#joining green day as an additional member and all i do is stand on one end of the stage and whistle into a microphone

[patronsaint-ofthedenial]

Releasing an album of Green Day covers where instead of singing I whistle slightly off key sort of like those shittyfluted versions of songs that used to be everywhere

[tsarisfanfiction]

Overgrowth

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Friendship Characters: Will, Miranda, Billie, Douglas, Steve Clearly the newest Demeter kids haven't yet got the hang of growing plants with their powers. TOApril day 14 - Every Rose Has Its Thorns. I went literal today. Also, despite Meg being the clearly obvious candidate for this prompt, I managed to go with every other TOA Demeter kid except for her, whoops. All kids in here are canon names, I promise.

“Hey, Will!”

He turned to see Billie jogging towards him – as fast as she ever moved unless she was fighting or running from something actively trying to kill her – and sighed, because the daughter of Demeter didn’t usually seek out his presence, which only meant one thing.

“Miranda wants you,” she said, then confirmed it with, “bring your medical stuff.”

“Medical stuff?” he parroted at her, bemused.  She shrugged dismissively, turning her back on him and starting to head back the way she’d come.  Will hadn’t paid attention to it, but it was the direction of the cabins so he had a pretty good idea where she was leading him.

He’d long since got into the habit of keeping an emergency pack of medical supplies on him at all times, so he didn’t bother to make a detour to pick anything else up.  Not until he knew exactly what he was dealing with; Billie hadn’t been running, even if she’d been jogging, so Will was confident that his emergency pack would at least suffice for initial treatment of whatever cabin four had done to themselves.

Sure enough, Billie ploughed straight through the door of her cabin without stopping, and Will hurried to get across the threshold before the door slammed in his face.

Cabin four was, in Will’s opinion, the strangest of the cabins.  Sure, the Hecate cabin had magic permeating every inch of it rather disconcertingly, and the Nike cabin was an active puzzle for reasons he’d never quite worked out, but there was something about a floor that was actually grass, and a central support that was actually a living, thriving tree that had never quite managed to click in Will’s head.

He was pretty sure those things were all supposed to grow outdoors, but if there was one place where they had an argument for growing indoors, Demeter’s cabin would be it.

The central tree was swarmed with other plants, which certainly hadn’t been the case that morning when Will had done cabin inspection and given cabin four a seven for scattered seeds but tidy hammocks.

For some reason, Demeter wasn’t counted alongside her brothers as superior amongst even the Olympians.  Everyone knew the Big Three was the three male godly children of Kronos, while their sisters went mostly unacknowledged.  It was difficult to understand why so many people dismissed her or her children, though.  Will had seen cabin four members consistently pull off illogical feats – always plant-related – ever since he first arrived at camp, and having seen the sheer destruction they could bring about when they wanted to, he had no intention of ever underestimating them.

Unlike most demigods, who got ADHD and dyslexia and no special powers to show for it, Demeter’s kids consistently got green thumbs and plants that would do anything they asked.  Will had never seen one that couldn’t manipulate plants to some degree, and that certainly held true for the current occupants of the cabin.

In the middle, tangled around the central tree, was a massive rose briar, complete with wicked sharp thorns and fully blooming roses the colour of blood.  Billie had made her way to join Miranda where the head counsellor was standing by the cabin’s new plant addition and trying to get the plants to move.

Inside the snarl of thorns and vines seemed to be something that Miranda was specifically trying to get to – or someone, because Will could count just fine and there were two kids unaccounted for, visually, at least.

Douglas’ thick accent was slurring out curse after curse as something struggled inside the branches.  Will couldn’t make out the exact words, but that wasn’t particularly unusual when the Scottish boy slipped into Scots.  He could get the gist, though.

He sighed, drawing Miranda’s attention to his arrival.  “What happened?” he asked her.

She responded with a sigh of her own.  “Plant growing gone wrong,” she said, gesturing broadly at the massive plant.  Some of the branches rustled with her movement, just enough to reveal a glimpse of Steve fighting inside as well.  That answered the question on where both the young Demeter boys were lurking, at least.

It wasn’t the first time it had happened.  It wasn’t even the first time it had happened to those particular boys – Douglas was an enthusiastic plant grower, and Steve was far more of an enabler than he was clearly prepared to be when it came to the consequences.  Neither of them had been in camp all that long, but Will was already well aware that they were going to be a potential headache source for him – especially once they found their own feet at camp.

Will knew the routine, so he waited while Miranda did her magic (not that she would ever call it as such when it was just her normal) and slowly got the branches to release their death grips on the two boys.

Steve was the first one to disentangle enough, rolling out of the mess with stray leaves and the odd broken off thorn stuck deeply into his hair.  He also had several freshly-bleeding scratches across his skin, and Will didn’t wait to be invited over when his role was pretty obvious.

And also very much routine.

“Can you at least try not to bury yourselves in plant matter of the injury inducing kind?” he asked as he pulled out some antiseptic wipes and began dabbing at the myriad of scratches that stood out red against the younger boy’s dark skin.

“It was Douglas’ fault!” he protested.

There was an immediate “Oi!” in a thick Scottish accent emanating from the centre of the still-snarled tangle of thorny vines, followed by what Will was pretty sure was a protestation of innocence in Scots.

“You’re not blameless, either!” Miranda called over, and Steve’s shoulders hunched up to his ears.

“It was an accident,” he muttered.  “They weren’t supposed to get so…”

“Big?” Billie supplied.  “Wild?”

“Yeah, that,” Steve shrugged, thankfully letting his shoulders drop again after a warning poke from Will.

Another sharp gesture from Miranda and Billie had Douglas spilling out from the briar as well, his own curly hair sporting a fine collection of leaves and thorns, and even the occasional petal.  He also had openly bleeding scratches on his bare skin, including one long one too close to his eye for comfort.  It wasn’t close or deep enough to cause permanent damage, or even scar, but it was a reminder of what could have gone wrong.

Will wasn’t a fan of could have gone wrongs, although he did prefer those over the did go wrongs, for hopefully obvious reasons.

He sighed again and pulled out a fresh wipe to attack the other boy’s scratches with.  Douglas winced away from the sting, but Billie grabbed him and held him still.

Neither boy was injured enough to need anything more than just the disinfecting wipe, thankfully, so Will’s medical duties didn’t take long to complete.

“At least try not to injure yourselves on your own plants,” he said as he balled up the used wipes for disposal in the infirmary.  “I’m pretty sure that’s lesson one for plant summoning.”

“Something like that,” Miranda said.  “Thanks for the assist, Will.  I’ll take it from here.”

Will didn’t need to be told twice; he was already in charge of his own cabin and anyone that ended up a patient in the infirmary.  He neither needed nor wanted to expand his responsibilities beyond that – Miranda could handle her own siblings.

“See you at dinner,” he said, and made his way out of the cabin, back to where the grass was outdoors and normal.  As the cabin door shut behind him, he heard the Demeter kids discussing the best thing to do with the rose bush and whether or not it would damage the tree – or pose an ongoing risk to demigods – if they left it where it was.

That was certainly not Will’s problem, either.  Miranda was welcome to that one.

[messers-moony]

My Everything | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Wife!Reader

Summary: When five marauders goes to two within the instance of a day. Two children are left without fathers and a wife is left without a husband.

Request: Sirius Black x Wife!reader reuniting and she's Remus sister

A/N: My first Harry Potter request. I got so excited to see this in my inbox and I hope it isn’t the last :)

Perhaps it was the feeling of betrayal she felt when he was finally gone. The fact that everything he’d ever said was a lie. She couldn’t help but think maybe his vows were a lie too. The five Marauders were now two. Only two left. How did this even happen? 

The unbreakable group of five. James Potter, the so-called leader of them all. The mom friend who always made sure everyone was okay and cared for. Sirius Black, the second in command. The mischievous, charismatic troublemaker who was always in detention. Peter Pettigrew, the outcast of them all. The shy and naive boy who gave them all a sense of logic. Remus Lupin, the intelligent and solace of them all. The only boy smart enough not to get caught. Y/n Lupin, the creative and sneaky one. The only one who could sneak and out of the Potions cabinet without Slughorn noticing. 

Now it was just the Lupin twins who, as Sirius called them, the “Linking Lupins.” It was hard in the beginning. First-year was difficult. All they had was each other. Lyall hadn’t really been accepting in the first place, but Hope was always blissfully unaware of her son's problem. All she knew was that he had to go away once a month. Lyall cursed himself out every night that Remus went away, cursing himself for letting this happen to his son. 

The cries of his baby girl begging for her brother. The wails of Y/n pleading for Remus not to go away. Not wanting to let go of him, hearing Remus from inside the room in the basement begging to be let out. Sobbing, crying for his mum or his dad to let him out, praying that the wolf doesn’t take over. Whimpering at how much it hurts the way his bones dislocate and relocate back together in a new way. 

So yeah, first year was challenging. But Dumbledore had a safe place for him to go every evening of the full moon, and Y/n would be there when he woke up every time. Remus relished in the way her hands felt in his. They were so soft compared to his calloused ones. So gentle compared to his often rough movements. Small compared to big. She was everything he wasn’t, and he was happy about that. 

James Potter was the first to talk to them with his flamboyant nature. His eyes were the lightest of browns with spotted glittering green. His smile was perfect and straight. How could someone’s smile be that way at the ripe age of eleven? Despite his aura screaming, “I’m the popular kid, and you’re the loser,” he was actually quite nice. 

Upon looking at James, the Lupin twins both thought of trouble. They remembered the popular kids from their muggle school before this one, how they used to belittle Remus for his scars and how Y/n used to push them away. So, forgive them for being a little cautious around him. It didn’t help that James’ counterpart was the opposite of them both. 

Sirius Black, lanky and confident. This boy had no boundaries and absolutely no limits. If he wanted it, he was going to get it. His eyes were the purest iron, and his smile was white like quartz. Hair black as coal and personality as gregarious as the color wheel. His style was toned back, but his character could’ve put the color wheel to shame with how bright he was. Sirius Black could’ve been the antonym to Remus and Y/n Lupin. 

During second year they found another boy who was being beaten by Slytherins for his scarlet and golden robes. He was stocky, and it seems that he was pretty timid. His blond hair was disheveled, and his blue eyes full of fright. Y/n had stepped in front of him just like she had Remus from the bullies back in muggle school. Her wand was held tight in her grip as she stared at them. 

“What are you gonna do, Loony Lupin?” One of them snarled. 

“Aguamenti.” 

The Slytherins were now covered in water. Damp like they had all taken a shower with their clothes on. Their black robes turned a shade darker. The evergreen accents turned olive, and the silver turned into grey. The main Slytherin boy gritted his teeth, and his icy eyes stared into Y/n’s e/c ones. 

“You’ll pay for that.”

Y/n pocketed her wand in her robes, smiling sweetly, “I’m sure I will. Now, run along before I do something worse.”

They didn’t want to obey, but they also didn’t want to stay in that situation. The Slytherins scurried off like dogs following their owner's command. Y/n fixed her hair with her hand and turned around. She was offering her soft hand to the boy who was frozen, shocked, staring at her. Hesitantly he gripped her hand, allowing her to pull him up. She was only slightly shorter than him. 

“Y/n Lupin.” She introduced, “You are?”

“Pe- Peter Pettigrew.”

Y/n bowed playfully, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Peter.” 

“Pleasure.” Peter muttered shyly as her group of friends approached. 

Remus swung an arm around her shoulders, “You’re bloody brilliant, you know?”

“Our star.” Sirius swooned jokingly as Y/n punched his shoulder, causing him to pout, “Who’s this?” James queried, looking at Peter, who cowered under the hazel-eyed gaze. 

“Boys,” Y/n smiled brightly, “This is our new member of the Marauders. Peter Pettigrew.”

Peter fiddled with his hands anxiously, “New- New member?”

“Mhm!” Y/n hummed, “You’re our new addition.”

James smiled, “Any friend of Y/n’s is a friend of ours. Welcome, Peter.”

From then it went from four to five. Peter never really stopped thanking them for letting him in. For the first time, Peter felt at home, and it was thanks to Y/n. He realized how kind she was, how creative she was. It was so strange. The group was so different, like extraordinarily diverse, yet they worked together so well. Y/n and Remus seemed to be the brains of things. James and Sirius seemed to be the trouble makers. Peter just did his own thing but always contributed. 

In fifth year Remus started to worry. Everyone was so secretive. They stopped hanging around as much, even his sister. It hurt. It really hurt to see them seeking around on the map that he and Y/n created together for the most part. It wasn’t until during the winter break did Y/n finally realize what they were doing affected them. 

Remus barely cried. Or at least that’s what people made it out to seem. Remus actually cried a decent amount. He was snuggled up in his room. His blanket encasing him, and his arms held around his pillow tightly, gripping it as if it’d leave him like he felt everyone else was. His heart felt broken. Y/n was outside his door, hearing his soft cries, and gently knocked on the door. 

“Rem. Can I come in, please?”

He didn’t say anything, so she just let herself in. The door closed behind her with a click, and she saw her tall brother curled up into the tightest ball with silver streams on his cheeks. Y/n sat in front of him and rubbed the side of his arm. Remus’ eyes continue to release water like a dam that had been broken. He couldn’t swallow it no matter how hard he tried. 

“What’s wrong, Rem?”

Remus didn’t say anything. He just dug his head deeper into the pillow he was holding. Y/n’s hand made its way to his sandy-colored hair. She was scratching at the scalp and smoothing his hair away from his face keeping the strands from getting wet. Her hand hesitantly reached his cheek and wiped away the tears that kept falling. 

She sighed, “Remus, please.”

“You’re- you’re gon’ leave me, aren’ you.” Remus choked. 

“Leave you?” Y/n questioned softly, afraid if she raised her voice any more, it’d make things worse, “I wouldn’t leave you if I was given a chance, Remmy.”

He sniffled, “You- you haven’ been a- around.”

“I know.” Y/n soothed, caressing his cheek, “But there’s an explanation for it. James, Sirius, Peter, and I have been distant. We know that. But there’s a reason for it. You’ll find out soon.”

Remus’ eyes met his sister's warm e/c ones, “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never.” 

He smiled gently. The corners of his lips barely curled, but she knew it was there. Remus had fallen asleep with his sister's hand in his hair. When she was sure he was sleeping, Y/n left the bedroom, allowing him to sleep peacefully. Then she wrote a letter to James where she knew Sirius was staying too. 

One more week, Y/n thought. One more week of this Mandrake leaf in their mouths until they could be done with this. 

It took another month before it was ready. Before they were ready. They were in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom when they started. James started first. When he turned into a stag, they all began laughing. James turned back, pouting. Sirius turned second into a huge black dog. Y/n smiled and petted his head. 

“Very fitting, Sirius.”

Sirius turned back, letting Peter turn next. He was so tiny that Sirius almost stepped on him. James and Y/n sniggered at their rat friend. Next was Y/n, who turned into a graceful cat. Her fur was black, and her eyes were a striking e/c. James smirked and nudged Sirius. 

“Matching animagus’, eh?”

Sirius scowled, “Cats and dogs don’t match.”

Y/n turned back, “Don’t they?”

“Ready for this full moon?” James asked them all. 

“‘Course!”

“Yep!”

“Can’t wait.”

That full moon was better than them all. Remus had people to join him. There was something that he noticed, though. Every time he’d get close to the cat, the dog would growl and stand in front of her. It was like the dog was protecting what was his. Y/n noticed it too. Every time Remus got close, Sirius stood in front of her, keeping him at a safe distance. 

It wasn’t until a quiet night in the Marauders dorm did Remus finally bring it up, “Sirius.”

“Remus.”

“How long?”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, “How long what?”

“You know,” Remus moved his hand in a circular motion for him to continue, “How long have you liked my sister?”

“Woah, Remus.” Sirius stated in shock, “That’s quite the accusation.”

Remus tilted his head, “Is it?”

“Yeah. It is.” Sirius replied, “Y/n is my friend. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“So, you not sleeping with any girls for the past year is just a coincidence?” Remus questioned knowingly, “You staring at her during class and parties is just on accident?”

Sirius’ cheeks went pink, “And it’s definitely a coincidence that you always hug her first after every Quidditch match.”

“Okay, fine, fine.” Sirius confessed, “I like Y/n. I have for a while.”

“So why haven’t you asked her out?”

“Excuse me?”

Remus shrugged, “Why haven’t you asked her out yet? You know she enjoys going to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks.”

“Mate, have you forgotten we’re talking about your sister?” Sirius asked, “Like your twin sister?”

“I know.” Remus replied, “She likes you too, you know.”

Sirius’ eyes were practically bulging out of his skull. How in the name of Merlin was Remus so calm about this? He said it so casually as if they were talking about the weather. Sirius expected Remus to get angry or throw a book at him. 

“Are you- Are you giving me permission to date your sister?”

“As long as you don’t hurt her, sure.”

Sirius hesitated before asking his next question, “Can you help me do it?”

Remus smirked, “Casanova of Hogwarts can’t ask out Y/n?”

“Please, Remus.” Sirius begged, “I really like her, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Remus snorted, “You always fuck things up.”

“That’s why I need you!” 

Remus just smirked triumphantly. 

“Pleaaaseeeeeee.”

“Alright, fine.” Remus relented, “Just be cool about it, yeah? Take her to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks. She’d enjoy that a lot. Maybe take her to Tomes and Scrolls.”

“You’re a lifesaver!” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Remus rolled his eyes, “Now shut up. ‘M tired.”

The following day Sirius and Y/n did go to Hogsmeade together. She was amazed when they went into Honeydukes together. She picked out some of her favorite sweets and some for Remus since the full moon was a week away. When she went to pay for it, Sirius pushed her hand away, paying for it himself. Y/n wouldn’t stop thanking him. 

Next, they went to Tomes and Scrolls. On any ordinary occasion, Sirius would’ve hated this. Truth be told, he wasn’t really a reader or a book person in general. But for her, he’d do absolutely anything. Y/n picked out some new books and began raving to Sirius about one in particular. So again, Sirius paid for them and told her to find a table in the Three Broomsticks. 

Sirius went to the area where the book she was raving about was found. He grabbed one for himself, planning to read and annotate it for her. Maybe he’d give it to her as a birthday gift or just a random gift. Nonetheless, he knew she’d love it, and Sirius would fall off a cliff if she asked him to. 

Inside he found her sitting with a hot chocolate and a butterbeer for himself. Sirius slid into the booth smiling at her. They talked about everything and anything. Sirius even went as far as to tell her some stuff about his family the other guys didn’t know about. He went on about how he envied Remus and her relationship wanting the same thing with Regulus. 

Sirius told her how he wanted his future to look. How many tattoos he wanted. Where he wanted to live. How many children he wanted. So on and so forth. He was so open and so honest it surprised her. Generally, if someone asked Sirius what he wanted his future to look at, he’d just shrug. Now he was spilling everything to her. 

It didn’t take long after that for them to become official. Remus smiled when she announced it. He was happy for her. Remus could see how happy Sirius made her, and for that, he was grateful that someone could take care of her in his absence. Y/n only wanted that for him too. One day she’d have a family, and Remus wouldn’t be her main priority. That scared her because, for all seventeen years of her life, it was just her and Remus. 

After graduating from Hogwarts, they got married. It wasn’t anything huge, especially with Voldemort on the rise, but it happened. James was Sirius’ best man, and Marlene was Y/n’s maid of honor. Remus walked Y/n down the aisle and gently kissed her cheek before letting her go. Seeing Sirius and Y/n get married made James overjoyed to marry Lily, but that would happen all in due time. 

So what was it that made her feel this way? Was it the betrayal? Was it the dishonesty? Was it the disloyalty? What was it in truth? The moment Sirius was locked away in Azkaban, everything changed. When Remus heard about it, she was his first stop. Inside he saw her with a baby on her lap. Their baby boy, just a year old. He was born only months before Harry. 

Little Perseus Sirius Black. Y/n’s pride and joy. He was everything to her. Remus had walked into the house seeing his broken sister holding her child close to her as he cried. Remus walked in and gently took the child from her arms, allowing her to lean on his shoulder as he held Perseus. The little boy smiled at the familiar face of his uncle. 

“Rem!” 

Remus smiled softly, “Hey, Perseus.”

It took a long time for Y/n to collect herself. Remus had taken a spot in the house since he couldn’t find a place by himself. Y/n worked at the ministry most days, and Remus would take care of her little troublemaker. As Perseus grew, he looked more and more like his mother. The same e/c eyes and h/c hair. The only thing that made him look like a Black was his defined body and facial structure. 

The sharp jawline, the defined nose, the straight cheekbones, the semi-hollow cheeks, and the pointed chin. His features were that of the Noble House of Black, yet he could’ve made his way to look like a Lupin even more. For a while, Y/n worked a lot. She was trying to keep her family afloat. But it wasn’t until Remus said he got a job offer at Hogwarts did she have to stop. Working for her felt like nothing. Every day she was worried about Perseus going to school. Especially with Sirius being out of Azkaban. 

The night that Remus saw Peter Pettigrew on the map, he knew something was wrong and sent Y/n and owl for her to come to Hogwarts. Without hesitation, she did. On the night of that full moon, she was also down in the Shrieking Shack, holding Harry close to her, not wanting him to get hurt. When everything got resolved, she cried. 

Y/n went home that night rethinking everything. A week later, Remus and Perseus returned home. She couldn’t remember holding Percy that tight ever. Y/n was just thankful that he was safe and he was home. That night that Y/n and Remus told Percy what really happened, why his father was never really in the picture. 

A year later is when Perseus finally met his father - well, that he can remember. He was fifteen now, going into his fifth year at Hogwarts when Y/n and Remus took him to Grimmauld Place 12. It felt foreign, and it felt evil. Needless to say, Percy didn’t like the place. Inside, Sirius was waiting for them along with many others. 

When the door opened and shut gently, he knew it was her. For the first time in over twelve years, he’d be allowed with his wife again. The woman he loved and the woman he felt the most solace with. He’d also see the boy that he used to know grown up into a young adult. The young gentleman Sirius always wanted. 

Perseus stood in front of her, Y/n’s hands on his shoulders. Sirius almost chuckled at it. Percy was protecting her even if she didn’t know it herself. He stood in front of her for a reason, to make sure she’d be safe. Sirius stood in front of them, swallowing harshly. 

“Remus, Y/n.” He choked on the last name.

“Good evening Sirius.” Remus greeted politely, “How have you been?”

Sirius shuffled, “I’ve been better.”

Remus hugged him, whispering in his ear, “Don’t fuck this up.”

“Hey, Siri.” Y/n smiled with tears in her eyes, “Hey, love.”

Gently she walked in front of Percy and hugged him tightly. Sirius’ arms went around her waist, and his nose dug into her hair. The scent of her perfume and shampoo calming his nerves slightly. Y/n dug her head into his neck and placed her arms around him. They pulled away and smiled. Gently he kissed her forehead. 

“I’m sorry for believing that you would ever,” She looked down, “You know.”

Sirius picked her chin back up gently, “You have nothing to be sorry for, love.”

Y/n kissed his lips softly. His lips were far from how she remembered. They were no longer soft and tasted of smoke. Instead, they were chapped and tasted of firewhiskey. Perhaps some things never change. Their lips melded together perfectly, just as they did so many years ago. They pulled apart, smiling brightly. She pulled from his embrace to stand by his side. 

“Sirius, this is-“

“Perseus, I know.” 

Perseus smiled nervously; they had the same smile, the same straight smile, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

It was silent for a while as Perseus shuffled, “Are you- are you staying this time?”

“I’d like to.” Sirius replied, “I’m not quite sure the extent of my living abilities, but I’ll be here.”

“I’m- I'm in Slytherin.”

“Okay.”

Perseus looked incredulously, “Okay? That’s all you have to say?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with being in Slytherin.” Sirius stated, “Your heart is in the right place.”

“How would you know?” Percy snapped, “You’ve been gone for most of my life. You don’t know anything about me.”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, “So you standing in front of your Mather was just a happy accident? You weren’t planning on protecting her. Shall something go wrong?”

Percy looked at the ground, “Someone had to make sure she was safe while you were gone.” 

“That’s not fair.” 

“Life isn’t fair!” Percy yelled, “You left us. You don’t realize how badly you hurt her while you were gone.”

Remus walked back into the corridor to see Y/n frozen staring at her son. Sirius was standing in an argumentative stance. Percy’s eyes were filling with tears of frustration as he stared at the man who abandoned him from the start. 

“You left me. You left mum. You left Remus.” Percy cried, “How did you expect this to go, huh?”

Sirius didn’t say anything, “Did you expect me to be happy?! Did you expect me to hug you and fall into your arms?!” Percy shouted, “Because I’m not. I’m not happy, and I’m not going to fall into your arms and hug you like a naive little boy. My mum deserves better than this bullshit.”

“Enough!” Remus snapped, and Percy froze, “Your father is risking his life to be here right now. To meet you. I get it. I wouldn’t be happy either if my father did what Sirius did. But with things, the way they are right now is holding a grudge really that important?”

“N- No, sir.”

“Percy.” Y/n called, and he stared at her with watery eyes as she approached him, “I get it. You’re angry, you’re upset, but he’s still your father. He wants to be here now.”

“B- But he-“

“I know, my love. He’s going to try and make up for it. You don’t have to trust him right away. You don’t have to say ‘I love you’ right away. He isn’t expecting that.” Y/n wiped the tears from his cheeks, “All he’s expecting is his son. The little boy that he last saw.”

Percy looked down, “I know you aren’t that little boy, and I wish you still were. The little boy that used to make me smile and laugh. The little boy that used to cause mischief around the house driving Remus mad.” 

Sirius smiled, “You’re older now, and that will take some getting used to. I know you don’t remember, but Sirius used to be the only one who could get you to stop crying. He used to hold you all night, sleep with you in the rocking chair.”

“Sirius used to babble nonsense to you while I was at work. He used to take you to the park. Make you laugh by turning into a dog.” Percy sniffled, “Back then, Sirius was your everything, baby.”

Percy hugged his mom tight, “I- I’m scared.”

It was only loud enough for her to hear, “Why, baby?”

“What if- what if he leaves again?”

“He’s not going to.” Y/n moved the hair from his face, “Sirius wouldn’t leave us unless he had to.”

Percy knew what that meant. Sirius wouldn’t leave unless he got killed or died. Percy looked at Sirius’ eyes which were filled with tears from recalling the moments of his past. Y/n smiled reassuringly before Percy allowed himself to hug his father. He was wrapping his arms around his stomach, nuzzling his nose into his chest. 

When they pulled apart, Sirius smiled, “You’re my everything, kiddo.”

[moonbeamsung]

You’re Just a Boy in a Blueberry Field

No fruit is sweeter than a summer love.

member: haechan

au: blueberry farmer!haechan x gn!reader

word count: 5.0k

genre: fluff, very light angst

warnings: mentions of food

author’s note: It’s here! I actually wrote most of this last summer, but only recently did I find the time to edit and get it ready to be posted. I added some parts and changed a few things, and now I like it quite a lot, so I hope you do as well! Thank you @astroboy-lele​ for beta-reading :) As always I would love to hear any feedback on this, and I hope that you enjoy the fic!

taglist: @astroboy-lele @kyuwoyo @rvse-hvvck @nakamotocore @kisshim @leejunini @chicksung @mrkcore @radiorenjun @moon-jun @jisungiest @stayctday @byutafy @jujubean23 @treasurehobi​ @bluejaem​ @lyshoonn​ @vera-liscious​ @allegxdly​ @cupfullofjeno​ @thats-a-jen-no-no​ @yo-ddream​

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @culture-cafe @dreamlab-nct @k-dinernet 

Thank you lovely Ana @rvse-hvvck for this additional header!

Donghyuck knows everything there is to know about those blueberries.

Without even pausing for the briefest of moments to think, to instinctively recall the information instilled in him throughout his childhood spent on the farm, he can answer any question that’s thrown at him. He can point out just the right color of berry to pick so that they’ll be ripe when you eat them later. Likewise, he can also tell you which ones are best to eat now, as you pick them, pretending not to notice when you pop one or two into your mouth and grinning when your eyes light up from the sweetness.

