#her banners until like february you’ll be alright

[m1d-45]

To pull or not to pull, i have a problem.

I wanna save for the next banners, but im also interested in pulling for raiden. But i also might lose 50/50, giving me an advantage for another character...

-🥘Stew

ooh, this is a tough one

from what i know of the shogun n her kit, she’s a really nice support, but it honestly depends on your team! im a strong supporter of pulling for who you want and not who you “need” in my book because you’re the one playing the character so you should be Enjoying yourself, so it’s ultimately up to you ! whatever you decide i hope you have fun, and remember you have a lot of time to make your decision, plus she’ll always have a re run !

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch46: Just A Formality

Intro: Emmy gets into a spot of trouble at school, which leads the family to make a joint decision that will change their lives forever. And together with their friends they celebrate Jamie’s birthday, will a little surprise for Emmy too. 

Warnings: Bad Language words. Slight angst (teenagers) and Steve being a very overprotective dad…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Yeah, I love this chapter. I hope you all do too. And thank @angrybirdcr​ for the edit...it mushed my insides!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 45

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 February 2021

“So what do you think?” Rhodey asked as he stood, arms folded, looking at the screen. Natasha was stood next to him, nervously chewing on her nail and Steve was looking at the rather gory photos that they had been sent through from the Mexican Authorities.

“Is it definitely him?” Steve sighed, looking at the screen again. In a million years he would never have expected Barton to be capable of such out and out gore and violence, but then again the man had lost his entire family- wife and three kids. Steve wasn’t sure how he would react should anything happen to Katie, Emmy or Jamie.

“Yeah.” Nat sighed, pressing another button. This time it flipped to some CCTV footage of the incident. They three of them watched as Clint took down six gang members, brutally, and with a final swipe of the samurai sword he was holding almost severed one man’s head completely from its shoulders. “Same MO, same fight pattern, and the facial recognition software caught him about five miles north of this town less than two hours before this happened.” “He’s getting more and more vicious.” Rhodey spoke. “I suppose we should be grateful in a way he’s taking down people that we should be stopping but how long till someone gets caught in the cross fire?” “Clint wouldn’t-” Natasha began but Steve cut her off.

“Once I would agree with you.” he sighed, looking at her “But now, well, Nat, he’s…” “Lost it.” Rhodey concluded

“So would you if you’d seen your wife and kids turn to dust.” Nat’s voice was fierce as she turned to look at him.

“I know.” Rhodey held his hands up “I can’t even imagine what he went through.”

Steve looked at Nat, recognising the pensive look on her face. “What you thinking?”

She took a deep breath. “I’m gonna fly out to Mexico. Rhodey, can you come with me? We’ll see if we can dig anything up?” Rhodey nodded. Steve was about to offer his services too, but then his phone started ringing.

“Hey beautiful.” He greeted Katie, but instead of the usual response of either hello handsome or soldier, he was met with an exasperated sigh.

“Emmy’s Principal has just called me.” She groaned “She’s been in a fight.”

Steve frowned. “Really? What for?” “No idea. He didn’t say much other than he’s excluding her for a week and wants us to go collect her as soon as we can. Thing is, I have a call in twenty with the Health Authorities, President Ellis has asked me to give them some guidance on how we regrouped at SI, and I can try and rearrange but if I can’t it means she’s gonna be sat outside the office for at least an hour and a half. Is there any chance you-”

“I got, course I’ll go. I’m done here anyway so you do what you need to do and we’ll see you at home.”

“Thank you.” She sighed “Between this and Jamie screaming blue murder when I dropped him in at the Day Care this morning It hasn’t really been the spectacular return to work I was hoping for.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “He didn’t take it well then?” “No.” Her voice cracked “God, Steve, Leaving him there whilst he was screaming, fuck, it broke my heart.” Steve took a sigh and walked a little further away from Rhodey and Natasha, dropping his voice. “Honey, he’ll be fine. You know what he’s like. Ten minutes after you left he will have forgotten why he’s so upset and will have settled.”

“I know, I just, well Mom and Dad used to palm me and Tony off on our Nannies all the time and-”

“This is completely different.” Steve cut her off. “First off, you’re leaving him for what, five hours a day, maximum. Second off, he’s being watched at a crèche, twenty floors down from where you are, in the same building so you can see him whenever you want.”

“I was advised by the Staff not to do that today.” She sniffed. “It could unsettle him more.”

“I’m sure they know what they’re talking about.” Steve soothed her gently “Look, try not to worry. Jamie will be fine, I’ll go sort Emmy out and we’ll see you at home this evening okay?” “My hero.” she said and Steve smiled.

“Love you, see you later.”

Cutting the call he turned to Rhodey and Nat who were still looking at the screen. Walking back towards them he picked up his jacket where he had tossed it over the back of a chair, reaching for his keys at the same time.

“Guys, I gotta go.” He informed them and they looked up. “Emmy’s in trouble at school and I need to head in and see the Principal.”

“Trouble?” Nat frowned.

“Fighting.” Steve rolled his eyes as Nat and Rhodey exchanged a glance, Nat smirking slightly. Steve gave an exasperated sigh. “What?”

“Nothing.” Nat grinned. “Just don’t punch the Principal in the face…”

*****

It took Steve little over thirty minutes to reach the school. He may have broken a few speeding laws on the way, but Katie was right, it was too easy to do in the Camero. To be honest, it was pretty easy to do in the new Audi they had bought just before Christmas too, but Katie had that as it was easier to get Jamie’s seat and stroller in. The Camero was not child friendly, at all, but she had insisted on keeping it as a second car, despite Steve’s protests that they didn’t need it.

With an easy tug he pulled open the doors to the reception of the school and strode inside. The woman behind the desk handed him a visitor’s pass and led him down to the office as he brushed a piece of fluff off the front of his long sleeved blue top. Steve followed the white haired lady through the corridors in silence until he reached the office and spotted Emmy was sat outside it, slumped in a chair. At the sight of her father she jumped up and ran into his arms, crying.

“Hey,” He looked down as he smoothed her dark, ebony hair out of her face, cupping her face gently in one large hand. “What’s going on, Em?” “He started it.” She sniffed. “He was saying things, about you and mom and that my birth parents and that…that…”

She was starting to have a panic attack, Steve could see that instantly. She’d suffered from them a lot when she had first started to live with them and he knew that if he didn’t help her get it under control now it would escalate.

