#and he flinches away when somebody playfully hits him or moves their hand too fast near him

[spookyboywhump]

I like the idea of Zander flinching away from somebody too because normally he’s the one who’s ready to take any beating, any pain for somebody else, he’s more than used to that kind of treatment, and he always wants to look scary and look like he’s not bothered by the people around them and the way they treat him but,,,,, he gets scared too sometimes,,,,,

[jbbuckybarnes]

Stranded in Manhattan

Description: You are stranded inside of the building your publishing agency is housed in. A snowstorm hit New York without warnings and you can’t leave for a few hours. What sounds like a boring afternoon ends up being quite the ride. Prompt: Stranded somewhere due to inclement weather (Seb x Reader) Length: 2,6k+ Warnings: Reader is written as someone with a skin tone that makes blushing visible. Just shoot me an ask if you want me to write something specific with a WoC reader. Always open for that.

M A S T E R L I S T

You had just finished your meeting for the next magazine. Writing articles for a lifestyle magazine was your favorite part of being a freelance writer. Well, not completely freelance. You were kind of part of the main team but not with a permanent contract. A look outside of the window had you roll your eyes and grumble. “You shouldn’t go outside for the next 2-3 hours. There is a warning out.” a female colleague outside of the meeting room looked at you. “Great. I’m just gonna draft my article in the foyer then,” you muttered before saying goodbye with a few kind words.

In the lobby of the building, there already were a lot of people waiting for the storm to calm down. There was only one couch left that wasn’t already occupied by at least one person and you let yourself fall onto the soft furniture with a small sigh. Laptop opened, the document opened and there you went writing the magazine article for next week already. At least you had WiFi in here and could research for your draft. Every ten minutes one or two new people came down in the elevator and sat down beside someone else. After an hour there were only 5 seats left in the entire lobby and you would probably be one of the next ones.

“Excuse me? Could I sit here?” you heard an oddly familiar voice and looked up. “Sure.” you smiled and pushed your bag to the side. There was a long moment of silence and you staring at your screen before you finally said something. “What were you here for?” you asked with a little smile and got one back. “My acting agency is here. Meeting.” he shrugged, “You?” “Publisher meeting with the magazine I write for,” you answered. “Sebastian.” he held out his hand. “I know. Y/N.” you smiled back at him. Contrary to your belief he didn’t change much after you told him you knew him. “Which magazine do you write for?” he asked curiously. “Flow magazine. Lifestyle, personal development, mindfulness. That kinda thing.” you blushed a little. It always made you nervous to talk about your job with people that weren’t writers. His natural cuteness didn’t help. “That’s cool. And what are you currently writing about?” he looked at your hands on the laptop that was half-closed. “Mindful Dating. It’s pretty weird to research and hard to not make it sound hippie.” you opened the laptop again to show that you had written half a page for your 2-3 page spread on the topic. “I assume it starts with mindfully picking the right person to ask out.” he chuckled and picked his water bottle from his backpack. “Actually starts with finding out what you even want and where to find it but that’s definitely a part of it.” you smiled a bit awkwardly. “This sounds so cool compared to my few pages of script that I currently have to get into.” he sent a shy smile back. “Does it become less fun to get into a character when you do it longer and professionally?” you ask to steer the conversation away from you. “Sometimes. Especially when I don’t have a lot of backstory for my character to get into.” he shrugged his shoulders. “I always loved doing plays in high school.” you looked away in thought about your high school years. “What did you have?” his head dipped to the side a little in curiosity. “Romeo & Juliette, Beauty & the Beast, some play local college students wrote and the last one was...Cinderella.” you counted them. “Any big roles?” he smiled with shimmering eyes. “I had the main role in the college student one.” you giggled. It was a really dumb play and your memories of it are really chaotic. “God, I’d love to see videos of that. You definitely seem like you could pull off a lot of different characters. I mean, the appearance.” he got a bit unsure at the end if he worded it right.  You couldn’t help but giggle a little, “Yeah, could pull that black wig off better nowadays tho.” “Um, what plans did that blizzard ruin for you? Never asked,” he said with a one-sided smile while scratching his neck. “Not much. Wanted to go write in the library or meet a friend but that clearly won’t happen,” you shook your head looking outside of the window before your head went back to him, “You?” He played with the strings on his hoodie, “Technically the rest of my day was finally a free day. So only ruined my Netflix marathon.” He saw you smile when he looked up from the strings again, “Well, I have WiFi and this building probably has a more chill area. We technically COULD watch Netflix.” Another unsure smirk from him with an almost apologizing smile coming back from you made the short silence weirder than it needed to be. “Sure.” he shrugged. If somebody would’ve told you, that you would be in an empty meeting room with one of your Top 20 favorite actors, watching Netflix because you were snowed in, you would’ve flipped them off. You were both sitting on the table beside each other and had spread out the food and water you had with you. Weird circumstances called for weirder actions in response. The Netflix logo popped up, then your name with a Jessica Jones icon staring at you and after that the list of movies on your big list. “What do you wanna watch?” you looked up at him and he was already looking at you. “You can choose whatever you want. It’s your account.” he held his hands up. “Brooklyn 99 it is.” you nodded and clicked on the next episode you needed to watch. You were a few episodes in when you just needed to let go of the thought, that you had held prisoner in your head for two episodes. “You're the perfect mixture between Jake & Boyle,” you mumbled. “Definitely more Jake,” he mumbled back, his eyes darting to look at the smile that had formed on your lips. You didn’t notice. And then Jake came in with his legendary guitar scene full of screaming. “Jep, definitely more Jake.” you laughed. He lightly nudged you with a small laugh. You weren’t wrong. Another 2 episodes went by and you checked your phone for the time. It’s been 2 hours now. Maybe you could go soon. “Another one?” he asked with a big smile on his face. “Of course.” you put your phone away and jumped over the outro to the next episode.

“It’s been over two hours. Let me check the warnings in Manhattan.” you took your phone after another two episodes and stopped the show with the other hand. Your weather app was showing an orange warning instead of a red one. “Well, orange should be enough to get home, right?” you looked up at him. “Depends where you live.” he smiled one of those half smirk, half innocent smiles. “Queens,” you muttered. “That’s quite a long ride in that weather.” his right brow went up. “I definitely don’t wanna stay in this uncomfortable and way too air-conditioned building,” you said neutrally. “I live 4 blocks away and there is a café on the ground floor we could stay in.” now the smirk turned into a real smirk. “Are you flirting with me?” you raised your eyebrow. “Been trying for almost three hours. Thanks for noticing.” he laughed lightly and saw you get a little flustered. “Umm.” with a shy expression on your face you put the laptop into your bag. “Don’t leave me hanging here after I asked you for a date.” he pouted playfully. You opened your mouth at the mention of a date but closed it again after no sentence your brain formed came out. “Sure,” you said with the biggest blush on your face after a few seconds. With a smile on his face and you biting your lip you both stood up and slowly left the building through the lobby that was much emptier now. An arm found its way around you, making you flinch a little. “Did you always live in New York?” his voice was harder to hear with the big jacket on. “No, moved here from Y/C.” you answered and got a soft smile in response while you held the hood of your jacket to stay on in the wind. “God, I hate this weather.” you stomped in the snow on the sidewalk like a child having a tantrum. “You kinda look like you enjoy it though.” he laughed at your attempt at kicking the snow. “I love winter. I hate that it gets so ugly and depressing so fast. I’m just here for the snow.” you pointed your tongue at him. If he had voiced his feelings at that moment, he would’ve probably told you that he wanted to pick you up and carry you the rest of the way for you to stop complaining about the wind. “Do that again and you have that snow flying at you,” he said trying to pinch you. “Don’t you DARE!” you played into it. “Watch me do it.” he smiled picking up snow and you started running. “He’s fast, strong, had snowballs.” you quoted laughing and a snowball hit your back. “The Winter Soldier is coming for you.” he made himself bigger but had a snowball landing on his chest after a few seconds. You looked at him innocently and he blinked before running for you and catching you with a growl that made you squeak. “Help!” you said giggling at this absolute dork moment you just had. “Target acquired. Bringing it to drop off location,” he said near your ear and started giggling like an idiot with you. The bell of the café door had the waiter in the almost empty room look up at the both of you. “Hello, Sebastian.” the man smiled at the tall brunette beside you. “Hey, can you make us two hot chocolates and two pieces of the chocolate cake, please?” came back at the waiter. Having someone help you out with getting out of a jacket felt weird. You weren’t used to gestures like that anymore and mumbled a small “Thank you.” You sat down on one of the tables and he leaned forward with a, “I won.” “There never was a competition, Stan,” you said putting down your bag.

