#it is SO obnoxious i can’t tell if my stuff looks alright to anyone else

[spacerockband]

tumblr is crunching all of my uploaded images so bad but only mine and only in the app. why is this happening. are they crunchy for anyone else or are they still alright to zoom on

[happilydistinguishedbanana]

Fallen Pt. 1: Questions

Authors note: Ahhh I’m so excited for this!! This is a alternate reality where the reader wakes up in the Star Wars universe!! I have been wanting to do this for a while, but I have not been the first. I would like to credit Eagleness and Talita01 on AO3 for the idea. If there is anyone else who has done the same, please let me know! This is also pre-Echo era, but he will appear later. Also please let me know if I should choose just a single batcher for the reader to be with or all of them!

Warnings: Blood, vomiting

Summary: One day I’m watching my favorite show in my college dorm room. The next morning I wake up in a hospital with no idea how I got there and two Jedi who are just as confused as myself.

Word count: 2458

Relationship: Undecided Batcher(s) x Female Reader

Part 2

As much as I loved bar hopping with my friends and drinking until I can’t tell the difference between left and right, I hate waking up the next morning with a hangover and a 2,000 word essay due for my college midterm.

“Come on, Sweetie.” My friend Corey moaned, her arm grasping my own with a vice like grip. “Just a few drinks and then we’ll take you home.”

I rolled my eyes. The last time they promised that, I got home after 4:00 am and missed two of my morning classes. Although it didn’t make much of a difference then, I couldn’t afford it this time. “No, I’m not going.”

“What a buzzkill.” One of Corey’s friends whispered to her obnoxious boyfriend. I never liked her and her long nails and her fried hair that she straightened far too often. Her voice sounded like metal scratching on metal and I had no idea how she managed to become friends with someone as nice as Corey. But maybe Corey was the desperate one.

“I’m sorry Corey.” I whispered. “I can’t go tonight, I have stuff due tomorrow.”

She frowned, but dropped my arm and shuffled over to her other friends. She looked back and forth between me and my dorm room's door. “A-are you sure?” She stuttered, her fingers lightly gripping the doorknob. They trembled.

“Corey-”

“Let’s go.” Her friend whined, coddling up to her boyfriend as if she would die if she stood there any longer. I don’t think he minded though seeing as he groped her in the ass. “This new bar opened up, right by that good Chinese place. I’m staaarving.”

“Yeah, come on Corey.” The boyfriend jumped in. “We’re wasting time sitting around here.”

“Leave her, girl.” The girl clicked her tongue impatiently. Sometimes I wonder how Corey got dragged into being friends with people like that. They’re nothing special, and even she doesn’t seem to like them. Maybe I’m delusional.

“Alright.” Corey nodded, giving me one last look before opening the door and leaving with her lackluster friends. I couldn’t help but notice the unshed tears pooling in her eyes.

I pulled out my phone quickly to send her a text, but my battery was dead. Stumbling through my dorm, I frantically searched for a charger. Under the bed, in the dresser, on my nightstand, even inside the mini fridge, but it was like it vanished.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I ran my hands through my hair. If I couldn’t find my cord, I wouldn’t be able to text Corey, and if her friends are as bad as they seem, they might leave her to find a way back to the dorms. What if she needed a ride? What if something happens? What if she just needs a friend to talk to?

I tapped my foot nervously before deciding that slumping down in my bed and pulling out my computer would be my best course of action. Maybe finishing my essay would distract me enough.

I scroll through what I had written, rereading paragraph after paragraph only to find that everything was finished and edited. All I would need to do was print the damn thing and submit it tomorrow morning. I could have gone out with Corey after all.

But it was too late to do anything about it now. My hands moved to open a new tab and click onto the familiar bookmark that I kept close to my heart. The website started up and I eagerly opened my favorite pastime of my college years. The Bad Batch.

I had watched the infamous Star Wars saga when I was young, usually with a bowl of popcorn and my favorite drink to go with. My father watched the first ever movie when he was just a child in 1977 and after he had kids of his own, he wanted them to experience the same joy he had felt. It stuck with me and I continued to watch any show related to it since.

But the Bad Batch was something I had gotten into a little later than everyone else. Both seasons were released when I started watching it and after several long months, today was the day I was going to finish it. It would have been exciting if I didn’t already know what happened. Spoilers still reached my ears no matter how hard I tried to ignore it.

“Plan 99.” Tech said through the screen, my own lips quoting every word. I watched him fall to his death and despite knowing he was going to die, I still felt sad. But I did not cry, I hardly ever cried when I was sad and this certainly was not an exception. And maybe a part of that was influenced because Tech’s death just didn’t feel solid. It felt fake. It didn’t feel as real as when Echo “died” or when Gregor “died.” Something was missing from the equation.

My eyes started to droop by the time I finished the final episode. I checked the clock to see it was past 12:00. Corey wasn’t home, she wouldn’t be at this time. I tried to stay up to wait for her, to make sure she came back all in one piece. But the draw of sleep was just too hard to resist. I fell into a fitful rest.

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

I did not share a room with anyone, so when I drifted awake, I laid rigidly when I heard several voices just outside the door. Several male voices though they sounded strangely familiar.

When I opened my eyes, I became even more confused. This was not my room. Bright lights were shining on me as if I was some test subject. There were medical monitors and white walls and the stale smell of medicine and disinfectant.

A hospital. I was in a hospital.

I sat up and took in my surroundings even more. I wore a medical gown, there were no handles on the doors, the male voices outside were still there, a… droid was sifting through a drawer on the opposite side of the room?

My breath caught in my throat. A part of me knew that I was not in any danger, but seeing a hunk of metal the size of a grown man, pulling out needles and bottles out of a drawer did nothing to calm my nerves. I certainly did not feel any better when he? It? Turned to me and started speaking in a language I did not know.

“Wait!” I jumped out of the cot when it tried to grab me by the arm. I stumbled back into some of the equipment, glass and metal and wires crashing into the floor with me. The droid skittered around still speaking gibberish as if it became flustered and confused.

I whipped my head around when the door slid open. I audibly gasped when none other than Mace Windu and Obi Wan Kenobi stepped through the door, their lightsabers in their hands like second nature, ready for use.

They were on alert until they saw me on the floor. They sheathed their sabers and gave each other a look I couldn’t read.

Windu went to calm down the droid while Obi Wan headed over to me. He was speaking to me, saying words I’m sure anyone else could understand. I stared at him blankly and suddenly he stopped, turned, said a few words to Windu, and then pulled me up by the shoulder and placed me back on the cot. He then ushered the droid out of the room leaving Windu and I alone.

I could feel pain in my shoulder, and I reached back with my hand to find out why. It came back bloody. I shivered before rushing over to the sink at the other end of the room and vomited. I felt a warm hand on my back and mumbled words which I knew were words or reassurance. But I still couldn’t understand anything.

Windu started to dress my wound, though it was done rather poorly. He said nothing more to me, and it gave me a moment to think.

I’ve seen stuff similar to this in movies and T.V shows.Young boys traveling to the past, superheroes ending up in alternate universes, people using telephone booths as a time machine, I’ve even had dreams about similar concepts. But this certainly didn’t feel like a dream. I never had a dream that felt so real, I never felt pain in a dream, never felt the coolness of air filtering in through a vent, never smelt the stale disinfectant smell of hospitals. Could this reality be real?

Windu finished right in time for Obi Wan to return, a datapad in hand. They both chatted to each other quietly, Obi Wan waving the device in the air. Windu nodded and then left the room.

I watched Obi Wan hesitantly. He was one of my favorite characters, but I don’t throw my trust around blindly. And knowing him, I’m sure he doesn’t trust me either.

He approached me and pushed the data pad close to my mouth. He pointed a finger at his lips, said a few words, and then pointed to the data pad. It picked up his words, printing them onto the screen and displaying them in a language that I had seen written on billboards in the show but never took the time to understand.

I opened my mouth to speak and said the first thing that came to mind. “I need to fucking pee.”

It took a moment for the scanner to pick up what I said, but eventually words started to form on the screen. Obi Wan turned it around, looked at it and then laughed. His eyes glittered while he tinkered with the device and then he spoke a few more words into it and handed it over to me.

How badly? It read.

I gave him a knowing look and he laughed again and gestured towards the door. I felt a bit vulnerable in just my gown, but I followed him anyway. We weren’t on Kamino, I knew that much. Maybe Coruscant? There weren't any windows in the medical facility I was put in. The walls were white and medical droids and other patients walked the hallways, but there wasn’t a clone in sight. It must be a local hospital.

Obi Wan was speaking to me as best as he could through the datapad. Simple questions like my name and age and how I ended up passed out in front of the Jedi Temple. That was something I could not answer. I kept quiet for the most part about where I was from or what I was doing before now. If it was true that I fell through into another universe, I don’t think it would be smart to tell a Jedi Master that.

The bathrooms are just up ahead. He said and I thanked him.

Eventually he took me outside the facility, and I got a view of what was the bustling city planet known as Coruscant. Speeders and ships flew through the air, hundreds of people and aliens alike walked the streets as if today was just any other day. For them it was a normal day. For me, it might have been my worst nightmare.

We walked to the Jedi Temple, the sheer size intimidating. I started to think that they might use some Jedi mind tricks on me, break down any sanity I had just to find the truth. And then another part of me thought that they had no idea and really I was just some random girl who showed up on their doorstep. But what worried me the most was if they thought I was some Separatist spy. Thinking that made me question which was worse. Psychological torture or physical torture.

But all of my worries vanished once we were inside. It was like everything suddenly got brighter, happier, and more peaceful. It was like a breath of fresh air, and suddenly I was calm. Jedis clad in long robes of brown and white and gray walked casually about, their footsteps eerily quiet. It smelt like honeysuckle and tea. Old. It smelt really old.

Kenobi spoke again. I glanced at the datapad in my hands. You’ve calmed. I nodded and he continued to talk. You weren’t before. I could sense your unease, but I could also sense that you are familiar with me and Master Windu. Isn’t that right?

I didn’t answer. He wasn’t wrong, I knew him a hell of a lot more than he might think. Windu more or less.

“Why are we here?” I asked as if I was clueless.

To talk. He said no more.

It was intimidating to be in front of some of the strongest Jedis in the Star Wars universe. They all eyed me like I was something to be feared, something to be watched and kept on a five foot long leash. And I felt vulnerable and scared, my shoulders still boring that sickly smelling hospital gown.

Each had their own datapad, all except for Master Yoda. They asked questions, simple at first, almost the same things Obi Wan had asked me earlier, and then they started asking me things that required more complicated answers. Sometimes I would only give half answers, sometimes I would give no answers at all. But I would not lie. It would be pointless if I did.

They came to a verdict at the end of it all. I would be assigned a clone force, I wasn’t told which, but I had my suspicions. I would be watched, listened to, examined and picked apart at.

“Honest, you have not.” Yoda told me. Those were the first words I heard in a language I actually knew. “Find out, we will.”

I was put in a nice room in the Jedi Temple, but it lacked the warmth of a well lived home. Everything was white, the sun shined in, bouncing off the walls and encompassing my room in this bright glow. I hated it. The bed was comfortable, but it didn’t compare to my room back at the college. There were nice clothes in the closet. I could tell they were put there just this day. It reminded me of what Senator Amidala was so often seen wearing in the show. I would hardly compare even if I dressed in the fine and flowy silks.

I’d fallen asleep feeling exhausted emotionally. But deep down, somewhere in that small part of me that was actually excited to be here, I wished that whoever I was put with, I hoped it was the rowdy bunch known as The Bad Batch.

[ayamturd]

bisexual│mcyt hc

warnings: small mentions of hate, fluff

prompt: (requested 1 & 2) “Hello uh I saw one of your posts about the dream smp reacting to you coming out so I was wondering if you haven't already done it can you do dream smp reacting to you coming out as bisexual?” 

“Hello yamturd so I was wondering if maybe you could do tubbo, Tommy and Ranboo reacting to reader coming out as bisexual or lesbian if you haven't already done it :)” 

pairings: irl platonic! dream, ranboo, tommy and tubbo ; c!technoblade

a/n: if i offend or misinterpret anything in this hc, please feel free to message and correct me otherwise. i will always try to correct or delete this post if asked so <33

sending my love to all those who identify as bisexual <33

wc: (1.5k) - m.list

dream - 

considering his prideful personality sometimes, you probably wanted to play with his ego and drop subtle hints

not anything too obvious, but enough to make him kick himself when he realizes

though it was admittedly difficult since he plays into the dnf ship so much that he thinks you’re also joking more than half the time 

imagine you two were in a voice call one evening and randomly discussing the recent fanon and what would be funny to turn into canon (to mess with the fandom)

you’ve been recently shipped with two other content creators, both of opposing female and male gender, separately and together

“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind hitting that.” “Which one?” “Both.”

He’d laugh, but you didn’t.

“Wait, you’re serious? You actually identify as…?” “Bisexual. Yeah, I’m pretty sure anyway.” “Y/n, that’s amazing.”

takes pride in the fact that you trust him, but would feign being upset that you messed with him for as long as you did

be jokingly offended if he found out someone knew before him

“Wait…” “Yes?” “You told Bad??” “Yeah, he was one of the first.” “W— Why??”

It was your turn to laugh while he gawked in disbelief.

“It’s Bad! Of course I told him.” “… Fair enough.”

hate is a given, and he’ll always be there to support and defend you

he’ll always ask your permission before taking any action, however, because he respects you too much and knows you can fight your own battles

dream is someone will show relentless support, whether that be through words or moral support, he’ll always be there for you 

c!technoblade - 

i honestly feel like you never officially came out to techno

as you began to recognize yourself as bisexual, you slowly expressed yourself around him more openly to the point where he unconsciously knew

it’d probably would have hit him in the most random moment after months of assuming he knew

imagine you’re in the midst of battle when techno paused entirely with wide eyes 

“Y/n!” “What!?” “Are you gay??”

you would tease him when discussing your love life in one-sided conversations with him; him basically choosing to ignore you when you talk to him

“Honestly, Techno, how could you not want to hit that?” “Please, just stop.”

(i’ve written this before but will stand by this that) he truly doesn’t care for your sexuality

you’re a friend, someone he trusts and relies on, he doesn’t need to consider who you’re attracted to since he sees you for your skills and friendship

the only, and only time he is mindful of your sexuality depends on others unnecessary comments about it

the smp is a known judgement free land, but there will always be someone with ignorant opinions that he is always quick to shut down (or kill)

nothing much can be said besides the fact that you’ll always be y/n to him: a loyal friend and someone he would fight the world for

ranboo - 

oh sweet ranboo, dear ranboo

considering how openly supportive and kind he naturally is, you didn’t question the idea of telling him

i’d like to imagine that unlike most where you planned or waited to tell, the moment you knew, he would know soon after

imagine you called him before he began his lore stream to hype him up

you both were talking about more mundane things to calm his nerves as people joined when you brought it up

“Oh actually, before you start, I wanted to tell you something.” “Sure, what is it?” “Well, I— I’m Bisexual.” “…You’re tELLING ME THIS WHEN I’M ABOUT TO START MY STREAM??” “Y/n! I’m so happy for you, that’s amazing!”

he’s incredibly patient concerning how you wanted others to know or when you were ready to be completely out

similar to c!techno with the same beliefs you’re still y/n, and nothing has changed besides you coming out as yourself

he’s your go to when days are rough, because he knows how to help you understand you’re still loved as the same y/n and nothing less

“Hey, hey, listen to me. I love you, y/n. We all do, and you’ll never be alone when things get rough, alright?” (love /p)

knows how to silently deal with hate in his chat unless it becomes evident enough to address it (doesn’t want to bring attention to meaningless words until it becomes serious)

ranboo’s your rock and makes show that he’ll never believe anything other than that you deserve love

tommyinnit - 

as someone who took pride in defending the LGBTQ+ community, you had no hesitation when coming out to tommy

if any, your reluctance would come from accepting yourself to the point to be open with other people

it’s not as if he didn’t accept you, he could never imagine doing so in the slightest, but he probably wouldn’t know what to say initially

imagine you both were in the midst of playing bedwars together in a recording for a video

he had been busy gathering emeralds while you remained at the base, and the comforting silence gave you the confidence to blindly address it

“Hey Tommy?” “What, y/n? I’m in the middle of something right now.” “Oh, um, I’m pretty sure I’m bisexual.” “…” “…Tommy?” “…” “T— Tommy?”

it’d be dead quiet for a few seconds before you heard the noise of him rustling in realization

“Wait wait wait, you’re serious? You’re bisexual?” “Haha yeah, yeah, I am.” “WHA—!”

he was happy for you, to say the least

tommy loves to joke, and one he loved to make would be your attraction to both genders

you like women? pog!

you like men? a shame, honestly

if you were publicly out, his favorite bit would be to include you in his obnoxious swooning

imagine he was streaming while talking about his love for women

“Boys, honestly, the ladies just can’t resist me.”

The ding of discord notified you entering the call, the sound of your laughter immediately coming through.

“I agree, Tommy, I definitely agree.” “Y/n! You are attracted to women, and I am also attracted to women. You can agree women are amazing, yes?” “I can, Tommy. Women are indeed amazing.” “Good lad!” “Tommy, you do realize I’m not only attracted to w—” “Shush, we don’t speak of that.”

he showed his support by normalizing your sexuality, his acceptance quick and easily integrated into your lives

(this is getting long but—) tommy was well aware he lacked some knowledge when being in the LGBTQ+ community, but openly voiced his ignorance as a sign of awareness itself

he was always quick to correct either himself or others, he refused to accept slander of any type in his streams

would probably try to keep it light heartedly, but scold nonetheless

tommy was your figurative cheerleader, always there to include and uplift you, whether that be through the smallest gestures or loudest cheers

tubbo - 

poor tubbo

since he wasn’t the most careful with secrets, you probably withheld telling him till you were ready for most to know

this isn’t to deter anything of not trusting him, he’s still supportive and loving tubbo that wouldn’t dare do anything purposeful against you

if anything, you might have forgotten that he didn’t know when you were casually taking about it within a group

imagine you and Ranboo were trying to get him to sleep one early morning but gave up

you started talking about personal stuff and the topic of your love life came up, specifically the attraction to someone of the same gender

“I don’t know, Ranboo, I mean, I think I like them but at the same time I’m not sure.” “That’s fai—” “Wait, y/n. You’re gay??” “Bisexual, actually.” “WaAA—”

his very sleep deprived state was extremely happy and emotional for you

he’s like the little duckling with a knife, like he loves you completely but will try to hurt anyone that offends you

like tommy, he has no personal knowledge when being in the LGBTQ+ community but will solely learn for your sake

whether you’re younger or not, tubbo never fails to remind you that he looks up to you

he gives his all and won’t hesitate to provide in any way he can if needed

“You matter,” he’ll always say, “you’re important and no one else’s opinion matter.”

is proud to be your friend and expresses his platonic love in full, for you’re you and are so brave to be yourself despite all

choosing not to tag my usual taglist just cause its a headcanon with a specific request <33 (huge ty to @basilly​ and @inniterhq​ though for the advice/motivation to finish this)

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 14) - Keep Close

Summary: The Ackles have the Padalecki’s over for dinner and let it slip that they’re engaged. Things seem to be going well but the anniversary of the accident is coming up and the reader comes up with the Ackles taking their first vacation together as a means of distracting Jensen as well reconnecting with Ray...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of sex, mention of a dead parent/spouse, anxiety

A/N: Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

“I’m stuffed,” said Jensen that night, the kids running around playing soccer in the yard after dinner. 

“I need that chicken recipe,” said Jared.

“I’ll write it down for you guys,” you said, sitting back in your chair. “You can do it with breast too if you like that better.”

“I want exactly this like, everyday from now on,” said Jared. Gen rolled her eyes and Jensen pulled out his phone. “Want me to take a pic?”

“I don’t need your freakishly long arms just yet,” chuckled Jensen. He turned around and took one of the four of you at the table before handing off his phone. “Mind getting one of us?”

“Your mom harassing you for engagement photos already?” asked Gen.

“By the time we were leaving they were both asking for photos and being obnoxious. Better than they were though,” said Jensen, smiling beside you. Jared took a few more and handed the phone back. 

“I still can’t believe your parents would act like that,” said Gen. “I mean obviously I’m super happy it got fixed but that’s so unlike them.”

“They made a mistake is all,” you said with a smile. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m going to finish this beer in the pool.”

“I think I’ll join you,” said Jared. He stood up and had a look on his face you caught too late. Before you knew it he had you picked up and was jogging over to the deep end and jumping in with you.

“Jared!” you said when you popped up. He giggled and swam off to the shallow end. “After I helped pick up the plates ya big lug.”

“We got it,” said Jensen, carrying over two beer cans and handing them to you. “We’ll join you guys in a few.”

About ten minutes later Jensen was leaning against the side of the pool in his bright red swim trunks, handing you the other half of his cookie cake piece.

“So any big plans for the wedding?” asked Jared, sat on the pool steps with Gen.

“I have a thought,” you said, turning to Jensen. “I haven’t discussed it with Jensen yet.”

“Vegas. Shotgun wedding,” he laughed. You shook your head and he grinned. “You’re thinking the farm, aren’t you.”

“What do you think? It could be outdoor or indoor, whatever it needs to be depending on the weather.”

“I’d love that,” he said, giving you a squeeze. “That’d be perfect for us.”

“You own a farm?” asked Jared. 

“Yeah, ten minutes from the brewery.”

“Dudes. You can open bar with your own beer. Oh and dibs on being a groomsmen.”

“Like that wasn’t gonna happen,” said Jensen.

“I don’t know on that,” you said. Jared’s face fell and you shook your head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that you wouldn’t be one. Of course you would. I just don’t have a lot of close girlfriends. I think it’d be weird if Jensen had a ton and…”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” said Gen. “We didn’t have an even number at our wedding.”

“We got time to figure that stuff out,” said Jensen, holding your waist. You finished the last bite of cookie and hummed. 

“So you two having a kid?” asked Jared. Gen whacked his chest and he shrugged.

“Jesus, Jare. Don’t ask that.”

“They’re our best friends and godparents to our children...although I guess Y/N didn’t know that she inherited that until now but come on, I know you’re wondering too.”

“Shut up,” said Gen, crossing her arms. “Obviously if they decide, they’ll tell us when it happens.”

“Yeah, I think there’ll be at least one,” you laughed. Gen lit up and turned to Jared.

“Last time they said they were having a baby guess what we did? I can’t handle no more babies,” said Jared.

“Can you even get that thing up anymore?” teased Jensen, sipping on his beer.

“You’re one to talk, old man.”

“That shit still works just fine.”

“Just fine?” shot back Jared.

“Oh my God. You’re both good at sex. Y/N be grateful you’ve missed this same conversation over and over for the past sixteen odd years,” said Gen. 

“I’m still taller,” said Jared with a smirk.

“I can last longer,” said Jensen with one of his own. They narrowed their eyes at one another and Jared stood up.

“Go wrestle on the grass,” groaned Gen. They both huffed and got out of the pool before starting to playfully wrestle. “See, what you may not realize yet is you have another child right there.”

“Yeah but he’s hot,” you said, Gen laughing while you sat beside her. “Do you guys really talk about sex with each other?”

“Yes and no. The boys are you know, boys. They’d combust if they didn’t tease each other. I wouldn’t say there’s like, intimate details or anything ever shared. They’re both pretty private about that sort of thing. Dee and I would talk but more so say we had fun the night before. Shit we probably talked about sex toys more than anything.”

You stopped mid sip of your beer and she laughed.

“When your guy is thousands of miles away for that long out of the year, you gotta get off on your own. You get pretty good at phone sex too. You’re lucky. Jensen won’t be staying away so long ever again he said.”

“No, no. But uh...before Jensen I’d had the same boyfriend forever and he was as vanilla as could be. We didn’t do that stuff really together.”

“I can text you some links to stuff. It’s not like you have to go in some scary store or anything. It’s discrete and I think a small vibe would be great to start with. You can use it during sex or foreplay or whatever. Just you know, have fun.”

“Jensen and I kinda got busted by the cops a week or so back for...activities in the backseat,” you said. She started to laugh and you groaned. “Thankfully it was his friend that caught us so he let us off the hook but...it was kinda fun.”

“Good,” she said, sighing as Jensen pinned Jared down. “Hey so yeah about that wedding thing. Jared had two more groomsmen than I had girls. It doesn’t have to be matchy, matchy, you know?”

“I know. I don’t know if…” you trailed off. “I lost my friend group when I broke it off with my last boyfriend. We’d been together for over ten years and I kept turning down his proposals and they didn’t like that. I have some nanny friends but not a lot and no one I’m really close to. I don’t know if I’d even get more than five people to come for me. Everyone else is his family and friends and I didn’t think about that until just now. I mean what would they think, seeing that? I don’t know if I even want anyone there now.”

“I think what they’d see is someone they care about marrying someone he loves. Just because we’re Jensen’s friends doesn’t mean we’re not your friends too. I know we’re still getting to know each other but we’ll be as close as those two eventually. Ruthie was texting me and we’re having a girls night the next convention in Dallas. You literally have a built in crew ready to go from the show, the girls and the guys. You are so coming with me to the next night I have with my local girlfriends and you got our family. You even got Dee’s parents. You have more than you know, sweetie.”

“I never had a best friend growing up except for my mom. Until Jensen,” you said. “I’ve never really been good at the friend thing.”

“Were you bullied in school?” she asked quietly.

“Don’t tell anyone besides Jared but my dad wasn’t a good person. He hurt me and so I was afraid of getting in trouble so I didn’t talk to other kids all that much until I got old enough to understand what he was doing was wrong and that’s how I ended up being adopted.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can’t do anything about it now. But I can have it not control my life too. I’ve been pretty good since I was nine in that department. My mom dying sucked and things have been up and down but I like where I am now. This is easily the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Jens’s not perfect.”

“I know. But he’s good enough. He gave me a certain confidence to live my life, like really live it.”

“He’s alright,” she smiled. “You know I have an idea about this bridesmaids thing you might like.”

“You?”

“Oh I would for sure but I meant more so I know two little girls that wouldn’t mind. Maybe there’s a boy too,” she said.

“I’m gonna need you to be my wedding planner at this rate,” you said.

“Job accepted,” she said. “I say we go farmhouse modern style.”

“Gen. I got engaged like two weeks ago. We have time,” you said. “We don’t even have a date.”

“At the very least can we go dress shopping?” she asked.

“I’m going to regret this,” you sighed as Jensen stepped back in the water.

“Get yourself a stronger man, Padalecki. That one is weak,” he said. Jared followed him right after and went to tackle him when Gen caught his arm.

“Boys, not in the water,” she said.

“Chicken?” asked Jensen.

“Losers pick up the tab for when we go out this weekend for dinner. Deal?” asked Jared.

“Well in that case, you’re on.”

Two Weeks Later

“Jensen,” you said, carding your fingers through his hair while he absentmindedly burnt some eggs. “You okay babe?”

“Yeah. We ought to pack up the kids, get on the road soon if we’re gonna hit the beach.”

“I’m gonna drive, okay?” you asked. He nodded and you got out the eggs again, making up a new batch. “Do you want to talk to Ray?”

“Why?” he asked quietly, leaning back against the counter.

“Anniversaries of traumatic events can be triggering,” you said. “My mom died two days ago. Well, you know what I mean.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

“Because it doesn’t trigger me anymore. But it did and this is the first time...the first one is the roughest.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I ought to talk to him.”

“Eat your breakfast. I’ll give him a call and get the kids ready while you guys talk, okay?” you said.

“Thank you,” he said. You kissed his cheek and hugged him before you went upstairs for your phone. It rang a few times but Ray finally answered, noise in the background.

“Y/N. Everything alright?” he asked.

“Hey. Yeah. We’re...we’re pretty good. Today’s the first anniversary of Jensen’s-”

“Ah. I understand.”

“Listen, I know it’s a Sunday and you don’t work the weekends but would you mind talking to him for a few minutes? We’re going down to Galveston for the week in a bit but he’s off this morning.”

“I’d talk to him even if he wasn’t your fiance but especially because of that. You know we’re actually down here ourselves for a few days. Just got down yesterday. If you guys are around...maybe we could get together for that swim.”

“I’d like that. You okay?” you asked.

“I always get a little down on the day but Sarah understands. You understand.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna put Jensen on and um, maybe we can meet at Arillo’s for dinner?”

“We got a reservation there ourselves tonight. How many in your crew? Five? I’ll call and ask for an update.”

“Yeah there’s five of us. Um, Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for being so horrible as a teenager after mom. You loved her as much as I did.”

