#//Hannah this plane is not cool

[hannah-the-small]

@despicable-ruler​ Hannah see’s plane... planes are cool

[ranboo5]

I did also get EXCELLENT cRanboo images from the first day but I would like more time to vet and caption those; also not impossible I will be posting more Squiggles if I get perms to from involved

[tropes-and-tales]

Team Prime, Part Four

CW:  Two idiots in love; mutual pining; Bob is a unicorn of a man. Slight angst, but far less than earlier installments.

Word Count:  5227

Other pieces: This is part of a mini-series.

When the wedding weekend arrives, Bob finds himself so excited he can barely keep himself from acting like a fool.  He’s a grown man, a lieutenant in the Navy.  It wouldn’t behoove him for someone to catch him grinning like a fool or kicking his feet like an excitable child.

An entire long weekend with you, though.  Of course he’s happy.  Of course a hundred different scenarios are bouncing around his head, since weddings are so romantic by default.  He gets to spend time with you, walk into the reception with you on his arm, dance with you—

You fly in with Hannah and Eric, and Bob is the one who picks you up and drives you to the rental near the venue.  When he sees you in baggage claim, you seem unexpectedly collected.  

“How were the flying jitters?” he asks you in the car, and he’s surprised by your laughter.

“Gone!” you exclaim, and you throw up your hands, make a “poof!” gesture as if you’re a magician making something disappear.  “I haven’t been afraid to fly since…well, since we flew to Vegas, I guess.”

Bob arches a brow at you, smiles at your glee.  “Side effect of the accident?”

He hears Hannah inhale sharply from the backseat, but you ignore her.  You laugh again.

“Maybe.  Maybe getting life-flighted cured me.”  You pause, glance over and make eye contact with him.  “Or maybe I understand flight now.  You know…lift and thrust, yaw and roll…”

“You remember!”

Another laugh, and it makes his chest feel like it’s full of light to hear you so happy.  “I kinda remembered the flight to Vegas, but when I got on the plane this morning, I remembered some of the stuff you told me after all.”

“You’d told me that flight was illogical.  That humans weren’t meant to fly.”

“The wrong thing to tell a fighter pilot,” you chuckle, shaking your head. 

“Oh, I’m just a back-seater,” he clarifies as he navigates onto the freeway.  “I don’t even have a cool call sign.”

“What is it?”

“It’s, uh, Bob.”

“No, I mean, what’s your call sign?”

He winces.  He’s never wanted a cool call sign so badly in his life.  “My call sign is…Bob.”

His admission makes you erupt into fresh gales of laughter, and even if he’s the butt of the joke, it doesn’t feel mean-spirited, so he laughs too.  It is ridiculous.  

“Oh, it’s too good.  Bob Floyd, also known as Bob.”  Your laughter dies off, but then you reach out and poke him gently in his flushed cheek, and it’s so much like that day a year ago that he suddenly can’t speak for the tightness in his throat.

-----

The first evening, Thursday, everything goes perfectly.  People are trickling in from all corners of the earth, so you and Bob have a long stretch of just the two of you.  You’re in the AirBnB and he’s in a nearby hotel, but he comes over to your rental to help you fold programs over take-out.

“Team Prime, reunited,” he says, and you hold out your hand for a high-five.

Over Pad Thai and drunken noodles, the two of you catch up, though you text and talk on the phone so much, there isn’t much untrod ground.  You hesitate, then ask him how he’s feeling.

“I’m great,” he replies, a little confused at your somber tone.  “Why?”

“Well, you were engaged too.  And now you’re…not.”

He smiles down at his noodles.  “You think this wedding is going to stir up sad thoughts?”

“How could it not?”

He’s touched, as he always is, that you remember to be concerned for him.  To check in with him.  As the two of you eat, he tells you that he plans to only marry once, that marriage is for keeps with him.  That if he had married Jessica, he’d probably be miserable already. 

“And she probably would be miserable with me too,” he points out.  

“Oh, who could be miserable with you?  You’re the best,” you say, and your head is bent over your food so he can’t see your expression—and you can’t see his own expression of pleased surprise.  

He thinks this might be a side effect of your injuries.  You seem to have less guile now, less benign cunning to flirt or hide your feelings or hedge what you’re saying.  You often blurt out the truth with him, he finds.

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore,” he tells you.  “I’m good.”

-----

The next day is the rehearsal, and Bob is given a glimpse of your newfound anxiety.

He helps Eric run errands all day.  He presses the wrinkles out of his dress uniform, gets a haircut, helps ferry guests to and from the hotel.  He doesn’t get to see you until the rehearsal, and he can tell from your expression—the tight quality of your face, like you’re clenching your jaw—that you’ve had a rough day already.

He can guess that some of it is stress from the wedding, but the rest could be family related.  As he stands with Eric for the ceremony run-through, he can see how your mother fusses with you.  She keeps brushing your hair away from your face, keeps leaving her seat to whisper in your ear.  You’ve alluded to the issues with her in your endless phone chats with Bob:  how your parents have infantilized you since your accident.  How Hannah stepped in and whisked you away to southern California so that you’d have a shot of independence.

The rehearsal reaches its end, and the bridal party practices its walk back down the aisle.  Bob gets to link arms with you, and he reaches with his free hand to grasp your hand that’s lightly gripping his arm.

“How are you holding up?” he asks low near your ear.  He can feel how you’re dragging your feet a bit, slightly unsteady even in your white sneakers.

“Tired,” is all you can manage at that moment.

“Want to skip the rehearsal dinner?  Or we could get our meals to go.  I could take you back to the rental and we could eat there…”

You glance at up at him.  Your smile is lop-sided.  “I think that’d create a minor scandal, the maid-of-honor and best man disappearing.”

“Not disappearing.  Our whereabouts would be known.”

You hesitate to answer, and Bob can see that you want an out.  You’re tempted to take him up on his offer, but you want to be a good sister too…

“I think I should probably stay.  But thank you for looking out.”

Bob squeezes you hand.  “Always.”

-----

The dinner goes well.  Bob and Eric catch up, chat about Navy gossip, about deployments of mutual friends. Through it all, Bob smiles inwardly to see his friend so obviously happy.  Eric and Hannah have been together for a long while, but the love has only grown deeper through the years.  

Halfway through the meal, after Bob catches another indecipherable look from Hannah, he asks his friend what the deal is.

“She’s just protective of her sister,” Eric says.

“Protective of me?”  He’s mildly offended; he’d never knowingly hurt anyone, and he’d certainly never hurt you of all people.

Eric looks at him askance.  “No, dude.  Protective of situations that could hurt her.”  At Bob’s baffled expression, he adds, “she likes you a lot, but she thinks no one will want to date her now.”

“She likes me?”

His friend snorts.  “Yeah, she liked you before too.  She had it bad for you.  It kinda crushed her when she found out you were engaged.”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh, yeah.  You turned on that whole Bobby Floyd charm too much and she fell for you.  I guess you being engaged didn’t come up until that weekend in Vegas.”

There’s a hundred other questions Bob could ask, but all of the missing puzzle pieces fall into place in sudden, startling clarity.  Your sudden shift in mood in Vegas—after that night at the club when he told you about his engagement.  When he went on and on about Jessica…

Your decision to skip the flight back to California with him.  Your decision to rent that car and drive back. Your decision that put you on a literal collision course that nearly killed you.

What happened to you—it is his fault.

“Excuse me,” Bob manages to choke out, and he rushes out of the restaurant, makes it as far as the edge of the parking lot, then throws up from the sudden, awful realization.

-----

Hannah is the one who finds him.  

He’s outside in the parking lot, sitting on a concrete curb.  His elbows are on his knees, and his head is in his hands.  The guilt is so sharp that it feels like he’s been flayed alive, and he almost misses the sound of heels clicking on the asphalt.  He looks up in time to see your sister making her way to him, and she plops down beside him.

“You blaming yourself?” she asks without preamble.  Bob nods miserably, feels another acid burp creeping up his throat. 

“I blamed you too for a while,” she continues.  She hooks her hands around her knees, draws them up to her chest.  “When she was out of the coma but non-verbal, I just kept thinking, ‘why did she have to fall for you?’  Of all the people in the world, the two of you just clicked.  Why not some other guy?  Some guy that was available?”

“She skipped that flight to avoid me, didn’t she?”

Hannah nods.  “Mostly.  She thought driving back might clear her head.”

“If I’d known—”

“But you didn’t.  And you were engaged, so it wasn’t on you.  I stopped blaming you because of course it’s not really your fault.”

“Does she…”  He trails off, struggles to get the words out.  “Does she remember?”

“No, but we talked about it.”

“And she’s not mad?”

“At you?”  Hannah barks out a peal of laughter, then elbows him sharply in his side.  “Fuck, Bob, she could never be mad at you.”

“She should be.”

Her laughter dies off, and she sighs.  They sit in silence for a long moment, and Bob sits with his guilt. You’re not mad at him, but you’ve always been kind.  Gracious.  You should blame him.  You should be so angry that you write him off forever—

“I went to therapy, you know.  When she was in the hospital and rehab.  It helped a lot.”  Hannah offers him a rare glimpse into her usually-staunch persona.  She glances at him and shrugs.  “It’s a cliché, but dwelling in the past does no one any good, but especially not her.  She gets depressed that she has no future.”

“She’s doing so well, though.”

“Yeah, she is.  But she focuses on where she struggles and ignores how far she’s come.”

Bob nods, and Hannah gazes at him for a long beat.  She has that same inscrutable expression, but Bob understands it now.

“She doesn’t think she has a future,” she repeats.  “So I guess I’m saying, if you care for her too, she’s not going to make it easy for you.  If you’re not willing to fight for it, then you need to cut her loose gently before she gets too deep in it again.  I will not see her hurt.  Understand?”

He nods again, swallows despite his dry mouth.  “Yes, ma’am,” he manages to croak out.

*****

The dinner is a disaster insofar as your mother will not stop babying you.  You want to remind her that you graduated from college, that you have a master’s degree, that you held a good-paying job in Silicon Valley for years.  That a single bad day in the desert surely didn’t erase all of that.  

She tries to cut up your chicken piccata for you.  She presses you to drink more water.  She asks if you’ve taken your medicine for the day, if you’re getting a headache, if you need to go back to the rental to sleep.  

She asks if you’re ready for the bridal party dance, if you’re ready to give your speech.  She frets at the possibility of you embarrassing yourself, asks if maybe you should pass off the speech to someone else—

You stand up, sudden, and announce that you need some air.

Outside, you see a pair of people sitting together, and once you’re closer, you see that it’s Bob and your sister.  They look deadly serious, and Bob looks pale and sweaty.  You wonder if he is upset about his failed engagement, and though your instinct tells you to turn around and go inside, to leave them to their private moment, you find yourself walking over to them.

Hannah sees you first.  “There she is,” she calls out in a sing-song, and Bob looks up too—though he can’t quite seem to meet your eyes.

“Everything alright?” you ask.

“Of course.”  Hannah stands up, brushes off the seat of her skirt.  “Escaping from mom?”

“Of course.”

“You wanna head back to the rental?”  She turns and glances down at Bob.  “I think Lieutenant Floyd could probably handle that.”

He finally looks at you, and his eyes are glassy.  You swear he’s about to cry.  Though he doesn’t, not right now.  He swallows audibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and he says that yes, he can drive you home if you’re ready to leave.

-----

The ride is silent.  Bob is silent, which normally isn’t an issue, but there’s tension in the car.  The companionable silences the two of you typically have seems to be gone.  His pallor hasn’t improved, and he has such a death grip on the steering wheel that his knuckles are white and shiny.

At the rental, he puts the car in park, then pauses before he kills the ignition.  He climbs out of the car, and when he comes around to your side to open your door and help you out, you put a hand on his arm, tentative.  To still him.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He shakes his head, and he pulls his arm from your gentle grip, but then he turns to face you.  In the fading light, you can see how distraught he looks—his mouth a frown, his blue eyes swimming behind his thick lenses.

“How are you feeling?” he counters, ignoring your question and asking his own.

“Tired.  Nervous.”  You worry at your lower lip as you think about your mother’s fussing.  “What if I mess up the speech?  And hell, what if I mess up during the bridal party dance?”

He chuckles, and it makes his grim expression soften.  “Do you remember in Vegas, we had a dance lesson?  Trust me, we were the best dancers then, and I bet we’ll still be the best tomorrow.”

“Team Prime, huh?”

He holds out a hand for a high-five, but when you go to slap him, he captures your hand instead.  Shifts his hold like he’s about to lead you out onto a dance floor, his warm palm gently gripping yours.

“We can practice the dance, if you want.”  

“There’s no music.”

“Sure there is.  Here.”  He releases you, then pulls his phone out.  He fiddles with it, and you hear the opening strains of the song Hannah and Eric picked for the bridal party’s dance.  He turns the volume up, then sets the phone on the hood of his car.

“C’mere.”  He holds a hand out, and you can’t resist skipping over to him, taking his hand.  You settle your other hand on his shoulder, and your stomach does its usual fluttery flip-flop when he puts his free hand on your waist and draws you closer.

“See?  You’re already doing better than before.”  His soft voice is low, right by your ear.  “You kept trying to lead.  The instructor had to set you straight.  You told me it was an affront to feminism that you had to follow me.”

You laugh.  “I don’t remember that.”

“Hmm.  Convenient.”

He leads you in an easy circle, slow and steady.  More swaying than actual waltzing, but you think it probably looks okay.  You stumble once or twice, you step on his foot…but being in his arms calms your anxiety, and you feel some of your angst about tomorrow melt away.

The song ends but then repeats, and Bob doesn’t release you.  He keeps leading you in that easy circle in the driveway, and halfway through the second attempt, he clears his throat and glances down at you.

“I’m sorry about Vegas,” he says.

“It happened.”  You shrug in his arms.  “The more time passes, the less angry I am.”

“I’d probably be angry forever.”

“You?  No, I don’t think so.  You’re too good to wallow in bad feelings for long.”

He sighs, and that close, you can feel it fanning over you.  “You give me more credit then I deserve, honey.”

Honey.  Sometimes when the two of you talk on the phone, when he seems comfortable or tired enough for his faint midwestern drawl to surface, he calls you different pet names.  Sweetheart.  Honey.  Every time, it makes you feel all light and airy, like you could float away.

“I give you exactly as much credit as you deserve,” you reply.

He grumbles good-naturedly but doesn’t respond.  The song repeats a third time, then a fourth, and he doesn’t let you go once—he only turns you in lazy circles, keeps you tucked close to him.

*****

In the course of planning for his own wedding that never happened, Bob was told time and again by vendors, by friends and family—hired a good photographer, because the day flies by so fast, there’s no way to remember everything.

He finds that even when it isn’t his own wedding, the same applies.

The morning is a blur that he won’t remember in the days and weeks to follow.  He runs last-minute errands for Eric.  He showers, shaves.  He dresses in his carefully-pressed dress uniform, and he wonders idly if you’re the type of woman who likes a man in uniform.  Jessica told him once that the white Navy uniforms made him look like an ice cream truck driver.

His first real, tangible memory that he’ll revisit over and over?  When he finally gets to see you again.  

You don’t see him just yet.  You walk in with your sisters, a bustle of female activity and chattering, but he zeros in on you:  in your navy blue dress, your matching canvas sneakers.  The single white flower pinned in your hair.

You’ve always been beautiful to him, before and after.  You’re beautiful now, but there’s something insecure in your bearing—the way you walk so carefully, the way your shoulders are drawn up by your ears—that makes him want to run over to you, wrap his arm around you.  He wants to protect you from world, keep anyone who might gawk at your scars or your unsteady gait far away from you.

He knows he loves you.  He knows it to the marrow of his bones.  He’s laid awake many nights, turning it over and over in his head.  With Jessica, it hadn’t been certainty as much as habit:  his girlfriend from middle school, they just fell into the habit of being together.  He considers it a blessing that they realized their growing detachment when they did.

You, though?  He knows it’s love.  He’s certain.  He knows that there’s challenges.  You get headaches easily.  You can’t drive yet.  You have an overbearing mother who wants to protect you too.  You have various therapies to help you regain what you’ve lost.

But the real challenge is what both Hannah and Eric said:  you think your romantic life is over.  You only see yourself as a broken thing, not someone worth loving.

If you’re not willing to fight, Hannah had warned him.  People may look at him and see an unassuming man.  With his thick-lensed glasses and baby-face, Bob Floyd puts no one in mind of a fighter…and yet, he’s exactly that.  

He’s ready to fight you, for the sake of being with you.

-----

The ceremony flies by.  Bob finds that he can’t quite tear his eyes from you.  You make it down the aisle without tripping (he catches your visible sigh of relief once you’re by your sister’s side), and you manage your duties—taking your sister’s bouquet, straightening out her veil—with aplomb.  It’s Bob who messes up, fumbles the rings, drops them with a clatter onto the small dais.