“Didn’t mean the snowball fight.” he winked and watched you blush. Before you could say anything mugs and plates were set down in front of you. “Tell me about yourself.” he gave you an encouraging smile and you started talking. About your creative roots, what else you wanted to become when you were younger and how you felt about the things you did now. Some sentences had a vague political orientation in it and your stances on social issues. “Sorry, I’m talking a lot.” you noticed yourself rambling and looked down at the half-eaten cake. “No, I like listening to you.” he picked up the mug. “I’d like to know more about you too.” you smiled with some confidence from what he just said. He started talking about what he was currently doing, his mother, a bit about his roots and what his future plans were. He was good at this whole talking on a date thing. “You like astronomy?” he asked out of the blue with his fork pointing at you. “Yeah.” you grinned. “What’s the coolest thing about it?” he asked. “Nebulas. And I recently learned about hot Jupiters. Super interesting.” you mentioned the article you recently found while researching for a personal project. “A woman of class, I see.” he chuckled before taking his last bite of the chocolate cake. “No, a woman of space,” you smirked and got warm laughter back. You checked the phone again. The warning was on red again and a look outside of the window checked out with it. He noticed your look outside, “You can stay at my apartment. If you...want.” he said a bit unsure himself. “Uuuh.” you didn’t really know how to answer this. “Not in a weird way.” he distanced himself a bit from the table into his seat. “I guess I wouldn’t have another choice, even if I wanted to say no.” your soft expression had him visibly relax. You stood up, he gave the waiter on the counter the money and then you both made your way to a pair of elevators. “This feels mildly awkward.” you spoke out what both of you felt. “Doesn’t have to.” he smiled, snapping out of it. The moment the elevator opened you snapped out of it too. You knew there wasn’t anything to be afraid of. Yes, this was weird because you just met him but the circumstances were not in your hand. He was respectful, and if he wasn’t you knew how to kick his ass. Everything was fine. Even with both of you not talking in the elevator there was still a comfortable silence. That was until fingers started searching for yours and capturing your hand in a gentle manner. It’s not that you didn’t want this but it was very unusual and sudden. Like everything else today. Sure, you didn’t mind holding hands with pretty much anyone you knew but this wasn’t just anybody. This was someone you just had a proper date with and that kinda had your brain go in circles. “Relax, I’m not trying to get you into my bed.” he gently nudged you and locked down at you with a soft smile. “Sorry, I’m just not used to this...normality.” you tried to find a word for it, immediately shaking your head a little at choosing this particular word for it. “Welcome. Make yourself comfortable.” he said while you walked past him holding the door open. “Nice couch.” you pointed at it. It was one of those expensive, big, soft ones that everybody secretly wanted. You let yourself fall on it. He let himself fall next to you after throwing his jacket and yours over a chair. “Almost too conveniently placed.” you squinted at him beside you. “Hey! Don’t judge!” he laughed. “Too late. I judged.” you giggled before noticing his stare. “What?” your brow went up. “Nothing.” his eyes went away from your eyes and lips and looked at the ceiling again. “What are we going to do the rest of the evening now?” you asked. “More Netflix?” he returned a question. “Fine. But I only accept documentaries.” you grinned. Of course, the documentary he put on was about space and you both just absorbed the information you got. You didn’t even notice the arm around you after a while or the gentle pull towards him that had you cuddled up by the end of the documentary. “You’re a sneaky little asshole.” you said sleepy. “Only with pretty women.” his hand went through your hair. You looked up at him “Thank you for making this day much less boring.” you smiled and caught him staring again. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered so close to your face, his hand going from your hair to your jaw. With rosy cheeks, you nodded and had soft lips on yours a moment later. A normal thing to happen after a date but you still weren’t used to it. The thumb going over your cheek got you out of the overthinking again. Right now, all you wanted to concentrate on was those soft lips and that slightly scratchy skin. The hand cupping your face, the arm pulling you closer and the tongue brushing against your lower lip. Everything is perfect right now, no need to overthink it.

[shes-fast-like-me]

thanks, trouble

i feel like this is ooc now after octane’s lore bit but i had it done so it needed to be posted

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thanks, trouble

AO3 Link

Pairing: Miroctane (platonic or romantic, take it as you will)

Words: 1313

Warnings: canon-typical violence, guns, death, blood, implied child negligence (had to google that word!)

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It's dark and cold.

Octavio leans against the wall of the small, stone and metal hut. He's alone for the night. His squadmates are gone, dead at the hands of an enemy team. The closest respawn beacon is at Thunderdome, but he doesn’t want to risk being ambushed in the night, as the dropship's engines bring a lot of noise to the otherwise deadly silent desert. He hates nights in the Ring. He hates being alone.

He pulls the two banner cards from his pockets. The banners glow in the darkness, displaying the stats of his dead teammates. He goes over all of Bloodhound's kills and headshots and wins they've got proudly displayed on their profile. He thought he was gonna get carried. Guess not. He absentmindedly gazes at Ajay's profile for just a little too long. feeling kinda bad about not being able to help her when she was down. He kinda wishes they were both here right now. Then he wouldn't be so totally alone.

He puts the banners away and tucks his prosthetic legs up to his chest. He ponders whether or not he should try to sleep at all. Maybe if they take him in his sleep it'll be less painful, physically and emotionally. He’ll just wake up in the infirmary without having to worry about winning.

But he can't sleep. Not with all the adrenaline of being in a match. He can't fall asleep, was never really able to do it during a match, no matter what teammates tried to encourage him. Wasn't really able to fall asleep at all, ever, if he was being honest. He had trouble sleeping ever since he was a kid. Nothing his parents gave him ever fixed that problem.

Not like his parents ever cared that much honestly. He was used to being alone, but it didn't mean that he liked it. Too many bad memories. Nobody watching over him got him into a bunch of mishaps. He was such a troublemaker. Guess he always just acted out in hopes of gaining his parents’ attention. It didn't work though. They never even watched the Games.

Suddenly, he hears rustling outside, snapping him out of his thoughts. Really close, as if it were right beside his hut. His veins run cold. He scrambles to find somewhere to hide. The noise is definitely human, and definitely panicked. Just like him, just like him right now.

Realizing that he probably only has one chance to make a dash for it before the enemy team closes in on him, he pops a Stim into his thigh and runs. He slams the door open and rushes to the left, praying that he makes it to at least Thunderdome where he can camp safely until the morning to respawn his teammates. Instead, he runs right into what he was avoiding.

The stranger grabs him in surprise, stumbling from the impact. Instinctively, Octavio digs his Alternator between them and shoots, hoping that it will set him free. It does, and as the stranger stumbles back in pain he quickly knocks his elbow into their face, aiming to break their nose and hopefully stun them enough to get away. That is, until he realizes who it is.

"I'm alone! I'm alone!" Mirage--Elliott--shouts way too loudly for Octavio's comfort. He's still buzzed from the Stim and finds it hard to stop moving, so he bounces from left to right, shaking, as the holographic trickster explains himself. "My teammates are dead, I'm all alone."

Elliott clutches his face in pain and pants. Octavio notices that his nose is bleeding pretty badly. So is his gun wound, but Elliott seems to be less worried about that somehow. Octavio's empathetic nature kick in despite his better judgment.

"Hold on," he says, moving closer to Elliott, who flinches away. "Ay, sorry, I’m sorry," he approaches Elliott more cautiously, like a stray animal, "See, I'm alone too. Truce? Truce? Lemme look at your face."

He decides that he can trust Elliott. Elliott is smart but he's not that smart. He wouldn't be able to plan something like this on his own. And by now, if he did have a squad Octavio would probably be dead.

Elliott allows him to inch closer and touch his face, look at his bloodied nose. He clocked him pretty hard, huh? He bit back a grin. Elliott wouldn't see it anyway through the mask but he thought it was pretty rude to laugh at a guy he almost just knocked out.

"Put your head down for me, bro," he tells him. He knows how to treat nosebleeds, at least. He's not stupid.

Elliott complies and leans forward. "Okay, now pinch your nose right here," he demonstrates where he needs him to hold his nose and guides him to lean against the concrete wall, "and sit down."

Elliott does as he's told, muttering about how it was Octavio's fault that his nose was broken and Octavio reminded him how all the injuries sustained in the Ring weren't permanent anyway so he didn't have to worry about his pretty face getting messed up.

"You hit p-pretty hard," Elliott comments as Octavio pats his pockets in order to find where he's keeping his healing items. He's not using any of his own supplies on an enemy, no way. No matter how much of a friend they are outside of the Ring.

Octavio smirks, "Maybe you're just weak."

Elliott grimaces but obediently continues to rest against the wall and lets Octavio patch up his bullet wounds, holding his bloody nose. The blood is now all down his chin and on his outfit.

Octavio feels awkward. He needs something to talk about. He gets anxious when he has nothing to talk about.

"Ajay used to get nosebleeds a lot when we were little," he explains, "so I'm glad that knowledge isn't going to waste in the Ring now." He tries to laugh but he doesn't know why he's even bothering. This guy is just gonna kill him in the morning. That, or somebody else is going to do it.

"My brother had fre-freek-fr-- nosebleeds. A lot, too." He mumbles, as if he doesn't really want Octavio to hear it. He just nods in understanding. Elliott loves bringing up his brothers but hates talking about them. Octavio can't really relate, he’s an only kid.

He hums as he patches up the last of Elliot's gaping wounds. He checks out his nose, still covered in blood and definitely broken but at least it wasn't a pouring waterfall anymore, so that was good. Octavio figured a healing syringe would fix it up enough for him to not be bothered by it.

"Hey. Thanks, man," Elliott says once he is confident enough to stop holding his nose and Octavio gives him a hand to help him stand.

"Ah, don't mention it," he says, averting his eyes. He should go. He should leave and camp for the night. They're just out in the open right now.

"Heh, I was just looking for a place to stay the night but guess I owe you dinner now, huh?" Elliott jokes. Octavio smiles behind the mask.

"Uhm, yeah, you're paying for my next fast food feast," Octavio shoots back and Elliott laughs.

"How about a free drink at my bar instead? Any time." He flashes a charming grin and Octavio laughs and bumps his fist against the man's shoulder playfully.

"We'll see about that."

At some point during the night, they separate into different buildings. Octavio sleeps on the bottom floor of the tallest building. Well, if you can call napping and waking every five minutes or so “sleeping”, then yeah.

He finds a little gift in the morning though. A medkit, with a message scribbled onto it, probably with a sharp rock or something like that.

"thanks," it reads, signed "-trouble"

[puckmanhq]

SOMEBODY ELSE // ( nobias )

WHO: noah puckerman & toby berry ( @berrytobias )

WHAT: an unexpected moment

WHERE: puckersquad penthouse 

WHEN: july 23, 2019 @ 8:42pm

WHY: because at some point these two were gonna have to converse about some shit except did they? 

Usually, Puck would have gone on acting like Toby was some 'other' in his weird little family tree. The brother of his baby mama, his daughter's uncle, his kid sister's best friend. Always there off to the side, blurred and close but never the focus, bever directly in his line of sight. Not until a couple weeks ago anyway, when he'd woken up hungover as fuck, naked and covered by an equally undressed Toby. Was it any wonder he'd assumed they'd had sex. Suddently this consistant background presence was front and center, and there that tall lanky man remained, even now. With the end credits of Fast Five scrolling along the TV screen, Puck had barely even paid attention and that was genuinely surprising. I mean Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson made his entrance to the franchise in this movie and all Puck could think about was the last time he and Toby were on acouch together. "We'd be more fucked up than last time if we actually drank everytime a one liner was said in that fucking movie. But you've gotta try the apple pie moonshine, shit tastes legit, I promise."