“Thank you but you don’t have to apologize for that. You got too much pain in your life. I’m glad you found the good stuff too.”

“Are Geroge and Taylor there?” you asked.

“Yeah kids are here. Taylor’s got some internship but she does it online half the day and George is some research assistant thing for one of his professors but same kinda deal. We leave them to work in the morning while Sarah and I have some fun. Want me to let them know you’re coming?”

“Probably a good idea. Not sure how they’ll react,” you said, Jensen poking his head into the bedroom. “Here’s Jensen.”

“Okay, sweetie. We’ll see you guys soon.”

You handed the phone to Jensen and finished up packing while he sat on the bed. You tried to leave him be but couldn’t help listening in.

“Yeah I’m anxious...I don’t want her to drive down today...you know why...I guess...probably...I don’t want to be freaking out for three hours in the car...because it’s today...I know...I know...so I have to suck it up...I don’t want to have a panic attack in the car with the kids...no I haven’t...I’m scared I will though...yeah...I understand...dude that sounds so stupid...that’s not medically anything...no I don’t have my doctorate...I don’t wanna ask her...I said I don’t want to, not that I wouldn’t...I know...I will...maybe I’ll try that too...yeah, Y/N said the first year is the roughest too...I’ll let her be in charge until we get down to the beach today. I think I’ll feel better after the car...yeah I kinda figured out what she was doing planning a trip on today of all days...I need it...really? Yeah, I’m looking forward to meeting up down there too...thanks Ray.”

You finished with your suitcase and had his open for him when he walked into the closet. He swallowed and handed your phone back.

“All good?” you asked.

“Ray thought it might be a good idea if I had something of yours with me on the way down, to keep on me since I’m...anxious this morning about being in a car.”

“Something of mine…” you said, looking at your side of the closet. “Why don’t you pack up and I’ll get you something before the road, okay?”

He nodded and twenty minutes and about three bathroom trips later the SUV was packed up. You hopped behind the wheel, Jensen tapping the arm rest from the passenger seat. 

“Here,” you said, reaching into your pocket, pulling out a bracelet. It was fabric, the kind made from craft string, white, rusty orange and a light tan color mixed together. 

“I’ve never seen this,” he said as he held it between his fingers.

“I got it on vacation with mom and Ray. Last one we went on,” you said, tying it around his wrist. “You have it.”

He stared at you as you turned the engine on, watching you backout. 

“This is too important for me to take,” he said quietly.

“It’s fabric. I want you to have it, okay?” you said, pulling onto the street and closing the gate. He nodded and you turned the radio on low. “Coffee run?”

“Yeah. Coffee sounds good right about now.”

You were only about fifteen or so minutes away from the beach house you’d rented. The kids were either taking naps in the backseats or watching a movie on the ipad. You risked a glance at Jensen, his fingers absently toying with the bracelet while he looked out the window, the radio on low. 

“How you doing big guy?” you asked as you pulled off to the exit ramp. 

“Pretty good now,” he said softly. 

“Mind navigating for me?” you asked. He hummed and picked up your phone from where it sat in the console the past few hours. About twenty minutes or so you were stretching outside of the car, Jensen opening the front door of the house with the code you’d been given. The kids climbed out and were good about each taking their own backpacks while you and Jensen gathered up the rest. 

“Come here,” he said, leaving the bags by his feet and kissing you against the side of the car. You grinned and he picked you up in a big squeezing hug. “I love you.”

“I know,” you said. He set you down and kissed you again. “You seem like yourself again.”

“I needed that push, get over that fear. But now, I can enjoy my day with my girl and my kiddos and apparently we are having dinner with Ray and his family tonight?” he asked.

“If that’s alright,” you said.

“One hundred percent,” he said, Arrow jumping up and down nearby. “Honey, go use the bathroom in the house if you have to go.”

“No I’m excited!” she said. “Can we go play on the beach? Pretty please?”

“Hm, give daddy fifteen minutes and then we can go?” he asked. She turned to you and grinned.

“We’ll go really soon sweetie. I promise.”

“Hey guys,” said Jensen an hour later, the five of you down on the beach and mostly watching them build a sandcastle together. “Y/N and I want to tell you something.”

“Is it that you guys are getting married?” asked JJ, patting some sand with her shovel. You glanced at Jensen and he shrugged. “You were talking to Aunt Gen and Uncle Jared about it last night, right?”

“Well, yes we were,” said Jensen. “I suppose we were a little louder than we thought. But yes, Y/N and I have decided to get married. We’re not sure when exactly but in the next year I can say.”

“So we have a mom again?” asked Arrow, fixing her corner of the castle that kept caving in.

“Well you guys are kinda lucky. You’ll get two moms,” he said. “How’s that sound?”

“We missed mom’s day,” she said with a sigh. “Right?”

“We’ll catch it next year, promise,” said Jensen. “Do you guys have any questions or anything you want to say?”

“Do we call you mom now?” asked JJ. 

“You guys call me whatever you want,” you said.

“Can we call you mom?” she asked. You nodded and she went back to playing in the sand. 

“Anything else guys?” asked Jensen.

“Can I get a giraffe?” asked Zeppelin while he figured out how much water to add to the sand to get it to stick together.

“No sweetie. They wouldn’t fit at our house,” said Jensen. 

“Darn it,” he said.

“I can tell you’re all so invested in this topic,” chuckled Jensen.

“Oh! Can my flower girl dress be purple?” asked JJ. 

“Your dress can be whatever color you want it to be,” you said.

“Awesome,” she said. “Or black and purple. With lightning stripes.”

“Ah, I knew the classic rock would finally pay off,” said Jensen.

“Maybe Daddy’s suit can be black and white stripes, like a tiger,” you said.

“Like a White Snake music video more like it,” he laughed. “We’ll figure all that stuff out. We wanted to make sure you guys knew was all and if you have any questions or were nervous or anything you know you can ask either one of us.”

“Mom makes you happy again. Of course you gotta marry her!” said Arrow. “Oh and get her a pony. Girls like that.”

“Would you care for a pony, sweetheart?” asked Jensen as he shook his head. 

“Are we talking mustang kind of pony?” you asked.

“That’s my girl,” he said, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, kissing your cheek. “Let dad get a picture of you guys. We’re on vacation after all.”

Five Hours Later

“Jensen,” you said, changing into a light summer top and a pair of denim shorts after your shower. He was standing by his suitcase undressed, trailing his finger over his scar. “Honey?”

“A year ago was the worst day of my life and today was a really great one. I get to meet Ray more and even Sarah and the kids who all sound great and...I’m really happy I’m still here to see all this.”

“Me too,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “Wear your red underwear.”

“Is that a request?”

“I like how you look when you take it off,” you said, gently smacking his ass as you went to go fix your hair.

“I am so grateful I found you,” he said to himself. You smiled and brushed your teeth quickly before checking yourself over and taking a selfie. You sat up on the counter and opened instagram, still silently grateful you’d always had it on private. There was nothing bad on it but Jensen and Jared had tagged you before and all of the comments always seemed to be negative.

“How do I look?” asked Jensen, walking in wearing a short sleeve navy button down and his red underwear.

“So sexy,” you giggled, Jensen digging through his other bag and finding his khaki shorts. 

“Can I get away with sneakers and a backwards baseball cap at this restaurant?” he asked.

“Totally. We always eat outside. It’s near the pier,” you said, putting up your post.

“Taking more pictures I can show off of you again?” he asked, grabbing your brush and getting some control of his damp hair back.

“Nobody even sees my instagram hardly,” you said.

“You know the internet knows we’re dating, right.”

“I’m pretty sure your fans still aren’t okay with that fact, even if they know.”

“Oh you’re mistaking the nutjobs for actual fans. The real ones, those guys are cool and nice. I actually got a lot of care packages and things from them last year. Still do. They really are good people. Those other ones that leave nasty comments? Fuck them. That shit don’t bother me anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying family and friends know. Can I show off the woman I love to the world?” You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in front of you, his head cocking. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Better late than never.”

“Okay,” he said. “For now though, I’m looking forward to this dinner.”

“I hope it goes well. It’s George and Taylor I’m more worried about. They were kids when I decided to stop coming around. I only knew them maybe two years, if even that. I know they were upset.”

“Give them some credit. Ray raised them too after all.”

“I’m all set!” said Zeppelin, walking into the bathroom with his paw patrol shirt and nothing else on.

“At least I was gonna wear underwear,” chuckled Jensen. “Little dude. Get some undies on and shorts in the next two minutes or else…” he trailed off as he came in and hugged Jensen’s leg. 

“I love you, daddy,” he said.

“I love you.”

“Can we get a giraffe now?” he asked. Jensen rolled his eyes and you released him.

“Let’s go finish getting you dressed, buddy.”

“So you guys were Sarah’s fosters?” asked Jensen towards the end of dinner, all three kids passed out asleep in the stroller or on the bench besides you while you picked at your shared dessert. Neither George or Taylor had said much aside from introducing themselves. 

“Guys,” said Ray, nudging Taylor. “I’m sorry for our children’s rudeness. I was afraid of this.”

“Shut up,” they both said, Sarah sighing.

“The kids were both big fans of Supernatural. They grew up watching it with me. It was something we bonded over at first in fact,” she said. 

“Oh,” said Jensen, a smirk forming on his face. “Sam or Dean girls? George come on buddy, it’s okay.”

“This isn’t happening,” said Taylor, her eyes squeezed shut.

“So you guys don’t want to hear about the movie, gotcha,” he said, both of them snapping their heads up.

“He really is a dork,” you said. 

“Movie?” asked George.

“Someday. You can count on it,” said Jensen. “Maybe I’ll go easy on you guys and ask what mom was?”

“You boys are a little young for my tastes but honestly the guy who played John was very attractive,” she said.

“Even I’d hit that,” said Ray, Sarah laughing to herself.

“You can see Ray wins his ladies over with his charm,” you said, glancing at Taylor and George. “Like you guys could literally ask anything you ever wanted about the show and get an unfiltered answer if you want.”

“Did you really keep the car?” asked George. Jensen nodded and held up his finger.

“When we’re back in town, you guys come over and you can take a spin in it,” he said.

“Okay, he’s cool with me,” said George. You cocked your head and he smiled. “That was the car from the show I always told you about.”

“Oh. I thought you were talking about batman or something,” you said, pursing your lips. “Sorry I wasn’t…”

“You always sucked at pretending to be happy,” said Taylor. You looked down and nodded. “We get it. You had to do your own thing.”

“Don’t hate me for leaving?”

“Maybe when we were little,” she said. “But we’re older and we get that you probably felt like a fifth wheel.”

“Yeah. A lot really,” you said. “It worked out though.”

“She’s a Dean girl by the way,” said Ray, cracking up as Taylor whacked his arm.

“Dad! Oh my God no I’m not! I like Sam!” she said.

“Want to talk to him?” grinned Jensen. Her face went red and you heard a quiet chuckle at the table. “You’re right, we’ll save that for in person.”

“You basically are marrying Dean Winchester without like, the trauma,” she said. Jensen tensed up but kept a smile on his face. You knew Ray caught it when he gave him a simple nod.

“Trauma’s not inherently bad,” said Ray. “Everyone at this table has gone through some.”

“I know, dad,” she said quietly. She looked at George and he nodded. “Our parents were in a house fire. So were we. I was five and Georgie was four.”

“She carried him out and went next door for help,” you said.

“I was in a car accident last year,” said Jensen. You turned your head. It wasn’t public knowledge that he was in the car. He’d flat out told you that aside from family and a few friends, no one besides you knew. “I almost died. My wife did but for other reasons. You can still have trauma and a really good life.”

“Very good point, Jensen,” said Ray. “You two rugrats wouldn’t be around if mom and I had moped around in our misery forever.”

“Was he always such a sap?” asked George.

“From the day I met him,” you said, Jensen grabbing your hand under the table. “Would you mind watching the kids for a second?”

“Not at all,” he said. You excused yourself and brought Jensen along with you, walking out to the beach area, the breeze cool but light.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. I can talk about it now. I went from having the worst year of my life to one of the best. Nothing bad’s gonna happen for saying what really happened. I want to let all that shit go and have the rest of that really good life I was talking about.”

“For someone who keeps a lot inside I sure have noticed a difference in you the past few weeks.”

“To quote both of the loves of my life, I gotta let that shit out more regularly,” he said. You smiled and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, giving him a kiss. 

“You know that’s what we call growth, babe.”

“I very easily could have gone the opposite way this year.”

“But you didn’t, cause you tried even though it sucks sometimes. I love you but I extra love happy you and you’re definitely a happier guy now than when I met you.”

“So are you, honey,” he said. “Must make a pretty good team or something.”

“Oh yeah, maybe that’s it.”

“We should honestly get like, married or something, you know?” he teased.

“First I have to know though, are you willing to do cookie cake for a wedding cake?”

“I’m willing to make that sacrifice,” he said. “The real questions is, are you willing to deal with the eventual dad bod that will happen as a result?”

“I love this bod, but I don’t love you for this bod,” you said. 

“Thank you for today,” he said softly. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said. He grinned and kissed your cheek, hugging you tightly. “What are best friends for?”

“Everything?”

“Hell yeah they are Ackles.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 15 here!

[weighty-ghosts]

‘Vanishing Spells (or: How Sirius Inadvertently Outed Their Relationship)’

Vanishing Spells (or: How Sirius Inadvertently Outed Their Relationship), by weightyghosts

“James thinks he’s sneaky, Lily knows exactly how to push Sirius’ buttons, Sirius is a tad overprotective, Remus is exasperated with them all, and Peter is definitely sleeping in the common room tonight.”

Rating: teen

Word count: 2918

Pairing: Remus x Sirius

Published: December 16, 2020

Warnings: None

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/28080297

   It’s a frosty December night and the boys are in the Gryffindor common room, still sitting by the fireplace from when they had come in to warm up after a snowball fight with the Slytherins.

Well, it wasn’t so much a fight as a sneak attack that involved the Gryffindors hiding behind Greenhouse Two and pummeling those green-clad gits with exploding snowballs... But the Marauders still considered it a battle won in the war against their enemies.

James and Peter are occupying the couch, finishing their Transfiguration homework (really it’s just James writing and Peter peeking over his shoulder), and Remus and Sirius are in the plush crimson wing chairs that flank the couch.

Remus is engrossed in a book Dumbledore gave him on Non-Being Spirituous Apparitions, and Sirius is sitting sideways with his legs dangling over the arm of the chair, drawing idly on the back of his completed essay, and tapping his foot to an unheard beat (much to James’ annoyance).

Sirius is also trying very hard to stop himself from staring at Remus, but he can’t seem to help his eyes wandering over every few minutes to watch the way the firelight brings out the auburn and gold in the werewolf’s hair, the ends a bit curled from the wet snow outside.

Remus glances up at him but looks away quickly, a light blush spreading up his neck. Sirius bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, going back to his doodling. This thing between them is still new and exciting, and most importantly: a secret.

A few quiet minutes later, James puts his quill down and stretches his arms over his head, letting out an exaggerated grumbling noise, a habit that Remus finds slightly irritating.

“Hey, Padfoot?” James asks in an offhanded way.

“Mmh?” Sirius murmurs, not bothering to look up from his sketch of a dragon breathing fire on a figure that looks suspiciously like Severus Snape.

“How’s your boyfriend?” James asks casually.

“He’s-“ Sirius glances at Remus automatically, then freezes when he meets amber eyes that are wide with a silent warning.

Sirius’ eyes flick back at James, whose entire face is screaming, “Ha! Got yah.”

“Wait, what? I don’t have a boyfriend!”

“Oh, no?” James arches an eyebrow in disbelief.

Peter puts his unfinished homework down and settles back on the couch to watch the evening’s entertainment.

“No! I think I would tell you if I had a boyfriend.”

“You don’t need to tell me, because I already know.”

Sirius drops his quill in his lap and folds his hands together, eerily similar to how Professor McGonagall does when she knows she’s about to hear a tall tale.

“What is it you think you know?” he asks in a patient tone.

“I know for a fact that you and Remus are seeing each other,” James replies.

“James!” Exclaims Peter, like he’s scolding him for outing an unspoken secret. Which he is.

But Sirius has his wits about him now, and keeps a carefully composed face, lips pulled up in a small smile.

“What makes you say that, Potter?” Sirius asks, adding a little bite to James’ name.

“Well, Black, ” says James, returning the bite in kind, “maybe you’ve forgotten but,” he lowers his voice a little and leans in closer to his friend, “we have a map of the school that shows where everyone is at any given time?”

Remus has to admire how Sirius is able to keep any emotion from showing on his face at this information, like he didn’t even hear it. It’s truly impressive. But he also seems unable to reply, so Remus steps in.

“It’s not a big deal, James, I’ve just been helping Sirius-”

“Yeah I’ll bet you have, Moony,” James says suggestively, with a cheeky grin.

Remus blushes and returns to his book so he can pretend to focus on something else.

“Hey!” Sirius interjects, but immediately regrets showing his obvious dislike of what James was implying when James turns back to him looking rather smug. He continues, more calmly, “I didn’t want to tell you and Pete...but I’ve been having trouble with vanishing spells, so Remus has been helping me practice.”

“Bollocks!” James refutes, “You’ve always been good at charms.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you! It’s embarrassing.”

“That explains it then, Prongs,” Peter says, trying to placate them.

“Thank you, Peter,” Sirius says, and tips an invisible hat to the blond boy.

“Oh come off it!” James jumps back in.

“Come off what?” Sirius asks, his voice rising with indignation. Of course James is right but he’ll be damned if he lets the prat be aware of it. “You think because you saw us together on the map once or twice-“

“Seven times.”

“S-seven times,” Sirius stutters but pushes on, “that we’re suddenly shagging behind your backs?”

“Yes.”

“That’s complete and utter-”

“But it’s not just the map,” James says, straightening up into a more formal position as if he’s about to recite a speech he’s been working on for a long time, and when Sirius sees Peter roll his eyes, he’s fairly sure James has practiced it on him.

“Something has been going on for weeks,” James continues, “You’ve been sneaky and quiet and acting all cute with each other, and going off on your own places,” James turns to Remus now, “and I know Sirius was in your bed at least once because I saw him sneaking back to his own one morning, and we’ve been friends for over five years so if you think I don’t know you two well enough to know when you’re happy and when you’re hiding something, you’re absolute bloody imbeciles.”

Remus and Sirius are quiet for a moment as that sinks in, then open their mouths to speak at the same time.

“What do you mean acting, ‘all cute-’” Sirius asks.

“Sirius was in my bed because I had a nightmare,” Remus states, shooting Sirius a look, “He was just checking if I was alright.”

This makes James pause, chewing on his lip. He knows that it isn’t uncommon for Remus and Sirius to turn to each other when they have nightmares, it had definitely happened before, but he was so sure this had been different. He has a harder time accusing Remus of lying, though, so he decides to address Sirius.

“When I said you’ve been acting all cute with each other, I meant that you’re all affectionate and stuff! And Padfoot,” James looks around the somewhat-busy common room to see if anyone is listening, but they aren’t so he continues, “has been very protective over Moony, lately.”

“That’s true,” Peter says thoughtfully, tapping a finger to his chin as he thinks back to the last couple of full moons.

Remus looks surprised at that and glances at Sirius with questions in his eyes.

“I’ve always been affectionate and protective with him,” Sirius says calmly, but his cheeks are slightly pink and can’t seem to meet Remus’ gaze, “It’s just the way we are.”

“This is different,” James says.

“Nope. You’re wrong,” Sirius says, picking up his quill and going back to doodling as if the matter is closed, “Utterly wrong.”

James crosses his arms petulantly, the frustrated frown on his face displaying how annoyed he is that his friends won’t just tell the truth.

“It’s true, James,” Remus asserts, “There’s nothing going on.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s hairy left b-”

“What’s that, Potter?”

Lily Evans had appeared in the common room as if by apparition, and stood by Sirius’ chair with a bemused expression on her face.

“Er, h-hey Lily,” James stammers as a blush creeps up his neck to the tips of his ears. Sirius rolls his eyes at the way James completely falls apart when this girl they’ve known since she was a tiny, obnoxious Firstie shows up.

The fact that Remus makes Sirius’ brain and insides melt with merely a look is a completely different cauldron of kelpies.

“What are you talking about that’s gotten you so riled up?” She asks with a smile, always enjoying a rattled James Potter, and crosses in front of the fireplace to sit on the arm of Remus’ chair.

She puts a hand on Remus’ shoulder and they smile at each other. Although, Remus’ is a little forced, as he doesn’t particularly want Lily involved in this conversation. They’ve grown to be close friends since becoming prefects last year, and she knows him too well. He’s fairly certain she’s already figured out about him and Sirius.

Remus looks over at Sirius and is surprised at the hostility in his face. He seems to be glaring at Lily, or more specifically, her hand resting on Remus.

Remus sighs loudly, forcing down the urge to roll his eyes, and Sirius’ mouth twitches.

He loves how easily exasperated his boyfriend gets with him.

“I was trying to get these two wankers to admit that they’re seeing each other!” James replies to her.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Lily says matter-of-factly. They all glance at her in surprise (the boys in question looking away quickly so as not to seem too interested, of course).

“What? But you said-” James starts.

“No,” Lily interrupts, “They’re definitely not together.”

Sirius bites his tongue to keep from asking, “Why the hell are you so damn sure?”  

“What makes you say that?” Peter asks, and Sirius reminds himself to be extra nice to Peter tomorrow. Or to at least try to.

“I just don’t think Remus is Black’s type at all, you know? He’s not...” Lily trails off, searching for the right word, “He’s just not really…”

“Not really what?” Sirius demands, forgetting the façade as anger bubbles in him. How dare she imply that Remus isn’t anything?

“Look, as much as I love Remus,” who she throws a pitying look to, and Remus braces for what she’s about to say next, “He’s a...you know... and I just don’t think he’s good enough for you.”

Remus closes his eyes and chuckles, but the sound is drowned out by the explosion that erupts from Sirius.

“WHAT?”  

He’s on his feet, paper and quill knocked to the floor, as conversation in the common room halts and all eyes lock on him.

“Remus John Lupin is the absolute best, most brilliant person in this entire sodding school, you witless wench!”  Sirius bellows, pointing an accusing finger at her while ignoring James’ gasp at how Lily is being spoken to, “And he happens to be exactly my type! Everything about him is my type! He’s beautiful and smart and sexy and funny, and a bloody good kisser, and he makes me very happy, and- and…”

He starts losing steam when he sees the extremely-pleased-with-herself smirk on Lily’s face. His eyes flick to James who goes from looking indignant to surprised to ecstatic at Sirius’ soppy declaration, to Peter who is just dumb-founded, and finally to Remus.

Remus is half covering his bright red face with his hand, attempting to disappear into the fabric of the chair. Sirius hears him laugh softly, though, and his anger is immediately quashed.

“Thanks so much for that, Lily,” Remus says sarcastically.

“You’re welcome,” she says cheerily, planting a kiss on Remus’ forehead. Sirius crosses his arms and frowns. “So predictable, Black,” she continues, shaking her head at him.

“Am not,” he denies, then has the decency to look abashed when adding, “But, you know, you should apologize to Remus for what you said.”

“Oh please, Rem knows I think he’s too good for you. I’ve told him many times.”

“You what?” Sirius looks accusingly at the werewolf.

“I thought she was joking?” Remus replies lamely.

“Lily Evans, you are an absolute genius,” James says, gazing up at her with glazed, adoring eyes. He looks about ready to swoon.

“And you, James Potter, are an absolute moron,” she says simply, “They’ve been hiding this for weeks, and you think they would just come out and say it if you confronted them with it? I told you it wouldn't work. Honestly, you know them better than that,” she adds with a tone like a disappointed school teacher. James could point out that he initially tried to catch Sirius off guard, but he doesn’t seem to want to contradict her. In fact, he seems rather enthralled by her chastising.

“Wait...weeks?” Peter asks in a small voice, looking as lost as he does in Potions.

Lily nods with a smile, rubbing Remus’ shoulder.

Sirius clears his throat and walks over to Remus, figuring he should apologize for blowing their secret, but mostly so he can get Lily away from his sexy boyfriend. He shoos her with a wave of his hands, and she gets up, tossing her hair at him before going to sit in the chair he just vacated.

“Sooorrrry, Mooony,” he croons, then takes the book from Remus’ hand so he can sit down in his lap. Remus’ eyes flash around the room at all the people watching them amusedly, but he rationalizes that there’s no way he could get any more embarrassed than he already is, so settles on sighing and shaking his head.

“You really can be thick sometimes, Sirius Black,” he says teasingly, loosely wrapping his arms around Sirius’ waist.

“Only sometimes,” Sirius says, then his face lights up like he just realized something, “Silver lining, though, Lupin, I can do this now.”

He cups Remus’ cheek, tilting his head up as he leans in and presses their lips together. There are a few cheers and whistles from the other Gryffindors, and Sirius chuckles into Remus’ mouth. Peter and James, however, are busy groaning and dramatically covering their eyes as if they’re witnessing Filch undress.

“Eugh, I don’t want to see that!” James whines.

Sirius pulls away to glare at them, and Remus blushes even more furiously, shooting apologetic looks at their friends. Apparently he could get more embarrassed.

“You wanted to know, James!” Sirius asserts, “You insisted, in fact. Now you have to suffer the consequences.” He turns back to Remus and to pull him in for another kiss.

“Please get a room!” Peter complains.

Sirius detaches their lips again and looks thoughtfully at the blond boy.

“Good idea, Pete,” he grins, “Come along then, my love.”

Remus is sure his face must be about to burst into flames, but he lets Sirius pull him to his feet anyway.

“Oh no,” Peter says, eyes wide, “That’s not what I meant! Please don’t-”

“Don’t worry, mate, we’re only off to work on our vanishing spells,” Sirius replies wickedly, clapping Peter on the shoulder as he drags Remus towards the staircase to the boy’s dorms.

Lily laughs, and Peter looks back at James, who narrows his eyes and crosses his arms.

“Good show, Pettigrew,” he snaps, “Now we can’t go upstairs...bloody ever.”

Lily rolls her eyes at them and gets up from her seat.

“It’s not like they’re going to do anything they haven’t already done in there,” she says, and grins at the horrified looks on the boys’ faces.

Sirius yanks open the door to their room and tugs Remus inside. Remus goes over to sit on the edge of his bed, quirking an eyebrow as Sirius locks the door with his wand. Sirius turns and walks over to him with a sheepish smile playing on his lips.

“Vanishing spells?” Remus asks, his voice full of poorly-suppressed humour as he looks up at Sirius and opens his knees for Sirius to stand between them.

“An excellent cover-up!” Sirius replies, placing his hands on Remus’ shoulders.

“You panicked.”

“I might have panicked.”

Sirius smiles as Remus laughs at him, his favourite sound in the world. “I didn’t like how Lily-”

“The witless wench?”

“The witless wench- was talking about you.”

“I appreciate you defending me,” Remus says with genuine affection in his voice, then slides his hands slowly up Sirius’ thighs, “It was rather sexy.”

Sirius bites his lip, enjoying where this seems to be going. “You know what, Moony?”

“What, Padfoot?”

“I wouldn’t mind practising a vanishing spell on your trousers right about now.”

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and Remus falls back onto the bed with a groan, throwing an arm over his face.

“What a line,” he grumbles, but Sirius can tell he’s laughing.

Sirius climbs onto the bed, straddling Remus with one knee on either side of his hips.

“Did it work?” He asks, pulling the other boy’s arm down so he can look into his eyes.

“Absolutely not.”

Sirius frowns. “Is the spark gone now that everyone knows?”

“Yes. It’s completely gone. I was only with you because of the sneaking around.”

“Git,” Sirius says, poking Remus in the ribs, “I’m going to make you pay for that.”

“Oh yeah?” Remus’s eyes light up with mischief, “How?”

“Take your trousers off and you’ll find out.”

“Take them off for me.”

“Can’t. We never actually practiced the spell.”

Remus growls and pulls Sirius’ head down to kiss him hard, effectively ending the banter.

*

Half an hour later, James and Peter are standing on the other side of the closed door, trying to discern if it’s safe or not to go inside. When they hear whispering and a muffled moan, James turns to Peter and glares at him, lightly smacking the back of his head. They begrudgingly stomp back down to the common room to settle on the couch, for what will no doubt be a long night of homework.

*

[naralanis]

little bumps in the road (pt. 20)

PART TWENTY OH MY GOD YOU GUYS WE’RE NEARING THE END

Ahem. Previously on LBitR...

The next time Lena wakes, it’s to the weirdly familiar yet inconceivable exasperating sound of loud, obnoxious slurping.