But then…then, after the couple are married and share their first kiss as husband and wife, Bob gets to offer you his arm and walk down the aisle with you.  He gets an entire hour with you and the wedding party for all the photographs.

Hannah and Eric, subtle as bombs, make sure the photographer gets one of just you and Bob, and your sister drops him that cool gaze of hers that he now understands.

“You okay?” you ask as the two of you are posed by the photographer.  Your voice has a teasing lilt to it.  “I think the videographer caught the ring drop on camera.”

“Oh, that was intentional,” he jokes.   “Yeah?”

“I didn’t want you to be the only one worrying today.  I also plan on tripping into the cake at the reception.”

You laugh, and you do your signature move—you poke him gently in the cheek.  That’s the shot the photographer gets, the moment right after:  neither of you looking at the camera, each of you looking at each other with obvious affection.  It’s the photo that Bob will eventually save as his phone’s lock screen, once Eric sends it to him with the winking emoji.

It’s the photo he’ll look at when he’s on an aircraft carrier, months from now, about to carry out an extremely dangerous mission with an uncertain outcome.  It will be a tangible reminder that he needs to survive, he needs to get home to you.

-----

At the reception, your speech goes better than you probably thought it would.  You do stutter, a bit, but Bob doubts anyone really notices.  He knows you do, though.  When you finish and sit back down, he sees how you drop your head, how you bite your lip.

So he’s does what he planned to do.  He starts his speech, then drops his small stack of index cards.  He spends a long beat putting them back in order.  He makes a joke, asks the assembled guests if they feel safe knowing his steady hands are on the weapons systems of billion dollar fighter jets, and it earns him a good laugh.

It also earns him grateful smile from you.

Then comes the dance.  It feels so natural after last night.  He took you through it five times, ostensibly to make you comfortable but as much for how it felt to hold you and dance with you without everyone watching.

“I know you dropped your index cards on purpose,” you murmur as he leads you across the dance floor.  A beat, and you add, “thank you.”

“I don’t know what you mean, honey.”

You snort.  “Oh, so Bob Floyd is a shameless liar now.  You’re not the man I remember from before.”

“I thought you didn’t remember me from before.  Sounds like you’re the shameless liar.”

You cluck your tongue in mock disappointment.  “It’s such a happy day.  Why are we fighting about who’s the bigger liar?”

“Is that what this is?  Fighting?”

“Yup.”

He pulls you closer.  “I think I like fighting with you.”

You don’t reply, but you tilt your head up to look at him, and your expression is so much like your sister’s—slightly narrowed eyes, studious, cool.  

-----

He decided last night to talk to you at the reception.  After dinner, after the speeches and first dances.  After the cake-cutting when Hannah and Eric cut into it with his ceremonial saber (“Overkill,” you whisper to Bob, making him chuckle).

Once the lights dim and the dance floor fills, Bob finds you.  He takes your hand and leads you outside, and it’s almost as if the universe is conspiring with him because the night is perfect.  Balmy with a cool breeze, a perfect crescent moon hanging low in the sky.  A million stars.  

“Take a little walk with me?” he asks, and you nod.  

He scouted the place out earlier.  He leads you now to a small arbor with a bench under it, and the two of you sit.  He turns to face you, and he takes your hand in his own.

“I had a whole speech in my head,” he starts, “but I’m drawing a blank now.”

“A speech about what?”  

“I l-like you,” he stammers.  “I liked you before.  I shouldn’t have because I was unavailable, but I did.  And then…well, you had your accident, and in the meanwhile, my engagement fell apart.  And when you came back in my life and I was free to have feelings for you, I…I fell for you.”

“Oh.  Oh, Bob, I don’t—”

“Let me finish.  Please.”  He squeezes you hand.  You look stunned, but you finally nod for him to continue.

“Maybe you don’t believe me, and that’s okay.  I just want a chance to prove it to you.  How I feel.  I’m not…I’m not great at this stuff, but I know how I feel about you.  I fell for you.  I’m in l-love with you, honey.  And I just want a chance.  That’s all I’m asking for.”

She’s not going to make it easy for you, Hannah told him, and she was half-right.  You do fight him here—you shake your head, you start to list out reasons why you can’t be with him—but Bob finds that it’s an easy victory in the end.  You don’t put up that much of a fight.

“Make a list,” he cuts in gently.  “Make a list of all the reasons why we can’t be together, and we’ll work through them together.”

That earns him a smile.  “A list?”

“I’m a WSO in the Navy,” he points out reasonably.  “I’m used to tackling problems logically.”

“So I’m a problem?”

He moves closer to you and loops an arm around your shoulders.  He pulls you against him, and he chances a near-kiss, his cheek pressed against your hair. 

“No, you’re a menace, but I love you all the same.”

The words just slip out, unintentional.  His heart is thudding so loud in his chest that he almost misses it entirely—your shaky exhale, and your own mournfully whispered “I love you too.”

*****

With Hannah and Eric on their way to their honeymoon, the brunch the next morning is a sedate affair.  Most of the bridal party is hungover and half skip it altogether.  Your parents, blessedly, left early to beat the traffic.  You’d hate for your mom to be hovering as you present your list to Bob.

The man himself settles right beside you at brunch, and you get the same butterflies you always do.  He hardly seems real.  He’s too kind, too perfect.  You know he’s not naturally extroverted, yet he made himself the butt of the joke at the reception to take the attention off of you.  Before that, practicing the dance the night before.  And before that, just him, being perfectly, wonderfully Bob.

You want nothing more than to say yes.  To be with him.  To even try.  You love him too, yet isn’t it the truest sort of love to set someone free?  

“You have your list?” he asks once the waitress brings your drinks.  “Let me see it.”

You stayed up most of the night to list out every conceivable reason why you can’t be with him, yet when you hand over the piece of paper, Bob only nods and reads it over as he sips at his coffee.

He doesn’t call you ridiculous.  He only addresses it point by point.

“Number one.  Therapy.”  He glances at you.  “That’s vague.”

“I have multiple therapists.  A lot of appointments.”

“So?”

“So…people feel a certain way about therapy sometimes.  They judge.”

“I don’t.”  He reaches into his breast pocket, pulls out a pen, strikes a line through number one.  “Okay, number two…”

Back and forth.  He reads through your list and shoots down every reason as you eat your eggs and he eats his waffles.  He teases you gently, but he never makes you feel bad about it.

“Okay, so number twelve.  Children.”  That earns you an arched brow, and his cheeks tinge with pink.  “Eager to get me into bed?”

You own face burns in embarrassment.  Of course you’ve entertained the idle (and not so idle) thought of what it’d be like to sleep with Bob, but you can’t admit that over brunch. 

“We should follow out the natural progression of relationships.  Marriage, kids.  There’s a very real chance I can’t have kids.  Any pregnancy would be high-risk, and I—”

“So follow out the progression.  We get married, we don’t have kids.  Or we adopt or foster.  Or we become that couple in the neighbor who adopts old dogs to give them a good life in their elderly years.”

Your hands tremble at how easy he makes it sound.  How easy it could be.  Thing is, you can picture it:  you and Bob married, childless, but happy.  Maybe with a house of old dogs as he said, the house full of dog beds and old shelter dogs with white faces lazing in the sun, the two of you taking slow walks with them, enjoying the evenings together…

You set your fork down and fold your hands in your lap.  “You’re being glib.”

“I promise I’m not.”  He looks at you in earnest, his blue eyes wide.  “There’s nothing on this list that’s scaring me away.  Like…”  He glances down, revisits number four.  “Unsteady hands.  You really think your struggles with threading a zipper is that big of a deal-breaker?”

You sigh and turn to face him more directly.  “Bob, you’re career military.  I know what that means, okay?  Follow the progression.  Military wives…there’s a lot of pressure there.  I wouldn’t be able to support you the way you’d need.”

He chuckles, shakes his head.  “What do you think you’ve been doing for the past few months?  When you talk to me on the phone every night and cheer me up after a rough day?  That’s support, honey.  That’s all I need.”

You stare back at him, half-mesmerized by his gaze.  His eyes are so wide behind his thick lenses, he looks comically bug-eyed.  It’s hard enough to not smile, but then he starts nodding at you encouragingly, obviously trying to sway you.  

“Say yes,” he pleads quietly.  “Say yes.  We can take is as slow as you want.  But just say yes.”

How can you resist him?  You can’t, so you decide not to even try.  You fell for him before, and you lost your memories but fell for him again.  You’ve never believed in fate or destiny or soulmates, but that has to mean something—falling for the same man twice, in two separate, very different epochs of your life.

“Okay.”  You nod back, mimicking him.  “Okay.  Yes.”

[achungarchive]

Today I'm Wearing: Alexa For AG

Photos by Nick Hudson

( published for British Vogue in 2015 )

"I'm headed to the airport to fly to NYC. I like to wear inappropriate airport clothes - when you fly too much you start dying of boredom, airport outfits is about as exciting as the day of travel gets. Today I'm channelling my inner Liz Hurley in off-white jeans from my AG line. There's something rebellious about wearing white on a plane. I love studying strangers boarding flights and so I want to in turn look like a character. The jacket someone gave me in Milan when I told her I liked it. This has never happened to me before. In Starbucks a girl said "I like your jacket" and I replied "I said that once and a very generous woman gave it to me" then I looked at her and continued "if I were nice I would pay the gift forward to you but it's SO COLD". She walked off.

"I love this Shrimps bag. I think Hannah Weiland is so very clever with that brand. It's fun and cool and clever - everything British fashion is about. The dress is AC for AG and was originally going to be a coat but then I realised it was for summer so we slimmed down the structure and shortened it! I'm most proud of our buttons, they make me happy every time I look at them."

I'm at the Sunset Tower for a few days in LA filming something for the launch of my collection with AG wearing a Topshop coat, Zanzan sunglasses, AC for AG skinny jeans and Vivienne Westwood shoes. I've had this Marc Jacobs bag for years and I love it. It's so tiny I can only fit three things in it so I have to choose wisely. Today I forgot lip balm."

(description not on website as of june 2022)

"The top is a dress I bought at Patricia Field in New York when I was looking for a Halloween costume. I love the idea of snazzy sequins with something more relaxed like these dark navy dungarees that I made for AG. We spent a long time perfecting the fit. They're high waisted and close to the body. Sexy dungarees may be an oxymoron but I think we managed to revamp them into something more chic and elegant."

[suckitsurveys]

What name do you go by most often? Hannah.

Have you ever played Geoguessr? Yes, I love that game. Mark and I play together a lot. It drops you off in a random place on Google Maps and you have to figure out where you are based on landmarks and streets and stuff. It’s pretty cool.

How many times have you been to a Disney theme park? Zero.

Are there any live plants in the room with you? Yes, there is an amaryllis and an aloe plant.

Did you grow up with your cousins, first or otherwise? Yeah, I grew up with my first cousin Kelly’s kids mostly. We spent a lot of summers together when we were all little.

Who is your favorite That 70′s Show character, if you have one? Jackie.

What color is your hair? It’s kind of a brassy blonde right now. It needs to be dyed so bad.

Can you see any type of flag from where you are? I can see a pride flag sticker on my cabinet.

Do you eat shellfish? What is your favorite? Yes. I LOVE most shellfish but my favorite is crab.

What’s your favorite theme song to a TV show/cartoon? Oh wow, there’s so many good ones out there it’s hard to choose. BoJack is always up there though.

Are your nails painted? What color? They still have bits of purple on them. I need to get them done so bad too.

What is your favorite way to eat chicken? With my mouth. Hah. I prefer in tender/strip/finger/popcorn/nugget/boneless wing form. Also in taco form.

Can you name all the major sports teams in your city/state? Bulls, Cubs, Bears, Blackhawks, White Sox, Fire.

Do you use a comb or a hairbrush or both? Mostly just a hairbrush.

What was the last movie you watched? I can’t remember actually. It’s been a bit since I watched a movie.

Have you ever seen BoJack Horseman? Oh yes. It’s my favorite show of all time.

What color is your house/building? It’s a weird yellowy-tan.

Do you know the middle name of the person you last talked to in person? I do. It’s Alan. I know this only because it used to be on all his outgoing emails.

What is today’s date? How many days til your birthday? It’s June 15. There’s about 2 and 1/2 months til my birthday

When is the last time you had Starbucks? Monday.

What is your favorite number? Does it have to do with a specific date? 24. It was the day my cousin was born, the day Mark asked me out, the day we got married, the day my niece was born, and the day my kitty was born. All in different months/years, of course.

Do you watch SNL? Who are your favorite cast members? Oh yessssss. I used to watch it with my parents every time it was on and then I stopped for a while but I got back into it recently. I have SO many favorites man. So many amazing people came from that show. Lemme try to narrow it down to 10? Lol. A mix of all time favorite and current favorites: Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Bill Hader, Andy Samberg, Pete Davidson, Molly Shannon, Cecily Strong, Seth Meyers, Aidy Bryant, Michael Longfellow.  Yeah I’ll go with those but there are SO many more lol.

What color is your phone? The phone itself is blue. My case is pink.

Do you have any siblings? Yeah, an older sister.

How many hours of sleep do you get a night? Never enough.

What did you have for lunch? I brought a salad I’ll eat later.

Favorite streaming service? They all have their perks lol.

Who is your favorite Pokemon? I’m basic af but Pikachu.

Do you like soup? What kinds? I do. I love a good bisque haha.

When was the last time you flew on a plane? In February.

What is your favorite movie Paul Rudd has been in? Wet Hot American Summer and Clueless.

What room of your house (or otherwise) are you in? I am in my office at work.

What style of pizza do you prefer (thin crust, stuffed crust, deep dish, detroit style, etc)? I love a good thin crust tavern style that’s really saucy and cheesy. I also like deep dish.

Can you see your favorite animal from where you are sitting? (on an article of clothing, a figurine, a stuffed animal, etc...maybe even alive?) I have 3 favorite animals and I can see all of them in one way or another. Cats: picture of my cats, some cat magnets, a cat figure above my computer, and a cat mug. Bats: several bat cut outs on the wall by me, bat lights above my computer, a bat planter, a neon bat light, a wooden bat figure. Pandas: i have a litte panda plush on my desk, a magnet with a panda on it, and panda sticky notes.

Do you know how to play the card game Skip-Bo? Yes, I love Skip-Bo.

What was the last museum you went to? The Museum of Science and Industry. Wait, no. An art museum when I was in Boston.

What was the last celebrity gossip you got sucked into? Anything involving Pete Davidson ahahaha. The last thing was his whole voicemail he left to PETA and that whole bullshit.

Do you own any merch from concerts/comedy shows/broadway shows, etc? Oh yes. I always try to buy something from any thing I see live if there’s stuff available. The last thing I purchased was a totebag and a sticker from the Tina Fey and Amy Poehler Restless Leg Tour.

What was the last thing to annoy you? Work.

Who is your favorite comedian? John Mulaney.

What are some names you like that start with the first letter of your name? Harriet, Hattie, Henry, Harlow, Harris.

When is the next time you’ll be in a pool or body of water? Hopefully Monday!!!

[the-firebird69]

Watch "Van Morrison - Domino (Live) (from..It's Too Late to Stop Now...Film)" on YouTube

Is a lake at the top of Hemet that's where she was because they brought the enola gay to Hemet while our son was there trying to bomb our people in the Midwest and that's why he left he found out about it now the planes are a little but they believed everybody a little find out she's not to blame and they know it was a stupid idea but they're trying to pretend they were Japanese and it was the idiots trying to get power and their own people said screw you and it's been going on for a while. And Trump tried to save her or Dan you think it's Dan and the girl is not Sarah believe it or not it's Alicia. And our son saw her before she left and she was huge but the James Bond is filming in different place and above a different lake this is a moment in history he says she was saved by the lake it was so supposed to condemn me and God said what are you talking about it says I think it's Hamid cuz that's the only place he had a gay would be that I can think of and he's talking about her and it's cooler it elevation believe it or not in California and gets cool early even during the afternoon there's a Santa Anna wins rhymes with Rosanna Hannah. so you went out there with a tear in his eye to try and find her and he found a plane and it was in Hemet and he went down and he looked up along the ridge and he's tried to scan and he was blocked and he went lower scanned and found her now this time it's real hold her out it was rejuvenator and he said how did you survive said that became a storm and there was an updraft and it was Jason and he doesn't necessarily want her in charge of the social security no but if he let it go he'd be in trouble and she's okay then if that's in fact where it was but really it sounds like it might be although they have plenty of times and reasons to move the anola gay

We do see it ok

Olympus

[rottmntliberation]

PLEASE when you have the time tell us about your oc's and hc including about lego monke kid i would love to hear it too!!

