#and the second time i knew she’d show up because she’d placed a pickup order with us lol

[fingertipsmp3]

You know what it is. She says the right things, but never does the right things

[kingpreciouswrld]

I'll Be There For You

Fluff Prompt- “I just want to be there for you”

Pairing: Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Andy just wants to be there for Miranda, even if that means she works behind the scenes to help the editor.

A/N: My first official fanfic. I haven’t watched The Devil Wears Prada a lot and to be honest, I think I’ve only seen it twice, but I love this pairing so much that I wanted to research and study both characters and the movie before I wrote this. Took about two days before I was finally happy with the whole thing :3

_______

It’s been six months since Paris Fashion Week. Six months since she decided to stay. Andy didn’t know why she stayed. Well, she knew why, but it wasn’t for the fashion scene.

It was for Miranda.

The commanding, direct, cutthroat, white-haired fashionista who stole her heart. Miranda said that she saw herself in the young woman: strong work ethic, driven, and devoted. Was it a compliment? Andy likes to think so, yet it intimidated her so much. So much so that she almost walked out on the woman. But Andy didn’t dare to think about life without seeing the editor daily.

So she stayed.

_______

“Go to Cartier and get 25 necklaces. Watch them pack it, last time they were tangled and Miranda fired at least three people that day. Then go to Calvin Klein, the showroom. I’ll give you the address. Ask for Ivan, tell him we’re doing a reshoot tomorrow, we need at least ten skirts. Stay away from Liz, she isn’t that helpful and on your way back, pickup Miranda’s coffee. Remember, one no foam skimmed latte with an extra shot and three drip coffees with room for milk. Searing hot”

Andy shooed off the new second assistant while she stayed back to man the phones. Miranda was out for the morning and it was Andy’s job to train the girl. This was the fifth assistant since Paris and each girl was slowly getting better than the last. Andy was promoted to first assistant when Miranda moved Emily to the art department. The job duties weren't different from when she was second assistant though the dynamic between Andy and Miranda was.

Miranda had changed once they landed back in New York. There were Emily’s and Nigel’s promotions, both of which were surprising, yet the two were very excited and very grateful to the editor. Miranda had also started to open up around Andy. For someone who wasn’t fond of small talk, the editor would make comments about how incompetent people were or how some articles of clothing were hideous. Whenever Miranda wanted coffee she’d “order” Andy to get a coffee for herself. There are instances where Miranda would forego her infamous catch phrase and replace it with a quiet ‘Thank you.’ Each time she heard it Andy would break out into a blinding smile and each time Andy swore that she saw a small twitch of Miranda’s lips before her stoic mask was back in place.

It was the small things that Andy noticed. That’s why it was a big deal to her. For Andy, Miranda respects and trusts her to the point where Miranda could speak freely around her. Andy felt honored to see through the small cracks of Miranda’s walls and she could feel herself falling even harder for the editor.

From the beginning months after Paris till now, Andy swore to herself that she’d help to make Miranda’s life easier. Not just because it was her job, but because she truly cared for the woman.

_______

Just as Andy finished setting down a scalding hot coffee in the office, Miranda came flowing through from the elevator. Lips set in a firm line, her heels clacked against the floor with her brisk pace, never stopping even as she threw her coat on the second assistant’s desk. She had just come back from a showing at James Holts’ studio, surely it wasn’t that bad? Her curiosity was quenched when she got a message from Nigel and she groaned mentally.

Miranda had just gotten off the phone from her ex-husband, Stephen, as she pulled up to the building. Going off Miranda's icy entrance, Andy knew that Stephen had canceled last minute. Again. It was planned that he was to watch the twins for the weekend since Miranda would be out of town for the weekend. Andy knew the man was flaky and usually his cancelling wouldn’t be a problem because the girls had their nanny Cara but the girl was out of town herself. Hence why Stephen was supposed to watch them and now Andy has to deal with the fallout but she was determined to make sure the girls were safe and taken care of for the weekend.

Andy followed the editor as they entered her inner sanctuary, notepad and pen in hand. Miranda had her hand nursing her head, massaging a headache away. “Confirm Demarchelier for tomorrow then pick up Patricia and her medicine from the vet. Pick up everything on the list, Patricia’s on a new diet. Then pick up the girls and take them home. Dinner is in the fridge, bedtime is at nine and don’t give them any sugar past seven no matter what they say.”

The brunette stopped her writing and looked up at the editor. Miranda continued to flip through the magazine in front of her as if nothing had happened.

What?

….What?

“Mira-”

“That’s all.”

_______

After the initial shock, Andy made the necessary arrangements to stay with the girls. Andy quickly got Patrick on the phone for Miranda before she told the second assistant the plans for the rest of the day. The girl was scared to death about being the only assistant in the office but Andy reassured her that she’ll still be available if she had any questions and she left Runway.

Andy and Roy went around town. She picked up the St.Bernard and got groceries for the dog’s new diet. As Roy pulled up to her apartment, Andy’s mind was still reeling. Miranda didn’t outright say it, but she basically asked (okay well maybe told) her to watch the twins. The question was, why? She highly doubted the woman would entrust a different nanny, a practical stranger, to watch her precious girls, but why her? She’s sure the editor wouldn’t even trust Emily to watch the twins. Andy wasn’t complaining though, not at all. She felt honored and touched that she had Miranda’s trust and she’d be damned if she’d let the editor down. After packing a bag, she quickly made her way down to the town car and the two of them, along with Patricia, were off to Dalton.

Upon seeing Andy instead of their father, the twins perked up and practically threw themselves into the car. The three of them had bonded a bit after the Harry Potter incident. Every night that Andy delivered the book, the twins would come down and talk to her about their day. She’d help the girls with their homework assignments and even give the occasional advice whenever they had troubles with friends. They would always ask how their mom was at work and Andy always reassured them that their mother was just fine. They made Andy promise to look after the editor and Andy was more than happy to do so.

Throughout the rest of the evening, they had a little girls' night. They watched movies, painted their nails, and did each other's hair. Andy and the girls even pampered Patricia, painting her little nails on her front paws and putting a bunny ear headband on the dog. It was a bit of a struggle trying to get the ears on the St.Bernard which ended up with Andy chasing the dog around the room while the girls just sat back and watched the whole scene unfold, recording everything. The twins were ecstatic to spend more time with Andy and they weren’t surprised that their mother let her watch them. Alright, maybe a little surprised but they weren’t complaining. At dinner the twins talked Andy’s ear off, spewing suggestion after suggestion about what they should do or where they should go. Although she was happy about their enthusiasm, she finally got them to calm down when they all agreed that they’d talk more about the details in the morning.

_______

Her blaring alarm bounced off the walls of the guest bedroom as Andy groaned herself awake. Once she realized where she was and whose house she was in, she stared up at the ceiling getting lost in her thoughts. The fact that she had slept over in Miranda Priestly’s house and that she’s in here now was still mind boggling. Seeing the townhouse in all its glory was as if she had a small glimpse of Miranda’s world and Andy stood all amazed. She was seeing a different side to the fashion editor. The interior of the townhouse was amazing. The color schemes differed from floor to floor yet it all worked together. Colorful and abstract paintings hung on the wall but there were also things that held family value. There were paper birds that were strung together that were draped around a bookcase on the second floor, pictures of the girls were situated on the coffee table in the sitting room and Miranda being a lover of flowers and their meanings, had multiple bouquets of different flowers on every other table.

Miranda had given Andy, this small town girl who dreamed of being a journalist but actually became an assistant, this ticket to see a of what the editor’s life was like and all Andy could think of was why? She knows what she hoped the reason could be, but Andy didn’t want to get ahead of herself but you bet that she dreams of it being true.

Tired of stressing and guessing, Andy threw on her clothes and made her way downstairs to the kitchen. It was decided last night that they will have crepes and french toast for breakfast and Andy thanked her lucky stars that she lived and dated a cook. She cut up some fresh fruit, freshly squeezed some oranges, and started to make both batters.

Andy was focused on making a good breakfast so she heard the twins come trudging down the stairs before she saw matching messy red hair come around the corner. As she platted the last crepe, the twins sat down at the kitchen island and started to dig in. Even though they just woke up and were currently stuffing their faces, the two were as energetic as they were last night, spewing out even more suggestions than before. Caroline wanted to go to the art museum and Cassidy wanted to go to the zoo. Both options sounded wonderful to Andy and even she couldn’t choose what they should do first.

After a heated game of rock, paper, scissors, and negotiations it was decided that they will go to the art museum and grab some takeout from Shake Shack on their way home. Miranda would never take her children to a place such as Shake Shack but the twins specifically asked for it and Andy just couldn’t say no. It’s okay, Miranda didn’t have to know.

_______

The art museum was fantastic. Although Andy has been to the museum multiple times with her friend Lily, she was amazed to hear Caroline’s knowledge of the art work and the artists who created them. Caroline became a little tour guide of the group, making comments and giving out fun facts here and there. She knew both of the girls were smart. They were definitely knowledgeable in areas that differ from usual kids their age, but it always amazed her to see how vast their knowledge really is.

The trio made their way home, cutting through the park before stopping at Shake Shack. She hoped no one would recognize the twins or else Miranda would hear about it within the hour and she knew the girls wouldn’t rat her or themselves out. They looked over the menu for a while, debating on what they should get. Cassidy and Caroline got the shack burger while Andy settled for the chicken bites. The twins couldn’t decide on what fries they should get so Andy just got an order of regular fries and an order of cheesy bacon fries. God, if Emily was here she’d have a heart attack just hearing about the cheesy bacon fries. They were almost out the door until Caroline stopped them and said that you can’t eat Shake Shack without getting a shake.

With the twins sipping on their shakes, the trio finally made their way back to the townhouse. They all settled around the kitchen island and dug into their respective foods; the twins even picked some chicken bites from Andy’s plate and Andy always tried to swat their hands away. Caroline continued talking about the paintings and sculptures they’ve seen with Andy listening intently and nodding along. The subject changed when they started to talk about tomorrow, and Caroline went on her own knowledge spree about the different habitats and animals that were at the zoo.

Seriously, these kids amazed Andy.

_______

And that’s how Miranda found them.

The twins and Andrea were talking around the kitchen island with their greasy takeout and sugary milkshakes topped with extra whip cream and she watched with amusement as Andrea tried to keep her food away from the girls. Miranda stood in the doorway taking in the scene. She’s never seen the girls take to someone so easily before, aside from Cara. The three never knew this but Miranda knew about the late night talks they had. She would listen to the hushed conversations and smile to herself from the second floor hallway. Every time she heard her girls’ voices with Andrea’s voice, her heart fluttered.

Andrea wasn’t like anyone she knew. She managed to weasel her way into the editor’s heart and Miranda wouldn’t have it any other way. The girl was kind and sweet, yet hard working and determined. Andrea was a force to be reckoned with when she was given a task and she would always get things done in one way or another. To Miranda, Andrea was ethereal; the brunette would walk in a room and the atmosphere would feel lighter. Hell, her presence alone had the power to calm the fiery editor. Andrea was the warmth that slowly melted her icy walls. Miranda cared for the girl, more than a boss should.

Before Miranda could make her presence, she caught Cassidy’s eyes. “Mom! You’re back!” Caroline looked up towards the doorway before letting out a squeal. Both girls bolted towards the editor as Miranda opened her arms. The force of the impact from the girls caused Miranda to stumble backwards a bit with a little ‘oomph’ as she was attacked by the redheads. Kissing their heads, Miranda hugged the girls tightly, “We finished early and Donna was nice enough to give mommy a ride home.”

As the family had their little reunion, Andy looked away from the scene in front of her and tidied up a bit. When Miranda’s presence was known, it came rushing back to her that she was Miranda’s assistant. That was her boss. This was just another task Miranda had given her as an assistant. No matter how different the task was or how different things had changed between them, she will still be seen as an assistant. Right?

“Andrea.”

Andy snapped her head up. She was so concentrated on her thoughts that she failed to notice the absence of the girls. It left her and Miranda alone. Alone. Together. In Miranda’s kitchen. Oh God.

Miranda walked closer towards the brunette, eyeing the takeout on the table, “I see you’ve been spoiling my children with... greasy calories and sugar.” Andy chuckled nervously as she fidgeted with her fingers.

“The girls asked for it specifically and they used their puppy eyes. It was a tough showdown and I just couldn’t say no.”

Miranda hummed in acknowledgement before letting a small smile play on her lips. She knew all too well about those puppy eyes. She fell victim to them many times. “Understandable.” Miranda picked up one of the french fries from the paper bag and plopped it into her mouth, leaving Andy to stand in front of her with wide eyes. The editor looked up at the assistant with a raised brow and a small smirk, “Surely you know that even I indulge myself from time to time?”

Andy tried her best not to gape at the scene as the editor started to pick at the bacon cheese fries, “Of course Miranda. It’s just...I’ve never imagined Miranda Priestly eating bacon cheese fries with her fingers. I mean, maybe with a fork but still.” Andy was even more shocked when the editor let out a laugh. Not one of those fake, dainty laughs, but a real laugh. It was beautiful. It was all Miranda. “Be as it may Andrea, I’m not the one with cheese on her face.”

The brunette blanched in horror and faced away from the editor to try and wipe the leftover cheese off her face. How long has it been there? Why didn’t the girls say anything to her before? Did Miranda know the whole time? Why couldn’t she have said anything before?

Her thoughts were stopped as she felt a hand lift her chin up and wide brown eyes met soft and amused blue eyes. Miranda stood in front of her with a napkin and a small smile, “Silly girl.” As Miranda wiped away the cheese, Andy held her breath. She could feel her skin tingle under the editor’s hand. All of her senses were heightened and her sense of smell was filled with Chanel No.19. The two were closer than they ever were before and Andy was scared to move. Scared that if she did, whatever this moment was would end.

“Why?”

Andy’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. Miranda’s eyes flitted across the young woman’s face before searching her chocolate brown eyes. “You didn’t have to watch them. You could have declined. Yet you didn’t.” Andy held her breath. “Why?”

The brunette searched the editor’s own eyes and watched as the softened ever so slightly, a twinkle of vulnerability showing through and Andy knew that it was now or never.

“I just want to be there for you.”

A moment of pause followed, the two of them communicating through their eyes. Andy just wanted to show Miranda that she cared. She cared more than an assistant should. She cared about the woman’s life outside of work and that included the girls. It included everything and anything that crossed Miranda’s path.

Satisfied and a bit relieved with what she found, Miranda slowly moved her hand to caress Andy’s cheek, lightly rubbing her thumb along a soft skin.

“Thank you.”

______

A/N: I didn’t want to end it with dialogue but I felt like if I continued it, it would be too long for a prompt fic. Anyways, I tried lol BUT feedback is always welcome whether it’s negative or positive, both help with the writing process :)

[broadstbroskis]

four times matthew tkachuk tried to use a pickup line plus one time it worked

big shoutout to the anon who went around dropping pickup lines one night for some inspiration for this. you da real mvp. also i’ve now written three fics for this mofo and they’ve all been plus ones. not sure what this says about me but but i’m certain it’s something.

-----

1. Sorry, but you owe me a drink. [Why?] Because when I looked at you, I dropped mine.

It’s a Saturday night in September and you’re out with your friends celebrating the fact that every single one of you have finally landed jobs after graduation. The weather’s starting to cool down, but it’s not so cold that you can’t enjoy one of your favorite rooftop bars still. 

Around you, your friends share your excitement. The whole squad (well, the whole squad that had remained in Calgary, you’re still bitter about Lauren leaving you all for Vancouver even if the opportunity had been amazing) is partying like you’re back in school but with the paychecks you’ve all got now and you’re certain you’re going to be feeling it in the morning.

Laughing on the dance floor with Kath, Will, and Claire, you push your way through the crowd once the song ends to refill your drink. You can’t help but shimmy your shoulders a little at the song that follows it, while you wait for the bartender to fill your whiskey sour.

There’s a tap on your shoulder and you turn, to find a guy with curly hair and dimples smiling at you. His face looks so familiar, but you can’t quite place it.

“Sorry.” He tells you. “But I think you owe me a drink.”

“Oh yeah,” You ask casually, sure you know where this is headed, especially since you’ve managed to place his face. Matthew Tkachuk, star forward for the Calgary Flames and perpetual pest. “Why’s that?”

Somehow, his grin widens even more. “Because when I looked at you, I dropped mine.”

The bartender hands you your whiskey sour and you think about it for barely a minute. “Well let me help you with that!” You dump your drink on him, taking only a moment to relish his shock, before walking away to find your friends.

There’s a huge spot of laughter behind you and it’s only when you reach Kath again that you turn around to realize that it’s Matthew’s friends that laughed. Tucked under the arm of one of the guys still snickering at him is a pretty blonde girl, eyeing you with interest, until she catches you looking back, and gives you a smile and a thumbs up.

2. Do you like raisins? How do you feel about a date?

“Oh my God!” The voice, quite frankly, kind of scares you. It’s too close, much higher than you were expecting, and doesn’t sound anything like Kath’s, who’s due to meet you and Claire any minute but certainly wouldn’t greet you like that.

“Can I help you?” Claire asks, pretty rudely, but you’re not inclined to scold her for it at the moment, when this tiny blonde is standing super close and staring at you with huge eyes.

“You’re my hero!” She exclaims and then covers her mouth. “Sorry! You don’t know me.”

“No, I don’t.” You agree.

“We were all here a couple weeks ago and you threw a drink on my boyfriend’s friend.” She grins. “I’m Sam, and you are my personal hero as well as all of our friends.”

After you and Claire introduce yourselves, you ask, “If he’s that much of an asshole, why are you guys friends with him?”

“He’s more of a pest than an asshole.” Sam says immediately, which does mildly reassure you that Matthew Tkachuk isn’t a total dick. “He’s actually a really nice guy, just cocky as shit.”

“Yeah, I got that much.” You say dryly. “Couldn’t you tell?” You continue, which sends all three of you into giggles, until Kath finally arrives. 

Sam orders a drink with the three of you, hanging around the bar to chat for a while. “I’m stealing all of you.” She declares, after a while, that the four of you have mostly spent laughing. “We have a table in the back, come on.”

“I don’t really know.” You hesitate.

“Honestly, don’t even worry about that. Matty’s totally over that. Honestly, he’ll be more annoyed about the boys chirping him than you turning him down.”

And how’s that saying go? Speak of the devil and he shall appear? Right over Sam’s shoulder pops his head; she’s just missing the angel and she’d be every cartoon you’d ever seen. “Here you are.” Matthew says. “Mony’s looking for you.”

“Perfect!” She grins. “We were just coming back over”

He looks over at her use of we and grins as soon as his eyes meet yours. Just like Sam, he hasn’t forgotten you either. “Hello!”

“Hi.” You return politely.

“We’re going to head over; you coming?” Sam asks Matthew. He points to the bar. “‘Kay, see you there.”

“Hey wait,” All four of you stop, looking over at him, but he’s only got eyes for you. “Do you like raisins?”

You know this is a line, but you can’t for the life of you imagine where the fuck he’s going with it. “No?”

He grins, cheekily, that same one from last time you’d met. “How about a date, then?”

You grin back. “I’m allergic.” You pat his cheek mockingly and then move past him to follow Sam back toward that table in the corner to meet the rest of her friends.

3. Do you know what my shirt is made of? Boyfriend material? 

Matthew’s brother is in town for a game, which means his whole family is in town for a game, which apparently means there’s an after party in his apartment with members from both teams and whoever else they want to invite.

You’re not quite sure how or why you managed to be invited, were honestly planning on turning down the invitation, but Sam insisted you show up, so here you were, rolling up to Matthew’s condo, with her, Sean, and Noah, shortly after the Saturday afternoon matinee.

The party already feels like it’s in full swing when you arrive and yet, people continue to arrive after you. You get caught up chatting in the kitchen for a few minutes with a lovely blonde woman, who you only later learn is Matthew’s mother, and then spend the next five minutes denying that fact completely as Sean and Sam laugh hysterically. “But she’s so nice.”

“You should see her roast Chucky; she gives it pretty good.” Sean’s still laughing.

“Which is pretty much Matt.” Sam adds pointedly. “Come on, YN. When he’s not being a total pest, he’s a pretty great guy.”

You took a sip of your drink instead of answering her. You certainly started to see the great guy side of Matt as you and your friends had started to spend more time with Sam-who frequently came with varying numbers of a hockey team, about as often as she came with just herself-and it was definitely getting easier to see that he actually could be a nice guy. One who was always there for his friends, who adored his family, who’d drop anything the second one of his people needed help.

But a lot of the time, you still just saw a cocky mofo who was used to getting what he wanted. You couldn’t think of a time you saw him that he didn’t at least send a wink at you. He still frequently tried to make some kind of cheesy pass at you, with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, like it was all some kind of game. 

Sam takes your silence for the reluctant admission that it is and pulls you over to play some wild drinking and card game that you never quite get the hang of and abandon quickly (you hate losing too much to play for long). But that much losing means your drink is empty already and so you head for the kitchen again for a refill.

Just your luck, the only people in the kitchen are Matthew and Brady. You would have been able to pick his brother out of a line up instantly, even if Noah hadn’t pointed him out to you when you guys first walked in. Matthew grins immediately, the same as always, and you just roll your eyes, preparing for what’s to come. “Knew this day would come.”

“And what day is that?” You return. “The one that I’m here, in your apartment?”

“And you know, you don’t have to leave now!” He holds his arm out to you as you look on unimpressed. “‘Cause you know what this shirt’s made of? Boyfriend material.”

He’s grinning that dimpled grin at you and for once, you actually refrain from rolling your eyes at him. “Shame your whole family’s in town right now or I could take it off to confirm that.” You trail a finger down his chest, stopping just before it reaches the button on his pants and grinning widely as he chokes on air, before turning to grab your drink and leave the room immediately afterwards

The sound of Brady’s laughter almost catches you for a second, since you’d actually completely forgotten he was there

4. Hey, you’re pretty and I’m cute. Together we’d be Pretty Cute.

You just needed one more afternoon pick-me-up. One more coffee would do it, right? And then this stupid project would be done? Before deadline? 

You put the order in. Your favorite barista at your favorite coffee shop promises she’ll bring it over when she’s finished with it and you settle back into your table to get back to work.

An arm drops onto your shoulders. “How’s my favorite girl doing?”

You tense immediately. At the voice, at the arm, at the words. “I doubt.” You say, hearing the coldness in your voice that is only reserved for the man who’d dropped himself into the seat across from you uninvited shortly after removing his arm from your shoulders. But at least his arm was gone. “That I could ever be considered your favorite girl, considering how many girls you cheated on me with when we were together.”

“Come on, babe, don’t be like that.” Kyle says.

You stare at him in disbelief, unable to even respond. “Don’t call me babe.”

“Who, me?” You’ve never been so grateful to see Matthew before, let alone to have him slide into the seat next to you so closely. 

You smile at him, actually moving your chair closer to him-literally anything to get you further away from Kyle-and are impressed when he doesn’t even flinch. Just throws his arm around the back of your chair and returns the grin  “Well, you too.” You tease.

 Matthew grins. “Nah, babe, you know I like riling you up too much.” You can only roll your eyes at that.

“Well this has been fun, babe.” Kyle says, finally standing up, reaching out to pat your hand resting on the table.

“She told you not to call her that.” Matthew intercepts his hand, pulling yours toward him. His voice is flatter than you’ve ever heard it.

“Be fun to do this again sometime.” Kyle continues like he hasn’t heard a word Matthew said, but you can tell from the look in his eyes that what he’s going to say next is going to hurt. “You know, if your boyfriend can share you better than you could share me.”

Your jaw drops and you can feel tears spring to the corners of your eyes as he finally, finally walks away. Next to you, you feel Matthew tense, like he wants to get up and follow him, and you reach for one of his arms. “Don’t.” He pauses. “He’s not worth it.”

“He’s a real dick.” He grumbles.

“Yeah.” You say quietly. There’s nothing really to add to that that you or your friends haven’t already said and so a long moment of silence follows that admission.

“Hey.” Matthew nudges you.

“What?” You ask grumpily, reluctantly meeting his eyes.

“You’re pretty and I’m cute.” You give him a look, like get on with it. “So together we’d be Pretty Cute.” 

For once, his cheesy pick up line brings a smile to your face, turning your mood around instantly. And the second you start to smile, Matthew does as well. “There we go, there’s that smile.”

+1. Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?

Perched on the counter of Johnny’s breakfast bar, legs dangling off, you cheer loudly as Elias sinks another cup. He throws his hands up victoriously, looking over at the paper bracket that you and Sam had spent hours working on, only for someone to splash beer all over it when they’d thrown their hands up in outrage over a ruling.

