#their paws smell like popcorn sometimes though

[madelineserenity]

Reaper Nurse Christmas Prompt Countdown | Day 4: Movies

This one is unclear on the reader's relationship to the nurses and can be interpreted however you'd like. As Christmas is a time for family, I'll be writing some with a child, girlfriend/wife/fiancée, etc. reader. It's also in dot points because this one is headcanons, not an entire fic. Also because this is a headcanon one, it's exempt from having to use periods at the ends of the headcanons because fuck social and fanfic norms

• home alone home alone home alone home alone home alone home alone home alone home alone home alone home alone home alone home alone home alone home alone home alone home alone home-

• It's just a tradition at this point

• You always cover your eyes and ask one of the nurses to cover your ears when Marv steps on the nail

• There is no Christmas at the hospital without Home Alone

• The second one is optional but recommended, the first one is a necessity

• You watch them in the Therapy Centre, projecting it on one of the walls and using speakers so Matron can watch too

• The nurses always bring 4 or 5 different flavours of popcorn (this year, plain salted, sweet and salty, buttery, caramel and cheddar)

• They just can't keep up with which flavour is your favourite

• They always have a mix of plain salted and caramel popcorn in the red-striped cardboard containers, every now and then you'll find a wrapped hard butterscotch candy in there, and there's always a candy cane at the top

• Hot chocolate hot chocolate hot chocolate-

• Caroline has 100% tried to snort the hot chocolate powder in the past to be funny, and had to leave, coughing, sputtering, and with her bleeding nose staining her bag

• It dampened your mood for a little while, but the Matron and the remaining nurses were able to cheer you up

• You'd forgotten about it the second they unpaused the movie

• It's a funny story now and sometimes you tell it to the guests (who think it's hilarious) if Caroline pranks you or if you're just feeling like being an asshole

• Warm fuzzy blankets. They smell fresh and clean, slightly floral, even, as if just out of the wash. It's a very comforting smell. They also feel like they've just been taken out of the dryer, warm and fuzzy as a Pomeranian and as soft as butterfly silk

• The whole place smells like salted butter and hot chocolate

• Matron has a bowl on her desk, every now and then you stand up, pick things from the designated "snack table", gesture for her to hold the bowl down to your level and put them in the bowl. You have to make 2-3 more trips back and forth from the table to give her a decent amount of snacks because of the size difference

• She got the bowl because you kept doing this every time you guys watched movies. She used to have her own bag of snacks but you kept forgetting about it, also you wanted to involve her in the food and fun bc she loves you too, not just the nurses

• Want to make her really happy? Bring her chocolate-covered pretzels

• If you do she'll pick you up (carefully) and hug you to her chest for a few moments, before popping you back down so you can go back to your bean bag

• I didn't already mention the bean bags? Fuck you yes I di-

• Some of you sit on bean bags. Yours is white faux fur and very cosy. It's also very big so you can have a proper nap in it, not just sit on it

• Caroline (excepting the time of The Hot Chocolate Incident™️, in which she just wasn't present) sits on a rocking stool because she's too hyper to sit still.

• Most of the nurses sit on two couches, however. One is a navy-but-not-too-navy blue that's starting to fade after all the years of the Home Alone tradition. The other is a college plastic beer pong cup red.

Imagine it like this:

stfu drawing on microsoft word with a trackpad is hard

• You'll watch movies from 7pm until 5am, when everyone is too tired to get up to change the disc or pick up the remote

• The only non-Christmas Matron will allow on Christmas Movie Night are the Austin Powers movies. They're too funny to not watch

• You and Caroline quote them all the time, even in front of Malak

• i can see this going two ways:

1, Malak doesn't understand them and just ignores the references, or gets pissed off that you're interrupting him if you're in a meeting.

2, Someone's showed it to him

and it can only be you, Caroline, Lucky or Mama Bear (everyone else is too pussy) (also Mama Bear definitely watches Austin Powers after her babies go to sleep)

in which, he'll either finish the quote, chuckle at it, or get pissed off, if you're in a meeting or if Agatha is nearby. (Obviously, if the quote is inappropriate regardless of whether or not you get it, he'll get angry if you say it near Agatha, but if it's not, he'll just brush it off as a reference he doesn't get)

• Everyone sleeps in the next day

• It fucks up your sleep schedule so badly it's only back to normal by the next movie night.

[staticscreenwriting]

Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes // 6

SIX - GHOST

Trigger warning: Alcohol, food, mention of sex (nothing graphic and no actual smut)

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

"You held hands?"

"Mmh."

"And then you cuddled."

"We didn't cuddle, I was just kind of - leaning into him. Sort of."

"So you cuddled!"

"Sure. If that's what you wanna call it. We cuddled."

"Then what?" Robin inquires. Smirking at (Y/N) over the rim of her wine glass, like a giddy pre-teen waiting for the kissing scene to come up in a romance movie.

"And nothing. That's it."

"Oh come oooon. You cozied up to each other and then just what - acted like it never happened?"

"Essentially. But that's okay. It's not a big deal. And don't say it like that."

"Like what?" Robin continues to poke and by this point, it's not so much her wanting information than her trying to rile up (Y/N). Though she's very well aware of this, (Y/N) falls for it anyway.

"Cozied up to each other," (Y/N) says and scrunches her nose up in distaste. "Like we had dirty sex or something."

"Do you want to have dirty sex with him? Oh man, imagine what that arm can do."

Holding her hand out to stop her best friend from talking, (Y/N) takes a big gulp of white wine, emptying her glass. This is a conversation that can't be held entirely sober. "First of all, don't say those things about his arm. It's- I don't know. It doesn't sit right with me."

"Sorry yeah that was … not cool" Robin apologizes and by the tone of her voice (Y/N) can tell she means it.

"I'm the first to admit that Bucky is insanely handsome and if things were different, sure. But we're friends and I really enjoy the time spent together and our friendship. I don't wanna do anything to jeopardize it or ruin it by adding unnecessary feelings to it."

"Feelings aren't unnecessary," Robin replies, combing her fingers through her fiery red curls.

"Sometimes they are. The last thing Bucky and I need is broken hearts and ruined friendships."

"What if it doesn't end that way?"

"Relationships never work out well for me, you know that."

Robin places her glass on the countertop. It means whatever talk is gonna follow, it'll be a serious one. There's been very little need for a serious talk between the girls over the time they've been friends but neither of them has ever been afraid to start those conversations and say things as they are. Sometimes that's what friendship is, being blunt even if it's not what your friend wants to hear.

"Look I'm not saying you have to take the relationship to another level. If this is making you happy the way it is, then that's all that matters to me. I just don't want you to give up on something that could be great, because you're scared and because some stupid assholes in the past didn't realize what they had in you."

Where she's only had shit luck with relationships, (Y/N) thinks she's really lucked out in the friend department. Robin is as wonderful as they come. Even if she drives her crazy sometimes.

"They weren't all assholes." (Y/N) chimes up weakly though there's not even enough determination in her voice to convince herself.

"Weren't they? Let's see ...I'm not even gonna talk about Russel. He doesn't count. Who else was there? Pete liked to show you off but he didn't like you. Did he?"

"Not really."

"See? Asshole! Kylie only wanted to be with you so she could be the cool girl who's fucked another girl once and use that as something to brag to the guys about."

"She was figuring herself out."

"She was straight, babe. She was using you and your sexuality as some kind of badge of honor so guys would think she's cool. She only wanted to make out with you at parties and when there were men around to ogle you. I’m the last person to blame anyone for trying to figure out who they are and who they like but that wasn’t the case here. She used you, and what does that make her?"

“ An asshole? “

“ An asshole!”

“ What about Ricky, he wasn’t an asshole! “ (Y/N) chimes in, filling her glass up once more.

“ Okay sure but he was your High School sweetheart and that rarely lasts. I’m not gonna count him. What about Mike —“

“— Okay, you’ve made your point. I have a bad taste in romantic partners, I get it. Doesn’t change anything. Me and Bucky we’re — we’re good as we are. No romance needed.”

“ Just don’t want you to miss out on something great.”

It’s not that the thought has never crossed her mind. In fact, when she’s being really honest to herself, it swirls around her head a lot. When he grants her one of his smiles. The rare ones that make his eyes crinkle. Or when he comes to see her and brings dog treats for Lady, just because he’s that thoughtful. Or when she noticed he put a popcorn and a sun emoji next to her name in his phone. The popcorn, as he said because she liked movies and the sun because she’s always happy and smiling. Or when he held her hand throughout the entire movie. Those are moments when (Y/N) thinks about what it would be like to be more than friends.

“ It’s great as it is now. He’s great.”

“ Then that’s all that matters to me.” Robin smiles. She has one of those smiles that makes you feel at home. Comfortable and soft. Like warm milk with honey a mom makes their child when they can’t sleep.

It’s a while later, when (Y/N) strolls back into the room, another bottle of wine in hand, that a knock sounds on her front door. Her eyes wander to Robin then to the door then back. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

“ Oh, that’s Bucky.” Robin, who’s by now migrated over to (Y/N)’s huge fluffy couch, Lady cuddled onto her lap, says with the most casual of tones (Y/N) has ever heard. As if Bucky and her have been lifelong friends. As if there is nothing strange or peculiar about this situation.

“ How do you know?”

Robin shrugs and goes back to petting Lady’s curly fur. “ He texted you when you were getting the wine. Said he was around and had food. I told him to come join us for movie night. What’s the big deal? “

“ I uh — it’s not I just — you could’ve told me. “

“ That was literally 5 minutes ago babe. I had no time to tell you yet. By the way, this man uses entirely too many emojis.”

A smile pulls on the corners of (Y/N)’s lips. She’s asked him once why he never used any emojis, or smileys as he called them (all of them — even the ones that aren’t faces). He told her he didn’t really understand when to use most of them, like the shrimp or the Hockey stick. (Y/N) told him it’s because they’re fun. Ever since then he uses all kinds of emojis with her. None really relating to his messages. It’s quite endearing if she’s being honest.

“ Are you gonna let him in? “ Robin asks, shaking (Y/N) out of her thoughts.

The smell of Chinese food floods into the apartment as (Y/N) opens her door to Bucky. He looks so effortlessly cool in his leather jacket and boots. With his hair a little longer now, all swoopy and quiffed. Like the bad boy straight from a romance novel. The one with a heart of gold. The one that gets the girl.

(Y/N) is not that girl, the one from the novels, the Hallmark movies. The one that’s quirky but never weird. The one that makes all the boys fall for her. She’s not the main character, at least according to herself. She’s the side character that shows up like twice. The one that helps the main character on their quest to self-discovery or true love. That’s who she is. Not more, not less.

“ I brought food!” Bucky exclaims as he steps inside, waving the bag around before placing it on the kitchen counter, to which Lady jumps up from her position on Robin’s lap.

Lady, (Y/N) has realized a while ago, has somehow fallen head over paws in love with Bucky. Always following him, looking up at him with her big brown puppy eyes. Always looking to be close to him. Maybe, (Y/N) thinks, it’s the treats he always carries around. But maybe it’s Bucky too and his patience and his affection and the way he greets the little dog like she’s the main reason he’s come around.

Moments like this, they come with those little flutters around the heart. People always compare them to butterflies. (Y/N) thinks that’s wrong. Butterflies are gentle, graceful, and soft. This feels like a swarm of bees. Chaotic. Overwhelming. A little bit scary.

“ Man, did you plan on coming here, or did you buy all this for yourself?” Robin asks, eyes wide in surprise at the sheer amount of styrofoam containers Bucky keeps pulling from the bags.

“ I kind of bought it with the intention of sharing, yeah. “

Robin’s eyes meet (Y/N)’s across the room and there's a silent secret there, hidden in her teasing smirk. One shared only with a friend. No words. No sounds. Just the truth and two knowing hearts connecting.

“ Am I intruding? If you guys want me to leave, I can leave. “

While he tries to keep his voice casual, the sad tint doesn’t get lost on (Y/N).

“ Absolutely not, don’t be silly. We’re just drinking wine and watching a movie and you are free to join us in both.”

While he shakes his head at her offer of wine, Bucky helps (Y/N) bring the food over to the couch and plops down in the middle of the couch, Robin to his right and (Y/N) on his left.

“ What are we watching? “ he asks, a dumpling already on the way into his mouth.

“ Well, “ Robin responds filling her glass up once more, “ it was (Y/N)’s turn to chose so —”

“ A rom-com”

“ A rom-com. “

Something about seeing these two interact and joke around inspires a fuzzy feeling to wrap itself around (Y/N)’s heart. Even if they’re making fun of her.

The way Bucky fits in here, as if it’s where he’s always belonged. The way he’s not a stranger imposing but a friend added to the mix. It’s a nice feeling. She hopes he feels it too.

“ Okay, whatever. This isn’t your usual rom-com though, there are ghosts in this one. “

“ Is it ghosts falling in love?” Robin asks and lets her laugh get swallowed by her wine glass.

“ No. Well — uh kinda but not really. They fall in love be — you know what, just start the damn movie! “

There’s an undeniable intimacy in watching your favorite movies with other people. It’s like giving away little pieces of yourself and sharing them with others. No matter how insignificant it may seem to anyone else but you. These are the things that make us who we are. Our passions. For art. For music. For books. For movies. And opening up is always scary. Even if it’s just a teeny tiny bit.

Through the corner of her eye (Y/N) glances at Bucky and Robin, trying to judge their reactions. See if they’re enjoying themselves or not. Bucky displays his ever-present scowl. It’s the default setting. Sometimes she wonders if that has always been the case. If that's just what he looks like or if years of abuse, horror, pain have left their marks on him, on not only his heart but also his face.

Maybe this can be his safe place, she thinks. Maybe she can be. Not someone to fix him, because he’s not broken, just lost. Not to fix but to hold his hand while he heals. Slowly but surely.

For a while, the three sit in comfortable silence. The kind that fills you with this inexplicable calm. Where no words are needed.

And then the beginning chords of unchained melody spill from the tv speakers. It’s a touch there, a kiss here, hands covered in clay. Bodies covered in clay. Gasps and heavy breathing. Hands grasping skin, wandering, loving.

Robin’s presence falls completely to the back of (Y/N)’s mind. Bucky’s however...

“Do you want to have dirty sex with him? “ her friend's words ghost through her head like a particularly annoying jingle for some tv ad. The room feels warm all of a sudden. Not warm — boiling. There’s a heat radiating from her right, from Bucky. So what if he’s attractive. So what if she sometimes lets her mind wander and think about how his hands would feel on her skin or his lips on hers or his — yeah okay you get the point. So what?

Bucky slumps down into the couch a little more with every second of steamy pottery sex that’s fluttering across the tv screen. Is he — nervous? Uncomfortable ? No, she must be imagining it. Projecting, that’s what this is. She’s projecting her own chaotic emotional state onto him. There’s nothing there. (Y/N) has to remind herself. Just secret little thoughts that have to be kept between her and her. As long as no one knows, no one gets hurt. It’s the easy way out. The safe way. The right way.

Right?

“ Sooo, what did you guys think?” (Y/N) asks, turning her body towards her friends and sitting criss-cross on the couch.

“ Didn’t expect all the murder. “ Bucky replies as he takes a sip from his beer. “ And the — “

“ The messy sex! I know.” a visibly intoxicated Robin cuts in.

“ Not where I was going but okay.”

She doesn’t pay his words any attention, instead of launching herself backwards over the arm of the couch, dramatically fanning herself with her perfectly manicured hand. “ I am not going to lie, oh boy that was some hot stuff. Wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Oh please,” (Y/N) chimes in, wine glass clutched in hand and smile on her face. She can clearly feel the alcohol washing through her system bringing her to the place between sober and drunk where everything feels light and your confidence seems to get a little extra boost. “ What do you have to complain about? You’re getting married in two weeks! I’m sure you get enough action as it is. “

Robin doesn’t answer right away, just throws (Y/N) a giddy, boozed-up smile. Though in her eyes, there’s a loved-up glimmer of someone about to marry the love of their life.

“ Yeah, that’s true.”

“See, so you’re not the one that should be complaining. Us, however…”

Her red curls swing around her like a spark of fire as Robin sits up again, pointing her finger at (Y/N).

“ And whose fault is that? You could be getting some if you didn’t get so lost in your romantic fantasies. And him — “ the red-haired girl exclaims before pointing her finger towards Bucky “ don’t even tell me he ain’t getting some. Look at him! Are you sexually active, Bucky? “

“ You don’t have to answer that. Robin, come on.”

“ No, you don’t have to but you should. I’m trying to prove a point. Help me prove a point, Bucky. “

“ You’re making him uncomfortable. “

“ Am I making him uncomfortable or you? “

“ Ooookay, I think it’s time for you to go to bed. “

“ Nooo, we’re having a conversation. “

“ Would you look at that, my drink is empty. I’m just gonna — I’m gonna get another one. Okay? Okay.”

Bucky doesn’t wait for an answer before getting up and rushing out of the living room and into the kitchen, clearly uncomfortable. Clearly embarrassed.

“ See what you did? You scared him off. “

“ I couldn’t scare that man off if I tried. Trust me. “ Robin murmurs, a loud yawn cutting through her argument. There’s a certain determination in her words though. Some truth hidden in there that (Y/N) can’t quite put her finger on. It’s like Robin knows something she doesn’t. And maybe it’s good this way. Maybe she doesn’t need to know.

“ Alright, whatever that’s supposed to mean, Tipsy. I’ll go see what he’s up to. You go the fuck to sleep.”

“ Whatever mom, “ Robin bickers and cuddles closer into the soft couch anyway. “ Oh, don’t forget to invite him! I like him. We’re friends now. “

“ Go to sleep! “ (Y/N) orders again, earning herself a salute from her best friend who starts snoring no more than 2 seconds later.

He feels like a 13-year-old. Actually — no. Things were easier at 13. Situations like this one were easier at 13. Being horny was easier at 13.

It was all new to him then, yes, but it was new for everyone at 13. He’s 106 now, a grown man. He should be able to talk or at least think about these things without turning into a full-blown mess. His hand is clammy, his face is probably the same shade of bright red as Robin’s hair. And by god, his thoughts are a jumbled mess, swirling around all over the place.

Truth be told, he hasn’t had a lot of time to actually think about anything even remotely physical. It was never very high on his list of things to figure out and the opportunity hasn’t really presented itself to him either. Not since the 1940s at least.

Have things changed? Surely not, right? Maybe people got a bit more experimental and for sure they talk more openly about it now but the fundamentals must have stayed the same. He sure hopes so at least.

His thoughts get interrupted as (Y/N) steps into the kitchen. Her eyes are slightly glassed over from the wine though she’s nowhere near as drunk as Robin. She seems happy, then again she always does. For a little moment, he feels jealousy wash over him. About being able to get drunk. It’s damn stupid, he’s well aware. But that doesn’t make his feelings less valid. To just drink and let go and forget, that sounds really nice.

But that’s just one of the things the serum has taken from him. By far not the worst aspect of it all but unpleasant either way.

“ Hey uh — you okay? “ she asks leaning against the kitchen island across from him.

“ Sure. Are you? “

“ I uh — might be a little drunk, “ (Y/N) confesses as she lifts her hand and indicates a tiny space with her fingers.

“ Yeah, I think you might be.” Bucky laughs. Actually laughing comes naturally when she’s around and quite honestly, at first, it made him feel guilty. Guilty about the fact that he got to laugh along with a pretty girl while so many people had to die through his hands.

He tries to push those thoughts away. They aren’t doing anyone any good. Not him and not those people either.

“ Hey, I’m sorry she was making you uncomfortable. She gets — well she has no filter when drunk. Or ever really.”

Bucky shakes his head. His finger nervously trails along the grain of the stone countertop. There are conversations he needs to have, sooner or later, if he wants to live his life. Not just coast along but actually live. But it doesn’t mean those come easy. Not for someone who’s been through all he’s been through. Not for someone who’s grown up the way he has, who’s been raised the way he has.

“ Ah, no. Don’t worry. I uh — I just. It’s been a long time since I had talks like this. “

“ Like what? “

“ Between friends, you know. About — stuff. “

“ About sex? “

“ Mmh. “

“ You don’t have to talk about it with us if you don’t want to. It’s fine. “

“ No, but I do want to talk about sex with you. I mean — not you, you. You both. But not in a weird way. I mean — with friends. “

“ Okay. “

“ It’s just that I was raised in different times and the last time I had a real actual friend that I talked to about intimate things was so long ago. Steve and I talked about everything and even then there used to be reservations. One because I don’t think Steve really wanted details and two because Steve wasn’t — he didn’t have the most experience when it came to women so it was a very one-sided conversation. And I’ve never talked about any of this with a girl. It’s all new to me but I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you. “

(Y/N) regards him with a glimmer of amusement and mischief in her eyes as she munches away on some cold leftover spring rolls.

“ You don’t have to justify yourself to me, Buck. I know you trust me, I hope you know I trust you. “

He does. And he doesn’t hate how it sounds when she calls him Buck.

“ So, Robin and Charlie are getting married in two weeks. I was wondering if you’d like to be my plus one. Back when they announced it I was under the impression Russel and I would be a thing by then but uh — clearly that didn’t happen. It’s in upstate New York. We’re all gonna stay at this gorgeous Inn and well there’s a spot open if you want it.”

“ As a plus one? “

No matter how much he wants to deny it to himself, his heart does a little flutter as she says those words. A plus one sounds like something. He’s not sure what but something, surely.

“ Yeah, as a friend, obviously. “

“ Obviously. “

There goes the flutter.

“ Robin is okay with it by the way. She explicitly told me to ask you.”

“ So Robin wants me there, not you. “

“ No! I want you there! I love spending time with you. Also, Robin’s family is crazy. I need you by my side. I need you there. I want you there. “

“The need to be needed is an individual’s sense of significance rooted in the sense of being part of a community or cause beyond themselves. The need to be needed is one of our fundamental desires. We want to feel significant in the eyes of others, even if it is only one other person. “

Bucky has read those words in one of the many magazines stacked on the little side table in the waiting room of Dr. Raynor's office. They didn’t really make much sense to him then. He always thought he’d be fine by himself.

In that moment he realizes that was all a big pile of absolute bullshit.

The feeling of being wanted, of being needed, even if it’s just one person that needs him, that means everything.

“ Okay, I’ll come. “

“ Yeah? “

And there it is again, the smile that reminds him of the sun. The smile that he’s sure could bring a thousand men to their knees, including himself.

“ Cool. I’m — I’m really happy about that. “

“ Mmh. Me too. “

For a moment they just look at each other, words unspoken swirling in the air between them, neither brave enough to let them slip from their tongue.

It’s not until a particularly loud snore coming from the living room pops the bubble and breaks the spell.

Both of them fall into giggles before Bucky speaks up again.

“ It's late I should probably go. “

“ Yeah and I should go to bed. I’ll have a hangover tomorrow for sure.”

Bucky slips into his leather jacket and places a soft kiss goodbye on Lady’s head before turning back to (Y/N).

“ For the record, I’m not getting any. “

“ I uh — okay. Good. Well not good, “ (Y/N) stumbles over her words “ not good for you. Good for me. I mean. Not that I don’t want you to have sex. But I mean, Robin was taking the piss, and if I don’t get laid it makes me feel better to know you aren’t either. Oh god, this sounds horrible. I’m just gonna stop talking now. “

Bucky smiles the brightest smile she’s ever seen him smile, it almost breaks his face in two. And even though she wants the ground to swallow her whole right then, if it puts a smile like that on his face, she’ll gratefully embarrass herself again.

“ Have a good night, (Y/N). “

“ You too, Bucky”

And with a kiss to her head, he leaves the flat, a smile staying on his lips the entire way home.

“ Why did I have to come again? This is a bachelorette party, I thought men aren’t allowed. “ Bucky grumbles as (Y/N) parks her truck in the parking lot of the convenience store. The pink and blue neon lights reflect on the wet asphalt.

“ It’s a shared party. We’re all friends so it makes sense for the couple to celebrate together. Stop moaning. “ (Y/N) exclaims as her heels create a click-clack sound.

The store is empty as they enter except for the bored-looking teenager leaning against the counter by the cash register.

There’s something about empty stores at night that makes it feel like time stands still. Like for a moment, reality is altered. There’s only you and the outdated music coming from the speakers and the hum of the refrigerators holding the soda cans.

“ I can’t believe Hannah forgot to bake the cake. It’s all she had to do. I did everything else, everything. She had one job. “

Bucky’s learned by now to just let her rant about this topic. It’s all she’s talked about for the last hours since Hannah, public enemy number one that day, has called her to inform her she’s forgotten about the cake. Why there needs to be a cake at this party, Bucky doesn’t know but hey, who is he to question it.

(Y/N) walks straight over to the counter that holds the bakery items only to be met with disappointment.

“ Well great. We can choose between one single cupcake, a box of stale donuts, and a croissant. “

“ What about this one? “ Bucky asks and points towards a bright pink cake decorated with candy roses and white icing.

“ It says Happy Birthday. “

“ Ah, don’t worry we can fix that.”

(Y/N) raises her eyebrows in doubt. “ You sure? “

“ 100%. Trust me. “

She regards him for a moment, uncertainty shining through, before granting him a little smile and a nod. “ Okay then. You get the cake, I’ll be over there for a second. “

Looking through the fridges, (Y/N)’s eyes fall onto a pack of popsicles in the shape of Captain America’s shield.

Ripping open the fridge door she calls out “ Hey Grumpy, would you like thes— “

All she hears is a smack and then Bucky’s voice exclaiming a loud “Fuck!”

And in that moment she doesn’t know what’s more shocking, the fact that she just slammed the door right into his face or hearing him swear.

“ Are you okay? I’m so sorry. “

“ I’ll be fine.”

“ We gotta put ice on it. “

“ No (Y/N) I — “

She’s already on her way to get a pack of frozen peas. And if Bucky is being real honest, his cheek does hurt quite a bit. Super Soldier Serum and all …

“ I am genuinely so sorry. “

Bucky sits on the bed of (Y/N)’s truck, frozen peas pressed to his face and a chuckle falling from his lips as (Y/N) sends yet another apology his way.

“ It’s okay, (Y/N). I told you, I’m fine. “

He pulls the peas away from his face and places them next to him, before picking up the cake and lifting the plastic lid off of the container.

“ Alright, let’s see if I can fix this. “

“ You have a bruise on your cheek. “

Bucky looks up at her with those gorgeous blue eyes of his, that (Y/N) sometimes finds herself drowning in. Calm and story all at once. Like oceans.

“ Does it make me look rough and handsome? “

“ You’re always handsome. But yes, it gives you a roguish charm. “

“ Good. “

(Y/N) feels a heat rush to her face as Bucky focuses back on the cake.

“ Mmmkay. Let me see. What if we — “ Bucky murmurs, more to himself than to (Y/N). He swipes his finger, sans glove, over the white icing letters and while there’s a good intention there, when he lifts his finger back up the cake looks like a downright mess.

“ Ta-da “ he exclaims and turns the cake towards her.

“ It says Happy day now “

“ Is it not a happy day? “ Bucky asks, eyebrows raised in question.

“ Let me rephrase that. It says ‘Happy messy white stain Day’ “

Bucky pulls his lips into a grimace, eyes wandering from (Y/N) down to the cake and back to her. “ Yeah, we can’t bring that “.

Laughter fills the air as they regard the sad mess of a cake before them. If this was a movie, (Y/N) thinks, this would be their moment. The one where they realize. The one that feels like time stops and all that matters is them.

Something wet and sticky against her cheek pulls her from her daydream.

“ What the hell? “

Bucky only grins at her. There’s the boyish charm again. It’s so insanely endearing to see these little moments flare up and push through the perpetual gloom he seems to carry with him. He doesn't hold the weight of 90 years of fighting on his shoulders right then.

“ Oh you didn’t “

Before Bucky can react she grabs a handful of the cake and smashes it against the uninjured side of his face.