KWAAAAAA OKAY OKAY OKAY

So so so

I have a Rise OC I rlly rlly love, her name's Akahana (goes by Hana or Hannah depending on the crowd)

She's a half Japanese water-dragon yokai, half American NYC human. Because she's only half yokai she doesn't get cool mystic powers BUT her father has a mystic needle he fixed into a tattoo gun, and basically, whatever he tattoos kind of gains self-awareness and life in the 2-d plane. Even tho Hana's only 16 she has two golden dragon tattoos winding down each arm, but because they're tattooed by her father, they can come to life and slither around her body as well as jump from her hands to be used as weapons!! I imagine them wrapping their tails around her wrists and extending themselves off her fingers to either be used as swords, chains or weights. They both have distinct personalities and kinda go all glowy-cool when in use

AND THEY LIKE TO CHOMP they're very silly their names are Fuji (the calm one) and Tatsu (the batshit one)

I'll have to draw her sometime to show you guys BUT BASICALLY

Hana is more of an anti-hero/vigilante who fights for mutant and yokai rights

On the surface she's seen as weird or abnormal bc of her sharp teeth and patches of scales on her knees, elbows, and shoulders, but on the other hand she's also not seen as a "real yokai" and basically she thinks that's dumb so she likes to hang with the city mutants after dark

BUT ANYWAYS THIS IS GETTING LONG AND I SUCK AT WRITING SO IMMA STOP HERE THANK YOU SO MUCH

- Mod April 🍑

[the-letter-horror-lover]

Inertia Creeps

Cennis

Summary:

If everyone but you believes you're mad, who is wrong? Ciel Phantomhive, patient D18, is not mad. Sebastian Michaelis, new orderly at St. Victoria's Asylum, agrees. Eventual light Sebastian x Ciel, AU.

Notes:

ArgentNoelle made a cool as fuck trailer for the fic, thank you so much!!: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AWx-TzynuCs

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

۞

Chapter One

۞

Dust billowed in the scorching air, the sun raining down mercilessly upon the packed dig site. The archaeologists sped around from section to section of the small land, the excitement positively tangible. Every person on the site was grinning from ear to ear as discovery after discovery was unearthed, and each of their pay-cheques got that little bit fatter.

All except for one.

Sebastian Michaelis was bored.

Sebastian Michaelis, the man who was single-handedly unearthing each of the awe-inspiring discoveries, was bored.

Sebastian Michaelis, who may very well have become a millionaire over the last three weeks, was so mind-numbingly bored that the second his watch alarm went off signalling the end of his shift, he cast aside his brushes and left the dig site without a single look back.

He'd been so excited, at first. Archaeology, something he'd never tried his hand at before, something new, something interesting... for the first five minutes. Digging all day under the hot desert sun, being choked with dust and debris, all over some poxy little bones that belonged to some ancient three-legged rat that obviously hadn't been able to run fast enough.

As you may have guessed, for Sebastian Michaelis, the novelty wore off fast.

That was true for any job the man had ever had, however.

His first job, fresh from high school and rearing to go, had been a simple shop clerk role. A nine to five kind of thing. Getting tired of that was perfectly reasonable, especially for a man of many talents such as him. He found out early in life that he could get pretty much any job he wanted as soon as his application was seen. Unfortunately, every job he wanted tended to get tedious awfully fast. Builder, plumber, blacksmith, lion tamer, waiter, candlestick maker, nothing could keep him interested, and as soon as he felt even a smidgen of boredom, his two weeks notice was handed in. Usually met with sobbing and begs of not leaving, but handed in none-the-less.

Sebastian fancied he'd discovered his problem. Every job he was going for was too flashy, too obvious. He hated flashy, he hated obvious. So, desperation seeping in, Sebastian went to the most level-headed person he knew.

Agni.

Agni and he went way back. They'd met in high school, become fast friends and even went to college together, sharing a dorm room. Then Agni had gotten some obscure job and disappeared off the face of the planet. Luckily, he still sent annual Christmas cards to Sebastian, rather cute considering he didn't even celebrate the holiday, and had given an address.

It had only taken a week to hear back from St. Victoria's Hospital, though that didn't surprise Sebastian, and within two days he'd packed up his life from the small Soho apartment and was on a plane to England.

“Mr. Sebastian Michaelis?”

Stepping out of the airport, Sebastian looked for the source of the voice, and met the eyes of a tall, tan woman waving him over.

“That's me.” He gave his usual charming smile, amused but not surprised as pink flooded her cheeks. She offered her hand.

“My name is Hannah Anafeloz, I'm a nurse at St. Victoria's. I've come to pick you up,” she stated meekly, as though reciting a well-practised line, eyes looking everywhere but at his. Sebastian shook her hand, holding on to it for longer than necessary if only to see her squirm, before she led him towards her car.

The ride from central London to whatever obscure location the hospital was at was more exhausting than the plane ride. Endless fields of green and sheep darted by the window for three hours straight, like the animation budget had run out, and Hannah was apparently incapable of driving a car and conversing at the same time, two mangled fences and a missing wing-mirror evidence to that. This job wasn't shaping up to being a boredom-killer so far, though that may have just been England's influence. He'd always found the country rather lacking in excitement.

He must have dozed off at some point, one minute the sun barely risen and the next it was high in the sky, noon.

“We're here, Mr. Michaelis,” Hannah said, climbing out of the car. Blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Sebastian got out of the car too, almost treading on a spectacularly small man under his feet. He apologised, catching himself before he stumbled, but the little man just chuckled, grasping Sebastian's hand tightly.

“Welcome to St. Victoria's, Mr. Michaelis. I am Tanaka, one of the Chairmen of the Institute.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tanaka. Thank you for taking me on so quickly. I won't let you down,” the usual speech, Sebastian almost struggling to actually make it sound sincere. Tanaka's grip on his hand tightened almost painfully.

“Letting me down will get you killed, I'm afraid, so make sure you don't,” he chortled before tottering towards the big oak doors. Sebastian wasn't sure whether to laugh or not. Was that a joke?

“I apologise over the mysteriousness of the situation, Mr. Michaelis. Standard procedure, I'm sure you understand. You will be living in this building, an old dormitory, with the other members of staff. I'll show you to your lodgings first, then a tour of the place seems fitting, hmm?”

It was a question, but Sebastian was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to give an answer.

The building was like some horror-movie cliché, with it's long draughty hallways, dark and dreary colours, everything coated in dust and looking like it hadn't been touched since the Victorian ages.

Working here was becoming less and less appealing. Sure, he'd been looking for something unflashy and unobvious, but this was just ridiculous.

A dozen hallways and several flights of stairs later, the two came to a stop.

“This is your room. We supply the necessities, any luxuries you'll have to acquire yourself. Unfortunately the rooms are adjoined, but I doubt you'll have to worry about anything. We're all respectful of privacy here.”

Tanaka dropped a key into Sebastian's palm.

“Inside you'll find your key-pass. With it, you'll be able to open any door in the institute, though bear in mind that all uses of it are recorded by the system.”

Sebastian nodded, luckily taking in the information load.

“There's something I need to attend to for a little while, so why don't you get to know your colleagues? I'll be back shortly.”

As soon as the little man tottered off, Sebastian entered his room, and blanched.

Well, it certainly wasn't The Plaza, that was for sure.

No bigger than the closet back at his old apartment, the room was bare apart from the rickety-looking desk, god-only-knows how old bed and minuscule cupboard. The faded wallpaper was torn in more places that in wasn't, revealing petrified wood. There were two other doors besides the one he'd come in through, presumably to his colleagues' rooms, and Sebastian noted that neither appeared to have a lock on them.

What was that Tanaka had said about privacy?

With a sigh, he resigned himself to his fate, and begun unpacking the bags that had somehow beaten him to the room. Being a traveller, Sebastian never really bothered with 'luxuries' as the man called them, taking only things like clothes. He had a few random books too, but apart from those, he was travelling lightly this time. A good thing, considering how little room he had to work with here.

It didn't take him long to get settled into the room, little over a half hour, so bracing himself for the worst, Sebastian knocked on the closest of the two doors.

The worst was exactly what he got.

No sooner had his fist met the wood did the door swing open, and if Sebastian had been a man with slower reflexes, he'd have been minus a head.

Crimson eyes wide, Sebastian turned to look at the thing impaled in his wall, mouth opening in surprise. A knife?

“You must be the new person,” a sharp voice noted from inside the other room, footsteps coming towards the open door.

A man not much shorter than him strode into the room, striking hazel eyes fixing him with a glare. He plucked the embedded knife from the wall with ease, using the blade to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Sebastian blinked at the expectant man, weighing the chances of losing a digit if he offered his hand.

“Yes, I'm Sebastian Michaelis. You are?” He tried not to sound shirty, but the guy had nearly done a Sweeney Todd on him. Not exactly a great first impression.

Apparently he wasn't making a great one either, as the man's eyes narrowed further.

“William T. Spears. You may call me Mr. Spears. Now that the pleasantries are over,” Sebastian really didn't want to see the man when he was being unpleasant then, “there are some ground rules you need to make yourself familiar with. Firstly, you do not enter my room. Don't even knock. Secondly, you do not touch my things. I do not like people touching my things. Thirdly, on the chance that the two of us have a shift together, you will arrive at the exact time specified. I do not like to be made to wait. Fourthly-”

“Geez, Will~ Which poor unfortunate are you lecturing now?” Another voice cut through the rant, a very unwelcome one if the look on Mr. Spears', Will's, face was any indication.

“I am not lecturing! Merely making myself clear to avoid any unnecessary disputes,” Will snapped to the redhead sauntering into the room through the other door.

The complete opposite to Will, the new man... woman... person flashed Sebastian a grin. Not so much a welcome to the neighbourhood! grin as a sleep with one eye open! one. Flaming red hair fell to their waist, matching the rest of the red they were wearing, and not that Sebastian was one to judge, but somehow he doubted that their hair was all that was flaming. It may have had something to do with the way the man, definite lack of a rack there, swung his hips as he walked, or tossed his hair over his shoulder, or punctuated each statement he made with a wink.

Or it may have been the ass-pinching.

Yeah, probably the ass-pinching.

Before Sebastian had a chance to punch the guy into next week, he danced out of the way with a giggle.

“Ooh, fresh meat! And a handsome bit at that~ How do you do, I'm Grell Sutcliffe, and if you need anything, and I mean anything, just ask.”

Twitching at the blatant come-on, Sebastian plastered on his business smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Sutcliffe, I'll bear that in mind-”

“Oh please, Sebby, just Grell is fine!”

“...Alright. Grell. I prefer to be called Sebasti-”

“Ooh! I'll introduce you to the others!”

Sebastian could almost see the sheer amount of punctuation marks as the other spoke.

Before he could decline, Grell had attached himself to Sebastian's arm and was pulling him out of the room with a lot more strength than he looked to have.

It took all of five minutes for the annoyance with Grell that would last Sebastian's entire stay at St. Victoria's to be borne. It took the same amount of time for Grell to decide that he wanted Sebby to be his babies' daddy, despite Sebastian's insistence of common sense and science.

When Grell said others, he really only meant two people, since there had only been four Orderlies to begin with. Grell, Will and Agni being three of them. The fourth was a youthful man by the name of Ronald Knox who was clad in identical glasses to Grell and Will and was too busy flirting with the receptionist to learn more than Sebastian's name. To his annoyance, the boy was calling him Sebby too.

That was going to have to stop.

Then Grell had dragged him to meet Agni.

“Sebastian!” The white-haired man had pulled him into a hug, which Sebastian returned despite Grell's pouting, beaming. “I didn't know you'd be arriving so soon!”

“The sooner the better, I figured. You look well, Agni.” Sebastian smiled, a rare genuine one, as he looked over his friend. The man hadn't been faring too well the last time they'd seen each other, shortly before Agni had been hired here, exhausted and the weight dropping from him.

“Thank you. Have you found your room yet?” Agni pulled him over to a table, both ignoring Grell who was whining about being ostracised.

“Yes. I'm already unpacked. They're rather...”

Agni chuckled.

“Basic? Mmm. I knew they'd be different to what you're accustomed to. You'll get used to it soon enough, though. It's just a place to rest your head, really.”

“...You never mentioned in your letters that the staff were mental too.”

“Oh dear. What happened?”

“Well, I was almost skewered, then violated by someone who wants me to bear his children... or he wants to bear mine... It wasn't clear. If this is what the staff are like then the patients will be a breeze.”

“You haven't met the psychiatrists yet,” Agni laughed.

۞

An hour later, Sebastian could see just what Agni meant.

Tanaka had come to fetch him from the dining hall he'd been with Agni in, his business apparently taken care of, and the tour began. They left the boarding house and went to the actual building . First they'd gone to meet the Head Orderlies, Sebastian's direct superiors, and the experience was not a promising one. For reasons he couldn't pin down, Sebastian couldn't stand the two of them. They'd not so much as said their names, Ash and Angela, when Sebastian decided there was just something about the two he didn't like.

To be fair, if the looks he was getting from the two were any clue, it was a very mutual feeling.

After a tense and all together awkward induction, Sebastian was relieved to be led out of the shared office.

The next meetings weren't that bad, to be fair. Tanaka took him to the Infirmary, where he introduced him Doctor (whether that was his name or not, Sebastian had no clue, but that was all they called him). Sebastian was relieved to find that, unlike most of the staff he'd met so far, Doctor actually seemed sane, which is always a good thing. A very amiable man, confined to a wheelchair but clearly not bothered by the fact, who was very passionate about his job. Along with him were his aides, a set of triplets named Cantebury, Thompson and Timber, and Hannah, the woman who'd picked him up from the train station.

Unfortunately, the meeting after that did nothing to reaffirm Sebastian's suspicions of whether the staff were secretly patients, and this was all some big test before he actually got the job.

Tanaka took him to the psychiatrists wing of the building, informing him along the way that unfortunately the Head Psychiatrist, Claude Faustus, was with patients all afternoon, and sent his greetings.

There were three other psychiatrists, however.

The first was a man by the name Charles Grey. He was a boyish-looking man, with a plastered on smile and a sharp, if not rather sarcastic, wit. Their entire meeting he'd been grinning, yet somehow managing to still look at him like he was a bug crawling along the man's freshly-cleaned floor.

One of the other men was also called Charles, Charles Phipps. Apparently they went by their last names to avoid confusion. He was polar-opposite to the other Charles, tall where the other was small, quiet where the other was loud, stoic where the other was hot-tempered.

The third and final person was probably the oddest of them all. Barely looking old enough to be out of school, never mind working at an asylum, John Brown was a middle-ground between Grey and Phipps. Calm, though not exactly poker-faced, and seemingly very polite. At least until the handpuppet came out. The handpuppet, apparently called Albert, that, according to John, had taken a very big dislike to Sebastian, and constantly insulted him the entire time he was in the office.

The staff sanity debate aside, Sebastian was more than a little concerned that people's mental health were in the hands of those three. He could only hope that Claude Faustus had more marbles rolling around in his head than them.

Relief flooding through him when Tanaka told him that the tour was pretty much over lasted as long as it took for the explosion beneath them to hit.

“Ah! Of course! I almost forgot to introduce you to our chef.”

If that wasn't foreboding, Sebastian didn't know what was.

When they got down to the kitchens, they were on fire, but this didn't seem to be anything new. A tall man coated in ash was wrestling with a fire extinguisher, cursing loudly as he tried to pry the nozzle free.

“Bardroy? Have you got a minute?” Tanaka asked as though there wasn't a raging fire where Sebastian was pretty sure an oven was supposed to be and... was that a flame-thrower in the corner? That explained so much yet so little.

The man, Bardroy, looked up from his battle with the inanimate object and flashed them a grin, cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth.

“Sure thing, boss! What's up?”

“I'd like to introduce you to our new member of staff, Sebastian Michaelis. He'll be joining the Orderlies. Mr. Michaelis, this is Bardroy, the Institute's Chef.”

“Hey! Nice to meetcha, Sebastian. Call me Bard, everyone does,” the ash-coated blond said, outstretching his hand. Sebastian accepted the hand, returning the man's smile.

“A pleasure, Bard.”

“B-Bard! The alarms going off!” a high-pitched voice exclaimed, a redheaded woman stumbling into the room. A petit blond boy jogged after her, blue eyes wide.

“Whoa, big fire today.”

Sebastian cocked a brow. So this was a daily occurrence?

“Good timing. Guys, this is Sebastian, the new blood. Sebastian, this is Finny, the Gardener, and Meirin, the Housekeeper.”

The little blond, Finny, beamed. Meirin, on the other hand, took one look at Sebastian, all the blood in her body rushing to her face, and promptly collapsed.

Watching the commotion going on in front of him, Bard resuming his battle with the fire extinguisher as said fire continued to blaze, Finny prodding the unconscious woman, and Tanaka watching on with a chuckle, Sebastian decided that he'd been right before. If the staff were like this, how bad could the patients be?