Toby slouched back against the couch with a silent sigh. The space between them felt a lot more than it actually was, a lot deeper than the shadows hiding inside the cushion crevices. It felt awkward. He had really hoped the movie invitation would put him and Puck back at zero. He wanted to rewind them back before the glitter hug at the parade and before the naked version of off-key karaoke. But life wasn’t a stupid VHS tape. Toby lolled his head to the side, looking at puck with his signature lop-sided smile. "Either that, or every time they shifted gears.” Toby tapped his temple with a wink. “See, you fucked up, Puck. You can’t mention apple pie to me and not have me want to taste. I love dessert. I mean, I love food in general, but sweet stuff?” He wiggled. “Ooh, baby.” He then collapsed his fingers in a grabbing motion at his handsome host. “Gimme.”

"Dude you wanna get fucked up with gear shifts you gotta watch the second and third movie. Your skinny ass would definitely need a stomach pump trying to keep up with that shit." Already pouring a shot for his apparent drinking buddy, although he was taking it slow. Didn't want a repeat of last time, if anything was gonna happen he wanted his wits about him. A drunk him trying to make something more happen is, as his sister would put it, not it. Handing the full shot glass to Toby, he smiled a the grabby hands and that shouldn't have been as endearing to Puck as it was. Maybe he had drank more then he thought. Feeling his fingers ghost over Toby's as he tried to make sure Toby had a decent gasp on the glass he felt his body desperate to react and thank fuck he wasn't seventeen anymore and he had more control over his body. Without even realizing his body had moved even closer to Toby's on the couch, effectively closing the gap between them. "It's fucking good right?There's not even a bite to it. Shit is dangerous." Honestly, he was way too focused on memorizing everything about Toby's face as he spoke to even realize he'd said anything.

“You say that like I’ve never played this game with Ali. We’re pros, my dude.” Which was, only partly true. Semi-pros was probably more accurate. Their drinking games mainly revolved around obscure references and how many on-screen deaths there were. Toby didn’t flinch at the bump of their fingers or the warmth that radiated off them. Toby’s personal bubble was excruciatingly small. He had no issue with closeness, much to the annoyance of certain people. He scooted forward to properly take the shot, gently knocking Puck’s knee with his own. He lifted the glass. “Down the hatch.” His usual grimace faded as quickly as the drink fell past his throat. “Ooh shit.” He looked over at puck with exuberant child-like wonder.  “Bro,” he drew loudly, “that was tasty as hell.” He licked his lips. “You’re gonna have to hit me with another one. It’s--” He rolled his eyes at Puck’s warning. “Oh, come the fuck on. There’s nothing wrong with things being dangerous.” He handed over his glass forcefully. He was getting another shot goddammit. “That’s what makes life interesting, Puck. Live a little with me.” He thought for a moment. You know, kinda like last time. But not like last time, because you have AC,” he clarified. Toby cleared his throat. “Should we... Um.” He scratched the back of his neck with anxious fingers. “Should we talk about that night by the way? I know we didn’t do anything, but…”

Fuck, he’d been drinking water when Toby had the fucking nerve to say something as ludicrous as down the hatch, so naturally the next thing out of Puck’s mouth was water. Putting his glass down, he lifted his shirt up to wipe the water from his chin, running it down to his chest as well, before idly taking the empty glass from Toby. “Dude you’re already saying shit like down the hatch, I don’t think you need anymore.” Despite his words his actions said he was totally down with a two shots of moonshine in Tobias Berry, seeing as he was pouring him another as he fucking spoke. “Pretty sure I wrote the book on living a little. Chapter one, Knock up your best friend. Chapter two, get sent to juvie. Chapter three, drop out of high school. Shit, maybe if I’d finished junior year I could write a damn book.” Honestly, he was going to just act like Toby hadn’t brought up the thing Puck had spent weeks trying to forget even happened. Wasn’t that like the unspoken thing? What happens on tequila is forgotten forever and whatever you do remember you pretend you fucking forgot. Did no one tell the kid the rules of Añejo? Handing him his shot and taking one himself, he wiped his bottom lip before clearing his throat. Looking intently at him, Puck tried to read him, figure out if he wanted to say something without actually having to say anything, but he didn’t know the younger man well enough to do all that. Throwing his arm around the back of the couch around Toby’s shoulders, still looking at him. It was like Puck didn’t have that much control over his fucking body and he wasn’t 100% sure where the fuck it was going to take him next and maybe that was his way of living a little. “Sorry can’t remember, what was it that didn’t happen again?” He asked with a slight smirk, looking between Toby’s mouth and his eyes, Puck suddenly knew exactly where his body want to take this.

Toby tossed back his shot before answering, hoping the liquid courage would coat his throat and make everything he wanted to say smoother, sweeter, and more like the taste that was already fading from his tongue  “I know you can’t remember, Puck. That was the whole point of talk--” Toby blanched. Was… Was Puck putting the moves on him? It was all there. The smirk. The arm move. Toby’s pupils dilated. Was Puck looking at his mouth? “Oh God,” he spoke absentmindedly. “I mean, um…” His heart doubled its speed as he forced his gaze away. Why did he suddenly feel like he was 15 again? He didn’t still have a crush on his sister’s baby daddy. That was idiotic. “Aliyah said we…” Toby swallowed and regained his composure. “She said that we were being drunk jackasses and we sang karaoke and shit. Got naked at some point?” Cuddled. “Then we, um. Then we passed out. Nothing happened. But I wanted to make sure you weren’t weird about it, I guess?” Toby laughed nervously. “You know what? It’s fine. Water under the bridge or whatever.” Toby patted Puck’s thigh. “That cool? We good?” He didn’t move his hand.

As the other spoke, Puck looked at him intently, holding back a smile as he recounted their tale all those weeks ago. Once them getting naked was mentioned he could feel the slight pressure from him biting his bottom lip. Honestly it made him think it was kind of a shame they hadn’t made out, would have taken care of some of their current tension, but then that would be so much less fun. A flustered Toby was, kinda hot. Barely even registering what the younger man said before he finally stopped talking, Puck just looked down at the hand resting on his thigh and nodded. There were a couple of way he could probably lead this moment, and he was definitely going to be the leader, which should surprise exactly no one. Option one was to just say, yeah man we’re good, and laugh that shit off and let everything just settle into something normal and expected. Option two though, “Kinda a shame, right? That we didn’t make out, at least. That would’ve made the morning after hangover so much more worth it.” fuel the tension and see where it goes. Clearly, the dude was attracted to him, I mean who wasn’t? and Puck.... Puck would label it healthy human curiosity, after all he just wanted to know what it would be like to make out with Toby, nothing to dwell on there. So he leaned in, maintaining eye contact to see how close the other would allow him to get. When he was so close he could the other man’s warmth, he stopped looking at his lips before looking back up to his eyes, searching for permission.

Toby’s heart continued to thunder in his chest. He thought he had grown out of this feeling years ago. Again, he reminded himself he wasn’t a goddamn teenager with a crush. Puck wasn’t ruffling his hair as he walked past him to get to Lucky. Puck wasn’t playfully punching him in the shoulder. Puck wasn’t doing that nod of appreciation for babysitting on such late notice.. No, this was different. Very different. Puck was looking into Toby’s eyes, into Toby’s fucking soul. “A shame?” he repeated. “I mean, we could have for all we know. I think Aliyah caught the tail-end of our whole drunk singing thing. Maybe we did kiss before she showed up. And we just forgot. Like everything else.” Tobias Berry was on fire. “I don’t know about making a hangover worth it, Puck.” His headache for the entirety of the Pride Parade came to mind. “Though,” Toby laughed to himself. “I’ve actually been told I’m a really good kisser.” He licked his lips unconsciously. “Five star reviews.” Oh God. Was he doing this? Was he actually doing this? “We can make it worth it now,” he spoke quietly. “If you want to.” Eyes closed, Toby neared Puck’s lips with his own.

Up until two years ago, Toby was Lucky’s kid brother, then he was Lucky’s kid brother and Jo’s uncle. Then he was Lucky’s kid brother, Jo’s uncle, Aliyah’s roommate and Stevie’s best friend. To Puck, Toby had always been someone somebody else knew, he was always in his peripheral vision, a familiar but out of focus figure in his mind. Then the night before the IHQ Pride Games happened and suddenly he could see the younger man so clearly it was almost blinding. Had his hair always been that curly? Had his smile always been that endearing? Had he always talked this much? Had his voice always sounded like that? At first he thought maybe he was just doing this because he could, you know, like he always did. Saw someone attractive, charmed his way into their favor and did what came natural because he needed a release but that wasn’t what was happening. Not really, I mean, if it were he’d have shut Toby up at ’A shame?’ or been too focused on his mouth to hear anything he was actually saying, but he could’ve recited him word for word right now. Then, as if in slow motion, Toby assumed the, ‘kiss me’ position and Puck felt his instincts kick in and he had a hand on his face, the pad of his thumb tracing his jawline and he was so close and then those four words rung in his head; ‘If you want to.’ and he realized he really fucking did and that was kinda fucking him up, because Toby wasn’t just some dude, he was ingrained in the fabric of Puck’s life and somehow he was just now piecing that together. Resting his forehead against Toby’s, he knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t think of a single reason why as he closed the gap between them. It was slow and something else that Puck would later find was... meaningful. Fuck.

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Would you believe me if I told you my story {2}

Chapter summary; Who doesn’t love a witch? Right now you as one tried to read your mind and are pressed up against another.

Pairing: Avengers x reader (will change over time)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 2/?

Word count; 3.129

Warnings; Swearing

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

SERIES MASTERLIST

When your face came into the dimmed light, your skin shone at the first contact, soon fading revealing your natural features. Most people are drawn to someone's eyes, something which wasn't any different in your case. Your eyes had such a peculiar colour, most of them were shocked.

They seemed to glow in the poorly illuminated room and was so crystalline, they couldn’t restrain themselves studying them. They were normal coloured ones and not different in that particular part. But what enchanted was the iridescent layer over them.