A day comes where he, filled with mischief as usual, places a not-so-ripe blueberry into your hand, and you, being so wrapped up in the peacefulness of the morning that surrounds you, fail to notice its red color and don’t think twice about lifting it to your lips, biting into it with your teeth. When the tart taste meets your tongue, your face contorts into an expression that elicits a raucous fit of laughter from him. You’re the first one in the fields that day. When the sun had risen on the horizon, the fleeting touch of color in the sky that dawn left behind still lingering above, he had been there, sitting on the front porch as always to greet customers.

Donghyuck knows every bug that loves to rest on the branches of the blueberry bushes. After spending so much time next to you as you scan them for the pops of vivid blues and purples that are hidden behind jade green leaves, he begins to learn that you are not fond of any bug, no matter how harmless. It’s cute, he thinks, how you inspect every berry that you drop into your basket, fearing that some small creature is lurking on it. If you do find something, he hears a small noise of both surprise and disgust before you fling the perfectly good berry away from you. It also hurts a little, knowing that it’s one less for you to take home.

When more people arrive at the farm after you, he’s forced to leave your side and get them started on their own search for the delicious fruit that’s nestled among the branches of nearly every bush. And if they ask where the best ones are, he specifically points them in the direction of the fields where you aren’t. It isn’t a lie, really, because they’ve had a good harvest everywhere this year.

...Okay, so maybe it’s a little selfish on his part, but who can blame him for wanting you to have some of the most plentiful bushes all to yourself?

Wednesdays are his favorite because it’s always the least crowded of all the mornings they’re open for business, and he can spend more time following you as you make your way down the rows, admiring the focus on your face and the way that you sometimes pause mid-reach, closing your eyes and standing still as the sun peeks through the clouds and casts its warm glow down onto the farm. A gentle sigh tumbles from your lips, darkened by the violet nectar that remains from the countless blueberries that have crossed their usually pink-tinted threshold. You resume your search after a few seconds, catching his eye and returning a smile he didn’t even know was there.

He makes the berries taste a little sweeter when he’s next to you. The purple juice that stains your fingers is a little darker. The sun feels brighter and warmer than ever, its heat shining down onto your skin.

One particular morning, after you finish picking all the blueberries you can carry, you decide to accompany Donghyuck on the porch, sitting beside each other in matching rocking chairs that first belonged to his great-grandparents, the farm’s founders. The familiar sounds of birds chirping and the low mumbling amongst customers meet your ears. You both gaze fondly at the horizon while immersed in casual chatter, all the while tending to several families as they come and go.

Whenever a car turns off of the two-lane, paved road and onto the noisy gravel path leading into a small grassy area that functions as a parking lot, Donghyuck excuses himself from the lively conversation both of you always find yourselves sharing. He stands, brushing his hands off on his faded denim overalls that are only slightly too large for his frame. His hand lifts up the baseball cap he always wears while the other runs through his hair, and your gaze falls on the back of his neck where it rests in longer strands. You always wonder why he keeps it like that since he complains about how hot it makes him feel. The humid summer air is stifling enough as it is, after all. The thought vanishes only moments after it arrives, though, and he flashes a brilliant grin at you over his shoulder as he descends the wooden stairs leading down to the patio.

Today, a happy looking family gets out of a shiny silver minivan. The mother and father with two kids, a boy and a girl, make their way toward the covered patio and Donghyuck bounds down the steps like always, grabbing 4 stacked pails in his calloused hands. You lean forward a little in the creaky old rocking chair, your weight in your toes, ears just barely picking up his conversation with them. He greets the parents warmly, shaking their hands and then he kneels down to be eye-level with the small children. The little boy seems shy as he clasps his fingers in front of him, thumbs twiddling back and forth, while his sister is clearly the opposite. She skips over to the much taller boy, saying hello.

“Do you two like blueberries?” He asks them, one arm resting on his knee and the other extending a pail out in front of him. The young girl nods enthusiastically before she takes the container from his hand and turns around, passing it to her brother as he nods, making eye contact with Donghyuck for the first time. A small smile grows on his face when he’s met with the wider one of the unfamiliar but still welcoming stranger. His sister speaks up again, “Every Friday we get to help Mom make her famous blueberry pie!”

“Is that right?”

“Yep! In the morning we always go to the supermarket and get fresh blueberries,” she explains. Her mother leans down, softly telling her that this week they’re here to pick blueberries instead, fresh from the farm they were grown on.

“Really? So that means we’re not buying them at the store anymore?”

“Well, honey, today we can pick enough blueberries to last us for a whole month’s worth of blueberry pies.”

“And besides,” Donghyuck starts, still kneeling on the ground next to her, his boot leaving an imprint in the dirt underneath it, “it’ll taste even better since you picked them yourselves, don’t you think?” The boy punctuates his question with a wink.

The young boy steps up for the first time, grin stretching even wider as he finds the courage to happily agree with the wise words. Exclaiming eagerly and in a way that only a child can, he takes his sister by the hand that’s not holding his small bucket before scurrying off, their parents close behind after grabbing pails for each other as well as a third that their daughter had forgotten in the midst of the excitement.

As Donghyuck joins you on the porch once again, you can’t help but smile as you remember how he interacts with each and every customer that passes through the weathered fence surrounding the property. When he talks to kids in particular, his eyes seem to light up, and you see just how much of a kid he still is deep down. His playfulness never fails to make an appearance whenever you spend time with him.

You’re thankful for the moo of a cow in the distance that interrupts his question of why you’re smiling like an idiot and hopefully drowns out the steady sound of your pounding heart.

The next week he tells you that the rest of his family is out of town, and he’s been left with the responsibility of running the farm all on his own. He usually does most of the work himself these days anyway since he’s getting older and more mature, although some of his jokes say otherwise. You miss the way his mom would poke her head out of the upstairs window of the main house, calling out a greeting to you both from across the property, overjoyed at the sight of her son spending time with the particular customer he’s mentioned so many times before. Whether he would share an amusing anecdote of yours with his siblings at the dinner table or point out something that reminded him of you, it was far too easy for her to figure out how he feels about you.

In an effort to spend more time with him, keep him company and just help out in general, you offer to stay at the house with him for a little while. Or at least until his family gets back from their trip, and to your delight, he agrees. You arrive in the late evening, on a day when the fields are closed, just in time to catch the setting sun as it disappears behind the trees and power lines that seem to stretch for miles in the distance. Tugging an overnight bag of belongings with you, you knock twice on the wood of his front door.

It opens swiftly and Donghyuck welcomes you inside, wearing an apron that he must have outgrown 10 years ago, at least. You snicker at the snug choice of attire and he shoves your shoulder, though not with enough force to make you stumble. He whines a little in that saccharine-sweet voice of his that makes your heart clench, but you don’t give in. Not this time.

When the farm is closed for the day, the family has a chance to pick from some of the bushes that are planted in a more secluded area, all to ensure that they also have a big enough supply of the fruit to last them for the season. So Donghyuck had woken up at the crack of dawn, although you aren’t sure why. He had made his way downstairs and out into the dewy air of the morning, gathering just enough blueberries to bake a cobbler that night when you came over, since he’d learned it was your favorite treat after hours of conversation about anything and everything. The recipe comes straight from his great-grandfather, he informs you, and it’s written on a yellowing piece of paper in handwriting that you couldn’t read even if you tried. He, however, can somehow decode the seemingly nonsensical swirls and lines on the page. You suppose it’s part of the magic of the family recipe that gets passed down with it.

Donning an apron yourself, you join him at the sink as you begin washing the berries, gently grabbing a handful at a time as you let the tap water clean them. When you both reach into the large container at the same time, your hands brush and you almost scoff at the swell of your heart that you feel inside your chest.

As you’re working together to make the batter that you will soon pour into his mother’s finest glass baking pan, Donghyuck briskly swipes his fingertip on the side of the bowl where the mixer had splattered the combined ingredients, extending it in your direction. You raise an eyebrow at the boy and said fingertip before turning your head away.

“If you really think that I would lick that off your finger, then you’re terribly mistaken.”

Coyly, the mischief-maker in question retorts back as you glance at his impishly delighted expression. “Are you sure?” 

“Positive,” you state rather firmly, but matching the mirth in his eyes with a glimmer of amusement in your own. “I’ll settle for the spatula, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, your answer completely expected. At least he tried. 

You won’t deny that you enjoy sampling a bit of the batter of a dessert as much as anyone. But not that much.

Left with no choice, he takes himself up on his own offer and sticks his finger into his mouth with an audible ‘pop,’ exaggerating the action just to get a rise out of you, feeling the upward curl of his lips when you react ever so slightly with a silent chuckle.

You’re adding the last bit of flour to the mixture when you accidentally get some of the powdery substance on your hand in the process. Turning the automatic mixer off, you momentarily forget about your stained skin and you make the mistake of wiping your face with the back of your wrist, smearing the white stuff on your cheek. Donghyuck notices, of course, and an innocent attempt to help clean up the mess only ends with the two of you blushing like crazy.

“Let me help you,” he speaks up.

“Don’t be ridiculous, the pan’s not that heavy, and even if it was, I’m strong enough anyway—”

You’re about to pick up the glassware but his sudden strides over to you from across the large kitchen cause everything you were saying, doing, and thinking to come to a complete stop. You’ve never really had a problem with personal space before, but right now he’s leaning down and his face is so close that you’re afraid to even breathe for fear that the action might just throw you off balance and towards him. For fear that you might not push his chest away with your hands if that happens.

He’s bending his knees to match your eye level and his hand lifts from its place at his side, hovering in midair not far from where the flour still lingers on your skin. His eyes had been so focused on the stain but the shrinking proximity between you and him pulls his gaze from your cheek to your eyes, blown wide and confused because you still have no idea that there’s something on your face.

The undoubtedly palpable tension in the room almost reaches down his throat and pulls the words from his vocal chords in an effort to dispel the heavy air circulating around the both of you.

“There’s… uh… you have flour…”

Donghyuck still hasn’t broken the less than comfortable eye contact, but he’s unable to look away for reasons unknown to him. After an agonizing amount of seconds your brain switches on again, albeit slowly, and you’re able to properly process the position you’re currently in. Your own hand starts to lift and though the movement is slight, it’s enough to draw his eyes down to it and he finds the strength to complete his goal at last.

His thumb swipes across your cheek and without even thinking he pops it into his mouth once again, forgetting about the unpleasant taste of flour. The way that the boy’s face scrunches up when the bitter powder meets his tongue doesn’t eliminate the awkwardness completely, but it’s a start. You hastily make an effort to avert your gaze as you frantically wonder if he caught your face that’s surely as warm as a blazing fireplace, all because he did the unthinkable with that stupid finger of his.

You won’t let yourself dwell on how his hand is just the right size to cradle the side of your head, or how much nicer his lips look up close, or how they must taste like the blueberries that he snuck into his mouth as you made the cobbler, or how you wished he had used his lips on your cheek instead of his thumb.

How you wish he had closed the almost nonexistent distance between your flushed faces.

These thoughts do nothing to ease the steadily growing heat that’s currently taking over your skin. Your eyes land on the glass pan and you take the opportunity to grab it, acting as a sort of distraction for your mind and also as something to snap you both out of your embarrassed hazes.

You get the finished dessert into the oven with no trouble after that, and now you have a little over half an hour of time to kill before it’s ready, so Donghyuck leads you into the nicely furnished family room and plops down onto the plush couch. When you don’t immediately follow he glances up at you, sensing that you’re still hesitant after the awkward moment. He smiles softly and almost apologetically, as if he’s sending a silent signal that you’ll both move past it soon enough, an invitation to put the incident behind the two of you. And you accept it.

You take a deep breath before you sit down next to him, sinking into the cushions underneath and behind you. The material dips slightly under the weight of both your bodies and gravity itself seems to be in control as it pushes you together, shoulders bumping and the sides of your legs being pressed up against each other. Thankfully, the television roars to life with the laughter of a live audience on one of your favorite shows, and you exhale a puff of air you didn’t even know you were holding in. With every scene that lights up the large display, you curl up further and further into his side, his arm migrating across the back of the sofa and winding around your shoulder only a few centimeters at a time.

This feels like home. Donghyuck feels like home.

The buzzer of the oven interrupts when you’re halfway through another episode, prompting you to jump to your feet just as abruptly as the alarm-like noise had started blaring. Consequently his arm flops down by his side as he mentally curses the loud intrusion into what had become a comfortable atmosphere, an atmosphere that was finally surrounding you again after what felt like an eternity but had really only been an hour.

In no time, you’re returning from the kitchen, the warm blueberry contents of the cobbler oozing out onto the flowery pair of plates you had grabbed from the cupboard. Handing one to him and setting the other aside for yourself, you quickly go back around the corner to grab two tall cups of cold milk. Your second time joining him on the couch comes more easily, almost all of the earlier tension having dispersed into the room, wafting out the windows along with the delicious scent of the fruit baked into the sweet, flaky crust. In fact, you’re fairly sure that it’s strong enough for even his neighbors down the road to smell. Which reminds you: you need to package some up to deliver to them tomorrow, per Donghyuck’s suggestion.

You’re most definitely sure that he smells the aroma, of course, because it’s hard to ignore the eagerness with which he takes a large bite of the dessert. “We make better bakers that I thought we would,” the boy comments, taking a sip of milk. The white mustache that it creates above his top lip when he lifts the glass to his mouth is enough to make you giggle, and you’re unaware that this predictable reaction was his objective all along. He grins, rather satisfied.

With your stomach now full, a head-plaguing drowsiness begins to set in. It slowly fills your senses enough for you to drift off, fork nearly falling out of your hand and onto the floor before he catches it, along with your weight when you slump down against his shoulder. Donghyuck is barely able to reach one of the end tables, and he sets the dishes and silverware down next to the now empty cups. Your body unconsciously clings to his like a koala to a branch, with both hands clutching one of his arms and a leg hooked over his thighs.

He takes one look at you and wishes he could pause time, to stay here forever. It’s not every day that he meets someone who can easily match the amount of snark he possesses. Simultaneously, you also balance out the friendship you share with your compassion and sense of wonder about the world, always evident in your morning routine when you come to the fields. Donghyuck has noticed that you bring out those same qualities in him, perhaps more than anyone else ever has. And just like you’re holding him right now, he vows to hold on to you.

As much as he doesn’t want to get up and for the evening to progress, he knows he should, that it has to. So he manages to detach from the hold of your limbs, gently pushing himself up and off of the couch so he doesn’t disturb you.

Glancing at the large antique clock above the doorway that leads out into the hall, Donghyuck realizes it’s much later than he thought. He decides to turn in for the night, but on a regular day he usually finds himself still awake well past midnight, despite the need to wake up early the next morning and run the farm from the crack of dawn.

Since you’re tired and he doesn’t want to risk you waking up alone in an unfamiliar bed and place, he comes to the conclusion that he’ll join you. Only leaving your side for a moment, he puts the cobbler into the refrigerator and turns off the kitchen lights behind him as he goes. Softly padding halfway up the stairwell, Donghyuck makes sure there’s enough light for him to see where he’s going before making his way back into the living room one last time. He tucks one arm underneath both of your bent knees as tenderly as he can, and places the other behind the middle of your back, hand gently curling against your waist. He carries you with probably the most delicacy he’s shown in his entire life.

Going upstairs is generally an easy task, but doing so while carrying another person is a different story. He would never forgive himself if he were to hurt you in any way. If even your foot happened to bump the wall next to you, a burst of frustration at himself and his own carelessness would surface regardless of the impact’s intensity

Your position in his arms gives him yet another opportunity to gaze upon your peaceful expression, and he begins to think more deeply about what you are to him. Looking forward to your visits makes his work so much more enjoyable and worth it. You’re someone who truly appreciates what he and his family do for a living and you faithfully support them with your business as a customer whenever you can, which is a rare thing to find in most people that come. Most are just bored and in need of something to occupy themselves or their kids. Sometimes they don’t even pick that many berries. But you always make sure to bring your own basket, which holds just as many as if not more than the ones the farm provides, and fill it to the brim. In his eyes, you’re special.

Amidst the mostly-asleep state that you’re in, your eyes just barely open far enough to see a blurry picture of Donghyuck’s face as he carries you through the house and up into the bedroom he had suggested you share. He sets you down onto the soft mattress before pulling the covers up to your stomach, retreating into the attached bathroom to quickly change into a thin t-shirt and his favorite pair of plaid pajama pants.

The memory of that conversation floods back to you. Initially, you refused the offer, saying that he would rest better if he had more space to move around. But being the clingy person he is, he had pouted desperately as you struggled to stand your ground in the discussion. “Fine,” you had huffed, only half-frustrated with those doe eyes he always uses to get his way, and your lips had great difficulty holding back a smile.

The hum of electricity that can be heard emanating from the next room snaps you out of these thoughts, and is enough to wake you up a bit more. Your gaze scans the surroundings for a minute or two before he opens the door again, his eyes now looking as heavy as your own.

Donghyuck joins you under the blanket and shifts to lay on his side, facing you. It’s funny that you’re both able to adjust to a situation so intimate and new almost instantly. Still on your back, your head turns and you’re conscious enough to raise an eyebrow at the boy. There’s that pout again.

“Please?” He mumbles, his bottom lip jutting out in an action he’s perfected. You know exactly what he’s after: cuddles.

You don’t even try to hide the playful roll of your eyes as you scoot a little closer, but it’s not close enough for him. He gets impatient, meeting you halfway, and this time it’s him that flings a leg over yours. An endearing, small noise of contentment from him fills your ears as you take notice of his arms, now interlocked behind your neck and around your shoulders. You melt into the snug position, a hand landing on his forearm that’s laying across your chest. Turning ever so slightly to the side, your other hand winds around his middle and eventually rests just above his hip, pulling him into you even more. Donghyuck nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, a few strands of your hair tickling his skin as he sighs in complete and utter bliss.

Determined to savor the moment until the irresistible inevitability of slumber starts to overtake you once more, you fight to stay awake with all of your might. But in what you thought was only the blink of an eye, the glittering stars visible through the bay window’s sheer drapes morph into the pale golden rays of first light. There’s a soft murmur of your name along with an unintentional, almost imperceptible peck to the place where his lips meet your skin, and you’re wide awake. Not to mention a little shocked.

He’s utterly unfazed, though, slowly waking up now that the sun has gotten brighter, its beams filtering into the room and hitting his already glowing face that becomes a gorgeous honey-colored hue.

Donghyuck reluctantly withdraws his arms from your form after one last embrace, effortlessly rising from the wrinkled bed sheets and offering his hand to you when you start to do the same. A sleepy smile makes a home on his features and he reminds you of your task to deliver a portion of the dessert you made to his next-door neighbors.

That’s exactly what you do, first making yourselves presentable in the bathroom by smoothing down wild bed hair and freshening up your faces with cool water. Being around to see each other’s natural morning states is a major act of trust, and he doesn’t miss an opportunity to poke fun at you for it.

“How long does it normally take for you to do your hair every day before you come here?” His tone is dripping with feigned innocence, but the sly grin on his lips says otherwise.

“Shut up, Hyuck.”

Tupperware container in hand, your shoes step in rhythm with his as you amble along the grassy shoulder of the street together. Somehow you end up hand-in-hand by the time you reach his neighbors’ front patio.

“Donghyuck!” The elderly woman at the door greets him with a twinkling voice, her husband coming into view soon after. “Look who it is, honey,” she motions fondly to the boy who they both once knew to be much shorter and younger, but now is all grown up before their eyes. “You’re getting so tall. It seems like only yesterday you were scurrying through the blueberry fields and waving to us through the gaps in the fence.”

“Yes ma’am, it does,” he responds politely. The couple has been living there for as far back as he can remember, and quite honestly they feel as if they’ve become part of his family, too.

Her warm brown eyes light up. “Is this the customer your mother was telling me about last week? She mentioned how close you’ve become, and now I’m finally seeing it for myself. You make a lovely pair.”

“Oh—” Donghyuck startles. Not much can get him flustered, but he hadn’t exactly been anticipating for his mom to recount all the things he’s said about you to the sweetest and most innocent of elderly couples. Of course they would assume that there’s something going on.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, with you. He wouldn’t mind at all, really. He’ll just need to have a word about a little thing called privacy with his mother later.

You see the glint of panic in his eyes and speak up. It’s not often he makes such an easy target for teasing. “Thank you,” you state graciously, the smugness in the statement only noticeable to him. “We’re very happy together.” He feels you lean into him, fingers unwrapping from his and gripping the other side of his waist. You know exactly what you’re doing, and so does he.

Almost forgetting to hand over the slices of cobbler you’d cut earlier, Donghyuck nudges you to do so, and the four of you exchange thanks and farewells before you’re on your way back to the farm.

“Happy together, huh?”

“Shut up, Hyuck.” You mumble something else afterwards that he doesn’t quite catch.

“What’s that? Didn’t hear you,” he sings, stopping in his tracks. You do the same. “Shut up and what?”

“...And kiss me.”

After many days and many nights spent wondering, you can confirm that his lips do, indeed, taste as sweet as the blueberries in those fields.

[katnissmellarkkk]

how about Katniss’s birthday before the Quell — do we hear much about that? if anything? if not, what about Peeta taking a timeout from his trainer persona to bring her something like a cake? 🥺

I’m always a little insecure when I do post prompts because I don’t know if it’s exactly like the prompt but I actually think it’s like 99 percent close? Which is like, amazing for me because I always twist prompts a little 🤏🏻 and I don’t think I did here! Anyways! I finally wrote this soooo. Well actually I wrote most of it a while back but I finished it and cleaned it up. But anyways, yay! I hope you and everyone else who blesses me by reading enjoy this! It’s short — at least for me. I don’t know the exact word count but … probably too long for a drabble but a short oneshot. Okay anyways, if I keep talking the AN’s going to be longer than the oneshot.

Since the morning after the Quell was announced, I’ve done my best to not cry again about my given fate. Going back into the arena a second time—this time with all experienced killers, who have been friends for decades, no less—was daunting, but one morning of weeping is about all I could afford.

Not that I truly had time to wallow in my own misery. Peeta had me and Haymitch on a tight regimen. Every day he pushes us further, every day he orders us to cut the breaks between circuits shorter, to keep on running, to not lose our momentum, to hit the target again and again and again. And again.

It’s even gotten to the point, as of late, that Peeta’s mother, the witch herself, has forbidden our usage of her precious flour sacks as weights, claiming she still needs the ingredients to keep the bakery running and we’ve already wasted enough.

Her son is rather put out with her — to put it lightly — but for perhaps the first time ever, I’m grateful to the sour woman. Last year, when I cited Peeta’s ability to toss a sack of flour over his shoulder, I didn’t recognize what a true feat it really was. Even after two weeks of attempting to lift the stupid, heavy objects, it still took all of my strength to even get the stupid things off the ground.

Haymitch and me so much as shared a conspicuous smirk when told we no longer have to endure that particular activity.

Of course, Peeta still insists on heavy lifting to gain muscle, trying to find a substitute for the flour sacks in way of buckets filled with gigantic rocks and overfilled water jugs. This doesn’t seem to be of much strain to him or Haymitch — and therefore, not of much help to their training — but I can visibly see the difference in my arms day to day. Having never done much lifting in the past, since it’s hardly necessary for hunting or trapping, it’s particularly fascinating to me, watching my biceps grow larger as Peeta’s insistent training plan marches on.

But Peeta still feels the need to push himself further. Perhaps even more so than me — or our now very sober mentor — he feels the urge to always put additional strain on himself, more and more with every day that passes on by.

And as of today, his dissatisfaction with the lack of heavy weights available for his training finally reached a head when he casually pitched the idea of using me as a weight.

At first, I thought he was kidding. For a solid minute, I just stared at him, waiting for the punchline.

It was only after I glanced at Haymitch’s uncharacteristically earnest face that I realized there was no joke in the matter. I debated refusing for a moment before I sighed, resigning myself to becoming a human leverage.

It took over an hour of Peeta lifting me over his head, of being swung up in his arms, being whirled over his shoulder or seesawed up and down, for me to realize this was actually a nice break for me from the rigorous training. By the day’s end, I’m perfectly content to let my fake fiancé bench press me, throw me up like the sack of flour he covets so badly and whatever else he deems necessary.

It was only later on the walk home, right after Peeta said he needed to stop by the bakery to see his father, that Haymitch predicted the true reason for my day of leisure.

“I suppose that was the boy’s birthday present to you.”

My head whips upwards towards him, shocked. No one has mentioned the date at all as of late. The acknowledgement of the sparse time left until the games is weighing heavy on us all. “How do you know it’s my birthday?”

Haymitch raises an eyebrow. “Because I do,” is all he says finally, as he turns in the direction of his own house now. Just as he reaches his door though, he murmurs, “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” before heading inside.

Ever since the announcement that I’m doomed to be reaped again, my mother and Prim have done just about everything to make things seem okay around the house. Beyond that even. They’ve dedicated themselves to always appearing cheerful, to always having dinner ready for me, to always having a remedy for healing my achy muscles or advice for putting on more weight.

But if they’re usually chipper, tonight they’re downright ecstatic when I cross the threshold. And the reason is all too obvious.

This is likely going to be the last birthday we spend together. And not just of mine, but any of ours.

It strikes me unexpectedly that I’ll never see my own sister grow up, I’ll never see her into adulthood, I’ll never be able to watch her become the talented healer, the wise beyond her years young woman, the nurturing mother she’s doubtlessly destined to be.

And I almost get choked up at the thought. My resolve to not break down into tears like the morning after the president’s announcement nearly crumbles. But I hold it together somehow. By some inexplicable strength deep inside, I hold myself together.

My mother did her best to recreate the lamb stew dish from the Capitol I loved the best and I practically lick my plate. Not just to make her feel good but because all this training has exponentially increased my appetite.

Prim tells me all about school and Lady and a funny man she healed this afternoon, who had a proclivity for telling jokes while she stitched his bleeding arm.

She’s just getting into a pretty fabric she saw in town today when a loud knock interrupts us. My mother glances at me meaningfully, as if urging me to go get the door.

I shoot her a puzzled look, as I’m the least personable member of this family and surely, no one is here to visit me.

“Go on,” she says though, nodding towards the entryway. “Go see who’s there.”

I stand from the table and hesitantly humor her, unsure the entire walk there what could be awaiting me on the other side.

The answer dawns on me as the most obvious thing in the world, as soon as I turn the knob.

And see Peeta standing on my porch. He’s still in the same white shirt he wore earlier, still damp with sweat from the heat outside and the added exertion of lifting my body weight countless times.

But that’s not all I notice. Right off the bat I see that he’s holding something delicate in his hands. I blink once before recognizing what it is.

A birthday cake.

A birthday cake that has been meticulously frosted into a deep pine green. My favorite color, as he knows.

I realize after a moment that my name is cursively splayed across the top in white icing.

“Peeta,” I open my mouth to say something, to say just about anything, but much to my dismay, nothing comes out and I’m stuck fumbling like an idiot in the doorway.

He gives me a tight smile though and it’s the first smile he’s really showed me in weeks, and as he gently pushes the cake into my hands, it strikes me just how much I’ve missed the sight. “Happy birthday, Katniss,” he whispers, his baby blues lingering on my face only for one beat before he quickly turns to make an escape.

Before I can think it through, I’m calling after him. “Peeta, wait!”

Very slowly, he swivels around to face me. “Yeah?”

I freeze, dumbfounded. I don’t actually know what I wish to say now that I have his attention. That I miss him even though I don’t know how I really feel for him? That I plan to trade my life for his in only a few weeks time and all his work and effort to prepare me for the games is useless because it’s him I intend to come back home? That I hate his trainer persona so much and I wish he’d go back to just being my friend again?

That I really miss it when he acted like friend?

Instead all that comes out is a choked invite. “Come in,” I urge, and the plea in my tone is palpable. “Please come in and share this with us.”

He thinks about the proposition for a long moment, leaving me still standing there like an idiot, holding a cake too big to fit in my hands. Finally though, he graciously relents to my request. “Okay,” he murmurs and I swear I see something akin to excitement in his eyes.

