#and I’m almost done when my sister comes out and sad that my cat got in my room and killed one of my plants n got dirt everywhere

[makkie-is-screaming]

I fucking can’t today

[i-did-not-mean-to]

ℍ𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕟

The people have spoken in this poll.

Here is the Bonus chapter to my TSF (S)wiped out.

True to the spirit of the story, the title is a song title. (Honest Man by Ben Platt)

Words: 4.8 k (I've tried to make it worth your while)

Characters: Thorin x Bilbo

Warnings: Some internalised homophobia, some insecurity, a kiss

Bilbo looked up in surprise when Thorin ambled into the bar on a Thursday night, dressed to the nines, and holding a pitiful bouquet of daisies in his broad hands.

“Did one of the ladies convince you after all?” he asked and almost set the glass he was drying down beside the counter in his puzzlement; there was a sick, unhappy feeling in the pit of his stomach that he didn’t want to investigate.

It was but surprise, he tried to tell himself. He had been at the garden party, and he had seen the women completely forget about Thorin within half an hour of their arrival.

At least the first date was having a good time, drinking Dwalin under the table, while the sopping wet cat of a lady had been utterly engrossed in telling her whole life story to a very sympathetic looking Ori who had awkwardly patted her hand at regular intervals.

“She’ll get him to marry him before the day is over,” Bilbo had whispered.

Visibly surprised, Thorin had narrowed his eyes and shrugged. “Better him than me, I’d say.”

“It’s not the crystal-peddling one, is it?” Bilbo now asked and shuddered at the thought of the woman who had been kicked out from the festivities after conning Kíli into buying a whole stock of utterly useless stones and oils.

“What?” Thorin blushed; he had not listened to a word Bilbo had said because he was so relieved to see a friendly face. “What about her? I’m sure she’s in jail or in an institution by now—ask me if I care.”

“Do you care?” Bilbo complied with a crooked grin.

“No, maybe the dragon lady can get her off lightly—why are we talking about my failed dates again? It’s done, it’s over—Dís had a funeral for my potential and we’ve all wept.” Thorin gave a short bark of laughter and gingerly put the flowers down on the counter in front of Bilbo.

“Either way, Bofur has invited the last one to an exposition on doilies,” he then explained slowly. “He was so thankful for the introduction that he…his cousin has a restaurant, did you know?”

Sniggering, Bilbo shook his head. He had been delighted to meet Thorin’s friends and family, but he was far from remembering everyone who had attended the garden party, let alone recall what they did for a living.

“So, I’ve got a reservation—very sought after, I’ll have you know—courtesy of Bofur…and I wanted to invite you.”

Picking up the same glass again and polishing exactly one hand width of the rim, Bilbo stared at Thorin in confusion. “Me?” he finally squeaked. “Why?”

“You’re the only good thing that has come out of this ordeal,” Thorin admitted sheepishly. “You had my back through the whole thing, and I wanted to show my…gratitude.” It was but half a lie, a euphemism really, he told himself encouragingly as he saw Bilbo’s face cycle through a multitude of contradicting feelings within a few seconds.

“Would it be too sad to invite your sister for dinner?” Bilbo quipped, but his voice was a little unsteady on the delivery of the snarky undertone.

“Oh, if I have to sit through another evening with a demanding, dissatisfied, disapproving female anytime soon, I’ll run mad,” Thorin groaned, “be she my sister or the currently reigning Miss Universe.”

“All right then,” Bilbo agreed, forcing his cheery nonchalance to the surface with all his might. “I reckon it cannot do me any harm to eat in another establishment for once. When is your reservation? I’ll see if I am free.”

“Whenever you are free,” Thorin replied just a little too fast and too fervently. “I’ve not settled a date yet—I wanted to check with you when you’d be available.”

Bilbo blushed furiously. It hit him like a ton of bricks that Thorin had not invited him because he had not found anybody else to go with him on a particular night—he had wanted Bilbo specifically to spend the evening with him in a fancy restaurant and had taken precautions in his planning of the outing to make it so.

Having watched Thorin jump through every imaginable flaming hoop in the name of being a good date, Bilbo of course knew how dedicated the other man was to these things, but he had never considered the possibility of ever being on the receiving end of such generosity and kindness himself.

“Tomorrow? I can find someone to man the fort for me—I’ve not taken time off in years, I think I deserve that,” Bilbo mused out loud.

“Tomorrow it is,” Thorin said, confident that he’d get a table for the next day. Bilbo could appreciate and even envy that kind of self-assurance and faith.

“Do I meet you there or…”

“I can pick you up here or…”

Lifting a slightly trembling hand to his burning cheeks, Bilbo scribbled his home address on a cocktail napkin and handed it over jerkily—it was surprisingly hard to pry his fingers off the cheap paper though.

“Shall we say 7 o’clock?” Thorin asked, his eyes gleaming with triumph and boundless joy.

Bilbo nodded, feeling increasingly like a wooden doll that had been turned into a real boy unexpectedly.

“Good, I am looking forward to it. Wear something nice!” Thorin chirped and turned to the door without having ordered a drink; usually, this went against the house rules and would have merited a stern scolding by Bilbo but, on this one occasion, the flustered barkeeper decided to make an exception.

“Thorin!” he called faintly. “You do know that I am gay, right?”

There, it was out. Bilbo thought that it had been implied and referenced often enough for Thorin to get the hint, but he wanted to make absolutely sure that neither one of them was misconstruing what would happen the next day.

“Hmmm,” Thorin hummed over his shoulder, winking at Bilbo with a flash of charisma he had not lavished liberally on his female dates. “That’s why I brought you flowers. There are more where those came from, you know?”

“I love flowers,” Bilbo exclaimed passionately before he could remember his good manners and remind himself not to look overeager or spoiled.

“Then you shall have them,” Thorin grinned. “See you tomorrow!”

Bilbo snarled like a feral creature at this wardrobe; the old, weathered wood did not think his frustration worthy of a reply though and merely kept gaping at the fool its owner was making of himself out of its open drawers and doors.

“Wear something nice,” he muttered under his breath as he discarded the cream-coloured shirt he had been wearing for the last 5 minutes—he had given that one a longer chance than the five that had been tried and rejected before.

Picking up the third shirt again, he eyed it suspiciously. He liked the rich green colour and the fabric felt nice under his fingertips, but the cut was rather unfortunate as it would allow Thorin to see the smidgen of pudge he had not been able to get rid of. Pilates and conscious eating be damned!

Thorin was not a monster, he tried to remind himself; he had sat through dates with five women who had looked very different from one another, and he had not cancelled or aborted any of his meetings on account of their appearance.

Surely, he would not hold the negligible lack of perfect fitness against a man he had mainly seen only partially as Bilbo tended to hide behind the bar whenever he got flustered.

Nevertheless, Bilbo wanted to look his best, lest Thorin suspect that he was taking this date less than seriously. Maybe, he thought uncertainly, that would actually be for the better—just in case the brooding beauty had merely joked about the flowers.

Better not get his foolish hopes up! And he should hurry. And he had forgotten to comb his curls after the shower and now they had dried in a tangled mess. And it was almost time. And he had not even started on the trousers…

Just as he was about to have a panic attack on account of all the things he had clearly not considered well enough beforehand, Bilbo was interrupted in his downward spiral by the sound of his doorbell being rung.

Necessity and urgency made him jump into a nice pair of light brown trousers and pull the tight, green shirt over his unkempt head while shuffling towards the front door.

“Oh hey,” he huffed as he pulled it open, feeling like a proper romance novel hero.

Instead of the expected face—chiselled, bearded, and gleaming with mischief—he looked into a luscious bouquet of multi-coloured flowers.

“Good evening. Am I early?”

Checking his wristwatch and suppressing another groan, Bilbo assured Thorin that he was right on time. “I had a hard time choosing what to wear. Is this nice enough?”

The flowers were lowered instantly, and the electrifying glow of those startlingly blue eyes washed over a woefully agitated Bilbo appreciatively. “Absolutely perfect,” Thorin praise and extended his elbow to Bilbo. “Shall we?”

“2 minutes,” Bilbo promised, took the flowers, and dashed into the kitchen to put them into a vase. As he heard Thorin rummaging in the foyer, he allowed himself to bury his face in their fragrant beauty for a short moment before running back out and valiantly trying to slip into both his shoes at the same time.

“Don’t let my eagerness put any pressure on you,” Thorin said kindly. “We have time. I just thought we’d go there early so you can order the most complicated cocktail on the menu and watch someone else make it.”

“I am hardly that pitiless,” Bilbo snorted and shot back up as if pulled by a string. “I am all ready. Let’s go!”

In the end, Thorin did convince Bilbo to order a fancy cocktail while ordering a beer for himself.

“Bottle of that one,” Bilbo tapped the fancy card laid out in front of him, “I’ve seen what you’ve got on tap, and I think this one will be much better appreciated!”

The barkeeper stared at him for a moment before shrugging and complying.

“Ah, to have one’s own barkeeper,” Thorin sighed contentedly. “This is already a better date than any of the others!”

“Glad to be of service,” Bilbo laughed and moved the basket with peanuts resolutely out of Thorin’s reach. “You’re snacking me out of a home,” he explained with a wink, “and we’re here to have dinner, so I won’t let you ruin your appetite by gorging yourself on nuts! They only put those out because they make you thirsty.”

Staring longingly at the snack, Thorin nodded nonetheless and turned his hungry, intense gaze fully on Bilbo.

While waiting for their table to be ready, they talked about their families, their friends, and their plans in life.

“I’ve always wanted to work with people, you know? I love the bar, but it’s not as if that was all I’ve ever dreamed of…” Bilbo said dreamily, berating himself only vaguely for having downed that cocktail much too fast on an empty stomach—he rarely indulged in alcohol himself as it made him emotional and much too honest.

“I know a guy who works in construction,” Thorin replied candidly. “If you ever want to expand the business, I can give you his card.”

“Sure thing,” Bilbo giggled and leaned back, only to realise—a moment too late—that the barstool did not have a backrest. A broad, strong hand kept him from toppling from his chair though and then, Thorin’s warm breath ghosted along the shell of his ear as he pushed a discreet card over.

“That is your card,” Bilbo snorted after a single glance. “Couldn’t you simply have given me your number?”

“After all the time you’ve spend fiddling with my phone, I think you could have simply saved yours in it!” Thorin shot back, a bit miffed.

“How do you know that I didn’t?”

“I’ve checked.”

There was not much Bilbo could say to that. “All right,” he grinned and pocketed the card. “I’ll call you. About the expansion. And other things. Depending on how this evening goes…No, actually, I think I’ll call you anyway, if only to yell at you!”

“Deal,” Thorin quipped and nodded at someone across the room. “The table is ready.”

Surprise and amazement surged within Bilbo as soon as he saw it—there were slim, white candles and pale pink roses. This truly was a table laid for an intimate date rather than a friendly dinner, and he couldn’t keep his cheeks from warming visibly.

For a single heartbeat, the world seemed to stop in its tracks and every truth he had ever accepted placidly slid out of place—Bilbo suddenly longed for more. He wanted to be brave enough to turn around and simply kiss Thorin, in front of a full restaurant and his extended family, he wanted to expand his business into serving real food and maybe even offering a few rooms for rent, he wanted more than the comfortable life of a well-liked bachelor. He wanted this—this table, this atmosphere, this man—forever.

And then, that uniquely fragile and heart-wrenching moment passed, and they went back to discussing everything and nothing.

When the first course was served, Thorin realised that there had not been a single uncomfortable silence in their conversation and that he felt relaxed and happy instead of tense and miserable in a potentially romantic setting which was the first time in long years.

“So, no news from your ladies?” Bilbo circled back to the subject that haunted him.

“Hmmm? Oh yes, some keep me posted about their life. I am a great listener and a cool friend to have,” Thorin replied easily, snatching a piece of bread out of the basket Bilbo had tried to move out of his direct line of sight.

“I know,” Bilbo commented dryly and gave the breadbasket back with an apologetic shrug.

“It’s all the same,” Thorin explained slowly between bites, “friendship and love, I mean. Most of the time, it just doesn’t click and then you’re better off as friends, wouldn’t you agree? No need to throw the baby out with the bathwater.”

Bilbo nodded cautiously. “Do you think the opposite can happen as well? Falling in love with a friend?”

Instantly, Thorin’s eyes lit up like a chemical fire. “Isn’t that the dream? Falling in love with a friend and being loved back? That’s what dreams are made of!”

For someone who had just dragged himself through his dates as if bearing a calvary, Bilbo thought. Thorin seemed very convinced of his theory and enthusiastic about the prospect that such a thing could happen to anyone.

“So, there’s still a chance for some of them?” Bilbo couldn’t believe his own words—why couldn’t he just let it go?

“No way,” Thorin immediately assured him. “Romantic, then platonic, then romantic again? I’m afraid that goes a bit too far. No, I just want to find someone I am comfortable with.”

He should not have agreed to the delicious bottle of wine Thorin had ordered and from which a discreet waiter kept filling up their glasses, Bilbo realised at the very moment his treacherous tongue went off like a shot. “Indeed,” he heard himself say, “I am convinced that you deserve so much better than these women. None of them has even tried to get to know you or has cared even one bit about whether you wanted a refill or were hungry, or bored, or uncomfortable.”

His voice kept growing louder and more animated and yet, Thorin merely grinned at him as if his clumsy rant was pure poetry. He looked so handsome in his white button-down and dark trousers that Bilbo somehow couldn’t stop himself from complaining about how he thought none of the women deserved a second chance as they had failed to express the appropriate level of appreciation for the kind, handsome, and charming man with whom they had had the honour of spending the evening.

“My glass was always full,” Thorin reminded Bilbo gently, “thanks to you. Moreover, you’ve healed my heart by pouring all the compliments you apparently thought I missed out on upon my undeserving head right now.” His sturdy hand came to rest on Bilbo’s pacifyingly. “They are no longer important; let’s talk about something pleasant instead. Did you like your flowers?”

“Of course,” Bilbo replied and nodded his head so vehemently that his curls fanned out like a golden halo. “That was a very nice gesture. What would you like to discuss then?”

Pressing his lips together to prevent any stupid, premature outburst to ruin his chances, Thorin collected his thoughts for a moment; he was astonished and delighted to notice that he had indeed learned something during the martyrdom of his recent dating history.

He also found that he didn’t really care at all—his tense shoulders relaxed, and his smile softened gradually as the stress of the last weeks just melted away. “Anything is fine by me, anything but them. What do you have planned for this weekend?”

“Work,” Bilbo snorted. “As any other day. I’ve thought about maybe trying to get a Sunday brunch thing going.” He tapped a finger against his plush, inviting lips pensively.

Thorin’s eyebrows travelled up his forehead as a new idea took hold in his head. “If I come by to look around the premises and tell you what is possible in terms of expansion, I’d take a test-brunch as my payment.”

“Is that so?” Bilbo cocked his head. “It would only be you and me though.”

“It’s only you and me now,” Thorin commented astutely. “Just the way I like things, as it turns out!”

“Well, then, by all means, be my guest. I’ll prepare a spread for you that you won’t forget!”

Somehow, Thorin did not doubt that for a single second. Bilbo was a man who truly enjoyed food; he had become the mesmerised witness of the profound and otherworldly pleasure his guest could take in a well-prepared meal, and he yearned to see that blissed-out expression on Bilbo’s soft, mobile features more often.

There were many things he longed for, now that he came to think of it: the amused little side-glance Bilbo gave him when he got extraordinarily huffy about something utterly irrelevant, the beaming smile a slightly buzzed Bilbo cracked whenever Thorin said something even remotely funny, and—more than anything else—the quiet gaze of solidarity and affection he had caught from the corner of his eye at times. Somehow, Bilbo seemed to intrinsically feel or know just what was needed to save Thorin from a disagreeable situation or an extended session of senseless brooding.

“Any allergies?” Bilbo asked, interrupting Thorin’s realisation that he could not remember ever having enjoyed a date half as much as this dinner.

“Hmm? No…sorry, I was miles away in my thoughts.”

“I could tell. Are you tired, do you want to skip dessert?” Bilbo asked gently, patting Thorin’s hand to make him understand that he was neither angry nor disappointed. “I feel like I’ve eaten my own weight already anyway.”

“Maybe,” Thorin replied with a wink, “next time? I have been told that Bombur’s chocolate soufflé is to die for.”

Bilbo’s eyes lit up at the word “soufflé” and, true to his nature, he didn’t need any more convincing or coaxing after that.

“By the way, I am not tired, no,” Thorin said when he saw a thickly laden spoon full of gooey deliciousness be ensconced firmly between Bilbo’s lips. “I was just thinking how much I like being here with you.”

“You don’t think I am a gluttonous pig?” Bilbo mouthed around his spoon, his eyes twinkling with good cheer and sugar-fuelled ecstasy.

“I don’t,” Thorin assured him; he had never given the gender of his potential partners much thought before. He had always surmised that he was just the kind of man who was only attractive to a select group of people that kept dwindling fast as the years went by—that set had been comprised of mainly women by chance or accident thus far, and Thorin had had no say in the matter or reason to contest that.

If that was about to change now, he thought placidly, he wouldn’t object to changing his habits and adapt his expectations to the reality of his prospects and desires.

Never in a thousand years would he have presumed to find such a comfortable and yet exciting potential lover in a surprisingly prim barkeeper with a wicked sense of humour and a deep love for flavourful food. Bilbo evidently loved life and—seeing him celebrate others’ successes without reticence or envy—reminded Thorin of how much he had sacrificed throughout his own existence.

“You make me feel alive,” he confessed, “the way you eat, the way you talk, the way you smile at me. It’s as if you could turn back the time and make me believe that it’s not too late for me to be happy. Is that cheesy?”

“Yes,” Bilbo nodded, licking his spoon, “but I love cheese. Actually, the olives they served with the bread. Do you know where they get them from?”

“They pickle or brine or marinate them themselves,” Thorin replied sheepishly. “I do not know. I am a mediocre cook.” That was a bold lie; his cooking was positively awful, but he didn’t want Bilbo to know. After this charming evening, Thorin would crawl to his sister and implore her to impart her valuable wisdom to redress that flaw as soon as he could.

“Hmmm, I wonder if they’d share the recipe,” Bilbo mused aloud. For a moment, Thorin was taken in by his casual musings, but then he realised that Bilbo’s eyes were just a smidgen too feverish now even though his initial inebriation had worn off long since.

“What is the matter?”

“Are you playing me, Thorin?” Bilbo asked in a quiet, shivering voice. “I am not like those women; I don’t put my heart on the line recklessly.”

“I am not. Why do you say that?”

“I’ve watched you go on dates with 5 women in about as many weeks,” Bilbo exclaimed, clapping his hand over his trembling lips when a few other stragglers turned to him in startled surprise or outright annoyance. “I…Do you even…”

“I don’t care,” Thorin said firmly, the conviction that he was on the right track constantly growing within his heart. “I just know that you make me feel good about the world, life, and myself. When you’re around, everything seems a little brighter and less fatal than I’ve always thought it’d be, and I want that in my life.”

“A friend,” Bilbo muttered. “I can be your friend—you’re an amazing person to be around and you’re, as always, too hard on yourself. You’re actually not so bad yourself and you’ve been the only source of entertainment these last few weeks—I really have to get something new going to spruce the old dig up.”

Me, Thorin thought desperately. In his mind, he could see it—a crystal clear vision of perfect bliss. He’d come to the bar after work and sit by the counter, telling Bilbo about his day.

His friends could come, and maybe his disastrous dates could become regulars as well, who knew? He certainly wouldn’t mind keeping them in his life as casual acquaintances.

Saturday sessions on the job site, Sunday brunches. Everything—his plans of letting his nephews slowly take over more important clients and bear more responsibility in the firm as well as Bilbo’s designs for his own place—suddenly made sense.

Despite the late hour, Thorin felt invigorated and refreshed as after a long and restful night.

“Bilbo,” he interrupted the frantic babbling about avocado toast and different swatches of pastel colours gently but firmly. “I am not asking you to be my friend.”

Thorin took out his wallet and left a generous tip, knowing that Bombur would send the actual bill to his office for discretion purposes. “Let’s go; it’s a fine night and I think we could both do with a little digestive walk, don’t you think?”

Nodding dumbly, Bilbo allowed himself to insert his hand into the crook of Thorin’s elbow and be led out of the fancy, by now almost entirely empty, restaurant as if he was indeed the guest of honour of the night. A soppy smile struggled to take hold of his mouth and distort it into an unforgivably silly expression of emotion, but he managed to bite it back just in time as Thorin’s luminous gaze fell upon his face.

“Oh, you were made to be seen under the stars,” Bilbo whispered as all the blues, blacks, and silvers of Thorin’s complexion melted into the background of a starry night sky to create an ephemeral work of art that was painted by the hands of fate just for his own momentary enjoyment. “If only I had known—I’d opened the outdoor seating for your dates.”

“Humbug,” Thorin chuckled. “They’d have fallen ill and I’d have had to foot the bill for their medical expenses. Thank you, but no, thank you.”

Steering Bilbo confidently, he took him to an outlook platform over a small river and they felt the cool night air make their hair dance in the fragrant breeze. The whole scene felt absolutely magical and otherworldly to Bilbo who sighed longingly under his breath.

“As much as I love your bar,” Thorin said in a low, vibrating voice, “there are many places I’d want to take a date outside of it. This is but one of those.”

Bilbo hummed patiently, turning up his face to bask in the beauty of his companion—he had only ever seen Thorin in the pub and, now that he had spent a whole evening with him, he had to agree. Indeed, he himself desired to see Thorin in other contexts: illuminated by flickering candlelight and bathed in the pale gleam of the moon, sitting in the blazing afternoon sun…and waking up to the first, shy rays of the nascent morning.

“I think,” Thorin went on, lifting his hand to grip Bilbo’s chin tenderly between his thumb and crooked index, “that I want to take you to those places. Are you game? You don’t have to…I mean…There’s no need to spare my feelings now out of pity only to break my heart later.”

Instantly, Bilbo’s own heart started throbbing in empathy and affection; Thorin had experienced so much rejection and disappointment lately that he came to simply expect that things would end badly for him.

Nonetheless, he had been brave enough to try something completely different and ask out someone who was not at all in the usual pool of potential partners for him—and he had done marvellously. Bilbo could not remember having ever gone on such a beautiful and utterly bewitching date before, and every fibre of his being dreaded the end of this night.

What if it had all been a dream?

“I’d love that,” he replied breathlessly, resolving to match Thorin’s reckless courage and giving in to foolish hope against all odds.

“Good,” Thorin grinned winningly.

A moment later, his lips—warm and sensual—brushed against Bilbo’s in a tentative kiss that felt like a caress and tasted sweet and refreshing like a splash of spring water.

Damn it, Bilbo thought hazily, and threw his arms around Thorin’s neck, giving his massive frame a vigorous tug until they collided in the stillness of the picturesque night scene like two meteors burning across the endless black backdrop.

Their kiss turned feverish, thrumming with words unspoken and questions unasked, while their hands roamed forcefully and desperately across each other’s backs and sides as if in search of something to hold on to as the world spun out of focus.

“I’ll come by on Sunday,” Thorin promised as he finally pulled back; his face radiated with joy in the ambient obscurity and his thumbs brushed caressingly against Bilbo’s shivering ribs. “And I’ve changed my mind about the price of my consultation. A brunch, yes, but also about two thousand more of these kisses. Generous as I am, I shall let you pay them off by regular instalments."

"Sounds like a deal,” Bilbo agreed, dizzy with relief and anticipation. “How about you come by Saturday night and allow me to make a down payment after closing time?”

“Ah, you’ve got a sound mind for business,” Thorin cackled, pulling Bilbo into a tight, warm embrace and leaning his bearded cheek against the top of the curly head of the shorter man tenderly. “I can see that we’ll get along just fine.”

@lordoftherazzles, @mysandwichranaway thank you for your encouragement and your support.

Lots of love from me!

And all my gratitude to the Bagginshielders for having voted so fervently for their OTP; I hope I could bring this story to a satisfactory close for y'all.

[changingplumbob]

Chopra Household: Chapter 6, Part 6

New Year's Eve family style.

If Viola is attempting to say something it will be in brackets, otherwise you can assume it's just trying out sounds Mercedes has a speech delay and may get words wrong, correct wording will be in brackets if that is the case Savannah aka Honeybee Mercedes aka Little Ladybug Viola aka Green Bean

New Year’s Eve means face paint and matching cat ears for the whole family! This is followed by a small dance party.