Before she can even begin to blink the bleariness out of her eyes, the sound assaults her ears again—it is so visceral it disconnects her from the space she’s occupying (namely, the bed on a DEO medbay somewhere) and transports her somewhere else, far, far away, to a diner in the middle of nowhere. With Kara.

The slurping resumes and she sits up like a shot, fast enough to make herself dizzy. She’s still in handcuffs, and her sudden movement makes them rattle noisily against the railing of her bed, cutting her movement short abruptly and making her bounce back into her pillows.

“Kara?”

The name leaves her lips before her brain can fully catch up with the improbability of that logic, though it arrives at that conclusion moments later, when Lena’s eyes adjust and see Nia’s quirked eyebrow eyeing her back curiously as she sips from a plastic to-go cup.

“Nope,” Nia quips after another unnecessarily loud slurp. “Just little ol’ me. Here,” she extends a hand to Lena, who takes the second to-go cup the young woman offers without even thinking. “It’s kale. Your favourite—for reasons unknown to mankind.”

Lena takes a tentative sip—she has to lean forward, a little clumsily and awkwardly, since the handcuffs don’t allow her to bring the cup closer to her face.

Nia pulls a face at Lena’s second, much less tentative sip. The smoothie tastes amazing, and it makes her release a happy little hum before she can catch herself, and Nia’s offended grimace reminds her so much of Kara. It’s weird, but a happy kind of weird, and Lena knows it’s probably the last reprieve they’ll get before shit well and truly hits the fan. So, she’ll take it—the reprieve and the smoothie.

Nia watches her down half of her cup in a matter of seconds with an expression close to abject horror. “Gross,” she mutters, then slurps again at her own smoothie, a purple concoction that admittedly looks quite good.

“Don’t judge me,” Lena says, amused and smacking her lips with delight. “I’ve been eating nothing but fast food for weeks. I can’t remember the last time I even saw a vegetable.”

Nia laughs. “No judgement, I have nothing against vegetables. I love salad. I just don’t blend it.”

“Well, thank you for my blended salad,” Lena drawls with a waggle of her brows. “I—and my arteries—deeply appreciate it.”

“You and your arteries are welcome,” Nia says, pulling out the rickety metal chair by Lena’s bedside and plopping down rather ungracefully. “I thought I’d keep you company for a little while, if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Lena begins, but there’s something off about Nia’s tone—a slight warble of worry that Lena only spots because the young superhero won’t meet her eyes.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your lovely company,” she starts again, fiddling with the straw of her drink. “But… there’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

“There’s a ton of stuff I’m not telling you,” Nia replies easily, though her eyes are darting around everywhere in the room, except to Lena, in clear discomfort. “I’m a woman of mystery.”

Lena taps her nails against the plastic of her cup, squeezes it slightly, jostling the ice and making the plastic bend and creak as she scrutinizes Nia’s face. The young woman’s playfulness has all but vanished, and there’s a tension in the air that wasn’t there before, and it worries Lena.

“You’re here to keep an eye on me…” she starts with the obvious, watching for the most minute changes in Nia’s expression to indicate whether she was in the right path. “… because of Lex—no, that’s too easy; everything is because of Lex.”

There’s a slight sag to Nia’s shoulder’s, a microscopic shift to her brows, and they tell Lena what she wants to hear without words. “Because of Kara,” she breathes, and the way Nia chokes on her smoothie all but confirms it, and Lena immediately snaps into panic mode.

“Oh my god,” she gasps. “You heard something—you know something,” she says, free hand clenching around the flimsy sheets of her bed. It’s not a question, and Lena doesn’t phrase it as one, but the guilty look on Nia’s face answers it perfectly either way. “Is she here? Is she on her way?! Nia, you can’t let her come, we have to stop her! It’s a trap! She cannot come!”

“I know, I know, Lena,” Nia says, forcing a bit of calm that is not naturally occurring in her tone at the moment. “Please calm down; Kara is not in National City,” she grimaces. “At least not yet.”

“Then where is she?” Lena asks, voice wavering in a way she doesn’t even attempt to control. “She absolutely cannot come here.”

“I know,” Nia sighs. “We know. She was spotted by one of Lex’s satellites in Mexico.”

“Mexico…” Lena murmurs, mostly to herself. “For some sun, probably. Is she alright?”

“I would assume so; she was a literal blip on the radar, almost too fast to be picked up at all.”

Lena breathes a deep sigh of relief, sinking into the miserable pile of crappy pillows at her back. “Good,” she says, closing her eyes, already trying to map out the next steps from here. “Good, that means we still have some time.”

Nia quirks a brow in question. “Time? Time for what?”

Lena looks at the young woman like she’s gone insane. “Time to foil whatever Lex is planning to do next,” she explains as if Nia is missing something painfully obvious, because isn’t it? Painfully obvious? Does Nia just expect her to sit tight, handcuffed to this bed, while Lex continues with whatever lunacy he has in store for Kara?

“Brainy said the implant can’t be removed or disabled from a distance, but I was the one who created the system they run on. If I could somehow sneak into the mainframe, maybe I could—”

“Woah, woah, woah, let me stop you right there, Lena,” Nia interrupts, looking panicked. “Hold your damn horses—you are not going anywhere except another, more secure facility. You’re not stepping foot in LuthorCorp—no way.”

“Nia,” Lena hisses, vaguely aware she’s close to sounding like a petulant child, but not even remotely close to caring. “I have to—I’m the only one besides Lex himself who stands a chance in hell of disabling those systems.”

“No way, Lena. No. It’s too risky.” Nia says with an air of finality.

Of course it’s risky. Lena’s not blind to that simple fact—never has been. But the other simple fact is that any world with Lex Luthor in it presents more risk than anyone would be willing to accept.

“What’s the alternative, then? Keep me here, handcuffed, while Kara swoops in for a rigged death match against my brother??”

Nia flinches, and that tells Lena everything she doesn’t want to hear.

“Oh my god, you are,” she practically yelps, watching Nia shrink into herself at her outburst. “You can’t just keep me here! I could help, I could—I have to help—”

“I can, and I will!” Nia suddenly shouts, standing up so abruptly she sends her chair screeching backwards across the floor. “Don’t you understand, Lena? Lex wants to use you and Kara against each other. Every time I close my eyes, I see my friends—my friends, Lena, which includes you, you asshat! I see you two killing one another, over and over again! It’s already happened once, and I cannot let it happen again!”

Nia’s shoulders are shaking—her smoothie dropped and now leaking all over the floor. Lena can see the tears threatening to spill from her eyes; her fists are clenched and trembling at her sides, and all Lena wants to do is reach out and hold the young woman’s hands in her own, to tell her everything will be OK.

But can’t make those assurances; they both know it.

Nia releases a breath—it comes out as a sad little laugh. “You won’t be… you know, you won’t be handcuffed,” she says, as if the restraints were the whole point. “You’ll be at another facility, out of Lex’s reach until this is all over.”

Lena shakes her head, but she doesn’t have the heart to tell Nia that it’s useless. There’s no place Lex can’t reach. “What about Alex?” she asks instead. “She’s got an implant too.”

“Alex will go to the secure facility with you. She volunteered—she doesn’t want Lex to use her to hurt Kara either.” Nia sighs, finally looking Lena in the eye, though she looks defeated. “Lena, I know this isn’t ideal. But we’re running out of time, and we’re running out of options. It’s the best we can do.”

Lena doesn’t voice her disagreement—her gaze makes it clear enough that Nia sighs again, sinking back into her chair with a frown.

The silence is tense; Nia is not looking at her. Lena runs through all the possible arguments she thinks of in her head, before deciding they are all moot. The decision has clearly been made.

But Lena is stubborn. To a fault, really.

“Nia,” she whispers, waiting for the young woman to raise her head to look her way. “Why did you take me to Kara? When she was on the run?”

Nia shrugs. “I had a vision of you two—Kara was wearing her suit, but she had short hair.”

“And what happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Nia admits, biting at her lip nervously. “I’m still trying to decipher it. But I knew—with or without the vision, I just knew you wouldn’t… kill her. I knew you two had to be together for any of this to work.”

Lena takes a deep, deep breath—she’ll analyse whatever Nia’s trying to convey later, but now she has to grasp at the only out she has.

“Together you said,” she repeats, voice breaking. “Then you’ve got to let me help her.”

<< Previous || Next >>

[heyitssmiller]

Frosted Windowpanes Part Two

I have no idea why this was so hard to write? Part one just came so easily and this... not so much. But here it is! All the holiday tropes! Christmas puns (thank you to all of y’all who gave me ideas for those)! Falling in love!

As always, @donttouchmycarrots is my hero for proofreading!! Love you <3

@lumosinlove Guess who’s back to borrow your characters ;) Thank you so much!!

Part One if you missed it!

.

Finn had a Plan.

Well, half a Plan.

Maybe.

Step one: meet up with Logan and Leo again. Step two: woo them. Step three: …

Well, it wasn’t much. And it was very vague. But Finn’s plans tended to never go the way he wanted them to anyway, so vague was usually for the best. And so far, it had been going well. They’d grabbed dinner several times, ran into each other at the store or buying Christmas presents downtown. And on Monday the diner was closed, so Finn and Leo spent hours at the farm helping where they could and pestering Logan. He was so fun to tease – he got all gruff and grumpy and adorable. Leo seemed to think so, too, if the number of times he teamed up with Finn to make Logan get all red was anything to go off of.

At the beginning of all this, Finn had thought he’d been overdramatic. He’d woken up the morning after first meeting Logan and Leo and assumed he’d been tired and jet-lagged and was imagining all those feelings he’d felt the night before.

And then he’d met up with them again.

Love at first sight wasn’t real. Finn knew this. But being here, meeting Logan and Leo, just might have been enough to change his mind. It made no sense, but – well, here he was. The past few days were happy, rose-tinted, and Finn couldn’t believe his luck. What were the odds that he’d find both of them in this sleepy little town?

So here he was, pulling into the parking lot of Leo’s for a cup of coffee and a healthy serving of sweet southern blond.

Leo was out front, shoveling snow and looking absolutely miserable while doing it. He was bundled in a thick coat and hat, scarf wrapped high around his neck. Finn laughed under his breath as he turned his car off and braved the cold. Poor southern boy. Leo glanced up at him briefly when he approached, then did a double take.

“Morning, sunshine.” Finn said with a cheeky grin. “Enjoying the snow day?”

Leo’s resulting grumpy look made Finn laugh. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Nate called and said he can’t make it to work today because the roads are so bad.” Leo took a deep breath, and then the rest of his words came out in a jumbled, rushed mess. “Which isn’t his fault and I’m not blaming him at all. But I haven’t started cooking and we open in thirty minutes and there’s no coffee brewing and nowhere for people to park because of this goddamn snow and so I’m stuck shoveling snow instead of cooking and I’m so far behind-”

Finn gently pressed a finger to Leo’s lips, halting the nervous ramblings. Leo looked down at his finger, then back up to meet Finn’s eyes.

Oh, he was so gorgeous.

Finn had to force himself to focus on the matter at hand instead of cherry-red lips and soft baby blues. “Relax, ok? And hand me the shovel. I’ll do this, while you get on inside and start cooking.”

“But – Finn,” Leo said, and wow did he love the sound of his voice in that southern twang.

“Leo,” He echoed with an attempted accent, eliciting a smile from the blond.

“I can’t just ask you to work. You’re on vacation.”

“First of all, you didn’t ask – I offered. And the friends I’m visiting are both at work,” Finn explained, “so I’ve been left to my own devices for the day.”

Leo winced in sympathy. “Bless your heart.”

And see, Finn had done his research. He’d googled New Orleans, the state of Louisiana, and the south in general. And he’d learned that southerners were very confusing – more confusing than people gave them credit for. They were polite and kind to everyone, even if they definitely didn’t mean it. The phrase “bless your heart” could mean they either absolutely adored you or they thought you were the worst person on the planet.

Finn really hoped it wasn’t the latter. He didn’t think it was the latter, anyways.

“I’m literally dying of boredom. I’ll shovel the snow, and then I can come help you cook!” At Leo’s skeptical look, Finn brought out the big guns: his puppy dog eyes. They were known to melt even the hardest of hearts. He’d learned this lesson in college when asking his Grinch of an Ethics professor for some extra credit. “Please?”

Leo hesitated, but Finn could see the exact moment he caved. “Alright. But you’re getting paid.”

“Absolutely not. Consider it a Christmas gift.”

“I’ll pay you in food and coffee.”

“Deal.” Finn said, grabbing the shovel from Leo’s mittened hands. “Like I could ever say no to your food.”

Leo’ smile, warm and a little bashful, probably could’ve thawed the snow on the pavement if it was directed that way. “What would you like: sweet or savory?”

“Sweet,” Finn said instantly, even though he really preferred savory. His one-track mind was still stuck on dimples. “But I take my coffee black.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Finn watched him go, knowing that he had the dopiest smile on his face. Today was going to be a good day. And he knew a way to make it even better.

Finn dialed the number for Tremblay’s Trees, hoping more than anything that Logan would be the one to pick up. But of course he wasn’t that lucky. A bright, cheery voice answered the phone - definitely not Logan. “Tremblay’s Trees!0 This is Thomas, how can I help you?”

“Uh,” Finn said articulately, “Hi, I’d like to talk to Logan. Is he there?”

There was a slight pause, then: “Maybe. Who’s asking? And how do you know our dear Lolo?” The voice sounded curious, if not a little mischievous. Before Finn could answer, though, there was a scuffling over the line.

“Talker, give me the phone.”

“Oh, come on, I’ve got the five o’clock news slot tonight. Give the people what they want, Logan! Who’s your mystery caller?”

“I swear to god-”

The scuffling sound got louder, then there was a loud clatter when Finn assumed the phone hit the ground. He jerked his own phone away from his ear with a wince. “I am very confused.” He stated, not sure if anyone else heard him.

There was a small, softer rustle, then a breathless voice asked, “Hello?”

Finn couldn’t help but smile. “Hi, Lolo.”

That laugh was just as wonderful over the phone as it was in person. “Please don’t call me that.”

“Mmm… I might need to be convinced.” Finn said, letting some flirtiness slip through. “Anyways, I’ve got an idea. You busy today?”

“I’ve got the morning off. Why, what did you have in mind?”

So Finn, with the phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, told the story of this morning as he shoveled – Nate not being able to make it to his shift, the ice and snow in Leo’s parking lot, Leo being behind on cooking and acting anxious. “So I was thinking we could do something? Like a surprise? And I know you guys need to actually sell things and make a living and stuff but I was thinking about decorating the diner? He just works so hard and he’s so stressed and I feel like he could use a little holiday cheer. What do you think?”

The other voice from earlier must have shouted, because he was loud enough to hear over the phone. “Phone guy! What the hell did you say to make him melt like that?”

Logan punched Talker in the shoulder. Hard. “I will lock you in the closet, Talker. Shut. Up.” His attention was brought back to the phone by Finn’s laugh and his demeanor softened again. He’d never met someone as chaotically considerate as Finn O’Hara. It was such a sweet, thoughtful idea. And it was something to help out Leo? How could Logan say no?

“Sounds like a plan.” Logan said, cradling the phone closer to his ear. “Most people already have their decorations so we don’t have a whole lot left, but I’ll see what I can find.”

“Perfect! Oh this is going to be so fun – fuck, I’ve gotta go. Customers just showed up. But I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Great. Ok see you soon bye!” The words reached Logan in a rush before the line went dead.

What a dork.

Logan was pretty sure he was half in love with him.

“So…” Talker said suddenly, making Logan spin around quickly. “Who are you pining over?”

Noelle, who had been passing by on her way to the kitchen, backpedaled in order to join the conversation. “Are we talking about Logan’s love life? Because I’m so here for that.”

Logan sighed and went to the coat rack by the door, grabbing his coat, toque, and scarf. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

They both promptly ignored him. Talker grinned at his fiancée, sensing trouble he could get into. “He’s become such a sap.”

Noelle snuggled up to Talker, turning her teasing gaze to her brother. “But if it’s who I’m thinking of, they have such good chemis-tree.”

“Did you guys practice this or something?”

“Hey man, don’t be so defensive.” Talker said, voice turning serious. “You know we’re all rooting for you.”

“I hate you both so much.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Lolo.” Noelle sighed, giving him an over-the-top hug and obnoxious kisses to his cheek. “We’re just having some fun. Do you want us to stop needling you?”

“I’m having fun fir sure!” Talker shouted, then burst into raucous laughter, which stopped as abruptly as it started. “Wait. That wasn’t Leo on the phone. You've got eyes for someone other than him, now? Branching out a little, are we?"

“No.” Logan said instantly, then winced. Because his feelings for Leo definitely hadn’t changed. But then there was Finn… “Maybe. It’s complicated, ok?”

“The redhead that was hanging out with you and Leo on Monday?”

Logan felt his cheeks heat up but didn’t say anything. Monday had been the best, though. Showing the two of them the farm and how he did his job and watching their noses and cheeks turn adorable shades of pink from the cold. Even though he’d been there for a year, Leo still seemed in awe of all the snow. He clearly hated it, but Logan could tell he still found wonder and beauty in a clean blanket of undisturbed, freshly-fallen snow. Finn, even though he was clearly freezing too, kept cracking jokes the entire time, his voice muffled by his scarf. They’d walked and talked and learned more about each other among the saplings that would be full-grown and ready to be cut down by next season.

Yeah, Monday had been a great day.

And Logan was so screwed.

“Birch, please.” Noelle teased, then softened. “But really, Logan. Both of them were just as interested in you as they were in each other. You’ve got nothing to worry about, you just need to talk to them.”

He looked up from the buttons of his coat. “You think so?”

“Only one way to find out. What are you doing with them today?”

“We’re decorating the diner.” Logan pulled his hat on and looked over at his sister. “Do you think dad’ll be ok with me taking some garland and a wreath?”

Noelle scoffed. “With all the coffee and pastries you boy’s given us, I think he’s more than paid for it. Do you want company?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on,” Talker said, wiggling his eyebrows. “We’d make the perfect wingmen.”

“You did enough while I was on the phone, thanks.” Logan said, grabbing the keys from the counter. “Ok I’m headed out. See you later.”

Talker and Noelle sent a chorus of boos after him, only stopping when the door closed firmly behind him. He huffed out a laugh, shook his head, and headed towards the display counter to grab decorations. They were a little old since it was so close to Christmas day, but they’d have to do. Logan hesitated for a split second, then grabbed the Santa hat as well. They’d get a kick out of that. He threw the decorations in the back of the truck and took off down the road.

.

They actually worked really well together – Leo and Finn, that is. Finn dealt with customers while Leo made the food. They had a complex, intricate dance around the close quarters of the diner but they seemed to know the footwork already and could predict exactly what the other needed without blinking an eye. Leo peered out the kitchen window at Finn as he took orders at another table, laughing at something one of the women said. He was good at this. He was naturally outgoing and good with people, but he was also efficient and seemed to be able to keep track of twenty different things at once.

Leo frowned thoughtfully down at the grits on the stove. Logically, he shouldn’t like Finn. The redhead had appeared like a whirlwind and thrown everything off course. But then he went out of his way to be helpful and sweet and thoughtful even though it didn’t benefit him in any way. He had a big heart with a lot of love to give. And he gave it willingly to everyone, it seemed.

Don’t get him wrong, that was a good thing – it was a great thing. But it also made the past few days incredibly confusing. Was Finn treating Leo like everyone else, or did he want something more?

He definitely wanted something more with Logan, though. That much was obvious.

Leo just wasn’t sure how he fit into all of this.

Finn barging into the kitchen snapped Leo out of his thoughts. He looked up as Finn started looking around for something on the counters and shelves, tongue poking out in concentration. Leo couldn’t help but smile at the little detail.

“What are you looking for?” He asked, stepping away from the stove.

“The, um…” Finn said, trailing off as he continued to search, clearly distracted. “The spicy maple sauce for the chicken and waffles.”

“In the fridge.” Leo stated plainly, maneuvering around Finn to grab flour from the pantry, brushing against his back as he did so and trying to ignore how the simple touch heightened his awareness of the redhead. Finn threw open the fridge door, scanning the shelves.

“Where?”

“Second shelf from the bottom, on the right.”

A few seconds of silence, then: “Where?”

Leo laughed, dumping a cup of flour into a bowl and heading to the fridge. He peered over Finn’s shoulder, then reached around him with one long arm to grab the bowl of sauce. “Right in front of you, sweetheart.” He teased. Finn turned around so that he was facing Leo, a look that Leo had seen a lot in the past few days but still couldn’t identify on his face.

“Yeah,” was all he said, soft and a little strangled.

Leo looked away from those deep, brown eyes and down at the sauce. His heartrate picked up significantly. “Have you tried this yet?” At Finn’s shake of his head, Leo grabbed a spoon from a nearby drawer. “Figured I’d combine my roots with where I ended up, y’know? Tabasco, black pepper, maple syrup, and a few more secret ingredients.” He said with a wink, spooning some out and holding it out to Finn. “I’m pretty proud of it, if I do say so myself. Try it.”

Instead of grabbing the spoon from Leo, Finn just leaned forwards and tasted the sauce straight from the spoon in Leo’s hand. Leo’s breath hitched and his stomach swooped as Finn straightened again and met his eyes.

Oh, he could stare into those eyes forever. Eyes the same color of the coffee Finn had slid through the kitchen window about an hour ago with the words, “figured you could use some” before dashing off to clear another table. Leo had turned beet red, but grabbed the coffee and held it close before taking a sip.

Leo also hadn’t realized how close they were. The diner was small and the kitchen was cramped, but they definitely didn’t need to be standing this close. Not that Leo was complaining.

“Is it hot in here?” Finn murmured, gaze flitting from Leo’s eyes down to his lips and back again.

Leo seemed a little lost, too, leaning closer to the redhead without even realizing he was doing it. “Must be the sauce.”

It definitely wasn’t just the sauce.

The chime that alerted them to the front door opening startled both of them, forcing them to jerk away from each other and blush furiously.

“I, uh, I’m going to go check on that.” Finn said, still not looking away from Leo as he backed up.

“Ok.” Leo whispered, reaching back to grab the island behind him in an attempt to steady himself. Finn reluctantly tore his eyes away and disappeared from sight, leaving Leo reeling in the kitchen as he entered the dining area.

Finn’s mind was still back in the kitchen, wishing more than anything that he hadn’t been forced to step away. He’d never wanted to kiss someone senseless quite as much as he did right then. And how was he supposed to keep it together when all he wanted to do was flip the diner sign from open to closed and get Logan here and finally talk to them. They’d felt this pull - this magnetism - too. He knew they did. The only thing left to do was finally talk about it. 

Finn was forced to snap back to the present when the counter was suddenly covered in green needles, red berries, and festive ribbons. He looked up to see Logan grinning at him. Under his coat he was wearing red plaid, which matched the Santa hat perched on his head.

How was it possible to want two people so much at the same time? He couldn’t breathe with all the emotions overflowing in his chest.

“Ho ho ho,” Logan attempted to say, but cracked up before he could finish. Finn grinned and laughed as well, stepping forward to greet him.

“You should’ve used the chimney.” Finn joked, tugging on the end of his hat playfully. He got a smile and sparkling green eyes in return. Finn bit back a dreamy sigh. “But really, thank you. Leo’s gonna love this.”

Logan’s face grew a little worried. “How is he?”

Ha.

Haha.

That was a good question, since Finn left him standing there in the kitchen with the spoon still in his hand, looking a little lost.

He ended up shrugging, glancing back at the kitchen door longingly. “Better now. Still seems tired.”

“We’re going to have to force him to take breaks, aren’t we.” It wasn’t a question.

“Probably. If we tag team, I think we can manage to make it happen.” Finn looked down at the decorations. “So where are we putting these?”

Logan looked around the dining area, giving Finn a perfect view of his profile. He longed to kiss that strong jawline so badly, holy shit. “We could hang some over the kitchen window and some around the front window. And the wreath can go on the door.” Finn followed Logan as he maneuvered his way around tables to the front window, eyeing it critically. “The frame is wide enough that it should stay up on its own, so we won’t need nails or anything.” He grabbed the garland from the counter and then turned back around. Finn looked from him to the tall crown molding around the window.

“Need a ladder?”

“No.”

Finn laughed, grabbing one end of the garland and stretching up to place it on the ledge. Once it was secure, he looked over his shoulder at Logan and stuck his hand out for the other end. Logan hesitated, clearly wanting to do it himself, but quickly admitted defeat and handed it over. He huffed at Finn’s smug smile.

“Shut up.”

Finn laughed as he hung the garland. Logan was so small and grumpy and cute. Finn wanted to bundle him up in his arms and never let go. His little pocket-sized lumberjack. How adorable. He was so different from Leo, in basically every way. And yet Finn still wanted them both. How the hell did that work? 

“I should probably check on the customers.” Finn said reluctantly, glancing around at the breakfast crowd. “Do you think you can manage the kitchen window?”

“I got it.” Logan grumbled, sizing up his next target. Finn just shook his head fondly and started making his rounds to the occupied tables. Logan grabbed the remaining garland and headed behind the counter. He couldn’t help but stick his head through the window and look around. It was several degrees warmer in the kitchen than it was in the dining area. Logan was surprised at how tidy it was, considering how hectic the morning had been. There were a few scattered dishes in the sink, but the counters were mostly clean and organized, each bowl seemed to have a designated location. Leo, focused with his head down, maneuvered between stations with an effortless grace as he breaded a chicken tender and threw it into a frier. Logan never thought he’d be so entranced by something as simple as cooking but here he was, watching Leo hum along to the Christmas music on the radio as he poured batter into a waffle iron. He grabbed a mug of coffee off to the side and looked up as he took a sip, jumping when he saw Logan.

“Logan! Hey, honey!” He smiled, like seeing Logan was the highlight of his day. Logan yearned at the sight of that smile. He seemed to be doing a whole lot of yearning lately. “When did you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago. Brought you something.”

Leo arched an eyebrow. “That sounds a little ominous.”

“No,” Logan laughed. “No, it’s a good thing.” He held up the garland and wiggled it around a little, causing it to sway in the air.

Leo’s entire face lit up. “Christmas decorations?”

“It was Finn’s idea.” Logan said, looking back over his shoulder at the redhead. Leo visibly softened, smile gentle and eyes warm.

“He sure is sweet, isn’t he?”

You just need to talk to them, Noelle’s voice echoed in Logan’s head. Looking at Leo right then, he couldn’t help but think that maybe she was right.

.

“Sure is snowing hard out there, eh?” Logan asked several hours later as he looked out the window. It was a strange lull in the day – too late for lunch, but too early for dinner. They were all grateful for the break. Logan honestly wasn’t sure how Leo did this every day – it was exhausting.

Finn, who was sitting on the other side of the booth from Logan and Leo with his legs stretched out, pulled up the weather app on his phone. “It’s only supposed to get worse. They’re calling for a blizzard.”

Leo looked out at the snow worriedly. “I really don’t wanna drive home in all that.”

“Might need to close up early, then. No one’s going to be out in this weather, anyways.” Logan said, watching Leo bite his lip as he thought about it. “I could drive you, if you want.”

Leo looked over at him, relief clear in his eyes. “Would you?” He rushed to continue, “I don’t wanna inconvenience you or anything, and I know you need to get home too-”

“Leo,” Logan cut in with a smile. If Leo didn’t know Logan would do pretty much anything for him at this point, he was clearly oblivious. “I don’t mind, I promise.”

Leo seemed to accept it without further argument and looked over at Finn. “Do you wanna tag along? I was thinking about making cookies.”

“Well that depends.” Finn said with mock gravitas, leaning forward to rest his forearms against the table. “What kind of cookies are we talking?”

Leo matched his pose, mischief alight in his eyes. “I was thinking snickerdoodles, but I’d be willing to reconsider.”

“Sneak in some sugar cookies we can decorate and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Leo and Finn shook on it, keeping it professional.

Logan was infatuated with the two of them.

“So you’re closing early?” He asked, excited at the prospect of spending the rest of the day with them. At Leo’s nod, he nearly sighed with relief. “Good. You need a break.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. “Maybe I do.”

Finn grinned. “He finally admits it!”

“Ok, ok, I get it.” Leo sighed, shoving Logan’s shoulder repeatedly until he got out of the booth. Leo followed after him. “I’ve got to put stuff away in the kitchen and then I’ll be done.”

Logan and Finn shared a look before trailing after him. They worked together to clean up, put food away, and organize the receipts and cash register for the day. It went much faster with three people. Before they knew it, all three of them were piling into Logan’s pickup truck, bundled up against the cold and brushing freshly-fallen snowflakes off of their coats and out of their hair. Logan pulled out onto the road, driving while Leo gave directions from the passenger’s seat.

