slumping his shoulders. “Then what’ve you been doing all day?” Virgil looks at his lap, picking at his nails. Patton frowns. “You were pacing your room worrying again, weren’t you?” Virgil doesn’t say anything. Patton’s frown deepens and he rotates his chair to fully face Virgil, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and folding his hands together. “Come on, Virge, talk to us. What’s wrong?”

Virgil looks off at some distant corner as he speaks, unable to make eye contact. “I… Well, you want to go trick-or-treating this year…” Patton perks up slightly. “… I want to too, you know I love Halloween, but… Logan’s right. We’re too old. What if people stare at us? Or get mad at us? I don’t want some suburban mom sneering at us in front of a bunch of kids…” He shrugs, picking at his cuticles. “It’s dumb, I shouldn’t be worried about this, but I am. Sorry.”

Patton shakes his head and takes Virgil’s hands, stopping his nervous habit, his eyes drawn to the blue bracelet on Patton’s wrist. “Hey, none of that. Your worries are always valid, because they’re something that matters to you… If you really don’t want to go trick or treating this year, we don’t have to. But! If we do, it’ll be a ton of fun, whether something happens or not.” He notices Virgil’s expression, tacking on, “And if something does happen, you know me, Lo, and Ro will be right there with you to give ‘em what for!” He pulls back to mime an upper cut and Virgil snrks. Patton’s smile re-appears, and he squeezes the hand he’s still holding. “Whatever you decide to do, I’ll respect your decision, okay?”

Virgil squeezes back, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thanks, Pat.”

After that, the three boyfriends chat about school, the more resigned mood of the previous conversation quickly forgotten. Logan has to head to astrology not long after, bidding Patton and Virgil farewell and promising to stop by Patton’s apartment tomorrow. Once he’s gone, Patton turns back to Virgil, his bright smile turning to something softer.

“You doing okay now?”

Virgil nods, glancing at his hands. “Yeah… you sure you’d be okay with not trick or treating, though? I know you were really looking forward to it.” Patton’s mouth quirks to the side and he shrugs. “Well, I’ll be kinda bummed, because it’s super fun, but I’d much rather be with you guys than walking around by myself for candy I can buy. It’s about the experience.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Virgil. “But if we do,” He leans over and whispers in Virgil’s ear, smirking when the other shivers. “I have a feeling you’ll really like my costume.” When he sits back, Virgil’s face is absolutely red. Virgil pulls his hood up and ducks his head down, grumbling under his breath about ‘unfair sexy assholes’. Patton laughs, standing up and patting Virgil on the head.

“I gotta head to class, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” Virgil nods. “Yeah Pat, see you tomorrow.” Patton leans down as Virgil tilts his head up, the two sharing a brief kiss before Patton runs off to class. Virgil was practically guaranteed to come trick-or-treating now! Maybe Logan will be easier to convince now that he’s the only one resisting.

Patton paces their living room, practically vibrating with excitement. Their boyfriends were coming over!

Okay, so they came over pretty much every free day they had, and they saw Logan and Virgil at school at least three times a week, but still! They’re coming over! And they love them so much! And they were all going to have fun, watch movies, and (if Roman brought over his manipedi set like last time) do their nails! Patton glances at the purple bracelet on their wrist, the stamped-on words reading ‘they/them’. They’d been a gift from Logan when Patton came out as genderfluid. They had a purple one for they/them days, which they were wearing now, a blue one for he/him days, and a pink one for she/her days.

Maybe they’ll have Roman paint their nails purple this time.

A knock sounds at the door, and Patton rushes to answer it, yanking the door open and bouncing on the balls of their feet. Virgil stood on the other side of the doorway, hunched in on himself with his hands shoved in his pockets. His bulky headphones sat around his neck, meaning Virgil was feeling more anxious than usual; he had earbuds, but he used the headphones when he was feeling particularly anxious – they blocked out noise better and made it obvious he didn’t want people talking to him. Patton steps aside, chewing on their lip slightly.

“Kiddo, you know you can just walk in! This apartment is just as much mine as it is any of yours.” Virgil shrugs, sitting on the coffee table. “I know, I just feel weird walking into other people’s homes, even if that person is my-“ He hesitates slightly, and Patton just catches the movement of his eyes glancing down at their wrist. “-datemate. Actually, that makes it more awkward; what if you were making out with Roman? I’ve been humiliated enough.” Patton laughs at that, feeling their cheeks heat up slightly. “Okay, I get it. How about next time you text me and I’ll let you know if it’s safe?”