It was the Flames’ annual Beer Olympics and you were still managing to enjoy yourself, even though your elimination had come early after Noah had thrown the game because he’d spotted the girl he’s been talking to recently rolling in the door. He hadn’t even been phased when you threw your half full cup of beer at him, or when it nailed him in the back, and he still doesn’t look upset about his wet back, smile seemingly permanently fixed on his face as he continues to chat with said girl.

For your part, after elimination, you’ve become both a personal cheerleader and trash-talker. You’re an equal opportunist, you know? Someone makes a bad shot, you’re going to call them out on it.

Newly eliminated, you’re not entirely surprised when you feel a new presence by your side. It wasn’t like things had abruptly changed after the run-in with your ex at the coffee shop, but the energy was definitely different. 

Gone was the cocky grin, replaced with a softer, dimpled smile that you’d always return. The pickup lines were cheesy jokes, a thing between the two of you, said with a little bit of questioning and a tiny bit of hope as each time he waited for you to laugh.

And each time you did, enjoying the smile it brought to his face. More and more you saw the genuinely great guy he was- in fact, it was the dominating trait over how much of a pest he was, how cocky he was, how annoying he could be.

Of course, it’s possible you spoke entirely too soon on this as his first move upon coming to stand next to you is to poke you in the sides repeatedly. “Why’d you have to do me dirty like that?” He whines.

“Elbows!” You repeat simply, calling him out for the same thing you’d shouted at him earlier. 

Matthew comes around in front of you, resting his cold drink on your leg in what you can only assume is payback. “You’re wrong.” He tells you. 

“Maybe,” You say with a grin. “You’re wrong.”

“Oh I’m never wrong.” Matthew assures you, and then a familiar grin appears on his face. “In fact,you can kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?”

He’s waiting for your laugh, you can see it in his face. But you don’t want to, is the thing. 

So you reach forward, grabbing his face and pulling it toward yours. There’s just enough time to register the shock on it before your lips meet, but Matthew pulls his shit together enough to return a breathtaking kiss, so when you do finally pull away, you’re practically gasping for breath. 

“Um. You’re wrong.” You manage, finally.

“Don’t even.” Matthew grins, stepping forward into your thighs, and kissing you once again.

[heyhey-heyward]

expectations & disappointments

series masterlist

summary: Morgan Miller has lived her life under her mother’s thumb—but one afternoon with Kildare County’s most notorious Pogues changes everything.

word count: 1.4K

note from the writer: this is the first part of my series! I’ll be doing a taglist for people that would want to be included so send me an ask if you want to be included! this takes place along the canon events of the show, so major spoilers. also, be prepared for a  s l o w  b u r n  bc I can’t help myself.

enjoy!

Morgan Miller did not belong on The Cut.

She was from Figure Eight, the rich side of the island and where the Kooks resided. She had nice clothes and nice things and a nice education—her whole life was nice and practically laid out in front of her. She’d go to an amazing college on the mainland, and meet an amazing guy that would make an amazing husband. Then, depending on where her amazing husband would want to live, she’d either go back to the Outer Banks and buy one of the gorgeous plantations on Figure Eight or she’d move to some other equally gorgeous coastal town. She’d have two kids and a dog and be in bed by ten every night.

And she fucking hated it.

Nothing seemed worse to her than having to follow her mother’s carefully laid out plan. Having to spend each day on the lookout for an amazing husband—one that, if she was really lucky, might actually like her—and devote her life to. Apparently, having a husband was the number one priority for a girl, according to the widowed Mrs. Madeline Miller, who was currently working on securing husband number two.

Enter, The Cut.

A poverty ridden side of the island that got dealt the worst hand and told to make due. Home of the Pogues, the name given to the people that inhabited The Cut. Kooks acted like they ran the show, even though life itself on the Outer Banks would cease to exist if the Pogues all decided to up and quit working one day. Underappreciated and overlooked, Morgan had a soft spot for the hardships of that side of the island.

As a result, she took it upon herself to donate to The Cut as much as she could. Majority of the time, she avoided telling her mom her whereabouts. But it was a small island, and her mother had eyes everywhere. For the most part, she could smooth over any transgression with her mother by agreeing to go on any of the dates with certified Figure Eight boys she had arranged with the other overbearing mothers. Unsurprisingly, none had ever worked out.

With the arrival of Hurricane Agatha, Morgan had been working double time, helping families around The Cut prepare for a storm while donating a month’s allowance worth of drinking water and other groceries. Currently, she was dropping off supplies at a house on the main street of The Cut, climbing around the back of her dad’s old pickup to find the right cooler.

“Hey, Mo!” A familiar voice called out, using the nickname that everyone but Mrs. Madeline Miller called Morgan, and she looked up to greet the source with a smile. Kiara Carrera, a fellow Kook that defected to the dark side—at least according to Morgan’s mother and other Figure Eight higher ups. Really, she was just one step ahead of Morgan, having befriended a group of Pogues. Morgan, despite spending a great amount of time hanging around The Cut, mostly kept to herself. She knew the families, went to some of the Boneyard parties, but kept most people at arms length—it had been that way since her father passed when she was ten.

“Hey, Kie.” She greeted her with a wave, watching her and her group—John B, Pope, and JJ—approach on the sidewalk. Morgan found the cooler she had been looking for, the one that had the groceries needed for the family she was parked in front of. “Hey, help me with this?” She asked, setting the cooler on the tailgate while getting a case of water. John B didn’t waste a moment, grabbing one side of the cooler before helping her set it on the sidewalk. “Thanks.”

“So, where does your mom think you are today?” Kiara asked with a teasing tone as Morgan hopped off the back of her truck. She chuckled at her, shutting the tailgate and turning back to find the boys looking at her and Kiara with confused expressions. Probably because they had never seen Morgan and Kiara interact, having fallen out of touch for the most part since leaving Kook Academy. The whole Sarah Cameron drama wasn’t Morgan’s cup of tea, and when shit hit the fan with them, Morgan, instead of taking sides, seemingly dropped off of the face of the Earth.

“I’m on a beach somewhere, perfecting my tan and rehearsing what I’m going to say to my future husband when he asks me to marry him.” Morgan joked, sighing dreamily for added effect before rolling her eyes. Mrs. Madeline Miller was nothing if not determined to get Morgan to settle down. And Morgan was nothing if not determined to rebel against that.

“Yeah, why aren’t you back on Figure Eight? Kooks too boring for you?” Though most of the boys had chuckled at her comment, the blonde standing between John B and Pope spoke up with a smug grin on his face. The other two froze, though Morgan barely noticed as her attention fell to the sidewalk.

“JJ!” Kiara chastised. Morgan shook her head at her, waving a hand dismissively. It stung a little bit, that even after spending so much time helping the people on The Cut, that some still saw her as her mother’s daughter. It wasn’t Morgan, and never would be.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Morgan assured her, flashing a weak smile as she picked up the cooler and made her way to the house. She heard the group bickering on the sidewalk behind her, mostly just Kiara and JJ back and forth, and she sighed before turning over her shoulder one last time. “Hey, Kie, tell your dad hey for me!”

And then she continued into the house, and when she came out, they were gone.

Morgan didn’t think much about it, and continued on with her deliveries, only heading home when the sun started to set and storm clouds started rolling overhead. The lights were off in the house, but as soon as she slipped quietly into the too large kitchen that Mrs. Madeline Miller never used, the lightswitch was flipped and she was met with her disappointed mother.

“Hi, mom.” Morgan winced, knowing her mother would be upset at her for being out so late and from the way she was gripping the stem of her wine glass, Morgan could tell she knew where she was.

“I’m not having this argument with you again.” Her mother sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. From the way she was acting, one would think that she had caught Morgan doing drugs or smuggling beers out of the fridge instead of helping the less fortunate.

“I really don’t—” Morgan started even though she wasn’t sure how she was going to finish the sentence, but cut herself off when her mom raised a hand that silenced her immediately. Sighing again, her mother leaned against the kitchen island.

“Melanie told me you were in The Cut today.” Her tone sounded accusatory and Morgan was still trying to figure out what exactly was so wrong with helping out on the island. She just shrugged her shoulders in response, moving to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. “I want you to go on a date with Kai Johnson. I’ve been talking to his mom and he’s a good kid—”

“I went on a date last week with Kelce! You have another one planned already?” Morgan exclaimed, though she knew it was a useless fight and started to head towards the door where she’d retreat into her bedroom. It was always the same thing with her mother. Morgan would do something to disappoint her and then she’d have to go on one of the dates her mother would set up for her in order to try and live up to the expectations of being a perfect Kook daughter.

“Are you going to go on a second date with him?” Mrs. Madeline Miller stepped to the side to block her escape route and Morgan sighed. She knew the answer and she didn’t even have to reply, it was the same one she gave her after every failed date—that they weren’t what she was looking for and she didn’t plan on seeing them again. “No? Then I’ll be telling Kai’s mother that we’re setting it up.”

And, like always when her mother confronted her, Morgan stayed quiet.

[princessjungeun]

Under The Stars: Soyeon x Reader

Request: Hi!! So glad you’re taking requests again!! Can you do a soyeon scenario where her gf surprises her and they go on a road trip for her break? Thank you have a good day 😘

After Oh My God promotions ended, and other events (G)I-DLE had died down, the group was finally able to get a break. Minnie decided to go home to Thailand. Yuqi went back home to visit her parents in China. Shuhua went to home to Taiwan, excited because Tzuyu was also heading home on the same flight. The Korean members also joined their families in their respective homes. However, Soyeon had other plans.

As many know Soyeon is a musical genius who never stops working. She’s always writing, singing, producing, or thinking of some way to utilize her skills differently. During this three week break she decided she wanted to try something she’s never done before. A writing camp. Specifically a writing camp in California, where you’re from.

The writing camp was 10 days long and it was in Los Angeles. Soyeon was hesitant at first although she had always wanted to do this. She worried about the language barrier, although music is a universal language, she wasn’t sure about how her lack of English skills would affect her experience. However, with your help she was able to arrange for there to be another Korean speaker who could translate as needed. You’d also be there for when she returned from the writing camp, as you two were staying in California for 14 days.

The plane ride to California was long and Soyeon slept the entire way. You on the other hand didn’t sleep a wink. Soyeon was going to be away from you for 10 of the 14 days you’d be home. As much as you wanted to keep her in the safety of your home, you knew she needed to stay with the other artists and producers overnight.

When you arrived home with Soyeon it was 1:12 am and she had to be at the writing camp at 4:00 pm that day. Although she slept the whole entire way to California, she crashed the second her head hit your pillow when you all arrived to your house.

You laid awake for an hour staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. Soyeon stirred in your arms before readjusting herself so one of her legs was looped in yours, her head on your chest, and an arm around your torso. Kissing the top of her head lightly you mumbled a quiet “i love you” before allowing sleep to wash over you.

Soyeon woke up around 1 pm and had slept off most of her jet lag. She let you sleep in and woke you up at 2:45 when she got bored of having nobody to talk to. Your parents were away on vacation in the Bahamas so the house was dead silent without you awake.

“Baby you don’t have to be nervous ok? I’ll be fine, I have a translator to help me, and you’re only a phone call away.” Soyeon did her best to reassure you that she’ll be fine without you there by her side for two weeks. You sighed and said “ok, ok fine...i just don’t want to be away from you that’s all.” She pulled you close and kissed you before curling back into your embrace. She wanted to spend a little more time with you before you had to drop her off.

The drive to the location of the writing camp was not that long but with the Los Angeles traffic it felt like an eternity. Eventually you all reached a giant mansion in the hills “ok this is it babe”. You tried your best to sound happy but Soyeon knew you were sad to be apart from her for these next 10 days. She hopped out the car and you followed along, pulling her two large suitcases out of the trunk.

Soyeon texted the person who was there to help as a translator and moments later a young Korean girl walked outside to meet you two. “Hi i’m Yena, I’m gonna be Soyeon’s translator and guide for these next 10 days!” She seemed really nice but also super super young, she definitely wasn’t over 16. You asked “how old are you?” She responded “15, my uncle runs the camp and asked if I’d be able to translate for her...is that ok?” You responded “yeah of course I was just curious.”

Soyeon introduced herself to Yena as well before turning to you to say goodbye. You pulled her close before kissing her, your hand cupping the side of her face. You told her Baby, if you need anything call me ok? I don’t care what time it is I’ll pick up, I promise. And don’t forget to eat and sleep, and drink water!” Soyeon laughed and said “ok mom i got it.” You pouted and she told you “you have nothing to worry about I’ll be ok...I have Yena.” She referenced the young girl who was turned away from you to give you privacy. She kissed you once more before following Yena inside the large house, her smile didn’t fade as she waved goodbye. You felt your heart warm as you saw how excited she was about this

You watched as she walked inside, waiting until the door closed behind her. Once you drove off you smiled to yourself knowing your girlfriend was going to have the best 10 days of her life.

•

•

•

The 10 days went by faster than you expected them to. Soyeon video called you almost every night excited to tell you about everything she did that day. She made friends with a few artists and producers and a lot of them were highly impressed with what she wrote and produced. But she was now ready to come home, back into the safety of your arms.

The car ride to the hills definitely felt longer this time, you just wanted to see your girlfriend again. But eventually after 45 minutes of traffic, you arrived to the gigantic mansion. When you texted Soyeon that you were outside, the front door flew open. She locked eyes with you before sprinting to you, flinging herself into your embrace.

You laughed and asked “you missed me that much huh?” She nuzzled her head into your neck and inhaled your sweet perfume. When she let go you piled her bags into your trunk before you both thanked Yena for everything she did for Soyeon.

The drive home wasn’t that long but it was extremely quiet. Soyeon fell asleep within the first ten minutes of being in the car. When you got home you left her bags in the car and carried her inside and into your bed.

•

•

•

The next day you woke up with Soyeon in your arms. Your eyes fluttered open as she gazed at you, eyes full of love. The two of you were in and out of sleep for a while before you decided to finally get up and do something.

“What are you doing? Soyeon finally came out from your bedroom, sleepily rubbing her eyes. You had already been up for two hours but she decided to stay in bed.

You’d been packing a beach bag for the two of you along with ordering groceries snacks to be delivered to your house. As you piled everything into the large bag Soyeon tried to peek in, curious as to what you had up your sleeve. You swatted her away and said “go get dressed, wear your bathing suit. I’m taking you to one of my favorite places.” She retreated back to your room to change while you finished packing the bag.

Soyeon continued to question you the whole entire time you drove, all 2 hours. “Baby pleeeasssseee tell me where you’re taking me!” She whined from the passengers seat. You laughed without taking your eyes off the road, “Read the exit signs then.” Soyeon punched your shoulder “you know I can’t understand them, ugh you’re so mean to me.”

Thankfully the traffic wasn’t super bad this time so you all made good time. Arriving at a small beach, you poked her and said “ok we’re here.” She quickly hopped out the car and looked around as if she’d recognize where she was. You told her “we’re in San Diego...my grandad used to take me here. Every weekend he’d bring me down here.”

Soyeon knew how close you and your grandfather were so she was truly grateful that you opened this part of your heart up to her. She helped you pull the large beach bag out from the back of your pickup truck.

The two of you spent the day running around on the beach, swimming, collecting shells, making a sand castle that Soyeon fell on, eating snacks, and laying in the sun.

You made your way back to your truck, pulling blankets and pillows from the back seat and piling them into the back. Once you filled the back you patted for Soyeon to climb in with you.

The two of you watched as the sun dipped below the horizon, turning the sky beautiful hues of orange and pink. You looked at her in awe, the golden light making her skin glow in just the right way. Without looking away you told her “You look so beautiful...like a goddess.” She smiled bashfully and covered her face with her hands “yahhh stop that, i’m embarrassed!” Pulling her hands away from her face you looked into her eyes before kissing her soft lips.

The two of you watched the sky, staring up at the stars that soon appeared. Soyeon broke the silence that fell over the two of you, “you’re lucky you got to see the stars like this. Back home our sky...it’s not like this.” You asked “what do you mean?” She replied “light pollution makes it hard to see beautiful things at night.” You hummed in response and she continued “but luckily it doesn’t keep me from seeing you, the most beautiful girl in the world.”

Your heart sped up with her words and you laughed, hitting her shoulder “how do you do this to me everytime?” She settled in your arms, her body warming yours as the salty air blew a cold wind. The two of you stayed like this, under the stars until it was time to drive back home. You were grateful that you were finally able to show the love of your life one of your favorite places in the world.

[marvelstarwarsetc]

All We Know- Daryl Dixon

PART EIGHT

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Cussing, Violence, Gore (The fact that its the walking dead should be warning enough lol)

Summary: Finding her way back to her sisters was all that mattered to her. When the world ended she had lost everything, so finding them became all that mattered. Or at least, it was, until she stumbled across a redneck hunting in the woods.

*Starts in Season 1 and will be a multi part fic*

Part One  Part two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Seven  Part Seven (Daryl’s POV)

When Y/n woke it was in the passenger seat of Daryl’s old pickup truck, with Daryl sitting in the driver’s seat beside her. She tried her best not to, but couldn’t help the groan of pain that escaped her lips when she tried to lift her head off the seat.

“Woah, Ya alright?” Daryl’s voice filled the truck, and for some reason Y/n found herself fighting back a smile at the concern laced into his tone. She hummed in confirmation before turning her head to look out the window, watching the trees that whizzed by.

“Where are we going?” She asked curious, though she had to admit she wasn’t mad they were leaving the quarry camp. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle staying there after all that’s happened.

“Jim got bit, was bringin’ ‘im ta the CDC. He didn’ make it.”

Y/n didn’t know Jim very well, at all really. But she couldn’t help the pang of sadness she felt when she thought about all the people the group just lost. “How long til’ we get there?” 

“Bout an hour looks like, already been drivin’ a while ‘fore ya woke up. How’s ya face?”

At the question it was like Y/n finally remembered what happened with Andrea, her throbbing face finally making itself known to the woman. She didn’t blame Andrea for hitting her, not at all. Which is why she took each hit her sister threw at her without complaint, because she knew Andrea needed to get her frustrations out and Y/n knew how to take a punch. But the longer she thought about it, the longer she thought about how long Andrea just left Amy there, waiting for their sister to wake back up. Andrea was fully intending on letting Amy wake up as a monster just so she could try to clear her conscience. It was selfish, and Y/n didn’t know if she’d be able to forgive her older sister for it.

Y/n held plenty of guilt when it came to Amy too. All the unanswered text messages, the voicemails that were never listened to. The years that Y/n neglected both of her sisters and kept them away from their niece and nephew. But no matter what, Y/n would never have let Amy wake up like that just so that she could apologize. Not ever. And it hurt her to think that Andrea could. 

“I’m sure it looks worse than it is,” Y/n tried to dismiss, but the words were harder for her to get out than she’d like to admit. Just moving her face to speak was a chore, and she started to regret letting Andrea hit her as many times as she did.

It was obvious that Daryl had more questions, she knew she would have. But the hunter didn’t say anything else as the two drove down the road in silence. 

She could see the Grimes’ truck at the front of the line, with Dale’s RV behind them, and Shane’s jeep at the rear, right behind Daryl’s truck. She briefly wondered where the Morales’ were as there was no way the family of four wouldn’t have taken their own car, but the thought was forgotten as they all pulled up in front of the CDC.

The front of the CDC looked like a war zone, corpses everywhere, both military and civilians. Sand bag barricades had been constructed to reinforce security at the entrance, probably when shit had really started to hit the fan. The smell was something awful, Y/n noticed as everyone started to get out of their vehicles. There were no walkers in the area at that moment, but she took her tactical knife out just in case, as Daryl had with his crossbow. 

The smell seemed to get stronger and stronger as the group moved closer to the CDC, and Y/n was on high alert when various group members started coughing. She knew the sound would no doubt draw walkers to their location.

“All right, everybody. Keep moving. Go on. Stay quiet. Let’s go,” Shane whispered as he moved to bring up the rear of the group with Daryl and Y/n. For a moment Daryl wondered if Y/n should be ready to take on walkers so soon after getting the shit beat out of her, but that seemed to be the last thing on the woman’s mind as she stayed alert.

When the group finally made it to the doors of the CDC the stench coming from the sea of dead bodies was almost suffocating, and various people started retching from the smell. Suddenly Daryl handed a bandanna over to Y/n while he tied one over his nose and mouth, and she wondered for a second where the hell he got these from before she took the bandanna from the man and secured it over her own bruised face.

Rick tried to roll down the security door, but to everyone’s horror the door didn’t budge. “Nothing?” Shane asked as he pushed against the door himself, pounding on it for good measure.

It was getting dark quickly, and growing harder and harder to ignore that they were sitting ducks out here in the open like this.

 “There’s nobody here.” T-dog said, the annoyance and worry showing in his tone. Everyone looked to Rick then, as he seemed to be looking over the door frantically for an answer. ”Then why are these shutters down?”

The groans of walkers started to fill the streets, causing panic to fill everyone in the group. Lori and Carol both clutched their children tightly to their chests as Daryl called out to warn everyone when the first walker could be seen making it’s way towards the group.

“You led us into a graveyard!” Daryl accused Rick, sending an arrow flying towards a walker when he noticed Y/n move to take it out with her knife.

“He made a call,” Dale defended in that voice that bordered on condescending, causing Daryl to snap back at him. “It was the wrong damn call!”

Shane turned towards Daryl defensively, “Just shut up. You hear me? Shut up. Shut up!” Before he turned his attention back to his best friend, his tone softening. “Rick this is a dead end.”

“Where we gonna go?” Carol asked, fear clear in her voice as she looked down at her daughter.

“She’s right,” Lori started, “We can’t be here, this close to the city after dark.”

And Lori was right. The city was the worst place to be right now, and by the looks of the street it wasn’t any better here either.

“Fort Benning, Rick—still an option.”

The rest of the group started arguing about where to go. About how fort benning was too far for the amount of supplies they had. The children started crying as more and more walkers came into view, and Daryl started shooting as many as he could to try and keep Y/n from having to use her knife. Y/n thought about shooting some with the shotgun Rick had given her, but her eye sight wasn’t the best after the beating she had gotten and the sound would only draw more walkers to them.

“All right, everybody back to the cars. Let’s go. Move.” Shane ordered, before Rick seemed to have notice something the others didn’t.

 “The camera—it moved.”

“You imagined it,” Dale dismissed.

“It moved.”

“Rick, it is dead, man. It’s an automated device. It’s gears, okay? They’re just winding down. Now come on.” Everyone started to move back towards the cars, Y/n and Daryl still watching for walkers that got too close, but Rick just stood by the door. Not moving a muscle.

“Man, just listen to me. Look around this place. It’s dead, okay? It’s dead. You need to let it go, Rick. Rick, there’s nobody there.” Shane put himself in between the door and his best friend, trying desperately to get his friend to just give up and get back to the cars. But Rick only fought past him, beating on the door instead.

“I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me.”

Shane only ignored his friend, turning his attention back to the rest of group again. “Everybody get back to the cars now!”

“Please, we’re desperate. Please help us. We have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left.”

At the sight of her husband desperately pleading to a closed door, Lori ran up to Rick. “Rick, there’s nobody here.” But Rick only ignored her as he continued to talk to whoever he thought was listening on the other side.

“We have nowhere else to go.”

“If you don’t let us in, you’re killing us!”

Shane and Lori tried their best to move Rick away from the door while everyone else kept their eyes open, fighting back any walkers they could. By now there were more and more walkers gaining on them, and Glenn, T-dog, and Y/n started taking them down with their knives.

“You’re killing us! You’re killing us! You’re killing us!” Rick screamed on repeat while almost everyone were just begging him to get into the cars as it became less and less safe for them out in the open.

For a minute it seemed like Shane might just get Rick to the cars, and then the unthinkable happened.

The large metal door to the CDC opened with a hiss of steam.

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 02/47

“What are you going to do?”

Rey shrugged, unable to respond. She stirred the verbena tea in her mug mechanically, avoiding the look Jessica was giving her. After a long silence interrupted only by slurping her scalding drink.

“I dunno. Leave?” She said softly.

Jessica’s eyes widened. She had never seen Rey quite like this. Physically, sure—Jessica had seen her disheveled, her eyes red from crying so much, and bags forming under them from the lack of sleep. But it wasn’t just that. Rey was having an emotional breakdown so violent that even her best friend and confidante couldn’t seem to comfort her.

That Saturday in June had been magnificent. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of summer blooms; they could hear children were laughing in the street, taking advantage of the final hours of the day. As evening fell on London, the sky streaked gold and crimson. It should have been perfect for a wedding.

Until last week, Rey’s life had been perfect. She had a marvelous job as Happiness Manager™ in a posh startup in Uptown, her gorgeous fiancé Finn who cherished her, her lovely flat on Betterton Street, her absolute gift of seeing the best in everyone she met, and her extensive collection of Irregular Choice pumps.