۞

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

۞

Chapter Two

۞

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, warming his face. His alarm clock continued it's monotonous beeping, but he just couldn't be bothered to hit the snooze button. His bed was far too cosy, and there was a comfortable warmth pressed up against his back, an arm hanging loosely over his waist, that made it clear he'd had an enjoyable night. He must have picked her up from a club... though... he couldn't remember going to a club the night before. In fact... surely there were no night clubs in the English countryside-

“Mmm, your sleeping face is adorable, Sebby~”

…

“Argh!”

Sebastian's eyes snapped open, leg shooting out to expel the unwelcome intruder from his bed. Grell crashed to the floor in a blur of red.

“Don't be so cold...”

“What the hell are you doing in my bed?!” Sebastian demanded, his usual civility forgotten in the early hour.

“I thought you might be lonely on your first night in a new place,” the obviously mentally-challenged redhead crooned, resting his chin in his hand and looking far too comfortable sprawled on Sebastian's floor.

It was a fact known to very few, his mother and Agni possibly being the only ones, that Sebastian Michealis was not a morning person. Low-blood pressure and all that. His usual polite composure was no-where to be seen if his temper was remotely shaken any time before ten o'clock.

Unfortunately for Grell Sutcliffe, it was just gone seven thirty.

“Whoa, Sebby, so rough!”

Sebastian, dragging Grell by the scruff of his scarlet nightdress, grasped the door handle and threw it open.

It should also be known that Sebastian's usually impeccable smarts were somewhat dulled by early mornings too. If it had been ten oh one, he probably would have realised that the door he'd just flung open wasn't Grell's, but Will's. The mistake was quickly realised as a home-made harpoon narrowly missed lancing him through the chest.

Just another morning at St. Victoria's Asylum, as Sebastian would soon come to realise.

۞

Sebastian thought his morning couldn't get any worse. Then Agni took him to breakfast.

The dining hall was pretty empty, though apparently it was never particularly full. The number of staff working at St. Victoria's was quite minute. Sebastian had assumed there would be quite a lot of people, so was surprised. Apart from the people he'd met the previous day, there were only a few faceless cleaners and nurses.

Ronald, Will and Grell were already there, Grell more than a little worse for wear after Sebastian had shoved him into Will's room and shut the door. Will was cutting what might once have been an omelette into squares meticulously, obviously ignoring Ronald, who was trying to start a food fight.

Food being used roughly, here.

Agni concealed a chuckle behind a cough, watching Sebastian's eyes widen as he took in the spread.

Charcoal was apparently the theme of the day.

“You get used to it, Sebastian, honestly. It tastes better than it looks,” the Indian man tried to reassure, choosing odd bits of blackened things and putting them on Sebastian's plate. He sympathised, he really did. Agni knew perfectly well what a picky eater Sebastian was, especially considering he was such a good cook that other people's food just didn't match up. He probably would have been better taking a chefs role rather than an Orderlies.

“You met Bard?” Agni asked, steering clear of Will & Co's table. You could practically see Will's fuse shortening.

“Briefly. He was... preoccupied.” Sebastian poked at what he assumed was bacon, half-expecting it to oink.

Agni laughed, “He usually is. He does like to experiment in the kitchen.”

The experiments should have stayed in the kitchen, Sebastian thought, as he took a brave bite and almost retched. Agni was right, it did taste better than it looked, not that that was much consolation.

Once they'd choked down enough to prevent starving, Agni led Sebastian towards the main building. Despite himself, Sebastian was actually growing nervous. If he was having this much trouble with the staff, how was he possibly going to handle the actual patients?

Agni must have noticed his tension and assured him it was probably going to be a quiet day, that it had been relatively calm for a while now.

That soothed Sebastian for all of five seconds.

As soon as they stepped through what must have been the hundredth security door, a blaring siren almost deafened them. Those nameless nurses he hadn't nor did it seem likely that he would meet were rushing by, panic clear in every movement. Agni grabbed one in passing, asking what was going on.

“A-Alois!” she gasped before sprinting away. Apparently this meant something to Agni, who's eyes widened, and he sped after her. Sebastian, clueless and curious all at once, was following him before he even realised it.

Agni skidded to a halt in a doorway and Sebastian almost crashed into him, just about managing to catch himself.

“Not again,” Agni hissed, actually hissed, before slowly going into the room.

A knot formed in Sebastian's stomach, the 'food' he'd eaten before almost making a comeback.

In the middle of the room, amidst the squealing nurses and hesitantly approaching Agni, was Hannah. She was silent, lips pressed tightly together against the building scream begging to be let free. Blood streamed down her alabaster skin, staining her once pristine dress. Trembles shook her, but she didn't move, not an inch, in fear of unbalancing the boy straddling her.

He was grinning. A completely mad grin, unhinged laughter bubbling from his lips every now and then, burrowing his fingers further and further into Hannah's left eye. They were buried straight to the knuckle, her blood running down his fingers.

Agni was approaching him like one would approach a wild animal, and maybe that's exactly what he was. The boy's head snapped around, striking blue eyes pinning Agni to the spot, and he twisted his fingers sharply making a pained gasp escape the woman.

Agni froze, “Alois, you're only making things worse for yourself. Please. Get off her.”

His only response was to twist his fingers further, another bark of laughter.

It was sick. The look in the boy's, Alois', eyes. The sheer joy at the pain he was inflicting. He was completely relishing every whimper she made.

With a defeated sigh, Agni retreated, addressing one of the several weeping nurses, “Go get Ciel Phantomhive. He'll listen to him.”

The woman nodded, fleeing the room as though the hounds of hell were after her.

Sebastian had assumed this Phantomhive person was another Orderly he had yet to meet, so was more than a little surprised when the nurse returned with a young boy.

He couldn't possibly have been any older than Alois, and was dressed in the same plain white shirt and white pants, the standard clothing for the patients of St. Victoria's. With dark, almost blue, hair grazing his shoulders, and one sapphire eye, the other covered by a plain white patch much in keeping with the hospital's clothes. He didn't walk into the room so much as he strutted, not in an obnoxious way, but in a way that exuded nothing but pride. He held a regal air, unfitting to someone so obviously young.

His name was Ciel Phantomhive, and even though Sebastian didn't know it at that moment, he was going to change his life irreparably.

The blue-eyed boy paused at the entrance of the room, raising one slender brow as he took in the sight before him. Like everyone else bar Sebastian, he didn't seem remotely surprised.

“Ciel! I'm sorry to bother you, but... well, we can't get him to stop,” Agni murmured, walking to Ciel's side, gaze flittering between the newcomer and the eye-gouger. The boy, Ciel, just looked at Agni, as if to say 'so what?'.

“He listens to you,” Agni continued, tone pleading. Agni wasn't a weak man by any means, he could have bodily removed Alois with ease. He was, however, a pacifist. He didn't want to exert his strength over another, especially someone he considered a child, at least mentally. Besides, if they did have force Alois off Hannah, he could hurt her even further.

Ciel donned a contemplative look, gazing over at the blond boy, “What's in it for me?”

Agni faltered.

“W-Well... what do you want?”

Ciel shrugged.

“Nothing in particular.”

The Indian man was obviously resisting the urge to tear his hair from his scalp, though if Sebastian had been in his position, he'd probably have wanted to do it to the boy rather than himself. He may have been new to the job, but he was fairly sure you weren't supposed to negotiate with patients.

“There must be something. I can't promise I'll be able to do it, but I'll try! Surely there's something,” Agni insisted, desperation seeping in as another choked sob escaped the floored woman.

“Hmm... well, I guess there is something...”

Agni visibly brightened.

“Ash took my marble set off me. Decided it was hazardous,” the boy sneered, obviously he didn't agree, “Will you try and get it back to me?”

“S-Sure! I'll do my best. So...?”

Ciel heaved a ragged sigh, glanced back over to the pair in the centre of the room, and bit out, “Alois! Off her!”

As though a switch had been flicked, the boy's head shot round and, as soon as he saw the other patient, the manic grin melded into a bright, almost innocent smile. He jumped to his feet, fingers sliding out of Hannah's socket with a slick pop that nearly made Sebastian wince, and skipped over to Ciel.

“Ciel~ I thought you were ignoring me!” Alois said, the words sounding like song with the boy's musical lilt. Ciel just shrugged again, neither agreeing nor disputing the claim, folding his arms across his chest. He virtually radiated indifference. At least until the blond outstretched his arms, as though to hug the other, and vivid disgust flashed in the one visible eye. Before Alois' touch even brushed him, Ciel had lashed out, slapping the other's hand away.

“Don't touch me with such filthy hands,” he snapped before turning on his heel and leaving the room with the same swagger he'd entered it with.

The smile slid from the other's face, an almost-pout reaching his lips, and Agni shot forward to place a hand on his shoulder. As though fearing another eye-plucking incident, Agni steered the visibly depressed boy from the room, shooting Sebastian an apologetic look, “Can you take Ms. Anafeloz to the Infirmary, Sebastian?”

Sebastian nodded, walking over to the shaking woman.

“Can you stand?” he asked gently, kneeling beside her and taking her arm. She gave a jerky nod and, with Sebastian's help, lumbered to her feet. The blood was caked across her nose and chin, already dried onto the now-ruined dress. Despite that, she was walking quite steadily once she found her feet, and Sebastian had to wonder whether this type of thing happened often. Seeing that she was surprisingly lucid, he didn't bother holding back, and asked what exactly had happened.

She stayed silent for so long that Sebastian thought she wasn't going to answer, making him jump when she did.

“I was giving him his usual medication- that's one of my responsibilities as Head Nurse, though usually Dr. Faustus takes care of it... His name's Alois Trancy... He's one of our more... volatile patients. But he'd been so well-behaved lately! I-I let my guard down, I suppose...” she muttered, more to herself than Sebastian, and he had to strain to hear her.

Alois Trancy, he made a mental-note of the name, and to never 'let his guard down' around him.

“He's quite bi-polar, you see... He seemed so content, I just didn't think...”

He'd noticed the bi-polarness himself, actually. One second, sunshine and daisies, then the Ciel boy rejected his embrace, and you could practically see the raincloud hovering above his head.

They finally reached the Infirmary. One of the triplets, he'd have to learn to differentiate between them at some point, took Hannah's arm and led her over to Doctor.

“Oh my! What on Earth happened to you, darling? You poor thing,” he cooed, as if to a child, gesturing for her to sit before him.

Sebastian stood off to the side, watching Doctor's hands move around Hannah's face skilfully. He liked this man already, the sheer professionalism he held about him, his obvious passion for his work.

The man tutted, shaking his head regretfully.

“Completely destroyed, I'm afraid. Nothing much I can do but bandage you up. And they're such a pretty colour too, such a pity,” Doctor chuntered, placing a piece of gauze over the former-eye. Hannah didn't seem too fussed over the loss, Sebastian thought, as she merely nodded her head at the diagnosis.

“So careless,” an unfamiliar voice scolded from the doorway. Sebastian watched as Hannah tensed all over, fisting clumps of her ruined dress and casting her eye resolutely to the ground.

The man who walked into the room was as tall as Sebastian, with slick black hair and odd amber eyes, a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose. He could have been Will's brother, Sebastian thought offhandly, as he strode towards him, back rim-rod straight.

“You must be Mr. Michealis. I apologise for Hannah's error, you shouldn't have had to escort her.” His voice matched his appearance, carefully free of all emotion. He ignored all the others in the room, even when Doctor attempted to address him, as though they were beneath him. “I was with patients yesterday, so unfortunately I missed your induction. I am Dr. Faustus. You may call me Claude.”

Sebastian stared at the offered hand before him as though it would bite, unsure why. It was like Angela and Ash all over again. This instant, unexplainable dislike. He remembered himself though, his professionalism taking over, and plastered on his for-the-boss smile as he shook the offered hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, Claude. You may call me Sebastian, if you like.”

This first name business was making him uncomfortable already. They were all insisting on it, as well. It was like when he was at school, and there was that one teacher who always tried to bond with the kids by letting them call them by name. There was a line drew between people, be they students and teachers or workers and their superiors, for a reason. Sebastian, a worker to the core, always found it uncomfortable when that line was broached.

Nevermind that it was usually because the person, and he'd had this experience with both teachers and bosses, wanted to bond in a very unprofessional way.

“Sebastian it is, then. Come along, I'll introduce you to the patients.”

Claude left the room and Sebastian reluctantly followed, almost wanting to stay in the Infirmary if only to disobey the man.

The atmosphere on the hospital floor was drastically different than what could only have been an hour before. The alarm was no long screaming, the nurses were walking calmly down the halls chatting amiably with one another, it was as though Alois' attack hadn't even happened.

It was forgotten already.

“Every patient has their own room, which is locked at eight o'clock, and isn't opened again until eight o'clock the next morning. They spend most of their time in the leisure room. That is where the group sessions are held too, every Wednesday morning.”

Claude held up his I.D card against the electronic panel as they reached another security door. It swung open immediately, and he ushered Sebastian in.

“Nearly all the patients here only answer to nicknames they've donned. We've found it easier to go along with it, they grow aggressive otherwise.”

Sebastian nodded his understanding, following Claude into the leisure room. It was semi-full, and Sebastian frowned. These were the patients, and none looked any older than early-twenties. No-one had mentioned St. Victoria's was a children's institute.

All eyes turned on them as they walked in, all openly curious, and the loud chatter petered out.

“Everyone. This is Sebastian Michealis, a new member of staff. Introduce yourselves.”

Claude was even shorter with the patients than with the staff, it seemed.

No-one offered their names, real or otherwise, glancing and whispering to each other conspiratorially. Eventually, one of the older looking boys snickered, lazily sticking his hand into the air and giving a lop-sided grin, “I'm Joker. Pardon our rudeness, we're pretty shy.”

This was obviously some sort of inside-joke, and the other kids broke out into giggles.

The boy, Joker, stood from the chair he was lounged across, stretching like a cat.

“Riiight, lemme see. This lovely lady here is Beast, you'll wanna watch her,” he winked at the curly-haired woman, who flushed deeply, “And her equally lovely brother, Dagger.”

Dagger grinned broadly at Joker, relishing in the minor praise.

“Here we have Peter and Wendy, our resident Neverland couple!” the spiky-haired man announced with flourish, earning a mass groan from the others, Peter swatting at him. They looked the youngest in the room, couldn't possibly even be in their teens yet, true to their names.

Joker swaggered towards the other couch, draping himself across the back of it, “Over here we have Freckles. Don't let her pretty face fool ya, she's a feisty one! And this is Jumbo, our very own B.F.G.”

The huge man rolled his eyes, almost fondly, and shoved the man off the couch.

“Over in the corner there is Snake and Drocell. Quiet ones, them,” he whispered to Sebastian like it was a well-kept secret, pointing to the table on the far side of the room where two teens murmured to each other beneath their breath, apparently oblivious to the newcomer.

“Well! It's not afternoon yet, so Soma won't be up for a while. Smile'll be in his room, he doesn't come out much, aaaaaand you know about the whole Alois-debacle so no wonders there. That's pretty much it. Say hi to the fresh blood, everyone!”

Well, if that wasn't reassuring...

“Hiii, fresh blood,” they all chorused with the enthusiasm of a sentenced convict.

“Come along, Sebastian. Let's get some fresh air,” Claude not so much suggested as demanded, striding from the room before he'd even finished speaking, as though loathe to even be there. Sebastian turned to follow him but paused as a hand rested on his arm.

Joker's exuberant grin toned down to an amused smile.

“Welcome to the circus, mate, and good luck. You'll need it.”

۞

Leaves crunched beneath their feet as they furthered down the garden paths. Even by Sebastian's standards, the gardens were quite magnificent. Flowers he didn't even know were blooming all around, the grass was perfectly trimmed, even the fallen autumn leaves were in perfect placements as though there intentionally.

It took a lot to impress Sebastian, but he couldn't deny that these gardens were truly something else.

His charming companion did not share the sentiment.

“I told Finnian to have these leaves cleaned away by now,” Claude muttered beneath his breath, semi-scowling at them as though they'd killed his puppy. Unlikely, since he seemed more likely to eat puppies than own them.

Claude gestured to a bench across from them, taking a seat and raising an eyebrow when Sebastian didn't immediately follow his lead. There was just something about the man that irked him, made him want act petty, like staying standing even if he didn't want to just because the man had sat first. Remembering himself yet again, Sebastian sat down.

“I was surprised. I'd expected there to be more patients,” Sebastian said when the silence became stifling. Claude glanced at him askance.

“They're all rather high-maintenance. Given how much care each of them need, and how difficult it is getting staff, we only take the serious cases. While we're on the subject, Sebastian... a word of caution. You saw what happened to that woman this morning.”

“Yes... that was quite awful.”