Virgil nods, propping his feet on the couch. “Sure, sounds good.” He looks around for a moment before adding, “Any idea when the others are going to get here, by the way?” Patton pulls out their phone. “Lo said he’d be here soon, and that was fifteen minutes ago, but you know how he can be.” Virgil chuckles. “Roman said he has to finish running through lines, so he’ll be here around noon. Which is in…” They check their cat wall clock, despite having a phone in their hand. “Twenty minutes!”

Virgil nods, and Patton sits on the couch, starting up a movie. Virgil turns around, sitting criss-cross on the coffee table, and leans back so his head is in Patton’s lap. His chest is hanging precariously in mid-air, making Patton laugh as they card their fingers through Virgil’s plumb-pigmented hair. They’re twenty minutes into the movie when Logan walks in, knocking on the door as he opens it. Patton grins at him from the couch and looks at Virgil’s upside-down face. “See? Lo gets it.” Virgil just sticks his tongue out, making Patton laugh as they turn their attention back to Logan. “Hey Lo! We’re just watching Nightmare Before Christmas, you wanna join?” Logan looks at the TV as he sits in the armchair. “I take it we’re waiting on Roman, then?” The two on the couch nod and Logan sighs softly. “Well, as far as Disney goes, I suppose we could do a lot worse than Nightmare Before Christmas.” Patton claps excitedly and goes to unpause the movie, jumping when the door suddenly opens.

“I want adventure in the great wide somewhere  ̴!”

Virgil smirks. “Then go, no one’s stopping you.”

Roman flops down on the couch, his head on Patton’s shoulder. “But not today ‘cause I am tired ̴.” Patton pats Roman’s head. “Bad day at work?” Roman sighs, shrugging softly. “There’s no such thing as a bad day in theater! But if there was… This would definitely fall into that category.” Patton makes an upset sound, hugging Roman. Virgil sits up and turns around to face the other three, looking at Roman. “What happened? I didn’t think theater nerds ever had bad days; all of you are always way too energetic and happy.” Roman laughs slightly, shaking his head. “It was sort of a Murphy’s Law kind of day. The costumes came back from the cleaners with some sort of disgusting residue on them that we can’t get off, my co-star fell off the stage and got a concussion, the director’s partner is in the hospital… No one could focus, and we’re performing next week.”

Virgil and Logan share a look as Patton rushes to make Roman feel better. “Don’t worry Ro! I’m sure everything will sort itself out and you guys will have a great show!” Roman doesn’t look like he believes them, so they continue. “You know what’d help distract you? Planning for trick-or-treating!” Roman perks up, looking between his partners. “You got them to say yes? We’re going?” Logan shot Patton a look, though the latter didn’t seem too guilty.

“I have agreed to no such thing. Both myself and Virgil have agreed-“

“Actually…. I kind of, maybe, want to go…” Patton and Roman wear twin looks of enthusiasm, and Logan looks at Virgil like he just took the last copy of Sherlock Holmes. “I know, okay. I know. But… They really wanna do it, and we always have fun… So why not? At least one last time.” Patton glances between Logan and Virgil, holding their breath. Roman bounces slightly on the couch, bad day all but forgotten. Logan looks between the other three and sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “… Fine. Are we doing group costumes this year?”

His question was nearly drowned out by enthusiastic cheering.

Virgil messed with the fabric of his costume, wishing (not for the first time that evening) that he didn’t care about authenticity. This thing was itchy as hell. He looks up in the mirror, plucking at the burlap to pull it away from his arms. His body was thankfully protected by the pillows he was using as stuffing; The Boogey Man was pretty fat for a sack full of bugs. He checked his makeup one last time to make sure it was okay, thankful that it was supposed to be cold tonight and that he wouldn’t be overheating.

“Virge, come on! We’re going to miss all the candy!”

“Patently impossible; people often buy more candy than they could ever hope to distribute to avoid that dilemma.”

“Don’t logic me, Logan! You’re supposed to be Lock, stay in character!”

“I am; Lock is arguably the smartest of the three, next to Shock.”

Virgil shuts his door behind him, joining the other three in the living room. “So Patton’s the smartest, is what you’re saying.” Roman laughs, and Patton tries to stifle a laugh, wrist showing off a pink bracelet. Logan rolls his eyes.

“You know as well as I that Patton is Shock because she is having a ‘she day’, as we have grown to call it. She was going to be Barrel.” Roman throws an arm around Patton’s shoulders, leaning his weight against her slightly. “Well, she does look cute in that little witch dress, don’t you think?” Virgil looks at Patton’s costume, cheeks pinking slightly. He was ninety percent sure Shock’s dress was not supposed to be that short, or tight. Patton also had a wig on under her witch’s hat, styled to look more like Shock’s crazy hair. It’d taken almost an entire can of hair spray for Roman to get that right, but she looked great, Virgil had to admit.