And then everything had collapsed.

Finn had left her, and Rey had lost her wedding, her flat, and her smile, in that order.

She kept the job and the shoe collection. At least she had those, thought Jessica, never the cynic.

She took Rey’s hand gently.

“You can come live with me as long as you want,”

Rey looked up, emerging from her thoughts. Even tear-stained she was still beautiful, with hazel eyes and freckled cheeks. Rey shook her head.

“That’s kind of you. I’ll take you up on it when I get back. But I’m talking about leaving to catch my plane tomorrow.”

“What plane?”

“My honeymoon. The flight to Denver is tomorrow noon. The ticket has already been paid for and it’s non-refundable, I’ve already asked for two weeks off. Married or not, it’s easier to fly there.”

“Alone? I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Rey. You’re shell shocked and miserable, it doesn’t sound like a good idea to go to the U.S. for two whole weeks in your state.”

Rey got up, running a hand through her hair. She hadn’t brushed it in forever and the split ends resisted her fingers.

“Exactly! I don’t have anything to lose. I don’t have the bloke or the flat, I have to pay for the wedding venue, the DJ, and the caterers for nothing. Two weeks of vacation for the first time in ages seems pretty reasonable. And frankly, I don’t have the courage to show up to work tomorrow and face my coworkers and their questions. Travelling can help change my mind about this! Today was supposed to be my wedding day. The best day of my life--” her voice fractured into a sob, shoulders sagging. “And he left me, the bastard…”

Jessica rose and Rey leaned against her, letting the tears flow because she could no longer hold them in. What the blazes had gotten into Finn?

Last Monday he called Rey and told her it was better to call the wedding off. She refused to even think about it, obviously. Everything was ready, all the invites confirmed, the catering paid for, and most importantly, they had been together for four years now. This wedding was the ultimate symbol of their love for each other, right? Finn had launched into a monologue about how much he had really loved her, blah, blah, blah, but .

There had been a but .

There was always a but, when going down the aisle.

This but was Poe, his best friend. Poe had admitted his feeling for Finn before he could marry someone else for the rest of his life and thus become the one that got away.  And this declaration of love was a revelation for Finn. He reexamined his life like a film, his childhood, his social awkwardness, the teasing he endured in school, crushing on his teammates on the football team—and he had an epiphany. He was in love with Poe! And he was going to marry Rey in a week.  The wait transformed into something utterly terrifying (and full of an anguish that he passed off as emotionality ). He was going to destroy his life, but what else could he possibly do? Marry her and string her along even when he knew his heart belonged to someone else? Rey deserved the truth, at the very least. But that would mean breaking her heart, dashing her hopes of their future, and—priorities, priorities—calling off the ceremony.

Baffled, Rey broke down at Jessica’s place. Jessica was then put in charge of informing guests of the cancellation. A disappointing and painful task which she took on for the sake of her friend.

Finn sent a couple texts asking to pick up some of his clean laundry, and Jessica told him he had no chance in hell. He could very well wear Poe’s stuff!

But that couldn’t go on forever. He had to come back at some point to handle moving out, doing all the joint paperwork, and splitting their bank accounts, financially speaking. The figurative splitting would come later, of course.  Priorities first!

Rey resumed her place on the canape cushions and brought the mug to her lips. Jess sat facing her.

“Rey, it’s a bad idea to go alone. You’re shattered right now and that’s completely understandable. I get it.  But I want you to avoid getting snookered in foreign territory,”

“That has nothing to do with it,” Rey replied. She straightened her gaze and her eyes held a new confidence.  “A change would do me some good. The more I think about it the more I see it’s the most intelligent thing to do. I’ll go off for two weeks, alone,  and do this whole road trip. I’ll see the country, meet some new people, clear my mind, and come back ready to confront it all…all the obstacles waiting for me. But in all seriousness, I need a break.”

Jessica pursed her lips, considering the arguments. Rey continued:

“Do you want to stay in the apartment for me? Finn wants to collect some of his stuff. That way he can do it in my absence. I don’t even want to consider running into Poe.”

“Fine,” Jessica conceded. “I’ll stay here while you’re gone and help Finn move. But only if you let me give him a proper beating,”

Rey laughed, for the first time in days.  Her cheeks regained color, and for a second she looked alive and well again.

“Anything you want, but can I ask another favor? Can you drop me off at the airport tomorrow?” (more after the cut)

Rey grimaced, stifled by the burning heat of the airport parking garage. She’d gone through a grand total of ten hours of flight, seven hours of jet lag, three liters of tears, six boxes of tissue paper, and yet she had zero idea of what to do now.

She passed customs ("yes it's my first time in the United States, yes I have repatriation insurance, no I’m not here for work, no I was not a Nazi in 1945") and  picked up her suitcase from baggage claim. She remained dazed for a few minutes afterward, contemplating the swarm of vehicles and travelers. Behind her, the sliding doors let out a breath of air-conditioning every time they opened for a visitor.

Rey was overrun with fatigue, but she had to hold on for a few more hours. First of all: find a taxi, then, check into the hotel, and then she could finally crumble.

The wait for the taxi wasn’t long once she found the departure area. She gave the hotel’s address and finally allowed herself to breathe. Everything was different here, a vast, dry stretch of yellow prairie and red dust.  In the distance, she could see the blue outline of the Rockies, and in front of her the multilane motorway (she supposed she should call it a highway like the Americans) stretched out towards the silhouette of the Denver skyline.

A second later, the driver’s voice dragged her from her slumber. She had fallen asleep without even realizing. The woman pointed out the hotel entrance, retrieved her suitcase from the boot, and just stood there, waiting.

Rey hesitated. Was she supposed to do something?

Suddenly, it dawned on her that she needed a tip, and she realized with horror that she didn’t have a single dollar in her pocket. In her rush to leave she hadn’t bothered to exchange currencies yet. With a mixture of shame and confusion, she handed the woman ten quid, spluttering that she could always exchange it. The woman grimaced and got back into the car without taking the money. Rey heard her swear very distinctly and she chewed on her lip in remorse. She had to get her act together! Grabbing her suitcase with her left hand, she rushed across the pedestrian crossing toward the Four Seasons entrance.

She didn’t so much see as hear the car that bumped into her.

The massive black pickup halted in a screech of tires and Rey’s suitcase bounced against the chrome bull bar. Stupefied, she stared at her suitcase on the ground. The side was smashed in and the handle twisted, she then looked up to the vehicle that had sprung to her left.

The door opened and a man stepped out. The first thought Rey had was that he was the spitting image of his car: towering, dark, and aggressive.

He reached her in two strides.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You threw yourself at my car! Don’t you think you should look before crossing?!”

“I—I’m sorry,” Rey sputtered.

She tried to smile to appease her interlocutor, but felt tears come to her eyes.

“I’m British, I just got here. I looked at the wrong side of the road,”

He assessed her from head to toe, and after ensuring that she had broken nothing apart from her suitcase, verified that there was no damage done to his pickup. Rey thought that it was so big that it could have broken in half without even feeling the aftershock.

Essentially, the vehicle was intact. The man ran a hand through his long, dark hair, and bent over to retrieve the twisted handle of Rey’s rolling suitcase, which he handed to her. Then he turned around and got back into the imposing pickup.

“ Fucking tourists ,” he muttered as he closed the door.

He roared the engine and Rey wondered what he was compensating for with such a huge car. She imagined the vehicle in the narrow, winding streets of London and suppressed a burst of laughter. He wouldn’t even make it past the first intersection and that would be quite the disaster!

A loud honk made her jump. She was still standing in the middle of the road, suitcase in hand. Gathering herself, still processing the shock that she was nearly killed less than an hour into her vacation; she trotted across the crossing to the hotel.

She turned around just in time to see the pickup and its obnoxious owner in the distance. There was a “KYLO REN” bumper sticker on the back and she wondered what it meant. A rock band, maybe?

“Moron!”

She stuck her tongue out at him, a feeble reconciliation considering this disastrous encounter, and took a deep breath.

“Alright, cheer up! Happy vacation from now on. It can only get better from here, from right now…I hope…” *** Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

[evilrubberducke]

IzuMina Week Prompt 5- Color Me Impressed

And I’m finally finished with prompt #5. Only two weeks late too. Pretty sure that’s some kind of record.

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580907 Or on FF.Net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13530836/5/IzuMina-Week-2020

Mina let out a sigh as she stepped out from the agency doors. It had been a long, frustrating day of patrols and she felt like she had walked around the entire city twice over without catching a single villain. On the one hand, not encountering any crime was probably a good sign for the city. On the other hand, it meant she had been intensely bored for the entire day. Now she was finally free to head back to her apartment, scarf down some convenience store dinner, and wait for Izuku to get done with his own patrol.

If she was lucky she might even be able to talk him into watching a movie together over FaceTime, before he inevitably passed out from exhaustion and left her to disconnect the call. Not that she really blamed him. He resolved more cases in a single day than most heroes resolved in a week. There were a lot of people who were calling him the second coming of All Might, with no idea just how right they actually were. A few of their former UA classmates came close to matching his numbers, but none could quite close the gap.

She was proud of her boyfriend, and everything he had achieved, but she did wish he weren’t quite so married to his job. She missed the UA dorms, where he had always been available for cuddles on demand. Now they lived cities apart, and only got to visit each other a couple of times a month when hero work brought him into her neck of the woods. 

So it was that she nearly dropped her bag in surprise when she heard Izuku’s voice calling out to her from the other side of the street.

“Mina! I’m so glad I caught you!” he called, dashing across the street to wrap his arms around her in a tight hug that made her ribs ache a little with its force. 

She didn’t care about that in the slightest, though. She returned the hug with equal force and affection, burying her face into his shoulder and inhaling deeply. He smelled almost exactly like she remembered, a calming mix of the cheap fruity shampoo he favored, cinnamon, and… sweat?

“Izuku, did you run here or something?” Mina asked, lifting her head up to give him a curious look. He was dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt, which would have made dashing there quite awkward.

“Ummm, maybe?” he said, looking away sheepishly, “I was just… really excited to see you again.”

“Awww, I missed you too, you big goof!” Mina said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Then her curiosity won out over her elation over seeing him. “Izuku, what are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“I wasn’t planning on coming until this weekend,” Izuku said, “But some stuff happened faster than I thought it would, and… now I’m here. Sorry for not letting you know.”

Mina shook her head, then gave him a soft smile. “Don’t be. It’s a surprise, but a nice one. Like finding 2000 yen you forgot about in your jacket pocket!”

“Glad to know I’m only worth 2000 yen to you,” Izuku said, returning her smile.

He had gotten so much better at banter in the nearly three years that they had been together. He still wasn’t quite at Mina’s level, but on a good day he could at least give her a decent challenge. And sometimes, when she was feeling particularly slow, he even came out ahead and turned her into a giggling, blushing mess of affection.

Today, however, was not one of those days.

“You’re worth way more than that,” she quipped, shifting to his side so that they could walk arm in arm. “In fact, you’re worth at least a meal at Nakahara’s”

It was her absolute favorite sushi restaurant in the entire city. The man who ran it was a mad genius when it came to sushi, constantly pushing the boundaries of what most people would consider acceptable sushi ingredients. Even still, his food was always delicious, and Mina and Izuku made a point of stopping there for dinner every time he was in town, despite the price.

It was, after all, the site of their first real date. Mina had dragged Izuku there after hearing Yaoyorozu raving about the meal she had eaten there with her parents. Ostensibly it had been because she didn’t want to eat alone, and Izuku had been the only one of her friends with free time that day. The burgeoning feelings she had been developing for her then friend had nothing to do with it in the slightest. 

In hindsight, they probably should have realized that the shop was a bit pricier than the restaurants they usually attended. Mina had been a little preoccupied with denying her feelings at the time, however, and hadn’t realized what kind of place she was dragging Izuku to until they were already seated and were browsing the menu.

In the end, they had split an order of assorted sushi, since it was the most affordable option on the menu. It wasn’t a particularly large dish, which had led to their hands brushing halfway through the meal. Izuku had pulled back as though he had been burned, his face burning bright red from even the brief contact, while Mina had been left frozen with a similar blush on her cheeks.

That had been the point where she had finally stopped lying to herself about her feelings, and had just accepted that she had a crush on her classmate. To her delight, it had quickly become clear that Izuku felt similarly to her. He had even accompanied her that night under the impression that they would be going on an actual date, which put a lot of his blushing, awkward demeanor since she had asked him to come with her in perspective.

From there, the dinner had only gotten better. With her feelings acknowledged, Mina had been able to relax and really be herself. Before long, she’d had Izuku giggling uncontrollably as she made up stories about why the other patrons of the restaurant were there that night. They weren’t the best stories that she had ever crafted, way more absurd and ridiculous than her usual style, but they had been exactly what was needed to dissolve the last of the tension between them.

More dates had followed, getting more elaborate and romantic as they went. They had even taken a trip to Okinawa at the end of their third year, spending an entire week together in a romantic beachside cabin. It was honestly one of Mina’s favorite memories, and she’d been quietly making plans to repeat the trip for their next anniversary. 

“Dinner sounds lovely,” Izuku said, drawing Mina back from her reminiscing, “but… could we go tomorrow? There’s something I want to show you today.”

Mina was a little surprised by the suggestion. Izuku was usually perfectly happy to go along with whatever plans she made, and almost never took the lead. Then again, he almost never showed up to see her unannounced, so maybe this was just a day for surprises. Even still, she wasn’t going to just let him get away with such a vague statement.

“Something you want to show me tonight, huh?” Mina said, a coy grin on her face, “Has Mineta been giving you pickup lines to try again? Because I’m not gonna say no, though I do wish you’d put a little more effort into selling it…”

She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to work out what she was insinuating. When he finally did, he choked slightly and threw a hand up in front of his face to hide the slight blush. “N-No! I wasn’t saying we should… I mean, not right now…”

Mina laughed at his response. If only the world knew that the invincible Deku could be brought low by just a few flirtatious words. Then again, she had heard that he had taken down a villain calling herself “The Temptress” a few weeks back without too much trouble. There might come a day when her teasing ceased to affect him. She doubted that, though. Izuku would be Izuku, no matter what he went through. 

“Alright, I’m done with the teasing for now,” Mina said, tugging on Izuku’s arm to grab his attention, “Let’s see this surprise!”

He nodded once, then pulled out his phone. Mina glanced at it too, hoping for a clue to their destination. Izuku probably wouldn’t keep her in suspense for very long, but she couldn’t help but want to see what had him so excited that he showed up unannounced.

To her surprise, he pulled up a map of the city, with a pin stuck in a nearby district. Because of her patrol route, Mina was actually fairly familiar with the area. It was an upscale neighborhood, with plenty of nice houses and apartments. The shops there were fancy as well, which piqued Mina’s interest even more than before. Wherever Izuku was taking her, it was somewhere nice. 

“So, should I consider this an early anniversary present?” Mina asked as they began to walk towards their mysterious destination.

“No… I, uh, haven’t really gotten you anything yet,” Izuku admitted, “I’ve been busy focusing on… other stuff.”

“Same!” Mina chirped. It was a total lie, but she couldn’t have him getting the idea that she was responsible. Then he might stop helping her fill out her insurance forms. “Maybe we can go shopping after your surprise? There are a couple of good shops near there”

Izuku frowned. “How did you know where we're going?”

“I peeked at your phone,” Mina explained, “Gotta admit, I’m pretty excited. We’re going somewhere nice, yeah? Maybe a fancy cake shop of some sort?”

“Oh, it’s… not that fancy,” Izuku said apologetically. 

“Hmmmm,” Mina hummed, racking her brain for another idea, “Some kind of hidden gem you heard about then? A little mom and pop diner?”

Izuku shook his head. “No, it’s not a restaurant either.”

“Awww, C’mon Izuku!” Mina whined, “Give me some sort of hint! I’m dying here!”

“It’s not far,” Izuku replied, “Can you hold on for just a couple of minutes?”

Mina let out the loudest groan that she could manage, hoping to get a bit of sympathy from her boyfriend, but instead drawing the eyes of several passersby to them. Whispers quickly followed as she and Izuku were recognized. He was famous everywhere, and she had been working hard to grow her own following in the city. 

Normally, getting recognized while she was out of costume was something she enjoyed. The looks of realization on kid’s faces as they realized the pink lady standing in line in front of them at the convenience store was a pro hero were absolutely priceless, and she was never shy about stopping for a picture or autograph. But that was most of the time. Right now, the thought of being stopped for even a minute or two sounded like torture. 

It would probably be for longer than that, though. Pinky was popular around the city, but Deku was a household name in every city in the country. There was no way they were getting away with just a few handshakes and a selfie. And, if a crowd started gathering around them then that would only attract more attention, which would just make things take even longer.

Before the whispers could turn into actions, Mina suddenly found her legs swept out from under her as Izuku lifted her into a bridal carry. The action was smooth as silk, and Mina had no doubt that he had practiced it plenty of times before that point, probably so that the people he saved felt safe and comfortable the entire time. She certainly did, with his powerful arms wrapped around her, pressing her into his chest. 

“Hang on,” he said, low enough that only she could hear it, before blasting off into the sky in a single bound.

The feeling of soaring through the sky on a barely controlled trajectory was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. It wasn’t the first time that Izuku had brought her along while leaping from place to place, but it was the first time that he had done so outside of a combat situation, which gave her time to really appreciate the experience.

She whooped, raising her hands over her head like she was on a roller coaster. Izuku said something back, probably asking her not to move around so much, but the wind whipped his words away before they could reach her ears. He was probably right, and she was being overly risky, but Mina didn’t care. She was having way too much fun.

They landed at the far end of the district, touching down in an alley behind a convenience store that Mina vaguely recognized from her patrols. The flight had left her slightly breathless, and more than a little windswept, but she wasn’t going to complain. They’d covered a dozen blocks in a tenth of the time it would have taken to walk the same distance. Not for the first time, Mina dearly wished her own Quirk allowed her to move like that, instead of just letting her skate around a bit.

“Thanks for the ride,” Mina said, doing her best to finger comb her hair into something a little more presentable than its current state.

“Don’t mention it,” Izuku replied. His own clothes were somehow even more disheveled looking than Mina’s were, which was quite the impressive feat. He was doing his best to straighten them out, but was only really making things worse.

With a small smile, Mina stepped forward and straightened his collar. That was one thing that hadn’t changed, despite the years she had known him. He still couldn’t keep a collar straight, or a tie unbunched to save his life. Thankfully one of his sidekicks was always there to help him out before an interview, even if Mina couldn’t.

“I’m surprised you used your Quirk,” Mina said as she tugged his collar into shape, “You’re usually such a stickler for not using it in public.”

Izuku rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, shifting in place a little as he did so and messing up Mina’s work on his collar almost instantly. “S-Sorry,” he said as she went back to work on it, “I just… didn’t want to have to wait any longer.”

“You’re really excited for this, huh?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I really am.”

“Well then!” Mina said, stepping back a little to admire her handiwork, “Now you’ve got me really intrigued! Let’s go!”

---

“Okay, you definitely surprised me Izuku,” Mina said, glancing around at the empty house that was apparently their destination.

After their landing, Izuku had led her through a large apartment complex, earning them a few curious stares from the various nosy grandmas who lived there, and behind it to a large wooden fence. For a minute, Mina had thought he had gotten lost somewhere along the way, but then Izuku had produced a key from his pocket and opened the gate, letting them into the lot beyond. 

A small house, with its own garden was tucked away back there, far away from the prying eyes of the apartment complex and the street, which was interesting. Mina had no idea how anyone had gotten the permits to actually build the place. Then again, it looked old enough that it might have been here well before the apartments that now surrounded it were even proposed. The paint on its walls was a bit faded, and there was a positively ancient looking satellite dish on the roof, but otherwise the house looked rather well loved and maintained. 

To her immense surprise, Izuku had produced a second key and brought them both inside. Tit was devoid of any furniture, and a layer of dust covered most of the floors and windows. There were a few signs of life, however. A large tarp had been laid out across the floor of what had obviously been a living room at some point, with a half dozen cans of paint holding the corners down. At the center of the tarp was a large picnic basket that looked like it had just been taken out of an old-timey British drama movie.

“So, you brought me for a picnic in an abandoned house?” Mina said skeptically. She trusted Izuku to the moon and back, but this was pretty odd behavior, even for him. “Do I get an explanation?”

Izuku shuffled a little, and turned his gaze to the floor in a display that was so nervous Mina almost felt bad for asking the question that had caused it.

“So, uh, you know how we got a new intern at my agency a couple months ago?” Izuku asked.

Mina’s mood instantly fell. Of course this was a work thing. He was probably in town to track down some villain who was lurking in the area, and had decided to bring her along for a picnic while on the stakeout. It was still something, but with how excited Izuku had been about the whole thing, she’d been expecting something a little more impressive.

“Yeah,” she said, doing her best to sound enthusiastic and failing miserably. “Shimmer something or other.”

“Shimmer Path,” Izuku corrected, “She’s got a really cool Quirk. She can make portals from place to place, like Kurogiri from the League of Villains, but even quicker. And she can make them almost anywhere she’s been before.”

That did catch Mina’s attention. Warping Quirks like that were really rare, especially ones that could be used more than once or twice a day. This newbie had probably been in high demand, which made it all the more impressive that the agency he worked with had managed to snatch her up.

“That’s neat,” Mina said, genuinely meaning it. Her feelings about the disappointing date aside, she was genuinely happy that his agency was growing.

“Yeah!” Izuku said, his enthusiasm for Quirks and heroics overwhelming whatever nerves he had been feeling up to that point. “She’s really nice too! I helped her out a little ago with a problem she was having with her Quirk, and in thanks she offered to make a portal to bring me into the office every day.”

Mina whistled, impressed by the generous offer. If this girl was really as powerful as Izuku said, it meant he would never have to worry about commuting to his agency ever again. He could take the time to make a decent breakfast, get in a morning workout, or even just sleep in. Not that he’d actually do that last one, but Mina was still a little bit jealous of him for having the opportunity.

She wished she had someone with a warp Quirk at her agency. Although now that she thought about it, they wouldn’t even really need to be at her agency at all. They could live in another city entirely and simply warp to wor—

Mina’s thoughts ground to a halt as the reason they were standing in an empty house, one that appeared to have been freshly purchased, finally clicked into place.

“Wait, Izuku, you don’t mean that this is…?”

He nodded once more. “Yeah, it is. I filled out the last of the paperwork this morning. The house is mine, and…” he swallowed loudly before continuing, “And I was hoping it could be yours too.”

It took all the willpower Mina possessed not to simply drop to the floor and melt into a puddle of delighted goo. Slowly, a smile so wide that it made her cheeks ache spread across her face. A moment later, she surged forward and leapt into Izuku’s arms, wrapping herself entirely around him in a full body hug.

“Yes!” Mina cried, “Yes! Absolutely yes!”

He returned the embrace, twirling her around him and laying kiss after kiss on her cheeks as he did so. The move was straight out of a romance movie, and Mina would have chided him for being so cheesy if she hadn’t been so absolutely enamored at the moment. 

Eventually they broke apart, allowing Mina to take stock of the house once more. Somehow, it looked so much nicer now that she knew she was looking at her future home. It wasn’t nearly as cold and empty as her first impression had made it seem. It was just waiting to be filled with furniture, life, and maybe a bit of paint and spackle. Then it would really be a home.

Her home. Her and Izuku’s home. 

Mina squealed in delight, and took off on a whirlwind tour of the house, poking her nose into every nook and cranny that she could find, and mentally planning exactly where she would put all her furniture and decorations. They would even have to buy some new stuff, since the house was easily larger than both of their current apartments combined.

“This place is awesome Izuku!” Mina said, as she burst back into the room. 

In the time that she had been gone, Izuku had unpacked the picnic basket and laid out the somewhat meager fare. It was mostly convenience store bentos and drinks, with a few fresh fruits thrown in as a nod to eating healthy. At that moment, though, it looked absolutely delicious to Mina.

“I’m glad you like it,” Izuku said, holding a can of her absolute favorite soda out to her, “I had to look for quite a while before I got lucky with it.”

“How did you hear about it?” Mina asked, plopping down next to him, “It’s not exactly easy to spot.”

“A real estate agent,” Izuku said, his eyes taking on a far away look, “I saved his daughter from a villain attack, and the next day, I found a big stack of real estate listings on my desk. Apparently someone in the office told him I was looking, and he decided to help out.”

“Using your hero connections for personal gain?” Mina said, her voice filled with mock astonishment as she elbowed Izuku lightly in the ribs, “How scandalous!”

“I didn’t say anything to him!” Izuku protested, a slight grin on his face showing that he wasn’t serious, “I wasn’t even going to look at them, but this one was on top of the pile, and it just… caught my eye. I thought it looked like somewhere you’d like to live.”