And I wonder in the back of my mind how many nights Peeta spends alone, eating these delicious desserts by himself in his too grand dining room.? I wonder if, deep down, he secretly wanted to join me and my family for cake? If he misses our attempt at friendship too?

He generously takes the cake back into his hold, having the advantage of strength over me. Lifting bread-trays and flour sacks all his life made him reasonably strong before our first games. The current training regimen him and I — and Haymitch too — are currently doing has made him remarkably strong.

“Thank you,” I whisper again as he brushes past me in the doorway, as he enters my home and heads in direction of the dining room where Prim will doubtlessly be overjoyed at the sight of the sweet treat.

“You’re welcome, Katniss,” he says again, and flashes me one more smile. This time it’s less shy and with teeth. “Happy birthday.”

Yes, I think to myself as I shut the door behind us. Happy seventeenth birthday to me.

[aceghosts]

“Just open the damn present” for Blue and Joseph??

Thank you for the prompt! I apologize that this took so long, but I wanted to hold off on posting it until after Thanksgiving. Also, this turned out very fluffy, like Hallmark levels of fluff, and I blame it on the fact that I kept listening to Mariah Carey's All I want for Christmas Is You on repeat while working on this.

[Prompt List]

Summary: Joseph Seed makes sure that Deputy Blue Murphy isn't alone on Christmas.

Words: 2, 908 words.

Warnings: While this is very fluffy, I do need to give a warning for referenced past child abuse/domestic violence/alcoholism. However, it is very brief and Blue doesn't go into much detail, but just be aware.

AO3

“FATHER!” Joseph Seed turns around to find Nancy, dispatch at the Hope County Sheriff’s Department and member of the Project at Eden’s Gate, running towards him with an urgent look on her face. She holds a blue glass pan with a green plastic top in her hands; through the glass, Joseph could make out that it was some sort of pasta dish. Nancy reaches him, panting heavily. “Is it true you’re heading to the station? Brother John said you were.”

“I am, my child. Do you have business there? I thought Sheriff Whitehorse gave you the day off,” He asks. The one person Joseph wanted to see did not get the day off. As the Rookie of the station, Blue got the worst shifts, including Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

Nancy nods. “Earl did, but I was planning to bring Deputy Murphy some home cooking. I hoped to cheer them up. Why are you going to the station?”

“I have something to give Deputy Murphy,” Joseph replies, his hand reaching up to touch the scarf around his neck. The scarf was a soft golden color, made of a warm, gentle material. On the right end of the scarf, his initials, J.S., were embroidered. On the left end, the symbol of the Project. He remembers the way Blue’s steel eyes twinkled with happiness as they shoved the present towards him. They were so nervous when he opened the gift, asking if he liked it. Joseph knew it was a simple scarf, but it meant more to him, a sentimental gift given by a truly loved one. Every time, he looked at the scarf, Joseph felt a warm feeling in his chest. In turn, Joseph hoped to give Blue something that they could cherish equally.

Nancy raises an eyebrow, a knowing twinkle in her eyes. “You know, Deputy Murphy is a real sweetheart. They’re always making us laugh at the station. If Deputy Murphy joined, I’m sure they would make a great addition to the Project. Are you two close?”

“We’re friends, and I agree that Deputy Murphy would be a valued member if they chose to join the Project.”

Nancy smirks as she shoves the pan towards him. “Do you mind giving this to Deputy Murphy? It’s my lasagna, guaranteed to be a hit. I’m sure Deputy Murphy will be very thankful when you hand it to them.”

“I will.” Joseph takes the pan clumsily into his arms. He swallows nervously, unable to ignore the hidden meaning in Nancy’s words.

--

Joseph opens the door to the station, the bell ringing above him. As he steps in, balancing the glass pan in his hands, something hits him in the middle of the forehead. Stunned, Joseph steps backward, glancing down to find a paper plane on top of the pan. Looking up, Joseph finds Blue staring at him with wide eyes and mouth agape, horrified. “Shit!” Blue swears, leaping over the front desk and nearly face-planting on the ground. They catch themself with their hands, popping up to their feet. “Are you okay, Joseph? I didn’t hurt you too bad, did I?” They race over to him, standing up on their toes to get a better look at his forehead.

“I’m fine.” He says, smiling teasingly at Blue. “Do you normally assault people with paper when they come into the station?”

Blue steps back, letting him in. They roll their eyes, giving him an affectionate smile. “Only the ones dumb enough to cause trouble on Christmas. You causing trouble, Joseph? Santa might have to put you on his naughty list.”

Joseph laughs as he steps into the station. “No, I come bearing gifts,’ He hands the glass pan to Blue as he stomps the snow from his shoes, ‘It’s lasagna. Don’t worry, Nancy made it. It should be safe to eat.”

They look guilty as Joseph catches their shoulders relaxing in relief. “Tell Nancy I say thanks! At least, I’ll get a home cooked meal for Christmas. I’ll be right back; I’m going to put this in the break room fridge.” Blue excuses themself, heading towards the breakroom kitchen.

Joseph nods, unbuttoning his long, dark grey wool coat. As he shrugs it off, Blue returns, hands free of the pan. They grin crookedly as they notice the scarf around his neck. “Hey, it’s the scarf I got you!” Blue exclaims as Joseph hangs up his coat on the coat tree. “It’s looks really handsome on you,” They complement as they reach out to touch the scarf.

“I love the scarf; it’s quite warm. I’ve been wearing it a lot lately,” Joseph replies, taking their hands in his. “It means a lot more that it came from you.”

Blue blushes, an adorable sight. “Well, I’m glad you like it.” They say as they pull their hands awkwardly out of his hands.

“I almost forgot!” Joseph reaches into the pocket of his wool coat, pulling out a small, wrapped box. “This is for you, a Christmas gift.”

They take the box, staring awkwardly at it. Blue glances up at him and then back down at the box. “Er, I think the box is too big for this, but you’re not asking me to marry you, right?”

Joseph shakes his head. “No, but you should open it,” He replies, pulling the scarf off and hanging it up with his coat. “Maybe next year,” Joseph teases, a smile on his face.

Blue laughs, rolling their eyes affectionately. Looking down at the box, a guilty look crosses their face. “Joseph, I can’t-“

“You can.”

“You really didn’t have to-“

“But I did. So, open the gift.”

“I think this might be-“

“Please open the gift.”

“Sheriff Whitehorse might-“

“Blue, just open the damn present.” Joseph encourages with quiet exasperation. He doesn’t really care if it is against the rules; He just wants Blue to open the damn thing.

“Okay.” Gingerly unwrapping the box, Blue nervously opens it, eyes widening in surprise.

“Do you like it?” Joseph asks, anxiety overtaking him. He messed up. He should have asked John or Faith for advice. Those two always knew how to give a good gift.

Blue looks up, radiantly beaming at him. “Oh Joseph! I love it!” They pull him into a tight hug, burying their face in his chest.

He eagerly wraps his arms around them, appreciating the warm feel of Blue against him. “I hoped you would,’ He replies softly, rubbing their back, ‘I know your old watch had a lot of special memories attached to it. Hopefully, you can make some new ones with this watch.”

“It’s already happening.” They laugh, eyes twinkling with joy. His eyes flicker down to their lips. Joseph starts to lean down, closing the distance between the two. Blue rises to meet him, their lips inches away from his. Before the pair can meet, the phone rings behind at the front desk. Blue quickly pulls away, racing towards the desk. “Sorry, Joseph. I gotta take this,’ They apologize before picking up the phone and sitting on the edge of the desk, placing the box beside them, ‘Deputy Murphy, Hope County Sheriff’s Department. How can I help you?”

Joseph waits, hoping the phone call will be done soon. Internally, he’s frustrated at whoever called. He was so close to-

“Thanks, Earl. I’ll let you know if anything changes.” Blue hangs up the phone, smiling apologetically at him. “Sorry, Whitehorse was just checking up on me. He felt bad about leaving me alone in the station on Christmas.”

“You’re alone?”

Blue raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? I thought you would have figured that out already since Hudson and Pratt aren’t here, snarking your ass off.”

“Well, you’re not alone,’ Joseph shakes his head, ‘Not anymore. We’re spending Christmas together.”

“Joseph, I’m on shift. I can’t leave the station, and I’m sure your people need you. Plus, you know how Sheriff Whitehorse feels about Eden’s Gate. He won’t be happy that you’re spending all day here, at the station.”

“They will be able to handle themselves for a time. I need only to be back in time to prepare for the Midnight service. As for Sheriff Whitehorse, I tell him I needed assistance and Deputy Murphy was only too happy to comply. In fact, I would tell him that Deputy Murphy went above and beyond the call of duty to help me,’ He replies, coming to sit on the desk next to Blue, ‘I’m staying here with you. We can spend Christmas together in the station.”

“Really?” Blue nervously tucks a strand of brownish blonde hair behind their right ear.

“Absolutely. So, as I understand it, you were attacking the door with paper planes because…?”

Blue shakes their head. “Nope. We have some board games behind the desk. Since, you are being sweet and staying here, you get to choose what we play while waiting for calls. I have some board games or cards! So, what’ll it be?”

--

“Tell me about a Murphy family Christmas. I am curious as to how you spend the holiday when you are not being forced to work this shift.” Joseph says, before taking another bite of lasagna.

Blue’s head rests on his shoulder as they place their fork down on their plate. “Nadia, Eric, and Christina come over on Christmas Eve. Eric and Nadia are my best friends and Christina is my goddaughter. At this point, they’re all practically family. Anyway, we spend most of Christmas Eve inside, snacking, playing games, and watching movies. Things, uh, usually get interesting when it comes to board game portion of the day. I love Nadia, but she’s really competitive,’ Blue admits sheepishly, ‘My mom and stepdad will go to an evening Christmas Mass, and we’ll have dinner ready by the time they come back. Towards the end of the night, I’ll dress up as Santa and pretend I’m delivering gifts. Christina is still young enough that she gets a kick out of it.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow. “You dress up as Santa?”

“Yep. Nadia even helps me look the part. After I’m all dressed up, I even climb on the roof with a fake sack. Watch!” Blue places their plate down, scrambling up on the chair. They wobble a little bit, nearly slipping off the chair as they climb up. Joseph places his plate down quickly, holding out his arms to catch Blue as his heart leaps into his throat. Blue eventually stands up on the chair, slightly unsteady. They do their best imitation of Santa Clause, hands on their hips. “HO-HO-HO! I’ve come to deliver gifts to all the good children of Hope County,’ Leaning down, they tease Joseph, ‘Have you been a good boy this year? I’ll even let you sit on my lap if you have been.”

Joseph shakes his head, a bemused smirk on his face. Blue climbs down, laughing at their silly joke. They nudge his shoulder playfully as he looks over at Blue. With a sheepish grin, Blue explains, “Nadia, Eric, and I all had shitty childhoods. We just try and give Christina the Christmas we didn’t get as kids. I know, kind of silly, huh?”

“It’s not silly. What were your childhood Christmases like?”

Blue looks away, the smile dropping off their face. “It’s not really important. It’s-“

“Blue,’ Joseph stares at them intently, hoping Blue will trust him, ‘I want to hear about it.”

“We’re having such a nice time. I don’t want to talk about depressing things.”

“It’s not depressing. I want to know.” They bite their lip, debating to tell him. Joseph knew Blue was thinking of the warnings given by the Sheriff and the other deputies. “You can trust me.”

Blue sighs, looking back at him. “Nadia’s parents were divorced and had their new families. Problem was, neither of them wanted Nadia, and Christmas turned out to be a great way to reinforce that message. Eric grew up in a really strict and abusive religious household, one of the ones that don’t really let you practice Christmas. Plus, they disowned him when Christina was born. And well, for me, Dad was a drunk asshole and believed everyone should be miserable with him on Christmas. So, my mom and I usually had a small celebration on Christmas morning before he woke up and started hitting the bottle or his family again,’ Looking up at him, Blue awkwardly smiles, ‘Please tell me your childhood Christmases were happier.”

“I can’t.”

Blue frowns. “Oh, shit. Joseph, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“You wouldn’t have.” It was true. Out of all the things Blue and Joseph talked about, neither talked about their childhoods. “We didn’t have Christmas much. Neither with our Birth Parents or with the foster families. Jacob managed to do small things for John and I when we were still together,’ He says, looking at Blue, ‘I suppose we have that in common.”

They hug Joseph, burying their face in the crook of his neck. Joseph wraps his arms around them, rubbing Blue’s back. “I’m so sorry,’ They apologize before releasing him after a minute, ‘But your Christmases are better now, right? I imagine John goes all out on Christmas.”

He nods, a faint red on his cheeks. “John makes an effort for us to have the Christmases we never had together, especially on Christmas Day morning.” Joseph pauses, thinking of his younger brother affectionately. “He focuses too much on the material, but I know his heart is in the right place. In a way, it is the thought that counts. Afterwards, the Project will have dinner together, a feast of sorts that evening. What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Working, but I get off earlier, around 5 PM.”

“Then, you should come join us for dinner; don’t be alone on Christmas Day.”

“Joseph, I shouldn’t,” Blue replies, shaking their head.

“Is it because of the dispute between the Sheriff’s Department and the Project?” He narrows his eyes. Blue looks away, and Joseph places his hand on their chin, forcing them to look at him. “You should come. Consider it a Christmas Truce, a way to get to know the community you serve better.”

Blue sighs. “Let me sleep on it.”

He nods. “Please think on it. It would make me very happy to see you there.”

They tilt their head, eyes narrowing as they notice something. “Stay still,” Blue says, moving their face from his hand. Grabbing the paper towel next to them, Blue brings it up, wiping the edge of his mouth. “Sorry, you had a little something there.”

“Thank you,” He replies, his voice soft. Again, he and Blue were a few inches away from each other. Joseph notices the faint flush on their cheeks and neck, the way their eyes fixate on his lips.

As Joseph thinks of leaning in closer, Blue clears their throat. “We should clean up before we head back to the front desk,” They reply nervously, practically jumping out of their seat.

“As we should.” Foiled again.

--

“Will you be safe to drive? Looks like it’s starting to snow out there.” Blue asks, clearly worried for his safety as they shrug on their uniform jacket.

“I will. Will you be able to get home safely?” He asks in return, pulling on his coat.

“Absolutely. I’ve driven in worse conditions before, and my truck is all ready for the weather.” Blue walks over to him, grabbing his scarf off the coat rack. They help him wrap it around his neck before knotting the scarf comfortably. “There you go!” Blue smiles as they step back, proud of their handiwork.

“Thank you.” Joseph already misses their touch as he finishes buttoning up his coat. When done, he holds out his arm for Blue to take. “Please let me escort you outside.”

Blue laughs happily, hooking their arm in his. “Alright, Mr. Seed.”

Joseph leads the pair out of the station, soft flurries falling around them. Blue releases his arm, pulling their keys out of their jacket pocket to lock the station behind them. Joseph looks up, noticing something familiar above the door. “I did not know Hope County Sheriff’s Department was in the practice of putting mistletoe up.”

Finishing locking the door, Blue looks up in surprise. “Huh, they-“

Joseph doesn’t let them finish. His hands come up to cradle their face, pressing his lips to Blue’s lips eagerly. They stiffen in shock for a second before their hands grip the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer. He nips at their bottom lip, Blue letting him in. Their lips taste like mint; it must have come from the Chapstick they were putting on earlier. He pushes them against the door, trapping Blue between him and the door. When Joseph pulls away, Blue is slightly breathless and red, staring up at him with giddy desire in their eyes. “I have wanted to kiss you all day. I’m glad I finally got the chance to.”

“Me too.” Blue smiles before wrapping their arms around his neck and kissing him again. “Thanks for making this a good Christmas. I’ve never had a friend do that for me before.”

“Friends? I think we’re more than that.”

Blue rolls their eyes, laughing as they give his shoulder an affectionate shove. “Alright, I’ve never had a boyfriend do that for me before, but don’t push it." They tease.

He laughs before kissing them earnestly again. Blue was right; this was a good Christmas.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Enforcers Part 1: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: As a Kitsune, you're tasked with sniffing out the illegal activities of the underground and reporting them back to the Civic Service Bureau. You'll be partnered with a Leviathan, who is the muscle to carry out the arrests, but can you handle what he brings to the table?

wc: 2.1k

tw: none

masterlist

“Chins up, kitsune! Leave your confidence at the door, and become one with your fear. For the first time in your lives, you will come to stare death in the face. And, unlike at that rubbish academy you were at for the last four years of your life, this is the real deal.”

You look at the man pacing in front of you, his blonde hair slicked back and eyes covered with a pair of peculiar glasses. He’s wearing the standard grey uniform for the upper ranked kitsune with a spotted tie, which would normally be out of uniform, but he’s the head of communications in the Civic Service Bureau, so it doesn’t matter.

“There’s only one thing separating you from a Leviathan in this world. You there, tell me what it is!” Nanami Kento points to the pink-haired boy beside you and Yuji Itadori gulps.

“Uh… cool haircuts and tattoos?”

You groan internally, wondering how he made it through the four years of training without dropping out. “Incorrect. Y/n, tell me what separates you from a Leviathan in the Civic Service Bureau.”

“Our lifespan.”

“That’s right. On average, a kitsune will live ten to twelve years longer than their headstrong and combative partner, hence why there are more of them than there are of us. But that doesn’t mean be reckless. The entire bureau relies on the intel, insight, and reports you bring back from the field. Now, if you think this isn’t the desk job you were promised, you are free to leave. You were only invited here based on your ability to spy and not be caught. But if you’re ready to serve your nation in the most honorable way, stay here.” Not a single person out of the four of you shifts their movements. “Perfect,” Nanami murmurs, eyeing you all carefully. When his eyes rest on you, you notice the different assessment he gives you. It’s the one thing everyone does the first time you meet:

Is she as good as her parents were?

You’re here not only to answer that question but to exceed it. Your parents raised you for this moment - to take on any task thrown at you, spy as well as they did when they were in the Kitsune. You would do all of that and more, then when it came time for you to settle down, you would marry a fellow Kitsune and live in the Grand Sun District with your peers. The trajectory of your life looks like an arrow, shooting straight for the stars and never coming down until your own star wanes into the night. But by then, there would be a legacy tied to your name, and no one would be able to besmirch your reputation. Ever.

“Alright, you will all be paired with your Leviathan after dinner. Go and freshen up; you have a long night ahead of you.”

“Sir!” You all salute the man with fervor, then you’re ushered to your temporary dressing quarters where you’re instructed to shower until you’re thoroughly cleaned, then to dress in the standard Kitsune uniform - a light grey shirt and grey pants, with a grey jacket. As you stand in the shower and wash, you remember your parents’ words:

“You’re the reason there’s still good in this world. As a Kitsune, you give balance to the chaos of the universe.”

They always made the job seem like a superhero’s task, but you learned much more about the types of jobs you would take on when you went to the academy. But you’d risen to each and every challenge, no matter what, and graduated second in your class, behind Nobara Kugisaki.

As you slide on the pants provided to you, you wonder who they’ll pair you with. In the past, each Leviathan was paired with their equal Kitsune, which meant you would be paired with the second-ranked in the incoming group. But they changed that rule when Gojo Satoru switched from being first in the Kitsune to being first in the Leviathans a year ago, disrupting the entire ranking system. Ranks from the Academy were just a formality now, thanks to him.

“Fall in line!” You toss your jacket on, then join the other three in the main room, coming face to face with Yuki, the head of the Kitsune and Reconnaissance.

“You all look like a spry bunch. But I hate to say that the Leviathans you’ll be paired with are tougher than last year’s group. Excluding Gojo, of course.” You all hold your breath, but she smiles, turning to Nanami. “Dinner should be ready soon.”

_____________________________________________________________

The cafeteria is silent with Yuji, Nobara, Maki, and you eating as quickly as you can, trying your best to scarf down the tasteless meal before introducing your partners. Finally, once you swallow down your water, you stand, grunting.

“Alright, I’m done.”

“Hey, hotshot,” Nobara huffs. “We don’t meet them until they’re ready. And you know how Leviathans are.”

“Slow, lazy, quick to anger,” Yuji groans and Maki nods, shrugging.

You sit back down, tapping your fingers on the table. “Perhaps they could speed it up.”

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Yui wonders innocently, pulling apart his bread roll.

“I want to get to work,” you admit, cracking your knuckles. “I’m itching to sniff out and dismantle some organizations.”

“Just because your parents took down the Motivir Group doesn’t mean you have to live up to their reputation.”

“Doesn’t mean I can slack off, either,” you grumble just as the doors to the cafeteria slide open. Yuki walks through, her brow raised curiously.

“It seems that they’re ready. Are you all set?”

The walk to the auditorium seems longer than it actually is as you pass by endless barracks, one of which would end up being where you stay in an adjoining room to your Leviathan. As your shoes clang on the metal rafters connecting the barracks to the main building, your heart beats feverishly in your chest. Of course, your Leviathan will be impressed that you’re the daughter of two prominent Kitsune, but would they expect you to--

“Watch your step.” You descend the staircase to the lobby of the auditorium and wait patiently for the doors to open. When they do, they reveal the hundreds of waiting Civic Service Bureau members, including the head of communication (Nanami Kento), head of surveillance (Mei Mei), head of foreign affairs (Yuta Okkotsu), Gojo Satoru, and of course, head of the Leviathans, Toji Fushiguro.

He sits in front of his group on the right side of the stage, elbows on his knees as he watches you all parade to the left side where the other Kitsune are seated. A scowl is painted on his face as he eyes each of you, and the Leviathans behind him look equally as bored, whispering to each other and snickering. You analyze the group, taking in their all-black attire and various haircuts, piercings, and tattoos.

When you look over to the Kitsune, they all look polished - hair slicked back, arms and legs free of any visible markings, and light grey attire. The only piercing you see among the crowd of your peers is in the ears, and even those are easily hidden. It wasn’t that you all were prudes or traditional, but to blend in, you had to be a blank slate, mentally and physically; adult tabula rasa.

“Is this thing on?” Toji groans, tapping the microphone just handed to him. You take your seat as he begins to speak, grumbling his words without enthusiasm. “Right. As you all know, today is the day when our newest members are paired with their partners and sent off on initial missions for an assessment of compatibility, blah, blah, blah. I’m going to skip the bullshit and get straight to the fun part.” Yuki mutters a string of curses as she gets up and snatches the mic from him, pushing her partner off to the side.

“Apologies, you all. We do have to read the pledge of the Civic Service Bureau before we continue.” You all stand, tapping two fingers to space between your brow and then to your heart, where they rest as you chant:

“I pledge allegiance to the Civic Service Bureau and to keeping the nation safe with authority, strength, and boldness.” The words echo in the auditorium, and then you all retake your seats.

“And now, a memorial to our fallen Kitsune and Leviathans.” The lights dim as the hologrammed faces of various Leviathans appear above the crowd. In addition to the many faces, there are two outlined in gold: Kitsune.

“Did you hear about the Leviathan that got his Kitsune killed while on a mission last year?” Maki whispers to Yuji, and you frown, turning in your seat.

“Huh?”

“Yeah,” Yuji answers. “I heard the Leviathan didn’t execute the raid properly, and the Kitsune was murdered by--”

“Shh!” Nobara hisses, turning back to watch the faces fade into the light, and the lights come back up as Yuki brings the mic back up to her lips.

“Alright, now I’ll pass it back to Toji so he can… do his job.” Yuki glares at the man and passes him the mic as he grins at her lazily.

“Thanks, Yuki. Such a riveting presentation. Let me start off by saying this year’s Leviathans have the grit and determination that moved even the Grand Council.” The Leviathans roar in response to this admission, acknowledging the head members of the Civic Service Bureau, who were conveniently not present. “Now, at the head of this year’s class, we have my own son, Megumi Fushiguro.” The black-haired, green-eyed man comes up to the stage, forgoing anything other than a blank look as Toji clasps his arm in solidarity. “He will be partnered with Nobara Kugisaki, as directed by the Grand Council.” Everyone claps as they should.

Nobara and Megumi shake hands, then move to the back of the stage to stand together.

“Next, we have Noritoshi Kamo,” Another blank-faced black-haired man. “And he will be paired with…” You anticipate your name being called second, thinking maybe they’ve reinstated the rank pairs rule. “Maki Zen’in.” You watch her walk up to Noritoshi and shake his hand, then join Nobara and Toji’s son. “Next, Choso Kamo and Yuji Itadori.” The two men forgo the traditional handshake and instead perform their own special handshake, no doubt practiced for this very moment. You look up to the elder Fushiguro, wondering who in the world was left for the daughter of heroes.

“This year, as we mourn the tragic loss of first-year Kitsune Yu Haibara, the Grand Council has moved to reassign his Leviathan in a show of forgiveness. So, for the second time - and for the first time in history - Geto Suguru will be paired with Y/n, as directed by special order from the Grand Council.” You don’t move from your seat as the massive man walks up to the stage, his black eyes roaming the crowd for his partner - you.

“Go,” Yuki urges you, but you can’t move.

There has to be a mistake.

“Y/n, please come up to the stage….” Toji rumbles. “Before I lose my patience.”

No. There’s something wrong.

“Get up there.” Yuki grabs your arm and lifts you out of your seat, pushing you toward the stage unceremoniously. When you finally stand in front of Geto Suguru, you look into his eyes and see… nothing. He stares at you, his silver nose ring shining in the lights, just like his long, black hair. But you don’t even shake his hand, opting to walk to the back and stand there, dumbfounded with crossed arms. Geto joins you, looking equally as miffed.

“Okay, great. So, that’s over, and now I can take a nap. Go have some light desserts, talk, get to know each other, and then go to your barracks.” Once everyone files out, you follow, searching for Gojo and Nanami. When you find them conversing at the chocolate fountain, you interrupt their conversation, temper flaring.

“Who chose that failure to be my partner?” you growl, pointing your finger at the man who lingers by himself at the back of the room, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the others.

“Whoa,” Gojo holds up his hands, taking a step back. “That’s a Grand Council question.”

“Partners can't be reassigned except in extreme circumstances,” Nanami reminds you. “This seems like an extreme circumstance, y/n.”

“He let his Kitsune get killed!” you yell, catching the attention of a few others nearby. “If you think my parents will allow this to--”

“Your parents are still under the directives of the Grand Council,” Yuki mentions, walking up to you. “They can’t get you reassigned even if they tried.”

“We’ll see about that,” you hiss, striding out of the lobby and to your assigned barrack before closing yourself off.

[biaswreckme]

tear you apart | jjk

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader (established relationship)

Member: Jungkook

Length: 2267 words

Genre: smut

Rating: 18+

Triggers/Warnings: smut, bdsm, sub!jk, domme!reader, a bit of noona kink, praise kink, edging, ruined orgasm, overstimulation, rimming (not really though?), fingering (m), sex toys, crying, dacryphilia, safe, sane, and consensual sex, aftercare

A/N: So this emerged in a network chat conversation with @joheunsaram​ and somehow it turned into a request but also I needed to write this fic. It turned out wilder and kinkier than I thought it would be, but well, I guess that’s what happens when you’re working a lot and haven’t written any smut for a while. Thanks to @taegularities​ for beta-reading this ♥ ilysm and I’m sorry? haha. joheunsaram, I hope this live up to your expectations, and I Hope you all enjoy it 👀

Summary: No plot really, just some really filthy porn. 

This can be read as a stand-alone fic or as a part 2 to My Euphoria (in the sense that it’s the same idol!Jungkook/reader universe).

He always looks so incredibly pretty like this. Brown doe eyes wide open; moistness gathered in his eyelashes; face, ears, neck, chest flushed with a delightful shade of pink, enhanced by the sheen of sweat that perpasses his body; the small high-pitched whimpers and whines that leave his mouth, his begging. You lick your lips, looking at this beautiful picture you have been painting for the past couple of hours, appreciating your masterpiece. 