He'd also seen how dismissive everyone else had been, especially Claude, who even went so far as to scold her for it. Not to mention how shaken she'd been when Claude had entered the room.

Sebastian had certainly seen.

“I'm rather glad actually.”

“...I beg your pardon?” Sebastian asked, sure he'd heard wrong.

“I'm glad you saw that. Now you will have no silly misconceptions. They may seem like harmless children, Sebastian, but that's part of what makes them so dangerous. As they say, the devil's greatest trick was convincing everyone he didn't exist. Those people will try to convince you they're normal, it's what they do, and they will play on their childish looks and actions to trick you. You mustn't be fooled!”

Claude grew fervent as he spoke, cat-like eyes intense on his own, and Sebastian felt himself growing uncomfortable beneath the other's gaze.

“You mustn't be gentle with them, either. They'll see it as a sign of weakness, and they'll use anything they can against you. Never forget this; they're here for a reason.”

And Sebastian realised just why he didn't like this man.

Dr. Claude Faustus was trusted with the role of Head Psychiatrist. All of the patients mental health was in his hands, and yet... he seemed to hate them. He looked on them with nothing short of disdain, and spoke of them with sheer disgust.

Sebastian wasn't a terribly compassionate man, by definition. What happened to other people was just that, as far as he was concerned. It happened to other people. It was none of his business, and he like to keep it that way. His dislike for Claude stemmed not from compassion for the patients he seemed to zealously hate, but for the blatant disregard of what his post so obviously called for.

Sebastian may have had many many jobs over the years, and he always left them just as quickly as he'd started them. He was damn near promiscuous in his work. However, if there was one thing Sebastian Michaelis prided himself on, it was that when he was doing a job, that job was him. He gave the work his mind, body and soul. That was a worker's aesthetics. His creed.

That was why he disliked Claude Faustus.

۞

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

۞

Chapter Three

۞

A week had passed since the day in the gardens, and the dreaded had happened.

Sebastian had fallen into routine.

The word was damn near blasphemy to him. Things going by schedule, no spontaneity, going through the motions, Sebastian abhorred the very idea. It usually took much longer than a week for it to happen, and it was usually about the time that well-used letter of resignation was handed in.

A part of him was irked that he was even considering throwing in the towel after a mere seven days. Then again, boredom simply could not be tolerated.

Sebastian didn't even blink at the intruder in his bed, grabbing the flaming redhead and tossing him back into his own room. With ease, he dodged what could have been a mini homemade axe (Will, feeling particularly loathing for the time being, wasn't limiting his traps to his own room any longer, determined to catch Sebastian off-guard at least once), and got dressed. Agni, as usual, was waiting outside the door for him and the two went down to 'breakfast'. As with every day so far, Ronald came down later than everyone else, was scolded by Will for being a waste of space, and promptly began using his spoon as a catapult to launch his food at Will's face. Meanwhile, Grell would be trying to feed Sebastian, managing to inappropriately touch Sebastian so much that the dark-haired man was thankful restraining orders were always an option.

By this time, Sebastian had also gotten to know the patients. At least enough to know how to handle them. They were very fond of teasing, though after not getting the rise they wanted from him during the first few days, they reverted to tearing Agni a new one, who spluttered and blushed almost non-stop.

“Mornin', Agni! Oh, and you too, Sebastian!” Soma, one of the few patients that had been missing during the initial introductions, jogged over as they entered the leisure room, face split in a grin.

Sebastian wasn't sure what he'd been expecting from the patients. Maybe after seeing Alois and his apparent hobby, he'd been expecting an entire ward of mutilators. They were, for the most part, quite friendly actually. Especially Soma, and especially towards Agni.

Sebastian didn't miss the light dusting of red across Agni's face as Soma's blinding smile was turned on him.

And Sebastian had been under the impression that Agni was completely asexual. Good for him.

“Good morning,” the Indian responded with a light smile of his own, and as was becoming the norm when he was near the two, Sebastian couldn't help the feeling of being an intruder.

He didn't have to feel that way though long, as a hand sharply tapped his shoulder, and a familiar administrative voice called for his attention.

“Sorry for the abruptness, Sebastian, but I need a favour,” Angela stated, ushering him towards the door and out of hearing range from everyone else.

“No need to apologise, what do you need?” Even if quitting was on his mind, Sebastian would be professionally polite to his (bitch of a) superior until the two-weeks notice was on her desk.

She gave him a tight-lipped smile, “I'm afraid Ash has fallen ill- he's rather prone to sickness- so I was hoping you could cover his shift tonight.”

The tone made it clear that she was telling, not hoping.

“Of course. I hope it's nothing too serious.”

The sincerity was positively dripping from his words.

Angela smirked then, and warning bells rang in Sebastian's mind. Hers was a smile that could make Satan cry for his mommy.

“No, nothing too serious at all. He should be over it in a day or two.”

Sebastian would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed at that.

“Go back to bed and rest up then. Be back here by eight.” With that she stalked away, and he almost had to resist the childish urge to flip her off behind her back. Knowing her, she'd probably still manage to see it. He wasn't entirely unsure that her head couldn't turn a one-eighty.

“Agni, looks like I'll be doing the night shift instead. I'll see you later,” Sebastian called over, managing the impossible task of taking Agni's attention away from Soma.

An almost imperceptible look crossed Agni's face, though it was quickly dismissed.

“Really? Why?”

“Apparently Ash is sick.”

Agni frowned then, a rare thing for the usually cheerful man.

“...Oh. Alright. I'll see you later then.”

Well, that was odd, Sebastian thought as he left the ward. It was almost as though Agni didn't believe him. Angela had said that her brother was prone to sickness, so surely this wasn't the first time someone from the day shift was asked to cover for him? Surely, working there was long as he had, Agni himself had done so.

“Ooh, a slacker~”

It took him a moment to place the disembodied voice.

“Hello, John.”

The puppet actually looked offended.

“Arthur, idiot. Thought you were meant to be smart. That's what Charlie said. He's an idiot too, though, so can't really blame him there.”

“...Which Charles are you talking about? There are a few.”

“Grey, of course. They're both idiots, but Phipps is practically a mute, so it's hard to tell.”

The guy probably called himself an idiot too, if his liberalness with the word was any indication.

“Well, as charming as it is talking to you, I-”

“Claudey'll be mad if he finds out you're skipping work already~”

“I'm not skipping. My shift's been switched.”

“...Pardon?” the puppet was pulled back through the crack of the door, and John Brown's head popped out, the sunglasses still present even though he was inside. Sebastian almost sighed as he realised he'd actually been talking to a puppet.

“I'm covering for Ash tonight.”

And again, like with Agni, that unreadable look flashed across John's face, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. As did John, slipping back behind the door.

“Then get your lazy ass to bed, Stretch,” 'Arthur' dismissed, one mini-cloth hand waving goodbye.

۞

It was just gone eight, and Sebastian was back on the ward. All the doors were locked, the patients inside their rooms for the duration, and he readied himself for a night of wandering empty halls pretending to be doing something. If this was seriously all Ash did, he had it pretty easy.

The place was pretty creepy at night. It was certainly no Gothic castle with portraits that watched your every step and phantom screams echoing the halls, though that probably would have been more interesting. No creaking stairs or tree branches scratching along the windows here. Still, it was almost eerie. It was kind of like being in a school at night. That feeling you get from a place that is usually filled with people and noise, that should be loud and bustling, and the absence of those things is so obvious it's painful. It was like it was wrong. The entire place just felt wrong in it's stillness.

“Who're you?”

Sebastian jolted, resentfully caught off guard at the unexpected voice. He backtracked a few steps to the entrance of the leisure room he'd just crossed. Somehow he'd missed that a light was still on in there, and that there was the faintest shuffle of movement. A single sapphire eye watched him, almost accusingly, and it was the type of look that made you want to apologise even without knowing what you were apologising for.

He was lounged across an armchair, back against one armrest, legs dangling languidly over the other. He was wearing the same thing he'd been wearing the first time Sebastian had seen him, though he probably had a wardrobe filled with those same clothes. The baggy and unflattering long-sleeved shirt, so white it made the already pale person look even more drained, and the drawstring pants that swamped him. His hair was all in a disarray and practically begged for a good combing, that little fact somehow annoying the well-groomed Sebastian.

“It's rude to stare,” Ciel, Sebastian remembered that, stated, visible eye narrowing. Again, the look brought with it the urge to apologise for whatever unknown slight had been committed.

Sebastian wasn't the type to apologise, though.

“I'm Sebastian Michealis. I started working here last week,” he responded smoothly, stepping into the dimly-lit room. A single lamp was the only source of light, leaving most of the room in darkness. The shadows almost seemed to move.

Ciel gave him a once-over then turned his gaze to the table he was sitting before, murmuring offhandly, “I had a dog called Sebastian once,” then looked back at him expectantly, as though Sebastian was meant to respond to the random statement.

“I'm more of a cat-person myself.”

Distaste was evident on the boy's face at that, before he gestured to the chair across from him.

“Are you going to sit or not?” he asked, exasperatedly.

“...If you don't mind my asking,” Sebastian began, sinking into the plush armchair across from Ciel, “how is it you're not in your room?”

“Black or white?” Ignoring the question, Ciel busied himself with straightening out the carefully placed marble chess pieces before him, absently brushing a stray lock of teal hair from his eye.

“Angela told me that rooms are locked at eight, and it's eight thirty now-”

“My room is never locked. I'm less... high risk than the others, so my door stays open. Now, black or white?” he said in the same way you spoke to the kid who just couldn't seem to grasp that crayons are not edible, and Sebastian was further irked.

“I'm sure Angela would have mentioned-”

“You're black.”

Ciel moved one of his pawns, not seeming to think through movements or strategies at all.

“I'm not playing,” Sebastian informed, ignoring how childish the sentence ended up sounding. Alls that was missing was a pout.

“Yes, you are.” Ciel wasn't asking.

“...No. Now, I think you should go to your room.”

“You're covering for Ash-”

“Angela would have said if-”

“-And he always plays with me, so-”

“-there was anyone exempt from the curfew-”

“-now it's your job to play with me-”

“-which she didn't, so-”

“-make your move.”

“-go to your room.”

Sapphire and crimson eyes clashed over the chessboard. Sebastian crossed one leg over the other, raising one brow expertly. Ciel, if possible, slouched further into the chair, lips pressed tightly together in disapproval. Was this man seriously telling him to go to bed? As in, bed time, sleep tight, bed bugs and all that? They stared each other down, neither willing to submit.

Sebastian blinked as Ciel's lips curved up in a ghost of a smirk.

“Afraid to lose?”

Now, Sebastian was no fool. In fact, one could argue he was something of a genius. So he could certainly see bait when it was being dangled before his face. However, it was unfortunate that that particular quality often contradicted another one; Sebastian Michealis did not like to lose. Whether it be a game of chess, sports, cooking, even knitting, he never lost. He may have been graceful in his victories, but he did not let his challengers forget that victory either.

After all of five minutes of 'conversation', Sebastian had decided that this person was someone who was in desperate need of tasting defeat, and who was he to deprive the boy of one of life's vital lessons?

Sebastian gave a smirk of his own.

“You should know, I've never lost a game.”

Ciel sat up straighter in his seat so as to reach the board better, “We'll see.”

۞

The shadows retreated to the deepest corners of the room, chased away by the first few rays of sunlight breaking through the window. The lamp was now rendered useless, but neither moved to turn it off, all eyes trained on the marble chessboard sitting on the table.

Sebastian's face was creased in a very rare frown, index finger of his left hand still resting atop his Rook, other hand poised to his lips. Concentration was obvious in every fine line of his face.

His opponent had, over the course of the night, sunken further and further into the cushions of his chair as Sebastian had gotten more and more into the game, face completely calm, his several victories over the older man coming with ease.

The click of a door opening in the distance and the familiar beeping of the security panel startled them both, and Sebastian's finger slipped from the Rook.

“Checkmate.”

Ciel pushed Sebastian's King down across the chequered panels, no small amount of smugness in his voice.

Sebastian bit back a curse.

“Good morning,” Angela greeted, coming into the room, and Sebastian floundered a little before realising that she didn't look at all surprised to see Ciel there.

So he'd been telling the truth then.

“The next shift starts soon, so you can go get some sleep, Sebastian,” she offered, putting away the chess pieces, apparently oblivious to the scowl that sprung upon Ciel's face when she touched them.

Sebastian rose from the chair with a sigh, suddenly realising just how tired he was.

“You... actually weren't so bad to play against. Ash loses within five minutes, every time. You actually lasted almost an hour at one point... not bad,” Ciel relented, looking loathe to do so, before what could have passed as a childish excitement shone in his eye, “Play me again sometime. Who knows, with more practise, you might actually win one.”

Well, wasn't that almost a compliment.

“I'll definitely win next time,” Sebastian stated, lips curling upwards.

“Heh. I'll look forward to it, Sebastian.”

۞

As it turned out, Sebastian would be waiting for that next game longer than he'd thought.

The next day, he returned to his regular hours. The usual morning routine went ahead before he made his way to the ward with Agni, who was immediately latched on to by Soma, chattering animatedly about something or other. Sebastian glanced around the room and it's residents, surprising himself when he was a little disappointed by Ciel's absence.

As the morning crawled on, Ciel still didn't appear, and Sebastian was starting to grow impatient. The numerous losses still stung. He'd never lost before, not to anyone. Especially not at chess. While he had to admit the game bored him to some extent, he was still proud to say that he was something of a reigning champion.

At least he was, until the one-eyed brat usurped him from his throne.

How was he supposed to take back his title if the kid wasn't showing?

“Soma? When does Ciel usually wake up?” He eventually buckled, and asked the purple-haired man, who Sebastian had learned knew a lot more about all of the other patients and even the staff than was probably good.

“Wake up? Hmm... I'm not too sure, to be honest. But he doesn't really come out here much when Alois is in the room,” Soma replied, fiddling with the string on his pants, pouting when one of his fingers got caught in the knot.

Sebastian glanced around the leisure room, “But Alois isn't here.”

Soma giggled, something someone his age should not do, “Not this room. The Room.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Agni~ I got it knotted again!” Unfortunately, as much of an information-bank as Soma was, he also had the attention span of a squirrel, and he didn't seem to hear Sebastian's question as he shot across the room to the waiting Agni.

۞

It would be another three days before Sebastian would see Ciel again, and even then, it was only for a few fleeting seconds. During those three days, however, it wasn't Ciel he was thinking of much, but rather where exactly Alois had disappeared to. It hadn't occurred to him until Soma had mentioned the boy, but after that incident with Hannah, Sebastian hadn't seen the boy once. Agni had led him from the room, then nothing. Almost two weeks later, and he hadn't returned to the ward.

If Soma's vague words were to be trusted, and Agni would protest very strongly that they were, then Alois was in some room. The Room. Whatever or wherever it was.

It was half way through the afternoon, around the time when the patients got lethargic and quietened down, and the staff relaxed a bit, that Claude entered the leisure room. Behind him, clinging lightly to his sleeve, followed Alois.

Sebastian had to look twice to even realise this was the same boy.

On the first time he'd seen him, although blood-stained and deranged, Alois had given off an effervescent air, with gleaming eyes and face-splitting grins. Maybe he only appeared so happy when he was gouging women's eyes out.

Now, he was meek, skin pallid, eyes dulled, hair hanging lankly around a cadaverous face.

The room went even quieter than it had already been, all eyes turning to the pair in the doorway. Claude, hand resting on the boy's shoulder, leant down and muttered something into Alois' ear. The blond nodded, pulling away from the bespectacled man, and stumbled further into the room. Eyes glued to the floor, he made his way over to the same door Sebastian had been waiting to open, and rapped on the wood.

There were only two people Sebastian had noticed approached Ciel's door; Soma and a girl who called herself Freckles. Any time they knocked, the door had never been opened. This time, however, not long after Alois' fist had met the wood, the door swung open.

No words were exchanged between the two. Alois dragged his eyes from the floor, meeting Ciel's stony gaze, and Ciel stepped aside. Alois darted into the room, the door slipping shut behind him.

Noise rose up again, an almost forced chatter amidst the patients, and the tension in the air dissipated.

Claude caught his gaze and gestured him over. Reluctantly, loathe to even be in the same room as the man, Sebastian obliged.

“Sebastian,” Claude greeted, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

“Hello,” Sebastian replied.

Claude looked towards Ciel's closed door, “Keep an eye on those two, Sebastian. Alois is very easily... influenced by Ciel. I'm fairly certain the incident with Nurse Anafeloz had something to do with him.”

He didn't even wait for Sebastian to respond, turning on his heel and striding from the room the second he'd said his piece.

Despite himself, Sebastian found that he did keep on eye on that closed door throughout the day. A wasted effort, however, as it didn't open again. Not once. They didn't leave the room, even when Soma knocked and jauntily announced it was dinner time. And Sebastian could have sworn that, as he passed next to the door, he heard sobbing from inside.