“You were absolutely right,” Mina said, snuggling up to his side, “I love it. But not just because it’s funky. I love it because you love it. You could have asked me to live in a shack, and it would still feel like a mansion.”

Izuku blushed a little bit at her words, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders before pulling her in to lay a quick kiss on her forehead. 

“So, now what?” Mina asked once she had stopped giggling like a schoolgirl. 

“Well, there’s still a lot to do before we can move in,” Izuku said, “But I thought we could start with painting?”

Mina nodded. It was a good place to start. The slightly cracked and faded white paint that surrounded them now was fine, but it wasn’t exactly inspiring. They could make it better, make it theirs, and paint it in any color that they wished.

“Well then, let’s get started!” Mina said, hopping to her feet.

---

Several long hours later, Mina dropped back onto the tarp with a sigh of relief. She was dressed in a painter’s smock, courtesy of Izuku thinking ahead and knowing her well, that was liberally coated with paint.

Their painting session had devolved into a paint fight when Mina had gotten bored halfway through the second wall and flicked some paint onto Izuku. He’d assumed the first barrage was an accident, and had ignored the second, but on the third attempt he had retaliated in kind, and the war had begun.

The living room was mostly untouched, since neither of them had wanted to undo their hard work, but the other rooms had not fared quite so well. The kitchen counters would probably need to be replaced after their paint splattering, and cleaning the floors would probably be a pain. They’d also need to haul the three paint cans they’d managed to empty through the apartment complex outside, which would probably make a terrible impression on their future neighbors, considering their current dishevelment. 

Mina didn’t care one bit, however. She was still flushed from dashing around the house, laughing at the top of her lungs as Izuku tried to wrap her in a pain soaked bear hug. She’d dodged him for just long enough that he would feel like she wasn’t giving up, before finally allowing him to catch her, dooming her to a flurry of kisses right then, and a long shower when they finally headed back to her apartment that night. 

She slowly lifted her hands up towards the sky, eyes tracing the splotches of green that dotted her pink skin. Growing up, she’d never thought that the two colors could go so perfectly together, but now she knew better.

Now she knew there had never been two colors that mixed so well.

[zor-earp]

Mysterious Blondes and Stupid Pickup Lines

Her eyes glanced around the dimly lit room filled with the loudest music she had ever heard. “I cannot believe I let you drag me to a godforsaken bar…”

“It’s Friday night Lena. You need to let loose! Live a little! You’re not getting any younger and staying cooped up in your office every day and every night is boring as hell.” Sam shouted over the deafening noise.

“I am happy the way I am currently living my life, thank you very much,” Lena grumbled as she was dragged over to the counter. She had hoped for a quiet evening with a nice glass of Rosé and a good book in her hands. Being hauled off to a bar by her nagging best friend hadn’t been the plan whatsoever.

After ordering their drinks, they sat down and Sam looked around the room filled with people. “Anyone catch your eye yet?” she asked, glancing at her friend who was sipping her drink in silence.

“I’ve already told you, Sam, I’m not interested in you finding me someone to shag.”

Sam let out a loud laugh as she shook her head at her friend. “Shag? Did you just say “shag” Lena? Come on. You’re a grown-ass woman. Can’t you just say fuck?”

“I am a refined and sophisticated woman. I do not say fuck.”

“Of course you are Lena…” The taller brunette rolled her eyes and chuckled softly.

She had known Lena since their first day of university and throughout all those years, she had come to discover that her friend was a complete workaholic. Lena would never go out to parties, would never date, would never stop working for even a minute. One time, the shorter woman had gotten a fever of over 105°F and yet, had still gone to take her economics test. She, of course, aced it… and then was immediately sent to the hospital. It took her about two weeks to recover and even though she was supposed to be on bed rest, she studied day in and day out.

It got worse when she took over Luthor Corp. But Sam couldn’t blame her. The young woman had a huge amount of pressure on her shoulders. Her brother’s attacks had made everything worse and it didn’t help that her mother frowned upon everything she did. The whole world was watching her every move because of her last name. Even after she changed the company’s name to L-Corp, the people of National City were still wary of her. She did her best to get people to forget her shameful last name and what it meant but to no avail. She would be branded as “a Luthor” for the rest of her life. But damn it if she was going to let that stop her from making the world a better place.

“Sam, you still with me?”

The taller woman shook her head to bring her back to reality. She turned and looked at her friend who was putting her phone back in her pocket. “Sorry what?”

“You zoned out staring at the gorgeous redhead in the back there.” Lena chucked and pointed to a beautiful redheaded woman sitting in a booth at the back of the room.

“I was not… who were you emailing?” Sam blushed, hoping she could change the subject.

“Who said I was emailing anyone?” A slim black eyebrow raised in question as Lena looked back at her friend.

“Because the only person you text is me and I’m sitting right beside you so there is no way you’re texting.”

“I text people who aren’t you,” Lena shot back defensively.

“Oh really? Who?”

Lena sat quietly for a second before mumbling a ‘no one’. The tall brunette barked out a laugh and took a swig of her drink. “That’s what I thought.”

“Shut it, Arias. Are you going to go talk to the beautiful woman or not? Because you might lose your chance.” Lena pointed out.

“Maybe… you wouldn’t mind, would you? Because I’d hate to abandon you here… especially since you didn’t even want to be here in the first place…”

“Just go. Who knows, maybe you’ll leave with someone who isn’t me.” Lena flicked her wrist towards the back of the bar, a silent way of telling Sam to go and talk to the woman.

Sam smiled, a silent “thank you” was mouthed before she got up and made her way towards the tall redhead.

Lena let out a sigh as she ordered a second scotch.

“A gorgeous lady like you shouldn’t be drinking alone. Mind if I join you?”

Lena looked up at the voice beside her. She was surprised to see a young blonde looking at her with a smile. The woman gestured to the seat next to Lena. “This seat isn’t taken is it?”

“No… I was graciously abandoned by my friend…” She chuckled as she took a sip of her drink. She looked the woman up and down. Lena was slightly mesmerized. The mysterious stranger was wearing a blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up past her elbows which showed off her strong arms.

“Wow” was all Lena could think and she continued to look at the blonde. Her shirt was tucked into some dark jeans, and Lena would never admit this out loud, but they highlighted her ass perfectly. The brunette turned back to look around the room when she realized she had started staring.

The mystery woman waved down the bartender and ordered herself a drink before sitting down next to Lena. “So, are you a parking ticket?”

“Excuse me?” Lena asked as she turned to look back at the cute blonde.

“Are you a parking ticket?” she repeated, “Because you have ‘fine’ written all over you.”

Lena’s eyebrow rose as she stared at the woman. “That… that was oh so terrible,” she muttered, shaking her head and looking away.

“I can do better.”

“I highly doubt that.” Lena chuckled and looked at the woman pointedly, letting her continue with the pickup lines.

“Alright… well, I’m no photograph but… I can picture us together.” The blonde smirked and ran her fingers through her hair before flashing Lena a cocky grin.

“That the best you can do?” Lena knew she shouldn’t be feeding into this little game that was going on but she couldn’t help herself. The woman sitting next to her was kinda cute…

“Are you a magician? Because whenever I look at you, everyone else just disappears.”

“I’m not. I’m the CEO of my company darling,” Lena responded with a chuckle. This woman had guts to come up to Lena fricken Luthor and use these horrible, and when Lena said horrible, she meant horrible pickup lines.

The blonde furrowed her brow and looked around, seeming confused for a few seconds before she looked back up to Lena’s face. “Wait... okay… I seem to be lost…”

“What are you talking about..?”

“Look… I seem to be lost. Do you mind giving me directions to your heart?” She smirked up at Lena who was now sporting a confused look on her face before it morphed into a neutral expression.

“... Really? Okay… that one wasn’t that bad…” She had to admit, these damn pickup lines were getting slightly better.

“Gosh, that really must have hurt,” the taller woman started saying.

“What? When I fell from heaven? Because I’m an angel? Seriously? That one’s the worst of them all.” Lena said, cutting off whatever was to come next from that line.

“No… I was going to say when you fell out of that vending machine,” the woman responded, seemingly unfazed by Lena cutting her off.

“A vend-- okay what the hell?”

“Well, you must have fallen out of a vending machine since you look like an absolute snack…” The blonde winked and took a sip of her drink, keeping eye contact with Lena.

“Wow… I’ll admit, I didn’t expect that one.”

“I am known for being full of surprise.” She chuckled, shrugging her shoulders as she looked at the brunette. “But umm… hey. You’re pretty and I’m cute… together we’d be Pretty Cute don’t you think?”

“And we’re back to zero. How do you go from being an absolute dork to a decent flirt, back to a complete dork?”

“Well, I’d say it’s all part of my charm. Wouldn’t you?” She grinned and shifted closer to the brunette.

“I’d say it’s part of your annoyingness…” Lena mumbled under her breath as she shook her head. She looked over at Sam who seemed to be having fun… making out with the redhead. Her friend sure knew how to get right to the point when it came to things she wanted.

A quiet voice brought her back to reality. “Is that your friend over there?”

“Yes. The tall brunette making out with the redhead.”

“Yeah… the umm… the redhead is my sister.”

Lena turned to look fully at the blonde. “She is…?”

“Yeah.” The blonde gave her a short nod and finished off her drink.

“Oh” was all Lena managed to say before she downed her whole drink.

“You alright?”

“Just fine.”

“You sure.” “One hundred percent.”

“Are you from Tennessee?”

Lena snapped out of whatever little haze she was in, looking back at the blonde. “No?”

“Really? Because you’re the only ten I see.”

“I’m actually from Ireland,” Lena responded with a slight chuckle.

“Oh… and here I thought you were from France.”

“What in the world would make you think I’m from France?” She asked, confused. Did she sound french? She’d have to ask Sam later.

“Well, you know… I figured you were from France because I think Eiffel for you…”

Lena faced palmed internally. “This is getting ridiculous…” she muttered quietly.

The blonde got up and stood in front of Lena. “Feel my shirt.”

“What? No.”

“Come on, just feel it. Please?” she asked with a slight puppy dog pout.

“Fine.” Surrendering to the pout on the other woman’s lips, Lena reached her arm out and felt the cotton fabric. “Okay? What about it?”

“Do you know what it’s made of?”

“Probably cotton? Why?”

“Wrong. It’s made of girlfriend material.” The blonde winked before taking a slow sip of her drink.

Lena just sat there, staring at the woman before her who was sporting a huge smile on her face.

“You are just… unbelievable…” she whispered as her eyes glanced down to the blonde’s lips.

That’s when said lips turned into a slight smirk. “Well then… kiss me if I’m wrong but… dinosaurs still exist right?”

And that was it for the young brunette. Lena grabbed a fistful of the woman’s shirt and pulled her forwards, crashing their lips together.

Lena felt the blonde’s arms wrap around her waist as she held firmly onto her shirt, deepening their kiss. Their lips worked in unison as they held each other close.

Lena ran her hands through blonde locks of hair as the other woman moved her body in between the Luthor’s legs.

The blonde woman only pulled away when they finally had to catch their breath. They stayed quiet, foreheads pressed against each other with their eyes closed. This felt… right.

Lena opened her eyes to blue ones staring right back at her. “Hi…” she whispered, not letting go of the blue-eyed beauty.

“Hi yourself…” the blonde chuckled.

“I missed you…”

“I know… I meant to drop by today with lunch but Snapper gave me an extra article and I didn’t have time…”

Lena smiled. “Well, then it’s a good thing we were both at the same bar tonight huh?”

Kara chuckled, nodding her head before quickly pecking Lena’s lips. “Definitely.”

Lena kept her arms around her girlfriend’s neck as she looked into her eyes. “I can’t believe you hit on me using those horrible pickup lines darling…”

“Hey, you loved every minute of it. Don’t try to deny it.”

“I did… you were quite… charming.”

“Only for you babe,” Kara smiled and breathed in. It felt nice being in Lena’s arms again. With their busy schedules, they hadn’t had much time to themselves. This was nice. She had missed this all week.

“So… your sister…” Lena started, nibbling her lip nervously.

“I know… I didn’t think you’d be here… Alex and I were just getting drinks. She had a long day and thought we both needed to have a chill night…”

“Yes well… she might end up “Netflix and chilling” with Sam if my dear old friend has anything to say about it…” Lena chuckled, pointing to the two women currently making out in the booth.

“Ew… I do not need to see my sister making out with your best friend…”

“Yes well, grow up my love. Your sister is allowed to have a sexual relationship. You don’t see her complaining about you having one now do you.”

Kara rolled her eyes. “Oh shush… You ready to meet her?”

“I wasn’t expecting to meet your sister for the first time tonight… I’m not even wearing appropriate attire…” Lena mumbled quietly.

“You look beautiful. You always do, baby,” Kara smiled as she looked her girlfriend up and down.

“What if she doesn’t like me? Kara this is your sister… Your older sister… I don’t even have my speech with me…”

“You made a speech?” Kara asked, amusement lacing her voice.

“Yes of course! I had to be prepared. I’m not prepared right now.”

Kara smiled and took Lena’s hands in her own. “Lena, sweetheart,” she started, using one hand to lift Lena’s chin so they could be eye to eye, “she is going to love you because she sees how happy you make me.”

“But wh--”

“No buts. She’s going to love you. Just like I love you. And even if she didn’t, that wouldn’t change how I feel about you. I am so deeply in love with you Lena Luthor. And nothing will ever change that.”

Lena sighed, a small smile gracing her lips. She leaned forward slightly, kissing the blonde ever so softly. “I love you too Kara Danvers…”

They stayed still as they held each other close. “Also,” Kara started quietly, “I overheard you telling Sam that you are, and I quote, “a refined and sophisticated woman who doesn’t say fuck”,” Kara smirked as she felt Lena tense up. “And the many nights in my bedroom would say otherwise my dear…” she whispered, just loud enough for just Lena to hear her.

She let out a laugh when she was shoved off her brunette girlfriend. “Oh shut it,” Lena grumbled as she pushed Kara to the side so she could stand up.

Kara chuckled and took Lena’s hand in her own. “Come on, it’s time you meet my sister.”

She lead them over to the booth at the back of the room where her sister was sitting and making out with Sam. Letting out a small cough to get their attention, Kara stood next to the booth with Lena holding her hand tightly. Alex and Sam stopped their kissing when they realized they had company.

“Alex, I’d like you to meet Lena… my girlfriend. Lena, this is my big sister Alex.” Kara smiled as she looked between her sister and her nervous girlfriend, hoping for the best.

The redhead moved away from Sam slightly to look up at the brunette who seemed to be clutching onto the blonde for dear life.

“Nice to meet you, Lena,” Alex started saying before Sam promptly cut her off.

“Girlfriend?!” Sam shrieked, causing multiple heads to turn in the direction of the four women. “Lena? Did she say “girlfriend”?! Care to explain?” she continued with a slightly whispered voice.

“Yes, Samantha,” Lena rolled her eyes at her friend, “you heard right.”

“Okay, yes, I heard right. But please, explain. Why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone? I’ve been trying to set you up for months!”

“Oh, simple, because I didn’t want you to find out,” Lena stated easily, sliding into the booth across from the other two women and pulling Kara along with her.

Sam sat there, staring at Lena with her mouth widened slightly while the two Danvers Sisters watched them with amusement on their faces.

“I didn’t want you to know about Kara because I know how you get whenever I start dating someone.”

“You’ve never really dated anyone, Lena...”

“Which is exactly why I didn’t tell you about her. You always expect my relationships to be… well…  meaningless sex… I didn’t want you to think whatever was happening with Kara was just a one-time thing… because,” Lena paused, taking Kara’s hand in her own and looking into beautiful blue eyes, “I like-- love her… a lot... More than anything in the world. And I’m hoping she’ll be a big part of my life… for a long time.”

Kara smiled as a blush came over Lena’s face. “You’re adorable babe…” she chuckled, kissing the brunette's cheek. “I love you too.”

“I approve!”

All three women turned to look at Alex who had just smacked down her mug of beer. The redhead smiled before downing the rest of her brew and looking around at the three pairs of eyes watching at her. “What? Why are you all staring at me?”

“Did you just say you approve?” Kara smiled widely as she pulled Lena closer. “See? I told you she’d approve of you sweetheart.”

Lena let out a heavy breath she hadn’t realize she was holding in. “Oh thank god…” she sighed in relief.

“Now, let’s get wasted!” Alex shouted, as she flagged down a waiter and ordering a few more rounds.

The night continued and the four women managed to closed down the bar. Though, they did get kicked out at around 3 AM when Alex tried to steal some booze from behind the counter.

They stumbled out from the building and looked around. “God, that was fucking awesome!” Alex shouted into the night.

“Shhh… too loud Danvers… too loud,” Sam mumbled as she grabbed onto the redhead’s arm. “No more loud noises please…”

Lena and Kara stood back slightly as they watched the two other women drunkenly walk out onto the sidewalk. Kara smiled as she held onto her girlfriend’s hand, keeping an eye on her sister to make sure she didn’t run out into the street.

“I’m glad you came out to a bar tonight…” she whispered, glancing down at the smaller brunette.

“Me too…” Lena smiled, leaning into the blonde’s side. “Who knew my best friend and your sister would get along so well…” she chuckled as Sam pulled Alex into a drunken kiss.

Kara shivered slightly. “Oh… gross…”

Lena let out a soft laugh as she leaned up to kiss her girlfriend. “I enjoyed meeting your sister tonight… I’m glad she approved of us…”

“I told you she would…”

“And you were right. Once again.” Lena smiled as she leaned up, kissing the blonde deeply.

“I love you, Kara Danvers…”

“I love you too, Lena Luthor…”

[split-n-splice]

Last chapter! eep Cue violence.

[chapter guide]

Chapter 6 - Sever

Shego had been ready for the night to take a turn for the worse, braced to fight her way out of it. Luckily, the worst didn’t come that night.

Her weary escort merely tossed her a key with an attached number before departing without any sordid demands, only grumbling a complaint about her lack of expressed gratitude. Booking her a room in a motel far from his own was awfully gracious of a so-called villain, but she was too wiped-out to look a gift horse in the mouth – or thank him, for that matter.

She’d been prepared to catch shut-eye in an alley or on a bench somewhere – it wouldn’t have been the first time – but there was something inherently wrong about finding sanctuary in a cheap motel room. Still, she was grateful for the place to crash even if it wasn’t her own bed. If this was what it meant to never go home, then she’d just have to get used to it.

She supposed she’d have to get used to the disquiet she felt about not having her special sleep-aid as well, but she’d been too tired to worry about it for long.

Simply being left alone that night eased Shilo’s nerves just enough to get some much-needed rest. She was out like a light the moment her head hit the pillow, drained enough to sleep through the night on top of the unfamiliar blankets. She’d opted to keep her boots on, still wearing her uniform beneath her civilian attire, ready to run should her family have the audacity to call the dogs on her. She’d been too tired to undress anyway.

But the peace of mind slumber held was a sham, and it evaporated in the morning sunlight as that damn cheeky yellow ball of fire glared in through the slats in the blinds, filling the little room with its unwelcome warm glow. The clock on the nightstand informed her it was barely eight in the morning. Her circadian rhythm wasn’t far off the mark, if only she were still abiding by the strict routine.

Shilo groaned and raised her arm over her eyes, cursing the sun for waking her.

Like a waking hydra, her anxieties reared their ugly heads one by one. First came guilt for bailing last night, followed by the guilt of letting down the twins by failing to show up for hero training. Grief for her material possessions begged her to go back for a jewelry box. Apprehension came through loud and clear though, asking her insistently, What are you going to do now? She was swamped with mixed feelings, all vying for attention, the loudest of which was dread.

She dreaded what today would bring. If all went according to plan – no, she didn’t even have a plan, only a goal to get out of Dodge – if all went well, then this was the day she officially cut ties with this damn town. Nothing was changing her mind.

With luck, she wouldn’t have to confront her family today or ever, or bear the crushing weight of guilt and face-to-face goodbyes that might very well be enough to make her willpower crumble. After today, she’d officially be a deserter, and her little brothers would officially have no mother-figure, and she’d officially disown the organization supervising and funding Team Go. After today, she might even become a face on a missing person flyer. She hoped she could be so lucky as to eventfully be forgotten like one too.

As she rolled over and curled up with her back to the light, Shilo chided herself that her family shouldn’t concern her anymore. They would be just fine without her. Maybe even better, if she wasn’t around to distract them and cause turmoil through obstinacy and defiance. Besides, it was high time she started looking after number one.

Dr. Drakken wasn’t due to pick her up until checkout time, which wasn’t for a few hours yet, but she couldn’t coax sleep back to her no matter how much she wished she could lie there just a little longer.

Albeit still drowsy, she reached for the utility pouch on her calf, double-checking the wad of cash as she considered where she might find a nice breakfast. She racked her brains idly for any places she might have seen nearby, but it was ultimately decided she’d have to do a little exploring around this end of town to get her bearings to track down someplace decent to grab some grub.

Shilo was about to face the day on her own accord when a knock at her door interrupted a silent pep talk she’d been giving herself to get herself out of bed. She scowled, checking the time – it was only a quarter past eight now. Though it grated her, it didn’t surprise her in the least that the rogue doctor might have changed his mind about the pickup time. He was a madman after all, and he probably had a point to prove like the rest of them.

She stalled for a moment, sitting up to stretch and yawn. The knock came again with evermore urgency as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Something about it made her quirk her brow, but she didn’t give it a second thought.

She should have.

She reluctantly drug her feet to the door and turned the deadbolt, grousing, “Come on, Doc, it’s too early for—”

As Shilo opened the door, her eyes flew wide and all lingering bleariness vanished in a bone-chilling heartbeat. She blanched as she gazed up at the self-proclaimed authority figure.

Of course. What else could she have expected?

She would slam the door and lock it again, but knew it would prove useless. A closed door wouldn’t stop him. Hugo would just kick it down casually and pay for damages later. She steeled her resolve and fixed a glare up at him. “What are you doing here?” she demanded sourly, her brow furrowed as he looked past her to scan the room before settling his eyes on her.

She didn’t appreciate the suspicion and following relief that flashed across his face anymore than the fact he was here at all. If she had to guess, he’d expected to find evidence of funny business in the room at her back, and that he was pleased now to be proven wrong. And so what if he had found something? What she did in sketchy motel rooms was her own business anyway.

“Rise and shine, little sister,” said Hugo smugly, as if he were merely proclaiming his victory in a game of hide-and-seek they used to play before the comet hit.

He was beaming and she wanted to sucker punch the triumphant smile off his face, but before she could draw back her fist, he was reaching for her. She didn’t have the chance to leap back before his grasp closed around her arm. The man did not know his own strength – he’d break her one of these days.

No – no, he wouldn’t, because very soon there wouldn’t be any more of these days.

Her shock was replaced with anger in an instant and she gnashed her teeth, glaring heatedly up at him. “You’re stalking me now?” she spat vehemently, trying and failing to pry his fingers from around her bicep as she stumbled after him. She had a hunch he’d spent the night reviewing traffic camera footage with a fine-toothed comb to find her – which meant he had to know where Dr. Drakken was as well. Her heart gave a nervous jump.

“Oh, like the pervert you’re so set on hasn’t been?” Hugo retorted, voice rising with his temper. “Milo told me all about yesterday’s incident on the way to school. I cannot believe you. Shilo, that man could have abducted you.” He practically stuffed her into the Sloth parked just outside and took his seat behind the wheel in the next instant before she could unlock her door to leap back out.

“And what do you call this?” Shilo challenged incredulously, gesturing wildly to the air around her.

Warmth blooming in a fist, she had every intention to blast her way through the door to bust out, but a sudden pressure against her leg snapped her attention down to her lap. Predicting her moves, Hugo was a step ahead of her – but she hadn’t expected him to jump to drastic measures. Mouth agape, she looked up from an autoinjector pressed to her thigh, the emergency suppressant sapping the heat from her palms within seconds.

Her skin prickled at the violation and she broke out in a cold sweat as she gawped at her brother. What right did he have to look half as shocked as she felt? It was her leg he’d just stuck with a needle, her bloodstream he’d plunged a dubious drug into.

“You didn’t take your medicine last night,” he muttered quickly, as if that excused his actions, and threw the spent injector to the floorboard.

Shilo stared at the aposematic pen at her feet, appalled by the little thing that had been used against her. She knew Hugo carried the neutralizer formulated specifically for her on him at all times, but it was intended for emergencies , like if she was overheating or going overkill. She was dangerous after all. Even as a hero, sometimes they needed a way to cool her down. As far as she knew, no such drug existed yet to mute her brothers’ glow – it was easy for them when their glow wasn’t so destructive and unpredictable and feared.