Viola begins fussing. The music may be kids radio but my cautious infant still finds it too loud.

Viola: *cries* ga lu doo (my ears hurt)

Cassandra: Come up here little green bean, it’ll be okay

Mercedes: Dancing fun Viola!

Savannah: I love the music mama

Cassandra: *rocking Viola* I’m glad you’re having fun. Anyone got any resolutions?

Mercedes: What res loot tin

Cassandra: A goal you want to achieve in the next year

Savannah: I want to be butterfly

Mercedes: Me to!

Cassandra: Sounds good to me

Viola: *fusses* ca ne boo da (music is loud)

Cassandra: Can you say mama? Huh? Mama

Viola: sa loo da (mama mama mama) *giggles*

Mercedes: *yells at the top of her lungs* IT NOT FAIR

This sudden increase in noise causes Viola to begin wailing again.

Rahul: Mercedes, do NOT yell like that. It upsets your sister and it’s not nice for me and mama either

Mercedes: But Viola make fun of me! She heard I have true bell (trouble) talking and she make fun! She LAUGHED!

Here Mercedes pitches a proper fit, throwing her arms and legs around as much as she can. Cassandra tries to soothe a confused Viola while Savannah oh so innocently bangs away at the xylophone and Rahul tries to stop Mercedes flailing about before she hurts herself.

Rahul: I know this may be difficult to understand but Viola does not know enough to make fun of you. She’s still an infant ladybug, Viola laughs when she's happy. If someone does make fun of you, you just tell papa or mama and we’ll figure it out together

Mercedes doesn’t understand most of this yet but it sounds like papa is on her side which must means she wins against Viola!

Cassandra: *sighs* Big guy I think Mercedes could use some cheer up playtime

Mercedes: Playtime???

Rahul: *laughs* okay but please try to go easy on me this time little lady

Rahul picks up Mercedes and begins to swing her around, making her giggle in delight. Viola meanwhile has settled back down so it’s time to try some new things.

Cassandra: Alright green bean, you lie down there

Viola: he naa du (suddenly the ground is not blurry)

Cassandra: Now crawl to me, come on. Crawl to mama

Mercedes: She staying mama, she no brain

Cassandra: She’s staying for now but she can do it. Come on Viola, crawl to mama

Viola: ne laa du... gee rey (Is that blurry lump you or... is it that one)

Savannah: Mama maybe... Viola broken?

Cassandra: Girls, you should understand it takes time to learn things. It’s not nice to poke fun at people needing some extra help or encouragement. You'll make them sad

Mercedes: What co rage mint (encouragement)

Viola bursts into tears and hides her head in her arms.

Viola: *cries* hee na du (why is moving so hard)

Cassandra: Encouragement is…

Savannah: Being brave!

Cassandra: Almost honeybee. Encouragement is... cheering someone up so they can do things like be brave. Or crawl to mama!

Viola looks up, tears still flooding her face, unencouraged.

Mercedes: *focused on stacking rings* You try Viola, you try

Savannah: Go go! *taps out victory xylophone beat*

Cassandra: Now now green bean. I’ve seen you push yourself up on all fours. You’ve done that before. Crawling is that with a few extra steps

Viola sniffles but manages to push herself up to all fours. At least for a moment. She does crash back down pretty quickly.

Cassandra: It’s okay green bean, maybe we’re just not ready to crawl yet

Mercedes: *pouts* I can walk

Cassandra: Oh ladybug I know. You’re are doing very well with your walking, and going up and down the stairs

Savannah: I go up down stairs at… what it called mama

Cassandra: Occupational therapy. If you want we could shorten it to something to make it easier to say

Savannah: Yes. I want Mercedes be able to say

Cassandra: Well the brochures said it’s also called OT so how about we try that?

Mercedes: Savannah do OT. I want good name to

Cassandra begins moving the girls to the dining room as it smells like Rahul’s finished the dinner. Mercedes of course wants to be carried which means back carrier time for Viola.

Cassandra: What name do you want for your speech therapy then

Mercedes: You pick mama, you pick good for me

Cassandra: What about… word class?

Mercedes: Word class? Yes, yes!

Savannah: MAMA! PAPA! My chair dirty *cries* I NEED food mama

Cassandra scoops up the fussy toddler and deposits her in Viola’s normal chair while Rahul sets about cleaning Savannah’s regular one. Mercedes has a good appetite but they’re also learning she’ll get extra fussy when she’s hungry. The best solution is food as quick as possible.

Rahul: Here we are! Mercedes what’s wrong? I thought playing cheered you up

Mercedes: *sadly* I talk bad

Rahul looks at Cassandra. They were worried about this following the psychiatrists visits. They may think their daughters are amazing but what to do when their daughters don’t believe it? They are technically behind others their age and will likely require extra help throughout their schooling. They need to know home is a safe space.

Rahul: I like to hear you talk little ladybug

Cassandra: So do I! And I love to hear you sing

Savannah: And me! We twin talk, it best talk

Viola: he na duu (I don't even talk)

Mercedes: *sniffles* I not talk… bad?

Rahul and Cassandra assure her she doesn’t and eventually Mercedes cheers up enough to start eating.

Savannah: The food nice papa

Rahul: Thank you Savannah. Now Viola, how about we try… carrots?

Viola tastes and pats at the lumpy mixture but following the emptying of the jar she is still unsure about the whole thing.

Following the late dinner Viola is put to bed and the Chopra’s gather in the lounge to countdown to midnight. Since the twins had long afternoon naps they manage to stay awake for the new year, hugging when the TV announces it’s hit midnight. Cassandra and Rahul being the love birds they are share a kiss before carrying the twins to bed.

Previous ... Next

[jessnotfoundd]

Well I’m glad your liking my requests !! Sorry I’ve been so quiet today, I’ve been out but I’m hoping you’ve had a good day/night ! I do have a request though, as we know Dream has Patches. So do you think you could write Dreams reaction to the reader coming home with a cat that they got from the shelter, after they said they were going out just to grocery shop. -🎃

Omg your ideas are always super cool anon! <3

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧

Pairing: cc!Dream x reader!

Masterlist here!

I and the guys were back from San Diego and sapnap used the last things we had to make launch so it was time for grocery shopping.

I was writing what we needed so I wouldn't forget anything, and after asking George and Sapnap if they wanted me to bring them something special o anything in general I was ready to leave, not before telling Clay I was leaving.

-I'm leaving, wanna come?- I ask but as soon as I realize he's editing a video I already can tell he's not coming.

-I'm a little busy right now.- he makes me sit on his lap.-But, we can watch a movie or something, just the two of us.- I laugh and nod.

-Yeah, that sounds cool.- I lean my head to rest my head on his shoulder. I kiss his neck and stand up.

-Can you buy some food for Patches? she's almost running out.-

-Yeah, I got it.- I show him the list and he smiles.- Well, enough, I'm leaving- he brings me down for a kiss, and then I'm free.

The final thing on my list was patches of food, after I paid for everything I see across the street a shelter, it wasn't too bad just to say hello to a few buddies after all, right?. So after locking down the car, I made my way to the little shelter when I enter I see all of the dogs and cats and a few other animals, but mostly dogs and cats, and my heart broke. How people can be so mean to leave them.

-Hey- an old man and a lady come to me.-Looking to adopt some of these buddies?- she goes with a smile.

-I just came to say hello, it breaks my heart, I wish I could adopt all of them.- It's there when I realize she's holding a baby cat and I melt.

-Oh, this is molly, she's the last one, her little brothers were already adopted.-

-Oh, you're lonely?- I caress a finger through her head and she closes her head.

-Wanna take her? she's two months old.- she passes me the little kitten and I fell in love again.

Should I? would the guys be so mad if I take another cat? are patches gonna feel aside or left out? but look at this little baby.

-Well, I can give her all she might need.- I smile with the little kitten in my arms. She looked so little and warm.

-Perfect, ill bring some papers, adoption is very serious for us.- I nod and she disappears.

-You're coming home with me.- I smile at the little creature in my arms, who's already falling asleep.- You'll have a sister and amazing dads.- I smile at the thought of Sapnap and George obsessed with the kitten but patches and Clay for another side, I hope at least feel cool about it.

When I pull into the garage of the house, Sapnap it's already there to help me take the grocery inside the house. But when I leave the car and he sees the little baby in my arm he loses it.

-Omg, hello buddy- he takes the little car in his hands and I smile, I knew he was going to be okay with this. -You didn't tell me you were getting a baby home.- I smirk.

-It's not planned I was saying hi to the animal in the shelter and the lady told me she was left alone because his others brothers were already adopted. And I feel a little sad about it so I decided to bring her home, I hope Clay and patches don't kill me.- I cross my arms.

-Go tell Clay, I'll take the grocery inside.- he smiles and gives me back the little kitten. I nod and go inside the house, I walk straight to Clay's office room and when I enter he turns around. I hide the kitten in my arms, which looked like they were just crossed.

-Hey, you took forever to come back.- he pouts and I smile awkwardly.

-Yeah, I've done something.-

-What.- he already prepares for something terrible and I can tell, because when I take the kitten out to show him he relaxes.- Why?- he gets closer to me and I tell him the same story I told sapnap.- oh, poor baby- he takes the kitten in his hands and I smile capturing the image of both of them in my eyes.

-Yeah, that's what I said.- I smile and he looks at me again.

-Has a name?-

-Yeah, the lady told me she was named molly.-

-Hello Molly, want to know your sister?- he passes beside me and kisses me.- Come, let's give patches the idea you had.- he laughs and I do so.

-At least she's not alone anymore.-

-Yeah, guess you're right.-

Even tho I thought Clay wouldn't be so happy with the new kitten, I was wrong, after that he was a lovely dad with both of his girls, he would give the small kitten some milk at the respective times and would make sure patches don't feel left out.

-I guess I'm ready to have a baby - he blurts out while we were getting ready for bed.-

-But you already have two- I said not getting the point.

-No, I mean, a human baby.- he looks at me while I'm brushing my hair.

-Yes?- he nods.- well, maybe in a few years, you might be ready but I'm not, and guess who has to carry the baby for nine months?.- We both laugh and I lay down with him, patches and molly with us.

[noctumbra]

𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍

summary ─ “i’m so glad that we came across to each other,” bucky said. “it really felt nice to catch up with you, to talk to you.”

pairing ─ fuckboy!teacher!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ fluff, seeing each other after yeeeears later, coffee shop conversations, catching up, EPILOGUE

a/n ─ i said i wasn’t sure about writing this but i couldn’t stop myself because i want this soft and sweet closure for them without tears lol. thank you for all the love you’ve given me throughout this trilogy series. i’m really thankful. also i’m sorry for making y’all cry a lot djhfdjhf. this is the epilogue. hope you like it. please leave a comment if you do! thank you! i love you all <3

previous part ─ series masterlist

  TEN YEARS LATER

You exhaled a sigh of relief as you threw yourself into your favorite coffee shop, finally getting the chance to escape from the scorching heat of the sun. Stepping away from the door, you closed your eyes for a second. The cool breeze of the air conditioning was hitting your face so nicely, you felt like you could cry.

Shivering lightly, you opened your eyes and walked towards the short line in front of the register. You deserved a grande coffee after the very busy day you had. Your eyes were hurting slightly because you’ve been looking at the computer screen for hours now.

“Thank fuck the weekend is here,” you murmured to yourself as you fished your wallet out. You heard the guy in front of you humming in an approving way, and you froze for a second. “I should have whispered,” you said, and the guy chuckled this time. Grimacing to yourself, you decided to shut up.

As you waited for your turn, you started to watch people around you. Everyone was either tired-looking or way-too-jittery-looking because of all the caffeine and sweets. Most of them had come here with a friend, you realized and frowned lightly. Inhaling the freshly brewed coffee smell deeply, you moved your eyes to the guy in front of you.

He was tall. He had dark brown, mid-length hair, it was a bit longer than mid-length, though, you noted. He had whites peppered in it, and it looked good. He had a navy colored suit on him. The suit jacket was hugging his broad shoulders very nicely, and the suit pants he had on was complimenting his thick thighs. You hummed silently to yourself. You moved two steps forward, eyes still on the guy, as the people on the register was done with their order. It was the guy’s turn.

“Hello,” he murmured, and you felt a lick of familiarity. “Can I get a black coffee, grande?” You frowned. The guy’s voice was familiar. You watched him grabbing a small protein bar. “And this.” The boy at the register nodded as he punched in the order, and the guy in front of you pulled his wallet to pay.

You saw the hand tattoo. Your eyes widened.

“Name?” The boy asked. The guy looked up briefly.

“James.” You watched his hand as he pulled out some money and gave them to the boy. He was wearing the rings from─

“Bucky?” You asked, surprise audible in your voice. Bucky startled, his shoulders went stiff and he turned around. His baby blue eyes bored into yours as they widened with surprised.

“Y/N?” He breathed. “Oh my God.” You let out a chuckle.

“There you go,” the boy said, handing out the extra money. Bucky cursed lightly as he took the money and stepped aside. Just as he opened his mouth, his name was called. You saw him clenching his jaw. Your smile widened. “What can I get you?” You blinked, returning to the real world.

“Cappuccino, grande. Non-lactose milk, please. No foam,” you said your order and handed out the money. The boy nodded. “Y/N,” you gave him your name without him asking for it. The boy worked quick; he told your order and gave your cup to the barista and handed some of your money back. You bid him good day before you walked towards where Bucky was still standing.

Goddamn, you thought. He looked good.

The whites in his hair were also in his stubble, covering his chin slightly. He looked grown, albeit a bit older, and the crinkles around his eyes made him look more handsome than he normally was.

“Holy crap, Y/N,” Bucky said, his eyes moving up and down on your body. “I can’t believe you still look as gorgeous as before.” You chuckled, feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks after literal years. “Not that I expected you to look bad, by the way,” he said, rolling his eyes. You smiled. You grabbed your coffee when barista called out for you and turned to Bucky.

“Wanna recharge together in one of those tables?” You asked, pointing at the coffees. Bucky chuckled and nodded.

“Of course!” He said. “I would love to.”  

Both of you walked towards an empty table near the café windows. After you settled, you looked at him. He looked happy, you realized. He didn’t look haunted or sad anymore. He looked healthy and happy if not a little tired.

“You look great,” you said softly. “You don’t look so… sad anymore.” Bucky smiled. Taking a sip from his coffee, he nodded lightly.

“I’m… good,” he decided to say. “I swore not to lie to you again and I’m not gonna start that now,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t so good after our last talk, but time helped.” Bucky shrugged, his fingers were playing with his coffee cup. “I had time to focus on myself, and then my job. It kept me busy but also gave me some time to heal. So, I’m good.”

You smiled fondly at him. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” you murmured. “You deserve to be good, Bucky. I’m glad you’re now. I just hope you’ll be better soon.” You watched him blush, your smile widened and turned soft.

Bucky shook himself and straightened up on his seat. “Tell me what you’ve been up to,” he said, excitement shining in his eyes. “I haven’t seen you for ten years. Are you a cat mom or dog mom or a real one?” You let out a surprised laugh.

“Bold of you to assume I want to be a mother, Buchanan,” you deadpanned. Bucky grinned toothily. “…I have a cat,” then you added. Bucky chuckled.

“Knew it,” he said, snapping his fingers. You rolled your eyes. “’s fine. I have an asshole for myself waiting me at home.” He rolled his eyes like you. “I swear he hates me and wants to kill me, but he doesn’t because I feed him.” You laughed, almost snorting out your cappuccino. Bucky grimaced at himself and then chuckled.

“Murderous cats,” you muttered. “I had an encounter with them once or twice.” You nodded seriously. “She tried to trip me and scared me to the death, so.” Bucky giggled. “She’s the cutest, though.” Bucky smiled. He knew that feeling all too well. You sighed.

“How’s teaching? I see that you kept your tattoos, but goodbye piercings?” You asked, eyebrows high on your forehead. Bucky grunted. It wasn’t a happy sound.

“Apparently, me having piercings might provoke the students to get the same look? They told that I cover my tattoos with my clothing but can’t hide my piercings, so they had to go. ‘s bullshit.”

“…It is,” you agreed because it was. “Your hand and neck tattoos are visible, and they were troubled with your piercings? Yup, bullshit.” He grunted again and sipped his coffee.

“Love the students, though,” he added without you asking. “They’re dumb sometimes and goofy almost all the time, but I love them.” He smiled. You could see that he really did love his students. He was great with children ─shocking, yes─ and seeing him being happy with his work was making you happy.

“I’m glad to hear that. You were weirdly good with kids,” you said, looking at him over your coffee. Bucky narrowed his eyes. “It was cute, don’t get me wrong. I just didn’t expect from someone who looked the way you did back in college and be good with kids. I was shocked when I learned that you were going to be a teacher.” Bucky snorted.

“I love teaching,” he defended himself with a faux-offended face. You grinned. “I enjoy telling them things that make them go ‘wow’ and love seeing them use what I taught.” He shrugged. “How is editing?”

“Ughhhh,” you groaned. “Don’t get me started.” He looked at you, eyes wide and half-grin visible on his face.

“Oh, okay,” he said and then giggled. “I feel like you have a lot of feelings bottled up in there.” He pointed your head, and you grunted like he did a couple minutes ago.

“People who don’t even know punctuation are sending me their works, and they are brave enough to tell me that they wanted it published.” Grunting even more, you sipped your coffee. “It’s a pain to read all the cringy, too fast moving works and editing. It feels like I’m re-writing their whole work.” Bucky frowned slightly, tilting his head to his side.

“Why do you work there, then?” He asked. “You could go back to school and do something extra? Or become a professor there?” You eyed him.

“I’ve been thinking about that for some time, now, to be honest,” you admitted. It wasn’t a lie; you were thinking about going back to school and maybe spend a couple years there and start teaching. “Been looking up my options. I’m still not quite sure, but the idea is there.”

“Well,” Bucky said, draining his coffee. “Let me know. I might be able to help in some way, maybe.” You smiled.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you murmured. He sent you a cheeky wink. “Tell me more!” You exclaimed. “You told me you’re a cat dad, what else?”

“I’m an uncle,” he said and then wiggled on his seat because it still made him giddy. “I have like two nieces now, my sisters like to procreate.” You chuckled. “Oh, do you know Sam Wilson?” You frowned.

“From Psychology Department?” He nodded. “Yeah, I saw him a couple times.” Putting your cup aside, you leaned forward. “What about him?”

“He got married to Natasha, the Russian Literature girl? The one that we both found scarily hot?” Giggling, you nodded. He grinned. “Well, they’re married now, and have a daughter.”

“No shit,” you said.

“Yes shit,” Bucky kept grinning. “Steve’s gonna get married in two months. Someone called Sharon Carter─”

“Wait, is her aunt Peggy Carter?” Bucky frowned, but nodded. “Holy shit, I work at Carter Publishing. She’s my boss.” Bucky laughed.

“Okay, nice coincidence,” he murmured.

“Damn,” you whispered, making him laugh again. “Give me more gossip, please. I’m obviously hiding under a rock.” Smiling, Bucky leaned forward on the table, too.

“Alright, hear me out.”

─

You talked about everything and anything for hours.

Bucky talked about his job, about his students and his plans for future which included going back to school and becoming a professor or something, so that he could teach at a university. He also said that he was going to miss his ‘high school dumbasses’, but he wanted to become better at what he was doing. He also talked about his siblings, he had three sisters, and his parents a little. He showed you a couple pictures of his cat, a very pretty white cat named Alpine, and his parent’s dogs, two German Shepherds.

“They’re so handsome,” you exclaimed when you saw them. Bucky chuckled.

“They are,” he agreed. “They’re also old.”

“Bleh,” you blurted, making him laugh. You felt a satisfying, warm bubble building up in your chest as you bit your lip and watched him laugh. Your feelings for him were still there, still present. You never stopped loving him, and you knew you were always going to love him. He was the one for you, but your story wasn’t meant to be end together. You knew and accepted that now.

You told him about your life, your job and future plans, too. You talked about your doubts about going back to school, and Bucky somehow helped you soothe them. He encouraged you, told you that you were going to be amazing and it wasn’t late for you to go back to school. You thanked him as you moved onto talk about your cat. You showed him a picture like he did to you.

“You have a Siamese!” He cried out. “Damn, he is handsome.” You chuckled.

“He is, but he’s the biggest asshole I’ve ever known,” you grumbled. Bucky giggled.

“Hey, cats are cats. They meant to be assholes,” he said.

“Hear, hear.” Both of you chuckled.

The silence fell between you was a happy and content one. You talked about things, made each other laugh and smile, and both of you saw that how much the other had grown. It was nice. Seeing him was nice.

“I know I apologized before, but I want to apologize again,” Bucky murmured softly after a while of silence. “I’m sorry for making you cry and for hurting you. You didn’t deserve any of the shit I put you through. I was an asshole, I know and see that now,” he added. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” You smiled. Reaching out, you held his warm and large hand. The sense of familiarity consumed you.

“I have forgiven you years ago, James,” you murmured as softly as he did. He squeezed your hand. “Things happened, but both of us were still children.” Your smile became a little sad. “Obviously, we weren’t meant to be. I wish we were, though. I wish we were meant to be, but we are not. It’s okay. You’ve apologized before and owned up your mistakes. Thank you. I forgive you.” Bucky’s hold in your hand tightened just a bit more. You squeezed it right back. “I forgive you. It’s alright. We’re alright.”

Bucky took a deep breath. You could see that he felt lighter. His guilt must have been eating him alive, you realized, and your heart gave a painful thud at the thought.

“You have no idea how good it feels to hear that,” he said, slightly breathless. You just held his hand tighter and smiled wider. “I wish we were meant to be, too, Y/N. I─” He paused briefly. “I still love you. I have never stopped loving you, and I probably will never stop loving you. No one was you, and I doubt that someone will ever be you. I know now that we’ve grown out of each other. We might still love, yes, but…”

“It’s not enough anymore because even though we still love each other, that train took off,” you finished. He nodded. “So much has happened, and it changed us. Yes, Bucky, I get it. I still love you, too, and will always love you, but it’s not enough now.” He nodded again. Both of you sighed, feeling lighter and happier out of a sudden.

“I’m so glad that we came across to each other,” Bucky said. “It really felt nice to catch up with you, to talk to you.”

“Me too,” you agreed immediately. “I─” You held his other hand. “I’ve missed you, Bucky. It was very nice talking to you.” You looked at each other for a couple minutes before pulling back. You ignored how cold and empty your hands felt after he pulled his back. Standing up quietly, you grabbed your things. You walked out of the café together.

“I would like to see you sometimes,” Bucky said. “As friends. I would love to be your friend, Y/N.” You agreed. You didn’t want to deny him anymore. You wanted him in your life.

“I would love that,” you murmured and gave him your number. Bucky added you in his contacts and sent you a text.

“I will see you later, then,” Bucky murmured. It felt so good to say that, he realized. After saying goodbye to you many times, it felt amazing to say that he’d see you later. You smiled fondly.

“I will see you later,” you murmured back. Bucky gave you a nod and a large smile. Both of you bid good night to each other and walked opposite directions on the sidewalk.

This time, it wasn’t a goodbye.

This time, it was a promise to see the other again.

It was a nice, blossoming friendship.

─

[l4verq]

fight back | b.b

bucky barnes x enhanced!reader

in which bucky won’t lay a hand on you no matter what :(

tags : a little brawl, fluff cause icanthelpmyself, mentions of blood, john walker (idk if we're supposed to like him now ??) bucky is a cat lady okk

fic : one shot

a/n : inspired by that scene in the final ep of tfatws when karli is screaming at sam to fight back lol😳

|| gif by @unearthlydust ||

-

one world, one people.

you repeat it in your head one more time, when he comes into view, vibranium gleaming onyx with loops of gold.

you know that he knows you’re here, back to the wall a few feet away, peeking at him.

he doesn’t know that you let him know.

doesn’t know that you laid out a trap and just like the foolish mouse, he walked right into the lion’s den.

although you’re not sure who the fool actually is, when you meet his eyes, knees almost buckling at the sight just cause of how long it’s been without them.

