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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

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5x12: Swap Meat

At a bar, a woman sits alone, enjoying her margarita, when one Sam Fucking Winchester wanders over and asks the barkeep ---NOT at all awkwardly--for a banana daiquiri. He’s either deep undercover or something is seriously hinky. There’s a lot of sugar in banana daiquiris, Sam. Crystal introduces herself and Sam introduces himself as Gary! She then propositions him, much to his cluelessness.

The poor dumb boy puts it together and “would love to have the sex with [her].” We then pan over to see Sam REALLY isn’t Sam at all.

Housatonic, Massachusetts

36 Hours Earlier

Sam and Dean visit Donna, an old babysitter --well, she was a maid at a motel they’d stay at while John went hunting. She looked out for them. It seems that her family house has a poltergeist problem. Bumps and broken items have led to the thing attacking their daughter, Katie.

Katie lifts her shirt to reveal “Murderd Chylde” carved into her abdomen. I'd get some serious vaseline on those wounds if you don’t want scarring, Katie. Yeesh. Sam and Dean tell the family to skedaddle while they take care of things.

They stop at a diner for food next. Dean picks up their order from the counter from Banana Daiquiri Gary! He’s not impressed with Sam’s salad shake, and neither is Dean (but when is he ever?)

They talk about Donna and how she’s got a good thing going. Dean asks Sam if he’d want to settle down at all and have a family, and Sam answers, “no.” Dean looks contemplative about it.

Sam finds lore on the house. A Samuel Pickett owned the house in the 1700s and hung a woman, Maggie Briggs, there for witchcraft. As the brothers talk, we watch Gary hyperfixate on Sam.

Sam goes to check out the town’s archives for where Maggie Briggs was buried. As he’s walking back to the motel, he hears a noise and then gets shot in the neck with a dart. Lights out, Sammy.

He comes to later, wearing Gary’s work uniform. He starts walking but the cops pick him up claiming his family is worried about him. “My brother called you?” Sam asks, incredulous.

No. The cops take him to a suburban house where a worried couple pops out and hugs Sam in relief. He asks who they are and in return they want to know if he’s drunk.

They keep calling him Gary. It’s then that Sam looks in the window of the cop car --and sees his reflection. He looks like Gary!

Meanwhile, Gary is checking out his hot new bod. Dean shows up and wonders where he’s been. Gary placates him with food. He also tells Dean that the maid saw all their weapons and they better get out of there. While Dean uses the restroom, Gary gets rid of all Dean’s phones.

THEN he has the NERVE to ask to drive. He doesn’t get far. And quite frankly, Dean’s spidey sense should be spiking through the ceiling at this point.

Sam keeps trying to reach his brother, with no luck. He calls the motel to learn that the two dudes in room 102 left in the middle of the night. So, Sam starts digging through Gary’s stuff and discovers items of witchcraft. Before he can dig too much further though, he’s called to the family breakfast.

His “dad” starts grilling him about getting drunk the night before. Sam’s got better things to worry about than placating some dude he doesn’t know. He also needs to learn more about Gary, so he starts interviewing the family about what they've noticed in him lately.

The dad wants to know if Sam’s “smoking drugs”. Sam then asks if they’ve ever seen him with a black book recently. His sister, Sydney, reacts to that question. The mom reacts to him eating toast --his allergy to wheat gluten!!

Sydney later reveals to Sam that there IS a book.

Gary and Dean are still working the case. Dean informs Gary that they have to search graves for Maggie’s body. Nerd of Nerd’s Gary knows exactly where Maggie Briggs is buried: Isiah Pickett’s basement. He also reveals that he murdered her and her unborn child before burying them in the basement. Dean connects the ‘murderd chylde’ clue.

Once in the car, Bob Seger starts blasting, and Gary tells Dean to turn it up.

Sam continues to leave messages for Dean. He ALSO has to navigate the tortures of high school again. Sam meets two of Gary’s friends and asks where his locker is (he’s still drunk, after all).

For This is a Look TM Science:

(And let’s pause for a moment to enjoy Sam’s striped hoodie. Definitely one of the top 5 wardrobe choices on this show.)

He finds the book in the back of Gary’s locker.

Gary and Dean find the grave in the basement of the Pickett house. Dean gets to digging while Gary aims his gun at Dean. Before he can shoot, the ghost comes out to play. It starts beating up the both of them but Gary’s able to burn the bones.

Gary’s extremely nosy friends follow Sam out of the school. While it looks like we’re gearing up for some good ol’ Ferris Bueller shenanigans, Trevor shoots Sam in the throat (GAH) with a sedative dart.

Meanwhile, at a bar, Dean orders a burger with extra bacon and a fried egg on top. Excuse me...I need to go eat an entire branchbouquet of kale in retaliation. Mysteriously, Sam orders the same thing. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Dean asks. But it’s just a lighthearted comment and they raise a toast to a successful hunt.

Gary’s over the moon overabout the day he just had. His joy makes Dean suspicious the way nothing else has. Oh, you sweet sad sunflowers. Gary lays out Sam Winchester’s happiness list: 1) gun 2) getting drunk 3) looks like Sam Winchester.

“You ever feel like your whole future is being decided for you?” Gary asks. OH YES, Dean tells him. I forget for a minute that I’m watching a season 5 episode as the Dean-Winchester-feels-trapped-in-the-narrative-sorrow threatens to overwhelm me. But there areis no time for FEELINGS when the narrative must go on! Cut to later in the night, when Gary gets picked up by the woman in the bar from the cold open. Dean puts his thinking face on while Gary ecstatically leaves the bar.

Back at Kid Kidnapperz clubhouse, Sam’s tied up. Trevor calls Gary and asks him if he’s killed Dean yet. “I’m working up to it,” Gary replies while sitting shirtless under a leopard print bedspread in the cougar’s lair. (Just...no on SO MANY LEVELS.) Sam listens to this with great alarm.

Sam demands to know how these rando teenagers know Dean. “Everybody knows Dean. He’s Hell’s most wanted,” Trevor retorts. Sam puts two and two together and comes up with a coupla dumb kids who took a deep dive into witchcraft and started talking to demons.

“You’re just kids,” Sam laments. Trevor and Nora fill in more blanks. They were messing around with a Moste Dark Booke of Witchcraftery, as one does, and suddenly Gary went into a trance and drew a fairly decent picture of Dean. Gary also heard a voice - it was setting a bounty on Dean’s head, and apparently broadcast through the witch trance network.

Gary heard a voice in his head - it was setting a bounty on Dean’s head, and apparently broadcast through the witch trance network. Nora now has second thoughts, so Trevor ups his stupidity game and starts to summon a demon.

That night, Gary creeps into the motel room and grabs Dean’s gun up from a nearby chair. He cocks the pistol. . He aims it at the shape under the covers...and Dean grabs him from behind and demands to know who he really is. (Silly Gary, Dean stopped sleeping under covers after he got back from Hell.)

Back in Trevor’s basement, he finishes the demon summoning. Nora looks up with black eyes.

She’s very interested to learn that they’ve got Dean Winchester in their sights. Trevor tells her where Dean is immediately. She absorbs this and swings her attention to Sam. She realizes it’s Sam “Boy King of Hell” Winchester sitting there and is suddenly VERY interested. Trevor asks her where his reward is, and when he pushes for it she first taunts, then kills him. (All the while Sam is in the background GRINDING HIS TEETH.)

Gary weeps, tied up in the motel room while Dean listens to voicemail after voicemail from Sam. Gary babbles about Sam’s whereabouts but it’s too late. Demon!Nora saunters in and lobs Dean across the room. Wherps. She offers Gary a powerful future but first he’s got to meet “the boss.” All he has to do is say “Yes” and they can have a nice chat together! Very sneaky! Dean attacks her while she’s cooking up her big plan and then Gary and Dean tag team an exorcism, freeing Nora of the demon. Later, Gary performs the incantation to swap bodies with Sam again. (I shake my head yet again that THIS is the ONLY body swap episode we got in the whole fifteen season run. What a goddamn waste of comedy potential.

With Sam restored to normal (or as normal as a Winchester can get), Dean confronts Gary. He tells him that if he were just a little older, he’d be dead right now. With those comforting parting words, they bring Gary and Nora back to their lives. Sam tells Gary to quit his whining about his life. It’s possible to rebel in a “healthy, non-satanic way.” Furthermore, he tells Gary that he wishes he had his life. Once the kids are out of earshot, Dean comments on Sam’s kind words. “Totally lied. Kid’s life sucked ass.” The apple-pie family crap is stressful, Sam decides.

Maybe they just don’t know what they’re missing, Dean rejoins, and I calmly tie an anvil around my ankle and drop it off a cliff into a dramatically large canyon.

They head out into the rainy night...to fight another day!

Doppelquöter:

You ever think that you'd want something like that? Wife, rugrats, the whole nine?

No matter how much you fight it, you can't stop the plan. The stupid, stupid plan

Um, I wouldn't exactly call praying to our dark overlord “goofing around”

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn 5x12 #swap meat #supernatural season 5

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likeshipsonthesea · 6 years

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can i make a klave request for 76? i love your work, btw!

from this list 76. “You’re so weird.” “You have no idea.” I modified it a little for soldier talk, hope you don’t mind. enjoy!

“I need two,” Klaus tells Fitz when he gets to the front of the chow line.

Fitz raises his eyebrows, unamused. “You know the rules, Hargreeves. One ration per soldier.” Klaus flutters his eyelashes, which makes Fitz snort but doesn’t soften the hard set to his jaw. Klaus sighs.

“Fitzy, baby, I’m gonna level with you. I need a second ration, and I’ll tell you why, I’ve done and got myself the shits. Real bad ones. Just, like, fuckin’ geyser shits, but I don’t need to tell you, I’m sure.” Klaus gives him a wink. “So you and I know both know that I gotta eat double to keep something in my body or who knows what could happen. What am I gonna do when I’m out there shitting my guts out and Charlie comes up outta no where to kill me? Now, I’m sure you don’t want me scrambling to get my pants up and gun out with the only the strength of a barren empty stomach to support me, now do you?”

Fitz blinks for a few moments before shaking his head with a sigh. “You’re are so fucking weird, Hargreeves,” he says, filling up a second plate.

Klaus grins, taking it. “You have no idea,” he says, turning and swinging his hips away.

Fitz chuckles. “Say hi to Katz for me.”

“If I had a free hand I’d flip you off!” Klaus yells over his shoulder but he doesn’t mean it. Fitz is of a good sort, as far as the platoon goes. Klaus doesn’t think he knows, but he doesn’t think Fitz would go out of his way to say anything if he did. That’s about the best they can hope for, out here.

“Hey baby,” Klaus purrs, pushing into the tent with the rations. Dave sits up from where he was napping, resting his ankle after hitting it funny on the trek here. “Got you some chow.”

“Aw, canned ham and crackers, my favorite.” Dave smiles, taking the plate. “You’re too good to me.”

“It’s only ‘cause you put out,” Klaus says around a mouthful of crackers and Dave shakes his head, still smiling.

They don’t talk much as they eat. It’s habit, even if they’re far from any enemy territory. Klaus munches on the stale crackers and thinks about Fitz, and the rest of the company along with it.

It’s weird to fight for the lives of people that might turn on him if they ever knew who he loved. Fitz is really an exception to the rule, and though it’s an open secret amongst the platoon that Klaus and Dave are close, implying anything beyond friendship is always meant as a jeer. Even Klaus, with his eyeliner and sashaying and calling everyone and their mother “baby,” still gets roped into the nights when they reminisce about girls back home. The guys still think– refuse not to think– that Klaus and Dave are straight as they shoot.

It makes Klaus think about back home. Not that the Academy was ever home. But he worked alongside his siblings and he still isn’t sure if all of them are okay with his inclinations. He assumes Allison must be, working in Hollywood and all, and Vanya is definitely repressing something under all those button-ups and undiagnosed neurosis.

He knows Ben doesn’t care, at least not more than he cares about not seeing what Klaus gets up to. “I don’t need to see this,” he’ll whine or, more lately, sigh, and drift off to wherever he goes when he isn’t haunting Klaus. He acts as if Klaus never gives a warning, like there isn’t build-up before the actual dicks come out. Though, to be fair, there’ve been many a drug deal that went down downtown, if you catch his drift, so possibly Ben had a point.

Klaus thinks Luther is too repressed to even know what a dick is and Diego might be the straightest person Klaus has ever met– come on, the knives are most definitely compensating for something only someone giving it would worry that much about. Neither of them screams “ally.”

There is Five, though. Klaus wonders. Anyone who hits a Diamond Anniversary with a damned piece of plastic is in no place to judge, but Klaus doesn’t know. He wonders what Five would think, though. Think of Dave.

A foot nudges Klaus’ knee and he looks up. Dave is smiling. He’s always smiling. Typically it would irritate Klaus, someone smiling all the time, but knowing what Dave goes through here, what he sacrifices just to be able to smile, it feels so much more than the empty victories Klaus is used to, in smiles.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Dave says, and Klaus is almost positive that the phrase is out of date, even for today’s date, but it’s so perfectly Dave, so sweet and genuine and– fuck, Klaus is so gone for him.

“Wondering what my family would think of you,” Klaus says, because he doesn’t know how to lie to Dave and doesn’t have any inclination to start. It’s weird, but in the good way. Like pedicures or wax figurines.

“Oh? And what seems to be the verdict?”

Klaus thinks about it. “Luther would be confused by you.” He glances at Dave’s body. “Intimidated, maybe. He doesn’t know what to do with people who aren’t more broken than him.” Dave frowns slightly, so Klaus adds a nice thing. “I think he’d make you laugh, and I think he’d like that.”

Smiling again. Score.

“Diego might pull the protective older brother thing because he likes that kind of stuff. He might threaten you with a knife, we don’t know.” Klaus shrugs and Dave shakes his head. “You’d be too earnest for it, though, and he’d give up and probably make you talk about sports. Ugh. Men things.”

“You’re a man,” Dave says, giggling a little the way he always does when Klaus is being ridiculous.

Klaus waves a hand. “Semantics. Moving on.” Dave chuckles and Klaus smothers his own smile by talking. “Allison would see how drop dead gorgeous you are and congratulate me on the spot.” Dave flushes but doesn’t comment. Klaus goes soft, looking at him. “She’d also like how kind you are, I think. She’s always liked that stuff. Vanya, too. She’d talk music with you I think. You’re both huge nerds for that.

“Ben would love you for much the same, he’s a huge nerd too.” Klaus curls his hand around Dave’s unhurt ankle. “He’d like how much you love me. And how much I love you.”

Dave presses his toes into Klaus hip, smile warm like the first rays of sun after days of rain. “My folks wouldn’t know what to do with you,” he says but it isn’t harsh. “I think they’d like you for how good you are for me. They always said I was too quiet and such, needed someone to balance me out.”

“Well I damn well tip the scales,” Klaus preens, fluttering his eyelashes at Dave, who laughs, again.

“Sometimes you’re almost too much to hold,” Dave says, so damn earnest and heart pounding and Klaus can’t help himself, daylight be damned, he leans in to press his mouth to Dave’s smile, and they keep at it, slow and too much, for minutes longer than they should, but Klaus doesn’t care one bit.

They settle into sleep a mere hour later, needing to be up bright and early to keep moving. It’s cold at nights, always is, so they huddle together for warm, Dave the little spoon because Klaus got to be it last time.

With his cheek pressed to Dave’s shoulderblade, Klaus thinks about Five, inexplicably. How would he react to Dave? Assuming he isn’t a bigot, assuming he cares at all, would he like Dave?

They had so little time together, but that’s not it because the rest of the house dispersed within years of Five’s disappearance. The only thing Klaus can base his other assumptions on is who his siblings became later. He never got to see that with Five.

He suddenly, achingly, wants to. He wants to see Five grow up, see who he is beyond the impending apocalypse. Is he funny? He was funny as a kid, Klaus remembers. The dry kind of wit. He’d say something and have Klaus in stitches while the rest of the group hadn’t caught on to the joke. He’d been a condescending asshole, yeah, but he shared some of his cooler facts with the rest of them.

Klaus remembers mentioning once, halfway into a panic attack or something, that he couldn’t tell if he was awake sometimes because the ghosts haunted his dreams. Within days, Five had read several books on the subject of nightmares and, offhandedly, unimportantly, dropped tips on telling the difference between dreams and reality when he was around Klaus. Klaus wouldn’t have known, but he’d been looking for his mask one day and found a whole stack of books, and Five shooed him out of his room yelling, but Klaus had known.

He’d found out Five’s biggest secret: he cared.

Klaus’ chest clenches thinking back to it. Five had spent decades trying to get back to them to fix the apocalypse. To save them. Klaus couldn’t figure out why, thinking on it, because they were all seven shades of fucked up, but maybe they weren’t, when Five left.

There’d been a time when they were as close to a family as Dad– Reginald had let them be. Sneaking out to play after dinner, sharing comics and inside jokes, fighting over the bathrooms and defending each other from the world. Five had left them a family and come back to find them fractured.

Klaus always thought they were strangers who grew up in a house together, but they hadn’t been strangers, really, until after they’d left. After they’d stopped trying. After there’d been something else to hold onto aside from each other.

Five never had that. Neither had Luther, come to think of it, and Ben only had it tangentially. None of them grew up, and the rest of them grew– wrong.

For a moment, clinging to Dave’s sleepless form and shivering despite the sleeping bags he’s cocooned in, Klaus wants desperately to go back. Go back to a time before they all gave up, before it got too hard. Grab on to each other instead of let go, help each other.

Maybe it’s being in the marines, having Dave and Fitz and all the other guys, but Klaus finally knows what being on a team can mean. What it can be.

“You okay?” Dave mumbles, mostly asleep. Klaus nods against his back. “Go to sleep, matok.”

Klaus squeezes closer. No use wondering over the past now– or the future, or whatever it is. Klaus is here, with Dave, and that’s what matters now. Klaus doesn’t have to wonder if Dave loves him or wants him or any of that. He knows the answer, and the comfort in that is worth more than anything his siblings could give him.

Klaus presses his lips against Dave’s shoulder and quickly falls asleep.

#klaus x dave #klave #klaus hargreeves #the umbrella academy #fic #the umbrella academy fic #my writing #sort of fic #ficlet #angst #fluff #all of the above #i love these two!!!#SEND IN MORE ASKS IF Y'ALL WANT #preferably other characters but klave is fine too #i am loving this!!#also i officially started my first real tua fic today #so that's exciting #telepathy anyone?

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pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles · 5 years

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Take A Bow (Girls Talk Boys Part 33)

I know it’s been ages since I updated this fic. I am really stuck on everything else I’m working on, and this was the only thing that clicked. I forgot how much I enjoyed these couples though, and I still have more to tell in this story.

if you’re new to this story you can find earlier chapters HERE

“Ashton,” Cher raised her eyebrows at the man grinning at her across her bedroom. “We're just going to the grocery store, why are you looking in the toy box?”

His only response was to turn back to digging through the box of their assorted sex toys. She could see the light bulb go on over his head,and he opened the drawer where the charging pad and the rechargeable toys were. He winked at her and tossed a necklace her way. Cher caught it and her eyes went wide when she realized it was her collar.

It was a simple black leather choker with a round charm with a paw print on one side, the other just said Kitten. Ashton bought it for her about a month ago and it quickly became a signal he was asserting his dominance.

“This is a bit much for a shopping trip,” Cher rolled her eyes trying to hide her excitement

“Did you just talk back to me?” He narrowed his hazel eyes at her as he walked across the room towards her.

“No daddy,” she pouted, “ just surprised me.”

"I've got the bags in the car, is there anything else you need from the store," Cher asked Camille as she grabbed her keys.

Camille was on the couch tangled up with Calum watching a documentary about volcanoes. She glanced up at her roommate raising her eyebrows when she spotted the collar. In the past few months Ashton had been "caught out" in public with Cher a few times, but the past couple weeks he'd made a point to be spotted with her. Camille knew they both denied their relationship was anything past exclusive friends with benefits, however Camille wondered what Ashton was up to with this public show of affection.

Calum laughed as the door closed behind them, "No telling when those two will get back, if they don't get thrown out for fucking in the produce section."

"Oh God I did not need that visual," Camille shook her head trying to clear it like an Etch a Sketch which made Calum laugh even harder.

In contrast to Ashton's situation, Calum was very much happily committed to Camille. He'd taken counseling sessions to get past his jealousy issues, recognizing that his insecurities were at the root of his behavior. Camille was supportive but let it be known that she wasn't responsible for "fixing" him. Calum wanted to work on his communication issues, and she'd helped him open up and get out of his own head.

Camille finally found the security and strength with Calum to fight her own insecurities. Calum was deeply private and rarely posted on social media. For that Camille was grateful as she didn't think she'd be well received by his fans. Camille was known to be a friend of the band. Publicly she'd been seen with Luke on a couple occasions and at parties with the guys. There had been rumors about Luke which they all found hilarious, but that had simmered down once Luke got a girlfriend.

Camille sighed and Calum tensed up, "what's on your mind darling?"

"Sorry babe, was thinking about making cupcakes for Luke and going to see him tomorrow," Camille rested her head on Calum's chest turning her attention back to the screen.

"Mmmm I'm sure he'd like to see you," Calum murmured not really wanting to agree or disagree. Luke's recent breakup with Summer had been a disaster, with Calum right in the middle. It was a touchy subject with Camille, but Calum didn't want to argue. "You'd just better text them to remind them before they get too distracted."

Cher stopped to read the text from Camille when she felt Ashton come up behind her, his hands on her waist, his body pressing into hers.

