#whatever it is it's got more of a heart than you have bucko

[fictionadventurer]

👶

[foreverindreamlandd]

Bucky wanted to read her fanfictions and she always declined. So he begged and begged and begged... until she finally gives up and let him read one. 'Cause who could really say no to Bucky making puppy eyes?!

Let me know what you think about it

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

WC: 1.5k (I am apparently incapable of writing a drabble)

A/N: Thank you again for another awesome request! I was basically cackling the whole time I wrote it. Want to read about how Bucky and this reader got together? Check out their origin story in my To Be Wanted series! Only warning in this one is the usual swearin’ like a sailor.

----

“See, this is why I always order Thai food. I can never do it justice.” You frown over your wok, mixing the noodles around with a wooden spoon hoping it will somehow make your creation taste better.

“I’m sure it tastes great, doll.” Bucky walks up next to you and grabs a noodle, tilting his head back as he drops it into his mouth.

His eye twitches almost imperceptibly and you groan.

“It’s good,” he coughs out, trying with all of his strength to regain his composure. “I think you just went a little too hard on the chili paste. I can feel my sinuses clearing up though, which is good, right?”

You roll your eyes. “Can you check the recipe on Pinterest again? I swear I put in the right amount.”

Bucky walks over and picks up your iPad. Right as he’s scrolling to find out if you should have used 2 tablespoons or 2 teaspoons of chili paste, a notification banner pops up and he accidently taps it, opening up your Tumblr app.

Omg! This fic is amazing! The way Bucky is there to support the reader. My heart completely melted! Your Bucky stories are amazing, Y/n! <3

Above the comment is a photo of him. It’s a shot from the news where he’s helping a civilian stand up after one of the attacks made by The Red Hand.

“Uh….love? What’s this?” He holds the iPad up to you and you shift your gaze over to him.

You drop the wooden spoon into the wok as all of the blood drains from your face. You’re frozen in place for a millisecond before you pounce on Bucky to grab the device from him. He’s never seen you move so quickly and it catches him off guard.

“Bucky give me the iPad right now,” you fling your arms toward it and he pulls it away, both amused and a bit concerned by your reaction.

“Wait, what is this? Is it something I should be worried about?”

You see a flicker of panic flash in his eyes and you stop flailing. You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh.

“No, I mean, I should be concerned because if you read that I’m probably going to combust and you’re going to dump me and run for the hills.” He furrows his brows in confusion and you slowly lift up your hand. “Can I please have that back before I have a mild panic attack?”

He stares at you, trying to gauge your emotions. All he can see is panic and sadness and it breaks his heart so he instantly gives in and hands you the iPad.

“Don’t worry about it, love. I trust you.” He leans forward to give you a chaste kiss.

You let out a pained groan against his lips and Bucky is once again confused.

“Ughhhh I hate hiding things from you.” You lock your iPad so the screen goes dark. “Okay, fine, I guess this conversation is happening. Remember when we first started dating and I, uh, mentioned I used to read and write stories about….us being a couple?”

Bucky nods, trying not to reveal any emotion to you that might make you spiral into a panic, and you continue.

“Well, that was one of those stories I wrote. I stopped looking on Tumblr basically as soon as I met you because it got all weird and meta and I got super uncomfy by the idea of reading fanfics - that’s what they’re called - about my new friend/now boyfriend Bucky Barnes. And then we started dating and I was all happy and shit and I totally forgot that those fics were still out there. Obviously I haven’t written any since then because that would be weird for...many, many reasons. Someone must have found an old one and commented on it. I’ll delete it. I’ll delete all of them. I swear. I’m so sorry, Bucky. I should have been more on top of this.”

Bucky stares at you, lips pursed and you grimace, afraid of the next words that are about to come out of his mouth.

This is so weird, Y/n. How could you do this?

No wonder you didn’t date anyone before me.

Obsessed much? (Okay, he probably wouldn’t say it like that but STILL).

No, what Bucky said next was much, much worse than what you could have imagined.

“Can I read one?”

Your mouth drops. Closes. Drops again. You blink rapidly.

“I’m sorry, I just hallucinated. What?”

Bucky points to your iPad, a sly grin forming on his face. “I want to read one of your stories.”

You take a step back from him, horror stricken as you pull the iPad closer to you as if you were protecting your collector’s edition of ‘Throne of Glass.’

“Absolutely not.”

Bucky steps forward and you step back. He chuckles. “Come onnn, doll. I want to know what your fantasies were about me before we got together.” He laughs harder as the look of horror on your face grows more manic.

“Bucky, I know you’re a super soldier and could probably punch me into the sun with your metal arm, but I promise I will fight to the death before I let you read one of these fics.”

You and Bucky continue this dance of him stepping forward and you stepping back until you feel your legs make contact with your couch and you fall back into a sitting position on its arm. Bucky uses this opportunity to tower over you, his arms resting on the couch so that you’re pinned between them.

Then, he pulls out the big guns.

His gaze softens, blue eyes shining into yours. His bottom lip puffs out and he gives you the most adorable, sexiest pout you’ve seen in your whole life.

“Please, love?” He says it with a slightly higher pitch, almost like a whine and it still sounds like honey to your ears. He even nudges your nose with his like a freaking sociopath.

Damn.

You close your eyes, let out a breath, then open them back up to him. “I hate you.”

His pout turns into a boyish grin and he gives you a quick kiss. “You love me.”

You groan. “Hopefully you still love me after this, Buck. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You stand and open up your iPad, scrolling through your masterlist and finding what used to be one of your favorite fluff pieces. You begrudgingly hand it to Bucky and he sits on the couch.

Unable to sit still during this agonizing experience, you proceed to pace around your apartment like a crazy person and resort to cleaning the inside of your microwave which you haven’t done in a few months so it’s a good thing that Bucky is reading your fic so that you could get that out of the way. You probably won’t have a boyfriend in a few minutes but at least your microwave will be spotless.

You only steal a few glances at Bucky as he reads, mortified each time as you see his eyebrows move in every possible direction. Up, down, knit together, were they criss-crossed at one point?

Finally, after what feels like the longest ten minutes of your life, Bucky lets out a soft grunt, placing the iPad down on his lap. He looks up to you and you give him a weak smile.

“Alright, let me have it, Buck. Give me your worst. Be honest. Also, I love you.”

Bucky glances down at the iPad and then back at you.

“Well, I have a few questions.”

Your right eye twitches. “Hm?”

“Now that you’ve met me, do you still think my eyes are an all-consuming storm of blue?” You groan. He grins. “Or do you think my jawline was cut from marble created by the gods?”

This time, you breathe out a laugh and you walk over to sit on his lap. You take hold of his chin.

“Bucky, I don’t think I could ever come up with the right words to describe you. The real thing is quite literally a million times better than anything I’ve ever written.”

His eyebrows raise. “That is...probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten in my whole damn life.” He leans forward and kisses you, and you sigh into the feeling of his mouth on yours, relief flooding through you.

You pull away, eyes skeptical. “So, you’re not thinking about how you can escape and never see my crazy ass again?”

“On the contrary, love, I’m thinking about how I can convince you to buy this gorgeous green dress you apparently wore as my wedding date. The one that showed off your cleavage in a way that made Bucky’s brain melt.”

The two of you burst out laughing and you lightly shove his chest. “Sure thing, Bucko. How about I work on the dress situation and you work on ordering us Thai food so that we don’t lose our taste buds from whatever the hell I just made.”

-----

Thank you for reading! Feel free to check out my other stuff here. :)

Taglist: @ceo-of-daichi @biiskuitx @forgetthisbull @eclipses-and-moondust @abcdefxkyou @jackiehollanderr @billionsofbeans @abitgryffindorky @lovelylostminds @mija-just-breathe @semlohkratz @bratty-longbottom-replies @carrotfantasimp @cremedelabrulee @ant1r3al1ty @th-e-mg@laura-moehrchen @emma-the-duck17 @sunnyjane4 @rosaline-black @parodsal000 @vicmc624 @abrunettefangirlnerd @officiallykuute @edityourwishingwell @mymindslabyrinth

***This was the original tag list for the To Be Wanted series. If you would like to be removed from the taglist for any other stories related to this series, feel free to DM me! And let me know if you would like to be *added* to the taglist for any other future stories featuring these two knuckleheads. :)

[michaelmilligan]

Hi hello Bex Jasmine @angelcaswinchester congratulations again on the 6k!! Let's party this weekend. :D

So, based on your prompt list, have some jonasbrothersnatural! (I apologize in advance, but you know I would have to be physically restrained to not make things about Midam, sooo....)

Got lost in your halo (halo)

I just wanna know

Now who's in your head, in your head?

“Michael?” Adam sighed as he stepped up to the stereo system, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can we listen to something else?”

Letting the eyes of his projection settle on Adam, Michael considered the question. “Do you know all the lyrics, then?”

Another sigh. “No.”

“Then we should keep listening.”

“Michael... We really don't need to know all the lyrics by heart,” Adam complained, soul reaching out to Michael's grace in their chest just as his hands reached for Michael's projection.

“Jack said it's crucial for us to be able to sing along to all the songs,” Michael reminded him sternly. It wouldn't do to be only half prepared! What if people made fun of Adam for not knowing all the words? Michael would have to smite them, and that might spoil the fun.

“Yeah, but Jack has never even been to a concert. He's just saying what Claire told him, and she was probably trying to mess with him.” Adam sat down on the armrest of the chair Michael's projection was in. On instinct, Michael reached out to put a hand on his leg, and Adam's arm slung around Michael's shoulders.

In contrast, Michael's next words were far less gentle – they were true, though. “You've also never been to a concert.”

Adam gasped, then punched Michael's arm. “Hey, low blow!” He pouted, and, despite his clear discontent, moved to drape his legs over Michael's lap. “You know I just didn't have the money and stuff.”

“I know, but that doesn't change the fact that you know just as little about concerts as Jack does.”

“Buddy, I've spent more time on Earth than you two combined. I think I know a little bit more about everything.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Everything,” he said flatly, just so Adam would roll his eyes.

“Not literally. Shut up.” Another punch to the arm. If it were anyone else, Michael would have been offended, but he could feel Adam's amusement ripple through their bond, saw his soul shining brightly. He would forgive him just about anything.

Quite unlike his brother, who chose that very moment to appear in their living room.

“Sup, buckos.”

“Woah!” Adam jumped, his heart rate elevating as he scrambled up from the chair (or rather Michael's lap). “Jesus, you scared me!”

Michael glared at his brother. “What do you want?”

“Keep your angel blade tucked, bro, I'm just here to deliver a message.”

Michael had made no move to draw a weapon. Not that he would need one to fight, necessarily. “Going back to your roots, then,” he said dryly, tracking Gabriel's movements. Just because he wasn't a threat didn't mean he wouldn't cause chaos.

“Not so much messenger of God these days, you know.” Gabriel shrugged. “Then again, who's even God anymore, right?”

“No one,” Michael said. Since Jack had given up a good part of his power and had separated from Amara (now also powered down), there really wasn't anyone who could claim that title.

“Anyway, Sam said to tell you there'll be some kind of barbecue or whatever.” Gabriel shrugged.

“Some kind of...” Adam and Michael shared a look. “Okay. Do you know when?”

“Uuuuh, he probably mentioned it, but...” Another shrug.

Michael huffed. As an archangel, Gabriel's memory was extremely good. If he didn't remember, or didn't say anything, that was probably on purpose.

Maybe Sam wants us to call him, Adam said through their bond, so only Michael could hear him. We have ignored some of his texts.

We had better things to do. Michael didn't feel bad for ignoring the Winchesters in the slightest. Their relationship with Adam was still tender, more born of obligation than anything else, and he wasn't sure if it would ever become warm. Didn't really care if it would.

If it wasn't for Jack, Michael would have gladly forgotten the brothers' existence altogether.

“Okay, I gotta ask,” Gabriel said, weighing his head as he listened to the most recent song in the playlist, “what are you listening to?”

More to love when your hands are free Baby put your pom poms down for me Come on shake it up 1-2-3 Baby put your pom poms down for me

The song has changed while they'd been talking. Adam groaned. “Don't ask.”

“They're a very popular band,” Michael said, as much for Gabriel as to chastise Adam on his reaction.

“Yeah, boy band,” Adam grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Not for nothing, but you're starting to sound like Dean-o.”

As Adam's face scrunched up, his emotions whirled all over the place for only a moment. Them he clamped down on them. “Bullshit.”

“See? You should learn to appreciate all forms of art so you don't end up like your brother,” Michael told him.

“Half-brother. And I'm not like him at all, okay! For example – we got cookies. You want some cookies, Gabe?” Adam moved towards the kitchen, where he'd stashed the cookies he'd baked the day before. It took him a moment to find them, because the little tin box was, to his surprise, at the very back of the wall cabinet – just where Michael had put it. The intention had been for Adam not to see the box, and possibly to forget about it until the cookies were spoiled. This tended to happen with other things, where Adam would no longer think of them as long as they were out of sight, and Michael sometimes had to remind him of them.

With putting the cookies away, Michael had hoped to keep Adam (for once) from eating too many sweets.

Apparently it hadn't worked.

Gabriel grinned as Adam handed him the box. “That's why you're my favourite brother-in-law.”

“We're not married,” Michael said distractedly. The notion was absurd – neither of them technically existed, from a human legal standpoint. Adam's fake ID said 'Adam Miller', a fact he grumbled about on a regular basis. But he also didn't want to ask Sam for a new one.

Unimpressed with that answer, Gabriel raised a single eyebrow at him. “You keep telling yourself that, bro.”

Michael wasn't telling himself anything. It was simply a truth.

Annoyed, Michael tuned his brother out and listened to the music instead.

It's only human, you know that it's real So why would you fight or try to deny the way that you feel? Oh, babe, you can't fool me, your body's got other plans So stop pretending you're shy, just come on and Dance, dance, dance, dance, oh

Well. Maybe the music wasn't any better.

“... Castiel and Dean to invite us if they get married,” Adam was saying when Michael shifted his focus back to them. “But only if they have an open bar.”

“Not sure they'd invite Michael, honestly.” Gabriel seemed amused by the idea.

“Well, they just need to invite me. People can bring a plus one to weddings, right?”

“Ya know, usually a plus one isn't an archangel who lives in your head.”

Adam made a throwaway gesture. “Screw usual.”

Gabriel grinned. “Are you gonna invite them to your own wedding too, then?”

“We can't get married,” Michael repeated. Neither could Castiel and Dean. This was all very silly.

“Michael, you know marriages are basically just promises, right?” Adam asked, smiling but still with a tight lid on his emotions, inwardly.

“No. They're legal contracts that ensure mutual support and that both people take care of any potential offspring, as well as providing tax benefits. I looked it up.”

“... You what?” Gabriel asked, eyebrows riding high on his forehead.

Of course Michael had looked into it. It was a human custom, and since Adam had been rather vague about it even though he loved movies with weddings in them, Michael had taken it upon himself to get more information.

Instead of answering Gabriel's question, Michael said: “The benefits are superfluous for us, and neither of us legally exists, so a marriage is off the table. We also don't need a contract – we already have an agreement.”

While he spoke, a smile started tucking on Adam's lips, and even though he obviously tried to keep his amusement under lock, Michael could still feel it through their bond. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

“Okay, you lost me,” Gabriel admitted. “What agreement?”

Adam and Michael exchanged an amused look. “Oh, just something we came to while we were in the Cage,” Adam said lightly.

“A mutual understanding,” Michael added.

“And what was it you mutually understood?” Gabriel prompted, seeming impatient.

Another exchanged look. Adam was barely holding down a grin.

“Well. After careful consideration on both of our parts, we came to the conclusion that...” Michael made a dramatic pause, just so Gabriel would become exasperated. It worked. “... we like each other.”

Gabriel blinked at him.

“Admittedly, it was born out of the fact that we were the only ones in the Cage. If you discount Lucifer.” Michael shrugged.

“So what, did you make promise rings for each other? Friendship bracelets? What exactly is your relationship, anyway?” Gabriel frowned.

“Our relationship is very good,” Michael said, leaning back in his armchair. “Thanks for asking.”

Adam bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“But what is it? What do you call each other?”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Well, I mostly call him Adam, since that's his name.”

Gabriel groaned in frustration. “Let me put this as clear as possible. Do you smooch or not?”

“I don't see how that's any of your business,” Michael said simply. Of course he knew what Gabriel was asking, but he had no intention of discussing such private things with him. Besides, his relationship with Adam could hardly be described in such simple terms as romantic or non-romantic. There was so much more depth to it that-

Without warning, Adam changed the song on the playlist.

We go together Better than birds of a feather, you and me

Ah. Michael liked this one. Adam had made jokes about the 'feathers' line and Michael's wings the first time they'd listened to it, but Michael had long since forgiven him. (Besides, it had been kind of funny.)

I'm a sucker for you You say the word and I'll go anywhere blindly I'm a sucker for you, yeah Any road you take, you know that you'll find me

Adam grinned as he leaned back against the armchair.

He liked that one, too, even if he would never admit it.

I'm a sucker for all the subliminal things No one knows about you (about you) about you (about you) And you're making the typical me break my typical rules It's true, I'm a sucker for you, yeah

Maybe that song was a good summary of their relationship, actually.

All he knew was that if they played this song at the concert, they were both going to sing along loudly.

And that was all anyone else needed to know, too.

[prismatica-the-strange]

My Pretty Boy

Warnings: 18+, drug use, fluff, Eddie being the cutest bisexual motherfucker

Synopsis: Eddie in a skirt

Pairings: Forged in Hellfire

"Ooo!" Eddie smiles cheekily back at Mika on her bed, "Should wear these for me more."

He snickers when she glares, shoving the panties in his hands into his back pocket before going back to digging through her dresser.

"How do you expect me to wear them if you steal them?" She asks through the blunt between her lips.

"Oh, this is cute," He muses, ignoring her question as he pulls out a black plaid pleated skirt, "How come I've never seen you wear this?"

She looks at the clothing being held aloft between his fingers and shrugs, going back to her book.

"So woefully underused, aren't you?" He pouts, "I guess I'll have to fix that."

"No way, bucko, I'm not changing," She warns, not looking up from the inked pages in front of her, "I'm super comfy."

"Who said you were going to wear it?" He snipes back, standing up, "Looks just about my size."

She glances up when she hears him unzip his pants, eyes meeting his for a moment, "You gonna be a peeping tom over there?"

She raises one hand in surrender, "Sorry." She turns back to her book.

There's an array of shuffling fabric, before he stands in front of the bed, "Whaddya think?"

She looks back at him and she's taken aback, the skirt looks really cute on him. A lot cuter than it ever did on her, which is why it was gathering dust at the back of her dresser.

"Lookin good, Munson," She smiles honestly, making him flush slightly. She sits up and tosses her book aside, taking another hit, "Give us a spin."

He does a little twirl, skirt fluttering sightly and he freezes, a happily surprised look on his face, "Oh."

"Oh?"

His eyes find hers, "I think I just realized why girls like these so much."

She giggles when he starts swaying his hips to the music coming from her radio, grinning at the way the flowing fabric moves.

She watches him get used to how it feels before interrupting, "I think it's missing something."

"Oh yeah?" His voice excited.

She hums, snatching his pants from the floor and fiddling with them. She drops them back on the floor, turning to him with a smile and his chain and belt in her hands.

He has hearts in his eyes as he quickly tucks his shirt in and adds the accessories.

"Perfect!"

He looks at himself in the mirror for a moment before shaking his head, "No, not yet."

"What are you looking for?" She asks as he rummages around her room.

"I can't-" He opens her desk drawer, making a mess as he looks through it, "I want you to do my nails black."

"Oh!" She thinks for a moment before jumping on the bed. She leans over the edge, moving a couple shoes and soda bottles out of the way, "I got it!"

He pulls her back upright and into his lap, "Paint away gorgeous."

She tries to do a nice job, but it's hard when he keeps nipping at her ear and making her laugh.

"Hold still! You're gonna make me spill it!" She scolds.

"Hey, Mika?" There's a knock at the door.

"It's open!"

It opens and her little brother riot stands in the doorway, "Mom says she's ordering pizza, she wants to know if guys want some?"

"Ohh, Pizza sounds great, but we're heading to the movies soon."

"Whatever, cool skirt, Eddie." He says as he shuts the door.

"Riot likes my skirt," He grins proudly.

"I heard," She finishes his last few fingers and caps her polish, "So what were you thinking about going to see?"

"I was thinking of that new Disney one. What was it called? The one based on Sherlock Holmes."

"Great Mouse Detective," She says before holding his hands up, "Blow."

They each blow on one set of nails until she deems them dry enough by linking her fingers with his.

"I ever tell you I love you?" He sighs, kissing her hand.

"I think so... Refresh my memory?"

"I love you." The words spill from his lips before she finishes and she leans back into him.

"I love you too."

He looks over at the clock and jumps, "We gotta go if we wanna get there on time."

"The movie doesn't start for another hour."

"I wanna stop somewhere first."

"Oh, ok. You wanna bring your pants in case it gets chilly?" She asks as she grabs her bag.

"Nah, I'm man enough to ignore the cold," He grins, hand outstretched for her to take.

He holds the door for her when they get to Family Video, walking in behind her. After they find the movies he wanted to watch he goes up to the counter, hips swaying so the skirt swishes with each step.

"What are you wearing?" Steve asks.

"New skirt," Eddie smiles with a flourishing twirl, "Jealous Harrington?"

"Jealous? Of what?" He scoffs.

"That this ass is already spoken for, obviously," He teases, leaning his elbows on the counter, back arched to stick his butt out, "Cause it looks damn good right now."

"Get over yourself, Munson," He mutters as he puts the tapes into the system.

"Why don't you get over me?" He bites his lip, leaning further over the counter, putting his weight on his arms, and kicking his feet slightly.

"I'm sorry," Mika cuts in, stepping up behind him, "But are you flirting Edgar?"

"What?" He quickly stands up straight, "N-no!"

"Oh? Praytell then," She teases, "What were you doing?"

"Just showin' off my new duds to Harrington here," He plays with the ends of the fabric, "He thinks I look beautiful, don'tcha big boy?"

Steve's eyebrows furrow in confusion when Eddie blows him a kiss.

"Alright, you two gonna get a room, or are we going to the movies?" Mika asks, "Cause I'm going whether you are or not."

"My lady beckons," He sighs, hands wrapping around his freshly rented VHSs, "Our clandestine meeting must be cut short."

"Don't be so dramatic," Mika giggles, "You can talk to your boyfriend tomorrow."

"But Mikaelaaaa!" He whines as she pulls him towards the door, "It's destiny!"

"See you later Steve!" She waves.

"I don't get them." He mutters to himself in confusion as he watches them drive away.

⁙⁘⁙⁘⁙

"So which do you wanna watch first?" Eddie asks. He follows her through her house, as he looks at the tapes in his hand.

"I wanna watch... That ass get in my bed," She says, "I'm tired."

"Already? It's barely 11:00!"

"And I have work in the morning," She groans, turning to pout at him, "Now come on, I want my Eddie cuddles."

Her hands tug at his belt and he lets out a little growl, "How am I supposed to say no to you when you pout at me like that?"

He laughs when her face breaks into a grin and she pulls him toward her room.

"I love you in that, by the way," She comments when he sticks his thumbs in the waistband of the skirt to take it off, making him freeze.

"Really?" He smirks.

"Mmm, makes your ass look nice, and don't get me started on your hips!"

"Should I... leave it on?" He asks.

"I definitely wouldn't object."

He does take off his belt and chain before climbing into bed with her.

"What are you doing?" He asks when she straddles his legs, hands playing with the skirt's hem.

"Just admirin' how pretty you look," she reaches up to tuck his har behind his ear, "My pretty, pretty boy."

He looks at her with wide eyes and pink cheeks, "I should borrow your clothes more often."

She hums as she leans forward and kisses him, "I think you should keep it. Looks better on you anyway."

Her hands start to wander and he chuckles, "I thought you were tired, Songbird."

"'M not allowed to touch you anymore?" She whines. He melts when she nuzzles up against his neck, wrapping his arms around her.