“ Is that how you wanna play it? Okay. Fine. “

Cake flies through the air as their laughter rings through the night. Not a thought wasted on pain, on worries, on heartbreak.

The rooftop bar (Y/N) booked specifically for this night is covered in fairy lights and glitter decor. There’s a karaoke machine in one corner and an open bar in the other.

A loud cheer sounds from the crowd as Robin steps out into the open, fingers intertwined with those of a petite brunette with big square glasses sitting on her nose.

They get swallowed by a tidal wave of people, pulled from one hug into another, and while his eyes stay with them, Bucky feels a touch against his metal arm. (Y/N) wraps herself around him leans her head against his shoulder and stares lovingly at the couple before them.

“ I’m so glad she’s happy. I love her so much. “

“ She loves you too. “ he says.

And really how could anyone not?

A little while later, when the crowd has allowed them to breathe again, Robin and the brunette wander towards Bucky and (Y/N), matching smiles on their faces.

“ Buck, this is Charlie, Robin’s fiancee. Charlie, this is my friend Bucky. “

“ It’s so nice to meet you,” Charlie exclaims, a strong English accent dripping from her words. “ What in the world happened to your face? Are you okay? “

While Bucky smirks, (Y/N) flinches at those words and shrinks into herself a little.

“ Oh you know, funny story. Someone here was a little too excited about some red white and blue popsicles. “

Robin lets out a loud laugh “ Now that sounds like someone I know very well. “

“ They were shaped like Cap’s shield, okay. I thought it was funny and fitting. “

Charlie’s eyes move between the 3, a look of confusion settling on her features.

“ Why fitting? “

“ Oh babe, let me catch you up,” Robin says and steers Charlie in the direction of the bar.

The night flies by and for the first time in so long, Bucky doesn’t feel out of place. Not for a single moment. Even being surrounded by people he doesn’t know and while listening to music he doesn’t get. It’s nice, feeling like you belong.

Robin and Charlie have just finished their karaoke rendition of Don’t Stop Believing when a familiar voice echoes from the speakers.

“ Hello guys, my name is (Y/N). You may know me, I’m the maid of honor. I am responsible for this party — you’re welcome. Anyway, I guess it’s my turn to sing tonight but I can’t do this one alone. I’m gonna require my friend, Mr. James Buchanan Barnes up on this very stage with me. “

Oh no. Definitely no. Not in a million years. No w—

“ Because this one’s a duett. “

Her eyes meet his across the way, shining with amusement, mischief, affection. Even across the dimly lit roof, her sunshine smile seems to light up the entire night.

“ I’m not doing it, “ Bucky says and shakes his head as Robin slides up to his side.

“ C’moooon. “

“ Nope. I probably don’t even know the song. “

It’s like the universe wants to make a fool of him as in just that moment Bill Medley’s voice sounds through the night.

“ I know you know this song. “ Robin says and nudges his side “ come on don’t make her do this by herself. “

“ I — “ he looks at (Y/N) again, with her sunshine smile and those expressive eyes and the buttercream stain on her shirt. And he doesn’t see fear or pain or regret. All he ever sees when he looks at her is happiness and fun and laughter.

“ Ugh. Okay. Alright. “

Cheers follow him as he steps on stage and (Y/N) hands him the second mic. Though it’s supposed to be a duett, (Y/N) doesn’t really care and sings both parts with unfiltered joy and unapologetic passion. And while it takes a moment for him to warm up to it, Bucky can’t help but let her enthusiasm light a spark in him too and by the time the pre-chorus hits he joins her in singing their hearts out.

“ You're the one thing I can't get enough of. So I'll tell you something. This could be looooooove “

New York comes alive with the promise of a better tomorrow. One where Bucky feels like he belongs. To a place or a group of friends or a person. A tomorrow where he can laugh with a pretty girl, have food fights in a parking lot, and sing some silly song at the top of his lungs.

Maybe the song isn’t all wrong. Maybe he’s having the time of his life. And maybe, just maybe, he owes it to (Y/N).

Taglist // if you want to be added or taken off just message me :) //:

@zaynyierulez - @je-like-you - @dracoxxyoflam - @jackiehollanderr - @majo240820 - @kay-gilles -@booksb4looksstuff - @jckie94 - @charmed-asylum - @shawnie--jo - @yllwtaxi - @tailsoflightning - @giuliarogers - @mangoogirl - @gerim-1995 - @elen-alambil - @threeminutesoflife - @writeroutoftime - @buckybarn3s - @rosaline-black - @kenziekugler22 - @vghz82

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “The Pack.”

Apparently, I have been informed that I have been doing too much angst lately, and the crowd demands that I give the crew a rest. Fluff has been requested and fluff is what I shall give you. This is based on an few ideas I have been given, so I hope this is what you were looking for. 

It was warm.

She lay half asleep in the darkness with the familiar sound of mechanical humming that dominated her life these days. Familiar and unchanging scents filled the air painting a unique landscape known only to her. 

Despite there being no sun, her body told her when it was time to wake up, and she lifted her head, stepping onto the cold metal floor and stretching dangerously, yawning wide. The air was thick with one of her favorite smells, locked up here for hours.

She padded over to the other bed gearing up with a spring to jump onto the bed.

The covers were squishy and awkward to walk across, but the made it up to the head of the bed, where the source of her favorite scent was still lying asleep on his back, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his chest.

She stuck her snout into his face and began licking his cheek.

His sturred groaning before cracking open his single eye.

She did her best to lick it.

He made a snorting sound pushing against her with his hands. He grumbled at her, “Mumble mumble, Waffles, mumble mumble good girl!” She continued to lick at his face running her pink tongue over any patch of exposed skin she could fine until her pack alpha was desperately trying to cover his face.

“Waffles! Mumble mumble lay down!”

She did flopping down beside him and resting her head on his stomach. He rubbed her ears, and she closed her eyes happily, his warm heavy hand resting on her head. The smell of him filled her nose making her tail beat softly against the blankets.

He stroked a hand down her back and she sighed deeply.

“Sleep.” He ordered 

She was pretty sure it was well past when they usually woke up, but he was the boss, so she closed her eyes, her head still resting on his stomach feeling the calming movement of his breath, and listening to the calm beating of his heart. Waffles knew what her job was, and as a German Shepherd, she lived to work.

Her job?

Keeping this human happy and calm..

It had been a while since she had actually had to work hard for it, but she wasn’t unhappy about that. In fact, she saw it as a testament to her good work that this human was mostly calm and happy.

She napped there on his chest for a little while before another, familiar scent reached her nose. She lifted her head and sniffed a little. The smell was, not like something she had experienced for most of her life. It was a smell familiar to the rumbly metal box they spent most of their time in. It was a smell she recognized from strange places that sometimes looked like home but sure didn’t smell like it.

This smell was…. Hard to describe.

It was metallic, just a bit, kind of floral, but not really, and often tinged with a hint of something….toxic, but not really. The smell made her think of the color yellow, while simultaneously thinking of the smell of blood. Her tail thudded against the bed as the door slowly slid open.

The source of the smell walked across the intervening space turning its head down to make eye contact with her.

Waffles liked this smell too.

It was a smell that commonly lingered on Adam these days.

She liked this strange creature for a multitude of reasons, she made Adam happy, she was willing to sneak food to waffles, and best part: waffles rolled onto her back paws up in the air as the alien used all four hands, two to give her a belly rub and the other two to rub hands through the scruff about her neck.

She grumbled happily.

Above her Adam had sat up and was looking at her, she could see it based on the whites of his eyes.

“Spoiled dog.” He grumbled, turning his head to look up at Sunny.

Waffles sneezed and rolled back onto her stomach looking up at the two of them. The scents on the air had changed a bit. ONe of them was familiar, a sort of smell than both humans and dogs get when humans pet dogs, or hold babies, but there were some other scents too.

Waffles rested her head on her paws.

She was pretty sure that Sunny wasn’t a human based on smell, so her human’s interest was rather strange, but then again, she had once known a chihuahua infatuated with a great dane, so she supposed it wasnt THAT weird.

She listened to them talk to each other, closing her eyes again and allowing their voices to lull her back into sleep. She liked listening to them talk, it was nice. She liked being close.

Adam eventually moved, forcing her off the bed and back onto the floor where she lay by the door.

She could hear the sound of running water in the other room, and the caustic tang of chemicals.

She wasn’t the biggest fan of them, they washed away his natural smell and covered it up with smells that were wrong, but she could forgive him for that, it was ok.

When he came back out smelling of chemicals and dressed in new clothes, she dropped into step at his heels as he walked out the door. Sunny was waiting for them and together they walked up the hallway. SHe lifted her head as they talked smelling the smells and listening to the distant clatter of engines and voices.

Adam did not go up today, so that must mean today was a relaxing day, not as much movement as usual. She liked days like that because they usually involved popcorn or pancakes. Speaking of pancakes, she could smell them now wafting up from two floors down.

She wagged her tail and moved on ahead of Adam turnin to look over her shoulder at him.

He showed his teeth at her, in a good way, “I think she can smell the pancakes.”

Her tail began to wag furiously.

“Maybe you should have named her pancake.”

“Maybe I should have.”

Waffles didn’t know what ninety percent of that meant, all she heard was pancakes, and that gave her even more o a reason to hurry into the box that took them down to the pancake room.

Smells wafted into her face as the door opened, and she hurried inside. There were so many good smells, so many familiar people and faces and voices her tail wagged happily from side to side and she pranced around Adam’s feet looking up at him with an expectant expression.

When he finally hurried up and got food, and they sat down, he was joined by a group of others.

She recognized the smells of the different humans.

Ramirez 

Dr. Katie.

Maverick.

She sat under the table and rested her head on Ramirez’s knee. He was a sucker, and she could usually get something out of him. He looked down at her, to where her head was resting on his knee, and he saw the muscles in his face move upwards. The eyes were very important in humans. She watched his brows move up, and he looked over to where Adam was sitting, “I’m assuming she’s not working?”

Adam shook his head, “No, go ahead.”

He reached his hands down and began rubbing the side of her face and ears. Her tail beat against Adam’s legs. Granted this wasn’t a pancake, but it was almost as good.

Ramirez glanced over at Adam and then quickly look down at her.

Ah, there it was.

She opened her mouth wide, catching the pancake in her mouth before retreating under the table to eat it.

Overhead she heard Adam talking, “I saw that.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You are such a sucker.”

Sigh, “I know.

Waffles would move back to Ramirez in a minute, but for now, she moved over to where Dr. Katie was sitting. Dr katie looked down at patted her head, “Good morning pretty girl.” Waffle’s tail thumped.

Maverick reached over to stroke her ears as well, “Best girl.”

She locked Maverick’s hand

Then she returned to Ramirez sitting on his feet and looking up at him with a pleading expression.

She was interrupted a moment later as another smell moved into the room. It was a sort of burning smell, almost like charred plastic with a hint of charcoal. She recognized that smell and poked her head out from under the table to watch the strange floating human move towards them.

Conn had scared her at first, but they understood each other quite well now.

Conn greeted her with images and feelings. Inside her head she remembered the scent of warm grass, and the sun on her back. She sighed softly at the memory and wagged her tail as he approached.

She crawled out from under the table and walked over to the strange human greeting him with a nose touch to his cold-hard skin. He reached down and patted her head with his overly long fingers, like being petted by a block of wood in the shape of a hand.

She received the image of Ramirez giving her another pancake if she tried again, and with pleasure she returned to him.

The strange floating human was never wrong about that sort of thing.

And accurately, not minutes later she was handed another one.

The new ship was full of smells, and she was happy to go around greeting them all day.

Everyone wanted to pet her, and she was happy to let them.

She went to see the marines first. They were rolling around on the ground trying to choak each other. The play fighting looked fun and she ran over to join in, barking and waiting her tail.

They broke apart making that revving noise humans tended to make when happy. She liked happy human noises and rolled onto her back so they could pet her.

Eventually she had at least six people petting her at once, and she was happy.

After saying hi to the marines, they went to go see the fluffy creatures that smelled like dear. To be honest, they sort of smelled like something she could eat, though she never would. She had smelled a Kangaroo once, and that seemed about accurate.

They looked a little bit like it too, though they never allowed her to get close enough to get a better look. She Could smell the fear on them which was a surprisingly similar smell to human fear. There were a few humans on the ship that were afraid of her too, or if not afraid nervous.

The new human, the one that smelled like chemicals and graphite, who spent a lot of time with Adam was one of those people. Waffles didn’t really like her much either if she was honest. She always smelled nervous and that made waffles nervous, Nervous and high strung people made her want to help them, but Simon didn’t like her getting too close,

It was sort of sad, she was pretty sure she could help.

After that, they went to go see the other things like Sunny. She liked being petted by them the most because each of them had four hands. She didn’t like when they fought each other though, because that didn’t look like play fighting. Adam had to put her away sometimes when he played with them because she didn’t like it when he got hit.

She could forgive the big creatures though, they were nice and gave her lots of belly rubs.

She wasn’t so sure about the new creature that spent time with Maverick. It smelled wrong, like a bug. And at home she at bugs out of the air like flies and wasps, but this bug was huge, taller than maverick, and it had wings like a butterfly. It was so different from the other creatures, that she had trouble smelling what it’s smells meant. She thought it was nervous around her, but not too nervous.

She had even allowed it to pet her once. It was strange, but she had decided it was no threat.

And then of course they went to the place that smelled very very heavily of chemicals. She had been in these places a lot. And they met one of her other favorite aliens. Adam had been very worried about her the first time she met this creature, though he shouldn’t have, he smelled like a flying cabbage, and waffles didn’t like cabbage.

The floating cabbage, Krill, floated over to them.

He looked down at her and she sniffed at him.

He was a vet, but mostly for humans, but also sometimes for her.

Waffles tentatively stepped forward and nosed the floating cabbage. Instead of backing away like he usually might, he pitted her with his thin stick arms.

“You better not be feeding her breakfast today after Ramirez slipped her pancakes. We want her to live as long as possible.”

“Yeah don’t worry, I am keeping track.”

“Good.” he patted her again and let them go.

They ran into another vet down a ways, though this one just liked to talk a lot. He had dark skin for a human and smelled pleasantly musky like damp forest bark. He reached down and rubbed her ears, “Always good to see a fellow therapy professional.” She wagged her tail.

She liked his voice, it was very deep and calming.

“Dr Adric.” Adam said.

He stood back up and the two humans looked at each other, “Haven't seen her wearing a vest in a few months now.”

Adam shrugged, “haven't needed her to work in a few months. I’ve been feeling really good, and if I have a bad day, she will be around.

Dr. Adric nodded and they were let go.

She was led back down the hall and into the popcorn room. She called it that because that's where the humans sat in the dark and watched the box with pictures on it. They liked to eat popcorn when they did that.

“What are you making us watch tonight?” Sunny said as Waffles sniffed under a pool table.

“That is for me to know and for you to find out.”

He sat down and waffles moved around the room sniffing at everything.

It was when she smelled the smell of something small and furry that she turned around glancing over to where the very strange creatures were waiting her. They were very small, smaller than her and very fluffy. They had very large eyes, and she hadn’t met them yet.

But she had smelled them.

She took a tentative step forward sniffing at them. They didn’t run away like she would expect of something that small, but eyed her. She took another step forward, her tail up and interested. They hopped forward close enough for her to smell. They smelled fluffy and sweet, but…. weird .

They moved closer, right at her feet now, and she stood surrounded by a small pack of the fluffies. They had tiny ears and little noses, kind of like puppies. She sniffed at the top of one’s head and licked it with her long pink tongue. Its hair rasped against her mouth.

I jumped back, but she followed it.

The others crowded at her feet.

She stood there confused for a moment and then lay down slowly with a grunt. Immediately one of them climbed onto her back like puppies or kittens might. She beat her tail against the ground, looking down at the one between her paws.

She licked it again, and when it didn’t move, she adjusted her paws and began to clean it, running her tongue up its brightly colored fur.

Two of them were on her back now, one of them resting against her side, and another one between her paws.

She was busy cleaning it when Adam walked over, a look on his face that he sometimes gave her, eyes wide and smiling. 

“What is going on here.”

“We have tamed your predator and are now integrating it into our clan.”

“I see…. She likes you.”

Her tial moved back and forth.

She liked the small fuzzies. Other humans began slowly to trickle in and Adam was busy with the other deciding what to see on the picture box. She was resting her chin against her paws face pressed up against one of the little fuzzy balls. The humans took their seats, and Ramirez vaulted over the couch to land on the floor where a stack of pillows had already been set up.

Adam turned around and frowned, “Marine what do you think you are doing in my spot.”

Ramirez nestled down further in the pillows, “What do you mean your spot, I don’t see your name on it.”

“I always sit there.”

“Well there is a first time for everything.”

He walked over and crossed his arms over his chest in a dominant pose to his inferior pack member, “You will move from my spot.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“I am not going to be ousted from my spot.” 

The marine just grinned, “Ok.”

“I swear marine I am not afraid to spoon you.”

The marine just grinned at him, “Would you like to be big spoon, or little spoon.”

“Bitch, I have a licence to cuddle and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“My evil plan comes together.”

Waffles watched from her distance. She wasn’t sure if this was dominance or just a social pack thing, but whatever threat Adam had made, he seemed more than willing to make good on.

“I hope you're comfortable, Ramirez.”

“Very comfortable, thank you for asking. You’re nice and warm.”

It wasn’t long after that Sunny showed up, stopping to stand over the two humans with her head cocked.

“Sorry Sunny, you cannot stop our love.” Ramirez announced 

She shook her head and stepped over them, “I wouldn't dream of it, just dont be startled when you learn about the marvin the martian tattoo on his left hip.”

Rmirez turned to look at Adam with a raised eyebrow.

Adam Pointed at him aggressively, “Do NOT read too much into that. Everyone has seen my tattoo. Do you want to see it, because I can show it to you!”

Ramirez laughed and then made a big show of resting his head back on Adam’s shoulder.

“Are you trying to get me to move by making this awkward, because you definitely can’t”

“Nope, just making myself comfortable.”

Waffles didn’t know what was happening, but got to her feet, two of the Celzex still on her back and made herself comfortable by lying down between the humans two pairs of legs. 

Adam and Ramirez both laughed.

More humans walked onto the ship.

The human named Jackie grinned, “Cuddle puddle?”

Ramirez motioned hre over, “Come join  us.”

“Sweet!” 

IT wasn’t long before waffles found herself lying amidst a pile of humans and at least two Drev on the floor.

Sunny had slid down on Adam’s other side, two of the Celzex were still on her back, and the other one had come to rest between her paws again. Jackie was to the other side of Ramirez Narobie was at their feet her head resting on Cannon’s chest, while McCaster was on his other side.

Maverick sat on the couch shaking her head at them, but with her teeth bared in a good way.

Simon sat awkwardly at the back of the room eyes wide.

A few of the new smelling humans walked in. A few of them just stared in shock and confusion. One of them in uncomfortable disgust, but one of the new humans shrugged and walked over.

“Is this like, just for old Harbinger crew members or is it open for anyone.”

The humans reached their hands up looking like a strange alien creature with many arms, “Come, Join us.”

The pile grew increasingly larger, until they lay as a carpet of humans, aliens and one dog.

Waffles thumped her tail against the ground. It was good to have the whole pack together.

It just felt right.

[voxymoxyboxy]

Scrapped Secret Santa Idea

While struggling to write for my AU drabbles, I was looking at my old writing and stumbled across this abandoned draft for the Sam and Max secret santa from last year! I read it and found that I still really liked it so I thought I would publish it on here for people to read! It’s not finished, but I do really like what I wrote. Please enjoy!

The familiar thrum of the microwave sounded through Sybil’s kitchen as she leaned against a nearby counter. Little pops began a few seconds later, the smell of butter and salt slowly, but surely, washing over her like a warm bath. Thin fingers drummed against the large plastic bowl in her hands. Rather than compose a new symphony for one- though that didn’t sound too bad for her next career-, Sybil decided to cross things off a mental list.

Comfortable pajamas pulled from the depths of a bottom drawer? Check.

Snacks? Enough to feel like utter garbage come morning.

Fluffy blanket? Spread on the couch just waiting to be wrecked by her guest.

Speaking of her guest… Sybil checked her watch. It was almost eight o’clock, the time when their little girl’s night was supposed to start. Supposed to, because Max wasn’t exactly known for his punctuality. The woman sighed. If she had to guess, the lagomorph would burst through her front door at about nine, a full hour late, wide smile on-

A knock on the door startled Sybil from her thoughts. The bowl clattered to the floor, but the women kicked it aside as she made her way through the living room. Whoever was waiting outside stopped for a second, only to be begin spamming the doorbell instead. Sybil quickened her steps.

“I’m coming!” she shouted. “Just give me a second!” The ringing continued, much to the woman’s dismay.

“Sybil!” a high-pitched voice called through the wood. “What you say in the bedroom’s none o’ my business!” Nearly banging her arm against the doorknob in her hurry, Sybil threw open the door to find Max, wide teasing smirk on his face clothed in nothing more than a flimsy scarf. His hands were clasped behind his back and he rocked back and forth on his heels.

The woman rubbed the bridge of her nose but returned the lagomorph’s smile. “Good to see you Max.” She stepped to the side to let him in. “Come on in.”

Max strutted inside, a bag the woman hadn’t noticed until then clutched in his paws. Sybil raised a brow when, instead of just dumping it on her carpet, the lagomorph gently placed the bag under the coffee table. Free from potential harm and the crumb zone, the woman noted. He jumped on the couch, already making himself at home by wrapping himself up in Sybil’s blanket like stuffing in a burrito.

“So.” The lagomorph eyed the snacks on the coffee table. The woman watched as Max snatched the largest chip bag of the bunch. Ripping it open, Max dug out a handful of salty goodness and stuffed it all in his mouth. “Where’s the kid?” he asked, crumbs spraying everywhere from talking with his mouth full.

Sybil grimaced. Tomorrow would be a clean-up day for sure. “I left Penny with a good friend of mine from work.”

“What is it this time? Graphic designer?” Max picked at his teeth. “Toy making? No!” He snapped his fingers. “Mall Santa!”

“Elf, actually.” Sybil said, making her way back towards the kitchen. “Hired me on the spot after finding out I’m a mother.”

“Must be desperate to avoid any lawsuits this year.” Max commented and dumped the rest of the bag down his gaping maw. “Probably don’t wanna lose another Santa.”

“Lose another Santa?” the woman parroted, confusion plain in her voice. “I don’t remember hearing anything about a Santa being arrested last year.” Max flattened out his blanket nest so his arms were now free to move about. He grabbed a soda and popped it open.

“Whaddaya mean?” The lagomorph took a small sip before continuing. “You were there! I kidnapped you that mornin’ to help me get a present fer Sam! Near ‘bout had a heart attack when he burst in and handcuffed the bastard.” He traced the rim of the can, ears drooping a bit before shooting right back up. “Right?”

Sybil had to tread carefully.

“The popcorn’s done. Why don’t you get it while I turn on the tv?” Max was silent for a beat. While subtle, she could see his jaw tighten, grin turning forced. The grip on his soda tightened, leaving tiny dents in the aluminum. And yet, just as quickly, Max was bouncing back. Literally, as he’d jumped to his feet.

“You actually trust me to go within six feet of yer microwave?” the lagomorph said. He brushed away an imaginary tear. “I’m touched!”

“Get going before I regret my decision.”

“You probably should.”

“Go.” The woman chuckled, playfully shoving him towards the kitchen archway. Max ‘harumphed’ and left the room. Sybil rolled her eyes. It was all just for show. The guy was a drama queen through and through. What had caught her eye were the muscles in Max’s shoulders. The habit leftover from her old job as a masseuse proved to be useful, for they were tense, almost like the lagomorph was preparing to fight.

Or flee.

Sybil reached over the side of the couch and pulled out the remote. After finding the device in Penny’s mouth one too many times, she’d decided to buy one of those stupid arm slings to hold it. Admittedly, it worked pretty well. She flicked the tv on, muting it before leaning to get comfortable. Flipping through channels, the woman looked for the right one. No, no, uggh, ah-ha! Now she could really get settled in.

Before she could really hunker down, Max slid in front of the flat screen. His back faced Sybil, pristine white fur now covered by a long-sleeved purple pajama shirt, both sleeves and matching pants rolled up. Bowl held over his head, he leaped back onto soft cushions, stray pieces flying to hit Sybil’s arm and leg. Her gaze traveled over Max and she stifled laughter with a hand as she saw what was hovering over his chest.

“Merry Christmas, Ho, Ho Hoes?” she read, giggles bursting through her fingertips. For the first time that night, Max’s smile turned genuine. The lagomorph puffed his chest out, pride radiating off his person.

“Jealous?” he nearly purred.

“Hardly.”

“Green doesn’t become you, Sybil.” Max sing-songed.

Said woman gasped. “I’ll have you know it brings out my eyes!”

“Whatever helps ya sleep at night!” Max shot back.

The two started at each other for a moment before bursting into hearty laughter. Some of the tension from before ebbed away as they clutched their quickly hurting middles. Wiping away small tears, she glanced over at her friend. A weight Sybil hadn’t known about lifted from her shoulders as the rabbit devolved into giggles, stray pieces of popcorn flying everywhere.

“You know,” Sybil scootched back to her side of the sofa, "I was wondering.”

“Bout what?” Max tossed a kernel and caught it with a loud crunch.

Sybil gestured towards the television. “Why Hallmark movies?” She tucked her legs under her. “I thought you hated those.”

Max froze, caught off-guard by the woman’s question. He recovered fast, face blank as his attention turned to the movie. The woman on the screen- the heroine, Sybil assumed- walked under a garden arch adorned with Christmas lights. A man followed close behind, a look of complete adoration gracing his features. Slowly, he plopped the dish onto the middle cushion.

“Yeah,” he brought his knees to his chest, “I do.”

“Then why…?”

Max buried himself in Sybil’s blanket. He placed his chin on his knees. “How long’ve we known each other, Sybil?”

Sybil tilted her head quizzically. “About two or three years now, I think.” She paused. “Why?”

Snow began falling in the movie. The woman laughed and pulled the man towards a tackily-decorated gazebo. He followed without fail, lips flapping as he probably spouted cheesy dialogue.

“It’s funny, ‘s all.” Max said, sad little smile on his muzzle. Sybil had a feeling he didn’t really mean it. “From what I remember, it’s been at least five. But then again,” the lagomorph tapped his head, “Never did have the best memory.”

“Don’t sell yourself short Max.” Sybil scooted closer and lightly placed a hand over Max’s. He flinched but didn’t move to rip the limb off. She took it as a good sign, welling with pride as she squeezed the paw. “You’re smarter than you think. But that’s not the real issue here, is it?”

“Dunno. You tell me Miss Psychotherapist.” The rabbit tried to crack a joke, but the woman wasn’t having it.

“Max.” she said, slightly increasing the pressure on his hand. By now the soon-to-be couple were sitting on a bench found in their temporary shelter, shoulders brushing while they talked. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. But know, as your friend, I’m here for you.”

Max tossed the words around in his head. He pulled his hand from Sybil’s and grabbed a mug from the table, whipped cream already melted into the warm cocoa. Holding it with both paws, the lagomorph took a deep breath.

“It happened a few years. You n’me were just fuckin’ around at one of our movie nights.” His grip tightened around the porcelain handle. “Landed on the channel and had the crappy idea to mute it and write our own story.” Patiently the woman waited as Max took another swig.

“Was so stupid.” the rabbit mumbled, corners of his mouth pulling up just so. “But fun. Were laughin’ our asses off by the end of the night. When I was ‘bout to leave, you suggested we do it every year and-“

“You wanted to keep the tradition going.” Sybil finished, voice wrought with understanding.

Max sent his friend a look, mouth shutting with a clack. “Somethin’ like that.” The rabbit’s gaze wandered back to the film, pang in his chest at the woman and man twining their fingers together. “Guess I just wanted something familiar in m’life.” he confessed.

