INSPIRATION STRIKES AND I WROTE ANOTHER CHAPTER! Also omg you guys, I finished two chaptered fics! I have never done that in my 6 years of writing fanfiction, but such is the magic of TF2 :) I hope you enjoy, get ready for the feels!
A heavy silence had settled over Reliable Demolitions and Excavation. Yes, it had been quiet and tense before, as the recently-separated couple waged a silent war of attrition in its halls. But now, the silence was somber, and felt by every member of the team following the loss of their sniper.
A cease fire had been called, now that they were down a member, and none of the mercenaries felt like doing much of anything. Engineer and Demoman kept mostly to themselves, busying themselves with whatever they could in their workshops. Spy remained as reclusive as ever, keeping to his smoking room.
Heavy and Medic were together practically all hours, and though neither was outwardly grieving, it was clear that the incident had forced them to focus on their relationship once more. Neither was willing to be far from the other, and an increasing protectiveness was present whenever they ventured out of Medic's rooms.
The deafening silence had proved to be too much for Soldier and Pyro, who spent most of the day in the wasteland beyond the base, torching anything they could drag there that no one would miss. Pyro had taken the news harder than some, so although their behaviour appeared destructive, everyone knew that Soldier was protecting their base from going up in flames, accidentally or purposefully.
The main reason for the unnatural quiet on the base lay in Scout's absence. He could not be coaxed out of Sniper's van, fearing it would be gone if he left it, and when he did interact with others, his voice was subdued and disinterested. He was a shell of who he had been, and it was both concerning and frightening for the other men (and Pyro).
Scout didn't want to eat, and he hadn't bathed since Heavy's return three days earlier. All those who visited him had seen was him lying on Sniper's bed, facing the wall or staring into space like a lifeless doll.
No one had had any luck engaging him in conversation of any form, though several had tried. Engineer had come in a friendly way, attempting to coax him out with food and reassurances, but Scout had virtually ignored him aside from asking to be left alone.
Medic had been more insistent, and knowing the runner's dislike for sympathy or coddling, had made a fuss about his sadness and how he shouldn't be alone. The doctor was suffocating on purpose, hoping to elicit the snark that Scout was known for, or even some annoyance, but the young man remained apathetic, appearing to tune him out completely.
Even Spy had tried to elicit an aggressive response from him. He had not berated his son for feeling grief over Sniper, even the Frenchmen knew the marksman was far too touchy a subject. But mocking, scolding, and back-handed comments about anything else he could think of returned no results; Scout ignored him as he had Medic.
Finally, Spy had given in to frustration and told Scout that he was the one who had given Sniper the annulment papers, and told him to leave Scout because he had known something would happen.
Scout lifted his head then, but there was no anger, no fire in his eyes. He just looked heartbroken. "He wasn't gonna use them. He never would've brought them out if I hadn't dumped him, an' he never signed them even though I did."
His son indicated the annulment papers, which were now a shredded mess on the floor, then flopped back down, returning to the limp fetal position he had taken up.
On the evening of the third night, the remaining mercenaries, save for Pyro, gathered in the living room to drink. The circle of men sat quietly, eyes focused on the glasses in their hands or the flames licking the fireplace. Despite it being mid-summer, everyone was feeling a chill.
Demo broke the silence. "Has he eaten anythin' taday?"
Medic didn't need to ask who he was talking about. "Nein. If he does, he throws it up not long after, but is not intentional. He is sick with grief-'Broken Heart Syndrome' it is colloquially called."
"Гавно." Heavy muttered, looking down at his massive hands. "This is Heavy's fault. Should not have shot at gang."
The German beside him sighed heavily, like he had heard this many times. "You did not know what was inside warehouse. And you had already opened the door, and they saw you. You did what you had to."
"Heavy still feels he killed Sniper. He was good man."
"He was. A mite strange sometimes, but hell, ain't we all? And he loved that boy." Engineer gave Spy a pointed look.
The Frenchman gave a huff of a sigh. "He never signed ze separation papers I gave him. Yes, I tried to get him away from my son." He waved a hand dismissively when the other men glared at him. "But even after Scout signed ze papers, Sniper did not. Perhaps I was wrong about him, and his intentions towards my son."
"Ve'll never know now." Medic answered shortly, giving Spy an acidic glare.