"No, of course you can sweetheart," he kisses her hair, "But if my girl is sleepy, she should snuggle down and sleep."

"Mmm... okay." She relaxes against him, "Love you pretty boy Munson... My pretty boy."

°•°•°•°

Eddie Munson/Forged in Hellfire taglist: @pointlesslygay @ofherscarlettwitchways @canis-da-fanboy

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

I’m excited to share that as a result of the ‘WIP Asks’ that I received in the past couple days, I started the next chapter of The One That Got Away, my AU angsty romance featuring Theatrebatch...

Given that the main characters are classically trained Actors (with minds that match their training and talent), I had adopted a rather dramatic, flourishing style of speech. How wonderful it feels to step back into their world, where a quill & inkpot fits their manner more than an ordinary fountain pen ever would!

Wee excerpt under the cut (because I can’t resist).

“Kettle’s on,” Phe told her brusquely. “And I’ve set a tin of biscuits on the kitchen table—not that he deserves them,” she grumbled.

Vicki quietly laid down the law. “Phe, you’re going to behave nicely--for my sake at the very least. And if you can’t do that, then we’ll be leaving. Understood?”

Ophelia rolled her eyes and let loose an exaggerated sigh, “Alright. Whatever.”

“Whatever indeed, little sister.” She took Phe’s hand and squeezed it gently, “And please do keep in mind that he’s the man I love. As I’ve never loved anyone before—nor ever shall love anyone again.”

“Always so dramatic, Virgilia,” Phe scoffed, in such a way that Vicki knew her sister would try her best. “I mean, honestly, do real people actually talk that way?”

Vicki huffed a little laugh, draping her arm around Ophelia’s shoulders to tug her close. “In my line of work, and having fallen head over heels? We most certainly do.”

When Benedict wrapped on the door, Phe insisted that she answer it herself. “My place, my rules, sis.” To which Vicki conceded, lingering at the doorjamb of the kitchen, watching as her sister opened the door. Ophelia was positively grim, despite Vicki’s request. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, bucko,” she told him, without so much as a ‘hello’ or ‘please do come in’, “She’s had her heart broken more times than she cares to admit. Your intentions better be true, and you best not break her heart, or you’re gonna have me to answer to.”

A moment of shock shadowed his features, unprepared as he was for such a vehement reaction, but he recovered quickly and delivered a low-voiced assurance, “I swear to you, Ophelia—your sister’s happiness matters more to me than anything in the world.  And in just a few weeks’ time, the whole world is going to know it.”

“If you say so,” she groused, already turning her back on him, “But the proof remains in the pudding.” Phe crossed to Vicki, adding meaningfully, “And I’ll believe it when I see it.” The whistle of the tea kettle silenced anything further she might’ve meant to say, so that she edged by her sister into the kitchen to move it off the heat.

“Oh, Ben,” Vicki exclaimed softly, launching herself his way and right into his open arms. Once enclosed in their loving warmth, she laid her cheek against his chest and felt the worst of her fears begin to subside, replaced with relief and a renewed bloom of love. “We’ve mucked things up terribly, and for the life of me I can’t think of a way to make things right.” Vicki had vowed to be strong in his presence, but now that he was holding her, all that she wanted was to melt into his arms, while letting go of the façade that all would be well.

Benedict was slowly rocking her, soothing her as only he ever could. “Hush now, my darling…my love…my dearest Virgilia,” he crooned for her ears alone, “Put that aside for now, and just let me hold you a bit…” He cupped the back of her head in one hand and brushed several kisses upon her forehead. “It’s been far too long since we’ve had even a moment to be just…” he gave a ragged, weary sigh, “… just…us…”

She tilted her head back enough to look up at his face, giving him a wee smile. “Far too long,” she agreed, biting her bottom lip in an invitation to a kiss, “But you remind me now that your embrace is the cure for whatever ails me…”

His eyes had dropped to her lips as he lowered his face to hers; his breath tickled her skin as he hesitated long enough to answer, “As your kiss always does the same for me.” And then Benedict was kissing her with all the pent-up longing that filled both their waking hours. A low hum of satisfaction rose from his chest while they dwelled in their connection; a sound so familiar and dear to her, that Vicki moaned softly in reply. 

He tasted heavenly, as they delved ever deeper into their kiss; of the spearmint gum he habitually chewed, along with traces of tea with lemon. But best of all, of promises made and promises kept—the perfect reassurance despite the odds against them, that he would find a way…they’d find the way together…to the life they had been envisioning for themselves...

(If you’re curious, you can find chapters 1-18 on AO3.)

tagging:  @writingliv​  (I’m sure you can guess why xx)

[evanstarff]

Is it okay if you could possibly do Bucky? Something with him helping you sleep like scratching your back or whatever. I’m in the mood for some super fluff for Bucky.

❝ northern wind

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 555

Summary: Bucky Barnes doesn't do pillowtalk.

Warnings: Fluff? I think?

A/N: I am behind on everything. Thank you for your prompt, my love – I see 80% of these requests from way back when were for our beloved Bucko 🖤 Please don't send me any more prompts, everyone. All filled requests so far are tagged 'evanstarff drabble'.

Masterlist in bio!

---------

Night comes slowly, sweetly – and just a little bit softly. There's a chill in the air, beneath the sliver of light in the door, creeping slowly across the floorboards and a strange, comforting quiet he can't quite place.

Long, limber legs are drawn out alongside, skin to skin, thighs like marble, carved and worshipped by god's own hands – distractions, all distractions from sleep. A little like the warmth that seems to radiate from you, from him, it's hard to say – hard to really tell or comprehend as Bucky watches your eyes.

It's after midnight, your favourite time of night and a troubling time for slumber.

"Baby, come on," his sly, silver-blue eyes tempt you and his voice is a little lower than before. "You promised you'd sleep after this."

His voice is a little low, a little husky. From the heat before, mere moments ago, bliss swelled and sealed with his mouth – on your skin, your chin, your mouth, between your pretty thighs, exactly where you wanted him, exactly where he loved to be.

"Sure," you hear the words stem from your mouth, somewhere in the hush and the haze. "But I was coerced."

There's a scoff. Soft laughter rumbling deep in his belly that he tries to hold off as his hands set shivers off beneath your skin, down your spine. Salacious bastard.

"I think you were the one doing the coercing," he replies, silver fingers never ceasing on skin. "I know you haven't been sleeping."

The meaning flies about, intention hidden, but its guise is pulled asunder. Yes, sleep was tricky, slippery too – shifting far and away in a way you found it harder and harder to grasp.

Bucky knew this, an understanding that was etched deep in his heart, sealed into his very bones. How years felt longer when you couldn't sleep, couldn't rest, when the thoughts got too much, too close to home until home was no longer what you thought it was. Sleep was two hour intervals, at times twenty minute spells carved by exhaustion. And yet they were a comfort now, simply because you could have him longer, consciously, while you were awake. It was easier to miss him when you slept.

A moment, maybe four, and then comprehension, and he's watching you again, realisation stark and astonished in his face at what he does to you – what you do to him.

"You know I'm right here," he says at last, serious now, truth spoken in the dark and the chill recedes a little more.

"I know," you reply. "I know."

I know, I know, I know. As if repeating it makes it easier to believe – the more you say it, the more it feels true, even against the shroud of doubt that clouds your mind.

Bucky breathes slowly, settles slower still, encasing you in heat, warmth, shelter that feels a little different from before. He's gentler, sweeter – his lips brushing soft on your cheeks, your jaw, carefully against your lips. Firmer now as if he's trying to assuage the fear, the anxiety from your very soul.

Silver fingers brush your brow, pretty pink lips brush your nose, and then your mouth again. Sweeter still and sleep slips in at last.

"Sleep, darlin'," he whispers.

And so you do.

---

All yelling is welcome via an Ask!

[scraregenrecs]

SC Tropefest Fest Rareships/Gen Roundup!

There were so many rare and gen fics in @sctropefest – 26 to be exact, or 31.91% of the total works! We've compiled them here for your reading pleasure, and also spotlighted some honorable mentions at the very end that were primarily David/Patrick, but featured rare sideplots. Happy reading!

A Whole Lot To Gain by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Ted/Alexis, Alexis & David, Patrick & Alexis (background David/Patrick), G, 1,721 words

A story about identity, gender, and coming out.

and my task’s but begun by treepyful, Twyla & her mother, T, 16,109 words

Twyla was seven years old and missing a front tooth when her father left.

A look into Twyla's stories.

Budd is a dud! Vote Sands. by samwhambam, Stevie/Twyla, T, 7,718 words

Her and Twyla are friends. Not great friends. But friends who get high together at parties and have known each other for a long time. And up until right now, she thought they were better friends than a shitty, mean campaign slogan.

The enemies to lovers fic where Stevie and Twyla are both running for the same seat on town council.

(but if baby, i'm the bottom) you're the top by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, E, 3,681 words

Alexis knows what people assume about them.

They see Twyla's bright café smile at work, and listen to how readily she agrees to whatever her customers want. They watch how Twyla hangs back during get-togethers, freeing up room for Alexis to take the spotlight and captivate the crowd. They notice how Alexis towers over Twyla in her heels, and how she's always one step ahead of her steady, cautious girlfriend.

But they don't know what it's like when they're together.

OR: Five times Twyla tops Alexis, and one time she lets Alexis top her.

Captive on the carousel of time by designatedgrape, Stevie/Twyla, Gwen & Twyla (background David/Patrick), T, 11,156 words

The predictability of Schitt’s Creek and the routines of the people who live here have always been a comfort to Twyla. In a life that has been full of uncertainty, she appreciates that there are things she can always count on. So when Jocelyn walks in at 3:07, it isn’t a surprise. At least, not at first.

“What can I get for you, Jocelyn?”

“Oh, I think I’m going to need an extra-large coffee to get through the rest of the day, Twyla. I’m headed right back over to the school to set up for tonight.”

Twyla nods and turns to start making Jocelyn’s coffee. “What’s tonight?”

“Graduation.”

Twyla pauses and looks back at Jocelyn. “Um, I think you might be a little confused. Graduation was last night.”

come home to my heart by davidbrewer, Ted/Alexis, G, 1,822 words

“Oh, my god — Ted?”

Her own voice echoes in her ears and she’s suddenly standing, dumbfounded, outside Cafe Tropical almost seven years ago. Watching Ted step into the bistro felt eerily similar to watching him step off that motorcycle for the first time. It’s the kind of shock that makes the sparkling restaurant tile quake under her Louboutins.

Except, this time, the feelings bubbling to her chest are now far more nuanced than she knows how to process — no amount of personal growth or number of self-care retreats with Oprah could’ve prepared her to suddenly come face-to-face with the first person she ever loved more than herself.

OR: Alexis has a blind date. It's not what she EX-pected.

Deadpool Strikes Back! How One Merc For Hire Sticks It to an Army of Goons, One Annoying Narrator, and The Worst Villain of All: Self-Doubt by doingthemost, Stevie/Ruth, T, 1,340 words

WAZZUP!?@ 🤯 If you're reading this, you're probably thinking, "What the hell? Stevie's Deadpool?!"

The answer's YES! 🤗 And she's pissed, and not just 'cause a bunch of goons hijacked her girlfriend. 🤬 No: the worst thing of all is the narrator she has to deal with all along the way. 🤡 Buckle up, buckos, it's a bumpy ride!

AND DON'T FORGET TO LISTEN TO THE PODFIC!! AND OOH, DID I MENTION THERE'S ART?!

didn’t ask for this--you freely gave it (so now i watch your mouth for both of us) by Yellow_Bird_On_Richland, Alexis/Twyla, T, 6,371 words

Alexis chops her name down to three letters like it's nothing.

Twyla thinks about it a lot.

everyday the hold is getting tighter (and it troubles me so) by budd, Stevie/Ruth, M, 1,228 words

Stevie and Ruth end up sharing the last bed at the newest addition to Rosebud Motel Group.

Gonna Watch You Shine by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Johnny & Stevie, G, 1,127 words

Found Family Feelings: The Johnny & Stevie edition.

heaven is a place not too far away by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, Ted/Alexis (Previous), Alexis/Mutt (Previous), Alexis & David, Alexis & Moira (background David/Patrick), T, 8,267 words

"Oh, but soulmate marks are real." Her mother's expression softens. "Always one-sided, unfortunately. So difficult to know when you've truly met your soulmate without a matching indicator on the part of the other person, or other persons, if you're following." Her mother winks, and Alexis makes a face. "Your father was the exact same way. The poor little lamb couldn't carry a tune until he met me!"

"So you and Dad..." Alexis' head is spinning. "You guys are, like, actual soulmates."

"Very much so." Her mother appraises her carefully. "And you must have met yours, too."

"Yeah." Alexis blinks, stunned to find that she's short of breath. "I guess so."

OR: Alexis' soulmate mark – the ability to sing – triggers when she moves to Schitt's Creek.

i always felt i must look better in the rear view by davidbrewer, Alexis & David, Alexis/Twyla, David/Patrick, Alexis & David & Johnny & Moira, T, 13,152 words

“I have everything I need right here,” Twyla says, and something very fond stirs in Alexis’s chest. “I don’t need to wish for anything else. But you… You have big dreams, Alexis, and… If anyone deserves to have their wishes come true, it’s you. I want you to have it.”

OR: When her family's past stands in the way of a career opportunity, Alexis makes a wish that completely upends their lives all over again... but is it really what she wants?

If Hell Had a Creek by High-Seas-Swan, sonlali, sunlightsymphony, Gen, T, 9,139 words

After losing everything, the Roses are forced to move to their only remaining asset, the town of Schitt's Creek. Also, the town is on the Hellmouth, and Alexis is the Slayer.

If You Could See The Other Side Of Me by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Stevie/Alexis, Stevie & David (background David/Patrick) T, 3,473 words

Stevie has a teeny, tiny little celebrity crush.

It doesn't mean anything.

In The Running by floosilver8, Stevie/Twyla, M, 3,587 words

Stevie and Twyla run against each other for Town Council.

No Dress Rehearsals by kindofspecificstore, Patrick & Ted, Patrick/Rachel, Miguel/Ted, Patrick/David, G, 3,770 words

Life Happens to Ted and Patrick, and music is one of the things that helps them through it. Discovering a mutual love for the Tragically Hip forges a kind of friendship neither of them had before.

Or, just two boys talking about their feelings in a Tim Horton's parking lot.

putting roots in my dreamland by lilythesilly, Alexis/Twyla, G, 4,078 words

“Are roses your favorite flower?” Twyla asks, setting it down.

“Mm, no, but they’re kind of my brand?” she says, picking it up to snap a picture on her phone. “And as cute as it would be to have a peony in my logo, my company isn’t named ‘Alexis Peony Communications.”

“So, Alexis...Rose?” Twyla puts together, the name sounding vaguely familiar. Alexis nods, taking a photo at a different angle. “Well, I’m Twyla. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Twyla,” Alexis says slowly. Twyla loves the sound of her name in Alexis’s voice. “Nice to meet you.”

--

a twylexis flowershop au

Rollin’ With the Homies by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, Stevie/Ruth, Ted/Miguel (background David/Patrick), T, 9,917 words

So I know it seems like I live in this, like, super privileged world. Or maybe, like, a rip-off of The O.C. – or even worse, Laguna Beach, ugh! But I swear, I have a totally normal life!

Alexis Rose is just your totally average 16 year old with two annoying older siblings, David and Stevie, and a totally normal crush on her best friend, Twyla Sands. It's completely chill. She isn't, like, totally buggin'.

AKA: the Clueless AU.

Taste of a Poison Paradise by lilythesilly, Alexis/Twyla, M, 15,107 words

“Where have you been?” Stevie yells, kicking someone in the face and sending them over the railing.

“Stealing fireworks,” Rachel grunts, grabbing a stray piece of pipe off of the floor and bringing another one of them to their knees before delivering a swift roundhouse kick to their face.

“Oooh, these are fireworks?” Alexis grins with a small shimmy. “Love that for us.”

Green vines encircle the railings and Twyla jumps over it a second later. “I got the cane plus some other stuff,” she says, tossing it and another bag to Alexis and wrapping one of the ones around a guy trying to climb the railing to get up to them, dropping him onto the floor. “Let’s go.”

--

Be gay, do crimes but make it a Harley Quinn AU

The Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch by Amanita_Fierce, dairaliz, danieljradcliffe, DelilahMcMuffin, doingthemost, fairmanor, fishyspots, foxtails, GodOfLaundryBaskets, hagface, High-Seas-Swan (FangLang), hullomoon, Januarium, KiwianaPods (kiwiana), middyblue (daisyblaine), nontoxic, RhetoricalQuestions, roguebaby, schittposting, ships_to_sail, singsongsung, SparklesMagicLightLove, sunlightsymphony, thetomkatwholived, yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana), Alexis/Twyla, Jake/Rachel, Ted/Miguel, Stevie/Ruth, David/Patrick, M, 26,226 words

Hello, I am Wendy Kurtz, proprietor of the Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch, the world’s premier spot for couples looking to get a speedy divorce and connect with other soon-to-be divorcees.

I’d like to highlight the stories of five couples, who rearranged into five other couples, from some past summer. These ten people came to the Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch with the intention of ending a marriage, and got that and so much more.

I could recount their journeys with 100% accuracy, but where’s the fun in that? Let’s let them tell us themselves.

OR: One crazy summer in Las Vegas brings the heat and then some.

The Devil’s Work is Never Done by doingthemost and schittposting, Alexis or Stevie or Twyla/Reader, Gen, 68 words

If you were faced with temptation, what would you do?

The Guestbook of David and Patrick Rose-Brewer, by sonlali, Gen, T, 900 words

“A home isn't always the house we live in. It's also the people we choose to surround ourselves with.” — The House in the Cerulean Sea

A look through the entries in David and Patrick's wedding guestbook

Through Someone Else’s Eyes by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Alexis & David, T, 1,351 words

It's all Mr Hockley's fault.

The tea was supposed to get him high, not make him wake up in his sister's body.

To the end of the reckoning by dinnfameron, Patrick & Ronnie, T, 1,308 words

He should get David a coffee. He could deliver it to the motel, see how he’s doing. His arm is raised halfway to flag Twyla down when he catches himself. David doesn’t want to see him right now. He may never want to see Patrick ever again. The thought makes him sick.

“Brewer.” Patrick turns at the sound of his name. There aren’t many people in this town who call him that, and sure enough, there’s Ronnie Lee at a table near the front. He’d missed her, somehow.

“You look like shit,” she says.

[art] you know what they say: better late than never by budd, Alexis/Twyla, G, 274 words

While unpacking her boxes to move into Alexis' apartment in New York City, Twyla finds a stash of her old business cards from when she wrote a column for young members of the LGBTQIA+ community in The Advocate.

You’d be the love of my life by doingthemost and sonlali, Alexis/Twyla, M, 6,650 words

Alexis needs a date to a last-minute Interflix party on Valentine's Day so she can make Zac Efron jealous. Naturally, she asks her best friend and crush, Twyla, to pretend to be her girlfriend for the event. What could possibly go wrong?

BONUS CONTENT:

We wanted to also highlight some fics that are David/Patrick centric, but also include a rarepair side plot! These could be a great place to start for those who haven’t dipped their toe into rarepairs yet, but are intrigued by the idea.

I Waited My Whole Life by agoodperson, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, T, 23,402 words

David is just going to have to come up with something, because there is just no way that he can let Patrick Brewer catch him going to another of the town's many weddings on his own.

Wheel of Fortune: New York Edition! by middyblue, David/Patrick and Alexis/Twyla, T, 10,521 words

Patrick spends his evenings with his new roommate Stevie watching NY1's Wheel of Fortune spin-off hosted by Johnny and David Rose, until one day he accidentally bumps into David Rose himself on the train and starts to fill in some of the blank spaces in his life.

You Happened by lilythesilly, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, T, 54,271 words

David Rose is many things: talented, creative, fashion-forward, well read—the list can go on, but at the very top of that list is Extremely Rich. So he doesn’t understand why his father is making him work at Rose Video—or why Patrick Brewer, a boy he's had virtually no interaction with since they were twelve, is suddenly always around.

An enemies-to-coworkers-to-friends-to-lovers high school au.

You Look Like a Movie, You Sound Like a Song by fishyspots, E, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, 18,683 words

David has often wished, at first seriously and then more cynically as he grew older, that his life was a rom com. It takes longer than he'd like, frankly, but the universe calls his bluff.

You’re the star at the top of my tree by schittposting, T, David/Patrick and Alexis/Twyla, 10,392 words

Patrick Brewer comes to Schitt's Creek with a goal: drive Rose Apothecary out of business so Christmas World can take over its space. He's not counting on falling for its owner.

Happy reading friends! x

[ceratonia-siliqua]

I saw you were open to prompts and I was wondering if you could write something with Android Peter?? (bonus points if smut is involved) Your writing is so good and I would love to see your take on it!

Thank you for waiting! I hope it delivers!!

Ship: WinterSpider (former Stucky mentioned)

Warnings: Nudity mentioned, some dehumanization due to the nature of androids, and some asshole Steve mentioned (sorry buddy)

“Bucky, come on. Just give it a shot.” 

“Tony-”

“You’ve been depressed for months, just take him for a few weeks. If you absolutely hate having him around then you can return him. I just finished designing a maternal instincts chip for Pepper, worst case she’d love to use him as baby practice.” 

“Fine, fine. Whatever, what do I need to do?” 

Tony beamed like Bucky had been the one begging rather than the other way around. The bastard put a hand on his shoulder as he led him out of the study and into the lab. It wasn’t a long walk, just a quick pop down the hall and a few stairs. The room was not a place he ever went, having heard legends of the absolute horror show it was. 

The rumors were on the fucking money but not in the way he had expected. 

It was filled with mechanical body parts, shocking realistic ones that left him staring as he tried to put together that they’re entirely creations of tech. He knew Tony built droids, fuck, the whole world did. It was his business. He’d gotten so good at the task in fact that he was facing some news shitstorms given the advancements in AI leading to a genuine conversation in what to do as the creations gained further and further sense of sentience. They’d tried to stop Stark, but when you have enough money to buy out the federal government, not much could be done on that front. 

“You’re gonna love him. He’s an absolute sweetheart, in fact, he’s got a heavily modified Gen 4 Sweetheart Build. One of a kind! Even perfected the synthetic curls working on him. Possibly one of the kindest AI’s I’ve ever constructed, little bit of a trickster when he wants to be though, couldn’t let you get away without a bit of a challenge-” Tony continued to go on as he practically shoved Bucky towards a side room. 

“Tony, please don’t tell me you made this android specifically for me.” He had been under the impression it was a match Tony had made after the fact, not something with genuine thought put into it. 

“Can’t just throw any random personality at you, Bucko! You need a specific set of traits and I am happy to deliver seeing as how nothing like this kiddo is like what we have on the market.” 

“Tony, you should have asked first. What if I can’t take care of this-” Machine? Man? How was he supposed to refer to this gift Tony was trying to give him? 

“Trust me! You will.” 

“Tony.” He stopped just before the closed door leading to the room where this now present anxiety was lurking.  “Why are you doing this?” 

There are several beats of silence before a word passes through the space. “Bucky… you haven’t been the same since Steve left. I want to help you move on from him. It doesn’t take a super genius to see that he broke your heart.” 

It would have been kinder to just have punched him in the gut. Steve had abandoned him. Left him for a woman from his youth after promising a life with him. There had been no reason, no suggestion Steve had been unhappy with him, yet one day he was there and the next there was a note on the coffee table and a gaping hole in his apartment. 

“Please, just try. I know you’re still trying to work through this but just try him out for a little while. You deserve to be happy, open yourself up to it. That asshole wins if you stay hung up on him forever.” 

He really fucking hates when Tony is right. 

Without another word he opens the door without Tony’s permission and steps into the room. The tiny form that lays on the fluffy duvet takes his breath away. 

The boy is lithe, so small Bucky is scared for a second that Tony has given him a child. Getting closer though he sees the marks of manhood, more defined muscle, raised cheekbones, a lack of true baby fat anywhere on his body. He couldn’t help but notice the way a set of small, smooth balls peek out from his pressed thighs. Yet to see his face and Bucky was already feeling the tugging connection, a need to know more. 