"We're in public," she whispered trying to wiggle away.

"So what?" he smirked reaching in his pocket.

Cher gasped as he clicked a button on a remote and the bullet vibrator he'd demanded she wear came buzzing to life.

"Ashton I swear if you make me squirt in this store I will kill you," Cher hissed trying not to moan.

"Say that properly this time," he dug his fingers hard into her hip.

"Please Daddy, I don't wanna make a mess," her voice was low and breathy and Ashton realized he was as turned on as she was.

He clicked off the remote until they got a few aisles over and she was standing next to a couple of ladies perusing the different kinds of pasta sauce.

Click

The two ladies glanced at Cher as she made a weird noise. She grimaced and said "sorry, back spasms."

They nodded and the older lady launched off into a lecture about home remedies and why Western medicine was a scam.

Ashton let her get so close before turning it off again.

When the ladies walked away Cher glared at him before throwing him a wink and walking away.

Ashton cursed under his breath, suddenly finding his pants far too tight.

Cher made sure to get everything on Camille's list and cat stuff despite Ashton's constant distractions. Soon they were headed home Ashton was driving with one hand on the wheel, and the other steadily creeping up her thigh. Cher was playing on her phone pretending to ignore him. He switched on the vibe, first on low wanting to see her react. When she didn't he increased the speed until she was squirming in her seat.

"Please, don't wanna cum yet," she whined earning her a smack on the thigh.

"Cross your legs and not another word," he commanded. She whimpered but she obeyed him and he continued driving. Little moans were escaping the back of her throat and her hips kept bucking despite her trying to keep control.

Ashton pulled over into a parking lot and grabbed a towel from the backseat.

"Pull your dress all the way up to your waist," he told her as he opened her legs.

His fingers were on her heat and combined with the vibe humming furiously her g spot she quickly felt herself toppling over the edge of bliss.

Ashton held the towel up as she gushed for him, her nails digging into his arm as she held herself back from screaming his name.

After Cher gave him a quick blowjob Ashton headed home. Calum and Camille were still on the couch discussing fault lines as Camille explained subduction zones. Cher loved the way Calum watched Camille when she got into what she called her "nerd self." He always seemed interested in whatever history or science topic she was currently into. It helped that Camille could make almost any subject entertaining. Cher almost tripped over the cat carrying groceries to the kitchen. She left out the cake ingredients so that Camille could work on a care package for Luke. Poor Luke, she thought, why does shit like that have to happen to such a nice guy.

Calum perched himself on the edge of the counter watching her cook. She was making red beans and rice with ham for dinner, but before that she had to prepare cold food for tomorrow's lunch. She made potato salad before starting on the chicken and egg salad. Camille hated egg salad but Calum loved it so she made it just for him. She made red velvet cupcakes going out for a smoke and a glass of wine while they were in the oven. Calum pulled her onto his lap stealing the joint from her and taking a puff. He pressed it back to her lips, she took a deep drag making her cough. He felt himself stiffen up as she jiggled against him. His lips found her neck and she melted into him.

They were rudely interrupted by a phone call from Michael to Calum. Luke was crashing with him and Crystal tonight, and being surrounded by three dogs at once had finally cheered Luke up a bit. Michael told Calum that he should come by with Camille the next day. Luke needed to see him, and maybe they could all get past this. Calum knew Luke didn't blame him, but with the hurt and the anger he just needed space away from his friend.

Cher had gone over to Ashton's after dinner wanting to finish what they'd started earlier and not have to be quiet. Camille was trying to find something to watch but Calum wouldn't keep his hands to himself. The commotion woke Duke up and Calum found himself cockblocked by his own dog.

Later that night after they were completely alone Calum was between her legs with her thick thighs slung over his shoulders. He was playing his favorite game "guess what I'm spelling" as he traced letters with his tongue on and through her wetness. After he wrote "I love you" on her skin Camille moaned "I love you too, baby." Calum responded by sliding two fingers inside of her. By the time Camille regained any clear thought she couldn't feel her legs and Calum had gone outside for a cigarette.

Cher saw the orange glow in the darkness before she actually saw Calum. She hadn't really needed to come outside to smoke, Ashton was dead to the world and he didn't mind the smell. She just needed to get out of his space for a minute. She knew going home in the middle of the night would raise too many questions, but she also knew she wouldn't be getting any sleep anyways. Normally Ashton left her satisfied and sleepy, but that was before she found the little box with a diamond ring tucked away in a drawer.

Camille arrived at Luke's door with a basket of sandwiches and goodies with Calum a couple steps behind her. Luke answered, looking tired and sad, but better than he had a week ago. He hugged Camille the way he always did, having to bend down to wrap himself completely around her. Calum was her love, but Luke was her best friend out of the guys, her little peanut.

Three weeks ago the guys had flown to New York City for a quick promo tour. The guys schedule was so insane that most of the girlfriends had stayed home, with Summer and Luke the only couple on the trip. Her boss was a photographer the band was working with for a magazine cover. Nobody questioned it as Summer tagged along on most trips, camera in hand. This trip started off well, but on the second day the two of them were sniping at each other. Luke's relationship had always been up and down, but their relationship had seemed solid until the final night before they were to return to California.

They'd gone out drinking at a karaoke bar. The beginning of the night everyone was cheerful and laughing, but soon things got messy. Summer caught Calum texting on his phone and snatched it away from him. She started playing on his phone dancing away from him when he tried to get it back. Luke was kind of laughing along until she tucked it into her bra and told Calum to "come and get it."

Things got even more awkward when Calum refused and sat there clearly annoyed. Luke got up and tried to get the phone back but she refused. Whining at him "I want Calum to get it," she dodged his hands, pouting the whole time. "Want Calum," she repeated and Luke and Calum both turned red. Summer tried to tuck the phone into her jeans, but she was clumsy drunk and almost dropped it. This allowed Michael to grab it and toss it to Calum. Summer burst into tears and she ran out, with Luke following close behind.

That gave the night a weird vibe, but none of them were in any hurry to return to the hotel. They hung out for a bit, some fans stopped by and chatted for a while. By the time they wandered down to an all night pizza place they all had a decent buzz going and the mood had picked up. They began sending cheesy pick up lines and thirst trap pics to their girls. Calum getting a bit of attention from some girls when he removed his jacket to flex his biceps for Camille while Ashton filmed.

When they got back they heard shouting from Luke's room. Ashton went to check on them, while the other two went to bed. Calum stripped down to his skivvies and crawled into bed hoping the room wouldn't spin. Calum didn't know how long he'd been out when he heard knocking, actually.. banging, on his hotel room door. He threw on a shirt and cracked the door to find Summer standing there in tears.

Calum tried to be kind and invited her in, fumbling for his phone to text Ashton or Luke, he wasn't sure which. Next thing he knew Summer had thrown herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him anywhere her lips could find. Stunned Calum tried to back away, that turned out to be a mistake as the bed hit the back of his knees and he fell back. They both tumbled backwards with her on top of him. Now she was tugging at his shirt and his waistband talking a mile a minute, "I feel horrible but I told Luke I wasn't in love with him. That I wanted someone else. I've been in love with you, Calum, for ages now. I love you so much, you just don't understand," Calum pushed her off of him and jumped off the bed.

"Wait, Calum, baby, pretty please," she was desperate and grabbed his hand. "I need you, I can treat you better. I'm not boring and I'm better looking."

"Enough," Calum shouted, startling her into silence. "This is not happening. You need to leave." He texted Ashton, afraid to talk to Luke at that moment. Calum had no idea what kind of nonsense she'd said to Luke,or how bad this was going to be.

He headed for the door when Summer ran in front of him, "please just stay with me tonight. You can have me any way you want. I'll do anything you ask, just please don't go." Calum was not impressed by this offer.

There was a knock and Calum had to find a way to open it without physically shoving her aside. He found Michael, their manager and the hotel concierge standing in the hallway.

The concierge wrapped his arm around Summer's shoulders leading her away with a gentle manner and absolute authority. Their manager told them he'd see she got another room for the night and a different flight home.

After they left Mikey informed Calum that Ashton was with Luke, who was completely devastated and quite drunk. Summer had broken up with Luke and while they were fighting confessed that she'd been in love with Calum the whole time. The flight home was awkward, everyone was tired and on edge. Calum was relieved that Camille had taken everything so well. Not that she wasn't furious and ready to "slap the shit out of that green eyed demon whore," but she wasn't mad at him.

Luke was a different story. He wasn't angry, but kept his distance from Cal. He told Camille it hurt to think of being with her and the whole time she was into Calum. Camille set up a little picnic on Luke's living room floor , settling in between the two guys. Petunia sprawled out next to Luke, Miss P hadn't left his side since he got home. Camille kept the conversation flowing, asking them questions about the new music they were recording, and the trip Luke and Ashton were taking back to Australia for a couple weeks. The guys started to relax and chat a bit.

Luke stopped, sighed and began, "Listen, Cal….I need to apologise."

Calum cut him off, "Mate there's no need for that, I get it."

Luke nodded and pushed his plate away, but Camille noticed he'd eaten two sandwiches and a cupcake. That was progress.

"It's weird how once the bubble pops you see all the warning signs, and little shit you overlooked before because you wanted to make it work," Luke mused.

"I personally found her tiresome and I think her work is overrated," Camille rolled her eyes.

Her phone rang and Camille snatched it up thinking it must be work, everyone else texts.

She frowned when she saw it was the security desk at the front gate.

"Sorry to bother you Miss Camille," she recognized Dale the security guards voice. "We have a man here insisting on being let in," he paused his voice muffled as he spoke to the person he was calling about. "Claims he has legal documents for Miss Cher."

Camille shivered as a chill swept over her, "what's his name?"

Muffled voices and Camille heard "Barett," and she interrupted "Dale, did you say Benjamin Barett?"

"Yes ma'am," he replied.

"I'm on my way right now," Camille hit end and leapt up startling both guys and dogs.

Calum scrambled to his feet, "What's going on? Who's here? I'm coming with you."

Camille shook her head,"you can't, he's gonna be an asshole to me and I don't need you cracking his jaw."

"WHO?" both Luke and Calum all but shouted question at her.

"Cher's husband, he's tracked her down," Camille answered.

@wildhearthood @babygirlcashton @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @vfdsstuff @unabashedlymyself @5sos-ficssmut @rosettesofhappiness

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 6 years

Text

ONCE UPON A TIME (Destiel Soulmates AU)

Once Upon A Time, there was a Universe where a soulmate developed a streak of hair, the color of the hair of their soulmate, at the age of eighteen. And, once, in such a Universe;

***

John Winchester begun the search for his older son, right after he'd got Sam settled in the car peacefully, with a bunch of crayons. He searched for the eight year old in all the places he could think of - the hotel room, the terrace, and the garden. John figured that Dean must have disappeared when he'd been in the middle of quieting Sam down from his childish tantrum about not wanting to leave Colorado since 'Sully wouldn't know where to find me later!' - but where he was now was something even the hunter couldn't figure.

He wondered, for a passing moment, if Dean might have went off to his new friend's place. He was getting too attached to the 'Cas' kid, who lived near Radio Shack, with too big and nosy a family for their good. He scoffed; he'd have to make sure hunts lasted less, now. Didn't exactly fancy the idea of his son buddy-ing up a weirdo, in every town.

***

"You can't really be going away, Dean." Castiel looked Dean up and down, and declared, with a crease forming in the middle of his eyebrows as Dean rolled his eyes at him.

His pre-pubescent voice was thin, but didn't hide the annoyance the boy felt. "Stop saying that, Cas! I am - I really am!"

"But, you can't be!" Castiel's smile drooped. "Dean, you only just came!"

"I know. But that's how it always is." Dean relaxed slightly, because Castiel finally at least agreed to believe him. But his shoulders still stiff, because he wished what he was saying was false, himself. "I think we're going to Sioux Falls."

"I don't know where that is."

"You do! It's where Bobby lives." Dean frowned, exasperatedly. "I told you about Bobby, Cas!"

Castiel seemed to be considering this. "You did. But, Dean, when will you be back?"

"I don't know if I'll ever be back."

"What do you mean?" Castiel scowled. "How can you never be back? 'Here's where I am!"

"I know." Dean nodded, looking down at his feet. "That's why I came to say goodbye."

"But, you can't be going!" Castiel repeated, firmer this time, and stepped closer to Dean. "Dean, you're my friend! You can't leave! It's not allowed."

"By what?"

"The laws of friendship." Castiel declared, crossing his arms against his chest. "I bet it's in Miss Kline's Big Book on Friends which she was going to finish reading to us, this Saturday. Dean, will you be back in school, at least?"

Dean shook his head. "I won't be back in Colorado, Cas! Obviously, I won't be back in school!"

Castiel sighed. "But, I-" He stopped, in the middle of the sentence, to walk away from Dean, frustration getting the better of him. He turned his back to Dean. "Just go, Dean. Okay?"

"Are you mad at me, Cas?"

No response - because Castiel was a stubborn kid.

"Are you not talking to me, Cas?" Dean's voice broke. "Cas?"

"If I wasn't talking to you; how'd you come to know?" Castiel turned, and glared at Dean. "We'll not talk, anyways! You're going, aren't you?"

"Cas, don't be mad at me!" Dean yelled out, clenching his fists. "I didn't decide to go!"

"But you won't be coming back," Castiel muttered, as though that explained everything. "You won't be coming back, Dean."

"I'll want to." He promised, holding Castiel by his shoulders. "'M promising you."

"Dean, do you want to go?"

Dean blinked. "What?"

"Do you want to go?"

"Cas - he won't listen to me," Dean muttered, letting go of Castiel. "I know that he won't, Cas. I have to go with him. Dad's waiting for me. I need to go now, Cas."

Castiel seemed to be taking a step closer, and placing his palm on Dean's forearm, when the rough voice of an adult cut him off. It was John Winchester, stepping into the scene with a disapproving look on his face - "Dean! What on Earth have you been doing?"

"I just - Dad, I just-"

"Come with me!" He barked, and Dean followed, mutely. He turned once, when he was sure that John was focused elsewhere, and found Cas staring at him dumbly, and waving his hand. He seemed to be mouthing 'bye', as simple as that. He waved back with the hand which John wasn't holding, frightful of letting John know of the tears in his eyes.

And for the first time in his life, when John was all ready to start the drive to Sioux Falls, South Dakota and close the chapter of Colorado forever, Dean, timidly buckled up in the front seat, mumbled, "I don't want to go, Dad."

Either John didn't hear him, or pretended not to.

***

SIX YEARS LATER

"Dean, listen." John instructed, as he opened the trunk for their bags. "You go check the room I booked -"

"The farthest corner one on the Ground Floor, got it."

"- And then take Sam to the room, and watch cartoons or something, okay?" He instructed. "Then, make whatever he likes with whatever's left of the stuff in my backpack. I think there's stuff for at least four grilled cheeses, okay?"

Dean thought of all that he could reply to that. 'Sam doesn't watch cartoons anymore, he's freaking ten - he watches Discovery Education now because he knows it pisses you off'. Or, 'Sam grew out of his Grilled Cheese obsession a year back - he's into PB&Js now'. But, he sufficed with a, "Yes, sir."

"I'll be back, latest by ten, from the morgue," he added, before getting into the driver's seat, and leaving Dean standing in the parking lot of the hotel, with two bags too big for most fourteen-year-olds, and a little brother who thinks it's very clever to make faces at the driving-away Impala.

"C'mon, Dean." Sam had his own luggage hoisted on his back.

Dean watched, until the car went away into the distance. "Yeah, about that," he muttered distractedly, picking up both the bags. "I'm going to be going away for a bit."

"Awesome," was Sam's first response - because he was freaking Sam. Then, "Where to?"

"Uh, not important. So, look, I'm going to get you settled with your books and food in the room, and then I'm going to ask the receptionist to-"

"I don't need to be babysit-ed, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes, with the infamous bitchface he was sporting almost always, now. "You and Dad keep forgetting I'm ten."

"You keep forgetting you're ten." Dean muttered back, because it got Sam to glare at his back as he unlocked the door, and threw the two bags on the larger bed. "Here."

"I'm not hungry," Sam whined, because Dean was fishing out a Lays he'd saved. "You can go now, Dean! I'll be fine."

"You sure?" Dean turned and handed Sam the packet, with a hesitant frown. "Just call me on this number if anything happens, okay? Anything, at all."

"Just go!"

"Anything," Dean emphasized.

"Hey, Dean," Sam called, as Dean was almost out the door. He rushed back in, with raised eyebrows. "Are we not telling Dad about this?"

Dean paused. "Uh, actually," he felt bad about lying to John. "The thing's that - not exactly, but-"

"So, no?"

"Yeah. No." Dean gave in.

"Awesome," Sam declared, already beginning to unpack his books. What a nerd. "See you."

"Take care of yourself," Dean muttered, as he got out of the hotel, with a fast smile at the receptionist. Once out the door, he relied completely on memory - but it didn't betray him - and he almost begun to run as he retraced his footsteps from the last time he'd been in Colorado. He felt the air beat against him, and enjoyed the tingly feeling associated with running back to the past, in some sense. He was soon outside the very familiar door, and he knocked, waiting with bated breath for someone to open the door.

He didn't recognize the face who did. "Uh," he flailed, before a quick smirk from the tall and lanky blond, stabilized him.

"Who're you looking for?"

"Uh," Dean felt a pang of guilt rush through him. "Cas?"

"Are you sure?" The older boy teased.

"Yeah," Dean squinted. "I'm sure. Does - does Cas live here? Castiel?" He added.

"Oh, of course he does," The boy rolled his eyes. "Why would that goody-two-shoes get thrown out?" Dean frowned. "Wait," the boy took a step in, and yelled. "Castiel! Castiel, there's someone here for you!"

A muffled response seemed to come, which Dean couldn't decipher. "Call him here," he urged. He didn't have much time. But he had to see Cas.

"He's asking who you are."

Dean huffed, in exasperation. He was totally going to ruin the element of surprise! Telling Cas that it was him would totally destroy the entire moment which Dean had been relaying in his head ever since John said they'd be going to Colorado. "I can't tell."

"You forgot?" The boy snickered.

Dean felt his breathing quicken. "Just tell him to come down, wouldja!?" He fiercely growled. "I need to talk to him - and no, I can't tell you my name!"

The boy rolled his eyes. "You're weird. Exactly the type who'd be friends with my brother. Wait here," he instructed, before going up the stairs.

Dean pushed thoughts of Castiel's rude older brother from his head, and waited for Cas to come down. He was in for such a shocker. He couldn't even imagine how he'd react to Dean standing in his doorway after six years of silence - but he just knew that he'd been waiting for this moment since years, and he hoped Cas did too.

The first he caught sight of Cas' jeans, as he came down the stairs. Then, his grey hoodie, and finally, his face. He'd grown a lot - probably as tall as him, if not more - and had filled out his skinny frame, to look more athletic. Maybe he played a sport - Dean had no idea about what kind of teenager Cas was. His raven hair was still messy, sticking out in every direction as if he'd been turning cartwheels - and his face had squared up a bit, and was even more - dreamy, than Dean had imagined. But his eyes - they were as blue as the clear sky, and every bit like the friend he remembered so clearly. Cas, sincerely.

"Cas," escaped his lips, as the latter stood gawking at the base of the stairs, his eyes wide, and his face an art of disbelief. "Cas!" He almost yelled, desire itching through him to hug him.

He didn't have to hold back, for long.

"Dean." He seemed to gasp, almost like a revered whisper, before he sprung forward towards him - sprinting across the four feet of hardwood floor, and engulfed Dean in a hug. The feelings which had gotten associated with 'Cas' in his absence, seemed to envelope Dean, even as he inhaled the familiar scent of his honey shampoo, and a new addition of what seemed to be old books, for some reason. His hands were firm around him, unrelenting, and Dean hugged back with equal enthusiasm, seeking comfort in the arms of his old friend. When Cas pulled back, he was still staring at Dean like he couldn't believe it - Dean had no idea, he was doing the same thing - and then he finally spoke, again.

"You're fourteen." He again, seemed to be awestruck.

"I'm not the only one." Dean bit his lip, running a hand through his hair.

"You look so - you're so-" He fumbled with words, and Dean could feel an inadvertant blush creeping up his cheeks. "You look like your Dad." He settled on, his voice so much hoarser than what it'd been, and Dean realized that Cas had unknowingly been fingering the lapel of Dean's leather jacket.

"You smell like a library." Dean declared, in retaliation.

"You're," Cas smiled, and the eye-crinkling was definitely new. And, admirable. "You're taller than me."

"You sound much older than I do," Dean shrugged, not exactly knowing what they were supposed to be talking about, but enjoying the random confusion explicitly.

Castiel inhaled deeply, and grabbed Dean's wrist, before dragging him out the door, and into the middle of the vacant road. He stared into Dean's eyes, with intent, until finally, he'd said so much with his eyes that the lingering silence was tasteful and heavy. Castiel, in that moment, was everything Dean had remembered him so many years for - his blue eyes so fascinating, and the entirety of him so perfect. Dean didn't know how, when, or why - but he hadn't felt this way towards anyone, ever. Almost, like a driving force to be near him. And now that he was - it was every bit as magical as Dean had imagined it'd be.

He forgot of the last wendigo they'd hunted, or of how furious John would be if this reached his ears, and forgot of the entire World, but their last conversation.

Castiel seemed to speak for the both of them, when his voice gently pierced the reverie.

"You're back, Dean!"