“y/n.” he breathes out, almost in disbelief.

it’s been fourteen months since he woke up to an empty bed and a handwritten goodbye letter folded in a clean white envelope, tucked under a pillow still marked by the soft indentation of your head.

fourteen months since you took off in the dead of night, pulling your- his hood over your head, the cold wind nipping at your skin, almost like it was punishing you.

maybe, it saw what you did.

oh, but fred definitely saw what you did, that damn cat always followed you two around even though it’s owner was the blonde next door. her name wasn’t even fred, bucky came up with it after the third time it snuck into the apartment.

he swore he hated it but always seemed to have a treat lying around in case it did come.

and it did, a lot. neglected by it’s owner, it chose to seek comfort in the couple next door, and sometimes a meal or two.

“sorry, no treat today bub.”

fred scowled - honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if an actual human was living in it - mewling as it came up to you for the usual chin rubs and cooes.

you sighed, caving into it’s antics, squatting to pet it.

cradling it’s head into your palm, she was purring, a very uncommon sight. fred doesn’t purr, she scratches and hisses at anything and everything that moves.

“you’re particularly nice today.” you commented, getting up. it mewled even louder this time but you turned on your heels and headed for the stairs.

you were already late.

your legs picked up pace quickly, easily crossing multiple blocks over in a few long strides owing to the blue serum coursing through your veins.

though your mind remained stationary, fixated on a single face, how it’d crumble at the sight of the letter, how he’d probably end up hating you.

“took you long enough.”

her auburn locks were tied into a loose braid that curved around her neck, the tip sat just below her collarbone, a piss poor job held together by a thin maroon colored band.

it was quintessentially her, the lack of utter patience to spend two minutes looping three knots of hair one over the other.

you jogged over to the other side of the black suv, noticing a stark white rectangle where a liscence plate should be.

“he’s knocked out cold,” you asked as soon as you grabbed the door handle open, “how?”

lazropthalein.

it came in the mail in a brown package, no return address. bucky wasn’t home, he had a scheduled therapy session down the block.

just a pinch is enough.

the text from the unknown number read.

it had no odour, a clean, white colour to it that blended in seamlessly with the flour.

“you baked without me?” bucky gasped, dramatically, hand covering his gaping mouth. his other hand carried two plastic bags, filled to the brim, a purple razor was poking out the top.

he even had to drop the poor bags on the floor, just to emphasize the utter shock he felt.

“i got bored.” you giggled, wiping the countertop with a wet cloth, remnants of flour on the sleek marble turning goopy under it.

“traitor.”

“it’s just cupcakes.”

“still a cake.”

you sighed, “you’re a five year old.”

he huffed, trudging towards the living room, shoulders hunched to really hone in on just how devastating this was for him.

“don’t i get a hug?” you held your arms out, making grabby hands, following him.

apparently, the devastation was to the point where he had to bring out the big guns, the sad baby blues.

the act lasted for another minute? at best. hours later, he was happily munching away.

“i know why it tastes so good.” he moaned, smacking his lips.

your smile faltered a little, did he kn- no, there’s no way he could have known. you burned that little plastic bag as soon as you dumped a pinch in.

“yea?”

he grinned, popping the last bit left in “it was made with your love.”

“how did it work?” your voice rose several octaves higher, amplified further by the cool, silent night.

drugs and sedatives don’t work on supersoldiers yet a certain blue eyed one was back home, unmoving even if you screamed right into his ears.

“dr wilfred, he invented it. the power broker wanted something to balance out our,” she flared her hands at both of you, “super-soldierness, so that we don’t have an upper hand when all’s said and done.”

would the either of you even be alive when all was said and done?

“look, i know you didn’t want to do this but james, he won’t understand. he’s not one o-..”

“yea, can we jus- let’s just get out of here.” you get in beside her, whipping the seatbelt over your torso.

the car was stuffy, felt like a choke around your neck that only seemed to tighten more and more.

“if we go now, there’s no coming back.” she glances at you, hand curled over the gearstick ready to position it in place.

she was giving you an out, one last chance. karli was a lot of things and having a heart inside that cold, bitchy exterior was one.

“i know.”

you sunk deeper into your seat, the hoodie had a faint smell of burnt toast and that cologne which was on sale, almost half off if you cut out the taxes.

it smelled like him, too much like him.

until it didn’t after a few days. but you still slept with it, just outright refusing to wash it despite karli’s snarky remarks about hygiene.

hygiene could go fuck herself, for all you know.

compared to the motels and basements you guys shifted around in, that hoodie was a doctor’s scrubs.

when the moon hung low on the black sky, you tried not to think about him too much. the silence didn’t help, you needed something to drown out your thoughts. that’s when the ‘socialising’ with the other flag smashers started. they were nice.

nice cause you were the leader’s little sister. but also a huge fucking liability because of a certain supersoldier hot on their heels in search of you, ruining every goddamn plan so their niceness was.. limited.

karli was a natural when it came to it, all of it. the talking, rallying of supporters - fuck, she just had a way with words. she could make you believe she hung up the stars in the sky.

probably how she convinced you that holding a room chock full of council members hostage right smack in the middle of nyc was a good idea.

the only idea, more precisely.

you guys had the upper hand, more than a handful supersoldiers at your disposal, capable of taking down the entire military force if you so pleased.

the only playing card they had was one supersoldier, who was better off distracted, kept off the field.

so who better to send to do the deed than the love of his life.

“fred had a baby. multiple babies, spawn of the devil if you ask me. always running around, thrashing the place up.” he takes small steps towards you, slow and calculated, as if a lion stalking around a prey.

“you shouldn’t be here.” you lie through your teeth, a tiny white compared to the ones that’ve rolled off your tongue before.

“i think the neighbours call me a cat lady now,” his eyes shift around and he leans in to whisper, “they haven’t even seen my knitting skills yet.”

“stop.” you think you said it or much rather whispered it, your voice was failing you. he’s getting close, too close for your liking so why aren’t you backing away from him?

“fred misses you, you know. she wonders where you went.” he smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

the hairs on your neck shoot up, a slight twitch of your brow. the way bucky’s ear perk up, you realise it’s not just you and him here anymore.

someone else has arrived.

“i’ve got it handled, john.” bucky turns around, plants him directly infront of you, blocking john’s view of you.

sure enough, it’s john limping in, a nasty gash across his chest.

your blood runs cold because this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

john isn’t supposed to be here, he’s supposed to be fighting.. oh god. you notice the various splatters of blood on his cowl, on his boot, on his shield.

it’s too much blood from a guy who’s barely bleeding.

“really? i was thinking you should do more than just talk.” he spits on the ground and wipes his mouth.

you notice, the spit’s all blood too.

“i’m giving you a chance to walk away, right now.”

john snorts, leaning sideways to get a view of you, neck craned out.

“and leave this prize all to yourself?” he grins, “i’d be an idiot.”

“you have a death wish then.” you lift your chin a little higher, praying your quickening heartbeat doesn’t give away your calm exterior.

john whistles, grimacing as he straightens, “so, she does talk.”

you scowl, crossing your arms.

he’s in bad shape. he has no chance, not that he ever did even in his best shape. he knows that too yet he’s still here. that sends a chill up your spine.

“go, i got this.” bucky tips his head, glancing at you.

“i don’t need you to save me.” you hiss at him, which comes out a little harsher than you intended. an apology dies in your throat as he flinches just the slightest.

“trouble in paradise?” john’s barely finished saying it before he’s reached behind his back and swinging the vibranium

you hear it before you see it stopped mid air by a gloved hand. then you charge.

it’s all a hazy mix of blue and red until your fist connects with his jaw, sound of something breaking ringing in your ear.

something pulls your waist back, a grip far too strong to be just flesh.

“go, i’ll ta-..” bucky’s barely said anything before an upward cut from john connects to his neck, violent coughs ensuing.

you grip john’s arm before he’s even retracted it back, jump up his back, settling around his neck and twist until you hear a crack and a bloodcurling scream following suit.

he whips his head back right into your stomach, seizes that moment when the wind knocks out of you to pull you by your hair off him.

“i told you to go.” bucky growls, kicking john right in the shin that makes him kneel and you almost fall off but you keep your fingers tightly looped around john’s hair, pulling as hard you can.

but he’s relentless.

your head hits something hard and you realise you’re on the ground now, legs loosely around john’s shoulders, him also on the ground.

it’s like the both of you realise at the same time but you’re quicker. your legs tighten around his neck, against the spot where a thick neck muscle throbs. he claws desperately around, straining for oxygen

soon, his hands lull down, the dull thud on the ground confirming his unconsciousness.

“are you hurt?” bucky’s hovering over you, seemingly unfazed by john’s neck in a chokehold by your legs right now.

you reject his hand he extends and push yourself off the gravelly concrete on to your feet.

“this was a mistake.” you trail off, saying it more to your own self.

you weren’t the lion, you were the stupid fox who thought it was.

stupid enough to believe you were over bucky and that everything wouldn’t come rushing back as soon as you laid eyes on him.

he whips you around by your hand and before you know it, he’s already caught your other fist heading for his sternum. you barely feel the grip, it’s soft, just so incredibly soft and fits so right.

you hate it.

rage bubbles inside you, mostly at yourself. partly at him because he’s not screaming at you or slamming you against the wall or jus- anything.

you wrench your hand away, land a swing which he does nothing to block. his grip on your other hand loosens and he still does nothing when another hit to the jaw leaves him staggering,

instead, he looks at you softly as if resigning himself to your anger, to let it simmer off.

“fight back!” you scream, outstretched palms pushing him back.

he stumbles a few steps back, hands reaching out to yours resting on his chest, fingers intertwining yours tightly.

“stop.” it’s a soft plead, tears spiking the corners of his eyes.

“hit me!” you’re practically begging at this point, thrashing your arms around.

his hands grapple at your shoulders, bringing you to his chest, “it’s okay.”

he smells so sweet, just so sweet that you almost believe him.

“i drugged you and i left you and i-,” you inhale sharply, “i killed so many people, bucky.”

the last fourteen months had escalated quickly from doing what’s right to doing what’s needed, lines blurred between moral ethics and survival.

“it’s okay.” he repeats, hand patting your hair, gentle and soothing. your body betrays you, sinking into his touch, his warmth.

“you should hate me.” you whimper.

you wouldn’t blame him if he did. you doubt he could hate you more than you already did yourself.

he pulls back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “i couldn’t if i tried.”

god, why does he have to be so.. bucky?

frustated, you spit out, “this? this was a distraction to separate you and sam.”

you don’t say it but it’s understood, understood that you wouldn’t have met him if not for it.

the inner corners of his brows angle up slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips, “i know.”

your breath hitches, if he knows then wh-

“then, why..?”

you finally look up at him, vision blurry because of the stupid tears pooling at your eyes.

his thumb wipes away a tear dribbling down your cheek, the coldness of the metal a clear contrast to the warm moisture, “you know why.”

-

a/n : this one’s been sitting pretty, collecting cobwebs in my drafts so thought i’d take it out lol, also haven’t been posting fics in a whileeee cause im dumb and i’ve been working on multiple things all at once lol yea this is me rambling and also i just wanna say that i. love. folklore. sm. that whole album has me crying and sad and just :((

[heyiwrotesomethings]

The Perfect Pet

Shinobu Kochou x They/Them Reader AU

A/N: This could be considered a part two to You Cat to be Kitten Me, but you could totally read this without having read the other. I’ll just link the other fic in case you’re interested (LINK). Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 3,454

Shinobu knew when she had let herself be dragged to the animal shelter by (Y/n) that it wasn’t going to be a simple visit. ‘Just to look,’ they had promised, but now, here Shinobu was watching (Y/n) stare up at her from their crouched position on the floor as they rubbed the puppy’s belly with hopeful eyes.

“No.” Shinobu said, not unkindly.

“I didn’t even say anything yet.” (Y/n) pouted in return, scratching the soft puppy’s furry neck.

“It’s written all over your face. We are not getting a dog, (Y/n).” Shinobu hated to tell them no, but she really couldn’t stand such furry animals.

“How about a cat?” (Y/n) asked, looking just as hopeful.

“No.”

“A bunny.”

“No.”

“A ferret.”

“No.”

“A—“

“(Y/n), we’ve talked about this. I’m not living under the same roof as some slobbery, wiggly, furry beast. If you want to play with an animal so badly, you can always visit Mitsuri’s cat, or her new rabbit too for that matter. Is that what brought this on?”

“A little,” (Y/n) stood up, forgoing eye contact with Shinobu to scan the rows of animals.

“A little, hm?” Shinobu crossed her arms, “and whatever else could possibly be at play?”

“It’s nothing,” (Y/n) shook their head, “want to grab lunch now?”

Shinobu tilted her head and gave (Y/n) a questioning look. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t nothing. Still, she wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of this stuffy room and wash her hands. She could question them about it later.

“Lunch sounds wonderful.” She smiled, looping (Y/n)’s arm with her own.

They waved at the volunteers and thanked them before heading out of the shelter and back to their car. They drove to one of their favorite spots with outdoor seating that overlooked the river, talking casually and laughing together while they waited for their food to arrive.

“You remember I have been invited to be a guest speaker at Kyoto University next week, right?” Shinobu had asked between bites.

“Yeah, why? Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, nothing is wrong per se, I was also asked just recently if I could stay a few days more to oversee a new experiment. You don’t mind do you?”

“Of course I don’t mind, dear. I love how passionate you get about new projects. I hope you have fun.” (Y/n) smiled, though something seemed a bit forced about it from Shinobu’s perspective.

“Are you sure? I haven’t committed to it yet.” Shinobu tested.

“I’m sure, really. Why are you giving me that look?”

“What look?”

“The worried, suspicious kind of look.”

“It’s just that you have seemed kind of out of it since we left the animal shelter. You said it was nothing, but I’m not quite sure that’s true.”

“Shinobu, it’s fine, really,” (Y/n) assured as they paid for the meal, “do you want to go on the river walk trail before we head home or...?”

“What I’d really like to do is find out what’s bothering you.” Shinobu grumbled. Nevertheless, she took (Y/n) by the hand and led them down the path.

Plenty of people were out, enjoying the warmth the sun had to offer. Of course that meant a lot of people were out with their dogs as well. Shinobu took to using (Y/n) as a barrier whenever a dog veered too close to her, sniffing them with wagging tails. (Y/n) was all too happy to intercept the furry canines that they came across.

“This path should really be wider...” Shinobu would mumble, tugging (Y/n) along so they wouldn’t dwell for long.

“We’re almost back to the car. You’ll be okay, I’ll protect you.” (Y/n) teased, staring at Shinobu adoringly. Their hand was squeezed tightly while someone with a big St Bernard passed them by, its tail brushed against Shinobu’s thigh, making her shudder.

Shinobu heaved a huge sigh of relief when they got back into the car. As (Y/n) drove, Shinobu rolled down the window to send any little hair she found on her pants flying out on the wind.

“So, today was fun, right?” (Y/n) asked tentatively while taking the last turn to their house.

“Today was, something.” Shinobu shrugged. Yet she smiled sweetly and patted (Y/n)’s leg. “But any day I get to spend with you is a good day.”

“Aww, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The couple made the safe return to their house and lazed about for the rest of the day. When dinner came around they cooked together, spinning, teasing and brimming with cheer all the while. It was after they had gotten ready for bed and (Y/n) flopped into the covers beside Shinobu that the doctor decided to try her luck again.

“So what was on your mind today?” Shinobu asked while she turned on her side to observe her partner.

“You’re still on that?” (Y/n) poked Shinobu in the ribs, “let it go.”

“No, I want to know what’s wrong. I’m leaving for Kyoto soon and I want to get this all sorted out so it doesn’t fester while we’re apart. No matter how small a matter you think it is, anything that concerns you matters to me.” Shinobu spoke seriously.

(Y/n) was ready to deny Shinobu again up until she loomed above them on the bed with such stern eyes.

“I just miss you, you know. I guess I get kind of lonely when you’re away.” (Y/n) admitted.

“I miss you too. We always find time to text and facetime, that helps doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does. The house though, it just feels empty without you. Of course I’ve got work to do too, but when I’m done and you’re not around, I just feel kind of sad.”

“You could always invite my sisters over, you all get along so well and Mitsuri and Iguro or any of our other friends and family.” Shinobu suggested, mildly upset with herself for not noticing sooner.

“I have before, but I can’t commandeer everyone’s plans every time you’re gone for an extended period of time. You don’t have to worry though, I find ways to keep myself busy.” (Y/n) said, snuggling deeper into the covers.

“I won’t stay the extra days, I’ll email the professors right now.” Shinobu moved to get out of bed but (Y/n) pushed her back down and held her in place.

“No need for that. I don’t want you to skip out on opportunities to grow your research for me. See, this is why I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“This is why you took me to the animal shelter, isn’t it? So you had something to keep you company whenever I’m away.” Shinobu asked despite already knowing the answer.

“I’ll admit that was kind of the idea. I just wanted to see if anything would catch your eye, but I didn’t keep any unrealistic expectations. I knew you wouldn’t like anything furry. I was kind of hoping to find a hairless cat or something.”

“(Y/n), you should have told me. I would have—“

“You would have settled on something just to make me happy. I wanted to find something we’d both like.” (Y/n) rested their head on the pillow just above Shinobu’s shoulder and nuzzled it with their nose, looping an arm over Shinobu they sighed pleasantly, “It’s really okay. I’d let you know if I thought otherwise. Good night, love you.”

“Love you.” Shinobu smiled, resting her head atop (Y/n)’s.

While (Y/n)’s breathing slowed and they drifted off into unconsciousness, Shinobu was wide awake. She gently drummed her fingers over (Y/n)’s side while she searched her mind for a solution that would leave them both satisfied. Shinobu had raised fish for a time, but you couldn’t really pick them up or interact with them like one would a more traditional pet.

Shinobu slowly scooted to lay upright against the headboard and took her phone off the charger, turning down the brightness a bit when the harsh light hit her eyes. She typed the shelter into her search bar and navigated through the site, trying to imagine herself getting along with any of the animals and failing miserably.

She was about to give up and go to sleep when curiosity got the best of her and she clicked the tag marked ‘miscellaneous’. She hadn’t realized the shelter cared for such unusual animals. Shinobu smiled down at her partner sleeping in oblivious bliss. Maybe this could work out after all.

The next morning, (Y/n) woke up to the smell of breakfast and lazily swiped their arm over the bed, searching in vain for the warmth of a body they knew couldn’t be there. With a tired whine, they resigned themself to getting up and stumbled into the kitchen.

“You’re up early.” (Y/n) yawned before giving Shinobu a quick peck on the cheek. “Something wrong at the pharmacy? The clinic? Leaving for Kyoto early?”

“Must there be something wrong in order for me to get up early?” Shinobu asked. To tell the truth, she hadn’t slept much at all; she was too busy researching to do so.

“No, it’s just that you prefer to sleep in when you don’t have plans.” (Y/n) said, moving to sit on top of the kitchen island.

“Oh, but I do have plans.” Shinobu cryptically corrected, standing between (Y/n)’s legs.

“You do, do you?” (Y/n) smiled, “do these plans involve me at all by chance?”

“In fact, they do.” Shinobu kissed (Y/n) before stepping back a bit to look them in the eyes. “So eat your breakfast and get dressed so we can head out.”

“Head out? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

(Y/n) and Shinobu finished their breakfast, showered and got dressed. Shinobu started up the car and they went off on their way. (Y/n) asked her a few more times for even just a hint but Shinobu simply smirked, holding a finger to her sealed lips.

She couldn’t keep the secret forever however, especially not after (Y/n) realized what road they just turned on.

“Shinobu, what are you doing?”

“Just trust me.”

“I trust you, but what are we doing back at the shelter?”

“Come with me and you’ll see.” Shinobu said, already getting out of the car.

(Y/n) unbuckled their seatbelt and quickly followed behind their partner, wondering just what idea could have gotten into Shinobu’s head. They managed to catch up to her just as she greeted the volunteer working the front desk.

“Good morning, we’re here to see Puppy.”

(Y/n) gave Shinobu a weird look, but the doctor didn’t pay them much mind as the volunteer answered after a moment of confusion flashed in his eyes as well.

“Really? That’s wonderful! Come follow me to the back.” The young man said.

While the couple followed the volunteer to the back of the shelter, (Y/n) tried to figure out how they were going to dissuade Shinobu from picking out a dog just to please them. Shinobu couldn’t even remember to speak properly when thinking about it. I mean, ‘we’re here to see puppy’? Really? Not a puppy or the puppies just, puppy. She was really just going through the motions, wasn’t she?

“She’s right in there. She has her own little set up and everything. Poor thing was surrendered to us after her owner died of old age, but she seems to be adjusting well. Serve her up a nice big platter of salad and she’ll never forget it.” The jolly volunteer disclosed.

The previous owner died, had they? That was so sad. (Y/n) frowned at the thought. The salad comment got to them however. What kind of dog would want a salad of all things?

“May we go in?” Shinobu asked.

“Sure. Let me know if you’ve got any questions. I’ll be back at the desk if you need me.” The helpful man said before making his way back down the hall.

Shinobu wasted no time in gently pulling the door open and taking a step inside, much to (Y/n)’s surprise. Shinobu ducked her head back out and motioned (Y/n) forward with a curl of her finger. (Y/n) was so confused. Shinobu looked genuinely excited to show her this particular puppy. With a slight delay, (Y/n) followed her in and looked for the dog that had somehow managed to win over their Shinobu’s heart. Their eyes roamed around the room for a moment, they blinked, and nearly broke their neck with the force they used to turn their head back to the shape that had caught their eye.

“No way.” They breathed out.

“What do you think?” Shinobu asked, moving to crouch beside the large tortoise.

“That, that’s not a puppy.” (Y/n) stated dumbly, too shocked to say much else.

“Her name is Puppy. She’s a Sulcata, or an African Spurred Tortoise. Cute, isn’t she?” Shinobu softly stroke the tortoise’s head with her finger.

“She’s massive.” (Y/n) blinked. Perhaps they were still sleeping and this was all just a dream.

“Yes, the biography they had on the website said she’s a little over one-hundred-twenty pounds. She shouldn’t grow much more if at all though, she’s well over eighty years old. Your previous caretaker took really good care of you, huh?” Shinobu said, patting Puppy’s carapace as the giant reptile slowly scooted away.

“Eighty years... Shinobu, are you suggesting we adopt this grandma of a turtle?” (Y/n) watched attentively as Puppy scooted across the floor.

“Tortoise, (Y/n). And yes, I am. She may have more years than the two of us combined, but she could very easily live another sixty years with the proper care and attention.”

“Are we even equipped to give her that? I don’t think we could even pick her up? Like, how would we even get her home and where would we put her?”

“If we decide to adopt her, there plenty of ways to safely transport her. We can set up an enclosure in the back yard and let her roam around the house. We’ll have to keep an eye on her of course, but I’ve heard she’s quite well behaved.”

(Y/n) stared at Shinobu with awe. Never would they have thought Shinobu would speak so passionately about such an unusual animal unless it cultivated its own poison or was some kind of insect. They shook their head and smiled.

“You know,” they said, crouching down to stroke Puppy’s scaly leg, “an actual dog would be easier to take care of, relatively speaking.”

“Do you not like the idea?” Shinobu asked.

“Oh no, I was just wondering if we get divorced when we’re like, eighty, who gets Puppy?” (Y/n) laughed and rubbed their arm, Shinobu had punched it a little harder than she had meant to.

They took some time to get to know Puppy, feeding her some leafy greens from her veggie platter and petting her carapace. It didn’t take long for them to become completely enamored with the old gal.

They met up with the man at the front desk again and filled out an adoption form. It would take a couple days to be processed but Puppy was as good as theirs. They quickly made their way back home to continue their research and completed all the preparations to make the house and yard tortoise friendly.

A couple days later, and the adoption went through. The couple was elated and rushed to pick up the new addition of their family and bring her home. It was a bit tricky, but they made it without any complications.

They let Puppy settle in and explore the yard enclosure first before slowly guiding her to the house with collard greens and cabbage. As they sat in the middle of their living room with the foot and a half long tortoise, Shinobu found herself wishing she could just cancel her Kyoto trip altogether.

“This was a terrible idea. Now I never want to leave the house.” She sighed.

“Aww, it’s like Puppy is your baby. Your very old baby.” (Y/n) said, feeding Puppy another leaf.

“We never did discuss if we were going to give her a new name.” Shinobu thought suddenly. “Any thoughts?”

“Nah, I like Puppy. It’s cute. Besides, she’s had that name for almost a century, it doesn’t seem right to change it now.”