"How long do you reckon it'll take for Scout to….get over the Sniper?" Engineer asked slowly.
Spy sighed again. "He may be my son, but I have known him only as long as you have. And zhere is no telling with that boy."
"I have never seen him so upset." Medic looked pensive. "But he must eat soon or his health will only worsen."
"We shall have to be more direct with him, zince giving him space is only allowing him to wallow." Spy said with conviction, swirling the brandy in his glass. "He will need to be ready when zhey hire a new sniper to take over his lover's job."
"Indeed. He vill never forget him, but life goes on, vhether ve vant it to or not." Medic agreed, with a glance at Heavy, who was still looking downcast.
"We shouldn't forget him either." Engineer murmured. "He was one of us, and he worked for RED right to the end."
"Aye." Demoman raised the glass he held, having forgone a bottle for once. "To tha Sniper, he was a barry teammate, a bloody good shot, an' one a' the best men of all of us!"
"To Sniper!" The rest of the men raised their glasses towards the window, in the direction of Sniper's campervan. As one, they drank, each pondering their fallen teammate and what could have been had fate not intervened.
And then the car horn began to blare.
Michael 'Mick' Mundy had always been a fast healer. Considering where he had grown up: on a farm in the middle of a country where spiders, snakes, alligators, and dingos were commonplace, it was to be expected.
Not to mention how often he had gotten hurt, despite avoiding brawls with the other children whenever possible. But it had taken a while to build the strength and balance he now used to get to his perches-so he had spent a lot of time falling off trees, and even roofs. His mother had worried, of course she had, but his father insisted that the best way for him to grow up tougher was to let him get hurt.
Sniper was beginning to think his dad was full of shit.
Then again, jumping off a roof was a lot different than falling off one, and the warehouse roof was far higher than the crouching sheds he had climbed onto as a boy. All things considered, he was lucky it was just his leg that was broken, although the pain in his side could be an indication of something internal.
But when he had jumped off the roof, all he had cared about was protecting his head, and avoiding a fiery death, of course. And one glance through the grimy skylight on the roof of the warehouse had told him that was what awaited him if he stayed there another minute.
He hadn't even had time to warn Heavy before he jumped, and he certainly hadn't have the mental capacity to try after he had landed hard on his left side, burning pains shooting through his body. His landing spot was still too close to the building, so he had spent every precious second before the old building blew up dragging himself behind a large pile of debris.
Somehow, that had been enough to prevent any further serious injury, aside from a few cuts on his arms from minor debris that he had gotten while covering his face. But even then, the Australian couldn't rest, because he knew that it was only a matter of time until the authorities showed up, drawn by the smoke of the raging fire. And though they might get him the medical attention he badly wanted, there was also a very good chance that they would recognize him, and he couldn't run the risk of going to jail.
He had waited for a moment, for any indication that Heavy was still alive, but when he heard and saw nothing beyond the crackling of the fire, he had continued to drag himself in the other direction. There was no point in wasting his strength dragging to the front of the building-he would be a sitting duck in plain sight whether Heavy was there or not.
Once free of the destruction behind him, making a splint for his injured leg had been fairly simple-he had learned how in case of a situation not unlike the one he found himself in, after all. A couple of long sticks and strips of cloth torn off his shirt had kept his leg fairly straight until he stumbled across a house nearly a day later.
He felt a little guilty about stealing the car he had found sitting outside the silent house, but no one had been around, and he had no intention of dragging himself back to Teufort. It had been evening when he had stolen it, so he doubted anyone would really start looking for it until the next morning, when he would be more than half way back to the base.
Thank god it had been an automatic transmission car, he was fairly certain he wouldn't have been able to work the clutch of a standard with his broken leg. It had still been a very painful drive, and to say that Sniper was relieved when the car slipped through the camouflage curtain covering the secret entrance to RED base was an understatement.
The battered white car rolled up the drive, past the garage, and towards the lights he could see were still on in the living room area. Off to the side, he could see his camper sitting silently, dark and vacant.
Even though all he wanted to do was stumble to his camper, lie down on his bed, and sleep for weeks, he knew that his leg had carried him as far as it could. And the only way he could think to bring Medic to himself was to lean on the car horn.
It had the desired effect; chaos erupted inside the lit living room as the mercenaries within rushed to the windows before bursting outside, guns drawn.