“Deep breaths.” He spoke gently, steering her back to a chair. She sat down and he tilted her head with his hand so that she was looking at him. “Count to ten, just like we practiced ok?”

She gripped onto his forearms, her eyes screwing shut as she took deep inhales and exhales, counting along as she did. By the time she got to seven she’d managed to ground herself again, and Steve encouraged her for the remaining three numbers, them just reaching ten as the door to the office at the end of the corridor opened.

“Mr Rogers.”

 Steve stood up to greet the Principal, John Stevenson, who he had met once before when they had enrolled Emmy into the school. He was a tall, lean man with round glasses and a kind face, but an air of authority perfect for that of a headmaster “Mr Stevenson.” Steve smiled, shaking his hand “I don’t mean to be rude, but could you give me a second with my daughter please? I want to hear her side of the story and then I’ll be right with you.”

“Of course,” the man nodded, giving him and Emmy a little smile. “Just come in when you’re ready.”

Once the door to his office was shut, Steve sat on the spare seat next to Emmy. “So you wanna tell me what happened. Who ya been fightin’ with?”

“A boy a grade above. And I wasn’t fighting. Not really, I mean I hit him but he fell over, he didn’t hit me back.” Steve bit his lip. “Seems the stuff your mom and Auntie Nat taught you came in handy, huh?”

Emmy shrugged.

“What did you hit him for?”

“Because he’s a jerk and a bully” Emmy’s hands were wringing together. “He was picking on a few of the kids who lost their parents all through last year and then last month when I told him to shut up, he decided to start on me”

Steve took a deep breath “What was he saying?”

“The usual, stuff like ‘you don’t have a real family’, said that you and mom only look after me because you feel guilty that the Avengers fucked, sorry, messed up.” She glanced up at Steve, but he merely arched an eyebrow, letting the curse word slide. “And he says that once I’m old enough you’ll throw me out, and then he called me a, and I quote ‘fucking orphan rat’.” She shrugged. “Sso I punched him.”

“Alright.” Steve took a deep breath, his jaw ticking as he supressed the feeling of annoyance and anger that had flooded his system at Emmy’s explanation. “We’ll unpack all that when we get home, with your mom.”

“Are you mad?” Emmy blinked up at him, her eyes wide.

“Well, punching him probably wasn’t the best way to deal with the situation.” Steve sighed, and instantly his wife’s voice popped into his head at how hypocritical he felt. 

“Hello Kettle, this is Steve Rogers, you’re black…”

“But if what you’re telling me is true-“   “It is Dad I swear!”

“Then no, I’m not mad. At you.” He gave her a small smile. “But I’m mad as hell he said those horrible things to you though.” He looked at Emmy as she smiled softly. “Now, I best go speak to your principal. I won’t be long, and then we’ll go home and talk properly okay?”

She nodded and Steve dropped a kiss to her head as he stood up and walked to the door. Rapping on it twice, he pulled it open and stepped inside the room, shutting it behind him. Principal Stevenson stood up, shook his hand before gesturing down at the chairs on the opposite side of his desk.

“So did she tell you what happened?” The man asked, leaning back slightly in his chair.

Steve nodded. “She said that a boy, I didn’t get his name…” “Josh Gemmil.” “Yes, well, she told me that this Josh had been picking on a few kids and when he started on her, she didn’t take kindly to it. And to be frank, I can’t say I blame her. The things he was saying to Emmy were disgusting.” “Yeah, and that may be the case.” Mr Stevenson sighed heavily, “but the issue is, Mr Rogers, we have a strict zero tolerance to violence policy, so, given Emmy did punch him in front of pretty much the entire school in the yard, I’ve no alternative but to suspend her for a week.” “Are you suspending him?” Steve asked.

“Sorry?” The man opposite Steve frowned. “I’m not…” “The boy who Emmy punched. Are you suspending him for what he said?”

“No-one has corroborated her story, well, other than Brooke and I know how close they are so she could be-” “Woah, hold up.” Steve interrupted, holding his hand up to cut that man off as a flash of anger surged through his chest. “Are you insinuating Emmy is lying?” “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” “So if she’s telling the truth, then surely the boy deserves punishment as well. Emmy isn’t the only person he’s been saying things to.”

“She’s the only person who has punched him.” “That may be, but either way-.”

“Mr Rogers,” the Principal sighed, cutting him off,  “for what it’s worth Josh’s parents will be coming in later and I will be consulting them about his behaviour, but unfortunately Emmy has broken his nose.” “Well, I’d like to say I’m sorry about that but I’m not.” Steve was too far gone now to be rational, his instinct to protect his daughter had well and truly kicked in and the guy in front of him was really pissing him off. “I don’t like bullies,” he continued, levelling the man with a look and he visibly recoiled back into his seat, “and I’m not gonna punish my daughter for standing up to one. If you deem it fit to suspend her then fine, that is your prerogative, and of course I will tell her that violence is not acceptable, but I would expect some level of punishment to be extended to the boy in question and not just her.”

The Principal nodded. “Mr Rogers, I can assure you, if it was up to me I wouldn’t be suspending her at all, but my hands are tied by the governors and policies. I make an exception here, I have to do it for others and before you know it…” he trailed off. Steve took a deep breath, he could understand that perfectly, didn’t make it any easier for him to swallow though. “But that’s why the suspension is only for a week and not the two.”

Steve nodded. “Okay, do I need to sign anything or…”

“No.” the Principal shook his head. “Emmy has her log on to Workspace, her class notes and homework will be detailed on there as usual so she doesn’t miss out. If there is anything she doesn’t understand or needs help with, she can catch up when she gets back. She’s a very, smart kid so I’m not too concerned about that aspect of things.” Steve nodded, and stood up. He took a deep breath and stepped back into the corridor to find Brooke was sat with Emmy now, her arm round her best friend.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Steve asked, shooting the red head a look.

“Hey Mr R, don’t sweat it. Told em I was going to the bathroom.” Brooke shrugged and Steve rolled his eys.

“Well scoot before you get into trouble too.” He gestured with his head to the doors that led back to the reception area.

“Can Brooke come over later?” Emmy asked, timidly, “Or am I grounded?”

Steve took a deep breath “Not tonight, we need to have a chat. But over the weekend then, sure.” “’kay.” Emmy nodded, standing up. She reached for her rucksack but Steve took it from her, carrying it in his right hand, his left gently between Emmy’s shoulder blades as he steered her towards the exit. As they walked into the reception, Emmy stopped dead and he heard Brooke who was walking along at his other side mutter an ‘uh-oh’.