“Yeah, I can agree with that sentiment.” Shinobu nodded.

“You just want to tell Kanae we got a puppy and watch her face change as she realizes the truth, don’t you?”

“Perhaps.” Shinobu smiled mischievously.

***

When it came time for Shinobu to leave for Kyoto, she hugged (Y/n) close and kissed them sweetly.

“I’ll miss you.” She softly proclaimed.

“I’ll miss you too. I think Puppy will too.” (Y/n) said, looking down to watch Puppy step up to Shinobu’s foot. Most likely she was looking for a snack.

“I’ll miss you too, sweet girl!” Shinobu hummed, couching down to give Puppy a quick rubdown. “You and (Y/n) take good care of each other while I’m gone, okay?”

Puppy closed her eyes, enjoying the attention Shinobu gave. Shinobu returned to her full height and gave (Y/n) another kiss before grabbing her travel bag and heading for the front door. Before she was fully out of the house, she turned back and smiled at (Y/n).

“I almost forgot to tell you. I texted Kanae about Puppy. Expect her sometime today, she can’t wait to meet her,” Shinobu waved her phone at (Y/n), “try to catch her reaction and send it to me. I really wish I held off on telling her until after I got back.”

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do. Be safe.” (Y/n) waved in return, already well aware of what Shinobu had in mind for her unsuspecting sister.

“I will. I’ll call you tonight. Love you.”

“Love you,” (Y/n) watched Shinobu leave before looking back down at Puppy. “Come on, Puppy. Let’s go outside.”

They led Puppy to the backyard with some cabbage and set her up with some hay and other enrichment materials. It was maybe an hour later when (Y/n) heard movement from inside the house. Instead of panicking, they remembered what Shinobu had said and got their phone ready. Just as they hit record, Kanae slid the back door open and jogged over to (Y/n) with Kanao calmly closing the door behind her. Apparently Kanae had convinced her to tag along.

“I can’t believe you actually convinced her to get a puppy! How did you do it?” Kanae started in on (Y/n) immediately. “Where is the puppy? Shinobu wouldn’t send me any pictures.”

“Well...”

“...That’s not a puppy.”

(Y/n) and Kanae turned to Kanao who was staring down at Puppy as she snapped at some hay. (Y/n) turned their phone back just in time to catch Kanae’s double take and the journey of her expression from disbelief to acceptance.

“I should have known it wasn’t that simple!” She groaned, “(Y/n), what did you two do?”

“We got a sulcata tortoise from the animal shelter. Her name is Puppy,” (Y/n) noticed how mesmerized Kanao was by the reptile and grinned, “she’s really gentle, you can feed her some greens from that bucket if you’d like, Kanao.”

Kanao nodded, taking a big, leafy bok choy and offering it to the tortoise with bright, attentive eyes. The youngest sister did not seem the least bit disappointed by Shinobu’s farce.

“I can’t believe her! I should have seen this coming, Shinobu has detested furry things all her life, but this is like a literal dinosaur!” Kanae sighed and shook her head, “She really got me good.”

A moment later, and the eldest Kochou sibling realized (Y/n) had recorded the whole encounter.

“(Y/n), don’t send that! Don’t give her the satisfaction!” Kanae pouted, reaching for the phone.

“I’m sorry! She asked me to before she left.”

“You don’t need to do all of your partner’s dirty work. Come on, please?”

“Already sent.” (Y/n) said, a sympathetic smile tugged at their lips.

Kanae frowned and narrowed her eyes, reminding (Y/n) heavily of Shinobu. It was a look (Y/n) seldom saw on the usually cheery woman.

“Fine then. I’m going to pet that tortoise now, hopefully she’s more well mannered than her caretakers.” Kanae turned her nose up on (Y/n) and joined Kanao in gently patting Puppy.

(Y/n)’s phone buzzed and they looked down, Shinobu had answered quickly it seemed. A simple, ‘yes!’ with a couple variants of laughing emojis. But another message soon followed reading, ‘When I come back, we’re getting Mitsuri next.’

(Y/n) exhaled an amused sound and prepared themself for Shinobu to come back from her trip. They knew that once she returned, Shinobu would continue to pull the same joke about Puppy to all their friends and family until no one remained unaware.

[troubatrain]

runaway - n. patrick

a/n: happy sunday here’s som midday filth i wrote today? i think i might make this a little series (where all the fics sort of connect) but i have decided yet so tell me if you want more! big shoutout to @hookingminor​ for letting me dump ideas in her DMs. Also tagging @texanstarslove​ for encouraging me to expand on this blurb i wrote yesterday! hope you guys like it :)

warning : smut - it’s literally just smut

part two

You were running away if you could even count making a grand escape from Boston to Philadelphia to your brother’s place. You had submitted your final paper in your dorm at Boston College, packing your bags and loading your car in what should have been the direction home. Instead, while you were packing your ex had posted a picture with his new girlfriend, and you felt like an idiot. You couldn’t believe it, gossiping to your friends that you’d slept with him a week ago and you were so sure you were getting back together. Now, you were just heartbroken and when you needed an escape - there was always Kevin.

So you drove in the direction of Philly, calling your big brother on the way down to tell him you were on your way. Kevin was in California, but told you to come regardless, worried about his little sister. You drove in silence, your mind racing for hours, finally pulling in front of Kevin’s building a little after nine. Philly was cold, but nothing compared to the cold December temperatures you were used to. You let yourself into his place, grateful for the key you kept the last time you came for a visit. The place was dark, and you stepped into the kitchen in search of any food.

“Hey Boston.”

You jump, letting out a small yelp and almost falling to the floor. You turn around to meet Nolan’s eyes, a smirk on his face while he stifles a laugh. You huff, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows at him, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I live here, what the fuck are you doing here?” Nolan scoffs, looking at you like you’d completely lose your mind. Nolan wouldn’t have told another soul, but he was happy to see you. Kevin would murder him if he ever let it slip, but Nolan wanted to do absolutely filthy things to you. So Nolan settled on teasing you, because if you thought he didn’t like you then he wouldn’t have to cross that line.

“If you really must know, I didn’t want to go home and tell my parents all about my ex boyfriend’s new girlfriend,” You mutter, holding in your tears because Nolan didn’t need to see you cry. You were almost sure he hated you, and you didn’t know why. Nolan was pretty nice to everyone, especially when your family came into town. Kevin loved him, and constantly bragged about his roommate, but Nolan gave you shit all the time.

Nolan let out a deep breath, processing your words and the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes and he wanted to fix it. He wanted to throw his arms around you, and hold you until it all felt okay but that was a slippery slope for Nolan, “Go put your stuff in the guest room, I’ll get us something to eat.”

You emerged a little while later, your hair wet from a warm shower and an oversized t-shirt hanging from your frame, covering the shorts you had on. You pad into the living room, sitting on the opposite side of the couch as Nolan, tucking your knees into your chest. You looked frail like someone had taken your already broken heart and snapped it again.

“Pizza should be here soon,” Nolan whispers, looking over at you with sad eyes. He looked warm, a hoodie covering his hair that was longer since the last time you saw him, “You-”

“Want to smoke?” You both let out the question at the same time, laughing when you realized what you did. That was the one thing you and Nolan seemed to bond about, smoking with Kevin was awful because his voice seemed to echo afterwards and it was too much for the both of you. Nolan got up, disappearing for a second and reappearing with a joint already rolled in his hand.

“All you Boston,” Nolan drops them in your hands, and you roll your eyes that his dumb nickname for you. You put the joint between your lips, sparking the end and letting the smoke slip through your lips.

“Shut up baby cat,” You tease, coughing from the smoke and smirking at Nolan. Nolan takes the joint from your hand, taking a hit and letting the smoke fall from his lips.

“You don’t get to call me that,” Nolan teases, a hazy smile on his face when he looks over at you, “Feeling any better?”

“I will be when-” You go to tell him that when the pizza was here everything would be fine, and as if you were magic the doorbell buzzed to let you know your delivery was here. You make a surprised face, looking at Nolan to see if he was nearly as excited as you were, but he was just laughing at your face.

You devoured the pizza, the both of curing your munchies and settling on whatever garbage reality show was on at the time. It was a comfortable silence inching over closer and closer to Nolan as time went on, before you knew it, you were practically curled into his side. You were busy on your phone, instagram stalking your ex’s new girlfriend to compare every part of you to her.

Nolan looked down at you, furrowing his eyebrows until he figured out what you were doing. Your head was against his shoulder while you looked at who he assumed was your ex’s new girl. He sighs, taking your phone out of your hand and tossing it on the other side of the couch.

“Nolan what the fuck was that for?” You ask, raising your voice and giving Nolan a look.

“Stop comparing yourself to that girl,” Nolan huffs, his voice deep from exhaustion while he stares at you. He thinks for a moment, carefully mulling over his next words because he had one chance not to fuck this up, “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Yeah okay,” You snort, rolling your eyes and sitting up next to Nolan, “Don’t even look at me and tell if you had a choice you wouldn’t choose her.”

Your voice was shaking, and you didn’t know what answer you were expecting, Nolan was only nice to you because you were Kevin’s sister. There wasn’t any other reason Nolan Patrick would give you the time of day. Nolan's eyes were staring into yours and he rubbed a hand over his jaw while he thought. His lips pressed against your jaw pressing feather light kisses against your skin while Nolan mumbled.

I’d choose you anyday.

You’re so beautiful baby.

Only you.

His lips were ghosting over yours, your eyes closed, just waiting for him to finally close the gap between the two of you, “Kiss me Nolan.”

Nolan’s lips on yours was pure ecstasy, like every part of your body was on fire. Nolan pulled onto his lap and you straddle his hips, grinding down on him while letting out a whimper when his hand smacked your ass lightly. Nolan’s lips were on your neck, leaving a mark you know you were going to have to cover later, “Y/N-”

Nolan’s voice was deep, and your name falling from his lips instead of that stupid nickname was enough to make you wet. Your hands found the ends of Nolan’s hair, tugging on him slightly causing him to groan underneath you. Nolan pulls away, looking up at you with swollen lips, and you’d never looked better. His hands were under your shirt, your skin soft under his calloused fingertips and legs wrapped around his waist while he grew hard underneath you. He slipped a hand into your shorts, ghosting over your core with his fingers.

“Please,” You plead, pressing a kiss against Nolan’s jaw. You needed a release, someone to make you feel special even if you never spoke of this again. Nolan was a hockey player and you’d been around enough to know how easy it would be for this to be a one and done thing, “I’ll be a good girl.”

That was all it took for Nolan to slip his finger under your panties and rub a circle over your clit. You roll your hips in his, desperate for any sort of friction, “Mmm I thought you were going to be good? You’ve got to be patient princess.”

You nod, pouting and looking at Nolan who was smirking at you. He grabs your thighs, standing up and carrying you into his bedroom. You fell back on the mattress, grabbing Nolan’s neck and pulling his lips back onto yours. He slipped your panties and shorts off one swift motion, leaving them to be forgotten about. You pulled of your shirt, and Nolan stops, his eyes wandering down your body, “Nol-”

“This is better than I imagined, god you’re perfect,” Nolan hums, his hands slowly moving down your body. He finally hooks your legs over his broad shoulders, pressing a kiss to your thigh, “You’re sure about this?”

“Nolan your head is between my thighs I think I’m sure,” You tease, kicking him in the back lightly. Nolan nods, flicking your clit with his tongue, pulling a moan from your body. It was everything he ever wanted to hear. His grip on your thighs tightened, his nails digging into your skin while he teased your entrance, “Nolan, fuck-”

Nolan’s lips wrap around your clit, slipping in a finger and curling it to hit your g-spot. Your hips lifted off the mattress, grinding against Nolan’s lips while he fingered you. You were close, curses and moans leaving your mouth because there were no other thoughts running through your head other than how good Nolan was making you feel.

“I know your close baby, c’mon,” Nolan growls against your pussy, sending you over the edge. You let you a yelp, your orgasm overcoming you while Nolan fingered you through your high. You ran your hands through his hair while you caught your breath, Nolan pressing kisses into your thighs. He didn’t give you much downtime, grabbing a condom from his bedside drawer and kicking off his sweats. You played with your clit, watching Nolan roll the condom over his cock and your pussy dripped in anticipation.

“I want to cum to all over your cock,” You whimper, Nolan finally sliding inside of you. He was big and the feeling was sensational. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, snapping his hips into you while you screamed underneath him, “Harder.”

Nolan was in euphoria, his name was leaving your lips like a prayer, begging him to absolutely ruin you. This was Nolan’s dirtiest fantasy, from the moment Kevin introduced him to his little sister with a threat for Nolan to keep his grimy little hands off of you. His hands were all over you now, gripping your hips while he fucked you, sure to leave bruises in his wake. Nolan’s hand ghosted over your neck, and you let out a deep breath at the contact, “Can I?”

“Fuck, yes,” You nod, letting Nolan’s large hand wrap around your throat. His was using you for leverage, fucking you into his mattress while you let out moans underneath him, “Fuck I’m close-”

“Be a good girl and cum for me,” Nolan spat, teeth grazing your jaw while he watched you fall apart underneath him. He let go of the grip on your throat, giving you no time to rest before his strokes got faster. He needed to chase his high, spilling into the condom while you shook from the aftershocks of your own. Nolan stayed inside you for a minute, his head in your neck while you watched the sweat that was glistening on his forehead. You ran a finger through his hair, wondering what the fallout from this was going to be.

“That was,” Nolan stops, muttering against your skin because he was speechless. The wasn’t just good, it was mind blowing, and the temptation to do it again might be a problem for him, “That was fucking incredible Boston.”

“Sure was,” You breathe out, picking Nolan’s head up and pressing your lips to his. You made out lazily for a while, basking in the post sex glow before you knew you were going to have to kick Nolan out. Kevin would be back in the morning, and if he caught you in bed with his teammate Nolan wouldn’t live to see another day.

“We should do this again sometime?” Nolan asks, watching you collect your clothes from his room. He wanted you to stay, sleeping under his arm in his bed where you should have, but he knew he was playing with fire. You look at him, a smirk on your face and a blush on your cheeks.

“You just might get lucky twice Nolan.”

And Nolan hoped he would...

[redrobin-detective]

Just one single glimpse of relief

TW: OC death, death themes

“Hey,” Sydnee looked up at the sound of the voice. It was familiar, safe, and it stopped her tears for a moment. She can’t remember where she was or what she’d been doing. All she knew was that she was scared and upset and didn’t know what to do. It felt like she’d been crying forever when the voice appeared. “Hey there, it’s Phantom. Can I come closer?”

Sydnee gasped as the town hero, Phantom, approached her slowly. Syd was a bit of a nerd and she couldn’t get enough of those superhero movies. She always tuned in to Phantom’s fights on TV; he was as close as she’d get to a real life Superman or Captain Marvel. She’d never seen him up close before though. He was younger than he appeared on TV, not more than his early teens. Sydnee, almost 24, was hit by a wave of mortification over how they’d described the hunky, we-thought-he-was-older kid on Margarita Night. This day just got better and better, not that she remembered it.

“How are you doing?” Phantom asked quietly, floating near her but not getting too close. He was watching her warily but not unkindly. She saw how some folks treated him, he was probably worried she’d throw a shoe at him. “What’s your name?”

“Sydnee, with an extra e not a y. Uh Tanner, Sydnee Tanner,” she mumbled. Ugh why were words so hard. Her head felt fuzzy and very far away, she thinks she was going to start panicking again. What was she even so upset about? “I don’t know what’s going on. Where are we and what happened. I don’t- I don’t remember anything.”

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, floating a little closer. The soft glow he emitted brightened up the dark place they were in. Was she in a collapsed tunnel? What had she been doing here? She’d never been claustrophobic but the debris and rubble of the place seemed to close in on her. “Hey, hey, just look at me.” She turned and met his kind eyes, soft and easy. “We’ll walk through it together. What is the last thing you remember?”

“I was late to work,” Syd said, the memory popping up before her. “I um work at the Donut Delights bakery in that strip mall next to the middle school. My cats had knocked over some of my houseplants in the night so I had to clean them up and was running behind. I open the store on Wednesdays - oh it’s Wednesday! - so I knew I’d be in trouble. But I made it, just barely. I was starting up the ovens when.” Syd furrowed her brow and took in the hero before her. The one who was almost never seen outside a fight. “There was a ghost attack, wasn’t there?”

“Welcome to Amity Park,” Phantom said grimly. “I’ve been here a couple times; the jalapeno bacon topped donuts are my favorite. My mom and sister buy them sometimes if they want to bribe me into doing something.”

“You weirdo, only crazy people eat that weird flavor,” Sydnee chuckled. “You have a family?”

“Of course, we all have a family out there somewhere. What about you?” He asked gently. There was something about the soft way he was talking to her, the way his eyes flickered around the dark like he was looking for something. He had news he didn’t want to tell her and she wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet. Just a few more minutes of denial before she faced the revelation she couldn’t bear to touch yet.

“Yeah, mom and dad and two younger sibs. Folks divorced forever ago, I barely remember them actually being together. Mom is is living it up in Dubai working as a pastry chef in one of their fancy hotels. Dad’s an auto-mechanic down on Maple street, Duke’s Car Services. Pretty sure you got tossed through the window a year ago.”

“I’ve been tossed through many windows but I know the place you’re talking about. So a big family, any friends? Boyfriends? Girlfriends?”

“I have a boyfriend,” she continued on hastily, taking the distraction for what it was. “I like him, a lot and we’ve been dating since high school. Everyone says I should marry him and we’ve talked about it, casually, but I’ve never dated anyone else and wonder if I should see other people first. You know, test the waters before I settle down with my high school sweetheart like my folks did and look how they turned out.”

“Mhmm,” Phantom hummed nodding, encouraging her to continue.

“DeShawn is great though, he’s very supportive and sweet in his own kind of absentminded way. He’s got epilepsy real bad though, I have to drive him everywhere since he’s always at risk of a seizure. Annoying sometimes but its nice, you can learn a lot about a person from a conversation while you’re alone together.”

“Very true, I’m learning a lot now,” Phantom smiled. “What about your siblings?”

“I have a brother and a sister, Kennedy is finishing his sophomore year of college and Janelle will be a senior in high school. She was a surprise baby, one last attempt of my parents to reconcile before the big D. It didn’t help but I got a great sister out of it, she’s a real firecracker.”

“Janelle,” Phantom’s eyes lit up. “She’s the one always dying her hair. I see her in the hallways of Casper, she’s hard to miss. I think she draws too, she won an art award I think.”

“Yeah!” Sydnee said enthusiastically, she reached out and grabbed ahold of Phantom’s arm. It was cold but solid. It reminded her that she really couldn’t feel anything, nothing but him. “Yeah, I swear her hair is a new color every time I see her. It’s a dark purple now, it looks pretty good on her. She was a peachy orange for picture day last year. Mom called her up screaming when she saw the photos.”

“I thought it looked cool,” Phantom grinned, “not that I was there for picture day. Ghost attack, you know. My mom was upset with me too.” They laughed lightly for a minute before it gently petered off leaving them alone in the dark. Sydnee didn’t have any feeling in her toes, in any part of her. She felt light and disconnected and all over out of sorts. She was pretty sure she knew what had happened but she couldn’t face it yet. But talking to Phantom, it seemed a little easier.

“I remember the attack now,” Sydnee stated quietly. “It was a big ghost bear only it was the size of a pickup truck. It rammed into the store there was chaos and screaming. It was so loud, the screaming of the customers, the bear, building coming down on top of us...” her lips wobbled. “We’re still in the store, aren’t we? I haven’t wanted to turn around because... because I know my body is buried underneath the concrete back there.”

“Yeah,” Phantom breathed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get here in time. Most everyone in the area got out but you and a few others in the store got trapped under the rubble. Mrs. McDaniels who lived on Eustis street and was the first woman in her family to go to college plus Eddie Drake who came down from Chicago to check out the ghost stuff with their boyfriend and was a tattoo artist.”

“Did you talk to them too?” She questioned in surprise.

“Briefly, Mrs. McDaniels didn’t stay long, just long enough to tell me, and I quote, “stop wasting time on her dead ass and get to the others.” She already passed on. Eddie, they didn’t take it well. We talked for a while and I think they need a little more time to accept it, see their loved ones first. I warned them that the longer they delay death, the harder it is and the more you lose yourself. You’re the last, all the way in the back of the store. When you’re ready, I’m going to bring your body out.”

“Thank you,” she whispered before breaking out into hysterical laughter. “God I bet I’m a wreck, I think I put my shirt on inside out I was in such a rush this morning,” she sniffled. “What do I do now, as a ghost? I don’t have to, like, attack people, do I?”

“No,” Phantom sighed. “Most ghosts are just normal people, no one else but other ghosts will see you and you’re not going to be strong enough to interact with the real world for a long, long time. You can stick around a bit if you want, watch over your family but it’s like I told Eddie, you forget things pretty quick. Or you can move on, that part I can’t help you with but I’ve helped a lot of others go that route and I’m told it’s easy.”

“Easy, then why haven’t you?” She questioned angrily, the full weight of the situation crashing over her. She shoved him and he floated back passively. “I’m a freaking ghost and you’re here talking to me like you’re my therapist or something. Who’s gonna take DeShawn to his appointments? Or praise my sister’s creative messes? Or badger Ken into picking major? My life is over and you think you can float there and lecture me about it being easy to move on!”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Phantom soothed, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry Sydnee, I wish I could turn back the clock an hour, two hours, and prevent this from happening but I can’t. I’ve tried to mess with time and it doesn’t end well for anyone. I just want, I just want what’s best for you now. You can stay or you can go but I want you to make the decision that you feel most comfortable with. That’s all I can do for you.”

“I think I’d be sad,” she said, crying again, “being able to see everyone but not talk to them, to watch them cry over me. I don’t want to forget them either.” Phantom watched her, easily and earnestly. “What made you choose to stay? Why didn’t you go?”

“I’m a little complicated but I can tell you, when I’ve done all I need to here, I’m not hanging around a second longer than I have to. Being a ghost has it’s perks but it’s also, it’s being stuck in a place you longer fit, watching the world go on without you.”

“Okay,” Syd hiccupped. “Okay, yeah okay.”

“Okay,” Phantom nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, please don’t,” she grabbed his hands again. “Please I don’t, I know I died alone but I don’t want to do... this alone. Please stay, ugh, calling you Phantom is weird sorry.”

“I don’t know if it’s any less weird but you can call me Danny,” Phantom, Danny, laughed. It was an ordinary name for a superhero but it fit. There was a special thrill in knowing the ghost boy’s name but it’s not like she was going to be around to tell anyone. It was scary, to think of not existing but also sort of comforting, like a long nap with nothing pressing to get up for.

“Can you tell them that I love them, in my place? I know it’s a lot and I’m sure you’re super busy saving the town and everything-”

"It’s not a problem. I’m sure they know but I’ll be happy to pass on the message,” he smiled and it made him look so young. For a second she was struck by how sad it was that she was relying on a kid a decade younger than her for support. But he was here and he was kind and he was what she needed right now. Maybe one day, he’d have his own person talking him through this last step. 

“Okay, Danny, thanks really. For talking, for staying. I’m scared but I, I think I’m ready.” She closed her eyes and squeezed his hands tightly. “Do you, will it hurt?”

“No,” he said, his voice warm despite his inherent chill. “No, Sydnee. No, the hurting is all over now. All you have left ahead of you is peace. Thank you for all that did, you’ll be missed.”

“I’ll see you on the other side. Goodbye.” The world faded to a pinprick, consumed by light. The last thing she saw before she went into it was a stranger’s smile. 

XxX

“Here’s the last,” Phantom said solemnly, delicately setting a broken body he’d carried out of the dilapidated building and on the sidewalk next to the others. “This is Sydnee Tanner, she was the only employee in the store at the time. She has cats at home who will need taking care of. Her dad works at Duke’s Car Services along with siblings and a boyfriend.”

“Don’t know how you know all that but thanks for getting these folks out,” Sheriff Newton sighed. “Damn shame. Keep up the good work kid, we’ll save the next ones for sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some rather unhappy news to break to several people.”

“Do you mind if I tag along? I have a few messages I need to pass on.”

[fallingforyou123]

Cinnamon and Roses- A Cupcakes and Therapy moment

Summary: A soft night in the bakery, fresh flowers and cinnamon sugar.