Sybil peered at her friend intently. “…Have you told Sam?”

“Hell no!” Max said. “He’s the last one I wanna tell!”

“Is something going on between you two?”

“No.” he lied, thumb running over the edge of Sybil’s mug.

“Did he do anything? Because I know the guy can be dense sometimes-”

The lagomorph shook his head. “Yer readin’ too much int’ it Sybil.”

The heroine and hero were staring at each now, the camera rotating around the outside of the gazebo in a way that had to make some people sick.

“…Has he been distant lately?” Sybil tried, sadness clawing at her throat when Max’s ears pinned against his skull. “Do you know why?”

Max bit the inside of his cheek. “No. But what I do know,” the rabbit hugged the mug closer, “is that he’s been weird round me. It’s like…” he tugged at his pajama sleeves, racking his brain for the right words, “guy’s always on edge. Just yesterday me and Sam were caught n’ the middle of a few mafia goons.”

“Tis the season.” Sybil chimes in, prompting a snort from her friend.

“Bullets are flyin’ everywhere, the smell of gun smoke heavy in the air. I take two of ‘em down no prob but then,” Max furrows his brows, “then Sam just freezes up. Had ta save his sorry ass and off the rest myself. When I asked what happened, he tried to play it off like it was no big deal!”

“How long’s this been going on?”

“Not too long after we started dating.” The lagomorph sighed. At that moment, the man pointed out a sprig of mistletoe hung on the ceiling. Trapped like rats, the two hesitate but for a beat before kissing. “Makes me feel like, like-”

“You’re the problem.” 

Max pouted. “Stop that!”

Sybil chuckled. “Sorry. Force of habit. Still.” She placed a hand on Max’s shoulder. “You should tell him. You two may be terrible at talking about anything emotional, but Sam appreciates honesty.” The woman squeezed it and slid back to her claimed space. “He’ll listen. You’ve just gotta trap him somehow.”

[taeguboi]

BTS HC - Lockdown

In which each BTS member lives with y/n

I’m hoping these imagines might lighten the mood for anyone who might be feeling a bit lonely right now.

Please see the end of post first if you need some context or wish to see the notes

RM

Has good balance of me time and us time

steps back when you both need space

sitting in the back yard on some chair reading a book

taking in the sun

The restrictions don’t hinder him from making sure you both get plenty of sun and fresh air

it isn’t much but in week 1, he gave the back yard a little tidy up

turned it into a place to chill out

so there aren’t any flower planted or decor

but it makes all the difference

there’s chairs, a table and a parasol

to you, this is perfect

Spot of tea under cooler weather

or orange juice under the sun

Board games at the table in the back yard

you tried cards once out there but even just the slightest breeze...

“Goddammit!!!”

The card games are for when it rains

or for when neither of you quite feel like going out today

He swears you’re cheating at UNO

you swear he’s just really bad at it

turns out he keeps saving those wild 4 draw cards too long

which you gather over his last 3 rage quits 

because he just slings the cards, revealing them to you

“You play it too safe” you tell him

so he plays it a bit less safe

“Yes! Finally I won!”

“OH! Look at that!” you smile

he smiles back because of how proud you...

“...it’s sunny again!”

‘Goddammit y/n...’

Shopping trips together

not so helpful when the rules get stricter

“One adult at a time please...”

oh dear

who goes in?

so you go in

“Crap! Namjoon has the shopping list!”

this period of time really shows how you complete each other

pretty much every day you each think

“what would I do without him/her?”

Random talks

he tells you about this one book he read

and now you want to read it

so you do

and you can’t take your eyes off it

you find a new love for reading

so sometimes when you both need me time

you remain in the same room, just reading a book each

Every day you feel enlightened

almost sad at the thought of going back to normal life

because you won’t have as much time for yourself

Jin

Everyone is suddenly having the time to cook from scratch

imagine Jin’s frustration since he did this all along

so when certain things he usually gets aren’t in stock

“Oh for crying out loud!”

you sometimes have to calm him down when shopping

and since only 1 adult in at a time it’s like a really awkward phone call

you’re just stood outside alone like

“For Christ’s sake Jin! Calm down!”

but he makes every meal taste great anyway

“Sorry it doesn’t have the usual...”

“Jin, please!” you reply

because it’s still really yummy because

“you’re still the best cook in the world, okay?”

“Okay fine...” he sighs “Thank you”

can I just add here food is the only time you both get hysterical at each other

He still low key hoard particular ingredients when he FINALLY can get them

and you have to explain how irrational he’s being

“We don’t need SIX tubes of tomato puree!”

“Jin... How are we going to use up all THIS fruit and veg before it goes off?”

But he’s not selfish, no

if he’s in a shop and sees someone elderly, he helps them out

“Would you like me to reach that for you?”

“Do you need any toilet paper? There’s 2 packs left - here”

“Here’s my number; let me know if you need me to run any errands for you”

ahh you’re lucky to be living with such a gentleman

Daily walks in the park to feed the ducks

“This is the best kind of exercise” he tells you “...relaxed and where you can connect with nature”

some of the ducks at the beginning of the lockdown are a bit nutty

Jin may or may not be low key scared of that one goose

“I swear it’s giving me the evils”

it may or may not have chased him the second day in

“Wahhhhhh!!!”

*Jin running away in the distance*

You cooked for him that evening

“Honey, I don’t know how to put this...”

“Aw sweetie it’s okay about what happened in the park; I mean you were the one holding the bread and...”

“oh no no” he replies. “this meal is awful”

r00d

but it’s okay

you knew the minute you offered to make dinner it wasn’t going to turn out well

so you both agree the kitchen will be his space to work his magic in during lockdown

and he somehow gets better than he already is at cooking

just woowwww

foodgasm

but neither of you get podgy

Lazy exercises together

chair exercises watching the tv

small periods of jogging in the woods

“oh wow, what’s that?”

you come across some random squirrel

and all of a sudden trips to the park for that daily walk 

it turns into a nature watch

bird watching

luckily he forgets about the angry goose

Sometimes talking about what you miss

and then promising to do all of those things when everything is back to normal

so many plans

and it helps you both stay optimistic

because you just created a bunch of stuff to look forward to

Suga

Late night movie marathons

and accidentally getting into a routine of late mornings late nights

Cooking together

because neither of you want to do it

but someone has to

can’t live on instant food for all this time

Night time walks

less people, less danger

please don’t yell at me if we’re not supposed to do this in real life I haven’t actually been out that late during lockdown hahaha

it’s only around a few blocks

but deep talks, you know

There may not be much room in the back garden

but you have a ball and a hoop

basketball together

he teaches you to shoot better

“yes! I did it!”

*he hugs you from behind*

sorry that was gay

He’s actually quite chill about the whole lockdown situation

almost like he forgets the circumstances sometimes

“I think I might nip down to _____’s house today...”

“Uh, Yoongi, remember?”

“Oh yeah”

Detective series marathons too

the two of you trying to figure out whodunnit

sometimes even low key bets or light arguments if you disagree

a mildly sore loser when you’re correct

smug af when he is correct

Evenings lounging in the back yard with the drink of your choice

some quiet music on 

random hypothetical conversations and questions about life

“what if...”

“what happened to...”

“don’t you think that cloud looks like a goldfish?”

Board games that keep the brain stimulated

why is he so good at scrabble

you can’t recall a game you’ve won

but no monopoly

not after the last time

“I want a divorce!”

“We’re not married”

“Yet”

tbf you might as well be an old married couple

because there’s those films you just watch over and over

close to unlocking the power of mind reading

“want a cup of tea?”

“omg I was about to ask that”

Some days you get on each other’s nerves a little though

so you each occupy yourselves with little chores

and even though you weren’t in the mood to do anything together

you’ve just made the house look great in a day as a team

and you’ve got everything you need just in time for dinner

“I’m proud of us”

“I’m proud of us too”

J-Hope

Picnics in the back garden

much better than one in the park though

there’s no packing involved

there’s cushions

sometimes low key fine dining

your favourite is the one evening picnic the other day

you had been shopping alone for the essentials

and he wanted to surprise you

he had set up a makeshift table out of a few old crates

did the cooking

the pasta dish was lovely

there was even dessert

okay the dessert was M&S

fairy lights

seriously you swear you weren’t out for that long how did he manage all of this so fast?

wine

staring at the stars

and there were blankets too

dozing off until early hours of the morning

finally coming indoors at like 2am

sleeping in til noon oops haha

then binge watching some random show together 

and now it’s your new favourite

For some reason you have a big stock of popcorn

watching any old crap on the TV as an excuse to eat it

like there’s 3 films on this afternoon that sound shite

but you’re going to watch them all anyway

and the third one is actually really good

more popcorn more films

“we should probably go out at some point...”

whoops it’s been like 4 days now

and now it’s raining damn

fuck it, you go out anyway

dancing in the rain in an empty park

followed by shivering on the walk home

he gets in the shower first

but then runs a lovely hot bath for you

candles, bubble bath, the works

just so you can have some relaxing time to yourself

so thoughtful

lockdown doesn’t mean needing to compromise on showing you love each other

Jimin

You’re not quite sure how you got pulled into this

but Jimin decided to make use of his YouTube following

Virtual dance classes

and fun little exercise sessions for all the family

He does the dance classes solo

but he loves to flaunt you to the world even in lockdown

“Today joining me for this session... my lovely significant other, y/n!”

at first you felt uncertain and a little conscious

but thanks to Jimin your confidence grew

He helps you stay positive during a tough time

and you even feel like your self improvement has been going amazingly well

he even inspires you to make your own channel

to show the world what you love; [insert hobby/interest here]

people love the both of you

they go to Jimin’s channel to keep fit and happy

and your channel just fills them with joy

But not everything revolves around the virtual world

Care packages for all of your friends

food and other essentials get mailed to the ones that lost their jobs

and for the ones still working, a bundle of stuff for their mental well being

and a little drawing with rainbow colours in each

and a positive message

Woolly jumpers, cushions and hot chocolate

sweater paws

Sometimes in the evening you doze off

like you fall asleep just as you are

and you wake up to the smell of food and a blanket over you

Sometimes you miss your friends

and Jimin hates to see you down

so he organises a big surprise

his hands over your eyes as he walks you into the living room

“surprise!” you hear over the laptop

and then Jimin hands you some gifts 

he asked them all a few days ago to send you something meaningful

and your heart just melts

and you may or may not cry a little in front of your friends on the video call

you just have to do something in return so

You make the living room all nice whilst he’s making a video in the garden

wow you’re actually quite proud

the lighting is just right

the improv decor is actually somewhat aesthetic

“Honey, why’s it so dull in here..... Woah, what’s this?”

“Dinner’s ready” you smile

and you have a gift for him too

you can’t wipe the smile off his face when he sees it

a scrapbook of memories between you and him

which you look through after eating

“We’re going to make more memories like this once this blows over”

V

Lots of online socialising

Calls with his friends 

which you always end up being a part of in the background with your commentaries

Cute online double dates with Jimin and/or your best friend

Will try everything and anything to kill the boredom

“look what I found in the bargain bin at the supermarket!”

“Tae, I’m not really sure I’m in the mood to take up crocheting...”

but actually it turns out to be more fun that you thought

he has his little ways of making everything fun

one day you guys just find some random paints in a cupboard

and WOW

he’s so good at it

such beautiful landscapes

Makes sure that you both maintain some sort of routine

“best make sure we have an early night lovely”

“why? it’s not like there’s much to do tomorrow”

but no matter how sceptical you may be at times

he’s determined to be your sunshine

he helps you stay sane

makes everything sound productive

“because tomorrow we are going to make a playlist for when we walk, feed the ducks, go shopping, learn how to make a new dish...”

makes you a cup of tea just because

or breakfast in bed

the perfect companion

caring about even the people he can’t physically be with

“we haven’t heard from _____ in a while; we should drop a phone call or something”

but it isn’t just a phone call

it’s also a letter in the mail a few days later

plus a painting for the close friends

Dressing up really formal for a home date

3 course meal, courtesy of the microwave

then a slow dance in the living room

always the romantic

“tonight was amazing... will I see you again?”

“you are terrible Tae, you really are!”

such a joker

he keeps you smiling through it all

Jungkook

Tries to get you to go on daily jogs with him

“Can’t I just walk?”

“Come on, y/n; get those endorphins running through you!”

you try like once

*wheezing*

nope

Nintendo switch

Not that I have one welp

I can just imagine it okay

Lots of active games

thrashes you at Wii Sports Tennis

but you whoop his ass at Bowling

he does most of the shopping

so that he can go for a jog first

and also so he’s not out too often in any one day, two birds one stone and all that

Doesn’t quite always get the shopping list right….

“Jungkook?”

“Yes?”

“I wrote 1-2 bananas… You’ve brought back 12”

blames your handwriting

Small bits of banter like this keep you both sane

and he eats all those bananas in like 2 days

“What? There was no cereal in the shop”

someone teach this boy to cook please

*brings back like a crate load of instant noodles*

at least it means you’ve come up with something to pass the time

teaching Jungkook some basic meals

maybe beginning with breakfast first thing in the morning wasn’t the best idea

“Jungkook! I said keep an eye on it!”

“I did”

and he literally just watched the bacon burn instead of regularly flipping it over

bless

Singing to you whilst snuggling on the couch

bliss

meme-y dances before bed time

like you’ll be sat in bed maybe watching tv / reading

and something moves in the corner of your eye

oh my word Jungkook

*insert all the meme-y dances you have even seen him do*

the biggest dork

can’t stop laughing at his own silliness afterwards

jumps into the bed and puts his head on your shoulder

falls asleep like this quite fast

well you aren’t surprised since he’s always so energetic

Small campfires in the back garden

the best marshmallows you’ve ever had

and it’s so much fun

campfire stories

usually people have a guitar around the fire

not Jungkook though, no

*serenades you with a ukulele purposely singing out of tune*

has you in stitches

people in the neighbouring houses hear the laughter and some think it’s insensitive to be laughing so much

but seriously, if you can’t laugh, what can you do?

So I thought I’d make a post around the strange times many of us are living in. Whilst I get that some readers may not be in a situation like mine (UK) so a quick bit of context for you even though I made the location / country ambiguous in my writing. The circumstances explained in the imagines though are of course based on my experiences in England.

Right now, we are limited in what we do; only essential shops are open, (supermarkets, pharmacies, etc,) the country is being advised to go out as little as possible, (only for food shopping, medical reasons and exercise,) social gatherings aren’t allowed, our death rate has been increasing due to the virus (even our prime minister has it,) and our NHS is overwhelmed - currently more than 10,000 being treated as I’m listening to the news and writing this note. 

I hope everyone is staying safe and doing the right thing by staying indoors and maintaining social distancing.

[likesomekindofcheese]

Will You Accept This Rose? Chapter Two (Queen/Beatles Bachelorette AU!)

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: some drinking and cursing, but pretty light I think

Episode Two! A first Impression Rose is chosen! And so is the first one on one and group date, but the course of true love never did run smooth. And the drama is just beginning!

A/N: So who should stay? Who should leave? What should the next date be? How can drama be stirred in this pot? Suggest to me in the comments! After all, you ARE our Bachelorette! Any angsty drama ideas you would like to see as well? Also note, since I updated this fic things have...happened. Should I just replace Chris with someone else? What do you think? Would anyone be upset if I kept Chris Harrison as the host?

Also, shout out to actual legend and date idea goddess @freddiesaysalright​

“I have met quite a few gentlemen today, so this decision is hard. You are all so wonderful…” you pick up the rose, turning it coyly. The other men stand straight, but you can hear the palpitations of their hearts as your own pulse races in tandem. “Deaky…” you turn to him “you're so sweet, and showing me your family and your determination to move on shows so much strength…” Your eyes settle on Ringo for a moment. ------------------------------------------------------------------- Jim huffed “just announce it already!” Miko sat on his lap and began to knead his pants, tiny claws digging into his skin. Not that he minded. Not on Bachelorette night.

“I loved dancing with you, it made me so happy…” Roger’s golden head then flashes off of your eye. “Roger, that was an incredible entrance-I’m still reeling from it! But if I have to choose…I have to go with my gut on this one…” You turn to Brian. He blinks rapidly and looks around, realizing that it’s him. “Brian, will you accept this rose?” Smiling beautifully, he nods, letting out a breathy “yes!” before hugging you with his long, lean body. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Freddie let out a humph before he looked down at his empty popcorn bowl “Hmmm, that was a tough one! I thought she’d never choose! Good for Brian, though!” “I had a feeling it would be him,” Jim shrugged. “That’s what I read on Reality Steve…” “Why didn’t you say anything!” “You hate spoilers!” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The men dismiss each other, many of them giving you a hug or a slight kiss on the side of your head goodnight. Martha even waddles up to you. “Martha, shake!” Paul ordered. She extends her paw and you accept it, not caring for a bit of grime on your manicured hands. “Sleep well, Paul…” “I definitely will!” he added with a cute wink. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As a week passed, Garden Lodge hummed into normalcy. There was a bit of talk about the episode. By Monday evening, people were done with normalcy. With vegetables and bread. They wanted champagne and cake. They wanted indulgence. They wanted a romance that would sweep their emotions to highs and lows without having to think of their own lives. And so, getting out their ice cream, Jim turned on the television. “Ah, another Tuesday. I love waiting, gives ya something to look forward too-none of the binging!” “Darling, we could binge all the other seasons this summer-shouldn’t we!” “Let’s catch up with the new one, first!” Jim says, popping out the champagne. “Cheers!” he said, he clinked his ice cream bowl with Fred’s.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That next morning, the men sat semi-sleepily around the room. Many blinking their eyes with sleep. John was sipping his coffee, scribbling away in a journal. Brian looked half-dead, his curls in a messy mane but the proud half-smile hidden beneath his hair was undeniable. Paul rubbed the sand out of his eyes and straightened his back as he sat. The others sighed in deeply, tapping their feet or rubbing their hands. Many of them were dressed in the first jeans and shirt they could throw on. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Darling, you’re on television, at least take the time to look decent!” -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Finally, there came a ring on the doorbell, which caused them to jump. “I’ll get it,” Paul volunteered. He returned with two cream envelopes, much to the mixed anxiety and excitement of the other men. “What is it?” Roger asked. “Read it! Now!” Paul carefully undid the label and pulled out the first card. “Roger, Deaky, Ringo, John, Paul, Brian…” He flipped it over. “In order to find love, you have to search for it. Love, Y/N.” The others sighed deeply. A few eyes turned to George. His smile grew devilish knowing what that meant. The other card was opened and Paul read out loud: “George…” He let out a sharp exhale that was half a laugh. “It’s showtime, Love Y/N.” The others looked around in curiosity. “It’s showtime, what on earth could that mean?” Ringo asked, crossing his arms. “It means there will be time, and a show!” the recipient said with a cheeky wiggle of his eyebrows. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- George walked up to the location, thrilled for having the first one on one date. His driver took him to a movie theater, large and almost retro seeming with neon colors in the lights. But there you were, in a nice shirt and jeans and a jacket. “Hello George!” you greeted arms coyly behind your back. “Hey Y/N!” He walked over and hugged you, squeezing you tight. He was soft and warm, it felt like you were hugging a Scouse talking teddy bear. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “They at least have a bit of chemistry!” Jim commented, finishing the last of his ice cream. Noticing that it was now pure cream with nothing else that would sicken them, he let it on the floor for Delilah to lick up. --------------------------------------------------------------------- “So are we seeing a movie today?” he asked, looking up. “Yup! But not just any move-this one was moving seats!” “What! Then what are we waiting for!?” he asked with a laugh. Gathering as many snacks as he could, both of you settled into your seats. A smiling attendant buckled you both in. George happily shared his large box of popcorn with you. “Aren’t you scared of being sick?” you teased. “It’s movie popcorn, Y/N. That’s the special kind! It’ll be worth it! Oh and these-chocolate crunch!” “Chocolate crunch, that's the best kind of movie candy!” “You think so? What about these lads?” He pulled out a bag of M and M’s. “Pure delicacies, these uns-you’ll ‘ave to stop me from eating it all during the trailers!” he said. As the movie began, the seats whirred up to life. As the movie began, it seemed calm. Like a regular movie. You heard George crunching on his popcorn. He looked over at you and shared his gladly. Your hands were slippery with the butter. There were a couple of scenes where the chairs moved some and you both laughed at that. Then it calmed down, consisting of people talking quietly. “Ey, Y/N-you have the bucket?” “Yes, I do!” “Toss it!” “What?” “Toss the popcorn into me mouth!!” ------------------------------------------------------- “Oh, are we in school darling? You’re not a seal!” --------------------------------------------------- Giggling, you took a kernel. It smacked George in the nose, his jaw clamped to get it. “Let’s try again!” This time, it landed completely in his mouth. You both cheered ad clapped loudly, ignoring the bland dialogue waiting for another car chase. But as the chase began, your seats went into action, lifting up as a character jumped, turning right and left quickly, and circling around. You even applauded at the movement. By the time the credits rolled, you both were out of breath and laughing. George walked out, surprised that his eyes did not have to adjust to the brightness of day as it became evening. Both of you walked outside for a bit before returning back home to the mansion, letting hours pass and your own jeans traded for a form-fitting green dress. George waited for you at the bottom of the stairs in a nice suit. “They’ve got dinner for us-got some room?” you asked. “For dinner? Always!” ------------------------------------------ “Does he never gain a pound? Popcorn fills your stomach full!” Jim shook his head before he poured some whiskey to warm up after the ice cream. -------------------------------------------------------- Both of you got into the limo, making your way out to a nice restaurant. It had tall, pale walls with long, creamy curtains hanging down. Italian food was served with wine so clear it looked like water until you smelled it and had a sip. “Okay George, what moves do you like?” He began to cut up his meatball. “I enjoyed Citizen Kane-“ “Really!” “Yes! Not too boring isn’t it? Like saying Mozart’s your favorite composer or whatever!” he questioned his hands in front of him. “No! What else?” you asked, delicately wiping your lips with your napkin before returning it to your lap. “I love Monty Python’s stuff. Oh god, The Holy Grail, Life of Brian? Masterpieces! Was on the floor the first time I saw em! What about you?” he gushed, his dark eyes large with excitement. You discuss movies, what you saw, what made you laugh, and what made you cry and feel things for a good hour. Who knew how much would be broadcasted? But you didn’t care. You knew how it worked. The drama would arrive. But for now, you wanted to have fun. “What about growing up? Did they…did they mean anything to you? Seeing movies and shows and stuff? I was addicted as a kid…” you started. “They meant a lot. I mean, I love the food, of course, but…things were sometimes tough at home. Only one coal for a cold winter’s day. Things were hard, but me parents loved me, and me siblings. Movies were a place to forget all of that. That and music. Movies made me escape, music made me feel, made me laugh or cry or get it out. Anything to forget about school or things for a bit.” Nodding your head, you told him about your own childhood. He nodded and listened attentively. “Well, George…you’ve told me so much already so…” There was a tall rosebud placed on the platter. It sat there for at least a good hour. George at first was eyeing it nervously, but his eyes stayed on you the darker it got outside and the more you talked. Reaching over, you saw him grin genuinely, not hiding any bit of happiness. “George, will you accept this rose?” you asked, pointing the bloom in his direction. “I will, can I hug you?” “Yes!” He reached over and hugged you. “Can I…can I kiss your cheek?” “…yes…” It was soft and though you smelled a bit of garlic from his breath, it was a sweet peck. He felt soft and you felt his lips curve into a smile. ---------------------------------------------------------------- “I should have known, they always kiss too soon!” Jim laughed. “But it’s love, darling! What if it’s love-then you have to kiss!” “I didn’t know it was love when I met you, what was the first thing I told you!” “Oh yes, that word that begins with f and rhymes with duck!” he joked with a laugh, kissing Jim’s cheek. ------------------------------------------------------------------ “I have one question though…” “Yes?” WAsn’t it soon for marriage? No way he would propose already! You held your breath. “When’s dessert?!?” he asked. Grinning, you then asked for a plate of tiramisu to share.

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

As the gentlemen all get together, they are brought to a garden. It’s scenic and beautiful. Only George is left at home. Though as you walk with them, they surround you, trying to find small excuses to the talk-the wind, the sun, breakfast, the news. Chris Harrison walks out. You arrive in a summery shirt and shorts-comfortable, but cute. Smiling at them. “Hey y/n!!!” they all chirrup, but Chris walks forward, rubbing his hands together. “Good afternoon gentlemen! Are you ready for your first group date! We are here because not only is this a garden this…” he waves dramatically “is a labyrinth! And you must find your way out! The three who manage to get their way out will have extra time with our Bachelorette!” Gliding forward like a bird, you went to Chris’s side. The men eyed the labyrinth and then you with nervous excitement. “Aaaaaand….go!!!” you announce, waving your hands. They run in, and walking with Chris, you go to the side near a lovely Venus statue surrounded by Hydrangeas. There are several tv screens monitoring the inside of the maze. The men run about like squirrels ina park, desperately hunting for something. “Ahhh! Where is it? Should we turn left?” Roger asked Brian. “We just turned left!” “They all look the same!” he said with an added falsetto yelp that made birds flee from trees. “Well, this is entertaining!” Fred commented. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- At your desk, you are holding your cool trying not to die laughing from them, but you can’t help yourself. The camera set around shows that the team with John, Brian, and Ringo are well on their way to your spot while the other three are still struggling, all spatting over what’s the right way. Making your way to one spot, you stand in a corner, prepped and ready. Paul arrives at the little green area to find you. “Hells!” you say coyly. “Hello Y/N! Y/N!” they all shout. Paul takes your hand, squeezing it. His cheeks are flushed pink and his hair is messy from the wind. “Am I doin’ alright?” he asks. You nod your head and he lets out a cheer. “You will soon see a little meadow in the center with boxes, choose the right one and you will attend the cocktail party with me.” You instruct. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Just his luck!” Jim complains, taking away the bowl. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Energy renewed, he hurries forward. But as the cameras zoom in, they find that though they reached the clearing, the other group just entered through. “What! What’re you lot doing here?” Roger asks angrily. “What’re you doing here!?” Paul asks incredulously. John only shrugs, “Just found a shortcut, is all.” Deaky walks forward, inspecting the boxes. But he finds various office supplies. Computer mice, staplers, tape, sticky notes, and pens. “Lads, listen to this…” Paul warns, pointing to a sign with a riddle written on it. He reads it out loud: With pointed fangs I sit and wait; with piercing force I crunch out fate; grabbing victims, proclaiming might; physically joining with a single bite. What am I?” For a while, all is quiet, they are not sure what to do. Suddenly Ringo, Brian, John, and Deaky lift up their heads. They yell at once: “The stapler!” At once they ran up, slamming the button. A door swung open, revealing you on the other side laughing and clapping as Ringo, John, and Deaky make their way through. Brian slows down before his stride. He smiles sadly, knowing that rosebud is in his room but that tonight won’t have another extra minute of you. Hugging the boys and high-fiving them, Chris merely folds his hands with his calm, slightly mischievous smile. “Congrats!!! You got it!!!! So this group will go to a special cocktail party…and the rose ceremony…” Chris announced. They cheer and hug you, though the other party huffs, looking on in envy.