“Now you see me”, you said with a twinkle in your eye, eyebrows playfully arched, while a smile tugged at your lips. You placed your hands at the back of the couch, seemingly relaxed. Yet, if anyone paid enough attention, they would've seen your nails dug into the fabric under them.

“I recognise those eyes”, Thor mumbles, his deep voice sounding like a hum. What he said went unnoticed by you, but not by his surrounding teammates. Nat gave him a questionable look which he didn’t answer, even Steve gave a quick glance back at Thor, not paying any mind to it as he saw the god wouldn't elaborate. Steve looked at you, noticing a playfulness he didn’t trust. Lowering his hand, he gave you a nod, a sign that he heard you, but also for something else to take action.

“Why are you here?” He asked you.

You heard his word though it took you time to deliver an answer, thus you fought against any and every sense urging you to take upon flight. Looking down you took a deep breath, feeling a coldness wrap around you as the realisation hit you couldn't show them this weakness. It was at that moment when memories you hid far back in your mind, started to seep to the surface, you knew something was wrong. It felt like a mist seeped into your head, prodding around with its dull edges. It came closer to the front of your mind and that’s when the understanding hit you, later than you would’ve wanted it to.

Mindreader.

The mist lunged like a snake to remain in some part of your head while you tried blanking it out. It was trapped, but you could feel it trying to find a way out, though, you knew it couldn’t. Nonetheless, a shiver went down your spine at that thought, that their own little witch had come so far.

However, even though knowing who the culprit was, you didn’t advert your eyes from the Captain. Noticing how the silence made him and the rest nervously fidget. Yet that wasn't what you concentrated on, instead, it was a small movement that emitted a tiny red light.

”Not even the Captain can play fair”, you tutted looking at the man before you, who narrowed his eyes.              

”What do you mean?” The redhead, Romanoff questioned, taking a step forward, making her stand beside the Captain.                

”What I mean is that the righteous man himself play tricks. Distracting me so somebody could search my mind”, you ended in a low voice, switching to look at the witch. ”So girl, what do you think you’re trying to do?” You inquired, nodding your head to point out her hidden hand. It stilled, the mist doing the same, drawing to the back of your mind, almost as if covering like a scared animal. While doing so, you noticed her face pale, not much though still visible. Her eyes grew big, her ragged breath showing the struggle she was having.

It had become silent once more and you swept your gaze across the team, noticing similar emotions on all of their faces. Besides one you didn’t look at, fear already withdrawing your gaze to enter that section.

“It’s sad you couldn’t play by the rules Captain, it would’ve made this so much easier”, you said to him, disappointment lacing the words. Before you continued, you opened your arms. ”Avengers, you don’t want me as your enemy. So I suggest that your little witch stops poking around in my head, for both our sake. My first and last warning”. The last part of the sentence came out near a growl and you knew it sounded like a threat, honestly neither far from it. Though pointing this out to their witch and the Captain himself, made everyone ready to defend both parts, at least by the looks of it. Though it seemed it wouldn't come to that, as the Captain sighed and nodded, to which Barton placed a hand on the witch’s shoulder. This made the mist slowly try to clear up, which you let it, taking down the walls slightly, enough for it to vanish. Peace at mind, you let out an inaudible sigh, hoping nobody noticed.

“Hey, you can’t actually think that you just could come here and threaten us”, an angered voice exclaimed… Stark. You swore that you didn’t count Starks attitude into any part of the plan. Letting out a big sigh, you rubbed your face.

“Someone ever said that you should work on shutting up”, you stated to him, shifting your weight to your right hip.

“I don't think so, care to share a thought?” He countered with, making you glare at him. This time you saw that he didn’t flinch, instead he looked at you with the same fire.

“Tony! Enough we don’t want to provoke her” the Captain sharply said to him.

“More then what we’ve already done”, you heard someone mumble in the back. And if it was the comment, hinting defeat to Stark, you noticed how he straightening himself, ready to further argue with you. Yet whatever though he was to word, you cut him off so it remained simply that.

“Hold what you're about to say for yourself, Stark. The last time someone didn’t, it didn’t end well", you advised him, more warning him and to your surprise, he actually stopped, as did everyone else. You felt that their spirits towards you faltered, something inside them change when they heard, what you should almost classify as a pleading warning. Once again it got quiet, this time it made you more fidgety then them. The warning came with the imagines of an event you tried to prevent from happening again.

“What happened?” You looked to the one who asked it, Banner. He adjusted his glasses, nervous under your gaze.

“People got killed”, you felt your voice tremble, so before continuing you cleared your throat lightly, low enough so they wouldn’t notice. ”And the fault was mine”.

“Why did you do it?” Barton asked and when looking at him, you weren’t met by what you thought would. He didn’t look angry, just sad. You knew you couldn’t show it, but you felt touched by it. Yet your answer came out nothing hinting at such.

“I don’t know”, not even before the words left you, you felt something pulling you towards those memories. At first, you tried ignoring it, shoving them away, until you recognised the familiar feeling. It made your mood switch and you snapped to look at her.

”What did I say about looking through my head”, you held your head high, jaws pressed together, biting your cheek to not say anything too stupid.

If she was so inclined to know, then she would do it at her own cost, not yours.

“Don’t do anything harsh now” Stark said, which made your brows furrow.

“I’m not going to do anything harsh”, you began, switching to look at Maximoff. “But if she wanted to look in my head, it should be at her own cost”, you continued, knowing damn well knew your next move would be more than a bit risky even in a game such at this. A slight tingle began in your spine, travelling up and out through your body. In your mind, you only concentrated on Maximoff, all the while you looked over the rest of them. Some of them got closer to her, ready to defend her if you lashed out. But they would be surprised.

“Calm down now”, you saw Barton taking a cautious step forward, letting go of her shoulder that he had held. It looked like he tried to not provoke you, at the same time, drawing the attention away from the witch. The power that tingled in your whole body began to buzz as you gently fuelled it to become stronger, only focusing on the girl before you while doing this.

“Don’t complain later”, you calmly stated to her, the sentence sharp. Before she or anyone besides yourself knew what was happening, you felt something hot, similar to tears fill your eyes, as a yellow light flashed before them.

The cage around her mist disappeared. At the same time, she noticed she tried to pull it back, doing so you let your powers invade her. It felt like a spark of electricity surged through your body as the two forces met. As she understood what happened, it was too late, her powers already back to her and a yellow light swept across her eyes, fast enough to miss if you blinked. She winced after the small spark that you had felt nothing but seconds before. Your mind felt clear, hence the reason you leaned back on the couch, arms crossed, just looking at her.

”What did you…”, she started but didn’t get any longer before her face scrunched up in a grimace. A scream ripped out from her, making everybody, even yourself wince. She clutched her head while she fell down to her knees.

Everyone had their eyes on the girl, which now broke the silent room with her agony screams. They could only resemble her screams for those of pain, which served as an alarm clock. Barton, who stood in front of her not long ago, had his arms around her shoulders, clutching her like a small child. Wilson also hurried to her side, together with Romanoff and Stark. They crouched down around her, looking like they tried to find the cause of any physical pain. Stark looked towards you with a miserable look, none of his proud aura left from before.

”Stop it, stop whatever you’re doing”, he said, voice shaking and strained. You looked at him with pity, shaking your head.

She kept screaming and you tore your gaze away from Stark’s pleading one. You knew everything looked horrible, with you just standing there calmly, but it wasn’t as bad as it looked. You knew that nothing of what was happening to her would leave any pain as soon as it was done, neither any effects then memories, which was the only thing that made you able to be this calm.

Nobody looked at you at the moment, everyone tried to help Maximoff out from her agony. But your assumptions seemed to be wrong. Your focus had also been on the women, so you hadn’t noticed someone looking at you, until now. Shifting to look to the right, you saw Vision. He hadn’t the same stressed expression as everybody else still, he looked more heartbroken than the others. In the same instance, you detected those feelings from him, you saw questions emerging in his eyes. Looking away from you, he moved towards Maximoff, kneeling down before her. He placed his hands on either side of her head, forcing her to look at him through her now heaving sounds and teary eyes.

You studied him, trying to understand what he was about to do before feeling it. His powers began to rise and because you didn’t know what he was fully capable of you did a quick swipe, retreating your powers. Maximoff's features went back to normal and she looked up at you, tears brimming in her eyes. Trembling, she staggered up to a standing position, getting help from Vision to do so.

”The pain, h... how could you withstand it?” Her shaky voice mustered to get out. She looked pale, almost sickly so compared to earlier. Looking her straight in the eye, you answered.

”I could not”, to this, she looked down. Everyone looked confused, not say that they probably wondered what the hell your conversation was about, beside one person who until now had been quiet.

”Witch”, Thor’s voice boomed as he took two striding step forward standing in front of everybody. ”You’re the witch!” He stared right at you with narrowed eyes. His body looked tense, almost stiff from the anger you could feel and see radiating from him. Instead of feeling frightened or anything like that, you calmly nodded. He finally figured it out.

”What do you mean that she’s the witch?” Wilson suddenly asked before he continued, looking at his teammates ”Because I’m am certainly not the only one wondering".

Looking at him, you tilted your head, a silent question to ask if he remembered. He answered your question, at the same time as theirs.

”I met her, a long time ago”, he stated continuing to look intensely at you.  

”You did indeed, Thor Odinson, I started to believe that you’d forgotten”, you chuckled lightly. He shook his head to you, while his hammer came flying to his outstretched hand. Pushing off from the couch, you took a challenging step forward, cocking an eyebrow at his actions.

”Thor I suggest that you put down your weapon, this is getting out of hand”, Banner spoke up, he tugged at the end of his shirt arm, switching to look from you to the god. You felt that he was uneasy, knowing exactly why. As his eyes shifted to yours once more, you mouthed a breath. This made him frown, but you saw that his quickened breath slowly got better.

”Can someone please continue with the storytime about who she is", Stark suddenly exclaimed. It made you look away from Banner and what you thought was an unnoticed conversation until you noticed Romanoff studying you. You looked back to the big man in front of the group, doing so, he saw that you weren’t in a hurry to explain things to them.