Rounding the bundle, he can’t help but pull a blanket off of one of the random shelves, covering the slip of a thing in front of him. Taking the opportunity to glimpse the face of the android coming home with him, he crouches in front of that seemingly sleeping face. 

It takes his breath away. Small noise, delicate cupids bow, wild and frenzied curls framing rosy cheeks. He desperately wanted to see those eyes, wanted to know if they were just as soft as the rest of him. 

“His name is Peter. One of the most high end models, he has features not even on the market. He can feel cold, heat, pain, pleasure. Both his throat and anal cavity are outfitted with the most expensive and durable stimulation sleeves we have available. I picked a version that everyone loves, top seller. He’s able to cum if you want him too. Knows how to groom himself but has preferences. I picked… something a little more dependent. He’ll keep you busy. Utter love bug is what he is. He’s had a little bit of ‘on’ time, just enough to calibrate some settings. His list of enjoyment is fairly open, he’s predisposed to certain things but since he’s never experienced anything he’s not sure what he likes quite yet. Gentle, kind hearted, and designed to form deep attachments, he should be perfect.” 

He is the opposite of Steve. Not the exact opposite, but it seems Tony worried about hitting too close to home and made something that was unfamiliar enough to be wholly new while still takinging into consideration what he might enjoy. Even size wise, where Steve had been bigger than him, Peter was much smaller and maneuverable. Peter could be a doll in his hands if Bucky wanted, put him in control. 

“He’s also the second ever android to be programmed with the ability to form connections of love and feel the full range of emotions available to humans.” 

Bucky’s head shot towards the other man. “Tony, that’s illegal.” 

The frown on that goatee ridden face shows just how aware of that fact he is. “I know, but only on market versions. If you self construct a droid or personally program and install the coding needed, which most people can’t, then it’s fine. I’m not allowed to sell people love, but I can give it to you for free.” 

Already stuck in this deal, already tender for the angelic little thing in front of him, he sighs. “We’re not gonna get in shit for this? He’s not gonna get disassembled if people find out?” 

“Most people aren’t even going to know he’s not human. Unless they get really close and study him, no one on the street is going to see him and think he’s anything but a regular young man out with his boyfriend.” 

“... Alright Tony, you win. Where do I sign?”

____

Becoming conscious, and aware of that consciousness, it is something humans were unprepared for in their creation of AI. After all, children forget the trauma of being born, but how do you prepare a being that can already understand the complexities of life for the sudden plunge into reality? Really, you don’t. 

Peter woke up and for the first time, was aware. His systems were all fine, green lit and all areas functional and ready to go. Yet, he didn’t move. Everything was sounds, shapes, colors, objects, things he knew but that were not familiar. It was something to take in, how do you even begin when there is so much? 

There is a pressure between his shoulders, and suddenly he is focused on what it is to feel. 

“You seem a little overwhelmed, sugar. Everything okay?”

The voice is smooth, registers as male in his system, compared to things he’s never heard but knew the sound of. 

“Yeah… just- trying to get my bearings.” At least speech wasn’t a difficulty. It was not comfortable on his tongue but they were still doable, something he could succeed at even as his vision is too full. He closes his eyes, sighing as the lack of input makes everything feel less chaotic within him. 

“Take all the time you need, I’ve got plenty to give.” 

“What’s your name?” A basic way of understanding, something so ingrained in his code that it was the easiest thing he’d done so far. 

“Bucky, James Buchanan Barnes if you wanna get technical but Bucky is fine.” 

“Bucky,” The name rolled across his tongue, smooth and buttery. It was new but old, as if he’d been told the name thousands of times. It felt like an old hat, a detail he would remember even if everything else in his memory failed. “I like it.” Something clicked, a sense of enjoyment, a rush of pleasant feelings across his skin and the delicate, hair thin wires underneath. 

That seemed to knock the man into silence. Peter reached out, groping for the being that was with him, showing him kindness despite their lack of previous introductions. Fingers grazing something slightly scratchy, he gasps, eyes flying open on reflex when a light pressure envelopes his wrist. 

The man is fuzz but Peter knows enough to know what beauty is and this man must be the very definition of it. Long hair, dark shadows across his upper lip and jaw. Blue, a color he had not realized had a name till he saw it here. He feels warm, a giggle escapes him, something he knows is a sign of his happiness, one he hopes Bucky will share in. 

Smiling is a sign, a good one. Something that makes Peter giddy as he flexes his fingers against that same scratchy surface on Bucky’s face. 

“What is this?” Scritching away with the tips of his digits. 

A chuckles, soothing and filled with a note that rolls slow and low across Peter’s ears. “A beard, you know what that is?”

He looks up the word, searching in his head for an answer until it pops up. “Oh! Yes, I do.” 

“Really are new to this, aren’t you?” 

His cheeks suddenly feel heated and an odd feeling curls in his belly as he glances away. 

“It’s okay darling,” There is a rustling of fabrics and a gentle set of lips pressed to his forehead. A sign of affection, and one Peter knows he loves the second he feels it. “We’ll get you all figured out.” 

[seiya234]

and all the trees of the field will clap their hands, 1/?

oh hey look a new multi-chaptered fic. as always, I blame @marypsue.  Very important note! This particular chapter is rated R for some gentle descriptions of married middle aged people having sex in the woods. If you want to skip that, it is in the last third of the chapter and has mostly little to do with the plot. 

---

There are three ways this story begins: the short way, the medium way, and the long way.

—————————————

The short way was one day in the dying days of autumn, Stan got a call from Ford, who was on the Atlantic right now and headed towards New Jersey and

“Have the children ever been to New Jersey? To Glass Shard Beach?”

Stan adjusted the phone in the crook of his shoulder while he began to stir the bowl of Stancakes he was making, and coughed without covering his mouth.

“I think Mark took the twins when they were, fuck, six? The kids though? Never.”

“Well. I would love to see you.”

(In this universe do Stan and Ford share the ease and togetherness of other, more canon realms? No- their paths met for but a year or two before diverging again. But there was no anger, no bitterness, no sorrow in their parting, and a good relationship is still a good relationship.)

“Me too.” An idea hatched in Stan’s mind.

“When did you say you’d be in harbor again?”

---

“I have a proposition for you kiddo.”

“And I get frightened when you start using five dollar words old man.” Dipper laid down a three card book of jacks.

“Yeah yeah yeah. Look, this year’s been fucking trash right?”

Dipper thought about it. Then he thought about it again. The kids had turned 15....and then in the year following, Willow almost died, Henry became something Eldritch and Unknowable, Willow killed a grown woman, Henry was kidnapped, and they started teaching the kids how to drive.

Their 16th birthday party, while still having some of that patented Pines (mabel) Madness, was noticeably a little more subdued and scaled down than it probably would have been.

“Ford’s coming to Glass Shard right after Christmas, and since the kids don’t have to go back until middle of January, we were thinking-“

Stan laid down a run, a 4-5-6 of hearts off of Dipper’s 7-8-9. “Why don’t you and me take the kids to see Ford?”

Dipper’s brow furrowed. “You and me- what about Mabel and Henry?”

“I was thinking that maybe they’d like some time.” Stan raised an eyebrow. “Alone Dipper.”

Dipper raised his hands defensively. “Hey! I didn’t show up for their honeymoon or anything.”

“Yeah cookie for you. And when was the last time they had more than two days alone? Uninterrupted? By the kids or you?”

“Uh.” Dipper thought about it. Then he blushed. “Uh.” He drew a card.

“Exactly.” Stan laid down a book of aces, and discarded his last card, going out. “I’ll call Ford, you tell the kids.”

“What about Mabel and Henry?”

Stan snorted. “They said yes before I could finish.”

——————————————-

The long way this story begins is in 1866, when a callow and cruel young man with a trunk of grey clothes and a bloody saber inside landed in the newish state of Oregon to start a new life.

What is this young man’s name? I could tell you, but quite frankly he was a hateful piece of shit, so I’d rather not.

Here’s what you need to know about him.

He was the bosom friend of Nathaniel Northwest- they had fought side by side in the same regiment, and when the young man needed somewhere to run fast, it was Nathaniel who promised to smooth the way in return for working for him- he was strong, right? And Nathaniel knew he wasn’t adverse to rousting out some trash.

He was handsome. He towered over almost everyone in town, arms and legs draped with muscle, beautiful blonde hair, all of his teeth, and a smile that never reached his blue eyes.

And no one ever told him no. 

He was loved by girls who didn’t know better, and enjoyed by women who knew to keep him at arms’ length. He was offered many favors, and he took advantage of each and every one. 

A few times those favors ended with squalling, squealing piglets, red and angry and helpless. And the young poacher would take them from the homes of his cast off swains, promising to deliver the babe to a cousin’s farm the next county over, to a man running a tavern who needed the help, to a childless spinster he had heard about...

He took them to a pit he had in the forest, where he tossed them in and then covered them in dirt until the squealing stopped. 

Mayhap some one suspected. But he was handsome and the friend of the town founder.

And no one ever told him no. 

A fan of taking things out of season was our young man. In his hut he scalped the fur from foxes with dugs still full of milk and bear cubs that hadn’t even had the time to accumulate fat to use. The corpses of deer laid out back, the meat rotting on the corpse while the young man only desired the antlers for his home. The little corn he bothered to plant withered on the stalk, choked by weeds in an un-hoed field. 

It should go without saying of course that any pigs or cows or horses he found wandering, branded or not, soon became his cattle. For the Huntsman took what he pleased and did what he wanted. He ate and drank and killed and fucked 

And no one ever told him no. 

Until one day when he ran into the Corduroy girl in the woods. 

The men at the tavern told him to be wary of Etta Corduroy; she had a way of riling up their wives and giving them ideas. Nathaniel Northwest told him to be wary of Etta Corduroy; she had been talking with his loggers, giving them ideas. And his current swain told him to be wary of Etta Corduroy; for she spent far too much time alone in the woods.

(they called her a witch. and since this was gravity falls, they were right.)

But still when the young man saw her gathering mushrooms near his hut, he went to her. But still his hand strayed to her breasts when she rebuffed him. But still he grabbed her throat when she tried to scratch him, tried to run away.

Because no one ever told him no.

Not if they knew what was good for them. 

So it was to his great surprise that when Etta Corduroy managed to get a hand on his chest, and spat out some unknowable word, that the world itself told him no.

It felt like a horse kicked him in the chest. It felt like the blood in his veins suddenly turned into boiling steam. Every cut he had ever gotten on his skin suddenly opened up, every muscle in his body seized up going rock hard and rigid, and it was hard to breathe, it was hard to see, it was hard to do anything at all except to fall down on the ground and writhe in pain as Etta ran away. 

She ran away and she left him there. She left him there, bleeding and screaming and sobbing, covered in blood and spit, piss and tears, raining down from his body to feed the earth below him, the pit that he had tossed so many bodies in before. 

Perhaps in his final moments the cruel callow youth should have been scared. But what he was instead was incandescently angry, because these were his woods, his to do with what he wanted, his his HIS-

And no one, ever, ever, told him no.

It was as his breath was growing shallow, as a disconcerting amount of deer began to circle around him, that he noticed the bright yellow triangle floating above him.

“... what?”

“WHOOPSIE CHAMP! LOOKS LIKE THAT WITCH DID A NUMBER ON YOU!”

“that... that...that bitch.”

“PERSONALLY I THINK THERE’S BETTER THINGS TO DO WITH ORGANS THAN EXPLODE THEM BUT THAT’S NOT WHY I’M HERE.”

The Huntsman coughed up more blood. It launched up in the air before splattering all over his face.

“YEESH. GROSS. SO YEAH, CAN’T SAVE YOUR LIFE. BUT I CAN OFFER YOU SOMETHING EVEN BETTER!”

“What.... what would it cost me?”

“ONLY THE LOW LOW PRICE OF YOUR SOUL! BUT DON’T WORRY! AS LONG AS YOU D̀O ̡W͠H͝A͟T I̢ ͜ŚAY̢ , I’LL NEVER COME TO COLLECT!”

“What do you want?”

“I’VE GOT SOME BIG PLANS FOR THIS TOWN- NEVER YOU MIND WHAT- AND I COULD USE AN ENFORCER.”

“And-?”

“AND THESE WOODS WOULD BE YOURS BUCKO! YOURS TO DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO!”

No one ever told him no.

“Deal.”

--

Roadkill County, as it eventually became to be named, was always mostly forest. Even after a century and a half of logging, the forest remained, endured, survived.

But.

But there were always parts of the forest that were stripped bare.

There were parts of the forest where the Corduroys, noted by all and sundry to be the finest woodspeople in the state, refused to go.

There were parts of the forest where children would enter and never be seen again.

This is what Bill offered the Huntsman.

(for he was no longer the Callow Callous Youth, and he was certainly no longer Bruce Wilder)

The forest was the Huntsman’s to do with as he pleased, though he could only be corporeal during the light of the full moon-

(A CONVIENENT PLOT HOLE, I KNOW KID, BUT LOOK, YOU’RE DEAD, WORK WITH ME HERE)

But during that time he could hunt and do as he pleased. Meat could pass his lips, his arrows would hit true, and any person that crossed his path was his to toy and play with until they broke. 

And to help him do his bidding....and to amuse him when he was bored and intangible, the Huntsman was gifted with the souls of the pit, tiny mewling creatures finally turned to some purpose-

(SO THESE ARE YOUR BASIC LEVEL GHOULS POWERED BY FORSAKEN CHILDREN; I ADJUSTED THE SETTINGS SO YOU CAN PLAY WITH WHAT THEY CAN DO. SERIOUSLY, GO NUTS.)

-for they were his hounds in the hunt, they could harrow and harm his prey and in turn he had something he could hunt on the nights when the full moon was absent. 

There was only one hard rule, and that was he could never, ever leave the forest that surrounded Gravity Falls.

(”Why..?” His vision was fading but before whatever happened, he just... he just needed to know-

“YOU KNOW I DON’T NORMALLY ANSWER QUESTIONS FOR FREE,” the triangle said, twirling a cane that came out of nowhere. “BUT LETS JUST SAY THERE’S THINGS IN THIS FOREST THAT COULD INTERFERE WITH MY PLANS. AND I THINK YOU’LL DO SOME GOOD WORK HERE KID. JUST DO AS I SAY AND N̤̪̦̖̥͡ͅͅE͏͖̹̫̬V̬̼̼Ḛ̛̳͓R̯̥͕͖̬ ͉̝̼̟̮͢L͔̪E̝̳͔͟A̻̟͕̝̥̖͞V̶͈̗E̛̝.”

Well. It still seemed like he was coming out on top here.)

However, eventually the thrill of the chase paled, eventually rumors of his presence spread and both the human and non-human inhabitants of Gravity Falls learned to avoid the forest at the full moon. 

He turned to playing with his Beasts, growing crueler and crueler the more his boredom grew.

Yet despite his ennui, there was one other thing that kept the Huntsman in the forest, deal or no deal. For this is what the callous young man had found out after he had died.

There was no heaven.

There was no hell.

There was just life, endless, endless, endless rounds of life.

(some would marvel at the endless chances, endless possibilities for beauty and love and good food and song but we have already established that the callous young man was not that kind of person) 

However.

Within this cycle were also the times in between.

The times where potentially very very angry people would be waiting for you. 

So he waited, and hunted, and feasted, and waited.

And one day Bill was gone, and the deal was off, and that should have been it for the Huntsman but instead of dissipating he only felt himself grow more powerful. 

For the Huntsman had so long existed independent of Bill’s plans (indeed he never saw the triangle again), had established over a century of terror a reputation, that the knowledge of his story and the raw power of the Transcendence released some of the bonds on him and his Beasts. No longer were they bound by the light of the full moon. Though they still could not leave the forest, now his prey was limitless.

He had gotten perhaps a week or two of finally being able to live again when he was cornered by the Multibear. 

“I always wanted to fell you,” the Huntsman said, his Beasts snapping and slavering at his heels. 

The Multibear did not leap to his bait. “This is your warning Huntsman.”

“Warning?” The Huntsman lifted his arm, to show his newest acquisition, a coat of red caps, some still crusted with dried blood. “I am tireless. I am deathless. And you are my prey. What warning could you possibly give me?”

“I am warning you now; refrain from killing the sentient creatures of this forest, focus your sick attentions on the deer and rabbits.”

“Or else what?”

One of the Multibear’s heads smirked. “Surely, you are aware that a new demon arose in Bill’s place?”

The Huntsman rolled his eyes. “And what of it? He’s but a mere stripling. And he and his sister have never run into me, never heard of my story.”

“Have you considered that what Bill gave you, Alcor could take away?”

“That is just wishful thinking.”

The Multibear turned- turned! exposing his back!- away, with one head saying over his shoulder, “Look inside of yourself. Dwell. And you will find that it is the truth.”

The Huntsman paused. He stood still for a solid minute.

Then the blood drained from his face.

Okay. 

Okay, he could handle this. 

He just needed to wait until Alcor stopped living in Gravity Falls, moved out of that shack that the Mad Man built and the Con Man ran.

(the Con Man had once shot the cap off of his head as he had approached his shack. The Huntsman swore vengeance... he was just going to get to it. Eventually.)

The Huntsman waited. And waited. And waited.

For no one ever told him no. 

Until one day one of his Beasts brought him news of a deal it had overheard. 

A deal whereupon Alcor would be gone for two weeks, sworn by his power and blood to do so. 

The Huntsman, who was still obviously a colossal piece of shit, had unfortunately learned patience. And cunning. And dark magic.

He had a plan to make the forest truly his. A plan to make Gravity Falls his.

And from there well.

With his power, and the power he hoped to take, who knew where a bright, callous and callow youth could go from here? 

---

The medium way this story begins is on day three of the Super Awesome Second Honeymoon No Kid Vacation. 

Days one and two were scrubbing the house top to bottom. It was boring but the kids and Stan and Dipper were going to be gone for two weeks. Two! Weeks!!! Mabel thought it best to get the boring stuff out of the way first, to best optimize their time for smoochin, shenanigans, and sparkle spaghetti night.

So Henry lifted Mabel up so she could clean the gutters, and he mopped the whole house. She scrubbed the tubs and he fixed the basement door. They trimmed some tree limbs, changed the oil in the cars, put the zipline up for the winter, and all the other little things that needed doing but got lost in the hustle of raising three teenagers and running a small business and brokering peace amongst the gnome clans.

(Mabel could have asked for Dipper to do any or all of this for a price. And while some of it was a reluctance to rely on your magic brother for everything, more of it was just plain forgetting in the day to day of life.) 

But now the chores were done, and Mabel could spring her plan into action!

Step one!

“Heyyyyy Henry.... can you put this blindfold on please?”

Henry put down his newspaper-

(oof the things she loved most about him was his hands. They were almost comically oversized, even for a man as tall as him. Beautiful pianist fingers, a long, elegant palm, and between the two a truly astounding dexterity.)

-and asked, “How long will I have to have it on?”

Mabel thought about where step two was. “Uh, twenty five to thirty minutes while we walk?”

“Can we maybe put it on right before the surprise?”

Okay that was fair. And walking through the woods blindfolded was probably a bad idea? Yeah, it probably was.

“Okay!”

Step two! 

She had Henry kneel down so that she could actually put the blindfold on. She shivered as he was for once shorter than her, shivered as her hands tied the thick scarf around his eyes and her hips bumped into his back. Shivered as she helped him back up and took his hand. 

She could not wait for this.

Step three! 

Initially she was going to use their regular tent but Mabel was worried that if she had Henry kneel down it would give the game away so she had prepped a small pavilion tent instead, with the flap already open.

“Are we almost ready?” Henry asked.

“Mmmm hmmm,” Mabel answered, quickly taking off her sweater and skirt. She had spent a whole month crocheting lingerie for this. 

She was about to tell him to take off the blindfold, and then she paused.

She put back on her skirt, and instead took her husband into a gentle hug.

“You can take it off now.”

He took it off.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“This is just.... outside?”

Mabel grinned. “I’ve always wanted to.”

Her grin faltered. “If that’s... if that’s okay? 

There was a pause. And then Henry lifted her up, making her squeak like every time he did that. He brought his mouth to hers. And that was all the answer she needed.

Step four! 

What Mabel had dreamed about, from the moment her husband had become born again into someone new, someone not quite human, was this moment. She wanted him to pin her down with not only his arms (stronger, far stronger than they used to be) but with vines that sprang from the ground. She wanted to grab onto his antlers as she rode him into ecstasy. She wanted the earth to bloom around him, to trail her finger up and down his skin and see mushrooms bloom from her fingertips. 

What happened instead was that they had some very pleasant but very normal sex, except it was on the ground and the ground was kind of hard. 

She...

Well poop Mabel. Way to go and Mabel it up all over again. 

They both were still sweaty and panty, but Mabel reached out to begin putting her clothes back on; this... didn’t go quite like she expected. 

“Thank you honey. That was a lot of fun,” Mabel said, super casually and hopefully not betraying the turmoil roiling within her.

Henry smiled. “Of course.”

(he hoped that Mabel hadn’t noticed that the Woodsman had almost come out once or twice; it was being outside and he wanted to break free, to test his strength against hers, to grow new life in these woods and no-) 

They finished getting dressed and stepped out of the tent and

Mabel froze.

“Mabel?”

Inwardly, Mabel began to curse at herself for not bringing her bat. 

“Henry...” She looked around at the heavy fog around them both, sensed the deep knowledge that they were far from where she had led them, knew to her bone that the path home was concealed.

“I think I goofed.” 

[440mxs-wife]

Test Results, Part 1

Pairing: Dean x Reader

You stared at the object in your hand, not quite believing what it was saying. You squeezed your eyes shut and waited about ten seconds. Then you opened them to check the results again, willing it to say something else. Positive. You were pregnant. What am I going to do? you asked yourself.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You have been hunting with the Winchesters for about the last eleven years. Your parents were also hunters, but they were retired from the life. They were on their way to visit you, when suddenly demons took control of the car. It skidded off the road on a patch of ice, tumbled down a steep hillside and exploded, instantly killing your parents. For some time afterwards, you remained active as a hunter. You didn't want any other family to go through what you did.

The night you met Sam and Dean, you were tracking a werewolf into the forest. You had it lined up to deliver the fatal shots with the silver bullets in your .380. Suddenly, it turned around and saw you, then lumbered towards your position. You took aim for the kill shot, but your weapon jammed. Fortunately, Sam and Dean were tracking the same creature and found its location. They were able to kill it just as it was about to slice into you with its claws.

After that, you moved into the bunker with the boys, helping with the research, patching up the injuries when needed. Sam became your best friend, someone to laugh with, who shared your love of reading, and liked the same nerdy stuff you did. Dean, well....Dean became something more.

You and Dean had been dating for about a year before the run-in with the Leviathans, and him being sent to and returning from Purgatory. You were there for him during his time as a Knight of Hell, then him coming back to fight the Darkness. Through it all, you stood by each other and you became stronger together.

On your 30th birthday, the two of you went on a late-night drive in the Impala. Dean had secretly packed a cooler with drinks and some snacks. Then he drove out to an open field by the side of a secluded road. You both shared stories from your past, and talked about your hopes and dreams for the future.

As you both lay on the hood of the Impala, he had his arm wrapped around you and yours was draped across his middle. Dean was sharing with you what he knew about the constellations, but you only had eyes for him. At some point, he turned and caught you staring at him, and you declared your love for him for the first time. He told you that he loved you too, and you shared a passionate night together. From that night on, you shared with him his room, his bed and your heart.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The sound of footsteps coming closer to the door sent you scrambling to hide the test stick. You shoved it in the front pocket of your hoodie, just as Dean was walking in the door. "There you are, sweetheart," he grinned as he drew you into his arms. "Everything okay?" he asked, brushing the hair from your forehead and kissing it.

"Sure, everything's fine," you responded.

"Sam just found us a case, so we'd better start packing," Dean stated.

You reached under your side of the bed for your duffel bag and started grabbing clothes to put in it. Socks, undergarments, flannels, T-shirts and of course, your Fed threads went into your bag. When Dean wasn't looking, you slipped the pregnancy test stick into your bag along with your toiletries.