The evening falls. There is a slight quiet except for the sounds of a few birds in the distance. In a nice, sparkly dress, you greet the men: John, Ringo, and Deaky, hugging them tightly. “So John, you’re from Liverpool…” you asked. “Yes, I and all the lads are-“ “Oh! And you met each other doing- doing music, right?” “Yes, we did! I needed music it was, well, Ringo can agree it was in our blood, it was.” He nodded, getting his first glass of chardonnay. “Can I steal you, so we can talk some more?” “Of course!” Walking around in the garden, roses bloomed. Their fragrance barely tickled your nose. “Y/N, thanks for this…look at these? Aren’t they lovely!?” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Must be rigged! If you see flowers or fireworks, it’s rigged for you!” Jim says, shaking his head. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “They’re very lovely! So…were you always writing songs? Playing guitar?” “In secret, me uncle taught me…but he died. And me mum encouraged that and…well, she died too.” “Oh John…” “It’s alright,” “ut still!” “Yeah…but still…I want to think I’m strong. That I’m better….” “Grief always hurts, though…” “Well I had me music, I always have it…and me drawings!” He pulled out a notepad. “Oh, let me see them! Please!” you insist. Time passes as you see his personal drawings before Ringo steps up and steals you away. John sits there, staring sadly but with a bit of intensity. He sighs and closes his notepad, returning it to his pocket. “How are you, me dear!” he asks in his deep voice, he pulls your hand to his large, soft lips and kisses your knuckles. “I’m…I’m very good!” you answer, flustered already by the affection. “Ere, let’s sit!” he offers, seeing the blue seats right by the fire pit. “Good! So are you tired?” you ask. You swirl around your wine glass to inspect the inside for a bit. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “For a cocktail party, they only drink wine, darling!” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Woo! All that runnin’! I would run around on stage to keep up me energy! I still have a bit in me toes-see!” He wiggled his toes and his shoes moved with them. “I have some in mine too!” You wiggled yours in tandem. Both of you giggling like idiots. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Bloody hell!” Jim cursed, groaning as he leaned back on the couch. “I can’t believe she actually likes that! What is that boy-five?! That’s not the way to woo someone!” Freddie insisted, hands flailing in front of the tv screen. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ As you finished chatting, you saw Deaky was only sipping his drink quietly. As he breathed in deep, he approached you. “So Y/N, what kind of music do you like?” he asked. “Oh me, I really love rock..” Both of you began walking as the other two sat on the couches to talk. You and Deaky came across a little clearing. There was a pavement floor and the high, grassy walls of the labyrinth from the afternoon. “You can’t go wrong with rock. But I’m fond of some soul stuff and…and disco!” he gushed. “Disco?” “Yes, disco! Have you ever been dancing, Y/N?” he asked, tilting his head. “Me? It’s been a while!” you confess. “Well, imagine we’re at a disco party-you have on some platform shoes….” You show him the ankle of the heels you have on for tonight “These heels might as well be platforms!” “Well then, let’s practice then!” He then dances with you lightly, humming an Earth, Wind, and Fire song, moving your hands in tandem as you sway in tune and then shake. “Dah nah nuh-like that!” Both of you giggle. He then blushes, hiding part of his face in his hands. “Oh-I’m sorry! It’s a different side of me-and Brian and Rog don’t like disco-like me…” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Because they’re idiots! Disco is amazing!” Freddie blurted to the oblivious reality stars. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Deaky! No need to apologize-it’s what makes you happy!” He smiled sweetly and you smiled back. You led him back, to where the four of you saw in front of a table, taking the last of your drinks. A platter of cheese and crackers was passed around that everyone nibbled on. Then there was a white plate with only one rose you hadn’t noticed until now. Thinking it over, you took the bloom. The three men sat up straighter. You twirled the rose in your fingers as they froze where they were. But then glanced over with a biting smile. “I thank each of you for your time…Ringo, you make me smile…John, you really opened up but…Deaky, will you accept this group date rose?” Nodding his auburn head, he whispered “absolutely, half hugging you.” Chris Harrison then walked in. “Gentlemen, you may now join the rose ceremony. And there is a chance that if you did not receive that rose, you may be packing tonight…”

[fangirl-imagines]

Soft Barry Berkman Fall Headcanons

You love fall, like it's your favorite season and you love absolutely everything about it. The colors, the turning leaves, the sweaters and flannels, the cozy afternoons, and pumpkin candles.

And Barry loves when you get excited and your eyes light up talking about things and you just look so happy. So Barry by extension, also loves fall. 

Especially when you begin showing him all the soft, wonderful things about fall he's missed out on.

Like when you go to kiss him good morning in October and find his lips taste like pumpkin spice. He got the coffee creamer for you when you stay over but he uses it all instead. You don't mind.

Stealing his sweatshirts when the weather gets more comfortably cool in LA and Barry getting heart eyes. Because he loves you in his clothes anyway but you in his sweatshirt with sweater paws because the sleeves are too long? He's positive he's never seen anything more adorable. 

Which inspires him one morning while getting dressed in your apartment to borrow one of your own oversized sweaters. It's roomy and large on you but on him it fits just right. They're soft and smell like your body wash and laundry detergent making him feel safe and comfortable in it. He understands now why you're always stealing his sweatshirts. 

So the two of you steal sweatshirts back and forth for the next three months. 

As soon as it hits October you take him to the pumpkin patch with you, telling him its outrageous that he’s never been even as a kid and he needs to experience the tradition of carving jack-o-lanterns.

Barry’s not really sure what he’s supposed to be looking for as the two of you walk through row after row of pumpkins so he just picks a decent size one and claims that he’s done. 

But you won’t let him leave until you’ve both gone on the hayride. 

You even get you both a cup of apple cider and tuck yourself under his arm. He kisses your forehead as you ride together through the pumpkin patch and enjoy how peaceful it all is.

Fall dates are the best dates!

Another one of your favorite things about fall is making fall treats. Crafts and food. You’ll admit it, your basic and love Pinterest.

Barry will watch you intently as you work, seeing how you’re going to make your craft until you ask him if he wants to join you.

He’d be a little embarrassed at first about intruding and doing something so soft but after a few minutes he gets completely engrossed in it, having a great time.

Sometimes he’ll even send you ideas for things he’s found and wants to try making and ask you if you want to try them.  

Barry's favorite part about fall is Halloween. 

He hasn't celebrated in...well he can't remember ever celebrating it really but he's enjoying doing it with you now. 

At night the two of you will curl up on the couch together under a blanket with a bowl of popcorn in your lap, to watch a cheesy Halloween movie. 

Barry's not a fan of gory, graphic horror movies, he's seen enough of that on his own that he doesn't like to go seeking it out. 

But he loves cheesy, low budget scary movies with bad fake blood and over dramatic acting that the two of you can laugh at together. He also loves fluffy movies like Hocus Pocus and the Adams Family too where he knows there's going to be a happy ending.

When its time for your acting class’ Halloween party you excitedly ask him what costume he wants to wear and he has no idea. He wasn’t going to wear a costume actually but you find this unacceptable. 

So he finds himself being dragged from thrift shop to thrift shop one afternoon as you search for pieces to make your Halloween costumes. 

He couldn’t stop laughing when you showed him your Jack and Wendy Torrance costumes but he kissed you sweetly. The costumes were a big hit at the party. 

Barry made the picture of the two of you in costumes, smiling and tipsy his screensaver on his phone. Everytime he looks at he thinks about how lucky he is to have you in his life and to finally have people like you and the class who care about him.

On Halloween night, though the two of you stay home together, handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters. Barry loves to see what kind of costumes they’re all wearing and how excited they all are when they come to the door. 

He gives extra candy to the kids in Star Wars costumes, thinking you don’t notice but you laugh and shake your head at him.

Barry loves how domestic it all feels and, though he’s never spent much time around kids and feels kind of awkward around them, not sure what to do, it makes him think about what it might be like when the two of you have kids to celebrate Halloween with too.

[split-n-splice]

Oop, a longer chapter. Bear with me.

[Chapter Guide | FFn | Ao3]

40. Whose Side – 3

Her foul mood was expected, but her curt greeting still stung like a viper bite.

“I-I’m sorry I’m late,” sputtered Drakken, glancing at his bitter passenger. Making up excuses was a lost cause, but the feeble explanation tumbled out of his mouth before he could think to match her callous attitude. “I slept through my alarm, a-and I got distracted, and then you didn’t answer when I called so I figured I had best come check on you, but you weren’t home—”

“Drakken,” she interrupted tersely with a voice cold and sharp as ice.

He gulped. “Yes, Shego?”

“Shut up.”

He bit his cheek to silence an objection. The van idled a moment more as he studied her dark glare fixed dead ahead, her arms folded tight across herself and the faintest hint of green glimmering from between her fingers, visibly containing how upset she was at – at him? What had he done? Besides forget to pick her up from Buckley’s again? He wracked his brains quickly, but decided figuring her out was best saved for another time.

Attempting to appease her didn’t suit the image he was going for. He’d have to work on it. Nonetheless he couldn’t stop himself from piping up. “It’s not too late to pick up some Chow.”

Shego was silent.

Drakken turned the van around and said nothing of it when she dug out a pack of smokes from her pocket to light one up. He certainly kept his eyes off her every time she brought it to her lips to take a puff. Or he tried to, anyway.

By the time he’d navigated his way back to the Cow-n-Chow, she’d relaxed enough to kick her feet up on the dash and tune the radio. That came as some relief, but he knew better than to believe the danger had passed. Drakken was ready to order her usual for her when she spoke up, requesting salad instead. Erring on the side of caution, he ordered her usual anyway, which she tucked into and finished without a word before demanding another stop for a video rental.

He anticipated being presented with a dark and ominous film, but instead she returned to the van dully announcing she could use a laugh, and flashed the cover of a detective comedy. He had mixed feelings about the whimsical man in the picture, but ultimately decided it wasn’t his movie to watch and so the only opinion he spared was a grunt.

“Anything else?” could have been asked a little more nicely, but she could have answered a little more crossly too so he counted his blessings.

“Yeah. Do you have popcorn back home or should we pick some up?”

A sound of frustration snuck out of his mouth, but at least he could nod.

She’d get her popcorn and movie, and he – he had a backlog to catch up on. If there was any urgency to complete projects though, he quickly forgot about it when Shego’s fingers curled around his arm as he made to cross the tech lab to head downstairs. Weak against her pull, he followed her lead with nary a word in defiance.

He barely stifled his protest when he was shoved down onto the couch, his shoulders feeling strangely sunburned where she’d pushed him. “Shego, I can’t—,” was all that made it out of his mouth before her cold stare shut him up. He sat stiffly in place for a minute, contemplating ways to get out of a goodie-goodie comedy he already owned a copy of. He told her where the popcorn was when asked, but otherwise kept his lips zipped tight as the buttery aroma warmed the stale air.

Shego still wore the same stony glare as she wordlessly turned down the lights, popped in the tape, and threw herself down on the far end of the couch, guarding her bowl of popcorn she didn’t seem keen on sharing.

By the light of the previews, Drakken dared to watch her from the corner of his eye – and before they were over, he’d found the gall to unzip his lips. “Do I need to build a brain tap machine to figure out what has you so…so…,” pissed off would not be a safe choice of words, he decided as Shego’s glare turned to sear through him. “Because I can and I will.” How hard could it be? Like a lie detector, but more in depth, right?

“Stay. Out. Of my brain,” she ground out. Slumping further and drawing her knees up, she added in a small grumble, “Jackass.”

He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her ire, but he knew a brain tap machine was off the table. For now.

Drakken crossed his arms and willed his gaze to stay on the television, but it strayed once more as scenes he’d seen before played out. She couldn’t be that angry at him for being so unfashionably late, could she? Puzzled, he stared until her jaded gaze darted to him, if only for a split second.

He hardened his own frown on the television, willing his arms to unfold, bracing himself to stand on the count of three – or ten – or one hundred. He made it to the count of sixty-five when he bit the bullet. His butt was lucky to have made it an inch from the cushion when a hand snapped out, nails digging into his shoulder. He could smell the trace of fabric smoldering beneath Shego’s palm, and felt the tremble before she retracted her grip and stuffed her hands in her armpits to hide the faint green glimmer emanating from her palms.

Swallowing and setting his jaw, Drakken stared down the moody young woman who did not appear to be enjoying her movie whatsoever. “I have better things to do with my time than—,” he began tersely, but of course was interrupted by his puzzling company.

“Lipsky, you are going to watch this normal movie with me, on a normal couch, on a normal television,” she said, her voice bearing a threat of consequence if he dared defy her. “And it’s going to be – I’m going to be—,” she was swallowing hard then as if to gulp down the frog in her throat, batting her lashes to blink away – oh for Pete’s sake, were her eyes misty?

This wasn’t a tearjerker movie, but he glanced to the television anyway as some silly, borderline obscene, gag played out.

“Yes?” he carefully urged, playing the odds she might shed a little light on the situation.

Shego all but blew up on him, flipping the bowl of popcorn balanced on her knees in the process. “NORMAL!” she shouted in frustration, and in the dim light, he caught a glimpse of the green embers fizzling and oozing from her palms as she clawed the air as if she wished to wring someone’s neck. “I want to feel normal! Just for a little while. So please. Forget about anything outside of this room for the next ninety minutes. Just shut up. Shut up and watch the fucking movie with me.” Given the daggers she shot at the television, it was a wonder she didn’t pelt it with plasma.

The startling outburst had Drakken pressed to the far corner of the couch, but at least she didn’t paw at any tears. She looked as though she’d rather throw punches before she let tears roll down her cheeks, though he was sure he saw the threat looming by the rapid flutter of her eyelids. He studied her as she curled into herself again.

He scoffed and gestured to his own blue skin. “Normal? Shego, normal is something people like us aren’t likely to be getting back,” he blurted out, much colder than intended. Even if true, once the words left his mouth, he braced to be struck with a punch, or maybe a glow-laced punch, or maybe hands around his throat, or—

Shego drew a shuddering breath and continued to glare at the television as though that would be enough to let out whatever pent-up frustration he was caught in the crossfire of. “It’s not just that,” he barely heard her grumble into her knees.

“Then what?” Drakken carped. She’d said shut up. He should have listened.

Thankfully a reprimand – verbal or physical – didn’t come, though he was so braced for one he was starting to cramp up. Shego was quiet for a long moment, until finally she exhaled slowly as though to calm herself. He swore he could see it, like breath on a chilly morning or a thin wisp of smoke after taking a drag. “It’s personal,” she said decisively.

In that case, whatever business she had with his television and couch tonight was none of his. Before second thoughts could weigh him down again, Drakken stood and played deaf to her displeased grunt behind him. He glanced to the door. He did have things to do. But he also had something he’d wanted to show her. He’d even tried to tell her so earlier, but she’d been determined to make him sit and keep her company.

“Do you mind if I—”

“Yes,” she snapped.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” he griped back, barely without whining, and pinched the bridge of his nose before trying again. “I think you’ll like it. I was really looking forward to showing it to you.”

It was the truth. He’d intended to show her the rare orchid sometime this evening, ever since she’d asked about it on the ride to Buckley’s Brew. And right now, she sure looked like she could use something to lift her spirits. Though there was also a risk, given the funk she was in, that she could destroy the specimen without regard to its value or the lengths he’d gone through to construct the miniature biosphere to grow the picky plant in, let alone the seeds he’d acquired in a high-stakes gamble. With a little work under the scope, the plant he’d genetically-modified himself months ago had been brought to bloom years ahead of schedule.

Shego’s misty-eyed glare burned into him for a long moment before she gave a stubborn sniff and reached for the remote to stop the movie with a loud crackle of white-noise filling the room. “Whatever,” she said coldly. “I’m going to get dressed for bed.”

It was barely six in the evening – but Drakken refrained from bringing that up as she shouldered past him. Her burnt mattress and linen had yet to be replaced. He desperately hoped that by tomorrow, his couch wouldn’t need to be replaced too. He frowned down to the marks she’d left on his coat, blue fabric singed black where shoulder pads ought to be, and discarded the victim of his volatile hot-tempered accomplice over the back of a barstool.

He slowly counted to three – only three – before leaving his living quarters and into the tech lab. Already, Shego was nowhere in sight, but as he passed down the hall toward his office, he heard the shower running. He tried not to slow or pause or lean toward the washroom door, but he didn’t make it past in time to miss a distinct sniffle inside. She couldn’t possibly be that upset he’d failed to pick her up from Buckley’s. Personal, she’d said. Then it was none of his business, he reminded himself, squaring his shoulders and stalking off for his office once more.

She wanted to be normal, she’d stressed. What was that supposed to mean? Drakken again wracked his brains. What was her idea of normal? Was she homesick? Did she regret passing up her opportunity to rejoin her brothers? Just a few nights ago, when he’d mistakenly brought his own personal woes to her, they’d sat together in front of her television and she’d drowsily reminisced about piling up on the sofa for family movie nights, failing to console him through his acceptance that he may never see his own family again – though he could barely relate to whole idea of family movie nights as an only child. Did she miss that? Not being alone? He knew she had four brothers, at least, and a father, and presumably a mother too – in other words, some aspect of her normal was a sizable family. He was only one person, and he was not crowding henchmen into his quarters to substitute for a family. Androids and henchmen had to be a sorry substitute for family anyway.

Drakken stopped at the bottom of the staircase, sighing wretchedly and rubbing at a crick in his neck.

It was quite possible he was off the mark, but if she wouldn’t tell him what was on her mind and he couldn’t devise any mind-tapping devices to get to the bottom of it himself, he was left to speculate. Unfortunately speculating was bound to give him a headache. Leaving Shego to sort herself out was possibly for the best, he decided, but he still turned for his desk to retrieve the orchid he’d left there.

He froze in his tracks when he lifted his eyes from the stone floor to see an uninvited figure sitting sidelong in his office chair, holding the glass pod containing the plant. Unplugged from what was essentially its life-support system, the delicate little biosphere was scarcely more than a glorified flowerpot, but it was still infuriating to see the intruder turning it over so carelessly.

The wave of alarm washing over him had Drakken scanning the room, frantically questioning where he’d had that blasted intruder alert button installed. That’s right – it was at the CCTV system desk across the office, in convenient reach of any henchman on security duty. Why didn’t he have a henchman stationed there anyway? He should know better than to let his guard down with a perceived threat in the area! He grit his teeth, inwardly berating himself.

“So,” cooed the young woman behind his desk before he could storm up to her. “Who’s this for?”

Frozen, Drakken couldn’t help a nervous gulp. There was no way she could know he’d brought it up from the basement for Shego. Then again, maybe she did. He thought out loud sometimes, and this stranger had the gift of invisibility to make spying a breeze. “Shego,” he growled through his teeth, though it wasn’t so much an answer as it was the irate wish for his accomplice to be beside him to explain the woman’s presence.

Miss Kimbley arched an eyebrow and smirked. “She doesn’t go for flowers,” she informed as if offering a helpful piece of information. “Oh, but try a fish dinner!” she recommended instead, smiling wider and chuckling, though Drakken failed to see what was so funny as there was certainly nothing comical about the territory she was suggesting. Even the henchcrew was strongly advised against cracking jokes of such nature.

Cheeks warming over, Drakken fixed a grimace on his face and hoped it was enough to mask his fluster. He sputtered something indignant and incoherent before he could stop himself, and he bit his tongue with a grunt and tried to form the words right before he spoke again. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?” he demanded, crossing the room to yank the spherical biosphere from the intruder’s hands. She was Shego’s acquaintance, but he was certain Shego wouldn’t have willingly invited her in.

The woman shied back just a little bit at the bite in his tone, but then she rose to her feet, pushing the biosphere aside to stand toe to toe. Drakken decided to set it down for safety’s sake, though the thought occurred too late to cradle it in his arms and make a mad dash upstairs for Shego. Instead he glanced across the room toward the CCTV desk, wildly seeking the button to sound the alarm, and lurched back from the fingers spreading over his chest.

“I have an offer for you, Mr…?” said Miss Kimbley, but he recognized a honeycoated tone when he heard one.

“Drakken,” he hissed. He batted the hand away, taking a swift step back toward the staircase – and most importantly the alarm button across the room. “Dr. Drakken.” Hadn’t he clarified that earlier? Alias or not, maybe he shouldn’t be giving his name out to a potential Global Justice spy. Even so, if she had something to offer, she had something to gain, and it was practically reflex to inquire, “What do you want?”

Despite another step back, the intruder was invading his space once again. “Better question,” she chimed, giving the bottom of his tie a tug. He snatched her hand this time, and tried not to consider how cold her fingers felt compared to Shego’s, which he could so often feel warming him even through his gloves. She didn’t let up, clearly not taking the hint nor offence to his scowl and raised lip. “What do you want, Doctor?”

Impulse urged him to snap at her that he wanted her out of his lair. The woman was trespassing, therefore posed a threat, and he was inclined to trust Shego’s judgment that he ought to keep his distance. Which was hard to do with his back against the wall. His mouth was dry. Where was that button? Better yet, where was Shego?

“Whatever she’s offering, I can do better,” said the confident pretty little thing before him in a voice that made his stomach give a sickened flip-flop. An odd shimmer like a mirage glazed over the woman and she was gone – to the naked eye, anyway. He knew better than to believe she had left, not when he still felt the invisible touch running down his stomach and—

If he hadn’t had a reason to panic before, he certainly did at the first tug of his belt.

“Hands off, missy!” snarled Drakken, leaping to the side and stumbling over his own feet. He reached for his waist – everything was in place – and just to be sure everything was in order, he tucked his shirt in a little neater.

The ghost of Shego’s past was visible again, down on her knees, a chafed look on her face for a split second before one of deep consideration settled in its place. Her gaze strayed from him as he regained his composure, her hazel eyes darting to his filing cabinet. One of the drawers had been pulled open. Had she been rifling through his files? Without a doubt, if she was here to spy.

“You need a thief, right?” she said, taking a stab at finding his sweet spot from another angle. “Assassin? Watchdog? I’m your gal.” She stood, gesturing to herself.

She most certainly was not his gal. He didn’t have a gal. And even if he did, even if Shego – Drakken stopped that thought in its tracks and gnashed his teeth, hoping his glare was as menacing as the ones he practiced in the mirror. But by the slow bat of the intruder’s fake eyelashes, it was not.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” he ground out, gesturing to the stairwell to signal it was time she took her leave. If she couldn’t take the hint, then he didn’t need someone on his crew who needed it spelled out for them.

Priscilla Kimbley glanced from the stairs to him, the calculating look still set in her furrowed brow. “Look, man, I need a change of pace,” she said pointedly, taking a step closer once again, but he squared his shoulders and balled his fists and she paused. Hopefully intimidated. Hopefully thinking twice about trying underhanded persuasion a second time. “Looks to me like Shego struck gold here. I saw some of your shit in the basement. Pretty wicked stuff.” Her wry smile was back. She couldn’t still be pushing for what he thought she was, could she? She didn’t look like the henchwoman type. She wouldn’t last a week in villainy.

Drakken glanced across the room to the button again. He could press it now, and Priscilla could be gone by the time the henchmen assembled, and if Shego was still in the shower – well, whatever the case, the intruder would be long gone before anyone could hope to catch her.

“Shego is more than I can handle, thank you,” he said stiffly, stepping toward the stairwell and nodding up it. He needed this woman out of his lair, before Shego could see her and he risked having another catfight on his hands. “Goodbye, please leave.” If only it was that easy. She understood the hint. No one was that stupid.

She still took her time sauntering over to him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said flippantly. “She’s not even giving you one-hundred percent.”

True, he wasn’t taking advantage of his accomplice’s full potential, but she did what he asked of her and that was enough. He still couldn’t stop his brow from scrunching as the intruder passed him and took the first step up. He nearly reached out to snatch her by an arm. “What do you mean?” he all but demanded.

The young woman paused to glance back. “She’s on drugs,” she answered simply, as though it were obvious.

And maybe it was obvious to anyone who knew the troubled superhuman. He’d like to think he knew her well enough. He’d smelled evidence on her before, and she’d made a friendly offer the other night and had the paraphernalia and everything. “I am aware she smokes—”

Priscilla Kimbley laughed, the single bark echoing up the stairwell, and she clamped her mouth shut as if only realizing now how well sound traveled in the lair’s stony corridors. “Nah, not that kind,” she said, toning it down to little more than a giggle. She set her hands on her hips, beaming down at Drakken, and he hated having to tilt his head to look up at the woman standing several steps above him now as she explained. “This shit puts her out cold. And I do mean cold. Total chill pills. Those megalomaniacs pulling the strings of that little superhero team of hers use it to keep her under control. I can get you some, if you wanna mess with it.” She gave a nonchalant shrug, as if offering to give him some miracle drug to control someone as dangerous and unpredictable as Shego was no big deal.

“I-I know about that too,” he bluffed. But did he really? He’d had a suspicion she’d been taking something, but it could have been anything. Truthfully he hadn’t given it much thought, but he wracked his brains quickly now.

When she’d first arrived, she’d skulked through his lair half-asleep occasionally, sometimes grumbling about withdrawals late at night amidst her unique issues – issues which were just now proving to be not as benign as he’d thought, if her crispy mattress had anything to say about it. If such a drug did exist, why in the world would she be back on it? Was she relapsing? She couldn’t be. She’d been so excited to use her full power when he’d made her the enhancing gloves – why would she self-sabotage herself to turn down the heat? Where would she have even gotten such a drug?

Drakken’s mind didn’t finish reeling through the possibilities before he blurted, “She doesn’t take them anymore—”

The intruder scoffed and reached into a pocket, producing a little orange bottle. She rattled the contents. “And you believed her?” she jeered down at him.

Drakken made a reflexive grab for the bottle but the woman held it out of reach with a wicked snicker before surrendering it without further difficulty. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It had to be just a bottle of aspirin, but the label – bearing a bar code and dosage with the instructions Take with food before bed, prescribed to simply Shego – looked legitimate enough, even if it didn’t clarify what the drug was. He trusted his accomplice leagues more than this shifty intruder, and he trusted her not to weaken herself – not to mention, if she was taking it, then she would have to be in contact with the supplier, Global Justice, and there was no way—

“I’ll let you sleep on it,” said Priscilla, interrupting his doubtful train of thought. She smiled again as she backed away up the staircase. “Roofie her if you don’t believe me. Only way you’ll get to have a little fun with her.”

He had plenty of fun with Shego – Vegas and the stolen station wagon were still fairly fresh in his mind – but as the words sank in, he concluded that spray painting graffiti and pushing cars off cliffs wasn’t the kind of fun this woman was suggesting. He opened his mouth to object, to defend himself or Shego or them both, but the intruder had vanished in the blink of an eye.

Maybe Shego hadn’t been over-exaggerating when she’d said the woman was not a friend. Maybe she’d had every reason to attack her when she’d arrived on her doorstep.

Stupefied for a second too long, he was late in diving up the stairwell, reaching out to grasp at open air, hoping to catch the invisible lady in his lair, but his hand met only empty air. “I am not drugging my partner in crime,” he hissed out, knowing she must still be near enough to hear him, and strained to listen for the slightest breath or shuffle of retreating feet.

He heard nothing.

Still clutching the pill bottle in one hand, daring not stow it in a pocket lest the intruder merely steal it back – invisiblity had to grant an innate talent for pick-pocketing – Drakken climbed the staircase a few steps more, his free hand outstretched and feeling uselessly for the invisible intruder. When he decided it was a lost cause, he let his hand fall and he snorted his frustration. An invisible woman who didn’t want to be caught would be a challenge to catch without a full sweep of the lair with infrared goggles, and he simply didn’t have enough for every henchman, nor did he have his own handy.

“I am not drugging Shego,” he repeated to himself, though as he returned to his office, pills in hand, he had to wonder how often she drugged herself. He tried to guess how many pills were in the bottle – the label specified 30 – and wanted to believe that most, if not all, were still accounted for. Where had Shego even gotten the pills? Had she brought them from Go City? She couldn’t possibly still be in contact with that rotten Global Justice – that would make her a spy, wouldn’t it? He trusted her not to be a spy. He knew it in his gut! Her brothers, on the other hand…

He shook his head but it didn’t clear up the plague of second thoughts he had now about his partner.