”I met her on Asgard. I do not know who she is, although my mother and father do know those things”, he began before you continued lightly.

”For one simple reason”, he nodded continuing on your phrase.  

"That it is. My mother and father had been in a serious meeting in the throne room for a whole day. Nobody really knew what it was about, neither guards were in there as they usually would”, he paused and before he continued you saw him take a shaky breath. ”As dawn approached, I decided to get to the throne room myself to know what was in the doing. Stepping inside, I saw her, or rather a younger girl standing beside my mother, before my father. Acknowledging my presence, they ended what they were doing with curt nods and the girl leaving. The cloak hid most of her features, though when she looked up at me, the only thing I was drawn to was her eyes”, he ended looking back at you almost as if you would confirm what he said.

”What did they tell you about her?” The Captain asked and such pure curiosity you hadn't heard this evening, an amused brow raising at the fact.

”Nothing”, Thor admitted. ”When I asked who the young girl was, they didn’t tell me more then she was someone with magnificent abilities, nothing more than that. They didn’t deem I had anything to do in the matter, for that time being”, he reluctantly ended. The team all looked at you again and you calmly filled them in.

“They did it to protect me”, you started, taking a few short steps forward as if consoling the man before you. You knew even without him saying anything that he wondered the same question as those many years ago, why? “I met your parents for how lives would be able to resume”, you ended. At this, he looked up, a realisation of why they didn’t tell him. But at the same time, something for him must have snapped because his calm was suddenly gone. He took a step forward and threw his hammer.

Your eyes grew wide as it raced towards you. You felt your body take over the control, even though your panic raised ten folds of it doing so. Taking a quick step to the side, you felt the familiar buzzing you feared. It came as a shockwave throughout your body, a low humming nonetheless as the feeling of needles prickled your skin. Then a violet colour flashed before your eyes.

It happened so fast you almost didn’t know if you did anything or just stood there like a fool. But you acknowledged your hands moving out on their own. As the hammer was right beside you, it slowed down enough for you to put your hands above it. With all your strength you pushed down, the hammer following your movements. The crashing sound and vibrations brought you out from your trance. In your actions, your body had turned sideways, so you needed to turn towards the team once more. Once doing so, you noticed them all looking at you and the mighty hammer that now was beside you on the ground.

“Not a good move Prince of Asgard”, you criticised. Instead of being met by an angry-looking Thor, as you thought you would. He stood there with a small smile looking at you as if he was the one who should use the phrase you did.

”Made you look”, he shrugged as he shifted his glance to something behind you.

No. You tried to turn, leap away or simply do something, but it was as if your instincts of escaping was set to zero, energy drained since fighting it for so long. You felt a hand clutch around your throat and you tried to push away from it, but your hands suddenly were in a tight grip behind your back.

Instead of succeeding, with anything, you felt yourself being pushed back by the hand on your throat. Gasping for air, you followed the movements, forced to step back to not lose the ability to breathe entirely. When you’ve taken your second step back, you felt yourself being pushed against someone. Anxiety soared as your eyes widen. You struggled to get away, but when your air intake began to decrease, you ceased your movement. You tried to focus on your breathing, so you wouldn’t pass out from the lack of it.

”Well, which one?” You froze, feeling the hot breath beside your ear. Every move of his lips touched the shell of your ear.

Taglist: @flowerchild1216 @krystallynx @colie87 @ohhhmyloki @haven-in-writing @lancsnerd​

[elysianstars]

Fic Teaser: Pawn to King

The Corrin/Niles fics I’m working on right now are 22k and 31k words respectively, and still only halfway done because I love this pairing so much and want to write about them forever. So here’s a preview from one, as proof I am still Creating Content and Contributing to the Fandom and all that.

The slaughter at Cheve doesn't bother Niles unduly. Everyone dies, and these people just had it coming sooner than anyone realised. For most of them, it was quick and moderately clean. It's not always that way, when Nohrian rebellions are stamped out.

Corrin, on the other hand, takes it badly. Oh, he puts on a brave face in front of the troops, but he's transparent enough for the pain to show, if you have an eye for such things (which of course, Niles does). Lives are precious to him, inexplicably so. He's cut his share of enemies down, when the situation demanded, but Niles has heard the apologies he mumbles. It's a contradiction that should be irritating, yet in Corrin it's so sincere; it's simply how he is. 

The next day they part from the main army, gaining a chance to retreat to the astral plane, and lick physical and emotional wounds – not that Niles has either, and he isn't inclined to help anyone else out. So he tells himself, and yet as dusk falls, his feet wander up the spiral staircase to Corrin's treehouse retreat. There's a glow of candlelight from the windows, confirming that the prince hasn't retired yet.

He hears voices as he ascends, and realises someone has beaten him to it. A glimpse through the window reveals Corrin playing chess with Leo, grinning at some playfully competitive jibe. Felicia offers a plate of cookies to a beaming Elise, while Camilla is engaged in needlework, looking up from lace and coloured threads to cast indulgent eyes over her younger siblings. Quite the cosy little scene, far more wholesome than any distractions Niles could have offered.

...It was a stupid idea, intruding here, imagining there'd be a welcome for somebody like him. Niles leaves, unseen, and retires to his own quarters in the castle. Stone and mortar are good enough for him.

Nightmares descend, when he tries to sleep. Rattling around, wrenching at his subconscious until he flinches awake, knotted covers kicked off the bed. No connection to Cheve, because these images are different species of violence, blurred together until he doesn't know what's based in memory, and what his own wretched mind has invented. What he does know, from long experience, is that they'll come back if he tries to sleep again, so he's forced to get up and prowl the grounds, volatile energy crackling through him.

The arena has a row of wooden target dummies, set up for practice when no matches are taking place. Scarred sentinels, casting shadows beneath the moonlight. At first he tries to use archery as something calming, measuring breaths as he draws the bowstring, visualising a slice of his tension flying free with each arrow, focusing on precision. That gets boring fast. He follows with tricks, ducking and spinning between non-existent foes and obstacles, attacking every dummy in line, relishing the burst of violence and the perfect kill-shots he's been forbidden from against real people. He imagines each dummy with a face from his past. Imagines – or in certain cases, remembers – their expressions of fear as they realise they're about to die. Pain searing through them, their loss of control.

For the last one in line, seeing that expression at a distance isn't good enough. He drops his bow, pulls out a dagger instead, runs forward and stabs it savagely into the blank wooden head, where the right eye would be.

From explosive motion to stillness. Niles stares at the dummy, breathing hard, sweat chilling his skin. Exhaustion hits suddenly, sapping both strength and his bitter, aimless anger, dragging it down beneath the surface of his mind again. He turns away – and his heart jolts, seeing a figure in the shadows.

Straining for composure, he grabs the dagger, forces a smirk onto his face and tries to come up with some especially vulgar line to throw the trespasser aback. “Enjoying the show? I can-”

“It's all right,” Corrin says, quietly. He moves closer, and the moonlight flashes silver off his armour, battle-ready even at an hour like this. “Sorry. I thought I'd try some practice too, but... I thought...” He shakes his head. “If we'd been stronger, quelled the rebellion faster, and had time to talk, then maybe we could have saved them. But it wouldn't have mattered. Father would still have wanted them dead.”

Niles isn't certain what to do with this unexpected piece of confiding. For an instant, anger flares. He knows he didn't belong up in that treehouse, so why is Corrin here in front of him now? As if Niles has something special that his family didn't. As if he's some fountain of compassion who'll offer pats on the back and kindly advice. He's not, and makes it blatantly, boot-in-the-face clear to everyone, so there'll be no risk of misunderstandings like this. And yet Corrin stubbornly carries on.

Even stupider than that, Corrin's behaviour makes him want to actually be this fictional, non-terrible version of Niles. Just for a while, for this one person. The anger flickers and then fades, like a dying heartbeat.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Beauty and the Beast- Part 4

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 1,752

Warnings: Sam fluff, alternative universe, sassy reader, sassy dean, language(?), maybe that’s it?

Author’s Note: I DO NOT own anything from Beauty and the Beast. All credit goes to their respective owners. I DO NOT own the rights to the lyrics, dialogue, or any of the characters. I am so excited for this series and I hope you are too! I do, however, only have this first movie written and am trying to work on the second movie. 

So, if you want to become a Queen or part of the Sam Fam, shoot me an ask. If you want to be tagged for this series, I am also accepting those as well. 

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

The next morning, you were pleased to see snow covering the ground outside the castle. You didn’t wait for Sam to get up, although he must have been up since he always woke up early in real life. You grabbed your coat as you ran outside, glad to be in the snow.

You bypassed your horse that you rode to the castle, running to one of the more open fields on the property. You laughed, scooping up some snow and throwing it in the air. You loved the snow and, living in Kansas, you got a lot of snow in the wintertime so this was so exciting to you.

You laid in the snow and began making a snow Angel, something you often did with Castiel back home. He always cheated, though, using his actual wings to make the imprint in the snow, but you never complained since you loved seeing them anyways.

You were just about done with your snow angel when you saw Sam leaning over you with a smile.

“Sam, hi, look! It’s snowing!” You said excitedly.

“I see that. Remember how I said I wanted to show you something that I thought you might like?” He said with a smile.

“Yeah, why, what is it?” You asked. You forgot about the library scene, your mind focused on the snow outside.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I tell you, now would it?” He asked, holding out his hand. You took it and he lifted you with ease, staking a few steps back to look at your work.

“Remember when I used to do this with Cas? He would always cheat and use his real wings. I miss Cas. I miss home.” You said, walking with Sam back into the castle.

“Well, then we shall finish this movie and return home,” Sam said with a smile, walking down a hallway to a room with humungous doors. Oh! The Library! You’ve always wanted to see it in person. “Okay, close your eyes.” You did as you were told and he opened the door, leading you inside the room.

“Can I open them now?” You asked.

“No, not yet. Wait here.” Sam said, leaving your side and to the curtains, opening them. You flinched when the sunlight hit your face but you still didn’t open them.

“Now can I open?” You asked.