The Australian didn't bother calling them off until there were lights in his face, likely held by Soldier or Engineer. "It's just me, ya yubbos. Don't kill me when I've gone to the trouble of not dyin' on the way here."
"Wha-Sniper, is that you? I'll be darned, you're alive! It's the sniper, boys, he's alive!" Engineer shouted from behind the flashlight. His announcement was followed by a clammer of happy voices, and the sound of weapons lowering as most of his coworkers gathered around the car.
Amongst the chaos, Heavy pushed to the front of the group with a relieved smile on his huge face. "Leetle man is alive! Heavy thought he had killed you by shooting at men inside warehouse!"
Sniper frowned a little, looking at the shadowed faces around him, features unclear in the darkness. "Wait, you all thought I was dead?"
"It took Misha four days to come back, and he was unable to find you after the explosions. Vhat vere ve meant to think?" Medic answered from a little further back in the group. He sounded perturbed, as though Sniper being missing had been an inconvenience to him.
"No, er, sorry mate." This was directed at Heavy. "I broke ma leg when I jumped off the roof, and after that I was just tryna stay out of sight for when tha fire department came, since I couldn't walk. But it takes more than a fire ta take me out."
"That's what the Scout said!" Demoman put in from the back of the group with a chortle, before freezing. "Ach! The Scout still didnae know that he is alive!"
Sniper tensed up a little at the mention of the runner, but Demoman was not giving him any time to think. "Ye have to talk to him, he won't listen ta any o' us!"
"Why should I go an' find him? If ya haven't noticed, I almost died. I just want to rest, you tell him yourself." His painful experience had not chased Scout's last words from his mind. Scout had claimed to love him, but he wasn't going to trust him until he saw proof of Scout's feelings. And he certainly wasn't bending over backwards to hunt the boy down.
But Engineer frowned. "Considerin' he's in your camper, and has been since since Heavy came back without ya, I reckon you should talk to him. Maybe you can convince him to eat, or get off the bed."
"He hasn't been eatin'?" Concern creeped, unbidden, into Sniper's voice.
Engineer's face became grim. "Since we all thought you, well, died, he hasn't done nothing but lie on your bed and stare at nothing. The doc says he's sick with a broken heart."
"That is true!" Medic piped again, now equipped with his medi-gun. "Und the best vay to fix it is to for Herr Sniper to go to him, so if you could move aside so I can fix his leg…"
When the door of his van creaked open, Sniper squinted in the dim light. Not a sound came from within, and from he could see, nothing was out of place. There was no evidence of Scout being there, in fact it didn't appear anyone had been in his van at all since he had left with Heavy.
Releasing the breath he had been holding, the Australian pulled the door closed behind him, setting down his bag. His leg felt good as new, bones realigned and skin sewn back together with science he wasn't sure he wanted to understand.
He was disgusted with himself for having to swallow the slight disappointment of not seeing Scout. But it was true that on the difficult drive back, the young runner had been on his mind. The reality that he could have died had sunk in once the adrenaline had begun to fade, and the marksman knew that he didn't want to die, never knowing how Scout really felt. He didn't want to die without talking to him again.
He got his wish much sooner than he thought, for when he switched on the interior light, a feeble voice from behind him said: "Whatever it is, Engineer, I don't care."
Sniper wheeled around, shocked by the knowledge that it was true: Scout lay on his bed, facing the wall. His body was rigid, and he looked like he was shivering, but he lay on top of the sheets, without any blankets.
When Sniper said nothing, the prone body on the bed mumbled: "Just leave me alone."
Any residual anger or resentment towards the boy immediately went out the window. "Roo…Roo, it's me."
As he stepped closer, the small figure lifted it's head, and Sniper's chest clenched. Scout looked awful. Large, dark circles ringed his eyes, and his skin was pale, as though he hadn't seen the sun in days. He could have sworn Scout looked even skinnier than usual, and his bright blue eyes, which Sniper loved, had a dullness in them. He looked utterly broken, the picture of a man who had suffered emotional destruction.
"Christ Roo, you look terrible! Have you eaten anything today?"
Scout simply gave him a long, sad look, before rolling back over towards the wall. "Fuck off, Spy."
"Wha-Roo, it's me. I didn't die, but I did get hurt, so it took me a while to get back here." Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he reached a hand out to touch Scout's shoulder, only for him to flinch away.