“This her?” A short, squat woman with a very short hair cut was stood a few feet in front of him, a boy by her side, a few inches taller than her, dressed in a bloodied T-shirt glared at Emmy and nodded. Instantly Steve moved forward a step so he was level with his daughter, his hand dropping to her shoulder.

“Your daughter broke my son’s nose.” The woman glared up at him.

“So I understand.” Steve nodded. “She has been suspended and we’ll be dealing with it appropriately.”

“You know, kids like her, they shouldn’t be-”

“Kids like her?” Steve blinked at the woman, and shook his head. “Excuse me?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.” Steve’s voice was low. “So, please, explain.”

“I mean with violent and aggressive tendencies, they should be locked up not in a school with normal kids-” “Woah, now hang on.” Steve held his hand up as he looked at the woman. “Your son isn’t exactly innocent in all this.” “I don’t see your daughter with blood all over her shirt. He didn’t hit her…” “I would hope not, seeing as he’s a boy and half a foot taller than her.” He shot back and the woman’s mouth snapped shut. Steve turned to Emmy and handed her the backpack and his keys. “Go and get in the car, sweetheart, I’ll be with you in a minute.” Emmy glanced up at him, one look on his face told her he wasn’t to be argued with, and she nodded and took them from him, before leaving.

His attention then turned to the teenager and woman and he folded his arms across his chest, glaring at them both. The boy had a sharp face, slicked back blonde hair and for some reason he reminded Steve of a younger Gilmore Hodge. Which was never a good thing. He looked at the woman and spoke again, his voice level but full of that Captain Authority he could never help turning on in situations like this.

“Your son said some very nasty things to my daughter, and in normal circumstances he should be apologising. However, given what happened I suggest we leave it at that and they agree to stay away from one another in the future.” “Him apologise?” The woman practically shrieked. “She punched him, if anything she’s the one that should be saying sorry.” Steve gave a huff of a laugh “I can assure you that won’t be happening. Besides,” he turned to the boy, “do you really want an apology from a ‘fucking orphan rat’?”

He heard a snigger followed by a mumble of “mic drop…” to his right and turned to see Brooke was still there.

“What are-” he shot her a look, pointing towards the class rooms, “-scoot.” “Later Mr R.” Brooke shot him a salute and he raised an eyebrow as she headed off back to wherever she should have been in the first place.

“Did you say that?” The woman had rounded on her son.

“No…I swear.” “He said he didn’t.” Steve shook his head, his hands dropping to the buckle of his belt. “I’m not interested in whether he admits it or not. Fact of the matter is I believe my daughter and according to her and her friend, Emmy isn’t the first kid he’s picked on but I’m sure as hell hoping she’s gonna be the last, especially now he’s had a punch in the face to make him consider the consequences of his actions.” His lips quirked a little at the side as he delivered his final line. “I’d hate for him to get antoher.” “How dare you threaten him?” The woman was now talking in that high a pitch it was making Steve’s ears hurt.

“That isn’t a threat.” Steve shook his head “Merely an observation. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He turned to the door when the woman spluttered after him “You know, we do know where you live. That big, fancy house in Clinton Hill.” “Then by all means feel free to call round later.” Steve laughed as he turned to grin at the woman of her shoulder. “But I really don’t fancy your chances against my wife.” ****** “He said WHAT?” Katie spluttered once Steve had explained what had gone on. “The little fucking shit!” “His mother wasn’t much better either.” Steve shook his head as he raised Jamie up higher in the air above him, the tot screaming with laughter. “She threatened to come round later.” “I’ll kick her fucking ass!” Katie folded her arms across her chest and a wry smile crossed Steve’s face as he brought Jamie back down to his chest.

“Yeah I told her I didn’t fancy her chances.”

“Where’s Emmy now?” Katie asked.

“In her room, she said she wanted to be alone for a bit.”

Katie pondered for a moment, before she moved and walked out of the kitchen, calling up the stairs, “Emmy? Can you come down for a minute please?”

Katie came back into the kitchen and it wasn’t long before Emmy appeared, her eyes red. Katie sighed and pulled her into a hug.

“I’m sorry, I just, ” Emmy sniffed. “He was so rude and…” “Sweetie, we’re not mad.” Katie shook her head, steering the girl across the hall “We just want to talk to you, about what he said,” she gestured at one of the seats by the breakfast bar, “sit.”

Emmy did as she was told and Steve placed Jamie in the pack and play at the corner of the room. There was a minute or so silence before Katie slid a mug of hot chocolate, containing marshmallows and cream across the counter to Emmy, then passed Steve a coffee, picking up her own drink before she rounded the counter and sat on a stool next to Emmy, Steve staying where he was, the base of his back leaning against the worktop opposite them.

“So your dad told me what happened.” Katie began “And we want to talk to you about what that little jerk said to you.”

“I shouldn’t have let him get to me.” Emmy shrugged “I know what he was saying was crap but…” “If your dad had a dollar for every time he had reacted to something he shouldn’t have done he’d be richer than Tony.” Katie smiled and Steve gave a scoff.

“You’re a fine one to talk.” He raised an eyebrow at his wife and she grinned.

“And as for throwing you out once you’re old enough,” Katie shook her head, “you’re with us for as long as you wanna be. And then even when you don’t want to be, and you move out, we’ll be keeping tabs on you, annoying you, like Tony does to me.”

Emmy smiled and wiped at her eyes.

“You said he’s been picking on you for a while?” Steve asked “What made you snap today?” Emmy shrugged “I guess I was just fed up with it and when he was laughing about my name on my test paper, and he called me an orphan rat I saw red.” Katie took a deep breath, she was furious but before she could say anything Steve spoke, a frown creasing his brow.

“What do you mean he was laughing at your name?” “My surname.” Emmy shrugged “On stuff like the register and things at school its Rogers but on my official test papers for my grades it has to be McKellen, because Rogers isn’t my real name. And he was laughing saying that I didn’t belong anywhere.” Steve and Katie locked eyes and Steve was the first one to break away.

“Does it bother you, that your name isn’t Rogers?”

“Not normally.” She shrugged

“What if we made it so?” Katie asked.