The first strokes of your brush happened in the living room, with Jungkook sitting on a chair with his arms tied behind his back, legs secured with the softest of scarves to the furniture in a way that displayed his erection and balls to you. You had teased him there, soft touches to his cock, the pressure never enough for him to be fully satisfied, slowly bringing him to the beginning of the edge and letting go time after time. You checked in periodically, needing to know he was still with you, and he always answered “green, noona”, his voice small and eyes glossed over. You continued painting the picture as you watched as small beads of sweat started to glisten on his body. He struggled to not move and his closed-mouth moans started turning into whimpers. And then you moved to the suite, getting more comfortable and giving his limbs some rest, but his cock stayed hard, the tip leaking with his arousal.

And now, he is lying on your bed, waiting for what you are going to do next, his eyes pleading for some mercy. You reach the box of toys that are carefully and neatly organized under the bed, watching his eyes widen even more in expectation. It is time to bring out the new addition to the collection, perfect to keep him even more on the precipice as you deny his falling. You see his chest raise in time with his breath, a little quicker now, as you walk to the bathroom to wash it, and then put it on the bed alongside with its remote control, the bottle of lube, a towel, and some disposable gloves. This is not the first time you’re doing this, but he has never tried this type of toy before, so you are very intrigued as to what he is going to think about it. 

He obeys you promptly when you tell him to turn over and spread his legs. You get on top of him, starting to kiss the back of his neck, slowly going down the expanse of his back, kissing each mole. You hear his sob at the same time you see him clench his hands by his head and you stop, worried.

“Kook?”

He turns his head to the side and you see his furrowed brows as he says “green, please, noona, please…”

“Please what, Jungkook?” You feel the relief running through your body.

“Please,” he whines, “don’t tease…”

“Well, love, I want to tease you a little bit more and you want to be a good boy for me, don’t you?”

“Yes, noona, but…”

“Can you be a good boy for me, Kook?”

“Yes, noona.” His mouth turns into a pout and his brows furrow a little more, and you almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

“If you can be a good boy for me, I might let you come, how about that?” The plan that you made for this scene in your mind solidifies.

He answers with a nod and gets back into position, relaxing his body and laying his head on his crossed arms. So you continue your journey in kissing down his body, stopping at the bottom of his spine. “Spread yourself for me, Jungkook.”

He does so without hesitation, his hands pressing on his round cheeks to obey you and give access to all parts of him. You give him a slow lick, feeling his hole clench under your tongue, and you chuckle. He is so responsive when he is kept on edge like this; it is so entertaining to watch his reactions. But you decide to not waste any more time, getting the gloves and the lube. You put the glove on and drizzle a generous amount of the gel on your fingers, warming it up before slowly circling his hole with one finger, seeing him clench again. You tease the ring of muscle, alternating between circling around it and pressing just the tip of your finger inside until you feel him almost go limp under your ministrations. You apply more pressure on that finger, slowly inching its way into his warmth and going out, until you have your palm flush against his skin. Your other hand caresses his thigh while you wait for him to get used to the intrusion, and you know exactly the moment when it starts to feel good because his hips start moving ever so slightly fucking into the bed. 

You allow him to keep the movements going, letting him enjoy this for now as you help by moving your finger in time with his thrusts, loosening him up and getting ready for the next finger to join. You hear his moan when the second digit joins and you apply more lube to help, going slowly so as not to hurt him, moving it in and out until there is no more resistance. You begin opening him up more, going slowly, dragging your fingers against his walls and pressing down ever so slightly until his hips stop abruptly.

“Stop, stop, stop, please.” He is out of breath and begging, but no sign of pain in his voice.

“What is it, baby?” You pause but don’t take your fingers out yet, but you notice that his hips are raised from the bed.

“I was close. Too close,” he says in between breaths, and you feel a sense of pride and love filling your chest.

“Good boy, Kook. You’re such a good boy for telling me to stop, I’m very proud of you.”

You see him blush at the compliment and hide his face in the pillow, but you keep caressing his thigh and complimenting him as you wait for the edge to go down. When he lowers his hips again, you know you can continue, but you decide to move on with your plans. You picked out a smaller prostate massager, small enough that two fingers are the preparation he needs for now. You pick up the toy, lubing it up before you take off the glove and discard it by the towel, inside out. 

“Are you ready?” 

“Yes, noona.”

You start to slowly press the toy inside him, seeing as his hole opens up to accept it. He clenches around the toy, a high-pitched moan leaving his mouth, and you can barely wait to hear the beautiful sounds that will come from him when you turn it on. When it is completely inside, you get him to turn around. His cock is flushed and leaking against his belly, and it looks as hard as it has ever been. 

“Hands above your head now. Color?”

“Green, noona,” he says as he intertwines his fingers and raises them up to press into the pillow he’s using. 

The spit on his cock from before when you used your mouth to edge him has already dried, so you get some of the lube to make your hands glide across his cock smoothly and you pick up the remote control with your other hand. You press the button to turn it on at the same time as your wet fist closes loosely around him, and his loud moan is like music to your ears. Maybe one day you can record something like that… It does not take long until his breath quickens and little whimpers start leaving his mouth, signaling he is getting close. You wait until you hear that hitch in his voice and stop all movement, turning off the massager as well.

“No, noona, no, please…” he cries out, a tear rolling down his cheek as his lips round in a pout. “Please, noona.” 

“You’re being such a good boy for me, Kook, hang in there just a little bit more.” You emphasize the little part.

“Ok, noona.” He whines, clearly not agreeing with the idea.

Your fingers encircle his erection again and he cries out immediately, the edge not completely faded, still too intense for him. Perfect. You stroke him a few times, very quickly turning on and off the vibrator before stopping again, and you repeat this a couple more times, keeping his edges closer and almost constant until the point in which your palm touching him is enough to get him there. You see another tear rolling down his cheek as he begs please again and again so beautifully, and you decide it is time for the next step. You press the button on the control, making him feel the vibrations inside him a little higher this time, and your wet fingers enclose his cock more tightly. You barely move your fist up and down before a loud moan graces your ears and you know you have him right there at the precipice. Your fist moves up and down another time and when you feel his cock twitching on your palm, you stop the vibrations and take your hand off him, seeing him raise his hips, whine so loudly a resounding and long no as streaks of cum start to paint his belly. He thrusts his hips in the air, his cock twitching against nothing as the last streaks of cum from his ruined orgasm land on his skin. Your eyes are glued to his face, watching for his reaction, and as soon as it happens, the tears that have been threatening to fall for a while do so, rolling down his cheeks as he cries out in frustration. 

You turn the vibrator on again, choosing a high and intense setting, and the cum on him helps the hand you close around his softening erection move even better now. He clenches the sheets on the side of his body and tries to move his hips away from your touch, but you don’t relent, stroking him quick and tight. He whimpers loudly at your touch, whining that it hurts, but you keep going, feeling him harden again under your continuous ministrations. You turn on the vibration, setting up a notch and he thrusts in your fist in and out, pausing when he lowers his hips, and you can tell he is divided between giving into the slight pain and getting away from it. You give him time to think as you don’t stop, your thumb circling his head at each upward stroke on his erection. 

“Come on, Kook. You’ve been such a good boy, you deserve a nice reward,” you say softly while you keep looking at him, watching for any sign of real discomfort. “Come for me again, baby.”

It is as if your words coax the orgasm out of him, his moan turning into a sob as he cums again and cries, letting all the tears out. This time you stroke him through it, making him feel everything, his entire body shaking with the intensity of the second orgasm. When you see him start to wind down from the orgasm, you stop the movements and turn off the massager, carefully taking it out of him. You take the towel to wipe the excess lube away and you leave it at the edge of the bed, the toy on top of it; you can wash it in a while - now you need to take care of Jungkook. You hug him against your chest as he sobs, and your fingers entangle in his hair while you keep repeating that he’s done so good for you and you’re so proud of him, that you love him, that he’s special to you, that he’s your good boy. For the first few minutes he just slumps against you, but as he starts to calm down, his arms hug you back tightly, pressing you into his body. 

“I’m here, Kook. I’m here. I love you, baby, so so much.” You kiss his forehead and his wet cheeks, and then you start wiping down some of his tears, now that they are stopping.

You blindly reach behind you on the side table to get a bottle of water, making him take small sips while propped up on an elbow. He’s slowly getting back to you, and there is no rush. He is your priority right now. He clears his throat and speaks so softly you can barely hear him at first.

“Thank you, noona.” 

“Of course, baby, anything for you. We can talk later, ok? Don’t rush. Want to eat some crackers?” you ask, but he shakes his head in negation.

He nods and smiles, an euphoric look on his face, now that his sobs have ebbed down enough, almost sleepy. “I love you too, Y/n.”

“Shower?” you ask, but he shakes his head no. “Nap first?” He nods in affirmation, and you smile. “Let’s nap then, we’ll change the sheets later.”

“What… what about you?”

“What about me, love?”

“You didn’t…”

“Tonight was about you, Jungkook.” You kiss him, then continue. “It was all about you, no need to worry about me, ok? Now close your eyes and nap, baby, and when we wake up in a short while we’ll get cleaned up better and have some dinner.”

You hug him tighter and fall asleep together in the comfort of each other’s arms.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

WandaNat x Reader : Angel

Summary: You are their guardian angel.

Warning: Language, Injuries

Word Count: 2,159

* * * * * *

Your foot taps nervously against the bottom of the stool, eyes fixed on the folder in front of you, that contains the briefing of your mission. Nerves trying to further expel themselves through the clinking of your nails against the glass mug of tea.

Your mission in Vienna.

The first mission you’ve had overseas.

Being the newest member of the Avengers meant countless months of training until the team deemed you fit to go on missions. And even then you had to continue to prove that you’re ready to go further than you had.

It also meant still learning your teammates. There’d already been very strong relationships set between the team when Nick Fury pulled you in, claiming all your abilities would benefit them.

Having been born with special abilities meant dealing with the hate that comes with being different. When people found out it was rarely a good reaction.

So even though you agreed to join the Avengers, you kept your special abilities to yourself and instead trained to perfect the normal ones you had. 

“Y/n?” 

Thoughts get interrupted by the familiarly sultry voice of your teammate and half of your assigned mission partners. 

Natasha gently sets her bag at the door and walks closer to you, choosing to lean on the kitchen counter beside you.

“I know this is your first, fairly major, mission. Which can be nerve wracking. But I promise, myself and Wanda have your back. And I also know you’re more than ready for this.” 

E/c eyes raise to green, searching for sincerity and finding it. 

You nod, the corner of your lips just barely tugging up. Then you stand, silent as always, to leave the kitchen. 

All the while Natasha watches you, hoping her words had the proper effect, but still glad she didn’t fumble over them or say the wrong thing. 

Since you’d joined her team the redhead was unsure of you, almost as unsure as you were of all of them. Over time though, she’d grown more interested than unsure. She wondered what kept you so quiet, what was holding you back from them, from her, and what it was that seemed to plague your mind at every moment of the day. 

Trying to become closer to you became the goal which meant tailoring her approach. Natasha couldn’t come to you as the Black Widow, she couldn’t intimidate or seduce you into opening up. You have a fragile soul and she knew that.

She couldn’t count the number of times she’d tried speaking to you and said the wrong thing or worded her thoughts the wrong way. But each time ended with you walking away and her, sometimes literally, smacking herself.  

With a huff, she picks up her bag, and starts toward the jet. It doesn’t take long to make sure everything is running properly so she waits inside for you and Wanda. 

The two of you appearing shortly after.

Natasha watches as her girlfriend speaks to you, your expression unwavering. It seems Wanda is walking on the same eggshells with you, pausing for long moments to think of what to say before speaking. 

It was no secret that Wanda is more in touch with her emotions and those of others out of the two, so it’s slightly odd to see the woman struggle with you as well. 

But just like Natasha, she tries. Because just like Natasha, she’s intrigued.

Wanda was taken with your beauty the second she saw you. Both internally and externally. Without invading your mental space, simply put she read your aura. But it was as if she could only read the surface of it. Like you were blocking her powers. Still what she found was beautiful.

That had drawn her to you even though you were keeping her at a distance. And so she did her best to make you feel comfortable and understood one the rare occasions you let her in. 

Now isn’t one of those times.

Wanda can tell that you’re anxious about your first international mission. She understands that, which is what she had been sharing with you when you got on the jet.

Two hours into the flight though, she’d stepped away, not wanting to crowd you. 

So as you laid down to calm yourself and rest, she moved to the co-pilots seat beside Natasha. 

Reaching over, Wanda grabs her girlfriend’s hand and laces their fingers together. 

A look is shared between the two, both worried about you but also confident in your ability to do complete this mission. 

There had long since been a discussion between the girlfriends about you. Revolving around their feelings for you.

They’d both admittedly felt guilty for developing feelings for someone outside of their relationship but Natasha had noticed the signs of Wanda’s crush and on the chance that she was right, she mentioned hers.

Being honest with each other lead to the idea of bringing you into their relationship, but that would all depend on you. Your feelings for them and your willingness to let them in.

But that was something to come later.

Now they focused on the mission at hand. 

The mission had begun exactly as planned. A simple data collection. 

Honestly you all should’ve seen the problem when the enemy base was empty, the data left unprotected. While your guards had been up for ambushes or unexpected threats.

Despite that, none of you had been prepared for a bomb. 

While leaving the base you’d caught the glare of a red light in the dark and the faint ticking and knew what it was. 

“There’s a bomb, we need to move now.” You rush, anxiety climbing as you all ran from the building. 

The three of you bad just barely stepped foot out the base when the bombs went off and despite your running you knew you weren’t clear of the blast. 

Your eyes frantically searched the field as the heat of the explosion got closer and there was no escaping it. So, in an attempt to protect the women, you laced your arms around them and pulled them to your body. 

In seconds their visions were obscured by beautiful white feathers. And while they had confusedly stared at their new unfamiliar surroundings, you gritted your teeth at the searing pain of the heat and shrapnel of the explosion. 

You held on though, unmoving until you no longer felt the suddenness of it.

“Y/n,” Wanda breathes, eyes following the shimmering white feathers to you, only to find your eyes drooping. 

They caught your now unconscious form. Your wings slacking away from their body as you were no longer awake to control them. 

Using their joint strength, they drug you to the jet.

Natasha moved almost in a panic, but kept her expression neutral, as she put in the coordinates of the mission assigned safe house. It would take hours to fly back to New York and that was time they weren’t sure they had. 

As they flew, Wanda took in your wings. The wings no one on the team knew about. 

Even though feathers were singed and there were bloody cuts, they still managed to leave her awestruck. 

“Did you know-” Wanda begins, looking up to Natasha who simply shook her head. 

When you landed at the safe house, they carried you inside and to the nearest bedroom. 

It’d taken a lot rushed research on their part to clean and patch up your wounds. They both knew how to tend to human skin but nothing about wings. But they managed, moving with care and gentleness as they removed the scattered pieces of shrapnel, tended to the burned feathers, and cleared away the blood. 

Seeing you hurt yet so beautiful stirred their emotions more than usual. Causing them both to act without thinking.

“Please be okay.” Wanda whispers, fingers smoothing over your silk like wings. Beside her Natasha repeating the same sentiment in her head as she leaned down and pressed a kissed to your forehead. 

Neither woman could leave you, resulting in Wanda falling asleep beside you, tucked under your wing, and Natasha occupying the chair in the corner of the room with her eyes trained on both of you. 

The woman was tired but more than that she was determined to make sure you were okay. Something she didn’t find out until hours later.

The signs of your consciousness came gradually but still alerted her, as the first one was the retracting of your wings.

Green eyes focused on the way the angelic appendages seemingly folded into your back and under your skin. It looked painful and the woman’s concern for you increased. 

She was so focused on you she didn’t notice Wanda wake up to see it as well, the second the warmth of your wings left her body.

Now both sets of green eyes were trained on you back. Mainly the very noticeable extra bones. They were raised a little higher than the normal back bones, both perpendicular to your spine. 

Still acting without much thought, Wanda reached out, her fingers ghosting over the smooth skin covering the bones. It felt as if there had been no wings there, as if the skin hadn’t just opened to let the large additions into your body. 

Neither woman noticed you wake up, not until a shiver wracked you at Wanda’s touch. 

Wanda jerked away, silently praying she hadn’t overstepped by touching you. 

“Could-”‘ your small voice reached their ears and Natasha moved to kneel beside the bed,“ can you get me a shirt?”

She nods, disappearing from your eyesight for seconds and returning with a top. 

After awkwardly pulling it on to make sure they didn’t see your naked front, you hesitantly moved to sit up against the headboard. 

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around your legs.

Natasha’s brow furrows at the way you seemingly tried to hide from them, curling in on yourself. 

The redhead sits in front of you on the bed, hand laying against the bed as if she really wanted to rest it on your leg.“ You have nothing to be sorry for Y/n.”

“Really. You didn’t scare us, we were worried, not scared.” 

It was your turn to frown. 

You hadn’t been blind to their attempts to get closer to you. You felt guilty about it though. You were hiding such an important part of yourself from them, a part you weren’t sure you’d ever share. 

Not that that mattered now. They’d seen the real you. 

Whatever opinions they’d formed on you are sure to change. You’d lose them.  Like everyone else.

Both women watched the emotions flashing through your eyes and across your face. The confusion, the guilt, the sadness, then settling on fear. 

What were you scared of? 

Ever the emotionally observant, Wanda guesses correctly on why you’re scared, and takes the proper approach at talking about it with you.

“Y/n, why hadn’t you said anything about your wings?” She asks.

Your gaze moves to her slowly and your breath catches. 

Where was the hatred? The disgust? The fear?

“I-” your words fall short, eyes searching hers deeply for the reaction you usually got. 

When her hand wraps around yours in comfort and encouragement to speak you’re even more perplexed. 

Had you truly misread them? Mistaken them for the people in your past?

“I was afraid you’d be scared of them.” You swallow.“ Or find them ugly. I know it’s not normal but I was born with them.” 

Natasha feels her heartbreak at the obvious pain you’d endured because of them in your past. It was written in your eyes. 

She scoots closer and takes your other hand.“ Your wings are beautiful Y/n. And anyone in your past who thought otherwise were ignorant. People fear what they don’t understand.” 

Your frown returns,“ why aren’t you?” You direct to them both. 

“Because as beautiful as your wings are, as much as we don’t know about them, we see beyond that.” Wanda answers. 

Natasha stands, gently nudging you to the center of the bed, then sitting so you’re between the two. 

“Trusting new people is hard when you’ve been hurt by people you thought you could in the past. But I promise you can trust us and we won’t let you down if and when you begin to.” She assures.

How could you not believe the soft and honest admission? Especially coming from two of the most powerful women you’ve ever met.

“I think I may be starting to.” 

Moving with caution, hoping you aren’t the one overstepping this time, you lean your head on Natasha’s shoulder, and squeeze the hand Wanda is holding.

Natasha and Wanda know it will take time for you to fully open up to them but they’re more than patient. And if a time ever comes when you reciprocate their romantic feelings, they’d gladly treat you like the angel you are.

* * * * * *

taglist: @trikruismybitch 

[rainydaydream-gal18]

Hunter x Reader: The Garden Where Love Grows

      The only sound that filled the room was the trickling of plant-sustaining fluid into soil.  You released a blissful sigh as you tipped the can back and observed the potted fern that was suspended from the ceiling along with a few others of its kind.  Your quarters were basically a garden for a variety of plants and flowers you’d gathered over the course of travelling with the Bad Batch.  When you joined the team, you’d told Tech of your gardening hobby, and he had assisted in developing technology to make plant growth in space less of a chore.  He also helped you build a few terrariums for any plants that needed particular environments to bloom.  It was something you both bonded over, and it brought you one step closer to being more comfortable with the team.  Some of the plants aided in healing battle wounds with the efficiency of bacta patches if the group ran out, so it wasn’t unusual for members of the team to approach you after a battle in need of patching up.  

   Caring for your plants was fun and at times therapeutic.  These days it felt like you were turning to your hobby a lot more than usual.  You loved the team, really.  It was just that at times being on a small ship for long periods of time could make things tense- especially with the leader you harbored secret feelings for.  Most of the time, you got along with Hunter.  Some days you wanted to wipe that handsome smirk right off his face.  It made your heart flutter even when he was doing it to annoy you.

   The latest incident involved you getting snarky with him about spilling caf grounds into the container where you kept your tea.  Even though he apologized, the corner of his lips twitched up as he tried to hide that smirk of his while his eyes glinted.  It was as if seeing you irked was amusing in some way.  You had simply shaken your head and walked out, shuffling all the way down the hall to your quarters to begin the process of your afternoon plant care routine early.  Still, you couldn’t forget the way his brow quirked or how his hair was messy from not getting around to taming it after waking up.  You couldn’t erase the sound of his voice as he apologized.  You knew it had been sincere, but poorly-timed amusement on his part had ruined it.  It also created more conflict in your feelings that you had been trying to push down.

   A rhythmic knock sounded on the door.  It was most likely Tech who wanted to do some scans on your latest addition to the indoor garden that was your quarters.  He enjoyed adding new information to his databases.  However, upon opening the door, you took in the sight of Hunter standing there and stepped outside to let the door slide shut behind you.

   “Look, __________,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “I didn’t mean to tick you off earlier.  I moved the caf grounds and machine away from your tea, so it won’t be an issue again.”

   The thoughtful gesture on top of your time in your quarters had softened your mood, and you nodded.  “Thanks.  I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it.  I guess I was irritated, and then when you smiled it felt like you found my frustration funny, which made me angrier.”

   “I know, I know,” he said with a sigh.  “And that one’s on me too.  It wasn’t funny that you were irritated.”

   “So, why did you laugh?” you asked.

   His eyes went to the floor, and you noticed the shift in his confidence as he brought them back up to meet yours.  “Because I sort of thought you were cute...”

   Your own heart rate picked up again at his words, and embarrassment crept its way into your expression at the realization he could probably hear it.  If Hunter did hear it, he had the decency to pay it no mind.

   “Well, thanks?”  You smiled and shook your head, this time in amusement.  You hadn’t expected the situation to be resolved, so you were unsure of what to do next.  An idea popped into your head.  You reached forward in a silent request for his hand, and he hesitated before obliging.  Your other hand pressed the button to open the door, and then you gave Hunter’s hand a gentle tug.  “Here, come in.”

   His eyes widened a little.  “You sure?”

   The reassuring smile on your face said it all.  He let you pull him into your quarters.  The door slid shut behind him, and you removed your hand from his bashfully as he took in his surroundings.  

   “Wow,” he breathed.  Hunter walked to the nearest hanging plant and gently touched a green tendril.  His gaze travelled around the room to the groups of plants and flowers that filled the space with vibrant color.  “You’ve never let me in here before.”

   “It’s my favorite place.  In some ways, it feels like it reflects who I am.  I guess it’s not easy for me to let people see that.”

   “Except Tech,” he muttered, and you thought you detected a trace of bitterness in his tone.  Jealous much?

   “Tech just helped me get things set up,” you told him with a smile.  “You’re...different.”

   His eyes softened when he caught your affectionate look before you disappeared behind a hanging plant.  “Well, I can see why it’s your favorite place.”

   “The plants make it nice, but they’re not entirely why it’s my favorite place.”  You peaked around to see his eyes had that glint in them again.

   “Really?  What else makes it your favorite place?”  He started for you, rounding another group of plants. 

   “The fact that it’s on board this ship,” you said.  “The fact that it’s where the Bad Batch is, and where you are.”

   “Hm, I see.”  He was right in front of you then.  “This might be my favorite place now too.”

   “Oh?” you breathed.

   “Yeah.  Since you love it so much.”

   You smiled, and he reached forward to touch your face.  The contact was unexpected but it felt so natural.  You wondered if he’d capture your lips in a kiss, but a knock on the door prevented you from finding out.

   “Tech,” he said, pulling away.

   You gave him a sheepish look.  “Sorry.”

   “That’s okay.”  He chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple before whispering, “It’s something to look forward to later.”

[pines-troz]

Those We Hold Dear - Animaniacs/Pinky and The Brain Oneshot

Summary: An introverted Brain finds himself feeling lost during the holiday party on the Warner Movie Lot. He manages to find some respite upon finding a pool table in the abandoned rec room. When Yakko unexpectedly invites himself in, the two engage in some casual conversation, then slowly open themselves up as they talk about their loved ones. 

This story includes mild doses of Brinky and Non-Binary Wakko with he/they pronouns. 

Word Count: 7,969

TW: Brief mentions of trauma, animal testing, and alcohol

Includes spoilers from the Animaniacs Reboot and references to the Pinky and The Brain spin-off cartoon. 

Special thanks to @themurphyzone for beta reading!

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714374

Beginning AN: This fic was written because there aren’t enough stories where Pinky and The Brain interact with the Warners, and I feel like there’s so much untapped potential in terms of interesting character dynamics and I wanted to explore that with this story. I hope you enjoy this self-indulgent and very heartwarming fanfic. 

As Christmas time drew near, The Warner Brothers movie lot was bustling with the spirit of the holiday season. Studios were dressed in Christmas decorations, and classic Christmas songs played over the speakers. And in the heart of the studio, the WB office was holding a special holiday party for the cast and crew of the Animaniacs reboot. Pinky and the Brain were among the invited guests, and the two mice strolled through the movie lot together as they made their way to the party. 

Brain shook his head, still in disbelief that he and Pinky worked as part-time actors, and even more so that they were asked to return for the Animaniacs reboot after the original show had been off the air for over twenty years. 

The small mouse remembered back in the early 1990s, when one of his initial plans for world domination involved him and Pinky breaking into the Warner Bros. studio to broadcast his homemade propaganda film. But while they infiltrated the studio, they were spotted by a small group of writers. When Brain explained in earnest that he and Pinky were ‘genetically altered lab mice trying to take over the world’, the writers were so amused and inspired that they brought the lab mice over to meet the studio executives and were hired right on the spot.

While having to act out failed plans to take over the world felt like a slap to the face at times, Brain quickly found the positive aspects of working on a popular television show. He and Pinky worked on set a few days a week (which saved them from having to undergo more painful experiments from the scientists at Acme Labs), they got along well with the other cast, crew, and various workers on the Warner movie lot. The mice also received truck loads of fan mail and fan art from viewers (and they put in the effort to express their gratitude by writing back to as many letters as they could), attended conventions even long after the show went off the air, and were invited to cast parties. 

As much as Brain enjoyed seeing Pinky having a ball at the cast parties, he himself admittedly detested large social gatherings. If world domination was at stake, then Brain would be more motivated to be sociable; rubbing elbows with politicians, manipulating powerful individuals to do his bidding, and being one step closer to planetary conquest. 

But Brain had no schemes up his sleeve. No ulterior motives, hidden agendas, or feasible plans for world conquest tonight. The mouse had put off all plans to take over the world off the table during the holiday season after having read Pinky’s unsent letter to Santa that fateful Christmas. From that moment on, Brain vowed to ignore his own lofty ambitions during the holidays and to put more focus on making Pinky happy.  

The mice made sure to dress appropriately for the holiday party. Brain donned a red sweater and dark green pants. Simple festive colors, but nothing overly garish. Pinky, however, went above and beyond in his party attire, as he wore a green dress with candy cane prints all over and sparkly red shoes. Once they walked past the office doors, they approached the elevator. Brain retrieved his limb-enhancing device and pressed the button, which opened up the doors, and the two mice entered the elevator. Brain used the device again to hit the button for floor nine, and the elevator moved upwards. 

“Oh this is going to be so much fun, Brain!” Pinky chirped, flapping his hands with excitement. 

“Well if you’re happy, then I’m happy.” Brain affirmed, keeping a calm and orderly demeanor. 

Once they reached the right floor, they exited the elevator and approached the large event space where the party was held. As they approached the doorway, they were immediately greeted by Yakko, who wore a red and white striped blazer in addition to his usual brown slacks. 

“Hey, Pinky and the Brain!” Yakko greeted as he waved at them. “How are the fan favorites doing?” 

“We’re doing well for ourselves, Yakko-” Brain’s response was interrupted when he felt a giant wet smooch on his left cheek. He looked over his left to see Pinky smiling at him. The smaller mouse looked at his roommate with a shocked and irritated expression. 

“Pinky!” Brain berated his companion, as his cheeks began to flare up. “I told you, no frivolous displays of affection outside of the lab!” 