A/N: Here's the next bit of Cupcakes and Therapy, a late night date and some deep conversations. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1707

Warnings: Angsty sadness

Part 1

Masterpost

The day had felt like it would never end. The bakery had been busy this morning, a rush of people almost selling out the fresh pastries you’d spent last night baking. The afternoon had brought an unbearable heat that was only made worse by the warmth of the oven. The only thing keeping you going was the thought of seeing Bucky after you had closed the shop for the night.

You’d scoured your recipes trying to find something you’d think he’d like. You knew he liked the simple things, so you’d found a cinnamon bun recipe that you hoped he’d enjoy. You’d closed the shop a few minutes ago and were now preparing the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. You walked out from the back and saw Bucky standing on the other side of the glass, a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hands.

You open the door and let him in, accepting the flowers that he hands to you, “Bucky! These are beautiful, thank you.”

You reach up to place a kiss on his cheek, and suddenly he’s blushing like a teenager and you’re giggling at him. Bucky follows you into the back and watches as you place the flowers in a vase, “It’s rude to stare, ya know.”

Bucky chuckles at that. “Not starring, just admiring the view.”

You busy yourself with grabbing the last few things you need for the cinnamon rolls, willing the blush on your cheeks to go away. You turn around to face Bucky, handing him an apron, “Here, put this on. We’re making cinnamon rolls, you’re gonna get messy.”

He takes the apron from you and ties it around himself while you start explaining the first few steps. You begin preparing the dough mixture while instructing Bucky on how to do the yeast. You move in a sort of synchronized dance, the both of you falling into a comfortable rhythm, the only sounds being you uttering the next step of the recipe.

When it comes time to let the dough rise, you invite Bucky back into the front and bring out two bottles of beer. “When did you open the bakery?” His voice is a smooth break in the silence.

“When I was 20. I’d decided university wasn’t for me, dropped out after the first semester and ended up travelling for about a year. I ended up in this little town on the border of Spain and France. There was this bakery I’d go to every morning, run by a pair of older ladies, the spunkiest women I’d ever met, Emile and Lucía. After about the third or fourth day, they stopped me and asked in broken English, why I was always alone. I ended up spending the day with them telling them everything I could, a conversation of broken words. At the end of the night they offered me a job, said we could teach each other languages and I could learn to bake.”

You took a moment then, to catch your breath, to ease away the pain of the memories. Bucky hesitantly grabbed your hand, running his thumb along the back of it. With a shaky breath, you continued. “I spent months there, learning every recipe I know. Then one day when I came in, Emile was sitting at one of the tables, and she looked at me. I knew something was wrong but couldn’t bring myself to think about how bad it could be. She told me that Lucía was gone, she had went to bed the night before and never woken up. Suddenly the dream I had been living for almost a year had turned into a nightmare. Emile couldn’t bear to run the bakery anymore and my visa was about to expire, so I helped her sell it. We had a small funeral, Lucía had no family, so it was just us. After that I came back here, took some courses and bought this place.”

You wiped a few stray tears from your cheeks and looked at Bucky. He’d been watching you with a soft gaze, lost in your story. “They meant a lot to you, I can tell. They were your second family.”

You scoff at this, “More like my only family. After I left university, my parents cut me off. Haven’t spoken to my sister since highschool. She moved across the country with her football scholarship boyfriend after graduating, I think she’s got a little boy now. Emile and Lucía were all I had.”

“I know what it’s like to lose everyone. My family’s long gone, blood or not.”

The two of you share a moment, realizing that you might be more alike than you thought. Hands still intertwined, looking into each other's eyes softly, a domestic moment. You lean in slightly, a breathes space between the two of you. Fluttering eyes and a warm hand against your cheek. A sudden ringing, a reminder of where you are and a moment gone.

You pull away from Bucky and motion for him to follow you back into the kitchen. You fall back into a peaceful silence, Bucky rolling out the dough the way you instruct as you make the filling. The two of you laugh as he spills some of the filling on himself, a small comment about the apron slipping out of your mouth, a pinch of flour being thrown at you in return.

Before you know it, the pastries are in the oven and you’re sitting back at the table. The sun has set and the moon is bright in the sky. You watch the last few people in the streets as they head home for the night, the city turning over to the hands of those seeking a drink.

This time, it’s your voice that breaks the silence. “Tell me about your family.”

Bucky looks at you, hesitancy written all over his face. The life he lived not one he shared often. He begins slowly, leaving out the terrible details, “My parents died when I was young. My mother to a sickness that took her in a week, and my father to a war. I had a sister, Rebecca, she went off to boarding school after our parents died and I didn’t see much of her. Met my best friend during school, the two of us enlisted in the army when we were young. He went in as this scrawny little kid, came out someone I ended up looking up to, literally.” A small chuckle escapes him at the memories, “After the war I spent a lot of time hating myself for the things I’d done, the people I’d hurt. Ended up finding peace for a little while, before the blip. After that, I lost everyone. No one came back the same, and now I’m here, just me and my cat.”

You look at him for a moment, the two of you basking in a soft understanding. Yesterday, you were strangers, but today you’re something more. An ache begins to form in Bucky’s chest again. He doesn’t fully understand what this is, but as he follows you to the kitchen, he’s lost in a dream of what life could be. He’s known you for 24 hours, but he already knows that you’re meant to stay, in whatever way you want.

You catch him staring at you again as you’re pulling the cinnamon buns from the oven. You think to comment on it, but decide against it, finding it endearing. “Grab me the icing please. It’s better to put it on while it’s hot so that it can soak in.”

Bucky grabs the bowl and hands it to you, your fingers brushing for a second, the ache in his chest growing stronger. You drizzle the icing over the buns carefully, almost like it’s an art form in of itself. When you’re done, you take them out of the pan, placing them gently in one of the glass containers, keeping two out on plates. “We’ll eat these two now, and the rest you can take home.”

You hand him one of the plates, taking the other for yourself, and lean against the counter. The lighting is dim and the room has grown warm from the oven, a feeling of peace falling over the pair of you. You watch as Bucky takes his first bite, a smile coming to his face, “Reminds me of the ones my Ma used to make.” Memories float behind his eyes at the thought, and you’re happy that you can allow him this peace.

Bucky’s beside you now, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. You sit in this moment for as long as you can, enjoying the domesticality of it, something you haven’t felt in years. A small yawn escapes you, the long hours of the day finally catching up on you. Bucky looks down at you, a soft smile on his lips, “Seems like I’m keeping you up past your bedtime.”

You glance at the clock, noticing the late hour, “I’m an old lady at heart, I’m in bed by 9:30 most nights.”

Bucky chuckles lightly at this, moving to start cleaning up. He begins washing the few dishes that won’t fit in the dishwasher while you finish wrapping up the pastries. It only takes a few minutes, and soon you’re both standing at the front door, wrapping your coats around yourselves. “Can I walk you home?”

You give him a small nod, exhaustion keeping you from doing much else. You walk in silence, Bucky’s arm rubbing against yours every few steps, hands slowly inching their way towards each other, but never fully intertwining. Your apartments only a few blocks away, and before you know it you’re standing on the steps saying your goodbyes.

“I had a nice time tonight, thank you for this.”

You smile at Bucky and reach to kiss him on the cheek, “Anytime. Don’t be a stranger, call me, or stop in and say hi.”

With a small wave, you head into the building and make your way to your apartment. Bucky waits until you’re fully inside before turning and heading to his own building. A soft smile playing on his lips as he disappears down the street.

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 6

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 4,327

Warnings: panic attacks, Bucky recalls his accident

A/N: I don’t have much to say, Bucky’s real emotional in this one. I hope you enjoy this chapter :’) 

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

Everywhere Bucky looked his eyes and ears were assaulted by a cacophony of sounds and colours. Red and green baubles hung from the ceiling, shimmering like disco balls and sending sparkles around the mall.

The air smelled like pine and cinnamon, something he usually liked, but it was so pungent and unpleasant that it made his stomach churn and bile rise up his throat. He tried to breathe through his mouth, forcing oxygen into his lungs.

Flashes of silver and gold momentarily blinded him, and as someone walked past him, their shopping bag knocked against his leg. It didn’t hurt but it made him seethe with misplaced anger. Beads of sweat broke out on the back of his neck.

Christmas carols played over the mall speakers, more specifically Jingle Bells which they played three times in less than an hour. Enough, enough, enough. He was suffocating, unable to breathe. He felt too big for his own skin, he needed to escape.

Then he felt your hand at the small of his back, guiding him toward what looked like a furniture store. He followed blindly, his vision blurry and unfocused, and sat down when you gently pushed him down onto a sofa.

Bucky shut his eyes and let his head fall back against the cushion. A woman came up and asked if you needed help but you told her that everything was fine. The buzzing in his ears made the voices around him strangely soothing, as if he was underwater. Now that he was sitting down, he felt a lot better.  

You didn’t try to touch him, something he was very grateful for. He could feel your weight shift next to him and knowing you were there was enough. He focused on you –your heat, your voice, the smell of your shampoo- and his breathing slowly returned to normal.

“Sorry,” he breathed out with a small smile, his head lolling to one side to look at you. “I ruined our shopping spree.”

The fear and panic had dissipated, leaving him cold, exhausted and craving skin to skin contact. He took your hand and linked your fingers together. Your hands were freezing cold.

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I did.” A sad smile curved his lips, he needed to change the subject. “Do you celebrate Christmas?”

You sank further into the sofa cushion sitting shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand.

“We celebrated so many different holidays,” you said. “Perks of growing up in a multicultural family. Christmas was wild though. One tree, five kids. That poor thing never stood a chance. Now I don’t really celebrate anything. December used to be so much fun, now it’s just not the same.”

“We should create our own holiday,” Bucky suggested, squeezing your hand.

“Aren’t you going to see your family?”

“Nah,” he replied with a yawn. “My sister is taking her kids somewhere warm, and my parents are traveling the country in their RV. You can invite your siblings if you want.”

“They’re not available.”

Bucky tried to decipher the expression on your face. Every time you talked about your siblings, you had a faraway look in your eyes, as though you were reliving a memory. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking but your face twisted into a painful grimace. Then suddenly it was gone.

“I want a tree.”

He watched you with a lazy smile. “I’ll get you a tree.”

You pulled him up to his feet and decided it was time to go home. Home. It still made Bucky weirdly warm inside when you called his apartment ‘home’. You crossed the mall, your arm looped through his as you walked, and took a cab to Brooklyn.

He almost fell asleep from the gentle rocking of the car moving through the streets of Manhattan. When he glanced at you, you were looking out your window watching the snow fall.

You’d been living together for almost two months now and Bucky couldn’t have picked a better roommate. He liked the way you sang in the shower, loud, cheerful and most definitely off-key. He liked that you had more pyjamas than every day clothes. He liked watching you paint from the living room, and it always made him laugh when you added weird things to his grocery list.

He could go to bed and sleep the whole night without waking up, feeling safer knowing someone else was there. Of course, not everything was perfect but it was close enough.

He woke up on the sofa a few hours later, still dressed and with a fluffy blanket thrown over him. The sun was setting, painting the sky with reds and oranges. He basked in the setting sun, a content smile on his face, before he sat up.

The TV was on, the volume low, and you were sitting cross-legged on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table going through a bunch of old photographs. Bucky looked around the room, taking in the new furniture and decor.

There was a comfortable armchair in front of the gas burning fireplace. Your book was resting on the seat of the armchair. You had also bought a lot of decorative pillows, some were pretty funny like the one that looked like a giant cookie.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked, his voice gruff with sleep.

You looked over your shoulder at him. “Hey, you’re awake! I bought some picture frames. I thought it’d make this place look less like a high end furniture store.”

“I liked it better when you thought this apartment was amazing.”

You laughed. “I still do, but it’s a bit... soulless.” You tilted your head back, looking at him upside down. “Sorry.”

“Gotta call a spade a spade,” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “All right, well, while you do that I’m going to start dinner.”

He pushed off the sofa but you caught his wrist before he could leave. “I’m already done. I’ve left some frames for you.”

“I already have lots of pictures upstairs.”

“I know, but no one ever goes upstairs,” you replied, letting go of his wrist. “And you’re not in any of the photos.”

Bucky’s eyes were drawn to the picture you were holding. It must have been taken on the day of your high school graduation, you were dressed in a cap and gown, smiling with your whole face. He’d never seen you smile like that. He recognized Peggy Carter right away, her hair was more silver-white than brown and there were deep wrinkles around her eyes.

Your mom wasn’t looking at the camera, she was scolding the young man who was giving you bunny ears. The man was grinning mischievously at the camera. Bucky couldn’t tell how old he was, he appeared to be either twenty or fifty.

There were two other women wearing sundresses, one had long brown hair, the other had twisted her hair into Bantu knots. A young man with dyed silver hair and dark roots was squatting in front of you, his arms crossed over his chest à la Backstreet Boys.

“You should frame this one,” he said, sitting on the floor next to you.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It makes me kinda sad.”

Bucky learned not to dwell on the past. It hadn’t been easy but it would have been impossible to heal without the support of his friends and family. Grief manifests itself in a number of ways, it’s raw and complex, and comes from your soul. 

Bucky had a deep love for his childhood, especially his college years, but while he would cherish this time forever, he had accepted that he was a different person. He wasn’t the same naïve, youthful man he used to be, and it wasn’t a bad thing.

But he also knew that some people live in the past. It makes them feel alive.

“Y’know,” he started, meeting your eyes with a smile. “My hair used to be pretty long. I think I still have some photos in a folder somewhere.”

You clasped your hands together in a silent prayer. “Bucky, I’m going to be honest with you,” you deadpanned. “I need to see those pictures. I need them now. It’s a matter of life and death.”

He rolled his eyes while he got to his feet. “You’re so dramatic. I’ll go get ‘em.”

Bucky took the stairs up to his office and came back a few minutes later with a laptop under his arm. He sat on the floor next to you and set the laptop on his lap.

“You promise you won’t make fun of me?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, mimicking a Cheshire cat grin.

He sighed and tried to look stern but it was nearly impossible. You were too lovely, and he couldn’t help but smile. He opened up the laptop and glanced at you from the corner of his eye; you were practically vibrating.

He started going through the photos when he found one of himself at a party. He was in his early twenties, slumped in a chair, his eyes glassy and unfocused. In the next one he had been joined by two equally drunk women, and he was now roaring at the camera.

“Early twenties, two arms, and not a care in the world,” he said with a little sigh.

You leaned forward, your elbow resting on the coffee table. “Looks like you were having fun.”

“College was a lot of fun,” Bucky said, grinning to himself.

“What was your major?”

“English,” he replied. “I was a really good student, I could have chosen anything but there were more girls studying literature so I enrolled as an English major.”

“Wait!” You recoiled as if you had misheard him. “Did you really choose English because there were more girls?”

He made a funny grimace, and his nose scrunched up a bit as he mulled it over. “Yeah... my priorities were a bit mixed up. Hormones and all.”

You lowered your face into your hand and laughed. When you looked up at him, he was sporting his boyish grin and you shook your head at him.

In the next picture, he was clad in a black university graduation gown standing next to a blond man also dressed in a black gown. They were smiling, sunglasses perched on their nose.

“When I graduated, I had no idea what to do with a BA in English,” Bucky said after taking a long look at the photo. “The thing is, I never found my life’s calling. In high school I didn’t know what job I wanted to do, or what really motivated me, and to be honest I never really thought about it. I figured I’d find my passion in college but...” he trailed off with a shrug. “You’re lucky to have found your passion.”

“Is that why you want to help me?” you asked. “Because I found my calling and I wasn’t pursuing it.”

He tilted his head to one side, considering. “Yes, I guess that’s part of the reason why I want to help you.” He took a shuddering breath.

“Turns out I wasn’t the only one struggling to keep my head above water.” He pressed his index finger to the computer screen. “This is Steve, my oldest friend. He had just started working as a professional freelance photographer. I had nothing to do so I decided to help him build his portfolio. You’re an artist, I’m sure you know that a portfolio will make or break you.”

“It shows what you’ve accomplished, the skills you mastered,” you said, nodding. “Your potential employers will want to see your portfolio.”

“Exactly, and you have to show them your best work. In Steve’s case, it meant taking risks. No matter how talented you are, no one’s gonna pay you for a shot of the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s gorgeous but it’s not rare.”

“So what did he do?”

“We decided to climb Mount Everest.” He mechanically rubbed his stump and your eyes followed his movement. “It might’ve been the dumbest idea we’ve ever had but it sort of made sense at the time. Steve needed a challenging project and I was trying to find my purpose. We trained for a year, put money aside and took a loan. We were young, we thought we were invincible.

“The thing is,” he continued, “Mount Everest is the most famous mountain in the world. It’s crowded and only half the climbers reach the summit. A lot of people die.” He took a small pause. “Sometimes they can’t remove their bodies and they become landmarks. Our Sherpa told us about this man, they call him Green Boots. He’s sort of curled up in a fetal position near what they call Green Boots’ cave. When you walk past him, it looks like he’s just sleeping and because it’s so cold out there he’s actually well-preserved.”

“Oh, God.”

“Yeah, it’s awful,” Bucky let out a small, humourless laugh. “When I fell, I dislocated my arm and it pinched my axillary artery completely closed. It cut off circulation. That’s why they had to amputate. I was just lying there, too weak to call for help, watching people walk past me. They thought I was dead. And I remember thinking, ‘I’m going to die here. I’m going to die here and people will refer to me as Blue Jacket.’ Then Steve and the Sherpa found me, and Steve carried me on his back until they found a shelter. When the rescue team arrived, it was too late to save my arm.”

He went through the photos in silence and glared at the screen without really seeing it, his mind far away. On the screen, there was an endless stream of blurry smiles and blue eyes but he couldn’t look away. His thoughts cleared up when he felt the back of your knuckles along his cheek and jaw.

He unclenched his teeth, feeling the pain in his jaw. You brushed your fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. You mindlessly played with the curl on top of his head and raked your fingernails gently over his scalp. When you spoke, your voice was just a soft whisper.

“Come back to me.”

Bucky forced his eyes shut and swallowed past the lump in his throat, tears pooling on his lower lashes. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. After a moment, he felt his body beginning to relax.

“How do you do that?” he asked in a pleading voice, turning his head to look at you. “How do you quiet the noise in my head?”

The question caught you off guard but you recovered quickly. You took his arm and draped it over your shoulders. “I don’t know,” you said, snuggling into his side. “It’s your second panic attack today. Did I push you too hard?”

“No.” His response was immediate. “I don’t like winter. It’s freezing cold and it gets dark at three thirty. Not my favorite time of the year.”

“But this helps, right?” you asked, waving your hand back and forth in the space between you.

He chuckled. “Yeah, it helps a lot.”

“Good.” You snuggled a little closer.

“But since you’re hoarding my arm, you’re gonna have to go through the pictures yourself,” he added, grinning down at you.

“Sorry,” you laughed. You reached out and slid two fingers over the touchpad guiding the cursor over the arrow icon. “So where are those pictures of you with long hair, uh?”

He knew you were trying to distract him but still made him blush. Those photos were in a folder titled: recovery spring 2010. He gave you directions to find it and waited for your reaction, wondering if you would burst into laughter at the sight of him with long hair and a lot more weight on.

“Wow.”

Bucky turned his attention to the screen to see which one had caught your interest. It was a selfie Steve had taken one sunny afternoon after he had forced Bucky to go out with him and Sam. They were sitting outside drinking iced tea.

Steve’s smile was blinding. He was wearing that stupid baseball cap he loved so much. Bucky sat hunched over in his seat behind Steve, his smile small but genuine. It was the kind of smile that said ‘my friends forced me to join them but I’m secretly glad they did’. Sam was leaning sideways against Bucky, his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

“You look like a completely different person,” you said. “So... strong.”

“Hey!” he gasped in mock offense. “How dare you? I’m still strong.” He removed his arm from behind your shoulders and raised it to flex his biceps. “Look at that!”

With a roll of your eyes, you let your hand roam over his muscular arm slightly squeezing his biceps. “Okay, I’m impressed.”

“Ah! Thank you,” he said with a pleased smile. “Now, c’mon, s’ time to eat.”

Bucky got to his feet and extended his hand to help you up. You trailed behind him as you walked toward the kitchen. “I bet Steve could rip a log in half with his bare hands.”

“I’ll ask him.”

“Where is he?”

“Hard to say. He works for National Geographic now. I think he’s supposed to be in Siberia.”

You spent the next few days like tourists. You showed Bucky your favourite museums, stayed way too long in front of several artworks but he never complained. Bucky took you to the movies. You sat together in the dark for several hours watching foreign films, and you only fell asleep once. Then the two of you would walk around Manhattan speaking in a made-up language and pretending to be characters in a movie.

Bucky couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so carefree. A little voice in the back of his head kept repeating ‘enjoy it while it lasts’ but he chose to ignore it.

“Thanks for helping me with this,” Bucky said, gesturing at the tree in the living room. “She went to the store to buy some ornaments.”

He handed Sam a bottle of beer which he took with a smile before tipping it to his lips for a long drink. Bucky hit his beer bottle on the counter to uncap it and followed Sam into the living room.

“She’s excited, uh,” Sam said with a grin. “You guys are spending Christmas together?”

“Liss,” Bucky replied after taking a swig of beer. “We’re celebrating Liss this year.”

“’The hell is that?”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s an old word. It means comfort, happiness.” A respite from pain. “We decided to make our own holiday. We’re going to spend two days in our fanciest loungewear, eating junk food and playing board games.”

“Cute,” Sam drawled out. “When’s the wedding?”

“Don’t say that.” Bucky glared at him. “Why do you always do that? I finally feel at peace with myself. I’m happy, I’m ready to take on new challenges. Why do you always have to make fun of me?”

Sam’s eyes widened at this. “Woah, I’m joking. It’s what we do. You tease me, I tease you. C’mon, I know things have been hard for you. I’m proud of you,” he rushed to say, afraid he might have hurt his friend’s feelings, but then he caught Bucky’s barely concealed smirk behind his beer bottle. “You’re messing with me.”

“Of course, man. Can you say ‘I’m proud of you’ again? Wanna make it my ringtone.”

“Screw you.” They sipped their beer in silence, each deep in thought. “But you like her, right?”

Bucky twirled the neck of the bottle between two fingers. “I do, she’s nice.”

Sam shook his head like he was frustrated with the answer “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not in love with her, Sam.”

“I never said anything about being in love.” He was silent for a moment before he added, “Beside there’s an entire world between like and love.”

Bucky caught a glimpse of hurt and fear in the depths of Sam’s eyes. He reminded him of Steve: strong yet vulnerable, generous and righteous. Bucky had a feeling Sam wasn’t talking about you.

“Is this about Natasha?”

Sam hung his head and stared at the beer bottle he rolled between his hands. “Sometimes I feel like it was inevitable. These sugar daddy relationships are complicated; at first it’s fun and easy, we both get what we want.” He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “And then it changes, so fast you barely see it coming, and it becomes the only thing you look forward to.” He took another swig of beer.

“These few hours with her mean more to me than anything else in this goddamn world. But it’s not real, none of this is real.”

“How do you know it’s not real?” Bucky asked, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“I pay her.” Sam gave him a sad smile. “She spends time with me because I pay her. Sex wasn’t part of our deal but it came naturally. It’s going to end, one way or another. And If my time with her is limited, why make things complicated, y’see?”

An uneasy feeling gnawed at Bucky’s stomach, taunting him, trying to make him see something he wasn’t ready to see yet. “What if she feels the same way ‘bout you?”

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “To know that I’d have to talk to her, and I’d rather not take my chances. I’m happy with the way things are right now. It hurts, but I’m okay.” He leaned back and made himself comfortable. “You gotta be careful, Bucky. I see the way you look at your angel. You’re skating on thin fucking ice.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Like, love,” Sam said, weighing the two words. “And everything in between.”

They mulled over Sam’s words while they finished their beer. A million thoughts raged through Bucky’s head, circling around like wasps, buzzing and annoying. He was relieved when he heard the front door open.

“Italian leather loafers, mmh is Sam here?” you called out from the kitchen where you set your shopping bag down on the table before you joined them in the living room. “Hey guys! What’s the matter? You both look like someone kicked your puppy-OH MY GOD! LOOK AT THAT TREE!”

While you ran across the living room, Sam cast Bucky a look. The message was clear; be careful. They got to their feet and acted like nothing happened. Sam put on his coat and gave you a quick hug before he left.