“Yes.” Sam said. You opened your eyes and gasped, seeing the library of your dreams. Whenever you watched Beauty and the Beast, you always wished to have a library like this. Two stories filled with books of any kind of nature. You wanted to read them all but you knew you couldn’t, making you somewhat sad at the thought.

“I can’t believe this, Sam. I’ve always wanted a library like this my whole life. I mean, the library in the Bunker was good, great, in fact, but this is the library that I wish to have.” You said, admiring the whole room.

“Then when we get back, we’ll turn one of the empty rooms into your own personal library.” Sam said with a smile. You smiled at him, glad that you two were finally moving the story along. But you would miss this once it was gone because of the amount of fun you were having. While you do love Disney movies, this wasn’t your favorite.

“Come on, I have breakfast waiting.” Sam said, walking to you. You grinned and took his arm, letting him lead you to the dining room. He pulled out your chair and you grinned, sitting on one end of the table and Sam sat on the other while the dishes made their way over to you, food already inside their bowls.

You took your spoon and started eating your breakfast, looking at Sam who had trouble eating his. His overly large hands made it impossible to handle anything small. You giggled and he shot you a look but you would compromise with him.

You put down your spoon and picked up your bowl, signaling to him that he does the same. Sam picked the bowl up and raised it up as if he were clinking his bowl with yours. You tipped the bowl and drank from it, Sam doing the same.

Once breakfast was over, you were back outside, playing in the snow. Birds were around and you were feeding them with Sam but Sam had a hard time trying to get them to land on him. He tried offering his hands that were full of bird seed but they wouldn’t approach him, scared because of what he looked like.

Sam sighed, and looked at you for help. You giggled and made a show to the birds that he was gentle, leaving a trail of bird seed from his hand. The bird ate a few seeds from the ground then hopped into Sam’s hand, eating the bird food there.

He smiled up at you and you giggled, walking over to one of the trees to observe him from there. When you turned to face him, you couldn’t help but let a laugh escape you. There were tons of birds on him until he shook them off.

You smirked, getting an idea. You gathered snow in your hand and threw it at Sam who narrowed his eyes playfully at you. He gathered up much more snow in his hand, ready to throw a giant snowball at you but you were quick to throw another one at him, making him drop his.

You laughed and ran away from him when he started to chase you. You were just having fun until he caught you. Once touch on your hand, he frowned.

“Are you cold?” He asked.

“Just a little.” You said, smiling up at him.

“Let’s go inside and why don’t we read a book from the library. We can warm up by the fire.” He suggested.

“I think that sounds perfect.” You said, taking his arm and letting him lead you inside the castle to the room with the fireplace. As he got the fire ready, you escaped to the library to grab a book you knew you and Sam would both enjoy.

You walked back to Sam and took off your jacket, hanging it on the hook. You sat with Sam by the fireplace, opening the book and starting to read from it. You often did this with Sam as you curled in his lap, letting him read you the book.

Sometimes, you wouldn’t even pay attention, you would just listen to the sound of his voice, letting it lull you to sleep. This was one of those times and before you knew it, you were leaning against Sam, fast asleep.

Sam was reading from the book and when he looked down at you, a big smile came across his face. He loved it when you fell asleep on him. He saw a stray hair that fell and he used one of his claws to brush it back, careful not to hurt you.

He picked you up bridal style, walking to your room to put you to bed. Tomorrow was a big day after all.

The next night, Sam had asked you for a dance in the ballroom. You eagerly agreed, letting the wardrobe help you with a dress. You were very excited for this scene. You got out the beautiful gold dress and put it on. You grinned at the wardrobe who nodded fondly at you.

You did your hair, putting half of it was up in a bun and letting the rest of it fall down in natural waves over your shoulder. Checking your reflection once more, you walked to the door.

You opened the door and walked out, seeing Sam already there and waiting for you. You smiled, seeing how handsome he was and descended down the stairs. When he heard the clank of your heels, he turned to you, his eyes going a bit wide.

Music started playing and you grinned; you might even love this song more than Be Our Guest. Once you met him on the landing of the stairs, he offered you his arm which you took. You and Sam walked down the rest of the stairs, ready to start your dance.

Tale as old as time True as it can be Barely even friends Then somebody bends Unexpectedly

You grabbed Sam’s hand, seeing how he looked as if he didn’t want to hurt you, and placed it on your hip. His hands were so big, they covered your hip completely. You grabbed his other hand with your right one, placing your left one on his shoulder.

He grinned, gaining a little more confidence, and pulled you close, dancing along to the music.

“You’re very handsome.” You whispered to him.

“You’re very beautiful.” He whispered back. You danced with him, waltzing in a way you never seen Sam waltz before. There were times when you two were on case and had to dance in a ball room while Dean was off doing what he did. Sam was a good dancer and being a Beast didn’t change that at all.

Just a little change Small, to say the least Both a little scared Neither one prepared Beauty and the beast

Sam spun you around, bringing you in close and you giggled, coming together closer than you were before. He danced with you and you placed your head on his chest, glad to be with him. You liked Sam very much, even before getting transported in this Disney World.

Tale as old as time Tune as old as song Bittersweet and strange Finding you can change Learning you were wrong Certain as the sun Rising in the east Tale as old as time Song as old as rhyme Beauty and the beast

Sam dipped you and moved you gracefully all across the ball room, showing you just how good of a dancer he was.

“When we get back home, we’re so putting a dance room in the Bunker.” You said to Sam as you danced.

“Anything for you.” He said with a grin.

Tale as old as time Song as old as rhyme Beauty and the beast 

The song ended and so did the dance. You and Sam walked outside on the balcony and you looked up at the stars that shone bright in the night sky. You grinned at Sam and sat down on the bench, Sam following your action.

The Queens:

@maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876 @innernightwerewolf @wishedworld @justanotherdeangirl @crispychrissy @laqueus-ludovicus @nostalgic-uncertainty @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @potterhead1265 @starswirlblitz @untitled39887 @ta-n-ja @deans-fallen-angel-boy @scarletluvscas @notnaturalanahi @tahbehonest

The Sam Fam:

@elma-shay @xxno-wayxx

[setepenre-set]

Take Me Out (part 3)

prompted by @bow-before-princess-kitkat, who sent me this post. (link contains spoilers for the fic!)

Megamind/Roxanne, PG rating, pre-movie au

AO3 | FFN

The Metro City Wolverines are the worst team in the MLB. So Megamind, using the disguise watch to manage the stadium’s illegal betting pool, is understandably shocked when Miss Ritchi (at the stadium on a ‘date’ with Metro Man…and his mother) wants to place a bet that the Wolverines can win against the best ranked team in the league. But then, maybe the luck is turning for all of Metro City underdogs…

The Wolverines go up to bat in the bottom of the eighth with a sort of desperate determination.

Megamind is leaning forward in his seat, frowning, intent on the game. The first batter gets out on a fly ball. The second batter grounds out, but the third hits a ball that, strictly speaking, should probably just have been a single, but he keeps on running and makes it to second base.

It gives the fans, and the players, a new confidence; the fourth batter hits a single and the runner on second makes it to third.

The Eclipse pitcher checks the runner on first five times, throwing two balls and a strike to the batter in between. When he throws to the first baseman instead of the batter a sixth time, the Wolverines fans, Roxanne and Megamind among them, boo. A foul ball on the next pitch, and the count is two balls, two strikes, with two outs already.

The next pitch, the batter hits a fly ball into the gap between the third baseman and the centerfielder, and the runners go. The third baseman pounces on the ball swiftly, though, and throws it hard to home plate. The catcher gets it, and the runner’s just barely out at home plate.

Megamind’s leg is bouncing when the Eclipse come up to bat in the top of the ninth; Roxanne finds that she’s gripping the armrests of her chair very tightly. Like an omen of disaster, the sky overhead is darkening, clouds moving to block the sun as the day turns overcast.

The Wolverines’ pitcher, though, is on fire this inning, and retires all three batters in just eleven pitches.

The sky is still getting darker, and rain is rumbling in the distance as the Wolverines come up to bat in the bottom of the ninth.

Megamind glances nervously at the sky. Rain is threatening and the disguise watch isn’t waterproof. He didn’t even think to make it waterproof.

—he should very definitely make some excuse to leave. If his disguise fails, it is going to be very bad. Metro Man is on Roxanne’s other side, and Roxanne—

Ohhh evil gods help him, if Roxanne finds out who he really is, he might not live to get pummeled by Metro Man. She held his hand; she’s going to be enraged.

Beside him, Roxanne shifts closer in her seat, until her arm, on their shared armrest, is pressed against his.

…oh who’s he kidding; there’s no way he’s leaving now.

Their first batter strikes out swinging hard at a fast ball inside, their second is struck out looking, and just like that the Wolverines are down to their final out.

The batter hits a long, long fly ball, that, if there were any justice in the universe, should have been a home run. The left fielder for the Eclipse, though, jumps up and reaches over the wall and snatches it out of the air.

The tied game goes to extra innings.

In the distance, thunder growls.

"Crab nuggets!"

Wayne jumps suddenly to his feet.

Roxanne feels Megamind flinch beside her, but Wayne isn't looking in his direction at all, is facing the vendor who has just spilled a whole glass of beer in his lap.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Sir; I'm so sorry about that,"  the girl says, trying to wipe him down.

Roxanne raises her eyebrows in amusement as Wayne goes beet red and tries to fend the girl off while not appearing to be fending her off.

"That's--nnnn--that's--quite all right...Citizen, no harm, just--I can--napkins--you--uh--"

"Oh, I feel so bad; your beautiful pants! Here, let me help you--"

"Citizen--"

"Let me just--"

"Citizen--"

"--just get that for--"

"CITIZEN PLEASE!" Wayne yelps, "YourAssistanceIsAppreciatedButUnecessaryThankYou!"

"I've got a towel!" The girl says.

Wayne makes a wordless sound of horror and, under the stares of everyone in their section, ignominiously flees.

The girl looks after him with an expression of...satisfaction? Why would she...?

Megamind gives a choked laugh beside her and Roxanne turns towards him.

He looks at her as though he's afraid she's going to be angry. For a split second, Roxanne tried to look serious, wanting to tease him, but the expression in his wide green eyes has her laughing, too, before she can stop herself.