He sounded exhilarated, and happy, and there was nothing else Dean could've wished for.

"You wanted me to be, didn't you?" He tried to appear nonchalant, but stray tears had made it into his eyes. "Didn't you, Cas?"

"I never wanted you to leave."

"He wouldn't have listened to me," Dean whispered, and Castiel shushed him then, because apparently he could. Dean didn't glare at him, or anything.

"How long will you stay?" Castiel worded it carefully, as though he were architecturing a foolproof heist. "Tell me, Dean. Give me a number."

"Why?"

"Don't you see? We have six years' worth of catching up to do."

***

SIX YEARS LATER

"Castiel, are you even listening to what I'm saying?" Ruby crossed her arms against her chest, frowning directly at him.

"Of course," Castiel muttered back, continuing to examine the mirror - his own reflection. He ran a hand through his hair, unable to conceal a smile.

"Oh, stop it!" She swore under her breath, and Castiel didn't even bother to glare at her anymore, because he couldn't do a thing about the stubborn Chemistry Major, who was presently mad at him. "Stop looking at your streak like it's some goddamn treasure!"

"Ruby," Castiel turned, quietly. "Can't a guy groom his hair before University, without his roommate's girlfriend unlatching Hell about it?"

"Well, you can," She smirked, instantly. "If you'd just tell me who you're thinking of."

"I'm not thinking of anyone," Castiel smiled, before getting himself off the couch and towards his study-table; beginning to arrange them in at least a presentable fashion.

"You are." She argued, crossly. "And you're going to tell me who the lucky guy is."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Puh-lease!" She scoffed. "You know who the blond streak in your hair is meant for, but you're not telling me - and I swear to Christ, I'm going to keep badgering you about it till you tell me!"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I live vicariously through you, idiot!"

"The entirety of your existence is far more vicarious than mine, Ruby." Castiel informed her, before slinging his bag over one shoulder. "Now, if you'll stop interrogating me, I'm going to leave for my first lecture."

"It's not for another half-hour, nerd!"

"I'm going to have breakfast with Zeke, in the campus cafeteria." He pointedly glared at the shower door, where his roommate Alistair was currently taking his nice, long time at. "Because someone couldn't shower quick enough to make breakfast later."

"You should learn," Ruby shrugged, unsympathetically.

"You think I haven't tried?" Castiel shrugged, before leaving his flat. He and Balthazar had been roommates for almost a year, now. Balthazar was basically Cas' closest friend, but he was a Architecture Major, so his classes were at different times than him. Ruby, his girlfriend often spent the night over - but the morning-afters were dreadful for Castiel. She could be nosy, and aggravating, and purposefully annoying; but she was after all his friend's girlfriend, so Castiel put up with her quite regularly.

He reached the cafeteria soon enough, and found Zeke sitting in their usual spot. He took up the place next to him, as the latter looked up from his book and breathed out a smile. "Hey!"

"Hey," Castiel begun to inspect the million-times-read menu, as he did every morning. "Did you order already?"

"No, just reached." He replied, with a bit of a shy look. "I was almost late this morning. Bit of a sleepless night."

"Oh, are you experiencing acute insomnia again?"

"No," He nearly reddened. "I was with Sarah." He almost instinctively, tucked the only tuft of red hair in his entire head of brown, behind his ear.

"Of course," Castiel bit his lip, smiling again. Sarah and Zeke had gotten each other's colors, for their streaks at their eighteenth. Their story was quite sweet - high-school sweethearts who on realizing they're soulmates, swore never to break up - even though she was in Spain. "What was I thinking?"

"Shut it, Castiel." Zeke tried to frown, but ended up looking comical. The waitress landed up at their table. "His Majesty pays for us both today," he informed Meg with a snicker, who turned towards him.

"Hey!" Castiel protested, light-heartedly. "You seem to have forgotten that you owe me a breakfast."

"I don't." Zeke rolled his eyes. "I didn't lose the bet."

"Zeke, the patient had a stomach ulcer." Castiel facepalmed. He could be really childish. "Not every patient we come against has to have a big-worded ailment. Gastro-esophageal reflux disease may sound more fancy for your blog - but he had an ulcer."

Castiel was a pre-med student. So was Zeke.

"You suck," Zeke gave up. "I'm not talking to you."

"Really mature, geek." Meg scoffed at him, before turning to Castiel. "What can I get the both of you, Clarence?"

"Castiel." He corrected, absentmindedly. "And, I'd like a hamburger, and he'd like a green salad."

"With a dressing of?"

"Vegetables, please." Castiel smirked back.

"With pleasure," She laughed at Zeke, who was looking at Castiel with complete betrayal etched on his features.

"You-"

"You're not speaking to me." Castiel cut him off, because he can be childish too, and continues to check his phone for any updates on the Schedule of postings.

Their foods arrive, and soon they're both tucking in. Zeke actually seems to enjoy the salad, particularly since Meg caught Castiel's eye, and added meatballs in it - and the hamburger is heaven incarnate, as usual. Suddenly,

"Hey Castiel, by the way, who's Dean?"

Castiel blanched, and completely forgot to remind his friend that he wasn't supposed to be acknowledging his existence. "What!?"

"Dean?" He spoke, more uncertainly. "Winchester, I think? D'you know any such guy?"

Castiel put down his hamburger, and stared at Zeke, with intent. "Zeke, why are you asking? How do you know Dean?"

"Uh, he kinda called me." Zeke sounds surer now.

"What for?" Castiel demanded, his impatience getting the better of him. The last time he spoke to Dean was a few weeks before his eighteenth birthday, when Dean had drove over to visit for a day. It had probably been the best evening of his life. He'd been waiting to hear from him thence - especially after the streak. "Tell me why he called you!"

"Simmer down," Zeke raised his hands in defense. "It's nothing big. Said he got my number from your sister. Asked about you, a bit. An-"

"Asked what?"

"Geez, who is this guy?" Zeke's eyes widened. "Who's got you so cranked up!?"

"I'm not cranked up." Castiel leveled his breathing. Dean called. Dean called! "I'm normal. And what? What else? Why did he call you?"

"To ask for your address."

Castiel froze. Dean called his friend to get his address.

Which meant -

"He's coming!"

"So's winter. Big deal." Zeke shrugged, and Castiel glared at him till he'd gotten rid of all of the casualness. "Look, he texted me in the morning today. To confirm timings. Yeah, he's coming."

"Why didn't he call me!?"

"He-" Zeke suddenly appeared like defeated. "I just remembered. He said he wanted it to be a surprise."

"Shit." Castiel muttered under his breath, because Dean Winchester was coming - and Cas had a streak of lustful blonde hair, since he was probably his soulmate, and Dean wanted to surprise him at his room, and Castiel could only picture himself vacuuming or doing the dishes or something in the kitchen, when Dean knocks, and he stands outside their door looking gorgeous as ever, and Cas opens the door, and he sees Dean, and it's the best surprise he's ever received. "Holy shit." He speaks louder, because it also suddenly strikes him that now he knows, and for once, he can be the one with the wonderful surprise - he could prepare a dinner, and clean up the apartment, and maybe get some roses, and perhaps arrange it so that Dean's favorite band plays when he enters, and he could wear the jacket Dean told him he looked the best in, and he could get Dean a freaking gift, and he could-

"Did you just swear?"

"'Shit' is not a profanity."

"Oh, I think it is!" Zeke whistled, looking belated. "You, my friend, just swore! You're buying me dinner for a month, now!"

Castiel fixed him with his most angry glare. Zeke appeared satisfactorily taken aback, and scared, when he growled at him, "Shut up, and tell me when he's coming, you assbutt."

"You did it agai-"

"Tell me when Dean Winchester plans to be here, Ezekiel, or I swear I will-"

"Okay, okay," He mock-begged. "Don't smite me!"

Castiel smiled, and not because his friend was a weird dork. But because, he was fucking elated. Dean was coming. And this time, Castiel would surprise him. It would be wonderful. And Castiel had a streak of blonde, and Dean would have a streak of his black, and it'd be a happy ending.

He smiled the widest he could manage, without hurting himself.

***

Everything was ready. Everything in place. According to Zeke, Dean was supposed to be at Castiel's doorstep in a minute.

Castiel ran his hand through his hair, enjoying the still surprising of the soft blonde hair in the middle of his raven black mess. It was slightly to the right, and not very striking anymore, but Castiel thought it was beautiful. It was probably the most beautiful thing that Castiel had ever worn - Dean's mark on him. He was so sure that his mark meant Dean - he felt for Dean like he'd never felt for any other, and it represented Dean so beautifully - gloriously golden, and almost shiny. It looked like one of the hair-arts people got done. Highlights. Only, a million times more wonderful, because it'd just happened. It was meant to be.

Dean would knock in three, two, one.

A couple more minutes passed - Castiel didn't mind, because no one kept their schedule to the last second - before there was finally the sound of shuffling feet outside the door. Castiel took in a deep breath, and straightened his own trenchcoat and closed his eyes for a moment to steady himself, for he felt almost giddy.

The knock came, twice.

Then once, again.

Castiel had to struggle to not collapse into an excited mess on the floor. He finally paced towards the door, and rushed it open, prepared.

And, Dean was there.

He looked surprised, but he suddenly smiled - and it was so breathtaking, that Castiel forgot himself in that moment. He was lost, in those mesmerizing forest green eyes, and held his gaze till he could see Dean's eyes grow foggy. His eyes did a quick tour of the hunter's body - he'd grown even taller, and he still sported the leather jacket, though it actually fit him now - and he looked so good. And then Castiel's face traced the lines of art upwards, and finally,

"Oh!" He stepped back, his jaw dropped. Dean made a stabilizing gesture with an instant look of surprise and worry, but Castiel drew back even more. "Oh, no!" He almost gasped.

Dean was confused, and he stepped in, and reached out for him. He whipped back his hand.

"Cas-"

"Dean-"

They spoke at the same time.

"Cas, what's the matter?" Dean tried, sounding terrified, and making another unsuccessful attempt to touch Castiel's arm. "Cas, I'm here! This is all so beautiful, and it's so great to see you - why are you stepping back!? - and you look so great, and did you know about me coming? Cau-"

Castiel continued to dumbfoundedly stare at Dean's light blonde hair.

In vain.

"Fuck." Castiel could feel his dreams shattering.

"Hey, hey," Dean sounded weary, and almost scared. "Hey, what's the matter? Wha-"

Castiel hadn't even thought that this could happen.

How had he not thought this could happen?

"It's not-" Castiel wanted to say a lot of things. It's not black. It's not you. But something else escaped his lips. "It's not me. It's not ME!"

"What's not y-"

But Castiel had strode past him, and out of his apartment. He couldn't stay in there anymore. He knew he should. He kind of wanted to. BUT he needed to get out of there. He should've stayed there, as a friend to Dean who'd probably drove hundreds of miles to get here. Offer him water, ask him to sit down, inquire about his well-being. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't just be friends with him. He just couldn't - not yet, anyways. He'd loved Dean.

But Dean was not his soulmate.

He didn't have a single speck of black in his hair.

Not a single sign of Castiel on him.

***

Dean's voice carried through the parking lot. "Cas! Dammit, Cas, listen to me! Come back here!I know you're here - come out and talk to me, Cas!"

Castiel held his breath. He couldn't just yet.

"Cas, I have something to tell you!" He yelled, coming closer to Castiel's hiding spot. Well, he wasn't exactly hiding - it was his go-to place. He'd get into his car, and turn up all the windows, and merely sit still with his head on the steering wheel - so unmoving, that no one would see him there. Except, obviously, Dean did.

Before Cas knew it, Dean was rapping his knuckles on the driver's window.

Castiel wanted to let him in - Soulmates didn't matter; Dean was there, and that should be it! - but who was he kidding? Of course it did matter. It meant, there was someone out there meant to spend the rest of their lives with Dean Winchester, and it wasn't Castiel.

"Cas, just listen! Can you hear me?"

Of course he could; Dean was yelling.

"Nod once for yes, twice for no!" He added.

Castiel wanted to laugh, and punch Universe in the face - all in the same breath.

But, instead, he nodded.

"Okay. Cas, listen." Dean cleared his throat. "First and foremost - I dyed my hair."

Castiel stiffened. He lifted his head, to check Dean's face. Nothing but sincerity.

"I did! Believe me - that's why it's all blond!"

Castiel couldn't explain his next move. But he lowered the glass window, and stared directly at Dean without the hindering glass. "Did you not want to have- it in your hair? So badly?"

"Don't be stupid." Dean's eyes crinkled. "It was something else. Believe me - Cas. Of course I wanted to have y-"

"Then why?"

"-it was a stupid and reckless decision. There was a girl. Lisa." Castiel restrained himself, with much of his will. "I didn't love her, Cas. But everyone mistook my streak to mean her. She had a blonde streak too. It was so obvious and meant to be, to those dumb-asses of her class, at Cicero - and I couldn't take it. I couldn't bear people - people who had no idea what you mean to me - pushing me at her, because apparently she was my soulmate. I was damn sure that the Universe had messed it up this time - because I didn't love her like I loved you! couldn't fucking get through all of it - and I definitely didn't want to spend my life with her. So I - I dyed it."

Castiel didn't know what to say.

"I knew it was a bad decision. But, you know me!? I'm not proud of it, but I'm too chicken to face my troubles! Before I knew it, there were things like forever being talked about, with a girl I barely knew - let alone loved."

Castiel breathed. It was easier to breathe, suddenly.

"I'm so sorry - I gave in, and dyed it blond."

"Dean," Castiel whispered, because it seemed like the solution to all troubles. "Dean, I mean - I mean-"

"I am so sorry." He breathed, tentatively. "I should've been thinking about you, Cas. Hell, I should've been thinking about US."

"Yes." Castiel looked down at his lap, again. "You should have."

"But, Cas," Dean almost cried out, as if properly noticing it for the first time. "Cas, you have a blond streak! I was so fucking afraid that you wouldn't! That you'd actually have another soulmate, and I'd be the one who loved you nonetheless! But, it's blond, and it's beautiful! You're beautiful, Cas." Dean sucked in a breath, that seemed to take away all of the worries of the World.

Castiel unconsciously felt his blonde streak. "You like this?"

"I'm going to paint a patch of my hair black, and see how you feel about it then." Dean teased, and Castiel felt something in him melt. "You know, I'll make it look good, and you'll see how crazy and fucking amazing it is to look at the one you love and see that they possess a bit of you."

"Are you sure you didn't dye it off, because it looked bad?" Castiel twitched up a smile, because suddenly, all was okay with the World again.

"It could've been a mo-hawk or looked like a dead bug, and I wouldn't have minded much, Cas."

"I would've minded very much, if you had a black mo-hawk instead of your classic blond, Dean." Castiel smiled.

"Shut up, dork." Dean brushed Castiel hair with his hand. "My hair looks amazing on you, though. You look like a fucking rebel, with fucking golden streaks. Like a rockstar. You look dashing."

Castiel was silent for a while, unconsciously leaning into Dean's touch. "What was it like, Dean?"

"What- Oh. It was the most beautiful part of me, believe me." Dean blinked, and Castiel looked away, in embarrassment. "It was jet black, and unruly, and would never flatten down just like yours, and I was very proud of it. It was so stark, in comparison to the rest of me - and it reminded me of you."

"You realize you're talking about hair, right?" Castiel choked, because joking was difficult when you had tears in your eyes.

"Oh, you know me," Dean sounded quite the same. "All about the chick-flick moments."

Silence ensued for a while, and everything was perfect -

"Hey, you realize that when we have a kid, I'm gonna insist on dying their hair fluorescent pink or blue, don't you?" Dean piped up.

"I don't object," Castiel seemed to be running out of words. "And we're getting you un-dyed or magically treated, or whatever it is that has to be done, to get your streak back, okay?"

And, then, everything was actually perfect.

And, they lived happily ever after.

***

A/N: HOW WAS IT? I WROTE A SOULMATE ALTERNATE UNIVERSE FOR THE FIRST TIME! IT FELT AMAZING...

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btshogwartsauheadcanons · 6 years

Text

The Joys of Transfiguration (and everything in between)

Pairings: Namjoon x Hufflepuff!reader (friends to lovers)

requested by @anon

Hi! Idk if you're doing requests or anything but I really really enjoy your headcanons!! I was wondering if u would be able to do a namjoon x Hufflepuff reader friends to lovers one?? Where Namjoon is looking for jungkook as a bunny after a prank gone wrong and he finds the reader taking care of him not knowing it's Kookie or smth like that? Thank you so much ur fantastic :D !!

Ratings: Fluff

Featuring: Whipped Bunny Jungkook, Seokjin’s red crocs, very clueless Jimin, A Saltbae-sized sprinkle of TaeGi because you know me, and brief mentions of Hoseok being an awesome captain

Word Count: 6k

A/N: Thanks so much for the request anon! I hope you and everyone else enjoys it!

“Hyung, can we go eat dinner already?” Taehyung groaned as he rolled around on Namjoon’s bed and looked up at his friend with pleading, puppy-dog eyes. His adoptive older brother, however, didn’t even lift his eyes from the piece of parchment he was scribbling on.

“You go ahead and eat Taehyung-ah. I’m almost done with this,” he answered. Taehyung pouted and rolled to the opposite side of the bed, knowing that ‘almost’ in Namjoon language took up a range of five minutes to four hours.

“Come on, we need to see how everyone else is reacting to Seokjin-hyung parading around the Great Hall in red crocs,” Taehyung said, hoping to somehow tempt his hyung. “What are you even writing anywat?” he asked, crawling over to sit beside Namjoon.

“Just… a poem,” his hyung answered. Despite the controlled expression on his face, Taehyung spotted the slight movement on his lips that indicated what, or rather, who, the poem was about.

“It’s for Y/N-noona again, isn’t it?” Taehyung grinned.

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Namjoon scrunched up his nose and smiled. “I just… got some inspiration again.”

“When are you going to stop writing what you want to say and saying what you want to say instead?” Taehyung asked. “I mean, can’t you just walk up to her and say ‘Y/N-ah, I love you,’” he said in his best imitation of Namjoon’s voice.

“It’s not that easy, you know that,” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, you haven’t confessed to Yoongi-hyung either.” At hearing this, Taehyung pursed his lips and looked wide-eyed at the starry ceiling of their Ravenclaw dormitory. Namjoon chuckled and shook his head. Taehyung always had that funny, embarrassed yet shy look on his face whenever he talked to him about his crush.

“Fair point,” he finally said.

“Even if I did confess to her, I wouldn’t know what to say,” Namjoon muttered. “It’s easier to write words down.” With that, he went back to his poem and scribbled a few more lines on the parchment. Being from a muggle-born family, Namjoon didn’t see the sense in using quills and ink in class, especially since he often spilled the ink from his inkwell, but he would use them nonetheless. But when he was writing something as genuine as a poem, he’d rather not take the risk and go with an old-fashioned pencil.

“Joon! Namjoon-ah!” an all-too familiar voice echoed through the stairwell. Namjoon hurriedly sandwiched his poem in between two books and placed them on a stack near his bed.

“Y/N-noona!” Taehyung grinned and jumped off the bed. Namjoon quickly followed behind as his friend raced down the steps of their dormitory.

“It’s already dinnertime, are you guys going to eat or what?” he heard you say. You were standing, cross-armed at the bottom of the stairwell. Namjoon knew that you had just finished practice judging by how it was a Friday and that you were still wearing your bright yellow, Hufflepuff Quidditch uniform.

“Namjoon-hyung didn’t want to leave yet,” Taehyung accused his friend.

“I was just finishing something,” Namjoon nudged him. “Anyway, sorry to make you wait. You can go without us next time.”

“Not a chance!” you smiled and shook your head. “Now let’s go and eat. I’m starving,” you turned around and walked ahead.

“If we hurry, we’ll be able to spot Seokjin-hyung parading his red crocs around,” Taehyung grinned.

“No way, did Jungkook prank him again?” you laughed. Namjoon walked beside you and chuckled at Taehyung’s news, only his eyes weren’t on him.

“Sure did! Namjoon-hyung helped a lot too.”

“I convinced him that red crocs were the epitome of fashion in the muggle world,” Namjoon nodded proudly. “Since he wouldn’t believe Jungkook of course.”

“I guess dinner is going to be all the more entertaining,” you, the corner of your lip uplifted in a sneaky smile.

“I-I’ll go ahead!” Taehyung exclaimed, as if he discovered the most brilliant idea ever, which in Namjoon’s case, was. “Don’t want to miss any of that red crocs action.”

“Alright,” Namjoon shrugged, feigning nonchalance when in fact he was giving Taehyung the biggest telepathic high-five ever. Taehyung grinned and ran ahead but not before flashing a very obvious thumbs-up.

“I guess he’s really excited to see it,” you observed.

“It was kind of his idea,” Namjoon said. “I bet to him it’s like seeing his newly-born child.”

“That’s a very accurate but weird way of looking at it,” you laughed. Namjoon smiled to himself, proud that he made you laugh but also kind of embarrassed at that weird description he thought of on the spot. “So, how was practice earlier?”

“Tiring, as always,” you sighed and rubbed at sore muscle on your right shoulder. “Hoseok’s a great captain but boy is he merciless.”

“Make sure you eat a lot later,” Namjoon reminded you. “And drink some chocolate milk. I know that helps a lot with cramps in your muscles. There’s also this pressure point that my grandmother told me about on your arm near the elbow that helps relieve tension when you press it.”

“Really?” you looked up at him with wide eyes. Namjoon nodded, taking your arm and gently prodding at the said pressure point. Sure enough, you felt the soreness from your shoulder earlier fade away. “Wow, it does come in handy. Thanks for that!” you smiled gratefully at him.