Leo’s house was nice – small, but it looked warm and well-loved. There was a snowman out front, complete with a scarf and carrot nose.

“Cute.” Finn said as they got out of the truck, walking up to the snowman. Leo smiled, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“My friend’s little brother made that over the weekend.” He unlocked the front door and ushered everyone inside as he held the door for them. Leo’s house was all cool tones – soft blue and purples and greens. There was a tree in the corner of the living room by the window, all lit up and decorated. There were presents under the tree, wrapped in brown paper with ribbons and bows.

Leo hung his coat on the coat rack and took Logan’s and Finn’s from them. “So. Cookies?”

“Nope,” Logan said, grabbing Leo by the hand and tugging him towards the living room. “Rest first, then cookies.” Leo laughed, reaching behind him to find Finn’s arm and pulling him along with them.

“I won’t say no to a Christmas movie.” He agreed as they all collapsed onto the couch. Finn grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and threw it over the three of them while Leo grabbed the TV remote.

Logan moved closer under the pretense of getting under more of the blanket. He was now pressed up against Leo, butterflies in his stomach. “My vote is for Die Hard.”

Finn scoffed, throwing his legs over Leo’s and Logan’s thighs. “That doesn’t count as a Christmas movie.”

“I beg your pardon-”

“Is it about Christmas? No. Case closed.”

Logan leaned forward to look around Leo at the redhead. “It takes place during Christmas!”

Leo just listened amusedly to the bickering as he flicked through movie titles. They were still arguing when he started the cute, old Claymation Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. Both boys trailed off as the introduction music started.

“This works.” Finn said, settling in to get more comfortable, his calves flexing against Logan’s thighs as he stretched. Logan hummed in agreement, eyes already glued on the screen.

They hadn’t even met Hermey the elf before Leo was sound asleep, head pillowed on Finn’s shoulder and breathing slow and even. Finn looked over blond curls at Logan and smiled, making his heart thud painfully in his chest. He needed to talk to them, and soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit there and keep all these feelings internalized.

But it could wait until after a nap. He snuggled up close and turned back to the TV.

.

“No, you need to-” Leo stopped and laughed, pointing to the recipe. “Teaspoon of vanilla extract, darlin’, not tablespoon.”

Finn switched out one measuring spoon for another with a wince. “That would’ve been bad, huh?”

“Very bad.” Leo agreed, looking over at the oven to see Logan already staring back at them, a wide, almost-giddy smile on his face as he started loading cookie dough balls onto a baking tray. One tray of snickerdoodles were already in the oven and spreading out rapidly as they cooked.

“We might’ve put those too close to each other,” Logan said, crouching down to look into the oven. “They’re all starting to stick together. It’s just one big, square cookie.”

“That’s ok. It’ll still taste good.” Leo said with a shrug. They both turned when Finn started banging on the table in time to the music.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas! There is just one thing I need!” He screamed, bopping along to the song. Logan laughed and let himself be tugged forwards to dance. Leo watched as they both jumped around and danced in the kitchen, hips swaying and acting like total dorks. But they were so happy, as well. Big smiles graced their faces as they laughed and sang and held each other close. Leo whisked wet ingredients together in a bowl and leaned back against the counter as he enjoyed the over-the-top show. They were cute together in the warm glow of the kitchen – a sharp contrast to the snow falling outside and collecting on the windowsill. Finn tilted his head back to shriek the last high note, causing Logan and Leo to both burst into fits of laughter.

“O’Hara, please don’t audition for Broadway.” Logan teased, still laughing a little. Finn scowled and grabbed a tea towel, spinning it up before whipping it at the brunet.

This started an all-out war. Many a cookie lost their life in the crossfire when Logan accidentally hit Leo’s arm as he was transferring cooled cookies into a tin. They had a warrior’s send-off as they were dumped into the trash can.

After the cookies were baked and decorated and the kitchen was cleaned thoroughly, it was pitch black outside. Leo had genuinely lost track of time, but he was selfishly grateful for it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for y’all to be driving in this weather in the dark.” He said, snagging a cookie from one of the plates and taking a bite as he tried to be casual about the two boys potentially staying the night. “I’ve got a guest bedroom and a pull-out couch if you wanna stay here.”

Finn and Logan looked at each other, then Logan shrugged. “If that’s ok with you.”

Ok? It was wonderful.

“Of course it is. I’ll go make up the beds and get y’all something to sleep in, ok?” Leo said before hurrying to his room, where he hastily made his bed and rummaged through his dresser for clothes. He muttered to himself as he pulled out two pairs of sweatpants. “Don’t make a big deal of this, Nutty. They’re just spending the night. That’s it.”

His mind fast-forwarded to imagine sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. They’d talk and laugh and just maybe share some coffee-flavored kisses.

Leo sighed, pressing his forehead against the edge of his dresser. “I’m screwed, ain’t I?”

.

Logan woke up to a gentle hand prodding his shoulder. He breathed in sharply as he remembered where he was and blinked his eyes open to be met with worried blue ones. “Leo?” He asked as he sat up, voice raspy with lack of use. “What’s wrong?”

He was greeted with an absolute onslaught of words. “There’s so much snow outside. Like, so much snow. I’ve never seen this much snow before. And I didn’t think it would be this bad so I don’t have any milk or bread or eggs in the house and I doubt I can get to the store. How long do you think the roads will be out? And what about the diner? Is snow damage a thing? Do I need to go check-”

Logan laughed softly, falling back against the pillows and covering his eyes with his forearm. “What – milk, eggs, and bread?”

“It’s a southern thing.” Logan couldn’t see him, but he could hear the pout in his voice. His vision was suddenly filled with blond bed-head and wide baby blues as Leo pulled his arm away from his face. If he could wake up to this every day, Logan would die a happy man. “Come on, sweetheart, I’m really freaking out right now.”

One of these days, the terms of endearment were actually going to kill him.

“I’m sure the diner’s fine. Besides, there’s not much we can do until the roads clear, so we’ll just have to wait it out.” Logan shifted over on the bed, leaving a Leo-sized spot open. He tugged on Leo’s arm until he crawled into bed, laying on his side to face Logan, their feet tangled together. Leo was wearing fuzzy socks.

Logan smiled at the sight in front of him, then closed his eyes again. “Go back to sleep, Leo. We’ll deal with it when-”

The door banged open to reveal Finn, face bright with excitement. “Snow! Have you guys seen all the snow? We should-” He stopped when he saw the two boys in bed, nestled together and still sleepy. He cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to-”

“Cuddle.” Leo said, reaching up for Finn as well. “We should cuddle.” Finn smiled warmly and didn’t hesitate to clamber into bed on Logan’s other side, scooting in close and only elbowing Logan once as he got comfy. Logan grumbled, but quickly got over it when he felt a tentative arm wrap around him as he drifted back off to sleep.

.

Leo woke up to two boys asleep in bed with him and couldn’t think of a time when he was happier. They were all tangled together in a mess of limbs and blankets and pillows. It was warm and soft and Leo never wanted to leave. But he also wanted to surprise them with coffee and breakfast. Breakfast in bed wouldn’t be too obvious would it? He thought back to the past twenty-four hours and decided that if this wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t sure what was. Now it was just a matter of taking that next step and actually talking about it. So who cared if it was too obvious or not?

Leo glanced at Logan and Finn one last time. There was just something about seeing the two of them in his clothes. Logan’s sweaterpaws were visible from where he was grabbing onto Finn’s arm in his sleep. Finn was close to the same size as Leo so the clothes actually fit him pretty well. His face was pressed into brown hair, arm tightening around Logan as he huffed out a breath. The sight did something to Leo’s heart. He smiled dopily before sneaking out of bed, his back popping as he stretched. Ok, game plan: coffee, breakfast, talk. He could do this.

He crept down the hall and into the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as he could when getting a frying pan out and setting it on the stove. Next came the kettle for water to use in the French press, bacon, and ingredients to make homemade biscuits. Normally he would’ve done eggs, but they’d used all of them on the cookies yesterday.

The biscuits went into the oven and the bacon into the frying pan, sizzling away. So much for breakfast in bed. Leo knew the smell of food cooking would bring the other two out of the bedroom and, sure enough, he soon heard two pairs of footsteps headed towards him, one slightly muffled by too-long sweatpants hems dragging along the floor. He grabbed three mugs from the cabinet and sent a smile over his shoulder at the two boys.

Three cups of coffee: one black, one with cream only, and one with cream and sugar.

Leo pulled the biscuits out of the oven and quickly transferred them onto a plate, doing the same with the bacon before bringing both to the table.

“Leo, you’re an angel.” Finn said as he grabbed plates and silverware for the three of them. Logan hummed in agreement from in front of the fridge, where he was collecting butter and jams for the biscuits. They all joined each other at the kitchen table, still a little sleepy-eyed and half awake.

Leo, halfway through his first sip of coffee, passed Finn his mug of steaming black coffee, then Logan his own cup full of cream and sugar, just how he liked it. Logan looked down at it and sighed happily, “Love you, Nutter Butter.”

Finn’s head shot up. Leo choked on his coffee, cheeks heating up. Logan looked at them confusedly before he realized what he said and his face paled. “Shit.”

“You... you love me?” Leo asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s heart ached a little at the look on Leo’s face. God, he should’ve told him a long time ago. In response he just slowly nodded, hesitantly meeting wide eyes and hoping for the best.

Leo smiled, letting out a soft laugh. “Honey, I’ve loved you for months.” He took a deep breath, as if gathering up his courage, then reached out to grab Finn’s hand. “And I think I’m falling for you, too. Judging from the way Logan stares at you when you’re not looking, he feels the same.” Leo looked from Finn to Logan hopefully. “Right?”

Finn squeezed Leo’s hand, finally daring to hope. Maybe he could actually have this. His heart thundered in his chest, so loud that Logan and Leo were bound to hear it. “And how does he stare at me when I’m not looking?”

Leo’s eyes flicked over to Logan with a smile. “Take a look for yourself.”

Finn’s breath hitched as he looked over into evergreen eyes, bright and gazing at him the same way Finn had caught him staring at Leo so many times before. He laughed a little in relief, tracing Logan’s cheekbone with gentle fingers.

“I was a little worried we were never going to have this conversation. And I know we’ve got a lot to figure out, but...” He trailed off, a little in awe. What were the odds of this? Everything seemed to fall perfectly into place, like puzzle pieces. It wasn’t some huge revelation, though. There were no grand romantic gestures, no race against time, no frantic outburst. It was calm and gentle like the sun rising outside, casting everything in light pastels and golds.

Logan just laughed softly, scooting his chair back with a loud scraping noise and standing up. “Stop just sitting there and come here, I’ve been wanting to kiss you two for forever.”

Finn scrambled up from his seat and all but threw himself at Logan, nearly bowling him over as he kissed him enthusiastically, arms wrapped tightly around Logan’s waist. Leo smiled as he watched them. He loved their dynamic – the bickering and teasing like they’d known each other for years, and yet the head-over-heels way they looked at each other and held each other and kissed each other. They were so comfortable together, not shying away from anything it seemed. Leo couldn’t wait to see how their relationship grew and evolved over time. He couldn’t wait to see how all three of them would grow together. He stood too and joined Logan and Finn, pressing kisses to their cheeks, their jaws, their necks – anywhere he could reach.

Finn broke the kiss to press his forehead against Logan’s, eyes closed and smile a mile wide. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you at that farm.” His eyes turned to Leo next. He reached up and cupped Leo’s face in his hands. “And I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first bite of pie.”

“What, was the muffuletta not good enough for – mmph.” Leo’s teasing words got cut off by Finn’s lips on his. He sighed into the kiss, draping his arms over Finn’s freckled shoulders and angling his head to deepen the kiss. He could taste black coffee on Finn’s lips and had never loved the flavor more. There was another hand at his back, stroking over his spine. Logan. Leo leaned back into his hand before breaking away from Finn to look at Logan – the guy he’d been pining after for just shy of a year.

“How did I get so lucky?” He murmured, prompting Logan to lean up and kiss him, softly and heartbreakingly gentle. Leo kissed him with purpose, running his tongue against Logan’s bottom lip and causing his breath to hitch.

He thought back to his musings of the night before during his panic in his bedroom and laughed against Logan’s lips. The brunet made a questioning humming noise, so Leo leaned back just far enough to whisper, “Maybe I’m clairvoyant.”

Finn laughed, bewildered. “What?”

Leo just glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, smiled, and combed a finger through red tresses. Sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. Talking and laughing and sharing some coffee-flavored kisses. Those had been his thoughts last night. And here he was, suddenly getting all of those things.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” Leo said, looking down at his two with overflowing fondness as he thought of the future and hoped that those musings would come true, too.

[dcforts]

[day 4: cooking and baking]

Now, Bobby Singer didn’t always exactly enjoy having Sam and Dean around – he was used to living alone and he liked his routine; they got loud when they bickered and he always had to make sure they were clean and fed and far from the stuff he had laying around that they weren’t supposed to touch.

He never wanted to be a father after all, nor get stuck running a daycare for hunters for that matter, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say no to John whenever he asked, even if he had his garage to run and hunting on the side.

He felt bad for them. He might have known nothing about raising children, but he sure knew that they were supposed to have a home, not to be dragged across the country in an old car, exposed to all kinds of dangers.

So, if washing an extra set of bedsheets and hiding his booze and getting a headache or two from their feet stomping upstairs meant giving them a roof over their head for a few days, a familiar place where to feel safe and proper food in their belly – if one could count canned soup as proper food – then he could bite the bullet.

And they were good kids, they always did what he told them and never complained about anything.

Even when one year they got stuck at his place on Christmas Eve. The air was heavy around the dinner table and Bobby had turned on the tv in an attempt to liven up the atmosphere and distract them. Still, they remained quiet, hunched over their plates wearing gloomy faces.

Their father was supposed to pick them up but he’d called and said he wasn’t gonna make it. Bobby knew it was gonna happen as soon as he’d heard the phone ringing that afternoon.

"But it’s Christmas!” he’d hissed angrily trying not to be heard by the kids, “What am I supposed to tell them?”

“Uh - I don’t know, Bobby," John had replied, with that tone he got when he was uninterested in what you were saying and had already uncorked one too many beers. "It’s just this one time.”

When Bobby had delivered the news, Dean had shouted "Why hasn’t he called me?" and Sam had grumbled "You should have convinced him", so they most likely hated him too.

Bobby didn’t take it personally, if he were a kid he sure wouldn’t have liked to spend Christmas with someone like him and without his only parent.

Bobby didn’t do holidays at all. He hanged a wreath on the front door just cause he kept it in the hallway all year round. He made himself a turkey sandwich. He enjoyed a classic movie just as the next guy and he passed out on the couch with a glass of store-bought eggnog. That was it. It was not like he had anyone to share it with. It had been like that for years and he didn’t mind. 

Knowing that the kids would be around though, he’d hanged on the window a string of lights he’d found in the basement and had put on display a weird looking statue of an elf - although if he wasn’t sure if it was Christmas related or just an old dark artifact. The boys had spared those things barely a glance and not brought up Christmas at all so Bobby had just figured that they didn’t do holidays either.

But then a commercial featuring a big holiday banquet came on tv for the umpteenth time, filling the kitchen with its obnoxious jingle and Dean finally spoke up.

“Hey Bobby,” he asked, tearing his eyes from the tv. “Did your mother ever bake for the holidays?”

Bobby didn’t even remember the last time he’d talked about his mother with anyone. It always brought up bittersweet memories he didn’t like to deal with. Still, he cleared his throat, “Sure,” he said, but now Sam was watching him too so he added, “she was a good baker - made a mean blueberry pie.”

Dean gave him a small smile. “Really?”

“Yeah, and she’d always make two, one for everyone and another one just for me."

“A whole pie? Just for you?" Sam asked with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"I could eat that," intervened Dean immediately.

Bobby snorted, “Yeah, I know that, kid."

Dean smiled proudly, but then Sam said "You couldn’t, Dean. You’d get sick."

"No, I wouldn’t," he shot back.

"Yes, you would. Not even an adult can - "

"What do you know, if you never - ”

“I know - ”

Bobby groaned and got up from the table to start collecting the dirty dishes, "Alright, break it up".

They fell into silence again as he put the dishes in the sink and started washing them.

"Go get ready for bed."

He heard the scraping of chair legs on the floorboards, but he was still thinking about his mother and didn’t realize that only one pair of shoes had left the room and the other one had come to stand next to him.

"Does your oven work?" Dean said, making him jump.

"Wh- my oven? Yeah. Why?”

"Just ‘cause... you never use it," was his reply, a little unsure.

"That don’t mean it don’t work."

"Have you ever used it?”

"Can’t remember, honestly.”

"Mum used to bake pies for me too," Dean said then. "Sammy wasn’t there so he gets upset when I talk about it."

Bobby gave him half a smile. "Bet Mary's pies were the best, uh?”

"Yeah", he said, but he sounded thoughtful. He still made no move to leave and Bobby didn’t know what else to say. The last thing he wanted was to make the boy sad, or worse, make him cry for his mom.

He started working faster on drying those dishes.

"Maybe your father remembers the recipe. You should ask him,” he said, casually.

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say. Dean tugged the hem of his jacket and looked at him with the most scared expression Bobby had ever seen on him. “Don’t!" he said, "Please. Dad doesn’t like talking about these things. Don’t tell him I told you."

Bobby gritted his teeth and tried to not let his rage show on his face. He put down the rag and grabbed one of his shoulder, “It’s okay, Dean. I won’t.”

Dean gulped and quickly nodded and Bobby itched for a drink.

“Now go. It’s time for bed.”

"Yes, sir," said Dean.

“You don’t have to cal-” he started, then sighed, “Nevermind. Just go.”

As he heard the door upstair close he opened the highest cabinet and grabbed his bottle of scotch. He sat down to pour himself a glass, took his cap off and rubbed his forehead.

His hands tightened into fists at the thought of John. How could he leave them like that? What would’ve happened if he’d died on a hunt? Who would have cared for them? Bobby certainly couldn’t – John couldn’t possibly expect –

The tv was still on.

His second glass was already empty when that stupid holiday commercial with that stupid jingle came on once again. Annoyed, Bobby stood up to turn it off and that’s when Dean came to his mind and a thought hit him.

The kid wanted a damn pie.

He just didn’t know how to ask, or even if he could ask. And of course he would think that, with that father of his, his taboos and his rules. Bobby felt anger and stubborness rise in him.

If the kid wanted a goddamn pie, Bobby would’ve given him a goddamn pie. Even if he had to drive for miles at the crack of dawn on Christmas Day for blueberries.

And now where the fuck did he put Karen’s recipe book?

*

The morning after, he cracked the bedroom door open and Dean blinked awake as soon as he brushed his shoulder.

“Don’t wake your brother. Come downstairs," he whispered, motioning him to be quiet.

In the daylight Bobby was willing to admit that he was a little nervous about his idea.

Yet he couldn’t resist watching Dean’s face as he entered the kitchen ten minutes later and stopped in his track when he saw flour, eggs, sugar and blueberries lined up on the counter.

It was like his face couldn’t settle on an emotion. He frowned, smiled, frowned again. Then he just looked at Bobby as if he was asking him what he was supposed to do or say.

"I was thinking it’s about time I make that oven work again. What you say? Wanna bake your own pie?"

Dean surprised himself with a laugh. "But Bobby - I don’t – I never -"

"What, you think I do?" Bobby shrugged, "If it’s bad, we’ll just throw it out."

Dean seemed too overwhelmed to say anything. He just nodded.

Bobby went towards him. "See, I got this book here, it was my wife’s. We’re more than capable to follow a bunch of instructions, right?"

It took way longer than Bobby had anticipated, and surely longer than it generally took other people. And it wasn’t easy. At all. Not just because in the last few years he’d reduced his diet to mostly pre-cooked stuff, but especially for the smells that filled the kitchen and the long string of memories attached to them - Karen and his mom, guilt and comfort, sweetness and fear.

But Bobby went through all of it, the fishing out of the egg shells, the spilling of the flour, the hour long wait for the dough to set and the million questions Dean seemed to have – because the boy enjoyed himself.

Bobby was pretty sure of it, from the way he groaned in disgust as he dipped his hands in the mixture with raw eggs, in his cheeky face when he lied about stealing the blueberries they were using, in his clear laugh when Bobby slipped and almost crashed on the dirty floor; all of that made it worth it.

When the oven door was closed and the timer was set, he even sat cross-legged on the tiles to watch it as it baked.

Bobby moved around him to clean the mess they’d made and then went to wash himself up. When he looked himself in the bathroom mirror he saw flour all over his beard and bits of dough on his flannel. He found himself smiling a little.

He might not be able to bring the boys the spirit of Christmas or whatever crap they sold these days, but he would’ve been be satisfied if he managed to make them happier for half a day.

Dean started pounding on the door right in that moment. “Bobby!” he was shouting, “The timer! Hurry up! We need to get it out!”

Bobby’s reflection rolled his eyes and sighed. “Coming!” he shouted back and heard Dean running away again.

When he entered the kitchen half a minute later, Sam had joined Dean in front of the oven. He was still in his pyjamas and looked up at him with sleepy eyes. “Dean’s screams woke me up,” he said.

“Yeah, alright. I’m here, let me through and step back. I don’t want you to get burned.”

As carefully as possible, he took the pie out under the scrutinizing gaze of the brothers. As he sat it on the table he noticed the uneven colour of the crust and the filling that had spilled all over the sides and through the cracks. He made a face. “Well - doesn’t look half bad as far as first attempts go -" he tried to say but his words were drowned by the boys shouting “Whoa!”

"It smells so good," said Dean, wearing a proud smile.

"It’s perfect," said Sam with the solemnity of a renown critic. "Can we try it now?"

"Let’s give it a moment to cool down. You go get dressed. Dean, go wash your hands."

They both sprinted in different directions. Sam immediately ran up the stairs banging a hand on the banister in excitement. Dean bolted in the direction of the downstairs bathroom.

“Be careful!” he thundered.

They both shouted back at once: “Yes, Uncle Bobby!”

A rush of affection washed over him. He shook his head looking down at their pie.

“Merry Christmas kids.” 

 joining @bend-me-shape-me in this!

[gay-otlc]

Keepers of the Chaos (Chapter 2)

Summary: Tam, Linh, Keefe, Biana, and Fitz are part of the tiny fandom for Keeper of the Chaos, and Tam and Linh's podcast convinces some of their other friends to watch it as well. The group finds themselves strangely invested in this show, where students at Tumblr High School who work together to write about an elf named Sophia, cause incomprehensible chaos, and fight their rival Pinterest High School.

Content warnings: Cursing, food, L*ura

Word count: 2005

Notes: Check out the beautiful theme song here!

(Read on AO3)

Sophie rolls her eyes as she opens the link her girlfriend sent her and puts in her earbuds. Biana has been incessantly pestering her to watch Keepers of the Chaos for so long that Sophie half wants to watch it just to shut her up, but she's always tired, or busy, and she doesn't really like watching new things. Still, Biana asked her very nicely to listen to this one podcast, and she looked very pretty when she asked, so Sophie's dumb omni ass couldn't refuse.

"Welcome to the Twins of the Chaos podcast," it begins after loading for an obnoxiously long time. The girl speaking has a pretty voice, Sophie has to admit- sweet and melodic and vaguely amused.

Maybe listening to this podcast won't be so bad if she can listen to that girl's voice the whole time.

But another person speaks, adding "Where some chaotic twins discuss our favorite show, Keepers of the Chaos," and his voice is not as pretty. She continues listening anyway, since Biana may or may not murder her if she stops.

The two voices- whose names are Linh and Tam, apparently- start talking about Keepers of the Chaos some more, giving Sophie a summary she's heard tons of times from Biana and Fitz- though the twins explain it slightly more coherently and with less... whatever the verbal equivalent of keyboard smashing is. Biana usually starts rambling about her favorite characters, like Lynn- not "Lynn the fandom mom," but the other Lynn- and Avery, or sometimes Nora and Darwin. Sophie doesn't understand any of those names and loses track of the conversation as soon as it involves too many unfamiliar names.

But Tam and Linh are making more sense, at least for the most part, until they start mentioning specific couples. The conversation gets again comprehensive soon enough, though, and Sophie does smile at the name "The Dark Duck."

By the end, when Tam says "half of them wearing sleeping masks with teal eyes painted on and the other half watching the chaos with mild amusement," Sophie is curious enough to be mildly intrigued. She listens to their outro music, and before she can regret it, types out a text message to Biana.

Sophie: fine

Sophie: ill watch it

Biana responds instantly with an array of heart emojis. Sophie blushes.

Biana: can i come over and watch with u?

Sophie: ok!

Sophie: moms making mallowmelt

Sophie: but u cant have any

Biana: >:(

Biana: hope u like being single then

Sophie: fine u can have some mallowmelt

Biana: yayyyy!

Biana: ily

Sophie: ilyt

Sophie: now lets watch ur stupid show

Biana: on my way!!!

Sophie smiles, shaking her head. She's a little annoyed, but fine, it sounds interesting enough from the podcast. And what else would she be doing? Studying? Having US history as an alternative would make even the most horrible of shows seem good. She stuffs her textbooks into her backpack and shoves some things out of the way so her room looks a bit neater before rushing downstairs. The mallowmelt smells good enough to make her mouth water.

"Mmm..." she sighs, barely taking time to let it cool off before taking a large bite. "That's so good. Thanks, Mom."

Edaline  smiles. "You're welcome. Just save some for your father and I."

"Fine, fine. I have to share with Biana, anyway." Sophie huffs and takes another bite. "She's coming over, is that alright? We're going to watch a show together."

"Sure, just make sure to get your homework done."

Sophie rolls her eyes. "Fine."

"And keep the door open!" Grady calls. Edaline laughs as Sophie's face flames.

"I'm going back to my room," she grumbles, taking a plate of mallowmelt with her and walking up the stairs. She manages not to trip over her own feet and drop the mallowmelt, thankfully, as she grabs her laptop and opens Netflix. Sighing, she searches for Keepers of the Chaos and clicks on the show that comes up before waiting for Biana to arrive.

The doorbell rings soon, and Sophie carefully sets down her laptop and her plate on her bed before rushing down the stairs. Panting slightly, she opens the door for her girlfriend. Biana's wearing a t-shirt with the Amsterdam flag on it. Sophie has no idea why. Maybe Biana likes the country? Her girlfriend is pretty weird. "Come on in," she says, realizing she's been staring. In her defense, Biana is pretty and Sophie is very omni.

"Ready to go watch Keepers of the Chaos?" Biana asks. She bounces on her toes slightly.

"Alright," says Sophie. "I set it up on my laptop in my room."

"Awesome! You'll love it."

Sophie follows Biana up the stairs and into her room. They sit on the bed together, Sophie leaning against the wall and Biana leaning against Sophie, and Biana presses play. Somber kazoos begin playing in the background as the theme song starts.

We're on the edge of chaos

No one is straight

We're making fanart

Because L*ura we hate

And we're gonna have teal eyes in the end!

We must be weird, and we must be gay

(We must be gay!)

We will find every bit of sanity that we have

And give it all to Lynn

Ohhhh

We must be gay!

Biana dances a little along with the song, and Sophie can't help but smile. A curvy, round-faced person with short dark hair and colorful earrings plays a few notes on the piano, and then a KEEPERS OF THE CHAOS logo flashes across the screen. Then, a group of students sit in a classroom.

"Shai! Tater! Lynn! You three finally got together?" says the same person who just played piano, gesturing to a redhaed wearing a Sappho lesbian flag cape. She's holding the fingerless-gloved hand of a lanky person with brightly colored hair, and they're holding hands with a tall girl who has chin length brown hair. The rest of the class applauds the fiancees before returning to their own conversations.

"Yep! Thanks, Ink," says Tater.

Ink smiles at them and turns to a person with light brown skin and golden hoop earrings partially covered by long dark hair. "Hi, Kiri, how was your break?"

"Good! Here's to a good 2021?" Kiri turns to the person next to them. "How about you, Ref?"

Ref has short brown hair and red glasses. "Yeah, my break was dOPE," she says, leaving everyone to wonder how he did that with their voice. "oH, and happy belated Hanukkah to Shai!"

"Thanks, you too. And guess what! I didn't set my hair on fire this year!"

A short guy with strawberry blonde hair looks concerned. "Um. Congratulations?"

"Thanks, Sam!"

Sophie looks away from the screen and at Biana. "There are a lot of characters..." she mutters.

"Yeah, but you get to know them well enough eventually," says Biana. "Now shh, let's keep watching!"