"Poor Wayne," Roxanne says, laughing.

"Oh, and poor us, being deprived of his presence," Megamind says under his breath, looking up at her through his lashes.

Roxanne smacks him playfully on the arm.

"You're mean," she says, laughing still, "very bad."

"Oh, Miss Ritchi," Megamind murmurs, "you have no idea."

Roxanne looks at him, arching an eyebrow pointedly.

“You sure about that?" she asks.

Megamind tilts his head, looking at her, looking confused and uneasy.

"Well?" Shufty demands. The whole group of them are crowded together eagerly.

Priya’s friend Mia shakes her head. They all groan.

"Nothing definite," she says. "I think she implied she knows, but it’s nothing we could prove."

"I told you all," Shufty says. "How I let you talk me into this--"

"Be patient!" Priya says. "Tom, is Lady Scott still busy?"

"Yeah, the line to the ladies' room's about a mile long," Tom says. "Saw her standing at the back of it."

"Good, good," Priya says. "Now just wait."

Shufty eyes her balefully. Damned optimists.

(The sky grows just a little darker.)

Wayne comes back in the top of the ninth.

He sits down, takes out his phone, and begins texting furiously, his fingers flying as he frowns intently at the little screen.

In a tragic reversal of his beautiful pitching in the last inning, the Wolverines pitcher seems to have gone all to pieces. He hits the first batter in the second pitch. The second batter hits one foul ball out of play, but then the pitcher misses outside three times in a row, throws a pitch that's in the dirt, and walks the second batter.

The crowd shifts restlessly, the fans of the Eclipse booing as the catcher goes out to the mound to talk to the pitcher.

When he gets back to his place behind home plate, it seems like the talk might have done the trick; the first pitch is a strike.

Sadly, though, it doesn't last; the next pitch is low, the pitch after that high. Another pitch is high, and the count is three balls, one strike.

The pitcher stands tensely on the mound, rolling the ball between his fingers.

Roxanne hears Megamind take a deep breath and then hold it--

The pitch--a hesitation on the part of the umpire—but it's called a strike.

The pitcher throws and the ball is fouled back out of play.

Full pitch count: three balls, two strikes.

Another ball founded back out of play. And then another and then--

A walk. The crowd groans.

The bases are loaded now, and the Wolverines’ coach goes out to the pitcher’s mound to take him out of the game.

The sound of Queen's Crazy Little Thing Called Love starts up, the sign that the Kiss Cam is about to begin during the dead time of the pitching change.

An old couple comes up first on the big screen. The white-haired old lady points excitedly at the screen, then turns to give a quick kiss to her husband. A couple of young women are the next couple, one in a Wolverines shirts, the other in a red Eclipse ball cap. The one in the Wolverines shirt gives her girlfriend a kiss and steals her girlfriend’s hat while she's distracted. There's a chorus of laughter and cheers.

Roxanne smiles and stretches her legs out, stretches her hands towards her feet.

It's while she's mid-stretch that the Kiss Cam moves to her and Wayne.

It gives her an unpleasant jolt, seeing herself up on the screen; she straightens up quickly.

Oh no; why? Why did they have to pick her and Wayne out of the crowd?

(Metro Man and his famous reporter girlfriend; she should have been expecting this)

She smiles; an automatic reaction to knowing she's on camera, grits her teeth, and turns towards Wayne. Get this over with quickly, she thinks.

(Megamind is right there beside her and she wants to scream with frustration.)

Wayne, intent on his phone, hasn't even noticed that they're on the big screen.

She taps him on the arm and he grunts but doesn't look up.

"Wayne. Wayne," she hisses. "We're on the Kiss Cam."

He does look up at that, looks up and gives her a look of dismay.

And shakes his head mutely.

"Wayne--"

"It's Metro Man!" somebody shouts.

"Roxanne Ritchi!" Someone else calls.

"--just give me a quick peck on the cheek," Roxanne says in an undertone, mortified by now.

The entire stadium is staring, more people are shouting their names.

“Kiss her!”

“Kiss for luck!”

“For luck; kiss for luck!”

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

"No," Wayne says, making a face almost of disgust, and okay, now Roxanne is mad.

(How dare he embarrass her like this, in front of all these people, in front of--)

Roxanne turns suddenly to Megamind, meets his eyes.

"Do you want to kiss me?" She asks, blindly furious. (Out of the corner of her eye, Roxanne sees the video feed on the screen jerk away from her and Wayne to pan over to her and Megamind.)

"Yes," Megamind says.

That's all Roxanne needs to hear; then she's twisting to face him even more and leaning forward and--

And she's kissing Megamind.

He's kissing Roxanne. Kissing. Roxanne.

Roxanne--

He freezes for a moment when their lips touch, not knowing how to--

And then she tips her head just a little and--

And that's it, he forgets everything, forgets their audience, forgets her superpowered boyfriend sitting not two feet away, forgets it all, forgets everything but her.

She's--

(This is your one chance Megamind the universe has given you this single chance to kiss Roxanne Ritchi. One kiss, just one, so make it as good for her as possible)

Megamind cradles her face gently in his hands and tried to pour everything he feels for her into the kiss, all of the things he's never been able to say, will never be able to say because of who and what he is.

I love you Roxanne you're so brilliant and beautiful and good and I love you completely and entirely I love you I love you I love you

She makes a sound against his mouth and presses closer to him, parts her lips for him and lets him lick into her mouth and sink his fingers in her hair and--

He's breathless and flushed when she pulls away; Roxanne's cheeks are pink, too, and she looks--

She looks very kissed.

Somewhere in the crowd, somebody wolf-whistles.

The consciousness of where he is and what he's doing hits him hard and sudden oh god Metro Man—

On the field, the new pitcher throws the first pitch. The Kiss Cam turns off and the crowd turns its attention to the game.

(oh. oh god she kissed Megamind in front of an entire crowd what was she thinking oh god—)

Roxanne can't bring herself to regret the kiss. That kiss was--Megamind kisses like he does everything, throwing his whole heart and soul into it.

Megamind kisses like he's in love, and his voice, his expression, when she asked if he wanted to kiss her and he said yes.

(Like a man dying of thirst offered water, like he was desperate, like the chance at kissing her was something unimaginably precious and does Megamind--is--can he be--?)

"Roxy," Wayne says in a choked voice. “Embarrassing—“

Roxanne, giddy and just a little dazed, turns to him.

"We're done, right, Wayne?” she blurts out. "We can be done pretending to be together, now, yeah?”

Wayne stares at her, clearly caught off guard. For a moment, he hesitates.

“We--"

“Please,” Roxanne says in an undertone.

Wayne lets out a long breath.

"Yeah," he says, "that would be--" he gives her an awkward smile and scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry; I've kinda been a jerk today. It’s just I've been—uh—well—“ he taps his phone against his knee, “—I’ve been talking to someone."

Roxanne blinks.

"Wait, talking-talking to someone?" She asks.

"Yeah, and I...well I just finally asked him out," Wayne says in a low tone. "And then there was that—“ he waves a hand at the big screen. “—kiss thing—and I couldn’t—right after.”

"Oh. Ohhh," Roxanne says, understanding dawning, "yeah, no, obviously not.”

Beside her, Megamind makes a weak noise of bafflement. Roxanne reaches out without turning and puts her hand on his knee, wanting to make sure he doesn't bolt. He is not just running off after a kiss like that; she has to know if he--if he meant it, if--if Megamind maybe--maybe could feel about her the way she feels about him.

"So?" She says to Wayne. "What did your guy say?"

Wayne gives her a sheepish, pleased smile.

"He said yeah," he says.

"Nice," Roxanne says.

Megamind makes another wordless noise of confusion. Roxanne squeezes his knee and he goes silent and perfectly still.

“Oh—" Wayne says, looking over her shoulder and giving Megamind a reassuring friendly smile. “Oh, right—yeah, no worries, buddy."

Wayne glances at Roxanne's face; she feels herself flush at his speculative expression. He grins, looking over at Megamind again.

"Me and Roxy are just friends, really."

Roxanne glances at Megamind, blushing even harder. He looks stunned, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

"So anyway, I think I'm gonna go ahead and head out," Wayne says, just a little too loud and overly casual. "Find my mother, beat the crowd out. You guys good here, Roxy?"

Roxanne looks back at Wayne; he moves his eyebrows at her suggestively, gesturing with his head at Megamind in a way that is not subtle in any way at all, whatsoever. She rolls her eyes at him, her face positively burning now.

"Yes, Wayne; thank you; goodbye," Roxanne says pointedly and he snickers.

There's a moment of awed silence in their little group after Metro Man moves past Shufty and the others, headed towards the exit.

"We broke up Metro Man and Roxanne Ritchi," Mia says in a voice of amazement.

“Yes, we did,” Priya says, smiling like a satisfied cat with a bowlful of cream.

Shufty thinks he might be warming up to this girl after all.

Roxanne has her hand on his knee.

Roxanne.

Has her hand.

On his knee.

She has her hand in his knee and she just kissed him—well, kissed Miguel the bookie, anyway—in front of Metro Man and Metro Man was fine with it because apparently they were never actually dating, and Megamind thinks maybe he's died and gone to evil heaven,

Roxanne has her eyes fixed on the field now, like she's avoiding his eyes, and he would think that she's regretting the kiss, but she still has her hand on his knee so that can't be it, right? That can’t be it.

There's a pink flush along her cheekbones--embarrassment? Or--or maybe it's excitement--

Megamind has never regretted not being a bookie more. Not being Miguel. She likes Miguel. Why couldn't he just have been born Miguel?

(Maybe he can just wear the disguise watch forever, yeah that's a good and totally reasonable plan.)

His mind spinning and his lips tingling, Megamind looks blindly out at the field, mentally replaying the kiss in his mind.

The disguise watch...as the first drops of cool rain begin to splatter down onto the crowd, onto his head and arms, a thought about the disguise watch attempts, unsuccessfully, to get his attention.

(Roxanne turning her head just so and pressing her lips against his like—)

The thought about the disguise watch fades into unimportance.