۞

Sebastian Michealis had worked at St. Victoria's Institute for two weeks. After the first week, he'd begun to feel boredom in the work, and considered handing in his resignation. By the end of the second week, resigning was the last thing on his mind.

Questions were beginning to surface.

Why had the other Orderlies reacted so oddly when Ash had fallen ill and Sebastian had had to cover for him?

Where had Alois been those two weeks, and why was he in such a pathetic state when he'd returned? Even though Sebastian didn't really have a basis for comparison, something told him that that wasn't how Alois generally was.

What exactly was that room Soma had mentioned?

But more than anything, just how damn sane Ciel Phantomhive had seemed when they had played chess throughout the night.

۞

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

۞

Chapter Four

۞

He'd only been in bed all of half an hour, sleep alluding him as usual, when his door swung open and hit the wall with a crash. Half-heartedly, he wondered if the nuisance would leave if he pretended to be asleep, but dismissed the idea. If he pretended to be asleep the brat would probably just sit on him or something.

“Go away, Alois. I'm tired,” the lump under the covers sluggishly snapped.

“Nuh-uh! It's Wednesday!” the blond announced, back to his exuberant self, bounding over to the bed and tugging on the quilt. He dodged the leg aimed at his stomach without even a blink, face-splitting grin not faltering, and finally succeeded in tearing the sheets from Ciel's death grip.

Ciel's temper only worsened when Alois lacked the decency to spontaneously combust beneath his one-eyed glare.

“Come ooon. If you don't come out now, Grey'll just come in and annoy you out anyway, and you know how you hate it when he comes in your room,” Alois reasoned, holding the sought-after sheets and dancing away from Ciel's outstretched hand.

Ciel frowned.

“...He touches my stuff,” he agreed, remembering the last time that damnable psychiatrist had had the gall to come into his room. It was ages until Ciel was satisfied that his models were germ-free.

Not to mention the imbecile had called them toys. They were not toys, they were collectables, dammit!

“Exactly!” Alois thought he'd won the weekly debate until Ciel just shrugged and flipped over, burying his face in the pillow. Annoyance surged up, he was this close to pouting.

“Ciiiel, I have candy~”

If Ciel had been a dog, his ears would have shot up.

Suspiciously, he looked over his shoulder at the newcomer in the doorway, brows furrowing.

“If it's that home-made stuff you tried to fob me off with last time, Soma, I swear to whatever God you believe in...” he trailed off when the purple-haired man opened his palm, a handful of wrapped sweets revealing themselves.

Five minutes later, Ciel was dressed and closing his bedroom door behind him, chewing a mouthful of toffee. Everyone else was already in the leisure room, all the chairs being arranged in a semi-circle in the centre. Both his self-proclaimed best friends flanked him, bickering between themselves about just who would be sitting next to Ciel, neither noticing when he meandered over to a waving Freckles, settling into his usual armchair beside her.

“Mornin', Smile,” she greeted with a bright one of her own. When he only frowned at the stupid nickname, she snickered, snatching one of the wrappers and playing with it.

“Whew, full house today,” Grey began, his ever-present grin plastered across his face. Phipps sat silently beside him, scribbling something onto the clipboard in his lap, looking forever-bored.

“So, let's start with the regular. Go round the circle and tell me how you're feelin', don't be afraid to express yourselves, guys.” No matter what the man said, it always sounded so sarcastic. God, Ciel hated even being in the same room as him. Conversations with Grey never failed to bring up the unhealthy urge to punch a baby in the face.

Peter was the unfortunate sitting directly next to Grey, and snorted, “I'm feelin' like I always feel when you make us do this; like this shit is stupid.”

Grey leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and adopting a look of intense fascination at Peter's words, “Uh-huh. Yes, I'm feeling a lot of pent-up aggression here. Did you get that, Phipps? Make sure to get it word-for-word, we've made a big break through here.”

Peter just rolled his eyes at the obvious mocking, folding his arms across his chest and glancing away from the source of annoyance.

“Alright, Wendy, what about you?” Grey turned to the small girl sat beside Peter, who instantly looked flustered, and shrugged, muttering something about feeling fine. Peter flared up instantly, his temper not good at the best of times, and barked, “Stop makin' her feel uncomfortable!”

Grey just laughed.

Soma was next, and just cheerily responded with a Great!, and Ciel almost smirked as he expertly gave Grey nothing to work with.

Eventually Grey got bored of that, luckily before he got to Beast who would have given as good as she got, and then they'd all have to put up with Dagger rushing to defend his sister's honour for the next hour, which got old quick.

Ciel was pretty sure Phipps was just doodling at this point.

“Alright! Enough of that. Today's key word is self-control.”

Everyone laughed at that, even Ciel couldn't help snickering a little. Grey's amused gaze was upon Alois as he said it.

“Now I know we've discussed this many times before, but because of a certain someone, the higher ups are making me sit through it again. Thank you for that, Trancy. Anything you'd like to say?”

Alois' grin turned feral.

“You talking about what happened with that whore? Pfft, that had nothing to do with lack of self-control. I did exactly as I meant to do.”

It would have been alright if the patients had been the only ones laughing at that. They were insane, right? Things like that amuse them. However, an appalled Sebastian thought as he watched the session from the other side of the room, what the hell was Grey doing, cracking up just as much as Alois? Even Phipps let out a chortle at the boy's words. They... It was like they were encouraging the blond's actions.

Sebastian's gaze caught with Ciel's, and the same disgust that Sebastian felt at the psychiatrists was reflected in the eye that met his. He was almost relieved, but with that relief came yet more confusion. Because yet again, this patient was appearing as more sane than yet another member of staff.

۞

Ciel had disappeared into his room at some point during the session when Sebastian wasn't looking, and his faint hope of maybe catching a game was dashed yet again. A part of him was annoyed that he'd allowed the kid to get under his skin so easily, so quickly, but he was mostly annoyed that he hadn't had his rematch yet.

“Sebastian, there's someone I'd like you to meet,” Tanaka said, pulling Sebastian away from his work and out into the hall. There waited a man. Or a woman. It was impossible to tell beneath the dozens of layers of black. Shaggy gray hair hung across the man's face, hiding his eyes from view. An impossibly wide grin stretched across their face, showing all their teeth and giving the impression more of a vicious snarl than a smile.

“This is one of my fellow Chairmen, his name is-”

“Call me Undertaker,” the man, no woman could have a voice that deep, cut in, a hand appearing from the depths of his overly-large sleeves to grasp Sebastian's in a firm shake.

Undertaker? These people weren't even trying anymore, were they?

“As I'm forced to travel often, if you ever need anything, feel free to go to Undertaker. He resides here year round, and his door is always open-”

“Only if you pay the toll, of course,” yet again cutting across Tanaka, the man laughed, arguably the most unhinged laughter Sebastian had heard to that day.

Tanaka chortled himself.

“Ah, of course. Our Undertaker here does insist you share a joke before you can enter the office. Ah well, just make him laugh and he'll help you with anything.”

A joke toll.

...a joke toll.

Sebastian made a promise to himself as he walked back to the ward to never need Undertaker's help.

۞

[whyiamanacademicweapon]

Entry 5

if Hannah talks one more time about how much she wants to leave this country for college I'm gonna drop out and buy a plane ticket to Denmark. Why? Shes got some great points and cool pants so i feel like what she says goes.

[relaxedbunny]

My Favorite YouTube Channels for Relaxing (2022) #1

This list contains five YouTube Channels. There’s no certain ranking regarding the order they appear.

relaxdaily

For about three years, I listened to the videos every day while writing something. I miss those days. I still use the videos as the background for my study and working periods.

Abao in Tokyo

A study-with-me channel. You can find various lengths of Pomodoro timers within the videos. I really like the vibes the channel brings to me. And of course, I have a dream to go travel to Japan.

Jess Karp

The first YouTuber who inspired me to start drawing. I can’t remember how I find this channel last year. Jess impressed me with her passion, thinking about drawing, teaching ability, and life attitude. This is not a conventional channel to learn how to draw, but more on the inspirational side, which I really need as the long way to go. I strongly recommend the playlists: 1) sketchbook tours and 2) tips.

Hannah Witton

Get to know more about sexuality and the female body. I really appreciate Hannah’s efforts to make me feel less shame about what my parents and the patriarchal societies have imposed on me.

CUBASTIC

Cool for the puzzle fans! Cubastic shows the processes of how he solves the puzzles and he speaks aloud what he is thinking while saving the problems. I really like to know how people are thinking when they’re working and having fun in their field. That’s one of the moments I see the human wits.

I hope you’ll find this list relaxing and fun for you. I will continue to post more of my favorite channels in the future.

[princessparadoxical]

Describe yourself using photos saved onto your phone 💛💜💚🧡💙❤

Tagged by the marvellous @sugarpenchant ^-^

Tagging @therightprometheanfire @destroybeginagain @derinthemadscientist @mariusperkins @colonelbarker @octagoncalibrator @caedi @rizaoftheowls @klaudiart @marizetta

[reciprocityfic]

#12 for AmyxLaurie

12. an exchange of gifts or mementos.

They leave Orchard House late that first night, long after the sun has set. Even Mr. Laurence - or rather, Grandfather, as the older man had corrected her gently but insistently several times throughout the evening - had stayed the entire time, and the three of them are ushered out of the house with warm words and soft hugs. She kisses both Daisy and Demi once more on their foreheads as the twins sleep - Daisy on her father's shoulder and Demi on his mother's - and then, it's time to go.

She feels something significant as she passes over the threshold and steps out into the comfortably cool air, something tugging at her heart. She knows she's not leaving the house behind for good; Hannah invited them over for breakfast the next morning, for heaven's sake.

She'd always considered her trip to Europe the effective end of her childhood. And if that hadn't been enough, the death of her sister and her marriage to Laurie had each matured her in their own way: one ripped off and broke the rose-colored glasses through which she'd viewed her youth, and the other turned her head from darkness to the light of all the wonderful things that lie ahead.

But still, there's something about this moment, about leaving the home that isn't quite her home anymore. She looks up at the large white house looming across the street, and the tugging grows harder. It isn't bad, she supposes. It's just...heavy.

She's nervous.

A million what-ifs prepare to run themselves through her brain, but then Laurie pulls her close, loops their arms together. She looks up at him, and he's staring down at her wearing a curious expression, the planes of his face lit up by the light spilling out of the still-open doorway.

"Are you alright?" he asks gently.

She nods, leans over and places a kiss on his shoulder in response. He smiles slowly at her, and then motions with his head across the street.

"Let's go home."

And suddenly, the weight inside her is lifted, the what-ifs stopped in their tracks and replaced instead with wishes and dreams of all that is to come. She smiles back at him, and now feels as if she could fly.

They start down the path together, and even though the door closes behind them and the candlelight shining from inside disappears, the grins on their faces light up the night and illuminate their way.

***

Grandfather hovers awkwardly with them in the foyer for about three minutes before quickly bidding them goodnight. Amy blushes. Laurie just barely waits to hear the click of his grandfather's bedroom door closing before bursting into a laugh. She rolls her eyes, and nudges him playfully for laughing at her expense, which only makes him chuckle again. After a moment of stubborn defiance, she joins him. She can't help it; his laughter - his joy - is infectious.

As their laughter begins to die down, he leans down and kisses her once before reaching for her hand and taking a step towards the stairs.

"Shall we, my lady?"

"We shall, my lord," she murmurs lowly.

His eyes rake over her in a way she's rapidly learned the meaning of. Her pulse quickens, and in no time he's pulling her towards the stairs once again. They nearly jog as they make their way upstairs, and she almost trips over her skirts in their haste. They both laugh again, the sound filling the quiet halls of the Laurence residence.

Once their feet hit the second floor, however, they slow down. He turns his body towards her and takes her other hand, too, beginning to lead her to the bedroom. Her eyes never leave his face, a small smile just turning up the corners of her mouth. He only turns and drops her hands so that he can open the door, and then steps aside, letting her enter first. She walks in, and then pauses, letting her eyes wander around the room. She hears him come in behind her, and shut the door.

The room is dark, so she can’t make out details. She sees the moonlight shining in through the window, her luggage from Europe stacked in the far corner. Her eyes land on the large bed in the middle of the room; she can’t help it. Suddenly, his lips press softly against the nape of her neck, and her eyes close.

“You can make whatever changes you like,” he murmurs against her skin. “And not just in this room, either. I want you to make the whole house your own.”

“We’ll make it our own,” she tells him, opening her eyes and turning towards him. “The two of us.”

“Together,” he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him.

“Always, my lord,” she confirms, before pressing herself to him more closely. “But right now, I have other things on my mind.”

He raises an eyebrow playfully before leaning down to kiss her, a smile on his face.

“I like the way you think, my wife.”

Their lips touch in a gentle kiss that quickly becomes heated as he opens his lips and slips his tongue inside her mouth. She’s just settling into the kiss, and is about to move her fingers to the buttons of his waistcoat when he freezes, and pulls away from her abruptly.

She looks at him in confusion and disappointment, a frown on her face.

“Wait,” he tells her, looking over her shoulder. “Wait right here.”

She makes a noise of protest in the back of her throat as he moves from her, but doesn’t disturb him further; it’s as if he’s on a mission as he opens a closet near the back of the room. He moves a few odd things, opens a drawer and pulls something out of it before closing the closet and turning around.

He walks towards her, and she can sense a certain nervousness in the slowness of his steps. It’s dark, and she can’t tell what he’s holding to his chest.

“Amy,” he whispers when he stops in front of her, the look in his eyes serious, but full of love.

She’s about to ask him what’s going on when he presents the item in his hands to her. She can see it well enough now, and her breath catches.

It’s a jewelry box.

“Amy,” he says again, lowering to one knee. “My love, my life, my wife. My Amy.”

She can feel the pressure of tears behind her eyes, and she waits for him to continue, speechless.

“I know we’re already married,” he begins, “and that we’ve already made our promises and declarations. And maybe this seems a bit silly, but I want to do this, because I want you. I want all of you - your heart and your soul - everyday, for always.”

He fumbles with the box, but gets it open, and takes out the piece of jewelry inside. He reaches out for her left hand, drops the jewelry in her palm, and closes her fingers around it. He holds her fist there, placing the now-empty box on the floor and cradling her hand in both of his.

“I love you,” he declares ardently. “I love you, wholly and completely. With my entire being. And it would be the greatest honor - my life’s greatest work - to spend the rest of my life loving you, if you’ll allow it.”

He releases her fist, and she opens her fingers, finding the most beautiful ring resting in her hand. It’s gorgeous - gorgeous - of course, but it wouldn’t matter even if it wasn’t. He could give her a ring made of paper and paste, and she’d still accept it with all the happiness in the world.

“It was my mother’s,” he tells her. “If - if you don’t like it, we can get something different. Something you can pick out yourself.”

“It’s perfect,” she assures him. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Yes?” he asks, a smile blossoming on his face.

“Yes,” she confirms breathlessly, a tear falling from the corner of her eye.

She hands the ring back to him, and she sees bewilderment flash across his face briefly before she presents him with her left hand.

“Will you, my lord?”

He grins again.

“It would be my pleasure, my lady.”

He takes her hand, kissing her bare ring finger once before sliding on the ring. She flexes her fingers; it’s a perfect fit.

She grabs his shoulders and nearly tugs him up into a standing position, and he laughs. She doesn’t give him time to recover before she’s on him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly. He kisses her back, moves her until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed.

“Now, Mrs. Laurence,” he says, and she smiles against his mouth. “I do believe we were in the middle of something before I so rudely interrupted us.”

She pulls back from him and hums, tapping her finger against her chin.

“I can’t seem to remember what it was, Mr. Laurence.”

“Well, then,” he says, pushing on her shoulders gently but purposefully until she falls backwards. She yelps and then laughs as her back hits the mattress. “I suppose I’ll have to remind you.”

He goes to crawl on top of her, but she holds him at arms’ length briefly, her hands on his face. She beams up at him, her new ring glimmering in the moonlight.

“I love you, Laurie,” she murmurs, her fingers running down the bridge of his nose before landing on his lips.

He kisses her fingertips before answering.

“As I love you, Amy.”

They smile at each other, the joyful energy between them palpable. She pulls on him once again, collapsing him on top of her, and they continue on together into the night.

send me a number and a pairing (preferably laurie x amy) and i'll write you a mini fic!

[the-bau-quinjet]

Can you please do like a sequel of Shut Up where Bucky and the reader team up against Sam????

Oops...

Warnings: fluff!!

Word Count: 1438

a/n: Sorry this took so long! It took me a while to think of a prank that wasn't too terribly mean...

Shut Up!

Masterlist

"Y/N." Bucky whined, his hands holding tightly to one of your own. "We have to do something to Sam!"