Drakken dropped himself down in his desk chair and pushed up his glasses to rub his weary eyes until stars burst behind his eyelids. Friday night, Shego had behaved especially strangely. He didn’t want to consider the possibility it wasn’t just the alcohol to blame – but he’d been sober enough at the time she’d stolen his cheese to make out her cursing to herself about needing to eat with something she damned with enough profanity to make a sailor blush. Looking at the bottle of pills now, the instructions take with food served as a jigsaw piece he didn’t want. The puzzle was coming together and he didn’t like the picture it formed.

How had Priscilla Kimbley gotten hold of Shego’s medication anyway? Were they working together, conspiring against him? No, of course not. Shego clearly had a beef with the woman, and she reminded him at every opportunity.

He’d very much like to believe Miss Kimbley was pulling his leg, but evidence pointed to Shego’s use of the mysterious medication. He shook the bottle around again and counted carefully – recounting at least two more times for good measure. There were a few missing. So what? That was proof of nothing. That Kimbley woman could have easily stolen a few. And if Kimbley had stolen them from Shego, then she would be missing them.

As Drakken was battling to convince himself that his companion wasn’t taking some strange chill pill provided by Global Justice, soft footsteps descending the staircase made him jump.

It was only Shego, in her googly-eyed owl pajamas and soft green slippers – not the sight one would expect in a lair of all places, but regrettably a sight for sore eyes nonetheless. Her hair was still damp, and her voice was a little on the hoarse side when she croaked, “Hey,” in greeting.

Drakken didn’t realize how fast he could move until he’d stuffed the bottle in his pocket and come to stand beside her. “Are you ready for that movie now?” he blurted, though he wasn’t eager to watch it himself, if he was being honest. Somehow it felt like an appropriate change of subject.

She sniffed, nose stuffy, and gave a weak smile. “I’unno,” she said with an effort at dry wit, “are you ready to be cute and cuddly?”

His legs felt weak and his heart thrummed meekly against his ribs. He wasn’t cuddle material nor did he strive to be cute, yet the prospect she might think so gave him an itch to try it out anyway. “I-I’m—let’s not get ahead of yourselves,” he stammered with a nervous smile.

She reached out for his arm, fingers curling delicately into his sleeve. She didn’t inadvertently burn him when she touched him this time, though by the look of concentration skewing her face, she was trying hard not to. “You wanted to show me something?”

In that moment, he tried to forget just how nice she smelled fresh out of the shower, and tried to think of how lovely the orchid did instead. And then he sharply reprimanded himself – because giving the orchid a whiff when his nerves were high would only heighten them, and he didn’t need any mood enhancers, for good or for bad, at a time like this. Neither did Shego, for that matter, but he turned back for his desk and the biosphere anyway.

“Now, it’s not for keeps,” he warned, gesturing to his desk and the flower on it. “But it looks nice, no? Y-you probably shouldn’t sniff it. It has strong effects on the brain. Amplifies – uhm – maybe when you’re in a better mood.” The blossom was largely unstudied, but by what he had gathered, the potent flower could act as ecstasy or it could plunge a person into depression, and cause any number of wild mood swings depending on the circumstances.

He went on to explain the exotic pink blossom to her, the lengths he’d gone to cultivate it, and its potential – but she looked bored the entire time his mouth was moving. Maybe that Priscilla woman was right, he considered, disheartened as he set the biosphere aside. Shego really didn’t seem all that impressed by flowers, even flowers as difficult to grow as genetically-modified orchids in climate-controlled biospheres. He made a mental note to find some she did like – and corrected himself that it was only to prove Shego’s indifference wasn’t withstanding among all flowers. No one hated flowers that much, except maybe the odd villain or two who utterly despised healthy ecosystems.

Shego pulled at his sleeve. “Okay,” she said, sounding bored to death. “You like gardening. Great. Can we go back upstairs and play pretend now?” She seemed more stable now, at least.

Drakken couldn’t help a sigh. “Do I have to pretend to be cute and cuddly?” The idea still had him uncertain. Especially the idea of cuddling – a possibility seeming realer by the moment, and with her no less – well, it made his insides do a nervous jig. There were more productive ways to spend his time, and yet he was compelled to bend to her will.

She flashed an impish smile. “You don’t have to pretend.”

“Good.”

“Because you already are, flower boy.” She turned away then with a small laugh at his grunt of indignation.

Despite what should have been an offence to his villainous ego, he followed her back up the stairs. His smile on her back faded though, and he reached almost involuntarily for his pocket and the pills in it. Pills prescribed by Global Justice.

Keeping his eyes up, he studied the back of her head, eyes inadvertently drawn to something that stood out against the sheet of black. Maybe he just hadn’t walked close enough behind her to see them before. There wasn’t much to see there on the back of her head – except, of course, a grey hair or two he hadn’t noticed until now with her hair damp and sticking flat around her shoulders.

Following Shego back to his quarters, Drakken tried not to stare too hard. She seemed too young for grey hair, but he was mindful enough to keep the thought to himself. She wasn’t older than she said she was, was she? No, of course not. He’d first met her as an awkward teenager – well, technically she still was a teenager – but it was only four years ago or so that he’d first encountered her. She’d been in rough shape, but thinking back, she’d still been very much a kid then. He hadn’t been in the best shape himself either, and he’d been in even worse shape when he’d ditched her at that lonely rest stop in the middle of nowhere.

Something about that fateful day echoed at the far reaches of his mind, just out of his grasp. Something about Subject B.

Drakken mulled it over as he made a fresh batch of popcorn while Shego sheepishly swept up the mess she’d made earlier.

It wasn’t until she was sitting on his couch, awaiting his return with the bowl, did it finally resound clearly in his head and out of his mouth. “Subject B is liable to break down in a matter of years,” he muttered incredulously to himself, staring down at the grey strands standing boldly against her unnaturally iridescent raven locks.

The thought of cellular damage crossed his mind. If her body hadn’t adapted to her alien power, the plasmic fire would have destroyed her years ago as surely as it would have anyone else’s who came in contact. Thankfully the first round of researchers had clearly been wrong about her – try as she might, Subject B hadn’t destroyed herself during the metamorphosis – but that didn’t mean they were entirely wrong, either. Without a so-called chill pill to suppress the flame, was she still at risk of hurting herself? Had Global Justice been doing her a favor by regulating her alien glow in some way?

Shego glanced back at him innocently, tearing her eyes off her movie. “What was that?” he barely heard her ask.

“Nothing,” he answered quickly, sitting down awkwardly on the far end of the couch, the bowl of popcorn set on the one cushion between them.

He tried to face the movie and eat popcorn one puff at a time from the palm of his hand while his companion snacked by the handful. He didn’t make it long before his eyes slid across to her, the thoughts still wreaking havoc in his head.

She caught him staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” he blurted, gaze snapping away briefly. “Um. Actually.” He was sitting on the pill bottle in his back pocket. He shifted, but it didn’t make his rear feel any better. Unabashedly studying the woman in her pajamas now, the question “Are you on any special medication?” escaped his trap.

Shego quirked her brow at him, suspicion fleeting on her face, but she laughed awkwardly. She took a guess, “Like…what? Birth control?”

He had to dismiss that one the best he could, awkwardly scratching at his neck. “Ah, no. That probably couldn’t hurt, but no, I mean – what I’m asking is – I’m just wondering if you’re taking anything. That’s all.” He swallowed and waited.

She dropped the wry playful act, her glare hardening on him. “No,” she denied, though he could hear the lie laced in her tone alone. “What makes you think that?” She needed to work on her deception skills.

“Nothing. Nothing, just…” Drakken blurted, realizing he was just as bad. His own pulse thundered in his ears. If Shego had put Priscilla up to giving him the pills, she’d be expecting him to come clean, wouldn’t she? And if she hadn’t, she’d have to expect him to return the stolen item. And if they were stolen, and if she was on medication, then maybe she needed them. “Well, actually, you said something the other night. And I just thought, if they help…maybe you’d want these back. I believe these are yours.” Swallowing doubt and anxiety and anything else, Drakken fished out the bottle from his back pocket and held his hand outstretched, bottle in his palm for her to take.

Shego’s eyes locked on the bottle. She reached for it but withdrew her hand just as quickly, wringing her fingers. “No, thanks. I don’t need that shit,” she spat – only to change her mind in the next instant. Before he could argue it or retract the offer to return the medication, she snatched up the bottle and jumped to her feet.

“It might be for your own good, Shego,” he called, leaping up to follow her to the kitchen. Her hands were emitting green cinders as she fought with the child-proof lid. He smelled melting plastic. She was heaving for breath. She was angry. What was she so angry about? It was a damn good thing he hadn’t let her sniff the flower.

“Fuck off!” she shouted vehemently, chucking the bottle with full force in the general vicinity of his sink. The half-melted bottle shattered, little white pills scattering. Before the pills had even stopped bouncing, she scrambled forward to collect him, cursing to herself. “Whose side are you on anyway?” she snapped back at him, voice cracking, as he approached the kitchen island.

“Yours!” Drakken blurted in reflex. “I mean – I thought – I thought you were on mine, is what I mean. And if they help you, maybe you should—”

“No,” she spat. She was trembling, throwing every pill she found into the sink under the running tap. She slammed cabinet doors to find the switch for the garbage disposal. “No, no, no,” she repeated to herself, to every pill she disposed of. He heard her counting them under her breath.

Once the distraught superhuman was sure that every tiny pill had been thoroughly destroyed and washed down the drain, she hovered over his sink, shaking her head as she ran her glowing hands beneath the steaming stream of water while the garbage disposal snarled tirelessly.

Drakken was quiet for a long moment, standing cautiously on the other side of the kitchen island though he knew he wasn’t out of the danger zone. Once her tremors had subsided somewhat and the steam had stopped billowing, he crept forward, daring to stand beside her and shut off the faucet. When he reached for her shoulder, he was just about zapped by the energy radiating unseen from her body.

Despite the shimmer of unchecked green glow glistening over her skin, Shego turned sharply toward him, her face thudding into his chest and arms constricting around him, squeezing the breath out of him in a bear hug comparable to his mother’s. The only difference was Shego was not his mother, and her body burned like a furnace against him, namely her hands digging into his back. He winced. The plasma burns eating holes in his shirt would need lotion later.

Bearing it, Drakken squeezed his eyes shut, choosing not to look so closely at her grey hairs, evidence she might very well be breaking down in some way. She was certainly breaking down on an emotional level, anyway. Cute and cuddly, he reminded himself as he gingerly held her by the shoulders, desperately hoping to channel whatever cute and cuddly part of him she’d been hoping for tonight even if it wasn’t his normal.

He knew the third degree was coming when his companion went rigid and roughly shoved him back, an accusatory glare written across her face. Drakken didn’t wait for her to demand answers before opening his big mouth to spill the beans.

[ilovemygaydad]

part 3/? of punk!patton gets adopted by single parent logan

part one - part two - part four - part five - ao3 version - masterlist (includes asks)

pairings: one-sided pining moxiety, eventual logince, background pining remceit, mentions of past thomas/female oc

warnings: swearing, lots of emotions, anxiety, worry, sympathetic deceit (his name is DC), jealousy, sadness, one-sided pining, rivalry mentions, depression mentions, divorce mentions, being held back a grade, arguments, anger, crying, unhealthy coping mechanisms, embarrassment, like some angst (sorry buds but emotionally closed off patton is an angst fest), food mentions, possibly something else

***feel free to send me questions or comments! i’ll answer them to the best of my ability, and everything is tagged under “punk!patton au”

a/n: this one is.... so long

(a clarification: logan and patton aren’t really father and son--they’re more like legal guardian and child. neither of them were looking for a father/son relationship, so they agreed that it wasn’t for them. i just didn’t clarify)

a few weeks had passed since the whole clothes incident, and patton and virgil had actually become real friends

which was why patton was unnerved when virgil’s foot wouldn’t stop tapping in their first block class

patton scribbled out a quick “you okay?” on a piece loose leaf paper and nudged virgil’s leg to get his attention and passed over the note

a few moments later, the paper is passed back to patton, and virgil’s neat writing reads “yeah, just nervous”

“about what?”

“well... i was going to ask you if you wanted to join my family for our twice-monthly disney marathon on saturday. dad’s college friend comes with his son, dc. he’s a senior. everyone wears onesies, and we just chill and watch cartoons for the night. you don’t have to come if you don’t want, but i thought you might enjoy it.”

and patton’s like

oh

okay

this is... a thing

so he writes back, “sure. i think dc is in my photography class?”

and virgil passes the note back one last time, but the timing went poorly, and the teacher sees

she’s like “mr sanders. mr summers. are you passing notes?”

and patton rolls his eyes as he takes the paper and clips it into his binder “no, ms w. virgil thought that he’d missed some of the notes yesterday by accident, so i gave him my sheet so he could double check.”

and the teacher is like ,,,,,,, fine and goes back to teaching, but virgil looks over at patton and gives him this small, thankful smile

and if patton has some weird, fluttery feelings about it, then that’s fine

even though he doesn’t

(the note says “7pm--last house on zora lane downtown. you’ll know the one ;)” and patton finds it really cute)

so saturday rolls around, and patton picks out some pajamas to go in because he doesn’t have a onesie

logan had offered to buy him a onesie, but patton looked up one that he thought he might like, and it was nearly forty dollars. he refused to let logan spend so much money on something so stupid

he settles on a black muscle tank and black jogger sweats because there’s no way he’s going to break his aesthetic for a disney marathon

he does wear his glasses, though, because he doesn’t want to deal with the hassle of taking out his contacts before going to sleep and then putting them back in before anyone wakes back up, and he’s too blind to just go without

and he hates how the huge, square frames look on his face, and the lenses are so damn thick

but he wears them anyway because he has to

logan drives him to virgil’s house and it definitely wasn’t because logan was hoping to catch a glimpse of virgil’s dad what???

virgil was right--his house was so easy to find. it had a ranbow flag flying by the door, and about twenty little rainbow pinwheels stuck around the garden

it was either the sanders’ house, or it belonged to the world’s most excited five year old

the thing is, virgil didn’t mention that it was huge with gigantic fucking windows and a chandelier that was visible from the fucking street

patton gives a quick goodbye to logan and goes up to the door. he rings the doorbell, and almost immediately, the door swings open. there’s a tall man in a stitch onesie and round glasses smiling at him, and all patton can choke out is a small “hello”

and this man squeals

like

squeals

and then he says, “you must be patton! virgil has told us so much about you--come in!”

it isn’t like patton is just going to say no, so he walks inside and follows this stranger through the house, looking around as they go

the place is just as big as it looks from the outside. there’s a formal dining room to the right and a large office to the left

patton wouldn’t really call the dining room “formal,” however, since all the chairs and the table are random colors and sizes and styles

but that doesn’t even mention the vast foyer with floating stairs to the second level on the left side of the hall and bridging to the upstairs on the right

patton couldn’t believe he was somewhere so fucking nice

they keep going and patton gets a few glimpses of the shiny kitchen and lush living room as they head through a door to the basement

disney music filtered up the stairwell as they descended into the finished basement

it smells like cookies and popcorn

they round the corner and there’s a little entertainment area with a rainbow of giant, fluffy bean bag chairs and a very large flatscreen tv that was currently on the main screen of winnie the pooh

there was also a bookshelf full of disney DVDs (and even a few VHS tapes of the classics)

virgil, roman, and dc were sitting on a couple of the bean bags, but virgil immediately hopped up and threw himself at patton when he noticed that he was downstairs

“you actually came! and you have glasses!!!”

patton huffs out a laugh as he wraps his arms around virgil and hugs him back “yes, i did show up, v. i wasn’t going to stand you up. and, yeah, i do have glasses. i didn’t want the hassle of bringing my contacts and solution and shit, so i just wore my glasses even though they look stupid”

“that’s bullshit!” virgil almost shouts, but he quickly corrects his volume “the glasses look really nice, pat. i swear.”

and there’s that stupid fluttery feeling again

patton rolls his eyes as virgil releases him from a hug, and he’s actually able to get a good look at his friend

virgil’s wearing an eeyore onesie, which matches the disney onesie theme of roman’s mushu onesie and dc’s beymax onesie

patton almost feels left out in his regular pajamas, but he cuts that shit out right the fuck away

virgil gestures to the man who brought pat downstairs “that’s emile. he’s dad’s college friend, and you said you know who dc is already” he still points to the boy who was draped over his bean bag upside down and staring at them with his heterochromatic eyes—the gold one standing out against the darker birthmark around his eye. dc flashed a peace sign, and patton waved back

virgil turns his gaze to the cookies and popcorn set out in the middle of the floor by the tv “those are free to eat—just don’t get between dad and the snickerdoodle ones. he’s vicious. and, i’m only telling you this because i know for a fact that i’m speaking too fast for him to understand”

so they all sit down and watch the movie

patton decides to not notice when virgil moves from a pink beanbag to a purple one right next to patton’s blue one

the movie starts, and it’s all goofy and fun in the basement. the sanders and picanis are quoting the characters and singing along to the little songs

even roman, who signs along with a soft smile on his face

patton is kind of in awe at how relaxed everyone is

he’s also in awe at how freaking cold it is in the basement

he can feel himself curling up and shivering, and he totally regrets wearing a tank top

patton doesn’t know how, but virgil sees him shivering and hops up from his chair, whispering a hasty “i’ll be right back” before sprinting upstairs

when virgil returns, he’s holding a bundle of gray fabric that he tosses to patton

when the bundle is unfolded, patton sees that it’s a hoodie with cat ears and paws and a big pouch in the front

“sorry that it’s so cutesy,” virgil whispers. “it was the most black thing that i own...”

and patton just laughs a little because,,,, virgil’s thought process is really adorable and weird sometimes

like any hoodie or blanket would have done, but virgil absolutely had to get patton the darkest colored one

pat puts it on and instantly feels much warmer

after winnie the pooh, they change to black cauldron

roman whines for a little bit because “there aren’t even any songs!” but eventually concedes because it’s virgil’s favorite and he isn’t going to not let his son watch the movie on disney night

after that’s done, the adults decide they’re going to go to sleep

emile says it’s because they’re old, roman says it’s because he has yet to meet his prince charming in his dreams, and he is looking forward to it

as soon as the adults are gone, the teenagers move closer to the food in the middle

“so,” virgil starts. “it’s time for our gossip session. patton, you’re completely free to sit out if you feel uncomfortable”

“what, uh, does this ‘gossip session’ include...?” pat asks because honestly ???? he’s a bit afraid of what he might hear

dc decides to answer, saying, “usually it’s about what teachers are being shitty again, how classes are going, do we have any annoying group partners. that sort of fun stuff”

and patton just nods because that’s not bad at all

and then virgil does that cute thing like in the movies where he crosses his legs and rests his elbows on his knees and he puts his chin on his hands and he leans forward

you know

that thing

and he says, “sooooo dc. what’s up with that cute boy from school that you like? oh, what was his name? ryan? ray???”

dc rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, and his voice comes out clipped and low

“i don’t have a crush on remy sanders, who you already know because he is your cousin. first of all, stop doing that every time you bring him up. second, stop fucking bringing him up”

virgil just kinda goes “aw, bud, you totally have a crush on him!”

and dc flips out

“you fucking know how much i hate your teasing about crushes, and then you go and tease me in front of someone i barely know? at least i don’t do that! actually, you know what? maybe i will tell patton who you have a crush on because, fuck it! we’re letting all of our secrets out, anyway! virgil has a crush on—“

virgil cuts him off with a loud “STOP” and patton swears that time froze in that room as everyone stares at each other

“i’m sorry,” he continues. “it was so uncool of me to tease you in front of patton without your consent. i just—i think you and remy would be good together, even if it’s just as friends”

dc stands up and starts to march to the stairs “remy and i were nothing more rivals in school, and now that he’s out of the competition, we don’t have anything to connect us. just fucking drop it. i’m going to bed”

patton doesn’t really know what the hell is going on with this remy guy, but he knows some major shit just went down

he decides to focus on virgil instead of the twinge in his chest at the mention of virgil having a crush on someone

really softly, patton asks who remy is

“he’s my cousin,” says virgil “he’s technically the year above, but he got held back last year because of some personal stuff that messed with his school work.

“ever since we were kids, remy and dc were rivals in school. they were both smart and athletic and talented, and they wanted to be the best. they had a lot of chemistry despite the constant bickering, and i tried to get them to become friends instead of rivals. it never worked because remy spends weekends with his moms, so he couldn’t do disney nights, and on the days he was with his dad and could hang out, dc was busy with gymnastics.

“then, after rem got held back, they pretty much ceased all contact. i knew that both of them were hurting because they lost the thing that fueled them to be the best that they could be, but it was pretty obvious that they were missing each other, too.

“i just want them to be happy!” virgil ends, hunching in on himself

patton hesitantly opens up his arms

“do you... do you want a hug”

virgil doesn’t even answer; he just launches himself forward and pretty much tackles patton to the floor in a hug

he’s sobbing now, and patton doesn’t really know what to do, so he pats virgil’s back every so often and whispers nice things to him

eventually, virgil’s breathing evens out and he’s just sniffling into the soaked cat hoodie

patton slowly releases him and rubs virgil’s arms gently in a reassuring gesture

“i’ve never actually done this whole sleepover thing before,” pat says with a sheepish grin, trying to play up the act (even if it is partially real). “would you mind if i slept in your room?”

virgil looks surprised for a second, but then his face smooths out into a tiny smile

“yeah, sure. it’s getting kinda late.”

they pack up the leftover food and stick it in a cupboard by the stairs before going upstairs

virgil grabs patton’s hand as the make their way to his room because tbh he needs the comfort

patton doesn’t mind

virgil opens the door to his room, and it looks just how patton expected

the bed is straight ahead from the door and placed at the bottom of a large window with pink curtains. the blanket and pillows are floral patterned in pastel colors. there are tall, white bookshelves on both sides of the bed that are filled with books of all sizes and colors; however, they look to be organized by age and genre, starting with children’s books and ending with adult fiction and nonfiction. there’s a door that leads to what patton assumes is an en suite bathroom and double sliding doors to the closet. the walls are painted a very light purple, and the remaining furniture are all a slightly darker purple. there’s a wooden desk strewn with tons of office supplies and a vanity with a large mirror and makeup neatly organized in small plastic drawers

everything just screams virgil

while patton is busy ogling at the room, virgil had gone and grabbed a sleeping bag and extra pillow, setting them up on the floor

“i’m gonna go brush my teeth, so make yourself comfy in the bed!” virgil said as he walked into the bathroom

“woah, wait—i’m not sleeping in the bed! this is your house. you get your bed!” patton argues as he takes off the wet sweatshirt and looks for a place to put his glasses for the night

“nuh uh!” virgil sticks his head out the doorway, toothbrush in hand and toothpaste all over his mouth. “you sleep in the bed”

“you aren’t sleeping in that sleeping bag. i refuse to let you do that.”

“fine!” virgil went back into the bathroom, and patton assumed that the argument was over, but virgil came back out with the same fiery look in his eyes. “if i can’t sleep in the sleeping bag, neither can you. get your ass in that bed before i tackle you”

patton had never been so afraid of a 5’7”, 130 pound boy before

he quickly slid under the covers with virgil following after he flicked off the lights

within just a few minutes, both boys were fast asleep

there is so much warmth when patton starts to stir in the morning

he’s just so warm, and he loves it

he curls into the warmth, and for a second he thinks about falling back asleep

and then there was a soft giggle

patton jolted back, opening his eyes to see that he was face to face with virgil

he had been cuddling virgil

and virgil was laughing at him

“awwww, pat! you’re so cute when you’re asleep! you kept trying to cuddle me.”

“shut the fuck up,” patton grumbled, putting his glasses back on and slipping out of the bed

“but it was so cute!!!”

“and if you tell anyone,” patton growls (although, there isn’t much bite behind it) “i will end you. I have a reputation to uphold, and i won’t let you ruin it”

virgil just laughs and follows patton downstairs, teasing him the whole way to the kitchen

roman’s already there, sitting on the counter and stirring a bowl of something

“morning, dad!”

“morning, starshine. why does patton look so grumpy?”

patton slumps into a chair at the table all emo and grumpy, and virgil softly sighs

“i was teasing him, and he got a bit grumpy at me. i’m sure he’ll lighten up as soon as we have pancakes to eat.”

surprised, patton glances over at virgil. he was expecting virgil to completely expose him like the older kids at the orphanage had done, but virgil hadn’t. the smaller boy smiles gently and winks, sitting down next to pat

there’s this strong urge in patton to lean close to virgil, but he squashes that feeling down right the fuck away

“hey, has dc been down yet...?” virgil asks, and patton can see that he’s genuinely still worried and upset about what happened last night

“i am now,” dc announces as he walks into the kitchen

patton is Extremely uncomfortable right now

dc and virgil are just staring at each other when virgil speaks up again

“look, dc, i’m really sorry. it was super selfish of me to try and force your life a certain way based on what i wanted. i’ve always just wanted you two to be happy, but i let my own emotions get in the way”

there was a long pause, and for a second, patton thought that dc was going to throw hands or something

“i forgive you, virge,” dc sighs, and he sits down next to virgil. “i’m sorry, too. i was about to deal a low blow, and that was equally shitty.” he groaned and hid his face in his hands. “and you were right”

“right about... what, exactly?” virgil asked

“i have a crush on remy”

“oh. oh! oh my gosh, dc! that’s sweet! aw, i’m proud of you.”

patton has NO clue what’s going on, but he thinks it’s a nice family moment, so he decides not to intrude

dc and virgil chat for a few minutes, and patton stares at the table silently

it feels a bit like breakfasts at the orphanage where everyone else would laugh and talk and be normal kids

and he would just

sit

alone

all the while, roman had been cooking, and he shouts out, “alright, every-gay--i mean, except patton?”

“nah, i’m... i’m gay, too.” 

“sweet!” roman says with a sigh of relief. “every-gay, it is time for... cinnamon roll pancakes!”  

a huge--like, at least thirty--pile of pancakes was set in the center of the circle, and everyone immediately began to set pancakes on their own plates and slather the frosting on top

dc and virgil began to banter with each other and, against his better judgement, patton joined in

and it felt...

really nice

patton was getting to know virgil’s friends and family better, and it was so interesting to finally be part of some sort of family dynamic for the first time

then he looked over at virgil, who was stuffing pancakes into his face and

the feelings kind of hit him straight in the face

he’s in love with virgil

virgil, his best friend

virgil, who tried to defend him even after he’d been a total asshole

virgil, who... had a crush on someone else

patton almost drops his fork as a sick, sad feeling twists inside of his stomach

he can’t be in love with virgil because virgil doesn’t love him

for the rest of the morning, patton’s all fake smiles, and he keeps quiet

he says a quick goodbye to virgil when logan shows up to drive him home, and he sits silently in the car as logan chats with roman for a few minutes

he doesn’t turn around to wave at virgil

when he gets home, he immediately goes to his room and cries into his pillow

life was a lot easier when he stifled his emotions...

to be continued... in part four

asks are loved and encouraged 💖💖💖

tag list: @residentanchor @eeveeawesome @xionical @absolutesandersidestrash @stormcrawler75 @musikasworld @ironwoman359 @a-weirdo-with-a-computer @thegaypotatoroyalty707 @darkrainbow333 @ravenclawunicorn1 @noahlovescoffee @whymustibedraggedintofandomhell @romansleftshoulderpad @still-waiting-for-cookies @emounicorn2006 @lana–22 @angels-ofthe-sea @demonickittykat @lonelysoul43 @the-virgil-mary @five-second-cookies @noisywolfbatbakery @band-be-boss-blog @heck-im-lost@lamp-calm-sanders @patton-e @knightofbloodcancer @cloudchaser7 @really-sleep-deprived-nerd @era-eclipsed @khadij-al-kubra @anxiousmorality @are-you-really-sure-about-that @today-only-happens-once @notalwaysthevillian @backatthebein @sunshineandteddybears @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn @dodos-in-damnation @some-lost-meme-boi @dead4sevenyears @spookyingarbageisland @the-poison-apple-of-art@radioactivehelena @the-melody-of-eliza @im-a-mess-aaaaaa @whycantihavemorethan32characters @broadwaytheanimatedseries @veryvirginvirgil @llamaavocado @unisaurioamorfo @caterpiller-tea @cornycornfriendo @simon-at-3am 

[bamby0304]

Apple of my Eye- Ch.13

Series Masterlist

Summary: When Sam and Dean were pulled back into their world, you were left behind. Stuck in the hustle bustle of Hollywood life, you have no choice but to play along, leaving almost all of your old life behind. Seven years later, when a rip in time and space opens up, you are finally able to go home… but you don’t go alone.