They've missed the end of the top of the tenth, Roxanne realizes, looking out at the field, and half of the bottom of the tenth.

It's still tied; there's two outs and one runner on second. The Eclipse pitcher is throwing to the fourth Wolverines batter and the runner goes, stealing third base.

The pitch count is two balls and one strike and the batter hits a fly ball that is caught by the center fielder.

In spite of the fact that most of Roxanne's focus is taken up by the fact that she has her hand on Megamind's knee (her hand! on his knee! and he’s letting her!), she joins in the collective groan that the crowd gives at the stranded runner.

(It's really, really unfortunate that Megamind's holographic disguise, however it works, extends to texture as well as visual appearance. When she'd kissed him, she'd wanted to feel the scratch of Megamind's goatee, the smooth shape of his head. She'd wanted to kiss him, not the damn human disguise.)

It's raining now, as they move to the top of the eleventh, the score still tied--light splattering raindrops. The people seated around the two of them keep glancing at Roxanne and Megamind and whispering together, probably speculating at the content of Wayne and Roxanne's last conversation, at the way Wayne left her here.

(The way they were both smiling as he did it is probably giving rise to a lot of confusion, Roxanne thinks wryly.)

The first of the Eclipse batters comes up to the bag and on the first pitch--the first pitch--hits it out of the park.

Roxanne surges to her feet, grabbing at her hair in dismay. Megamind jumps to his feet, too.

"No no no no no," she groans as the ball flies over the fence. "Come on."

Megamind makes a noise of miserable agreement and turns to her, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"That's it, then," he says. "It's over." He gives her a small bitter smile. “I told you not to back the long shot."

"It is not over," Roxanne says forcefully. "We have the entire rest of the inning yet to play!"

"They're going to lose," he says, and he sounds more resigned than anything, never mind their bet. "They always lose. That's how it goes.”

Roxanne opens her mouth to argue and a thought occurs.

(The petition she signed to keep the team colors, all the comments people made at the time about blue being an unlucky color in Metro City, all the comments they’ve made about Megamind, about him always losing.)

"Not this time," she says. "They're not going to lose this time, Meg—Miguel.”

She reaches out and grabs his hand, squeezes it quickly, then lets go to clap as the pitcher gets the second batter out.

The two of them stay standing through all the rest of the top of the eleventh. At first it’s mostly Roxanne cheering, but eventually Megamind joins in as well, whistling loudly and joining her as she claps. Their enthusiasm spreads to the rest of their section; soon they’re all on their feet, shouting loudly for the Wolverines, whistling, and clapping.

It seems to give the pitcher new life; he retires the next two batters on strikes.

By the time the first of the Wolverines goes up to bat in the bottom of the eleventh, nearly the whole crowd is on their feet. The Wolverines players look dazed but determined; they’re obviously still shocked that they’ve come this far, against the best team in the league, shocked at this much enthusiasm coming from their fans.

The first batter gets a single; the second strikes out swinging hard, clearly aiming for a home run. The third batter gets out, too, also swinging, but the fourth is hit by a pitch and walks to first. The fifth is walked—four pitches, all balls, no strikes at all.

It’s raining harder, now, but no one in the stadium crowd looks ready to leave, even when the Eclipse call for a pitching change and play is stalled.

The Eclipse pitcher on the mound doesn’t seem to want to go, ends up arguing with his catcher and his coach. The stadium starts up the music for the Kiss Cam again, probably to cover the awkward moment.

This thing called love, I just can't handle it This thing called love, I must get round to it I ain't ready

The first couple is a middle-aged pair who give a surprisingly dramatic kiss.

Someone in Roxanne and Megamind’s section—a popcorn vendor?—whistles and then shouts—

“Over here!”

—and gestures wildly at Megamind and Roxanne.

“Yeah!” another voice in the section shouts, waving their arms. “Here, over here!”

“Didn’t they already—?”

Roxanne hears someone ask.

“Yeah, and it worked last time, didn’t it? Got us out of the inning—”

“Kiss for luck!”

“Roxanne Ritchi!”

“Over here!”

“Oh god,” Roxanne mutters as the two of them appear again on the big screen. She turns to Megamind. “Look, I’m really sorry about—”

It is at this, the most inopportune moment, that Megamind’s holographic disguise disappears.

“—heh—“ Megamind says, unable to do anything but give that stupid, panicked little laugh.

Oh god.

The watch.

The rain.

Oh god oh no.

(oh god it’s like a nightmare everyone staring, everyone seeing him, and Roxanne looking at him with wide eyes and opening her mouth to yell at him for being such a freak, for tricking her and kissing her and—)

“It wasn’t waterproof?” Roxanne blurts out loudly and Megamind blinks at her because

that’s not what he expected her to say and

it almost sounded like she already knew it was him but that can’t

“Oh my god, Megamind,” Roxanne groans. “It’s always the simple stuff with you—”

“—ah?” Megamind says weakly.

(the crowd is still frozen and silent, shocked at his appearance, but soon, he knows, the screaming will start and he’ll have to run because he’s not even wearing his spikes, not wearing his protective suit; he’s in these normal clothes because he wanted to feel like he belonged with these other fans when he went to this game and god why is he so stupid; how could he think—)

“Not waterproof,” Roxanne says scathingly, and then she’s leaning forward and—

—kissing him?

Wait—but—that’s—what—

Oh, but she is very definitely kissing him, one of her hands sliding up to hold his face for a moment, then slipping around to grab the back of his head.

Megamind makes a small, shocked sound and Roxanne parts his lips with her tongue and hooks the fingers of her other hand one of the belt loops of the jeans he’s wearing and pulls him closer.

And Megamind still has no idea why this is happening—why is she kissing him? Roxanne knows it’s him, and she’s still—she’s still—

—but answers suddenly don’t seem anywhere near as important as wrapping his arms around Roxanne and kissing her back.

Roxanne breaks the kiss, both of them gasping, and, from the back of the section, a group of people burst into applause and cheering.

There’s half a second where the whole crowd seems frozen, and then someone in the next section bellows.

“Yeah! Let’s go, blue!”

—and suddenly, impossibly, the rest of the stadium is cheering, too.

“Wait, what’s the date today?” Megamind hears someone a few rows up demand from their seat mate.

“Twenty-eighth, why?”

The first speaker groans.

“Damn it, I had my money on the thirtieth!”

The crowd continues to cheer, Megamind looks around wildly.

Why are they cheering? They can see him! They know it’s him! Why are they cheering for him?!

He looks back at Roxanne, who still has her fingers hooked firmly in his belt loop, as though to keep him from getting away. She’s—

—she’s laughing, her eyes shining and her cheeks flushed, and she’s looking at him.

“…you knew it was me?” Megamind says, still not believing it, but unable to come up with any other explanation for—

She bites her lip and gives him a look that actually seems—fond.

“Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, I did.”

“When?!” Megamind demands. “When did you—and how could you possibly figure—”

Roxanne shrugs.

“You said my name,” she says. “And I knew it had to be you.”

Megamind gapes at her. When he said her name? She figured it out when he said her name? That means—that means she knew after the first sentence he said to her as Miguel; that means this whole day, all of the talking and the flirting and the kissing—

That means she always knew it was him.

Roxanne leans forward and kisses him, quick and chaste, almost like it’s a punctuation mark to her statement that she knew it had to be him.

“—oh,” he says, dazedly.

“—so I was kind of wondering if I could take you out sometime, Megamind,” Roxanne says, in a rush.

Megamind stares at her.

She looks back at him, and her eyes seem just a little uncertain, suddenly.

Roxanne just—Roxanne just asked him out on a date.

And she’s looking at him now like she thinks maybe the answer might be no, and that is just unacceptable.

Megamind leans forward and kisses her swiftly.

“Yes,” he says. “Yes, definitely yes.”

Roxanne’s whole face lights up in a smile.

The sound of a bat cracking against a ball makes both of them turn to look at the field, just in time for them to see Leo Alvarez hit a walk-off home run and win the game for the Wolverines.

Shufty, Tom, Priya, Mia, and all the rest of their group cheer as Leo Alvarez rounds the bases and the Boss leans in to kiss Miss Ritchi once more.

“You know, you still owe me two hundred and forty dollars on that bet,” Roxanne points out later, after he drives her home and walks her to her apartment, after she invites him inside and they kiss on her couch for so long that Megamind loses track of time.

Megamind laughs breathlessly and nods.

“I don’t get it,” he says later, after they’ve stopped making out and are just lying on her couch together, tangled up with each other.

“Hmm? Don’t get what?”

“I don’t get—I—why in evil heaven did they cheer?”

“You mean after the second kiss?” Roxanne says. “I—well, I think it’s because you were wearing this, honestly.” She hooks a finger in the collar of his blue Wolverines hoodie and pulls him in for a lazy kiss.

“The shirt?” Megamind asks, when she lets him go and leans back. He frowns, still confused. “It’s just a Wolverine’s shirt.”

“Mmhm,” Roxanne makes an affirmative noise. “A Wolverines shirt. You’d clearly risked a lot, going to that game, Megamind. And you weren’t doing it as a supervillain. They could see that. Because you were wearing a Wolverines shirt. You were doing it as a fan.”

“…blue losers have to stick together?” Megamind says.

Roxanne smacks him lightly on the shoulder.

“Fans stick together,” she says. “And we won today, Megamind.”

Megamind smiles at her, slow and amazed and joyful.

“Yes,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her again, “yes, I did.”

When the Wolverines win the World Series later that year, Roxanne and Megamind are right there in the stadium to see it, holding hands and cheering.

the end.  💙⚾

notes: The Metro City Wolverines are a fictional MLB National League team--Michigan did have a team called the Wolverines, but they were located in Detroit and the team disbanded after 1888. In this ficus alternate version of history, the Wolverines moved cites instead of disbanding, becoming the Metro City Wolverines. 

The Louisville Eclipse were also a real major league baseball team that played in the National League, though their name was changed and they folded after the 1899 season. In this story, they continued to play after 1899, and also switched back to the Eclipse name.

Thank you for all of the likes, reblogs, and comments on the previous chapters! I hope you all enjoyed the final part of the story! <3