“It’s no problem,” Namjoon shook his head.

The two of you soon reached the Great Hall where almost everyone was already seated and enjoying the Friday night dinner. It was often a bit grander compared to other weekday feasts simply because it was a Friday. You and Namjoon quickly found your friends causing a bit of a commotion, like always, with Seokjin at the center of attention angrily removing his red crocs.

“Seriously?! I walked around in this all day,” Seokjin groaned and kicked the red crocs away.

“Looks like Taehyung’s and your prank really did work,” you laughed and nudged Namjoon who wasn’t even trying to contain his laughter. Besides Seokjin, his friends Taehyung, Jungkook and Yoongi were sitting and taking pictures at the Ravenclaw dinner table. Jimin and Hoseok were at the Hufflepuff dinner table with the other Quidditch team players discussing team strategy. Despite the hilarious commotion his friends were causing, Namjoon couldn’t help but sigh knowing that you had to go join your teammates for dinner. He understood how important it was to you but sometimes he just selfishly wanted you all to himself.

“I better join the team,” you said gesturing over your shoulder at Hoseok who was waving you over. “I’ll come by after the meeting to eat dinner with you, okay Namjoon?”

“Y-yeah! Just take your time,” Namjoon nodded.

“I’m coming back to eat dinner with you,” you shook your head. “I finished reading the novel you lent me so you owe me another book recommendation,” you pointed at him. Namjoon didn’t care if he was called a nerd or a geek for it, but he sure felt as if he was falling for you every time you said that you finished a novel he recommended to you. It was kind of how you two bonded after all. When the two of you talked for about five hours about books, Namjoon knew you were the one.

“Sure,” he smiled, waving you off before sitting down beside Taehyung.

“Hey! You were in this too, weren’t you!” Seokjin pointed at him once he sat down. “Wow, I thought you were my friend.”

“Doesn’t mean I love pranking you,” Namjoon snickered. “But then again, if anyone could look good in crocs, it’s you hyung.”

“Flattery won’t work this time,” Seokjin pouted and sat down. “I guess my only friend right now is food,” he sighed and began piling rice on his plate.

“These pictures are going to be all over the Great Hall tomorrow,” Jungkook grinned at his camera and showed it off to Yoongi beside him.

“I still can’t believe you’d think red crocs are hot fashion in the muggle world,” Yoongi shook his head at Seokjin. “I mean, look at them! They look like tiny, weird, rubber boats.”

“Taehyung wears weird stuff all the time!” Seokjin protested.

“Tiny, weird, rubber boats…” Taehyung muttered. “Hey, what if we make them gigantic rubber boats!”

“And have a race in the Great Lake!” Jungkook added.

“Hey, Headmistress McGonagall already put you two in detention for messing around in the Great Lake,” Yoongi warned them.

“Yeah but you can bail us out again, right hyung?” Jungkook smiled cheekily at him. Namjoon snickered, knowing that Yoongi was still going to give in to their requests no matter how many times he had to do it.

“I think that’s a ‘yes’,” Taehyung grinned. Yoongi glanced at him once and groaned, an indication that he was going to do it after all.

“Hold on, I think I’m being called for a team meeting,” Jungkook said, looking over their heads at the Slytherin Quidditch team captain waving him over to their table. The game between Hufflepuff and Slytherin was in two weeks so most teams were already getting their strategies and workout regimens ready. “See you guys,” he waved and walked away.

“Man, I wish there was some way I could prank him back,” Seokjin muttered, poking at his rice with his chopsticks. “It might fun seeing one of the biggest pranksters here getting pranked himself.”

“You might need some accomplices for that one, hyung,” Namjoon advised. “If it’s just you alone, there’s a chance Jungkook will find something fishy quickly.”

“You’re right,” Seokjin nodded. “Yoongi—”

“Nope,” Yoongi cut him off.

“I can help,” Taehyung piped up.

“Yeah right, you’ll probably find a way to prank me too,” Seokjin looked at him with distrust.

“I think it would also be funny to see him get pranked,” Taehyung shrugged. “And I’ll do it right if you pay me. I’ll take twenty galleons worth of stuff from either Honeydukes or Zonko’s.”

“You’d sell out your prank buddy like that?” Yoongi frowned.

“He’d do the same to me. That’s how friendship works,” Taehyung said. Yoongi mulled that statement over in his head for a while before nodding in agreement.

“Alright then,” Seokjin grinned. “Prank him good and you’ve got yourselves a deal.” He reached out his hand and the two shook on it.

“How are you planning to prank Jungkook then?” Namjoon asked.

“You guys come up with a situation or an excuse,” Taehyung answered. “But I’ve mastered the perfect spell for this,” he grinned smugly.

“Is it another awesome Transfiguration spell?” Namjoon asked, clearly sounding impressed. He always admired the new and often complicated Transfiguration spells Taehyung invented.

“Yup,” Taehyung nodded sagely. “Recently I’ve learned how to transfigure ordinary black robes… into Fruit Roll-ups.” He grinned up at his seatmates, clearly awaiting some kind of applause but instead being greeted with confused looks on Yoongi and Seokjin’s faces and pure exasperation on Namjoon’s.

“Fruit… Roll-ups,” Yoongi repeated slowly.

“They’re this kind of candy in the muggle world,” Namjoon explained. “They’re like sheets of gummy candy that kind of taste like fruit but are really just artificial.”

“How did you come up with that?” Yoongi stared at Taehyung with a mixture of awe and confusion.

“In Transfiguration class, professor taught us a spell to change the colors of ordinary robes,” Taehyung explained. “But I was craving Fruit Roll-ups too so I guess I turned the robes into candy,” he shrugged.

“I can’t believe you sometimes,” Yoongi shook his head. Namjoon nodded in agreement.

“Will it look weird and gross on Jungkook?” Seokjin asked.

“Very,” Taehyung raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll take it,” Seokjin nodded. “Jungkook’s got another thing coming for him now.”

…

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that you fell in love Hogwarts your carriage arrived at the entrance. You loved the Great Hall, the warm and cozy Hufflepuff Common Room, the Great Lake, and the gigantic Quidditch stadium. It was quite easy for you making friends considering how inviting your fellow Hufflepuffs, both in your year and above, were to each other. You even found yourself having a slumber party with the other girls in your dormitory, giggling and sharing stories until you all passed out late at night. There was never a feeling of homesickness in sight.

But of course, the introverted side of you got tired of the constant social interaction. Which is exactly what led you to visiting the library early in your first week of classes. Somehow, you found time to escape all the flurry activities to read a book, or two, for a few hours each week in the library.

And that’s how you met Kim Namjoon.

Well, not exactly meet him for the first time. The two of you shared Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms class together. You didn’t know much about him except for the fact that he was a bit shy around his classmates but he always raised his hand and answered perfectly when the professor called him. When you saw him in the library, poring over a textbook with another stack of books next to him, you didn’t need to guess much to figure out why he was so smart.

The first few months of school, the only interactions you two had were smiles and nods when you passed each other in the library aisles. You always stayed around him long enough to read the title of the book he was currently reading before retreating to your own reading spot. You couldn’t help it, whenever you saw someone reading a book curiosity compelled you to read the title.

The only time you talked to him, like actually talked to him, was when you found him passed out over his books on a Sunday night. It was almost dinnertime and you didn’t see him take a break or anything so of course finding Namjoon like this kind of worried you. Taking matters in your own house, you slid it into the seat in front of him and knocked on the table to wake him up.

“Hey, Kim Namjoon,” you said under your breath, gently shaking his shoulder. He groaned and sat up, to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“What time is it?” he yawned.

“It’s almost dinnertime,” you answered and placed a small carton of pumpkin juice in front of him. “I snuck this in. I thought you might need a drink.”

“Wow, thanks,” Namjoon smiled and gratefully took the pumpkin juice. You noticed the very adorable dimples that showed up on his cheeks when he smiled. “Thanks for waking me up too.”

“No problem,” you smiled back. “I figured you’d rather see someone other than Ms. Pince waking you up.”

“More like smacking me with a piece of parchment,” Namjoon chuckled, pulling out a parchment scroll from behind a stack of books. You looked over at it to find the Potions essay that Professor Slughorn gave everyone as homework. “Hey, have you finished the Potions essay yet?”

“Yeah, yesterday,” you nodded. “What did you make yours about?”

“I’m actually not finished with it yet,” Namjoon laughed sheepishly.

“I-It’s supposed to be two parchment scrolls long and it’s due to tomorrow,” you stammered.

“I always work on things the day before,” he said. That surprised you. Knowing how well he did in class, you expected Namjoon to be the kind of student who worked on homework the day it was given.

“The day before?” you repeated. “You always get high marks on your essays. How do you do it?”

“Procrastinating gives me time to think about things,” Namjoon said. “And I kind of spent most of my time reading yesterday.”

“’Frankenstein’ by Mary Shelley, right?” you smiled.

“Yeah,” Namjoon nodded and smiled back, showing off those adorable dimples again. “Have you read it?”

“A few times,” you said. “It’s quite exciting after all. It’s fun to read it when it’s raining outside.”

“It matches the mood perfectly,” Namjoon agreed. “I love reading books when it’s raining too.”

“And with a mug of tea,” you added.

“With that kind of set-up, I don’t think I’ll do an ounce of homework,” Namjoon chuckled.

“You know, the Hufflepuff Common Room has a really nice reading corner,” you said. “It’s basically just a carpet with a bunch of pillows around it. Some people like making a blanket fort, but it is a great spot for reading. You should come sometime.”

“R-really?” Namjoon stammered, clearly surprised.

“Sure,” you nodded. “Hufflepuffs are really friendly to outsiders.”

“I-I know that. It’s just that, I haven’t made a lot of friends yet, except for Hoseok and two of my other hyungs,” Namjoon explained. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Of course,” you grinned. “It’s nice to meet another person who loves reading.”

“The Ravenclaw Common Room is way too chaotic for reading,” Namjoon chuckled. “Even late at night, you’ll find someone incubating salamander eggs in the furnace.”

“At least you’re not in the Gryffindor Common Room,” you raised an eyebrow.

“At least I’m not in the Gryffindor Common Room,” Namjoon agreed.

…

“Taehyung, how many neckties do you have?” Seokjin asked, looking over Taehyung’s shoulder as he rifled through the chest near his bed.

“Enough,” Taehyung shrugged, pulling a purple-and-blue polka dot tie and putting it over his neck. He always wore his favorite neckties on Saturdays and Sundays. If he didn’t love Ravenclaw so much, Namjoon was sure Taehyung would wear a weird necktie every day.

“Did someone fetch Jungkook yet?” Seokjin asked.

“Yeah, I talked to him during breakfast,” Namjoon said. “He’ll come up as soon as he finishes doing his morning routine of pining over Jimin.”

“That’s going to take a while,” Taehyung and Seokjin chorused.

“Hey guys, I’m here,” Jungkook appeared, jogging up the steps to the Ravenclaw boy’s dormitory. “Did I miss anything.” Namjoon, Seokjin, and Taehyung glanced at each other and shook their heads.

“You’re just in time,” Taehyung said.

“Are you sure you can actually transfigure normal robes into invisibility robes?” Jungkook asked.

“He did it to me last night,” Namjoon lied. He didn’t participate in pranks much himself but he was the best accomplice to have since most people believed what he would say. “I used it to sneak this book out of the library,” he added, holding up the book he was currently reading.

“That’s awesome,” Jungkook looked at Taehyung who was grinning smugly.

“You guys can mess with Filch even more now,” Seokjin suggested. “Or give Peeves a run for his money.”

“Alright,” Jungkook nodded, seemingly convinced and looked at Taehyung who was already holding out his wand. “Ready when you are.”

Only Namjoon could have spotted the knowing glance that Seokjin and Taehyung exchanged before casting the spell. But no one could have expected Jungkook to turn into a small, black and white rabbit. Everyone fell silent for a while, watching bunny Jungkook hop around, sniffing the air curiously, until finally Taehyung spoke up.

“I don’t think the spell’s supposed to do that…”

“You think?” Seokjin wildly gestured at Jungkook. “He’s a bunny!”

“A very cute one at that,” Taehyung smiled sheepishly.

“That isn’t making this situation better,” Seokjin sighed.

Namjoon got off the bed he was sitting on and walked slowly towards the Jungkook bunny. It looked up at him, twitched its ears, before jumping towards his foot. Namjoon knelt down and scooped him up in his hands.

“I think he still recognizes us,” Namjoon said. “Jungkook, nod twice if you understand me.” The bunny looked up at him and nodded twice.

“He’s going to be so mad when he turns back into himself,” Taehyung winced.

“You’re the one who said you could turn his clothes into Fruit Roll whatevers,” Seokjin blamed him.

“First of all, they’re called Fruit Roll-ups. Do not disgrace a holy name.” Seokjin rolled his eyes. “And secondly, you’re the one who asked me to prank him.” Jungkook perked up his ears at the statement and looked at the two of them. If bunnies could narrow their eyes, Namjoon guessed that the Jungkook bunny was death-glaring at Taehyung and Seokjin.

“We’ll turn you back, I promise,” Seokjin said. Jungkook stuck its nose in the air and turned away.

“Do you think we should take him to Madame Pomfrey?” Namjoon suggested.

“No, no way,” Taehyung shook his head. “She said that she would send me straight to detention if I transfigured my friends into animals again.”

“Again?” Seokjin looked at him incredulously.

“Maybe around twelve times,” Namjoon shrugged. “So, who do we take Jungkook to?”

“I know! Professor Slughorn!” Taehyung exclaimed. “We’re close,” he bragged. Even though Taehyung wasn’t that good at Potions itself, Professor Slughorn clearly had a soft spot for him and often praised his outlandish Transfiguration achievements.

“Sounds good,” Seokjin nodded.

“You’ll be back your old Jungkookie self in a little bit,” Namjoon said, stroking Jungkook’s head. Although he had to admit, it was pretty nice seeing him in bunny form.

The three of them made their way out of the Ravenclaw tower and headed downstairs to the Dungeons where Professor Slughorn’s office was. It was a Saturday so there were students milling around the hallways or playing outside. Namjoon usually spent his Saturday mornings with you reading in the Hufflepuff room or doing a weird, crazy experiment in the Ravenclaw room. Of course, now you were busy practicing for the upcoming Quidditch match.

“Wow, those guys sure are prepared,” Seokjin said, pausing for a while to watch the Hufflepuff team as he walked by. Namjoon paused to look as well. You had joined the Quidditch team in your second year as a Seeker. Practice with everyone did eat up on your time together but Namjoon really loved seeing you fly, weaving in-between the goalposts and doing seamless loop-de-loops in the air. There was a small feeling of worry in his chest whenever he saw you but he always believed that you could handle yourself on a broom.

Right now, Hoseok was making everyone do drills by attempting to toss the Quaffle through the goalposts while he was guarding it. Jungkook was watching too, standing up on his hind legs with his ears perked up whenever he saw Jimin make a shot. Even in bunny form, Jungkook was still whipped for Jimin. Namjoon wasn’t any different as he stared up at you, doing your own drills by chasing a golden snitch around the field.

“No offense Jungkook but I think Hufflepuff is in it to win it again this year,” Taehyung said. Jungkook twitched his nose.

“Alright everyone. Good practice! Let’s have a break now and come back an hour after lunch,” Hoseok called. Namjoon could hear his loud, captain-like voice even from the ground. The rest of the team prepared to land except for you. From the looks of it, you found the snitch already and was chasing it down heavily. With one hand on your broom and the other hand outstretched, you dove directly downwards before pulling up sharply and snatching the snitch from the air.

If Namjoon had the chance to see that over and over again, he would.

“Nice catch,” Seokjin and Taehyung clapped once you landed next to your team. Namjoon watched as you removed your goggles, the ones he gave you for Christmas, and sat down on the bench to drink water.

“They really might give you guys a run for your money, right Jungkookie?” Namjoon said, looking down at his hands to find that bunny Jungkook disappeared. “J-Jungkook?”

“Weren’t you holding him?” Taehyung turned around. Namjoon looked wildly around him.

“I was but then when I looked down he wasn’t there,” he said.

“Isn’t that him?” Seokjin pointed at the grass where a black and white ball of fur could be seen hopping around and nibbling the grass. “He must be hungry,” Seokjin groaned and called after him. “Hey! Didn’t you eat breakfast already?” But bunny Jungkook ignored him and kept on hopping ahead, right towards where the Hufflepuff team was.

“I’ll go get him,” Namjoon said, already chasing after Jungkook. “You guys go get Professor Slughorn. Meet me in the Ravenclaw Common Room later.”

“Got it,” Taehyung nodded as he and Seokjin went ahead.

…

“Hoseok sure is drilling everyone to death,” you panted and took a sip from your water bottle. In front of you, Jimin grinned despite the sweat rolling down his flushed face.

“Can’t keep up, noona?” he teased.

“Shut up, I was thinking about you,” you huffed and took another drink of water. It was a Saturday morning so almost everyone in the castle was either sleeping in or relaxing in the Common Room. You were kind of annoyed that Quidditch practice was currently eating up on your time with Namjoon but then again, it was better than having Hoseok get mad at you. Right now, Hoseok dismissed the team for a lunch break, giving you a little extra free time before you had to go back.

“Hey, can you pass me my water bottle?” Jimin asked. “It’s on the ground next to the bench.”

“Alright,” you nodded, bending over to fetch Jimin’s bright blue water bottle when you spotted what appeared to be a black and white bunny hopping straight toward you. Any questions you had regarding where the bunny came from or why it was here disappeared when you saw it twitch its cute little nose.

“Awww… you seem lost little guy,” you cooed, holding out your hands on the ground. The bunny hopped forward hesitantly before finally jumping into your hands, making you squeal even louder.

“What is it?” Jimin asked, looking over your shoulder. You turned around to face him and showed the little bunny in your hands. Jimin’s face melted at the sight. “Awww… it’s so cute!” he reached out a hand and gently stroked the bunny’s fur. The bunny twitched it’s nose up at Jimin and stood slightly on its hind legs.

“I think it likes you,” you grinned and handed the bunny over to him. Jimin held it up near his face and kissed it lightly on its head. You giggled at the sight knowing that Jimin could hardly help himself when it came to petting and giving love to cute animals.

“Where do you think the owner is?” Jimin wondered.

“Hey! Guys!” you turned around and spotted Namjoon running toward you.

“Look! We found this cute little bunny,” Jimin greeted, holding up the bunny for him to see. “Do you know who it belongs to?”

“I-I found it in the greenhouse,” Namjoon stammered. “I named it Flopsy.”

“Awww, Flopsy!” Jimin grinned and played with the bunny’s ears. “It’s perfect!”

“Maybe we should find something for it to eat,” you suggested. “Something other than grass.”

“I know!” Jimin exclaimed. “Professor Sprout was growing Scullyweed in the greenhouse. Animals love that stuff. Watch over Flopsy while I go get it,” he said, handing Flopsy over to you. Flopsy tried to jump back into Jimin’s hands but you gently held him back.

“Jimin will be back later, Flopsy,” you cooed at him. “He’s getting you something good to eat.”

“Let’s meet later at the Ravenclaw Common Room,” Namjoon instructed Jimin who nodded and began heading to the greenhouse.

“See you later Flopsy!” Jimin waved before leaving.

…

Of all the people Jungkook decided to run to, it had to be you. You had such a soft spot for cute animals and once you were near one, it was almost impossible for you to walk away from it. Admittedly, it could have been worse if Jimin found Jungkook first. Jimin practically rivaled you when it came to his love for cute animals and Namjoon didn’t think Jungkook would want to escape Jimin’s affection either.

But then again, it wasn’t so bad for him seeing how cute you looked playing with bunny Jungkook.

“Man, I wish I could just stay here and play with Flopsy all day,” you sighed, leaning against one of the bedposts on Namjoon’s bed.

“You still have more Quidditch practice later?” Namjoon asked.

“After lunch,” you nodded. “Hoseok is really pulling all the stops this year.”

“When has he never not pulled all the stops?” Namjoon chuckled.

“True,” you grinned tiredly. “It’s eating up on my reading time with you,” you pouted. “After Quidditch season, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“You can make it up to me by catching the Golden Snitch,” Namjoon smirked and looked up at you. “Maybe when you do, you can yell out ‘Kim Namjoon is the coolest!’” or something.”

“’Study sessions with Kim Namjoon are open!’” you yelled. You grinned at him cheekily. “Something like that?”

“Hey! Last time I did that I hardly slept for a week!” Namjoon protested.

“But everyone did get good grades because of you,” you shrugged. “Still, I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“You don’t have to,” Namjoon smiled and shook his head. “It’s enough that you even hang out with me.”

“Hey,” you edged closer to Namjoon on the bed. “I don’t like hearing insecurity talk from you. And besides, it’s fun hanging out with you, and that’s not because you’re great at helping me do homework.”

“Ah, and now your ulterior motive comes up,” Namjoon sighed and nodded. “I should have known that that’s why you were hanging out with me all these years.”

“Shut up!” you laughed at his joke. “If I only befriended you because you helped me with my homework I wouldn’t be putting up with listening to all your weird conspiracy theories.”

“Hey, aliens are real!” Namjoon protested.

“Right, and the government is totally watching us through bird cameras,” you rolled your eyes.

“If Hogwarts is real I don’t see how that can’t,” Namjoon raised an eyebrow at you. You crossed your arms and leaned back.

“Touche.”