“Poit! I’m sorry Brain, but, you were standing right under the mistletoe, and I just couldn’t help myself!” Pinky explained with a joyous giggle as Brain wiped off the saliva from the side of his face. The intelligent mouse looked up above only to find that dreaded yuletide plant taped to the doorframe. 

“Hey sibs! The power couple just arrived!” Yakko addressed his younger siblings. Brain fumed at the eldest Warner boy, who shrugged and flashed a playful smile back at the mouse. 

Dot arrived on cue, followed by Wakko, who greedily shoveled all the contents of the plate of appetizers (and the plate) into their mouth. The younger Warners dressed appropriately for the festive occasion. Wakko wearing an oversized blue sweater with a sequin snowman, and their iconic backwards red cap had elf ears taped to each side. In addition to her pink skirt, Dot wore a white sweater with a colorful Christmas tree and a reindeer antler headband. 

“Pinky!” Dot greeted happily, skipping merrily towards the taller mouse. “Oh you look so adorable!”  

Pinky jumped for joy as the Warner sister picked him up. “Oh, why thank you Dot. Zort! I actually had a little help from Brain. He used his knit-o-matic machine to put the dress together!” 

Dot turned her attention over to Brain, who was still standing beneath her. “Hello Brain! Don’t go thinking that I forgot about you.” She said, giving a couple pats to his large head. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Brain bantered, but lost his guard when the middle Warner sibling scooped him into their hands. 

“Oh what joy, Brain is here!” Wakko cheered, lifting Brain up in the air as he twirled around. “I was thinking about going around the movie lot and belching my favorite Christmas carols later tonight. Would you care to join me?” 

“A tempting offer, but I’m afraid I have to decline.” Brain gently rejected. 

“Okay, but the offer still stands if you change your mind!” Wakko insisted. 

“Very well. Now would you be so kind as to put me down? I’m going to head on over to the refreshments table.” The mouse said. 

“Say, I was going to grab some snacks too! And maybe we can eat over at the table together!” Wakko proclaimed, carrying the mouse as he made their way to the refreshments table. 

“Well, I would be delighted to keep you company.” Brain answered honestly. 

The mouse tried to keep his favoritism hidden, but of all the cast members he worked with, he enjoyed being with the Warners the most. While they may be a nuisance to the humans on the movie lot, they were quite friendly with most of the animal actors on the set. Brain was quite enamored with Yakko’s comedic banter, Wakko’s silliness, and Dot’s wit and charm, and while they playfully teased him on occasions, it was never out of any malice. But the one aspect he enjoyed the most was that they were never judgemental of him or Pinky. 

Brain picked up the smallest plate from the stack and started picking out one of each cheese, a deviled egg, the second-to-last pig in a blanket, two baby carrots, and a jumbo shrimp. Wakko swooped in from behind, taking the last the last pig in a blanket and gobbled it up. 

Brain looked over at the line of wine glasses and the various wine bottles behind them and figured that he could go for a nice glass of red wine. Despite his short stature, Brain found an easier way to access the alcohol as he spotted Ralph the security guard (who may or may not be off-duty), grabbing a handful of jumbo shrimp. 

“Pardon me, Ralph.” Brain addressed the dim-witted security guard. 

Ralph turned his head and looked around for a few moments before spotting Brain. “Duh, oh hi Blaine.”

“Actually, it’s Brain.” The small mouse corrected. “Could you do me a small favor and pour me a glass of the pinot noir.” 

The security guard looked over at the wine bottles, scratching his head in bewilderment.  

“It’s the reddish bottle with the picture of purple grapes on it” Brain curtly explained in layman’s terms

“Oh, uh right!” The imbecilic security guard affirmed. He grabbed the specific bottle and poured a little too much wine into the glass, filling it almost to the top. The mouse did not care that he had an excessive amount of wine. Lord knows that he needs enough alcohol in his system to get through this social gathering. 

“Thank you, my good man.” Brain said politely. 

“But wait a minute, how are you gonna drink from the glass?” The security guard asked. 

“Already accounted for.” Brain reached into his pocket and pulled out a green swirly straw custom made for himself. 

Wakko walked over to Brain, carrying two full trays of appetizers. The middle Warner sibling marveled at the swirly straw. “You have great tastes in straws.” He carefully picked up Brain and placed him on top of their red hat. Wakko managed to carry his own plates, Brain’s plate and the wine glass with relative ease as he waltzed over to the table. 

“Thank you, Wakko.” Brain said gratefully. 

“Your welcome! Oh, I was wondering if you wanted to hear about how I found myself in Paris?” The middle child asked. “I want to tell someone else besides my siblings about all the fun adventures I had.” 

“Yes, I would love to hear some amusing anecdotes from your vacation.” Brain replied. The intelligent mouse was well aware that Wakko can be very passionate and talkative when it came to their interests, so he decided to validate the middle child with attentive ears. 

Brain listened intently as Wakko continued to talk about their trip. The intelligent mouse felt relieved that he wasn’t the one who had to initiate the conversation. He could simply provide Wakko his undivided attention and listen to them reminisce over their trip to Paris. This was splendid!

“I visited the Eiffel Tower, The Louvre, and Notre Dame, but only from the outside.” Wakko said wistfully. 

“The fire of Notre Dame was awfully devastating.” Brain added. “Forgive me if this comes off as a boast, but when Pinky and I visited Paris years ago we were fortunate enough to go inside the cathedral and climb the tower.” 

“Really!” Wakko exclaimed, who was rather excited by Brain’s vacation story. “Oh, do you have any pictures?”

“Well of course! Just let me just find the vacation album on my phone.” Brain said, as he tried to retrieve his smartphone from his pocket. 

“Oh, I forgot to mention how wonderful the crepes were!” Wakko added. “I had strawberry crepes, banana and nutella crepes, some egg and cheese crepes,”

But Wakko’s infodumping came to a crashing halt when Yakko stormed over to the table. “Wakko, did you take the last pig in a blanket?” The Warner brother interrogated. 

The middle Warner sibling glanced guiltily towards Brain then back at their sibling. “Maybe?” The eldest Warner still held his suspicious glare at him, until Wakko finally gave in. “Yeah…” 

“I knew it!” Yakko declared as he proceeded to put his sibling in a headlock, dragging them away from the table and into the center of the room. Wakko broke free and a battle between the older Warner siblings broke out. 

“Oh, this oughta be rich!” Dot devilishly commented. She quickly grabbed her smartphone from her pocket and filmed the action. 

Pinky was thrilled by the sudden action and further enabled the sibling rivalry. “Go, go! Give ‘em the ol’ one-two!” The mouse laughed maniacally as he punched the air. “Narf!”

Brain ruefully shook his head at the sibling shenanigans that took place. The small mouse knew better than to get involved, lest he wanted to be squished like a pancake or smacked so hard that he would crash onto the drywall. He found himself all alone again. He finished up his plate of appetizers when he noticed the new CEO, Rita Nortia, taking her place on the other side of the table. 

The mouse suddenly felt compelled to speak with her. After all, she did play a significant part in hiring him and Pinky back for the reboot when they could have been cast off like the majority of his fellow cast members from the original show. 

“Alright Brain, this is going to be a long party and you have to at least try to be sociable.” He told himself. The mouse then took a considerably long sip of wine to work the courage to speak to his new boss. 

“Hello, Ms. Nortia.” Brain addressed, trying his best to sound friendly. 

The CEO looked over at the mouse with an indifferent expression. “Wait a minute, I know you, you’re one of the mice playing second fiddle to those pesky Warners….Bran, is it?”

“Actually, it’s The Brain,” The mouse corrected, but suddenly changed his tone as he did not want to come off as bossy in front of his boss. “but I’m perfectly content with being addressed as Brain, if that’s most convenient for you. A-and I wanted to thank you again for including Pinky and myself in the reboot.” 

“Sure, sure. You two were one of the more memorable parts of the original show.” Rita Norita replied, sounding rather unenthused. After a moment of awkward silence between the two, the CEO spoke up again. “Was there anything else you wanted to say?” 

Brain was sweating nervously, feeling like a total waste of space. He could tell that she was a busy woman who was more occupied with work-related interests. The mouse tried his hardest to come up with an interesting topic of discussion. The weather? No, too cliche. The hottest Netflix shows? No way. He couldn’t bring up the competition in front of his boss. Those ridiculous Tik Tok videos that Pinky wouldn’t stop blabbering about? If he didn’t understand the appeal of those, what were the chances that the CEO would. The only other thing he could possibly bring up was-

“So, how about those sports?” Brain asked with a nervous smile. 

Rita Norita stared blankly at the mouse. “What about them.” 

Brain was caught tongue-tied. He didn’t know enough about the current state of any American sports team, so he decided to take a leap of faith and try to discuss the one sport he loved. 

“Well, uh, would you be interested in hearing about the beauty and intricacies of rhythmic gymnastics?” Brain asked with a sheepish smile. 

As the CEO was about to give another dry response, she was interrupted when a group of sharply dressed business people walked over to her. 

“Ms. Norita, we have some very important business information to discuss with you.” One of them said. 

“Finally, a riveting topic of discussion.” She exulted, immediately getting up from her seat. She shot a quick glance at the mouse. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I have more pressing matters to tend to.” 

The CEO left the table with the other white-collar workers, leaving Brain to his own devices. The mouse propped his head up as he stared into his empty plate of appetizers, desperately trying to forget the mortifying conversation. If dying from embarrassment was possible, then Brain would already be in Heaven surrounded by an angelic choir of Pinkys. 

“Hey Brain!” 

Upon hearing the cockney accent he was so familiar with, he looked over his shoulder only to find Pinky taking off his dress and diving straight into the punch bowl. Through the clear glass, Pinky was happily swimming underneath the punch for a few moments. Once he broke through the surface, the tall mouse was giggling contentedly and he propped himself up on the side of the bowl to talk to his roommate. 

“Oh Brain, you should try this!” The buck-toothed mouse called out. “The water is so refreshing!” 

“No thank you, Pinky.” Brain replied, shielding his face from his roommate. He took another peek at the taller mouse. Pinky looked like a complete buffoon, but he looked like he was having the time of his life, swimming in the punch bowl without a care in the world. Brain, on the other hand, felt completely lost and isolated despite being surrounded by a sea of party-goers. 

Brain walked away, trying his best to participate in small talk. Things seemed to look up when the Mime arrived. 

“I suppose making small talk with someone who can’t talk back is better than not making small talk at all.” Brain pondered. 

“You there, Mime!” Brain approached the silent performer. The Mime looked back at Brain and smiled back, giving him a friendly wave. The mouse’s self-esteem was starting to rebound. 

“Say, do you want to hear a science joke?” Brain asked. The Mime gave an eager nod in response. 

“Okay, well here it goes: One tectonic plate was walking along, bumps into another tectonic plate and said ‘Oops, sorry, my fault!’” Brain began to laugh heartily at his own joke, closing his eyes as he chuckled. 

Once his laughter wore off, Brain looked over at the Mime simply shook his head while wearing a confused frown, shaking his head. The mouse assumed that the Mime did not get the joke. 

The Brain felt defeated and gave a beleaguered sigh. “Well, I apologize for wasting your time.” The small mouse placed his hands into his pockets and walked off. 

The intelligent mouse felt lost. With no plan for world domination to focus on, there was no important reason to mingle with the other guests. He decided to find the Warners and seek companionship from them. But he was disappointed when he witnessed the three keeping Ralph occupied in an intense game of ‘Monkey in the Middle’. The Warners wore mischievous smiles as they threw the security guard’s cap around much to the frustration of the bumbling officer. Brain could not bring himself to join in their merriment. Without his robotic man-suit, he could not possibly bring any meaningful contribution to the fun and would only stick out as a useless fifth wheel. 

And he did not have the courage to try to strike up a friendly conversation with the other party-goers. His brief talks with Rita Norita and The Mime were proof that even when he shared his interests and musings to them, they could never reciprocate because they’re not on the same intellectual wavelength as he was. 

No, he was only fooling himself. Perhaps the reason why felt high and dry was that he just could not relate to other people. 

Brain watched Pinky, now back in his Christmas-themed dress, entertaining a few guests with his spit bubbles. The small group laughed at his ridiculous display. The taller mouse was completely in his element, charming people with his ‘fun-fun silly-willy’ antics. That feeble-minded fool made it look so easy. 

“Perhaps Pinky is better off with other people.” 

Brain furiously shook his head at the awful thought. “No, no, no. You’re just exhausted from attempting to socialize, that’s all.” He told himself. “Yes. All I need is a break, a place where I could temporarily wind down and recharge my energy before returning to the festivities.” 

Brain walked down the hall in search for a place to ponder. 

As he wandered down the hallway, he discovered an empty recreation room complete with a billiards table, a dart board, a stack of used board games, and a leather sofa. The pool table was pristine, with the fifteen balls gathered in their triangular shape and the cue ball standing on the other side. Brain decided to take the opportunity to play a game of pool against himself. The mouse picked up an unsharpened pencil from the bureau, climbed up the leg of the pool table and made his way to the top. 

The mouse hopped off the wooden edge and onto the green walked baize, the tender felt brushing up against his feet with each step. Once he approached the cue ball, the mouse used the unsharpened end of the pencil and struck the white ball as hard as he could. He was not surprised that the cue ball lightly struck the top third of the fifteen balls ever so slightly.

“This is going to take a while…” Brain muttered to himself. “Fortunately, I don’t have anything better to do.” 

The mouse observed the playing field, and noticed a solid red ball lingering near a corner pocket. Charging his pencil against the cue ball much harder this time, he saw the white ball glide down the table, hitting the red ball right into the pocket. Now all he had to do was strike the other solid-color balls into the pockets. 

Fifteen minutes had passed since he started his solitary game of pool, and he only had three balls left. Wiping off the beads of sweat from his forehead, he looked over at the clock that was perched above the sofa. The mouse doubted that the other party-goers would be aware of his absence. Maybe Pinky would be too busy mingling with the other guests to even realize that he was gone. 

“Some party, huh?” 

Brain was startled at the sudden inquiry, his ears perking upwards. He turned around only to find Yakko Warner leaning against the doorway.

“Yakko….” The mouse grumbled. He feared that the boy would continue teasing him by bringing up the incident under the mistletoe. “Shouldn’t you be off terrorizing a certain psychiatrist?”

“Oh, you mean Dr. Scratchinsniff? He won’t be dropping by until around seven.” The eldest Warner sibling explained as he waltzed into the room. “So what are you doing here all by your lonesome?”

“As a reserved and introverted soul, social gatherings aren’t my cup of tea.” Brain confessed. “If world domination was on the line, then I would be more involved. But being forced to make idle prattle with co-workers in a secluded space can be quite tiresome.” 

“I gotcha.” Yakko nodded, seeming to understand Brain’s plight. 

“And how did someone as sociable as yourself wander astray from the festivities?” Brain inquired. 

“I had to use the john.” Yakko answered frankly, pointing his thumb towards the door. “I was going to return to the party, but I heard the sound of a pool game going on and just had to investigate.” 

“Excellent detective work, Hercule Yakko.” Brain remarked, to which Yakko chuckled in response. 

“Say, can I join in?” The eldest Warner asked as he walked over to the racks. “It’s been a while since I played pool and you look like you could use a little company.” 

“The more the merrier.” Brain dryly responded as he struck the cue ball with his pencil. 

Yakko found a suitable cue stick and walked over beside Brain. He observed the pool table, noting the striped balls outnumbered the solid balls. 

“So I’ll be aiming for the striped ones then?” Yakko asked. 

“Correct.” Brain responded defeatedly. While he wished to finish up his solo game, he didn’t have it in him to tell the eldest Warner to leave. 

Yakko carefully aimed his cue rack at the cue ball and fired away. He managed to hit two striped balls straight into the pocket. He then made another successful shot and hit two more striped balls into the opposite pocket. Feeling confident and theatrical, Yakko turned around and managed to hit another striped ball into a pocket without looking. He looked over at the playing field and back at The Brain. “Well, you got trouble my friend.” He quipped. 

Brain looked up at Yakko for a moment before looking back at the pool with a grimace. After a moment of awkward silence, the eldest Warner spoke up again “Get it? Because we’re playing pool and I was referring to-”

“Yes, yes, I’ve seen The Music Man before Yakko, there’s no need to explain the joke.” Brain interrupted. 

“So was the joke not funny?” Yakko asked with a twinge of worry. 

“The joke was perfectly fine.” Brain assured upon noticing the boy’s sudden anxiousness. “I’m simply frustrated with my current state in the game and fear that the outcome won’t be in my favor.” 

“Oh, is it because you’re a mouse? I can try to make some accommodations so that we’re playing on even grounds.” Yakko kindly suggested. 

“No, no. The last thing I want is to be patronized and pitied.” Brain snapped, sounding more harsh than he intended. 

Yakko backed off upon seeing the mouse’s frustration.“Okay, whatever floats your boat.” He replied defensively. 

Brain’s face softened a bit, feeling guilty that he was a bit too hard on the boy. “If it’s any consolation, I have problems with my joke deliveries as well.” Brain lamented. “I tried telling The Mime a science joke earlier, but it fell flat.” 

“Which one?” Yakko queried out of curiosity. 

Brain fought his insecurities and mustered up the courage to tell the joke again. “One tectonic plate was walking around, he bumps into another tectonic plate and said-”

“‘Oops, I’m sorry, my fault’!” Yakko enthusiastically joined in as the punchline was delivered. The boy clapped his hands and started chuckling. “Ah, natural disaster humor.” 

Brain softly smiled. Yakko missed this time around and Brain hopped back on the table, figuring out the best course of action to keep up with Yakko’s pool playing. After a couple minutes of playing in companionable silence, the intelligent mouse decided to throw an ice-breaker question to liven the mood. 

“So Yakko, how have you and your siblings been doing lately?” The Brain asked in earnest. 

“We’ve been doing swell!” Yakko answered in a chipper tone. “I mean, sure, we had our fair of challenges adapting to the current trends after being frozen in suspended animation for twenty-two years, but what can ya do?”

Brain looked a little concerned at the boy. The last time he and Pinky saw the Warners was in 1998, when they attended a cast party after filming of Wakko’s Wish had wrapped. During those years, Brain was consumed with his contributions to the age of the internet while Pinky attended his therapy sessions. All that time spent focusing on his world domination scheme and he forgot about his fellow cast members and all the good times they shared together. When Brain and Pinky received the fateful phone call from Warner Brothers that they and the Warners would be the only returning cast members for the Animaniacs reboot, he was worried that they would be mad at him for not keeping in touch. But when they arrived on set, the Warners were simply happy to see them again. But the Brain lost his train of thought when he heard Yakko speak up again. 

“Not to mention the staggering amount of pop culture we’ve missed out on.” Yakko added. “Hey, did you know that there were two movie adaptations of How The Grinch Stole Christmas within the span of two decades?”

“Oh I’m well aware of that. Pinky actually dragged me to see both movies in the theaters.” Brain recalled. “And as you would expect, the feeble-minded fool thought they were cinematic masterpieces.” 

“Outside of trying to stay relevant, we’ve been doing some fun sibling projects on the side, like this sculpture of Giuseppe Acrimboldo made entirely out of fruit!” Yakko happily reminisced.

“You mean, the famous sixteenth century Italian mannerist portrait artist Giuseppe Acrimboldo?” Brain inquired enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, I managed to get a picture before that awful bun infestation got to him.” Yakko grabbed his phone and showed a picture of their sculpture. 

“That’s quite impressive.” Brain marveled. While the mouse was not present during the awful bun infestation, he had heard stories of the incident from his co-workers. He could only imagine Pinky having a field day with the mass quantities of bunnies.

“I even had a whole song written about him too!” Yakko added. 

“Well, I’m always eager to hear another one of your classic educational ditties, Yakko.” Brain encouraged. “I’m all ears.” 

“I would if I could, but I forgot the majority of the lyrics.” Yakko forlornly replied. He picked up his cue rack and strategically planned his next move. 

“Oh..” Bran uttered. The mouse tried to find another topic to bring up, but couldn’t help but think about the Warner siblings being locked away from the world for the second time. The mouse tried to bring up the topic as delicately as he could. 

“Forgive me for prying, but can I ask you a question concerning your 22 year absence.” Brain carefully inquired. 

“Sure!” Yakko acknowledged as he struck the cue ball, hitting the eight ball into the pocket and winning the game.

“Do you recall anything during your hibernation?” The mouse questioned. 

“No, not really. The only thing I could remember was what happened before. After Wakko’s Wish wrapped, some studio bigwigs came up to me and my sibs. We were given the choice to either be cryogenically frozen or to be locked in the tower again. After thinking it over, I decided that being frozen in suspended animation was the better option. And the process wasn’t all that bad. It was like taking a really long nap.” Yakko answered truthfully. “And let me tell you, being frozen was a walk in the park compared to being trapped in the water tower for over sixty years.” 

Brain’s ears drooped when he heard the sadness laced in Yakko’s voice. 

“I love my sibs and would risk my life for them, but it was really hard having to watch over them without any assistance from the adults for decades.” The boy confessed. “I mean, I managed to get by just fine, but it was neither a bed or roses nor a pleasure cruise. During those years I had to come up with different ways to entertain my sibs and keep them occupied. I didn’t want them to start thinking about whether or not people missed them or were even aware that they’ve been cooped up for so long. One could say being trapped in that tower felt like-”

“Being an animal in a cage.” Brain quietly finished, feeling a deep sense of empathy for the boy. 

Yakko stared at the mouse, amazed by how understanding he was of his past trauma. “Well, yeah…” 

The Brain drew in a long breath and exhaled. “Believe it or not, I understand where you’re coming from.” He confessed, sitting on the edge of the pool table and holding the pencil in his arms.

The mouse could not believe what he was doing. In any other circumstance, Brain would never open up to his co-workers about his feelings or the past traumas he endured. Opening up meant being vulnerable. Being vulnerable meant feeling helpless and without control. He gripped the pencil tightly at the thought of not being completely in charge of himself. But Brain fought against his need to put up defensive barriers and decided to reveal his miserable and pitiful past if it meant providing the boy with some sense of solidarity. 

“I was once a young field mouse who lived a carefree and happy existence with my parents out in the wild.” Brain reminisced. “But I was separated from my family at a tender age when a group of Acme Lab scientists abducted me from my tin-can home. From that day forward, I was imprisoned in the laboratory where I was subjected to cruel, emotionally-scarring experiments and used as fodder in the name of science and human curiosity.” His voice trembled as he exposed his past to the eldest Warner, but he soldiered on. 

“The first friend I ever made was a hamster named Snowball, but when we went through the gene splicer, it had different effects on us. I gained advanced intelligence, while Snowball went mad with power, and we had a terrible falling out. But when it seemed that I was doomed to live the rest of my days isolated in the lab…” Brain paused for a moment and then continued. “But one day, a new lab mouse brought over to live with me in my cage. It was at that moment that Pinky entered into my life and...well, the rest is history.” He explained with a sad smile. 

Yakko listened in with sympathetic ears. He never thought that anyone could relate to the pain of having his freedom stripped away and being locked against his will. But he also admired the mouse’s courage to tell his story anyways. 

“Pinky really was my saving grace.” Brain admitted, aware of the affection in his tone. “His presence made being stuck in the lab more bearable. Sure, he may be imbecilic and dim-witted, but he’s also loyal, compassionate, and the best friend I could ever ask for.” After praising Pinky’s positive aspects, Brain’s smile slowly faded. “But sometimes I wonder why Pinky would want to be my friend, and other times where I feel like I don’t deserve to be his friend.” 

“Well, how come?” Yakko cautiously inquired. 

“Years ago, I promised Pinky that if I ruled the world, I would make it into a better place. A kinder place for social outcasts and marginalized individuals like him. But after so many years of trying and putting in the work, my destiny is still far from reach. And yet, he’s still standing by my side. It’s just...I don’t know what Pinky sees in me.” Brain sadly explained as he cradled the pencil in his arms. “Perhaps he’s much better off without me…” He sighed, letting the awful confession escape his lips. 

Yakko sadly frowned at the downtrodden mouse, but he quickly knew how to cheer him up. “Oh I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” 

“Well why not?” The mouse somberly asked. 

“Maybe the reason why Pinky is attached to the hip is because he loves you.” Yakko suggested. 

“Perhaps he does. His unquestioning loyalty to me is proof of that.” Brain pondered aloud. 

“...and that you love him back.” Yakko added with a sly smile. 

“What?” Brain cried out, sharply turning his head to face Yakko. “That’s preposterous! I don’t love Pinky, I merely….tolerate him.”

“Uh huh,” Yakko nodded, not buying his co-worker’s fib. “I guess your toleration must be pretty strong then.” 

Yakko placed the cue stick on the side of the pool and walked over towards the mouse.“I mean, who else would sacrifice their chance at world domination on Christmas, go to the depths of h-e-double hockey sticks to save the guy after he sold his soul so you could rule the world, reunite him with his entire family after years of separation, save him from quicksand by embracing your wild side, teach him about the Constitution and upholding the values that make up our country’s democracy, and tend to his aid after the poor guy got pulverized by some crummy humans.” The eldest Warner detailed as he counted all of Brain’s deeds on each finger. Brain’s ears drooped as he heard him recall all of his past heroics when it came to helping the friend he loved so dearly. 

“That’s going above and beyond for someone you merely tolerate, don’t you think?” Yakko concluded. 

“W-who told you all that?” Brain blurted in disbelief. 

“Pinky did.” Yakko answered honestly. “Why, just a few minutes after you left, Pinky started talking about all the great and amazing things you did for him. If you don’t believe me, the proof is in the pudding.” He fished out his phone from his pocket and showed Brain a video, with Pinky’s gleaming smile on the thumbnail. Yakko pressed play. 

Pinky was gathered around a few of the party guests on the couch. Wakko and Dot sat closely by his left, and Jay Pac Le East Tha Rapper by his right. 

“Poit! And when it came down to choosing the world or me, Brain chose me and decided to compete in rhythmic gymnastics to save my soul!” Pinky explained enthusiastically to his enchanted audience. “Oh you should have seen Brain! He looked so stunning in his marvelous blue spandex, prancing about oh so gracefully with his string-on-a-stick, and he scored a perfect ten! But that awful, no-good Mr. Itch cheated by rigging the competition in his favor and it seemed like Brain and I were doomed to be separated forever!”

Wakko and Dot gasped in shock and instinctively grabbed onto each other for comfort. Even Jay Pac was deeply invested in the story. 

“But it turned out that he didn’t deliver on his original promise to give me my radish rose whatchamawhozit, so I was able to be with Brain again!” Pinky happily concluded. 

Wakko stood up and applauded. “Oh how I love a happy ending!” 

“Wow, my respect for Brain just went through the roof.” Jay Pac commented. 

“You know, I never realized how cool Brain was until just now.” Dot admitted. 

“He sure is!” Pinky gushed. “Brain is smart, he never gives up on his dreams, he wants what’s best for the world, and he’s the best friend I could ever ask for. Zort! I love him so much, and I know that he loves me too!” 

“Pinky, can you tell us another story about The Brain?” Wakko asked enthusiastically, like a child wanting to hear another bedtime story. 

“Pretty please, Pinky!!” Dot begged, giving her cutest pout and fluttering her puppy-dog eyes. 

“Of course!” Pinky answered gleefully as he leapt up in the air and landed back on the couch. “Oh! I should tell you all about the time he helped me reunite with my mum, my dad, and my sis!”

As the video ended, tears started to pool in Brain’s eyes. He roughly scrubbed them away before they could fall, not allowing himself to become more vulnerable than he already felt. “Perhaps I don’t just tolerate him. Dare I say, I even like Pinky.” Brain half-confessed. He knew that he loved Pinky dearly, but he would never bring himself to verbalize his feelings. 

“Actions speak louder than words, buddy.” Yakko retorted. “But I totally get where you’re comin’ from, though. Wakko and Dot mean the world to me.” 

“Even though you wrestled your own sibling over something as petty as taking the last of your favorite appetizer?” Brain mentioned sardonically. 

“Alright, so I have a problem managing my Cain instinct, guilty as charged.” Yakko answered. 