"Ya're not him."
"Scout, look at me, luv. I promise I'm not dead."
The words seemed to have no effect, as the runner curled up even tighter and resolutely kept his back turned. "I know ya guys want me ta talk to ya, but this ain't the way. Heavy says he's dead an' he has no reason to lie, an' that means he's gone…" Scout's voice tapered off, a watery edge coming into his voice.
Though he couldn't see his face, Sniper could tell he was crying from the slight shaking of his shoulders. His sobs were virtually silent, but they still crushed Sniper, and he would have given anything to stop his tears.
"Don't-don't cry. I'm roight here."
Scout flipped over once more, this time with venom in his eyes. "It's not tha same thing an' you know it! I don't love YOU! But I loved him, an' everyone says he loved me too, which I know ya would have hated. An' ya didn't even hafta do anythin' about it, because the universe fuckin' did it for you!"
He sat up on the bed, a little weakly, and glared even harder. "I bet secretly, you're real happy about this, so don't even fuckin' sit here pretending to feel sorry for me! He wouldn't have wanted ya in here anyway, so GET OUT!"
In spite of Scout's anguish, Sniper smiled a little. He couldn't help it, but he did have the sense to stand up from the bed when Scout looked ready to throw a punch at him.
"Come ta think of it, the spook didn't bother sayin' he was glad to see me alive when I got back. He might not even know I'm alright considerin' I don't remember seein' him."
Scout opened his mouth to say something-likely another angry remark, but the marksman stopped him.
"But ya know what else the spoi doesn't know? He doesn't know how you kissed me behind moy van when we got into that firefight on the way back from Vegas."
The anger in Scout's face faded abruptly, replaced by disbelief as he sat up even straighter.
Sniper chuckled. "Yep. Shook up my whole world, that one did. Just like when you got jealous in that crap bar after we got married, and told that shelia to bugger off. Spoi doesn't know about that either, does he?"
Scout shook his head silently, moving towards the edge of the bed and closer to Sniper. A smile was beginning to form on his lips.
"An' he doesn't know the way you looked at me when we got married. That couple and their friends, all those strangers were watching us, but I was foine because you were lookin' at me, and ya never let go of moy-"
He didn't have to say anything more, because Scout was off the bed and throwing himself at Sniper so fast he barely had time to brace himself before the shorter boy was burying himself in his chest.
The Australian embraced him back, wrapping long arms around Scout's torso and pulling him as close as he could. Even though he had known all along that Scout was safe, the amount of time they had been separated had taken a toll on him as well, and it was a great relief to have his husband back in his arms.
Speaking of said husband, Scout removed his face from where it had been stuffed in Sniper's shirt, took hold of his collar, and kissed him with everything he had. It was a messy kiss, laced with salt from Scout's tears, but the two mercenaries were certain it was one of their best kisses.
As their lips stroked together, greedy and desperate, Sniper could feel Scout's fingers digging into his hair. In response, he let one hand leave Scout's waist to cup the side of his face.
This provided more stability for them when Scout finally pulled away with a breathless laugh. "Okay, I believe ya, there's no way my dad kisses like THAT!" He stumbled a little against Sniper. "Whoo, dizzy…"
"Usually I'd say it's from the kiss, but ya haven't been eating, mate." Sniper told him as he gently guided the slightly unsteady boy to a seated position on the bed. Scout immediately tucked himself into Sniper's side, smiling up at him so widely that it lit up the dimly-lit camper.
"I'm so glad you're okay! What happened to ya, anyways?"
"Loike I said, I jumped off the roof before the building blew, but I broke my leg. Mighty hard to get back here with a broken leg, but I managed. The doc healed it when I got back, then I came to see you."
"Wait, but if ya lived, why didn't Heavy find ya?"
Sniper detected a hint of anger in his tone. "It wasn't his fault, mate, I hid moyself pretty well to avoid trouble with the coppers if they showed up."
"Ya should tell him that, tha big guy was pretty broken up about you dyin'. Not as much as me, of course, but he was sad."
The taller man smiled down at him. "Well, ya both can relax now, I ain't goin' anywhere."
He twisted to his right to gently hold Scout's face again, then chuckled as a thought crossed his mind.
"That's somethin' else only I know since I married you."
"What?" Scout asked carelessly, desperately waiting for Sniper to kiss him again.