“I was gonna be Shock even if this was a he or they day, and you know it! You’d never wear this dress, Lo.” Logan rolls his eyes again, adjusting his glasses.

“Yes, well, perhaps we should get going? Roman was insisting on not wasting anymore time.”

Roman jumps to attention, heading for the door. “Right! Off we go, gentleman! And lady.” He adds, winking at Patton and making her giggle. Virgil plucks at the burlap one last time before looking back at his apartment, standing in the doorway. He better not regret this.

They’d been out for about an hour now, methodically weaving their way through the local neighborhoods. Virgil had been extremely anxious in the beginning, hanging in the back of their little group and staying quiet whenever children would pass with their parents. After enough spontaneous singing (Roman) and peppy jokes and stories (Patton), he’d begun to calm down enough to really enjoy himself. Currently, they were headed down the block, skipping a few houses in favor of making their way to the richer neighborhoods; some kid had told Roman there were full-sized candy bars.

The divide between the social classes was apparent in the decorations; those with plenty of money and financial security were more comfortable blowing cash on fancy decorations like animatronic zombies or demon children. Virgil could see the first houses just ahead when he started catching the stares. And the whispers. The children pointing fingers. Parents squinting or shaking their heads. Virgil looked at the ground, a ball of embarrassment and shame tainting his previously good mood.

Patton noticed Virgil’s sudden silence and looked around, apparently catching on to the same thing as Virgil and hooking her arm in his burlap-clad one. “Hey.” Virgil looks up, eyebrows knit in a silent question. “It’s okay. It’s like Dr. Seuss said! Those who mind don’t matter. Right? Let’s have some fun, Virge.” Virgil looks at Patton’s face, pale with Halloween makeup, and nods. “Right. Sorry, Pat.” Patton just smiles and pats Virgil’s arm, walking with him behind Logan and Roman, who were debating the validity of a malevolent spirit attached to a body of water.

The first couple houses they’d visited did in fact have full-sized candy bars. The homeowners had given the four adults slightly strained smiles with the shouts of “trick-or-treat!” but had handed over the candy nonetheless. Virgil suspected it had something to do with there being children around; they didn’t want to ruin the Halloween spirit by yelling at people in costume. He shrugged it off, repeating Patton’s words in his head. Those who mind don’t matter.

The next block or so was full of less-than-pleased adults, muttering comments under their breath that even had Patton frowning a little under her mask that came with the Shock costume. They still got candy, though it was becoming increasingly hard to ignore the stares they were getting, or the comments being thrown in their direction passive-aggressively. Virgil squeezed his eyes shut briefly to ward off the negativity. Those who mind don’t matter.

The next couple houses shut their doors as soon as they saw Virgil and his partners.

Those who mind don’t matter.

Patton didn’t let it get to him, insisting to the others that there’d be more houses further down the road. Besides, they still had the rest of the regular neighborhoods! Those who mind don’t matter.

Roman had been telling the other three about the past week of rehearsals, or tech week, as they called it. Virgil was looking over at him over Patton’s shoulder as they all walked, not bothering with the thin sidewalks and instead travelling down the road like many parent groups did with their children. They’d been passing one such group as Roman monologued, waving his hands around. Virgil hadn’t been paying attention and ended up bumping someone with his shoulder, turning to apologize.

“Ah, shi- sorry about that, I-“

“Are you kidding me?” The woman turned to face him, glaring at him with a force Virgil would have thought completely unnecessary if his brain hadn’t just short-circuited.

“I- what?”

By this point, both groups had stopped, noticing the two had stopped. Logan kept Roman and Patton back, watching silently to see if the situation would evolve. The other parents stood behind the woman, keeping their children corralled as she went off on Virgil, who’d already begun to panic.

“Seriously, how old are you? And you’re out here trick-or-treating like some kid? That’s so immature! Not only that, it’s incredibly rude to the children! You’re taking their candy! Don’t you have a job, you little freeloader? Go get your own! What would your mom think if she could see you right now? You should be ashamed of yourself!”

That was enough for Roman. He pushed Logan out of the way, standing between Virgil and the woman. “That’s enough. You have no right to talk to him like that.” The woman scoffed, looking back to the other parents for a moment before turning back to Roman as Patton walked over and wrapped her arms around Virgil. “You all need to get your brains checked. This is a kid’s holiday, you don’t have the right to interfere with that! Grow up!” Logan joined Roman, his shoulders tense as he regarded the woman with cold indifference.