Bucky was silent while you were decorating the tree. He let you decide where you wanted to put the tinsel and baubles. He just sat there with a vacant look in his eyes, handing baubles. A smile curled his lips when you cupped his cheek and ran the pad of your thumb along his cheekbone. He looked up at you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Bucky said with a small smile. “Just old and moody.”

You laughed. “Come here, help me with this. It’s actually super boring when no one’s fighting for the baubles.”

“Oh, you wanna fight, angel,” he said with a smirk while he played with a tinsel garland. “Ok, let’s fight.”

You took a step back. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“Too late!”

You shrieked when he launched himself at you. He wrapped the tinsel garland around you, loosely pinning your arms to your sides. You laughed so hard your eyes watered and your shoulders shook. He used it to his advantage and looped two baubles over your ears like giant earrings.

Still laughing, you tugged one of your hands free and threw a handful of tinsel all over Bucky before you ran away. He chased you around the living room, using one of the fairy lights as a lasso.  

Soon, the living room was a giant mess. There was more tinsel in Bucky’s hair than on the tree, and you had managed to wrap the fairy lights around his body. You look pretty ridiculous with your giant earrings and dishevelled hair.

You and Bucky collapsed on the floor, out of breath and euphoric. The sun was starting to set behind the skyscrapers casting a warm golden glow over the room. You turned on the fairy lights and burst out laughing when Bucky sparkled like a tree.

He found his phone on the sofa and handed it to you. You opened up the camera app and nestled closer to him. The first photo was blurry because you couldn’t stop laughing. Bucky thought the second photo was nice but you didn’t like it.

“My smile is too wild,” you said.

“You look beautiful,” he argued. “I look like a Christmas tree.”

Bucky felt a pleasant stir in his belly when you placed your head on his shoulder. Be careful. He could practically hear Sam’s voice in his head. His chest was hurting. It wasn’t unpleasant, just peculiar and unexpected. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on top of your head.

“Bucky! You have to open your eyes,” you scolded him after looking at the picture, unaware of his inner turmoil.

He wasn’t sure he could; tears were welling up in his eyes. He was terrified of his feelings for you, but his body was screaming at him to stop burying his head in the sand. He didn’t want you to see the tears in his eyes, he didn’t want to alarm you, because the truth was, he hadn’t been careful.

“Can’t. I’m comfy,” he replied, masking his true feelings behind a joke.

“Open them or I’ll tickle you.”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay, no need to use force.”

He soldiered on and opened his eyes, smiling at the camera. He liked you, and he promised himself he would never tell you. His feelings didn’t matter, it wasn’t part of your deal.

Part 7

[ginwhitlock]

summary: JASPER/ BELLA. set in eclipse (but is so far from canon honestly all you need to know is that victoria is after bella). When Jasper snatches Bella away to Texas to escape a vampire’s hunt for the girl who killed her lover, Bella comes clean about her hearts unfaithfulness on an unsettling summer morning, in front of God and everybody.

fic type: oneshot, no explicit scenes

warnings: religious guilt, Bella’s weird brand of horny, cheating on Edward, oh and Alice just doesn’t exist— don’t think about it too hard

There was this openness in the air, something stirring from the west, saturating the cotton fields. A yellow eyed barn cat stood still in the morning light, it’s black coat shifting with the bite of ghostly mice. Whiskers twitching. 

It was watching her, she was sure of it, like the pecan trees and the paddock mud and the mosquitoes. All beady-eyed and searching the brown haired girl, the one with crooked ankles and misaligned bangs that just barely kissed her cheeks in the late summer sun. She looked home grown. Wheat wild. A child of desert planes. And most importantly, she looked lost. 

“I thought you’d still be sleeping by now.” A hushed baritone slipped from the screen door, it’s owner donned in dark royal denim and loose leather. 

If it had been just months before, Bella would’ve rolled her eyes. 

But she was different now. As different as Washington was to Texas. As different as evergreens were to red oak. She swore even the sweat didn’t smell right. 

“Wanted to catch the sunrise.” There was a softness to her front teeth, the round of her molars quiet against one another. To whose ears she was catering to she didn’t know. And to be honest, she didn’t quite care anymore. 

Bella made out a lazy nod from her peripheral, the shaggy haired man seemingly relaxed out here on the front porch of her judgement day, all tan and tall and scented like rolled tobacco. 

Shut up, stupid girl. 

Jasper murmured out a response, something about humans needing sleep and southern sunrises being worthy enough to diminish the former from its place on his immortal pedestal. There was a creak and a groan from the haint green floorboards underneath her before she found herself shoulder to shoulder with the two hundred year old soldier; a stray wind had blown through the shaved baby blond hair lining his chin in the slightest of ways. There was a caution light screaming out from his stature and the brunette girl had the painful urge to swallow it under her teeth and tongue. Soak it in holy water and hide it in her skin for him to find. Or rather, Him, if this stay was going to end like she thought it ought to. 

He couldn’t feel that… could he? Stupid, stupid—

“The marigolds should be blooming about now, just west of the barn. They’re quite a bit prettier than Peter’s fields.” There was something off in the lit of his tongue, the way it flipped and rolled off his teeth. It came out… wrong. Forced. Like he was trying to be overtly kind. The way you talk to a frightened rabbit you clipped with the lawn mower. 

Bella frowned something deep and turned nose at Jasper. “Why did you bring me here, Hale?” 

With the question came a wince to his brow, a noticeable blow to his stature. He seemed to fold ever so slightly towards the young girl. 

“Don’t— don’t call me that.” 

Silence filled the unwalled prison of the porch like nothing else, the birds and wind seemingly gone to rest whenever the two entered into each other's space. Like worldly magnets, chess pieces that threw blows instead of diagonals. The quiet held them both. It held them together. 

Bella Swan blinked slowly in an unknown apology before settling back on the blond with the stone facade. She waited for him to continue. 

He sighed. “It’s safer here. Victoria wouldn’t come this far south without encountering things far worse than the likes of Emmett or Rose.” 

“But this wasn’t Edward’s plan, was it?” Bella’s lashes were like rodeo announcers with their back and forth turns to the outlook of western Texas. 

Jasper looked every bit of his one hundred fifty years as he laid a freezing hand on hers, their knuckles slotting together with unpracticed ease. “No. But it’s mine. And you’re gonna have to accept that.” 

She refused to nod at the man with the thigh clenching, hard work mending, touch, for more than a second. She was far from the type of girl that would lay down and let the boys run out their wildest stupidities on her seemingly catastrophic life, but she felt almost resigned in Jasper's hands. There was a calmness between them she couldn’t place as artificial or not, the soft wool of contentedness slowly covering the surveyor-ship she felt stepping outside this morning. The stares of the flora and fauna turned internal. Fire burned in the pit of her stomach, on the nape of her neck, across the fragile skin of her cheeks where freckles started to show, and mostly, on the warming flesh of her hand where their hands met gently. 

Maybe it was Edward looking onto them from a frozen forest hundreds of miles from here as he hunted a scarlet monster, discovering the hidden plumpness swirling around in his lover's chest for the brother he always worried about, but for all the wrong reasons. 

Or maybe… 

“Jasper, can I ask you something?” 

His eyes were like serpents, glowing yellow under the copper wind chimes above them. 

“Whatever you wish, Isabella.” 

Swallow. Breathe. “When you were human… did you believe in God?” 

A pause sliced the air in two. The cotton plants seemed to stop swaying. The feline vanished. A golden eyebrow fell to his browbone. 

“Yes, Isabella. Yes I did.” His face was drawn, distant, like an old time movie screen was playing out on his stone eyelids. 

Bella’s lips pulled at themselves with her front teeth. “Do you think He’s vengeful?” 

Their eye contact sealed itself, his hand moving on its own accord up her hand to her wrist, cradling the small, delicate bones that allowed her to touch him— but not now. Not ever again. 

“When I was a boy, my mama took me to church every Sunday at seven A.M sharp, and sent me to Sunday school after the service. I was the oldest, even then, and I had more responsibilities than just listening to the preacher ramble on about divinity and charity and sacrifice.”

Jasper's face was taught with memory. 

“I had two baby sisters by the time I turned seven and they were the number one priority, you have to understand, Isabella. Ada and Caroline couldn’t have been older than three when the Leroy boy died sitting in the pew behind us… poor child got heatstroke in his wool britches and after that I started dressing the girls in the lightest things I could find and never waited long after the sermon to get back.” 

Bella turned stormy under the weight of the seemingly young man's words, her eyes dropping from his own to study the way his fingers wrapped around her skin like a life jacket, one part caregiver and one part destroyer. Jasper's own hands seemed to start to tremor just slightly under her stare, or maybe it was from the wash of his own words. 

He took a breath he didn’t need. “But. I started listening when my mother got sick, before the girls finished schooling. Started praying. A part of me was guilty that I hadn’t started before I needed something, that the reason I spoke to Him was for a favor, and a big one at that. I was making up for lost time, I thought. I was begging on my knees for anything. And I didn’t get it.

“They buried an empty coffin with my name on it under a white wooden cross after the army said I went missing. Caroline would plant violets around it in the spring, weed out the planters and start again in the fall. She’d leave me communion wafers in our family pew and have Ada try to talk with me through the minister.” 

“I’m so sorry.” A true sadness settled in her bones, her seemingly selfish desire to have the question answered sat like a heavy stone in the out of her stomach. Her heart held out a warm woolen space for him and she silently begged he would sit in it, for his own sake. 

He waved her off and took on a slight smile, something she had never seen from Jasper. Not in any capacity before that very moment. 

She decided she would try to see it every chance she got for as long as he’d let her. 

“I wasn’t a man of religious structure, Isabella, but. I was a man of faith. The small times I was allowed to watch over my sisters only reminded me of that, no matter how far down to hell I had reached, I still had faith in redemption.” 

His teeth clicked together not unpleasantly. “But I haven’t answered your question have I?” There was a knowing-ness in his voice box and Bella wanted to drink it down like communion wine. She smiled back slightly. 

He was beautiful when he sighed. 

“I’ve done horrible things. Killed innocent people. Slaughtered children and mothers and lambs of God. I have worn blood on my hands like a second skin and not once during any of it did I feel remorse. But darlin,” his lashes fluttered like leaves, “not once did I think God wanted me to hate myself for what I had done. I think… He forgave me a long time ago, before I ever forgave myself. So no. I don’t believe in my brother’s vengeful punisher. Not today. Not in this lifetime.“ She’d never hear the ‘not with you’ fragment he had stuck in his mind.  

She had to step back from him then, the vampire who had become all consuming to her chest and her heart and her fingers. The air was warmer in the space behind him but it almost didn’t matter, the warmth layering her skin was enough to burn through an air conditioning unit anyway. Bella’s hands found clumsy solace in her back pockets as she stared ahead at the rows of painful cotton buds waiting to be harvested. The blood almost pulled to her fingertips. 

Teeth and lips found each other. “I don’t think I’m not going to get punished for this.”

Her words were concrete. Cement. Blacktop on a Kansas back road. They could’ve cut glass if she wanted them to. They almost did as he looked at her. 

“For what, Isabella?” 

Knowing bastard. Always. Knowing. 

No trembling allowed now. 

“For wanting you when Edwards away. When he’s in the same room as us. When he’s hunting the woman who's trying to kill me and you’re just standing there telling me not to be afraid of my own horrible heart… for betraying everything I’ve begged for since me and your brother met. I deserve to get punished for this, don’t I? Don’t you think?” 

She was sweating now, cold droplets running down her back to her the soft slope of her ass. Her knuckles were popping against each other like fireworks and she thought she might faint right then and there, MONSTER written across her forehead in a bruise from the impact. 

A scarred hand felt itself into its place under Bella’s chin and forced her rocking skull to finally glimpse the face she had been thinking of every moment she pulled her eyes away. Jasper Hal— Whitlock? And his clear midnight pupils branding her soul in a sinner’s blush. His lips formed a wonderful crook as he slowly pushed her flat against the ancient siding of the old farmhouse belonging to his long standing brother who looked like everything Jasper was except for his spirit. 

She could die this way and she would face God with a smile. 

“What I feel for you deserves no punishment darlin, but if you insist, I think I’d rather do the punishing than any divine power.” 

His lips were light rosy steel against Bella’s own as the clouds started to stretch out infinitely behind his back, unnoticed by the interlocked couple in their wake. A soft moan escaped as felt the soft chill of a crucifix digging into her neck. 

Maybe God would forgive her for this. Just once.

[help-im-a-gay-fish]

Ship kid: Somba Lullaby (secondary verse)

And here he is! I promised. The final of the Fluffynightkiller siblings. He exists the the secondary ship kid universe which is a collab verse with @thebluescreen aka @iam-bluescreen (their new blog)

He's from the Multiverse Rem is a part of, but not from the multiverse Coffee creamer is from. (They are two separate multiverses with different ships and stories.)

"crying? Me? N-no I'm the heir of the king of darkness!........ I'd never cry..... Go away"

Name: Somba Lullaby

Dead name: Oscuroi (comes from the Spanish word for darkness)

Gender: Demi Boy (they changed their name as they felt it was too masculine)

Sexuality: Biromantic Asexual (sex repulsed)

Parents: (Bio) Nightmare (father) and Killer (Baba) Non Bio parent Ccino

Other family: Rem (older half brother) Vanta (older half brother) Agave Syrup (younger half sister). Dream (uncle) Cross (Uncle) Radiant Hope (cousin) Empathy (cousin) and many cats.

Nicknames: Panda (By Rem and Agave) Cry-baby (by Killer) Osuro (by Nightmare)

Somba is the middle child of Ccino, Nightmare and Killer, born not very long after Ccino started dating them. It was about 1 month in when Nightmare discovered Somba's existence and was slightly concerned about what Ccino's reaction would be. Thankfully Ccino was very supportive and perfectly happy to take on a parental roll. Rem was really not happy.

In fact Rem hated Somba since the moment he knew he was going to exist. In his mind anything that was half Nightmare and half Killer is going to be 100% bad. So at first he wanted nothing more then for this baby to disappear.

It seemed that his wish came true when Somba was born very small and very sick. However, much to his dismay, Somba got stronger as was brought home.

At first Rem despised Somba and spent time plotting how to kill him. However after a few months he got attached to the little bean. Though he always kept his concerns in mind and is always keeping his eye on him. All in all he gets on well with his brother.

When he was around 4 or 5 Somba got into a terrible accident. The short version is that one of Rem's friends played a trick on him which ended with them getting seriously hurt. It was very hard for the whole family and almost caused a break up between the trio. Stress was running high because it was also around his time that Agave was discovered, she was born about 6 months after Somba's accident.

Somba is a soft, scared boy who likes to act like the opposite. His whole life he's built up the idea that he needs to be tough, scary and strong as Nightmare's heir. However deep inside it couldn't be further then the truth.

He's a anxious wreck who is easily triggered to cry and spends a lot of time avoiding people. He gets extremely defensive about about this fact though.

Much like his younger sister Agave, he was raised primarily by Ccino and his brother Rem, as Nightmare and Killer weren't massively involved parents. However he is Nightmare and Killer's clearly favourite child so he's the one they took the most interest in out of the 3.

This isn't necessarily a good thing, as it caused them to put a lot of pressure on him to be strong and fearless. This pressure only drove to make his anxiety worse.

By the time he is 15 he dropped out of school because he couldn't take it anymore, and was instead home-schooled by his father. Nightmare was a strict teacher, and it caused him just as much stress as school did.

By the time he's 18 he has basically given up on life though. He doesn't feel like he's all that good at anything and didn't have a clear goal set up. He can't be a strong warrior like his father and Baba want. But what else can he do?

I feel so bad for my poor baby ;-;

facts

Somba is actually really frightened of both his bio parents. Since he knows what kind of things they have done, it kind of scares him.

One of Somba's only passions in life is knife collecting. Somba has a decent collection of beautiful art knives. The first one was given to him by Killer (who also gave one to Agave as well). Ever since then Somba has been an knife collector and its one of the few good memories he has with Killer.

Somba has a huge soft spot for animals, especially Dogs, Cats, rabbits and mice. But he just loves all animals in general. They tend to give him a sense of comfort that humans and monsters can't.

Somba, unfortunately cant stand the taste of coffee.

Yes he has 3 arms. It was based off an mutation because of all the LOVE his parents collectively had. It interfered with the spawning process.

Powers.

Despite who their parents are, Somba has very few powers. However I has one key ability.

Somba can sing. But when he sings it will cause the people around him to become sad and sleepy. (that's why the name they changed to was Somba Lullaby)

Other then this his body produces black gloop when he is really mad however this rarely happens and it comes off very easily as its not as thick as Nightmare's.

And there you go, that's Somba Lullaby. His bio is shorter then his siblings because he's the simplest, but I do hope you like him! Feel free to ask questions if you have any

[awritingtree]

Never Enough (2/7)

Sirius Black x daughter!reader

Summary: Y/N Black is back at Hogwarts after running away from her father’s, Sirius Black’s, house during the summer. The year passes by and soon it’s the end of the year, with the OWLS finished. What happens when she finds out that her father was captured by Voldemort?

Words: ~2.5k

Warnings: angst, shitty father-daughter relationship, self-deprecating thoughts.

A/N: I KNOW! I KNOW! I KNOW! I know there isn’t a lot of Sirius x reader interactions in this chapter. There are some indirect interactions - or lack of. But I felt it was important to have this chapter and not skip a whole year from the summer to the end of 5th year. It also allowed to me to give more insight into the reader’s feelings. And I realize some parts seem rushed but like they aren’t really that important so... This chapter was important for the entire plot I have planned because we all know what’s coming in the next chapter :) Anyways I hope you enjoy this filler chapter in the mean time xx

Series Masterlist

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The rest of your enjoyable summer back home with the Tonks flashed by and the next thing you knew, you were boarding the Hogwarts Express on September 1st. The return to Hogwarts was accompanied by a change in season, the green leaves changing colours ranging from red to orange to yellow; falling, leaving the trees bare. Following autumn came winter, which passed by just as fast. The grounds covered in soft snow, crunching beneath the feet of the various students making their way in and out of the castle.

Christmas arrived sooner than you’d thought. The white layer made the world look so pure, so peaceful. You had opted out of going home for Christmas. Any chance of actually staying home would be impossible with the Order of the Phoenix still in place at 12 Grimmauld Place. Since you hadn’t returned, you had sent Mr. Weasley a get-well-soon present on top of his Christmas gift.

So instead you had spent the holidays at Hogwarts in the company of your Slytherin friends, spending your days reading, enjoying the grand feasts in the Great Hall and catching up on some much-needed sleep. You had expected a gift, but you were left disappointed as you saw the only presents lying at the foot of your bed were from the Tonks, Ginny, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and your Slytherin friends. Lying in bed that night, your memories took you to a time somewhere around the beginning of November.

“Ew! Could you maybe consider showering before deciding to show up in public?” Parkinson’s whiny voice entered your ears as you ventured into the Great Hall on a Saturday morning.

Your broomstick was tucked in your underarm as you tied off one end of your French-braided hair. You wore your green and silver quidditch uniform messily, having rushed out of bed from waking up late. You had decided not to take a shower beforehand, knowing you’d get filthy all over again in a matter of a few hours. The sleepiness was still visible on your face, eyes drooping with weariness.

“Piss off Parkinson. Go drool over Draco elsewhere if my appearance is bothering you so much,” you sneered, plopping down on the bench, pouring yourself some pumpkin juice.

The arrival of owls stopped Parkinson from cursing you out. You looked up to see a snowy owl make its way towards the Gryffindor table, dropping a letter into the hands of Harry Potter. Upon reading who had sent him a letter, Harry, Ron and Hermione quickly glanced your way before quickly looking away, huddling together to prevent anyone from reading whatever the letter entailed. You sighed looking down solemnly, knowing whose letter would elicit such a reaction from the trio. In this moment you had never hated the snake emblem across the area over your heart more.

You’d cried yourself to sleep that night. Not even the fact that Slytherin would finally have a chance to win the Quidditch House Cup, due to the banning of Gryffindor’s seeker and beaters, had cheered you up. 

Both of those nights you had cried yourself to sleep, beating yourself up for ever expecting, for hoping, that this time away from your father had him changing his opinion on you. You didn’t know why you still cared. You didn’t understand why you craved his love, why you hadn’t given up on having any kind of relationship with him. You didn’t know why you still cared - you shouldn’t. You hated yourself for caring; but a small part of you, the five-year old girl that cried, begging for a chance to go visit her father for a year, still existed. No matter how many times you repeatedly denied it to yourself, you seeked his approval, his love.

You had fallen asleep on both of those nights wondering what you could possibly do to be worthy of his love, wondering why you were never enough.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Winter had come and gone in a jiffy. May brought sunshine, warmth and the blossoming of new life along with it. By now, the D.A. had been found and disbanded, the Inquisitorial squad was thriving off making every non-Slytherin’s life miserable - all because you, now, had a toad for a headmaster.

Your OWLs were coming up soon, pushing you to study more than you had ever before, distracting you from thinking about anything else.

“I don't understand why you talk to that blood traitor and mudblood.”

“Because they’re my friends, Draco,” you sighed, for what seemed like the millionth time, “And stop calling them that. It’s despicable.”

“You don’t need such friends. You have us,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, friends such as Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini? I think I’m good,” you replied, scoffing.

Draco pulled you around to face him by your upper arm.

“I’m just trying to look out for you. These times, they aren’t the best. You don’t need to risk putting yourself in danger by associating with such...” he trailed off.

“Such what?” you prompted him, encouraging him to say something he’d regret. He stayed silent, staring at you, trying to say what he couldn’t out loud through his eyes, but your irritation didn’t allow you to see past his words.

“And I don’t need you to look out for me. I don’t need anyone to look for me! I can do that very well on my own, thank you. You’re not my brother,” you exclaimed, wrenching your hand out of his grip.

A series of emotions; hurt, anger, sadness; flashed across his face - gone before you could make anything of it. Your face softened as you realized what you’d said.

“Draco, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” you apologized immediately.

Draco moved out of the way just as you were about to lay our hand on his shoulder.

“No you’re right. I’m not your brother, Y/N,” spat Draco before softening his tone, “but I see you as my sister so I will continue to look out for you, no matter how you feel about it.”

He stormed away before you could get a second to respond, leaving you staring at the spot he’d previously occupied with a mixture of feelings.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

OWLs were finished. You couldn’t believe that you were finally done. Your plan was to set off towards the Black Lake right after your last exam, lie back in the grass with your eyes closed to soak up the warmth shining down on your face. You longed to hear the sound of overlapping water from the cool breeze lulling you into a state where for the first time since last year, you’d feel a sense of peace and quiet.

But it seemed the universe hated the idea of you relaxing, which is why you were currently in Umbridge’s - Umbitch as you liked to call her - with the rest of the Inquisitorial squad along with a few former D.A. members. You were all waiting on Professor Snape to make his way to office, upon Umbridge’s order request. In addition to the purrs of the many cat pictures hanging on the horrid pink walls, the office was filled with the sounds of D.A. members trying to pull away from the Inquisitorial Squad’s grips.

“You wanted to see me, Headmistress?” asked Professor Snape entering the room as he eyed the struggling students, unconcerned.

Umbridge stood up smiling widely, almost cynically, “Yes. I would like a bottle of Veritaserum. I wish to interrogate Mr. Potter here.”

“You used up the last of the Veritaserum I had on your previous interrogation with Potter. Surely you didn’t use it all?”

“I’m sure you can make some more,” Umbridge replied with an overly sweet smile that made you want to vomit from the sight of it.

“Unless you wish to poison him - I have the greatest sympathy if you do - I can’t help you, not until it’s ready after a month,” Professor Snape said as he looked towards Harry.

Harry’s face scrunched up, seeming to concentrate on communicating something to Snape but his attempt was futile.

“You’re on probation! You’re deliberately being unhelpful. Now get out of my office!” shrieked Umbridge.

Snape blankly looked at her unbothered before turning to head out of the door.

“He’s got Padfoot! He’s got Padfoot at the place where it’s hidden!”

You felt like you had just been drenched in ice cold water at Harry’s shouts.

‘He? Who is he? It had to be Voldemort. Who else could have Harry in such a terrified state? But no, it couldn’t be possible,’ you thought. 

Ginny’s wince brought you out of your spiralizing thoughts. You loosened your tightening grip on her hand, too panic-stricken to mutter an apology. Your wide eyes drifted from Harry to Professor Snape.