“Sure, we drive each other bonkers sometimes, but at the end of the day, they’re still my sibs and I love them more than they could even know.” The boy smiled as he talked about his dearest siblings. 

“But I still can’t help but wonder, what might happen in the future, after the reboot.” Yakko pondered with concern. “What if Wakko and Dot decide to go out in the world and do their own thing? Would they still need me? Would they want me around? And I don’t know how I’d do without ‘em because they’re the only family I’ve got.” 

Brain felt his heart go out to Yakko. While the boy can be a nuisance and a smart alec, there was a lot of good in him. But he could also understand the boy’s fears. Yakko was as strongly attached to his siblings and his whole life revolved maintaining that relationship. The mouse pondered to himself until he found the best way to alleviate the boy’s worries. 

The small mouse walked over to the eldest Warner brother and gently placed his hand on top of his. “Well, there may come a time when the three of you will go your separate ways and lead  independent lives, but no matter how far apart you are, you’ll always maintain that strong familial bond.” 

Yakko gave Brain an intrigued look. “What makes you so sure?” 

“Pinky and I raised a son together.” Brain answered with a small smile. 

“Since when?” Yakko asked with a baffled look on his face. 

“It happened back in the late 90s. Roman Numeral One, or Romy for short. I initially planned to make a clone of myself and use him for global conquest, but one of Pinky’s errant toenails was muddled in with my DNA sample, thus creating a clone that modeled after the two of us.” Brain explained, still smiling as he reminisced. “Once Romy reached the age of reason, he departed from the lab and moved on to make a life for himself. Fortunately, Pinky and I are still on good terms with our son, and we would call him every now and again, just to see how he’s doing. And even though our boy is out in the world pursuing his own dreams, we still love him dearly and learned to maintain our familial bond despite the long distance between us.”

“So whatever happens in the future, I’m certain that you and your siblings will still be as thick as thieves.” Brain assured, giving the eldest Warner sibling reassuring pats on his hand. Yakko smiled back at the mouse’s kind gesture.

“But if you’re still uncertain about the future, I’ll guarantee this to you,” Brain added. “If I become the ruler of- no, no. When I become the ruler of the world, my palace doors will always be open for you and your siblings. And if any of you ever feel lost or lonely, Pinky and I will be more than willing to grant you companionship.” Brain offered his small hand out to the boy. 

Yakko was eager with the proposition. “Well Brain, I was already rooting for you to take over the world, but now I’m twice as invested! You got yourself a deal!” The eldest Warner enthusiastically shook the mouse’s hand. The Brain gave a hearty chuckle, amazed at the boy’s excitement and encouragement. 

“And Brain,” Yakko looked at the small mouse. “I’m really glad we had this talk...and thanks for everything.” 

Brain could tell that Yakko rarely opened up about his personal issues and musings to others, so not to trouble them or cause concern. But he could tell just how grateful the boy was for understanding and providing him with the comfort he needed. 

“You’re welcome, Yakko.” Brain quietly replied. 

“Well, I think that’s enough emotionally heavy conversations for one night.” Yakko commented, trying to sound as laid-back as possible. 

“Agreed. You know, I think I’m ready to return to the party and make a more admirable attempt at socializing.” Brain said with confidence. 

“That’s the spirit!” Yakko praised, giving him a thumbs up. 

As Brain and Yakko were putting away the billiards equipment, they heard three sets of footsteps approaching the rec room. Sure enough, it was Pinky, followed by Wakko and Dot. 

“Oh, there you two are! Narf!” Pinky exclaimed. 

“So this is where you two have been.” Dot addressed her brother and the mouse. 

“Yep, just us guys playing some pool.” Yakko answered half-honestly as he gestured towards his smaller companion. “You could say that we were getting along swimmingly.” 

Upon hearing the dad joke, Wakko and Dot retrieved their pun guns and shot their older brother on sight. Brain saw the yellow lasers fly through the room and hit Yakko, causing him to fall over on impact. The mouse looked on with concern. 

“I’m fine.” Yakko assured The Brain despite the obvious pain he was in. 

Brain returned his attention to his roommate and the other Warner siblings. “So what shenanigans have you three rascals been up to during our absence?” He inquired. 

“We gained access to the CEO’s movie screening room!” Dot answered. 

“There’s a big screen tv, a comfy leather couch, a snack bar, and everything!” Wakko added enthusiastically.

“Good work sibs!” Yakko complimented as he got back up on his feet. 

“Troz! And now that we found you two, we can all go there and watch The Grinch together!” Pinky joyfully declared. 

“Which one?” Yakko and The Brain asked in unison, knowing that there were multiple adaptations of the classic story and both secretly hoping that it was the 1966 animated special.

“The animated one, of course!” Pinky cheerfully replied.

“You need to be more specific, Pinky.” Brain added, praying that his friend was referring to the classic television special as opposed to the bland Illumination movie. 

“Oh, it’s the one with the Boris Karloff narration and the lovely songs!” Pinky gushed as he hugged himself. 

“Thank Heavens.” Brain replied, relieved that his roommate was referring to the former. “We would be delighted to accompany you three, right Yakko?”

“Oh absolutely!” Yakko replied. He carefully picked up Brain and placed him in the palm of his left hand before walking over to the others. He then knelt down and offered Pinky a ride on his right hand, to which he happily accepted. 

As Yakko followed his younger siblings to the private theater, he joined his hands together, bridging the divide between the two laboratory mice. Pinky immediately leapt over to Brain, enveloping him in a warm and welcoming hug. Brain decided not to recoil from Pinky’s affection and accepted the embrace. 

“Oh it’s good to see you again Brain!” Pinky exclaimed. “I missed you so much since you left, and I was getting worried that I was never going to see you again.” 

“It’s good to see you too, Pinky.” Brain kindly remarked. “I just needed to recharge after socializing. You know that I would never abandon my best friend in the whole world, right?”

“Your best friend? Where?” Pinky shouted worriedly as he looked over each shoulder.

Brain rolled his eyes at his friend’s stupidity. “It’s you, Pinky. In addition to being my roommate and my assistant, you’re my best friend in the whole world.”

“Naarf.” Pinky awed, his eyes glistening with wonder. Overwhelmed with joy, the taller mouse decided to give his intelligent roommate an extra squeeze. “Well what a coincidence! It just so happens that you’re my best friend in the whole world, Brain!” 

“I know, Pinky.” Brain muttered as he patted the taller mouse’s back. “I know.” 

Unbeknownst to both mice, the Warners smiled warmly as they witnessed the sweet exchange. 

The Warners and the lab mice entered the private theater. Dot retrieved Pinky and the two went over to the couch, where she placed a pillow over her lap, giving Pinky a place to sit. Brain managed to get the Blu-Ray player running as Wakko grabbed a stockpile of snacks. Yakko turned off the lights to provide a more theatrical experience. Yakko carefully held Brain as he plopped down on the couch, sitting between his younger siblings. Yakko moved his hand over to Dot, who gently held Brain before placing him on the pillow alongside Pinky.

As the Christmas special started, Pinky scooted over to Brain to sit closer to him. Feeling Pinky’s presence and taking into account that they were nearly enveloped in darkness, Brain lifted himself and placed a gentle kiss on Pinky’s cheek. After settling himself back down, he carefully wrapped his arm around his roommate’s waist and pulled him closer. The taller mouse was taken aback by his roommate’s actions. Pinky stared at his best friend, who lovingly gazed at him with a soft smile. Brain couldn’t verbalize the love he held for Pinky, but he hoped his kind physical gestures spoke a thousand words. Pinky beamed at Brain in response and wrapped his arm around him. The two mice continued to gaze into each other’s eyes for a few moments longer before returning their attention to the television. 

Additional AN: Looking back on Animaniacs and the Pinky and the Brain spin-off as a person in her late-twenties, I’ve become fully aware of how both The Brain and Yakko deeply care about their loved ones to the point where they’re scared of the thought of being separated from them or seeing them hurt in any way. 

Yakko is so attached to Wakko and Dot, pretty much raised them at the tender age of 14, so I feel like he would have this lingering fear of being alone. Whether he’s separated from them or has the idea that they wouldn’t need him anymore. The reboot establishes Yakko’s insecurities of caring about what other people think and that he may not be as funny as he presents himself to be. I found this to be a fascinating aspect of his character, and I wanted to play around with that in the fic. 

The Brain, on the other hand, loves Pinky. Even if he can’t bring himself to admit it due to how emotionally constipated he is, his actions speak for him. Brain reading Pinky’s letter to Santa and being so moved that Pinky thinks so highly of him and is so supportive of him that he backs out of taking over the world even though he had the whole world under his command, The Brain literally going to hades to bring Pinky back because being the ruler of the world isn’t the same without him, Brain going out of his way to reunite Pinky with his family (even if it was for a scheme) and even using the gene splicer on them so they could understand each other, and Brain tending to Pinky’s aid when he’s beaten up by humans for being a mouse and changing his motives of world conquest to make the world and better and kinder place for Pinky and others who feel small. The reboot also has more moments where Brain chooses Pinky over a future version of himself, rescuing Pinky from being enslaved by a power-hungry toddler, and even trying to comfort him the best he could after his monster wife ran off with the other monster and the two of them perished upon falling down. There are also a lot of great hints of a slow-burn romance between the two, but I’m getting ahead of myself there. 

The biggest challenge I had writing this story that followed the lore of the characters. One headcanon I played around with is that Pinky and the Brain work as part-time actors and that the majority of the skits (especially the history-based ones) were made for the show, while the events that took place in Pinky and the Brain spin-off and certain episodes from the reboot (Of Mice and Memes,Future Brain, and Roadent Trip) actually occurred in the show’s universe. 

Also there are aspects of the reboot that I purposefully left out, such as Brain being super evil and Pinky being a passive enabler(*cough cough* episodes 3 and 8 *cough cough*) and Pinky having daddy issues since they conflict with their established characterizations from the PATB spin-off. 

I also wanted to provide some sort of explanation as to what the Warners were up to during the past 22 years. So I figured that having them frozen in suspended animation was the more logical choice. I also came up with the idea that they had to choose between staying frozen or being locked in the water tower again for added drama. 

Overall, I had a lot of fun writing this story. It’s been a long time since I last publicly published fanfiction since there was a lot going on in my personal life and I was too busy and I didn’t feel entirely motivated to write. But upon rewatching old episodes of Pinky and the Brain, Animaniacs, and watching season one of the Animaniacs reboot has reawakened my creative muse and motivated me to write, and I do plan on writing more stories centered around these characters. 

Please leave a review if you can! Thanks for reading!

[adelaidedrubman]

wip day!!

tagged by my beloved @scungilliwoman to share a wip! thank you angel

slowly trying to get back into the groove of writing with wildfire chapter 10. so have a very rough excerpt, including a snippet of my greatest fear ive been putting off: writing joseph.

sending tags out to @shallow-gravy @honeysides @lilwritingraven @faithchel @vasiktomis @chyrstis @chazz-anova @strafethesesinners (no pressure i know a lot of y’all have posted recently!!)

His thoughts were interrupted with the sudden trickling flow of bliss pouring into the river at his side. 

“I’m sorry,” he turned to the man tipping the barrel to empty into the stream, addressing him with an authoritative hiss. “I don’t recall instructing you to do that,” he said with an angry nod down towards the liquid now seeping to dye the formerly clear water a green sea glass. 

The last fucking thing she needed was more bliss. The entire point of using it in the first place was to enhance the convert’s senses, lowering their resistance to help them feel closer to the Father, not make them too brain dead to understand what was happening. And Rook definitely appeared to be teetering on the edge of the latter. 

The man lifted the empty barrel with a shrug, not matching the gravity of John’s tone or the situation at all, treating the entire thing like another day of busy grunt work instead of one of the most spiritually and historically significant baptisms of all time. “We always purify the water with the bliss before we start the cleansing.”

“Well I didn’t say we were starting yet, did I?!” he barked back with gritted teeth, the rigid tension in his jaw growing ever tighter. Nobody seemed to be getting the importance of this, nobody but him. 

“The sinners have arrived. Everyone’s here,” he answered with another shrug. “Everything’s in place. Isn’t this when we always start?” he offered nonchalantly before walking off to join his ranks of fellow baptists, ready to proceed across the river. 

John tightened his grip on his book, the creased skin of his knuckles growing white to match the bleached leather binding he clutched. He supposed there was no rescheduling. Everyone was here. Everything was in motion. 

And God, look what happened last time he gave her a night to rest. 

He took a deep inhale, finding the air thick and unnaturally sweet, his mouth growing cottony and head lighter as he held the breath. She said she hated the smell, didn’t she? Not that it particularly mattered. The point was, it was still heady. 

He trailed eyes along the misting surface of the river, looking across to peer through the growing saccharine fog at the woman standing on the opposite bank, held gently at the elbows by two Chosen, her eyes still a lifeless void. 

He did need to go forward tonight, but what was the harm in waiting another hour to let the tranquilizers wear off a bit better, and the bliss in the river dilute, and hopefully lull her into a sweet spot where she could actually appreciate her transformation. It was a nighttime ceremony anyways, what were a few more hours of darkness? 

Yes, he decided, that made sense. He’d just have to change up the ceremony a bit, which was completely warranted under the circumstances. Sit the sinners down for a moment to rest, read some additional scripture about the importance of the cleansing, give a small speech about the journey they were beginning, and once the focus had returned to her eyes, he’d proceed with leading them into the waters. 

He began to take a step closer to the river’s edge to cross it and execute his plan, but was stopped in his tracks just as he’d given the slightest movement. 

“Is there a reason to waver, John?” Joseph’s soothing voice and the comforting warmth of his hand on John’s shoulder made the flurrying clouds of anxiety and doubt break and clear just as quickly as they had built. “Are you not prepared to open our family to the newest members of our flock?”

“I am,” he answered, gentle but clear, letting the affirmation ground him into certainty. Everything was in place. He’d prepared everything. He’d called Joseph here. It was time to move forward. His doubts were foolish, nothing could truly go wrong. Not with Joseph here. 

“Brothers and Sisters, let’s begin the cleansing!” he announced, now to the entire congregation, waving for his faithful to bring the converts forward into the river.

He made a point of not again allowing his eyes to linger on any sinner in particular as he stepped forward to meet them in the waters. It wasn’t really his concern exactly how her personal experience of the cleansing went, he couldn’t care less how pleasant or profound it was for her. Not so long as Joseph continued to look on proudly as he performed his duties as the Baptist. That was what really mattered. 

[themurphyzone]

Nova Ch 11

AN: This is gonna be the last of the set-up chapters. The story will start snowballing (see what I did there? Heehee) from the next chapter on.

This chapter includes an art piece I requested from the talented @plutonis​, and I’m so glad I can finally show this off because it contains some very gorgeous colors.

AO3 Link

Ch 11: Spectrum 

Terran Date 2015.4.28

Yesterday, Pinky showed me one of his favorite pieces of media to thank me for the story of Heikro var Silda, even though he cried for fifteen minutes because of the tragic ending. While indeed sad, I’m proud to say I remained steadfast and controlled my emotions upon revisiting the story. And while I told him it wasn’t necessary, he insisted and I acquiesced to his demands.

That’s how Pinky introduced me to The Lion King. Once again, I remained strong even when the emotional distress threatened to override my logical mind. It was...rather difficult, I’ll admit. We watched the sequel afterward, and though I’ve created five different charts that list the plot points in order, I cannot come up with a satisfactory sequence of events that connects both movies into a cohesive narrative.

Moving onto real life matters...Pinky seems to be under the impression that I will be a permanent resident of the lab.

Celestial bodies above, what use is my intelligence if I’m trapped among heathen, dimwitted fools who can’t tell the difference between left and right! I refuse to be a lab rat, made to do the so-called dominant species’ bidding. Snowball and I shall be taking over this planet and progressing their backwards society far beyond their wildest dreams! That’s what we came here for, and I will not be sidetracked again.

As for Pinky...well, his imagination can make up some personalities for his inanimate object friends once I leave. He doesn’t have any shortage of those. The newest addition to the crew is an eraser nub with the moniker of ‘Gummy’.

Signing off for now,

The Brain

o-o-o-o-o

Brain saved the new transmission to an encrypted, password-protected file. None of the scientists were technical experts, so the odds of discovery were miniscule or nonexistent. He only had five audio files in total, a meager amount compared to the hundreds of transmissions he’d made back on New Selene. The pointer hovered over the Delete All button. He didn’t have a reason to keep making transmissions when he was leaving the lab behind in just a few days.

Still, he hesitated.

Maybe he could leave it as a memento for Pinky. But even a basic level of encryption and case-sensitive password would remain far beyond Pinky’s capabilities.

Perhaps it was best to leave the issue for another night.

He logged off the computer and joined Pinky, who’d surrounded himself with Gummy and the rest of his inanimate object friends as he played a board game called Monopoly. Though Brain had looked up the rules and goals of the game during his online session out of curiosity, he didn’t really understand the appeal or mass marketability of such an unbalanced game.

Although, given the number of different versions of Monopoly out there, creating and selling his own version of the game with the title of Brainopoly could prove to be a viable plan.

Pinky was playing as if there were four players and not just a free-for-all against a nickel, button, and eraser. It became disturbingly obvious that Pinky was either overly generous or just woefully terrible at mental math, because he continually doled out the wrong amount of money from the bank or his own meager cash pile.

And Pinky was far better off if Brain cut in now, because there was no chance that anyone else was catching up to Gummy, who owned the most lucrative properties and had the largest amount of money.

He had to stop anthropomorphizing these objects. He was starting to think like Pinky, and that was an extremely distressing thought.

“You’re losing to an eraser,” Brain said. Pinky only had a few fives in currency, and the three properties he owned were all flipped over and mortgaged.

“Yeah, Gummy’s just very good at this game! Narf!” Pinky said as he rolled the dice for Mr. Button. “It’s so nice of him to let us sleep in his Marvin Garden Apartments though. Otherwise we’d be homeless!”

“Nice indeed,” Brain replied. For his peace of mind, he didn’t dare press for more details.

Pinky threw the dice, then moved the bucket token seven spaces, landing on the Luxury Tax space. “That’ll be seventy-five dollars, Mr. Button,” Pinky said as he gathered the money, which only totaled sixty. And Mr. Button’s four properties were all mortgaged. Pinky realized this too. “Oh...you don’t have enough. Poit.”

Any normal player would’ve tossed in the towel right there, but Pinky wasn’t a conventional player by any means. He frowned, scratched his head, then picked up his own pile of fives and tossed them onto the sixty, bringing the amount to seventy-five, with two leftover fives for Mr. Button.

“You can have that, Mr. Button!” Pinky chirped as he dumped the luxury tax money in the middle of the board. “With a little more for the bus!”

Pinky had completely knocked himself out of the game.

This was supposed to be an extremely competitive game for families and seasoned professionals, right? Though the rules of Monopoly appeared confusing and controversial to most players, he was certain that nobody would willingly lose with such a reckless method.  

Well...maybe it was just a fluke. Pinky was only playing against himself, so if he wanted to give up the money to something he was making the decisions for, that was his choice.

Besides, he couldn’t watch this game much longer.

“I’ll be your next opponent,” Brain announced. He’d never played before, but the basics seemed simple enough. And the math involved was basic arithmetic he could do in his sleep. “Reset the board at once, Pinky.”

Pinky’s tail wagged as he gathered up the houses and hotels and tossed them back into the box, then settled down as he skillfully shuffled the Community Chest and Chance cards. From the way he hummed and twirled around, an outsider could easily mistake Brain for a playmate instead of an opponent.

Brain quickly read over the instruction sheet, then divided the game currency into a starting amount for himself, Pinky, and the bank.

“Can I be in charge of the property cards, Brain?” Pinky asked as he organized them by color.

“Yes, but I shall handle all other banker duties,” Brain said. ��Listen closely, Pinky. I’ve looked up stories about Monopoly games going on for a long time with no definitive winner, so we’ll stop the game when one of us runs out of money, or if chance has favored you or I enough that we can place a hotel on the board.”

“Chance always has a problem with favoritism,” Pinky said as he moved the horse token to the Go space. Indeed, chance hasn’t always favored members of either of their species, but it could stand to be more merciful during a board game. He hugged the horse token to his chest. “Anyways, Pharfigtwoton is always my choice! What’s yours?”  

Brain didn’t understand how anyone in their right mind would want to play as a wheelbarrow or bucket, and the only pieces that interested him at all were the ones that resembled modes of Terran transportation. In the end, he chose the battleship.

He was tempted to call it the Conquistador Two, but he didn’t want to follow the trend of naming random objects.

“Good one!” Pinky said as he pushed the ship over to the horse token. “A gorgeous ship like this needs a name...so I hereby dub thee Battley McBattleface!”

“We’re calling it the Conquistador Two, and that’s final,” Brain snapped.

“The Conquesodor Two,” Pinky agreed.

They tossed the dice to decide turn order, and Pinky won that battle easily since Brain had the misfortune to roll double ones.

On his first turn, Pinky managed to land on St. Charles Place with a high roll. He happily shelled out the money required to buy the property. “I’m putting a nice dog park here!” he declared, placing the unused dog token in the magenta space above the property. “Now Pharfigtwoton can give rides to all the puppies!”

Brain didn’t know if Monopoly required players to create their own storyline, but it certainly made the game more interesting and baffling at the same time. He rolled the dice, sighing when he could only advance to Reading Railroad.

He hoped it wouldn’t be a trend for Pinky to receive high rolls while he was stuck in the first half of the board.

But he quickly changed his mind once he paid up for Reading Railroad and read through the card information. Just like any real life war or corporate strategy, the key to his victory would lie in controlling the flow of transportation and goods!

Pinky landed on New York on his next turn, rambling about taking all the puppies to New York for a double decker bus tour of the city as he slid a stack of bills to Brain. Brain sighed and tossed an extra twenty bill back at Pinky. He wished Pinky would pay more attention to adding properly than the make-believe puppies.

Brain rolled the dice and moved his battleship to Virginia, claiming the property so Pinky couldn’t control one-fourth of the board this early in the game.

“Brain, can I have a house?” Pinky asked as he drew a Community Chest card. He read through the card and grinned. “Awww, I got second in a beauty pageant! Thank you, everyone! It’s such an honor! Oh, and it says I also won ten dollars.”

“You don’t meet the conditions required for a house, Pinky,” Brain said, giving Pinky a ten. He didn’t care about the fake beauty pageant, just that money was either gained or lost depending on luck of the draw.

“Oh, I’ll keep them off the board,” Pinky promised. “I just want a house for Terry to live in.”

He held up the dog token, who was now apparently called Terry.

“Fine, but don’t mix your ridiculous fantasies with the board,” Brain sighed and tossed a green house at Pinky, which smacked him in the head when he didn’t catch it in time. Pinky laughed it off and coaxed Terry to stand next to the house.

Houses and hotels. His Internet searches on the Clarkes led to tons of websites on the Terran real estate market and hotel industry.

Which reminded Brain that he hadn’t shared his research into the Clarkes with Pinky yet. There hadn’t been enough time during the day, where the incompetent scientists poked and prodded them. And in Brain’s case, tried to figure out where the antennae came from.

Their hypotheses, and he was being exceedingly generous when he described their speculation and conspiracy theories as hypotheses, amounted to claiming a Terran mouse and insect had reproduced together.

“I’ve brushed up on the Clarkes so we can properly impersonate them at the party. According to-scrik!” Brain hissed under his breath when he landed on New York and had to pay Pinky.

“Sixteen please!” Pinky chirped. “All proceeds will go to buying toys and treats for good dogs in need!”

Brain grudgingly gave up the sixteen. Probability was not on his side tonight. “As I was saying before cruel fate reared its ugly head, the man I shall impersonate, Anthony Clarke, is an esteemed real estate and luxury hotel mogul, with a net worth in the billions. His success is rooted in savvy, ruthless business against competitors. It appears that he and Lamont are old college acquaintances, which we can spin to our advantage. And...yes! B&O Railroad!”  

He claimed the B&O Railroad for himself, and Pinky wrinkled his nose. “I wouldn’t ride on the Body Odor Railroad even if you pay me in cheese,” he said.

Brain rolled his eyes. “The temptation for cheese is too powerful for your empty mind and bottomless stomach.”

“You’re right, Brain. It’s too yummy.” Pinky licked his lips. “So does that make me Mrs. Zoey Clarke then? Unless he divorced her already. I haven’t kept up with them in a while.” The butler on the phone had made a similar comment, thoroughly expecting ‘Mr. Clarke’ to divorce his spouse by the end of the week.

“So you’re aware of the Clarkes,” Brain said. He rolled the dice, and chance immediately sentenced him to jail. He had to push his battleship all the way to the jail space.  

But all of this divorcing nonsense was trivial to his goals. Hardly worth a footnote.

The objective was to infiltrate the party, mingle with the guests to throw off suspicion, then steal the military weapon and take over the world, not involve himself in a Terran’s relationship drama.

“Ooh, tough.” Pinky clicked his tongue in sympathy as he bought Waterworks. “But everyone knows who the Clarkes are. Didn’t you see anything about all those divorces when you looked them up?”

“I’m more interested in his business ventures than his messy personal life,” Brain replied. “All this talk about divorce is simply incidental. But now I digress. Escaping jail so I may continue my conquering campaign is of utmost priority.”

“Doubles! Doubles!” Pinky chanted as Brain threw the dice. A two and three faced up, but no doubles. Pinky deflated, but only for a moment. Then he picked up a fifty. “Here, Brain. I’ll bail you out.”

From Brain’s brief skim over the rules, he didn’t recall a single one that allowed players to bail each other out of jail. He wanted to refuse and tell Pinky to focus on winning for himself, but obtaining Pennsylvania Railroad, which he’d missed the first time he’d passed through this section of the board, was just too tempting.  

Brain took the fifty from Pinky, put it in the bank, then moved his battleship out of jail and used his draining resources to buy Pennsylvania Railroad. Only afterward did he realize that he’d been steadily losing money every turn and hadn’t gained anything since the beginning of the game.

Contrast to Pinky, who rolled a twelve and skipped over the last fourth of the board, placing him squarely on the Go space and guaranteeing himself a free two hundred. Then he rolled a low number and bought Mediterranean.

A poor investment, given that it was hardly worth anything. But Pinky didn’t think so.

And he wouldn’t stop cooking up new fantasies either. “Now we can host a beach jubilee for your welcome home from jail party! With hot dogs and beach balls and those big umbrellas and-”

Brain lobbed the dice at Pinky so he’d quiet down and allow Brain to formulate a strategy in peace.

Perhaps a pass around the board without purchasing anything would be necessary. He had to rebuild his financial resources again. The downside was that Pinky could potentially take the spaces for himself, but it was entirely possible that he’d miss some of the open spaces too.

So he did just that, finally lucking out when a Community Chest card sent Pinky to Reading Railroad.

But Pinky was incapable of keeping his mouth shut, and soon he was back on the topic of the infamous Clarke divorces.

“-so I think Zoey is number eleven, and I know they all blend together, so when I confuse them I just remember divorce, beheaded, died, divorce, beheaded, survived!”

Brain stared at Pinky, praying to all the ancient Selenian gods nobody believed in anymore that Snowball didn’t have him take the identity of a murderer.

“Oh wait no, no...that’s King Henry, not Clarke. Must’ve mixed them up, poit. Sorry.”

Brain threw another green house at Pinky, nailing him in the shoulder. Pinky yelped, but once he realized he had another house he immediately thanked Brain because that meant Terry’s friend could move next door.

Since there was little point to dissuading Pinky entirely, Brain focused on his game strategy instead.

It was mostly repetition anyway. Roll dice, move piece, board event, repeat. Perhaps it would be considered tedious and monotonous, but the storylines Pinky improvised were what truly made it fascinating, even though Brain could only follow about half of it since Pinky created plotholes within the fantastical yet mundane place named Monopoly City faster than the speed of light.

According to Pinky, he and his sister co-ran an enormous pet supply shop attached to a humane animal shelter next door to the dog park. Meanwhile, Brain was conductor of a magical train and seeking the mayorship because the corrupt mayor was involved with an evil cigarette corporation who wanted to diabolically sell their products to innocent children.