Hugo’s lapse in anger was over, and he was forcefully turning the key in the ignition. “You’re my little sister,” he said firmly, but she barely heard him. “I’ll always do what I have in order to protect you.”

She heard that. Her attention snapped back up from the pen she ground to bits under her heel.

“Newsflash!” Shilo spat, livid as she shook off the shock of the needle. The effects were temporary. The playing field would be level soon and then she’d be fit to kick his ass. “I’m not little anymore. I don’t need your protection.”

She was ignored.

“Where is this Doc you’ve been seeing anyway?” Hugo demanded. When he received no reply, he glanced away from morning traffic to his scowling sister. “Well? I want a word with him.”

So he didn’t know where her ticket out of Go City was yet. Good. “Forget it. I’m not telling you.”

“The receptionist said you came in with someone last night—”

“That doesn’t mean he stayed with me.”

Hugo scoffed and a grimace twisted his face. “What did you expect?”

The neutralizer drug couldn’t snuff out the heat burning in her cheeks. “Would you stop that?” Shilo all but screamed at him, and he almost flinched. Almost. “There is nothing weird going on!” To him, her outburst probably sounded like denial.

If he gripped the steering wheel any tighter, he was liable to bust it. “Well then what is going on?” he dared, but she couldn’t answer that. No answer she could possibly give him would get him off her back, not that he’d buy them when he’d already drawn his own conclusions. “The man’s a predator, I’m telling you. He’s no good.”

He had no idea how right he was, but still – he had no right sounding so sure of it.

Oh, how she badly she itched to slug her brother now that burning him wasn’t an option. But he was driving, and a car wreck wasn’t on her agenda for today. Not this early in the morning anyway. “Well, I’m not prey,” she ground out instead. At least, she’d leave the rogue doctor with something to remember her by if she did fall victim. And as far as the doctor being no good – well, she was counting on that, but she couldn’t tell Hugo that. “I don’t want your opinion of my friends, so why don’t you take them and shove them where the sun don’t shine, huh?”

“Watch your mouth, missy,” he warned.

To which she coughed, “Dickhead,” in defiance.

Her brother nearly rear-ended a pricey sports car ahead, but disregarded her remark. “Where are you hiding him?” he persisted instead.

Hugo slamming on the breaks had jerked Shilo in her seat, and she was even closer to throwing punches now than before. She crossed her arms tight instead and refused to answer him. She refused to even put on her seatbelt.

She didn’t break, so after another circle around the block spent pressuring her, interrogating her, he turned to head home. He was pulling theories from a hat. Drug dealer? Sugar daddy? A simple creep who’d found her sweet spot?

Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong with his last guess, she supposed.

Shilo had half a mind to just run for it when they reached the driveway, but there was no telling if she’d have another chance to grab her things. Rather than bolting, she hastily stormed into the house ahead of her brother while he was still wrestling himself out of the confines of the Sloth.

She made a beeline for her room, but backpedaled back down the staircase and around to the kitchen for the phone, fumbling with her uniform beneath the sweater to reach down her shirt for the crinkled business card she had tucked back into her bra yesterday while packing. She’d almost forgotten about it entirely.

Relieved the hand-written number was still legible, she dialed it quick with trembling fingers and hoped like mad that she got it right as it rang and rang and rang. Come on, pick up, she pleaded inwardly, fidgeting as she waited, bound to the damn wall by the damn cord—

“Nnngh . Hello? How may I, ugh, direct your call?” came a groggy voice on the other end, failing to sound professional, and Shilo’s tense shoulders relaxed slightly. Cool relief washed over her for a split second. How bizarre it was to be glad to hear him made her a little dizzy.

“Someone’s sleeping in,” she quipped, a nervous waver in her voice, but now wasn’t the time for banter. She cut to the chase. “I’m ready. Like, now. ”

Hugo came stamping into the kitchen after her then. She’d hoped to make the call as quick as possible, but she hadn’t been quick enough, because he snatched the telephone from her hand and held onto her so she couldn’t scurry off or reach it.

“Hello?” he harshly barked into the receiver, launching into an interrogative investigation. “I have questions for you and you’re going to answer them. What business do you have with my sister? What do you want from her? If I find out you’re messing around with her, so help me! Why don’t you quit hiding in the shadows and face me like a man, coward?”

Hugo could deny it all he wanted, but he jumped at every chance to fight and show off, even if it meant provoking it. Shilo was too miffed to roll her eyes at his goading.

She was busy anyway. With his gift of superstrength, he held her at bay effortlessly as she clawed at him in her vain attempt to reclaim the phone. She could barely make out the flippant doctor’s curt answer, “Sorry. Can’t. I must honor Miss Go’s wishes.”

“Listen here, mister. If you mess with one of us, you get the whole package,” warned her steaming brother. “If you hurt her—”

Shilo pounded on his chest with one fist as hard as she could and cried out her fury in a jarring scream, because obviously thrashing and tugging wasn’t getting his attention. “The only one hurting me here is you!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.

Her hulking brother glanced down to her suddenly with a look of surprise, realizing how tightly he’d been holding onto her arm, and released her. She nearly stumbled as her weight came down from her tiptoes. Shilo rubbed what was bound to become a bruise and flexed her fingers before making a dive at the telephone.

Hugo had taken the scenic route home while trying to work answers out of her. As such, it had been roughly half an hour since she’d been stuck with the needle. Given her adrenaline, the emergency suppressant formula was wearing off that much faster, and the heat in her desensitized palms was returning as she grappled at him.

He held the phone out of reach and tried to block her. “Shilo, please,” he begged irritably, and in the next moment there was no phone left to fight over as Shilo had obliterated it right out of his palm with a single fizzling shot. It certainly left her brother’s hand smarting.

She whipped around to tear out of the kitchen, her brother barking, “Hey!” after her as she thumped up the stairs, each footstep falling in time with her thudding heart.

Though Shilo was quicker and more agile, whipping up the stairs and around the corner in a flash, it didn’t buy her much time. Hugo was hot on her heels. He reached her in time to snatch her by the backpack as she tried to make a leap of faith from her second-story bedroom window.

“Shilo! What on Earth has gotten into you?” he grunted, dragging his thrashing sibling away from freedom, but her answer came in screams of curses and unintelligible protest.

There was little anyone could do against her brother’s superstrength, but it didn’t stop her from trying. He made the mistake of adjusting his hold on her, trying to hoist the squirming girl under his arm, and it was in the moment he switched hands that she twisted and writhed and slipped out of his grasp.

Without a moment to spare, she made a break for it, slamming her bedroom door behind her. She didn’t look back as she heard the crash and splintered wood scattering into the hallway as he came smashing through the door like an unbridled rodeo bull – paying zero regard to the damage he left in his wake, as usual.

It was probably just a game of chase to him, but she’d never been so afraid of being caught.

Shilo scrambled as the hallway rug slipped beneath her. She barely regained her footing in time to launch herself down the staircase before she could fall headfirst down it. The open front door was just ahead. Just a few more steps, and she could be home free—

A body was crashing into her then, trunks for arms wrapping around her slender frame, plowing her over and just about crushing the air out of her. Her shriek caught in her throat, and then she was wrestling against her hulking brother once more. It was nothing like the play fights they used to have as kids, before he’d gotten his damn superstrength – this wasn’t a harmless tussle. He really didn’t know his own strength, did he? He could snap a human’s spine if he wasn’t careful – hell, she was lucky she was hardier than the average human.

It wasn’t the first time he’d used his advantage of superstrength against her to subdue her, but that had always been to prevent her from going overboard in a battle or something – this – this was him grappling with her to get her wrists behind her back as if she were a criminal resisting arrest, pinning her to the floor at the bottom of the staircase with the glorious freedom of the front door staring her in the face.

She was furious, but a sputter of hot plasma singeing the vigilante only made him swear through grit teeth. Her heart hammered out a deafening beat in her ears.

Cold metal clasped around one wrist and Shilo was wrenched up and back. Before she could do anything about it, her other arm was twisted behind her again, a second metal bracelet clicking into locked position.

Her thundering heart roared protest she couldn’t utter herself even as her lips parted in a snarl, and she didn’t hear whatever she swore at him as he backed off to smooth out his hair and shirt.

Handcuffing her wasn’t going to stop her. He had to know that. Who did he think he was, anyway? He sure as hell wasn’t an officer.

But when Shilo tried to jump up, she only fell back and winced as she struck her head on a post. “What?” She squirmed, throwing a glance behind her as she discovered her brother had tethered her to the last leg of the staircase railing. “Oh, that’s low,” she spat up at him.

It was clear Hugo was at a loss for how to handle her – and he’d already used the pen in the car. He was running out of time. She’d be breaking free soon enough. “This is for your own good,” he insisted, and even she could tell he doubted it himself despite how confident he tried to sound. He began to pace, his hands finding his hair and eyes darting. “I am not letting my little sister disappear with some stranger. No way, no how. This will pass, Shilo,” he went on as if trying to soothe her, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

Regardless, it only served to sicken her and set her resolution to leave in stone.

“We’ll get you checked out,” he rambled on, a tender way of alluding to a drug test, maybe even rehab. “You’re being unreasonable – it’s a phase—”

Shilo scoffed incredulously, her dry mouth finally working again to form words. “I’m being unreasonable?” she laughed out venomously, nearly shrieking it at him. “You handcuffed me to the staircase!” She tried to kick his ankles, but he was out of reach.

“I will not stand by and let you be kidnapped!” he bellowed back at her, and his own distraught temper made him reel. He pinched the bridge of his nose as if it was absurd this was even up for discussion.

“You kidnapped me! You are literally holding me against my will,” she growled as she picked herself up again to strain forward against the cuffs. “And it’s not abduction if I plan it and go willingly , genius.”

“Well this is a poorly conceived plan!” he criticized hotly, jabbing a finger at her that she wanted to bite off at the knuckle. “And I will not let you execute it.”

Shilo tugged against her restraints, but the railing creaking behind her offered little to no give. At the moment, she didn’t care if the railing or her wrists broke first. She regretted not letting the boys abuse it more by sliding down it like they loved to do – but no, she’d had to be a stringent surrogate mom-sister, and now the damn railing was as sturdy as the day it was installed.

Despite her desperation to break free driving her to heave forward and strain against heating metal cutting into her wrists, Hugo made the foolish mistake of trying to tame her with a gentle hand on her shoulder, trying to guide her back down to the floor. She tried to shrug him away, but when that proved ineffective, she did the next best thing and sank her teeth into his hand instead, locking on and squeezing her eyes tight.

It wasn’t as bad as biting a pointing finger off at the joint, but it was effective in making him reel.

“OW!” Howling, Hugo ripped his hand away with a yelp, but not without leaving a mark. “You bit me! What are you, five?”

“Let me go or I’m pressing charges on your ass!” Shilo threatened. As if anyone would even take her seriously if she reported it. GJ would just ensure it was brushed it under the rug. “This is wrong and you know it.”

Her brother only took a cautious step away, out of reach of anymore bites or kicks. “What do you see in that guy?” he asked in exasperation, grasping at straws.

“Nothing!”

“Then why are you so determined to go with him?”

“Because I want to,” she spat, and resumed throwing herself forward in hopes of loosening the railing to the point of breaking. She slammed herself back against the pole as well, her stuffed backpack padding the impact as she fought to snap something or wriggle something loose, but it was proving futile.

“I need answers here. Are you on something, Shi?” Hugo questioned skeptically. “Is he supplying you—?”

“No!” she denied. A fresh charge grew in her glowing fists as the energy flowed back to her, and she continued to fight against the restraints. Her wrists were sure to be marred from this. “I already told you,” she snarled, stamping a foot, “it’s you guys. I can’t take you controlling me anymore. Having freak powers doesn’t mean I have to be a hero, I don’t want to play the mom, I don’t want to be bossed around by you – I don’t – I’m sick of you all!” Amidst her fury, tears stung her eyes and threatened to humiliate her further. “Now I have a way out, and here you think you have the right to stop me? I’m a legal adult, idiot, and you aren’t the boss of me anymore,” she explained grimly, as calmly as she could through the rising panic and a rock in her throat about to choke her. “I can do whatever I want!”

Her big brother stood wordless for a second as the reality of what exactly he was doing began to really sink in. She saw it in his eyes as he looked toward the cuffs anchoring her to the staircase. But then he shook his head as if to remind himself how certain he was that he was doing the right thing. “No. This will pass,” he repeated firmly. “You’ll thank me later.”

He’d eat those words.

Shilo’s livid glare darkened. If looks could kill. Her brother braced himself when the jade glow behind her back flared brightly and she curled her lip. “No I WON’T!” she shouted, palms blazing hot as she opened them up to release a blast straight into the thick wooden post. As if struck by a bolt of lightning, it splintered with a crackle and pop, sending wooden shrapnel flying.

She might still be cuffed, but at least she wasn’t bound down anymore.

She dodged as Hugo lunged at her. Evading the paws swiping at her, she hastily writhed to twist her arms up and over, contorting to bring her trapped wrists to the front of her – which was so much easier in her head. She didn’t have time to blame difficulty on the go-bag on her back. She charged another blast and raised her hands up to swing it at his chest like a ball to knock him free of the doorway, but before she could launch it, her big brother flung himself at her again in the attempt to wrangle her back into custody.

As he plowed into the dismayed superhuman, her hands came down in the wrong spot at the wrong time, and before she could recall or redirect it, the blast discharged pointblank against her brother’s head.

The blow was enough to knock the wind out of herself and singe her sweater, even with a skull between her weaponized hands and her midriff. Somehow Shilo was still standing, though her knees threatened to buckle under the weight as her brother’s arms went limp around her waist and his hulking body collapsed to the floor with a thud that shook the house.

Stunned, Shilo stumbled back on wobbly legs. The glow from her hands was snuffed out entirely in her fists as she stared down in horror at her brother lying motionless at her feet. Her gaze trailed from him to her trembling hands still cuffed together, and the panicked realization formed in her head. If abandoning her family didn’t feel like treason, then using potentially lethal force against one of her own sure as hell did.

She didn’t take her eyes off her brother as she shuffled slowly back.

He was just knocked out cold – he had to be. He’d get up in a minute – but she didn’t want to be here when he did. She wasn’t leaving her baby brothers another step closer to total orphans with no one to guide them, and she certainly hadn’t just killed her big brother. Should she check for a pulse? She’d call an ambulance if she hadn’t already obliterated the kitchen phone. There was blood glistening in his hair. Was he still breathing?

Shilo’s heart was fluttered wildly like a trapped bird and her head felt light.

A resonating beep-beep suddenly shattered her shell-shocked spell, and she whipped around to face the open door.

Villain or otherwise, Dr. Drakken’s sketchy black SUV idling out front was a blessing in disguise, come to whisk her away from her own personal hell.

Her feet felt like lead, but she forced herself to move anyway, breaking into a mad dash across the lawn before she knew it and wrenching open the door to dive in, laying claim to shotgun by default. The henchmen in the back all stared at her with different levels of surprise, eyes on the handcuffs.

“Ready to take you up on your offer!” she declared, breathless as she buckled herself in awkwardly. “Step on it. Just get me as far from here as possible, now.”

Dr. Drakken obliged. It didn’t take a genius to grasp the urgency of her request.

The henchmen hovering behind her didn’t dare ask questions. Shego was thankful for that. As she fished around in her utility pouch for an extra bobby pin, she was also thankful she’d never found the chance to change out of her uniform and disguise from yesterday’s mission to the geek lab, otherwise she wouldn’t have brought the damn handy suit along at all. Hell, her gloves and mask were still shoved under the seat, where she’d forgotten them yesterday.

She tried to ignore Dr. Drakken’s gaze straying from the road to her bruising wrists as she freed herself from warped metal restrains and tossed her backpack to the floor. Rubbing her new sores, she settled into silence, glaring intently ahead at the dash until his voice made her jump.

He finally spoke up with a simple question, “Are you sure?”

She blinked away her stupor and clamped her mouth shut tight as she noticed they were moments away from the last intersection before the onramp to the freeway. Giving her a last-minute chance to change her mind was awful chivalrous of a crook. She waited until they had reached the onramp before shrugging and answering, “No turning back now.”

There was no rejoicing to be had over the addition to their ranks. Only a solemn quiet filled with the hum of the engine and the ambience of the freeway.

The interstate arched away from the coastline, destined to take them blessedly far away. Shego leaned her head against the window as she watched her hometown in the mirror dwindle behind her and finally out of sight. She’d call herself lucky if she never had to see it or face the people residing there ever again.

A/N:

But wait - there's more! Hahh. Story continues in The Company You Keep.

[theawkwardterrier]

Stitch Together

Summary: Peggy and Steve can't leave a particular competition behind in the twentieth century.

It’s Steggy Secret Santa tiiiiime!! This one is for @roboticonography, with best wishes for a very, very merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy!!

AO3 link here.

As with so many things, perhaps the trouble would never have started without Tony’s big mouth.

“Are you knitting over there, Cap?” he asked, too loudly, breaking the quiet that had settled over the jet as they flew back from Australia. Even Peggy and Clint, the furthest away, turned around from the pilot’s controls. “If you wanted upgrades on your suit, you could’ve just asked.”

“It was going to be a Christmas present for you,” Steve said, fingers continuing their consistent movement. “But if that’s your attitude, maybe I should reconsider.”

Tony held up his hands. “Carry on. Should never have stepped in. I’m sure it’s going to be the best…?”

“Sweater,” Steve inserted.

“The best sweater I’ve ever worn.”

Steve said dryly, “Considering that you own a sweater that cost a thousand dollars because it was made from rare yak wool, I wasn’t too worried about the competition,” Tony snapped his gum consideringly, and that would have been that. Except that Peggy had heard the words “best sweater” and her eyes had narrowed.

So it might have been more accurate to say that, as with so many things, perhaps the trouble would never have started if Peggy could pass up a challenge.

Despite his best efforts not to think about it at all, Steve had spent every visit with Peggy wondering if it would be their last. So he could be forgiven for staring, stunned, for several minutes when she walked into the office he kept at the Tower looking exactly as he remembered her during the war.

“I know that I told you recently that you were always dramatic,” she said, amused, “but you needn’t have taken it as an order.” Then, seeing the way that he leaned back against his desk, his breath catching, she came over and placed a soft hand on his arm.

“It’s alright,” she said, and without making him ask, told him the whole story.

That Peggy wasn’t truly mentally competent at the time to have made the decision to enter the Stark Industries reverse aging trial was something that he would later take up with Tony. Just because she had signed up for it a decade earlier, it didn’t make it alright to go ahead once her cognitive decline had begun. But even as he had marshalled his reasoning for why it was inappropriate, almost unacceptable, he knew that he was, deep down, too illicitly glad to argue well. That Peggy was one of very few candidates to come through at all and the only one to have such a perfect outcome didn’t surprise him exactly (he had known from the first day he’d seen her that she was made of sterner stuff), but it did make him feel luckier.

They ended up talking on the cramped couch in the corner of his office for hours. He had Tony around to occasionally bring up incidents carefully mummified by Howard, or passed down by his Aunt Peggy, but to truly talk to Peggy herself about these things, to have his own memories reflected back by that familiar, consistent sharpness, felt like nearly too much.

When sunset and twilight had long since passed, he finally mentioned, “There’s food downstairs.” She gave him a knowing, fond look that he translated so easily that he wondered if he would cry. “Well, sure, there’s food here too, but it’s not as good.”

“It can’t be worse than what you used to have around,” she said. That was true; keeping extra rations might have been necessary to support his accelerated metabolism, but the serum was certainly the only reason he hadn’t gotten a medical discharge from eating too much of Hitler's secret weapon. But instead of standing to go searching with him, she yawned and reached for the soft handmade afghan he kept on the back of the sofa. “Though I think I might need a bit of a rest before we go scavenging.”

She spread the blanket over herself (“This is nice. I assume that you still consider yourself the superior at knitting?” “That makes it sound like an opinion.”), and a little corner over him, and fell asleep leaning on his shoulder. He stared straight ahead and thought about how she had lived a whole life, that she had had a husband who wasn’t him, raised children, that she’d built SHIELD and run it admirably for decades. It was ridiculous to think that she would even consider a romantic relationship with a barely employed ex-SHIELD contractor who she had kissed once seventy years ago, and it would only make things awkward to ask. He had Peggy, miraculously back with him, and that was all he needed.

That Christmas Eve, Natasha glanced at the presents under the tree and stopped halfway through her second piece of the chocolate gingerbread cake with which Thor had cheerfully presented everyone. (“Bakery,” Darcy had mouthed from behind him, then, giving up pretense, said, “Do you really think I’d let either of them use a mixer? Jane hasn’t made unburned toast in the entire time I’ve known her. Neither of them could pull off something this good.”)

“Smart of you to avoid tomorrow morning,” Nat said quietly to Sam as he got his bag together to head down to spend Christmas Day at his grandmother’s big house in Maryland.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll know,” she told him, and swallowed the last of her cake. (You never knew the next time you’d get cake.)

But Sam didn’t know, not yet. Because when Tony opened his presents the next day, the gray-violet hooded Aran pullover he received from Steve got only the expected compliments. Steve had given handmade gifts to nearly everyone (a painting for Pepper to hang in the empty space in the guest bedroom that always bothered her, a pair of new throwing knives that he and Thor had worked on together for Natasha) and they had known about the sweater for months. Even when Tony opened his package from Peggy to find a cable knit sweater in navy and light blue with large buttons, it was seen simply as another lovely gift and the overlap chalked up to coincidence or some obscure 1940s tradition.

Only Natasha saw the narrow-eyed glance Steve gave Peggy, and the small, decisive nod.

Even for Nat, it was difficult to tell that anything had changed over the next few months. Steve and Peggy laughed and sparred with each other, recounted old war stories to everyone in the jet or around the Tower, bent their heads together as they planned operations, and noticeably did not knit in public. It was only in May, after their first week of consistently warm weather, that the sound of raised voices drew everyone to the glass-fronted office which Peggy had claimed as her own, where they found Steve saying through clenched teeth, “It was rigged!”

“In what way,” Peggy asked him politely, “do you think I could influence Tony’s wardrobe choices?”

“He wore yours more because he’s scared of you and he knows that you notice everything.”

Peggy turned toward the doorway. “Tony, are you afraid of me?”

“Course I am,” Tony told her promptly. “I used to tell kids on the playground not to mess with me or I’d call my aunt Peg.”

“Flattering as that is, it has no bearing on the question at hand.” She turned back to Steve, her fingertips pressing gently but deliberately into the desktop as she leaned forward. “It’s clear to me, given that my sweater was worn on six more occasions than yours, that Tony considered mine to be more attractive, more comfortable, and of better quality.”

“That doesn’t—” Steve started, but Bruce cut him off.

“Can someone explain what the hell is going on here?” He looked between the two of them. “Are you two really having the first fight I’ve ever seen from you over sweaters?”

Peggy and Steve glanced at each other, then turned toward Bruce with mutually crossed arms. “Sweaters,” Peggy said dangerously, “are very important.”

It hadn’t been the plan for Steve to go on the mission at all. Marcus Harrington - Harry - a more experienced SSR field agent who Peggy had worked with before, had been tapped to join her again. But then Harry had broken a leg during a foot chase, Steve happened to be in London for three days of leave while the Commandos rested up between assignments, and the operation simply couldn’t wait.

Steve and Peggy had rescued the captive SSR operative fairly easily - he was still being dragged by a small group of soldiers through the woods back toward an established Nazi base when they found him - but returning him to where he needed to be proved more difficult. Finland was never exactly hot, but they had picked a particularly terrible week to be outdoors. Steve would often sit with his broad back facing into the cutting breeze in an attempt to act as a windbreak. But finally they managed to get him to the safehouse, enduring with embarrassment the effusive thanks of the two sisters and multiple Resistance friends already there.

“Let us give you something to thank you!” someone said, and Steve and Peggy accepted, hoping that this could serve as an appropriate endpoint to the conversation in the way that their protestations that it really was only their job had not.

Food supplies being what they were, it took a bit of time to find something deemed suitable as a gift. Finally a skein of cream yarn and a pair of knitting needles were handed to them, a final round of thanks was exchanged, and Steve and Peggy set back on their way to their pickup point.

The driving snow that cut them off miles from where they were meant to be was a problem. The small and broken shed they found to shelter in was an absolute miracle. Except that, after several hours of forgetting propriety - Steve leaning toward Peggy, or she leaning toward him, to share his warmth - and then abruptly remembering it again, they were both absolutely, incredibly bored.

Steve hadn’t remembered the yarn, exactly, but when he encountered it after sticking a hand in his pocket, it was a relief.

“I can show you a couple of stitches,” he offered Peggy idly, and she looked at him and asked, “What makes you think that I don’t know your ‘couple of stitches,’ and more than you do besides?”

“You’re already a codebreaker and a crack shot,” Steve pointed out. “Where would you find the time to learn to knit too?”