“Padfoot?” exclaimed Umbridge, “What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? Snape, what do you know about this?”

Snape turned back around to face Harry. His face was unreadable. You just hoped he would get some help, that he understood what Harry was shouting about.

“I have no idea,” he drawled, “Potter is speaking nonsense.”

You watched him walk out the door. Your palms had started to shake and sweat, everything drowned out. The only thing you could concentrate on was Snape, hoping he would give away any sign that he understood, he was going to do something. For once it seemed the universe had your back because just before he shut the door, his eyes made contact with yours as he moved his head, his nod bare visible. Relief flowed through your nerves; help was on the way.

You tuned into the conversation when you heard Hermione’s shrieks, “No! Professor- that’s illegal.”

Umbridge paid no mind to Hermione, raising her wand at Harry. Your hands clenched around your wand, preparing to take any action if needed as Hermione tried to convince Umbridge to stop.

“What Cornelius doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Umbridge said, “Cruc-”

“NO!” your shout was drowned out by Hermione’s.

“Harry, we- we have to tell her,” she cried.

“It seems little Miss Question-all is going to give us some answers! Go on, then,” said Umbridge, triumphantly.

You stared at Hermione questionably. What was she doing? She couldn’t tell that toad anything. The Ministry would surely get your father and then- you didn’t want to think what would happen if they got their hands on him.

“He was trying to speak to Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione said in between her cries.

You felt Ginny tense in your grip in surprise as you suppressed the urge to sigh out loud in relief. Your eyes drifted around the room trying to think of a way to get yourself out of this situation and to Professor Snape. You needed to find a way to leave and help. You think you heard Hermione tell Umbridge about some weapon Dumbledore left in the forbidden forest in between your racing thoughts. You found the perfect opportunity as Umbridge headed out the door with Hermione and Harry. As soon as their footsteps could no longer be heard, all hell broke loose.

Ron slammed his head back into Warrington’s nose. You let go of Ginny, moving to get Crabbe off of Neville Longbottom, as she moved to go help Luna.

“Stupefy!” you yelled, pointing your wand towards Crabbe. You rushed to Neville, crouching down next to him as he caught his breath, “You okay?”

Neville weakly nodded. Satisfied with his nod, you got up to go help the rest. You felt Draco look at you, betrayed that you were helping the others, right before Ginny got him with the Bat-Bogey Hex. You felt a curse fly by you, grazing your cheek as someone pushed you to the side. Blood trickled down your cheek, dripping down staining your robes.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing, Ginny!? She’s one of them!” yelled Ron.

“No she’s not. She-”

“What do you mean? You see that badge, right? You do remember when she was holding you hostage right now? How about all the time she spent trying to catch the D.A.?” he rambled.

Ginny rolled her eyes exasperated, “Oh stop being so dramatic and listen. She’s not one of them. She’s been helping us all along. Why do you think no one patrolled near the seventh-floor corridor on the days we had a D.A. meeting?”

Ron shifted his eyes from Ginny, whose cheek had long scratches much like yours, to you before returning back to his sister, “That’s a load of codswallop.”

“We don’t have the time for this; We need to get going,” you said, impatiently. You did not have the time to convince anyone on whose side you were on. Your father could be dead by now for all you knew, and you had no clue how quick the Order would be informed to make their way towards wherever he was captured.

Ron opened his mouth, preparing to spew out an argument, “I’m sorry. We-”

“Look. Voldemort has my father right now and Salazar knows what he’s doing to him. No matter what has happened, he is my father. And you are not as smart as I give you credit for if you for a second think, I am not coming with you lot.”

“She’s right. We should get going. We’re wasting time,” Neville spoke up.

Ron looked between Ginny, Neville and you before begrudgingly agreeing.

You all quickly made your way out of the castle and towards the Forbidden Forest. You bumped into Harry and Hermione on your way there.

“How’d you get away?” asked Harry, surprised.

“Couple of hexes. Neville threw a good Impediment Jinx. Though, Ginny was the best, she got Malfoy good with a Bat-Bogey Hex. Anyway, what’ve you done with Umbridge?” replied Ron.

“Carried away by a herd of centaurs.”

“They left you behind?” asked a shocked Ginny.

“No, they got chased off by Grawp.”

“Whose Grawp?” questioned Luna, intrigued.

“Hagrid’s little brother,” explained Hermione.

“Never mind that!” interrupted Ron, “What did you find out in the fire? Does You-Know-Who have Sirius or-?”

“Yes” said Harry, “I’m sure Sirius is still alive but I’m not sure how to get there to help him.”

Everyone fell silent, the situation looking hopeless.

“What’s she doing here?” Harry asked, his eyes finally landing on you.

“He’s my father, Harry. Did you really think I was going to let you go alone?” you said, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Why? It’s not like you’ve cared before,” he retaliated causing rage to consume you at his unfiltered and forward words.

‘How dare he say that? I haven’t cared!?’

You opened your mouth to rebuttal, ready to release your wrath on the boy looking at you accusingly before Luna chimed in, paying no attention to the tension in the air.

“Well, we’ll have to fly, won’t we?”

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

General taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @pregnant-piggy @approved-by-dentists @kashishwrites @remmyswritings @angelinathebook @idont-knowrn @coffee--writes @kinkyduuh @ickle-ronniekins

Never enough taglist: @evilluciferisevil @slyther-inn @bloodyxheaven @gcdric @mycobrakai1972 @loony-loopy-lupinn @the-mighty-bookworm @mads-bri @tessaem @hannah220506 @hariosborn @kpopgirlbtssvt

Lmk if you wanted to be added to either taglist :)

[starlight-vixen-emiko]

A Pink Rose and A Blue Rose

ao3 ff.net

Woo! I finished! Good morning Lovebugs!

This is the fanfic I promised all of you. I am so excited! I won’t give any context just read it!

But also to note there is slight Chat Noir salt and this fanfic single-handedly destroys the Lady///Noir ship so if you aren’t interested in either subject then please read something else.