Sniper's voice dropped to a lower register as he answered: "How ya taste." He covered Scout's lips with his own again, the runner's head tilting back from the force of the kiss.
His hands scrabbled over Sniper's neck and chest, memorizing everything he could for the inevitable times when he couldn't be so close to Sniper. But Sniper wasn't going to leave him again. He finally had him back.
Scout snaked one of his legs over both of Sniper's, scooting a little awkwardly until he was in Sniper's lap, straddling his groin.
The marksman chuckled again. "Already?"
A quick kiss was pressed to his lips. "I missed ya, what can I say?" His forehead came to rest on Sniper's shoulder again with a little sigh. "Gotta hell of a headache, though."
"Let's take care of that, then." The sharpshooter gently pushed Scout off his lap into a standing position, and stood up himself. Scout gave him a confused look until he was lifted off his feet and into Sniper's arms.
"Hey!"
"We're going to tha kitchen, and you're going to eat, even if I have to force feed you. Not too much though, that'll also make you sick."
"I could walk myself though-"
"Considerin' you haven't left the van in days and barely eaten, I'm not takin' any chances, mate."
Scout rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Alright fine, just this once I'll take the free ride. But just this once." He rested his head in the crook of Sniper's neck, only to be lowered back to the ground a minute later. "Hey, what gives?"
Sniper looked a little embarrassed. "Forgot to put moy boots back on."
"Jeremy?"
"Yeah?"
"Wut's that on moy floor?"
Scout sat up a little in bed, bracing himself on Sniper as he peered at the small white pile illuminated by the moonlight. The two of them had returned to Sniper's camper after Scout had eaten almost everything he had gotten his hands on. He had walked back to the van by himself, but he still tired more easily than usual. Thus, the two had reluctantly decided to leave anything sexual until the next day…if they could wait that long.
But that didn't mean they couldn't lie in bed together, cuddled in each other's arms. Both men had removed their shirts, and Scout had been enjoying resting his head on Sniper's chest until the man had posed his question.
"Ohhh those…those are the divorce papers you gave me."
"Ah."
Scout twisted to look down at Sniper's face, which looked up at him openly with sadness. "Ya never signed 'em, even though I was such a dick to ya. Why?"
Sniper reached one hand up to rest on his back, thumb stroking his bare skin. "I guess I was hopin' you would come back ta me. I wasn't ready to let you go."
"Hey! I did come back to you! I tried to tell you I loved you and you blew me off!"
Sniper chuckled. "I didn't know if ya were being serious just then. Besides, I wanted ta see you grovel a bit before I let you back in."
"Ya dick!" Scout hit him lightly on the upper arm before flopping back to lie beside him. "What about now?"
A soft pressure touched his face as Sniper's hand gently cupped the side of his face. "I think you've suffered enough, mate."
Scout let himself be guided into a kiss-what felt like their hundredth that day. Sniper's hand left his jaw and tangled into his hair, pulling him in even closer until their lips separated for air.
"Fuck, I-I'm so glad you're okay." Scout rested his forehead against Sniper's, who was now lying practically underneath him.
Scout's hold on Sniper tightened, reassuring himself that the man was still with him, that this wasn't a dream, he really had come back.
To his relief, Sniper seemed to sense this, and wound his arms around Scout's lower back with a murmured: "I'm here, luv."
"I know, I know. But when I thought ya were dead…I dunno, I felt like I couldn't breathe. It felt like I was never gonna be happy again."
"I'm sorry, Roo, but…when ya died in my arms that day, that's how I felt. If ya didn't come back, I would have to live the rest of my life without ya, an' I didn't know how I would keep going."
Scout's heart swelled with sympathy for his husband, and he placed one hand on the Australian's chest, over his heart. "I-I never thought about it like that. Shit, I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt ya, ya know that right?"
"Ah course, luv." Sniper placed a hand over Scout's. "So, where do we go from here?"
"I thought we were goin' to sleep…" Scout trailed off when Sniper raised an amused brow. "Oh, ya mean like US! I mean, I don't want ta break up…"
"Me neither, Roo."
"But…" Scout pulled away a little and lay down beside him again. "I also don't want to stop fighting. I love you, Snipes, but I like my job too, it makes me feel good."