Jungkook hopped around the bed a few more times before finally stopping to rest on top of one of the stacks of books on Namjoon’s bed. You raised your hand up and petted it on the head.

“Man, I guess Flopsy’s finally tired,” you grinned and scratched him on the nose. Namjoon now felt himself pouting slightly at the interaction. Now he wished Taehyung cast that spell on him instead of Jungkook. But then again, if he was the bunny, he’d probably trip over his own paws while hopping.

“Jimin should be back any second now,” Namjoon said. And hopefully, so would Taehyung and Seokjin with some way to turn Jungkook back to normal. But, after hearing the name ‘Jimin’, Jungkook hopped excitedly off the stack of books, kicking most of them down on the floor in the process.

“Ah, you really shouldn’t stack your books on your bed,” you said, reaching down to pick up the fallen books off the floor.

“Sorry about that,” Namjoon apologized, crawling over to help pick up the books.

“You also keep leaving these sheets of parchment lying around,” you added, picking up a fallen sheet of parchment that had been wedged in-between the stack of books. “No wonder you sometimes have to rewrite your homework,” you chuckled.

“I know, I know,” Namjoon nodded. “I’ll try to put it all in a drawer.” You picked up the piece of parchment blank side up and right before you turned it over to see what was written, Namjoon caught a glimpse of his writing. It was a very brief glance, but long enough for him to remember what he wrote on it.

It was one of his poems for you.

…

“Y/N!” Namjoon reached a hand out to stop you but not before you read your name on the title of the poem. Your Quidditch reflexes kicked in to block Namjoon’s hand before he could grab the parchment.

“Why is my name here then?” you asked. You saw Namjoon swallow nervously as he searched for something to say. Even you felt your heart racing a bit faster, faster than when you were chasing after the Snitch earlier. Namjoon always let you read the poems he wrote so why was he so guarded about this now?

Maybe it was just you jumping to conclusions after three years of wishing that Namjoon shared the same feelings you did, but could it be that the poem was for you?

“Why are you so quiet?” you found yourself speaking up. “Can you… please say something? Anything?”

Namjoon looked into your eyes. It made you remember the first time you actually met in the library. At that time, you two were just young first years looking for a friend to share their interests with. Who would have known you would have begun to feel something more about him?

“It’s about you,” Namjoon finally confessed. He reached his hand out to you and you bit your lip before handing him the poem. He looked down at the words he wrote, fingers gently smoothing out the wrinkles in the parchment, a habit that you often saw him do while he was reading. Even though he was often called ‘Destruction Monster’ because of how clumsy he was, you did acknowledge the fact that he had such gentle-looking hands. You kept your eyes on them, uncertain of where else to look, as he read out the poem to you.

Whenever you read any of the poems or song lyrics he wrote, you were always dazzled by Namjoon’s gift with words. It probably came from all his reading and from the unique way he looked at the world which you always loved about him. His poetry always evoked some deep emotion within you. But now, hearing your own name spoken along with the words Namjoon skillfully stitched together, you felt something even deeper. The magic from Namjoon’s poem outshone almost every piece of magic in Hogwarts.

When he finished reading, neither of you spoke for a while, as if you two were afraid of somehow breaking something precious. But even without talking, you could sense Namjoon’s anxiety as he waited for your reaction and you hated seeing him so overwhelmed.

“Namjoon…” you began. Namjoon hesitantly met your eyes. You really wished you were as good as words as he was but the only things that came into your head were lines from those cheesy romantic novels you read secretly. Eventually, all you could say was “I feel the same way.”

The emotions on Namjoon’s face went from anxious to surprised to pure, utter happiness. You giggled at the sight of his dimples as he grinned.

“R-really?” he stammered, running a hand through his hair. “You like me? Me?”

“Why do you look like you’re about to spout a conspiracy theory?” you laughed at him.

“Are you kidding me? This is the best conspiracy theory I’ve ever discovered!” Namjoon laughed and hugged you.

“Who knows? An alien might appear in front of the door now,” you grinned, feeling your face flush as you hugged him back. Suddenly, the door slammed open and Taehyung ran in.

“Namjoon-hyung! I figured it out!” Taehyung yelled, pulling his wand out. You and Namjoon turned to watch as Taehyung walked towards where Flopsy still was resting on the bed. “All I need to do is cast that spell that undoes Transfiguration spells.” He directed his wand at Flopsy and yelled “Reparifarge!” Then, the bunny, which apparently was not actually a bunny, transformed into none other than Jeon Jungkook. He was sprawled on the bed, looking right at you and Namjoon still hugging each other. You felt your face heat up realizing that he was there all this time.

“Um… nice weather we’re having,” he smiled sheepishly.

“Where’s Seokjin?” Namjoon asked.

“Hiding from Jungkook,” Taehyung said.

“You should be doing the same thing,” Jungkook shot Taehyung a dangerous look and began rolling up his sleeves.

“S-stop that! You know how much that makes me nervous,” Taehyung backed away slowly. Just then, the door opened again and Jimin ran in carrying basket of leaves.

“I got the Scullyweed!” he grinned. “What did I miss? Where’s Flopsy?”

“I think things are going to get a bit messy in here,” you sighed.

“Want to go to the library?” Namjoon asked. You contemplated that for a bit before nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

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cosmicflowchart · 6 years

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do you have any Colin + kitty + pearl family headcanons? Your writing is lovely it'd be great to hear your thoughts :)

aww thank you, that’s so sweet!! and yeah i do :D these are sort of broad and disorganized, and there’s a lot of ‘em, but here’s what i think the ritmans get up to:

kitty and colin first met at a gay bar. colin had just started bleaching his hair and was actually kind of nervous that people were now, you know, seeing him with it

kitty slid in next to him and asked, “who does your hair?” and when colin said, “I do,” she fired back, “i could tell. still, not bad for a first attempt. keep at it, mate.”

colin might’ve been a bit intoxicated, so he laughed. even if it was a bit of an insult, she came back so quickly that it caught him off guard, in a good way.

(sidenote: kitty’s way funnier than colin is. colin knows computers and timelines and conspiracies and all that shit, but kitty can make anyone laugh, especially colin.)

later, as they started hanging out more, they discovered they were the only two bisexuals at that bar and (supposedly) in that part of town

they started dating like three weeks after they first met

kitty bleached her hair the day after they started going out together and colin was like :OO and she just went “i think it suits me, what do you think?” and he was just. jaw on the floor, man.

all of their gay friends assumed they were each other’s beards/that they were both just gay/homosexuals and were like “oh that’s so sweet of you, what good friends!” but nah. they were into each other and they were still very bisexual

they had to deal with so much biphobia and erasure it was ridiculous. at one point kitty considered dying her hair the color of the bi flag so people would get the hint, but colin talked her out of it (striped hair is the one style that kitty doesn’t look good in)

when they got married, they dyed their hair the same color–bright green. was it tacky? absolutely. did it match the outfits they had picked out? nope! did they care? fuck no.

they didn’t have an elaborate ceremony, they’re both really private, but they did invite friends

parenthood????? ?? not the plan at all!!! neither kitty nor colin wanted kids–they bonded over their mutual disinterest in (and disgust with) them

kitty and colin don’t get along with their parents so they were afraid they’d turn out like said parents, and that their potential children would grow up without grandparental guidance

but when they realized kitty was pregnant, it never crossed their minds to get rid of her; they just thought “oh okay, this is happening, let’s figure this out”

and it took them a few months of slaving over the well-being of this incompetent infant ((parenting is super fuckin hard alright)) before they realized that like, hey, they’re actually doing this! somehow!!

you remember that smile colin has when he looks down at baby!pearl in his arms in that one bandersnatch path? yeah, imagine that smile, but every time he so much as looks at or thinks about pearl. he’s just like wow okay i made a human holy shit

even when pearl’s done something dumb he’s just like that’s my girl

actually. when she does do something and fails, he does the whole “you failed! and it was wonderful!” thing from meet the robinsons

kitty makes fun of him for it, not because it’s not masculine (colin doesn’t give a shit honestly, gender’s as much of a prison as reality is), but because she knows exactly who he’s looking at when he makes that exact smile and she’s like okay what did our child do now

he didn’t take nearly as many hallucinogens the older he got, parenthood makes that way less responsible–and he definitely didn’t want kitty to be the One Parent in charge when he was home

kitty. is so soft. like not just personality wise but just in terms of touch. she’s also the best damn hugger in the world

colin and pearl are notably not huggers except when it comes to kitty for this exact reason

neither kitty nor colin are very good cooks. pearl can kind of cook, so when she hit about seventeen she started cooking for them

the takeout folks know who the ritmans are. they ended up being friends of the family once kitty was about three

despite the stress and time demands of his job, colin made every effort to go to every event pearl was in, even if A) she claimed she didn’t need him there or B) he had to stay up until 4 am that night finishing something.

he had no idea how much love he had for pearl until she appeared and he just. he kind of enjoys being a dad, even though he never expected to

pearl never achieved the same level of chill as her dad (and she tended to envy him for it)

so one day she just sat him down and said how are you so calm all the time?!?!?

his answer boiled down to A) he did a ton of drugs in the 80s and it probably fucked his brain chemistry permanently, and B) [more healthily] he’s just along for the ride, and you can only really control (if that) how you react and behave to what comes at you

pearl always found that really hard to do–like kitty, she found that things bothered her even when she knew instinctively they really didn’t matter–but she started going to therapy to sort through that

pearl started being interested in her dad’s career in her early teens; she wanted to rebel (as all middle schoolers do) but when she found out her dad–who she was pretty sure was just a giant Nerd–did all these edgy, critically acclaimed games, she just went hey dad whatcha doin and started learning from him

by 18 she was making her own games–this would’ve been 2000/2001-ish, so she’d still be making 2D games and shit, but she also started making 3D games after getting the right hardware

((the perks of having a massively successful game developer for a dad lmao))

when pearl showed colin her first completed game, which was (of course) a choose-your-own-adventure, he actually cried with joy. he didn’t burst into tears, but he welled up and had trouble talking for a moment. she was like “dad you okay” and he just kinda. he threw his arms around her. he’d gotten his hopes down for whatever the universe was in store for her but she got all the best parts of him and none of the bad stuff well okay she did but she was in therapy and that was helping A LOT

she was still convinced that she should’ve removed the government conspiracy track, it felt like too much for her first game. but colin loved it.

she was worried that her competition (which there wasn’t quite yet) would try and steal her work before she could publish it…..kitty reassured her that wouldn’t happen but like. what if

(she eventually grew out of her conspiracy-theory phase, but that didn’t happen until her mid-20s, before which she and colin grew way closer)

(oh yeah, pearl definitely grew up with a bit of paranoia. it had nothing to do with living with Mr. Conspiracy Theory himself, it was just a side effect of undiagnosed ADHD)

colin had always secretly hoped she’d get into programming, but he never forced the issue. if the universe wanted her to follow in his footsteps, it’d happen on its own. he didn’t want to influence her (and if she was anything like him, if he suggested she program something, she would have proceeded to very much NOT do that.

pearl has that same “don’t tell me what to do” streak that her dad (and kitty!) has, but faced worse judgment for it for being a girl, especially in school

…..prompting kitty to offer to come to school, and later pearl’s workplace, to kick their asses (usually joking???????? you can’t really tell with kitty)

when pearl was about six, and kitty offered to kick someone’s ass (well, when pearl was six kitty just offered to ‘talk them down’), pearl just said loudly, “eh it’s okay, if they make fun of me for throwing like a girl again, i’ll just beat them up myself”

kitty looked a little worried, but colin laughed from the other room so honestly, score one for pearl

pearl was like……..half joking

by the way, she has no memory of saying this at all

but it ends up being colin and kitty’s favorite story to tell and embarrass pearl with at parties

adult!pearl built her own computer, and when she showed it off to colin and kitty, kitty was just like, jaw on the floor, this is fuckin cool and pearl was just talking her through all of the parts she got and was real proud of herself :)))

colin had this big fuckin smile on his face before he just said, you showoff, and then praised her for real.

pearl tried pot during her first year of university. just a couple times, though. didn’t do much for her.

but colin knew when she came back from school. he could tell.

as soon as pearl realized he knew she tried to explain it, but he just went listen you have no idea how many drugs i did when i was your age, don’t sweat it love

bandersnatch (2018)……oof. that wasn’t fun. that was the one big argument they had.

pearl and colin, being almost similar personalities, did have their disagreements when she was growing up, but it was never as deep or prolonged as when colin found out pearl was remaking it, starring someone he kind of cared about.

it became an off-limits point of discussion when pearl called or visited, after an argument that was so bad that kitty left the room in tears.

both colin and pearl were like…….shit. so they agreed not to talk about it.

i’m stopping there because this got a little long-winded. but there you go~

#long post #kitty ritman #colin ritman #bandersnatch #black mirror #black mirror: bandersnatch #anon ask #ask #hc #headcanon #headcanons #pearl ritman #kitty #colin #pearl #KITTY SAID GAY RIGHTS

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a-million-stories-for-you-blog · 6 years

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Stanford Pines Application: Accepted

Name/Alias: Rosenthorne (Or Jess or Thorne)

Preferred Pronouns: She/her/They/Them

Age: 29

Time Zone: Central

Discord name: *Private* (since you already know who it is 8U)

Triggers: Not much. Bit of a crime buff so I’ve seen/read a few morbid things. Or a lot. Don’t like feet.

Personal/About Yourself: I can be nice and squeaky clean or I can be downright morbid and not so clean. Depends on the situation. I’m a stickler for canon when it comes down to it. Not much for romance but I can write for it when the mood allows. I have written a LOT of smut in my day though. I love the strange, the unique, dark humor, dark stuff in general.

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Character Name: Stanford Filbrick Pines

Headcanon Age: Young to Adult (But like 15 minutes older than Stan XD)

Headcanons About Character:

-Asexual, aromantic. This is mainly for the fact that in Journal 3 he wrote that he found ‘romance more baffling to him than the greatest mysteries of the universe’. If that doesn’t scream asexual, I don’t know what does.

-Despite being asexual, he is very touch starved. He wants people to talk to him. He doesn’t mind hugs, holding hands, platonic cuddles, laying side by side while talking about anything really (it doesn’t have to be science based), etc, from those who are very close to him. He will always do what he can for those who mean a lot to him. Any unsolicited touching without his acknowledgement of who it is will usually end with someone’s arm twisted behind their back and on their stomach on the floor out of reflex.

-Has a hard time opening up to people and is still learning on how to do so. This is the result of being viciously bullied growing up with Stan as his only friend. This makes being touch starved even worse.

-He did love DDMD in middle school on up and tried to join the local clubs full of other nerds who adored the game, however he was shunned and avoided like the plague due to his extra fingers. Undeterred, Ford continued to make OCs and strategies in hopes that one day he’d have friends to play it with.

-He would quickly finish his tests in school and, instead of turning it in, ‘accidentally’ leave it somewhere that Stan could cheat off him. While Stan did this, Ford would use this time to draw or read paranormal books.

-Terrified of swimming in open water at a young age, opposite of Stan’s fear of heights. He slowly grew accustomed to the idea of sailing when Stan started to weave the idea of adventures on the high seas. He did have a fascination with boats despite his fear and he had tried learning to swim in a community pool, making him a mediocre swimmer. After he arrived in Gravity Falls, he included swimming in the lake as part of his exercise regimen. He had hoped to swim the areas Nessie or Ogopogo had been rumored to be.

-After Ford closed the curtains on Stan when he was kicked out, Ford sunk to his knees and cried while hugging a pillow. Time was lost to him (he spent two weeks in his room, barely eating what his mother brought to him or going anywhere). His heart and trust had been shattered by the only person he had ever trusted. During that time, his father started to beat ideas into his head, building him up to a more egotistical persona, one that re-sparked his interest in inventing and school. He made Ford believe he was better than everyone, that he was special and only people like him were destined for something greater. However, the motives to get Ford moving again was not without want of personal gain. Filbrick still wanted those potential millions. These motives have severely harmed Ford’s ability to forgive Stanley. Ford is slowly unlearning what his father had instilled in him.

-To Filbrick’s dismay, Ford did not go down the path of ‘potential millions’ right away. The father had tried to make Ford change his mind about going out west to pursue his interests in favor of being hired on as a scientist somewhere. However, the flattery had made Ford a bit more cynical to the world around him. He did not share his grant money like his father expected him to. He pretty much cut ties with the rest of his family minus the occasional phone call to his mother.

-If it weren’t for his mother and later Fiddleford and Bill in his early years, Ford would have been worse off. When he throws himself into his work, he forgets to take care of himself. He wouldn’t shower for weeks on end, forget to eat or sleep to the point of passing out and would often forget what day or year it was.

-Loves horror movies and has somewhat identified with the monsters but greatly criticizes them. He has never showed any fear toward ‘old school’ horror movies. However, he hates jump scares and will react violently to them out of reflex.

-Ford’s trench coats have been modified to be ‘bags of holding’ through a technique he learned while traversing the universe. When you look into one of the many pockets, you find nothing but a void of stars and nebulae which pretty much are ‘pocket dimensions’. **BU-DUM-TISS** He could pull more than a live rabbit out of any one of them at any moment. Probably an extinct Dodo bird or a mini noodle dragon.

-Ford has doodles all throughout Journal 1 and 2 of characters he created for DDMD. He also has a strategy journal floating around the shack somewhere that contains some of his best material that has been lost for years.

-He buys ALL of his clothes in bulk, sometimes the boots already have their own mud stains or have them printed on them at all times. It’s a look Ford loves. Speaking of looks, not all of his black pants are actual pants. Some of them are spandex or yoga pants in case he’s afraid he may rip normal pants when having to do something athletic.

-Yes, he does have 12 PHDs. He earned one on earth but the rest were earned during the 30 years he was away. None of them are in the medical field. That’s what spells are for. One has to wonder if the other eleven are even valid in our dimension. Even he ponders that but will probably aggressively state that they are.

-Everyone expects him to like classical music. While, yes, this is true, he actually took a liking to rock and alternative music. However, he somehow knows all the lyrics to songs that were not made in his time, possibly from a parallel timeline where he got his PHDs.

-He has commissioned Mabel to make him a knitted Plaidipus plush that he shamelessly sleeps with every night. Its name is ‘Theory’.

-Ford keeps up an exercise regimen that he doesn’t force on anyone. He couldn’t care less about anyone’s physical prowess unless they wanted to adventure with him. He doesn’t want them hurt. He only comments on his brother to rile him up from time to time. Sibling rivalry and all.

-Ford has killed before and he will kill again if he has to. He doesn’t like talking about it but most of his kills were the result of either protecting himself or someone or getting something he desperately needs.

-He has a lot of scarring all across his body. While he will admit half of them were from his years in the multiverse, a good chunk of them were from Bill after he found out that Bill was plotting against him.

-After Stan’s memory recovery and his adrenaline came down, Ford had to be taken to the hospital as a result of Bill’s torture on top of the ride in the alien shuttle that would have taken him to an intergalactic prison. He didn’t stay there long. In fact, after he was bandaged up, he declared himself healed and walked right out the front door. Remember, none of his PHDs were in medical. He probably memorized a healing spell.

-Ford may be looking into changing his name after seeing the list of charges Stan put on his legal name. Yeah.

-He and Fiddleford keep a close connection. When he isn’t skyping the kids on his adventures with Stan or spending time with Stan, he is talking with Fiddleford. They pretty much rekindled their bromance. He somewhat owes his life to Fiddleford for all the times the man had saved him from his own stubbornness.

-With Dipper turning down Ford’s offer of apprenticeship, Ford has turned his sights to another adventure loving child who was more local and could probably keep up with him like, if not better than, Dipper had. Wendy. However, during their first adventure out, instead of voicing her opinion on a matter, she ended up knocking sense into him with the back side of her axe. The clanging of it against the metal plate in his head echoed throughout the woods.

Example Writing Piece:

There he was. Lying flat on his back on the kitchen floor of his cabin with a bewildered look on his face as a pair of long, twiggy legs draped over his chest and hugged around his arm that was outstretched and held fast against a thin chest. Never in his life did he think he could have been taken down so easily by a man who claimed to be a complete pacifist.

“Say it!” Fiddleford panted, tightening his grip on the arm some while lying on his own back, perpendicular to Ford’s body.

“Never!” Ford snapped out of his bewilderment and started to try to struggle against the hold. “They’re nothing but a stupid fashion trend!”

“Facts are facts! Leg warmers are a practical piece of clothin’!”

“What warmth could you possibly get from leg warmers?!”

“Not all of us have paddin’ in the winter, Stanferd!” the assistant growled and twisted the arm. A yelp echoed off the walls as Ford tried to manage to get the upper hand. He should have been able to dominate this… whatever it was. He was a good bit stronger than his friend. When Ford found that he was not going to get out of the hold without resorting to dirty tactics that would hurt Fiddleford, he sighed and smacked his open palm on the floor next to him to tap out. “Ah ah! Ya gotta say it!”

“No!”

“Say it’s practical! I ain’t lettin’ go until you do!”

“Fine! Leg warmers are practical! Now get off!” Ford tried to remain irritated but then started laughing at the whole situation. All this over leg warmers? Well, now he had a topic to get under his friend’s skin other than his cubic’s cube. Maybe next time he’d get a running start.

#discord roleplay #accepted #stanford pines #gravity falls #gravity falls roleplay #submission

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stillthewordgirl · 7 years

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LOT/CC fic: Secret Santa, Ch. 4 (of 4)

Len really isn't the "Secret Santa" type. Hell, he's not really the Christmas type. But when Sara challenges him...well. Maybe this could be fun, after all...