So without further ado!

~~~~~

Marinette was finally at her wit's end! Chat Noir's constant flirting during hero time kept on giving her reasons why she just wasn't interested in him.

While battling a giant venus flytrap, Chat was determined to prove how cool he was when she urged him to be more serious while distracting the flytrap.

Ladybug ended up being the big hero of the day while she tied her yo-yo around the fly trap when Chat Noir goofed up and got himself eaten.

When the fly trap finally spit him out, his red rose fell to the ground. And when Ladybug got knocked back by the giant flytrap, she accidentally squished the red rose with her foot.

Looking back, that was a bit amusing. Ladybug was starting to hate red roses and felt like they represented obsessive love.

Chat may have helped Ladybug with the final attack by making the right cataclysm at the right time, but at this point, Ladybug just wasn't impressed!

She never would be.

It was still her lucky charm that saved the day. She wondered if she would've handled it just fine by herself.

If fate forced her and Chat Noir to be partners, then she didn't like it.

Ladybug's earrings beeped, and she was about to turn around and leave without so much as a goodbye.

"Wait, M'lady!" Chat Noir cried. There seemed to be some genuine regret in his deep green eyes as if he finally had an inkling of understanding.

But sometimes you realize something too late, but you'll have no choice but to let the other person be.

"Maybe you should be more serious about the fate of Paris Chat Noir," Ladybug said as she twirled her yo-yo around and swung away.

She realized she felt more at ease finally being done with the Akuma of the week.

But when Marinette was finally alone in the garden, she still felt so much anger inside her.

Chat Noir flaunting at her made her want to roll her eyes to the back of her head. Him saying they were a couple when they weren't! He didn't put her feelings under consideration.

And not to mention him making light of being a superhero when she took her calling seriously. How could that lead to true love?

Marinette had to get her anger out somehow. And she couldn't tell anyone about her relationship with Chat Noir. So she got out her easel and canvas and started painting with passionate fury with scarlet red and amber orange.

It may have been more sadistic than she usually was, but she was painting a picture of a rose burning in fire. Not something painters in Paris usually make when sitting by the garden.

When she finished, she gave a bit of a triumphant smirk before Chat Noir's toothy grin appeared in her mind. She sighed while clutching her paintbrush.

"Marinette?"

A familiar gentle voice that sounded like a melody caused her heart to jump but in a good way.

"Luka!" Marinette cried. She tried to compose herself of her angry face. She didn't want her sweet guitarist friend to think she was mad at him.

But if anything, his gentle voice and soft ocean eyes made her feel something, maybe a bit better.

He had a slight smile on his face as he seemed happy to see her but his ocean eyes showed a little concern.

Before they could say anything, Marinette's eyes widened when she saw a bunch of flowers attached to Luka's bike.

"Luka! The flowers!...... They're beautiful!" Marinette cried.

Luka turned to the flowers and picked up a lily for a moment. "Mylene had all these extra flowers, and she told me to make use of them."

Marinette sat down on the bench, not realizing the smile that formed on her face. Luka still looked a bit concerned, though.

"Marinette, are you alright?" Luka asked.

A bit of panic went through Marinette as she tried to scramble for an excuse to not blow her superhero life.

"Oh," Marinette paused as she mentally pushed herself to say something. "Just life y'know!...Lots of things that make me wanna burst in anger."

Close enough…

It was sweet how Luka showed sorrow for her struggles, but Marinette felt she should probably ask him to leave and hide her painting.

Not that she wanted him to leave, though.

"Can I sit with you?" Luka asked.

God Marinette was in a bind, she was about to say a haste no in response, but then she saw his bike filled with flowers and his guitar and felt he could use a break.

"Sure, Luka, I would like that."

God, this was a bad time to wear her heart on her sleeve, showing his adoration for the kind-hearted punk boy.

Luka gently rested his bike on the end of the bench and sat his guitar on his lap. His eyes widened at the sight of her vent painting, though.

"Wow, Marinette! This painting is amazing!" Luka cried.

Any more sweet compliments from Luka, and she was going to surely lose her mind.

"Oh... It's not my best work, really!" Marinette insisted.

Luka smiled and started playing some chords on his guitar. "You inspired me."

Luka's beautiful music filled her ears, and she couldn't help but close her eyes and be still for a moment. His song was healing and diminished any flashes of memory of a certain black cat.

Marinette's heart always felt more energetic when she listened to Luka's music. When Luka played the last notes, she opened her eyes slowly.

"Sorry, was that too aggressive?" Luka asked.

Marinette smiled. "No," she said. "I adored it!"

It did remind her of her righteous anger, but she also felt relieved that Luka understood her heart.

Marinette pondered. "Sometimes we need to be a bit aggressive…."

Luka smiled and strummed a few strong tunes. "That's good to know because I would do so in a heartbeat to anyone who would bother you, Marinette."

Marinette's face glowed red like Christmas lights. "Oh, Luka, you are the sweetest."

It was a shame she couldn't tell Luka who exactly was bothering her, but Luka wasn't trying to treat her like a damsel that needed her hand held. He was just her precious friend showing his concern, and he would be there if he saw anyone bothering her. But she had to remember she was the hero.

"I'll be ok, Luka," Marinette said with a genuine smile.

I already feel ok with you around, she thought.

"Are you sure?" Luka asked. Luka obviously couldn't take Marinette's worries sitting down.

Marinette moved a bit closer. "Yes, I'm sure," she said.

I can take care of myself. Just be there for me, always… Marinette thought.

Luka was still a bit worried, but he nodded. "Alright, Marinette."

Marinette sat a bit closer to Luka, though, causing Luka's warm grin to return.

"Y'know, my family recently agreed to go to therapy," Luka said.

"Therapy?" Marinette gasped.

Luka shrugged, "Yeah. My mom felt she needed some guidance, and so does my sister." He paused and smiled in a sad way. "And so do I."

Marinette took a moment to ponder. Luka? Needing therapy? He seemed like the last person who needed therapy. Chat Noir needed therapy, and she already felt like going straight to Chat Noir and telling him to go to therapy.

"But Luka!" Marinette cried. "You and your family are wonderful! Not broken!"

Luka shook his head. "We are just a family of imperfect people who need a little help now and then."

"Besides, sometimes I am afraid of my own anger."

Marinette was taken aback by Luka acting as if he had issues to work out. He was far more respectful than other guys she knew.

He looked at her with guilt in his eyes. And it clicked for her thinking about the time he got akumatized as Silencer.

"I'm not proud of when I became Silencer," Luka said., his hair covering his aqua blue eyes from his shame.

Marinette's heart dropped when she saw her sweet friend showing shame and remorse for what he did in the past. He didn't have to! He really didn't! Everything was fine now!

"You were right, Marinette. I was out for revenge. I could've hurt someone," Luka said.

Just then, Marinette took his hand. Luka was a bit stunned as he wasn't used to such a reaction from Marinette. Her bluebell eyes glowed at him.

"No, Luka! You were righteously angry! A rich jerk stole from us, and you were willing to stand up for all of us!"

"...You were willing to stand up for me."

Luka was stunned, and he couldn't utter a word in response to Marinette's sudden declaration.

"And no one has ever stood up for me like that…."

"Not my friends, not even…."

Marinette was almost about to mention Chat Noir or Adrien, but she had to hold her tongue.

Luka squeezed Marinette's hand gently. "Well, my therapist said that anger is the way the mind tells us something isn't right, but I still want my feelings under control."

Marinette turned to Luka again.

"Luka, you are not an angry jerk. You're a hero!" She cried.

You're my hero…

Just then, Marinette and Luka froze, both of them with eyes wide. Both of them blushing, realizing their lips were a bit close.

The two of them backed away for a bit, but their hands still touched, as they both enjoyed the connection of holding the other one's hand.

Both of them still looked a bit melancholy, though, but they shared this feeling together.

"Your feelings aren't anything to be ashamed of, Luka," Marinette said.

Luka let go of her hand and placed his hand on her shoulder. Something that always made Marinette feel at ease.

"Your feelings are as well, whatever they may be," Luka said.

Marinette smiled, and the both of them turned to her burning rose painting.

"Well, I can tell you that I am starting to hate red roses!" Marinette said with a bit of laughter. "It feels like they represent lusty, gross, superficial love!"

Luka chuckled. "Hmm, I see where you are coming from."

Marinette paused as she saw Luka handling the flowers. She made a low gasp as she picked out a single pink rose.

He turned to her and presented the delicate pink rose to her as he gave her that usually loving look.

"I think this suits you better, Marinette," he said.

Marinette's smile grew as she happily accepted the pink rose and held it to her nose to take in the sweet scent.

Luka turned to the painting again.

"You know, I can take this painting off your hands if you don't want it," Luka said.

Marinette winced a bit. "Oh no! I can make you something much better than this painting!"

Did she really just say that?

Marinette scrambled on the bench. "I mean, red roses don't suit you, Luka!"

"Red roses are incredibly common and...Maybe that's another reason to hate them! How can they represent true love?"

Luka smiled at her as Marinette kept pondering.

"If anything, a blue rose suits you more. It's radiant and beautiful and…." Marinette paused, realizing the words from her heart she was letting out.

Luka chuckled, but in a sweet a cute way.

"Blue roses are incredibly rare, though," Luka said. "Not even Mylene has any."

Luka moved his legs to his chest and rested his chin on his knees.

"But it would be nice to find one," Luka said. "A one and a million blue rose just growing in a bush."

Marinette stared at Luka. The sweet boy she adored. One who was beautiful, radiant, and one and a million.

Just like a blue rose.

After that lovely day with Luka, Marinette held the pink rose he gave her close.

She couldn't sleep because of how Luka quickly made her rotten day better, but the night was beautiful and peaceful, and she didn't want to sleep quite yet.

The sweet smell of the pink rose made Marinette think of how Luka was so thoughtful for representing her with a pink rose. Unlike Chat Noir, who represented her with a red rose.

She thought again about Luka's compassion and gentleness, and the words he told her today replayed in her mind like a sweet melody.

Marinette stood up from her bed after the day replayed in her head.

She could search the entire world for a blue rose for Luka. She was Ladybug, and she could explore the whole world until she found one. But on a beautiful night like this, she had to flex her creative muscle.

And it was relaxing sewing cobalt fabric into the shape of a rose as the moonlight shined from her window.

She questioned if she should add sparkles or tie a bow, but then she agreed it had to look realistic and straightforward.

The next day Marinette searched the canals of Paris for the Liberty. When she finally found the Liberty sailing, Luka turned his head and smiled at her.

"Hey, Luka!" Marinette said as she happily waved her hand and ran for the boat.

The boat docked, and Luka moved the gangplank so she could get on board.

"Good morning Luka," Marinette said.

Then Marinette quickly placed her hand on the back of her head and looked down, blushing. "Ok, this is probably short notice."

Luka smiled down at her. "It's great to see you again, Marinette."

Marinette giggled a bit to herself. "Oh yes. A-Anyway!"

She was a bit too nervous about giving Luka a nice gift.

"I-I!" Marinette swallowed to compose herself. "I got you something."

Luka was surprised, but before he could say anything, Marinette presented the blue rose before him.

"Whoa!" Luka cried.

He didn't accept the rose at first, being a bit taken aback.

"It. It isn't real," Marinette said.

Luka blinked.

"Sorry…" Marinette said. "I couldn't find one for you, so I made one."

Marinette started to wonder if the gift was offensive, but then Luka accepted the rose and held it up to give it a gentle sniff, even if it was only made of fabric.

Oh, he was just a gorgeous young man holding that blue rose that suited him.

"I love it," Luka said as he smiled at her.

Marinette started to blush, and then she mentally shook herself. "Oh! No problem!" She cried. "It suits you so much!"

As they spent time together that day, Luka kept the blue rose close and safe as if it were his greatest treasure.

And when night fell, Luka kept the blue rose by the window, enjoying the way the moonlight radiated the cobalt fabric and playing sweet tunes on his guitar that filled the boat.

Juleka noted to herself how in love her older brother was.

Marinette laid on her bed with her phone in hand, pondering if she should tell him.

Granted, she wasn't sure if they were friends or more.

But the biggest thing was she felt a bit more comfortable over the idea of telling Luka than Adrien. So she decided to type down her feelings. Word by word.

Luka, you're an amazing friend. But I think I may like you...Like, like you like you!

The way that's more than just liking a friend.

I mean, my entire world feels better and more colorful when I am with you…

And you know my heart better than anyone else…

This feeling feels stronger every day.

Maybe I like you more than I realize.

I really like you, Luka.

But Marinette couldn't bring herself to send that text message.

It wasn't like those words weren't true, but maybe they wouldn't mean so much in text message form.

She would have just straight up deleted them, but she saved the message as a draft and started with something a bit slower.

Luka, can you meet me again tomorrow? Marinette texted.

Minutes later, Marinette's heart skipped a beat when she got his reply.

I would love to Marinette.

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Raindrops, snowflakes, sunshine, part 3

Summary: Catelyn meets a northern boy in her algebra class during one of London’s many rainy days. Initially she doesn’t expect much, but this boy brings her a surprising amount of sunlight.

@leialannister and I discussed Scandinavian Starks and I realized I really wanted to write a fic so that’s what I did. Swedes depicted in media makes this Swede happy, and NedCat also makes me happy so why not combine it and publish him for everyone to see?

Ashara poked her head into the bathroom and squinted against the bright light. Catelyn got eye contact with her through the mirror and raised her eyebrows. Ashara had looked better. She was a beautiful woman, but at the moment she looked like seven hard years.

“Where are you going?”

“Did I say I’m going somewhere?” Catelyn asked.

She was going somewhere, but she hadn’t said a thing about it to Ashara and Cersei. She had planned to tell them about it, she really had, but then she had just never found an opportunity to do it. She had thought that she would be able to get out without them taking too much notice about it. That she thought because the two of them had a hangover from hell.

“You didn’t drink last night and you’re wearing makeup, you’re going somewhere.”

Catelyn turned around to look at her directly instead of through the mirror.

“I’m going out for coffee with Ned” she said.

Ashara smiled tiredly.

“You are?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m happy for you but I also hate you.”

Catelyn turned back to the mirror to examine her look a final time.

“What have I done to deserve that?”

Ashara leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Cersei and I are stuck here, hangover as fuck, but you’re all pretty and have a date with a cute guy.”

Ned had accepted her following request and Ashara and Cersei had deemed him cute based on the pictures he had. Not amazingly good looking, but definitely cute.

Together the two of them had also reached the conclusion that there was no trace of a partner on his social media. He only had pictures with more than two people in them, which made it hard to determine, but after careful consideration they had said that he didn’t seem to have a girlfriend. Which of course didn’t matter to Catelyn, but they had found it very interesting.

“Thanks, but it’s not a date.”

It definitely wasn’t a date, but she was looking good. Her skin was glowing, her hair cooperated. It was a perfect day.

“Then what is it?”

“I’m meeting a person for coffee, that’s what it is.”

Ashara rolled her eyes.

“That really just sounds like a coffee date, KitKat.”

She didn’t know when Cersei’s ridiculous nickname for her had stuck, but it annoyed her that it had. She had long since given up on trying to fight it. KitKat. Sometimes that was just who she was. A chocolate covered wafer bar.

“If you insist on it, fine, it’s a friend date.”

She walked past Ashara and out of the bathroom. The flat was gloomy and the air was heavy with the smell of what Catelyn guessed was lavender, but she wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter what scented candle it was that Ashara had lit, the only thing that mattered was that Catelyn had an intense dislike of it. She was glad for that she had a good reason to get out of there.

“Is he aware of that it’s a friend date?” Ashara questioned as she followed Catelyn to the hallway.

He had to be. She couldn’t imagine him wanting to date her because why would he want that? She hadn’t exactly made a good first impression. Or second impression. She had been given multiple chances and had managed to fuck it up every time.

“Yes. I don’t think he would want to date me anyway.”

“Why?”

Catelyn tried to keep her mind off the social missteps she had made during her conversations with Ned. If she started thinking about that she would die. Well, she wouldn’t die, but she would have some trouble getting herself to their… friend date. And if she actually managed to get there she would have a very hard time looking at him.

“There’s no need to talk about that.”

A sly grin appeared on Ashara’s face.

“No need to talk about it, huh? Why’s that?”

“I’m an idiot, that’s all there is to say.”

“That isn’t like you.”

“My brain abandoned me somewhere in the middle, I don’t know.”

Catelyn really didn’t want to be that person, but she was smart. She was book smart and also did well in social situations. She was simply overall smart. Therefore she would have liked to know what it was about Ned that made her act like she had never spoken to a person before. What about him was so terribly special that she couldn’t use her brain? He wasn’t special, the only thing that made him stand out from the other people in her life was that he was Swedish. And there were literally millions of other Swedes.

“Good luck with your friend date” Ashara said when Catelyn opened the door to leave.

“Have fun here” Catelyn responded.

She was once more very happy for that she was going out instead of staying inside feeling like a corpse all day.

“We’re gonna order pizza, it’ll be great.”

Catelyn didn’t believe Cersei was awake and based on Ashara’s yawn she she guessed she would go back to bed for a little longer as well.

“Save me a slice.”

“Can’t promise anything.”

“Come on.”

“That’s what you get for ditching us for a guy.”

“Is it somehow my fault that you’re hangover?”

“Cat, honey, shut up and let me be a little bit jealous over your date.”

Why was she jealous? She had a girlfriend. And it still wasn’t a date, Ashara knew that. Catelyn would get no boyfriend out of meeting Ned for coffee.

“You have a girlfriend, go on a date with her.”

“I can’t date anyone in this condition.”

“I want dinner no matter your condition.”

Ashara almost pushed her out the door.

“Don’t keep the Swede waiting.”

“Hey, I need–“

The door shut before she had finished her sentence. She supposed it was for dramatic effect, but it wouldn’t really work as Ashara had pushed her out before she could take her bag and phone. So she opened the door and went back inside.

“Did you not get my hint?” Ashara chuckled. “I was telling you to leave.”

Catelyn snatched her bag up from where it stood on the floor just next to the door.

“I appreciate your attempt at recreating a scene from a shitty movie, but I needed my bag.”

“I knew something would ruin it.”

“Want to try again?”

Ashara looked like she actually considered it for a moment, but then she scrunched up her face.

“Nah, it wouldn’t be the same” she said.

“Sorry for ruining it.”

“I hate you now.”

Catelyn descended the stairs, cursing the fact that the lift was still broken. She didn’t even know how long it had been since it broke. Weeks, maybe months. And when it actually worked it worked for five days at a time anyway. Catelyn was a world champion when it came to running in stairs. She was nowhere near patient enough to simply walk down those stairs, that took way too long.

When she had stepped out on the street she heard her phone’s text signal and smoothly fished it out of her bag. It was a message from Ned. She had got his number after they started following each other on Instagram so that they could have more direct contact.

Is it fine if Oden comes?

Her lips curled into a smile, he wanted to bring his dog. That felt like an honor. She didn’t know if it was, but it certainly felt that way. And she was fine with his dog. It was a large dog, she wasn’t a fan of large dogs. But Oden seemed very polite.

Yeah, it’s no problem

Okay, see you soon

See you soon

She put her phone away again and happily walked towards the subway. She had hoped it would be sunny, it was not. Maybe it would have been if she hadn’t thought of it. The weather seemed to work that way. But it wasn’t raining, and according to her weather app it wouldn’t. It was just cloudy. Which was fine. Cloudy was fine. But it made her a little sad because her hair was at its best with some sunlight at it, if she could say so herself.

She arrived there before Ned. The bookshop was closed Sundays so she couldn’t browse for books while waiting. So she looked at her phone for a bit, tried not to stare at people walking past her. She didn’t know where he lived, so she had no idea about from which way he would come.

But before she knew it he was standing in front of her with Oden next to him.

“Hey” he said.

She smiled.

“Hi.”

“I hope Oden isn’t a problem.”

She crouched down slightly and scratched Oden between his ears.

“Not at all. We’re best friends, right, Oden?”

Not that a dog could answer her, but it seemed like he liked her. He wagged his tail. She didn’t speak dog, but she believed that meant he was happy. Or at least he didn’t hate her.

“He trusts you” Ned said.

She had been joking, but she saw no sign of that he was.

“I’m sorry, I’m bad with dogs, how can you tell that?”

“Oh that’s not about dogs overall, it’s just Oden. He usually doesn’t let people touch his head. His brothers and sisters were a bit mean to him, and they would chew on his ears so he’s sensitive in that area.”

Catelyn previously hadn’t believed that she would ever reach the point in her life where a dog trusted her. She didn’t like dogs, and dogs didn’t like her. It had been that way for as long as she could remember. And still she stood there with a dog who according to his owner trusted her.

“I really do not deserve that” she said dismissively. “At all.”

Ned looked at her for a moment before answering. She looked back into his eyes. Grey. They were grey. And she was certain of that she wouldn’t forget it that time around. Even more so she hoped they wouldn’t go so long without seeing each other that she had time to forget again. But she wouldn’t let that happen.

“I think you do.”

Maybe she was blushing. She had no idea. All she knew was that he was very sweet and that she liked that about him.

“Thank you.”

She had probably held eye contact with him for longer than appropriate but he didn’t seem to mind. When she snapped out of it and averted her eyes, turning her gaze to the street instead.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked.

Ned sighed.

“I’m going to confess something” he then said. “I don’t know a lot about coffee, where I come from we drink it plain and black. So you pick wherever you like.”

Interesting that he had asked her out for coffee then. Maybe that was simply the first thing that had come to his mind when he asked her.

“Okay. Well, this isn’t my part of the city, I’m rarely here, but if we walk around the area I���m sure we’ll find something good.”

She was only there when she was at the bookshop. She had no other reason to be there, she only knew they had a good bookshop there.

“Sounds good.”

They started walking down the street with Oden ahead of them.

“Don’t you have coffee shops in Sweden?” Catelyn said.

It seemed so much like an exaggerated stereotype that she couldn’t really believe it. Sweden wasn’t all winter and woods, was it? They had cities and in cities there were coffee shops. Or so she believed. Maybe Sweden was a stranger country than she had initially thought.

“We have in the cities, but my family is from the country side so I didn’t have easy access to them. I learned to drink my coffee black. In the wrong company you could get shamed for drinking it with a little bit of milk.”

“Really?”

“Proper people drink their coffee black” Ned said in a heavy Swedish accent.

Catelyn couldn’t keep herself from laughing and he smiled.

“I drink my coffee black too sometimes” she said. “But that’s mostly when I’m too tired to put anything in it because I’m studying.”

“Everyday I thank myself for quitting math.”

“I get you, sometimes it’s all pain, but I like it.”

“I’m a bit jealous, I wish I was good at it.”

She was somewhat flattered by that. So he wanted something that she had too, she wasn’t the only one who was a bit jealous of the others talents? Maybe she was a bad person for feeling that. She didn’t really care.

“Do you?”

“I have always admired academic people, but I’m definitely not one of them. My brain’s not wired that way.”

“That’s funny, because I thought the same thing about you when you said that you draw” she confessed. “I wish I was good at that.”

Ned didn’t answer, so she looked at him to see if something had happened. He didn’t look back at her, seemingly deep in thought. Which confused her. Had what she said really been that thought inducing? She didn’t believe so. They stopped at a red light, waiting for the light to turn green so that they could cross the street. The moment she wasn’t walking she realized her hands were getting quite cold. She should have brought gloves, she realized as she stuck them in her pockets.

“I could teach you, if you’d like” he offered.

By then she had almost forgotten that she was talking to someone.

“What?”

“I could teach you, if you’d like” he repeated. “I’m not amazing, and I don’t know how good I am at teaching, but I can try.”

Catelyn wasn’t a person who lost her tongue. She could always talk, even in situations where she got nervous or embarrassed. She always had her words. That wasn’t always something she considered positive, but it was true. Though she believed that what she felt then was the closest thing to speechlessness she would ever come.

They had only met a few times, that was the first time they had actually agreed to meet up. They didn’t know each other too well, they were only acquainted with each other. And still Ned offered to teach her. Still he offered to help her learn something she had wanted to learn for many years.

“Would you do that?” she asked, feeling herself smile.

“If you want to, sure” he responded, shrugging as if it was no big deal.

“I have nothing to give you in return, but thank you. I would love to do that.”

“You don’t need to give me anything in return, it’s just a fun thing.”

It could definitely be a fun thing.

The light turned green and together with the other people who had gathered at the crossing they hurried across the street with Oden leading the way.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“What? No, I’m not cold at all” she lied.

There was no need to fuss about that. She was just too stupid to dress for the weather. Maybe she should have learned to after having been alive for quite some time, but she never seemed to do so. Her father would have shook his head if he could have seen her, he had always stooped her in the door and given her a hat and a pair of gloves.

“Are you sure? Because it really seems like it.”

She should have taken a scarf and a pair of gloves, she could definitely admit to that, but it was a little too late to think of it then.

“What makes you think I’m cold?”

“The fact that your shoulders are up at your ears and your hands are very deep down in your pockets.”

“Okay, I’m a little cold, but it’s nothing.”

If she hadn’t known herself as well as she did she would have looked in her bag to see if she by any chance had a pair of gloves in it. But she did know herself, and was therefore aware of that she would never put gloves in her bag. Looking was therefore unnecessary.

To her great horror he first handed her Oden’s leash, and then took of his own gloves off before offering them to her.

“Ned, there’s no need for that, you really don’t have to” she protested. “You shouldn’t have to be cold because I’m bad at wearing enough clothes.”

Ned didn’t listen to that. He merely took Oden’s leash back and instead gave her the gloves. When he did so his hand touched hers and she felt how warm it was. It could just have been the contrast to her frozen hand, but it felt like he was very warm. They would have made a good match if they were dating in that sense.

“God, your hands are warm” she said.

“I know, that’s why you need the gloves a lot more than I do” he said. “Put them on.”

The need to get her hands warmed up came out victorious in the fight against the want to keep protesting. And she was actually very grateful for the gloves when she put them on and felt an instant relief. They were way too large, but they were a lot better than nothing.

“Thank you, this is very kind of you, but never leave your dog in my hands again. He’s a nice dog, I like him, but I draw the line there.”

“Okay, thank you for letting me know.”

“I’m usually not this bad at planning” she then said, feeling that she had to defend some of what little dignity she had left.

“Just like you’re usually not late?” he quipped, obviously amused by her words.

So he remembered that, did he? That hadn’t been a lie, she was always on time. But the latter was a truth with modifications. She was a good planner, but not when it came to dressing for the weather.

“Yes, like that. I don’t know what has gotten into me lately.”

“I hear that’s what London does to you if you stay here for too long.”

“I think it’s Britain overall, it’s been too long since I was home.”

How long had it been since she visited home? It must have been in the beginning of the summer and at the moment it was the middle of autumn.

“Where are you from?” he asked. “More specifically.”

“Galway. Where are you from?”

“I doubt you would know it, most Swedes don’t know it. It’s a small town. And we didn’t even live in that small place, we lived a bit away from it.”

He was right, she knew exactly two Swedish cities. The two largest ones. And he said he was from a small place earlier so she had known it wasn’t one of those, but it had seemed polite to ask.

“I know Stockholm and Gothenburg, which one is it closest to?”

“Good question, uhm… Gothenburg, I think. But it’s about the same distance to both of them. It’s close to the Norwegian border, not too far from Sweden’s largest lake.”

Just then she realized that she knew absolutely nothing about Swedish geography. She had no idea about the name of the largest lake or where in the country it was. And knowing it was close to the Norwegian border didn’t exactly help, Sweden did have a long border towards Norway. That she knew.

“I’m completely lost” she admitted. “You’ll have to show me on a map.”

Ned laughed.

“Absolutely, but then you’ll have to show me Galway on a map. I have no idea about where that is” he said.

“Don’t you know Galway? There’s eighty thousand people living there.”

“I have heard of Galway, I just don’t know where it is!” he said defensively.

“Okay, small town boy” she chuckled.

He pulled a face at her, making her laugh even more.

“I know I’m not the most academic person, but you’re being unfair, big city girl.”

Catelyn smiled.

“Small town isn’t negative. I like small towns. They have an atmosphere and a feeling that cities don’t have.”

She thought of her grandparents’ house in the country side. She had been there all the time when she was a child, sometimes she had thought it was better there than in the city. Wherever Ned was from was probably lovely.

“Small towns are very different from London” he said. “My siblings dreamed of leaving, but I liked it there. It was calm, not much happened. A good place to make art.”

“You said your older brother lives here, right?”

“Yes. My brother Brandon lives here. I have two younger siblings, as well. A sister, Lyanna, and a brother, Benjen. They’re back in Sweden with my parents. Do you have siblings?”

“I have a younger sister, Lysa, and a little brother, Edmure. He’s twelve, he thinks I’m a total nerd for studying math. He thinks I should get a cool degree instead, like criminology. He still calls a lot and wants to come here to visit though.”

“Despite that you’re a nerd?” Ned chuckled.

“Yeah, despite that I’m a nerd. Apparently I’m still likable and a pretty okay older sister.”

“You’re likable. Och vacker.”

The first thing she understood perfectly, but those last two words she didn’t know. That was Swedish. Why had he started speaking Swedish suddenly? And what did it mean?

“Thank you, but I’m sorry, I don’t know what that second thing means” she said.

Ned gave her a look. She didn’t know what that meant either. There were many things about him that she didn’t know or understand.

“It was nothing” he said.

“No, that wasn’t nothing. If it was nothing you would have told me what it meant” she said, nudging him in the side. “Come on, tell me!”

“No.”

“You’ve made me cur–“

“This might be a good place, don’t you think?”

Catelyn shut her mouth and looked up to see that he was right, that was a coffee shop. She wasn’t sure of exactly where they were, she didn’t recognize it so she had probably never been there before. But they had coffee and that was the only criteria she had.

“You wait here with Oden, I can go inside and order” she said. “What do you want?”

“You already know what I want.”

“Are you sure you don’t want something more fun?”

“Proper people drink their coffee black, big city girl” he reminded her.

She laughed and then took off the gloves, handing them to him.

“Thanks for letting me borrow them, I’ll be back out in a few minutes.”

She opened the door and was met by a wave of heat. It was quite crowded, seemed like everyone had decided to get coffee at the same time. She placed herself at the end of the long line and then took her phone out of her bag, immediately taking up a translator. And then found that she couldn’t remember what that word was that he had said. Or those words. She was pretty sure of that there had been two words, but she couldn’t for her life remember what they were. And it annoyed her. It was annoying that he refused to tell her. Had it been something really insulting? But why would he say something insulting, she didn’t believe she had done anything to deserve that.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee was one she had mixed feelings for. She had worked in a coffee shop for almost a year, and had quit just before starting to take classes that autumn as her working schedule didn’t work out with the classes, and she wasn’t allowed to change it. Coffee was a good scent, but some of her worst interactions with other people had also happened in that environment. She had to get a new job though, she was starting to run low on money.

When it came down to it she got him a latte because she couldn’t bring herself to order black coffee. It was too boring, she had to teach him to drink other kinds of coffee as well.

“What do I owe you?” he asked when she came back outside.

“Nothing, it’s on me this time. And you didn’t get black coffee” she informed him.

“I knew it. Is it a latte?”

“It is a latte.”

“I’ll accept it.”

“You sure you won’t get all soft from the steamed milk?” Catelyn said teasingly.

He took a sip from his mug.

“If I don’t survive the winter it’s your fault.”

“I’ll be sure to let your family know that.”

“Thank you, I’m sure it will bring them much comfort as they’re grieving me.”

“Most definitely.”

“Do you want the gloves?” Ned asked when they started walking again.

She didn’t know where they were going, and she supposed he didn’t either. Just walking could be nice too.

“No, I’m good. I have the warm mug now, and besides they’re your gloves, you should have them.”

“I’ll bring an extra pair next time.”

He wanted to see her more times. Things couldn’t be going bad then, could they? He liked her as well as she liked him.

“Or maybe we’ll see each other indoors” she suggested.

“That works too.”

They crossed a street once more and came out to a park. Why had she never been in that park before? It was a nice park and it was probably even better in summer. She would have to remember that. Maybe she could go there with Ned again. Or she could take Ashara and Cersei there. They went to parks all the time in the summer.

“What do you do in your spare time?” Ned asked.

“If you’re fishing for hobbies now I won’t be able to give you anything. When I don’t study I read, and spend time with my flat mates, occasionally I go to a pub or meet up with other friends. Well, I bake a lot, does that count as a hobby?”

She was actually a quite good baker, but when she thought of it she lived a very boring life. She didn’t consider it boring, she liked it as it was, but it wasn’t anything spectacular. There wasn’t much variation.

“Why wouldn’t it count as a hobby?”

“I don’t–“

Suddenly he almost fell to the side and therefore right into her. Warm coffee splashed over both of them as she stumbled over her own feet. She would have fallen over if he had not quickly dropped her mug in order to grab her arm and hold her upright.

At first she didn’t understand what had happened or why he had lost his feet, but then she realized that it was Oden that had suddenly pulled at his leash.

“För i helvete, Oden!” Ned exclaimed before turning to her. “I’m so sorry, he must have seen a squirrel or something.”

She looked at him, coffee all over his chest area, then looked down at herself. She had equally as much coffee, if not more, all over her. Had she not worn her coat it probably would have burned her.

Catelyn closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again.

“It’s fine, it wasn’t intentional. And no major harm was done.”

She hoped the stains would go away in the washing machine. Otherwise she wouldn’t be that happy, but she still couldn’t be angry at anyone. Neither Ned nor Oden had done it on purpose. And it wasn’t like he didn’t also have coffee all over him.

“Jag visste att jag inte skulle ha tagit med dig” Ned muttered to Oden. “Varför kan du inte bete dig när det behövs?”

The dog stood before them, looking at them with puppy eyes. Seemingly wondering why they had just stopped the walk. When Catelyn met his eyes he tilted his head, wagging his tail.

“And that means?”

“He’s not like this usually, I have no idea about what has gotten into him” he said apologetically.

She believed he had chosen to ignore her question and that wasn’t the translation for what he had said, but she couldn’t be sure about that as she didn’t know a single Swedish word.

“It’s okay, really. Accidents happen.”

He was still holding her arm, and they were standing quite close to each other. There was still some distance between them, but it was far less than when they had been walking. She was blushing, she could feel her cheeks burn. Why did she have to blush, why was that her first reaction to everything?

He noticed just seconds after she did and let go of her arm, then he backed away a step, avoiding her eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for the coffee?” he asked, sounding deeply troubled about it all.

“I’m sure. Next time coffee’s on you, it’ll even out.”

Ned sighed.

“I really feel like I should in some way compensate you for this.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

It felt somewhat ridiculous to stand there and talk about whether or not he should pay her for the coffee while both of them were dripping with it.

She would have laughed if she hadn’t wanted to disappear into the ground, never to appear again. Both because of the ridiculousness of the situation and because it was so far from how it had played out in her head when she had thought about it beforehand. Nowhere in her imaginations had she come up with a scenario where they stood in a park together with his dog, both of them having coffee all over themselves. She should have expected it though. Of course she couldn’t see him one time without something happening.

“Look, I understand if you don’t want to see me again–” he started.

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you again?”

His expression changed from a very anxious one to one that indicated that he believed that she had completely lost it.

“Because I poured almost all of my coffee on you?”

“I poured coffee all over you too, this goes two ways. Oh God, we look ridiculous.”

She could always take some comfort in that they were looking ridiculous together.

“I know, I can see you clearly” he responded dryly.

As if he didn’t look just as stupid as she did. 

"Take a good look then, small town boy. I've never looked better."

She had probably never looked worse. At least when it came to her clothes. It was a good outfit, but the stains didn't really go with it.

"Det är ingen dålig syn."

The whole Swedish thing was fun, she liked hearing him speak his first language, but she was also already tired of not always understanding what he was saying. Communicating in Swedish didn't really work though because she didn't know a word in that language, otherwise she wouldn't have minded at all.

"I'm sorry, Swedish is a fine language, but I don't understand and this time you'll have to translate for me."

"That feels deeply unnecessary."

There was something about the look he had after he had said it that made her even more curious. Like a child who was pretending he wasn't guilty of something he had obviously done and was having a hard time keeping the mask up. What was he saying to her? And why did he refuse to translate it?

"Well, this has been very nice, but I suppose we'll have to continue some other time, because we're both in need of a change of clothes" she said.

She crouched down and picked up the mugs they had dropped. Then she walked over to a nearby trash can and tossed them in it.

"Once again, I'm very sorry” he said.

"There's not much to do about it, so no need to feel sorry."

They began making their way back towards where they had met up, trying very hard to pretend they were not covered in coffee. They actually managed to pass by fairly unnoticed, Catelyn only saw one person give them a look as they walked past. And that wasn't strange, she had seen so much weirder things than two people who had clearly had a little accident while living in London. Maybe it even passed as some sort of fashion statement. When it had just happened it hadn't felt like it, but it could have been worse. A lot worse. She still wanted to disappear from the face of earth when she thought about it, but at the same time she knew that it was definitely a thing she could get over. It had been an accident, it wasn't something she had done or said. That was always an improvement from the times they had met in the bookshop.

"Except for the mess I had a pretty good time" she smiled when they arrived at where they would walk different ways.

"We'll have to do it again without that part" he agreed.

"Indoors" she added.

"I'll bring extra gloves in the future, just in case we need to go somewhere."

She snorted, wondering if he really was that much of an outdoor person.

"That works too."

They fell quiet after that, unsure of what to do. What was appropriate? Could she hug him? That was what seemed most reasonable to her as a handshake was way too formal but she still needed to say goodbye in some way. Hugging also felt most natural to her. Though she couldn't be sure of that he was a hugger. She had never been more thankful for her phone ringing. Maybe a few times, but she was happy to hear her ringtone in that moment. She didn't have to answer it, but it gave her a little more time to figure out what to do.

"I should probably check who it is, I'm sorry" she said apologetically.

She wished she could have just taken up her phone, but it had somehow disappeared underneath everything else she had in the bag. Old receipts, two pairs of sunglasses, a charger, her wallet, a box with a broken bracelet that she had intended to get fixed, some pads. And that was only some of it. How had her phone managed to get down under all that? And when had she put all that crap in the bag? When she finally managed to find it she saw Edmure's name and picture on the screen, and she answered the call with a small smile on her face.

"Uncle wants to know if you're coming home for Christmas" her brother's little voice informed her before she had time to answer.

"Hello to you too, Ed" she chuckled.

"Are you coming home for Christmas?"

It was more than a month and a half until Christmas, why did Uncle Brynden want to know that already? And why wasn't he calling her instead of making Edmure do it? They had regular contact, why hadn't he asked her when they talked the day before?

"I am, but why does he want to know that now?"

"He said why, but I forgot to listen, I just know he told me to ask you that."

She had to keep herself from laughing again by biting down on her tongue. It didn't get easier when she locked eyes with Ned who proceeded to wave back at her despite that they were a meter away from each other.

"Okay."

She would have to call him later and see what it was about.

"What are you doing?" Edmure continued, quickly moving past Christmas.

"I'm out with a friend."

"Is it Ashara or Cersei? Or one of your other friends?"

"His name is Ned, you haven't met him."

There was a short pause from Edmure's side.

"Can I say hello to him?" he then asked.

She could imagine him in his room back in Galway. Sitting at his desk in front of the window of the room, picking at the flaking blue paint on his chair, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He was always like that when she told him about new people.

"Do you want to say hello to my brother?" she said to Ned.

He shrugged.

"Sure, why not?"

She put Edmure on speaker and then held up the phone.

"Alright, you can say hello now, Ed."

"Hello, Ned."

Ned leaned forward slightly to answer.

"Hello, Edmure."

"Are you and my sister actually friends or are you her boyfriend?"

Ned raised his eyebrows in surprise and she felt the moment she stopped breathing, her eyes going wide.

"Pardon?"

"And that's enough!" Catelyn interrupted, quickly taking Edmure off speaker and putting the phone to her ear again. "Say hello to everyone back home and tell them I love them, bye!"

"But–"

She pressed the button to end the call. There was the reason for why not. She should have seen that one coming, she should have known. She could have spared them both the humiliation if she had just thought it through a second time. Edmure didn't have many boundaries, she had hoped that would grow away when he got older, but it never did. Though he still had some years left before he was a lost case, he was only twelve, after all.

"I had no idea that was going to happen, please forgive me" she said in a low voice as she put her phone back in her bag.

If she looked at him she wouldn't be able to see him again. She would have to delete his contact in her phone and erase every proof of that they had ever met.

"My older brother and my sister are exactly like that, I get you."

She had a feeling of that he wasn't looking at her either, but rather up at the sky.

"There's always some comfort in not being alone, I guess."

"There is."

She took a deep breath and then went in for a quick hug. Based on the way his whole body tensed at first she thought it had been a miscalculation from her side, but then he laid his free arm arm over her back and hugged her back. They were only in contact for a few seconds, but during that short time she once more got to feel how warm he was. His future girlfriend would be lucky to have him in the winter, it was nice. He was nice, all of him.

"We'll have to see each other again" she said when they parted.

"Definitely. Will I hear from you in the near future?"

Catelyn scratched Oden behind one ear. He had patiently been standing still and waiting while they had been standing there and talking. Why weren't all dogs like him? She would have liked them a lot better if they were

"You’ll hear from me as soon as I know when I can. Take care."

"You too."

She threw a glance over her shoulder when they walked separate ways. She did so every few seconds until Ned and Oden had disappeared behind a corner and she could no longer see them. She sighed, that sure had been a lot. They had done quite well, she would like to lay the blame with Oden and Edmure for that it had gone as it did. In the future she wouldn't answer any calls from Edmure while she was around people, it was better that way. Much better. When was back home and had climbed up all the stairs to the sixth floor she was met by ABBA. She hadn't even opened the door yet, but she could clearly hear "Dancing Queen". They were probably watching Mamma Mia!, Ashara loved that movie. Catelyn was almost positive she herself had seen the movie half a hundred times just because Ashara put it one at least once a week.

"What the hell did you do in order to look even more like crap than we do?" Cersei asked when she caught sight of her. "Really, what happened to you, KitKat?"

She felt like she was doing a walk of shame. Except for that she hadn't had sex with anyone, she had just spilled coffee all over herself and the person she had been meeting with. She needed fresh clothes. And dinner, she was starving.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, I need a while to process the whole thing."

"Sounds like a successful date" Ashara hummed to the tune of the chorus of the song.

"It was eventful, if nothing else.”

"There's pizza for you in the fridge, if that makes anything better."

Catelyn stopped to look at her, almost believing that she would start crying over some pizza.

"Really?"

"Yeah, go wild."

"I love you, I'll join you in a minute, I just need to change my clothes."