A/N: I mention JJ in this, and I mean absolutely no harm or disrespect. Don’t @ me because it might look like I’m complaining about a kid… I’m not that petty. Thank you @moonlitskinwalker for helping me out :)

Warnings: Fluff!! And a tiny bit of angst...

Bamby

Dakota was exceptionally well behaved the next day. Knowing that if everything was done on time she would be able to ‘camp’ in the library, she didn’t make a fuss once. Not even when you sat her down and explained that she would have to start school in a few days.

She looked up at you, thoughtful and a little worried. “Will it be hard?”

You dropped into the seat across from her at the kitchen table. “Maybe sometimes, but you’re smart, you’ll be okay.”

“I’ll help you if you need it,” Sam offered as he moved about behind the counter on the other side of the room.

“See.” You gestured to him. “You’ll be fine. Sammy is the smartest person I know, it’ll be like having your own secret weapon.”

The worry on her face ever so slightly, but didn’t fade completely. “Will… will there be other kids?”

“Lots of other kids,” you assured her.

“Will they like me?” she asked, shocking you.

She was scared. Back in the other world, she’d struggled with making friends. Even though she’s only ever known that place, she’d always expressed the fact she never felt like she really belonged. Even though she was best friends with JJ, they’d always been on and off. It was hard, watching her try so hard and fall every time.

“Hey.” Sliding out of your seat, you got to your knees by her chair and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “You’re going to make lots of friends. No one is going to know who you are, or who I am, we’re normal here, starting from scratch. Okay?”

Nodding, she wiped at her cheeks. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” Standing up, you ran your fingers through her hair. “Now, finish your juice and go shower, please.”

As you turned your back she lifted her glass and continued to drink what was left. Knowing she would do as you asked, you stepped up to Sam.

“You gonna tell me what you’re doing over there?” you asked, leaning against the island counter to watch as he quickly shoved some things into a basket.

Shrugging, he played dumb. “Nothing. Just… sorting the cupboards.”

“Sure…” you chuckled under your breath lightly. “Might’ve been gone for seven years, but I still know when you’re lying, Sam. That’s okay, though.” You pulled back and put your hands in the air. “You want your weird secrets, that’s fine by me.”

Pausing, he looked over his shoulder at you. “Seriously? You’re gonna let it go?”

“No!” You hurried around the counter and snatched the basket from the bench. “Ha!” Grinning, you held the basket away from him. “Gotta be quicker than that, Sammy.”

“Wait-”

Not listening, you peeked inside… and found an assortment of what looked to be movie foods. Popcorn, chips, chocolates, licorice, all kinds of treats.

“What-”

Before you could finish, Sam pressed a hand to your mouth and looked over your shoulder at Dakota. “You finished your juice?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Shower time.”

“But I wanna know what’s in the-”

Pulling away from Sam’s hand, you turned to her. “I’ll tell you after your shower, honey.”

“Okay,” she sighed, dropping off her seat and dragging her feet out of the room.

Once you were alone, you looked up at Sam. “What is this?”

“Dean wanted to do something nice for Dakota,” he explained as he took the basket from you again.

“Dean is always doing nice things for Dakota,” you countered.

“Well, he wanted to do something special. The bedtime stories, watching Paw Patrol and My Little Pony, spending hours drawing with her, running around the bunker with her on his shoulders… that’s stuff he can do every day. Tonight, he wanted to give her something different… and he wanted to give you something, too.” Adjusting his hold on the basket, he gestured for you to follow. “Come on.”

He led you out of the kitchen and towards the war room. Mind whirling, wondering what the brothers might be up to, you didn’t notice it at first.

“It’s not ready yet!” Dean exclaimed, drawing your attention to him.

The fort had grown. The blankets stretched further and higher, almost swallowing the entire back half of the room. It looked as if they’d gathered all the blankets from every room and shoved them under the tent’s roof. Jack was inside, hanging the last of some fairy lights. A small tabled sat in the middle of the entrance, with Sam’s top sitting there, open and glowing- though you couldn’t see what was on the screen.

Your lips pulled into a smile. “You did all this for Dakota?”

Jogging down the few steps into the war room, Dean shrugged. “We did it for all of us, but mostly her.”

“It’s incredible.” You beamed up at him. “She’s gonna love it.”

He returned the smile, coming to stop in front of you. “Really?”

“Absolutely.”

“Awesome.” Turning his smile to his brother, he nodded to the basket. “You got the food?”

Sam gave a firm nod. “Got it.”

“Jack will show you where to put it,” Dean told him, gesturing over his shoulder to the fort and the nephilim.

Giving you and Dean a wondering glance, Sam headed over to Jack to hand the basket over. Now alone- well, as alone as you could be- Dean turned his focus back to you

“I was thinking… movie night, snacks, and camp out in the fort?”

Your eyes drifted to the towering blankets and sheets. “All of us?”

“There’s plenty of space,” he assured you. “Sam doesn’t have to sleep outside anymore.”

Chuckling, you met his gaze again. “I was more thinking… sleeping on the ground is going to kill me, and your snoring is going to kill everyone else.”

He gasped in mock offence. “I do not snore.”

“You do,” you insisted. “It’s not a secret.”

“I had my shower, Mum,” Dakota called as she came hurrying into the room. “Can you tell me what was in the-” Her mouth fell open as she spotted for fort in the library. “Oh my God!” squealing, she ran over to check it out.

Your hand slid in Dean’s without thought as you led him over to your daughter. Laughing as she jumped up and down, you watched her get on her hands and knees and crawl into the tent.

“This is amazing!”

Leaning in, Dean whispered in you ear, “Think she likes it?”

“There’s a slight possibility, yeah.” You turned to give him a wink. “Come on.”

“Are we all watching a movie together?” Dakota asked as you got on your knees and started to crawl inside with her. “All of us?”

“Yep,” Dean groaned a little, crouching down as he waited for you to settle in.

Hurrying to the tent’s entrance, Dakota reached out and grabbed his hand. “De, you’re gonna be next to me.” She tugged him inside and tried to shove him into the spot next to you.

Laughing lightly, he did as she said and plopped himself down on your right. You smiled up at him as you laid back against the pillows. He joined you as the others moved about, Dakota putting Jack on her other side before she started to berate Sam for taking too long.

“I gotta get the snacks,” he explained as he started to crawl in.

She just giggled. “Faster! Faster!”

Your eyes were on Dean as he looked down at you, sharing small smiles that held secrets no one else knew.

Last night had been playing on your mind over and over. It had been difficult to get to sleep after Dean pulled away from you outside of Dakota’s room. Hours after the kiss, you could still feel his lips on yours. Then, in the morning, you recalled it all over again, and the countless dreams the moment created.

Laying there, looking at him, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to his lips.

His tongue peaked out to wet them. You had to bite your own lip to stop yourself from making a sound. It had been a long time since you’d been intimate with someone, and in that moment you felt the urge to pull Dean into another kiss that would lead to God knows what.

“Movie time!” Dakota exclaimed.

Both you and Dean pulled away from each other to turn to your daughter.

She was sitting cross legged between Dean and Jack, watching Sam’s computer screen with bubbling excitement. “What are we watching, Sammy?”

Reaching over, he clicked on the mouse pad and started the movie. “Dean thought you might like Frozen.”

Sucking in a gasp, she turned to Dean. “I love Frozen.”

As he opened his mouth to respond, the movie began. Dakota spun around to face the screen again, all of her attention on the movie. Chuckling under his breath, Dean didn’t bother to say anything and chose to focus on the movie, too.

You were all engrossed in the beginning of the movie when the song started. As Anna knocked on her sister’s door, Dakota bopped her head in time with the beat.

“Do you want to build a snowman?” she sang in time with the movie. “Come on, let's go and play! I never see you anymore, come out the door. It's like you've gone away.”

Dean watched her with a fond smile as she swayed a little and continued to sing.

“We used to be best buddies, and now we're not, I wish you would tell me why! Do you want to build a snowman?” She cupped her hands over her mouth. “It doesn't have to be a snowman.”

“Go away, Anna.”

“Okay, bye,” Dakota sighed, pretending to be sad just like Anna.

Engrossed in the movie, you weren’t even sure Dakota knew she was still singing along with every song.

“Reindeers are better than people, Sven, don't you think that's true?” she sang with a zoned out look on her face. Opening her mouth to sing Sven’s part, she stopped herself as Dean’s deep voice sang along with the reindeer.

“Yeah, people will beat you, and curse you and cheat you, Every one of them's bad except you,”

Dakota’s attention snapped to Dean as she giggled. Watching him, she sung the next part, “But people smell better than reindeers, Sven, don't you think that I'm right?”

“That's once again true, for all except you.” He smiled up at her.

“You got me, let's call it a night.” She beamed down at him.

Putting on a face pouty face as if it helped make his voice deeper, he sang his last part, “Good night.”

Too busy laughing, Dakota didn’t bother finishing the song, letting Kristoff do it by himself, “Don't let the frostbite bite.”

“You know the songs!” Dakota exclaimed, still looking down at Dean.

He shrugged. “Of course.”

“He loves Disney movies,” Sam added before taking a mouthful of popcorn.

You looked over at Dakota, seeing the way her eyes were shining down at Dean. She looked at him like he hung the moon, and it made you feel… at home. Despite the fact she didn’t know Dean was her dad, she still cared for him like family, and that meant the world to you.

After you found out you were pregnant with her you did everything you could to get back, but nothing worked. Over the years, stuck in the other universe, you wondered what it would be like to have Dean with you every step of the way. You wondered what he would be like as a father, and you wished you could give that to Dakota.

It might’ve taken a while, and it was far from conventional, but finally you could give your daughter what she’d always needed.

Bamby

[rocket-remmy]

Movie Magic|| Taylor and Remmy

Mirror, mirror, taped to the wall-- who the least human of them all?

CW: mild ablest language mention

The real question of the week was, how did you clean an apartment that felt as if the grime was an inherent part of decor? As if it were just part of the apartment itself. Remmy stood in the middle of the studio, looking from the derelict living room, with only a TV stand and fold up table next to the window, to their bed pushed all the way to the other side of the room next to the closet. They’d asked the front desk to borrow the vacuum and when they were handed a little hand vacuum, had exasperatedly run back up to the apartment and spent the next two hours kneeling on carpet as they vacuumed up as much as they could. It gave up almost ¾ of the way through the job, so Remmy had pushed the mattress over what hadn’t been vacuumed. That still left the fact that Remmy didn’t have a couch. There were two fold up lawn chairs at what was supposed to pass as a dining table, but Remmy didn’t see those as being too comfortable for prolonged movie watching. Frowning, they decided to pile up the pillows and blankets against the wall and push the TV stand down so that it was at the foot of the bed. A good enough solution for now, but perhaps the idea of a couch should be added to their list of things to get. Remmy spent more time over at Blanche’s place than their own most days, but a couch was probably a good idea. But it would have to wait, because there was more cleaning to be done before Taylor got there.

When Remmy was satisfied enough with the cleanliness of the place, they glanced at the clock. Not too long now, but they reeked of the same must the apartment always seemed to have, so it was a quick shower and a quick change of clothes. They were just drying their hair, noticing how long it’d gotten-- perhaps they needed a haircut too, they couldn’t remember the last time they’d gotten one-- when there was a knock at the door. Moose, from his perch on the bed, looked up, and Remmy stumbled out of the bathroom.

Remmy lived completely across town from Taylor, and she was very concerned with being late. She’d done her best to look good for this little movie night of theirs. Remmy was cute, and Taylor would be lying to herself if she claimed she didn’t want to impress them. She vainly knew it wouldn’t take much, if their kiss was anything to go by, but still. She’d opted for a tight black tank top, black jeans, topped off with a flannel for a splash of color. She’d freshly shaved the sides of her head and put on some aftershave on her neck, her version of perfume. All that, blowdrying her hair, doing her makeup, it had taken longer than she anticipated, and she showed up at Gallows End Estates fifteen minutes after they’d agreed on. Hopefully Remmy was okay with fashionably late. She climbed the stairs to their apartment number, not particularly bothered by the less than stellar exterior of the building. With a quick knock, she signaled her arrival and waited patiently, a bit of a knot forming in her stomach suddenly.

“Coming! Sorry!” they said, hurrying over and unlocking the door, throwing it open. A smile seemed to automatically pull itself onto Remmy’s face when they opened the door and Taylor was there. “You made it!” they blurted, then pressed their lips together in a thin line. “I mean-- of course you made! You said you would. It’s not like you wouldn’t. I didn’t think you wouldn’t show up! I don’t think you’re that kind of person! It was just, um--” God, Rem, shut up. Even Moose seemed embarrassed by their rambling already, sighing as he turned his head away to lay back down on the bed. “Sorry. I’ll um--” stepped out of the way and ushered Taylor to come inside. “It’s uh...not much! But it’s home. For now.” A pause. “I hope.”

The moment she laid eyes on Remmy, Taylor smiled to match theirs. “I sure did,” she echoed, her smile spreading even wider as Remmy rambled. They hadn’t changed a bit since that night. It was easy to forget what they were like in person when it was easier to censor words on the internet. Taylor liked it. Listening to their subconcious pouring out felt so unfiltered and raw, something Taylor could appreciate since she used that same technique sometimes to write her music. “I’d never stand you up, you don’t gotta worry about that,” Taylor reassured, walking in as Remmy stepped out of the way. They were right, the apartment really wasn’t much, but they’d tried their best. She could tell they’d cleaned, and just that made Taylor smile. “So what’s on the docket for movies? Got anything picked out?” 

Movies. That’s what Remmy had forgot! Idiot. “Oh, um--” they closed the door behind Taylor and redid the latch before scurrying over to the TV stand and throwing it open. “Let’s see uh...Blanche brought a bunch more over the other day. I know you said you like horror, I think there’s a few horror here….Or i’ve got this weird collection box that’s supposed to be all the hits from the past few years. Um...Date Movie?” Their breath caught immediately after saying the name. “Or uh-- something called Baby Driver? And um-- the newest Alien movie. I watched all the old ones when I was a kid, but I don’t really remember them much. Oh, she also brought me this collection of all five Final Destination movies. So really it’s um--” stopped, realized they’d talked almost without taking a breath or pause for two minutes. “S-sorry...I don’t um...have people over often.” Moose gave a huff, as if to further the point. Remmy looked over at Taylor from their spot crouched in front of the TV stand. “It’s uh...your pick.”

Taylor had forgotten to bring movies as well. She’d meant to, but she was already so late she’d left the stack she’d picked out on her kitchen counter. Luckily Remmy did have a bit of a selection. Nothing really stuck out to her until their final suggestion though. “I love the Final Destination movies! I hope you have snacks though. They weirdly always make me hungry. Marathon?” she suggested, still standing right inside the doorway. She was a bit nervous to approach Moose since last time. “I brought Moose a peace offering,” she said, reaching into her inside jacket pocket and pulling out the locally sourced bone she’d bought for him.

“Oh, um, yeah!” Remmy said, perking up as they pulled out the movie collection. “I’ve got plenty of snacks. Blanche stocked up my fridge last week and I haven’t even made a dent in most of the food yet.” They set the DVD down on the TV and padded over to the little minifridge in the wanna be kitchenette are and popped it open. They’re “pantry” was a metal shelf next to the window. “I’ve got like...chips. Popcorn! It’s microwave popcorn though, there’s no stove here. Um...soup? Some weird cheese crackers. Applesauce? Weird…” They glanced back over at Taylor, noticing her still standing in the doorway. “Oh, you can um-- come sit down or something? He’s fine. He’s just mad about the vacuum,” they said, coming over to her and holding out their hand for the bone. “You can give it to him! I-if you want.”

How much Remmy seemed to mention Blanche both warmed Taylor’s heart and, well, slightly worried her. They were a lot closer than Taylor thought. No wonder Remmy had freaked. But Blanche was taking care of Remmy too it seemed. Lending them movies, stocking their fridge. It was all very cute and domestic. “Can’t have a movie without popcorn, right?” Taylor commented, grinning over at them. They were so accommodating. So cute. Her nervous energy must have been written on her face though. “Are you sure? He didn’t like me much last time.” She tried to take Miles’ advice and not be so tense. Relax and try not to expect the worst. “Help me give it to him?” she suggested, holding the bone out for Remmy so they could both hand it to Moose.

“Oh, yeah!” Remmy said, their face lighting up. “Good idea! Maybe if he sees me helping you, he’ll be less worried.” They took the bone in one hand and motioned for Taylor to follow them over to Moose, who had been watching the whole scene from the bed, his head laying atop his big paws. He lifted his head when they got closer. “C’mere bud,” Remmy said, crouching, “want a treat?” He stayed on the bed for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to trust the new person in his house, before standing, too tempted by the smell of the fresh bone. Though his ears still pressed back, he tentatively took the bone from them, turned, and padded to a corner of the room, laying down to enjoy his new treat. “There! That went much better.”

Taylor smiled proudly as Moose took the bone and padded away. At least he hadn’t growled that time. “Still don’t think he likes me, but we’re getting there,” she said. “Right Moose?” But he was fat too busy picking at his bone to pay attention to her. So Taylor moved to climb on top of the bed, huddling herself in the little seating area made of pillows. “This is nice,” she said softly. Remmy had clearly made an effort, and Taylor appreciated it. “You’re a good host, Rem.” She bit her lip as she watched Remmy in the little kitchenette. “It okay if I call you that?”

“Oh, uh-- thanks! I um...tried. It’s hard to make this place um...look good,” Remmy said as they went back over to the kitchenette to gather snacks. Stuck a bag of popcorn in the microwave and hit cook. “Oh, yeah! That’s-- that’s totally fine! I don’t mind. The guys in bootcamp all called me different things, so really I’m used to being called by whatever. Uh-- I have lemonade, ginger ale, or sweet tea to drink. Or water?” They looked back over at Taylor on the bed and felt that flush of warmth in their cheeks again, hiding it behind the fridge door.

“Sweet tea please,” Taylor requested, catching Remmy’s blush no matter how much they tried to hide it. “If it makes you feel any better my houseboat doesn’t look too hot right now. Gotta replace some floorboards and shit. Flooding left a lot of water damage.” She looked around, realizing that sounded like a backhanded compliment. “I’m serious though, this place looks great. I’m honored by your effort. You really didn’t have to.”

“Oh, no,” Remmy said, reappearing from behind the fridge with two sweet teas and handing one over to Taylor. “I really did. I don’t think-- I don’t think I’ve cleaned since I moved in like two months ago. It needed it. Guess I just needed an excuse to make it look good.” A brief grin, before they cleared their throat and stumbled back to the TV. “So, uh...you really like these movies? I’ve never seen ‘em...what’re they about?” they asked, popping in the first disc and pushing play. Luckily, the TV they’d snagged had come with a built in DVD player. At least there was that.

Taylor graciously took the sweet tea and took a sip, watching Remmy closely. For being such an anxious open book, sometimes they were hard to read. She could feel the nervous energy wafting off of them. Or maybe that was just her own. “Yeah! It’s about someone having a vision of some horrible accident that kills them and a bunch of other people, and then they save some of the people when they freak out about the vision.” She grinned and lifted her finger, wagging it in front of her face. “But you can’t cheat death, and he comes to collect the lives he was robbed of.” She sat back again, patting the space on the bed beside her to urge them to join her. “It might sound like I just spoiled it, but they’ve all got the same formula. It’s the creative and gory kills we’re here for.”

Just be cool, Morgan had said, just be yourself! Remmy nodded, crawling over to the spot next to Taylor, settling next to her. Their face felt warmer again. “Oh that’s-- that’s a crazy concept for a movie! Sounds kinda scary.” They popped open the popcorn bag and held it over to Taylor. “It’s the super buttery kind, hope you like butter,” they chuckled, not noticing quite how hot the bag was. They didn’t really feel much anymore, physically. It left them craving to feel touch, of any kind. “Creative kills,” they said, “never thought I’d hear that as a sentence.” Another toothy grin, crooked on their face.

“It’s okay,” Taylor said, instinctively tucking her arm over Remmy’s shoulders. Not even trying to be smooth or anything. It just felt more comfortable. “I’ll protect you if it gets too scary,” she teased, plunging her hand into the popcorn bag. It was a bit too hot and she winced, but came out with a greasy handful anyway. “Oh I love butter. Best thing about the movies, really.” Taylor mirrored that cute little grin of Remmy’s, having to stop herself from kissing them. It was too much too early. She knew they were nervous, and the last thing she wanted was to make them feel used somehow. “I’ve been obsessed with gory movies ever since I was a kid. Always made me weirdly hungry too,” she admitted, shoveling her handful of popcorn in her mouth. “When I’d get too scared or weirded out by it though, I’d always just think about how the filmmakers pulled it off. Like what sort of effects and shit they had to use. When you imagine someone lying on the floor under a dude wearing a latex torso, pumping fake blood out of a tube, everything gets a lot less scary.”

Remmy felt their chest tighten again as Taylor hooked an arm around their shoulders. They’d craved human touch for so long, and now all they could do was sit stiffly. They remembered how nice it had felt to lay on Morgan’s shoulder, wrapped in her blanket burrito, why did this feel different? They eventually let themself lean into the touch, if only slightly. “I was never too bothered by gore, but I’m a sucker for jump scares. Don’t let me hold the popcorn, it’ll-it’ll go everywhere, probably,” they chuckled. Raised a brow, looking over at Taylor before back to the movie. A bunch of kids were crowding through an airport. “Really? Is that how they do it? I’ve never thought of things like that. Guess that’s why I’m a sucker at watching scary movies and stuff.”

Taylor could feel the stiffness in Remmy, and she rubbed her hand on their arm as she pulled them a bit closer to her. Even with all the anxious energy, they were a calming presence to Taylor. “Jump scares don’t bother me much. I like to be scared. Gives me a logical place to focus my anxiety. Like look, this thing on the screen, I’m supposed to be scared of it. Not of a conversation I had three years ago that suddenly popped into my head, you know?” She shrugged, turning her face slightly to get a better look at them. “Speaking or gore...which one was it?” She asked, looking down at Remmy’s body. She might as well rip the bandaid off. “Which arm?”

“I can get that,” Remmy said, choosing their words a little carefully. The doctor’s had said they would probably experience some form of anxiety once back at home, but they hadn’t told them what it would look or feel like. “I was taught mostly how to um-- focus my mind on small tasks, so that it didn’t start making anxious thoughts. So it’s kinda the same thing? They’d have us do like puzzles and word searches a lot at the halfway house.” Remmy froze when Taylor mentioned their arm. They stayed very still for a moment, before looking down at their hands in their lap. They didn’t wanna talk about it. They knew they probably needed to, but they really didn’t want to. Especially not with someone they might like. Like, like like. Remmy bit their lip. “Um...the-uh-- the right one.”

“That makes sense,” Taylor said. She was completely ignoring the movie now, focusing on Remmy. That was what putting on a cheesy movie was for though, right? So you could just talk over it and still have background noise. “I can see why jump scares would get to you though, with your PTSD.” She wanted to be sensitive about it, but she felt like tiptoeing around the right words would just sound condescending. “The biggest jump scares in these flicks are explosions, but we’ll keep it turned down.” She could feel Remmy stiffen under her grip, and she just gripped them tighter in return, holding them closer to her body. “What happened?” she asked gently. “I’m not gonna judge.”

“With the--” Remmy started, but stopped. All the doctor’s had said they would probably experience stress symptoms for a while after getting back, Remmy just figured that was what happened. And then it would get better. Like all wounds. That’s what Moose was for, right now. To help them heal. “Right. Yeah. It’s not so bad. It um-- should be fine. I think I’m just super gullible, is the main thing.” They somehow found talking about that easier than wrapping their head around telling Taylor about their missing arm. “Uh...we went down to the beach. To uh-- get pictures of the chest. But instead, a bunch of those um-- giant lobster things? Showed up and swarmed the beach and...we ran towards the shelter for safety, but they were getting close so I tried to like...hit one. And it--” they stopped suddenly, shaking their head. “It sounds insane. Even when i say it. Like, it happened to me, I was right there, and other people saw it but-- it’s just insane. Things like that don’t happen.”

Taylor hoped she hadn’t said something wrong, but the moment passed before she had a chance to clarify. Maybe being so blunt hadn’t been the right route to go. She was quiet as she listened to their story, nodding along, her mouth slowly dropping open as they went on. She’d heard of the giant lobster things, but she hadn’t actually seen one yet, surprisingly. “We? Who was you with?” she began, before shaking her head. That really wasn’t the most important question, but now she understood why they’d went back alone. As much as Taylor could chastise them for it, she probably would have done the same thing. “Well, things like that do happen, clearly.” Taylor picked up their right hand and brought the knuckles to her lips, giving them a soft kiss before lowering their hand and holding it in her own. “Like I said, I’ve seen some weird shit…” Her voice faded. Was she really ready to tell someone else?

“Oh, um...Blanche and Cece,” Remmy answered quietly. “Blanche said she was gonna go whether or not I was with her, so I kinda had to let her come...But I told her to stay by the car! And of course she didn’t! Cece was just happening by I guess. But they both jumped down to try and get me away from the lobsters, and we ran, and it--” they paused again, watching, entranced, as Taylor lifted their hand to brush her lips over their knuckles. Their head felt very light, suddenly. “I, um….before you….you should know I…” they looked at their hands interlocked. “I don’t think I’m human.”

She didn’t know who Cece was, but hearing that Blanche was with them at the time, it was all starting to make sense now. It sounded very Blanche to jump into action like that too. Taylor almost chuckled at the thought, but stifled herself. She noticed how Remmy’s voice completely cut off when she touched them, and it made her grin ever so slightly. But what they said next caused Taylor’s face to drop, and the gears in her mind to turn, slow and rusty feeling. “Can I be honest with you, Rem?” she whispered, nudging their chin to look her in the eye. “I don’t think I am either.”

Remmy felt like they were going to vibrate out of their skin with the silence hanging between them. Oh, god, they’d scared Taylor off, hadn’t they? She was going to get and leave and never talk to Remmy again. Because their arm had ripped off and regrown, and because they were too much to handle, and because they probably weren’t human, and-- “Wait,” they looked up when the words registered. I don’t think I am either. “You’re--” they didn’t really know what to say, so they said the first thing that came to mind. “Are you a bear?”

Taylor let out a huff of a laugh, brow furrowed at the question. “A bear? What? No!” Where had they even gotten that from? “This isn’t a joke,” Taylor snapped, but her voice softened just as quick as it had spiked. “Let me show you. Come here,” she said, climbing up out of the bed and tugging Remmy along with her toward the bathroom. Luckily, they had a mirror above the sink. Before Remmy entered, she held them at arms length in the doorway. “Promise you won’t be scared?” she asked, biting her lip. “Only one other person knows about this.”