Thirty or so minutes later, and the three of you were rolling down the highway on the trail of another monster. "So, what do we know?" you asked Sam.

"According to local authorities, it's regular people committing all sorts of crimes. Only these people swear they are innocent. Reason being, they have witnesses putting them nowhere near the crime scene at the time," Sam explained.

"Sounds like it could be a shapeshifter," you offered.

Both Sam and Dean nodded in agreement. As the Impala zoomed on down the highway, Dean looked back to see that you had fallen asleep. He smiled at how relaxed you looked, your lips slightly parted. He wanted nothing more than to pull over and let Sam take over on the driving. That way, he could climb into the backseat and hold you in his arms as you slept. Guess that will have to wait until later, he thought.

"Hey, Sam? Got something to tell you, man," Dean started, keeping his voice low.

"Yeah? What's up, Dean?" Sam asked.

"After this hunt is over....I'm going to ask her to marry me. Already got the ring and everything with me, just waiting for the right time," he replied.

"Are you kidding? That's great, Dean! I'm happy for both of you. Don't wait too long, though. You just gotta pick a time and ask her," Sam advised.

The car lapsed into a comfortable silence as it rolled down the highway to its destination. About two hours later, the Impala pulled into the Moonstar Motel parking lot. Sam went in to get the room situation handled. Dean slipped into the backseat with you and gently nudged your shoulder to wake you. You woke up on the third nudge and smiled at Dean. "Hey, baby. Time to wake up. We're here at the motel. Come on, sweetheart, up and at 'em," he chuckled.

Dean took hold of your outstretched hands and pulled you up into a sitting position. This brought you nearly nose-to-nose with him. He took the opportunity to close the gap and captured your lips with his in a slow, sweet kiss. Sam loudly cleared his throat behind Dean, causing the kiss to be broken.

You retrieved your bag from the trunk and as soon as you crossed the threshold, a wave of nausea came over you. You bolted for the bathroom, with Dean close behind. You proceeded to lose whatever food may have crossed your lips in the past 6 hours. Dean came up behind you to rub your back and keep your hair out of the way.

When it seemed like you were done, Dean helped you clean yourself up and guided you over to sit on the bed. "You okay, honey?" he asked, concern evident on his face.

"Think so, must have been something I ate. I'll be fine," you said. You unzipped your bag and started going through it for your Fed threads.

Dean put his hands over yours, stopping your search. "Hey, baby, why don't you just stay here and rest, hmm? Me and Sam can take care of talking to the witnesses, no problem. Just rest here, okay?" he asked.

"Dean, it's nothing, I'm fine now. Just give me a few minutes to change," you protested.

"I know you're 'fine', sweetheart, but I'd feel better if I knew you were back here, just taking it easy for once," he answered. "Please? For me?" he pleaded, still holding your hands.

"All right. But only because I love you and I could use a break," you relented.

"That's my girl," he grinned. He touched his forehead to yours, then kissed your temple. "We won't be gone long, and I'll bring you back some chicken soup or something," Dean promised. You laid down on the bed and watched while Dean changed into his Fed suit. "Loving the view, there, Winchester," you smirked.

"Quiet, you," Dean gently chided. "And get some rest, please? I promise we'll be back soon, baby. I love you," he said as he kissed your forehead.

"I love you too, Dean. Hey? When you get back, there's something I need to talk to you about. Stay safe, okay?" you said, your voice breaking on the last word.

"Okay, I will. Love you," he replied, caressing your cheek. Just before he closed the door, he winked and blew you a kiss.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You had been asleep for a few hours when Dean let himself back into the room. "Dean, is everything okay? Where's Sam?" you asked, suddenly awake.

"Shh, shh, calm down. Everything is fine. Sam's taking care of the cleanup from the shifter," Dean replied.

"Remember when I said I have something very important that I need to talk to you about? Um....Well, the reason I got sick earlier is....oh Chuck....Dean, I'm pregnant," you declared.

"WHAT?!?!?" he thundered. "How could you let this happen?!?" Dean shouted.

"Hey, excuse me, bucko, but it takes two to tango. You're just as much a part of this as I am," you snapped.

"You know what kind of childhood I had, and now you want to bring a child into this world? I can't believe this!" Dean ranted.

"I know what your childhood was like, Dean, and this would be our chance to do things right. I see this as a blessing, not a curse. I wish you would be happy about it too," you responded.

"Well, I can't be. You have to choose: life with me and you get rid of the child, or keep the child and you're on your own," he stated.

"Dean, you can't possibly expect me to make a choice like that! After all we've been through, don't you think we can find a way to make this work? Together?" you asked.

"You don't understand, sweetheart. It's not a matter of whether we 'can' work through this. It's a matter of whether I 'want' to work through it. And I don't," Dean retorted. "I'm going out. When I get back, you'd better have made your choice," he threatened. The door slammed, and Dean was gone.

Staring at the motel door, you couldn't believe what had just happened. How could this have gone so wrong? Sure, you figured Dean might be a little scared at the prospect of becoming a father. But, ultimately, you thought he would come around and be happy about bringing another life into this world. One that was a little of him and a little of you.

You pulled out your duffel bag and repacked anything you'd taken out of it. After you zipped it up, you slung it over your shoulder. Just before you closed the door, you turned and looked around. "Goodbye, Dean," you managed to choke out.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back in the shifter's lair, Sam and Dean were trying to work themselves free. They had to finish the job of killing the monster and get back to you at the motel. Sam had almost managed to get out of his restraints, but then they heard the shifter's footsteps. They decided to pretend that Sam was still fully tied up until they could make their move.

"Well, boys, I gotta tell you. That lovely little lady you've got back at the motel is quite the spitfire. After I take care of you, I'm going right back there to have some fun," the shifter taunted.

"You bastard! You leave her alone!" Dean thundered.

"Oh, now careful, Dean. You wouldn't want me to harm her at all, would you? Not someone in her condition, anyway," the shifter mentioned.

Dean could see Sam creeping up on the shifter, so he tried to keep it talking. "What do you mean, 'her condition'?"

"She didn't tell you? Huh. Oh well, it's probably better that way. Baby's probably not even yours anyway. Sweet thing like that, I'm sure she has 'em lined up around the block to take their shot with her," the shifter continued to taunt.

"Baby?" Dean whispered. That must be why she was sick earlier, what she wanted to talk to me about, he thought. He returned his attention to the shifter, but Sam had already killed it while it was talking to Dean.

"Quick, Sam, get me out of here, we gotta get back to the motel and make sure she's okay," Dean said. "Sam....do you think it was telling the truth? About her being pregnant?" he asked his brother.

"I dunno, Dean, but let's go find out," Sam said as he released Dean from his restraints.

When they got back to the room, Dean was devastated to find out that you had gone. "She could be anywhere, Sam. I have to find her. I need to know that she's okay," Dean remarked.

While Dean was changing out of his Fed suit, Sam went to ask the motel owner if she had seen you. The motel owner explained that you had asked for a ride to the nearest bus station, but that had been a few hours ago. Sam thanked her for the information and ran back to the room to tell Dean. By the time he had gotten back to the room, Dean was all packed up and ready to head out to find you.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your best friend Ruthie met you at the bus station and took you back to her house. You told her what had happened, about Dean's reaction to your pregnancy. Naturally, she was ready to punch Dean for hurting you like that. You decided that in the morning, you would go back to the bunker one last time to pack up your things. After that, Ruthie said you could stay with her until you figured out what you were going to do next.

The drive back to the bunker was a solemn one. You didn't feel like talking, and Ruthie didn't want to upset you or cause any undue stress. She asked if you needed any help with packing, but you said you wanted to do this yourself.

You had just zipped up the first duffel bag when you heard Sam and Dean's voices. You continued to pack, waiting for Dean to check for you in your old room. There were some things you forgot to say to him back at the motel, and you weren't leaving until you had said them.

"I'll just be a minute, Sam, then we can head back out to go look for her. Need to switch out the dirty clothes for clean ones," Dean told his brother. He noticed that the light was on in your room, but the door was closed. He quietly crept up to the door. He pressed himself flat to the wall outside your room, grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open. Good thing he returned to his previous position against the wall. If he hadn't, he would've been hit in the face by a flying shoe from you.

"Get out, Dean!" you snapped. "You and I are through! After what you said at the motel, I never want to see you ever again!" you shouted.

"Wait, that wasn't me! Sam and I got captured by the shifter, so it wasn't me you were talking to, I swear! Look, silver knife," he said as he dragged the blade across his arm, with no ill effects but a cut in his arm. "Can I please come in?"

You collapsed on the bed, exhausted after what you'd been through in the past few days. "Fine," you relented. Dean eased himself into the room to see you with your hands covering your face and your shoulders shaking from crying. Dean put his arm around you and pulled you up onto his lap to try and comfort you. "Tell me what happened, sweetheart," he asked softly, kissing your temple.

You explained everything, from the shifter coming back to the motel room, to you thinking it was him, so you told him about the baby. To his reaction at the news and his ultimatum. "I couldn't believe what you were saying to me, but then again, I had no idea how you would react. I was mostly sure that you would be happy about it. But, there was a small percentage chance that maybe you wouldn't be," you explained in a small voice.

"Oh, my love, I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I'll admit, I was a bit scared when that shifter told us, but I wouldn't change it for the world. Will you please stay?" he implored.

You turned to look Dean right in the eye. "Are you sure you're ready for this? To become a father? Either we're in this together, all the way, or I'm on my own," you declared.

Dean paused before responding to your questions. "I'll admit, I'm having mixed feelings about becoming a father. One part of me is terrified that I won't be a good one, that I'll make the same mistakes as my father did with me.

"But," he grinned, "the other part of me is over the moon with joy," he said as he placed a hand on your stomach. "In here is a new life. A fresh start, a chance to do things our way. A little being made up from a part of you and a part of me. Together, I know we can do this. How does this sound to you, sweetheart?" he asked.

Tears streaming down your face, you crashed your lips into his, your hands cradling his face. His hands roamed up and down your back as your mouths moved in sync with each other. Your lips parted just enough to allow his tongue to mix with yours. You were overjoyed to have your boyfriend by your side on this new journey into parenthood. "It sounds perfect. I love you so much, Dean," you told him.

"I love you so much, momma-to-be," he replied. "Hey, how did you get here? I know you took a bus from the motel, but none would've stopped here," he remarked.

"I took the bus from the motel to Ruthie's house. She brought me here so that I could pack up my stuff before you got back. She said I could stay with her until I decided on my next move. Matter of fact, she's outside in her car, waiting for me," you explained.

"I'll send Sam upstairs to let her in. I have a little bit of unfinished business to take care of with you, and it's best if she's here as well," he explained. The panicked look on your face disappeared when Dean winked at you and squeezed your hand.

Ruthie marched down the spiral staircase and into your room under a full head of steam. "What is going on in here?!? I thought you were packing! Winchester, if you've said anything more to hurt her, I'll--" you cut her off.

"Whoa, Sis, hold on there a minute," you said as you held out your hands to stop her. "It's not what I thought it was. Here's what happened." You went on to explain about how it was a shapeshifter that had taken on Dean's appearance. And it was the shifter that had said all those awful things to you in the motel room. You told her that you and Dean have talked it out, and he's completely on board with being a father. You also mentioned that Dean wanted her here so he could tidy up some "unfinished business" with you.

Ruthie got settled into one of the chairs in your room as did Sam. Dean set you down gently from his lap to the bed and got down on his knees in front of you. "Sweetheart, we've known each other for a long time. Every day of my life is a little bit brighter because you came into it. And now you're carrying our baby and I couldn't be happier," Dean said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. "I'd like to ask you to carry something else with you as well. Will you marry me and carry the name Winchester with you?"

Dean opened the box to reveal the most gorgeous engagement ring you had ever seen. You were so overcome with emotion that all you could do at first was nod your head. "Yes, Dean! Yes, I will absolutely marry you!" you exclaimed as soon as you could find your voice. Dean swept you up into his arms and gave you a long, passionate kiss.

"I love you so much, Mr. Winchester," you said softly.

"And I love you, future Mrs. Winchester," Dean replied.

[igirisuhito]

Title: We’re not in a position to be loved Relationship(s): Shuichi Saihara/Ouma Kokichi Rating: Mature Summary:  Numerous prompts sentence writing meme from Tumblr, except I have no idea how to be brief. Exploring the dynamics with Oumasai, mostly during strange encounters after trials. They have very mixed feelings about eachother Trigger Warnings: Brief mention of power dynamic imbalance

[Ao3 Link]

——— ☆ • ♧ • 🃏 • ♧ • ☆ ———

Angst

Knowing that it was Kokichi's body in there seemed so much more painful than if it had been Kaito. He died as he lived, confusing, lying, leaving everybody with a burning hatred. 

Shuichi bit at the insides of his cheeks to quell the tears building up in his eyes. It wasn't fair, he deserved at least some closure on Kokichi's actions. 

Nobody deserved such a painful death, not even him. 

AU (in which Kokichi wasn't given the memories he was meant to be nor was his mind wiped) 

Click

"W-why did you lock the door?"

"Hush Shuichi.” Kokichi spoke quickly, spinning around and poking Shuichi hard in the chest. “Now tell me, you're suspicious of your 'Ultimate Detective' status, right?" 

He flinched, surprised by the sudden touch. "...Do you want me to hush or answer the question?"

Kokichi pouted dramatically. "THE QUESTION!!" 

"Okay um… I guess? Like, I only solved a single case..."

"Right! But you don't remember how you got here?" 

"N-no I don't..."

Groaning loudly, Kokichi’s hands threaded into his hair as he began to ruffle it angrily. "Fuck me, this sucks!"

Shuichi watched the other boy closely as he continued his temper tantrum, angrily stomping across the room and beginning to shuffle through the mounds of paraphernalia in his room. There was evidence from the two previous trials, a whiteboard, large stacks of paper and other… things.

"Aha!" He yelled excitedly as he pulled out a brightly coloured tablet from underneath some stuff stolen from the warehouse. He slapped the device into Shuichi's hands aggressively. 

In his shock, Shuichi blinked a few times. "Is this a kubs pad...?" 

"Yes." Kokichi nodded once.

"So this is..."

"My motive video, yes."

"I don't think we should-" 

Before Shuichi had even finished his sentence, Kokichi had leaned over his shoulder and tapped the screen, bringing the video to life.

"Alright! Back by popular demand, it's time for the motive video! Who's the most important person in *your* life? And now, without further ado…

Kokichi Ouma, the Ultimate Supreme Leader… 

He caused mayhem the world over as the leader of the secret organisation, D.I.C.E. And by 'mayhem,' I mean petty nonviolent crimes and harmless pranks. 

Anyway, Kokichi had ten loyal goons working for him. These goons were like friends and family… The most important people in his life…"

"See all these guys? I don't know any of 'em! I didn't run some secret organisation, I used to just harass stupid idiots on the internet!" Kokichi muttered away, words spat with frustration as he yanked the tablet from Shuichi's hands. "I don't have those memories like the rest of you do!" 

"So you're…not the Ultimate Supreme Leader?"

"No! That's what I'm saying!" 

"Then why do you act like that…?" 

"Well I'm sure if the mastermind realised I knew they'd kill me in a heartbeat!" With a sigh, Kokichi threw himself onto his bed. "Jesus what kind of guy does awful things and then follows it up with 'That's just what an Ultimate Supreme Leader does!'? I was dropping hints to you the whole time! You really aren't an Ultimate Detective, huh?" 

Shuichi didn't know what to say. He simply stood there, mouth hanging agape as he watched the boy spill his secrets. 

A scary realisation gripped at his heart, and he twisted his head around to look to the corner of the room. "B-But what about-"

"I busted all the cameras in the room the night we got here.” Kokichi muttered casually, crossing one leg over the other and twirling a strand of hair in his hand. “Doesn't seem like Monokuma's noticed yet." 

Right right. That's logical. Shuichi took a moment to process the new information in his mind. 

"So this, our memories, our talents, everything. It's all fake?" He brought his hand to his mouth, mumbling to words behind his fingers. "What Kaede died for… isn't even real?" 

"Right on bucko!” A snigger slipped past Kokichi’s lips as he grinned bitterly. “This shit's all fabricated by somebody who was dumb enough to forget to plant those fake memories in my brain and wipe the real ones!" 

Shuichi's chest tightened. He could feel some sinking feeling in his gut, twisting and winding its way up to strangle his windpipe, threatening to make him break down in tears right there. He swallowed the feeling down, transforming his sadness into a burning anger. "W-why didn't you say something earlier… before everybody died?" 

"Again, I didn't want to inform the mastermind. The only people trustworthy enough were Rantaro and maaaybee you. I really just took a punt when it came to telling you, which was pretty risky especially since it was your girlfriend who clocked the only person I could trust." Kokichi sighed again, glancing up at the ceiling.

Biting hard into his lip, Shuichi found himself running out of words to say that didn't involve screaming at the boy. "So, what now then?" 

Kokichi smiled sadly. "I don't know. I really don't know. "

Crack

"Focus focus… what turned the handle of the sliding lock?" 

Shuichi muttered to himself as he pressed his foot down on the accelerator, speeding up in preparation of hitting the wOuman representing the correct answer. 

He had driven this taxi quite a few times now and was getting used to it. The neon lights, the oversaturated sunset, those massive billboards. 

Thunk

Ah, yes the killer used the Katana…

As he was headed out of the city, he began to realise that he really couldn't tell what was on those billboards. Driving at 100km/h makes it hard to see anything but the road ahead. 

He lifted his foot from the pedal slightly, allowing himself to get a better look at whatever nonsense was being displayed there. 

Above Shuichi was a large picture of Kokichi Ouma, dressed not in his usual 'attire' if you can even call it that, but rather a frilly pink apron.

A frilly pink apron and nothing else. 

Shuichi floored it. Ignoring the sensation of his heart beating out of his chest. 

"No wonder I'm meant to drive so fast… gay thoughts can't travel at such high speeds…"

Future

"Heeeey Shuichi! You're lookin pretty depressive." 

Shuichi ignored the teasing voice.

"Heeeeeeeey." Kokichi plopped himself down on the desk where Shuichi had been working, making it impossible for him to focus on the work in front of him and ignore the boy. 

Shuichi sat back in his chair, remaining completely silent. 

"Why are you ignoring me? I thought you loved me, Shu?" 

Gritting his teeth, Shuichi slapped his hands over his ears. A mixture of rage and sadness boiled up inside his chest causing tears to prick at the corners of his eyes.

"Shut up! SHUT UP! YOU'RE DEAD!"

He shook his head aggressively. When he finally opened his eyes again, Kokichi was no longer there to start back at him sadly, like he were something pathetic.

 First time

A sight Shuichi had never expected to see greeted him upon entering the classroom. 

A shorter man with purple hair and a strange white getup had a robotic looking boy pinned down against a desk, their hips pressed closely together. Just what had he walked in on?

"So you do have a dick?" The shorter boy grinned mischievously

"Yes-! No-!” The robotic boy refuted, struggling to push the other off “Please just let go of me!" 

The purple haired boy seemed to become aware of Shuichi's presence in the room. He twisted his head around in a creepy owl-like way to glance at him, before letting go of the robot boy with a big grin.

"Well hello there! I don't believe we've met!" The boy scurried over to Shuichi, grabbing his hand and giving it a firm, quick shake. "Kokichi Ouma, Ultimate Supreme Leader! It's lovely to make your acquaintance." 

Shuichi stepped back a little, surprised by the sudden change in personality. "Oh, um… Shuichi Saihara.... Ultimate Detective."

Kokichi’s expression changed suddenly, leaving him looking rather surprised. "Oh? A detective? I'm sure we're not going to get along, but I look forward to seeing more of you!"

"R-right..." Shuichi stammered, mind still reeling from the quick succession of events. 

Humour 

This scene was one Shuichi had… not been expecting.

He wanted to have a more extensive look around his lab, especially with what sort of dangerous stuff was in there. Maybe find a way to lock all that poison away so nobody could access it? 

But his plans had come to a halt. There was something wrapped up in a blanket sitting in front of the fireplace. 

Somebody was in his lab. 

Shuichi stepped into the room quietly, it seemed whoever was there hadn't noticed his presence. Thank god they'd left the door slightly ajar… 

He picked up the sand timer from the coffee table. It was quite weighty and could definitely do some damage if struck with a strong enough force. Gripping the metal tightly, he began to lightly stalk his way over, careful to not startle the intruder as he made his way closer. 

The detective's heart was racing. Who would even be in his lab? Surely nobody was stupid enough to stir trou-

…

It's Kokichi, isn't it?

This only made things worse. Should he be scared or angry? Was Kokichi going to attack him? Did Kokichi already know he was there? Did he plan to try and poison somebody?! 

Possibilities were beginning to pile up in Shuichi's mind, exacerbating his anxiety. Panic was beginning to set in as the boy raised the sand timer above his head, fully prepared to strike.

Snooore

Shuichi froze. Was Kokichi…asleep? 

He lowered the sandtimer, still keeping a firm grip as he crept closer to the fireplace in order to get a better look at Kokichi. 

His suspicions were confirmed. The boy was sat cross legged in front of the fire with a book in his lap. Drool was leaking from his open mouth as he snored softly away, completely oblivious to the blood dripping down his forehead. 

Ehh?! Blood?!

Shuichi gasped loudly, perhaps a little too loud as Kokichi startled awake. 

The Supreme Leader glanced towards Shuichi, then to the object in his hand. "Oh, Shuichi! Finally come to beat my head in huh? I'm surprised it took ya this long!" 

Fluff (continuation of humour) 

"Wh-what?! No!" Shuichi stood with his mouth hanging open for a moment before tossing the sandtimer aside. "Wh-why are you in my lab?" 

"Huh? Isn't it obvious?" 

"...reading?"

Kokichi sighed, flexing his fingers in an odd yet overwhelmingly gay gesture. "No, are you stupid? Geez, I thought you cared about me."

Before Shuichi could question what he was rambling on about, Kokichi wiped a little bit of blood away from his eyebrow. 

"Oh, right. Did the wound re-open?" Kneeling down next to him, Shuichi eyed the rivulets of blood shining on his forehead. They were beginning to dry and flake, but the wound still looked wet.

"Mm, yeah, it's not a big deal though. I wanted to see if there was any medicine in here that would help the blood clot faster, but alas, only poison. I mean, what kind of fake school is this if it doesn't have a nurses office?" Kokichi murmured the last sentence barely loud enough for the other to hear. 

"Sorry, I think there's a first aid kit in here though.” Rising to his feet, Shuichi walked over to the poison’s cupboard, beginning to search the room starting with where he was pretty sure he last saw it. “Let me have a look."

Kokichi went to object, but swallowed it before he could get the words out. He was pretty sure if he tried to stand up again, he would go down like a sack of bricks.

"Ah! Here it is." Shuichi exclaimed, perhaps a little too excited with his successful search. He picked up the small box, scurrying over to where Kokichi sat before kneeling down in front of him. The box was opened with a click, and Shuichi opened the lid. Inside were numerous bandaids, gauzes, swabs, etc. It was a pretty standard kit, which was surprising, considering the fact it were surrounded by poisons. 

He reached for the bottle of alcohol, something to help clean the wound to prevent possible infection. Kokichi seemed like the type to be negligent with a wound, so of course he had to do it for him. He then grabbed a small cotton gauze, placing it to the side as he twisted open the lid of the bottle.

Kokichi observed closely as he placed the gauze over the lid, tipping the bottle upside down so the alcohol soaked into the gauze. He was surprised but just how experienced Shuichi seemed to be with this kind of thing.

“Wow Shuichi, you seem to be a reeeeal expert at this stuff! Maybe they should re-title you ‘Ultimate Nurse!’” He mocked, laughing a little as Shuichi glared up at him.

“Basic First-Aid training is a requirement for being out in the field.” Shuichi muttered, putting the bottle down and raising the gauze to Kokichi’s head. “This will sting a little.”

He thread his hand into the purple bangs, pulling them back to get a clear access to the wound. Shuichi had no qualms with hurting Kokichi, however, as he was not very gentle as he wiped the gauze over the gash in his head.