And while Pinky certainly had a knack for improvisation, the matter at hand was that Brain couldn’t resist buying Boardwalk, but he’d used up a third of his money and Pinky wasn’t landing there to make up for the deficit. But Brain also had Baltic, the least valuable property, and Pinky had Park Place, which Brain desperately needed since neither of them had houses on the board yet.

This wasn’t going to be a fair trade for Pinky, but it was the best chance Brain had to etch out a victory. He was going for it.

“Park for Baltic so we can finally build some residences,” Brain said, sliding the card over to Pinky.

And to his surprise, Pinky jumped at the opportunity. “Sure, Brain! If you’ll trade me Oriental for Marvin Gardens. We’re gonna open a Chinatown district!”

He’d be giving Pinky control of the first quarter of the board, but the allure of the most expensive properties was far too tempting to pass up.

They swapped properties, then paused the game to set up their houses. Brain didn’t have enough money to buy houses for all his properties, so he set two houses on Boardwalk and hoped he could deal a staggering blow to Pinky’s finances. And even this decision was costly, for he only had $180 left.

Pinky set four houses on Baltic and clapped his hands together. “They’re beach houses,” he explained, and didn’t bother putting houses on the rest of his properties even though he could afford it.

Brain kept his mouth shut. Best not to give Pinky ideas. So he rolled the dice and got doubles.

Luxury Tax.

Scrik.

Now he was down to $105. But he’d pass Go on his next turn, so he could obtain an extra two hundred and hopefully skip this portion of the board.

Then he landed on Baltic.

He slowly looked at Pinky, and Brain couldn’t tell if Pinky was being perfectly innocent or just very, very good at pretending to be perfectly innocent. “That’ll be $320 please,” Pinky said.

Including the two hundred from passing Go, he’d only have a grand total of $305.

And according to the conditions he’d set, he’d lost the game through losing all his money.

“Can’t pay it,” Brain sighed. “Congratulations, Pinky. You’ve bested me.”

Pinky giggled and threw his play money in the air in celebration. “Aw, thanks for playing with me! I’ve never played Monopoly with anyone before. Never been able to get the board to Pharfignewton’s stable without the play money flying all over the street. It took me a long time to pick it all up. We should definitely do this again, Brain! Troz!”

But there wouldn’t be a next time. No matter how much he wanted to be victorious in another match against Pinky.

“Yes, we should,” Brain forced out, willing his racing heart to calm down so he wasn’t caught in his lie.

Pinky beamed, and Brain only wished it wasn’t so difficult to explain.

o-o-o-o-o

Terran Date 4.29.2015

Tonight, we shall seek appropriate outfits for the masquerade ball. I have been informed that my jumpsuit is not considered formal attire and that we will need to shop for proper clothing. However, I will be bringing my jumpsuit along since I will not return to the lab, and I require my conquering outfit to carry out our plans.

Pinky knows a place that may contain what we need. He’s spent the last two hours finishing his hat for the Kentucky Derby and has proudly shown off the finished product to me. Though I’ll admit that the result can only be considered a hat if one is generous with their definition.

I have not been able to contact Snowball. I can only assume he’s making the necessary preparations on his end.

Signing off for now,

The Brain

o-o-o-o-o

They stood in front of an enormous building with bright neon letters, impossible to miss even with his direction-challenged companion. Thankfully, it was only a few blocks from the lab. After the scientists strapped him to a machine that tested centrifugal force, he didn’t have the energy to walk much further.

“Welcome to Toyz ‘B’ We, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed, and Brain cringed at the horrendous grammar of that name. “It's the most wonderfulest toy shop ever!”

Wonderfulest wasn’t a word, but Brain was given no time to inform Pinky of that fact before Pinky dragged him to the entrance, where a large, cartoonish statue of a Terran bee stood off to the side, greeting customers with a cheerful wave of her magic wand.

“So that’s the mascot, Becky Bee,...let’s see, those are the shopping carts and the baskets and those machines that give you washable tattoos-”

“Focus on the clothing, Pinky. Not all the extraneous material,” Brain reminded him as they entered the store. Unlike their disastrous mall trip, Brain had brought along a source of money, an ACME credit card one of the scientists had carelessly left at their desk after purchasing a chair online.

They had a right to use the card as ACME employees who never got paid for their hard labor in experiments. And he promised Pinky he’d give it back once they were through purchasing the necessary items, so it didn’t catch on that pesky ‘no stealing’ radar.

Based on Pinky’s descriptions of the store, he expected an interior full of wonder, excitement, and interesting objects designed for enjoyment for young Terrans.

Instead, everything was a sterile white, yellow, or black. Rectangular kits of building blocks of all shapes and sizes sat neatly in a row, their price tags dusty as if they hadn’t been moved or cleaned in some time.

Dozens of bee models hung from the ceiling rafters, all of them sharing the exact same dead stare and pose. The whole setup was rather unnerving, and Brain averted his eyes.

He spotted two workers at the registers. They scrolled through their phones, not noticing Pinky’s cheerful greeting as he skipped past them. A third worker called out in alarm to them, and they suddenly dropped their phones and picked up rags, repetitively wiping their counters in circles in a poor attempt to appear busy.

The only one who acted like they were in a store meant for entertainment was Pinky, who oohed and ahhed and zigzagged all over the place to get a look at all the toys.

“Brain, look at this Barbie convertible! It’s so sparkly!” Pinky exclaimed before darting off to admire the box art on five-hundred piece jigsaw puzzles, then crawled onto the lowest shelf to hug a life-sized chihuahua plushie. “Narf! This one’s a cutie! And I also like the polka-dotted lizard, that green unicorn, and that rainbow koala looks really soft too-”

Brain grabbed Pinky’s tail, yanking him out of the shelf and onto the floor.

“This store’s already eroding whatever’s left of your mind,” Brain said, dragging Pinky away from the stuffed animals.

Pinky propped himself up on his elbows, humming as they passed aisle upon aisle of action figures, balls, and building blocks.

It was strange how they seemed to be the only customers here. Shouldn’t there be more snot-nosed brats running amok or haggard parents corralling them so they didn’t destroy everything with their grubby hands?

Still, perhaps he shouldn’t complain.

It was a relief that he didn’t have to worry about people trampling him underfoot for now.

But the peace didn’t last long, since Pinky suddenly peeled away in a completely different direction, forgetting that Brain was hanging onto his tail. Though he tried to dig his heels in, Pinky was too fast and the floor too slippery for Brain to bring them to a halt.

Then Pinky stopped on his own, and Brain only caught a glimpse of a metallic table leg before he crashed face-first into it, his nose smarting from the impact.

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky said sheepishly, and there were five upside-down images of him. Brain swatted at the one in the middle, but his hand hit empty air instead. He shook his head to clear his vision, and all but the Pinky on the far left vanished.

Pinky didn’t stay put for long, darting past Brain. He hauled himself up the table leg and onto a light blue tablecloth. “You have to come up and see this, Brain!” Pinky squealed, peering over the edge of the table, his tail wagging beside him. “There’s an entire fence made of Legos here!”

Brain sighed, wondering if it was an exercise in futility to get Pinky to focus on the task at hand. “This is the last time I’ll repeat myself!” Brain shouted as he climbed up to retrieve Pinky. “We’re here for the clothes and-”

Though Brain only took fifteen seconds to ascend, Pinky managed to don a cropped, checkered top that showed off his slender stomach and a very short blue skirt in that short timeframe.

“Well, what do you think?” Pinky giggled and twirled in circles, the skirt flying in a graceful arc around his waist. “I could go square dancin’ in this, pardner! Yee-narf!”

Realizing he’d been staring at Pinky’s exposed stomach rather than making proper eye contact, Brain quickly turned away and pretended to find a row of small toy cars interesting. Next to the toy cars, there was a menagerie of small, plastic animals penned in by a colorful fence.

Part of a garden themed jigsaw puzzle served as a lawn under his feet, the pieces leading up to an enormous pink dollhouse.

Pinky took off the clothes he’d tried on, neatly threading a bent wire through the crop top and skirt and hanging them on a piece of string that served as a makeshift clothesline. There were five different clotheslines, each stocked to the brim with a variety of colorful articles.

Brain thumbed through the selection, though he didn’t feel an attachment to any of these pieces. While these clothes were designed for toys, most of them were still too big for him.

Finding something that would fit would be more difficult than he realized.

There was a large empty space past all the clotheslines, but it seemed it would be filled in soon enough. The display had all the signs of being a work in progress, and Brain couldn’t help but wonder who had the patience to put all this together. Certainly not the bored workers at the registers.

It was a welcome splash of creativity from the rest of the dull store.

“Poit. This is exactly how I imagined my dream home to be,” Pinky said in awe. He walked up to the front door and popped it open, revealing a spacious interior. Brain followed Pinky inside and they explored the first floor together, which contained a kitchen, living room, and a playroom.

“I really like the coloring on those kitchen cabinets, and the fireplace is a great touch! Very retro. And the kiddies will have a grand ol’ time in the playroom,” Pinky said as they climbed the staircase to the second floor and walked through two bedrooms and a bathroom.

“Marble countertops would make the kitchen and bathroom more refined,” Brain argued. Really, did Pinky want any visitors to think uncivilized brutes owned the house? “But the fireplace is a welcome touch.”

Pinky shrugged as they entered the master bedroom. “It’s fine as is. Now if the backyard was bigger with a dolphin-shaped swimming pool, that would be really, really amazing!”

And Brain preferred marble countertops, but since he wouldn’t be getting everything he wanted, neither would Pinky.

Brain sat on the large bed that took up half the room, the fluffy covers soft and welcoming. But they were on a mission, and future world rulers didn’t roll around on beds in an undignified manner, no matter how tempting it was.

Pinky threw open the closet doors, revealing more clothing inside. “Oh, these pajamas are lovely!” he said, pressing a yellow nightgown close to his body.

“Anything that would suit our purposes?” Brain asked. In hindsight, doing some research into what people wore for masquerade balls would’ve been helpful. He didn’t know why it slipped his mind. Perhaps Pinky’s scatterbrained traits were contagious.

“Hmmm, it’s all pajamas and casual wear,” Pinky said, flicking through the different articles. He closed the doors and reopened them, as if the formal wear would magically appear if they were out of sight. “No suits for you or the porpoises, Brain.” And he’d been so hopeful too.

“Maybe we can find something in the aisles,” Pinky said.

A sensible suggestion, for once.

Brain tried not to appear reluctant to leave the bed, but necessity demanded it. As he stood up, the fur on his neck pricked, his ears twitching towards the large window in the bedroom.

An odd sense that he was being watched came over him, and when he turned to look at the window, he saw a Terran’s eye peering into the balcony.

They stared at each other.

Then the eye blinked.

And Brain was suddenly very, very glad Snowball wasn’t here to bear witness, or he’d never hear the end of how he’d leapt onto Pinky’s back in his moment of panic.

Pinky yelped, and so did the Terran outside the window. There were several loud thuds, followed by a frantic apology.

Brain released Pinky, rubbing his face to get rid of the blush as he ran down the staircase and out the front door.

“S-sorry!” a young woman stammered as she bent down to pick up several packages of toys, only to lose her large glasses on the floor in the process. She wore the standard uniform of the store. “I didn’t think anyone would be inside! I thought one of the furniture pieces fell over, that’s all!”

Pinky hopped down from the table, picking up the woman’s glasses and pressing them into her hand. “It’s okay!” he chirped. “You scared us good, but now we can laugh about it! Oh, your name tag says Sharon! What a lovely name! I’m Pinky, that chubby alien up there is Brain, and we’re going to a party this weekend where we’ll raise awareness for the plight of frosted animal crackers!”

“That’s not the event’s objective,” Brain corrected, and he had no choice but to let Pinky come to his own conclusions. Stealing the secret weapon on Lamont property would remain classified information as promised. “And if you call me chubby again, I shall have to hurt you.”

Sharon took her glasses from Pinky with a tentative smile, then let him climb up her arm and onto her shoulder. “Zort! You have very good taste in Polly Pocket dolls!” Pinky said, peering down at the packages in her hands. “Do you collect?”

Sharon blushed. “I, um, have a lot of Beanie Babies at home. I’m not really interested in Polly Pockets, but they’d fit much better in this display than a standard Barbie.” She glanced at Brain. “I’m sorry, could you please move? I’m putting a few things in that area.”

Brain moved out of the way as Sharon carefully opened the packages. Then she placed several small tables and chairs in the empty space next to the clotheslines, bending the dolls’ legs into sitting positions and placing them on the chairs. She worked slowly and diligently, taking great caution to not knock anything over or break the items.

“Did you make all this?” Pinky asked. “It’s amazing!”

“Y-yeah, I did. The display, I mean. Not the toys.” Sharon didn’t look at Pinky as she straightened one of the Lego fences. “Store’s been on the decline, and because there’s not really much to do, I’m trying to create a few displays to generate some interest. The toys in this one were supposed to be thrown away since nobody’s buying them, even on clearance, but it just seemed so wasteful.”

She was resourceful. It was a valuable trait, but she seemed more embarrassed than anything.

“Take pride, Sharon. It’s an excellent use of parts,” Brain advised.

Pinky nodded eagerly. “And you’re saving the toys from the evil furnace! I’m sure they’re very grateful to you when you’re not looking!”

“You...you really like it?” Sharon lifted her glasses and wiped a tear from her eye. “Nobody’s ever really noticed my efforts around here.”

“Well, they should!” Pinky declared. “I’ll tell them so myself!”

Sharon smiled as Pinky hugged her face, then rejoined Brain on the table. “Thanks, but I don’t think you came to this store just to invade a toy home.”

“No, we didn’t,” Brain said, seeing his opportunity and seizing it. “We require formal clothes for a masquerade ball, and unfortunately, we haven’t seen anything of interest yet.”

“There’s plenty of interesting things in here, Brain,” Pinky said. “Like the busybody bees up on the ceiling!”

Apparently they had two very different definitions of interesting.

“Well, I can bring out some items from the back,” Sharon offered. “We had to pull the entire line of formal Zuma Ben accessories last week. Some parents found the outfits a little scandalous for their kids, so now the accessories are just going in the trash. But maybe you’ll find something to wear from the pile. Be right back, guys!” She walked away, her steps growing slightly more confident.

“Real Zuma Ben accessories?” Pinky clasped his hands to his cheek. “I’ve never worn anything like that before!”

“It’s just a name,” Brain said. He didn’t see why Pinky was treating Zuma Ben’s name like a sacred object. “As long as we’re dressed to impress, the name doesn’t matter.”

“I just think they’re pretty,” Pinky replied. “And I like looking at them, even if I can’t buy anything. Still, I’m really happy with the clothes I have now.”

But Pinky had a sizable wardrobe. Those clothes had to come from somewhere.

“So how did you obtain your clothes if you never bought them?” Brain asked.

Pinky smiled. “The scientists. They’ll drop clothes into my cage, which is really nice of them! One time, I put on this pretty sundress they gave me and I started itching really bad. I was jumping around like a tiny monkey and I managed to make them all laugh! I must’ve been quite the sight!”  

Pinky laughed at the memory, but Brain was more disturbed at how the blatant act of humiliation didn’t affect him in the slightest. Then the laugh faltered and restarted at a higher pitch.

No, that initial assessment was wrong. True, Pinky could withstand many things, but not even the most resilient being could tolerate the sound of mockery for long.

Should he say something? Was an ‘I’m sorry’ sufficient? Was there any act of comfort that didn’t involve unnecessary physical contact?

Brain wanted to be decisive, but dozens of scenarios played out in his head, and none of them led to a satisfactory outcome. Tell Pinky to cease his laughter, embrace him, talk about the weather. He didn’t know.

Emotions led to nothing but trouble.

“Quit staring,” Brain snapped when Pinky wouldn’t stop watching him like he wanted something.

Pinky’s ears fell, but Sharon came back before the pang of guilt could fully settle in Brain’s stomach.

“Thanks for waiting, guys,” Sharon said as she dumped the accessory packages onto the table. “See anything you like?”

“All of them!” Pinky declared, happily tossing a three-pack of formal dresses into the air. He tried tearing it open, but the packaging wouldn’t give. Sharon helpfully tore it open for him, and Pinky made a happy, grateful sound before pulling a sparkly purple dress over his body. He twirled around. “So how do I look?”

“Lovely,” Sharon giggled as she pulled out her phone. She set it against the Lego fence, allowing Pinky to see himself in the camera app.

“I’ll put this as a maybe,” Pinky said. “But I have to give all the dresses a chance too!”

He tried four other dresses on in quick succession, and all of them went into the maybe pile.

Meanwhile, Brain searched through his choices of men’s formal wear. He wanted the best possible option for successful infiltration, but he didn’t know much about Terran fashion. His nose wrinkled at a powdered blue suit with far too many ruffles. He was fairly certain that wouldn’t garner respect on any planet, so he pushed the offending pack away from his other options.

The pure white suit would get stained too easily. He needed something darker. That one was out.

“Hey Brain, what about this one?” Pinky asked. He now wore a long sleeved lime green dress, which Brain found extremely tacky and unappealing to the eyes. Not even Pinky could salvage that monstrosity. Yet in Pinky’s hands, there was a black suit with a white shirt underneath. Not extravagant by any means, but since the coloration was similar to his conquering attire, it was the most probable choice by far.

But while Pinky was comfortable with changing in front of others, Brain wasn’t so keen on the idea.

“I require privacy,” Brain said. He took the suit from Pinky and went inside the house, shutting the door behind him and ensuring the shutters were closed.

Then he removed his gloves and jumpsuit, shivering from the cold air as he laid the items over a chair. He put on the new set of pants first, then the white collared shirt, and finally buttoned the jacket over his abdomen.

Well, it was comfortable. And it hid most of his stomach too, which was also a positive. But he needed to see how it looked in the light before making a judgment call, so he rejoined Pinky and Sharon, who were playing with different filters on her phone while Pinky wore a magnificent feathery pink dress.

“Now you really look like a flamingo,” Sharon laughed as Pinky changed the filter to sepia, the image now different shades of tan. Pinky blew a kiss to the camera. “This one’s my favorite so far,” Pinky declared with a graceful curtsey.

And the sleeveless feathery dress did seem to match his personality much better than all the other dresses. Flamboyant and quirky, but inviting and friendly as well. A darker pink feather boa was draped over his shoulders, and purple feathers fanned out from the back of his neck. A light green choker was wrapped around his neck. Then Pinky added a matching headband with a light pink tuft to complete the ensemble.

“That will certainly make an excellent first impression on the partygoers,” Brain said.

Pinky changed the phone filter back to normal with one hand, playing with the feather boa in his other. “Egad, you really think so?” he exclaimed. “Hold on a sec, Brain. Where’s the rest of your outfit?”

“Rest of?” Brain echoed. “This doesn’t require anything else.”

Pinky shook his head and dug a red bow and matching sash out of the clothes pile. “You need a few splashes of color, Brain! Or you’ll just end up a sad wilty wallflower!”

“They’d really match your circles,” Sharon added.

Well, he’d always looked good in red. It was a bold, attention-grabbing color.

Brain draped the sash over his shoulder and fastened the bow around his ear, checking himself over in Sharon’s phone. Then Pinky and Sharon started giggling for some odd reason.

“What?” Brain asked. He was presentable at a formal event now, wasn’t he?

“You’re kinda wearing it wrong,” Sharon admitted.

His ears flattened from embarrassment. Selenians typically wore practical jumpsuits with minimal accessories, and none of their databanks ever mentioned Terran outfits. They must’ve found it unimportant.  

“Don’t worry, Brain. It’s an easy fix! May I?” Pinky exclaimed.

Brain nodded his permission, and Pinky removed the bow from Brain’s ear and carefully fastened it underneath his collar, taking great care to not pull the bow too tightly around his neck.

“So this isn’t a sash. It’s a cummerbund and you wear it around your stomach,” Pinky explained as he demonstrated the proper way to wear it. It was relieving to know Terrans made accessories that would hide the slight bulge, and Brain donned the cummerbund correctly.

The accessories really did match his orbs. For the first time, he was dressed to the nines and it was a glorious feeling indeed.

“Aw, you’re both so spiffy!” Sharon exclaimed. “Mind if I put a photo of this on the Twitter page to boost some interest?”

“We’ll return the favor,” Brain said. She deserved some reward for helping them out anyway.

Sharon turned her phone around, ready to snap the picture when Pinky suddenly darted out of frame. “Hold on! Narf!” he cried, shoving a small blue butterfly-themed mask into Brain’s hands and flipping a pink feathery mask over his face. “It’s a masquerade ball, you know!”

While Brain’s mask only covered the area around his eyes, Pinky’s face was mostly hidden by his birdlike mask, leaving only his bright blue eyes exposed.

“Doesn’t that tickle?” Brain inquired as Pinky stretched his boa out for a picture.

Pinky shrugged. “A little. But I don’t mind!”

“Smile for the camera, you guys!” Sharon grinned.

Brain didn’t smile, but he stood in front of the toy house while Sharon snapped pictures and Pinky struck a different pose with every shot.

Pinky’s laughter rang joyously in Brain’s ears.

He would leave that sound behind in just a few days. But it was a small price to pay for the world.

End AN: Maybe this chapter is a little disjointed, but oh well. Sharon is based off the toy store worker who helps the mice in Brain’s Night Off. 

I tried to do the math for the Monopoly game and even pulled out my Monopoly property cards so I could get the amounts correct, but if anything is inaccurate I am hereby excused from responsibility because I am a writer and not a mathematician. Yes i use that excuse every time but it’s true. 

Brain's outfit comes from the tuxedo he wore in the reboot's Future Brain episode. Pluto designed Pinky's outfit herself (somehow we both were thinking lots of pink feathers for Pinky) and deserves all the credit for it cause it's so beautiful. I chose a butterfly mask for Brain and a flamingo theme for Pinky.

[hermit-pistol]

Guido Mista Fluff Alphabet:

Okay Mista fans, here’s your food. Only one more alphabet and this series will be one! Make sure to show love and read under the cut!

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Mista has a super adventurous personality and this also shows in the activities that you two take part in. He always likes to do things that others would usually think of as silly, like going to the zoo. But! He always finds a way to make it entertaining and unforgettable. (Who wants to hold the baby kangarooooo)

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He loves your laugh, and whenever he gets to hear it, it feels like the best reward for him. While he may have flirted with his fair share of girls in the past, looks aren't most important to him. In order to get you rolling around on the floor, he'll have to pull out the big guns, of course. Sometimes he'll tag team with Narancia to pull pranks just to get a rise out of you.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Mista absolutely hates when you're sad because that also makes him feel sad. When he sees you sulking on the couch, he joins you, wrapping his large arms around you. He'll keep asking you why you're sad while sticking out his lower lip, (which was absolutely lethal for you). Soon after, you forgot why you were down in the dumps, which was Mista's main goal the whole time.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He's a romantic, so he's always thinking about the future and what it will bring in regards to his love life. Within a few years of dating, he'll already want to move in and get a dog. Maybe two dogs, who knows. He sees marriage, children, grandchildren...all of it.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Mista can be pretty stubborn in certain situations. He will make the plans for dates and activities that the two of you can enjoy. He'll always ask you for your input, of course. Overall, the balance of power in the relationship is equal.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Mista can be a little childish when disagreements are involved. There's a possibility that he'll use humor to get out of a sticky situation, but don't let him get away with this all the time. If he's in the wrong let him know, or else things can get blown out of proportion easily.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Mista thanks you for the companionship and happiness that you've brought into his life. You are the longest relationship that he's had in quite some time given his current line of work, and he loves that you have the patience to stick around with him. Even though his stand keeps him company most of the time, he's glad to share time with another human.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Mista is very honest with you. Whether it be where he's going on a mission (sometimes, Bruno yells at him for telling you this), or telling you about his past before joining the organization, he's very transparent with you. You appreciate this, and make sure that you do the same. Hardly any secrets are kept between you.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Like R mentions 👀, you inspire him to keep himself clean. Of course, a normal person would want to keep up with appearances but Mista is a very special guy.... While he was cheerful before the relationship he's over the moon when he sees you and prioritizes your time together.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Mista will be quiet, which is very uncharacteristic of him. His stand will always manifest and say whatever he’s thinking, probably along the lines of taunting and verbally harassing the person you’re talking to before they eventually grow frustrated and walk away. The Pistols would cheer, celebrating their victory.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Mista's kisses are very eager and wanting. In addition, he doesn't care who's around and has absolutely no problem with kissing in public. Even if you blush and get embarrassed this only give him another reason to hold you tighter and go to town. Prepare yourself... 😳

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Mista will literally confess to you on the street. The first time he tells you that he loves you is actually in casual conversation. You had to do a double take, and he merely shrugged in response. It would take some getting used to, but you were elated that he felt the same as you!

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He'll want to get married after his time in Passione is over, or at least has settled down to where he can live comfortably with you. The ceremony will be small, with only a few family members attending. Even if you haven't yet upgraded to a larger living space, he'll want to start a family right away. If you decide you're not ready you remind him that the Pistols are already his children.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Every name invented is fair game. He loves using stupid niche names too that come up after a few months of dating. Examples include but are not limited to: "green bean", "lil mami", and "bicycle crusher" (the last refers to your thighs in a related incident).

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He tells the gang that he's crushing on someone all the time, so when he first reveals that he's in love they really don't believe him at first. Although he "always says that", it's the Pistols that escalate the situation even further. Whenever you're along with him they'll come out and start egging him on with kissy noises and the like. He'll turn as red as a tomato when you grant him his wish.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Mista LOVES to show you off in public, and he loves watching the reactions of the passerby as he has an arm slung around your waist traveling dangerously close to your butt. It drives him nuts that out of all of the guys in Italy you chose him, and now that you two are a couple he wants to show the world.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

While many other guys may hate the concept of hugging, Mista loves it wholeheartedly. Whenever you're having a bad day, a good day, or are just walking around he won't hesitate to wrap his arms around you and smile. Sometimes the Pistols will even join in for a group hug! He's basically the hug king, and you're not opposed to that role.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Very romantic babey. Since he’s so smelly he would suggest taking a bath or shower with you. This will take some extreme confidence from both of you. Whether it becomes sexual or not, just being intimate in this way is so special to him.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He believes in you like nobody's business. Also, he loves seeing when you follow through with your goals and sees your dreams coming to fruition! It's extremely exciting for him, and you love seeing his reactions to watching you succeed.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Mista loves the thrill that life and living provides. There's something new that arises every day you spend with him, and you never get bored. Loves booking hotel rooms for trips and the like and not telling you until the night before, which can be stressful yet cute.

U nderstanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Mista is stupid but means well. Sometimes you can quiz him, and he'll still forget something as simple as your favorite food, or your favorite color. In time, he'll learn more about you and your emotions, but for now every time you tell him a fact about yourself he'll write it in his phone so he doesn't forget. 🥺

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Mista will be so cheesy about telling you how much you mean to him. -"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...."- <-- If he pulls anything like this he usually givers you permission to slap him. You're one of the only partners that's stuck around with him for this long, and he's not planning on letting you go any time soon.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Mista insists that he should help around the house at times, and this means that he's going to help with the chores in any way that he can. You end up assigning him grocery shopping (a big mistake). He is so unorganized and claims that he doesn’t need a list to go off of, and this usually results in him buying whatever he wants. Watch him get all the way home and still manage to forget the milk and bread. Good thing he bought the family pack of ice cream sandwiches though.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

If you look up affectionate in the dictionary, there's a very good chance that you'll see Mista's name. He loves to cuddle with you and especially loves to nap with you because of the intimacy. Mista can nap anywhere, anytime, but he prefers falling asleep with you in his arms!

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Mista will be soooo needy when you are away, and so will the Pistols. When you have the free time between class or meetings he'll call you begging for you to come home with his six children screaming in the background. Eventually, it'll get to be too much and you have no choice but to come home, much to his delight. He'll never let you go.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Mista will definitely buy you presents if he has the money at hand. Expect lavish gifts like jewelry and clothes from him, whether it's a special occasion or not. If he could, he'd give you the world, but at times you have to remind him that you have more than enough and you don't need to be impressed by physical possessions.