You laughed at his childlike behavior. Ever since your first date with Bucky, which went surprisingly well considering how nervous the both of you were, Bucky has been pestering you about teaming up against Sam.

Rather than responding, you pulled out your phone, quickly playing the video of Steve in his Captain America suit rattling on about patience.

"We need a plan first." You laid back on your bed, pulling Bucky along since he still held your hand.

"One: why do you have that video so readily available? Two: I have a plan." He smiled maniacally. "Turn him into a bird."

You scrunched up your face. "One: for moments like this, duh." You answered his first question.

I am definitely 100% in love with her. Bucky's thoughts ran wild.

"Two: I already made you a cat. You need to be more creative." You laughed at his pouty face.

How is he so perfect?

"Like what?" He bounced on the bed, fully embracing the childlike temper tantrum.

"I don't know. We could make Friday only call him Bird Brain for a day. Or make it so Redwing only responds to being called 'toy plane'." You thought about random prank ideas, trying to think of something that would bother him, but still be funny. Bucky looked at you fondly as you listed ideas.

How is she so perfect.

"I've got it." Bucky grinned smugly earning a raised eyebrow from you. "Can you make it so he can only say song lyrics?"

You thought to yourself for a minute before finally nodding.

"Embarrassing song lyrics?" He added, the mischief clear in his eyes.

"Now you're talking. What are you thinking? Early Jonas Brothers? High School Musical? Hannah Montana?" Your smile grew with each new artist you listed.

"Perfect. Now we just have to think of a way for him to eat something we give him."

Bucky was pacing, clearly deep in thought.

"Actually, I didn't need to make you eat that cookie. I could've just turned you into a cat with the flick of a wrist." You grinned at his wide eyes.

"What? Why then?"

"Because. It was more fun to see how paranoid you were about eating anything I gave you."

Bucky pouted, although he had to admit it made sense.

I am definitely in love with this man. You shook your head, trying to clear the thoughts.

"C'mon. We've got to make a plan."

-

You worked your magic on Sam on a day when you knew everyone would be around the compound. He was minding his own business, trying to watch a movie when you and Bucky suddenly appeared.

"Hey, Sam. How you doing?" You asked with a fake air of innocence.

"I'm hot. You're cold. You go around, like you know-" He instantly burst into song, eyes widening. He threw his hands over his mouth, trying to prevent anything else from coming out.

You played it cool, but the twinkle in Bucky's eye easily gave away your prank.

"What's going on? This can't be happening. Don't tell me it's a song!" Sam switched songs, eyes narrowing. He continued singing, despite his clear protests.

"Oh, it's a song." You grinned, leaning into Bucky who wrapped an arm around you.

I love her so much.

Sam shook his head in response, leaving the common area. He figured it would only last a few hours, so all he had to do was avoid people talking to him.

What he didn't account for was Tony's "impromptu" team building night. In reality, you suggested to Tony that maybe the team needed more time together not fighting anyone, and he ran with the idea.

"Alright party people! What should we play first?" Tony gestured to the massive table filled with various board games.

"I've always loved clue!" You grinned, knowing what would come next.

"Clue it is! Who does everyone want to be?" Tony questioned, laying out the various pieces.

"Who will I be? It's up to me. All the never ending possibilities, that I can see." Sam immediately burst into song, surprising most everyone around the table.

"Oh, I wouldn't say never ending, Sam. I think there's only six!" You patted him on the shoulder, a wide smile on your face.

"What did you do?" Steve asked, eyes narrowing in on you and Bucky.

"Oh, don't worry Cap. It'll only last another..." You glanced at the clock, "four hours." Bucky hid his face in your neck to prevent himself from laughing too obnoxiously.

I love him so much.

"Games and a show. I like it." Nat winked at you, always a fan of your pranks since none were ever directed at her.

"What was he even singing?" Clint stared at you, again unprepared for Sam to answer in song.

"Cause we rock. Camp Rock. We rock, we rock on." Sam glared at you, the expression really not matching the joyous music filling the room.

"He can only sing songs from Disney Channel Original Movies or people who were once on Disney Channel." You smiled to yourself, happy with the limits on the spell. "I do believe the last two were from Camp Rock."

"This should be an interesting night." Bruce shook his head, never one to understand the draw of practical jokes.

"That's an understatement." Steve shook his head. He finally had you and Bucky getting along, so of course you'd do something like this.

-

"Moving on." You pointedly glared at Clint, knowing he was about to bring up Budapest again. "Let's play a team game next."

"Charades?" Bucky suggested, trying to keep it simple enough.

You all split into two teams, Sam being sure to put himself against you and Bucky.

"Sam, you're definitely going down." You goaded, trying to draw out another song.

"Hey now, We no longer wait around. My team's stronger like weights now." He started rapping, or as close to rapping as it gets on Disney.

"Oh my God. That's even better than I expected." You laughed so hard, tears sprung up in your eyes.

"Disney raps now?" Tony questioned, also laughing at Sam's embarrassed face.

"Yes. Lemonade Mouth. An underrated film, honestly." You nodded, completely serious only earning more laughs from the team.

I. Love. You. Bucky's thoughts were written across his face, but somehow went unnoticed by you.

-

"That's okay, Sam." Bucky grinned. "Nobody's perfect."

"Everybody makes mistakes. Everybody has those days. Everybody knows what, what I'm talking 'bout. Everybody gets that way."

You couldn't stop the smile from forming you your face, although rather than laughing at Sam's embarrassment you were now just enjoying Bucky being happy.

I. Love. You.

-

"I hate you both." Sam cleared his throat, no longer used to the sensation of speaking.

"It was Bucky's brilliant idea." You smiled at him. I love you.

"Well, it was Y/N's brilliant execution." He pressed a kiss to your nose. I love you.

"Dear Lord. I can't take this anymore." Wanda erupted, in a similar fashion to the night you turned Bucky into a cat. "I get it. You two love each other. Now, please! Learn how to control your thoughts!"

You and Bucky were wide eyed, stares flitting between Wanda and each other.

"You love me?" Your voice was soft showing how unsure of yourself you were.

Bucky nodded before voicing a similar question. "You love me?"

"Oops..." Wanda hid behind Vision, trying not to draw anymore attention to herself. Thankfully, all eyes were on you and Bucky.

"I really, really do." You whispered, eyes solely focused on Bucky.

Bucky pulled you in for a kiss, heart bursting with joy. He never thought he'd find someone to love him, let alone someone as incredible as you.

"I love you." Bucky whispered against your lips, kissing you between the words.

"I love you too." You kissed him right back, heart fluttering.

"I liked it better when they were constantly fighting." Sam muttered under his breath, earning a punch in the arm from Steve.

"Let them be. They're in love." He sighed with a happy smile. He couldn't help but think about how much Bucky deserved to be happy.

"I don't know if this is the cutest or grossest thing I've ever seen." Nat commented, eyes still focused on you and Bucky's whispered words and soft kisses.

"Grossest. Definitely the grossest." Clint added on, needing to jump out of the way as you and Bucky took off for your room, paying no mind to the many teammates laughing at you as you passed by.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @madewithsebstan

[ginnympotter]

call it even

Chapter 1: you’ll always know me

A/N: This is the first chapter of a 2 (or possibly 3? who knows) chapter Muggle AU fanfic inspired by tis the damn season and dorothea by taylor swift hehe hope you like it :) You can also read it on AO3 here.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and took a deep breath. It was way too early in the morning, she had just gotten off a long flight where she barely slept a wink, and she just didn’t have it in her to talk to any fans without the coffee she was impatiently waiting for at the LAX Starbucks.

But she turned around anyway, bracing herself, and then saw a face that jolted her so much she supposed she wouldn’t need the coffee anymore. “Harry?”

“Hey, Ginny,” he smiled. Harry Potter was standing in front of her for the first time in almost a year, looking as handsome as ever. He was tired, his green eyes looking glazed behind his glasses, his hair pointing in all directions- though she could tell he didn’t try to comb it- wearing the grey-blue sweater she knew her Mum bought him years ago.

Without really thinking about it, she moved forward and hugged him, throwing her arms around his neck, and he put his around her waist and hugged her back, but he also let go first.

“What are you doing here?” she asked incredulously, trying not to think too hard about him breaking the embrace before she could.

“My students had a tournament against a school out here,” he explained. “We lost though.”

“I’m sorry,” she offered.

“Oh, don’t be, I don’t mind. But the kids all seem like they’re going to jump out of the plane before we can make it home. I was up until 2am consoling the quarterback. My assistant coach is talking them all down now out there while I grab us coffee.”

She nodded, biting her lip. And then blurted out, “Why didn’t you call?” At Harry’s confused look, she added, “to tell me you were in L.A.?”

He cleared his throat, and Ginny saw a light blush creep up his neck. “Well, I knew you were away for your match. I caught some of it, you played great, as always.”

“Oh,” she responded, feeling stupid. She sometimes forgot that as a member of the U.S. Women’s Soccer team her schedule was often public knowledge. She felt a tug at her heart thinking about Harry still supporting her after all this time. “Right, thanks. I wish I could’ve shown you around the city. Did you like it here?”

He shrugged. “Not bad, but big cities aren’t really my style. You know that,” he ended, a solemn note in his voice. “Have you been enjoying it out here?”

She mirrored his shrug. “It’s fine, I suppose. I like the weather, if that counts.”

“Nothing else?”

With most people she’d probably just lie and say she loved it, but with Harry she had a bad habit of always being blunt. “The traffic here is worse than what they warn you about, and honestly, it’s hard to make friends when it seems like everyone just wants to use you for your fame- or for the more famous people that you know.”

“Well, if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know, you know you'll always know me.” Harry offered her a sad smile. “I’m always a call- or a FaceTime- away. Not that a tiny screen is my ideal way of seeing you, but better than nothing.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond right away, as she could feel her whole body burning up and her throat closing. There was so much in the air between them. But the barista called out a cold brew, and at the same time they both said, “oh, that’s me,” then looked at each other and laughed. The first one had Ginny’s name on it, the one that followed five seconds later had Harry’s.

They walked away from the coffee pick-up area together, and Harry checked his watch. “Well, we have to board soon. I’m sorry this is the only way we got to see each other.”

“I’ll be home for Christmas,” Ginny told him in response. She originally didn’t plan on reaching out to him when she got back home, because she knew her brother and Harry’s best friend Ron would just tell him, and if he wanted to see her he could make that decision for himself. But suddenly this became information that she couldn’t hold in.

“Oh,” responded Harry, running his free hand through his hair. Her heart fluttered at that motion, as she knew what it meant- that he was nervous in a good way. “Well, that’s great! Let me know when you plan on getting in, I’d love to catch up, properly.”

“Yeah, me too,” she said, the sincerity spilling out against her will. She never could truly play it cool with him, not even when they were kids. She hugged him again, smelling home lingering on his sweater. “I will. Have a safe flight, Harry.”

His grip on her was tighter this time, even with coffee in hand, than the last. “You too,” he replied. And then stiffened and let go. “I mean, you already had your flight, so that made no sense. Have a safe...cab ride home, I suppose?”

Ginny laughed at his stumbling. “I’ll do my best.”

He smiled, raising a hand in a small wave as he walked back towards his students. “See you later, Gin.”

She returned the smile and watched him reach his students. She noticed one of them looking at her as if they recognized her. She saw him nudge Harry with his elbow before she turned around and began walking to find her cab driver. As she continued to stride forward she faintly heard him ask, “Mr. Potter, was that just… Ginny Weasley? Do you know her?”

***

It was her fault for thinking her brothers would give her some indication that Harry would be there. They knew she still had feelings for him, no matter how much she denied it and how many times she tried to move on, and yet they couldn’t even give her a heads up.

When Fred and George saw her exasperated expression, they rolled their eyes in unison as Fred put his arm around her. “Are you reverting back to your 11-year-old self, little sis?”

“Fuck off,” she said, shrugging out of her brother’s embrace. “You could have at least warned me.”

“I thought you were bold, or whatever,” said George. “Wasn’t that one of the three qualities you used to describe yourself in People Magazine?”

Harry began walking over to them. She mentally prepared herself as he hugged Fred and George and congratulated them on the joke shop’s expansion. As he turned his attention to Ginny, the twins quickly left to talk to other guests. He didn’t smile.

“Hi,” she said nervously. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Hi,” he replied, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his drink. “Ron told me you landed three days ago.”

She gulped, feeling his hurt absorb her. “Well, I just got settled in and recharged, you know. I- I was going to text you.” Which was true; she did intend on keeping her promise to Harry at the airport, but didn’t know when the appropriate time would be- how do you know the right time to text your ex and first love to casually catch up?

He hummed, taking a sip of his beer. She absolutely despised cold Harry, she could feel it emanating off of him. “It’s fine,” he said, ostensibly lying. “I was catching up with some other people from school anyway. Remember Cho?”

Oh, he was cruel, bringing up his ex like that. “Obviously,” she almost spat. As if she could forget.

“Saw her and Neville, Hannah and Luna the other day.”

She had half a mind to mention Dean Thomas, her boyfriend right before Harry in her sophomore year, reaching out to her asking to go for a drink, but couldn’t find it in her to do it, so instead she just mirrored his cool and pretend unbothered tone. “I don’t remember asking, but thanks for the information.”

Harry’s frown became more clearly defined. “Fine, sorry to bother you.”

She felt a chill as he walked away from her, a familiar ache pooling in her abdomen. They were fighting like they were teenagers rather than grown adults. It was unlike him to start it- it was usually her- but she couldn’t really blame him, though. She knew at the end of the day that she was the main culprit, that she made him ache the way she did because she didn’t know how else to hold it on her own.

She watched him return to her brother Ron’s side and take another large sip of his beer. Ron’s wife and one of both Ginny’s and Harry’s closest friends, Hermione Granger, gave Harry an appraising look and then walked over to Ginny. Hermione gave her a short hug and then said, “Alright, which one of you said something stupid this time?”

Ginny scoffed, pulling away from her friend. “Oh, it’s nice to see you too, Hermione.”

“I saw you yesterday. So which one of you started it?”

“Obviously he did! He had the audacity to mention hanging out with Cho Chang to me.”

Hermione gave a look of utter exasperation. “That’s a new low for him.”

“I know!”

“But I’m assuming you replied with equal spite?”

She sputtered, crossing her arms. “Maybe so.”

“Well, you should have texted him, Ginny.”

“He should’ve texted me! ” she whispered sharply.

“But you told him at the airport-”

“No, I know that, but- I mean, he should have texted me after…” she trailed off, feeling ashamed of herself for being this upset. “After your wedding last year.”

“You mean after you two slept together again after my wedding last year.”

“Well, yeah. Once I got back to L.A. at least. But nothing.”

“You could’ve texted him then, as well.”

“Whose side are you on, anyway? I know Harry’s been your best friend forever and everything but I’m your sister-in-law! Doesn’t family by marriage mean anything to you?”

Hermione shook her head and rubbed her temples. “You two really need to sort out your issues on your own. But if it helps to know, he wasn’t really ‘hanging out’ with Cho. We were out with him and the others as well, Cho wasn’t in our group, she just happened to walk in with Michael Corner and they stopped by our table and said hi for a quick minute.”

“She’s dating Michael? My ex-boyfriend Michael?”

“Oh, yeah, they’ll be engaged any day now,” Hermione informed her.

“That lying piece of-”

“You’re both to blame here,” Hermione declared, using her I’m Putting My Foot Down voice. “Just act like adults for once and sort it out. Properly.”

Guilt enveloped her throughout the rest of the night and she hated how such a small exchange could do this to her, as she had to act like everything was okay, be happy for her brothers and talk about her life in L.A. and as a famous soccer player and sell the life she was living as one she was satisfied to have.

By the end of the evening, before he could leave, she found Harry by himself sitting and reading something intently on his phone. She took a deep breath and walked over to him. “Mind if I sit here?”

He looked up for a second, shook his head, and continued staring at his phone. She eased up just a tad, as she could tell his silence wasn’t his I’m Ignoring You silence, but rather his I’m Deep In Thought and Concentration silence. “Everything okay?” She asked, and when he glanced her way she gestured to his phone.

He gave a half-laugh, half sigh, looking back at his screen. “Yeah, it’s just some of these parents have no boundaries… emailing me during the holidays- on a Friday night no less. I’m just reading through them to decide if any of them are worth responding to outside of my automatic away signature.”

“Is this for the football team kids, or your English Literature students?”

“My Lit students, but there is some overlap. I have this one student, Danny, who’s a really great kid, and his parents are real dickheads, and they’re mad that he got a B+ instead of an A, despite me telling them last quarter that a B is a great grade, and Danny’s already self-conscious as it is and could use encouragement rather than nitpicking over bullshit-“

He caught sight of her face and quickly cut himself off, a blush spreading across his cheeks. She realized she was smiling- it was always nice to see Harry talk passionately about something- and quickly adjusted her facial features. He cleared his throat and closed his phone. “They can probably wait until after the holidays for me to repeat myself, I suppose.”