“Oh, I--” Remmy started, “I wasn’t joking! I’m sorry if you thought-- I saw someone turn into a bear. They’re the only um-- non human I know.” They picked themself up after Taylor, following her towards the dinky little bathroom. Luckily they’d just recently taped a small vanity mirror up to the wall (poorly). “Oh, um, I-I promise. Why would I be scared? I mean-- I won’t be scared. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Taylor decided to leave the bear questions for another time, nodding as Remmy promised not to be scared. “Okay...okay…” She took a deep breath. Then again. She could still back out of this if she wanted to. It wasn’t too late. But before she could make that decision, she tugged Remmy into the bathroom, letting them get a full view of her reflection. While a normal looking Taylor stood next to them, in the reflection stood a scary visage. Sharp, pointed teeth, feathered face, fleshy but scaley skin, and large wings folded close to her body where her arms should be. “I’ve seen this in the mirror for as long as I can remember. I don’t know what it means, but it’s not normal.” Her lips were synced perfectly with the feathered reflection. “I used to think she was someone else. Like I was being haunted by a demon. But as time’s went on I...I think that is me.” She looked over to Remmy, nervous to see their reaction.

Remmy stayed still as Taylor gathered herself. Admitting something like this must’ve been hard. Remmy still hadn't 100% accepted that they weren’t human, but that lady Lydia online seemed to think so, and so did Morgan, and even Cece. It wasn’t normal to regrow an arm. Taylor tugged them inside and Remmy’s eyes met the creature in the mirror. Were they seeing that right? Was it a trick of the eye? No...Taylor’s mouth moved in tandem with the bird in the mirror. Someone on the TV was screaming about something, but Remmy just stared for a while. “So you’re a bird?” they finally said, turning to look at the human looking Taylor standing next to them. “That’s cool! I think? Is it cool? Is it weird that I said that? Can you like...turn into that bid? The person I met that was a bear was able to just...turn into it. It was weird and kinda scary but they seemed nice enough. And like, you’re nice and you’re not like..hurting me or anyone! And like, if magic and vampires and bear people exist, why not bird people? So it’s cool. Right?”

Remmy’s reaction hadn’t been at all what Taylor had expected. They were freaking out about regrowing an arm (admittedly weird) but was totally fine with Taylor’s reflection being a fucking bird monster? The logic didn’t add up in Taylor’s head. “Well, I haven’t turned into one yet. Besides, I’m scared of heights, so no flying for me!” She attempted to joke off her nervous energy. “You really think this is cool? This is terrifying, Rem. What am I?” She was trying not to be too dramatic, but she was prone to it by nature. This conversation wasn’t really about her, in the long run. She moved to sit down on the toilet lid, holding her head in her hands, only looking up when Remmy spoke again. “Magic and vampires? You’re joking, right?”

“O-Okay,” Remmy said, scratching the back of their head, suddenly nervous they’d upset Taylor. “M-maybe ‘cool’ isn’t exactly the right word but I’m-- I’m really not good with words. As I’m sure you’ve figured out. I just! I don’t think it’s like-- it’s not bad! I’ve found out a lot of really strange things exist in like the past two weeks and it’s a little exhausting and maybe it’s easier for me to just believe these things at face value? Like I just found out I can see ghosts now, and it’s like-- have I always been able to see them and not known? Or is this a new thing? Is it like...just here? Pretty sure I didn’t see any ghosts in Afghanistan. O-or Pakistan. Or at boot camp. Pretty sure I didn’t eat raw meat before, yet here we are! So, like-- if all that is possible, of course magic is. Plus I literally saw it happen right before my eyes, and yeah, maybe I was a little out of it at the time cause my arm was regrowing right before my eyes, but-- it happened! And I saw it! And, yes! Vampires! I’m being serious! They attacked Blanche! How else do you explain that chest on the beach making people cold without like...giving them hypothermia? I guess maybe it just makes sense to me. A-and maybe I don’t know what you are or what I am, but it’s not-- it’s not a bad thing, I don’t think! It’s confusing, don’t get me wrong, but it’s--” Remmy suddenly stopped. They realized they hadn’t taken a breath in that entire ramble. “S-sorry…” they said quietly, sinking to the floor in the doorway. “I ramble when I’m...nervous...I guess it’s a little more shocking than I thought, you being...your reflection….” they paused again, wordlessly reaching out and grabbing the razorblade sitting on the sink. They held out their hand. “Watch.” was all they said, before running the blade smoothly along their skin, cutting it wide open. But no blood spewed, no wincing, no pain. The skin fell back in place, seamlessly growing itself back together in just a few moments. “So...I’m kinda freak out about me, too.”

For a moment Taylor thought they were legitimately making fun of her. That the arm thing was all fake and she’d fallen for it and maybe they didn’t even see anything in the reflection. Maybe they were playing her for a goddamn fool. But she should have known better. Remmy probably didn’t even know how to intentionally hurt someone’s feelings. She let her face soften as they spoke, trying to take in the rambling they put forth. It was...a hell of a lot of information all at once. She felt her eyes going wide, almost feeling out of breath herself as they just kept going, and going, and going. “It’s okay,” she said softly as they sank to the ground. Before she could say anything else, they were cutting their skin and it...didn’t bleed? “What the fuck…?” she whispered as she watched it heal back up almost instantly. “That’s some Wolverine shit. Fuck.” So they hadn’t been lying about the arm, that was for sure. “Okay, yeah, I believe you that some weird shit is going on in this town. Weird people. And we’re just a couple of freaks.” She lifted her shirt and showed Remmy her belly button. Or lack thereof. Just a realistic looking tattoo. “I never had a belly button. My Dad said it was just a birth defect for whatever but…��� she let her shirt drop again. “Goddamn, my head feels like it’s spinning, Rem. Can I have some water?”

“Freaks?” Remmy said, their face contorting. They didn’t like that word. They’d heard it a lot as a kid. Freak, couldn’t look people in the eyes. Freak, counting their steps, starting over if they got out of order. Freak, had to open and close their locker three times before taking anything out. Remmy shook their head vigorously. “We-we’re not freaks. Just different. Just...different.” Remmy’s eyes fell to the emptiness of Taylor’s stomach, save the tattoo. They’d never heard of people being born without belly buttons, but with everything else that they were finding out, it was the least weird. “Water. Right! I can...I can do that!” They scrambled up, feeling suddenly cramped in the small bathroom, that shaky feeling in their hands that they got when they heard a loud noise. Grabbed the water filter jug from the fridge and poured out two glasses, bringing one back to Taylor, staying a little outside the doorway this time, hands clutched around the glass. “So, um....some dude just got his head cut off on the TV. Should I pause it?”

Taylor thought she might have offended Remmy with her words, but she stayed silent. Different. That didn’t sound much better in her mind. But then again, the age old emo kid question, what was normal anyway? Definitely not all this. As Remmy scrambled to get water Taylor stayed put and just tried to gather herself. Process everything she’d just heard and seen into something coherent and digestible. It was a hard ask, for sure. When they returned, Taylor graciously took the glass and chugged it all down, not realizing how thirsty she’d been. She let out a small chuckle at their words and got up, setting her glass on the sink as she approached them, reaching up to brush some hair out of their eyes. “Whatever is up with us, whatever we are, we’re gonna figure it out, okay? Together.” She caressed their cheek as she smiled the smallest of smiles at them, unintentionally ignoring their question.

Remmy stayed still as Taylor stood up, fingers brushing their cheek again, kinda like that first night they’d met. They swallowed, a lump in their throat. “O-oh, you...you don’t have to um, worry about me. I’ll be fine! I’m more interested in um-- helping other people out, you know? Whatever is up with me, I-I’m sure it’ll work itself out,” they said quickly, not quite moving from their spot, but not quite responding to the touch yet. They gripped the water glass tightly, not even noticing the little crack their pressure was putting on the plastic. “Um-- I-I know I gave you a lot of stuff to um, process, so if you wanna like...just sit that’s cool. I’m cool with that. Or we can like, go for a walk. It’s not very um-- scenic around here. But there’s a hiking trail! Or i-if you just wanna go home, th-that’s okay, too! I don’t mind. I’d understand.”

Taylor was such a hypocrite sometimes. The same things that came from Remmy’s mouth she could hear herself saying. ‘Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine’. But hearing Remmy say it, touching their skin, she could practically feel how they thought of themself. It almost hurt. She’d always been able to relate to people in a deeper level than was probably normal, but she’d never felt such strong empathy for someone before. It was almost a little too intense. “Let’s uh, lets go for a walk,” she said, nodding and taking a step past them and out of the cramped bathroom. “I think I need some fresh air.

Had they said something wrong? Remmy watched Taylor step by them, noticing their eyes pool from a cool green to deep brown. That was weird. They were a familiar color, though, distracting Remmy a moment. Something about them felt...sad. “O-Okay…” they said, following after her. “Hold on.” They made their way over to the dresser next to the bed and grabbed Moose’s lead, bending down to put it on him. Their hands were almost shaking and they weren’t sure why. Stood back up, looking over at Taylor. “I….” they weren’t sure what they wanted to say, but they wanted to say something, “Sorry. Today was supposed to be...nice. Not...this…”

Taylor waited as Remmy got Moose ready to go, and once they were she pulled open the door and held it for them and Moose to pass. “It’s fine, Rem,” she said, her voice holding an edge of exasperation, but she quickly stifled it, swallowing it down before she spoke again. “It was nice, in its own weird way.” She watched as Remmy and Moose passed and shut the door behind them, following them outside. She caught up and laced her hand with Remmy’s free one that wasn’t holding Moose’s lead. “Thanks for trusting me.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Remmy said, “No problem. I-I mean, why wouldn’t I? You haven’t done anything to make me not trust or believe you.” Maybe that was a naive way of looking at things, but Remmy wasn’t a skeptic. They trusted people at face value, they believed them because, to them, no one had a reason to lie. It had backfired on them quite a few times, but it wasn’t in them to not trust other people because of someone else’s faults. They squeezed Taylor’s hand. Moose was being awful good, not even a growl. “Hey, um-- have your eyes always done that? The uh, color changing thing?”

Taylor just grinned at their response. Of course. God, they were far too kind for their own good. It honestly worried Taylor a bit. One day someone would take advantage of them and their kindness if they weren’t careful. “What?” she asked, brows furrowed. “My eyes changed color?” She dug her phone out of her pocket with her free hand and looked at herself in it. The only way she could see her normal reflection. “What the fuck…?” she breathed. “My eyes are brown now? What the fuck?” She stopped in her tracks, just staring into her own eyes. They still looked like her own, but darker. Heavier. Full of something that didn’t belong to her. She looked over to Remmy. “You think this has something to do with...you know?”

They’d only just made it down the stairs and into the courtyard when Taylor slowed to a stop, pulling out her phone. Okay, so not normal. That was...kinda good to know. Remmy blinked, letting her parse it out herself, biting their bottom lip. “I mean, could be?” they said, “Here, lemme see,” they motioned for Taylor to turn towards them. “Maybe it’s just the lighting out here? O-or inside?” Or magic. Or whatever it was Taylor was. Remmy’s head was beginning to swim a little, too, as if something at the back of their mind was pushing to be free, to be remembered.

“No, they definitely changed color. Maybe they’re brown now because I’m full of shit,” Taylor attempted to joke, but a smile didn’t accompany her laugh, so it just sounded harsh and dry. “This is insane.” She was freaking out more about this than hearing about Remmy’s arm. She was honestly surprised by how calm she’d been about that. What did that say about her? “I think I...need to go home.” She reaches out and put a hand on Remmy’s shoulder. “It’s not you. I love spending time with you. We’ll watch those stupid movies properly someday. I think I’m just too spooked right now. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, yeah, no-- i’ts--” Remmy started, stuttered, stopped. “Yeah, that’s-- I get it.” Of course Taylor wanted to deal with this alone. She didn’t need Remmy sticking their nose in and trying to help. “You, um-- me, too. I mean, spending time with you. I like...doing that. Like that, too.” Their eyes flitted up to Taylor’s, but that palpitation that rumbled in their chest whenever they made eye contact started up and they had to look down. They were so familiar, so warm, so...Moose’s cold nose pressed against their palm. “Right, yeah. Rain check! I’ll take a rain check on the movie night. I-I-I promise I won’t um-- watch them without you. See?” Lifted their hand, fingers crossed. “Promise.” They remembered, now, whose eyes were that color. That soft, creamy chocolate color. “I um-- I hope you-- feel better.” Moose whined.

Taylor could slightly feel Remmy’s sudden distress and she did her best to calm them, leaning forward and giving them a peck on the cheek. “You too, babe. Like I said, we’ll figure this out.” She leaned down to Moose, hesitant around first but trying to stay confident, giving him a quick pat on the head. His ears were back like always, but he didn’t growl. Progress. “Until next time,” she said, before making her way back to her truck. Once she climbed in, she leaned her head on the steering wheel, taking a few steadying breaths before pulling her phone back out again. She had to get a proper picture of this. But when she looked this time, her eyes were green again. “What the fuck….?”

“Until next time,” they repeated. Remmy stayed put for a long time after Taylor walked off. Moose stayed with them, whining quietly, pressing his nose against their hand, but they didn’t feel it anymore. Why had Taylor’s eyes done that? Was it because of Remmy? Or something else? Why had they turned that color? Remmy didn’t want more questions. They already had so much on their mind. But they liked Taylor. Maybe more than they’d even initially thought. Would her eyes always be that color with Remmy? They didn’t wanna be reminded of him every time they looked at her. Of Dario. Remmy blinked, eyes suddenly cloudy. Moose tugged on his lead, pulling them back towards the apartment. They followed, mindlessly. Stepped inside. Someone on the TV got hit by a falling building sign. Remmy slid to the floor and put their head in their hands, unmoving. The credits rolled.

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*****

Convention sans fake relationship

Derek looks down at the letter in his hand. He’s been through the contents three times already and by now he needs to admit the words aren’t going to change. He still reads through it once more.

With a sigh he pulls his phone from his pockets and a few taps on the screen later the message is off.

He hears Stiles’ jeep first, like he knew he would, his footsteps drowned out by Erica’s chipper greeting when she bursts through the trees, making him wait on the front porch. It’s Boyd who opens the door, Erica and Stiles lost in snarky banter that has Derek fighting the smile that wants to break free. Judged from Boyd’s silent judgement he’s not entirely successful.

Nobody gets to call him out on it as Scott, Allison, Lydia and Jackson pulls up in front of the house then, soon followed by Chris, Melissa and John; Derek still isn’t entirely sure how two hunters - Argents to boot - became part of his pack, but he’s as grateful for them as for the rest of his pack.

When the door closes behind them and they’re about to take their seats in the living room Isaac comes down the stairs, taking his usual seat between Erica and Boyd. Once everybody’s settled Derek pulls out the letter and hands it to Stiles who is closest.

“Okay,” he says with a questioning lilt to his voice once he’s done, Derek’s only response is raising an eyebrow.

“You want to go,” this time Stiles doesn’t bother making it a question though Derek nods anyway.

“Go where?” Erica asks, curiosity written in every line of her body.

Stiles waves the letter around then starts reading “...to see the Hale at the 25th Pack Symposium; a full week with something for the whole pack. Programme and registration form can be viewed and filled out online.” There’s just a second’s silence then the whole pack starts talking.

Before long it’s agreed they’ll go, Lydia volunteering to do the practical things like booking rooms and seats at panels that look interesting. Then they discuss how to get there; it’s not more than a ten hour drive, and soon they decide to rent two cars large enough for all of them and then take turns at the wheel. With that settled they let Melissa pick a movie (it’s her turn), Stiles getting drinks and Peter - nobody noticed him opening the door during the debacle following Stiles reading the letter - making popcorn. It’s early morning before the living room’s empty and they’re all asleep in the rooms Derek had made for them when he rebuilt the house years ago.

~

They leave at seven in the morning. John’s asleep in the passenger seat next to Melissa; she’d been lucky enough to get the week off but he’d just gotten off a double shift; behind them Isaac, Boyd and Erica are playing some kind of card game and the last passengers in the car are Chris and Peter.

Scott’s driving the other car, Allison sitting next to him; Derek sitting between Lydia and Jackson with a book in his hand, Stiles sitting in the back, cooler with drinks and a bag with snacks besides him. He’s asleep, too.

They drive for a few hours before stopping for gas and the opportunity to stretch their legs. When they’re back on the road Derek and Chris are driving, the Stilinskis still asleep and Scott pouting because he isn’t allowed to sit in the back seat with Allison.

They take a second break when Stiles wakes, and one more half an hour later when John does the same. When they pull up in front of the hotel hosting the symposium it’s with Erica and Jackson behind the wheels, both happily handing the car keys to the valets as they exit the vehicles. They all take a few minutes to shake their limbs and stretch their backs before walking through the entrance doors and make their way to the reception desk.

The receptionist is a woman who smells like thunder and lightning but her smile is friendly and she cheerfully tells them the way to their rooms as she hands them their keys. Derek would like to claim to be surprised when he realizes Lydia has only booked five rooms, but he’s not in the habit of lying to himself, so he just follows Stiles after the receptionist has handed him the key to the room they’re going to share.

They all meet up an hour later in the hotel restaurant, their meal quiet and soon over, all of them going back to their rooms and getting a good night’s sleep.

~

Derek knows people are curious, but thankfully nobody asks about the fire, or Laura or anything else he’d rather not talk about with a room full of strangers. But it’s nice, being surrounded by ‘wolves, by pack; stories and games he remembers from his childhood but that his pack has never heard or played before.

It’s the third day and all participants had been loaded onto busses and driven to a nearby, private forest, where they could run as they pleased. There were a few capable of the full shift and Derek had run with them, leaving his clothes with John who claimed to be too old to run in his spare time. Peter had grinned and slapped his rear before taking off and within ten seconds Melissa was left with Derek’s clothes, shaking her head at the two men while shooing Derek off to run.

Running in this form was different to the beta shift. For one doubling the amount of leg made it more difficult at first but once he got the hang of it (and the more he shifted fully the less time it took) he could run faster and further than usual; second everything felt different as a wolf; there had been a chill in the air he could no longer feel, the leaves had crunched when he’d stepped on them but now there was no sound of his paws on the ground. And then there were the scents: they were all a little clearer, more vivid than they were when he was human shaped. One scent in particular - lemony-sweet and earthy - stood out more.

There was no thought, no conscious decision when the wolf - tired from its run - followed that scent back, wrapped itself around its owner and closed its eyes for a nap. He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep when he’s shaken gently, Stiles’ low voice telling him it’s time to get back. Reluctantly the wolf recedes, Derek taking the clothes Stiles is holding out and once he’s dressed they make their way back to the busses, finding the same seats they’d been sitting in on the way out.

~

It’s not all fun and games, after all Lydia has signed them up for every panel she thought might be useful. Derek definitely enjoys the one about courting and mates, the one with “opening the lines of communication” is useful though the speaker is awfully boring, but he’s not entirely sure why Lydia thought he’d need “to see what’s right in front of you”. He tells her this that evening at dinner which earns him an eye roll from half the pack and her condescendingly patting his arm before she turns to Erica and picks up their previous conversation. Derek keeps eating and soon he’s drawn into conversation with Chris and Boyd, the panel long forgotten.

~

Their last day - which also happens to be the day of the full moon - is when things stop being as nice as they’ve been up to this point.

It begins like every other day with Derek waking up and having to extract himself from not only Stiles’ grip but the way their skin has fused together because someone - Derek sends his bedmate a fond scowl - didn’t want to get a washcloth before falling asleep. After relieving himself he takes a quick shower and getting dressed. Then he wakes up Stiles, grins at his grumbling protests and when he pulls the covers over his head, Derek yanks them off of him, laughing at the outraged look he gets for his troubles.

While Stiles showers and brushes his teeth Derek looks over the schedule, deciding they won’t be needed for the day’s activities. Stiles agrees though he thinks they should still make an appearance for breakfast.

The sight greeting them has Derek regretting not insisting they could’ve left a note and taken off. His pack is standing with furious looks on their faces. At the table Allison sits, a ‘wolf Derek doesn’t recognize in front of her. The ‘wolf’s hand slams onto the table and Derek realizes they’re arm wrestling. He takes a step forward, interupting the unknown ‘wolf’s angry rant with a:

“What’s going on here?” Lydia narrows her eyes at the stranger while the rest of the pack refuses to look at either Derek or Stiles. In the end it’s the ‘wolf who answers.

“We were just playing for the rights to the pretty omega,” the guy leers in Stiles’ direction, Derek waves his peaceful morning goodbye.

“Who?” Stiles asks innocently, a dangerous glint in his eyes the ‘wolf either doesn’t notice or ignores. Derek’s money is on the former and if he didn’t want to get laid again sometime this week he’d be tempted to warn the ‘wolf.

“You,” he says to Stiles obvious amusement.

“Aaaaw, did you hear that, he called me pretty.” Stiles looks expectantly at the pack, all of them still glaring at the ‘wolf. “Well, if you’re still up for it, I’ll play with you.” The ‘wolf barely has time for a triumphant grin before Stiles flicks his wrist and the stranger is flying towards the ceiling; before he can make contact with it Stiles flattens his hand and then makes a few circles. The result is terrifying - at least for the ‘wolf now flying around the ceiling at breakneck speed soon screaming at the top of his lungs.

Derek waits but when after a minute it doesn’t look as if Stiles is going to let the guy down he finally decides he should maybe try to save the guy.

“Stiles,” he says carefully, “maybe you could let him down before he throws up on people trying to have breakfast in peace?”

Stiles smiles sweetly at him, but his - no doubt scathing - answer dies on his tongue when some of the hotel employees make their way into the dining hall.

“Sir,” the oldest looking of them addresses Stiles, “please put the guest down on the ground before we have to call the druids.”

For a second Derek is afraid Stiles isn’t going to do as asked but then he nods and reverses his hand movements, leaving the ‘wolf standing on the floor.

Derek’s a little sad they won’t get to run under the full moon with all the other packs on the other hand he much prefers spending those nights at home, with his glorious mate writhing under him.

[digital-dragoon]

oh maybe something about harry in a watership down au??

Lightning had always wondered what it was like outside. To be free to silflay where he wished, without the restrictions that the family of man set on him. 

Sometimes, he even wondered what his scar must look like, that marked his forehead. He’d never seen it clearly, not in the water. But he could feel it whenever he sat down to give himself a thorough wash.

The words of wild rabbits, different, varied, curious, were passed onto him through word of mouth by the field mice and the smooth snake that frequented the garden where he sat within his hutch, waiting it’s next meal or bathing in the sun.

They were his friends. His only ones. He couldn’t count the rabbit in the hutch above him as one, huffy and prone to bite him whenever the pair were together. He was much larger than him and unwilling to share food, never mind space.

So he supposed, that was one point to the men that cared for them.

Not that he wanted to score them on anything else past hrair.

But, today, as he nosed about the end of his hutch, catching the scents of fresh dandelion and daisies that the men had yet to clip away from the grass, a new, quite muddied, smell came to him. It smelled of the fields, of dirt and the wind and thistles. And as it came closer, Lightning realized that it was a wild rabbit. Never mind his nose, the tap of their paws against the ground made sure of that.

“Is anyone ‘ere?” whispered a voice, speaking clear (if roughly accented) Lapine.

Lightning straightened at once, his ears pricked and alert. “I am,” he called back in as low a tone as he could manage. “So is another, Popcorn, above me. But I think he’s asleep.”

“Great Frith, I though’ this day would never come! I’ve finally found you.” The owner of the voice hopped into view - and by the light of day, Lightning had never seen a bigger rabbit. He was bigger than a cat!

“What do you mean?” Lightning said, fighting back the wavering fear that prickled through his paws.

“I knew you when you were very little…. Well, smaller than you are now. The name’s Bryony, and I’ve come to break you out.”

“Break me out?” Lightning asked, his tone raising in confusion. “Whatever for?”

“You don’t belong in that ‘utch of yours any more as I do,” Bryony said simply, leaping up onto the box containing all of their food supplies so he could better see and survey the metal wiring. 

“And why do you think that?” Lightning backed up, eyeing him carefully.

“You’re a wild rabbit. Not one of the ones like ‘im above you.”

“I’m a what?”

“A wild rabbit,” he replied, regarding the leather straps that crossed over the top and bottom of the hutch. “Your parents were, and so’s you.”

“My parents?” Absolutely bewildered now, Lightning hopped closer to where Bryony was, his ears twitching back. “You know what happened to them?”

“They died trying to save you. That’s why you’ve got that scar.”

Immediately, Lightning dropped back on his haunches, raising his fore-paws to touch the furless patches. Tracing the lines there carefully. 

“Now get back, I’m gonna’ set to work chewin’ on this.”

By this time, Popcorn had snorted awake. Shaking his head, he peered out between the wires of his own hutch. “What’s going on?” Then he shrieked. “A wild rabbit! What’s a wild one doing here! Get away! Go away!”

Bryony glanced up at him with a growl. “Shu’ up, we’ll be leaving shortly.”

“‘We’, who’s this ‘we’? You better not mean that I’m going to be leaving with you, because I’m not having that!”

“No,” Lightning said, before Popcorn could start off again. “I’m leaving with him.”

Bryony’s eyes twinkled. and Lightning was sure he could see both happiness and relief there. 

“You?” Popcorn spat. “… I’ll yell for the men to come, I will. They’ll deal with you both.” 

“You won’,” Bryony growled. “You try, and see what happens.”

Popcorn squeaked and fell silent.

Soon, Bryony bit through enough of the leather to loosen the end of the hutch’s wood. And, shoving and kicking, he brought it crashing down.

Lightning, stood up on his hind-legs, eyeing the broken pieces, then Bryony, then the world beyond him. 

“Come on then, let’s get you out of ‘ere and somewhere better for rabbits than near man’s warrens.”

Lightning hesitated, then, slowly, carefully, he hopped his way out from the confines of the hutch, and down, with Bryony’s encouragement, onto the grassy floor of the garden patch.

He froze, the open space stretching out ahead him and all around him, an overwhelming feeling. But Bryony pushed him gently forwards and he followed along beside him.

Not looking back once, as they left Popcorn and his old home behind him.

[raptorginger]

Ear-sy Rider II: Reconnect chapter 1 - New Bacon-ings

for @ever-so-reylo

Not sure why I haven’t been posting this here from the beginning.  Maybe cause I was doing it on my phone and that’s hard to do?  I dunno

Anyway, here is a gift fic for Ever So Reylo, fellow Bob’s Burgers fanatic and amazing writer (but y’all already know that)

Former mortal enemies, nemeses even, Rey and Ben reconnect after Ben comes back into town.  A Bob’s Burgers/Reylo mashup

“Oh my God, Poe!  You can’t just let him in here!” Rey shouted as her sister Rose’s long time friend and sometimes romantic rival opened the front door of her family’s restaurant to let in a very round, very old raccoon.  The critter’s nails clicked across the worn linoleum floor as it scampered toward Poe’s stool at the bar and sat, waiting expectantly.  She couldn’t muster much malice in her voice, though.  She was about to close up shop and join Maz and Chewie upstairs, and the raccoon was practically a family pet at this point.  She heaved an exaggerated sigh and retrieved the little bowl Maz had set aside under the counter, the name “BB8” painted lovingly in grey and orange around the cracked porcelain vessel.  She carefully sloshed a couple of ounces of Merlot into the bowl and handed it to Poe, who set it on the floor.  The animal lapped it up greedily and used his paws to judiciously wash up when he was finished.

“He’s neater than you,” Rey teased.

Poe rolled his eyes and made a sound that sounded like air hissing out of a pipe.  He twisted his hips on his stool while he finished his beer and the rest of his fries, the once sparkly red vinyl cracking and squeaking as he spun.

Rey suppressed a groan.  They’d need to replace the seats again soon.  It had been ages since it’d been done last.  She hoped the supplier was still around.  Rey picked up a clean bar rag and and wetted it so she could start wiping down the counter.  Poe got up and let BB8 back outside, flicking the main light switch and “Open” sign off.  Only the small lights over the bar were on now, the entire restaurant cast in a soft dim light.  The sickly yellow pallor from the street lights could barely reach through the glass, and Rey could just make out the sign for Sheev’s Pizzeria (the Original!) through the fog and mist.  She rubbed the Formica counter a bit harder and started muttering under her breath.  Although Sheev Palpatine was no longer around to harass her foster dad Chewie, she felt like he’d put up that sign just to annoy him.  Palpatine had franchised his restaurant years ago and moved away from Seymour’s Bay “for his health.”  He came back every now and then to check on things and trade barbs with Chewie and Maz, but otherwise he was no longer a part of their lives, for which Rey was grateful.