[s-creations]

Oh, That Imagination

Kids will always have active imaginations. But how the adult handles it depends on what the child is afraid of.

Fandom: DuckTales 2017 / The Three Caballeros         Rating: General Audience         Relationships/Pairings:  José  Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles Additional Tags: Growing up, Uncles with their Nephews, Facing Fears, Worries, hunting a creature, Krampus (character), giving a speech, watching a scary movie, protecting the boys, the passing of time, names OCs.

Part of a Series Called: We’re the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros!

Author Note: I finished Student Teaching and passed my Content Test, so I’m getting back into writing! I do have a new job lined up for the school year. We’ll see how consistent I stay with uploading. XD

“Unca Donald, Unca Donald, Unca Donald!”

 Even with the loud warning call, Donald still staggers when something blue collides against his leg. “Dishes! I’m doing dishes. Go and sit on the counter please.”

 6-year-old Dewey gave a quick nod before clamoring up. The older duck impressed by how quickly the duckling could climb. 

 “Now, what can I help you with?”

 “Benny said there’s a-a monster living in the sewage of Duckberg! I wanna go catch it!”

 Donald let out a low hum as he washed the soap from the glass. This was twice in two weeks that neighbor Benny had told some story about some ‘creature’ they had seen. Dewey, always on the lookout for new adventures, ate each story up with determination and gusto.

 “I see, very interesting. What does this monster look like?”

 “Like...Like an alligator. Only bigger!”

 “Ooooh, that sounds scary. And you’re going to catch them all by yourself?”

 “Yep!”

 “Well, aren’t you brave. Are you going to bring them back to be studied for science?”

 “I’m gonna do it to rub it in Huey’s face. Cuz he says the creature isn’t real. But I’m gonna prove him wrong!” 

 “It sounds like your afternoon is full.”

 “It sure is! Oh, wait, I wanted to ask you if we have a large net that I could use?”

 “I don’t think we have a ‘large’ net. You’ll have your bug catching net.”

 Dewey let out a contemplative hum. Hand resting on his cheek while his pointer finger tapped out some unknown tempo. A habit he picked up from José. “That’s not great. But I suppose it’ll have to do.”

 “Look at you compromising. What are you going to use as bait?”

 “Do we have any old lunch meat?”

 “No and you’re not using what we have in the fridge.”

 “You’re ruining the search Unca Donald! I need bait.”

 “How about you take Tio Panchito with you? He had to help his grandpa search for farm animals when they got out of their pens. Didn’t have to use bait to get those animals back.”

 “Tio worked on a farm?” Dewey’s eyes lit up hearing this new piece of information.

 “Spent a few childhood Summers there.”

 “What did he do?”

 “Why don’t you go and ask him? I’m sure he would be more than happy to share stories with you and your brothers.”

 “Okay, bye Unca Donald! I’m gonna learn about cows!”

 Donald silently laughed as Dewey raced out of the kitchen. Childhood stories continued during dinner and only ended when the triplets were put to bed. 

 “So...should I question why Dewey furiously ran at me this afternoon? All while screaming his demands for me to tell stories?” The rooster asked as Donald joined him and José on the living room couch. 

 “Apparently, Benny had seen some ‘creature’ in the sewer system. Dewey determined that he was going to hunt said being down. I told him you would help in the search because you’ve helped with finding lost farm animals. That caught his attention and now you know the outcome.” Donald sighed as he leaned against the other, relaxing. 

 “Do you think the thrill of the hunt will call out to Dewey tomorrow?”

 “We’ll see.” Donald replied back simply.

 The hunt did not call out the next day. Dewey focused on creating a backyard zoo, he didn’t have time to worry about some creature. A few days later, a pet iguana was rescued from the neighborhood sewers. It appears Benny had actually seen something. It just wasn’t the towering creature he’d claimed before.

 ________________

 The holidays were busy for all the adults in the household. Donald focused on getting the shopping done and holding down the fort while the ducklings raced around during their school break. Gleefully talking about Santa and what present they’re excited most about. José would be gone for weeks on end leading up to December 25, helping with numerous flights to make sure he had that day off. Starting from October through December, this time saw Panchito with booked weekends of different performances to help get other families into the festive feeling. 

 Even with having busy and exhausting schedules, they made sure to make time for the triplets. Baking, decorating the house, helping them pick out gifts for the other family members. Every year it was the goal to keep the ducklings as happy as possible.

 Which is why Panchito became worried when 7-year-old Louie started acting...strange. Almost what the rooster would call ‘stressed’.

 The duckling had started being overly helpful around the house. Doing more tasks than what would be required. Going out of his way to ask if he could help. And, most worriedly, he’d become quiet. Not in his normal way of just relaxing in front of the television. But almost fearful that he was being listened to by some unseen stranger. Eyes even darting around as he moved through the apartment. 

 Unfortunately, Panchito wasn’t able to approach this possible problem until a weekend late into the duckling’s break. 

 The rooster let out a sigh as he collapsed onto the couch. Thankful that he was done until the New Year’s celebrations he had the coming weekend. But he was able to relax for the rest of the week to celebrate Christmas. Cautious footsteps drawing closer caused Panchito to open his eyes. Finding Louis standing nervously in the middle of the room.

 “Hola Louie, what can I do for you?”

 “Um, do you need me to get you anything?”

 Panchito raised a brow. “No, I’m fine. Why don’t you join me until dinner’s ready?”

 “Oh, um, that’s okay. Maybe I should see if Uncle Donald needs any help.”

 “You’re on break. Why don’t you just sit for a while?” The duckling frowned, eyes darting around before settling onto the couch. Still tense. “So, how has school been? I haven’t heard you and your brothers talk about it for a while.” 

 “Uh...good.”

 “Just good? ...Try out any new schemes lately? I know Uncle Donald isn’t so thrilled when you do that. But you always have such clever ideas, makes me laugh.”

 “Nope, I’ve been good! No crazy plans from me!” 

 Panchito sat up a little more when Louie started shouting at the ceiling. “Okay Louie, what’s going on. Are you feeling okay? Did something happen at school?”

 The duckling dressed in green wrung his hands as he peered around. 

 “...Abby told me about the Krampus…” Louie eventually whispered.

 “The who?” 

 “The Krampus! He’s the opposite of Santa Claus! A big creature with long horns and wears a cloak! And he comes after bad boys and girls! He takes them away in his large, greasy bag and they’re never seen again and-” 

 “Okay, Louie, come here. You’re getting yourself worked up.” Panchito easily and quickly moved the duckling onto his lap. Wrapping arms around the smaller form to help keep Louie grounded. “Breath with me. We’re going to take a few deep breaths, okay?”

 Louie gave two quick nods. They remained this way for a few minutes, Panchito holding the duckling close and controlling his breathing for Louie to follow. The rooster only pulled away when Louie had calmed down enough to talk. “Okay, so, you were told a scary story. Why are you worried?”

 “Because he goes after bad kids and I know I’m...not good.”

 “Why would you say that? You’re a wonderful kid!”

 “But I get the most detentions and I’m lazy and I know I don’t do my homework when I need to and-”

 ‘Louie… Yes, we would like you to work a little harder than what you do now.  But you’re not bad. You...take risks. You have a point of view that I’ve never seen before. You’re a clever kid. And, well, between you and me.”

 Panchito leaned closer. Louie’s eyes widened with curiosity. “You fight the system and you don’t let them beat you down.” 

 “...Does that mean I don’t have to wash the dishes?”

 “Don’t push your luck. What I’m trying to say is that you’re not bad. You just think differently than others. Plus, if you’re this worried, this might be a sign you should help out more. But I doubt any Krampus will come after you.”

 “Really?”

 “Really… Also, you know your uncles and I would beat up any creature who dares try to hurt you.” 

 Louie laughed. Beaming and squirming as Panchito placed a kiss on his cheek. Christmas Day arrived with no mysterious creatures knocking in their front door. Louie was still safely tucked away in his bed. Joining his brothers with running out to the living room and unwrapping presents. Curling next to Panchito as all enjoyed the afternoon glow while watching a marathon of movies.

 ________________

 Huey took to the Junior Woodchucks like a duck to water.

 From day one it became a large part of his identity. He carried his handbook around with him everywhere. Writing his own notes and entries to add to the already thick volume. Gleefully patting his knees as he patiently waited for whatever uncle was going to take him to the weekly meetings. Even learning how to iron his uniform to keep it in tip top shape. 

 Dewey may complain that the eagerness was annoying. But nothing seemed to damper Huey’s spirit.

 Until Huey was tasked to write a speech. As he was top ranked among the troop, he was given the honor of addressing the new member that would be joining that year. A banquet being held with the duckling presenting a speech of his own at the beginning of the event. The duckling was absolutely thrilled at first. Telling everyone he could about the great honor bestowed onto him. 

 All in the family thought he would triumph over this just like many other things in his life. 

 José was humming softly one evening, making his way to the kitchen when he heard sniffing coming from the bathroom. The door opened a crack and, taking a risk, José peered in. He found 8-year-old Huey, curled up by the tub and far away from the door. A stack of paper was at the duckling’s feet. Red rimmed eyes glaring at said stack. 

 “Huey?”

 Said duckling’s head snapped up hearing José. Wiping his eyes frantically. “T-Tio José…”

 “Criança doce, what is wrong?” José  entered, leaving the door open in case Huey wanted out.

 The duckling sniffed weakly. “...I’m scared.”

 “Of what?”

 “My speech…”

 José frowned, knowing how excited Huey had been only a few days ago. “Can you tell me what you are scared about?”

 Huey let out another sniff. His hand starting to hit the side of the tub as time went on. Which José put a stop to by reaching out to take the duckling’s hand. “I’m scared...that people are going to laugh at me. I keep practicing my speech to make it perfect and I read a bunch of tips but… All I can think about is messing up and people mocking me. Then my scout leader will see me as a failure and strip me of my badges and-”

 The parrot pulled the duckling closer, humming a lullaby softly. Huey instantly clung to José, burying himself away in his guardian’s chest. It took a few minutes before the duckling finally relaxed, slumped against the older, hand still keeping a good grip on José's shirt. 

 “Huey, I would like for you to listen to me. Can you do that for me?” José received a nod, “I will help you with your speech. But you have nothing to worry about. Your scout leader seems to be nothing of the kind who would take away what you’ve achieved. And no one will laugh. We all know you will be doing your best.”

 “...But what if my best isn’t enough?”

 “It always will be Huey. Never doubt that.” José peered up hearing the floorboards creek. Finding Donald standing in the doorway wearing a look of worry. The parrot gave a quick shake of his head. A silent message that he had a handle on the situation. Donald gave a nod of his own before sneaking off. “Feeling better?”

 “...A little. I’m still scared.” 

 “That is fine. How about we make some cookies? I think I saw your Uncle Donald heading that way before. And while we are doing that, you can show me your speech.” 

 Huey sniffed weakly. Pulling back slightly to look up at José. “Chocolate chip?”

 “Of course.”

 The duckling smiled weakly and nodded. Donald greeted the two with wide arms and a smile when they walked in. Huey beamed as he was picked up and given a sturdy hug from his other uncle as José started the process. But uncles gave Huey their undivided attention when he gave his speech. The other members of the family joined them as the cookies started to bake. Dewey and Louie keeping their ‘helpful’ comments to themselves and clapping along when Huey finished. 

 At the night of the banquet, Huey beamed as he gave a flawless speech. His family cheered the loudest.

 ________________

 “This is such a bad idea.” 

 9-year-old Louie huffed, rolling his eyes as Huey bemoaned at his flawless plan. “If you’re going to be a stick in the mud, then don’t watch.”

 “But I want to see it.”

 “Then what’s the issue?”

 “The movie is PG-13! We need parental guidance to watch.”

 “You know they won’t let us watch.” Dewey added.

 “But-”

 “You get two options here Hubert,” Louie interrupted. One hand holding up a finger to keep Huey quiet. The other holding the latest zombie movie that had just recently been release to DVD, “You either watch with your mouth shut. Or you leave and keep your mouth shut in the bed while you listen to the amazingness that is this movie from the closed doors. What’s it going to be?”

 Huey frowned. But he ‘zipped’ his bill closed and crossed his arms. Which the green-hoodied triplet took as keeping his mouth shut. With a nod, Louie popped the movie in and sat next to his brothers. All three were huddled together in the closet. Eyes glued to the small t.v. screen that was crammed in with them as well. The movie menu soon appeared and Dewey pressed play.

  Donald let out a content sigh as he relaxed further between his partners. Panchito clinging to him as Donald’s head was tucked under the rooster’s chin. While José was curled up at Donald’s side, using the duck’s chest as a pillow. That night was quiet and calm. There was a weekend ahead of them that was just filled with nothing. A relaxing time with his partners and kids. It was going to be great…

 A chorus of screams sounded from the triplet’s room. All adults were up and racing out in only a few seconds. Even hard to wake José was on full alert. Donald reached the door first, flinging it open. Fully expecting to see an intruder standing in the middle of the bedroom. Only to find Huey and Louie, sobbing as they clung to each other on the younger triplet’s bed. Dewey was waving his plastic sword  at the open closet. His entire being was shaking as wide, fearful eyes were on the open space. 

 “What is going on here?” Donald called out over the noise. 

 “There’s a zombie in the closet!” Louis answered.

 “It touched me!” Huey added.

 “I’m fighting it off!” Dewey finished. 

 “What- okay- Dewey stop swinging that around!” Panchito walked over and pulled the sword from the duckling. Collecting the blue cladded triplet as he continued to shake.

 Donald gathers the other two. Both of them desperately slings to the protection that was their uncle. José took to the closet, making sure it was empty. The parrot raised a brow, finding the t.v. that was still on and playing a movie. 

 He reached in to eject the movie and brought it out for the other two to see. “Donald.”

 The duck looked it over. Frowning, seeing the topic, letting out a slow breath. It was clear the triplets were in no condition to have a stern talking to. Plus, he was honestly too tired to worry about it at the moment. “Okay...let’s go back to our room.”

 The other two adults nodded. José turned off the lights as he was the last to leave the boy’s room. Donald rested himself back into the middle of the bed, only with more bodies pressed around him. Panchito cleverly left the bedside light on before he laid down on the bed, Dewey resting on his chest. The triplets flinched when José walked in.

 “It is just me.” The parrot assured. 

 Donald let out a sigh as he gently preened the top of each head. “You’re safe here. Nothing’s going to get you.”

 The bed was pressed further down as José laid down. Huey clamoring over into the parrot’s hold. Donald was free to wrap both arms around Louie. Three voices began to hum a familiar lullaby in hope of calming the triplets further. Even with their comforting presence, it took awhile for the three to fall asleep. It was not the way Donald wanted to start his weekend. But he should have known nothing he plans ever goes his way. Even with this hiccup, he was happy to have his family close. Falling asleep with a smile on his face.

 Donald was able to take his pent up frustration on the idiot who had allowed children to rent a horror movie. Panchito coming as back up to make sure the duck didn’t kill anyone.  

[delicatewerewolfsoul]

Lean on me - Seo Changbin

–pairing: seo changbin x reader, bestfriend!chan with appearence of all the members

–genre: fluff, friends to lovers au

–word count: 3.1k

–synopsis: christmas day brought one extra, more special gift that what you wished for.

–for the with love christmas! christmas collab by @hanflix (thanks rue for letting me participate in this) 

You wake up today kind of late, one thought existing in your mind "one day till Christmas". Most people would be super hyper at that time of the year, yet you were kind of bitter this particular year. "Time to spend these two last weeks of this shitty year alone" You say as you stand up from your bed to start your day by making some coffee. You pour your coffee into a cup and you sigh at the warmth your hands feel.

It wasn't that you hated Christmas, actually, you really liked the warmth of the season and how happy and hopeful it made everything seem. This year thought, was a different year. You had finally moved out finally from your parents’ house, but making it difficult to get back this time of the year. "Let's hope these days won't suck as much as I think they will" you say, your coffee now already finished, as you now put it in the sink, ready to start any other activity you could think of to get your mind away from these thoughts. As you leave the kitchen, your phone starts ringing in your pocket. You take it out and smile as you see your bestie's name on it.

"Hey Chan, how are yo-" you say and before you can finish, he cuts you off saying "Get ready loser, me and Felix are on our way to get you". You furrow your eyebrows confused as to why they would even be coming to get you. “Wait, why are you coming to get me? Chan? Hello?” you take your phone away to look at it only to see that he hung up on you. “That loser, he didn’t even say where we’re going”.

You put on some warm clothes since you had no idea where you were actually going to go and what they even had on their mind and waited for them. After no more than 5 minutes you hear some knocking on your door. You open your door and come face to face with the two dorks you called your best friends standing in your doorstep with big grins on their faces that clearly indicated that they were plotting something.

“Felix, please help them get their clothes ready” says Chan and Felix quickly goes into your room, as they both actually knew where you were going, leaving you confused as to why these sudden things were happening.

“Well, I might have rented a cabin in the woods for the Christmas… And I’m getting you there even if you’ll say no”.

He knew that you didn’t want to be a bother to them, but he also knew how much you hated the fact that you had to spent the holidays alone, so with a little help of Minho, he found the perfect solution.

“Oh no, you didn’t have to” you say pouting feeling guilty, knowing that he must have lost loads of time searching to find the perfect place to go. He didn’t even have time for himself and he did this for you? You started thinking about it. There must be something you can do right?

“Is there anything I can do? Anything I can do at least? Let me help with something okay?” getting your bag out of Felix’s hands and Chan looks at him and then laughs at that, and he just pats he side of your arm and say smiling “You idiot, just being there with us is enough… The only favor I want is that you spend time with Changbin okay? He’s been whining that you avoid him”.  

Your mouth turns into a line after that comment as you think about it. Did you actually avoid him? Well, your feelings about him might were kind of complicated this time. You don’t remember avoiding though. Yes, your answers were delayed… and kind of cold, but you were sure it wasn’t on purpose.  You turn your head to side as you try to find what to say to Chan, with a guilty look on your face and he lets out a laugh at your expression and added like it was the simplest thing in the world while opening your front door “You have feelings for him don’t you?” and you clutch your hands around the straps of your backpack tightly out of nervousness since well, he wasn’t wrong.

Felix joins you both as you both after he closes the door to your apartment and places his arm around your shoulders adding “Just talk to him, you already know each other well, there’s no way you will embarrass yourself and who knows… Maybe something will happen” and turns to look at Chan with a weird smirk on his face that you choose to not pay much attention to it.

You get into the back of the car and put your things in, you notice the many grocery bags, and as the always curious bug you were, you turn to ask Chan about it. “Why are there so many grocery bags in here? It’s past lunch time” you say after looking at your watch, knowing very well that Minho wouldn’t let anything be late or have Jisung whining about the food being late.

Chan smiles as he starts the car and Felix says “There are actually are additions for tomorrow, because Minho was in a good mood and cooked more that we actually needed today… And of course, we had everything for today ready before coming to get you cause Jisung is unbearable without his food being ready in the right time” and you all laugh at that cause you both know how he gets and how funny it is to see that happen.

“Now you, curious baby, look outside, because the scenery is very nice and it’ll take us a while to get there” Chan says and turns on some Christmas music as you get into a forest, to get you all in the Christmas mood, and you’re in awe by the scenery: beautiful tall cypress trees, covered with snow, the deep green in contrast with the bright with the bright snow.

And just like that, while your attention was on the beautiful scenery you arrive at the little cabin. As Chan abruptly stops the car, you suddenly come back to reality.  “Wait are we here?” you say “Yes, isn’t it adorable?” Felix adds, super excited about their little discovery, super happy that they actually have time to get away from their stressful everyday life.

You take a look at the cabin and you gasp, astonished the little house in front of you. A little cabin made with dark wood, the tall trees around it making it look even smaller. You have to thank Chan about this. Your love for warm looking houses and the need to get away from your ordinary life, in search of solitude was very well known to everyone that you well enough, it felt like a fresh little wind blew into your life and you couldn’t get enough from it. You let your eyes take everything in, until your eyes land on the window and the reason why it landed there, makes you laugh.

Three pairs of eyes on you behind the glass of the window with smiles on their faces, their smiles getting even bigger as they notice you looking at them, making a motion to you to come in the cabin. You open the front door and you smile in content, the interior of the cabin being exactly as the way you though it would be: wooden walls, the warm light in the center of the room making everything golden and warmer and more festive that it already was. “Whoever decorated in here, did a really good job” you say without even realizing you said and Seungmin comes your way. “That would be me and thank you” he says as he pulls you in for quick hug “no one helped if you’re curious” you giggle at that because of course no one helped, since Seungmin probably had a specific plan on his head about how everything would be. As you pull away from him, you feel a pair of arms around you and you instantly hug that person back.

“Hi Jisung, long time no see” you smile as you pull away and greet the other members noticing that the boy you’ve been looking forward seeing the most, was missing. “Wait, where’s Changbin?” you ask looking around in the room.

“He’s in the kitchen with Minho, probably stressing out about the cookies we left them bake” says Felix and you make your way towards the kitchen, curious about what they made. As you enter the kitchen you start at the way Changbin looks, forgetting every bit of nervousness you had before. He was standing there in a santa apron, taking of cookies from the pan, while Mihno was behind him with an elf apron on, putting some cookies in the oven.

“It looks like you’re having fun here” you point out, and Changbin’s eyes shoot up to look at you his whole face lighting up, taking off his apron on and opens up his arms as he comes closer, giving you a big hug. “I’m happy you’re here” he says next to your ear, and you panic, feeling your heartbeat getting faster and try to collect yourself so you can answer to him. “I’m happy to see you too, it’s been so long right?” you say and then pull away, starting to walk towards the living room where the other guys were located.

“Right, I haven’t see you since last month, but I’m happy that you’re spending Christmas with us today… About today, Felix planned a Christmas movie for all of us to watch and then we’re probably get some sleep hopefully to get ready for the party tomorrow” she says and plops down on the couch. You sit next to him, and continue talking until all the guys join you on the couch, and you feel yourself getting squeezed between Changbin and Jeongin, your whole side touching Changbin, and only that was making you forget how to breathe. He was so close to you, you could feel his warmth, his smell, making you dizzy,

After some minutes, probably sensing how uncomfortable you felt, he tries to smoothly put his around your arms, making you snuggle into him and your eyes turn wide open at the action and you glance towards Chan in panic, to find him already looking at you both, smirking at you both, and at that you remember what Felix said before you left the house and that gives you a pinch of confidence, so you push yourself closer to his side, and you look up at him, and you think you can see a tint of pink on his cheeks as he shyly smiles back at you but you turn to continue watching the movie.

As the movie ends you, Felix closes the TV in front of you and the boys begin to stretch out their limps and you stand up to clean up the bowls from the popcorn you’ve been eating, not being able to stay still, thinking the fact that you stayed in the arms of Seo Changbin for 3 hours.

“Are we gonna do anything else or are you too tired?” says Chan, tiredness evident on his voice and the boys faces. “To be honest, I really want to sleep” says and Jeongin and stands up, the other maknae line following him as well.

“What about you y/n?” says Minho, looking at you. “I think I might stay up a little, I had a really good nap before” you say and the boys agree. “Umm... I think I’ll stay up a little bit longer” says Changbin while rubbing the back of his neck looking at Chan.

“Oh really, why Changbin?” Jisung says with his usual teasing voice. Changbin tenses up, and looks at Jisung with wide, terrified eyes stuttering out a really awkward “because I’m not sleepy of course, haha, why else?” he says and glances your way, to see if you understand anything. You on the other hand were in your own world, thinking still thinking about the fact that in a few minutes, you would be alone with Changbin in the living room, not even noticing a bit of the little crisis that was happening in the other room.

You wash the left-over dishes and walk towards the living room, to see him sitting with his back towards you, on the fluffy white carpet in front of the lit fireplace. As he hears your steps, he turns around and pats the space next to him, asking you silently to join him on the floor. As you plop down, he puts the blanket he had on him, around you as well “Chan gave it to me, said it mind be better if we have it, so yeah” he says and then you both fall in a kind of awkward silence, smiling foolishly at yourselves to the fact that you’re sitting next to each other, feeling like you are teenagers all over again.

“I had a good with all of you today” you start slowly, playing with your fingers trying to follow Felix’s advice, to see if something will actually happen. “It was nice having you here as well, it’s been so long since we last had you around, it was kind of lonely without you” he says hesitantly not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You smile as you continue to share your thoughts “I thought I would be super alone this Christmas without my parents and now it’s turning into a such a beautiful new adventure, I really like it” you say and Changbin smiles and answers “I’m really glad you like it” and then instantly tenses as he feels your head on his shoulder.

A lot of thoughts cross his mind as he’s waiting for any sign that you’re awake. Did they fall asleep and that quick? Can a person actually fall asleep that quickly? After a few minutes, he sighs, being sure that had in fact had fallen asleep, and starts talking to himself.

“Ughh y/n, I feel so stupid right now. I thought this would b the perfect moment to tell you my feelings, to finally show you my heart, to actually tell you how much I wish you were mine, ho much I want to wake up to your face every morning, make you breakfast even if I suck at it”. Meanwhile you were frozen in place as you heard him, not knowing what to do, cause all of this happened because the back of your neck was hurting and decided to rest it for a bit on his shoulder, and felt content with that position that you didn’t want to move. Now you felt bad for the boy that was pouring out his heart at you, believing that you were asleep where in fact you were awake.

“I really wish I could find sooner the courage to tell you how beautiful you looked that day Chan introduced you to us. You smiled at me and I swear it felt like the sun smiled at me” he says and you snort at the last part, not being able to control yourself, as you never waited him to say something so cheesy.

As he hears the snort, he turns to look at you confused and he freaks out as he sees that you’re awake “I’m sorry, but that was super cheesy, I didn’t think you had in you” you say and in his panic state, he tries to say sorry for everything  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were okay – you probably don’t feel the same way as I do and that’s totally fine, we can keep being friends, you totally don’t have to feel b-“ he says and stops as he feels something soft on his lips.

“You fool, I feel exactly the same as you, I thought you would notice, I was painfully obvious, Seungmin kept teasing me for being awkward around you, same as Chan did” you say and smile at his astonished face, as he looked into your eyes, still not sure if what he’s hearing is right.

“Do you mean it? Do you really mean it?” he asks, wanting to make sure he’s hearing right. “Of course I do, I would never lie about my feelings” you say and he looks at yours eyes, the warm light from fireplace illuminating your face, and the fairy lights from the Christmas tree next to you making everything ten times more romantic and before he can stop himself, his lips are on yours, kissing you slowly, emotions all over the place, happiness evident on both you, with his hand securely holding your jaw.

You pull away, and he keeps looking at your face, taking in your features, while caressing your cheek affectionally, as if he afraid that you’ll fade away. “I didn’t think I’ll be able to do it, I felt such a coward but I’m really glad it turned out this way” he says, a small face on his face, and you smile at him.

“We’re such morons, we could be together since a long time ago, but we just kept focusing in our own feelings to even notice what the other felt” you and say and you both laugh at that. “I’m really glad that from now own you’ll be my partner, it feels like a dream” he smiles and takes you in his arms.

“Btw, did you really think I was asleep before?” you laugh and he pouts, “you know, you seemed asleep, I don’t know”. Well, to his defense Chan had mentioned before that if you feel comfortable enough, you might fall asleep in seconds, so how could you ask that?

“I want to thank you for something though” you say and he looks at you “What for?” he says, not really paying attention. “Well, for being my Christmas gift this year” you smile at him and he laughs, covering his face. “And you call me cheesy” he says pulls you to the ground.

Bonus: In the morning Minho and Chan walk down the stairs calmly, while holding a conversation about the schedule for that day. They both smile at the sight on the living room floor, you two sleeping peacefully in each other’s arms, the white blanket around your bodies, the fire in the fireplace long gone. Chan turns to Minho and says “Told you it would work”

a/n: big thanks to @curanonemu for helping me with the idea of the fic, and giving me inspiration, thanks bud. Also big thanks to @n8dlesoupguk & @cotccotc​ for keeping me sane while I was writing this, lol. Love you all 💖