A lot of other characters are introduced in various conversations, and Sophie's brain has a hard time keeping track of them all. She does remember Tara, a curvy, bored-looking girl with long sideswept bangs, and Blue, a bisexual who may or may not be an arsonist. She doesn't know either of their personalities very well yet, but she likes them so far. Lucat, a pale, blue haired asexual, who later joins the Hanukkah conversation, also seems cool.

Once quite a bit of introductions are done- Sophie lost count at around twenty something- are over, an announcement comes over the school's loudspeakers.

"Welcome back, Tumblr High School!" announces a voice. "I hope you all had a good break. Now, the Tumblr staff have an important announcement for you all. High schools in this county, like ours, Pinterest High School, and Instagram High School, will be holding a competition. All members of the winning team will receive a scholarship to AO3 college. If you are interested, meet in room 69 after school. Now, onto other announcements..."

Somber kazoos play again as the principal's droning voice fades into the background. A montage of the previously introduced characters wishing they could go to AO3 college moves across the screen. After a few minutes of them zooming through school and talking about how fucking boring it is, all of them gather in the room (some of them with more jokes than others) to discuss the competition.

A blonde woman welcomes them into the room. They wait a while to make sure no one else will arrive, but once everyone is there, the woman clears her throat. "Hello, everyone! I'm glad you're interested in joining the competition. My name is Shannon Messenger, and I'm in charge of admissions at AO3 College. My coworker L*ura and I designed this competition."

Sophie gasps and looks at Biana. "L*ura? But isn't that the person they hate? They said that in the intro!" Biana smiles at her, and she blushes as she realizes that she's kind of... maybe... invested in the show now. She decides she'll endure the "I told you so"s later and looks back at the show, trying to telepathically tell the characters not to trust this L*ura person... and perhaps not Shannon either. It's too early to tell whether Shannon will be an antagonist or not.

"All of you will be working as a team to write a story together. The main premise is that a twelve year old girl named Sophia is a telepath, but she can't tell anyone her secret. Then, she meets a teal-eyed boy named Finn, and he tells her that she's an elf. She travels back to the elf world with him, where she struggles a bit at the elf school Firefox, makes friends with some other elves, learns that she is an illegal creation of a rebel group called the Dark Duck, and another rebel group- the Rarelynoticed- tries to kidnap and kill Sophia and her friend Deck. There are other details to be included into the story, which will be given out to the participants as a packet. The object of this competition is not to determine your ability at coming up with story ideas, but your ability to work in groups and execute well developed ideas. Does anyone have any questions?"

Someone raises their hand- a short, tanned girl. "Lynn?" prompts the principal.

"Did you say the rebel group was named the Dark Duck?"

"And the Rarelynoticed?" adds another person, with rectangular glasses and a red bracelet.

"Raise your hand before speaking, Auran," scolds the principal. "But yes, those are the names."

"Alright then," Auran mutters.

"Unless anyone else has questions, we'll be sending out sign up forms for everyone interested, and then we will distribute the information packets about your story. You can talk to each other and start planning."

No one else has questions, so once they've all filled out the sign up form, they gather in small groups and flip through the packets, making sarcastic comments or mocking names ("'Rarelynoticed' though-" a stylish hijabi named Raiin sighs as they come across a page of information about the group) as they try to form some semblance of a plan. Once they all agree that they've made a lot of progress, they make plans to meet up again soon and walk back home.

Unbeknownst  to them, a pair of ominous teal eyes watch from above.

Somber kazoos play once again, and the credits roll.

"So, what'd you think?" Biana asks as Sophie closes her laptop.

Rather inaudibly, Sophie mumbles "It was good."

"What was that?"

"It was good! I liked it!"

Biana grins. "I told you so." She leans over and kisses Sophie on the cheek. "Thanks for watching it. I have to go do some homework, awesome seeing you!" As she walks out, Sophie hears her singing under her breath. "We must be gay..."

[mrs-hilmarson]

Run To Me (Part 4)

Pairing: Diane Sherman x Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 2.5k

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

TW: Brief mention of vomiting. I don’t want anyone getting triggered, so I would rather be overly cautious!

A/N: If you would like to be on a tag list for this fic, please add a comment below or shoot me a message! Excited about the next chapter, things are coming. Again thank you for the love. I am having so much fun writing this and it means even more when you have people who enjoy reading it!

Even though it had been four whole days since the accident, you were not feeling better. Diane had said that the day after was supposed to be the worst, but it seemed like you felt weaker each day. Diane was keeping a close eye on you though, making sure you weren't running a fever and that the road rash and cuts weren't getting worse. She said if you got any weaker, she would bring you to the local urgent care to make sure something serious wasn't going on.

Though you weren't feeling well, you enjoyed the days spent with Diane in the quiet little house, just the two of you. You had learned a lot about each other in the past few days, developing a routine with one another that always ended the day with a cup of that nasty ass tea, but deep and sweet conversation.

You hadn't gone into too much detail about your past quite yet, about your mother or father or what it was like in the foster home. You shared mainly surface level things and funny memories that were light hearted. You knew the heavier stuff would be discussed eventually. Although you were choosing to keep the painful memories of your past to yourself for the time being, Diane had opened to you almost immediately.

You found out she didn't have parents either, her mother dying when she was a child and she was married when she was very young, to an abusive husband that left her for another woman only a year and a half into the marriage. Soon after she found out she was pregnant and she decided to not reach out to her ex-husband and to just raise the baby on her own. Unfortunately she developed high blood pressure and delivered the baby too soon, and she died in Diane's arms before she even had time to discuss options. Her name was Chloe and Diane chose to live a quiet life after that. She moved to Washington only a few years ago and put herself into teaching, science, and her garden. She always wanted a child, but she was just never able have one again.

When she told you that, your heart broke for her. Of course she was so willing to take you home with her. She was lonely! She had promised to take care of you, but you knew as soon as you were back on your feet, you were going to try and care for her too. In whatever way she would let you. You weren't Chloe, and you could never be Chloe, but you could love her with all your heart.

It had been another rough day, as you had suddenly developed a bad headache and had felt queasy for most of it. You didn't really eat much of your dinner, pushing it around your plate. You didn't want to tell Diane you had vomited up breakfast. If she knew you were barely keeping things down, she may get worried.

Diane cleared the plates from the table and brought them to the sink. She noticed you didn't eat more than a few bites. She didn't say anything but turned to you and smiled.

"How about you go ahead and sit on the couch? I'll be there in just a minute," she said quietly. Her voice had seemed to grow more gentle towards you each day.

You smiled wearily and went to the living room, lazily sitting down on the couch. It could have only been a few minutes, but you somehow managed to fall asleep. You were constantly tired and wanting to nap. Diane said it was a good sign because it meant your body was trying to heal itself.

You were woken up by the couch dipping under Diane's weight. You opened your eyes and saw her smiling at you, holding a bowl of something brown. It smelled sweet and you looked at her suspiciously.

"What's that? No tea tonight?" you asked, hopeful.

Diane chuckled and pulled out two spoons, sticking it into the bowl.

"No, no tea tonight. I don't want you to get too much of those herbs and vitamins. And this, it's brownie batter. Me and my friends as teenagers would make a bowl of it and eat it as we talked about boys and school and our dreams," she said, picking up a spoon and licking off the chocolate from it.

You couldn't help but smile as you took a spoon and licked at it cautiously. You had never had the stuff and it was intoxicating. You shoved the whole spoon in your mouth, ready to inhale the entire bowl.

Diane laughed and pulled the bowl towards her.

"Alright, alright speedy... don't eat it too fast. You'll get sick."

You forced yourself to go slower, but the moment Diane turned around you would be sure to put as much of it in your mouth that would fit. This was worth getting sick over. Diane stared at you, drinking up the image of you enjoying the treat she had brought.

"You know," Diane hummed, "I always thought I'd do this one day with my daughter. Make it a tradition and she'd tell me her secrets and we would be best friends."

You're heart ached in your chest. You knew she meant Chloe and you knew she would rather her be on the couch than you. Suddenly the batter didn't taste as sweet. You put the spoon into the bowl and left it there. You looked up at Diane and saw she was almost beaming at you though.

"I'm glad I get to do it with you," she said, picking up the spoon with her other hand and letting you eat off it.

You felt really confused, but happy at the same time. You knew you weren't her daughter, but sometimes the way she said things or looked at you, it was like she wanted you to be. As if that's how she saw you. You weren't sure if you saw her as a mother though, you didn't really know what that felt like. It was complex for you.

"So, Y/n, tell me. What did you do with your friends? Did you have any special traditions with the girls?" Diane asked, eating another spoon of the batter, it dripping onto her lips.

It broke you from your anxious thoughts and had you now thinking about your past. It wasn't that much better but at least it would keep you talking.

"Well, I really wasn't in one place long enough to make any traditions with my friends. But me and my foster sister, the one who lives in town, we would go and sneak out of our group home and head to the woods behind it. The woods had fireflies in them and we would go see the 'light shows' and talk about a bunch of different things. What our families could have been like, what we were going to do when we aged out, the issues we had at the home."

You remembered those nights fondly, some of the few good memories you had growing up. You wondered if there were any woods in the area and if they had fireflies. Maybe you could go and see a 'light show' for old times sake. You would ask your sister when you saw her. But you needed to call her first.

"Uh Diane, could I possibly use your phone?"

Diane suddenly stiffened, the spoon thudding back into the batter. Her face seemed to harden just for a moment before quickly returning to the warm look she often gave you. It took her a moment to respond, making the air between you thick for some reason.

"Sure. Are you okay?" she said, her voice sounding concerned.

She seemed like she was worried and you wondered if she thought she had upset you.

"Oh yeah! I'm fine. I just actually wanted to call my sister and let her know I made it here and that I'm safe and see when she wanted to meet up," you said in a confident tone, hoping to ease her mind.

Her face seemed to twitch and she swallowed hard, clearing her throat. She smiled at you though and you just shrugged off her strange reaction. She pointed to the kitchen where the phone hung on the wall. Diane had phones with chords still in her house, which you found charming, but also a little inconvenient that you couldn't step outside.

"You're welcome to call your foster sister," she said, saying the word 'foster' strangely, "I'm going to go upstairs and get ready for bed to give you some privacy."

She smiled at you and brushed your hair behind your ear before getting up and heading to her room. You waited until you could no longer hear her footsteps before leaning over the brownie bowl and quickly stuffing your mouth with as much batter as you could. As soon as you swallowed it all, you realized you may have made a mistake, but you could regret it later.

You walked over to the phone and pressed the buttons to the number you had memorized by heart. You felt nervous suddenly even though nothing had changed and you had just talked to her a week ago. Your heart race increased with each ringer, anxious to hear her voice.

"Hello?" a sleepy voice on the other side of the phone croaked.

"Mandy? Mandy, its Y/n."

There was some rustling on the other side of the line and you were pretty sure you had woken Mandy up, but you knew she wouldn't mind.

"Hey! I was wondering when I would hear from you. I was a little worried. You were supposed to call me like two days ago," she yawned.

"Yeah I'm sorry. I had a little set back. But I'm here in town and I'm staying with a woman I met-"

Mandy cut you off with a very obnoxious "Ooooohhhhhh!"

"Shut up. It's not like that. She's just a really good friend that I was lucky enough to meet. Now before you say anything else stupid, when and where do you want to meet?"

Mandy chuckled on the other end. She knew you hated being picked on and anytime she sensed even the possibility of making you uncomfortable, she had to crack a joke.

"Well, I have class tomorrow, but I am free after lunch. There is a nice little coffee shop book store on Howard. You can meet me there at like 2PM. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah, that's perfect. I can't wait. I've missed you so much Mandy," you said, tears prickling at your eyes.

"I've missed you too lighting bug. So tell me, who is this lady you are-"

Suddenly Mandy's voice cut off. You pulled the phone away from your ear, not even hearing a dial tone. You messed with the phone for a moment before realizing the line was dead.

"Diane?" you called out, sticking your head around the corner.

Diane was right there, breathing heavy as if she had been running. She startled you and you stared at her, mindlessly passing the phone to her.

"Your phone line went dead," you mumbled.

Diane put the phone to her ear and pressed a few buttons before hanging up.

"I'll call the phone company in the morning. Sometimes someone hits a line and the whole thing goes dead. Were you able to call your friend though?" she asked, leaning against the wall.

You noticed she said friend this time, but you brushed it off. She didn't know the bond you and Mandy shared.

"Yes! I did. I'm going to meet her tomorrow for lunch."

Diane didn't hid her discomfort this time.

"Y/n, I don't think that's a good idea. You're still very weak. You didn't even eat dinner. I don't think you should go out by yourself. Maybe I should go with-"

"No. It's okay. I'll be fine for a couple of hours. I won't be running a marathon, just having a coffee with my sister."

You wanted to spend time with Mandy by yourself and while you appreciated the thought of Diane going with you, you were still an adult no matter how young you looked. It didn't help that at the moment the brownie batter was now fighting against you and you were hunched over slightly.

"Well maybe consider letting me drive you to town? I need to run some errands anyway so I can drive you and that way if you feel like you need to lay down or rest I wouldn't be far."

You would need a ride to town, but you just weren't sure.

"Let me sleep on it. I hate to think I would be using you just for a ride. And-" before you could finish, you start having a coughing fit. Coughing was nothing new to you thanks to the asthma, but this wasn't that. This was the batter.

You tried to keep it down, but it was too late. You threw up, all over yourself, all over the floor, and even on Diane's slippers. You expelled everything you had eaten that day and more and it took a moment before you stopped gagging, laying in a ball on the floor.

Suddenly fear over took you as you saw yourself and the floor covered in vomit. You know your mom would be so mad when she saw it and you would get punished. You didn't want to be punished. You began to cry and you scooted away until your body hit the wall.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to," you cried. You forgot where you were and suddenly you were back at home. You didn't like going back.

Diane quickly ran over to you, not phased by the vomit and held you in her arms. You fought her off at first but she shooshed you and smoothed your hair, holding you close to her. She knew a flashback when she saw one. She held you and whispered in your ear. It took a moment but eventually you came back to present day. You still felt sick, you now smelled awful, your head hurt, and you were embarrassed. For the first time since you had met Diane, you felt tears prickle you eyes and instead of hiding them, you let them flow.

You cried in Diane's arms as she rocked you back in forth, and you apologized over and over again. You weren't sure if you were saying sorry because you had thrown up on her or if it was because she lost her daughter or because you were the mess of a person she felt fate brought her. She kissed your head and took your face in her hands. She wiped your tears with the pads of her thumb and looked at you with tears in her eyes too.

"Hey. It's okay. Stop apologizing. You're safe now Y/n."

She pulled you back to her chest again and wrapped her arms around you tight as if she would never let you go.

"I've got you," she whispered, over and over.

"I've got you, and I'm not letting go."

[flowerwrites06]

mint ocean — myg

Plot: Yoongi clashes with a lyricist. 

Pairing(s): Music Major!Yoongi x Lyricist!OC (Name: Kiku) 

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 3k+

Genre: College | Fluff/Angst

Tags & Warnings: coarse language, sexual references.

Authors Note: i didn’t realize people would like this little oneshot so much but here you go! 

“Another party?” Yoongi scorned, throwing his head back as he sat on the chair trying to rest his eyes from the books in front of him. How Namjoon managed to organize so many fucking parties in a year almost terrified the mint-haired male. “Didn’t you just have one like yesterday? With the jelly shots and shit.”

“Yoongi, that was a month ago.” Namjoon corrected, fixing his pink tresses while looking at the mirror. “I think it’s nice to have gatherings…you know to consolidate relationships.”

He scoffed obnoxiously. “You just want to fuck that singer with her little plaid skirt still on.”

The younger male immediately glared at his roommate. “Don’t talk about Minnie like that. She’s a nice girl, alright?”

Despite the light smirk on his face, Yoongi took a step back from his commenting. He didn’t know too much about the girl truly but from what he saw she was extremely beautiful to say the least and had a kind smile. He never really talked to her one on one. “So what’re you trying this time?”

“I’m not trying anything, it’s just doing a bit of socializing.” He shrugged.

Yoongi gagged mockingly at the ‘s’ word. His pink haired counterpart definitely proved to have more social skills in his one pinky finger than he did in his whole body. Which was something he both envied and took pride in. Knowing people was always beneficial clearly since Namjoon got a lot of opportunities from it but interacting with far too many people meant being worried about too many useless feelings. “I’m only coming for the shots.” He mumbled, tapping his pen against the open notebook scribbled with a few bits from yesterday’s lecture.

Namjoon chuckled. “You say that but I still manage to see a pretty someone sneaking out of your room in the morning.”

He pointed at the man with his pen. “It’s ‘cause of the shots.”

“Sure.” He grinned knowing the mint-haired male despite his demeanor did like a little bit of attention when it came to him.

-

“A party?” Kiku peered through the glass, whispering in the serene silence of the library while skimming through a few sources for her next essay. Blue tresses falling over her face despite the loose restraint of her long ponytail.

Minnie nodded sitting on the other side with her laptop open on her right and her notebook adorned with the neatest writing. “Namjoon said it was a small gathering so no need to worry about too much noise and all that.”

“You know what he’s trying to do, don’t you?” She leaned in so she could raise her voice a little but not have it echo throughout the entire room.

“Not this again.” She lowered her head, doodling a little on the corner of her page with her brunette waves framing her face.

“Please tell me you’re being careful.” Kiku searched the others’ expression. Namjoons’ intentions were a little blurry since she found him to be a decent student at least in the music classes and various music projects they shared. But anyone could be great at school work and terrible at treating women. It made her extremely suspicious especially since his attempts always involved a party with booze.

“Of course I’m being careful.” Minnie muttered, tapping her pen against the table. “There’s nothing wrong with going to a party.”

“A lot of college girls would disagree.” Bitterness laced in her tone as she scribbled a few words on the corner of her notebook maybe hoping to add some of them in the new song.

“Namjoon isn’t like that. He fights about stuff like that, you should hear the kind of music he makes.” Minnie defended.

Kiku sighed. “Speaking of music…how did they like the song?”

“They loved it as usual.” Though the girl did not sound enthusiastic in the slightest. “How long do you expect to keep your identity secret from everyone else? What if someone finds out before you can come out?”

“Then they find out.” She shrugged. “Everyone loves you and your voice. Let them think it’s some mystery producer that no one knows about.”

Their conversation got shorter and shorter about this whole situation. Minnie would try to convince her to show her real self to the public instead being under an alias. Kiku simply suggested that she preferred not being bothered about her songs. Writing songs without the credit allowed her to be more personal.

“Will you at least come to the party with me then?” Her expression grew a little desperate. Okay she did really like Namjoon. The two had been conversing and trying to spend time with each other for a couple of months now. “It’ll be better if you were there so nothing bad happened.” Namjoon would never let anything bad happen but it was more to reassure Kiku.

After a moment of thought, the blue haired girl spoke. “Fine. An hour.”

-

Regret seeped into Kiku’s body quicker than she expected when they walked into the loud and slightly crowded house. Minnie held onto her hand tightly to ensure no one got lost as they slid through following Namjoon to a circle of couches. Sweaty bodies all around them, Kiku wished she had not just opted for a fitted crop top and some baggy pants.

“You can sit here.” The pink haired male smiled patting the space next to him.

Kiku suppressed the urge to roll her eyes as she sat on the other side of Minnie, eyes struggling to meet the gazes of all the people in the group. Two girls were sat around a mint-haired male while two other boys sat on the floor in front of the coffee table centering them. If it weren’t for the loud music and people making babies in the kitchen then this would have resembled a quiet game night.

“Minnie, you know Yoongi.” Namjoon spoke softly gesturing towards the mint-haired male who gave the two a small smirk. “I made him listen to your songs, he loves it.”

She giggled nervously while Kiku merely smiled. “Thank you.”

“You write really well seriously.” Yoongi commented, eyes flickering over to the full head of grey-ish blue sitting quietly next to her friend. “What’s your source?”

“Honestly my producer writes most of the lyrics.” Minnie kept her voice pretty gentle despite the booming of the beats. She accidentally glanced over at Kiku when talking about her producer. “She’s the talented one.”

“Well you’re the one who’s singing it. Otherwise it’s just a bunch of random words on paper, isn’t it? A page from a diary instead of a real song.”

Namjoons’ smile disappeared hearing his friends’ comment and attempting to give him a warning look but Yoongi did not see him.

“Lyrics are still important though.” Minnie explained softly, not really wanting to see Kiku’s reaction anymore.

“Yeah they are.” Namjoon continued knowing Yoongi thought the same thing.

“Of course…when added. By itself, it’s nothing.”

“They can’t just be ‘nothing’” Minnie still smiled and it made Namjoon even more angry at his friend.

He knew Yoongi despised these parties and made it a mission to show how bad they can get but in front of the girl he liked?

“He’s right.” Kiku spoke up this time, all of their eyes flickered over to her now.

Minnie’s brows furrowed silently trying to tell her not to bring herself down in that manner. So many people found it easy to diss on her lyrical ability because she never actually showed herself to them. So they both had to quietly sit there and tolerate the incessant commenting until headaches ensued.

“Lyrics are nothing but random words without the song.” Kiku continued with a neutral expression. “Just like rappers are nothing but drug using whores that talk fast.” She smiled at the man whose smirk slowly disappeared. “Or MIDI producers are nothing but fingers tapping on a fake keyboard.”

Her comment injected silence amongst the group including a proper glare from Yoongi. One of the girls muttered something about Kiku being extremely rude while Minnie did not know what to feel. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

Barely ten minutes into the party, Kiku already regretted being there and even trying to converse with someone who had the personality of a grain of sand. What kind of a music student talks about lyrics like that? Who the fuck did he think he was? Lyrics took so much time and energy. She could not even count the amount of times she cried or got angry whenever she wrote them.

“I need to go check on her.” Minnie muttered to Namjoon gently. “Sorry.” She touched his arm lightly hoping he understood why she had to prioritize Kiku tonight. Aside from literally helping her in her career, she always tried to keep her safe no matter what.

Namjoon stammered as the wonderful girl walked away from him to check on her friend. An immediate glare now shot to Yoongi.

“What?” The mint-haired male winced. “She said things too.”

“Because you were acting like an idiot with Minnie.”

“I’m not the one who’s desperate to impress her.” Yoongi shrugged.

“That doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be rude. You’re my best friend, I wanted you to like her too.”

The older male sighed as one of the girls leaned in to tell him it was okay but he knew it wasn’t. If Yoongi—god forbid—ever wanted to be with someone seriously then Namjoon’s approval would be top priority. The two went through so much together and there was no reason to dedicate themselves to someone if the other didn’t like them. Namjoon must have really liked Minnie for him to be so adamant on Yoongi liking her too.

Slithering through the heated crowd, Kiku finally stumbled towards the drink table where she poured herself a glass of vodka and some cranberry juice. She hated how one simple conversation still lingered in her mind like a disease. Hopefully a few chugs of the funny tasting juice burned through most of the memory.

“Hey…” A slurred voice lingered on her left followed by a trail of alcohol stench breath infecting the air in her personal space. “What’re you sitting here so lonely for?” The snap back man hummed sneaking closer so his shoulder almost pressed against hers.

Kiku immediately moved away with a roll of her eyes as she attempted to walk back to the circle of couches. But something held her arm back. “Don’t touch me.” She yanked away from his grip, briskly walking towards the couches now until she saw Minnie walk straight towards her.

“I thought you left.” Minnie smiled a little, moving the pair over next to the stairs where there was less of a crowd. “Look don’t worry about what Yoongi said, okay?”

“I’m not worried about him.” She shook her head, feeling like her words were a lie. “People have said worse. I honestly expected worse, he’s kinda soft isn’t he?”

“Hey! I was fucking talking to you.” The same slurring man stumbled towards the pair again, standing uncomfortably close to Kiku. “Do you know who I fucking am?”

“Someone who desperately needs a mint and better social skills.” Kiku snapped in a gently vicious demeanor which of course only angered the stinking beast. He grabbed her by her arms again this time enough to cause pain before trying to slam her against the side of the stairs.

Before Minnie could jump in, the attacker was pushed off of her and dropped onto the ground with a thud causing a deafening silence amongst the crowd including the music.

Standing in front of Kiku­­—at least from where she could see–leather jacket and a head of mint hair, back facing her.

“You know the rules, Kwan.” Yoongi spoke calmly though his body radiated even more frustration than normal. The party was irritating enough but a few frat guys seemed to think it was a breeding ground for assault. “Play nice or get out.”

Kiku rubbed her sore arm absentmindedly as she watched the drunkard struggle back on his feet while all eyes were on him in judgement. Namjoon already stood by Minnie’s side keeping a close gaze on Kwan.

“Just having a bit of fun, Min. No harm.” Kwans’ reddened eyes flickered over to Kiku who only glared back at him.

“I feel bad for everyone who had the misfortune of fucking you if you thought that was fun.” Yoongi smirked. “You had your drinks, get out.” He nodded to the exit.

Kwan looked around at all the faces staring right at him knowing it would be embarrassing to be chased out in this manner but even more so if he just stood here. So he simply chose the first option and walked away.

Once the beast was gone, everyone quite easily faded back into their normal atmosphere of dancing and drinking while Yoongi turned to face Kiku.

“Good rule.” Kiku muttered, folding her arms over her chest.

“Kwan just invites himself sometimes.” He glanced over at the entrance to check if he was out yet before facing the girl again. The question lingered at the tip of his tongue for a while before he spoke. “You okay?”

She nodded though her arms still had a dull ache.

“You think you should stay here for the night?” Namjoon suggested glancing over at Minnie.

Kiku slowly held onto Minnie’s hand. “No, that’s fine.”

“Ku, it’s okay.” She muttered, patting the back of her hand.

“Sorry that didn’t sound right.” He scratched his head, chuckling nervously.

“What my awkward friend is trying to say is Kwan might still wait outside after the party’s done so you can stay here till morning. We’ll sleep on the couch and you can take our rooms.” He gestured upstairs. “Gonna take all night to clean this shit up anyway.” He glared at the clear mess of booze and a few bras on the floor.

The more cautious side of her screamed to the top about a possible trap which may lead to extra problems then just going back to their dorms. But not a lot of frat boys would place literal protection rules in their house during parties. Hell they would be just as drunk and intense as that Kwan idiot. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea staying. Besides Kiku brought her work in her bag just in case the party got boring anyway.

Still keeping a firm grasp on Minnie’s hand, she nodded. “Okay.”

-

The party settled down after a few hours and all was left were the remnants of a whole lot of bad decisions. Kiku even spotted a used condom laying around on the hallways as they were led to the two bedrooms.

“Fucking hell…” Namjoon hissed looking inside his room making Minnie giggle a little.

“I told you to lock your room.” Yoongi spoke as he unlocked the door and led Kiku inside his private room.

A little untidy which was not surprising. His study table littered with papers either readings from his units or just scribbles that were hard to decipher. Bed somewhat unmade and his closet overflowing with unfolded clothes.

Yeah it was a mess. But Kiku couldn’t really judge him, it was heavy assignment season and her side of the dorm looked exactly like this too. Pushing off her shoes she placed it neatly next to the door. Padding over to the bed she sat down quietly while Yoongi grabbed whatever he needed so he didn’t have to disturb the girl.

“If you get hungry, there’s—water in the mini fridge.” He smiled nervously as he looked inside the little bar.

“Good to know.” She couldn’t help but mimic the smile.

“You can—use a T-shirt or something if you want for sleeping. Use the ones on the rack.” He gestured over to the closet. There was a subtle awkwardness behind him that Kiku could not understand considering how he acted in the party tonight. Did he never have guests in his bedroom before? Or maybe at this point he would be doing something else with the guest by now instead of acquainting them to the area.

Either way Kiku felt kind of safe with this new side of his behavior. “Thanks.”

Yoongi hummed in acknowledgement before padding out of the room, cursing a little under his breath at the mess made.

-

The whole night spent out with Kiku working more on her essay and then proceeded to jot down some ideas for Minnie’s songs. She tried to label them properly so she didn’t mix up the school work from the paid work. Sleeping in someone’s else bed proved to be more difficult than she expected despite putting on a comfortable black T-shirt that was offered to her kindly.

The surface of the bed was now just as littered as his study table but it allowed Kiku to concentrate a bit better.

Rummaging and vacuuming echoed throughout the whole frat house which would have been distracting if Kiku did not feel bad for the boys having to clean all that mess by themselves. They did organize the party but the aftermath still was not deserving of anyone.

Fixing her glasses back up on her nose bridge, the door opened behind her with a messy haired and clearly annoyed looking Yoongi walking through.