“I think that’s the right call,” she assured him.

He exhaled, running his hands through his hair and then over his face, trying to wipe off his exhaustion with it all. “Thanks.” He put his hands on his lap and looked at her fully, as he refused to do a couple of hours ago. “Ginny, I’m sorry-“

“No, I’m sorry,” she interjected. “I told you I’d let you know when I’d be here and I didn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I let my frustration get the better of me,” he said with a sigh. “Classic Harry for you.”

She laughed, folding her legs into a pretzel in her seat. “Can’t blame you, really, as I’d probably behave the same.” She let out a breath and continued on. “Look, I did mean to text you and tell you I was back. I just… I don’t know, I was stupid, I thought it had to be the right timing, but I guess that doesn’t make much sense.”

“What, were you waiting for a sign or something?” he asked. He was joking when he asked, but as he processed the look on her face he rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Wow, Gin. You never stop amazing me.”

She blushed and laughed nervously, thinking of all the times in the past Harry had said something like that to her. She wanted to hear more of it, over and over, even when he’s saying it in jest. “That is what I do best.”

His features sharpened a bit and he leaned forward. “Well, how’s me asking to see you tomorrow for a sign?”

She put her hand on her chin and pretended to think about it. “A pretty good one, I’d say.”

[locktobre]

You get to pick exactly ONE Barbie movie to eradicate from existence. Which is it and why? (If this is too negative though you don't have to answer)

Ooh, this is a great question... Several came to mind immediately, but really, when I think about it, it HAS to be Puppy Chase. Puppy Chase is when the franchise went to hell, bc it’s stupid from the ground up.

I’ve talked about how much this movie sucks before, but I’ll do it again, just for fun.

Firstly, you can’t take dogs to Hawaii (well, you can, but it is a lengthy and expensive process), and like fine, it’s a kids movie and maybe they don’t care about that and maybe it wouldn’t bother me so much if LOSING THE PUPPIES wasn’t the entire fucking PLOT. Like if they were just there, fine. But if the whole PLOT is about them, fuck off. This is when the writing on the puppies got stupid, and it was only the second movie they were in lmfao. And this is when them never being on leashes becomes straight-up life ruining. I could excuse it a little bit in Great Puppy Adventure, bc Willows is a small town and the puppies end up actually being useful at a few points, but in Hawaii? FUCK OFF. ENTIRELY.

Secondly, this movie also rests on Barbie herself being a complete idiot. They don’t book a car before they get there, that’s stupid. Barbie--any Barbie, really, but how about the one from SPRING 2016 in Spy Squad--is a rational, prepared person. Yes, she’s 17 and can therefore be immature, but C’MON. That’s trip planning 101, making sure you have transportation when you get there! I would not harp on this so much if, again, the entire movie didn’t unfold the way it does bc they got stuck in that stupid fucking golf cart.

Thirdly, Barbie is completely selfish in this movie. She totally ignores what ALL THREE of her sisters want, but the worst is Chelsea, bc CHELSEA IS THE WHOLE ENTIRE REASON THEY WENT TO HAWAII IN THE FIRST PLACE. AND BARBIE DOESN’T CARE. Chelsea is nervous and wants to go to the hotel and practice, but does Barbie give a fuck? No! They have to go see the dancing horses! It’s more important than CHELSEA’S DANCE COMPETITION THAT BROUGHT THEM TO HAWAII.

Fourthly, watching 4 children from ages 6-17 get lost in the wilderness for like 2 full days makes me so anxious. I know kids read this stuff as “cool adventure,” but an adult like myself is thinking, “where are their fucking parents or just any adult to help them please god they need it.” It’s also just stupid, bc the only reason they get lost is bc Barbie tries to drive THROUGH THE TREE with their STUPID FUCKING GOLF CART bc they’re GOING AFTER THE PUPPIES. The plot is so stupid and it rests on so many stupid, avoidable mistakes! It’s not funny or clever, it’s not a perfect storm of mishaps or anything, it’s carelessness from both the characters and writers. Awful all around.

Fifthly, there is also racism in this movie. I know this is probably further down my list than racism ought to be but I’m going in roughly chronological order here. I myself am white, and the only time I went to Hawaii I was 4 years old and I don’t really remember anything about it, or how the hospitality industry is there, or anything. But hearing a native Hawaiian woman tell a random white girl she can call her “Auntie” feels... really off to me. Like, isn’t that more for ppl you actually know? Plus, every time they run into a woman on the island they’re like oh you’re that other lady... Which makes sense at the end, when you see Hannah, Anna and Savannah all together and you can see they’re identical triplets, but feels weird when they’re encountering them, bc like... not all Hawaiian(/non-white) ppl look the same... And yes I know it’s a joke bc these women are actually identical, but it just feels weird in this context. This I will admit, maybe I am overreacting on, but maybe not.

Because there is also Lindsay. Lindsay is a little Black girl also in the contest, who practiced hard (we see her dancing as she gets off the plane), performed well, and also, y’know, followed all the rules and was actually there at the contest. She was there and was about to win. But then along comes Chelsea, a little white girl, who missed the ENTIRE fucking contest--which isn’t even her fault bc of Barbie/the puppies, yes, but it still happened--and she is allowed to perform anyway and she wins. Even tho it’s a solo dance contest, and Chelsea is joined by everyhorse and their fucking mother, Lindsay hands over the trophy. FUCK that. FUCK that whole thing. Fuck special little white girls taking awards from hardworking Black girls. (I know I’ve complained recently about Brooklyn’s treatment in BCBD but literally it’s not even the first time they’ve done this bullshit lmfao.) So with Lindsay and the Hannah/Anna/Savannah thing, it is just not a good look.

Sixthly, the dance competition that Chelsea is in makes no sense (I mean, none of it makes sense, but especially this). Each girl appears to be doing an entirely different style of dance, so how and why are they competing against each other? It really doesn’t seem like they’re in the same class, bc again, they’re all doing different things. And why does this contest even have to be in Hawaii? What the hell? Is this a national competition, or local, bc either way, it does not make sense for it to be in Hawaii. How is it not in the continental US? Oh, bc Hawaii is “exotic” but still America I guess. And this also rubs me the wrong way bc of, y’know, the fact that Hawaii is stolen, tourism is ruining the islands, etc.

So like, every single part of this movie sucks. Like, literally every part. The animation isn’t even cute. The songs are forgettable. The plot is a mess from start to finish, like it’s just utterly illogical at literally every turn. I hate it. I hate it SO fucking much.

Anyway maybe if I erase this movie from existence, all the other trash that followed would not happen, or maybe it would be better, or something. This is literally when it all went to complete shit. We peaked with SLA in fall 2016, and then we immediately bottomed out with Puppy Chase, harbinger of doom, also in fall 2016. What a nightmare.

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

Emergency! Part 1

Part 1 – Plane Crash

Summary: Dean and Cas are partners at Fire Station 51’s paramedic squad and are responding to their first of many. A plane crashes into an apartment complex, multiple fire stations respond to put out the fire and rescue any victims trapped. But RN, Y/N Y/L/N, happens to live in the very complex involved in the plane crash. Though unharmed, she commits her time to aid and assist in the victims coming out of the building and the plane. The rescue turns sideways on Dean when a beam drops onto Dean, damaging his oxygen tank, he quickly turns into a victim as he quickly succumbs to smoke inhalation and becomes Y/N’s patient.

Warnings: Mild angst (relationship), slight language, fluff?

Square: Firefighter!AU ( @supernatural-jackles​ Tell me a story Bingo)

Word Count: 1,784

Mobile Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: DOA = Dead on Arrival. Y/L/N = Your last name. But I hope you guys enjoy!

~

She got up at her usual time of 5am to be at the hospital by 6:30am.

Not much of a coffee drinker, she just got her a mug filling up with soda, the soda being her caffeine for the day.

She got into her scrubs, grabbing her nametag, pens and her personal notepad.

Ready to hit the road before traffic begins to pick up on the freeway in Los Angeles, she grabs her wallet, phone and keys she locks up to leave for her day at work as a Registered Nurse at Rampart emergency hospital.

Just as she got to the street to her car, there was a loud noise growing louder. She looked in the direction of the noise to see a plane, crash landing into her own apartment complex.

Ducking beside her car at the impact of the plane she was also thankful for her timing.

Quickly she dials 9-1-1.

Dean got up at his usual time of 4 in the morning to begin his 24-hour shift at the station.

Dean is a paramedic and squad member at station 51.

He pulled his truck into the parking lot, still trying to wake up.

His partner was already there.

“Cas, do you ever sleep man?” Dean asked.

“Slept on the couch again.”

“Are you and Hannah okay?”

“No, we had a big fight again last night. I don’t know what I can do for her anymore.” Cas says, defeated.

“Just end things man, you need sleep, and you need some peace of mind. I got room at my house for a roommate if you need a place.”

“Thanks Dean, but I already had plans of ending things with Hannah, last night was just the nail in the coffin of yet another failed relationship.”

“She failed it man, you did nothing wrong.” Dean encouraged.

“Thanks man.”

Dean offered a kind smile and a pat on Cas’s shoulder.

“Ready for another long shift?” Cas asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, my dad here yet?”

“Yeah, he’s in the office why?”

“Wonder if he got the invite to Sam and Jess’s wedding.”

“Bought damn time that kid popped the question honestly.”

“I know, he and Jess dated for what seemed like forever.”

“You really think they’re still sore at each other, I mean John of all people should know he can’t control what his kids want to do.”

“Yeah, I don’t know, that’s why I was gonna ask if he got it.”

Cas nods.

“I saw you put in for a three-day weekend, what’s going on?”

“Just wanting to take a trip out to the campgrounds outside of town to the family cabin, Dad says the deck could use some work and I was gonna kill two birds with one stone. Camp out and help dad fix up the deck.”

“That sounds cool.”

The fire stations alarm sounded.

“Truck 27, squad 27, engine 47, squad 47, Engine 51, squad 51, structure fire at Purgatory Apartments 1366 south Millard Ave.”

“Lots of trucks and engines responding, must be big.” Cas states. Jumping into action.

“Must be.” Dean says running to the squad truck, jumping into the driver seat, Cas jumping into the passenger.

Dean turned the keys in the ignition, roaring the Ford Truck to life, and turning on the lights and siren. Heading out onto the road, with the firetruck, Engine 51 following behind.

 “This is RN Y/N Y/L/N, I have multiple victims at 1366 Millard Ave. A plane crashed. 3 already DOA, I need help right away.” She says into the phone.

“We’re working on it; we already have multiple firestations responding to your location. Just keep aiding in the victims as best as you can Ms. Y/L/N.” dispatch for 9-1-1 says.

She continued chest compressions on a victim and did 2 rescue breaths. And checked his pulse, still no change.

She sat her phone off of her shoulder and on the ground, so she could focus on reviving the victim.

One more attempt at cpr, she checks his pulse, still no change. Placing his hands over his chest, she says a silent prayer.

“I’m sorry.” She tells the people watching over her as she worked.

“Where is your help?” a lady asked furiously.

“They’re on the way, LA Is a large ass city, and you know how traffic is in this town.” She says.

She was already frustrated with the losses she didn’t need an attitude from anyone.

The sound of wailing sirens in the distance brought relieve to the nurse as she worked tirelessly on the victims.

Engine and squad 27 and 47 being the first on the scene.

“There are people trapped in the buildings, and there were about 45 passengers on this flight. 4 are DOA so far.” Y/N stated to the captain of the two fire stations as they approached her.

“Alright, I’ll send my guys in.” Captain of station 27 stated.

“I’ll let the other stations as they come in to assist.” Captain of station 47 stated.

Another fire engine’s siren wailed as it approached.

The men jumping into action.

“Winchester!” the captain of station 47 shouts as he approached engine 51.

“What do we got?”

“Unknown number of victims trapped in the complex, 45 passengers or so from the plane. 4 of them were DOA. Oh, and she’s a nurse, thought I’d mention that she could help us out.”

“Right,” John Winchester, captain of station 51 agreed.

“Alright guys, we got to work fast, there are people trapped in these two buildings, we need to clear them out. Tran, get the engine ready so we can use the hose. Gabe, and Michael, work on the fire with the other stations, Benny, Raph, and Charlie, aide the paramedics, either from 27, 47 or Dean and Cas, we need to save as many as we can, alright?”

“Yes sir.”

“Get to it.”

Everyone went to where they were instructed to. Dean and Cas got their equipment from their truck and went into one of the buildings, full fire fighter gear.

“Dean!” John called out.

Dean stops, giving John his attention.

“Be safe in there son.”

“I will dad. Don’t worry.” He says, running in.

There were a good handful of people able to move and get to safety on their own, and another handful Dean and Cas had to carry out of the building.

One woman, sprained ankle from trying to escape hastily, as Cas carried her out she nearly flew out of the man’s arms.

“My daughter, she’s in her room!” she cries out.

“I’ll get her, Cas, get her out of here.”

Cas nods, doing as told.

Dean inspected the rooms, finding a seven-year-old girl, hiding beside her bed covered in a wet blanket.

“Hey, I’m Dean, I’m gonna get you out of here.”

The girls nods.

Dean kept a protective arm around her as they exited her room.

A beam creaked, and gave way above Dean, hitting his back.

He heard a loud pop, like a large pop can exploding.

He found it hard to breathe through his oxygen mask.

Taking off his mask and tank he saw rupture in his tank.

“Shit.” He hissed.

His lungs were quickly taken over by the smoke, he started coughing immediately.

He noticed the girl was already gone.

He tried to get up to hurry and save himself but he felt a sharp pain in the back of his leg.

He looked behind him, he saw the beam pinning him down by his leg.

Overcome by the coughing, his world began to turn black.

 Y/N finished placing a splint on the womans ankle when a child ran up to her and the group of firemen.

“Jamie! Baby!” her mother cried out, holding her arms out to her daughter.

“Mommy!” she cried.

“Where’s Dean?” Cas asked.

“A beam fell down and knocked him down. He’s stuck.” She says.

Without another word exchanged Cas took off to the apartment they rescued the woman.

The fire was slowly getting under control and it was easier to see inside the apartments. Cas was able to spot Dean out in the apartment easily.

He laid on his stomach, still and unmoving. Cas can see the beam pinning against Dean’s thigh.

He saw the beam was not supporting much of anything. He ran out, seeing Michael carrying an axe.

“Mikey, I need that!” Cas shouted.

“What’s up?”

“Dean’s stuck.”

Michael ran towards Cas and he saw Dean, inspected the beam. Saw the same as Cas, the beam not being much of importance to the structure, he begins working on breaking the beam in half.

The wood was badly damaged by the fire, he was able to break it in three strong hits.

Once he was free, Cas picked Dean up and carried him out over his shoulder fireman carry style.

Once he reached the nurse, she prepared an area she could work on Dean.

“Is he breathing?”

“He didn’t have his mask on, the tank was damaged.” Cas answered.

“More than likely smoke inhalation, lay him here and I’ll start working on him.

He did as told, laying him flat on his back.

She checked his pulse, and breathing, matching up to the fireman’s statements. And began chest compressions.

After 35 chest compressions she gave 2 rescue breaths. And checked his breathing, he’s breathing but it was shallow.

She placed on an oxygen mask over his mouth.

After ten minutes or so of the mask being on him, he began having a coughing fit as the air returned back to his lungs.

“He’s gonna be okay but we need to get him to the hospital, need to check out that leg.” Y/N said.

The men and women of station 51 nodded, agreeing with the nurse.

 Later that night as she made her rounds, she walked into Dean’s room.

“Good evening Mr. Winchester, how are you feeling today?”

“Sore.”

“That’s expected having a beam pin your leg down, and the smoke inhalation.”

“You saved my life, thank you, Miss….”

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N. And it’s no big deal, all part of the job.”

“Right, saving people.”

“The family business.”

“You’re family work here?”

“Yeah, my mom was head nurse at this very hospital, and my dad was a neurologist here. I was basically born and raised here.”

“Nice, my dad’s captain of station 51.”

“Awesome. But other than that, no pain at the moment, you don’t need anything?”

“No, just a number.”

She smirked, with a nod.

Writing on her notepad, her number. She ripped the paper out, handing it to him.

“Call me sometime, Winchester.”

He held the paper, unable to hide the wide grin.

“Definitely will.” He says as she walks out, continuing her shift.

~

Are you excited yet? I’m posting as I write this, probably a bad idea, but story of my life. Like what I got so far? Let me know, ask, reblog. Feedback is fuel. :3

~

Dean girls:

@pandazombie69​, @luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @jayankles​, @mlovesstories​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @jeaniespiehs20​, @akshi8278​, @lyarr24​

~

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