Kokichi squirmed in pain, gripping the blanket tightly in his hands as he whined. “Ow ow ow ow!! Stop it Shu!!!” 

A warmth was rising in his cheeks, probably all that blood returning to his head. Shuichi’s fingers were cold against this scalp, it was embarrassing, humiliating. Why did he have to baby him like this? Especially when he had been so adamant about rejecting Kokichi in the past.

“It doesn’t hurt that much, you’re being a baby.” 

“You’re so mean Shuichi.” Sticking out his bottom lip, Kokichi pouted dramatically. 

Shuichi did take the effort to make his touches a little more gentle, only because he didn’t want to listen to Kokichi’s whines, of course.

When all the dried blood had been cleaned off, he tossed the bloodied gauze into the trash can. He scrounged around in the box a little, seeking an appropriately sized bandage that he wouldn't have to cut down. When he found one, he held it up, checking to see if it fit.

For a second, Shuichi found himself staring. Kokichi looked nice with his hair up, showing off those pretty purple eyes and surprisingly dark lashes.

Then he reminded himself of the awful things Kokichi had done. Throwing Gonta under the bus, laughing in the face of his death.

Shuichi pressed the bandage to Kokichi’s forehead, sticking it carefully over the wound. “Even though I helped you, I don’t forgive you. I need you to know that I still think you’re a terrible person, Kokichi.”

Kokichi’s heart sank a little. “Nobody asked you to! I don’t want your forgiveness.”

He slapped Shuichi’s hand away, rising to his feet quickly. He blinked back the lightheadedness, steadying himself before walking to the door. 

With a shaking hand, he opened the door. He opened it halfway, before pausing.

“...Thank you.”

The door slammed behind him, leaving Shuichi alone in the room, surrounded by First-Aid equipment.

Hurt/Comfort

The doorbell rang, the sound reverberating around Shuichi's tiny room. It was probably Kaito finally coming for training tonight.

Though… Shuichi glanced up at the clock quickly. It was kind of late for that…

With a sigh, he got up from his bed, springs creaking beneath his shifting weight.

He opened the door, only to find an empty corridor with nobody there. Strange… who on earth would have the audacity to play a prank after such a horrific trial? It could only be one person.

"Kokichi…?"

A soft gasp could be heard from down the hall. Shuichi leaned out of the doorway, spying Kokichi awkwardly escaping down the stairs.

"Haha!" He laughed. "Guess who just got ding-dong-ditched! As if I'd be coming to seek advice from you so late at night!" 

Shuichi narrowed his eyes, preparing to growl out an insult to Kokichi, something about being so insensitive after three people had died. He hesitated, however, upon noticing the watery gleam in those purple eyes.

The detective sighed and held his door open with one hand. "Come in, Kokichi."

Kokichi's mouth gaped at the sudden invitation. He wasn't going to let it pass, and dashed towards Shuichi before throwing his arms around the boy's waist and squeezing him tightly. 

"I… don't want to do this anymore..." Kokichi mumbled, burying his face into Shuichi's shirt. 

The other boy flinched at the sudden touch, something that was incredibly out of character for Kokichi. There seemed to be no threat, though, so he dropped his guard with a sigh.

Shuichi carefully placed a hand on Kokichi's head, petting him gently. "I know..."

Smut

"Ohh! Who would have thought that you were skilled in more areas than investigating? Isn't this a little illegal though? Sticking your dick in a suspect?" 

'Is anything technically illegal if it's a dream?' Shuichi wondered as he stepped one leg at a time out of his slacks.

"Hey! Keep on the task at hand, pretty boy." Kokichi snapped, clicking his fingers in front of Shuichi's face. 

"A-ah right. Sorry..."

Unresolved Sexual Tension

"So when faced with a problem you don't understand, you resort to violence, Shuichi? You're such a brute, just like Kaito."

"Shut up! There's just no logic with you! Why do you even keep doing this?!"

Kokichi refused to break eye contact for even a second. The boy pressing him against the wall dug his fingers even harder into his shoulders, stabbing into the skin below painfully.

"Do you feel nothing?! Isn't there even a single shred of empathy left in you?!"

"Shuichi." Kokichi smirked. "It's been incredibly cute watching you play detective, but unfortunately I don't think your blind luck will help you any longer."

The shorter boy shoved Shuichi off with a strength he hadn't shown before, leaving the detective stunned and a little shaken.

As Kokichi walked back to the trial room's elevator, Shuichi caught himself staring in awe. 

"...cute?"

[mxliv-oftheendless]

"I can't stop smiling." with StarVel? =3

So I’ve been watching a whole ton of Scooby Doo Mystery Incorporated, so I’m gonna put this in the SDMI universe! For context, this is in the gap between Season 1 and Season 2. Enjoy!!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

If someone had told Paul that he would someday be approached by Velma Dinkley, a girl he had only interacted with when they were lab partners in chemistry class and a girl he maybe kinda sorta had a crush on, and they would start hanging out together more often, he would have laughed in their faces. 

And yet, it was happening. It had been two weeks after the mayor had been revealed to be disguised as a monster called the Freak of Crystal Cove when Velma approached him at lunch and quietly asked if she could sit with him. It had struck Paul as odd to see her all alone, since she almost always was with her little group of friends. But he simply nodded and gestured for her to sit down. 

And since then, they had been hanging out together almost constantly for the past month. It took Velma a while, but she started opening up more, and Paul would be lying if he said he wasn’t loving getting to know the girl he had admired from afar since chemistry class. She would simply walk up to him after lunch or between classes and ask if they could hang out after school or over the weekend, and Paul definitely noticed that she always smiled happily when he agreed. 

Today, though, when Velma approached his locker between classes, Paul immediately felt like something was wrong. Her head was lowered, and her eyes were on the floor, and she was hugging her books to her chest. There was a sullen frown on her face, quite different from the preoccupied scowl she usually had. “Hey,” she said softly. 

He paused in digging his algebra textbook out of his locker to look at her. “Hey, shortie,” he tried, offering her a smile. When Velma didn’t return the smile, he frowned. “Everything okay?” 

“Um... yeah,” Velma tucked her hair behind her ear. “Everything’s fine.” 

“Velma, you’re a terrible liar,” Paul said bluntly. 

“Well, excuse me for being an honest person,” Velma shot back, lifting her head to frown at him. Then her face softened. “I’m sorry...” She leaned against the lockers and looked at him questioningly. “Are you busy after school?” 

“No. Why?” 

“Good. Want to come over to my house? I can help you with your math homework again.” 

Paul always jumped at the chance to get help with math. “Yeah, sure,” 

He waited for the happy smile to grace her face. But Velma’s mouth slowly turned up in a half-hearted smile instead. “Great...” 

After a moment, Paul leaned against his locker. “Velma, seriously, are you okay?” 

It took Velma a second, but then she sighed. “No... I--” She suddenly stopped and looked to the side with a look of sadness. 

Paul turned his head, and saw that Daphne Blake was walking past them, hand-in-hand with that movie star from the horrible Dusk movies. He glanced at Velma, and saw she had turned back to staring at the ground. But this time she looked like she might start crying. 

A second passed, then Paul nodded. “Right.” He grabbed his jacket from his locker to put it on, then grabbed his wallet, keys, and backpack, and shut his locker door. “C’mon. Where’s your locker?” 

Velma looked up at him in confusion. “Huh?” 

“Let’s go to your locker and get your stuff.” He dramatically glanced both ways, then leaned in. “We’re gonna skip class.” 

Velma gaped at him, scandalized. “Are you serious? No!” 

“Come on,” Paul argued. “Skipping one day of school won’t kill you. It’s not even one full day we’re missing!” He grinned at her. “It’ll be fuuuuun,” 

After a moment of her blinking at him, Velma smiled hesitantly. “Okay. Let’s do it.” 

Paul’s grin widened. “Great! C’mon.” 

“If we get caught sneaking out, I’m totally throwing you under the bus,” Velma stated as they headed down the hallway to her locker. 

“Fair enough,” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They managed to sneak out of the school by way of a side door, then ran to Paul’s car. Paul put on his rock music as they drove out of the parking lot, then after a moment of thought decided to head for the video arcade/roller rink. 

“You decided to bring us here?” Velma asked dryly as he pulled into a parking space. 

Paul grinned at her. “Sure! I was gonna head for the Clam Cabin, but then I remembered you hate the Clam Cabin, so...” he swept out his hand. “Video arcade!” 

Velma gave a bark of a laugh and followed him in getting out of his car. “You sure no one’s going to spot us?” 

“I’m sure,” Paul insisted. “Not like Sheriff Stone’s gonna do anything. And no one’ll even notice we’re gone.” 

“Sure, just like they don’t notice your turquoise car,” 

Paul gasped in mock offense. “Excuse you. They notice my turquoise car because it’s beautiful.” 

Velma snorted. “Sure,” 

“Ha ha. So, do you want to get snacks, or play games first?” 

“I’m not really hungry. So I guess games?” 

Paul grinned happily. “Awesome. I’m totally gonna beat you at Cursed Manor.” 

“Excuse me, bucko, but we haven’t even walked in the door.” 

“You’re right. First one there chooses the first game!” Paul took off running to the entrance. 

“Hey!” Velma dashed after him. “That’s not fair, your legs are longer than mine!” 

“Not my fault you’re a shortstack!” Paul called over his shoulder with a laugh. 

Within moments, he had reached the entrance to the roller rink and laughed victoriously. “I win!” he crowed. 

Velma scoffed as she approached. “Oh, shut up,” she panted. “Not my fault you have such long legs.” 

“I tower over thee, puny human,” Paul snickered, pointedly looking down at her. 

The bespectacled girl rolled her eyes but was still smiling. “Whatever. So, Mr. Giant Man, what game are we going to play first?” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“That was so not fair!” 

Paul whooped as his tickets came out of the game. “Hate the game, not the player, Dinkley!” 

“I can totally hate the player, Stanley,” Velma shot back with a grin. “Especially when the player cheated.” She emphasized the word with a shove to his shoulder. 

“Excuse me,” Paul put his hands on his hips, “but I am a Cursed Manor champion, and I will not be slandered.” 

“Someone has to be brave enough to slander you,” 

Paul scoffed as he bent down to grab the tickets. “You are, like, so rude,” 

Velma didn’t respond. When Paul looked up at her, he was immediately concerned by how her face had fallen into the same sad look she’d had at school. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, quickly straightening up. “Is it something I said, or--” 

“N-No, it’s... it’s fine,” Velma said shakily, once again tucking her hair behind her ear. “Can we play something else?” 

“Uh... sure.” Paul wasn’t sure what to say or do. There was clearly something wrong, but he wasn’t sure if it was his place to pry and make her talk about it. He glanced around for another game to play, then lit up. “Hey,” he touched her shoulder and pointed at... “Fight Fighters! Let’s play that.” 

A half-smile came to Velma’s face. “Jinkies, I haven’t played Fight Fighters in ages,” 

“I bet I’ll beat you at that one, too,” Paul grinned cockily. 

“Oh, don’t get your hopes up, artsy boy. I am the Fight Fighters queen of... well, let’s play.” She made a beeline for the game, grabbing his hand to drag him along. “Come on!” 

Paul felt his heart begin to beat faster at Velma’s smaller hand holding his. She was so excited... and she looked so cute. He hoped she didn’t detect how his laugh was a tad nervous as he ran along behind her. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They ended up staying at the arcade for a few hours, starting when Velma completely wiped the floor with Paul playing Fight Fighters and he challenged her to a rematch. By the time Paul thought to check the time, he saw that school had ended an hour and a half beforehand. So they cashed out their tickets, picked out their prizes, and left. 

“Do you want to go to my house, or yours?” Velma asked as they headed to Paul’s car. 

“Yours. Mom’s gonna lecture me for not coming home after school, and I’d rather get the lecture over the phone than in person.” 

Velma nodded in understanding. “I see. We definitely don’t have to tell our parents we snuck out of school.” 

Paul chuckled as they got in his car. “Definitely not,” 

“Technically, we were at the arcade when school ended. We can just say we went right to the arcade after school.” 

Paul grinned at her. “Did you put thought into that alibi?” 

Velma looked like she was trying not to smile. “No, I’m just stating a fact,” 

“Really, because I think you thought about that.” 

“Okay, and I think you don’t want your stuffed Totoro.” Velma swooped in to grab the plush Totoro toy out of his hands. 

Paul gasped and held it out of her reach. “How dare you! I won Totoro fair and square!” 

“Then at least give him to me so you can start the car,” Velma giggled. 

Paul squinted at her. “You promise to be careful with him?” 

“I promise,” 

He solemnly placed the plush Totoro in her hands. “Be gentle with him,” 

Velma scoffed, but gently placed him in her lap. “I will,” 

She was once again silent the whole ride back to her house, but when Paul glanced over at her, he saw she was looking out the window and lightly nodding along to his rock music. She seemed to be in a much better mood than when they left school. He still wondered what made her so upset back at the arcade, but thought maybe it wasn’t his place to ask. Besides, he was content to enjoy getting to hang out with her. 

She was coming further out of her shell to him. She went into passionate rants about how you just lost something when you read an ebook instead of an actual book; she rattled off facts like nobody’s business; she made terrible jokes, but still tried anyway; she could be biting and sarcastic, but it was so endearing when she was just messing around... Paul really liked her. 

You should tell her at some point, his mind whispered to him. But how would she react to that? Did she just see him as a friend? 

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he pulled up to Velma’s house. He pulled into her driveway and turned off the car, and was about to get out to grab his backpack from the backseat when Velma suddenly spoke. “Wait,” 

He sat back in his seat and looked at her. “What?” 

He thought he saw her hands tighten slightly around the Totoro plush before responding. “Thanks,” 

“Thanks for what?” 

“For talking me into cutting class. I really needed to get out of the building. I just... I hated seeing Daphne walking around with Baylor like... like nothing ever happened. Like Fred and Shaggy...” she trailed off and looked down at the seat. 

Paul leaned in a little closer. “Like they’re what?” 

“Well, Shaggy’s at military school, and Fred... Fred left town. I don’t know where he is. But that’s where they’ve been. And Daphne... Fred broke up with her right before he left, and ever since then I’ve been all by myself. And it feels so weird to be without my friends... we’ve been a group for what seems like forever. And now, to have two of my friends gone, and to have my other friend act like I don’t even exist...” once again, she moved her hair behind her ear. “It really hurts.” 

Paul wondered if he should take her hand. He had to fight the urge to do it. They were just friends, nothing more. “Jeez... I’m really sorry, Velma. That stinks.” 

“Yeah, it does,” Velma mumbled. “But I’m glad I’ve got you.” 

Paul’s heart suddenly jumped into a faster rate again. “You do?”

“Yeah, I do,” Velma looked up and gave him a small smile. “You’re a really great person. You’re fun, and you seem to enjoy hanging out with me. I like hanging out with you too. I really can’t stop smiling when I’m with you.” She shrugged wryly. “I don’t know how you put up with me. I can be pretty mean sometimes...” 

“Hey,” Paul chuckled softly, “I do enjoy hanging out with you. You’re fun too... even though you totally cheated at Fight Fighters.” 

Velma scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’re just jealous I wiped the floor with you,” 

“Yeah, right. You totally had to have cheated somehow.” 

“You know, I could just keep Totoro,” Velma pointedly hugged him to her chest. “He’s so soft and cute.” 

“Hey, I won him!” Paul laughed, grabbing Totoro and pulling him away. “You keep your disappearing ink.” 

“Fine,” Velma giggled. “Let’s get inside so you can call your parents.” 

Maybe he could tell Velma he liked her later, Paul decided as they got out of his car to grab their backpacks. For now, he could be happy with simply being a friend. 

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Bonus Chapter 3

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 7,838

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

"Are you sure we're allowed to do this?"

Lea tossed me a grin over his shoulder, giving my hand a small, reassuring squeeze as he pushed through the door and led me inside. "Course! Trust me, I've done it dozens of times. It's called auditing a class," he whispered.

"Oh," I breathed softly, taking a second to glance around the theater we'd just stepped into, which was slightly bigger and nicer than the Sunset Hill Auditorium. Class was already in session it seemed, with the teacher (who luckily hadn't appeared to notice us sneaking in) up on the stage and currently mid-lecture to the smattering of students dotted across the audience seating. I felt Lea tugging my hand again and I followed him as we ducked into the back row, gingerly slipping by in front of a couple people occupying the end chairs.

I'd of course heard of auditing a class, but had never actually done it before, so I didn't really know what it entailed. Still, I at least had a guess at an idea of how it was supposed to work. "...so you contacted the professor and got his okay for us to be here then?"

"Nah," he chose a pair of empty seats towards the middle, plopping down into one. "Don't need to, ya just show up."

My lips pursed to one side as I lowered myself into the one next to him. "...now that doesn't sound right," I muttered as my fingers absently fidgeted with the zipper on the sleeve of his leather jacket that I was wearing.

With a snerk, he settled his elbow on the armrest between us and propped his chin on his knuckles as he eyed me. "Look, did you or did you not say how much ya'd like it if you could get a sneak peak at Twilight U's Intro to Acting course before deciding if you were gonna enroll?"

"Well yes I did, but-"

"Then don't look a gift audit in the mouth, dollface," his fingers tweaked my nose. Still, I frowned uncertainly. With a chuckle, he slung an arm around my shoulders, hugging me into his side and smoothing a hand up and down my arm as he pressed a kiss to my temple. "Relax, we're fine. Just remember, this guy? Right here?" he jabbed a thumb into his collarbone. "Done it hundreds o' times, so I know my shit."

I squinted up at him, whispering, "...you said dozens of times a second ago."

"Nu-uh, maybe it's 'bout time ya had your ears checked. Ah, for the hearing to already be going in one so young such as yourself. Such a tragedy," he sighed, still keeping his voice low as he clasped a hand to his chest, fingers splayed. "My heart, it weeps for you, lil one."

"Whatever," I gave a quiet scoff, rolling my eyes.

Right then and there, I should've stopped talking and paid attention to the lecture.

And I tried. Believe me, I really did try. I needed to be listening to whatever it was the professor was saying. That was the whole point of being here after all, wasn't it?

And yet-

" ...pretty sure you needed to ask the professor first," I mumbled out of the corner of my mouth.

"Shh," Lea held a finger up to his smirking lips, his eyes glued to the lecturer as he slouched down into his seat now. "Some of us are trying to learn here."

I narrowed my gaze over at him. "...what are you doing?"

He turned his head towards me, giving me a flat look. "Didja not hear what I just said? Wow, maybe we really do gotta look into getting you a hearing aid, grannie."

My hand lightly shoved his shoulder. "No, I mean it looks like you're slouching."

"Seems your vision's still twenty-twenty. Sweet, least ya got that going for ya."

My eyelids drooped, "It would almost seem as if you don't want to be seen. One might even go so far as to say you look like you're trying to hide."

"An astute observation," was all he said with a noncommittal little shrug.

Leaning away from him slightly, I crossed my arms. "If it's okay for us to be here, why oh why then, pray tell, would you be worried about being spotted?"

Slumping down even deeper into his chair, he gave a lazy, dismissive wave of his hand, "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves and interrupt the class. It's a matter of course auditing etiquette, El. I'd know," he grinned and winked at me, "done it thousands of times."

"And the number keeps growing," I shook my head with a derisive snort. "What, are you auditing all these classes even as we speak?"

"Why yes, yes I am. Wait for it…" he held up a finger and paused for a couple beats. Then, "Bam. Just audited another one."

I facepalmed, "You're ridiculous."

"Bam, bam. Two more down. Lookit me go, I'm a course auditing wiz!"

"I'm rethinking taking this class," I grumbled under my breath.

Lea jolted, sitting up straighter, "Wha-? Aw c'mon, we were gonna take it together though!"

I shot him a rueful grin. "That's why I'm rethinking it. You're too distracting."

Smiling, he ducked down next to my ear and whispered, "You mispronounced the word delightful. Don't worry, babe, it happens to the best of us."

I was this close to smacking his arm when a throat cleared loudly in front of us. We both stiffened and froze before slowly turning our gazes towards the source.

A tall, lanky man eccentrically dressed in purples and yellows who hadn't been there a second ago was now in the row before us, knees perched on his seat cushion with him backwards in the chair so he could face us. Elbows propped on the backrest, his shoulder-length black hair framed his smirking face as he rested his goateed chin in his palms and simply watched the two of us.

And it was just suddenly coming to my attention that all eyes in the theater were on us now and the whole place had fallen eerily quiet.

Maybe because the professor was no longer talking on stage.

Maybe because he was the man now directly in front of us with a bright grin and predatory gleam in his eye.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he batted his eyelashes at us, his toothy smile stretching even bigger. "How rude of me to interrupt you while you're talking. Please, do go on!"

"We're done!" Lea chirped back, mirroring the man's expression. "Don't mind us back here, we're just auditing the course."

"Ah! Auditing the course, I see, I see! Well that explains it!" he perked up with a chuckle. "Just if you could then, my dear boy, answer me one simple lil question… who am I?"

I sensed a trap.

One that I might be able to sneak my way out of, given the lecturer's full attention seemed to be on Lea at the moment.

I discreetly moved over one chair.

"Pop quizzing me already, eh Teach? Pft," Lea waved a dismissive hand. "That one's a no brainer. You're the professor!"

"No, no," he hummed a small laugh and waggled his index finger. "Who am I?"

"Oh, I see." Lea squinted at him with a frown, "...well, that's a rather deep and complex question. Did we wander into a Psych class by mistake?"

We? What is this "we" business? Oh-ho no, you're on your own, bucko.

I quietly slipped over into the next seat.

A tiny, amused huff escaped the man's nose. "No, silly boy. My name. What is it?"

One corner of his lips quirking, Lea gave a small shrug, "Well if even you don't know, I'm not sure how you expect me to help ya with that one."

He shook his head and tsked several times. But then his face immediately lit back up once more as he placed a hand over his breast and slowly enunciated, "Clopin Trouillefou."

Lea's eyes widened. "Shit, you having a stroke there, buddy?"

"...it's my name."

To Lea's credit, while "Clopin" deceptively reads like it only has two syllables, the professor had said it in a way that somehow stretched it out to four and-

...and why am I wasting valuable seat moving time by explaining this right now?

I made up for it by pulling the rather slick maneuver (if I do say so myself) of shifting over two chairs.

"Something you'd know if you'd audited correctly and contacted me first," Professor Trouillefou tacked on in a lightly chiding singsong.

Ha! I knew it!

My chair scooching became a tad smug as I crept over to the next.

"Ya know what, I actually did? Was just testing ya." Lea shot him a double thumbs up, "Well done, my dude. A-plus!"

He laughed, "Nice try, my dear boy, but I'm pretty sure I'd remember you if we'd spoken previously."

Lea heaved a dramatic sigh, "Woulda thought so too and to be perfectly honest, Clarabelle, I-"

"Clopin," he corrected dryly.

"Right. To be perfectly honest, Clip-Clop, I'm a lil hurt that ya didn't. But ya know what?" he flashed a huge blinding smile. "I'mma let ya slide on this one, bygones and whatnot. Just don't let it happen again!"

One more seat over and I was as far as I could go. I was now sitting next to the pair of students at the end of the row that we'd passed on the way in. Aka my new pals. That redheaded nutjob over there? The one who seemed to be taking perverse pleasure in pushing the professor's buttons and was probably nano seconds away from getting kicked out? Yeah, no, zero clue who that was. Never seen him before in my life, and I certainly hadn't shown up with him. No, I'd come here with my two friends here, Chet and um… Karen.

...yeah, they looked like they could be a Chet and a Karen, so that's what I'm going with.

"You're too kind," the professor deadpanned before his lips took on a wicked upward curve. "Well then, since I'm clearly mistaken here and you obviously did in fact contact me, I've no doubt in my mind that you've also paid to audit my course?"

Both eyebrows shot up Lea's forehead. "Crap, we hafta pay?! What the hell then is even the point of auditing?!"

His sinister grin twitched wider and he said in a sickeningly sweet tone, "Get. Out. Now." He then pointed a finger directly at me, "You too."

I stiffened.

Fudge.