As she soon showed him, she made the time. But Steve, who had gained his own skills during long winters (and autumns, and summers) in bed, guided by the few knitting books available from the public library, was for once determined to hold his own. In anything else he accepted Peggy’s superiority as a matter of course, but in this he refused to yield.

When the pilot asked how they had passed the time waiting for the storm to clear, they both answered, without looking at each other, “Talked.” But a personal battle had been declared, and neither party was willing to back down.

Although Tony congratulated them on their attempt at experimental design, he had to admit that “proximity to hand as he reached into closet” was too significant a factor in his getting dressed to have made it a fair competition between them. New parameters would have to be set.

“Your criteria were a problem. Best sweater is too broad and too subjective, and you didn’t take weather or occasion into account,” Pepper told them. “The sweater you want to wear for a cozy day in the house isn’t necessarily the sweater you want to wear shoveling the driveway, or to work, and it’s practically impossible to make a sweater that fits all of those needs.”

It became quickly apparent that there were too many facets to consider. Half the room was stewing in stumped silence, while the other half talked over each other with suggestions. Finally it was Clint, who had walked in midway through the argument, who said through the slice of pizza he’d crammed into his mouth, “Ugliest.”

The new competition now took shape. The guidelines would not be which was the most attractive or most comfortable, which showed the most advanced technique or held up best in the wash, but instead who could make the ugliest sweater.

“It has to be wearable,” Natasha ticked off. “And the deadline is this Christmas morning.”

Those were the only rules.

That Peggy and Steve retreat to opposite corners and refuse to speak for the six months of competition seemed the next logical step. But they had been happily at war with each other for six months already, and saw no need to let the renewal of hostilities interfere with their relationship now.

If anything, they grew closer. Now that Steve had no reason to base himself out of DC, he had decided to find himself another, less depressing New York apartment, and masochistically asked if Peggy would like to be his roommate. (If he could see Peggy fixing the garbage disposal, or accusing him of eating all of her favorite breakfast cereal, or with disheveled hair finding something to watch on TV, he swore to himself that now it would be enough.) Peggy recognized with some sadness that after nearly dying, acclimating to all the losses of an entirely new century, and spending time with her elderly self, Steve was too battered for a relationship and certainly could not view her in a romantic light. She was also past ready to move out of the Tower. She accepted.

They were good roommates. Their parents would have been scandalized. A schedule was devised for making sure the bathroom was kept clean, and they agreed that if one was making food, they would always make enough for both of them. (This quickly turned into a promise to order in enough for both of them, as their stove remained mostly unused.) Peggy snuck a pair of nicely fitted jeans into Steve’s wardrobe. He bought her a gun safe that matched the red accents of her cream-painted bedroom. They mutually agreed to cancel the History Channel on their television package, but found themselves sharing the sofa often at the end of the day, flipping through the options and bickering over what self-indulgent program to choose.

And in the evenings, they would part, each to their separate bedroom to work on their creations.

Darcy passed Peggy’s office one afternoon when Steve was away and poked her head inside. “If you’re in the apartment anyway, why don’t you just, like, burn his yarn supply? Or at least sneak a peek at what he’s working on?” she asked.

“Well, that would hardly be sporting,” said Peggy, letting the screen scroll through some documents in front of her as her hands kept up her stitching. “And it’s certainly unnecessary. I will beat him, as always, through pure talent.”

Steve was equally confident. “You don’t spend a few years making your own clothes by taking apart charity castoffs and not gain some useful skills,” he told Sam as they headed back on another flight, this one commercial, following a lead in one of the HYDRA files. His needles clicked as he spoke; somehow Steve was never questioned about them at security.

“Considering what you’re competing for, I don’t know if those skills are something to brag about,” Sam commented, and Steve shut up and stewed.

Though the cordiality - which was by this point their hallmark - remained through their shared Thanksgiving and into the beginning of December, there were some cracks starting to show. They shared an open glare during a conversation about strategy which certainly did not merit such anger, and their training sessions in the Avengers gym, which typically had a graceful, mythic quality, were taking on a vicious angle. Yet somehow, even as they shopped for gifts and put on their finishing touches, their time together at the end of the day remained sacrosanct. Neither was willing to give it up. The possibility was never even mentioned.

Sam arranged to do Christmas Eve in the city and then leave again for Christmas itself with his family. As he put it, he was too smart to keep himself in the line of fire.

“It’s like my mother always said,” he told Pepper as they all stood around the Tower drinking eggnog and pretending not to look with trepidation at the gifts beneath the tree. “‘It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye,’ and I plan to get to New Years with the same two I was born with.”

The point was astute. Most of the fun to the competition had slowly worn away, and it somehow seemed to be standing in for proof of something more serious yet unnamed. Still, everyone opened their gifts on the next morning with passable glee, poking at new gadgets and passing thanks around.

No one got further knitwear, which helped.

Finally, the two packages were brought forward. Peggy and Steve took politeness to another level, each insisting that the other go first for so long that - after Tony realized he didn’t exactly carry change - Darcy took out a quarter and flipped it.

The pride Steve had in his creation was understandable. He had clearly been exploring fashions of the 1980s at some point recently, which were recreated in the shape of the...garment (calling it a sweater seemed dangerous and insulting). The shoulders of it were so enormously padded as to be nearly square, and the base color - a vivid and horrible metallic red, with accompanying sequins - was easy to imagine tossed by the skein into the bargain bin. The stripes of silver and green glittery fur yarn gave the entire thing the impression of either a tinsel-covered candy cane or some of the more disturbing types of mold. But it was in the notions department that Steve had truly outdone himself, choosing beads in the shapes of Christmas bells, buttons molded to look like holly berries and leaves, and bows in all sizes, colors, and textures to spangle across his creation without pattern or logic.

There was a moment of silence as he unveiled it. The true hideousness of it needed to be mourned upon sight.

“Okay, maybe it is a real contest,” Tony said, a little awed. He dared only look at Peggy from the corner of his eye; he had enough memories of her steaming when she had been upset with his father, and he didn’t need new ones.

But Peggy, when she brought her own box forward, was calm. If Steve had gone for the more traditional route of unattractiveness through overwhelming the eye, Peggy had decided on a subtler, more simple strategy. The sweater in itself had something of an ersatz quality to it - it was made too wide, so that it somewhat resembled a poncho or a sweater cape, and the snowflakes decorating the hem were lopsided and angular - but it was as the eye drew upward that the true knockout came.

Jane, who was a little tipsy, began to giggle. So did Pepper, who wasn’t.

“Oh,” said Bruce. “Oh, wow. Oh no.”

And he might have summed it up the best. For what Peggy had attached to the front of her entry were two mock reindeer faces: plush, tan appendages stuffed presumably with batting, little red noses on the ends and antlers above the tops. She had even included tiny stitched smiles on the lower curves, and sewn on button eyes.

They were placed directly on the chest so as to mimic two nude, decorated breasts.

“Comment cards can be found on the table for easy tallying,” she said generously.

For a moment nobody moved, struck not by an enemy but by the terrible, impossible choice before them. Then, into the silence, Natasha said, “There’s something else under the tree.”

And she reached for a final time beneath the tree, pulling something from the hidden back branches. She set the box in her lap, and slowly lifted the lid...

As they walked home, Steve kept glancing at Peggy when they passed under streetlights. He was enchanted by the color the cold was bringing to her face, a blush in her cheeks and a rosy tip to her nose.

“I had no idea that Father Christmas could be so frightening,” she was saying, and he forced himself back into the conversation and agreed.

“It was bad even with those little lights in his eyes off, but when she turned them on...” He gave a shudder.

Seeing the third, and most disturbing, take on the contest prompt, a draw had been declared, and the afternoon had progressed with food, classic Christmas movies, and the traditional British crackers which Jarvis had ordered specially for Peggy. Only when it had darkened did everyone begin to drift out, including Peggy and Steve, getting a chance to speak on their own for the first time since the morning.

“We both put up a good fight,” Steve said as they reached their block. “Truce?” He put out his hand. Peggy took it and shook easily.

“It really was marvelous fun, and you were a worthy competitor.” They took a moment to wave to their neighbor, Mr. Travellini, as he put his cat out. “I’m only sorry that I was so caught up in the whole affair that I neglected to get you a gift.”

Steve was already shaking his head. “Not like I got one for you, either. And besides, I have all the gifts I need.”

She had climbed one step to their building before she had turned back to look at him. In the warm beam of the streetlights as snow began to drift down around them, his scarf draped indifferently around his neck and his eyes glowed up at her, just like the boy she remembered.

Oh, she thought, as she always had when faced with that gaze. Oh, my.

She wondered if he had become better at hiding the look, or if she had just been too caught up in her own logic, her own assumptions, to see it.

“Steve,” she asked, placing a careful hand on his shoulder. “Steve, are you ever going to kiss me?”

His mouth parted just a bit, an amazed kind of confusion on his face. “I thought—” He swallowed. “I thought you wouldn’t want me to.”

“Well,” she said practically, “I absolutely do. And you’ve just said that you owe me a gift.” With her on the step, they were of a height. All it would take was the tiniest lean forward...

Steve might have been more practiced at knitting than he was at kissing, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give a perfectly lovely present.

[alleiradayne]

Part I - Lesson Learned

Characters: Jared Padalecki, Me, Clif Kosterman Warnings: None, only fluff and mild angst here Word Count: 3,108 A/N: Assume all parties are single and absolutely no spouse hate!

In another minute, I’d have gone to bed.

In five minutes, I’d have passed out.

And in the morning, I’d have seen the post on Instagram and been pissed at myself all over again. 2016 might have repeated itself had I not learned my lesson the hard way that year.

Instead I sat in the chair at the desk of my hotel room, phone in hand, and flipped through every social media platform I had. I searched tags and pictures and an endless stream of fan accounts until I found that for which I willingly sacrificed sleep.

#spnfamily @jarpad Jared and me @ Sneaky Pete’s!

“Ugh, Sneaky Pete’s?! Really?!”

If you can’t tell, I’m not fond of that bar. Every time I’ve been there, someone starts a fight. Something about alcohol and open stripper poles enraging people.

But Jared was there. Though I desperately needed sleep, I wanted to meet him outside of the con. Just once. Just to get that sort of selfie with him. You know, blurry, half-drunk, overexposed, and hair in my face with his perfection right next to my hot mess. That selfie.

The handle of the hotel door clicked before I realized I’d left my chair, tossed on my N7 hoodie, and shut off the lights.

“What am I doing?”

Silly question. I knew exactly what I was doing. Stalking a celebrity. Yup. Real healthy. I know. An endless tirade of chastising thoughts raced through my mind as I walked down the hallway to the elevator. An eternity passed while I waited, and twice I nearly turned back for my room. But when the bell sounded and a door opened, I darted in and smashed the button for the main floor.

In the lobby, I rushed to a side door and avoided any eye contact. If I had looked at anyone, they would know what I was up to. They would know I was leaving my hotel to go to a bar because a celebrity I wanted to meet was there and that I had stalked him on social media. They would know the second they looked at me, with my red cheeks and wide eyes. Yeah, she’s on a mission. A creepy fanatic’s mission.

The cold November air hit my face with such force, it sucked the breath from my lungs. Again, so lost in thought, I’d lost track of myself. It happens from time to time. I get so caught up in my brain, I forget where I am. Usually it's because I’m planning out another piece of writing, whether it’s my novel or fanfiction. Better not think about that too much or your dumbass will end up telling him about it. If you’re even lucky enough to meet him…

I scoffed loud enough to scare a dog and their human as I passed. Should have taken a Lyft. But nope. I had not plan that far ahead. Too impulsive. And by the time I got to the bar my feet screamed for relief, not because of the long walk, but because I’d been on them all day. Saturday at a Supernatural convention is long. The Saturday Night Special had been entirely worth it though. I’d never look at Rob Benedict the same way ever again.

At the door, I handed the guy taking cover a ten-dollar bill, and I barely heard him over the music as he asked for my wrist to stamp. Not that I paid him much attention either. I had a mission. Unfortunately, Minneapolis complicated finding a 6’4” brown-haired, broad-shouldered guy. Loads of men fit that bill there, what with the plentiful Scandinavian population.

Through the entry, I scanned the crowd as I headed to the bar on my right. To my left, stripper poles stood in a line on their platforms, every single one packed with far too many people. Though I laughed at the idea of Jared on a stripper pole in a packed bar, I knew better. He might be silly, but he sure as hell wasn’t dumb enough to do that in public.

With the bar three people deep, I forced my way to the front, a few well-placed elbows and crushed toes parting the throng. The bartender, a harried woman who tried to put on her best smile, took my order, ran off for a glass and the bottle of scotch, and poured my drink. I avoided eye contact again as two men—boys, really, they looked barely old enough to be in the place—on my right tried to get my attention with terrible pickup lines that involved my drink. Not that I could hear them. Bass deep enough to shake the building thumped terrible party music accompanied by terrible lighting and shitty vocals.

Did I mention I hate Sneaky Pete’s?

I emerged from the crowded bar and headed for the stairs, still scanning for a set of shoulders above the sea of heads. When I saw nothing of note, I took the stairs to the speakeasy basement to find it nearly dead.

Nearly.

A few booths sat occupied, couples and smaller groups that wanted to escape the insanity of the main level, music muted to a dull roar. An older man sat by himself sipping a drink at the end if the bar nearest me. And the bartender—a woman about my age—talked with him. She’d get an extra tip with that sort of attention.

With a sigh, I turned back for the stairs, but something out of the corner of my eye stopped me. I looked over my shoulder, then turned back around as I spotted them. At the far end of the bar sat two people, one with long brown hair, and the other bald.

You know, leading up to that point, I never thought it would happen. From the second I’d left my hotel room, I imagined getting to the bar, getting a drink, sipping it down as I walked through the place once, maybe twice, then leaving.

But there at the bottom of the stairs I stared, dead-eyed, at Jared Padalecki.

At the back of his head.

Close enough.

My feet refused to move, though I desperately wanted them to. There were a great many things I wanted to do. But for the life of me, in that first moment, I balked. And it wouldn't be the last time. I damn near ran back up the stairs and out the front door.

But then Clif nudged Jared and pointed my way. He turned and spotted me, and Christ, I'll never forget that smile or his awkward wave. I'll never understand what about him then had managed to ease my nerves, but he had, and one foot stepped in front of the other until I passed him.

“Hey, Cliffy.”

Jared cackled as Clif leaned from his stool and hugged me. “She clearly knows the rules.”

“Get in good with the body guard, right?” I said as we parted. When I turned to Jared, I managed to keep my shit together as he hugged me in turn. “Nice to meet you. Again.”

Parted, he asked, “Were you here last year? What’s your name?” He motioned to the stool Clif had vacated.

By the end of this, you’re going to hate me. I hesitated yet again before taking a seat. “Jeanna,” I replied as I sat down. “And yes, I was here last year with my sister. We bought the very last J2 op Friday morning.”

“Well, then it was meant to be,” Jared teased. “Is that Jeanna with a G or a J?”

A long pull from my drink eased my nerves. That he even thought to ask that question set my heart racing “A J. We were J4 in that photo op. My sister is Jessica.”

“J4, I love it,” he said with a laugh. “So, how was the Special?”

“Rob kissed me,” I blurted.

Jared rolled his eyes, not missing a beat. “Rob can be a cheeky fucker sometimes,” he said. “How did he manage that?”

“They set up a sort of ‘pit’ area in the big aisles on both sides of the theater,” I said as I air-quoted. “A new friend and I stood the whole show. I got some amazing pictures.”

“You’ll have to show me after you get them cleaned up,” Jared insisted. “Twitter?”

“I’d love to…” I started as I looked around the bar. The conversation had started so well and had continued so easily, buy my confidence slipped. It was too good to be true. I had missed something, a sign or a phrase. Clif would escort me away any second. “I’m sorry, I should probably leave you alone. I don’t want to take up your personal time. You’ll be up to your eyeballs in fans tomorrow, and I’ll see you plenty then anyway—”

Before I slipped from my stool, Jared reached out with an unsteady hand but stopped short of touching me. “You don’t have to. You’re not bothering me. Not like there’s a million people trying to get my attention.”

I eased back onto the stool as I thought. I had imagined meeting Jared in public on occasion. But that simple fantasy usually consisted of a short greeting, getting that selfie, and then being on my way. Never in a million years would I have guessed that I’d have him all to myself for a personal conversation. “Are you sure? I mean, like I said, I’ll see you all day tomorrow. I’m in VIP, I have your solo photo op, I have your meet and greet—”

“You bought all that?” he asked.

“Damn straight I did, I love—”

Yeah, I usually say I love Jared Padalecki. But not to his ridiculously gorgeous face. “I uh… you’re my favorite.”

I’d tell you that Jared blushed when he regarded his beer, sipped from it. But the dimly lit bar masked his face in angular shadows so dark, I’d never know. “It’s okay, Jeanna,” he started. “You’re my favorite, too.”

“Wow. Thanks,” I retorted as I sipped from my drink. “I get it, I made it weird. Don’t rub it in. I’m not exactly… it’s not every day I get meet someone like you.”

Jared laughed through his nose as he spun the bottle of his beer on the bar between his thumb and middle finger. “Not many celebrities in the Twin Cities?”

For a moment, I stared at him, unsure of what to say. When he stared back with his easy smile and perfect hair curled behind his ears, I understood. “You are probably aware of this, but, you’re not just some random celebrity, Jared. You’re… you’re an incredibly important person to me. To a lot of people. Your compassion and empathy for people knows no bounds. You’re so selfless, I don’t know how you do it. I’d be exhausted all the time.”

Jared’s smile fell and I resisted the urge to scream, to take it all back the second the words were out of my mouth. Too late, Jared capitalized on the moment. “I appreciate your honesty,” he commented. His hand moved for my shoulder once more, but as before, he hesitated. “I’m… flattered to have had such a positive impact on people’s lives.”

“Good,” I stated, “you deserve it.”

I could have died a happy woman right then and there as Jared smiled in the wake of my words.

If I told you everything we talked about that evening, you'd have a novel on your hands, and a boring one at that. Sure, we flirted here and there, but I quickly understood that Jared was the type of person who truly meets people. He wants to learn everything he can about them before parting ways, take something profound, new, defining with him when he leaves. I told him about things I never imagined I would have—including my ideal final season for the show, complete with angels, demons, monsters, sex (not with monsters), love, and for once, a real shot at peace. Retirement. On a beach somewhere in Texas with a cooler full of Margie. As much as he liked the idea, he confirmed my suspicions. Sam and Dean’s story does not end on a beach with girlfriends (or angel boyfriends) and a cooler full of Wisconsin's fictional pride.

It was one o’clock before I even thought to check the time. We had talked for two uninterrupted hours. And as much as I wanted to stay, I needed to be back up at seven for my much-anticipated Sunday.

But before I said any sort of goodbye, I grabbed a napkin and my sharpie—always carry a sharpie with you at cons, just in case—and wrote down my number. When I slid it to him, Jared picked it up and squinted at it.

“I didn’t even have to ask,” he joked.

“Oh, gimme a fucking break, dude, you’re swimming in pussy,” I retorted.

With a crooked smile, he shook his head. “Not really. Do you think I do this,” he paused as he gestured between us, “all the time?”

“With that face and your body, I would,” I said. “Not to mention your heart and brilliant brain, too. You make conversation too easy.”

A distinct shade of pink slashed across his nose, distinguishable despite the dark shadows on his face. I waited for another witty retort, but nothing came. He simply stared at me, eyes searching mine with an intensity that rendered me speechless.

I had told Jared things about myself most people in my life did not know. And as I sat there, staring at him, I realized that Jared understood that. When he hesitated to touch me for a third time, I spoke. “Are you… scared?”

“Maybe a little,” he mused. “I can promise you, this isn’t something I normally do. Spending this much time with a fan… never struck me as a good idea.”

“And now that you have?” I asked.

Finally, his hand enveloped mine where it sat on the bar. “I'll say this. You’re a natural at meeting celebrities. You played it cool even though you were nervous. You talked to me like I was just… another person. And that’s incredibly refreshing.”

“You make it sound like most fans are cra—”

He shook his head, vehement in his disagreement. “No. You’re not. Ya’ll are amazing and generous and so full of love. I would never disparage any of you. Most engagements with fans, either at a con or out in the wild, are short or in a… sort of controlled or contained system. It’s kind of sterile. It sounds ridiculous when I put words to it, but there’s little margin for error and that’s intentional.”

“So, you’re saying it’s almost scientifically curated to go well,” I offered.

“Almost is the key word. There’s a reason Cliffy follows us everywhere,” Jared added with a coy smirk. “But more often than not, what we need is someone to take care of a crying fan because, if Jensen and I or any of the other cast had to handle that on our own every time it happened, we’d lose our minds.”

I recalled the first time I had met anyone from the show. “I thought I was going to throw up after I met Misha a couple years ago.”

Jared laughed his dorky cackle as he said, “Misha gets that reaction a lot.”

“He was all hands…”

“Oh, I am so sorry.”

“No, it was wonderful.”

Again, Jared cackled as if I’d said some sort of perverted innuendo. With his hand still on mine, he took it from the bar and held it. “See, that right there, that's... oh, how gross, I don’t want to say you’re ‘different’ and make this fucking weird. But… I don’t know, I’m not explaining myself very well.”

“I won’t let it go to my head,” I started, “But I think I get it. This’ll sound weird, too, and it might creep you out, but I’ve always imagined my personality was very similar to yours. I’ve always imagined that, at the very least, were we to have worked together on a set, we would have become really good friends.”

“You’re not wrong,” Jared started, “And it’s not weird. We could be friends.”

I tried. I wanted nothing more than to walk away from that night remembering the perfection of our conversation up to that point. But when disappointment contorted my smile, Jared saw it, and winced. When I started to talk, he spoke over me. “I didn’t mean it like that. We could be friends, sure. But…”

His voice trailed off as he thought, eyes listing to the bar. “But?” I asked.

“But I’m guessing at this point you were hoping for more than that.”

What constituted as “more”? Best friends? Friends with benefits? Long-distance lovers? “Look, I gave you my number as a hail mary.”

“What?”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, I couldn’t resist the joke. “It’s a sports term. Like, slam dunk or…”

He grinned as he said, “Ball handler?”

I never thought I’d ever hear my laugh mixed solely with Jared’s. But laugh we did, singing a song I wanted to play it on repeat forever. I had to drop another joke to hear it again, to commit it to memory. With my pithy line readied, I sucked in a breath between laughs and spoke.

Not a single word made it past my lips, for Jared’s landed on mine with such sudden insistence, I froze. His massive hand warmed my cheek, fingers slipping into my hair, and he pressed harder, as if to remind me of what he had done. It worked, but not how either of us had wanted.

I promise, I’ll make up for how ridiculously I behaved here. When I squirmed away from him, I hated myself. I ended the kiss as quickly as it had started, slipped from his arms and off the barstool to race to the stairs. He didn’t follow me. And I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to see the dejection on his face that I knew was there.

I was up the stairs and through the front door in seconds. I wasted no time heading straight back to my hotel, oblivious to the chilly November drizzle. Incessant ridicule ran through my head, berating myself for being rude, for being a bitch, for being just downright mean. And for passing up on spending a night with someone I knew that, without a doubt, would treat me with nothing but respect.

How fitting then that, when my phone rang, I answered it without thinking.

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[sparrowjaywrites]

In My Head

(Soulmate AU: You hear your soulmates thoughts but can’t tell them your name or what you look like.)

(OFC X Cisco Ramon)

           I’d heard him since my twelfth birthday, my soulmate. People could begin to hear them at any point in their lives as long as both soulmates where over the age of five. No one really understood how it worked or why some people started hearing soulmates on their fifth birthday and some didn’t hear them until they were in their nineties. The only thing anyone knew for sure outside the age requirements is if one could hear their soulmate, their soulmate could hear them. Oh and of course there where the rules.

           Soulmates rules where considered to be as real and unbreakable as the laws of physics, or as unbreakable as they had been before Meta Humans had started running around. Rule One: One could not tell their soulmates their name. Rule Two: One could not tell their soulmate their age. Rule Three: One could not describe themselves to their soulmate. Rule Four: One could not tell their soulmate their location (Discussing future locations could work but no dates or times). Rule Five: One could not block out their soulmate.

           The rules where not the only things making finding ones soulmate hard; people could of course fall in love with people who weren’t their soulmate whether they could hear them or not. It wasn’t uncommon for people to wake up one day able to hear their soulmates only to find their soulmates where happily married and soulmate or not they were not willing to leave their marriage or their kids. Many people who ended on the unhappy side of these situations would end up taking their own lives within the year. This had prompted the invention of a device that could severe a soulmate connection; this severance could end very badly and had been banned in most countries, but some desperate people still found a way when needed.