“Sleep well?” He asked.

“Didn’t really sleep.” Kiku smiled nervously. “You could’ve just slept here, you know.”

“Would you have been able to resist my charms?” The cheekiness seemed to seep in a lot more when he was in an inconvenient position.

“It would have been incredibly difficult but I could power through.” She stretched a fake grin before looking back at her work.

Yoongis’ eyes flickered over at some bold words written ‘For Minnie’ with a pending title next to it. Brows furrowed and head tilted, he looked closer at the words on the page. “Is that a—is that a song?”

Her heart jumped quickly looking at the page and trying to grab it but Yoongi beat her to it. Kiku practically flew off the bed, following the mint-haired male to try get the lyrics back. “This is invasion of privacy.”

“You’re in my bedroom.” He retorted, still reading the words intently. “And all you did was study…well—study and write a whole ass song, do you do this often?”

The blue haired girl averted her gaze in annoyance. “Yes, I write a couple of her songs.”

“A couple?” Yoongi raised a brow. “Funny, the last time I checked the credit for all her songs there were only two producers. Minnie and someone called Chrys.” His bottom lips jutted out skimming through the song again. “I just thought it was a fancy way to make Chris interesting but I’m guessing it’s short for Chrysanthemum. As in…Kiku.” He smirked handing the paper over to her now.

“You feel real smart, don’t you?” Kiku took her paper back and stuffed it back into her files before tidying everything else up.

“Not that smart. I’m surprised people don’t talk about you more.” He shrugged, fluffing up his hair a little.

“Well it’s like you said…” Kiku sighed. “Lyrics are nothing but words on a page, right? Why would people talk about me at all?” She smiled sadly, keeping her gaze on her things rather than the mint-haired male. This partnership and her own decision went on successfully for a long time without the girl feeling like she was being exploited or taken advantage of. Why was it that saying all of this to Yoongi out loud made the whole thing sound so wrong now?

Yoongi let out a deep sigh as his words replayed back in his head. “I didn’t actually mean to say that.” He muttered a little shyly. “I was…” Wow he sounded so stupid already. “I was just trying to be an asshole.”

“It worked.” Kiku unzipped her bag before facing him again. “But you made up for it too so it’s okay.”

He nodded before rubbing his face out of exhaustion. “Your lyrics are really good though. I’m not surprised you’re the only producer Minnie trusts.”

“Are you just being nice now?”

“No that’s too fucking tiring.” Yoongi chuckled and she couldn’t help letting one out as well.

“Thank you…again.” Kiku played with her fingers. “Did you need some help with the cleaning?”

“Namjoon owes me a few hours of cleaning, he decided to abandon me for a while to f—uh entertain Minnie.” He gestured towards the door.

Kiku raised her brows not being able to control the small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “So are you here to entertain me now?” She teased.

“No, no no—oh…” Yoongi cleared his throat.

“Don’t freak out, I won’t pounce on you or anything.” Kiku giggled lightly. “Besides seeing the girls who were stuck to you at the party you and I wouldn’t work.”

“And why’s that?” Eyes unintentionally flickered up and down her body. It only took him now to see his T-shirt hugging her curvy body, plump boobs and luscious curves poking out even in the slimming color.

“One too many assholes spoil the soup.” She pretended not to see that wild gaze running down her form.

“On the contrary, it makes it more tasteful.” He smirked. “You know…spicy.”

“Spicy…” Kiku chuckled. “Sure.” She turned on her heel to check on Minnie, fully aware that Yoongis’ wild eyes would follow down.

You’re a respectful man, Yoongi. Put your eyes away. It didn’t really help when that beautiful ass swayed as she walked and her gorgeous waves bouncing a little. Fuck he wanted some of that soup.

[all1e23]

Chocolate Dipped

Pairings: Sugar Daddy!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Steve has finally had enough of these two idiots. 

Warnings:  Angsty stuff. 

A/N:   I am feeling better! Just in time to make you guys cry for Christmas. This is in Steve’s POV at the start. I think I grabbed everyon’s tags but I was pretty sick this week. If I forgot to add you please shoot me an ask and I’ll correct it today. Also, half edited. I got lazy. lol If you like it come sing me a song, write me a story or scream at me!  This is the sixth part of my series Sugary Sweet. Make sure you catch up!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!***

“You goin’ home tonight, buck?” 

Steve hung around the doorway to Bucky’s office, hovering like a worried parent. The small room was lived in. Two weeks have passed since they attended Stark’s gala, and Bucky made it a point to work himself to death every single day since. There were cartons upon cartons of takeout, guest pillows from his penthouse on the leather couch that sat under the large windows on the south wall, and Steve caught Bucky wearing the same white button-up three days in a row. 

Bucky was avoiding something, and Steve had a decent idea of what that ‘something’ was. 

“Hm?” Bucky mumbled, barely looking up from his computer as he did. “Uh, no. Not tonight. I want to get this done for the Danvers account.” 

Steve sighed as he spun his keys around his fingers, debating how far he could push this before he drove Bucky away. 

“We have people who do that now, Buck. Go home and get some sleep. Wash your hair.” 

To Steve’s delight, Bucky looked up, humor lighting up his eyes and smile curling up the corners of his mouth. 

“You sayin’ I look bad, Stevie?” 

Steve forced through his concern long enough to grin. 

“I’m saying you haven’t been home since you broke up with Y/n. Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”

Bucky’s smile fell the moment Steve said her name, and his eyes fell back on his computer. He wasn’t going to talk about Y/n or their arrangement. There was nothing to say. It was never a real relationship as much as Bucky wanted it to be, so there was no reason to treat it as such. 

“I don’t have anything to say about it. There was no break-up. It was a temporary situation, and it’s passed. Let’s all move on with our lives.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“Goodnight, Steven.”

The quiet tug of the door and the hitch of the latch echoes in Bucky’s empty office, leaving him alone in the darkened building. He knew Steve was trying to help, but Steve wasn’t. Bucky didn’t need to be babysat. He needed to go back to that coffee shop, pay for your coffee, and walk away before he let his heart fall yours. Yeah, he knew sulking in his office wasn’t going to fix anything, but he couldn’t face going home. Your toothbrush was still hanging next to his, that drawer in his dresser was full of your clothes, and there was the picture of the two of you resting on the nightstand. Taking down the pictures in his office was bad enough; at least here, the sheets didn’t smell like you.

It has been weeks when the hell was he going to get over you?

Bucky really hoped it would be soon. 

The bar was packed. No stool was empty, and the floor was full of kids half his age waiting for what was probably their first beer. Steve groaned. Dealing with grumpy Bucky and now this was completely unfair. The loud cheering made Steve wince as he pushed towards the middle of the crowd, it was hard to see through the crowd of twenty-year-olds, and he has never felt quite as old as he did at that moment. 

When did he become this grumpy old man? He blamed Bucky. 

Steve caught his wife’s whistle and grinned when he spotted her in one of those half booths that no one actually enjoys sitting at. 

“How is he?” 

Steve sighed and placed a kiss on her cheek as he squeezed into the seat next to her. That was a loaded question. He gripped his wife’s legs and pulled them over his lap, tucking her under his arm. Steve was going to make the most of the dollhouse-sized booth. 

“He’s… a mess. I know he misses her, but he won’t talk about it. I’m not sure what happened, but I don’t think it was a clean break like he’s making it sound.” 

“Do you think she left him?” 

He shook his head.  

No, Steve knew Bucky well enough to know guilt when he saw it. 

“I think Bucky didn’t speak up when he should have is what I think, and maybe she got tired of waiting to be more than a game.” 

Steve took a sip of Sharon’s red wine and made a face. She grinned and ran her fingers through his bread, scratching gently until he hummed softly and leaned into her touch.

“Well, I think,” Sharon whispered, watching the sleepy smile tug at Steve’s lips. “We are stuck sitting at the bar. The dining room is full of what appears to be teenagers. Somehow when we weren't looking, we became the oldest people in the room. It's a tiny booth or share a table with strangers.” 

“That’s alright. We can stay right here.” Steve nudged her chin up with two fingers and smiled. “I like being stuck with you.” 

“You think that sweet talk is going to get you somewhere?” 

“Pretty confident. Bucky taught me all I know."  

Steve grinned and pecked her lips.

A loud voice interrupted Steve’s train of thought and he couldn't help but listen in. 

“Look, if fancy man bun can’t see how awesome you are, then you don’t need to waste your time on him.” Steve tried to fight his smile. Whoever that was, he wouldn’t mind sharing a table with them.

“But… I think I love him.”

Steve froze when he heard your voice, and he subtly peeked over his shoulder to find you sitting at a table nearby. You weren’t alone. There was a blond guy he didn’t know, his arm was around your redheaded friend that scared the life out of him sometimes, Nat he was pretty sure, and another red-haired woman he didn’t know. He turned back around before you caught him spying, and he tried to listen over the boisterous shouts and loud, obnoxious music.

This was getting ridiculous. He was getting too old to go to places like this.

“And that sucks,” The guy continued."He’s shit for dragging you along because he knew how you felt. Everyone knew. I’m not saying marry Johnny Lightning--”

You were talking about Bucky.

“Storm.”

“Storm. Whatever. I’m not saying marry him, but it will help take your mind off the asshole who broke your heart.”

“First of all, I only know his name. I don’t have his number because I don’t want to go out with him, Clint. I don’t want anyone else. Can we just stop talking about this, please? It’s bad enough you drug me out of my nice warm bed and made come here. Please stop talking about Bucky.”

“I wasn’t going to let you hide in bed for the rest of your life,” The woman -- Nat, said with a hint of venom in her voice. “I wish you would have talked to him like I told you to. Something is off about this whole thing.”

“I didn’t have time! Things were over before I realized they were.”

“You could go talk to him now?”

“What’s the point? He’s obviously done with whatever we were. I haven’t heard from him in days.”

Bucky was the one that broke up with you? Steve hadn’t expected that, but perhaps he should have.

Steve fidgeted enough to wiggle his phone out of his pocket, silently quieting Sharon before she could make a fuss and draw your attention. He snapped a picture over his shoulder, even though he shouldn’t. You were staring at rose necklace Bucky gave you in Boston while your friends chatted amongst themselves, your eyes were red and puffy like you had been crying non-stop for days. You looked incredibly lonely for someone sitting in the middle of a crowded bar and surrounded by friends.

He dropped the image into a message and sent it off to Bucky.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

Steve placed a kiss on Sharon’s head and slid out of the booth, smiling at her confusion. He walked straight to your table and stopped next to you, making a point to get his shoes and black dress pants in your line of vision. You looked up, and your fingers slipped off the necklace, your mouth fell open and stuttered incoherently.

“Y/n, I think we should talk.”

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

Across town, Bucky sat in his office, still sitting at his desk hours after Steve left him only now he was staring at his phone instead of his computer. Bucky hasn’t been able to look away from the damn thing since Steve’s text came in over twenty minutes ago. You looked good. Great. A little sad, maybe, but beautiful. He read Steve’s words one more time, and his heart clenched again.

She doesn’t look like someone who moved on. I think you left a few things out of the story.

So he did leave some things out. It was his right to leave out whatever he wanted to. Steve didn’t need to know why things didn’t work out. It wouldn’t change the outcome.

“Hi.”

Bucky’s fingers shook at the sound of your voice, so much so he dropped his phone back onto his desk. You stood in the doorway to his office, fidgeting and uncomfortable. You were still in that little black dress you were wearing in the photo, so you must have come straight from the bar. Bucky slowly leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued to yours.  

“Hi… what are you doing here? How did you get in?”

You looked guilty, and Bucky had to fight back a grin.

“Steve gave me his ID.”

You held up a little white card as an explanation and gave him that same shy, nervous smile you gave him when he offered to pay for your coffee all those months ago. Steve could never just mind his own damn business. Nosy little punk. 

Bucky should probably thank him for meddling this one time -- depending on how the rest of this night goes.

“Of course, he did.”

You took a few steps in, just enough that you could place the card on Bucky’s desk a keep your distance. Bucky watched your eyes scan his desk for your missing pictures, and he wanted to jump in and tell you they were on the bookshelf behind him now. They were hard to look at it all the time now. He saw relief flood you as you spotted them.

He still didn’t understand why you were here.

“Is everything okay, sweet girl?”

The name just slipped out. Bucky hadn’t meant it to. You weren’t… well, you weren’t anything anymore, and he didn’t have a right to call you pet names, but he couldn’t help it. Bucky wanted to call his sweet girl forever. Would have, too, if only the stars had aligned the way Bucky had wanted.

Bucky watched you as hesitated. You took a step forward and then stopped as if you were trying to decide where to go, towards him or out the door. He saw the conflict in your eyes as you fought with yourself, and then you stood up taller with your shoulders squared, having made your choice. You strode towards Bucky with determination, walking around his desk, and Bucky pushed off from his feet, letting his chair roll back enough to give you the space you needed-- wanted.

He hoped it was what you wanted.

Bucky didn’t move or make a sound. Just held his breath and waited.

You sank down on his lap, straddling his waist as you’ve done during the hundreds of times you’ve visited him in his office. Bucky waited until you settled comfortably, and his hands came up to wrap around you and rest against your backside. Your own find their favorite spot tangled in his hair, and the tears catching in your lashes were caught right away.

It took every ounce of strength he had not to lean in and kiss those tears away.

“You left.” You whimpered. “Just disappeared and stopped talking to me like we were never… something.”

Bucky’s heart twisted into something dark and ugly. He hadn’t thought there was much to say. Things had been off since he came home from Boston, and then that boy, he didn’t think there was anything left after that.

“I thought--” Bucky’s arms tightened around you, fingers pressed into your skin as he forced himself to admit what he was scared of since he first met you -- you didn’t really want him. 

“I thought maybe you liked that kid from the gala. He's closer to your age and… he could be someone who wants the same things you want. I didn’t want you to feel like you were stuck with me if you didn’t want-- if this was temporary. I thought that’s what you wanted.”  

“No, that’s not what I want.”

Bucky swiped his thumb under your right eye, wiping away the tears he could no longer stand to see. He didn’t know how to ask if you loved him or how to tell you that he wanted more, but this? He knew this. Bucky’s spent the last eight months asking you want you wanted and doing everything he could to give it to you.

He could do this.

“What do you want, babygirl? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

There was only one thing you wanted.

“I want you to love me,” you choked out in a desperate, hopeless plea. “I want you to love me like I love you. I want you to be in love with me.”

“Oh, baby.”

Bucky cupped the back of your neck and let the other rest on your back, firmly holding you in place on his lap. This was something he should have said months ago.

“I’ve been in love with you for months. Maybe since I bought you that first cup of coffee and you looked at me with those sweet lips and pouty eyes. You’ve had my love, sweet girl.”

You sniffed and took a breath, your bottom lip still trembling as you twisted over his words.

“But-- I, I heard you telling you Sharon you didn’t want a future with me.”

Bucky’s nose crinkled, and his brow furrowed. “What? What are you talkin’ about, baby?”

“In Boston. That night you were drinking at the bar. I came down to… to see you, and you said you didn’t want a family right now and not with me.”

Bucky was smiling, and he could tell by your pout you were about to jump off his lap because of it. He couldn’t help it. This was good. The best news he has heard in weeks. This was all because he was an idiot, and he could fix that. He could stop being an idiot. Bucky took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around your waist, letting the chair lean back all the way, so you fell against his chest, and your feet came off the floor just enough to make you unstable if you tried to get up on your own.

He needed you to stay put a little longer, and if you wanted to leave after he said his peace, he would let you go.

"Did you hear what I said after that?”

“No," you squeaked. “I ran back up to our-- your room.”

“Our room.” He corrected.

"Our room." You amended. "Then you came up and we-- Well, we made-- we..."

Bucky didn't need you to say anymore. He remembered. Bucky absolutely remembered making love to you. He held you against him and carefully explained what really happened that night.

“I did say that, but that wasn’t what I meant. It came out all wrong, and you'll be happy to know Steve and Sam would beat my ass to defend you without a second thought. What I meant and what I explained to them that night was I wanted to wait until you were ready for all that because if I’m going to do all that? Get married and have kids; I only want to do it with you.”

You groaned and thumped your head against his chest. “Why is Nat always right? She said you didn’t mean it. That it was a mistake.”  

Bucky chuckled quietly. His fingers gently rubbed at your scalp, and his lips found your skin, pressing soft kisses to your temple. “Probably because she could see it written on my face. According to Sam, I look like a lovesick idiot every time you’re near me.”

Forcing yourself to lift your head, you met his eyes and whispered,” Bucky, I do love you, and I don’t want that dumb bellhop from Boston or any other guy. You’re all I want, but I’m not ready to get married right now. I know you are, and if you want all that right now-- I don’t know, okay? I graduate in May, and then I want to work and-- and --I don’t think I can--”

Bucky’s thumb settled over your lips, stopping your panic.

“I know, and that’s why I said I wanted to wait. Let you find your footing in a new job and get yourself settled there before we even talk about it. I wanted to tell you all this in Boston. Tell you how much you mean to me. How you’re all, I think about, every damn day and the nights that I’m not with you are like torture.”

Your eyes twinkled with someone Bucky didn’t like, and his cheeks warmed right away.

“So that was the whole picnic thing? And renting out the skywalk?”

Bucky nodded sheepishly.

“I might have chickened out. I was worried you didn’t feel the same, and I wasn’t ready to lose you.”

One thing was certain; you were made for each other. You were both idiots.

“So, you do see a future with me?” You asked, nerves showing through your shaky voice. You needed to be sure. You couldn’t go through all that again. 

“You weren’t just changing the subject with sex every time?”

Bucky barked out a laugh, the chair under you shaking from the force of it. You pursed your lips. He didn’t have to laugh so hard. It was a serious question. Bucky gave your hip an apologetic squeeze and shook his head.

“No, I didn’t mean to do that. It was incredibly sexy to hear you say you only wanted... me. You could have asked me for anything, and you just wanted me. I like that."

“It’s true, though. I don’t want any of that other stuff. You’re the only thing I want, Buck.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened, and his hand slipped under the hemline of your dress. “Somethin’ you want… right now?”

Your slender fingers gripped his wrist, and you shook your head. “Nope. What I want right now is to get you home, shower, and maybe sleep till late tomorrow. I haven’t-- I haven’t been sleeping great lately.”

The confession made Bucky remember how terrible he probably looked from his own sleeping habits over the past eighteen days. The last he saw in the bathroom mirror, the dark circles under his eyes, were getting pretty hard to hide. His beard was unkempt and thick and Steve wasn’t wrong about needing to wash his hair. He raised the arm you were still clutching and pressed a kiss to your fingers.

“This how it’s going to work from now on? Just goin’ tell me what to do all the time?”

“Yep. That’s how it works when I’m your girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen dramatically, and Bucky grins.

“I am… I mean, it’s okay I said that, right?”

“Well, you are my girl.”

Bucky can feel your tension deflate, and he really likes the smile on your face.

“Mmm, and you’re my sugar. My sweet fella.”

[onlydreamofmysoul]

Fairytale (Ficmas #8 Solangelo)

My solangelo boys are back!! This is set with them as mortals but like that’s as much as I thought about it, there’s really noting specific to know! Anyways my two boys had to make an appearance!

It wasn’t that Nico hated Christmas.

The holiday himself he could actually get on board with. Presents, family, all that crap. He even liked all the lights and sparkly things. Not that he’d ever admit to that part, but he did. It was the chaos he despised. People everywhere, everyone suddenly losing the concept of personal space. Nico was not on board with that.

So his dread for one of the busiest times of the year somehow gave the impression that he hated all Christmas related things. And his friends being, well being his friends meant that their personal mission was to make him love Christmas.

“Hey Nico!” Jason yelled, cranking up the volume of the radio. “This is like the best Christmas song, you can’t say you don’t like this!”

Fairytale of New York was playing. Nico actually loved this song. Cursing and getting to call it festive? Sign him up. He did however, have  a reputation to uphold.

“Try not to burst those eardrums.” He drawled, rolling his eyes. “We don't need you deaf as well as blind.” He said, referencing Jason’s new glasses.

“Ha ha ha.” Jason said sarcastically, but he turned the volume down a little. Nico looked away so he could hide his smile.

“You know, the first Christmas trees can actually be traced back to ancient Greece and Egypt.” Annabeth chattered as Nico accompanied her on their quest to find the star in Sally Jackson’s attic. 

“Yeah?” He prompted. He didn’t have to say much with Annabeth, but he liked that, they had an easy relationship. She always understood him, but she never flaunted it, just made sure he knew she was always there for him.

“Mhm,” She continued, tongue poking out as she dug through one box. “Although the trees like we know them today began in Germany in the 1500’s.”

“Huh.” Nico said. A gold point dug into his hand and after the initial quick draw back of his arm, he peered into the box and carefully pulled out the delicate decoration.

“Got it.” 

Annabeth looked up and grinned. “Amazing. I need to get away from all this dust.”

Nico just nodded his agreement, and followed her back down to the warm rooms below.

“Hey Nico, wanna help me make cookies?” Percy called from the kitchen, already putting on his blue apron.

Nico wandered into the kitchen and hopped up on the counter, stealing some chocolate chips. “No, but I’ll watch.”

Percy snatched the chocolate away from him. “Watch does not mean eat. I can’t make chocolate chip cookies if you eat all the chocolate chips.”

Nico shrugged. “Have you tired?” He asked, managing to take back the chips. “Because there’s really only one way to find out.”

Percy ended up smashing a chocolate bar. Nico enjoyed some very good chocolate chips.

“Here’s your one Nico!” Piper called, throwing him a very ugly and very itchy Christmas jumper. 

Nico looked at it’s offensively obnoxious colours and flashing lights and raised an eyebrow at Piper, looking at her right in the eye.

“Do you really think I’m going to wear this?”

Piper shook her head, chuckling. “Not at all. But it was worth a shot.”

Nico quirked a small smile at that. He could respect her attempt at least.

The doorbell rang and Nico’s heart stuttered. They were all staying at the Jackson’s for a couple of days and there was only one person who hadn’t arrived yet. Leo smiled at Piper and Nico ignored it, getting up and going straight to the door, seeing a blur of gold through the little fogged window. He threw the door open, and there was Will, a bag over his shoulder, a smile splitting his face from ear to ear.

“Hey Sunshine.” He drawled. Nico Helped him throw his rucksack on the floor, pulling the other boy into his arms.

“Miss me?” Will laughed as Nico tightened his grip around his waist. 

“No.” Nico scoffed, but he placed a kiss to the place where Will’s shoulder met his neck, right under where Nico’s lips rested.

Will pulled back, his long musician's fingers cupping Nico’s jaw as bright blue met deep brown.

“Well I sure missed you.”

Nico rolled his eyes, but leaned down so he could finally kiss his boyfriend. Will’s nose was cold where it nudged against Nico’s own, but his lips were warm and Nico just wanted to melt into him.

“Hey Will?” Leo asked, poking his head out of the living room. “It looks like you’ve got something on your face.”

Nico pulled away, turning slowly to glare at Leo.

“Hey Mr Mechanic?” Nico asked, his voice pleasant. “Don’t forget that I know where you sleep.”

Leo’s face paled and he vanished once more, Will bursting out laughing.

“Alright darlin’ are we going to go in or is this as much as the house I’ll be seeing for the duration of our stay?”

Nico turned back to look at Will, his arm still held tightly around his boyfriend's waist.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love it when you’re sarcastic?”

Will smirked, leaning in to press one more kiss to Nico’s lips.

“Once or twice.”

“Well I love it.”

“And I love you.”

Nico smiled, and this time he didn’t hide it from anyone. “I love you too.” He kissed Will on the cheek then grabbed his bag for him, leading him into the living room where everyone else waited.

Jason played Fairytale of New York again and Nico stooped down a little to rest his chin on Will’s shoulder as Will leaned back against him.

“I love this song.” Will hummed, beginning to sing along. His energy was infectious and soon almost everyone was half singing - half shouting the lyrics.

“When you first took my hand on that cold Christmas Eve, you promised me Broadway was waiting for me.”

Will turned in Nico’s hold to loop his arms loosely around his neck. 

“You were handsome!” Percy shouted.

“You were pretty!” Will continued, looking at Nico expectantly. Nico bit his lip and rolled his eyes, but tilted his head in acquiescence.

“Queen of New York City!”

Piper let out a whoop and Nico laughed, joining in for the rest of the song.

“Hey did you know it was the ancient Greeks and Egyptians who had the first Christmas trees?” Will asked as everyone was settling down to watch a movie.

Nico could practically hear Annabeth’s eyes lighting up.

“Yes!” She enthused as Nico rested his head on Will’s shoulder. “But the tree’s like we know them weren’t until the 16th century in Germany.”

“Yeah but they were decorated with fruit and nuts and stuff.” Nico said, half yawning as he pulled a blanket over himself and Will. He could feel everyone’s gaze on him and he looked up a little self consciously.

“What? I know things.”

Annabeth just smiled knowingly at him threading her fingers through Percy’s inky black hair.

“Okay guys, we need to take a picture of us all in our jumpers!” Piper said excitedly, already wearing hers and setting up the timer on the camera as even Sally and Paul came in for the picture.

“Oh we’re all matching!” Will enthused, holding up Nico’s as his was already on. “Come on sweetheart, just for a minute?”

Nico flipped off Leo, laughing in the corner as he shrugged on the ridiculous sweater.

“You’re so lucky I love you.” He muttered to Will as Piper wrapped an arm around his shoulders, Jason on her other side.

Will kissed his cheek. “Oh I know.”

“Dinner’s ready!” Sally yelled from the kitchen, the houses’ temporary inhabitants scattered throughout all the different rules.

“Oh my god yes.” Nico said, standing up from the couch, pulling Will up with him. “I would happily eat Sally’s food for the rest of my life.”

“What about McDonalds?” Will teased, tugging Nico’s hand playfully. Nico paused in the doorway, looking back at Will.

“Don’t make me choose.” He begged, hoping he could do that thing with his eyes that usually made people cave. Will was not people however.

“Hey Sunshine, you started this. Now Sally’s or McDonalds?”

Nico looked at the floor, scuffing his shoe against the floor. “Sally’s.” He grumbled. “But only for her cake.”

“Oh of course. God forbid there was actually a healthy reason in there.” Will teased, stepping closer, then glancing up.

“Hey look.” He whispered.

Nico did, spotting the red and green dangling from the doorframe.

“Mistletoe. Remind me not to walk through any door at the same time as Leo.”

Will tapped his arm lightly. “Hey!”

Nico grinned and looked back down, Will’s face only inches away from his own.

“Sorry babe.” He glanced back upwards and shrugged. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to ruin the festivities.” He reasoned.

“Of course not.” Will agreed, smiling and leaning closer until their lips brushed.

“Love you.” Nico breathed, just before sealing their lips properly, sliding his fingers into Will’s gorgeous curls.

“Hey guys, dinner!” Sally called once more, and Nico pulled away regretfully.

“Come on, food and then we can get back to this.”

Will beamed and followed him away from the mistletoe.

“Hey Neeks?” Nico glanced over.

“Yeah?”

“Love you too.”

All in all, Nico reasoned, Christmas really wasn’t all that bad.

[batarella]

I Don’t Hate You - Part 5 (Jason Todd x Reader)

will i ever find true love? with standards like this? will i ever find someone who’ll quench my thirst like jaybaby does?

nah.

(If you haven’t already noticed, since the reader is inspired by Jade West, ALL the songs in her singing scenes come from the covers by the iconic Liz Gillies! This one’s scene is inspired by Liz’s live story right here)

WORD: 6908 WARNINGS: EVEN MORE FLUFF BWAHAHAHAHA

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

Jason: ‘don’t do it.’

Jerry the science teacher was starting to catch on to him with Jason’s eyes darting to his crotch for no reason and his hand under the desk, but Jason managed to fool him by pulling out his notebook right where his phone was and pretended to take notes with his free hand. It was getting harder to hide it though, especially when he’d crack into a wide grin in the middle of a boring discussion all of a sudden. He looked like an idiot.

Y/N: ‘I’ll fucking do it.’

Jason: ‘she’ss a teaacher.’

Y/N: ‘that hasn’t stopped me before.’

Jason was writing scribbles onto his notebook at that point, lingering his eyes on the teacher for as long as he could while his other hand blindly texted barely readable typos. How were you able to text so well?

You sent another text before he could respond. ‘I’m totally doing it.’

Jason: ‘I’m sure she wasd looookin behind yuu’

Y/N: ‘no. she was definitely looking at me. Who else would she look at when she’s talking about baby murderers.’

Jason: ‘oh.’

Jason really wanted to laugh now. He double texted.