She set her rag aside and began to pick at The Spot on the counter, the one no one had been able to get out since the damn thing had been installed decades ago.  She huffed into her palm.  Pick.  Pick.  Pick.

“Something on your mind, Sport?”  Poe asked as he brushed fry crumbs and ketchup from his mouth.

Rey pushed back against the counter’s edge and went to grab her own beer from the cooler.  Snapping it it open, she took a long thoughtful sip before she answered.  She’d moved back a couple of years ago to help Maz and Chewie go through old things and ended up sticking around.  As Chewie and Maz had gotten older, it was impossible to miss how they struggled to accomplish the tasks needed to keep the business going everyday.  Rey didn’t mind.  She’d always wanted to take over Takodana Cantina when she was older, but she couldn’t help feeling like something was missing.  Maybe things left unsaid or undone.  To whom or what, she had no clue.  Moving back to Seymour’s Bay had dredged up strange feelings of yearning and nostalgia that she had no idea how to deal with, so she often shoved them aside and chose to live in some strange emotional purgatory.  It worked for her.

“Arthritis is a bitch,” Rey muttered finally, taking another swig of her beer.

Poe barked a laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes.  Rey knew Poe was going through his fair share of strange feelings too.  Well, maybe not strange.  Just, a lot.  He and Finn had broken up, again, and Finn was dating Rose now.  Again.  Rey didn’t see why the three of them couldn’t just be together, but apparently Rose couldn’t stand Poe.  Or something.  Rose always mumbled when she talked about Poe.  To be fair, Poe had a tendency to mumble about Rose, too.

Rey was pretty sure they were all in love with each other, but just couldn’t admit it due to years of childhood rivalry.  She gave Poe a sympathetic smile.  They’d figure it out.  They had to.

“Hey, you about done?  I need to lock up here,” Rey said.

Poe wiped his face with his napkin and chugged the last swig of his beer.  “Yup,” he coughed as he tugged his worn leather jacket on.  “Thanks for listening.”  

He pushed his way outside, turning up his collar at the damp, and flipped a wave goodbye.  Rey tried to plaster a smile on her face as she waved back, thankful when Poe stepped out of view.  Her face fell back into its familiar morose expression as she continued to sip her beer and wipe down the counter and tables.  Overall, she enjoyed this time of day, closing time.  The air was still and mostly quiet, the only sounds the groaning of the large refrigerator in the kitchen and the pipes in the crawl space.  She could hear the hum from Biggs’ furnace next door, and tried not to think too hard about why it was on and instead focused on the soothing white noise.

Absentmindedly, perhaps to cover up the sound of the furnace, she started to whistle the theme song from her favorite Hawk & Chick movie, Hawk & Chick versus Seaweed Monster, a genuine smile creeping up on her.  She remembered when she and Chewie had to improvise the dubbing on stage during an impromptu film festival.  Rey laughed to herself and decided she’d pop it in the VCR when she got back upstairs.  Maybe make some popcorn.  Rey stopped wiping the table she was cleaning and took a step back, holding her arms around her middle.  She wrapped the nostalgic feeling around her like a blanket, allowing herself to bask in the warmth of her memories for just a moment.

Rey finished the rest of her cleaning quickly and switched off the bar lights.

“Good night, Restaurant,” she murmured to the dark interior as she pushed open the door.  The night air was thick with mist and fog, the smell of sea salt strong in her nose.  She could hear the rush of a car here and there a couple of streets away from Ocean Avenue and the sounds of the late night revellers at Wonder Wharf as she turned the key in the stubborn lock and headed for the apartment door.  Her hand hovered over the handle for a moment, the mist in the air clinging to her skin.  Distinctive laughter cut through the night air like a knife, shrill and biting.  Hux and Phasma.  Rey groaned inwardly.  They had always been more of Rose’s problem than hers, but that didn’t mean they ignored each other.  Unfortunately.  

Rey tried to hurry and unlock the front door when Hux’s simultaneously deep and whining voice called out to her, “Hey, Rey!”  He and Phasma snickered at the rhyme.

Rey rolled her eyes and plastered on her fake smile and turned around to see the pale red headed man and the fabulously tall platinum blonde behind her, inseparable as always with knowing smiles on their faces.  Rey didn’t like that look.  It meant they knew something she didn’t and were about to burst a bubble she didn’t even know she had.  “Hey, guys!” Rey replied as cheerfully as she could.  “What’s up?”

Hux and Phasma shared a look between each other before Hux spoke in a mock conspiratorial tone, “Did you hear who’s coming back to town?”

“No, I didn’t.  Tourists?” Rey replied in a wry tone, dropping her fake smile.

“Don’t be thick,” Phasma said, rolling her eyes and snapping her gum.  

Rey turned fully around and crossed her arms defensively.  “Look, I just want to go upstairs and relax.  Why don’t you just say what you came here to say and go to The Desire Dungeon, or whatever the hell it’s called, thinking you pissed me off, and we can all have a pleasant evening, okay?”

“Geez, don’t get so defensive,” Hux said in his weird nasally voice.  “We just thought, as friends…,”

Rey gave Hux a speaking glance.

“As acquaintances, we should tell you that Doctor Ben Solo will be back in town.  You guys knew each other right?”

Rey felt the color drain from her face.  Oh, she knew Ben Solo.  Practically everyone in town knew she knew Ben Solo.  Her nemesis as a child, her torment as a teenager, a fleeting dream as an adult.  And, if she was honest with herself, probably the reason she felt so weird about being back in town.  Hux and Phasma smiled in an infuriatingly superior way.  She rammed her keys back in her jacket pocket and shoved between them.

“Fuck you, Hux,” she snarled as she strode down the sidewalk, heading she knew not where but trusting her feet to get her there safely.  Hux and Phasma headed in the opposite direction, cackling wickedly.

Rey stalked quickly down the sidewalk, head down and hands fisted in her jeans pockets.  She slowed when she eventually turned off Ocean Avenue, her pace becoming more shuffling.  Pebbles and stones bounced against the rubber heel of her black Converse as she kicked them half heartedly, only to encounter them again after a few feet.  It was darker here, quieter, colder.  The sounds of the rocks clattering along the pavement seemed to echo all around her as Rey came to a stop.  She was at The Steps.  The stone steps where she’d first met Ben when she was nine years old.  He’d been a teenager then, and a bully.  He’d taken her hat, a silly pink thing with rabbit ears, probably her most cherished possession at the time.  She’d gone...a bit overboard in her response perhaps.  But, if a nine year old has access to the leader of an outlaw biker gang, it’s only natural she’d call him up to help deal with a bully.  Yeah, just a little overboard in hindsight.

Rey sat down on the steps and stared at the tops of her shoes, hands limp between her knees.  He’d tormented her all through her childhood with pranks and, just, his general existence.  It was easy for a nine year old Rey to make him into her nemesis, and her into his.  What sixteen year old wants to lose face to a nine year old?  He’d tormented her in a much different way when she reached her teens and he started college, although he seemed to have forgotten her completely by then.  That hurt worse than the childhood teasing and jokes to a scrawny high school girl with a crush on a college boy.  She thanked whatever God was out there for Rose, who had helped her get her feelings out on paper, and for Dopheld who insisted she practice all of the ridiculous dance routines he made up on the fly so he could “visualize his art.”  It helped her forget.  She still thought about Ben sometimes, especially now that she’d moved back and saw reminders of their shared past everywhere she went.  She wondered how college had gone for him.  His parents had pushed him into a very prestigious university, and he’d gone on to medical school.  She wondered if it had been what he wanted.  He was a doctor now, as Hux had so kindly pointed out, so he must have been okay with it.  

She was grateful Maz and Chewie had never been that way.  Then again, they’d always struggled to keep their heads above water, so maybe that was just a result of their focus needing to be on the family’s survival rather than their futures.  Things seemed to have turned out well enough, however.  Dopheld was a choreographer in New York and Rose was a fairly successful author.  And Rey had more or less taken over the restaurant, which had now seen a fair share of success thanks to Millennials who tended to shun chains and franchises in favor of local places like hers.

Rey heaved a loud rumbling sigh and chastised herself for feeling so maudlin.  Why did she let him occupy her thoughts at all?  There was no way she occupied his.  He’d probably stopped thinking about her the second he became a high school senior.  A junior even.  Chewie would say something about how she was letting him live in her head rent free, or some other weird parent bullshit that sounded helpful but ultimately wasn’t.

Why had she even stopped here?  Damn subconscious.  Rey pushed on her knees and stood up, straightening her My Chemical Romance t-shirt back over her hips.  She turned to head toward Wonder Wharf, thinking she might ride the Ferris Wheel or the Scream-i-cane when a voice called out to her from behind, stopping her dead in her tracks, soft and low and deep, like caramelized sugar.

“The only thing missing is your ears,” Ben Solo murmured.  “I’m sure I gave those back to you when we were kids.”

Rey blinked at him, completely overcome with something.  Something fragile and precious that left her awash in warmth and pain and softness.  It was too much, too many conflicting things and she hated it.  And he stood there, appearing completely unaffected and looking better than anyone had a right to look.  Rey knew she had grown since she was nine, and he still towered over her as he always had, but he was broader now, the perfect tailoring of his jeans and his well fitted black jacket making him appear even more so.  His hair was still thick and dark, his mouth teasing and expressive.  He looked expensive, like something in a store she’d been told not to touch in case she broke it.  Like something so out of her sphere of existence it was a surprise they’d crossed paths at all.

And yet, he’d remembered her ears.  Rey fingered the hem of her oversized jacket.  She’d dressed much the same in high school.  Jeans and band t-shirts and Converse.  And her ears.  He’d remembered her ears.  

He’d remembered her ears.

[queerchester-from-beacon-hills]

The Things We Learn

Chapter 7

Chapter 8 

It has been two weeks. Two weeks since Derek's been able to breath. Derek has sent message after message, called god knows how many times, left numerous voicemails. He's begged, pleaded, groveled, apologized. And nothing. Nothing came of it. No answer, no reply, no hint that Stiles even knew he existed anymore.

Laura says he's moping, it's not moping. He's just dealing.

"You haven't left your room for anything except work in two weeks, baby bro. You're moping." Derek told the voice in his head, that sounded annoyingly like Laura, to shut up.

So what? So what if he's spending way more time at work than usual? So what if he hasn't slept properly in weeks?So what if he sometimes spends the night in his office? And so what if when he does get home, he just wants to be alone in his room?

He is a grown ass adult, he can make those decisions for himself. No matter how unhealthy they may be.

He decided a run was much needed. He didn't bother on a shirt or shoes, knowing he was just going to shed them anyways. He tried to sneak out the back door in an attempt to avoid his family. He should have known better.

"Uncle Derek?"

Derek closed his eyes, taking a breath, before turning to face his nephew.

Daniel sat at the counter, his head tilted in curiosity as he took in his uncle. Sometimes this kid was too smart for his own good.

"What's up, buddy?"

"Where are you going?"

"I was uh just going for a run."

"Without the pack?"

"Ya, buddy. I kinda just wanted to be alone for a bit."

Daniel looked down at his hands, his bottom lip jutting out.

"You've been alone a lot lately." His voice sounded so small, it hurt Derek. Daniel was only six. He was just a young pup, and his uncle, his alpha, has been avoiding him. Good job, Der, A+ douchbaggery.

Derek sat down next to his nephew, putting an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

"How about when I get back, you and I watch a movie together? Your pick."

Derek couldn't help but smile as he watched Daniel's face light up.

"Really? Any movie I want?"

"Any movie you want. I'll even make you your own bag of popcorn."

Daniel jumped up in his chair, wrapping his little arms around Derek's neck.

"I missed you, uncle De."

Derek wrapped his arms around Daniel, holding him close.

"I missed you too, bud."

Daniel pulled back, patting Derek's head. Derek playfully snarled, snapping at his little fingers. Daniel giggled, doing it again to show he was faster than Derek's reactions. Derek let him.

"Okay, go on your run, Uncle Derek. I'll get mommy to set up the TV for when you get back."

Derek chuckled, standing up.

"Okay, buddy. I'll be back in a little bit."

Derek shed his sweatpants when he hit the tree line, nicely folding them in half and hanging them over a branch. He took a deep breath, breathing in all of the scents that the forest had to offer. They lived on the edge of the preserve now, leaving the original Hale house as a memorial instead of building on top of it. They were now closer to town, but still had access to the preserve from their backyard.

Derek let the tension in his muscles go, easily gliding into his full shift. He hasn't done this in a while, he mentally made it a note to do it more often. It felt good, having four paws sink into the forest floor. Feeling, hearing, and smelling everything. He took off, heading in no particular direction, just running to run.

The wind blew thew his black fur, giving him the feeling of being free. He caught the scent of a rabbit, chasing it just for the fun of hearing it's heart race. He kept a safe distance from it for a bit, letting it think it had the upper hand. Eventually he grew bored of the chase though, going back to just running. He sprinted through the forest, the ground making almost no sound as his paws barely touched the ground.

He wasn't sure of exactly how long he had been running for, but he kept an eye on the setting sun, keeping track of when he should be back. Soon the sun was almost completely gone, the moon taking it's place. Derek sighed, heading back in the direction of home.

As he got closer to the house, he could hear Daniel in the backyard. He was running around, playing. Derek smirked, sprinting faster. He broke through the tree line, kneeling playfully. Daniel screamed in delight, charging at him. Derek gripped the back of Daniel's shirt gently (Laura would kill him if he ripped another shirt) between his teeth, throwing him backwards, so he landed gently on Derek's back.

Daniel took two hand fulls of Derek's fur, holding on tight. It wasn't until Derek went to take a step forward that he noticed Jenna, standing with wide eyes behind Daniel's climbing tree. Derek froze, not knowing what to do. Daniel was none the wiser, nudging Derek with his foot, telling him he wanted to play.

Derek finally moved, letting out a bark of distress. Laura was in the door way moments after, sliding the backdoor open. She took in the scene, huffing in annoyance.

"Nice job, Der. You're an absolute fail wolf." Derek sent her a glare, but it was cut short. Stiles stood behind Laura, his eyes on Derek. He didn't look scared, obviously knowing it was Derek, but he did look nervous. Nervous because Derek was in front him, not because Derek was in front of him as a wolf. He noticed Derek staring at him, sending him a nervous wave.

"Hi."

If Derek was in human form he's pretty sure his jaw would be on the ground right now. Fortunately he was not.

"Uncle Dereeeeeeek, come oooonnn."

Derek huffed at Daniel, but did as requested. He twirled around a couple of times, careful not to move too fast as to knock Daniel off of him, but enough to where the boy giggled in delight. He liked to pretend Derek was a bull, see how long he could stay on. Derek made sure to never knock him off.

Jenna finally came out from behind the tree, watching the two of them. Derek reached his head around, grabbing Daniel by the shirt again. He set him on the ground, nudging him towards Jenna with his nose.

He went back into the tree line, shifting back and slipping his sweats back on. He kind of regrets not grabbing a shirt now.

When he got back to the backyard, he instantly had two little monkeys hanging off his arms.  He smirked down at them, doing a couple reps with a kid hanging off each arm. They squealed in delight at being lifted off the ground.

"You know, I'm not a jungle gym."

The kids just giggled, just trying to climb higher. The scent of both of them together made Derek internally purr. He missed this so much, missed Jenna. He put the kids down, looking back up to the porch. Stiles and Laura still stood there, watching them.

Derek cleared his throat, walking towards them. He didn't miss the way Stiles' eyes lingered on his chest. Laura was polite enough to act like she had manners, leaving the porch to join the kids in the yard. That left Derek alone with Stiles, and Derek's heart felt like it was beating out of his chest.

"Hey."

"Hi.. Can we talk?"

Derek wanted to say no. He wanted to be resentful, wanted to go hide in his room. But he also wanted to grab Stiles and never let go. That part of him won, and probably always will. He nodded, walking into the house. Stiles followed him, Derek closing the door behind him. They sat down on the living room couch, Derek giving Stiles plenty of room.

"I just.. I wanted to say I'm sorry, Derek."

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the one who fucked up. I shouldn't have left with her without letting you know, and I'm sorry."

"No, I overreacted. You did let me know, you left a note. With a heart drawn on it! And I know, I know she's safe with you. She's probably safer with you than me, cause you can actually do something to protect her. But I.. I just can't lose her. She's all I have left."

Derek reached forward, grabbing Stiles' hand in his. The younger man had tears pooling in his eyes that threatened to fall at any moment, and that broke Derek's heart.

"She is never more safe than when she's with you. I-"

"Shush, I'm not done. You're the best for trying to comfort me, but if I stop I'm not going to be able to get all of this out. Okay?"

Derek quietly chuckled, but nodded his head.

"Okay.. Okay. I'm protective of Jenna because she's all I have left of my little family. Jenna.. Jenna had a twin when she was born. His name was Mieczyslaw, at his mother's insistence to make him Mieczyslaw the third. I, on other hand, quickly gave him the nickname of Mitch. I don't think Jenna remembers either of them, and I.. I don't really talk about them. I probably should, for her sake, but.. I just can't.

"I guess that runs in the family, my dad did the same thing when my mom died. But uh.. the twins were about a year old when they died. Their mother, Caitlin, and I weren't a thing. She was a friend I made at college, and we spent one night together my second year of grad school. She told me a couple weeks later that she was pregnant. We talked options, the decision ultimately being hers, but we both wanted to keep it. We were excited, but freaking out all at the same time. And that was over just one baby, imagine us when we found out we were having twins."

Stiles chuckled lightly at the memory, a tear falling from his eye. Derek wiped it away with the pad of his thumb, having moved closer to his boyfriend as Stiles was talking.

"But uh, we decided that we should live together, for the babies. That was probably the hardest decision either of us made, deciding where to live. I was almost done with my last year of school, she had finished the semester before me, so we didn't need to stick around Berkeley. We ultimately decided on San Jose. It was pretty close to half way between Beacon Hills, and San Francisco, where her parents lived. We both would have no problem getting jobs there.

"It was all falling in place, we were excited. We found a three bedroom apartment in a nice area, we both had good jobs set up. We were building a life.. We'd been living there for a little bit over a year when it happened. Mitch was crying nonstop that night, it was keeping Jenna up. Jenna had a fever, she needed rest and some medicine, but we were out. Caitlin said she wanted to walk to the store to get some and take Mitch with her, thought maybe it would sooth him to sleep.

"I offered to do it, but she said she wanted to. She made a joke about Jenna being Daddy's girl, and Mitch being Mommy's boy, and then she left. It was only a block away, it shouldn't have taken her that long. So when she was gone for awhile I called her, but sh-she didn't answer.. Some druggy mugged her for fifteen bucks and an iPhone."

Stiles had a dark sneer on his face as he said the last part. Derek just squeezed his hand tighter, offering silent comfort.

"Caitlin always carried the babies in a wrap on her back. The guy thought it was back pack, and accused her of having more on her.. before shooting her. It went straight through, hitting Mitch too. When he saw that she had a baby, and not a back pack, he turned himself in. He's serving life, even tried sending us a letter once."

Stiles wiped at his face, trying to dry the tears off his cheek. Derek didn't know what to say, knew first hand that there was nothing he could say. So he just pulled Stiles into his chest, holding him close. He cried into Derek's chest, his hands curling into Derek's shirt. Derek let him cry, rubbing a hand up and down his back and pressing kisses to his head.

After a bit, Stiles pulled back, wiping at his face again.

"I miss them everyday. Jenna reminds me more and more of Caitlin each day. It hurts to think she'll never see our little girl grow up, and I'll never get to see the same for my son. But I have Jenna, so I hold onto her, and I don't think I'll ever be able to let her go."

Derek kissed Stiles' head again, placing his hand on the side of Stiles' face as he met Stiles' eyes.

"And you never will have to, I promise you that."

Stiles shook his head, pressing their foreheads together.

"You can't promise things like that."

"Yes I can, and as long as I'm alive I will keep that promise."

Stiles kissed him, Derek kissing him back in earnest. Stiles broke the kiss first, pressing their foreheads together again.

"You plan on sticking around that long?"

"I plan on being around as long you'll have me."

Stiles smiled at him, giving his lips another peck.

"Guess we're stuck together then."

"Guess so."

Chapter 9 - Coming Soon

[elysianbucky]

in regards to that fanfic prompt idea thing you reblogged I wanna request number 9 with Bucky

9. I am the museum curator and you can’t sleep inside the exhibit!! Stop moving the displays around at night for fun

A/N: I went a little overboard. This follows Bucky right after he goes to the Smithsonian.

1, 413 words

“It’s midnight, can you chill?” (Y/N) ranted pitifully into the dark, hoping that whatever or whoever was making the ruckus would stop. She reluctantly wished that the museum was haunted instead of being raided by an actual human and she shuttered at the thought.

This was third night in a row that she’d sat in the museum waiting to catch a glimpse of the thing that was causing her, and her exhibits, distress. Patrons had been coming to her and complaining about rearranged displays for the past week, each seeming slightly more upset than the last. All she could really do was give open-ended promises to fix the issue and reset them.

“If you wanna talk, we can talk,” she yawned to the void, the amount of time she’d been working was taking a toll on her, “I want to know what page you’re on, dude.” Her lower lip pouted and she was getting a bit frustrated.

(Y/N) perked up at the sound of a particularly loud scraping noise against the floor. Moving hastily, she crouched down and scurried towards the commotion. She probably looked like an idiot, but she did have to admit that she was making good pace and she was, mostly, silent.

She rounded the corner nearest the Captain America exhibit that showcased his accomplishments, fellow soldiers, and friends. Her eyes flickered over a tall, hooded figure who was bent down and messing with the display.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened dangerously when the person opened and reached into the pocket of James Barnes’ pants. She knew that a few of the man’s belongings still remained encased within the clothing. Peggy Carter had asked her, personally, to allow the items to stay and she’d be damned if she allowed some random person to defile James’ memory and her vow to Peggy.

Her chest puffed up and her jaw squared in hopes of seeming more intimidating. She silently marched towards the person, stopping just short of them. “What in the hell are you doing?” (Y/N) growled sternly, startling the trespasser.

The person, a man, jumped back quickly, falling on his rear with a echoing thud. His eyes were wide and darting from side to side in fear, (Y/N) dropped her façade and fell to her knees. “I’m sorry,” she cooed, holding her hands up innocently, “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just can’t have anyone touch those.”

“I needed to remember.” It was barely a whisper, (Y/N) hardly registered it.

“What?” she asked, brows furrowed.

The man’s eyes raised a bit, voice following in suit, “I needed to remember,” he repeated, looking over to the commemorative setup longingly.

(Y/N) released a short huff, “We have business hours, Sir. What could you possibly need to remember so badly?” though she didn’t mean to sound rude. She breathed out and moved to sit back on her legs.

The man moved too, sitting straight and crossing his legs, “I needed to remember who I am, or, at least, who I was,” he elaborated, lowering his hood to reveal long brown hair and an all too familiar face.

Her eyes raised, looking towards the mural on the wall and then returning to the man. “Oh my God,” (Y/N) mumbled, “oh my God,” she recited again, scooting closer to him to inspect his face.

(Y/N) sat back again, shocked to silence. She could feel her stomach drop and her chest bubble with excitement, “You’re Bucky, I mean, you’re James. You are actually James Barnes. I can’t believe you’re here, this isn’t possible,” she stuttered.

(Y/N) caught sight of James’ overwhelmed face and recoiled, calming herself. “You’re my biggest hero, Sergeant Barnes,” she retreated back to utter politeness, eyes ablaze.

James stayed low, so (Y/N) stood up, cautiously taking his hand in hers, and nearly sprinted towards his outfit, giving him silent approval to do as he pleased. He reluctantly looked at her, before running his hands over the material of his jacket and letting out a shaky breath.

“Did Captain America come here?” he whispered finally, tucking his fingers into a pocket and retrieving something.

“Cap?” (Y/N) asked, earning a curt nod, “yeah, Steve comes here all the time. Sometimes, I let him go through and just play with everything. He says it makes him feel nostalgic,” she added happily, watching James flick through the other pockets and placing each item in a heap on the floor.

When James finished, he looked forlornly at the pile and sat beside it. (Y/N), in effort to not invade on his moment, made work of re-fastening each button and patting the stiff fabric. She could hear light sniffles, her heart ached for the known stranger.

“Are you okay, Sergeant Barnes?” (Y/N) comforted lightly, moving closer and ducking beside him. She hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder, he first stiffened under the touch, but then eased into it.

James clutched a photo in the palm of his left hand and stared at it, he eventually threw up the hand desperately and sighed, “I can’t remember who this is.”

“Maybe I could help,” she offered lightly, “I know quite a bit about you, or,” she paused, pointing to the mural, “that you.”

He nodded, cautiously handing over the photo. (Y/N) could recognize the girl in the worn photo, “this is your younger sister, Rebecca Barnes.”

Bucky breathed in calmly, taking in the information and closing his eyes. He sat like this for a moment, before releasing the photo and picking up another, “This is Steve and I?” he asked, like it was a question.

“It looks like it,” she agreed, taking a closer look, “at Coney Island, I think. You guys look cute in that,” she admitted, noticing the young boys’ tousled hair and cheesy grins.

James hummed contently, “I remember feeling sick and forcing Steve onto the big rides and the smell of popcorn. ”He pawed through the other items with a smile on his face, pausing briefly between each thing before moving to the next.

“Would you like me to call Steve?” (Y/N) cooed, “Maybe you can stay there for the night, it’s gotta be better than what you’re doing here, Sergeant,” she added suggestively.

James shook his head solemnly in disagreement, “Steve can’t know I’m here.” He looked back to his suit, “and you really don’t have to call me Sergeant, that was a lifetime ago.” “Okay, Jame-,” (Y/N) started, earning a, rather hilarious, grumpy look from the man, “Bucky,” she finished, correcting herself. “Where do you wanna go to sleep then, Bucky?” she asked.

“The gift shop in the Hall of Mammals exhibit,” he answered swiftly, “it’s not the worst place I’ve slept,” a disdainful look filled his eyes with the statement.

“Well, unfortunately, I can’t let that happen,” she stated, genuine sympathy lacing her tone, “but you can stay at my place. My apartment has an extra room and I’m sure my Bucky wouldn’t mind.”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, “your Bucky?”

(Y/N)’s hand scratched at the back of her neck and she let out a nervous giggle, “Did I really say that out loud?” Bucky answered in a nod. “Um, my dog. His name is Bucky too. I named him after you actually, I wasn’t really lying when I said you were my hero.”

“I’m no hero,” Bucky muttered darkly, looking down to her name tag, “(Y/N), I’m horrible.”

“You’re not even giving yourself a chance,” she retorted, standing up, “and let me make my own assumptions about you, I’ve waited three days for this. Do you wanna come to mine or not?”

“The Hall of Mammals isn’t that ba-,” Bucky started, only to be cut off by (Y/N)’s playful scowl, “I guess I will stay with you,” he huffed, collecting his things and standing up.

“Oh, that’s great!” (Y/N) hummed excitedly, giving a quick jingle of her keys, “I thought I was going to have to carry you out which would have been awkward,” she added in a slow mumble.

Bucky snickered and looked freely at the halls in which he’d inhabited for the past week. “I’ve actually liked it here,” he said aloud, walking towards his mannequin.

“Maybe I’ll get you a job,” she said, digging in her bag for a keycard. “Wait,” she paused, looking at him sternly, “if you were trying to ‘remember’ yourself, why were you messing with my exhibits?”

“Oh, that?” he acknowledged, tucking the trinkets back into his suit’s pockets and turning back with a semi-devilish grin, “that, was for fun.”