Sniper sighed a little, then rolled to face the runner. To Scout's relief, he smiled. "Then ya should do it. I don't like ta see ya get hurt, but when I was out in tha desert I realized that if I could take care of myself, ya can too. Even though you were sitting here losing' yer mind, I was foine, and I was coming back. I need ta trust you, and you can trust me too."
He looked expectantly at Scout's face, waiting for the drawn out, convoluted answer he was sure was coming. But all the runner did was smile and answer "Okay."
The marksman chuckled. "That's all?"
"Yeah, I mean, I know ya can take care of yaself, ya fuckin' proved that today! An' who knows, maybe I should start thinking before I run into fights, kinda like you, ya know?"
Sniper smiled, lacing their fingers together. "I won't say no to you takin' it a little slower off base, since I don't want to ever want to experience losing you. But don't stop bein' yourself on base, I think you're pretty safe here, provided the doctor actually does his job."
"Besides," he placed a kiss on Scout's forehead. "I love ya the way you are."
Scout hooked a leg over Sniper's thighs with a beaming smile. "Is that your way of sayin' you want to stay married ta me?"
"Just try an' stop me." The sharpshooter growled playfully, flipping them over so Scout was lying underneath him.
Their lips met in a deep kiss, slower this time. They kissed tenderly, taking their time and enjoying being in each other's arms. All was quiet in the darkened van except for the sound of their lips stroking together and the muffled moans escaping Scout's mouth. When they pulled apart, Sniper tucked his head against Scout's neck, letting his breath feather across the flesh.
Against his ear, he heard: "I love you too, Mick."
"Jeremy…" He pressed a kiss to the runner's neck, revelling in the small whimpered Scout let out. He was never going to get tired of pulling sexy noises out of Scout.
A small swirl of wind swept through the camper from the open window, scooping the shredded annulment papers in an airborne pirouette across the room.
Sniper sighed in annoyance as a few bits landed on his bare back, but a smile crossed his face at the disappointed whine Scout let out as he pulled back to brush them away.
"We'll clean those up tomorrow." He muttered, distracted by the beautiful boy underneath him and already eager to get back to kissing him. "It's not like we'll be needing them."
"Nope. Take that, Spy!" Scout laughed loudly, pulling his husband down for a celebratory kiss, but he nudged him away when a thought struck him.
"Ya know what we gotta do now?"
The devilish, gleeful smile crossing Scout's face made Sniper wonder what he had in store for the rest of his life. It was a good thing he liked a challenge.
"We gotta tell YOUR folks that ya're married!"
The marksman groaned and rubbed his face. "They're not gonna be happy they didn't get ta come with me being an only child an' all."
"I mean, we could get married again." Scout answered from below him with a shrug. "I know Ma would like that too, and it's not like it was expensive the first time."
"Yer dad won't like it."
"Aw, fuck 'im." Was the response. "Ma'll just smack him upside the head if he says anythin'."
"You askin' me to marry you, Roo?" Sniper smiled down at Scout, who grinned back. Sniper wasn't much of a smiler, not in public anyways, and he was proud to put that expression on his face.
"Maybe…what'da ya say?"
Sniper kissed him again, their arms wrapping around each other as Scout tried to flip them over again. This resulted in them both falling on their sides, laughing and still holding onto each other. Sniper's grip on him tightened, yanking him across the bed and into his chest.
As he listened to Sniper's heartbeat with his head tucked under the sharpshooter's, Scout heard him say: "Course I'll marry you.", and his heart swelled.
"Hey…thanks for askin' me, ya know, the first time. I dunno if any a' this woulda happened if you hadn't."
Sniper's deep chuckle went right through him and warmed his heart even more. "Anytime, luv."
And that's a wrap on 'Marry You?'! I hope you guys liked it, and I hope the ending wasn't too abrupt, or too idealistic. The way I saw it, the only options for Scout and Sniper going forward was to break up, accept that their jobs are risky and stay together, or quit. I really couldn't see them quitting, and you guys would hunt me for sport if I had them break up so...they're taking the risk so they can enjoy their lives together while they're alive rather than pining for each other and being cautious. 3 I will finish 'Tricks and Treats' but there is ANOTHER Speeding Bullet chaptered fic on the horizon! The hints I will give you are: Fairytale/Medieval AU and Miss Pauling is there (finally, right). Stay beautiful and badass and keep watching out for more from me! 3