Sorry this is so long after my original deadline! But at least it's a long one. Plot happened. ;)

Many, many thanks to @larielromeniel, who helped all this timey-whimey stuff make sense, and made some really great additions.

This can also be read here at AO3 and here at FF.net. Which I recommend, because this one chapter clocks in at about 9,000 words!

For a handful of days after they leave the Refuge, things go back to normal.

Well, as normal as they ever get on the Waverider, which means Sara and Kendra get to gleefully protect women's suffrage protestors at the White House in 1917 and get decked out in '80s finery to go dancing in 1981; Stein and Jax get mistaken as spies in 2001 Ontario, Canada; and Leonard, Mick, and Raymond go drinking with Alexandre Dumas in 1844 and accidentally wind up inspiring "The Three Musketeers."

Raymond finds a new enthusiasm, chattering away to Gideon about Palmer Tech's robotics work and how AIs could be used in robotic bodies. The AI he's speaking to is blatantly intrigued, and it becomes a common sight to come across Raymond holding up technical drawings for Gideon's sensors to examine.

Rip, during all this, is his usual aggravated self, and Len figures the distractions can't be a bad thing for the man. (Well, that's his story and he's sticking to it.) He's rather irritated by his own increased sympathy, to be honest, but the quiet conversation he'd eavesdropped on at the Refuge keeps replaying in his head, and even he isn't totally without a heart.

In between missions, he and Sara find time to finish "The Untouchables" and promptly continue to "Goodfellas." She doesn't comment on the photographs on his desk; he doesn't either. They drink more of Rip's booze, and discuss heists, and get as close to cuddling as they have yet. (Sara snuggles into his side, an ankle hooked over the top of his; he hesitates, then puts a casual arm around her shoulders. Neither of them comments on that, either.)

The day Raymond has determined is their "Christmas" is fast approaching, and Len thinks he's got a pretty good idea who'd selected whom in the whole Secret Santa thing. Sara's challenge aside, though, he's still pondering what one does for the captain who only wants one—or two—things.

And that, along with Mary's exhortation to pay attention, sends him to linger outside the doorway to Rip's study one day while the brain trust (and Mick, who insists he's "not one of those nerds, not really") is meeting. After a moment, he shrugs and requests entry, which Gideon grants with alacrity.

It's a somber group he walks in on. Rip, who's sitting in his chair with his head in his hands, looks up and sighs.

"Yes, Mr. Snart?" he says with resignation. "What fresh crisis has emerged while we've been closeted in here? Has Mr. Jackson annoyed Gideon by trying to obtain spoilers for 'Game of Thrones' again? Or have you all finally worked your way through the onboard alcohol and resorted to building a still in the rec room?"

"Now, there's an idea," Mick rumbles in the background, with a quiet (and only slightly unexpected) agreement from the professor. Raymond gives them both a look he obviously thinks is quelling, but in truth is really more comical.

Whatever. Len shrugs and focuses on the captain.

"Nope," he drawls, leaning against the wall. "Just wondered how it was going. It's one of the reasons we all hung around after all. To help with this."

Rip regards him a moment, then sighs again. (Leonard decides he's getting sick of sighs.)

"Nowhere," the captain says (with another sigh). "It's going nowhere. Thank you for inquiring." With that, he rises, reaches behind a nearby bookshelf and extracts a bottle of something potent looking. (Well, damn. Apparently they've missed a hiding spot.) "Now, I'm going to go wallow a bit, if you'll excuse me. Alert me if there are any problems, Gideon."

"Yes, captain." The AI's voice is quiet and almost melancholy, but Rip doesn't react. He just heads purposefully for the doorway and, presumably, his rooms.

The others watch him go.

After a minute, Raymond sighs. He looks at the others, then at Len, and shakes his head.

"I don't know," he says mournfully. "We've looked into all sorts of time-travel theory: tesseracts and wormholes, the Tipler Cylinder, weirder stuff, to get around the time knot. We've gone the other way and thought about a big assault on London, even getting Oliver and Barry and all the others to help, to just kind of…overpower…the timeline. Nothing pans out once we really pick it apart." He shrugs. "You know, I kinda think Rip has the right idea." As Leonard watches in bemusement, the scientist crosses to the bookshelf and peers behind it before removing a bottle. He glances at the others, shrugs, and heads to the door himself, vanishing without another word.

"Haircut was kinda thinkin' that if we manage to save Rip's wife and kid, we might be able to figure out how to save his fiancée. Err, the first one," Mick says after a few moments of silence. "Same problem. He doesn't lose her, he doesn't come on this mission, and he's not here to work on the puzzle. Around and around in circles. I don't get all the theory; Time Masters didn't think I was that bright, you know?" He casts a look at Len and Stein. "He tries and drinks that whole bottle, he's gonna regret it. I'm gonna go help." He pauses, then adds defensively, "Hey, it looked like good stuff. And Haircut with a hangover is a pain in the ass."

But Len doesn't comment, allowing Mick his excuse, and the bigger man leaves. Stein leans back in the armchair he's claimed, rubbing his eyes. After a second, Len crosses to the chair next to him, dropping into it with a huff and watching until the older man lowers his hand and focuses on him.

"Professor," he drawls, leaning back himself. "Tell me more about this 'time knot' thing Mick and Raymond mentioned." He smirks. Gotta maintain the image. "I'm curious."

Stein eyes him, then shrugs. "Well," he says, voice taking on the familiar lecturing tone, "it's also known as a causal loop…"

He explains, in slightly more involved words, exactly what Raymond had explained before—that if Rip's family doesn't die, then he doesn't go against the Time Masters, he doesn't recruit the Legends, Leonard doesn't blow up the Vanishing Point, and countless little things in between don't happen. So there's no way they can be here, trying to figure out how to save his family. "Time simply will not allow the rescue to occur. And there's really no way around it, not that we've found."

Len frowns, trying to untangle it. "I see what you mean."

Stein nods. "If we're involved at all…it can't happen. And we're already involved."

Leonard nods, staring off into the distance, turning the puzzle around in his head. The way to handle dilemmas like this, he's learned, is to try to take a step outside them, to look at them dispassionately, to look at them like…

And then it clicks.

"I think," he says slowly, "that maybe you can't think like a hero for this. Or even a scientist."

Stein regards him for a moment.

"And what," he says finally, "do you mean by that?"

"You need," Len tells him, "to think like a thief."

"Mr. Rory has been contributing ideas," Stein points out.

"And Mick is fantastic at the smash and grab," Len countered. "But this heist needs to be more subtle. Get in, get what you're after, get away."

Stein frowns. "But that still creates the paradox. We can't be…"

"What if he doesn't know we are?"

The older man peers at him. "Excuse me?"

"What if Rip doesn't know about it? Not until…after?" He stands, paces a few steps away, then turns back to Stein, who's risen from his chair. "After their supposed deaths, after he recruits us, after…everything."

"You mean, steal them from the timeline." Stein shakes his head. "We did consider that. But Captain Hunter has to see their bodies, and based on his notes, by the time he leaves them they've been dead for too long for Gideon to revive them."

Len holds up a finger. "Gotta keep thinking like a criminal here, Professor. What if we do a little… forgery? Make Rip believe he's found the bodies of his family…"

Stein's eyes widen. "But he's actually found… fakes?"

"Fakes that are real enough to send him on this crazy quest," Len nods. "Sucks to be him in the meantime, but has a payoff that makes up for it," he adds. "Could it work?"

He watches the older man consider, watches the brilliant and analytical mind behind the absent-minded professor façade pick over his possible solution. Leonard has a decent idea just how intelligent Stein is, and he respects it—he'll just never, ever admit it. Not out loud, anyway.

He sees the moment the professor comes to his conclusion, watches Stein lift his head and meet his eyes, something that might almost be hope (and the blazing love of a puzzle, something they share) inside them.

"That could work," Stein breathes. "That truly could work."

"Perfect. Just one bit of business, then." He glances up. "Gideon?"

The response is prompt. He knew it would be. "Yes, Mr. Snart?"

"Before we go any further with this, can you keep this a secret? From your captain?" He pauses. "Because there's no point at all if you can't."

Leonard paces a few more steps, the adrenaline that's always part of a well-planned heist starting to prickle in his system. He can do this. He wants to do this. As always, the questionable factor is the others who will have to be involved. "He can't have any idea. Not even a clue. You're going to have to keep quiet and you might have to lie outright. Can you do that?"

The pause is long, for Gideon. Len and Stein wait, both aware that all the possibilities hinge on her answer.

"There are…emergency protocols, for such things," the AI says finally, slowly. "This would benefit Captain Hunter immeasurably if you manage it. But someone needs to invoke them. Mr. Rory may know how. And I believe Mr. Jackson does as well, from all his research and his talks with Mr. Rory."

Len nods sharply, trying not to show the relief that rushes through him. He's already invested in this caper.

"Let's get the kid in on this, because we'll need a jump-ship pilot," he says, turning to Stein. "And he's gonna know something's up through that weird link you got, right?"

Stein nods, a faint smile on his face. "I can already feel his curiosity. Adrenaline is a very difficult thing to conceal—as is hope." He pauses. "In fact, I give him maybe five minutes before he seeks me out to see what is going on."

"Good." Pieces of the puzzle are rattling around in his head, starting to fit together. But if this is going to work…

Len turns abruptly and looks at his unexpected cohort in this heist. "No one else knows," he says decisively. "Not Mick, not Kendra. And especially not…" He adds "Raymond" just as Stein chimes in with "Dr. Palmer," and smirks as the older man chuckles.

"And Ms. Lance?" Stein says quietly, watching Len in return. "Shall we tell her?"

He's been pondering that. And the answer he has is not the one he wants to have.

"No. Not that I don't trust her," Len adds almost hastily. "It's just that the fewer people know about this, the better. We might need to let someone else in at the end…but until then, we keep it between the three of us. The four," he corrects himself with another upward glance.

"Thank you, Mr. Snart." Gideon's voice is pleased.

Len nods absently, glancing toward the door. "Is Jax…?"

"On his way."

"Good. We're going to have to put this together quick." He watches as Stein heads to Hunter's desk, sorting through the papers there. "Really quick. The longer it goes on, the more likely it is someone starts putting two and two together, asking questions, and then letting Hunter in on it, which could ruin everything."

"Hmm. Yes." The older man glances up, then. "One more thing, before Jefferson arrives and we start to plot in earnest…"

Leonard waits. Stein seems to pick over his words, but finally just shrugs, fixes Len with a direct look, and says one word. "Why?"

Len stares at him. "Why, what?"

Stein takes a seat at the desk, still looking through the papers, then glances back up at him. "The Leonard Snart I got on this ship with was in it only for himself," he says after a moment. "He wasn't shy about that. Gloried in it, even." The professor holds up a hand as Len starts to speak. "As time went on, that changed. I know that; we all do. You've saved all our lives at some point.

"But…as you've said, you look out for your crew. Even what you did at the Oculus, you did to save Mr. Rory and free our destinies. Still self-interest, of a sort, albeit very heroic self-interest."

Len twitches at the "H" word. "Spit it out, professor."

"You do not know these people. Miranda, Jonas." Stein regards him. "They are not part of your…crew. There is no possible reason for you to get involved in this except to…do a good thing. Save two lives, perhaps in some ways three. It will not be without the possibility of danger, if I understand correctly. So…why?"

He should say something snarky, Len knows. Something diverting. He's not a hero. Never has been. Never will…

Instead he just looks at the other man and cannot, for the life of him, come up with a good rejoinder.

After a moment, Stein nods once, a somehow satisfied gesture, then looks to the door as Jax stalks in, an expression on his face that somehow manages to be both intensely curious and world weary beyond his years. (It's not an uncommon expression, for Jax.)

"Hello, Jefferson," Stein says, looking down at the papers and allowing Len his conflicted thoughts. "Thank you for joining us. Now, Mr. Snart, what were you thinking about when this 'extraction' needs to take place?"

For all his protests about "geez, Gray, what're you up to now?" Jax is in for their plot the moment it's explained to him. He's able to quickly set Gideon's emergency protocols, retroactive to when Len and Stein started their conversation about time knots, and Len breathes a quiet sigh of relief when he does so. (With just a tiny part of him wondering how he could have used that information before. He's… pragmatic.)

Hunter has detailed notes on the timeline leading up to his family's death, and even Len winces as he thinks about how the man had to have compiled these, forced to bear witness to the tragedy again and again. But it makes no sense not to use them, and his crook's soul appreciates the detail and thoroughness. He and Stein start looking for a point in the narrow window before the two leave their home to try to make a run for safety they know may not exist, yet after any of Rip's rescue attempts.

It's tricky, a little, keeping the team from even suspecting, but not as tricky as it might have been once. Stein and Len play chess—both good enough to keep dragging the game out if they must—then switch to a puzzle of a different sort when any possible audience wanders off. It doesn't take long, really, to pinpoint their target time, and figure out the lay of the land for Whitechapel 2166.

Sara gives him a considering look, a few times, as he opts for chess instead of cards or movies. But she doesn't ask, and he doesn't have to lie to her.

It startles him, a little, how relieved he is at that.

Meanwhile, Gideon and Jax—under the excuse of working out some of those upgrades-begin using the ship's fabrication capabilities and the plans Raymond had showing the AI to… forge copies of Miranda and Jonas. They only have to fool two people, if they do this right: Vandal Savage, who's never met them, and Rip—and only their bodies have to fool the latter.

So: Automatons, or so Gideon calls them, able to be programmed to perform certain actions and make certain responses. Over the metal frames and computer brains, organic tissue, produced much in the way the ship had managed to reconstruct his right hand. They can even bleed, a little. They don't really have to show pain—at least Savage had done his work quickly.

The pain he'd been going for, after all, had been Rip's.

Gideon, who's helped the captain try to save his family far longer than any of them, quietly details what Rip has been able to reconstruct of Miranda and Jonas' last moments. (Len decides he rather likes the kid.) That's really the longest part of the process, and the three of them agree to leave just as soon as the decoys are completed and programmed with the actions they'll need to perform to fulfill their role.

Of course, that winds up being at the most inconvenient time possible.

"Mr. Snart?"

"What's up, Gideon?" Len gives the suit he'd acquired via the fabrication room one more once-over before shrugging and dragging his shirt over his head to change. He'd scoffed at Raymond's cheerful request that they all dress up for "Christmas Eve" dinner on the ship-but then Sara'd leaned over and whispered that she had the most amazing new dress to wear. And then she'd winked at him.

He can take a hint.

Well, he does like dressing up. (Just not on Raymond's say-so.) The fabrication room is better than any tailor, and he knows he looks damned good in the gray suit. He has his best deductions (he doesn't guess) written out and tucked in an envelope to give to Sara, as per their bet-as well as a small gift for her, something he actually acquired by legitimate means. He'll leave that here, though—no need to look sentimental around the others.

He has Rip's gift, too, meant for tomorrow: a version of the man's duster, the pattern gleaned from Gideon's files, imbued with some of the warming tech from the latest version of his parka. (The work of the lot at STAR Labs, who'd been equal parts gleeful and taken aback by his presence with the Legends.) It should be useful in colder climates. It's really too bad, though, that he hadn't been able to pull off their plan before…

Later, he'll figure that thought had counted as tempting fate.

"Mr. Jackson says it's time." Although no one else can hear them, Gideon's tone is low. "I concur."

Len stops in the act of pulling on his suit jacket. "Seriously?"

"Mr. Snart, I am always serious." The AI's tone is disapproving. "Especially about something as important as this."

"It was rhetorical, Gideon." The adrenaline is starting to flood his system again, and he starts pulling plans and logistics up in his head. "Right when everyone on this ship is actually going to be looking for us," he mutters, hanging the jacket back up and reaching for the bag he had ready for just this moment. "Peachy."

"I will cover for you as much as I can," Gideon reminds him. "With any luck, you will be able to return to only a few moments after you leave, and it will be no problem."

Len snorts as he starts to unbutton his shirt. "You rely on luck about as much as I do. Too uncertain."

"Correct. But that does not mean it does not exist."

Jax is already loitering around outside his room when Len ducks out, looking far too suspicious. Still, they're alone, so no harm done. The younger man relaxes just a touch when he sees his older cohort, leaning forward.

"The doppelgangers are programmed and in the jump ship," he says quietly. "We need to move."

"I know, kid." Len claps the younger man on the shoulder as they start to walk. "The professor?"

"On his way." Jax grins a little. "He's excited."

"Space Ranger Stein, back for a new mission, eh?" The idea makes him smile too. "Well, the whole idea here is that we get in and out without even being noticed; there shouldn't be anything we can't handle." He glances at Jax. "No Firestorm. Not unless something goes completely off the rails and it's the only way to get you two out of there unharmed. But if it comes down to that, don't hesitate."

"And what about you?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm tricky." He smirks, trying to conceal the prickle of unease at the idea of getting stuck in the city as Savage's troops roll in. Rip's notes had been…chilling. "I'll survive. It's what I do."

Jax glances over at him at the words, but shakes his head, and doesn't comment.

All three of them have drab clothes that won't elicit any suspicion in the tense, troubled area that is 2166 Whitechapel just before all goes to hell-even Jax who, if all goes according to plan, will remain at the jump ship to wait for them.

Stein is, indeed, waiting at the jump ship dock, wearing his beret from the whole "time pirate" incident again and looking altogether too pleased at his role in this adventure. The three men regard each other for a moment, and then Leonard nods, motioning to the ship. It's time to do this.

For better, or for worse.

"Len!"

Leonard freezes in place as Jax swears from the jump ship hatch and even Stein mutters something under his breath.

"What the hell are you three doing?"

Slowly, he turns. Sara's standing just a little farther down the corridor, watching them, a frown on her face. She's wearing a vivid red dress with a plunging neckline and an asymmetrical hem that shows off her legs, and Len swallows at the sight, his mouth going dry.

Partly because of how gorgeous she looks. Partly because of how pissed she is.

"And why," Sara adds, taking a step toward them, studying their clothing and frowning, obviously realizing this is no mere joyride, "didn't you invite me?"

Behind him, Stein and Jax are silent. Leaving it to him, then. Len drags in a breath.

"We can't tell you, Sara. We really can't tell you. Just…" He lets out the breath, spreading his hands. "Trust me?" Another beat. "Please?"

He never says please. Sara studies him, then glances at Jax and Stein, then back. He'd give a lot to know what's going on behind her eyes, but after only a moment or moment, she nods.

"I trust you," she tells him. "You're a jerk, and you're explaining this as soon as you can, but I trust you. OK?"

"OK." In for a penny… "Can you run interference for us with Raymond and his whole holiday spectacular? His timing sucks. If this goes right, we'll be back very soon."

Sara nods. "And if it doesn't?"

And if it doesn't… "You'll know that pretty soon, too." He's told Gideon what to tell her, if something happens to him. "We have to go, Sara."

She nods again, eyes serious, then takes another step toward him.

"If you die again doing whatever stupid-ass thing you three are going off to do," she says in a low voice, the words clearly directed at him, "I'm going to find a way to resurrect you so I can kill you again."

"Wasn't really dead the first time." But he hesitates, then nods, turning back to the jump ship and his fellow plotters, who—to his discomfort—are watching them intently.

Jax just (badly) hides a smile. But the professor looks at Len. Then looks at Sara. And then at Len. There's a steely light in the older man's eyes and Len suddenly realizes that if he doesn't say or do…something…in the next few moments, the professor will.

Ah, hell.

Taking a deep breath, he turns again. Sara's still watching him, something complicated in her gaze, and he'd give a lot to know what she's thinking. This is a lot more public than the last time he'd made any sort of overture—but at least she's not nearly as pissed at him.

He thinks.

Maybe…it's better not to use words.

He starts toward her, still searching her eyes, and he sees the moment she registers the determination in his gaze, the intent in his expression. She smiles, the look in her eyes turns warm and…and, OK, has he really been wasting all this time wondering how she felt?

Sara takes a step toward him right as he's about to close the distance, closing it herself, and he puts his hands on her hips, pulling toward him, and lowers his mouth to hers.

After the first pleasant shock of contact, Sara puts her hands on the back of his head and pulls him even closer, opening her mouth under his with a purr, and he relaxes into the kiss as he registers just how amenable to this move she is, moving a hand to her jaw and adjusting the angle just a little.

She tastes faintly sweet, like apples, like the sparkling cider Gideon can be persuaded to make now and again for special occasions, and he wants nothing more than to do this forever, to make up for all the lost time, to see what happens if he moves his mouth to her jaw, to her neck, to her shoulder…

They don't have time. Again, they don't have time.

Damnit.

"Hell of a thief?" he mutters against her lips as they regretfully break the kiss.

"Hell of a thief," Sara confirms, before darting in for one more quick kiss, then putting her hands on his chest and pushing him firmly back. "Now, go be a stupid hero again. Don't die."

"Not planning on it." Len takes one last long look, then nods, turning and heading for the jump ship.

He doesn't look back. He doesn't dare.

Stein and Jax wait at the hatch until he reaches them, then all three men pile into the ship, moving as quickly as they can. Len hazards a glance as he sits in one of the auxiliary seats, Stein dropping into the one besides him as Jax takes the pilot's chair.

They're both grinning.

"Not a word," he tells them, strapping in, trying to make his tone cold, forbidding.

"'Course not," Jax says from his seat, flipping switches as Gideon gives the ship its coordinates. "You know, though, I don't think 'Captain Cold' really works for you anymore… how about 'Captain Steal Yo Girl?' "

Stein chuckles. Len closes his eyes with a sigh.