"What? No, I-" my voice broke in a squeak. Clearing my throat and plastering on my sincerest teacher's pet smile, I tried again, "No, I don't know him. He just sat next to me and started bothering me."

"Traitor," Lea hissed at me.

I ignored him, still addressing the professor. "I'm actually here with my friends," I leaned slightly towards said friends. "Isn't that right, Chet?"

Ah, Chet... my ol' chum, my ol' buddy, mi amigo, my-

"Er… my name's not Chet."

...you're dead to me, Chet.

"Alright, let's go, you two," Professor Trouillefou put one hand on the backrest of his chair and vaulted himself over it into our row. He then yanked Lea up out of his seat and started dragging him by the scruff of his shirt towards the aisle. As they passed where I was sitting, he pulled me up to my feet as well and kept going, towing me by the wrist.

Lea staggered along, trying to dig in his heels, "Aw, c'mon, man! Throw me out if ya gotta, but can't you give her a pass at least? She's totally innocent!"

"Which is the worst crime of all!" the lecturer shot back gleefully, not breaking stride.

We were almost to the doors leading back outside. Heart thudding and desperate not to be forcibly removed from the class, I blurted out, "We're planning to take the course next semester!"

At that, the professor slowed, glancing back at me with one eyebrow cocked. "Pardon?"

...wow, that actually worked?!

Swallowing hard, I gave a small, hesitant nod. "We only… we stopped by today just for a quick peek. We, um… wanted to know what we would be getting ourselves into, if… if that's okay? That is, uh… p-please?"

He didn't answer at first, his gaze just darting back and forth between Lea and me several times, eyes calculating. Then he beamed so big and so abruptly, it startled a small jump out of me. "Well, why didn't you just say so?!" Before I even knew what was happening, he'd shifted his hold on the both of us to instead grab Lea's hand in one of his and my hand in the other before he happily skipped - yes, friggin' skipped - off towards the front of the theater with us stumbling behind him. "Come one, come all, class!" he gave a boisterous trill. "Up on the stage for warm-ups, everyone!"

Oh dear, what had I just gotten myself into?

Maybe just getting kicked out would have been the better call.

As he led us onto the stage, my feet tripping over the steps the whole way, I stammered out, "Th-thank you, I really ah… appreciate this opportunity, b-but I was thinking we could maybe more just, hrm… observe?"

The teacher gave a booming scoff as he pulled us to a stop, the rest of the students in the theater filing up the stairs as well to join us. "Don't be silly, you don't observe an acting class!" He paused before declaring with dramatic emphasis, "You act an acting class!"

Oh.

Well then… my mistake.

"Gather 'round, boys and girls, we've got ourselves some fresh meat to play with today!" Professor Trouillefou cackled as he finally released Lea and me with a small shove towards the center of the ring of students grouped up with us now. Producing (from where, I know not) what looked to be some sort of theater prop in the form of a long scepter with round jingle bells dangling from the top end, he tapped it to his shoulder pensively as he asked, "Now, what lil drama exercise should we use to break in our sweet, young, starry-eyed would-be thespians here with, hm?"

One undergrad's hand shot up as she called out, "Topsy Turvy?"

"Court of Miracles?" came another suggestion from somewhere else in the small crowd.

"Hush, let's not throw them in the deep end right out the gate! There's no need to upstage each other for the toughest game, we wouldn't want it to be curtains for the newbies so soon! Heh… lil theater humor for you there," the professor chuckled with a wink. "No, I was thinking we could warm up with something a lil easier, something like… ah, yes! How 'bout a rousing game of Stroking the Animal?"

Lea snerked beside me, crossing his arms, "Dirty. Didn't realize we were in that kind of class."

That earned him a bonk to the skull from the jingly scepter.

Flashing his pearly whites, the teacher went on as if he hadn't been interrupted, "Stroking the Animal is an excellent lil game for drama beginners! Each of you are going to pair up and choose some sort of beastie - secretly, mind you, don't tell your partner! Then you'll each take turns acting out holding your critter, petting it, caring for it - not saying a word, just purely miming - until your partner correctly guesses what it's supposed to be."

"So… it's kind of like charades?" I asked slowly.

With a triumphant point of the jingly scepter in my direction, he proclaimed, "Precisely, my dear, precisely! Now everyone, take a minute to decide on an animal while you find your partners! Hop to it, chop chop!"

"Dibs on my acting buddy!" Lea snagged my hand and raised it high, showing he'd staked claim.

As the rest of the students began pairing off around us, I scrunched up my nose and muttered, "I'm terrible at charades."

"What?!" his brow furrowed. "But charades is just kinda, sorta acting, isn't it? And you love acting!"

"Yes, acting. Musicals, plays, scripts," I emphasized, my hands twisting at my braid momentarily before restlessly shifting back to fiddling with the sleeve zipper once more. "You know, lines and directions I can memorize and follow. Charades is more like improv's distant cousin twice removed. I hate improv… whenever I'm put on the spot like that, I just sort of freeze up and draw a complete blank. So yeah, I'm not exactly the biggest fan of charades. It's a game that just makes me feel silly and-"

"Time's up!" A ringing filled the air, coming from the dreaded jingly scepter. I was really beginning to hate that noisy little stick. Once Professor Trouillefou had everyone's attention back on him, he called out, "Begin!"

Crud, I hadn't even picked an animal yet!

Alright, brain, go time! Think, think, think! Conjure me up a creature! Go on, spit out the first thing you can think of! Just give me something! Anything!

Naked mole-rat!

...okay, maybe not that one.

We're looking for something nice, simple and obvious here, something that'll only take seconds to guess, something like a… a cat! Yes! Perfect!

Hey, don't judge me! It's not like I was trying to earn points for creativity here, I just wanted to get this ridiculous game over and done with quickly!

The other students had already begun. Not wanting to fall behind, I hastily struck up a finger to Lea to indicate I was ready. Then I looked away with a frown, my hands hovering in uncertainty for a few seconds. Okay, a cat… how do I show that I have a cat? Grimacing, I awkwardly scooped one arm in front of me like I was cradling something close to my belly and used my other hand to start petting the air where its imaginary head would be.

Eh, good enough, right?

Lea's face brightened, "Oh, a puppy!"

Alright, close! Come on, you got this. Not a dog, but a…

He squinted. "...bunny?"

...sorry, not the answer we were looking for here. Would the contestant care to venture another guess? Third times a charm, after all! Surely he'll get it this-

"Porcupine!"

Wait, what?

"Snake!"

For the love of… in what possible universe could the make-believe thing in my arms ever be a friggin' snake?!

"Turtle? Penguin! Oo-oo, this has to be it… hyena! No? Armadillo? Puffin! Skunk! Capybara!"

Okay, now the jerk was just doing this on purpose to mess with me.

"Naked mole-rat!"

Are you kidding me?! Shoot, I should have gone with my first instinct!

Narrowing my eyes at him, I made a growling little huff in my throat and started petting at the pretend feline's head more aggressively.

As if that would actually help.

Did I mention how completely bad at charades I was?

"El, ya gotta give me something to work with here," Lea groaned, rubbing at the nape of his neck. "I mean c'mon, you're just petting air there, that doesn't tell me any-" he cut himself off, blinking a couple times. Then he snapped his fingers with a victorious smile, "Ah-ha! Got it!"

My whole body froze.

Wait, did he really?

"Air elemental! No, no, air spirit!"

Gah, that's not even a real animal, you dork!

I scowled at him, my hands moving to strangle the air in his direction as I pictured his throat between my fingers.

He looked horrified. "Don't do that to the poor creature! That's animal abuse!"

I give up! I puffed out a loud sigh, tossing my hands in defeat.

"Well now ya just dropped the critter." He gave a soft tsk. "Worst. Pet owner. Ever. Well… I mean, unless of course it's a cat, then that's fine cuz it'd just land on its-"

"Ah!" My heart leapt in delight. "Yes! That's it!" I laughed, barreling into his chest and hugging him around the waist.

He grunted softly from the impact, then quirked an eyebrow down at me. "Are you serious? Ya couldn't get me to guess cat? Well shit, babe, you really do suck at this game! If we ever play charades in the future, Anna will be the one who gets stuck with your undeniably cute but useless butt on her team."

Face pinching, I poked him where he was ticklish just below the rib cage.

"Hey, no fair!" he squirmed, jumping away from me. Then clearing his throat, he straightened up with a dignified sniff and grinned, "Alright, my turn now!"

...oh yeah. He gets a turn too.

I completely forgot that part.

Well fudge, I should have simply let him go first and saved myself the mini panic attack.

Lea closed his eyes and bowed his head, his hands rising and falling with a deep inhale and slow exhale. He was clearly and quite visibly honing, as if preparing to act out some great Shakespearean monologue. Finally, he snapped into action. He flourished his arms to one side, as if proudly presenting something standing next to him. Then his hand moved to start stroking empty space somewhere at about his eye-level.

Okay... so the mystery animal was tall.

I tipped my head to one side. "...a horse? A camel?"

He raised his hand up higher so it was above his head, still petting away.

Even bigger, huh?

"Ostrich?" I wrinkled my nose. "Moose? Giraffe?"

Lea went up onto his tippy-toes, his arm stretched as far as he could reach and fingers now… possibly giving under-chin scritches? Maybe?

Jeez, just how huge was this thing?

I shook my head with a tiny, unsure, "...whale?"

He lowered back down onto his heels, resuming the stroking at a height not quite as far up there, but still above his head.

Alright, so… what was smaller than a whale, but bigger than a giraffe?

"...a really, really big giraffe?"

Elsa, Queen of Thinking Outside The Box.

His eyelids drooped. But seemingly undeterred, he set about moving over to where I'd roughly guess would be the side of this ginormous creature. He mimed climbing up it and slinging his leg over its back.

Big and rideable, huh?

"Ah! A… A… An elephant!" I stammered to get out past my sudden excitement.

Lea was still going, bending forward to give his mount a couple pats on the shoulder (I guess?) before pointing up. Then he stretched his arms out wide to either side of him like he was… soaring?

"A flying elephant!"

Wait, no, that'd just be silly.

We were looking for a real animal here. A large animal that could apparently fly. It had to be some kind of bird, right? But… pretty sure there weren't any elephant-sized birds out there in the world… were there?

Note to self: google "elephant-sized bird" later.

Tuning back into reality, I realized Lea had moved onto showing me something else now. It seemed he'd dismounted and returned to petting the thing's… head, maybe? But then he elicited a tiny, pained tch and retracted his finger like he'd been burned. But no, that couldn't be right… no animals in actual existence burned people, so what could it… oh! It must have just bitten him… yes, that'd make more sense!

Now he was looking at the ground and rubbing his hands together before turning his palms forward, holding them there for a few seconds. Then he balled both hands, stacking one on top of the other and lifting the top one up in a long, straight line. With one hand still fisted, he then cupped the other upward and arced it over until it was upside down a few feet over his fist. Finally, he stretched his fist out in front of him while using his other hand to occasionally poke and pinch at the air above said fist.

I stared blankly at him. "...yeah, no, you've lost me."

The jingly scepter rang out loudly as the professor shook it high above his head, announcing, "Game over, boys and girls!"

Lea snorted and sighed, "Clearly I was roasting marshmallows there."

"...clearly." Not. "But why?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Well what else am I gonna do with the fire that my good, big dragon boi here breathed for me?" he asked, once again gesturing to the vacant spot next to him.

"A dragon?" I huffed, marching over to him to glare down (or rather up I suppose) my nose at him. "You were supposed to pick a real animal."

He grinned and folded his arms beneath his chest. "Teach never said it hadta be real."

I blinked, then glanced towards Professor Trouillefou, who shrugged and echoed, "Never said it had to be real."

"Told ya!" Lea razzed his tongue at me.

In retaliation, my hand shot out to tickle him again, but he caught it. "Ha! Too slow!" he crowed, smirking as he shifted his hold to lace our fingers together.

So instead I just tickled him with my other hand.

He spasmed, hissing swear words under in breath before scrambling to get out of my reach. I crossed my arms and - in peak maturity, mind you - razzed my tongue back at him before looking away with a small harrumph.

The professor clapped his hands together, "Alright, well done, class! Gold star for everyone!" From his pocket, he pulled out a small, glittery star sticker that he slapped to the forehead of the nearest student. Pointing a finger to it, he tacked on, "That's the only one I have, so you'll all have to share! In any case, now that we've had a chance to flex and loosen our acting muscles a bit, onto a slightly more challenging game…"

Wonderful! Now I could put this horrible improv portion of the class behind me. I wondered what would be next… monologues or scene work or script readings or-

"Alphabet Improv!"

...or more improv.

Swell.

You know what? Maybe acting class just simply wasn't for me. Since, you know, it seemed to be nothing but improv, a thing that I was terrible at.

...to be fair, one might argue that acting class would be the way to help me get better at it.

On the other hand, one might also argue to hell with acting class!

Not going to lie, I felt that the latter argument made a very compelling and well thought out rebuttal.

"We'll be doing this in groups of four," Professor Trouillefou went on, a wicked grin slowly stretching across his face. "And just for funsies, I'll be the one picking the groups. Now, who will start us off…"

Not me, not me, oh dear god, not me!

He pointed that cursed jingly stick directly at - you guessed it - me. I paled, my heart plummeting into my stomach as he decreed, "Congratulations, my dear, you are our first lucky winner!"

...fudge.

Gulping, I stuttered out in a tiny voice, "No, b-but I… I can't-"

"Oh, but you can and you will! Next up, your partners will be… hmm…" he pursed his lips to one side as he scrutinized everyone else.

Lea's hand shot up high over his head as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

"Kuzco!" the lecturer jabbed his scepter towards the opposite end of the line of students from us.

A guy with long black hair jumped forward with a cocky laugh, "Boom, baby!"

Right. Guess that'd make him Kuzco.

The teacher slowly swung the jingly scepter past the students one by one, preparing to select his next victi- erm, participant. Lea kept jumping in front of it like an eager puppy, saying, "Oo! Oo! Me!"

Jerking the prop to Lea's immediate left, it landed on a short girl in a white sundress trimmed in black lace, her red hair tied back into a pair of pigtails that fell past her waist. "Strelitzia!" he cried, seemingly taking great joy in rolling the R as he did so.

She merely smiled sweetly at her name being called and stepped forward.

"And last but not least…" Professor Trouillefou squinted as he gave his students another once over. Lea bounced up in front of him yet again, both index fingers pointing up at his own face as he favored the teacher with a big, ear-to-ear smile. Rolling his eyes with a small huff, the teacher grumbled, "Fine. You, I guess."

Oh, thank goodness!

Don't get me wrong, this game was still going to absolutely murder me.

But with Lea's help, maybe it'd be just a tad less murdery.

As my boyfriend moved to stand beside me, taking my hand with a squeeze and a grin, the professor made a sweeping gesture with his prop, "Everyone else step aside and give our stars center stage! Now, Alphabet Improv is quite simple really. I'll give you four a scene prompt and a letter. Then one of you will begin with a line that starts with that letter. The next person will continue the scene by saying something that starts with the next letter of the alphabet. You will each take turns working your way through the alphabet until you're back around to the first letter, then work your way backwards through the alphabet."

I think he had more to say, but his words began to fade to the point where I couldn't hear them anymore. No, all I could hear now was the hammering in my ribcage and hiss of my rapid, shallow breathing through my nostrils. My mouth was dry and my hands were clammy. Yup. No doubt about it. This was anxiety. And not the good kind like I usually felt before a show. This was just plain bad. All bad. Nothing but bad, bad, bad. So bad that-

"Nervous?"

I gave a start as that soft voice broke through my thoughts, my head whipping towards it to discover the girl from earlier - Strelitzia, I believe - now standing next to me. She tilted her head to one side, grinning warmly at me.

A scoff from Kuzco had me jolting in surprise yet again. "Psh, like she has reason to be! Not with me in the group! Just simply bask in the awesomeness and perfection that is me and be at ease!" he smirked, puffing out his chest and stretching his arms out wide, curling and uncurling his fingers a couple times. "Go on, bask. You know you want to."

Lea snerked. "Check out the ego on this guy."

Heh… look who's talking.

"Just ignore him, that's what the rest of us do," Strelitzia giggled softly before turning her kind eyes on me once more. "And don't worry, I was nervous too when I first started taking this class. I still am, actually… but I've gotten better. Some day, I hope to be as good as my brother!"

Lea blinked. "Brother? Wait a minute…" he squinted down at her, rubbing a curled finger over his chin. Then he snapped his fingers. "You're Bubble Yum's baby sis!"

Her eyes widened at that, then she laughed, "Oh dear, don't let Marluxia hear you calling him that."

"Too late," Lea shrugged.

"But yes, he's my big brother. He's majoring in Theater Arts here, while I'm just taking this class because I want to be a little more like him. He's so confident and brave…" she trailed off shyly into a thoughtful pause. Then her face brightened, "I just wish I had a little more courage so I can make him proud of me! I think this class has helped me a lot with that, and it could help you too."

I think this girl was about to give me diabetes from sweetness overload here. It was almost enough to lure me into a false sense of security. Almost. But then-

Jingle-jangle!

Ugh, those damn little bells were going to be the death of me! Immediately, my pulse spiked and I inhaled sharply.

"Now that you've all had a lil time to get acquainted, let's move this along, shall we?" Professor Trouillefou beamed from where he'd taken a seat at the edge of the stage to watch us. The rest of the class had done the same, giving the four of us plenty of room to work with. Oh gosh, so many eyes on me, about to witness my epic failure at improv. Was it getting harder to breathe in here? "The letter you'll be beginning with: Q!"

I started desperately tugging at Lea's hand and he glanced down at me. "I can't do this," I told him in a whisper, the loudest I could muster through my constricting throat. "I can't… I just can't!"

"The scene," the lecturer went on, "...Kuzco here has just been transformed into a talking llama!"

Lea stepped in front of me, taking both my hands in his and drawing light circles along their backs with his thumbs. The sensation sent a soothing warmth up my arms and into my chest where it clashed with the icy panic pumping out of my heart. Ducking down to my eye-level, he said, "It'll be okay, El. I'll be right here with ya the whole time. You got this, trust me! Don't think, just say the first thing that pops outta your head. Simple as that!"

"But-"

"Annnnnnd action!" Professor Trouillefou roared.

Kuzco wasted no time, turning to the three of us. "Quick question guys…" he held his hands up and waved them back and forth in front of him with a chipper, "Why do I suddenly have hooves?" That earned him a few tiny chuckles from the students watching.

Fighting a smile herself, Strelitzia gasped, "Randy! You're a llama!"

"Sweet! New pet!" Lea went over to start patting Kuzco on the head. "Think I'm gonna name him Cheez Whiz." A few more snorts from onlookers.

Then there was dead silence.

...that was my cue, wasn't it? Crud, what comes after S again?! How do you alphabet?! I couldn't remember! So instead I just stood there, stock-still and rooted to the spot, hyperventilating and my eyes round as I stared out into our small audience.

...do...something…

What was it Lea had just told me? Don't think, er...

Don't think, just… uh…

…

Well I'll say this much for me - I had the 'don't think' part down pat. I was totally not thinking like a pro! Nothing was going on in my brain right now. Nope, not a goddamn single thing. Not even so much as a tumbleweed rolling through the barren wasteland that was my thoughts at this very second.

"This has ruined my face! My beautiful, beautiful face!" Kuzco suddenly burst out, covering for me.

Ah! T! That's what comes after S!

Dang it, I knew that!

Strelitzia hesitated for only a split second before coming up with, "Um... your face was never really all that beautiful to begin with…" There were a couple snickers from our audience at that.

"Veronica!" Lea suddenly grabbed me by the shoulders, forcing me to look at him instead of the people watching us. "Tell us, what should we do?!" His thumbs were stroking up and down my arms as he gave me a single, encouraging nod.

I tucked in my bottom lip, listening to a couple pounding beats of my heart before giving him a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of my head.

Still nothing going on up in the ol' noggin except for crickets and paralyzing, soul-crushing fear. Sorry, bud.

Then I realized his lips were silently moving… was he mouthing something to me? Looked suspiciously like… W...?

Oh! Right! The next letter!

Now I just needed to think of a word that started with W! Simple, right?

"W…" I began shakily sounding it out, hoping the rest of some word would just magically follow. "W…" Mm-hm, yup. "W…" Got nothing here. "W…" Absolute zilch.

Apparently that was deemed acceptable. "Xavier, can't you see she's petrified cuz I'm an ugly, stinky llama?!" Kuzco wailed as he fell to his knees.

"You have a point there!" Strelitzia chimed in, struggling to keep a straight face now at his overdramatic antics.

Lea smacked himself in the forehead, "Zounds, can't believe I forgot about her crippling llama-phobia!" …llama-phobia? At that, a tiny snerk managed to break through the all but suffocating anxiety and escape through my nose. Then he was grabbing my face with both hands, "But it's okay, you'll get through this! ...you'll get through this." The last part was repeated more softly as he gave me a small reassuring smile.

Something in his touch, his voice, his steady gaze… actually had me calming down a bit. With a tiny gulp, I closed my eyes, breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, letting some of the tension go with it. Alright, after Z came… ha! Yes! So easy, even my useless, panic-scattered brain could do it!

"A…" I began weakly, but then hesitated.

Don't think, just say the first thing that pops outta your head.

"Alpacas!" suddenly exploded from my lips as my eyes snapped open again. Lea's head rocked back slightly at my little outburst, a bemused grin tugging at his lips. Gaze shifting, I scrambled to expand on it. "Don't, um… don't forget I'm... d-deathly afraid of those too..."

Kuzco was quick on the draw, snarling, "Both of you shut up and help me fix this already!"

"Can it!" Strelitzia snapped, planting her fists on her hips and narrowing her eyes on him. "We're not taking orders from you!"

Lea stamped a foot down and raised his fist at him, "Damn right, you demon llama!"

That statement had me hiding a smile behind my fingers. And with that, a little bit more of the anxiety was banished. I could do this… especially now that I'd regained the power of the alphabet! Especially with Lea's hand finding mine once again, sending more warm tingles straight to my heart.

Don't think, just say the first thing that...

"Everyone, let's…" Okay, good strong start. Now, where are we taking this? "...exorcise?" Sure, let's go with that. "...the, uh... the demon llama?"

Success!

"Fiends!" Kuzco yelled, pointing an accusing finger at us. "Traitors! Evil criminal masterminds! This was your plot all along, wasn't it?!"

Turning to look up at Lea, Strelitzia told him, "Go on, say the words that'll expel the evil spirit!"

Not missing a beat, Lea joined Strelitzia's hand with mine before taking my other back in his once again. Then he led us into a skipping daisy-chain that circled Kuzco a couple times, all the while happily chanting, "Hocus pocus! Shazam! Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo! Nutella! Benedict Cumberbatch!"

This was all just so... utterly… ridiculous.

I spluttered, then erupted into full blown laughter.

Oh gosh, how did Lea always do it? How did he always know how to get a laugh out of me, no matter what? How did he always manage to calm me down and help me feel safe?

As he slowed our skipping to a stop, his eyes crinkled down at me as he prompted, "That oughta do it! Whatcha think?"

Ah. Right. I was supposed to be doing something… or saying something… something to do with the letter I. But I couldn't quite remember what. I was too distracted by his gaze on me, causing all sorts of warm fuzzies to flutter throughout my chest and an extremely silly smile to pull at my mouth. Alright, letter I… letter I… my lips parted...

Don't think, just…

"I love you."

The words had barely left my mouth when my whole body locked up and I swear my heart skipped two full beats as Lea's wide-eyed stare landed on me.

Crud.

That… had not been part of the game.

I knew it.

He knew it.

Everyone in the whole goddamn theater seemed to know it too.

That is, if the awkward, deafening hush now permeating the air as no one said or did anything was an indicator. Several eyes just slowly shifted back and forth between Lea and me, probably curious to see what either of us would do next.

Lea was the first to recover, snagging my hand in his. "Excuse us for a quick sec," he struck up a finger to the others, flashing a polite smile. Then he walked off backstage, gently tugging me along behind him. My knees had gone numb, causing me to stumble a couple times as I followed. I frowned at his back, feeling my insides shrivel with dread.

...oh gosh, he was about to break up with me, wasn't he?