Jason: ‘I get it now.’

Y/N: ‘im not a fucking serial killer.’

Three dots floating in a bubble followed after.

Y/N: ‘yet.’

Jason kept his eyes on the board. Thankfully, this was chemistry. Bruce taught him more about that subject than Jerry ever will. He didn’t need to listen.

Y/N: ‘it’s just her divorce.’

Jason: ‘you have got to stop asking facultyyyt memberd how their divorce is going.’

Y/N: ‘why not’

Jerry definitely caught him by now. His glances at him included unbothered shakings of his head and flattened lips. But he didn’t say anything and went on with the discussion. He probably didn’t bother. Jason would end up with the highest test score no matter what he was doing in his desk. And the man had large bags under his eyes that screamed ‘I really don’t give a fuck about any of you’ to his students.

Jason: ‘you’re worse than a serial killer.’

You: ‘Im no Amelia Dyer.’

Jason: ‘remind me to look her up.’

You: ‘she killed 400 babies and had a infant farm for 20 years before she got caught.’

Jason: ‘sounds like something you’d do’

Y/N: ‘I don’t kill babies. I just scare them.’

Jason: ‘that’s the first step right there.’

You sent a middle finger and it made him silently cackle. Somehow, your sense of humor through came off a lot less dark, maybe because you didn’t sound like you were serious, when in actuality, you probably were. It didn’t matter though. He was smiling like a crazy person in the middle of a discussion about balancing equations.

Jason placed his phone back into his pocket and waited for the bell to ring so he could go meet you at the library for the fifth week since you started. You were halfway through your sentence. He never thought he’d get there. Somehow, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to the end of it as he thought he would.

Just yesterday, he told himself it was wrong to enjoy watching you scream at the stoners hiding behind the encyclopedia sections knowing no one would go in there at all. You were, quite literally, kicking them out of the library while Ms. Peterson backed you up like a shrieking duo. One of them cried while you charged at him, looking like you were about to tear his hair out and you threatening to stick his blunt up his earhole.

It went from something so obnoxious to something so amusing to watch. Perhaps the wrong was in him.

Jason listened to the teacher for the last ten minutes of the class, then the bell rung and everyone started for the exit. He picked up his bag, then took out his phone to tell you he was on his way.

“Texting in class now, Todd?”

He wanted to throw his bag, or anything he had on his hands really, to that source of that voice. Brandon. Fucking Brandon. With his still throbbing new nose and football varsity jacket over his shoulders that made him look even more loathsome than he already does. He came up to Jason and stood him off.

“Every single day for the past week, you text in class.” Brandon brought his leg up to rest on a chair beside Jason. “What? You think you’re so much smarter than everyone now?”

“I’m smarter than you, that’s for sure. But that’s not really much to brag about.”

“I can tell on you, you know. How’d your GPA like that?”

“Didn’t know you were a dirty snitch, Brandon.”

“Who you texting?” he raised his arms up to intimidate him. “That psycho bitch you hang out with all the time?”

Bruce told him to keep his rage in check even more so in class than he barely does in patrols, but at that moment, in a dizzying blur, Jason skillfully pushed Brandon against the wall and pulled his fist behind him without much care for the onlooking crowd.

“Want a new nose again, jackass?”

“Fuck you-“

“ALRIGHT, ENOUGH. STEP AWAY FROM HIS NOSE.”

Jerry. Poor Jerry. The tired teacher grabbed onto Jason’s shoulder and pulled him away from the linebacker. Jason backed down, lowering his arm, then kept his glare on him while he puffed up his jacket.

“Both of you. Get out of here. Todd, you don’t want me to send you to the VP’s office again before I call your father. Everyone walk away. Yes, everyone. Walk on. Get on with your business.”

He kept his head craned down while Jerry screamed at anyone sparing him a look. Jason shoved his bag over his back and stormed out of the room. Slamming the door, he walked to the library and found an empty table waiting for him with a cart full of books at the side. Ms. Peterson had her hand on her hip, snarling at him when he took the seat. “Get to these by today, boy.”

He ignored her and sat down, leaning forward to take yet another nap with his arms folded under his head.

All it takes is one triggering moment. One thug to taunt him. One word from the Joker. One lecture from Bruce. One threat to his humanity. And now his head’s all boiled up and all he wanted to do was block out the rest of the world and take a nap. And even then, he knew he wouldn’t wake up feeling any better.

“Jason,” Bruce told him a five weeks ago, the first day of his library sentence. “Anything going on in school you should tell me about?”

“Nothing. What makes you think that?”

“You caused trouble,” he said. “You picked a fight.”

“I’m fine. I’m not letting it affect my grades.”

“This isn’t about your grades. You can't let your business from the field affect you and hurt innocent people.”

“I’m not-“

“The next time the principal calls me with you starting another fight-“

“You’ll what? Take away my phone privileges?”

“I’m taking away your suit.”

He stormed out of that room before he could say anything more. Bruce never brought it up again, but Jason knew he was going to keep his word no matter what.

Jason didn’t even notice when you took the seat across of him with that prolonged, annoyed grunt that most often came with an eye roll. You placed your bag to your side and poked at his arm.

“Ey. You gotta help me with this.”

He didn’t look up when you pulled out your notes and your textbook. “WAKE UP.”

You repeatedly patted his shoulder until he let out a large enough grunt to make him crane his head up, eye squinting at you and his black hair covering his eyes. He really needed a haircut.

“What do you want now?”

“You weren’t this grumpy this morning.” You smirked. “I have to make a lit paper.”

“Why can't you do it yourself?”

“’Cuz you're the expert here. And I need that A.”

He buried his face back into his arms. “I’m not in the mood, Y/N.”

“Come on,” you said. Your voice prolonged the last syllable and you started to sound more annoying. “Don’t be a baby.”

“Just do it and ask me questions or some shit.”

“But I need your help-“

“And by the end of this, we’re at each other’s throats. I really don’t have the time for that now.”

You backed up, scoffing. “’Cuz you have something so much better to do?”

“Yeah,” he snarled. “Like taking a nap.”

He didn’t even glance at you taken aback and ignored you cursing under your breath. “Fine. Eat a dick, asshole.”

You took your stuff and drowned them into your bag, shuffling out of the table. A girl came up to you with a voice lower than a whistle. “Uhm, excuse me-“

“NO!” you screeched, then headed for the next table before she could ask anything more. The poor girl was trembling on her knees by the time you found an empty seat and pour out everything in your bag. His head was a mess, and the silence was the first step to actually making him clear his grime-covered mind. Jason kept shutting his eyes closed and focused on the blunt colors that appeared before his eyes in the shape of spirals.

For half an hour, he kept at his nap, falling asleep for a good ten minutes before he awoke to the sound of your screaming at a guy too stupid to ask you if the seat next to you was free while you were fumbling with your assignment. Jason groaned into his arm, feeling his head swell and ache and already knowing Bruce was waiting for him at home with yet another long, agonizing lecture on picking fights he never wanted in the first place. His eyes started to hurt from the force he used to shut them close, and everything in his mind was as hot as fire.

Leaning back against the chair, he knew this was going to bite him in the ass, sooner or later.

And one of the very very very few reasons he got to smile or even laugh all day was now violently taking notes while reading a book with the most fed up, furious expression on her face. He pulled out his bag, taking a water bottle and finishing its contents down his throat before he shot up and pushed his chair back.

Jason stood in front of your desk, his hand on the back of the chair across of you and waited for you to take notice of him. Your glare was terrifying. And it actually made him want to step back for once. But he stood his ground and sighed. “Can I help?”

“Get out of here.”

“I can help you.”

“I don’t need an asswipe telling me off.”

He took the chair despite you and you stared at your notebook, still with your eyebrows arched way up.

“Sorry.”

You ignored him and kept with your notes. He peered over, his elbows on the table, and you practically hissed at him when he got too close. Raising his hands up to surrender, he snarled at him before you continued your work.

“How many of reports have you done so far?”

You didn’t look like you were going to respond, and you kept writing like he wasn’t there in front of you at all. Jason couldn’t help but smile seeing you so angry and focused, knowing you were trying your best to block him out and failing miserably when he could see your eyebrow twitch and your eyes darting at him every few seconds.

Squirming his hand to you, his finger tugged on your gray sweater and scratched you like you had an itch. You pursed your lips and pulled your fist out so you looked like you were about to punch him, but he playfully held your hand and backed off. That was when he was fully smiling by now. He could block out all other thoughts easily when it was so fun to bug you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you finally looked up to his eyes. “Come on. Let me help.”

You licked the outside of your teeth and let out a long sigh that came with your usual grunt. Knowing you’d hate and love it at the same time, he ruffled your hair and you charged at him, almost stabbing him with your pen.

You finally managed to smile, then you gave in and handed him your notebook.

“The Fall of the House of Usher by Edgar Allan Poe,” you said. “What do you think?”

He leaned over the table, glancing at you, then taking the time to read your notes on what you understood from the passage. “This is good.”

“I’ve read the whole book like ten times by now.”

That made his chest feel just a bit warmer. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you took out the collection book he gave you. “Ms. Peterson has no idea. I’m supposed to have four weeks-worth of penalties because of this.”

Knowing he gave you something, and you happened to like it so much that you wanted it to be your report for literature class, and with you writing a decent paper about it, with you reading it over and over, it instantly became one of the things he won't easily forget.

He never grinned so much in a while, probably since a week ago in the gym. Jason watched you take back your notebook, continuing to write as he gazed too long at your parted lips. Feeling his flesh burn, he looked away.

“I won't bite you if you change anything, you know.” you said, your eyes keeping on your notes. “Go nuts.”

You tore off the page and handed it over to Jason, then you gave him a pen. Smiling at you, he took it, then started to circling words he thought you should change and other ideas he had of his own. A moment of silence, you didn’t scream anything at him when you he gave you the corrections. You graciously nodded, then started rewriting them onto a separate page. Your hair was falling to your cheeks, and it touched your skin so delicately and soft. Pretty.

So pretty.

He was gawking. He was so gawking. You’ll never let him hear the end of it. He shook his head and pretended he wasn’t just resting his chin on his hand like a teenage girl.

The thought of you reading Poe’s works still hadn’t left his mind. It wasn’t even a complete collection. There were so many more stories out there, most just on the internet. Maybe tonight, he could send some to you and you might enjoy them, too.

Or, maybe not. Patrol. Bruce has been telling him not to text so much while he was out supposedly beating criminals. But he couldn’t help it.

There was just something about making you happy, or even just smile or let out a bit of a laugh that made him feel a whip of a breezy rush. You were often sad when you were alone, and whatever you felt at school, it was so much worse at home. Everyday, you told him bits more of how it was like with your parents.

He saw so much of himself in you. You were eerily similar. Too similar. The hidden rage, the angst kept within. Maybe that was why he liked making you laugh so much.

“So what story did you like most?”

You grinned. “I’m not entirely sure. The Black Cat’s definitely up there. I don’t know. I really like all of them.”

“I’ve read that. The Black Cat,” he said, leaning back. “What makes you like it so much?”

“I like the idea of a cat being the whole reason his life goes downhill, kills his wife, and eventually gets caught. Like his whole life was being dictated by his pet.”

“That’s dark.”

“I know,” you smirked. “That’s why I like it so much.”

He had his arms crossed over on the table to cover his chest. “You becoming a serial killer seems more possible now.”

“Fuck you,” you said, sticking your tongue out.  

It was almost 4:30. He didn’t even notice the clock. You and Jason had the most civil conversation, not an insult or a mean comment on anything other than a playful back and forth. You closed your notes, then your book, then you stretched out your arms.

“Ms. Peterson’s gonna be pissed. We haven’t done any work today at all.”

“Just put the cart behind that shelf over there. We’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

He laughed, and you went with him as he stood up and did exactly so. “I can take you home today. But we have to leave now. Bruce wants me to go with him on this… thing.”

“Nah.” You pulled on your sweater as you headed out the door. “I’ll stay behind. Dad’s usually awake at this time. He won't be asleep until like, an hour from now.”

Jason respectfully understood, and you watched him as he walked out through the halls, turning at the corner.

He pulled out his phone. There was a text from Bruce.

‘You coming tonight?’

He didn’t bother to respond when he was already on his way home. Yesterday, Penguin and Two Face both had their own bank robberies at opposite ends of town. He repeatedly told Bruce he could handle Cobblepot on his own, but he refused and demanded he go with him while they take them out one by one.

Jason was reluctant of course, and it wasn’t like he had a choice. But he did a great job at finishing off Two Face’s crew that it didn’t take long for them to go all the way to the other bank and catch Penguin before they even got to half the bank’s vaults. Bruce told him he had the option to go with him to patrol tonight or not, but if he were, he had to come home early and not laze around in school like he often did.

Tonight, he chose to go to patrol. He thought he needed an outlet and imagine Brandon’s face on the heads of drug dealers. The thought alone made him grin.

Jason walked out the exit and reached for his keys.

Except he totally forgot he wasn’t even wearing his bag until he’d walked to his motorcycle. Groaning as he walked back into the school’s entrance, he sprinted for the library, catching the door open just as Ms. Peterson was about to walk out with a deathly glare on her face at him. Jason ran for his bag, took it, then gave Ms. P a fun little hug before walking back out.

He took out his phone, expecting a text from you, but there was nothing. So he asked you where you were before heading back out.

Out into the now empty halls, Jason walked pass the lockers, the dark classrooms, the one bright light at the center, he kept his hands in his pockets and sighed.

Piano keys.

Piano keys?

Playing. Simple chords played out but had a familiar tune he couldn’t get out from the back of his mind.

And singing.

A voice he’s only heard so often, yet he could pick out from a million others.

The music room was one he didn’t go in too often, but the sound came from there. The door wasn’t closed, and slowly, he peered it open.

A beam so little from the window, yet he could see how your back was so straight up, how your lean fingers rested gracefully onto the keys, playing the chords in perfectly strewn out notes that he could just tell you’ve been at this for quite some time. From an angle slightly to the left, you couldn’t see him, but he could see a bit of your face, the side of it, how your eyelids looked closed looking down at your own fingers.

Then you sang.

 I've seen the world, done it all

Had my cake now

Diamonds, brilliant, in Bel-Air now

Hot summer nights, mid July

When you and I were forever wild

The crazy days, city lights

The way you'd play with me like a child

Will you still love me

When I'm no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me

When I've got nothing but my aching soul?

I know you will, I know you will

I know that you will

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

 You…

You…

Yeah.

You were beautiful.

So beautiful…

 Will you still love me

When I'm no longer young and beautiful?

 You just… kept going.

And there was nothing, not ever, in the entire length of his existence, of his years at the streets, of his few years as Robin, of his time at either a ratty apartment or a manor, of all the people he’s met, of any song that he’s heard.

Nothing. Nothing compared to your voice. Nothing compared to you.

 Hot summer days, rock and roll

The way you play for me at your show

And all the ways, I got to know

Your pretty face and electric soul

 Breathy, low, and everything he’s kept to remember. His chest never felt so light, yet his heart was beating out of his ribcage. His bag was almost dropped down his shoulder, his mouth was parted, his face deeply flushed. Even when you played the wrong note, cursed, then went on just as perfectly as you ever could, he couldn’t tear his eyes off of you.

His eyes were so relaxed on you, and nothing, not even his trembling shoulders could make him look away.

You reached the higher notes with a perfect falsetto, then your voice echoed out even with the room as small as a stuffy classroom. His eyebrows were up to his forehead and he didn’t know if he was still breathing, when he was standing so still, frozen like a block of ice.

You had so much deepness and soul, and you were often whispering the words, but then your voice would go up in a perfect blend.

Perfect. That was all he could think of. Perfect.

His bag was on the floor now, the only thing keeping it up was a single finger.

Lana Del Ray. You sung it better than her. In his most humble, honest, totally not biased opinion. Shit, he even felt like he wanted to cry. His chest was heaving and his face never burned up so much, at almost the end of the song, he finally had it in him to move from his place and throw himself back against a wall.

Breathe. Fucking breathe.

 Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

Will you still love me when I'm not young and beautiful?

 That last note, you breathed it out so nicely, it went straight into his soul, biting his lip, then closing his eyes.

He smiled like the biggest fucking idiot for the nth time that very day.

Jason looked like a fourteen year old girl cooing over a boyband. He laid his head against the wall, staring at the ceiling, hearing you sing vocal runs and pressing randomly at the piano. And he couldn’t stop showing his teeth, his face was hurting like a bitch, but fuck.

FUCK.

He’s never felt anything like this. Like his head was lighter than the air around him, lighter than the softness of your falsetto. He was still catching his breath and grinning above him, then at the ground, then back at the wall. It wasn’t on what he stared at. Your voice ringing in his ears, like angels were flying around playing their little harps over his head, like the sun was shining so brightly against him that he couldn’t see even a smidge of darkness anywhere in the world. How your face scrunched up, how your eyebrows raised, how you’d close your eyes and feel the song as it flew out your lips.

He rubbed on his chin and mouth to ease his aching muscles. Jason kept with his breathing, the fluttering in his chest. Everything. Everything.

Jason needed to wash his face with ice cold water at this point, gathering enough courage, he looked back into the room.

You were staring back at him.

-----

You didn’t look mad.

Though you definitely, most probably should.

You didn’t even notice he was there until the end of the song when he hit the wall with his back. Idiot must’ve thought you wouldn’t hear him.

But you weren’t mad. Not at all. Not from the way he was looking at you. Not when he was staring at you in a way no one ever had in your whole life. Not when you could see how his lips were parted and how his chest was visibly rising and how cute his face was all embarrassed and shit.

You could only smile.

Standing from the piano and grabbing your bag, you walked over to him. Jason gulped down and backed up against the wall with you standing right in front of him.

And after five weeks of knowing him,

Jason Todd finally looked like he was scared shitless of you.

But you didn’t want him to be scared of you. Not anymore. It just doesn’t seem like something you wanted anymore.

“You heard all that, huh?”

Jason was an absolute mess. He cleared his throat three times and hesitantly nodded, keeping his head to the ground.

“I-I’m uh,” he mumbled. “Sorry.”

You shook your head. “Don’t be.”

He didn’t look like he had another answer. Jason scratched the back of his head. “Uhm-“

“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

You walked first, but looked back to see if he followed. Jason rushed to your side, making sure his blush wasn’t so evident even though it clearly was. You were better at hiding your own embarrassment, so you nudged his shoulder.

Jason laughed out loud and looked at you the same way he looked at the stars. You looked back at him the same way.

“You gonna take me home?”

He managed to form a sentence. “I thought you wanted to stay longer.”

You shrugged. “I guess I can take it.”

When you stepped out the gate, Jason walked you over to his bike and handed you his second helmet. Playfully, you hit the side of his and chuckled when you sat behind him, clutching onto his waist. You felt him tense, but he eventually relaxed and you leaned in to him.

You leaned your head on his back this time. You never did that before. Your clutch was tighter, your eyes closed. If it were anyone, it could pass for simply wanting to be more secure. But that day you just wanted to hold someone you actually didn’t mind being with before you’d get home and all this would end in an abrupt stop.

After a long while, you still couldn’t smell smoke emissions from cars or even hear the horns or bells or shouts from all the city folk near your apartment. Looking up then around you with the sun still shining brightly even at this time of day, you were in the countryside. Away from the city.

“WHERE ARE WE GOING?”

“YOU’LL SEE.”

You could smell cow dung, and the earthy scent of grass you should be more used to than you actually are. The road ahead of you was wide and long, and the air was so much lighter than it was at home. You closed your eyes, this time feeling the wind against your skin.

Jason was smiling through his helmet. Further down the road, you held onto him. “I THOUGHT YOU HAD SOMEWHERE TO GO TONIGHT.”

“I TEXTED BRUCE. I’M NOT GOING WITH HIM. JUST HOLD ON.”

You smiled and looked on when he made a turn into a forest with tall trees getting taller as you rode further down. There were no people around you. Not even houses. You leaned into his shoulder and rested your chin on top.

Jason started to slow down when you reached deeper into the trees, finally stopping his bike by the curb. The air was cold, and you wrapped your sweater tighter around your body after you’ve removed your helmet. “Where are we?”

“Come on.”

Jason walked towards the trees, where there was a little cement pathway now covered in weeds and grass growing out of its cracks. You had trouble making your way through, especially when your boots had a bit of a heel in them, then you walked to Jason’s side as it became clearer what you were there for.

An old, abandoned house. Something out of the dozens of horror movies you’ve saved in your laptop.

“Dude…”

“You like?”

It was small, but its picket fence and flaking white wooden walls just screamed fifties to you, with a triangular roof, two windows on the second level, a half-circle glass wall on the right side of the first floor, and a door so rickety and old, colored in an earthly brown that had mixed in with the debris and rot. Vines were all over its porch, and there was even a rocking chair sitting right outside by the entryway, also covered in vines. Outside of the house was an old pickup truck that had rusted beyond use, sinking into the ground like it was pulled by the earth.

“How’d you know I always wanted to go urban exploring?”

“I just figured.” Jason smiled. “Come on. We can go inside.”

“Are you sure?” you eagerly started for the door. “It won't break?”

“I’ve been here once. The stairs are broken so we can't go to the second floor. Just be careful.”

Pulling the unlocked door open, and Jason right behind you, you flashed him a smile before stepping inside.

It was seriously from the horror movies you’ve watched over and over. The first thing that greeted you was a nice little foyer, with a table in the middle and a vase that used to house flowers for sure. Then behind it was the broken staircase Jason mentioned. It was made entirely out of wood, and it had fallen in so bad that it was basically a wall by now. So much of the wood was on the ground, and there were lots of papers, books, clothes, and several others cluttering all around the floor. You had to walk all over them.

There were two entry ways at the sides of the foyer. One leading to the living room, and one to the dining room and kitchen. Everything further down had been blocked out by wooden planks and even more clutter. The living room was beautiful with the glass walls that formed a half circle and a petite grand piano standing in the middle. Its cover was up, and its keys had completely gone. There was still a bit of light coming in to the windows, which shone on the room so nicely, it was perfect.

The couches were completely ruined, and you wouldn’t dare sit on it. At the center of the room, though, which caught your eye the most, was a beautiful, broken chandelier that had fallen to the ground, which was why there was so much broken glass around the floor.

At the other side, the dining room was a bit more modest. A table seating six was still intact, but the chairs were either toppled over to the ground or broken in half. Even more clutter was on the table. Nearby was the kitchen, with an island in the middle, an old-fashioned fridge you probably wouldn’t want to go near to, and other kitchen supplies scattered around.

You both took out your phones and took pictures of the place. It was too good to witness.

“Jason…”

“I know,” he raised his arms up, putting his phone back into his pocket. “Amazing.”

You covered your mouth, then walked on over to the piano. You ran your hands over it, ignoring the mountains of dust that formed over your fingers. “I dare you to play it.”

“There’s barely any keys left.”

You watched him laugh, then you both walked around the chandelier. “Getting a bit of the Phantom of the Opera vibes in here.”

“Don’t touch it.”

“I wasn’t going to.” You eyed it carefully, then you looked up at the empty ceiling. It looked almost like it was going to fall in. Hopefully it wouldn’t.

“The family that used to live here, they left around fifty years ago. A mom, dad, and two twin girls. They both had tuberculosis and died in this very house. The parents just left it after they died. Never took anything along with them.”

“That’s terrifying. You think they’ve got a listing on this place?”

Jason chuckled. “The twins used to be theater stars. That’s why they’ve got a piano. To practice. And they built the whole place around it so the sounds would echo nicely.”

You finally got it. Shaking your head with a knowing smile, you turned to Jason. He had his hands stuck to his hoodie pockets, his head craned down, his hair falling to his eyes, and his smile all over the bottom half of his face.

“Is that why you took me here?”

“You have…” he gulped, never looking away from your eyes. “The most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard in my life…”

You had to look away. For your own sake. You were turning red so much, it was embarrassing. “Stop.”

“I’m serious. You never told me you sang.”

“It’s not exactly something I hid.  I’ve sung in school a couple of times. Like in middle school graduation.”

“So I’m basically the only one in school who hasn’t heard you sing?” He placed his hand on his chest. Then pretended to scoff.

“Why don’t you sing. Right here.”

“Todd. No.”

“Come on. We have the place for it.”

You looked up at the ceiling, which was high for a house so small. It probably went all the way up to the roof. “No way.”

Jason kept nudging you, but you wouldn’t give in. You couldn’t help your smile though. You and Jason walked over to the kitchen and just looked at all the things the family left behind. Even the toaster was untouched, and you’ve never seen an oven so old fashioned before, it still had that pastel green color on the parts that hadn’t been taken over by rust.

It was starting to get dark. But you never wanted to leave. “Thank you.”

You said it without looking directly at him, but he got it. Going back outside before everything would completely dim out, Jason walked over to the pickup truck and jumped on its back.

You didn’t have the agility to just jump on top of it without possibly pulling a muscle, so you just watched Jason sit on the edge of it and swung his legs in the air.  Standing beside him and leaning your back against the truck, you both watched the house as the sun started to set behind it. You could see the beams scatter just at the center of the roof where it angled down. The sky had grown from a brightly lit yellow to a dark orange.

-----

You and Jason were a recipe for trouble.

Was it because you were too similar? Harbored the same anger? The same hatred for a number of people you didn’t even know? Was it because you both stirred trouble when it wasn’t asked for?

It was a recipe for trouble because, according to the young adult romance novels and movies, Jason was supposed to be with a nice, sweet, innocent girl who’d bring out the good in him and was kind to everyone, have just enough of that spice in her that would draw attention but still be a sweetheart, and she’d be made of happiness and rainbows and would be what brightens up Jason’s darkness.

You were not that girl. You were the opposite. You had that same darkness as he did. You had so much anger, and instilled so much fear onto anyone you didn’t like. Maybe you were even darker. And if it were up to those same novels and movies, you were supposed to end up with basically the same type of person, someone who was bright and yellow and happy. Not Jay.

But with you both being so similar, so full of angst and dread and hate, in a world were opposites were supposed to belong together,

why does he bring so much light and hope?

How does someone just as unhappy as you are come along and make you laugh like the world was about to end?

How does someone just as full of pent up rage as you are come along, and make it all go away for a sweet, short moment?

How was it all possible? How could two people, two very similar people, fit into a puzzle that called for them to fill it what you didn’t have?

How could someone supposed to fuel the fire already inside you end up being the sun?

Jason never thought of that either. In fact, he thought he might end up with someone in his line of work. Another vigilante. Not a mean girl from school who terrorizes students with a pair of fucking scissors.

But, somehow, it all just made everything he was turn into what he was supposed to be. You could say the same.

With you in your little room and Jason in his significantly larger one in the manor, you both sank to the ground, backs against the wall, and you pulled out your phones.

You had left a message first.

Y/N: ‘Urban exploring should be more of a thing.’

Jason smiled.

Jason: ‘Nah. People would crowd those places and vandalize them.’

Y/N: ‘True. I’d want them all to myself anyway.’

Jason: ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’

You felt your heart jump. God, this had to stop.

Y/N: ‘I did. Thank you.’

Jason: ‘Should I get used to you being nice to me now?’

Y/N: ‘Probably not.’

He laughed and shuffled his knees.

Y/N: ‘Send me the pictures you took.’

Scrolling through his albums, he selected everything he took that day and sent it all to you. Leaning on his back, looking up at the ceiling as he waiting, Jason imagined the look on your face when you first saw the house. Your eyes never shone so brightly.

You looked through the pictures and found several, about eight of them, centered on nothing else but you smiling at the ceiling, at the piano, at the chandelier, at the tables.

Y/N: ‘Dude. Why this angle of me?’

Confused, Jason looked through the pictures.

And he cursed out loud, over and over, burying his head in his hands when he saw he’d accidentally sent eight pictures he’d secretly taken of you. Fuck it all. This is how he dies. This is the death of Jason Todd.

You were smiling out of your face, and instead of saying anything mean or the thousands of jokes that instantly came up to the front of your mind, you did the same and sent him pictures you took.

And Jason’s heart rose up from where it sank to the floor when he saw you’d taken just as many pictures of him, doing the same things as you did and some with him holding his phone up. One was just his face.

He was a fucking grinning mess by then.

Jason: ‘Don’t I look good.’

Yeah, you cooed. You certainly do. But you didn’t say that to him. You just went along with him and he changed the subject.

Jason: ‘Huge favor.’

Y/N: ‘Shoot.’

Jason: ‘Send me a voice message of you singing.’

Y/N: ‘Absolutely not.’

Jason: ‘Please.’

Y/N: ‘No.’

Jason: ‘I’ll do your library work for three days.’

Y/N: ‘not even if you beg, Todd.’