           Kat had begun hearing her soulmate at twelve; she’d nicknamed him Westley after learning his obsession with the movie Princess Bride. In response he’d tried to nickname her Buttercup, that hadn’t ended well. After a few weeks of arguing he’d come up with the nickname Starlight, he would never tell her why.

           Westley was an interesting guy, way too smart for his own good sometimes, hilarious, obsessed with pop culture, sassy as all hell, and very good at reading people, even when they were simply a voice in his head. His favorite color is purple although that does tend to change weekly, his favorite Pokémon is Bulbasaur, and he really likes superheroes.

           Kat had decided not long after meeting him in her head the first time that she would find him someday. Of course the particle accelerator blowing up had put a damper on that for a while. When ones soulmate died the other wouldn’t know it, they would simply stop responding to you.

           When the particle accelerator had blown up, Kat had been thrown through a window by the dark matter blast, her injuries resulting in a yearlong coma. When she had woken up it had taken a few weeks for the connection to reactivate and Westley had flipped out. He’d thought she had died. Kat hadn’t told him why she had been in a coma for so long not wanting him to know she was a Meta human, scared of what he’d think.

           She’d woken up a Meta human nearly five years ago now, and had yet to meet Westley in person. He’d dated on and off during that time, hesitantly but excitedly telling her about his current relationship as he always had in high school. Kat had also dated of course but not as recently. At nearly thirty she just wanted to meet Westley in real life, she had fallen in love with him years ago, although she’d never tell him that. He was her closest friend, for obvious reasons.

           ‘Morning, Starlight, what are you up too today?’ Kat smiles shaking her head as she slips a strand of brown hair behind her ear.

           ‘Coffee at the shop, while I work on my book.’ She responds sipping her medium flash with vanilla bean creamer.

           ‘I’m getting coffee right now, maybe this is the day we’ll meet?’ Westley responds excitedly.

           ‘Of course, you’ll trip and spill coffee on me like in all the cliché fanfictions your always telling me to read on Tumblr.’ Kat snickers.

           ‘What makes you think I’ll be the one spilling the coffee? Who says it wouldn’t be the other way around?”

           ‘Because for one, I’m sitting down, and two even if I was walking I’m more coordinated then you.’

           ‘Are not! You trip over everything!’

           ‘Exactly and your still a bigger klutz, that’s my point.’

           ‘Well I never.’ He huffs mockingly laughing lightly. Kat snickers smiling at the laugh. The day passed as usual she spent her morning at Jitters working on her book interrupted every twenty minutes or so by Westley making a joke or asking her something. Her afternoon was spent working on tech for her company, Sparrow Technologies.

           ‘I just looked at the sky and thought of you, my Starlight.’ Kat lets out a small snort at the pickup line she’d heard a million times before.

           ‘I like the line and all Westley, but you need new ones.’

           ‘As you wish.’ Kat lets out another laugh causing people to glance at her; she bows her head with a blush.

           ‘Shut up, you’re making people stare at me.’

           ‘Oh am I?’ That mischievous tone is one Kat knows well, and it spells trouble. ‘Hmm maybe I should just look up something to read to you then?’

           ‘Don’t you…’

           ‘Here we go, the five times Luke walked in on Han and Leia and he one time they walked in on him, this will be a most interesting read wouldn’t you say, Starlight?’

           ‘Westley, I swear to god!’ Kat groans her face a bright red as she wishes for the line to move faster or for her obnoxious soulmate to shut the fuck up.

           ‘Luke was bored, he wanted to go for a ride in the Falcon, but Han was not where to be found. Oh well he would just go for his ride and Han would never need to know… as he entered the Falcon he found something a strange, a random black boot sat in the doorway as if thrown there. Shrugging he steps inside more clothing where spread down the hall leading to the cockpit… oh double meaning!’ Westley reads dramatically clearly getting a huge kick out of her annoyance and protests.

           “A large flash to go with vanilla bean creamer please.” Kat orders doing her best to keep a straight face.”

           ‘Luke’s eyes widened as he froze in place, in the captain’s chair was his twin sister, in far less clothing then he’d ever seen before, on top of her was his best friend in a similar state of dress. “Oh, Han, yes!” Luke quickly turned on his heel running for his life wishing he hadn’t seen that!’

           ‘Westley that’s gross, knock it off!’

           ‘It is pretty badly written, I’m sure you could write it better!’ Westley laughs.

           ‘Would you shut up, you damn idi…’ Kat’s train of thought is derailed as a dagger spins past her face lodging in the counter in front of her. It glowed with a golden orange. Kat spins around in time to see a person in a black coat with a hood and mask standing in the doorway as people start screaming around her. The person holds out a black clad hand the dagger spinning from the counter into it.

            Kat takes a step back; she drops her coffee clenching her fist silver sparks crackle around it for half a second before suddenly failing. Why weren’t her powers working?

           ‘Starlight?’ Before she can answer the dagger is spinning towards her, just before it can hit she is tackled to the ground by a dark skinned woman with long black hair.

           “Are you okay?” The woman asks quickly.

           “Y… yeah, I think so.” Kat nods moving to her feet, pulling her gun from her ankle holder as she does, the dagger spins back across the coffee shop into the monstrous Meta’s hand.

           “It’s time for you to die.” The Meta says stalking towards them. Kat drags the woman who saved her to the side as the dagger spins towards them again. She raises her gun.

           “Back off.” The Meta throws the dagger again, Kat opens fire, one bullet bounces off the dagger sending it off course, the Meta quickly dodges the other.

           “Are you a Meta human?” The woman from before asks Kat. “She’s after Meta’s that’s the new Cicada.” Kat blinks at her looking back at the woman firing two more rounds that miss, embedding in the now empty of patrons shop walls.

           “Yes, I am.” Kat admits.

           “Leave them alone.” A vibrating voice joins the madness as a red steak appears in front of them, less than a foot away stood the Flash. Westley would be having a field day right now if he where there, he loved Meta Heroes.

           “Good, I can kill you too.” A purple blur suddenly shows and the next thing Kat knows she is being set down in what looks like a lab of some type. Computer monitors surround her. The woman from the shop quickly rushes over to a computer talking to the Flash through a headpiece. Moments later XS and the Flash are standing in front of her.

           “Are you okay?” Flash asks gently taking her gun from her hands. Kat blinks still processing where she is.

           “Um… I… uh,” Kat runs a hand through the back of her short hair nervously, when did her hands start shaking? “I think so… where am I?”

           “This is Star Labs; we brought you here to get away from Cicada.” The woman speaks up. Kat slowly nods.

           “Okay… why the hell is this Cicada after me in the first place?”

           “She wants all Meta humans dead.” XS explains.

           “How would she even know I’m a Meta? No one and I mean literally no one knew but me before tonight.” Kat protests crossing her arms.

           “The dagger she was using has the power to block powers, it glows when near a Meta human, you probably where just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Flash explains. Kat nods frowning.

           “Then what the hell am I supposed to do?”

           “We’ve gotten most of the Meta’s out of the city and into hiding?” A woman with long brown hair says entering the room followed by a man who Kat was pretty positive was Harrison Wells, which made no sense as he’d been dead for four years, a tall dark skinned man, the DA, Elongated Man, and Vibe… who was another person Kat thought was dead.

           “I can’t just up and disappear.” Kat protests looking around at the super heroes in front of her.

           “Protective custody is your best shot.” The man suggests stepping forwards and showing her his badge, Detective Joseph West, the DA’s husband and the head of the Meta task force at the CCPD, she’d met him once after the particle accelerator had blown up.

           “If this lady is after Meta’s then why haven’t all of you left?” Kat challenges motioning to the Meta heroes.

           “Because we’re trying to stop Cicada and this is out home.” Elongated Man says.

           “Exactly, this is your home. Central City is my home; I’m not going to run away because some new psycho with a thing for leather and hypocrisy wants me dead.”

           “If you don’t go you’ll die. We can’t protect you all the time.” Flash argues.

           “I can protect myself.” Kat shakes her head.

           “Your powers won’t work around Cicada.” The DA speaks up.

           “I wasn’t referring to my powers, and if powers don’t work against them, then I’m on an even playing field as all of you.”

           “We’re not going to be able to convince you are we?” Flash sighs shoulders slumping a bit.

           “Nope.” Flash shares a look with the woman from Jitters and XS two blurs disappearing down the hall, followed by everyone but Detective West. The two stand there awkwardly for a few minutes before the group enters again.

           “I’m Iris, this is Caitlin and Sherloque.” The woman from Jitters introduces herself motioning to the brown haired lady and the Harrison Wells look alike. “That’s Cecille,” She motions to the DA. “And I’m sure you know who the different heroes are?”

           “I do.”

           “What’s your name?” Flash asks.

           “Katrina Sparrow, most people call me Kat.” Kat introduces herself smirking when she sees the Flash’s eyes widen.

           “The CEO and founder of Sparrow Tech?” She nods with a snort.

           “Yup.”

           “Oh…” XS says eyes wide, looking surprised. A few people look at her questioningly; she shakes her head at them with the universal gesture for later.

           “What are your powers?” Detective West asks.

           “Do I have immunity for anything I say here?” Kat clarifies narrowing her eyes at him. “I’m not a criminal but I’d rather not regret this little meeting later?”

           “Of course.” Cecille speaks up, smiling at her.

           “Any of you heard of the vigilante people are calling Starlight?”

           “Yeah.” Iris nods.

           “You’re looking at her.” Kat gestures to herself.

           “But you look nothing like her?” Elongated Man says shocked. Kat snorts. She pushes a few buttons on her watch; thin strands of metal quickly cover her body from her watch, her belt and her glasses. A simple black suit covers her, silver specks shimmering throughout. Metal wraps around her glasses turning them more into a mask. She clenches her fists then opens them, shimmering silver sparks quickly spread over the suit making the effect look like a shimmering night sky full of stars, her hair floats up a bit turning shimmering silver, her brown eyes quickly turning a soft silver. “Whoa…”

           “That’s amazing.” Flash laughs. XS is grinning now looking beyond excited.

           “Okay, that’s cool.” Detective West says pointing at her.

           “That’s wicked.” Vibe laughs grinning; he’d been silent so far looking at her as if trying to figure something out. Kat’s eyes snap to him. She knew why he’d been staring at her now… his voice she recognized it… she’d heard it every day since she was twelve.

           “Well since we know your identity it’s only fair.” Flash shrugs looking at the others who nod. He removes his mask, and holds a hand out to her, his brown hair now free from the rubber. “Barry Allen.” Kat looks at his hand having to drag her eyes away from Vibe. She shakes his hand.

           “Nice to meet you.”

           “This is Nora, Ralph, and Cisco.” Barry motions in order to XS, Elongated Man, and Vibe. Kat looks Vibe over without his glasses, he was cute, Hispanic, with flowing black hair, a kind smile. Kat deactivates her suit, letting her powers subside her hair and eyes quickly changing back to normal.

           “Well, Kat if you won’t leave we’ll have to figure something out.” Barry says smiling at her.

           “You could join team Flash?” Nora speaks up stepping forward smiling hopefully at Barry. “You’d make a great addition!” Kat raises an eyebrow.

           “Nora, a word please?” Iris speaks up. The two step out Barry following.

           “So, Starlight? I see where you get the name.” Cisco approaches Kat as the rest of the group follow Nora seemingly to join the conversation Kat can hear getting heated in the hallway.

           “I had the nickname long before I became a Meta.” Kat eyes him up and down. “But I think you’d figured that out… Westley?” Cisco breaks into a grin.

           “I thought I recognized your voice.”

           “I recognized yours as soon as you spoke.” Kat laughs. “But to be sure.” She holds her hand out to him. Cisco takes her hand hesitantly. A slight jolt shots up Kat’s arm.

           ‘So Westley, my name is Kat… holy shit, it is you!’ Kat thinks to him slowly grinning as she realizes the rules were gone. When a person first made physical contact with their soulmate after their connection was made the rules would break allowing them to talk more freely from then on.

           ‘I can’t believe it’s really you…’ Cisco thinks back grinning just as widely. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Starlight. I’m Francisco Ramon, I’m your soulmate.” Cisco says out load.