“What, like change it legally?” “That’s one way of doing it.” Steve shrugged.  “The other is we adopt you.” Katie looked at her husband and smiled. This was something they’d mentioned in passing to one another a few times but never really talked about in any detail as, well, to them things were fine as they were. But now, well, it just felt right. The next step for them all. Making her status as their daughter official.

“Adopt me?” Emmy’s voice was a whisper.

“Yeah.” Katie nodded. “Look, Em, as far as we’re concerned you’re already our daughter, and not just a foster one either. It’s merely a formality. But it’s up to you.” “Do you want to think about it?” Steve asked.

“No.” Emmy shook her head as she looked up tears in her eyes. “No, I don’t want to think about it. I’d love it, I really would.” Katie smiled as the girl threw her arms round her shoulders and began to sob. Steve put his mug down on the counter next to him and strode round to wrap his large arms around both his girls until a loud screech form the corner of the room made them all look up. Jamie was stood gripping the side of his play pen, clearly disgruntled at being left out of the hug.

“Alright pal, point taken.” Steve picked him up and carried him back to where Emmy was now wiping her eyes. He handed the tot to his older sister and Katie grinned.

“Family hug?” She opened her arms and Emmy laughed, as the four of them snuggled together in a huddle.

*****

March 2021

Despite Steve’s best attempts to ignore it, there was something in what that little shit had said to Emmy that had really bothered him.  The Avengers fucked up. It wasn’t an alien thought, he often found himself thinking back to how they had failed but he normally shook himself out of it. They’d done the best they could, they simply hadn’t stood a chance.

The thing was, not all of the public saw that. On more than one occasion the remaining Avengers had all experienced some kind of vitriol from the public, Natasha still receiving hate mail for them all at the compound. Whilst people he met understood, it was always the ones that didn’t which stuck in Steve’s mind, but he’d never had anything more than the odd whispered insult or dirty look come his way, that was until a few day’s after Jamie’s first birthday.

He was in the store with Emmy, picking up a few bits and pieces for the family gathering they were having to celebrate Jamie turning one and he could feel someone’s eyes on him, which wasn’t unusual. What was unusual, however, was the tap on the shoulder her received as he tossed a few items from the list Katie had given him into the trolley.

“I thought it was you.”

Steve turned to see a dark haired man, the same height as him looking back.

“Can I help you?” Steve asked politely.

The man snorted “I thought at one point, yeah, but you didn’t, this…us…what the world is now, it’s all your fault.” Steve took a deep breath, and spotted Emmy returning to the aisle he was in with an armful of snacks he had sent her for.

“Sir-” Steve began, trying to placate the man but before he could do anything the guy had punched him straight in the face. It wasn’t a hard blow, but Steve hadn’t been expecting it. Or the subsequent blows for that matter.

He was vaguely aware Emmy was screaming, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a security guard hurrying towards him. Before he reached them, Emmy had kicked the man hard in the shin and was shouting at him, as he hopped on his good leg. Steve doubled over, the ringing in his ears subsiding as he pinched at his nose which was streaming blood.

“Oh my God.” A female voice said “Billy, what…” she looked up at Steve and paled “Captain, oh God, I’m so sorry…he’s…” Steve waved away another member of the public who had come to help, insisting he was fine. Taking a deep breath he looked up and saw the man was now crying, his head buried into his wife’s shoulders.

“We…we lost our son.” The lady continued, with a choked voice. “He hasn’t dealt with it so well.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve bowed his head, it was all he could think to say.

“It isn’t you fault” The lady shook her head. “And he doesn’t think that, not really, it’s just we never got a proper explanation, you know, bar official government statements. No real help to come to terms with anything.” “That doesn’t mean he can just punch the crap outta my dad!” Emmy blazed, indignantly and Steve lay a hand on her shoulder. “Emmy.” He shook his head gently before he turned to the woman. “I’m sorry that no one was there for you and I’m sorry that we couldn’t do more. But we tried.” The last three words were almost a plea to her, trying to make her understand they had tried, boy did they try. She cast him another sad look before she led her husband away.

“You ok?” Steve looked down at his daughter.

“Me?” She frowned “What about you?” “Had worse.” Steve mumbled, gently touching his nose “Let’s get out stuff and get home before it starts to set. I don’t fancy having to re-break it.”

**** Katie was sat smiling as Natasha was holding Jamie up, his hands curled round her fingers as she guided him round the living room.

“Won’t be long until he’s doing this himself.” The red head smiled, and Katie grinned.

“He’s growing so fast.” 

“Think you’ll have another?” Nat looked at her.

Katie shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, Steve would have a football team full if I let him but, who knows.”

Nat smiled and Katie’s attention turned back to her son who was toddling in front of his Auntie. He was looking more and more like his father each day and was now a substantial little chunk who was pretty strong and robust too. Small bumps and knocks didn’t seem to phase him at all, and the other day he’d been playing with a tonka truck and had fallen onto it, flattening it completely. He’d screamed blue murder, more over the fact his toy was broken than he had been hurt, but it had made both his parents realise that he was definitely half Super Soldier and wasn’t inheriting any of Steve’s pre-serum ailments, much to Steve’s relief.

Their attention was taken as all three of them heard the car pull up the gravel drive and Jamie gave an excited giggle and started moving his legs even faster at the sound, understanding it to mean his father was back. Smiling to herself, Katie watched as he giggled and started trying to run to the door, and when it opened she looked up fully expecting Steve to grin and swoop his boy up into his arms, except what greeted her made her hand fly up to her mouth. His shirt was covered with blood and his nose was out of shape.

“Shit.” Katie stood up and headed straight to him, gently reaching up to slide a finger to his face, tilting it so she could see. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine sweetheart” he said gently.

“What the hell happened?” Nat asked as she picked Jamie up, who was still squirming to get to his father, completely nonplussed by what was going on.

“Some guy in the store punched him.” Emmy explained, and Katie looked at her daughter, whose eyes were swollen, she’d been crying.

“What? Why?” she frowned. “Em, can you grab me an ice pack out the freezer?” Steve asked before she could answer, she was upset enough as it was and he didn’t want her seeing or hearing what was coming next. She nodded and headed off.

“Steve.” Katie watched as he sat down on the sofa, shaking his head.

“Just reset it before it starts to heal anymore.” He grumbled. “Quickly before she gets back.”

Katie sat next to him and reached out gently. He grit his teeth as she snapped his nose back into place. Across the room Nat flinched at the crunching noise it made.