Jason: ‘I keep my promises, just so you know.’

Y/N: ‘Still no.’

Jason: ‘Sing in the library tomorrow then.’

Y/N: ‘Ms. P will throw me out the fucking window.’

Jason: ‘Yeah, she probably will.’

Y/N: ‘Do my shelving work for three weeks. Then I’ll send you a five second audio message of me humming.’

Jason: ‘Make it a minute of a song of MY choice. Then I’ll do it for a week.’

Y/N: ‘not a chance.’

Jason: ‘what do I have to do then.’

Nothing. You gripped your phone to your chest. I’d sing for you if it makes you smile any day.

Y/N: ’Two weeks. I get to ride on the cart while you shelf my books.’

Jason: ‘Deal.’

You threw your head back, then you made a two second audio message of you screaming “NICE TRY, TODD.”

Jason: ‘Mother fucker.’

Y/N: ‘HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.’

4 am. You slept at 4 am that night. And only because your eyes couldn’t take it and Jason was drooling on his bed after doing exercises to stay up and talk to you.

He had it bad.

Really bad.

And, not surprisingly, so did you.

----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisies river9noble

[zechleton]

Ranting and Raving About Magic in 2022

I haven’t written about Magic in ages, so what better way could there be to get back into the habit that a stream of consciousness spiel about the 2022 announcement?

Strap in, folks, because this is going to be long and poorly edited.

Actually, it’s not that long, about 1500 words. It might feel longer, though.

Neo-Tokyo or something idk

As one of the five people on r/magictcg that didn’t want to return to Kamigawa in standard set, I have to admit this one looks surprisingly awesome. The couple of pieces of art Wizard shared looked fantastic, as usual, and I’m a sucker for that blue/pink colour scheme. I’m not a huge fan of time travel as a story telling device but since the Magic story has always served the card game, using tropes I don’t enjoy is far from a deal-breaker. Yeah – I’m cautiously optimistic about this one.

Someone Made Elspeth an Offer she Couldn’t Refuse

Obviously, we know much less about this set. Still, it sounds right up my alley. I’m curious how Wizards is going to make Magic meets The Godfather work, but the good kind of curious. On top of that, I’d really like to have some more shard-based commanders on Arena for Brawl, and I assume we’re the “three-colour demon crime families” isn’t referring to clans (triome?) again after leaving Ikoria behind. Also, come on, how can you not love the sound of demon crime families?

Glory, Glory, Dom United!

There is a part of me that gets nervous about nebulous concepts like design space whenever we go back to an old plane again. All these crossovers (more on those later) take on a different appearance when viewed through an “are they running out of ideas” lens. Still, Dominaria was fantastic, by far the best “return to” set – though I’m hoping Innistrad claims that throne in a few weeks. With that in mind, I’m expecting Wizards to knock it out of the park with DU, just like they did with Dominaria.

The Nostalgia Wars

I might scoff somewhat at Magic’s storyline sometimes, but I’ve read the stuff that people think is good. I own both collections of the Artifacts Cycle. They all pale in comparison to good fantasy, but they’re not bad, and they hold a special place in my heart from when I was more invested in stuff like lore and story. The point of that ramble? 2022, more than ever, is Wizards’ mining the seemingly neverending mineral that is nerd nostalgia. It further adds to my “are they running out of ideas” worry, but I can’t say the nostalgia hit/psychological manipulation isn’t working on me. Hell, Return to Return to Innistrad has me more excited than any set for a couple of years now so I guess I’m part of the problem.

Uncaring

The phrase “not for you” is thrown around distrubingly often in Magic circles nowadays. Unfinity, however, is decidedly not for me. And that’s fine.

Dungeons And Dragons Battle for Baldur’s Gate Commander Legends I Think That’s The Whole Title But Maybe I Missed a bit I’m not Sure

Yikes, what a mouthful. I hate the title, both its length and unwieldiness. I don’t really have much interest in the set either. Commander Legends was a neat idea with a lot of flaws. Adding crossover flavour from another IP I have little-to-no interest in isn’t helping matters, though I appreciate that Adventures in the Forgotten Realms was super popular. For me, AFR was pretty much just a core set without any of the usual references to sets I do know and care about. Another “not for me” release.

Double Trouble

Hmm. I’m torn here. As a primarily limited-focused player, Masters sets have been some of my favourites ever. Original Modern Masters is still one of my in my top five sets of all time, and I have fond memories of almost all of the others, too.

Original Double Masters, though, was a victim of apathy brought on by the never-ending deluge of Magic product being released nowadays. I have never even seen a booster of this product, much less opened one. Without looking it up, I can’t even tell you if it was hurt by the pandemic or not, because there’s just way too much fucking stuff nowadays. I don’t know what else to say.

Oh, hang on. Was this the set with a $100 VIP Booster? Hahaha, fuck off.

Jump Around

The original Jumpstart was surprisingly enjoyable on Arena. I never wanted to play it more than a few times, and sometimes you got packs that relied entirely on your opponent getting mana screwed, but those few times I played it were pretty fun. I think putting stuff like obvious eternal format staples like Alosaurus Shepherd in a set like this is some extremely anti-consumer bullshit, but as a play experience it was an interesting mesh of draft and sealed. Not as much fun as either of those, but close enough that the novelty carried it into the “pretty fun, actually” camp. I expect more of the same – I’ll probably do a few runs if I have gems or gold spare.

Universes Beyond: Warhammer 40K Commander et al

Really, this is the bit about all the crossover stuff.

Another vomit inducing title and one that has left me with some introspection to do. Like many people, I find a lot of this crossover stuff distasteful, but I can’t really say why. The fact that the Street Fighter one – an IP I have some amount of investment in – seems less egregious than Warhammer of D&D makes me think that I don’t necessarily object to crossovers on principal. Does my dislike come from the fact that, so far, all of the other crossovers don’t involve properties I care about? Maybe. Even the mechanically unique line of text that pissed off so many people when the Walking Dead set came out doesn’t bother me that much, because Commander is a format I can take or leave.

The Fortnite one rubs me a different wrong way, though. Partly, it’s the sheer fucking inevitability of it all. Of course a popular part of the nerd sphere will have a crossover with Fortnite because that’s just the world in which we live. Partly it makes me feel old, uncool, and excluded, like all the other crossovers I don’t care about, sure. But there’s something more visceral about Fortnite. It’s fucking everywhere and I resent feeling like I have to have an opinion about it. Still, I don’t really have strong opinions about most of the other crossovers, so why this one? I really don’t know. Maybe this is one “this isn’t for you” too many from a game that has been part of my life for over 20 years.

I haven’t bought a single Secret Lair, but I’m generally willing to accept that they’re a bonus product that isn’t needed by anyone but is wanted by some. Hell, if they put out Secret Lair: Snapcaster Mage with good art (at last), I could probably te tempted into picking one up. It would be against my better judgement, though. Something about all these “not necessary but also don’t miss out, aren’t they cool, spend more money please” products rubs me the wrong way. Playing Magic and hating capitalism are difficult interests to reconcile. That’s it. That’s the tagline for this article.

Oh, right, it’s just a blog. Never mind.

Oh, God. The Fornite Secret Lair is going to be the Snapcaster Mage one, isn’t it?

Then there’s Lord of The Rings. My pal Kristen will be thrilled about this, was my first thought. I’m less enthusiastic (shocker, right?), but at least LOTR makes sense as a thing to crossover with. I mean, apart from the obvious business sense. It doesn’t have any guns and it isn’t an obnoxiously ubiquitous battle royale FPS, so that already puts it ahead of two of the other three crossovers. Indeed, without LOTR, you can make a reasonable case that MTG would never exist in the first place. Personally, I view LOTR in the same way I view The Beatles – they were important, and worthy of respect, but have been surpassed in every way since.

And the movies are better than the books. There I said it.

Regardless, this one is fine, actually. I still don’t particularly care for crossovers in general, especially as the setting for a standard set, but at least it makes sense this time.

Shut up Already

Alright, I hear you. I know a lot of that was negative towards the end, but I want to reiterate that a lot of the stuff happening in standard sets next year is really exciting, if a little unoriginal. The crossover/sellout stuff and the interminable deluge of FOMO-driven products is worrying and disappointing, but I guess we just have to try and ignore the ever-increasing number of “not for you” products and focus on the stuff we do like. Seriously, Neon Destiny looks amazing, and I don’t even like anime.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Final Four: The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck Review! or The Batman Trial Episode but with Ducks, Sharks, And the Fonz

Hello all you happy people and welcome to the penultimate Ducktales review... for season 3 anyway. I still have most of season 1, all of season 2 (I did cover one but I’ll probably redo it), the tie-in comics, the 87 series, and even then i’ll never really be done with ducks between all the scrooge comics and other duck related shows like Darkwing Duck and Quack Pack. But as far as covering the show as it comes out as i’ve done for the past year, that’s’ts almost done. It’s honestly just starting to hit as I type this: this is the second to last episode. After next week while there’s always fan fiction (And I certainly aim to contribute to that), a possible Darkwing Duck Reboot under frank (though that’s in doubt) where they could show up, and a movie down the road given what we saw with Phienas and Ferb and the show’s popularity it’s still not the same as getting these well animated, well crafted adventures every week with breaks or the ocasional entire week of them. The show won’t go on, and whatever happens with the property next is a mystery no amount of ducks can solve. 

So with all that in mind naturally this episode is a breather episode: It’s not unimportant: like the rest of the season it ties off a lot of loose ends, adds in some stuff we didn’t know we wanted, and in general feels necessary like every episode this season. It’s something I credit the season for immensley: They knew this would probably be it so while they had more stories to tell, they made sure if these were their last, to leave no loose ends. And outside of ones they just never wanted to address in the first place like “What happened to Donald’s parents”, “Why was every trace of Della missing despite Scrooge’s search for her having just ended”, and “What did Della thing of the decades long seperation”, they’ve tied up pretty much all of them except for FOWL and what Beakly was lying about, and I feel both are about to ducktail into one another int he finale. Could be wrong but  I applaud them for tying off almost every loose end and character arc by this episode that isn’t related to FOWL in some way. Not every show can do that: She Ra was a masterpiece but still had a few things like Scorpia and Catra’s broken relationship, Hordak’s reformation and Adora’s Parents just left up in the air due to time constraints, Steven Universe ONLY got to go back and answer a lot of questions because they were lucky enough to get an epilogue mini series, and Star Vs... was not as good as either show by the end and by the finale about 80% of things it’d brought up all had the following answer:

My point is it’s VERY hard, even when you know the end is coming to tie everything up in a neat bow. And I can’t know how good the finale be or how satsifying it will be but given how well this season’s wrapped everything up so far,  i’m betting on immensely. But we can talk about that when it finally comes around next week. For now we have a trial episode to talk about that’s mostly good.. mostly. See why the mostly under the cut as I discuss and recap the episode with full spoilers.  Count it down!

We open in the Mansion, where a bunch of tribble like Fuzzy creatures are running amok. Unsuprisingly, Scrooge bought one for Louie as a pet to teach him responsiblity.. again. And once again he instead turned into a get rich quick scheme, didn’t read the manual and now they have an infestation. 

ONCE AGAIN, Louie is written like he’s barely changed at all in the past three seasons. Anyone whose been following my reviews regularly knows this has been a pet peeve of mine for the entire season. Despite having an ENTIRE arc about Louie growing as a character and learning the human cost of his scheming and to use his angle seeing talent’s wisely, the writers keep writing him as if he learned nothing. I went back to track it and while not as often as it felt I noticed a few things. The first is that it WASN’T like this for the first half of the season. No really. He even learns brand new lessons in The Trickening and Louie’s Eleven. Granted he also exploits his uncle in Louie’s Eleven but that’s mostly played for laughs.. still not a great bit but not a major part of the episode. 

So he was fine for the first act of the season... but then for whatever reason from Let’s Get Dangerous onwards (Again I don’t count the Christmas episode as both of those are meant to slot in anywhere and chronologically take place before this season for the timeline to make any sense), he’s just...

He’s utterly insufferable in his small parts of the first half of Let’s Get Dangerous! as he berates Huey for daring to look a gifthorse int he mouse.. even though everytime he’s seemingly got something for nothing or minimal effort it’s backfired and it’s something that seeemd to stick with “The Richest Duck in the World!”. He’s fine in Impossibin and alright in split sword as while he clearly hadn’t learned lying isn’t the best policy we at least got a good story out of it. He then went right back to obnoxious with New Gods on the Block where he, EPISODES AFTER THE SOLEAGEO FISACO again thinks an easy way out is the right way, and has NO guilt over possibly killing a bunch of people with his gold powers and in fact is disapointed he dosen’t get to keep a living being turned to gold!. He spents all of Fight for Castle McDuck being a huge dick to Huey AGAIN iwth no lesson, and now has yet another family endagering get rich quick scheme he feels no remorse about. 

I will admit when I”m wrong and I DID think it was in way more of the season than I thought. And let’s face it in real life personal issues don’t just go away and you can sometimes slide back, i’ve done it way too many times and i’m not proud of it. We’re only human. But this isn’t real life, this is cartoon ducks. And cartoon duck wise most character development has stuck or if a bad trait’s come back it’s been in a new way. Webby is still trusting, but knows how the world works now and while idolizing scrooge dosen’t think he’s perfect anymore. Huey is no longer a skpetic towards the super natural and hasn’t forced a party on anyone. Dewey hasn’t craved other people’s love or thought he needed to earn his mom’s love again. And that’s just the other kids. They aren’t the same people theyw ere going in, neither is Louie. So it’s grating when an episode acts like h’es exactly the same, let alone almost a fifth of the season.

What makes it even worse though is that he had an ENTIRE STORY ARC dedicated to learning some of these lessons already. With the others if one episode were forgotten i’d let it slide as it happens with tv, i’m used to it. It’s not a great look but it happens. Mistakes happen again we’re all human. But you can’t act like an entire arc of a series didn’t exist. While they ignore Della’s history somehow being hidden for the rest of the show they don’t ignore that Dewey spent a whole season looking for her, as he never hides something like that from his brothers again nor do they, and he’s out of them the biggets mama’s boy. While they did take a while to adress Lena, partly because the episode got pushed back, they didn’t act like season 1 never happened and she was still working for her aunt. Della still isn’t on the moon and Owlson still isn’t working for glomgold. Actions. Have. Consequences. That’s the whole point of this episode, but they act like none of it got through to louie and it makes his arc feel like a giant waste in hindsight. This episode even feels like it was SUPPOSED to be in that arc: Louie is back to his season 2 characterization, Scrooge is actively trying to mentor him again.. it just feels really out of place as our second to last episode in that way and drags it down a bit.

Thankfully after Scrooge bars the door, and possibly leaves everyone to their deaths but he presumably has enough faith in the kids, the twins and Beakley to take care of it, he gets a summons to court.. and gets kidnapped. He and Louie are whisked away to a mystic court presided over by a giant statue of justice holding scales, that judges someone based on Karma. Scrooge’s foes have brought him to court, blaming him for being evil and if he looses he looses EVERYTHING. And their proscutor? 

Sadly not Droopy, maybe next continuity, but searing the same Hannibal-Esque Getup is Doofus Drake to Louie’s horror. As for why he’s like this.. he thought iht was fun. Great gag. 

After the credits we find out why he’s doing this: He’s still pissed about Louie taking half his inheritance and giving it to his family, so he’s going to take LOUIE’S inheritance. It’s.. honestly a great setup: Doofus was already a villian I liked, being a nice weird evil mirror dewey instead of a walking fat joke like last series. So I was glad to both see him pop up one last time to make it a full trilogy of apperances as an angonist and to see him take a step up from his passive roll in the past: in his first two apperances while he was evil and abusive, and still is, his evil was mostly due to his own warped logic, feeling he could put shock collars on and control people and that Louie lying to him was enough to warrant making him into a pinata. He’s still a bad person mind you: kid or not he ensdlaved his parents, tried to enslave louie and goldie and in general REALLY needs some help empathizing with people. But my point is that before he didn’t come after anyone.. so it’s a nice capper to have his final turn as antaognist be him going after our hero.. and at his most dangerous. Before someone would’ve come for Louie eventually in Doofus’ first apperance and Goldie would’ve found a way out or Scrooge, despite grumbling about it, would’ve helped.. if nothing else than to lord having to save her from a 12 year old over her. Here if he wins the family is out on the street and three of their greatest enemies are now infinitely more well funded. 

So while naturally unnerved by his rival Louie offers to defend Scrooge who denies it despite the fact that Louie is REALLY good with words, and Scrooge, while not bad with them, can’t stop shouting and keeps pissing off the baliff, played by my boy Henry Winkler whose done a lot of voice work and also played Fonzie on Happy Days, is currently on the HBO series barry and in general is just a fucking delight. The irony is also not lost on me that he’s not playing a lawyer here despite being one on arrested development. 

We get our first witness: FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD. Hell. Yes. It’s nice to see him in his full glory one last time, as I don’t know how much he’ll be in the finale. Scrooge blows of the Duke Baloney thing, which is fair given that while Scrooge screwed up there, Glomgold still stole money from him right after and then spent his whole life trying to one up him. But Glomgold has a different tale in mind as he stole something else from him: the limelight. 

It was 1980-something and Glomgold was a bonified celebrity in Duckberg for his hot dogging, grandstanding and treasure hunting loved by all and took Baba Wawa, a nice mix of Barbra Walters and the parody of her on SNL by the late Gilda Radner, to a shark shaped cave to get the gem of the shark god, a ruby tooth at the end of the cave. Naturally Scrooge popped up and easily made his way through and stole the spotlight. As it turns out he wasn’t always well loved and it makes sense: he dismises Baba asking him about how disliked he is, and dosen’t care and even in the current story, or rather season 1 of it, he dismiseed PR entirely in Jaw$. He was rich enough and enough of a job provider he just didn’t see the need for fame or glory, that just came second so it’s logical no one liked him. Fortunes naturally reverse as you’d expect though: Glomgold dashes forward and ends up putting Baba and her camerabird in danger and being Glomgold he irrationally assumes she’s working for Scrooge and leaves her to die. Scrooge however, after getting the rock, goes out of his way to save her because it’s the right thing to do. He can be selfish at times, and as we’ll see monstrously so, but at his core Scrogoe is a good man who will do right when the chips are down. So this leaves Glomgold trapped and Scrogoe getting his good press instead and realizes he likes the attention. 

As the flashback ends Glomgold fills in the gaps, pointing out he was stuck with the sharks for days, but slowly bonded with them learned from them and they became family, helping him with traps, joining him for thanksgiving and even getting a heart taatoo with a shark on it. Awww. Look I didn’t really need to know where Glomgold’s love of sharks came from, nor that he had some weird tarzan origin story with them.. but my life is 100% better knowing all of this so thank you Frank and Matt. Thank you. I’m also entirely convinced the two have had this whole part of his backstory ready to go for three seasons and were waiting to use it, along with the other two bits we’re about to get to. This episode as you can tell is also a vingette episode, but one where the wraparound is way more improtant than usual.. but it works given the setting and allows the stories to be as long as they actually need to be, and it addds some nice stakes instead of just having Scrooge’s villians gripe about him. 

Scrooge protests and the Bailiff puts a clamp on his beak, so he has no choice in the matter when Louie steps up for the defense. Louie also proves that irresponsible he may be.. he’d be a damn good lawyer, as he easily picks things apart, pointing out Glomgold was ALREADY bad by then, Scrooge had no intent to steal the spotlight and Glomgold is currently planting dynamite under his chair, with predictable and hilarious results. So he gets put on the “good” side of the scale. Next witness.

Next up is Ma, and I was delighted that as I’d hoped and theroized this episode wrapped up one little plot point that while not major, was something I was curious about: Ma’s claims Scrooge stole Duckburg from her family.  This was also likely the backbone of the episode at one point as Frank pitched a beagle trial episode at one time, but Disney nixed it. Likely the magic stuff was added both to justify it better and to distract Disney Channel’s higher ups because they constantly underestimate what a child will like. It was for the best though as the beagles are just a bit weaker here: While Character Actress Margo Martindale is a delight and was specifically cast for the role, overall it just feels like they ran out of ways to make the beagles a big threat and releigated them to muscle when needed, to the point they only appeared in one episode besides this one this season as with FOWL about, they didn’t really need villians of the week and what ones they did use like Glomgold and Mark were far more entertaining villains who needed a coda to their stories.They aren’t bad characters, but in a series where their breaking into the bin or mansion wasn’t a story the crew was interested in they served no real purpose. 

So we finally get answers about the whole Deed thing: It was sometime in Ma’s childhood, good look guessing when, and the Beagles owned Duckburg having clearly overwhelmed Fort Duckburg at some point in history between Clinton’s defense of it and now, with Grandpa “Pa” Beagle finally making an apperance. In the comics he was basically what Ma is to both series: the scheming brains behind the beagles who showed up on occasion and it was a good idea to use him as the past version of her. 

Scrooge naturally comes a calling and unsurprisingly Ma was lying: Scrooge offered to buy the place first from Pa, he refused outright, and then when Scrooge showed off the money he was offering, Pa bet the deed for it in an arm wrestling contest. Not only that but as Scrooge finds out as he almost looses, Pa was cheating having a smaller beagle boy operate pull a lever in a device attached to his arm to give pa extra force. Scroooge simply dropped a few coins to distract the guy and claimed victory and the deed. 

Little Ma is left dejected though and Doofus claims he ruined his life, but Louie steps up, at this poitn Scrooge has learned to reign himself ina nd accepted Louie as his defense without saying anything, a nice subtle bit. He probably realized that while irrepsonsible.. Louie has everything to loose her and no reason to slack off and dosen’t even relaly have to lie for his uncle to get him off: he’s simply using his ablitiy to see all the angles to poke holes in their story. 

Case in point, he orders the “tape” to continue and finds Little Ma berating her dad for his failure and forcefully taking control of the family. LIke Glomgold, Scrooge may of cost her something.. but it was something she and her family hadn’t earned and they were still on a bad road. Scrooge just made it worse. 

But suprisingly, its MAGICA, who we’ve established is an uncaring monster, who has a story Scrooge genuinely feels bad about. Like the rest she was not a good person: Long ago she and her brother Poe were extorting a villiage, and lording over it as gods, changing the population into goats, toads and other things. The only diffrence from what Magica would do to the blot and presumiibly others later, is that Poe reigned in her manical tend ices, trying to get her to think things through. The goat transformation was so they’d have milk and at least get something out of it and as to not waste all their slaves. Poe is voiced by Martin Freeman of The Hobbit and Black Panther fame. Great actor, does amazing work here.  So like the others Scrooge changed things, and fought someone with bad intentions for his own self. He talked Magica into fighting him with both amulets by playing into her ego and Poe trying to talk her down, and easily deflected her bolt with the dime to turn her into a crow with her own spell. So far it’s just like the other tales in a nice mirror.. it’s what comes next that makes Scrooge into a  bad guy too. Not as bad as Magica and Poe.. but sitll not good. Poe dives selflessly in front of the coin.. and shockingly while she cared nothing for Lena.. that wasn’t the case for Poe. Magica is truly devastated, desperatly trying to put the amulet back on and begging scrooge for help while he just ignores her and fills up his sack. And while they both deserved it... Scrooge and Louie both recognize he was wrong as the flashback ends with Poe escaping and Magica sitll haven’t having found him to this day. And props to Catharine Tate here a she takes a normally hammy terrible person who was wholly unsympathetic and manages to make her painfully human.  

What makes the act so terrible is not who it happened to, they both desrved it, but Scrooge’s attitude, utterly callous to magica’s pain with not a drop of sympathy. While she deserved it as did Poe.. he’s not doing this to her as some justice for her crimes, or because she did something horrible to him or any valid reason.. he’s doing it because he’d rather get more of her and poes gold than lift one finger to help someone who had , for all his evil, selflessly sacrificed himself for his sister. For all Poe’s evil and tyranny.. there MIGHT of been a good man in them, in both of them.. and Scrooge could’ve cared less. He shut the door on Magica ever becoming a good person, ever getting her brother back to line his own wallet and to satisfy his own ego. See that’s the true mark of a hero: how they treat others, even the worst of them. And in his lowest moment Scrooge could’ve cared less about anyone but himself. 

Scrooge feels bad and Louie does finally get the responsibility thing and this is where things start to go off the rails: he apologizes to Doofus and admits he dosen’t want an enteral rivalry and h’es sorry for any pain he caused. The off the rails part is because Doofus is genuinely not a good person, ahs done very bad things and is trying to bankrupt Louie for the crime of “taking half your fortune after you used it to torment and enslave your own parents’. It just.. dosen’t play as well as they’d like. That said I DO like both Louie deciding to bury the hatchet instead of just avoiding him and Doofus showing some nobiity in accepting it. Maybe he’ll change. 

He goes off into the night, and Scrooge genuinely apologizes and accepts repsonsiblity... and here’s where the plot finishing going off the rails and into someone’s living room: the bailiff AWARDS THEM SCROOGE’S FORTUNE BECAUSE HE ADMITTED SOME CUPLABLITY AND WAS HUMBLE. 

This just.. it makes no sense, it will never not baffle me and it hurts my brain> Yes he admitted some wrong doing and apologized for it.. but it was also THROUGHLY proven the other two weren’t his fault, and he was simply being a good man which should get him some good. Thankfully the conclusion is a bit better, as Louie points out while they made him, he made you so who made who, who made you... okay i’m getting into the AC/DC of things point is these incidents all shaped Scrooge into a better person.  His mistake with Magica. is clearly learned from. He’s stopping a group of bullies in Ma’s story and saving a life without a second thought in the second. He learned to value others, to value family all because THEY showed him what happens when you don’t. By seeing the worst person he could be.. he became the best. So the trial’s thrown out his assets are returned, and their teleported out before magica can hit them with lighting. Lesson learned.. well kinda Louie tells scrooge to do it because he got the pet. 

Final Thoughts for The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck:

Great title aside.. this one is a mess. It’s not a terrible episode: the flashbacks are genuinely engaging, each one helping flesh out the villians and in Ma’s case pulling one last dangling plot thread. Glomgold’s was just entertaining , clevelry using his 80′s origns for an 80′s style news special and giving us the origin to his love of sharks that we didn’t know we needed., Ma’s tied up a loose plot threat with a fun flashback and Magica’s was genuinely heart wrenching and did the tall task of making us feel for someone that terrible. The wraparound.. was a bit weaker. Doofus was the best part, playing an excellent manipulative bastard lawyer, and being a genuine threat and his walking away peacefully was a nice touch, and Louie having to defend scrooge was great and showed him off better than ever. And Louie did get some moments to shine.. it was just wierldy bookened with him acting terribly AGAIN, in a way he should know better than in an episode where he acts fine for most of it and even then he thinks lying to a judge is a good idea! I know he’s 12 but he’s not this stupid and while as I made very clear i’ve seen this shit before, I haven’t seen it flip flop in the same episode. Louie deserves better than this. 

But it’s also in service to a responsiblility aseop that just.. dosen’t work as presented. Yes you should take responsiblity for your past, yes you should learn from your mistakes and own up to them, I have, and yes it’s all too easy to slide back> That’s all fine.. but him apologizing to Ma, whose family was terorrizing a town, and Glomgold, who he did nothing to, and having Louie apologize to Doofus, who while he tried to exploit him still enslaved his own parents and deserved to loose half his fortune AND loosing half his fortune wasn’t even the main thing Louie wanted to do as his main goal was getting BOYD a loving family.. it’s bullshit. Just pure Grade-A bullshit. Why are you booing them their right. It’s a good idea for a moral but it’s executed so overwhelmingly poorly it bogs down what was otherwise an exceptional episode, into just passable.  It’s just mind numbing and saddening to know the next to last episode wasted so much good ideas on a clumsy moral. Thankfully I have hope the finale will be better, and again at least we got some good out of this one. 

Next Time: Endgame Baby! Clan McDuck and their Amazing Friends Vs F.O.W.L. for the fate of adventure itself! One last ride! I can hardly wait!

This week on the blog: Ducks Ducks and more ducks.. and a top 12 list of my faviorite superheroines later today’s for international women’s day. But after that we have more of the Della arc, the last step in the Lena arc before Shadow War next week, and the 87 ducktales pilot treasure of the golden suns!

If you liked this review, share it around, follow for more, and you can comission your own for 5 dolalrs an issue or episode, or kick in some money on my patroen, link on my blog. Even a dollar a month helps and my next stretch goal is 5 dollars away and if we reach it i’ll review both the super ducktales mini series introducing gizmoduck AND a darkwing duck episode a month. Until the next rainbow it’s been a pleasure.