           “It’s wonderful to meet you too, Cisco.”

~~~

AN: And that’s the end of Part One? I may do a few more parts?

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Tall Drink of Water

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tall!Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N is tired of towering over men. 

Word Count: 3,581 [Post-Civil War] - One Shot 

-- I wrote Bucky as though he’s made a lot of progress in his recovery, mentally and emotionally. He’s a lot more confident here than my other one-shots and fics. Hope you don’t mind. 

Bucky still hated going out in public. But when the team had an opportunity to extend their time in New York City through the weekend, he stayed out of nostalgia. He missed Brooklyn, especially when he got stuck too long at the compound upstate. However, he could’ve overlooked the sentimentality to his home city if he knew that going to a club was part of the deal.

They’d been in town for an important meeting with various government officials. Most of the Avengers didn’t speak, but it was important for them to attend and show support. Bucky always despised being paraded around like a trophy. For him it felt more like he was the problem child of their twisted family. A lot of the public still hated him for his past.

It was a strange transition from going to press conferences and meetings to a fancy club that had a line outside, stretching to the length of an entire city block.

Tony was like a god at these places. The man never looked more in his element.

Bucky didn’t know what to think when Nat said this was a toned down version of Stark. Apparently, before Pepper, he was even more of a party boy.

Luckily they were in somewhat of a VIP area, giving Bucky the space he needed from a room full of strangers. He held a drink in his hand and looked down at the dancing below. He couldn’t get drunk without the help of Thor’s crazy alien drinks. Bucky just mostly used drinks as a prop to fit in.

The lights in the club were making him tense. The bass of the music was starting to give him a headache. Anything that weakened his situational awareness and observational skills irritated him.

Natasha and Steve had made their way to Bucky and stood on either side of him now. Steve looked just as miserable as he was, but he hid it better from the others. While Bucky had a face of murder, Steve just looked uncomfortable.

Nat, however, could adapt to any situation. Whether she wanted to be here or not, no one would ever be able to tell.

“Did you see that Y/N’s here?” Natasha asked quietly.

Bucky’s body tensed at the name. “That so?” If it was anyone other than Steve and Nat, his feigned boredom would actually be convincing.

Y/N was one of the few agents that Fury had practically raised. Natasha was fond of her even though their age gap kept their training mostly separate. Y/N worked for SHIELD and was one of the few that Fury still trusted after the attack on D.C. Every once in awhile, she would work with the Avengers on certain missions.

Originally, Bucky was shocked when Natasha told him Y/N was trained in espionage, her specialty being seduction. When he first met Y/N, she seemed so innocent and sweet. She introduced himself with the most cheerful smile. He struggled to imagine Y/N using and manipulating her body and charm to take down the enemy. Nat said Y/N could only handle her job if she was a master of compartmentalizing her life, which was why she seemed so normal in her personal life. “She’s visiting some old gal pals of hers.” Nat added with a knowing smirk and pointed below.

Bucky couldn’t help but let a shy smirk slip across his lips. Y/N was easy to spot in the crowd of dancers and drinkers.

Beside her beauty, intelligence, and strength… there was one thing that made Y/N stick out even more: Her statuesque height.

Y/N looked like a supermodel, with legs for days that somehow still moved with the grace of a ballerina and the speed of an olympic track star.

Bucky didn’t get to see her at the Avengers compound all that often, unfortunately. But he always smirked at the sight of Y/N towering over the majority of male agents.

Y/N was just barely shorter than Bucky and Steve. Some days it seemed like she was the exact same height as the two super-soldiers. Whenever she had a conversation with them, it was eye-to-eye.

However, Bucky swore she was always wearing heels when she wasn’t training. They were never the short ones either. The shoes made her stand out even more, putting her well over 6’2 on most days.

Bucky frowned when he took in the scene around Y/N. She was with four of her girl friends. They were all being chatted up by guys…except for Y/N. She seemed to be invisible to them. Bucky couldn’t decide if he felt relief for not having to deal with the jealousy or if he felt bad that the most beautiful woman in the club wasn’t being worshipped for the goddess she was. “Why aren’t any of them talking to her?” Steve asked out loud as if he had been reading Bucky’s mind.

“Have you seen her?” Nat answered.

“Yes. She’s beautiful.” Bucky retorted without thinking. He winced, knowing he just outed himself.

But Nat smirked knowingly. Of course she was already aware of Bucky’s crush. “Easy, tiger.” She purred.

“What did you mean?” Steve brought them back to the original question.

“Y/N’s intimidating.”

“What?” Steve looked at her, genuinely confused by what she was saying. He’d always respected Y/N for the amazing agent she was and the kind friend she’d become to the Avengers. If he had his way, he would already have her recruited to the team full-time.

“Y/N is basically an Amazon. She’s taller than the majority of men. It doesn’t help that along with her height, she’s also drop-dead-gorgeous and brilliant. Men cower at her feet.” Nat took a sip of her drink, amusing mostly herself with her dramatic description.

“Men are idiots.” Steve scoffs at the ridiculousness of it all.

“She looks miserable.” Bucky mumbled.

And she did. Y/N could only handle being ignored for so long. She just wanted to hang out with her friends. It’d been so long since she got to see them and now she’d been exiled from the conversation because her friends were more desirable.

Bucky threw back his drink and started walking to the stairs when he saw Y/N excuse herself and make her way to the bar.

“Think he’s finally making his move?” Steve asked Nat as they watched Bucky move down the stairs, leaving the VIP area.

“He better be.” Nat smirked. This would be her entertainment for the night.

Bucky watched as Y/N strutted to the bar as if she were on a runway. Even with her height, she was rocking thigh high boots with quite the heel. Men watched her with intimidation. Women eyed her long legs with envy. Bucky knew to other people, it would seem like a compliment. But he could only imagine it would be annoying that people only acknowledged her for the genetic makeup she was given. She probably felt like a circus act when crowds gawked at her like that.

Y/N leaned on the bar, waiting patiently for a bartender to notice her.

Bucky watched for a little too long because a slimy older man took advantage of the empty spot beside her at the bar. He had to be 20 years older than her and seemed like the rich man type, trying to lure in young and beautiful women for all the wrong reasons.

Plus, Bucky didn’t appreciate the intrusive way the man’s eyes kept looking Y/N up and down like she was prey.

There was no way Y/N was oblivious to the man’s presence. But she completely ignored him. Bucky decided he wanted to watch the interaction, fully knowing Y/N could kill this man in 50 ways without anyone in the bar ever even seeing. She didn’t need any saving.

“You’re a tall woman.” Out of all the opening lines he could have used, and the man just had to go with that one.

She raised an eyebrow and observed him. “And you’re old.”

He scoffed, but managed to hide any hurt caused from her statement.

“Oh, so were we not just making obvious observations about each other?” Y/N toyed brutally.

He ignored her sass and leaned in closer. “You must be a model, right?”

Y/N looked down at him, using her height to emasculate him. “No.” Her voice was cold and even. If she had a dollar for every time the few brave men that hit on her used that as their pickup line…

“Are you lying? I was just at fashion week and I swear you look so familiar. What agency manages you? Ford? IMG? Elite?”

Bucky smiled when Y/N blatantly rolled her eyes at him.

The bartender finally brought over Y/n’s order, which to Bucky’s amusement was two shots of tequila.

“I told you, I’m not a model.” Y/N could not sound more bored as she sprinkled salt onto her hand.

“Is one of those shots for me, sweetheart?” The guy was unfazed by her blatant disinterest.

Y/N threw one back, not even wincing from the burn. “No,” she responded. Then snatched the second one, drinking it too.

The man was either an idiot or insane, but he leaned even closer and attempted to whisper in Y/N’s ear.

It drove Bucky crazy that he couldn’t hear it. But he assumed from the man’s face that he was saying something disgusting and sexual to her.

Y/N remained composed and raised an eyebrow at the man when he finally pulled away. “Oh, it’s my legs your interested in?” She smirked evilly. “These legs? They’ve killed at least two dozen men. They’re stronger than they look. When I say kill, I don’t mean it as an expression. It’s a move called a flying head scissor takedown. If you do it right, the impact and twisting motion actually breaks the victim’s neck…instantly killing them.” At this point, the man was no longer entertained. His face had gone pale and he finally realized that Y/N’s bored act was actually the calm demeanor of an assassin.

Mumbling something Bucky couldn’t understand, the man escaped into the crowd.

Y/N had the audacity to smile at the reaction. But she knew she had to return to her friends now. Even if she was invisible to the men fighting for their attention, she couldn’t hide forever.

Hips swaying seductively, she took a few steps away from the bar and suddenly spotted Bucky.

“Sergeant Barnes!” The way her face lit up with the warmest smile, it was like she was a completely different person than the woman that just threatened a man’s life.

“When are you going to start calling me Bucky?” He asked.

She slammed her palm to her forehead like an adorable dork. “I’m sorry. I know. You’ve asked me like a million times. I’m sorry, Bucky.”

“It’s fine.” He smiled. “So that was rather entertaining.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and he swore she blushed. “Oh…god, that’s so embarrassing.”

“More like badass and hilarious.” Bucky chuckled. “He got what he deserved. And It was a terrifying reminder not to get on your bad side, doll.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at his nickname.

“It’s nice to see a familiar face. This night is… Well, yeah. Never mind.”

“Not having a good time either?” He offered. She shrugged. “You and me both.”

“I gotta be honest,” Y/N laughed. “I never thought I’d run into you at a place like this.”

Bucky pointed to the VIP section. She instantly recognized Steve and Nat talking to each other and other Avengers or agents. “Trust me. It wasn’t my decision.”

Just as she was about to say something, a group of man passed by Y/N. They rubbed against her side unnecessarily. There was plenty of space to move by without touching her. One had a little too much liquid courage and turned around once he got by. He looked Y/N up and down before whistling.

“Is the WNBA in town?” His friends chuckled before dragging him further into the club.

Y/N rolled her eyes before she glanced at Bucky. But he wasn’t looking back at her. Instead, he was glaring after the man like he was about to murder him.

“Bucky?” She grabbed his attention gently. Her voice made his rage disappear for a brief second. “It’s not worth it. Believe me.”

He realized he was about to lose his time with her. She was trying to return to her friends.

Maybe it was seeing Y/N only getting the worst type of attention from men. Or that she clearly felt a weird mix of being undesirable and a fetish fulfillment. Or maybe it was how beautiful she looked, the few inches she had on him meaning nothing. But Bucky felt a surge of bravery he could never muster before.

“Y/N…Do you want to get out of here?” He asked her with a hopeful glow in his blue eyes. She looked taken aback. “There’s this dive bar not too far away. It’s quiet and dingy. People don’t bother me there.”

Y/N was about to say she wish she could, but she had to go back to her friends. However when she glanced over in their direction, she saw that they were still talking to the same group of guys. Clearly they were interested.

She turned back around to face him. “Actually I would love to get the hell out of here.”

“Do you need to say bye to your friends?” He asked carefully.

“No. They won’t miss me.” She smiled at his thoughtfulness.

Bucky loved seeing Y/N visibly relax when they grabbed two stools at the bar he’d mentioned. There wasn’t a crowd and no one even acknowledged their presence. Classic rock had replaced the heavy bass of EDM music from the club.

For the first time in awhile, Bucky felt like his old self. The charming and flirtatious James Buchanan Barnes was brought out of hiding. It surprise him just as much as Y/N. He’d forgotten how good it felt to genuinely make a woman laugh, especially when it was her.

Neither of them knew how much time had passed. But they had been talking for quite some time and laughing even more. Bucky watched Y/N carefully while she took a sip of her drink.

“Can I ask you a… ugh… delicate question?” He finally had the courage to bring it up now that they’d grown so comfortable.

“Oh god. Please don’t ask how tall I am.” She groaned with a laugh. But the way her body tensed, it was obvious she half expected him to.

“Don’t insult me. I can accurately predict a person’s height and weight within the first 15 seconds of seeing them.” Bucky teased.

“Oh really?” Y/N rolled her eyes. Then she started discretely pointing out random patrons in the bar and Bucky would give his estimates. The game was innocent and hilarious. Eventually Y/N had to stop from laughing so hard.

“Alright. Alright. What were you actually going to ask me though?” She urged.

“You don’t seem to like when people only see your height.” Bucky was treading carefully. “So why do you wear heels every chance you get?”

Y/N gave him a smirk, appreciating how mindful he was being.

She took in a deep breath and wondered where to start.

“When I first started training, I was only 18. They made me wear heels 24/7. If walking, running, and fighting in them wasn’t second nature to me, I never would’ve made it. There’s a reason only women have truly mastered the art of seduction. I take the most feminine things, the things men obsess over in a woman and I use it all against them.”

Now Y/N looked down at her thigh high boots and lifted her right leg slightly. “They make me feel like myself. They’re a part of me.” Then she smiled mischievously. “Plus, it’s a good way to weed out the men who are easily emasculated.”

But the amusement ended when she thought of something else. “Sometimes I just wish my height wasn’t the first and only thing people noticed about me. Doesn’t help with dating either.”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m still struggling to believe that, doll.”

“Come on, Bucky! I know you saw me with my friends tonight. It’s ironic really, my job is to seduce targets. And I’m really fucking good at it. But when I’m in my own life, just being myself… I’m invisible to men.”

“You’ve never been invisible to me.” Bucky wanted to kick himself. It was too much, too son. He probably freaked her out now.

Y/N’s eyes just widened at his confession. But they didn’t look scared. Instead, she looked flattered and her cheeks blushed the prettiest shade of pink he’d ever seen.

“You forget that my best friend used to feel that way too.”

She nodded and smiled timidly. How could she forget about Steve?

“Y/N?” He surprised her with how gentle his voice sounded. “Would-Would you want to do this again some time?”

“Really?” She had a hard time believing that the infamous Bucky Barnes wanted to hang out with her.

He squinted. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

She took in a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“Do I need to explain myself?” Bucky asked blithely.

Y/N giggled a little. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

Bucky took a sip of beer and shook his head at her inability to see the truth. “I’ve kind of been in love with you for awhile, doll. To be more specific, since you beat the crap out of that recruit after he said something rude about me during training.”

Y/N jaw dropped slightly.

He laughed at her reaction and added, “You thought I didn’t see it. But I did.”

For once in her life, Y/N didn’t know what to say to a man.

She knew how to manipulate, tell them what they wanted to hear, get them to do what she wanted. But this was her. This was her real life. And no man had ever surprised her like this before.

Bucky continued. “I just have to say this… because I think you need to hear it.” His blue eyes stared her down and he gripped her hand. “Don’t let any man make you think you’re anything less than beautiful… height and everything. Taller than him or not, if you love him and he loves you, screw what everyone else thinks.”

He paid for their drinks and got up from the stool. “I’m not saying this because I want to take you out on a date. But if you agreed to, I’d probably be the happiest man in the world.” He threw on his leather jacket. “I’m telling you because you should never make yourself smaller for anyone.”

Y/N was stunned into silence. There was no training that could have made her predict such a speech.

But Bucky misinterpreted her quiet shock as a polite refusal.

His streak of courage had ended now.

He looked down at his shoes bashfully. “I…I had a lot of fun with you tonight, Y/N.”

Then he started to walk away, not wanting to force Y/N to deny him verbally.

The sight of Bucky fleeing finally broke Y/N out of her daze. “Bucky, wait!” She jumped up after him. Even with the heeled boots, she caught up with him easily and with utter grace.

“You didn’t even let me give you an answer.” She scolded. His brow furrowed. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

HIs jaw dropped slightly.

“Is it your turn to be surprised now?” Y/N nudged with a grin. “I don’t beat people up for just anyone, Bucky.” She admitted, remembering the day Bucky was referencing. One of the young and overconfident recruits had muttered something about Bucky being a terrorist and a traitor. It was purposefully loud enough for Bucky to hear. But the Winter Soldier was used to those things happening every once in awhile and chose to ignore it. Y/N, however, didn’t take the same higher ground.

“Apparently, the feelings are mutual. And I find it infuriating that your the one man I can’t seem to read. Otherwise I would’ve saved us a lot of time and done this…”

Combing her right hand through his shaggy hair, Y/N brought Bucky’s face to her and crashed her lips against his. Y/N couldn’t deny that she loved not having to dip or tilt her neck to find Bucky’s kiss. They were equals.

Bucky had to overcome his initial shock before his body responded. Was he dreaming? This all seemed too good to be true. But he’d be damned if he didn’t live it up before he woke up.

Bucky gripped her waist and his lips fought for control of the kiss. Y/N didn’t seem to mind his initiative one bit.

Eventually they had to pull away to catch their breath.

“Jesus, doll.” Bucky sighed through a love struck smirk.

“I figured it would take the edge off for the next date.” “I’ll say…” Bucky laughed. But he wasn’t quite done kissing her yet.

So as a tall girl, constantly reading fics where authors emphasize how tiny and short Y/N is gets real old. And after the reception of my past post , I decided to do something about it. 

I was thinking about writing a Steve Rogers x Tall!Reader one too. But we’ll see how this one goes first.  

HERE IT IS: Society Says

[magerightsyeah]

45, 208, and 233 for any of your DA characters (if that’s ok!!) for the writing prompts!

No it’s no problem at all! Btw sorry this took so long I’m a shit writer lol, also i hope you dont mind i only did the first two

45. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”

Elysa was angry. Angrier than she’d been in a long time. Blackwall- Thom, had lied to her. She thought she knew him, he understood her more than anyone else ever did. After everything she’d told him, everything they’d been through, this is how he decides to tell her? By interrupting a fucking execution? Elysa shook her head and tightened her grip on her dagger. She slashed at the dummy sloppily. She wasn’t even training at this point, she was just trying to get him out of her fucking mind. Thom’s trial was later today, and Elysa didn’t know if she was gonna be able to make it through the whole thing.

After about a half an hour of taking out her anger on the dummy, she had regained her composure and felt she was ready for the trial. She took a deep breath and made her way across the Skyhold courtyard to the main hall. By the time she got there, the two guards (whom after countless trials she had found out to be called Joshua and Antony) were already standing next to the throne. Elysa took a deep breath and sat down. Joshua smiled sympathetically at her, but didn’t say anything for the fear of coming off as unprofessional. Before she knew it, Thom was lead in by two guards in chains. Elysa hated to see him like this. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as the guards shoved him forward for her judgement. Elysa looked at the man, standing completely at her mercy, waiting for her to decide his fate. He looked up at her, confusion and sadness in his eyes.

“Why?” he said with a pleading tone. Elysa looked back at him, trying to remain stone faced but letting her eyes soften,

“You really think I’d let you kill yourself?” she raised her voice angrily.

“Yes! I deserve everything that’s coming to me!” Thom exclaimed talking a step closer to her. Joshua and Antony placed their hands on their swords, but a wave of Elysa’s hand signaled them to stand down. The two men relaxed their posture but continued to keep a close eye on Thom.

Elysa closed her eyes tightly to stop the tears from coming, she didn’t know what to say.

Antony placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and Elysa took a deep breath. Elysa thought back to all the times Thom had lied to her, and how much of an idiot she was for believing him. She opened her eyes, taking another deep breath.

Elysa sighed “Thom,” she hesitated, carefully thinking how she was going to phrase her next words “everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy”.

Thom looked at her, his frustration showing on his face. “Please my lady, I am the bad guy”

“No you’re fucking not!” Elysa exclaimed loudly, standing up and causing Thom to take a couple steps back. Elysa swallowed, choking back tears, and sat back down. How could she bring herself to sentence the man she loved to death. Thom looked into her eyes, and Elysa couldn’t help but feel empathy for him.

“My lady, I may have lied about what I was, but I never lied about what I felt,” Thom sighed, taking another step towards the throne, “no matter what happens, I want you to know that”.

Elysa was admitently touched by his words, but she didn’t know if she could still be with him.

“Thom I-” she took a deep breath and adjusted her position on the throne, trying to seem as regal as she could, “I just don’t know if I can still be with you after, everything”.

Thom took a step back, a look of slight disappointment and defeat on his face, “I understand my lady”

“But” Elysa interjected “I won’t let my personal feelings get in the way of your sentence.”. Elysa crossed her legs and placed her hands on the armrests of the inquisition’s throne. “Thom Rainier, I sentence you to atone for your crimes by serving the inquisition, not as the man you were or the warden you pretended to be, but as the man you are”.

Thom bowed and stepped back, “I will try to make good use of your pardon Inquisitor.”

208. “It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” 

It was Kara’s third time at the bar in a week, it was Wednesday. She had been going to Jimmy’s for the last month at least once a week and after she got laid off her job she was looking for an especially strong drink. At this point she had heard every pickup line in the book, even a few not from the book, so when a guy started to make his way towards her she braced herself for the worst, but instead of hitting on her, he sat down next to her, ordered a drink, and started to flirt with the bartender. Although the lighting was fairly dim, even for a shitty bar like Jimmy’s, she could just barely make out his features. He had dark skin and his hair was pulled up into a bun, but it looked pretty good on him. He also had a very prominent mustache.Kara gasped, “Dorian?”, Dorian looked around for the voice until he finally noticed Kara“Kara?” he exclaimed, his eyes widened in disbelief as he started to make out her features, “Kara dear! How’ve you been?” he smiled and took a sip of whatever he ordered,“Oh not much,” Kara shrugged “got laid off at work.”, Dorian frowned sympathetically “Well that’s an absolute travesty!”, Kara rolled her eyes, “I’ll be fine, when you got laid off you got a job at one of the most prominent fashion magazines in Los Angeles”,Dorian laughed, “Well that’s because of my impeccable taste! Which if you don’t mind me saying,” he looked Kara up and down “you don’t exactly have”. “I am well aware of that” Kara snorted doing another shot of Everclear.Dorian looked at her concert “I’ve never understood how you can handle those drinks!”Kara shrugged, “You know us elves”“No I don’t” Dorian chuckled,“Me neither!” Kara giggled. Dorian rolled his eyes, then something behind Kara caught his eye,“Don’t look now but that girl over there is checking you out!” he whispered,Kara’s face flushed red, “What where?”. Dorian grinned and subtly nodded to a table in the far corner of the room. Kara turned her head slightly and looked at the girl out of the corner of her eye. The girl was fairly far away so normally she wouldn’t be able to make out her features, but she was sitting fairly close to a light which illuminated her face. She had large brown eyes and a small nose with freckles making a bridge across her face. Her sandy blonde hair was styled in a ridiculously messy bob. She was laughing uncontrollably with two men, a extremely strong looking qunari man with an eyepatch, and a lumberjack looking guy with black hair accompanied by a large black beard. After about 7 seconds of watching them, the girl looked back over, and noticing Kara staring, winked. Kara nearly choked on her drink and her face flushed red, obviously causing Dorian to burst into a fit of laughter. Kara punched him in the arm, her face still the color of razzberries. The girl smiled, making her way towards Dorian and Kara.She grinned, “What’s a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?”

Kara snorted, “It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.”

The girl broke out into a fit of laughter, “You’re right grand! I think you and I are gonna get along nicely”. Kara blushed, making the girl’s smile widen, “So do ya wanna get outta here? I know a great place on the other side of town, it’s buy the train tracks and has the best burgers in the city”. Kara nodded, grinning, slightly lost in the girl’s brown eyes. The girl chuckled, “I’m Sera by the way”, Kara’s mouth was slightly dry, “K-Kara”

“Alright Kakara, let’s go”, Sera grabbed her bye the hand and lead her out to a motorcycle on the side of the road, barley giving her time to wave goodbye to Dorian. “Now here’s where the real fun begins” Sera grinned.

[minimickzy]

Yeah, Cool || Richie Tozier

Request: Hi can I get a Richie imagine? Kinda based of the song My Kind of Woman by Mac demarco. Where he’s so surprised that no matter what you’ve always stuck by him. No matter how many jokes he masked about you, offensive or perverted, you always know he’s joking. And he’s just in awe cause of how strong you are and YOU choose HIM to stick with through everything. He just utterly adores you and he doesn’t realize you adore him to until he realizes how long you’ve stuck by him. Thanks! Love your blog💛

 +Hi okay so could you do a Richie x Reader where He likes the reader but the losers say that she's to innocent and completely opposite of him but goes for it anyway and him and the reader end up having a happily ever after?

Characters: Reader x Richie Tozier, the losers club 

Word count: 2924

Warning: swearing, mentioned underage drinking, kissing (ew!)

a/n: This is a weird style that I tend to write in, I don't know if y’all are gonna like it so please let me know. this is also extremely long. please let me know what you think! also let me know if you want to be added to any tag lists!

Oh baby, oh man

You're making my crazy, really driving me mad

Summer 1988

From the second Richie saw you he knew you were meant to be. Richie wasn’t one to be sappy but when it came to you his heart melted in his chest and his head spun around with thoughts of you.

You moved to Derry in the summer before junior year. Your mom picked everything up and brought the family to this small shitty town. There was nearly nothing to do here. You’d go on walks looking for something, anything to preoccupy yourself with, but your searches went on and on.

You didn't notice the group of kids that would follow you around every day. The losers club was intrigued by you. They never saw you talk to anyone, you’d just walk around and look at the world around you. They all had the filling that you were one of them. Every few days you’d go to the park and sit against the sand pipe and read a book.

There was a boy who always seemed to be hanging around with binoculars and a little book. He seemed to be birdwatching but you never thought of a boy his age being into such a adult thing.

One day, after a rainy night you decided to sit on the bench instead of the mushy ground. It was a quiet day, near the end of august, a gentle breeze blew your hair against your cheeks as you engulfed your mind in your book.   

You nearly jumped out of your skin when someone sat down at the other side of the bench. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” You saw the bird boy looking at you with a apologetic but slightly annoyed look, after all you were in his spot. “Oh, It's no trouble, sorry for taking your spot, the ground was just… dirty.”

“It's fine.” He turned away from you and to the bird fountain. You went back to reading your book but couldn't help but feel the awkward tension rising in the silence. “I’m (y/n), I just moved here a month ago or something.” You put your hand out for him, He turned back you and gave your hand a tense shake, “I’m Stan. I’ve seen you around alot.” 

“yeah, I’ve just been looking for something to do.” He nodded, “Well, maybe you could come to the Barrens later, its where me and my friends hang out.” You smiled, “yeah, that sounds cool. You're the first person I’ve talked to here.” he laughed, “that's Derry for you. Do you have a bike?” You shook your head. “I guess I can give you a ride on my handlebars.” He started to get up, you stayed sitting not really sure if you should follow until he turned around a few yards away and looked at you expectantly, “coming?” “Oh, yeah! Sorry.” You stood up and rushed to join him.

That's alright with me, it's really no fuss

As long as you're next to me, just the two of us

Spring 1989

Richie had fucked up and he knew that. His trashmouth had gotten both the losers pissed at him and his parents to kick him out. It wasn't on purpose. He didn't tell anyone but he had a run in with Bowers on the way to school. He was to embarrassed to say anything and His blood with boiling from how weak he felt after what had happened. He wasn't sure if the losers had told you what happened, or what you would think of him if they did. Spring was here and Junior year was coming to a end.

He didn't bother to come up with a story to tell, he just walked up to your door and knocked, your parents car wasn't there but the lights were on so he knew you must be home. When you opened the door your eyes widened with shock at the sight in front of you. “Richie..” He looked so broken. His eyes were red and puffy, magnified by his coke bottle glasses. The goofy grin that was nearly always plastered on his face was gone and his body was trembling in the cool night air.

“I really fucked up.” You nodded, “yeah, Stan told me. Listen, I don’t thin-” “They kicked me out.” “what?” “My par-parents, they kicked me out.” He sniffed and you thought your heart may as well have just fallen on the ground in front of him. “Why?” “I said something and my dad, he just-” Richie couldn’t get the rest out, instead breaking down on your poach, his head held in his hands as the tears slipped from his eyes and splashed onto his glasses. You didn't waste any time to hug him. He was shaking. You held him as tight as you could, you whispered soft words into his ear and let him nuzzle his curly hair into you neck.

You're my, my, my, my kind of woman

My, oh my, what a girl

Summer 1989 

It took the loud honk of a horn to knock Richie out of his tance. You laughed as he swore under his breath and pressed his foot down on the gas pedal sending the car forward. Richie had been staring at you, taking the chance as you were looking out the window of his beat up car on the way to pick up Eddie and then meet up with the rest of the losers. A year later and you still didn't have a bike. He didn't know the reason was because then he’d have to give you ride.

Richie and Mike were the only ones with cars, you lived down the street from him and Eddie lived 5 minutes from there and then everyone else lived on the other side of town by Mike who would pick them up in the back of his old pickup he got from his dad.

When Richie pulled up to Eddie’s sidewalk the boy who wasn't much bigger than when you had first met him came beelining out of the front door. He hopped in the back and took a puff of his inhaler, sure enough his mom came out right after and started to yell something but Richie pulled away before you could hear any of it. “What was up her ass Ed’s?” Richie asked, Eddie groaned in return, “She said I had a cold or something because I sneezed, and how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that.”

You laughed lightly and placed your hand on Richies on top the stick shift. His stomach did flips and his brain went just a little fuzzy. You didn't take it away until he parked outside of the movie house where everyone was waiting. Eddie jumped out and then you but Richie didn't move a muscle. “Richie?” you asked leaning down so you could see him, “You coming?” “mhm, I just- need a second.” “are you okay?” “yeah, I'll be right in.” “cool.” “yeah, cool.”

You're my, my, my, my kind of woman

Summer 1988

Stan pulled up to the barrens and let you hope off of his handlebars, there was only another boy and girl there already, sitting on to rocks with there hands interlocked. “Thats Bill and Beverly” he pointed before they saw you. You nodded and your nerves started to get the best of you. What if the only people you talked to in Derry didn't even like you? Stan started walking towards them and they both smiled and waved to him. The girl, Beverly, was the first to notice you, taking a double take and then elbowing Bill who stood up immediately.   

“This is (y/n), I said it was cool if she'd hang with us.” San introduced you as you gave a little nod. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” Bill smiled and stuck a hand out to shake, “you t-too.” You smiled back and shook his hand.

Bill and Beverly told you about the losers club and how they’d been seeing you around town. “We Thou-thought you m-m-meant be one of u-us.” Bill said and you laughed, “A loser?” Beverly shrugged, “It's not too bad.” You nodded, “so who else is in it?” Bills face brightened up again as he started to tell you about each member in the group, “Well the-there's Mike who...

And I'm down on my hands and knees

Begging you please, baby, show me your world

Fall 1988

“What a babe.” Richie fawned over you as you walked away. The rest of the losers laughed or sighed at the pathic doe eyes Richie wore whenever he looked at you.

You were the innocent of the group, Richie was not. Every sentence that he said included swears but one had hardly ever touched your lips. He wore black and punk band tees and you wore pastels and sweaters. He used to call you Betty Cooper when you first started hanging out with the losers as a joke and you’d always call him Jughead in return. You always chuckled at his jokes even if you didn’t get it which was most of the time. It was just the giddiness and rush you got whenever you were around him that really got the laughs going.

“Richie, she’s so out of your league.” Eddie deadpanned patting Him on the back. “And whys that?” Richie asked in a pissy tone. “B-b-because she’s innocent R-Richie, and your N-not.” Bill said, “Yeah, and she's smart and attractive. Two more things you lack.” Stan smirked. Richie huffed and stood up from the rock he had been sitting on. “That's bullshit.” They all looked at him with scartic looks. “I can tone it down.” “yeah right.” Eddie laughed, Richie furrowed his eyebrows and started to walk away.

“I’ll show you fuckers!” He started his way to you house jogging in order to catch up to you, “Hey (y/n)! Wait up!” he yelled down the street causing you to turn towards him. You shot him a sweet smile, “What’s up Richie?” He stopped to catch his breath and rubbed his hands off on his hawaii shirt. “I-I just wanted to ask you something.”  You cocked an eyebrow, “and you couldn't use a phone?”

He shrugged and played with the dirt on the ground with his foot, “What do you think of me?” He was no longer making eye contact with you which you were silently thankful for, “what?” His question had blindsided you. “Like, What do you think of my jokes and how I act or whatever.” “Oh, I think your great- I mean I really like your jokes and you glasses and your hair and and how you sometimes smile with only one side of your mouth and- Your really cool Rich.” You just needed to get yourself to shut up. “So you don’t mind my dirty jokes or swearing?” “No? Why?”

“I just thought they meant be much for you.” You laughed, “You could never be too much for me Tozier” He smiled brightly, “Cool.” “Yeah, cool.”

Oh brother, sweetheart

I'm feeling so tired really falling apart

And it just don't make sense to me

Spring 1989

You told Richie he could stay at your house as long as your parents didn't catch him. You gave him some food and he told you about Bowers, He told you about everything, His cheeks were a dark shade of red, you were the last person he wanted to know. But you understood, you didn't tell him but as soon as he fell asleep you called and told Bev everything and then she told everyone else, they all understood just as you had and Bill was going to talk to Richie at school.

Since the day you met Richie you felt connected with him. You hadn't thought twice about holding him as he cried or playing with his hair when he talked. You weren't going to deny you held a liking towards Richie, There was no question as to if you were head over heels for the boy.

You thought he was too but neither of you ever dared make a move. You told your parents you were sick in the morning and bought yourself a few more hours alone with Richie before you’d both go in for the later half of your classes. You gave him breakfast as soon as your parents left.

He didn't say much. He couldn't believe he had told you everything, the stuff that he even hid from the rest of the losers. As he ate you watched him from across the table eating your own breakfast. You found his leg with your foot under the table. “Richie?” He looked up to you, “yeah?” “Why’d you come to me? Why not Eddie or Stan? Why me?”

His eyes got a little wider and his cheeks burned a soft pink, “I- I guess, I trust you.” You smiled, “Really?” You started to take a sip from your water “yeah. I really do. Your so nice and I really love you.” You choked on your water and some of it sprayed out of your mouth, onto the table as you coughed. “I’m sorry- I just-” Richie said rushing to apologize as soon as he realized what his big mouth had said. “No, Richie- I love you- too- Don't be- sorry-” you said between coughs.

He smiled. “Cool.” You smirked “yeah, cool.”

I really don't know

Why you stick right next to me or wherever I go

Summer 1990 

“Richie this is ridiculous!” you yelled, he jumped back at your outburst. Richie and you had been a thing forever and respected it as dating behind closed doors. You wanted it to be official, you wanted to know you weren't going to lose him. Richie wanted the same thing, but as long as he had you he didn’t want to do anything to fuck that up. But you were fed up so when he met you at the barrens, just the two of you, you jumped right into it.

“What?” you groaned, “you have to let me know what we are, where is this going? I need to know Richie, I have to go to college and you, you have to go somewhere!” He frowned, “I’m going wherever you go.” “what?” he shrugged, “There's nowhere else I want to go.” You looked at him with  melow shock. You thought he just didn't want to commit, you didn't know in his head he already had.

“Oh. So we’re dating?” “That's what I thought, If you don't want me to-” “No! I mean no, that's what I want, If it's what you want!” the tension was high, “What if I want something more!” The two of you yelling a bit softer each time, “Then let's make it something more!” he stepped closer to you, “We’re 18!” you stepped closer to him, “yes!” He took your hands in his, “We could be engaged!” you nodded your head, “yes!” he gave you his goofy grin, “Is that a yes to 18 year olds can be engaged or me asking you to fucking marry me?” “both.” He kissed you sweetly “fuck” You kissed him, “shit.” “that's what I want.” “then that's what you get.” “Cool.” “yeah, cool.”

You're my, my, my, my kind of woman

My, oh my, what a girl

You're my, my, my, my kind of woman

Fall 1989 

The first the two of you kissed was at a party where you both had been a little tipsy. The only reason it didn't go further was Beverly busting in and freaking out. She didn't tell anyone, and neither did you or Richie.

But Richie couldn’t live with just a taste of the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and who he’d been drooling over for more than a year. He tried desperately to get you to kiss him again, but the time was never right. One day Richie Tozier had enough, He was driving you home from a meetup with the losers, the windows were open and the radio blasting. Everyone had went out to Castle Rock for a carnival but the rest of the losers decided to stay after you and Rich left.

You laughed at something he said and when that sweet sound touched his ears he quickly turned off the road and onto the shoulder. “Richie? Whats up?” “I need to kiss you.” he said it so calmly it almost frightened you. “What?” “I’ve liked you since the day you moved here and at the party it was like a dream and I need to kiss you.”

You shrugged, “Okay.” “really?” “yes.” “oh my fuck, I didn't actu- fuck. Okay.” “are you going to or…” He nodded and turned quickly, capturing your lips with his. You couldn't help but smile as you pulled away. He smiled and turned back onto the road. “cool.” You laughed, “yeah, cool.”

And I'm down on my hands and knees

Begging you please, baby, show me your world

Summer 1987

“...Yeah, he g-go-goes on about b-b-being sick but hes st-still cool, and then th-theres R-Richie-” “Thats my name don't wear it out Big Bill.” you heard someone laugh from behind you. You turned to see two boys, one with Red shorts who was smaller and then a tall boy with wild curly black hair, thick glasses and a devilish grin. “He’s Well, Ri-Richie.” Bill shrugged as the boys joined the small circle.

“Whos the babe?” Riche laughed and you chuckled slightly, “I’m (y/n), I’m new around here.” He smirked, “cool.” “Yeah, cool.”

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