“Fuck.” Steve cursed softly before laying his head back against the cushions of the couch steadying his breathing as his eyes began to water from the pain. He knew it would heal quickly but that didn’t stop it hurting like hell.

“You gonna tell us what happened?” Katie asked, looking at him.

“Some guy at the store recognised me and started screaming that it was all our fault, the Snap, and hit me.”

“Must have been a pretty hard swing.” Nat said gently, bouncing Jamie up and down, distracting him with the Cap teddy bear she had grabbed off the floor. Jamie grinned at the bear and grabbed it, sticking the ear of it into his mouth.

“He didn’t just hit you once, Dad.” Emmy said gently as she returned, passing him the ice pack.

“How many times was it?” Katie frowned.

“Four ,maybe.” he shrugged

“Try Six” Emmy muttered.

“Six?!” Katie’s voice grew loud

“And you just let him?” Nat’s snorted. “What else could I do Nat?” Steve sighed, “I couldn’t hit him back…” “Yes, you damned well could!” Katie seethed. “Fuck!”

“Language.” Steve chastised playfully. “Besides, wasn’t really going to hit him once Em had kicked him in the shin.”

“You kicked him?” Katie looked at Emmy who shrugged.

“He was screaming and punching so I kicked him, real hard, and then told him that he was an asshole, and everyone had lost, and that he should try fighting Thanos in a field in Wakanda himself if he could do any better…” “Then the guy’s wife appeared.” Steve sighed, pressing the ice pack to his face.

“Yeah, she was nice.” Emmy nodded. “Said they had lost their son and she was so sorry.” “But they’d never really had a chance to ask questions or had an explanation other than what the Government had said.” Steve’s voice was muffled slightly from the pack. “But it got me thinking in the car about how many other people out there like that.” “So we had an idea.” Emmy nodded “Support groups.” “Support groups?” Katie frowned.

“Yeah, we have them at school.” Emmy said “Somewhere for people to go and talk about their issues and feelings.” “That’s actually not a bad idea.” Nat mused and Steve nodded.

“I know. Surprised we didn’t think of it sooner.”

“Well we’ve had other things on our minds.” Katie popped a shoulder, gently.

“I’m gonna help.” Emmy smiled. “We’re gonna brainstorm ideas later after the party.”

“Yeah, on that, do me a favour and no one mention this to Tony when he gets here.” Steve groaned as he stood up, ice pack still on his nose. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”

Leaving Emmy to watch Jamie, Nat and Katie unloaded the car and took the supplies to the kitchen. Steve showered quickly and came back to help them, and it wasn’t long before the food was sorted, Katie’s ability to cook how easily she did never ceased to amaze Steve. Before long the gang arrived and Morgan toddled in, holding Tony’s hand before he let go and she bee-lined for Emmy who was sat on the living room floor where she had been sat looking at a book with Jamie.

“Hey Moo!” Emmy grinned at the younger girl who sat with a soft thud next to her, leaning into her older cousin for a hug.

Tony watched them for a short while before he asked if Emmy was okay and then headed into the kitchen to find Pepper already clutching a glass of champagne. Katie handed him a beer as she pulled him into a hug and he shook Steve’s hand.

“You’re in the same room as usual.” Katie looked at him. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted Moo in with you guys or not so there’s the travel cot in there or she can have the room over from you…” “She can stay with us.” Tony nodded, taking a pull from his beer.

“Where is she?”  Natasha asked.

“With Emmy. She adores that kid.”

“Have you told her the paperwork has been finalised?” Pepper asked looking at Katie and Steve who both shook their head.

“No, we’re gonna surprise her with that later.” Katie smiled.

“We got her a little something.” Tony swallowed his beer. “You know, just to welcome her officially to the mad house.” “What is it?” Steve asked suspiciously.

“Nothing Iron Man or Tony Stark related.” Pepper looked at Steve. “I promise.” Tony shrugged. “Spoil sport.” The five adults all headed into the large living room, Jamie grinned up at his uncle and crawled over to him. Tony swung him up in the air and smiled, that is until Jamie head-butted him by accident.

“Oww…shhhhhhhhugar!” The billionaire corrected his curse before wincing. “Man, Rogers, this kid has your knuckle head.” Steve smirked. “He’s still half Stark.”

“Mind you, you should be grateful he doesn’t take after his mom. She was a horror.” “Was not.” Katie shot back indignantly. “Kiddo, you were a pain in the ass.” Tony sniggered. “You stuck bread in the VCR. Dad hit the roof.” “I thought it was a toaster.” Katie shrugged as the room laughed. “Mind you, not like we have to worry about that now seeing as VCRs went out in the stone age.” “Was that an age joke?” Tony smirked. “Do I have to respond with one about your husband or…” Steve rolled his eyes “Go ahead, be original.” “You know you’re almost as sarcastic as she is now.” Nat but in, pointing at Katie who grinned before she looked at Tony.

“You remember what dad used to say?”

“Sarcasm is a measure of potential,” Tony imitated their father’s voice. “And if that’s true…” “You’ll be a great man someday.” Katie finished, the two of them laughing.

Despite the crappy start to the day, it was a nice afternoon surrounded by their family. They drank, ate and eventually it was time for the cake which Katie and Steve were excited about, for good reason. Katie placed it down on the coffee table in the middle of the lounge, complete with candles. For the first time the group got a look at it, and Steve heard Emmy gasp. Half the large cake was iced in blue, the other half was lilac and across the top the word ‘Happy’ spanned both halves, before the next line read birth on the blue side and adoption on the other, before the word day sat underneath.

Emmy glanced up at her parents, her eyes filling with tears. “You mean…” Steve grinned and handed her the envelope he’d retrieved from the kitchen, which she took in shaking hands. “Signed, sealed, done. You’re officially a Rogers, Em.”

“Poor thing.” Tony mumbled, earning himself a slap round the back of the head from Natasha.

Together the Rogers’ children blew out their candles (well, Katie blowing Jamie’s out on his behalf before the boy could grab one of them and burn himself) and then Emmy turned to look at Steve and Katie before throwing herself forwards, her arms round both their waists. Steve’s arm fell to her back and he pressed a kiss to Katie’s cheek before Tony stepped forward and handed Emmy a small gift bag.

“It’s just a little something.” He smiled. “Just to say welcome to the family, officially we mean, because you’re already part of the…” He rolled his eyes as Emmy blinked up at him. “Just take it, kid.”