Neither of us had ever said… said… gah, the L-word to each other before! And I'd been okay with that! I'd been just fine! I didn't even know whether I was in L-word with him or not!

Or rather… I hadn't known...

...but I guess I did now?

Apparently?

Not that that mattered any more! Not now that my stupid mouth had gone and screwed everything up! Lea wasn't the L-word type! He was the one-night stand type. This thing he'd been doing with me this whole time had been a one-off. A fluke. A wonderful fluke. An amazing fluke. A fluke that I had just totally and completely ruined.

It seemed he'd found a spot he deemed quiet and private enough, for we abruptly came to a stop. As he turned to face me now, I swallowed hard. This was it. He was about to tell me it was all over. My vision blurred slightly and I squeezed my eyes shut against it.

Maybe if I couldn't see him, he couldn't break up with me. Ha! Take that!

...okay, that sounded a bit desperate, even for-

My thoughts were silenced as I suddenly felt his arms wrapping around my waist, hugging me tightly up against him. Then there was the familiar scent of cinnamon before I felt his warm lips on mine, causing my eyes to fly open and my hands to unconsciously grip at the front of his shirt.

Wha-

...oh. Wait, no I get it. He was trying to let me down easy. This was a goodbye kiss. One final kiss for the road. The kiss of relationship death.

Yup. This sealed it. He was definitely breaking up with me.

All too soon, his lips were pulling away from mine, although he didn't release his hold on me. I couldn't look him in the eye. I was too scared. So I just stared hard at his collarbone instead and waited for him to say it. It's over between us. Just go on and get it over with already. Put me out of my misery. It won't be hard. Just four little words. Just-

"I love you too."

I blinked.

Okay… not the four words I'd been expecting...

I slowly dragged my gaze up to meet his, giving him a blank look. "...this has to be the most confusing breakup ever."

I felt his body tense against mine as both his eyebrows shot up his forehead. "Break up?" he repeated incredulously. Then a laugh burst out of him and he shook his head, "How did you even-? No, El, this isn't a break up! I mean, I certainly hope not anyway."

"Oh." Well that was a relief! But then my brow furrowed. "Wait…"

...back up… had he really just said he-

My heart flip-flopped and face glowed red hot.

"...you…" Dear lord, it was so hard to even say it. The struggle was real. "...love me?"

"Mm-hm!" he hummed, squeezing me closer and nuzzling his nose into my neck. "Known for a while too."

His breath tickled against my skin and I squirmed, my arms inadvertently wrapping around his neck now. "You did? Why didn't you say anything?" The question came out almost somewhat indignant.

Raising his head so he could once more look me in the eye, Lea gave a sheepish chuckle. "Didn't wanna spook ya or make you feel pressured into saying it back if you weren't ready."

"Well that's…" I paused, my mouth clicking shut as I looked down to mull it over for a second. Then my gaze shyly lifted once more and I mumbled, "...a fair point. And actually kind of thoughtful… thank you…"

His expression softened and he pressed his forehead to mine. "...say it again."

This time, my heart skipped three full beats. He wanted me to say… that again?! What, once hadn't been enough? I didn't even know if I could say it again. I didn't even know how I'd said it in the first place! "I…" Oh gosh, how did couples tell each other this all the time? There had to be some trick to it. What was the magic secret? "I… I'm not like you, Lea. I'm not sappy and mushy and… and I know how to do corny stuff like giving romantic speeches about lantern festivals or walking into lampposts or-"

"I don't want a speech. I just want to hear you say it again...please..." he coaxed in a low murmur against my ear, turning my legs to jelly.

Well when he put it that way…

As our eyes locked once more, my pulse raced and I opened my mouth. Then immediately shut it. Nope. Alright, take two. Again, my lips parted. And again, they snapped shut. Gah, this was impossible! Was almost surprised I couldn't smell smoke at this point, considering how badly my cheeks were burning. Finally, I turned my head to one side, gripping at the collar of his leather jacket and pulling it up to hide my face in it as I at last muffled out a quick, "I love you."

He bit back a grin, tugging the collar back down so he could hook a finger under my chin and tilt my gaze up towards his again. "One more time? Couldn't quite hear you."

I wrinkled my nose at him. I couldn't do it. Not with the way those beautiful green eyes of his were watching me with such intensity.

So I did the only thing I could think of.

I clamped my hand over them, blinding him and blurting out before I could stop myself, "I love you!"

He stiffened. Then snerked, letting my hand stay put over his eyes as a huge, dopey grin spread across his face, "Love you too. And eagerly awaiting the day when I can look at you while you say that."

Despite feeling flustered, one corner of my lips lifted. "...yeah, well... you might be waiting a while there."

Now he removed my hand from his face, weaving our fingers together and pressing a kiss to my palm before clasping it to his chest just over his heart as he smiled down at me.

"Take all the time ya need. I know it'll be worth the wait."

...maybe acting class wasn't so bad after all.

I mean, if only one session had helped me get this far...

...just imagine what I might be able to accomplish after completing the entire course!

Author's Note: Relationship milestone, woooo! Achievement unlocked! xD Not sure if ya'll even realized that these 2 dorks had yet to say those three lil words each other :P Like Lea said, he's known for a while - the goob might've even fancied himself in love back while they were fake dating - maybe it was still just really strong infatuation back then, but eh... does it really matter? xD As for Elsa, she's been in love for a while now too, she just didn't KNOW that's what it was until her mouth did what it does best, took the reins and blurted out her feelings for her XD On another note, yay for Elsa exploring theater further and pursuing acting classes! Hehe, these bonus chapters are quickly turning into an excuse to squeeze as many cameos in as I can. The professor was originally supposed to be a smaller, faceless part but then I came to the conclusion that I should have more fun with it and tried to figure out who would be good fit for a drama teacher - I think I made the right call with Clopin xD In case anyone didn't recognize him even with all the lil hints I dropped, he's the jester guy from "Hunchback of Notre Dame" which I wouldn't blame you if you read the name and went "uh…who?" - the guy only says his name once in the whole movie and it does legit sound like it has 4 syllables when he says it! My whole life (right up until I looked it up for this chapter) I've thought his name was something like "Cleopelle" haha oops xD And I'm glad I found a place to squeeze in Strelitzia at long last! Not to mention Kuzco - fun fact, he was originally gonna be Selphie, but this was before I came up with the scene prompt for the Alphabet Improv bit. I was looking up acting class prompt suggestions on the internet before I was like "screw it, I should just pick the plot of a Disney movie or something", started scrolling through the long list of Disney movies until I landed on "Emperor's New Groove", stared at it blankly for few seconds, then DING! Off went the lightbulb, Selphie was yeeted out of the scene, and Kuzco bounced in to take her place x'D Also, yes, both Stroking the Animal and Alphabet Improv are real drama class exercises - I know this from WAY more time than I care to admit spent on the internet trying to figure out what I wanted to happen this chapter xD Stroking the Animal is also sometimes called Ironing the Animal, but (1) I don't even understand that title and (2) Lea couldn't have made his dumb innuendo if I'd called it that xD

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

Be back for next week's bonus chapter, which is a for funsies one-shot! Your hint this time for what's to come will be *drum roll*... blindfold ;D Ooooo, the intrigue is real! Stay tuned!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 251: Help I Love a Manga Too Much

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi answered the age-old question of “can the Todorokis ever be together for more than five minutes without lapsing into a daytime soap opera?” with a resounding “HAHAHAHA.” Fuyumi and Shouto sat down with Kacchan and Deku and told them all about their super-dead brother Touya, whose death -- and you’ll be shocked to hear this -- apparently had something to do with Endeavor. What exactly happened, though, we don’t actually know, because they didn’t tell us, because of course they didn’t. Anyway, so then Fuyu bid everyone farewell and they piled into the Endeavormobile and started to drive away. Except they didn’t get very far, because all of a sudden some guy was like “HEY ENDEAVOR I’VE KIDNAPPED YOUR SON, NATSUO” and Endeavor was like “!!!” and the guy was like “AND I’M GONNA KILL HIM, WHEEEE” and then the chapter ended. Anyway so we all agree this family is cursed, yes?

Today on BnHA: Ending, who really doesn’t have much depth to him beyond continuously screaming “SO ARE YOU GONNA KILL ME ENDEAVOR?? HUH?! COME ON AND DO IT! I FUCKING DARE YOU TO DO IT! COME ONNNNNNN”, keeps on doing that. After about three seconds, the Terror Trio gets bored of sitting around not kicking ass, so they explode out of the car to join in the action. Since they all have impeccable senses of narrative timing, they simultaneously choose this moment to figure out all that shit Endeavor was trying to teach them a few chapters ago, with the end result being that (1) Shouto uses Flashfire, (2) DEKU USES BLACKWHIP YESSSSS, and (3) Katsuki rockets himself at fucking lightspeed to save Natsuo in the nick of time. Then Endeavor wraps Natsu (and Katsuki lmao) in a big ol’ panicked dad hug, which fully destroys me, and the chapter ends! So that was pretty quick, actually, but it sure was intense!

lmao -- what?? -- are you --

ME, TALKING TO A FOREST WITCH: so you’re saying that once I peer into this cauldron, the spell will reveal the thing I love most?

WITCH: yeah basically

ME: [peers, sees this]

WITCH: ...

ME: ... I can explain

[wiping away tears] yep so anyways. that’s my son. that’s my boy. so handsome. and talented

anyways so I guess that answers the question of whether or not the kids are gonna get involved lol. the title presumably refers to the one week of winter break that they had, which was also their time limit to try and beat a villain before Endeavor. GEE I WONDER IF THEY WILL DO IT

so Ending, our friend from last week (who apparently isn’t the “Takami” guy he was monologuing about, so so much for that), says that even under the most extreme circumstances, heroes will never choose to kill someone. and god I am so tempted to say something snarky about real life law enforcement here. but you know what, I’m not even gonna go there because this is supposed to be my happy weekly manga reading time, and lord knows Horikoshi is good enough at fucking that up himself without me adding on to it

anyway, so Ending says that despite that principle, Endeavor chose to kill that Noumu at Fukuoka. so I guess he assumes this means Endeavor just doesn’t give any fucks nowadays and will just kill ANYONE, ANYTIME, WHENEVER! sound, logical deduction there! airtight fucking reasoning

anyway this guy actually sounds seriously depressed though, and yeah this is getting dark real fast you guys

a few people pointed out to me last week that this guy is manipulating the lines painted on the road, and that’s what his quirk is (and it was also pointed out to me that he shot himself up with something akin to Trigger before he got started, so presumably he’s hopped up on those quirk roids at the moment), and now that I know I can see it actually should have been really obvious lol. anyways so yeah, looks like he’s been busy. I’m sure the three buckos strapped into the back seat of this vehicle know when they’re beat, and will use this opportunity to just take a nap or something

honestly, I could have predicted this coming even without that thumbnail lmao

also is anyone else dying at Katsuki being all BOOM!! while Deku and Todo are just “BANG” further back by the car. just a slight difference in intensity, here. it’s subtle but you can spot it if you look real close

anyway if I were Ending, this right here would be the point where I said “OH SHIT” real loudly, and screamed and dropped Natsuo and turned and hightailed it out of there with my road stripes whipping out behind me in the wind like tin cans dangling from the back of a newlywed car

LMAO CHAUFFEUR ARMSTRONG IS ALL “YOU FORGOT THESE!” AND YEETING THEIR COSTUMES OUT AFTER THEM, AND FUCKING LOOK AT THIS SERIES OF PANELS OMG

Endeavor’s face is fucking SENDING ME, man, oh my god. the man has gone FULL SURPRISED PIKACHU, someone help me I can’t breathe dfklsk

AND WHAT ARE THEY SUPPOSED TO DO, CATCH THE BRIEFCASES AND THEN THEY’LL JUST MAGICALLY UNFOLD THEMSELVES OUT OVER THEM LIKE IN IRON MAN 2? actually, scratch that, that’s exactly what should happen. please do this. I promise I won’t even poke fun, I’ll just accept it unconditionally

LOL IT KEEPS GETTING BETTER HOLY SHIT

“911, what’s your emergency?” YES HELLO PLEASE HELP, I LOVE A MANGA TOO MUCH. “ma’am, that’s not a real emerg –”  NO, LISTEN, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND

Kacchan doesn’t even look back, he just reaches his hand out and knows exactly what Deku is doing without looking, and trusts his aim to be perfect. I’m so fucking weak for this teamwork I fucking sighed in real life you guys, it’s unbelievable

I can’t tell if this is Deku using “Shouto” the hero name, or if it’s now “Shouto” as in his actual name lol. because he’ll keep on using “Kacchan” no matter what, in any and all circumstances, so we can’t even use that to try and gauge lol. but anyway I’m choosing to believe it’s “Shouto” the name because they’ve now graduated to the next level of friendship after that dinner, and after Fuyu clasped his hand in both of her own and was all “I want you to know that I approve of the two of you together with all of my heart” or whatever it was she said, but it was basically that. so anyways yeah after that they’re now on a first name basis. YOU HEAR THAT, SHOUTO?

and then, with these bottom three panels, I know this is supposed to be all “click/bzzz/whrrr/other high tech costume-changing sounds” and it’s supposed to be a near-instantaneous costume change, presumably while still in motion because THEY’RE JUST BADASS BITCHES LIKE THAT, but like. in reality I pictured them all instantly grinding to a halt, and unclicking the locks on the briefcases, and Kacchan just giving his a shake to spill all the contents out haphazardly on the ground, while meanwhile Shouto is much more fastidious and respectful, and kneels on the ground and opens his case with both hands, and Deku is hopping around on one foot trying to drag his gloves on with his teeth while putting on his metal shoe-thingies, and the entire time Ending and Endeavor are just staring at the three of them like, “.....”

so anyway that’s what I choose to believe is actually happening. lastly, you also need to understand that pretty much this entire time, I’ve had the Powerpuff Girls theme playing in my head AT FULL INTENSITY on repeat, including during the part where they stop for five minutes to suit up. so there’s that, too

moving on!

TODOROKI SHOUTO, AFTER STOPPING TO CLICK OPEN HIS BRIEFCASE, RUMMAGING AROUND FOR HIS SHOULDER GUARD THINGS, LOOPING THEM OVER HIS ARMS, PAUSING TO WIPE THE SWEAT OFF HIS FOREHEAD, AND THEN FINALLY STANDING BACK UP: Natsuo!

lmao so anyway, now Endeavor is fully engaged in the fight once again, and thinking that Ending is “A FOOL” for letting himself get temporarily distracted by the interns’ shenanigans. but like. is he, though? seeing as he’s flat-out admitted to you that he wants to lose this fight? because he wants to die? did you hear that part? like, ??

so now there are some very intense closeups of Endeavor’s eye, and Natsuo’s face, and Endeavor’s feet

intense

(ETA: actually in hindsight of the hug, I fucking love this, because this is the moment where, right after he psychs himself up and is all, “now’s my chance!”, he sees Natsuo’s face and he sees the fear in his eyes, and all of a sudden he’s frozen in place, terrified of making a wrong move when his son’s life is at stake.)

-- oh snap, look who’s getting beaten to the punch!

do you guys remember that season 3 anime filler where Deku somehow beats Iida in a race and everyone just accepts it like that could ever actually possibly happen, like...?? if he can’t even keep up with Kacchan and Shouto, I hardly think he could pose a challenge to the guy who’s basically the Usain Bolt of heroes. but it’s not like that still keeps me up at night or anything. anyway!

so Ending here is giving the Todorokis a run for their money in the drama department, which is really saying something

okay, but what exactly is he supposed to do, then? you’re saying he should focus on killing you to save his son? so what, just like try to fry you and hope he doesn’t also hit Natsu? it seems to me like he has the same chance of success here whether he aims for lethal or nonlethal. so idk but go off I guess dude

oh damn, but in the meantime it looks like Todo is having some sort of badass awakening moment

YESSSSS SHOUTO UNLEASH THE INFERNO

(ETA: so Shouto just burned off his entire uniform, yes? boy you’d better keep that fire going now for modesty’s sake until you figure something out sob.)

lol so anyway I just had a flashback to Shouto’s fight against Tetsu back in chapter 205, and I realized that if Ending really wants to fight someone who absolutely doesn’t give a fuck, and will straight up kill a bitch with his quirk if they test him, then HERE’S YOUR GUY LMAO

now Ending’s saying “because you took your time...” and I have no idea where this is going, but I’ll take this as confirmation that they really did take a time-out for five minutes to gear up

oh damn

friendly reminder that gravity in BnHA tends to follow normal rules, unlike in most shounen manga. but even so, I’m finding myself hard-pressed to be concerned considering Kacchan and Deku are on the job. you’re gonna have to do better than that Ending my dude

wow is he shoving Natsu right into oncoming traffic?!

where the fuck did all these fucking cars come from out of nowhere like this?? the highway was like empty two minutes ago, geez

anyways now we’re seeing another “condense it!” panel, and is this one Bakugou??

I mean it looks like his gauntlet there, and I’m pretty sure Shouto was wearing sneakers in the panel earlier, and those obviously aren’t Deku’s shoes, so...!

YEPPPPPPPP

listen you judgey forest witch, I don’t need to justify myself to you, okay?? just!! I LOVE HIM END OF STORY

(ETA: and hey can we also just stop for a second and talk about how insanely fucking fast that was, though?? and Kacchan was fast to begin with -- remember how quickly he saved Jirou during the joint training arc. anyway so he’s basically moving at teleportation speeds now, and I’m here for it, and also terrified that he’s going to blow his fucking arms off at some point because holy fuck though.

also, once again I would like to express my gratitude for Horikoshi for once again giving Katsuki the big rescue moment, rather than having him go immediately for the bad guy. this is such an important thing to show. he’s really giving his all towards this “saving people” thing and trying his hardest and I’m so proud.)

and now it’s Deku’s turn to get to work!

that guy gripping his steering wheel for dear life has the most perfect expression I’ve ever seen, like that’s exactly the face I would be making in that situation. this chapter has had so many great facial expressions overall. I feel spoiled

[LUNGES TOWARD THE SCREEN IN ANTICIPATION!!] MOTHERFUCKER, ARE WE ABOUT TO SEE SOME BLOOP ALL UP IN THESE PAGES!?! PLEASE!!!!?

I FUCKING CAN’T WITH THIS BUILDUP?? THIS IS PAGE ELEVEN OF THE CHAPTER, AND I JUST KNOW WE’RE ABOUT TO END IT WITH A TWO-PAGE SPREAD ON THE NEXT PAGE. THIS HYPE IS TOO MUCH, I’M GONNA LOSE IT

OH SNAP NO IT WAS JUST A SINGLE PAGE!!

THE TRIUMPHANT RETURN OF BLACKWHIP YESSSSSS

lmao Ending looks so fucking shocked at being completely taken apart by these three kids with basically no effort. and I see that ice creeping up around him. oh, son. you tried

and then the last page is -- oh

I mean, Deku and Shouto being complete badasses (ETA: and I so wasn’t kidding when I said that Shouto will straight up murder a bitch omg), but then

aaaaand there goes my heart. hey would it kill you to give me a heads up before you just go and STUFF IT FULL OF FEELS like that?? like

just. Endeavor just ran up and gathered him up in his arms, and he’s holding him with this desperation that we’ve never seen from him before, and just... wow. it’s completely disarming and I’m almost at a loss for a coherent response. meanwhile poor Katsuki nearly got wrapped up in it as well due to proximity, but it’s not like it’ll hurt him to see this moment up close. I still have another essay I’m working on for you, you little honey badger

(ETA: on closer inspection it seems like poor honey badger actually has been fully included in the hug lmao. and at first I was thinking it was just the proximity as I said above, but you know what? if some punk kid flew in out of nowhere and saved my child’s life, you can bet I’d be wrapping them up in a bear hug too. so maybe it’s just the dad emotions getting the better of him. either way Katsuki you just gotta put up with it!)

anyways don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here thinking about how Endeavor has already lost a child (and yes I know, but like I said last week, I genuinely believe it was a tragic accident. to me that makes infinitely more sense than all of the darker/more sinister explanations. but anyways we’ll see eventually), and his family has been in shambles for so long and he’s been estranged from all of them (for good reason), and I think he finally even is coming to terms with that, and the fact that it may always be this way for him because of what he’s done. but to then almost have a second child taken from him, right before his eyes, and knowing that once again it would have been his fault, was apparently more than he could handle

and then, just the fact that he reacted in this of all ways. by openly showing tenderness and emotion, without even thinking about it, because he was so shaken up by the whole thing. this from Todoroki Enji, the most stoic, impassive, closed-off motherfucker to ever walk the earth! like, even after he clearly established that he was on the redemption path, he still never showed this kind of vulnerability. we’ve had a window or two into his thoughts and reflections, so we know he’s been experiencing remorse, and we could see it also during some of the quieter moments like him thanking Fuyumi or kneeling at the shrine for Touya. but I will tell you that I never for a moment could have imagined a scene like this. and I know it’s probably going to make some people angry because they feel like he hasn’t “earned” it or whatever. but I’ll be fully honest, at this point I’m kind of over feeling like I have to put a disclaimer every week explaining that yes, I like the Endeavor redemption arc lol. just, yeah. I like it. and anyway, so this was feels all over the damn place. fuck

(ETA: and I feel it’s worth adding here that even though Endeavor didn’t do anything to save Natsuo himself directly, it’s his guidance that enabled those three padawans to reach the next level so quickly. so in a way he did save his son: by finally moving past his self-centered mentality and taking these three kids under his wing and helping them grow. this wasn’t a victory he could have pulled off alone. but because he finally learned to see past himself, they were able to win the day and save Natsu.)

anyway, so now that all this has happened, I’m curious as to whether this is the end of this little arc! if so it’s much shorter than I expected. though obviously their internship is going to continue even after they head back to school, so it’s not like the action is just gonna come screeching to a halt. but maybe we’ll take a little break after this to catch up with the rest of 1-A, and maybe follow up with All Might to see who the great-great-grandfather of One for All is, oh snap

AND MAYBE A CERTAIN SOMEONE CAN HIT US UP WITH HIS THOUGHTS AND REFLECTIONS ON WHAT HE LEARNED DURING THIS WINTER BREAK, AND WHETHER OR NOT HE TOOK AWAY ANYTHING FROM THIS THAT MIGHT STEER HIM A BIT MORE TOWARDS HIS NEW HERO NAME. THAT WOULD BE SPLENDID. JUST PUTTING THAT OUT THERE

and having said that, I don’t really have a clean way of ending this recap this week lol so just. uh. I liked it a lot, thank you, good night

[all1e23]

Astrophile [Pt.8]

Chapter:  Fallen Star

Summary:  Bucky asks for a favor and it has huge consequences for everyone.

Warnings:  FLUFF. Sweet, pure Bucky.

A/N: I’m SO excited about this chapter even though it’s garbage. It’s super cute and fluffy. So enjoy all the sweetness. Send me love because i”m needy, okay?!  Plus all your comments make my day. Beta’d by the beautiful and talented @lokissoul I love you 3000.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

“Daddy is silly. Y/n likes him, too!” Ori groans and smacks her palm against her forehead.

Natasha smirks as she pours pancake batter on to the hot pan in front of her. “I am not arguing with you peanut. I don’t think your daddy knows that, though.”

Orion has talked of little else since the night she told her aunt about her daddy’s crush, and that was over a week ago. Nothing has changed in that time. Ori was still going over to the bookstore whenever she could, Bucky and Y/n talked all day every day, and Y/n came over for another movie night, but this time Ori insisted that Y/n sat in the middle. That was until she missed her daddy a little too much and ended up crawling in his lap where she promptly fell asleep.

She hasn’t mastered matchmaking just yet – Ori’s got a lot on her plate with being a princess and all.

A plate stacked three chocolate chip pancakes high lands in front of the little girl, and Natasha gathers her curls up in her hand in an attempt to push them out of her eyes while she eats. Ori pokes around at her pancakes with her fork, a deep frown sets in her adorably chubby cheeks – no explanation is needed.

“It’s been a while since daddy has liked someone. So long, the last time he’s really liked anyone was way before you existed. We might have to let this unfold on its own.”