“I believe it is you who needs to ‘grow up’, madam. My partners and I were simply having a pleasant night. We haven’t bothered anyone who wasn’t okay with this. Several doors have been shut in our face, and we chose to simply walk away rather than demand compensation, as I have seen you do at the house of those lovely Jehovah’s Witnesses. You do realize they don’t celebrate any holiday, don’t you? That was incredibly childish and rude.”

The woman has the sense to look slightly embarrassed at that, and one glance at the other parents shows that they were pretty much in agreement with Logan but hadn’t said anything. Patton joins her boyfriends, still hugging Virgil, whose head is ducked down to hide his face in the hood of his costume (he was glad he’d refused a costume without a hood now). “Yeah! Why do you have to be so mean? He said he was sorry he bumped into you; he’s the sweetest guy I know! I think you need to say you’re sorry.” The woman sputters, looking affronted. “E-excuse me? Apologize? I didn’t-“

“You’re right, you didn’t apologize. That’s not very nice of you, miss. Don’t you want to be a good example for your kiddos?” Patton had that look on her face when she was determined to stand up for something, no matter the cost.

“Mom, seriously, just apologize so we can go? I want more candy.”

Thoroughly embarrassed, the woman stutters her was through an apology. Virgil mutters, “no big” and turns to keep walking, heading toward home. Both groups depart, Logan, Roman and Patton following Virgil with concerned looks. They finally catch up to Virgil at the end of the block, and Roman grabs his shoulder, spinning him around. He still hasn’t looked up from the ground, his hair and the hood obscuring his face. “Hey, come on Storm Cloud, what’s wrong?” Virgil shrugs out of Roman’s hold. “I just wanna go home, okay?” Patton and Roman share a worried look. “Okay… How about we head back to my place and watch Halloween movies?” Virgil shrugs, scuffing his shoe on the asphalt. “Fine, okay. Sure.”

The four head to Roman’s house, Patton holding Virgil’s hand the whole way back and not letting go until they walked through the front door. Logan sat on one end of the couch, and Roman on the other, leaving only the middle cushion for Virgil. He knew what they were up to, sitting between them with a roll of his eyes. Roman wrapped an arm around his shoulder, tucking Virgil’s head into his shoulder and running his fingers through the other’s hair. Logan took one of his hands, running his thumb along Virgil’s palm. Virgil closed his eyes, already feeling himself relax as the title screen for Nightmare Before Christmas played and Patton sat on the floor, leaning back against Virgil’s legs.

They weren’t even ten minutes into the movie when Virgil finally opened his eyes and spoke up. “I’m sorry, guys.” The movie was paused, and all three turned to face Virgil. “For what?” Virgil wasn’t exactly sure who asked; he refused to look up from his lap, and his pulse in his ears was making it hard to hear. Why were heartfelt moments so hard? He chewed on his lip for a moment, trying to force the words out past where they’d gotten stuck in his throat. The others waited patiently, watching Virgil try to draw up the courage to voice his thoughts.

“For ruining Halloween for you guys.”

Roman and Patton open their mouths to object, but Virgil cuts them off; now that he’d managed to say that much, the rest just came flooding out. “I know you were really looking forward to trick-or-treating, especially since we haven’t done it in a few years, and I just made you all come home because I couldn’t get over what one dumb parent said to me. You even said it yourself, Patton; those who mind don’t matter. It shouldn’t matter to me, but it does for some reason and I can’t get it out of my head. I feel like an idiot-.” Virgil’s voice chokes off as he feels tears well in his eyes. Great, first he ruins trick-or-treating, and now he’s going to cry. Perfect, good job, Virgil.

Roman tightens his hold on Virgil, and Logan resumes stroking his palm gently. Patton takes his free hand, drawing his focus. “Virgil. Do you remember what I said when I was trying to convince you and Lo to go trick-or-treating with me and Ro?” Virgil tried to think back. “…Your costume was gonna be hot?” Patton laughs and shakes her head. “Well, yeah, but not what I meant. I said I’d rather sit inside watching movies all night than trick-or-treating, if it was with all of you. Remember?” Virgil nods, cheeks slightly pink. Patton smiles. “I meant it, Virge. If I have you three, I’m fine watching grass grow!” Virgil laughs softly.

“Okay, I get it…. Thanks, Pat. Thanks guys.” The other two nods silently, cuddling closer to Virgil. As verbose as Roman could be, Patton was better at truly expressing how they all felt. Especially at times like this. Patton turns back to the TV, unpausing the movie and singing along to What’s This. Virgil’s smile softens his face as he closes his eyes again, truly allowing himself to relax in the presence of his boyfriends and non-binary datemate. Maybe tonight hadn’t been so bad after all.