Emmy took the bag and opened it, her eyes widening as she looked at the box, emblazoned with the word Pandora. Katie peered down as Emmy opened it and smiled at the charm bracelet which was inside. It held charms, the letters EJR for her initials, Emily Jayne Rogers.

“Thank you.” She whispered before she gave Tony a hug, then Pepper. She stepped back and turned around, her eyes brimming with tears. “This is the best day ever!”

And despite the shitty start to it in the store, Steve was inclined to agree it hadn’t been that bad at all.

Chapter 47

 **Original Posting**

[jsteneil]

So today (the 30th) is my birthday so here’s a birthday prompt for our boy and queen himself that I started and forgot to finish in february  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Neil is on his feet as soon as Kevin opens the door.

“We’re going,” he says.

Kevin stares at him for a second, dropping his bag on the floor—that book on the socio-economical development of railway in Europe is heavy—, but Neil’s face doesn’t change.

“Did you have afternoon classes? You shouldn’t go to practice on an empty stomach.”

“I’m fine,” Neil says. Somewhere on campus, Andrew’s whole body just spasmed, Kevin is sure. “We’re not going to practice.”

“What?” Neil’s gaze strays to the side. Kevin follows it to the calendar taped to the fridge. “Oh, no,” he says, catching on. “We have a game next week.”

“It’s in seven days,” Neil says. “We’d have gone out to Eden’s anyway.”

He’s still standing in the middle of the room, so Kevin takes his bag and makes his way to the bedroom, the farthest point from the front door. If he can get on his bed, open a book, maybe take a nap—

“You won’t even celebrate your birthday,” he says as Neil follows him.

“It’s not my decision.” Neil looks and sounds a bit like he’s dreading this as much as Kevin. There is not a celebratory bone in his body.

“Did Nicky put you up to this?”

“I can’t say.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a liar?”

Neil’s phone must go off, because he fishes it out of his pocket and clicks a number of keys to read a message. He conveniently forgets to answer. Kevin collapses on his bed and tries not to think of the beautiful embrace of sleep.

“I’m allowed to use force,” Neil says, looking up from his phone.

Kevin stares at him for a while. “How?”

Neil doesn’t answer that either. “Come on.”

No amount of scowling deters Neil from dragging him through the door and pointedly locking it shut. Kevin wants to tell him he has his own keys, but when he looks closely, he realizes that it’s his set of keys that Neil is using, and he doesn’t give them back. Neil types something on his phone one-handed, then snaps it shut with a vengeance.

“Alright, let’s go.”

By the time they make their way downstairs, Andrew is leaning against the Maserati in the parking lot, pale and black like an omen of ill-fortune. Kevin scowls at the cigarette pinched between his lips. Ever since he started running with Bee after her accident, they’ve all noticed a significant decrease in the number of cigarettes smoked around the dorm, but on weekends Andrew still lets himself go.

Kevin wishes he could pluck the stick out from Andrew’s grasp and stomp on his addiction at the same time, but even for him that’s hypocritical.

“Finally,” Andrew says as he puts the cigarette out.

“Did you wait long?” Neil asks, getting close.

Kevin turns his eyes away and slides in the passenger seat. Watching Neil and Andrew grow into something more every day feels both natural and slightly bitter. There might only have been Nicky to be surprised by their relationship. To Kevin, it’s as resounding as the shock of an exy ball thumped against a wall.

To Kevin’s surprise, no one is waiting in the car. Neil slides in the backseat, leaving Kevin to sit next to Andrew’s characteristic wall of silence.

“Where are the others?” he asks as Andrew backs the car out of its parking spot. He assumes they’re going to Columbia, but it makes little sense for them to go without the others. Kevin is glad he’s not rooming with Nicky anymore if it turns out Andrew and Neil have planned on going out without him.

Andrew hits the brake. “It’s a surprise,” he says, as if Andrew Minyard somehow understood the concept of birthday surprises. “Neil?”

“Oh, yeah.” Neil’s knee hits the back of Kevin’s seat when he contorts himself to extract something from his pocket. He throws the thing on Kevin’s shoulder. “You’re supposed to put this on.”

It’s one of the shirts Nicky bought for Neil when they go out to Eden’s, a scrap of black mesh fabric. It’s surprisingly tiny when folded over itself.

“This is never going to fit me,” Kevin says. He senses a headache building behind his eyes. Andrew still hasn’t backed the car out of its spot. “Did you both hit your heads? Is this a parallel universe? What’s going on?”

“It’s a blindfold,” Andrew says, turning over in his seat. “For the surprise.”

“You want me to blindfold myself with a shirt.”

“I thought the sleeves would be useful to tie it behind you,” Neil says. “I considered putting a bag over your head but it seemed a bit too execution-style even for me.”

Contrary to what people might think upon meeting him, Kevin knows that Neil actually can make jokes. He’s not sure this is one of them.

“Yes or no?” Neil asks impatiently as Kevin considers the shirt.

“We could stuff him in the trunk,” Andrew suggests, leaning up to meet Neil’s gaze in the back mirror.

Coming from Andrew, the suggestion might be even more dangerous than Neil’s mob-style blindfolding method. Still, his tone was light—as light as it gets—and Kevin is eighty-percent sure it was another joke.

This is shaping up to be a weird evening.

“Fine,” he relents. Andrew is clearly not starting the car again until Kevin has a shirt tied around his face. He hands the shirt back to Neil. “Do it.”

Neil rolls the shirt a few times in the air, then places it around Kevin’s head. Kevin directs the shirt to rest above his eyes but clear of his nose, tucking up a bit hanging in front of his face.

“There,” Neil says. He tugs on the to make sure they’re secure, then Kevin feels him sitting back. “Sure you can’t see anything?”

Everything is black. “Just go.”

Andrew finally turns the key in the ignition again.

“Kevin wouldn’t have fit in the trunk,” Neil says as though he’d been seriously considering Andrew’s proposition. “We’d need a SUV. I’m not sure even I would fit.”

“Don’t push me,” Andrew warns, “or you’ll find out.”

It feels weird to hear their voices in the dark, so close and disembodied.

“Please stop flirting,” Kevin says to remind them that the shirt covers his eyes, not his ears.

Neil presses his foot into Kevin’s lower back, gentler than he could have been. The next time he speaks, it’s in German. Andrew hums in response, then the Maserati jerks brutally to the right and Kevin is left without point of reference to his surroundings. He was sure they were almost out of the parking lot, but he thinks Andrew might be turning around on purpose to confuse him.