"I think Sara would have something to say about that," he corrects mildly. "She's...her own."

Nope. He's never going to hear the end of this.

They have to bring the ship in low and dark, as Savage's troops are already surrounding the area, and it's really a good thing Jax has become such an excellent pilot. He sets them down neatly in the park they'd pinpointed. Len, stepping from the ship, scans the area, noting the stillness, the feeling of impending doom. He's not normally given to such fancies…but, well, there it is.

He's studying the nearby playground equipment—such things apparently don't change much over the years—that a young Jonas Hunter presumably has used when Stein joins him, touching his elbow to avoid startling him. There are two cloaked figures standing next to him, one taller, one smaller—the doppelgangers. He can't see their faces yet, but their silence is unnerving.

Still, if all goes right, they'll be saving two lives tonight.

Jax, who's climbed back into the jump shirt after loading the decoys, leans back out to watch them.

"You two don't do anything stupid," the young man hisses.

Leonard snorts, quietly, but nods. Then, exchanging a glance with Stein, he heads for the barely lit line of houses.

The Hunter home is one of those that's nearly completely dark. Len restrains a shudder at the thought of the woman and boy huddled in the darkness, knowing that Savage's forces are surrounding them, knowing that any help is unlikely.

The front door is locked. But he's a crook, after all. Even the very sturdy mechanism falls to him, well within the time he'd allotted for it, and he nods with satisfaction as he cracks the door open, Stein (and the doppelgangers) hovering behind them.

He's expecting it, but the sound of a gun being cocked in the darkness still makes him twitch. He freezes, putting his bare hands up in a gesture of peace, and looking toward the source as his eyes grow more accustomed to the darkness.

The dark-haired woman in front of him is holding an impressively large gun of some manufacture, nothing he recognizes. Innate curiosity makes him immediately want to examine the weapon—but that's probably better saved for a time when it's not being pointed at him.

"Explain," she says, simply. And he knows perfectly well, from what he's read about her, that if he doesn't answer immediately and in a satisfactory manner, he's dead.

"Miranda," he breathes. "I know you don't know me. But Gideon says, Code SarahConnor." He pauses, then adds: "Come with me if you want to live."

Stein sighs behind him. Len shrugs without looking. "What?" he drawls. "It's not fair Palmer was the only one who got to say that." Even while he's speaking, though, he keeps watching Miranda Coburn-Hunter. There'd been a very subtle movement in her shoulders at the code words, but her expression's still forbidding.

"Who sent you?" she asks, not lowering the weapon.

"The man born Michael Carter," he says in the next step in the code Gideon'd told them, then pauses. "In a way. It's complicated."

Miranda actually relaxes just enough to snort. "It generally is," she comments, studying him in the dark. "Gideon… he told you? And where is he?"

"Gideon identifies as female," Len tells her. "And she's on the Waverider, where she always is. Well, almost always, now. Where I'll take you now, if you just come with us."

At that, Miranda finally lowers the gun.

"All right," she says, placing it in a holster along her thigh. "We have to move anyway. I've had a go bag packed for weeks."

"And?"

She lifts an eyebrow at him, waiting for the next part of the code.

"And your son," Leonard adds. "Jonas Theodore. He was named after Jonah Hex."

Miranda studies him, and then nods one more time.

"Come out, Jonas," she says quietly. "It's OK."

There's a movement from a doorway nearby, and then part of the shadows resolves into a boy, who watches them with wary eyes. A bag is clutched tightly in one hand—and a knife in the other. Len nods approvingly, glancing back at Miranda, who's retrieved her own bag from somewhere and is scanning her home, one last time.

"I'm Leonard," he tells her as she looks back at him. "This is Martin. We…work with your husband."

"You're not Time Masters." Her words are definite, but she doesn't seem bothered by the fact. Or the fact that her words make Leonard cough and Stein chuckle. Instead, she looks to the cloaked and hooded figures behind them. "And them?"

"They're something else entirely," Stein says, moving over. "Ah…this may be a little disconcerting." He pulls off the bigger figure's cloak, then reaches for the smaller one, revealing figures in the form of the woman and boy before them, standing with blank eyes and motionless features. Jax and Gideon had programmed two stages into them, including one where they simply had to follow the others to their destination before becoming fully activated.

"Whoa," says Jonas, moving forward a little more, staring at the doppelgangers and suddenly transformed from a silent specter to an 8-year-old boy. "That is so cool."

"It's creepy, is what it is," Miranda murmurs, examining her doppelganger. "Why…"

"They won't do anything but go to the correct place at the correct time, and provide certain…responses," Stein tells her. "It's…necessary."

After another moment, Miranda nods. Then she looks at Leonard again.

"I understand there's not time now," she says, staring him down. "But I'm going to need an explanation."

Leonard snorts. "You're not the only one," he mutters, thinking of Sara. "You'll get it. Soon. But now we have to move, quickly."

"Lead on."

Jax lets out a whoop as he sees Miranda and Jonas climbing onboard, even as he starts the ship's engines. Len, looking out at the lights and shadows that mark Savage's troops as they climb silently into the night, sees them start to move, the noose that's around Whitechapel starting to close. Miranda, who'd eschewed the jump seat he'd given up and tucked Jonas, whose adrenaline was starting to flag, into it instead, moves to his shoulder, watching them too.

"We were going to run for it, when we realized," she says quietly. "Is that what…those things…are going to do?"

"Yeah." He doesn't tell her, yet, what else they're doing to do. He's pretty sure she has a very good idea.

"Guys, we're high enough," Jax tells them, reaching for the controls. "Brace yourselves."

They do. The last thing Len sees before the flickering images of a time jump surround them is a fire, erupting in the darkness, as the bombs start to explode.

Jumping into the time stream is never as rough as a time-to-time jump. Len merely shakes his head to clear it, noting with amusement that Miranda didn't even twitch.

"It shouldn't take long to get to the Waverider," Jax tells them, checking readings. "But…there's a little turbulence and I'm going to go around it, so that will take a bit. A few hours, I think. But since it worked, Gideon—and Sara—must have been able to keep everyone from figuring things out."

Miranda nods, then turns to Len with determination in her eyes. "Now. We have time. Explain."

He's pretty sure there will be no gainsaying her, and she should really be filled in before they get to the ship, anyway. "OK." He glances at Jonas, who's listening with fascination to some tale Stein is spinning for him. "He…probably shouldn't hear it. Not yet."

And then he tells her a tale, too. A true one. The story of an immortal dictator, a meteorite, and the man who'd loved her so much he'd been determined to do anything to save her—including gathering a motley bunch of people with no impact on the timeline whatsoever, and offering them the chance to be legends.

He's reminded, belatedly, that Miranda had been a Time Master herself, but he tells her about the Oculus anyway, their assault on the Vanishing Point, what he'd done—and its results.

But all sympathy for her former organization has apparently fled, if not for the way they'd forced her to resign, then with the realization of how they'd arranged for her murder and that of her child. In fact, there's satisfaction in her expression as she digests his story, and Leonard decides, again, that this is not a woman to cross.

"And you?" she says, watching him with more perception than he's really comfortable with. "How did you survive?"

He shrugs, still uncomfortable with the subject. "Don't know. Blast apparently knocked me into the time stream; they pulled me out."

"But you didn't know that. When you did it."

He shrugs again. Miranda studies him a moment longer, then puts a hand on his arm.

"Thank you," she says, simply.

By the time the Waverider, floating in the sea of green that is the time stream, appears in the viewscreen, it's been nearly four hours, much to Jax's annoyance. ("At least Sara knows why her gift's late," he sighs, leading Leonard to nod in satisfaction at one correct deduction.) Jonas has fallen asleep in his seat, head on Stein's shoulder, to the older man's amusement, and even Miranda is flagging just a little, leaning against the wall, eyes on the viewscreen. (She'd refused to sit.)

When they finally see it, though, Jax lets out a relieved noise, nodding to himself and checking more readings before grinning and turning to look at them.

"By ship's time," he says, "it's just about to be midnight."

And therefore, by Raymond's reckoning, Christmas. Leonard lets out a soft "huh" as Stein chuckles quietly behind them and Miranda lifts an eyebrow.

"Season of miracles, by many traditions," Stein says softly, glancing at the sleeping boy. "When better?"

They dock without incident, without even waking Jonas. Leonard pauses, then at a nod from Miranda, bends and lifts the child, cradled in his arms, as Jax opens the hatch. They step out together, Leonard slightly surprised to see there's no irate captain waiting.

Miranda makes a noise that's nearly a sob as she steps onto the Waverider's deck and Stein pats her shoulder in paternal fashion. Slowly, the little group starts down the corridor.

"Ms. Cobur…Miranda," Gideon says quietly, startling them. "Welcome back. I…it is wonderful to see you."

"Thank you, Gideon," Miranda whispers, trailing her fingers along the wall panels. "I…understand it's been longer than I realized."

The AI's response is drowned out, though, by Sara, who turns into the corridor at nearly a run, letting out a noise of relief as she sees them.

"I was getting wor…" she starts to greet them, words trailing off as she registers the boy in Len's arms, the woman standing nearby.

There's no way, living on this ship as long as she has, that Sara can't know who they are. She declines to comment, though. Instead, she locks eyes with Miranda for a moment before nodding, exchanging looks with Stein and Jax, and then meeting Len's gaze.

He's not sure quite what he sees there. But he's pretty sure he'll find out later.

For better or for worse.

Slowly, the little group makes its way to the bridge, where, Sara says, the rest are waiting with a certain annoyed patience for their missing teammates. She and Gideon had apparently backed each other up with a story of last-minute "Christmas" shopping hijinks, knowing that something innocuous and even faintly ridiculous would be the best way to keep the captain from actively trying to figure out what they were up to.

There's a Christmas tree up on the bridge, Len sees, and lights arrayed around the room. Raymond, who's sitting in one of the jump seats and talking to Mick, glances up as they enter, his mouth falling open. Micks just blinks at them, then grunts in satisfaction, leaning back.

"Knew you were up to somethin'," he mutters. Len smirks at him, continuing toward the man who's standing, his back to them, next to the captain's chair.

Miranda stops in her tracks when she sees him, the tears starting to fall, and Sara pauses with her, Kendra joining them. Rip is still staring out at the time stream and doesn't seem to notice that anything's off.

"Mr. Snart," he says with a sigh, holding his glass up to the light without turning. "I trust you have a good explanation for stealing my jump ship and dragging Dr. Stein and Mr. Jackson off on one of your crazy schemes. I can only hope it wasn't the heist of something truly valuable."

"It was, actually," Len murmurs, stopping right behind him. "Think you'll be OK with it, though."

Rip turns, and his glass slips out of his suddenly nerveless hand, shattering on the deck. The captain's face as he catches sight of Jonas, still sleeping but definitely, obviously alive, is a vision.

If Leonard were acting according to his usual MO, this would be the time to say something snarky. He finds, however, that he doesn't really have it in him. Not right now. Reaching the stunned captain, he gently transfers the sleeping boy to Rip, stepping back as the man's arms tighten reflexively around his son.

"Dude," Jax says quietly, watching. "You win Christmas."

"Rip!" Miranda steps around the others, suddenly stirred into action. Rip stares at her like a man in a dream as she moves toward him before finally throwing her arms around her husband and son. Jonas wakes with a sleepy mutter, rubbing his eyes before finally focusing on Rip's face and yelling, "Daddy!"

Suddenly, everyone's talking, and more than one person has tears running down their face. Rip sinks to the captain's chair with his family in his arms, and Stein and Gideon are giving everyone the abbreviated version of what happened, and all is chaos—happy chaos, for once.

Leonard's a bit startled to realize that even his eyes are damp. Stepping away from the scene, he takes a deep breath, feeling the post-heist adrenaline starting to recede.

He's not sure any other heist will ever match this.

And he's pretty sure, thinking about the future, that that's OK.

It's hours later when he looks around the bridge and realizes Sara is no longer there. It's not so surprisingly, really. It's taken quite a while for things to calm down, for all the explanations to be given and all the stories to be told. Raymond had insisted on a second feast, a treat for a woman and boy who'd been living in a near-warzone, and Kendra had gone to the fabrication room and made sure there were gifts for Jonas, who'd left nearly everything he owned behind in 2166.

Leonard, once he'd given all the explanations he was going to, had pretty much collapsed into a jump seat with a drink, watching as his teammates brought out their gifts for each other, nodding to himself as he'd confirmed his deductions.

Jax had vanished and hurried back to the bridge with a wrapped box for Sara, apologizing profusely even as she laughed at him. She'd kissed him on the cheek when she'd unwrapped the new bo staffs, made to collapse to no longer than a handspan. ("You know, the better to be all sneaky-like. Like someone else we know." He'd grinned at Leonard, who'd ignored him.)

Stein presented Mick with a tiny package, no bigger than his palm. Mick had stared at him a moment, then opened it, raising an eyebrow at the thumb drive inside. He grinned, though, when the professor told him that it contained every TV or movie iteration of Sherlock Holmes he could find—and more reading material.

"That includes the physics primer I used for students," he told the bigger man sternly, to Len's amusement. "You said the Time Masters didn't think you were all that bright, but I know from all our brainstorming sessions that you are certainly intelligent enough to learn the basic theory on your own. If you want to."

Mick leaned back in his chair and stared at Stein for a long moment, his face unreadable.

"You know, professor," he said after a moment, "I kinda think I do."

Stein himself unwraps a thin package from a gleeful Ray to find a pristine 15th issue of "Showcase" comics-the one in which Space Ranger Rick Starr premiered. It's signed by the artist to "Space Ranger Martin" and reduces the professor to a giddy 8-year-old boy in the matter of moments. Gideon promises to make him a display case for it.

She also promises to help Kendra create a rack for her gift—a mace very like the one Carter had kept when they'd gone their separate ways, composed of a light, but very strong alloy and sized to her hand. Mick had presented it with the satisfaction with which some men might have delivered a fancy piece of jewelry or a dozen roses, and Kendra'd let out a yelp of delight at the sight of it. Rip, though not nearly so long suffering as usual, finally had to ask her to stop swinging it on the bridge.

("Don't you love that it's the ladies who got the weapons on this ship? Seems just about right," Len muttered to Stein as they watched. Stein, paging avidly through his comic, had laughed and agreed.)

Kendra gave Jax a tiny box that had contained a single key. The young man had blinked at her a moment until she'd explained that it went to a 1941 Cadillac convertible coupe she'd owned during a prior life—a car that'd been put away in storage, its rent in a sealed garage paid for by her estate. ("Well, Carter's too, but he's not interested.") She'd had a flash of memory about it while they were in Chicago, and later convinced Rip to let her claim it from 1971, posing as her own granddaughter.

Jax had responded to the news that this piece of automotive history was waiting for him in one of the lower holds, ready to be restored, with wide eyes. Only the fact that there was still plentiful food and drink on the bridge had kept him in place—for the moment.

In all the happy chaos, Rip had admitted that he'd completely flaked out on getting Raymond anything more interesting than another bottle of booze-but then promised, magnanimously, an IOU for a jump-ship trip to whatever time and place the inventor wanted.

Raymond was much happier after that, but promptly became embroiled in a discussion with Mick and Len about the best usage of that IOU, a conversation in which he's not entirely sure if they're kidding or not. He's halfway convinced that he should help them steal the Mona Lisa when Mick just can't keep a straight face anymore and claps him on the back, roaring with laughter.

It was after that conversation that Len looks around and realizes that Sara is gone. Mick is now talking to Kendra and Raymond, a combination that makes Len blink. Still, their voices are low and amused, and even Kendra is grinning, and Len decides not to ask. Stretching, he rises from his seat, moving toward the door to the crew quarters.

Jax, grinning even as he yawns, is letting a still-wired Stein go on some more about their adventure today. The professor pauses and smiles at him as he passes, and the three men share another nod. They make a good team.

Rip, who's still sitting with Jonas tucked in one arm and Miranda leaning against him, both of them sleeping, looks up as he passes. The captain opens his mouth to speak, then stops and shakes his head.

There really aren't words.

Len offers him a half-smile and continues on.

"Thank you, Mr. Snart," Gideon offers once he steps into the corridor and a little more privacy. "Thank you for bringing them back to him."

"Thank you for helping." Len shrugs as he heads toward his room. "Is…is Sara in her quarters?"

"No, Mr. Snart." A pause. "However, I think you should go to yours."

His steps slow, just a little. "Huh. That so?"

"Yes."

He feels the mostly unfamiliar prickle of nerves as he pauses outside his door. Then he puts his hand on the pressure plate, stepping forward as it opens.

Sara's perched on his bed, wearing a Santa hat along with her Starling City Rockets jersey and a pair of yoga pants. He misses the red dress, but the sight of her making herself comfortable there makes him smile.

"Hey," she says, smirking at him as she leans back against the wall, "hero."

"Not a hero," he says reflexively, letting the door slide shut behind him.

"Bullshit."

Even he knows he's not going to be able to win this argument. Instead, he shrugs, crosses the room to lean against the bed, uneasily aware this is how they'd spoken once before, in her room, before the Oculus. "If I wasn't a thief," he tells her, looking up at her, "I'd never have been able to figure out how to do it."

"Hell of a thief?" Sara retorts. "You know, you can be both."

"Hmm." Len shrugs, conceding the point. "Thank you for the cocoa," he drawls, glancing away. "And the photos. Can't really share the latter, but you're welcome to the former."

Sara doesn't argue with his words, instead lifting her eyebrows at him. "I found the envelope," she says after a moment, sitting forward and motioning toward his desk. "Hope you don't mind I opened it."

"Guess it's a good thing that's all it was." And a really good thing he gave Gideon his if-I-don't-come-back message and didn't write it down.

"You got them all right. Too." She rolls her eyes. "My envelope's in my room. I can get it…"

"Nah. I believe you." Leonard stretches a little, moving to cross to the desk and palming the small package on it. "I can't really share the jersey, and it looks better on you anyway," he says, turning back around. "Could use the whetstone from time to time. You could teach me to use the bo, but I prefer my gun."

Sara smirks. "Anytime you want a lesson. But, you know…" She lifts a hand, letting him see the small, square package in her hand. "You still have one more gift left."

He blinks at it. "Yeah. Right. Well…so do you." Trying to be casual, he tosses her the box. "It's not much. And not stolen, believe it or not."

"You weren't supposed to…"

"Since when do I listen to what I'm supposed to do or not do?"

"Point." Sara hesitates, then opens the small box, revealing the pair of earrings, lapis lazuli studs, that he'd seen in the jewelry store in Ontario. They'd reminded him of her eyes.

"These are gorgeous," she says slowly, looking up at him. "Make this look…sort of silly."

"Somehow, I kinda doubt that." She doesn't seem inclined to hand him the package, though, so he drifts back toward the bed, curious despite himself. Sara just watches him, not moving until he actually sits down next to her, then extends the box.

He takes it, turning it over in his hands, then pulls off the paper, blue patterned with silver snowflakes. He lifts the lid off…

And stares in surprised silence at what it contains.

When he glances back up, he sees Sara grinning at him

"I was thinking," she says, leaning back against the wall again, "that you needed some sort of hint. To be a hell of a thief. Figured this could be that hint. I even tried to set things up so you had to 'share' it."

"Wait. 'Set things up?' " He looks down at the small green sprig of mistletoe in the box, then back at her.

Sara looks downright smug. "So, just maybe, I bribed the hell out of everyone to spill. Everyone did."

"Even Raymond? Mr. Thou-Shalt-Not-Cheat?"

"Even Ray. Once I told him why." She smiles a little. "You know, everybody on this ship seems just a little too invested in me. And you."

"And me and you?" Len reaches out and picks up the sprig, turning it in his fingers, eyes still on hers.

"MmHmm." She doesn't look away. "Then you decided to steal a kiss without any hints whatsoever. And all my bribery was for naught."

"Well," he drawls, turning toward her a little more, "you can kinda blame the professor for that."

"Can I, now?" Is she leaning toward him? She's definitely leaning toward him.

"Yep. Make him pay for it later. Still," he drawls, lifting the mistletoe and tucking it at the top of the viewscreen where, mercifully, it stays, "you know, stealing something once isn't much of a challenge."

"It's not?" Sara's tone is innocent, and there's mischief in her eyes. There's also a heat there that's making him wonder why they've wasted so much time.

"Nope." He leans toward her, smirking. "The real mark of a master thief is being able to steal something repeatedly."

"And you're a master?" she murmurs, reaching out and wrapping her fingers around the front of his shirt, pulling him toward her.

He goes willingly. "Damn right I am."

Sara's lips curve as she closes her eyes, tilting her head as their foreheads brush. "Prove it."

And he does.

Happy belated holidays to you all! CaptainCanary forever! ;)

#secret santa #leonard snart #captain canary #legends of tomorrow

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rocknrollsalad-moved · 7 years

Text

Day four of the December Prompt List: How Many Sweaters Do You Even Need?

“You really gotta get better at this code name thing Bruce Roberts,” Tony sang as he walked through the storage unit’s open door.

Trailing behind him came Peter, Ned, and Harley. Like some pied piper of nerds, Tony barges his crew into the unit and stands triumphantly in the center. Backlit by fluorescent lights, the soft but dull 40 watt light bulb overhead only adds to the effect and Bruce is wondering if Tony is going to pull out a cape next. Having won a game of hide and seek only he was playing, Tony carries on.

“What is this place?”

“Private,” Bruce snapped.