Okay, maybe Natasha is feeling guilty after the whole Tony set up. The plan backfired, and she had not expected Tony and Y/n to get along so well.  She was ninety percent sure the date would be a flop, and it would make Bucky see what was right in front of him before it was too late. 

Neither happened, and now it might be too late.

“Putting out fires he can handle, but girls not so much,” Ori sighs with a shake of her head.

Nat froze hands in holding her curls and bent down to see her niece’s face, “Where did you hear that?”

“Uncle Sammy.”

-------

Bucky has big plans for today – huge plans! To say he is excited is a severe understatement. He called Y/n early this morning and asked if she could swing by the preschool a few blocks away from the station, and she agreed without hesitation because that’s just the kind of person she is. Her one day off from the bookstore and she’s ready to drop whatever she has planned to spend the day with him without even questioning his reasoning.

This should be a good day, and it was until Y/n pulled into the parking lot. Bucky’s heart sinks when he sees the Audi R8 come to a stop out front of the school – he was not expecting her to show up with Tony. Why did Tony have to get out of the car? Did he need to show off right now? Bucky has never wanted to punch him this badly before–

“Hey, Buck,” she chirps.

“Hey, Y/n,” Bucky grins right back.

Y/n’s whole face is lit up, and Bucky is glowing right back at her despite the fact her fingers are weaved around Tony’s. Tony gives a gentle squeeze to her hand, and she quickly shakes it off, turning to look at Tony with a smaller, duller smile.

“You two know each other right?”

Of course, she knows that already. She is uncomfortable – Tony quickly works out. He’s never seen her awkward like this before, and he can’t quite place the reason for her nerves.

“We do,” Tony confirms as he catches Sam and Clint waving their arms trying to get her attention, “I think you have some fans trying to call you over.”  

She peers around Bucky and grins at the two man-children jumping up and down in an attempt to get her attention.“I guess I better go over there before they break a leg or something. Call me later tonight after work?” She asks, tilting into Tony a little more than Bucky would care to see.

“Yeah, go. Go have fun. I’ll see you later,” Tony says as he leans in to kiss her softly. He doesn’t linger, but he’s in no hurry to lose the feel of her lips either. She still tastes like coffee and lemon pancakes from breakfast – not a combination he normally likes, but it tastes good on her.

When he pulls back, he can see the shift in Bucky’s demeanor, and it’s one Y/n misses entirely. She steps around Bucky leaving the two men in a sea of nervous tension, Bucky’s eyes are stuck to the roll of stickers in his hands, and he doesn’t look back up until It’s just him and Tony. Tony steps forward into the taller man’s eye line and grins, clearly unphased by the tension surrounding them.  

“Ah, Bucko. How’s the family? Everyone doing good? Great. That’s terrific. Listen, I didn’t know the two of you were so close. I definitely didn’t think you were close enough to call before lunch and ask her for favors.”

Bucky is seconds away from drowning him in that fountain behind them. If there weren't children present, he would have tried. 

“I didn’t know you were even seeing her today,” Bucky bristles. “We talked on the phone till she fell asleep last night and she never mentioned you. Not once.”

Tony watches him for a beat too long, and Bucky is instantly second-guessing himself. Did she fall asleep on the phone with him? She looked like she was fast asleep, but maybe she called Tony back after they hung up? Are they more serious than Bucky realized? Well, he absolutely hates that idea. 

“And she’s your…”

“Friend. We are just friends, Tony,” Bucky says with an exasperated sigh. This stupid crap again. He can’t get away from it. Bucky glances back at Y/n talking to Sam and then back to find Tony staring at him.

And there it is Tony realizes – the reason.

“You’re an idiot,” Tony says bluntly and slips his sunglasses on.

‘I –I,” Bucky stutters as he watches Tony walk to his car without so much as a goodbye. 

“You’re the idiot,” He grumbles on his way back to Y/n.  Sam points her in the direction of the class they are going to be in, and he jogs to catch up to her, smiling nervously when he finally reaches her side.

“So,” he gulps. “You didn’t tell me you had a date with Tony this morning. I wouldn’t have called if I had known.”

She frowns and shakes her head following him into one of the classrooms across from where Sam was gathering kids up. 

“It wasn’t a date. Just breakfast and even if it had been a date you can always call me. You’re the number one guy in my life. You should know that by now, Buck.” Bucky hangs his head, letting his hair fall in his face to cover the smile that is so wide his cheeks are hurting.

“Okay, where do you want me?” She asks, grinning at him. “Want me to read to the kids or something?” 

Bucky points to the large bag on the floor fighting the smirk on his face– did he buy a special bag for dramatic effect? That’s no one’s business. She eyes it curiously as she slowly opens it and takes a peek inside. It’s quiet, and after a long pause, she slowly looks up at him at a loss for words because, seriously, what the hell is this?

“What is this?”

“Oh, this is payback, darlin’,” Bucky says, sauntering towards her. “Sweet, sweet payback.” He pulls the head of a giant dalmatian costume and grins at her. “You’re going to help teach the kids how to stop, drop and roll while you’re dressed up as this furry guy.”

An excited squeal slips from her lips, and Bucky’s smile drops. She digs out the bottom half of the costume and could not be any more excited to dress up like a giant firefighting dog if she tried.

“Wait a damn minute–”

“–Language. We are in the school.”

“Okay, Steve,” he snarks back. “You can’t be excited about this. This is supposed to be payback!”

Y/n grins as she slips her feet into the bottom half of the costume pulling it up her body and grabs the head from Bucky’s hand. “I love kids, Buck. I don’t know if you figured this out, but I like doing silly things like this. Oh! Look! There’s a fan inside in the head.”

“Here,” Bucky demands gently with a chuckle and shakes his head at the pure excitement in her voice. Hand it over.” 

He takes the dalmatian head from her outstretched hands and helps slip it onto her shoulders grinning at the sight before him– she has to be the cutest damn firefighting dalmatian he’s ever seen.

“The fan is broken,” Y/n’s muffled voice carries through the head of the suit, and it tugs at Bucky’s heart. He can hear the pout in her voice, and he is so grateful he can’t see her face because that adorable pouty face she makes when she’s upset just about knocks him to his knees.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky winces. “That’s one hundred percent Sam’s fault.”

“You’re blaming him because he’s out there talking to the kids and can’t defend himself, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

Bucky grins and spins her around to face the door, settling a hand on her back to help guide her back outside without injury. He knows how hard it is to see through the head of that stupid costume from personal experience, and Sam wasn’t the best at guiding him around. He did manage to walk Bucky into several doors and a few walls– that might be the cause of the broken fan.

“Let’s go, Sparky.”  

Y/n let Bucky guide her outside where Sam and Clint had the kids gathered around in two rows. Bucky takes a step back, allowing Sam to take over so he can hang in the back to watch and what a sight it is. Every single kid gets a high five, there’s some dance she somehow had ready for a moment just like this, and she even pokes fun of Sam a bit when he’s not looking. Bucky’s favorite part though? It has to be Y/n teaching the kids how to stop, drop and roll. Sparky’s head is not exactly secure, so she had to keep a tight hold onto the head as she rocks back and forth on the ground – there might be some video evidence, and she might be perfect.

Without a doubt, she’s the best Sparky they have ever had. After the last of the kids are corralled back into the classroom and the coast is clear, Y/n pulls the head of the giant dog off and blows a piece of fuzz off her face. 

“So are we even now?”

Bucky chuckles. Yeah, okay, they are even now. She might even have the upper hand still.  

“Yeah, we are even. I might owe you. I was volunteering today, so I don’t have to go back with the guys, and Nat is watching Ori for a few more hours. Do you want to grab dinner? My sorry for making you roll around on the ground in a giant dog costume.”

“I didn’t mind. It was fun,” Y/n assures Bucky.

Of course, you didn’t mind, Bucky thinks.

“There’s a food truck a few blocks from Nat’s that has really good burgers, and I thought you would like it. Don’t even ask. I checked. They have ice cream, and I promise you can get two kinds of desserts.”

“Um, as if I would say no to two kinds of dessert? I guess it’s okay if you’re there,” She teases as she shimmies out of the bottom half of the costume. “Let me get cleaned up a bit, and we can go.”

Bucky watches as she makes her way back across the yard a little skip in her step as she goes. For someone who just spent the afternoon in a bulky, overheated dog costume, she is in an awfully good mood, and he has no idea why that makes his heart jump so much. He knows he has spent too much time watching her when he feels someone walk up and stand beside him – it just had to be Sam.

Sam leans against the side of the truck grinning at Bucky, “Going out?”

“Sam–”

“I heard the two of you just now. You’re taking her on a date!” Sam exclaimed, loudly.

“It’s not a date! She’s dating Tony.”

God, Bucky hates the way that sounds – it tastes foul and wrong and dirty. It doesn’t matter if it does. She’s his friend, and she’s happy. That’s all that’s important. “This doesn’t change anything. I take Nat to dinner all the time. Am I dating her?”

“No, she’s like your sister and married to one of your best friends.”

“So I can’t have any friends that aren’t married to one of you idiots without it being romantic?”

“Christ,” Sam grumbles. “There’s something between the two of you, and now you’re taking her to dinner without Ori. The way you look at her? You gotta know this is different, man.”

“It’s not. Go protect our city or something. I’m busy–”

“–Busy waiting for your date.”

“I hate you so much.”

Y/n walks up behind them and links an arm with Bucky, grinning widely and cooing at the idea of a date. 

“Someone is going on a date?”

“No one is going on a date. Sam is being stupid,” Bucky grumbles and shoves Sam away from them. 

“Ready to tear up some burgers?”

“Yep. Is it weird that I miss Ori?” She asks as she digs through her bag, checking to make sure she isn’t leaving anything behind. 

Bucky stares at her unable to speak or even think. She’s wearing lipstick. The same lipstick she wore when she went out with Tony, the one she said was only for special occasions – the one Bucky said he liked. She wasn’t wearing any when Tony dropped her off. So, she put it on to go out with him? He’s not sure if he should like that as much as he does. 

“Can we bring her some cookies or something?”

And she wants to bring Ori cookies because she misses her? Did he hear that right? He’s never gone out with a woman, date or not, and had them worry about his daughter. 

“Buck?” She questions, waving a hand in front of his face to get his attention. “Do they have something we could bring her? I don’t want her feeling left out when we pick her up.”

When we pick her up. No he didn’t hear that wrong and it might be the sweetest thing he’s heard all day. 

He clears his throat and nods a few times too many but it makes her giggle so the whiplash was well worth it, “Oh, yeah. They do. They, uh, they have those big chocolate chip cookies. We can bring her some.”

“Good,” She beams. “Lead the way. I’m all yours, December.”

Shit.

-------

The few tables that are set out in front of the food truck are overly filled with other couples and family so finding a seat takes a minute. Apparently, Bucky wasn’t the only craving burgers and fries tonight. They finally end up sitting on the same side of a small picnic table, legs stuck together and elbows bumping every time they reach for their drinks or a napkin. Neither batted an eye at having to share the little bench, or their legs squished together for that matter.

It felt natural – weirdly enough.

“You never really told me,” Bucky mentions, hesitant and unsure for the first time all night. “How was your date with Stark?”

“Oh, it was good. Tony’s sweet and funny. Constantly finds a way to make me laugh. I know he’s not your favorite but –” Bucky feels his heart constricting the more she went on. He can see her lips moving but can’t hear her. It’s as if his brain is attempting to save his heart from having to hear just how fantastic Tony is and how happy they are together. “– But then I stupidly said that I only really laugh when I’m with you. Not great first date talk.”

Bucky sat up straighter. Now, this he wants to hear. 

“Wait, you talked about me on your date? You were on a date with Tony Stark and talked about me?”

“Um, yeah? I’m sorry. Is that weird? We talk a lot, and you do make me laugh. I always have fun when I’m with you, so it just slipped out,” She mumbles, eyes downcast, slightly embarrassed she blurted it out like that.

“Hey, it’s fine. I don’t mind you talking about me.” He bumps his shoulder against hers and grins when she meets his eyes with a nervous smile. 

“You make me laugh, too. All the time actually.” 

Y/n relaxes a bit and blows out a breath as she pushes the empty cardboard container away from her. Her head falls onto his shoulder like it was meant to be there and Bucky freezes unsure what he should do. If it was Natasha, he would kiss her head and playfully shove her off him, but she’s not Natasha. She’s different. Y/n’s been different from the day he met her, not in the way Natasha hoped but it doesn't change the fact that she is. Bucky slowly lifts his arm and drapes it around her shoulder, letting his thumb sweep up and down her bare arm, so subtly she almost didn’t notice.

Almost.

“I’m so full,” She whines playfully. “Why did you let me eat that much?”

“Since when can I ever tell you what to do?”

“Okay, good point.”

Bucky wants to say something, anything, so she stays right where she is and never leaves his side again, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to risk saying something stupid. He’s made a fool of himself in front of her enough over the short time they have known each other, and the last thing he wants to do is make her feel uneasy with him. A quiet comfort settles between them, Bucky’s thumb is still ghosting over her arm, and the only thing that could make this better is his little comet.

“Ice cream and cookies now?” Y/n begs breaking the silence and tilts her up to meet his eyes with zero intentions of moving from the crook of his arm.

“You just said you were full, and now you want ice cream and cookies?” He counters, brow raised and wearing a huge grin. “It’s going to make you sick, doll.”

She sticks out her bottom lip, and Bucky can feel his resolve crumbling instantly. He closes his eyes still grinning like a fool and groans, “Alright. Quit it. I’ll give you whatever you want if you promise not to look at me all cute like that.”

“Whatever you want, Buck.”

Double shit.

-------

The car rolls to a stop in front of the Aquila Books and Bucky peeks back at Ori to make sure she’s fast asleep; she’s snoring away. Her tiny hands clutching her new books with chocolate smeared on her chubby cheeks from the cookies Y/n bought her. Natasha was all too happy when they showed up together to pick up Ori. She was annoyingly chipper about it. Bucky had thought about dropping Y/n off first, but the bookstore was past Natasha’s place. Not to mention how excited Y/n was to see Ori andBucky knew Ori would be disappointed if she didn’t get to see Y/n – he could endure Natasha’s bullcrap for his best girl.

“So, you will help me throw this party?” Bucky looks back at Y/n with an apologetic smirk. “Since apparently, Tasha can’t help for the first time.”

Funny how Natasha made sure to bring up Ori’s fifth birthday party on their way out the door and mentioned she was so busy at work she couldn’t help plan her party. Since Orion has been born Natasha has never missed out on planning her party. Not once. Bucky has a feeling this isn’t about Ori’s party or Natasha’s work schedule. 

“Of course I’ll help. One fantastical space themed birthday coming up!” Y/n squeals as loudly as can with the sleeping comet in the backseat and Bucky can’t help but chuckle. He shakes his head and sighs, “Thank you for today and going to dinner with me and all the books and… for just being you.”

Y/n leans over the shifter and cups holders and kisses his cheek. 

“Thanks for liking me for… me,” she whispers softly. 

She’s grabbing her bag and is out of the car in a flash. Bucky’s hand slowly reaches up to his cheek that still had a slight hint of her lipstick staining his skin. He quickly shakes off whatever the hell those goosebumps mean and shouts out the open passenger window, “Hey, Beck?” 

Y/n turns back around, keys in her hand waiting with a shy smile. 

“I like the lipstick,” He says with a grin and a wink.

That tiny smile turns into a face-splitting grin, and she shakes her head at the satisfied look on Bucky’s face as he drives off. Y/n takes the steps two at a time still grinning from ear to ear when she walks through her front door. She shuts the door behind her and leans back against the solid wood. It’s grounding and firm and helps keep her weakened legs from giving out, a soft giggle bubbles up and the grin on her face is starting to hurt her cheeks. Her laughter and smile slowly fade and guilt replaces the warm feeling in her chest when her eyes focus on the massive bouquet of red roses Tony gave her this morning. 

It was just dinner with a friend, so why did she feel so guilty?

Previous // Next

[ansgar-martinsson]

Fair Winds and a Following Sky - Part 12

Nowhere Oklahoma, One and One Half Years Ago

It was a dry winter, or so he’d been told. Dry, he supposed, meant mild; as the weather was more like autumn or spring in his estimation, than a true winter. He’d never spent a winter in the Southern United States before, but he knew that the winter there paled in comparison to the dark, Swedish winters he was accustomed to.

Which was why he never once complained about working in the barn, why he never once balked at mucking out the stables or feeding the horses, or even putting the great beasts through their daily winter paces. There wasn’t much he could have done construction wise around the ranch. Most of it - the barn, the porch decking, the siding, the garage door - was done, anyway. 

His work there was essentially complete. And yet, for numerous reasons, he stayed.

It was six in the evening, an hour after sunset. The sky was a grayish haze yet - the day was over, but it was not quite night. He, as he was every night for the past few months, was in the stable. It was warm there, heated by the hay and the horses; and he enjoyed the sounds of the breeze through the corridor, the whisper of the straw, and the whickering of horses.

He had just finished brushing Condor’s Flight, one of Anna’s prized racehorses, when he heard tires in the driveway followed by the slam of a single car door. It didn’t sound at all like Anna’s Chevy.  If he wasn’t mistaken, it was the distinct sound of a newer model BMW, which, from his knowledge of the local trucks, SUVs, and beaters with heaters, was quite odd.

He dipped his hands into a trough of warm water, wiped them with the towel that hung from the tack post, pushed the man door open and stepped onto the edge of the pathway. In the beam of a pair of bluish headlights, he saw the shape of a woman - shorter, stockier, thickly dressed - definitely not Anna.

The woman called out. “Boy! Come here.” She gestured wildly in the air with one hand, beckoning him to her as she took quick, shuffling steps toward him. In spite of her demands, he remained in place, his hands on his hips. “I said, come here boy.”

“I’m sorry, madam,” he replied, “I tend not to answer to ‘boy.”

“Ooh,” she sang, “a proud one, huh? Well,” she stepped forward, pulled off one of her gloves and held her hand out to him. “Let me try this again, hm? I’m Bessie Travidge. Folks call me ‘Mama.’ Supposing you can too, call me Mama.”

He sighed behind a tight-lipped smile. “A pleasure, Mrs. Travidge,” he shook her hand, his grip tight and firm. “I’m Alan Easterberg.”

“You’re the help,” she perked. “I know all about you, boy.”

He curled his lip and sneered. “Madam....” 

“Sorry, sorry,” she held her hands up. “Don’t mean to insult y’all.”

He grinned, showing his teeth in an irritated rictus. “How may I help you, Mrs. Travidge?”

“Oh, do call me Mama, will y’all?”

“How may I help you... Mama?” he repeated, the name dripping like venom from his lips.  “Anna isn’t home right now. She’ll be returning shortly if you’d like to wait inside.”

“Oh no,” her eyes widened. “I ain’t here to see Fair Sky.”

He cocked his head. “Then why are you here?”

“To talk to you, for sure.”

He blinked. “Me? What could you possibly want with me?”

She peered at him, then, her aspect morphing from one of blithe friendliness to a hard, stern facade. “I’m here to talk to you about your leavin’ this place. Quick like.”

“I assure you I have no intention of leaving, not yet at least,” he replied cooly. 

“Don’t matter your intention, boy....”

“Don’t call me boy....”

“Mm hmm,” she guffawed sardonically. “Don’t matter much your intention, sir,” she emphasized. “You’re leaving and quick like.”

“I assume, madam, that there is an ‘or else’ hanging at the end of that.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

He widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest - mainly in an attempt to show dominance, but truthfully in an attempt to hide the damnable shaking of his hands. He pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes, also a show of strength mixed with the desire to conceal the fear swimming in the blue. “And that ‘or else’ is?”

“Or else I tell them where you are.”

“Tell them where I am,” he repeated slowly, as if trying to decipher the ramblings of a maddened child. “Tell whom?”

She chuckled, lifted one hand, and with the other, she ticked off her fingers. “Well, the police for starters, then the CIA, FBI, Interpol, and some fellas from the Swedish Secret Service what came round to my office last week.”

His heart was a caged lion. It pulsed and strained and pounded against his chest. His mind went cold and he seemed to have lost his stomach altogether. Yet, he fought hard not to show any of his discomfiture. Fought to keep his mask firmly in place, but time and emotional trauma and lack of practice made it fragile, paper thin, full of deep fissures. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said clearly. “There’s no reason any of those people would be looking for me.”

“Because you’re just a carpenter, ain’t that right?”

“That is correct,” he averred. “I think you must have me confused with someone else.”

“Does the name Rufus Valentine ring any bells with you?”

Crack.

He swallowed hard, struggling to keep his jaw from clenching, his eyes from watering. “No,” he lied. 

“How about Isak Pettersen?”

Crack.

He blinked. “No.”

“Ansgar Martinsson?”

Jesus Christ, he thought. She knows. She fucking knows.

“I’m afraid I have no idea who that is.”

“Well,” she smiled, serpent-like. She paced in front of him, back and forth over the short width of the gravel walkway. “He is a very important fella, he is. The CEO of some big international company, got his sticky fingers in projects in just about every country on this planet.”

“What does that have to ---”

“Quiet now, boy,” she barked. “Just hush yourself for a spell and listen to me.” 

His nose flared and his eyes hardened, but he stayed, he listened. There was nowhere for him to go, regardless. “Go on.”

“Turns out,” she continued, “he up and disappeared ‘bout a year or so ago. Left New York City one morning, and ain’t been heard of since. Folks have been looking up and down for him, and nothin.’ They want him back, you see. Guess he’s, how’d they say it? He’s vital to ongoing government operations or something like that. What’s more he’s wanted for assault, they say. Somethin’ about tearing up some bar in Pennsylvania and threatening this Valentine fella with a gun. Should I go on?”

He remained silent. 

“See, and they’re gettin’ real close to finding him, they say. He was good, real talented at slippin’ away, at hiding. Didn’t leave much of a trail. But the FBI, they’re dang good at what they do too.”

Shatter.

“Apparently they are,” he said. He knew full well that to say as such constituted an uncontrovertable admission. He sighed and fluttered his eyes with deep-seated annoyance. “So, what do you want?”

“Told y’all. I want you gone,” she demanded. “Pack up your shit, get in that rust bucket Bronco of yours and high tail it out of here. And don’t come back.”

“Why don’t you just turn me in? Just tell them who I am and where I am?”

“’Cause I don’t want no trouble.”

He cocked his head, squinting. “For Anna?”

“No, for my family. I don’t give a rat’s ass about that injun bitch,” she spat. “I don’t want the Travidge name dragged through whatever mud you’ve been wallowing in. If they ask me, I’ll deny ever knowing what I know or ever seeing y’all. I’ll deny we had this conversation, but you gotta skedaddle. Now.”

He nodded slowly, understanding. “What if I refuse?”

“My boys are out by the car,” she indicated with a lift of her chin. “Brian’s been itchin’ to have at y’all again after the beatin’ you gave him this summer. He ain’t drunk now, and that’s all I’ll say about that.”

“And if I don’t leave, how will you turn me in without, as you say, dragging your family through the mud?”

“The FBI loves an anonymous tip, don’t it?” She tapped the side of her nose and winked. “Easy as pie.”

He licked his lips. “I see. What about Anna?”

“What about her?” 

He closed his eyes in thought. The last thing he wanted was for this woman... this Mama... to know that he and Anna had been intimate, that they’d forged some semblance of a relationship, that maybe, just maybe, he was falling for her. “Nothing,” he clipped, shaking his head. “Nothing at all.”

“So I guess you’ve got a choice don’t y’all? You can either leave, disappear again, and get home to Sweden on your own terms -- when you want, how you want -- or you can go by force, in custody, and under the watchful eye of the press. Your choice, Bucko.”

And later that night, he made his choice. And because of that choice he loathed himself even more, if that were possible.  Like Faye, he packed his bag, tossed it in the back of his car, and left. Left in the night. Left without discussion. Left without saying goodbye. He vanished from Anna’s home, her bed, and her life. 

But unlike Faye, at least he’d left a note. 

He wondered, as he turned his Bronco toward the Eastbound Highway 40 on-ramp, whether Faye had hurt as much, or had cried as hard as he did when she left him.