Coming from Neil, it’s not surprising.

It’s too short a drive for them to be in Columbia, though it’s longer than Kevin would have anticipated. Maybe they’re still in Palmetto. Maybe they went to Abby’s house.

His mind is still churning out hypotheses when he hears Neil’s and Andrew’s doors open. Kevin scrambles for the tie to the blindfold, but his door opens before he can get to it. “Don’t touch,” Neil says. “Get out, I’ll guide you.”

“I can get out of the car just fine,” Kevin says, batting his hands away. He almost trips when he stands up, but thankfully Neil doesn’t remark on it. Hands on his elbow guide him a few steps away, then Neil’s voice comes from behind him.

“You can take it off.”

Kevin does, cursing when the knot catches in his hair. Neil tied it tight, too, and in the end Kevin just sort of rips it out.

He has to blink a few times to get his vision back. The high lights are still as bright as usual, blinding for someone who spent the past fifteen minutes in the dark.

They’re outside the court.

“Surprise!” the Foxes shout before Kevin can say something. They’re all huddled in front of the athletes’ entrance.

“Happy birthday,” Dan says, stepping forward. “We couldn’t do anything last year so we figured we’d do something twice as fun today.”

Last year’s February 22nd was a Thursday just before a game, so Kevin had forbidden any of the Foxes to make a fuss. He had spent his twenty-first birthday watching Andrew eat the cake Nicky bought for him and trying not think about his past.

He’d spent the one before that drinking himself into a stupor, shaking every time his eyes fell on the dirty white of his cast.

“What kind of fun?” Kevin asks anyway.

“You’ll see,” Dan says. “Allison?”

Allison turns to rummage into a large shopping bag at her feet, taking out a colorful birthday hat. She hands it out solemnly to Dan, who gestures for Kevin to lean down.

“There you go,” she says, snapping the elastic under his chin.

The hat almost falls off. Kevin automatically reaches to steady it.

“Is this necessary?”

“Yes. Now let’s go in, I’m freezing.”

Matt clasps Kevin on the back when he is shuffled forward. “You’ll like it,” he says. “Renee helped organize it, so you know it’s tasteful.”

“I’m surprised anyone on this team knows the meaning of this word.”

“Hey!”

“Case in point,” Neil mutters from somewhere at the back of the group.

“Shush,” Andrew says with his usual brand of brutal fondness. “You don’t get to criticize anyone’s mouthing off.”

The Foxes’ party organizing skills apparently extend to bringing an ungodly amount of alcohol and snacks into the court’s lounge. Kevin doubts this was Renee’s doing, except maybe the small cupcakes decorated with her signature rainbow sprinkles. A large banner is hung from the ceiling, reading “Happy 22nd Birthday, Kevin”, with the twos crossed out and replaced by badly printed pictures of chess pieces.

“Is that the tasteful part?” Kevin mutters.

Andrew slithers past him through the door and glances around. “Look,” he says, pointing to the table in the middle of the room. “Pineapples.”

It might be an answer to his question. It might not. In any case, Andrew’s right: the paper plates are covered in colorful pineapple patterns.

The way Andrew says it makes Kevin glance at him from the corner of his eye. He looks almost too detached, like a caricature of himself.

“Were you the one who told them I like pineapples?” Kevin asks, because he’s never been good at denying himself the hope of provoking Andrew into responding.

“You’re not that much of a mystery,” Andrew replies, which is neither here nor there. He leaves, cutting short the conversation, and makes a beeline for the frost-covered cupcakes.

The Foxes must have passed the word around not to leave Kevin alone all day, because Nicky replaces his cousin almost immediately.

“Kevin, my man,” he starts. Then: “No, it’s terrible. Dude? Sir? I can’t tell how formal you are.”

“I’ve known you for two years,” Kevin replies. “I saw you dance at 4am in your underwear.”

“Yeah, but that’s me. The neighbors probably saw it. I doesn’t mean I know their names.”

Their Columbia neighbors are an old couple who always look at them from behind their blinds when they’re at the house. Kevin isn’t sure he ever wants to know their names.

“Anyway,” Nicky continues. He places a glass of some colorful alcoholic beverage in Kevin’s hand. “Drink up, birthday boy!”

Matt does a drum roll on the back of the couch. Kevin drinks. The other Foxes cheer.

At one point Renee comes up to him, hugs him and tells him, “The cupcakes on the left are carrot cake. Lemon icing. Happy birthday!”

Neil flits in and out of his vision all evening, always too distracted for Kevin to hold even one conversation on when he intends to catch up on their missed evening training session. If they’re not going to Columbia for the weekend, Sunday is the perfect opportunity to use the court.  

They all get progressively more and more drunk as the evening progresses, until Allison’s lying on the couch with her head in Renee’s lap and Renee’s hand in her hair. Kevin downs his drink and mulls it over. It’s not an entirely new development, but it still takes Kevin by surprise.

“Ha,” Dan says. Kevin starts a little. He didn’t hear her approach. “Mark the day. Bet you fifty bucks they’ll be together by spring break.”

For someone who built her future career over reading team players and working with their dynamics, Dan is excruciatingly bad at relationships which aren’t her own.

“I’ll take it,” Kevin says.

“Really? You usually don’t bet.”

“I refused to bet on Neil and Andrew we had better things to do last year than waste time on such an obvious outcome.”

“Are you saying you’re happy with the way the season is going? Aw.” Dan hugs him one-armed, squeezing him almost painfully against her side. “Guys!” she calls before Kevin can squirm out of her hold. “Kevin’s just said he’s proud of us!”

The team cheers.

“I didn’t—” Kevin splutters, but he cuts himself short. This isn’t the battle he wants to fight.

“You’ve mellowed,” Dan says, winking at him before Matt catches her attention.

Kevin stares at her as she retreats, pressing the edge of his cup in his chin. Maybe he has.

[runningonmarvel]

be my valentine ch. 1

Happy Valentine’s Day!!! @you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus For your valentine’s day gift I have written two chapters of a multi-chapter Valentine’s Day-centric fic (and I will of course be finishing and posting the rest of the chapters in due time, but, these two chapters are pretty long so I figured it works). Anyways, I hope you like it and happy Valentine’s day!!

A/N: takes place the two weeks before Valentine’s Day in their junior year. wonah. bandi. tyrus. a few curses. unedited but enjoy!!

