We are being SO normal about this

Lian fought back a yawn as they stood in line for the checkout counter, a basket weighing down their other arm. No matter how they always planned to buy healthy ingredients when they paid a visit to this grocery store, they inevitably ended up with more snacks and frozen meals than fresh fruits and vegetables. Fresh foods were just so much more expensive, and finding the time and energy to cook full, healthy meals during the week before the ingredients went off was an uphill battle. 

They contented themselves with having picked up what felt like a reasonable amount of fresh food this time around. At this point at least, it seemed manageable to make a couple of meals with what they had selected, though how they felt about it by the middle of the week would very possibly change.

Idly fantasizing about a heaping plate of pasta with sauce prepared on the stovetop from fresh veggies instead of plopped out of a jar, Lian let their gaze wander over the interior of the little bun-only grocery store and the various other customers milling around. This shop was a little pricey for Lian’s budget, but its atmosphere was so cozy, and the groceries were always high enough quality that it felt worth the cost. Unfortunately, it usually turned out that a bunch of other buns had the same idea, so the place was often crowded; a checkout line this long was a normal occurrence.

Honestly between the price and the time sink, it probably saved them from spending even more money on trashy romance novels. Lian’s brain said “buy fruits and vegetables,” but their heart said “frozen cheese sticks and volume three of The Vampire Count’s Secret Mistress Confessed Her Love To Me!?” Being a responsible adult was so hard.

Sighing a little, they browsed the covers of the various magazines in a nearby stand as the checkout line crept forward. They were what you’d expect to find: glossy fashion magazines and gossip tabloids, with the occasional rag purporting to report on ghost encounters and blind dates with cryptids. (Millie May loved those. Lian called them “rags” affectionately; it wasn’t like they could judge anyway, given their own taste in literature.) They lingered over the newest issue of Bunstyle, which somewhat predictably featured the distinctive figure of Velveteen, striking a pose while decked in an outfit that probably cost more carats than Lian could hope to make in an entire year.

They weren’t complaining about that either, per se; Velveteen was famous for a reason, and that reason was that they were drop-dead gorgeous and would have looked as good wearing an old bed sheet as they did in designer clothes fresh off the rack. Lian could admit it to themselves: they were a basic bitch who liked pop fashion and trashy entertainment. Velveteen’s lofty, untouchable style may not have meshed with their tastes in real life, but as a pretty face on a magazine page… yeah, count Lian among their legions of fans. There was no denying it.

They pondered for only a few moments before picking the magazine up off the rack and laying it on top of the dry groceries in their basket. That would serve nicely as something to sigh over in lieu of the next volume of the romance series they had been following.

The checkout line edged forward once more, and Lian glanced back up at the bun ahead of them in line as they collectively scooted forward.

They paused.

They looked back down at the magazine that they had just placed in their basket.

They looked back up at that bun ahead of them.

Lian repeated this process a few more times, until it was likely verging on comical, but at the end of all that, they had come to a conclusion from comparing the picture on the magazine’s cover to the bun standing right in front of them.

Velveteen was here, in the same grocery store as Lian, standing not three feet away from them with their own basket of vegetables. The mask partially covering their face, whether for disguise, fashion, or health reasons, made it a little harder to pinpoint, but the shade of their fur and the markings on their ears and tail were just the same.

Lian had about ten to twenty seconds to process that before their brain kicked into full fangirl meltdown mode.

Holy shit holy shit, that was Velveteen! They were right there!!

Lian did their best to wrench their train of thought back under control. It was widely known that Velveteen never made public appearances in their bun form, and while some people liked to speculate on why, it was generally agreed to be for privacy’s sake. Lian couldn’t just go blurting out that it was them and blowing their cover.

But aaaaah that was THEM aaaaaaaah!

“Um,” Lian said before they could stop themselves. “Hey?”

Velveteen turned around and regarded them with a raised eyebrow. “...Yes?”

Aaaaaaaaaaaah!!

“Um,” Lian said again, because obviously they hadn’t thought this through. They were practically vibrating with the effort it was taking to contain themselves.

Velveteen’s eyes flicked down to Lian’s grocery basket, or more accurately, the magazine sitting on top of their produce. What Lian could see of their expression scrunched in probable displeasure.

“That asparagus looks good!” Lian blurted out, desperate to avert disaster however possible. “Where did you get it?”

Wow. Great job. Hey, where did you get those groceries, inside this grocery store?? Did the asparagus fairy poof into existence and bestow it upon you???

“...Aisle two,” Velveteen said. Their tone was low and a little scratchy, in contrast to how smoothly they talked in interviews. Maybe they really were sick. In which case, Lian extra super-duper shouldn’t be bothering them! Aaaaaaaaaahh-

“I’mgonnagogetsomethanks!!!” A mishmash of words that under normal circumstances would have been an ordinary sentence tumbled out of Lian’s mouth, and then they spun around and practically bolted for aisle two. They couldn’t even care that they’d just given up their spot in line. They didn’t even like asparagus.

Velveteen talked to them holy shit holy shit oh god oh fuck aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!

Could they post about this on their blog? They wanted so badly to post about this on their blog. If they left out locations, was it okay? Wait, no, that still ran into the issue of Velveteen never making public appearances in bun form. Lian couldn’t be the kind of fan who ruined that for someone. This was going to have to be a story that was shared among friends only, and they didn’t even have proof. Maybe they should have asked for an autograph before running off.

Lian spent several minutes loitering next to the greens, until they were sure that they’d calmed down enough not to start hyperventilating if they caught sight of Velveteen again. (They did not end up actually picking out any asparagus; they weren’t desperate enough for cover to spend more money on something that they knew they weren’t going to eat.)

Fortunately, the line for the checkout hadn’t grown much longer by the time they returned. Velveteen had made it up to the counter and was waiting while the cashier bagged their groceries; Lian kept their head down and stared daggers at their own food just to eliminate any possibility of staring at Velveteen like a complete weirdo. After a moment’s thought, they stuck the magazine beneath their bread for good measure.

When they finally made it to the front of the line, Lian laid all of their groceries up on the counter and then reached for their wallet. Before they could start counting out carats, the cashier waved them off.

“That blue bun who just left paid for your stuff! They said to just tell you to pay it forward later!”

Lian blinked at her several times before the words sank in.

Velveteen… bought their groceries? What, as a favor for not blowing their cover?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!

They were so telling everybody they knew about this as soon as they got home.