The response was enough to draw all three of the boys’ attention to Bruce as he stood there frozen in his work. Having been taping up a cardboard box, surrounded by others either waiting to be taped or waiting to be shipped.

It didn’t stop Tony though, walking toward a stack of boxes to his left. Various sizes and shapes all stacked as they’d come in. Dangerously close to toppling on one end, He pushed at a box just within reach, allowing him to get under the tape and peel it open.

“Did you boys know his real name is Robert? Don’t want to spoil any mystery here but seriously, it’s like the kid trying to hide under Parker Peters.” Tony rambled on as he found the first box was filled to it’s capacity with generic, logoless sweatshirts. The next box held the same.

The room filled with the sound of sentences starting. A simultaneous inhale around the storage unit. Ned drifted towards Peter to make a comment about what they were seeing but was silenced by Peter shaking his head. Bruce wanted to say a dozen things but was silenced by Tony continuing to ramble around the room.

“How many sweaters do you even need, Banner? You’ve got a million boxes here. Are they all sweaters? Are they all this ugly?”

“Out! Out, out, out!!” tape crinkled in Bruce’s hand as he balled a fist, shouting at everyone to leave his general area.

Peter swallowed hard, he hadn’t acclimated to Bruce’s outbursts or that that much anger was able to be in one person. Thankfully it went unseen since Ned was just staring with his mouth on the floor. This was a first for him.

Unlike the others, though, Harley walked over to Bruce calmly. The tallest of the teens Tony traveled with, he was just barely taller than Bruce but seamlessly made himself just a little smaller. Taking the tape and it’s dispenser from Bruce, he set them down on the table.

“He’s just upset because it took him this long to find you,” Harley spoke softly without being condescending. Talking to Bruce like they’d grown up together.

Heads spun so fast to look at Tony there created wind was almost audible, the deafening silence didn’t help the matter. Tony just shrugged his shoulders giving a look of incredulous disbelief and continued opening boxes.

Bruce, in that time, had calmed himself down. Taking some comfort from the fact that Harley didn’t address anything that was clearly going on with Bruce but rather moved everyone’s attention away from the lit fuse, waiting for an explosion.

“What do you do? Do you count back from ten? Think about beaches?” Harley asked

“A metronome,” Bruce responded.

There was a time when he needed an actual metronome, there in front of him to focus on, but now the visualization was enough. Sometimes he did pull out the cliche of a happy place but it was always accompanied by that steady and true ticking sound.

“This is SO awkward,” Peter crossed his arms over his chest and looked back and forth between the two older men.

“Isn’t it?” Tony asked complete with an overdramatic look. “Where was all that ten years ago? Instead, it’s all if I say panic fifty times really fast does it make you feel better? What if we talked about your childhood. Why aren’t you asking Banner about his childhood?”

Everything Tony said was comedic like he was settling up a grand joke except right now his audience was watching a death scene. No one was laughing and no one was comfortable. Ned looked ready to bolt for the door (or start taking videos). He and Peter couldn’t be any less a part of this conversation. It was a true family gathering, half of those in attendance were uncomfortable as a passive-aggressive fight broke out.

Not that Bruce understood Tony’s comment, he shook his head at the comment regarding his childhood, though. Tony knew exactly how thin of ice that topic was. And not knowing where all this was going, Bruce assumed it was nothing more than trying to get himself out of the hot seat.

The only one who knew what was going on was Harley who countered with. “Maybe we should ask about the limited edition watch instead.”

“I think I more than replaced that.”

“It was one. Of a. Kind.”

“I’m going to be hearing about this on my deathbed. Hooked up to machines and this kid is going to be going on about Hello-freaking-Kitty.”

“Uh, are we allowed to ask questions yet?” Ned interjected, putting some voice to the confusion he felt and like so many others in the room, hid feelings with an awkward joke.

“Questions come at the end, basic stuff here,” Tony answered.

He’d stopped messing with the boxes but not left the comfort provided to him in being removed from the rest of the people. There didn’t need to be a purpose for him standing there, just the distance.

“What’s going on here, Dr. Banner?” Peter tested the waters. Harley had a knack for dealing with Bruce, Peter was jealous but still took a few cues and turned things down a notch.

“If I’d wanted to explain, I’d be doing this at compound.” Bruce snapped.

Peter sighed, Ned patted him on the shoulder with a ridiculous smile. It was never going to be easy, they just weren’t meant to get along. Peter had to resign to this point. Not that this was the best time to make that assessment.

Bruce sighed, still figuring out his feelings on this situation. Watching the room react told him that he was overreacting. Nothing new for Bruce but the awareness was rare. They ambushed him in a place he’d tried to hide, doing work he didn’t want anyone to know about.

“Tony, stay out of the boxes and stay quiet. You two, I don’t know, there isn’t a lot to do in here. I guess be quiet also. And could you,” Bruce pointed to Harley, softening his voice. “Would you mind fixing the tape. Sort of made a mess of that.”

Harley nodded and walked over to untangle the tape. Tony wanted to take offense, to so badly let out some witty one-liner but there was little to go on and he knew now wasn’t the time. As much as he hated to be shut up, Bruce needed this.

Taking some safety behind a stack of boxes, Bruce started to pick at the corner of flap before he even started speaking. This was a project near to Bruce’s heart and maybe Tony was right, maybe he needed to hide himself better but he didn’t think he ran the risk of them hunting him down.

Of all the people standing in this room, Bruce was easily the most private. Though, there were a few too many open books in their crew. For the most part, however, they’d all created a safe space for Bruce. He was allowed to sit in the corner and sulk if that’s what the day held. That was the driving force behind explaining. Despite feeling completely ambushed.

Everyone’s attention was on Bruce as he stood there, picking at the box, listening to the crinkling tape being sorted out. With a heavy sigh, Bruce started to explain what they’d found.

“I don’t owe any of you an explanation. You all decided to play amateur detective and disrespect my privacy.” It wasn’t the best start but Bruce felt better for it. Harley slid a step closer but Bruce continued to talk. “But here we are. I’d like to ask that all you take this chance to start, I don’t know, being decent people and not talk about this. I don’t do this for the recognition, in fact, I’d like the opposite.”

“There’s a certain degree of anonymity afforded to be as the Hulk in that not many people are aware that Bruce Banner and The Hulk are one in the same. Meaning my alias doesn’t need to be brilliant,” Bruce tipped his head at Tony with wide eyes. “But let’s do keep assuming I’m not good at them.”

The tension in the room was enough to have the teens all uncomfortable and unsure of what to do. Each keenly aware they were watching something they shouldn’t have been. The same tension didn’t visibly affect Tony, though. Arms crossed, feet planted firmly on the ground, looking completely bored, Tony rolled his eyes.

“You turned your first name into your last name. You weren’t even trying.”

“What is it you’re looking for here?” furrowing his brow, Bruce pressed his lips together into a tight line. Daring Tony to say more, ready to attack.

Peter and Ned looked at each other in pure panic. Both of them had been lectured endlessly to not poke at Bruce and Tony seemed to be doing exactly that. The man who passed out endless warnings about how to best work with the man who was sometimes the Hulk was throwing every rule out the window.

There was going to be a fight here and neither Peter nor Ned understood why. No one in the storage unit did. Peter looked at his phone, begging for a missed call from MJ or from his aunt. Which didn’t stop him from lying. He fired off a quick text to Ned to tell him to roll with the plan before announcing to everyone and hoping no one heard.

“We gotta, uh, gotta go check about the thing...and, uh, some….thing else. For, uh, for school. Ya know, for school. We gotta go see about homework.”

“Are you insane, things are about to get good!” Ned attempted to whisper. Missing the needed hushed tone and the enclosed area not helping both Tony and Bruce gave him a look enough to have him stumbling over his words like Peter.

Backing out of the unit, breathing much easier once out from under the metal orange half rolled up door. Their whispers could be heard inside but not understood. The three left inside quickly forgot about that distraction.

Harley didn’t leave, he didn’t share the panic of his peers either. Again he took a step closer to Bruce, without words he showed the doctor there was someone on his side. Projecting calm and not yet deciding to speak, Harley stood there as support.

Not that Bruce calmed. He was seething, not a hint of anything green this was all his own anger. Anger that would have been stuffed down, locked away, and never dealt with. Something that would have been fuel for his greener half, it was that way of processing his feelings that spawned the Hulk in the beginning.

Calling Bruce a coward, holding in all that anger rather than letting it out. Arguing about what anger turned him into. But Bruce had anger. Not always as suppressed as he thought, either. And so as Bruce stood there, furious and feeling cornered, he didn’t need to lean on coping mechanisms. Rare as it was, this was really Bruce.

“You swan in here like this building has your name on it, not even bothering to come alone. Oh, no. Why would you come alone? It’s not like you had to track me down, scour the city or country, who knows, to find things with my name on it. Clearly couldn’t want this to be private. Might as well bring your band of clever little stooges,” Bruce spit the words out. Staring Tony down as his chest heaved with each quick breath.

Tony wanted to make a comment about how perfect calling the boys Larry, Curly, and Moe would be but Bruce didn’t allow him the chance.

“This is MY space! My space that you’re walking all over because I assume, you’re used to being allowed that privilege. I’m not allowing it. I could have, no I was going to explain everything but I don’t owe that to you just because you showed up.”

“You done?” Tony asked, unimpressed despite the fact that he hadn’t a clue what to do with this much frustration and hurt spewing out of Bruce. So he did what he always did, adopted a cold and aloof attitude.

“I haven’t even got started.”

“Well, I’m done. Harley, let’s go.”

“I’m going to stay and help Dr. Banner, I think he’s a little behind on his work now. An extra set of hands might be good,” Harley spoke with the confidence Peter lacked when talking to Tony. He didn’t mind telling the man no, not as eager to please. He left it open for Bruce to tell him no as well but received shrugs from both Tony and Bruce.

Tony’s silent response was meant to show how little he cared, a nonverbal ‘whatever’ as he walked out the door calling over his shoulder, “Have fun on the bus, kid.”

Bruce didn’t return to his work, he carried on his conversation with Tony. Quieter, he rambled on all the things he wanted to say and trying to articulate he wanted respect. Pacing alongside the wall, frustrated and working out his problem, Bruce carried on like he was alone.

Harley started to fix up the boxes Tony had opened. Straightening the cardboard, finding some tape to seal them back up, he worked silently and stayed focused. Even as Dr. Banner stopped pacing and quieted his rambling.

Eventually, Bruce moved back to his workstation. He watched as Harley took the box from the right, taped it up, and moved it to left. Just as Bruce had been doing when he was ambushed. Bruce watched for a few moments before speaking.

“There’s a lot of destruction in my wake,” Bruce spoke in hushed tones, a slight tremble in his words.

Putting down the tape, Harley looked at Bruce with a nod. Devoting his attention to whatever he was about to be told. Lessons learnt from the past.

“Not that I mean to but there some joke about bulls in china shops to be made here. I destroy homes, I destroy families, and I steal clothes. Regularly. This is my way of giving. Hulk smashes, Banner rebuilds. It’s not much but it’s something. I can’t give them back their homes but I can ensure they aren’t completely without. All without my name attached, not even Bruce Roberts.”

Running his fingers over the stack of boxes, looking at the work that had been done today. It was all an effort to stay ahead of the curve and Harley helped make sure of that. Focusing on the work had Bruce missing the smile growing on Harley’s face.

“I shouldn’t get into the specifics of it but my intelligence isn’t limited to simply just physics. I’ve made smart investments, I’ve been very careful with my money when I get it. Some of it is meant to set up my family so they never have to worry about anything. Most of it comes here; cleaning up after the other guy. Tony shouldn’t have come here. You shouldn’t have come here but thank you for staying.”

“We should probably head home, you’ve done plenty. Promise you don’t Hulk out on the way back and everything should be fine,” Harley teased with a comfortable chuckle that reminded Bruce of Tony.

“Yeah, the bus should be coming in fifteen.”

“Oh my god, you don’t really take the bus do you?!”

“Nah, I usually take the subway. Only a bus if I have to.”

“We can call a car! Tony probably left a car! We can’t take the bus.”

Harley’s shoulders dropped with a heavy sigh as he crossed the threshold of the storage unit. Bruce pulled down the gate and clicked the padlock he’d kept in his pocket. They headed down the hallway arguing about the bus as viable transportation and carrying a newfound respect for each other.

#joey writes #2017 december writing challenge #i'm trying really hard not to shit talk my own writing #i'll just say i'm not as proud of this as i should be but #here it is anyways

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hekate1308 · 7 years

Text

The Baggage We Carry, Chapter Six

Read it on AO3

“Sam has been pretty clingy when it comes to Dean lately“ John said one evening in the kitchen. Mary was doing the dishes, he was drying them.

“I’ve noticed it too”.

In fact, Sam had been spending time with his brother with a determination she remembered from when they had been children and he’d insisted “I don’ need friends, Mom, I have Dean!”

They were constantly in either of their rooms, going to the movies, or even playing football with a few of Dean’s friends.

Come to think of it, she wasn’t exactly sure who these friends were; but then, Dean had always been careful when it came to picking his friends. She’d certainly never heard anything about him hanging out with a bad crowd, and theirs was a small neighbourhood. If, for example, someone like that Crowley boy (she shuddered at the thought) had tried to approach them anywhere, she’d have learned about it immediately. Plus, if they let Sammy play with them despite being a few years older, they couldn’t be that bad a group.

“If he gets Dean to look at some of his home work by doing his own in his room, it might actually help” John joked and Mary snorted. There was a reason they’d stopped two or three years ago to ask after Dean’s grades. They weren’t that important to begin with, since his future was secure enough, and he was at least smart enough not to fail; and he certainly wouldn’t slip enough that his place on the wrestling team was in danger.

“He always does enough. You know our on”.

“Hell yeah I do. Did you see how he fixed the Impala a few weeks back? Knew just by the sound what was wrong. That’s my boy. But say, when did Sam start to follow his every step again anyway? I thought he’d started to hang out with the other nerds a while ago”.

“Don’t call them nerds just because they’re smart” she chastised him gently. “We can’t all be in a sports team and fix cars. And I think it began after that dinner at the Singers’. Maybe he realized again that it’s actually fun to be around Dean?”

She couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t tried the hardest to make everyone in the room smile. It was a small wonder the Singers had come to love her boys so much, she thought with no small amount of pride.

They were both growing up to be two wonderful young men, and handsome to boot, just like their father. She smiled imagining the many young girls who’d eventually find their way into the shop just so they could steal a glance at Dean; and maybe he’d think one just good enough for him, and she and John would look forward to becoming grandparents when Sam went away to become a lawyer. It would be good to keep some of the old blood in their beloved town.

Yes, Dean would make a great mechanic, and while Sam was going to become a man of the world, she would never be prouder of him than of his brother. She loved her sons equally.

“Dean, when are you going to talk to Mom and Dad?”

He groaned.

“Sammy, I am writing an essay for English”.

“No you’re not, you’re reading it again for the third time”.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing your own work instead of watching mine?”

“I am, not my fault you’re so freaking fast I couldn’t help but notice”.

Dean shrugged.

“What’s it about, anyway?”

“Jane Austen”.

Sam giggled.

“I will let you know that Miss Austen was actually a satirist who – “

“Yeah, yeah, I believe you, Dean. Still – when are you going to speak to Mom and Dad?”

“Tonight at dinner, alright?”

“Promise?”

“Promise. But Sam – you have to swear to me that you’ll let it drop if they react the way I think they will”.

“Okay, I promise” Sam said, with the full confidence of his twelve years that it wouldn’t be necessary to keep it. His parents had always been very happy to help him out when it came to homework, had listened to his problems, even trusted him enough to let him do the shopping on his own now and then; surely they wouldn’t have anything against Dean pursuing an education, or wanting something else than to take over the shop? Sure, it would be a pity if it closed down – at least Dad would think that – but if Dean was happy...

His thoughts trailed into another direction.

Sadly, he wasn’t at all quite sure that they would say the same about his friendship with Crowley... or Cas.

It was just... Crowley was known. HE was the weird guy, the one every small town has, the one part of the population with the slight chance of turning into a serial killer one of these days, the one without any friends or hobbies, just constantly slinking around.

Finding out about their friendship had been a complete accident, and it wouldn’t even have happened if their town hadn’t been small enough that one building was quite enough for all schools needed. Sam had been on the way to the restroom with a hall pass clutched in his hands, when he had heard Dean’s laughter.

Now, he’d known that Dean had nothing to do in this wing of the school, so he’d naturally assumed jhe was skipping classes with some girl and had sneakily crept forward in the search for blackmail material the next time he wanted to be taken somewhere and their parents didn’t have time.

What he had not expected had been Dean laughing about something Fergus Crowley of all people had said; and the way he looked at his brother –

It hadn’t been scary. At all. Hell, he had looked pretty normal while talking to Dean.

Sam had only had a brief glance of them before hurrying on, too confused to understand, but looking back, he thought Dean had looked different from the brother he knew, and it was this stranger that had scared him back then, this relaxed, happy stranger, and he’d tried his outmost to forget about the weird scene he’d witnessed, safe for that one time he’d mentioned Crowley at the dinner table and had later apologized to Dean.

And concerning Cas...

Everyone at the table at the Singers’ had known what was going on there. Everyone.

Sam, of course, knew there were people who were drawn to more than one gender; and that Dean was one of them he’d been suspecting for a while now. You could only watch Star Wars so often next to him without realizing he was staring at Princess Leia and Han Solo the same way.

But Dad...

Dad had now and then commented on “those”, “those” being the few gay couples who called their town home as well. And he hadn’t sounded particularly friendly while he did it.

But surely, if it made Dean happy, it had to make Dad happy too? Sam, in contrast to his brother, couldn’t believe that he’d cling so selfishly to certain beliefs as to make him miserable. Certainly he only thought it was a good idea he take over the garage because he liked to work on cars?

If Sam could see it would be a good idea to let Dean go out and learn, certainly their parents must agree?

And so, he actually found himself looking forward to dinner.

He might only have been twelve, but he’d come to know his brother anew in the last few weeks. Dean could be just as delightfully nerdy as Sam’s friend Kevin, he was super smart, especially when it came to science, and he actually had a great sense of humour.

Cas and Crowley weren’t that bad either, although why the later accompanied them to football when he clearly never had any inclination to play Sam couldn’t say. Maybe he just wanted to point out how very eccentric he could be. Sam had chosen not to ask; Dean had alluded to a pretty bad situation at home.

Completely different from their own, which was why Sam had such large hopes for tonight.

Maybe, he would think when he was a few years older and wiser, they had been too high from the start.

It would have explained neatly why they crashed so hard.

Dean, after Sam had nudged him during dessert (not pie, for once), began, “A guy was distributing flyers from MIT today at school...”

Sam had no idea if that was true or not, but it was definitely a good start.

At least he thought so until Dad chuckled.

“What did you do, make a paper plane out of it?”

Something like resignation crossed Dean’s face for a second (and Sam realized that he had seen that expression before, but had never been able to get what it meant since it always passed so quickly) but went on, “No, I actually read it and it was pretty interesting...” he trailed off, uncertain.

“Was there any studies you liked specifically?” Sam moved forward, determined to keep their talk going.

Dad sniggered and Sam threw their mother a desperate look, only to see that she was smiling benignly at her husband.

“John, Dean has every right to find a subject interesting” she finally said, but without any heat behind it.

“I didn’t say that, but come on, son – I didn’t know they had courses on chasing girls and fixing cars”.

“Not fixing cars exactly, but other stuff, like biomedical engineering...” Dean mumbled.

“Don’t you think you should start with gravity and work your way up to it?”

“Yes, sir” Dean said quietly as Sam watched in agony, unable to comprehend their parents’ vision of Dean and how unwilling they were to have it challenged.

“Dean’s really smart though” he said, “Just yesterday he helped me in physics...”

“I’m sure he can do your homework okay, but I’d prefer it if he did his own” Mom said lightly and he wanted to scream.

The worst part of it was that he knew he would have laughed along with them just a few weeks ago.

That night, when everyone was asleep, Sam was still tossing and turning, occasionally staring at the ceiling.

Eventually, he snuck into Dean’s room, just as he had when they were younger.

His brother didn’t say or ask anything, just lifted his blanket for him to get under.

“They don’t understand” he said quietly, “I just wanted to make them understand.”

“They won’t”.

“Why?”

“Because they’re sure they know what is best for us” Dean said bitterly, “I mean, did they ever ask you if you wanted to go to college?”

“I...” Sam trailed off.

Now, thinking about it, he realized he’d grown up with the knowledge he would go and hadn’t questioned it. And yes, he wanted to study, but that was just a coincidence.

What if he had felt like Dean? Hell, what if he would have been the one to want to take over the shop? Would they have listened to him? Would they have believed him? Would they have tried to?

“See, Sammy” Dean said tiredly, “Some of us are meant to leave, and some aren’t”.

“But you could.”

“Sure, i’ll just rob you of your college fund”.

Sam quietly said, “There are scholarships”.

“And what makes you think you can earn one?”

“You”.

After a pause, he repeated, “You. I have seen you read Spanish and French in the last few weeks, when you never even took French classes. I’ve heard you discuss next-level technology with Bobby. I’ve listened to you give Crowley a run for his money – and this is Crowley we’re talking about. And you even talked about Cas’ plans with him, and I know he’d love to include you in them”.

“Thanks, Sam” Dean breathed.

“Can I sleep here tonight? Like I used to?”

“’Course, Sammy.”

“Love you, big brother.”

“Love you too, Sasquatch”.

They fell asleep easily.

#destiel #my writings #high school au #smart!dean

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