Chapter 1: Put Your Hand in Mine

You know that I want to be with you all the time.

Jonah snaps the headphones over his ears and half closes his eyes, back against the bench. It’s a romantic song, too peppy for his current mood, but he can’t stop listening to it. He taps one foot against on the tiled floor while Grant students shove by each other.

Oh darling, darling, baby you're so very fine

You know that I won't stop until I make you mine

He’s so sick of love songs. Andi loves them: Taylor Swift and Meghan Trainor and Beyonce. So maybe there’s a reason behind his newfound annoyance with sappiness on the radio. But this one keeps sticking in his head. Jonah imagines reaching out his hand and taking someone else’s. And for the first time in a very, very long time, the person holding his hand in his imagination isn’t Andi. And it’s not Amber, or Natalie, or anyone else.

As half of Grant high school shoves by him, Jonah pushes the headphones down around his neck. He can hear his heart pounding way-too-loudly in his chest, and there’s a continuous beat and song inside his head.

Until I make you mine

And all he can think is: just in time for Valentine’s Day. 

————

“Driscoll, catch!” Andi ducks out of the way just in time for Buffy to catch the miscellaneous basketball team member’s thrown shoe. She stares at it in confusion, but Buffy just shoves it into her backpack, gives a quick wave of thanks to the girl sprawled out on the bench, and turns back to Andi.

“Eleanor took my shoe on accident,” she explains, but Buffy’s eyes have already moved on from this conversation. They drift upwards to the large pink banner strung across Grant’s entrance, which is currently being pinned up and decorated with paper heart chains. Andi doesn’t stop to consider how an extra shoe can be taken accidentally and instead gapes up at the poster.

“Since when do we have a Valetine’s Day Dance?” Andi asks.

As if summoned by the deity of high school cheesiness, Student Council president Kip Warren steps into their path. “Since you juniors started sucking at raising money for our prom.  We’re having a fundraiser dance—you buy candygrams and roses for people for three times the prices we bought them for. And we’re using that money to pay for a real prom, not one which you idiots scheduled in someone’s garage.” Kip storms away, and a lone senior—one of Amber’s friends—starts applauding. 

“He’s way too salty. I heard that our student council planned a good prom but he’s just picky and annoying. Ugh,” Buffy says, glaring after him.

“And they’re probably spending more money on this dance then they’ll make from a few candygrams, honestly.” Andi bends over to grab a cardboard heart, which she reattaches to the wall.

“Cyrus is going to have a field day, though,” Buffy says. She looks curiously over at Andi. “Do you think you’ll go?”

Andi feels something rush through her: undeserved indignation, maybe, accompanied by an annoying blush she wishes would go away. “I mean… are you?”

“I would suggest the Good Hair Crew go, but you already know Cyrus is dedicating this night to his boy.” Buffy shrugs. “We could go together? Single and unattached?”

If Andi were eating cereal right now, she would choke. She hasn’t been to any date-requiring function since her year-long disaster of a breakup with Jonah. And now Buffy Driscoll had the audacity to stand in front of hear with her cheeks blushed dark and her eyelashes clipping her cheeks and ask her to the dance. 

“I mean—sure! Maybe Amber could go with us too?”

“You don’t think Amber is going to ask Iris? I think she’ll finally get the nerve to do it. I should probably make a bet on it,” Buffy considers, digging for her wallet and frowning slightly.

“Maybe we should ask boys?” Andi counters, suddenly. Buffy glances up at her, and the look in her eyes could kill. 

“Maybe I’ll ask Natalie. She’s cute.”

Andi can’t even respond to that. So she does what she learned best from her mother; she changes the subject.

“So, Buffy. What’d you think of the movie you and Cyrus saw?” Andi tilts her head, meeting Buffy’s eyes again. She thinks of the cheesy block letters glued to the Valentine’s Day Banner: Will you be our Valentine? February 14th at 7. Two weeks away.

Buffy knows this game, but Andi watches her play along. “Best Summer of My Life 2? It was alright. Not as good as the first one. The love story kind of sucked—classic girl meets bad boy trope.”

“Wish I could have seen it,” Andi says, adjusting the straps on her backpack. 

“Yeah, well. How was Iris’s?”

Andi has a momentary flashback to Amber and Iris chucking Skyzone dodgeballs at her while shrieking filled the general vicinity. Somehow, Iris had been convinced to have a birthday at a trampoline place, and somehow, Amber had been coerced into going along with it. 

“Horrifying.” 

Buffy laughs uncomfortably, and Andi can hear the nonexistent joke fall flat. How long has it been like this? How long has the Good Hair Crew been out of sync, and the tension between Buffy and Andi unbreakable? 

Almost a year. Too long.

“Well, I’ve got Lit. See you later?” Buffy doesn’t bother waiting around for an answer to the question. She strides away, and it’s all Andi can do to avoid staring directly at the back of her head as she leaves.

“Ask Natalie,” Andi scoffs to herself, kicking at a spot on the ground. Cyrus would call her pettiness levels off the chart, but Andi doesn’t have any other way to react to Buffy. It’s not just the ever-rotating list of new girls; it’s Buffy’s obvious annoyance with Amber, it’s Buffy’s piercing eyes and sharp, true smile she hasn’t worn in so long. It’s Buffy’s acceptance of whatever is between them, while Andi flounders, trying to pretend she’s still in the waters of freshman year, when Jonah was her only problem.

When did the thoughts in her head get so complicated? Don’t answer that, she tells herself, because she already knows the answer. Andi lifts her phone from her pocket and starts absentmindedly scrolling through her old photos. There’s Cyrus and TJ sharing a milkshake with Buffy’s arms around them. There’s Amber trying on a faded leather jacket and Andi wearing a worn suit at the Thrift Store. Andi and her mom attempting gardening while Bowie laughed in their general direction. Buffy, Cyrus, and Andi holding on for dear life while ice skating two winters ago. Further back, there’s Jonah kissing Andi on the cheek, and Marty with his arm around Buffy and Andi with her arm around Jonah on some ridiculous double date. There’s a couple miscellaneous photos of Cyrus in his costume from the musical. And then, from about a year ago—

Andi’s cheeks color red. Red, like the sauce on Bex’s homemade pizza she recently learned to cook. Red, like the color of the Space Otters’ failed sophomore year uniforms. And she shuts her phone.

This is why it’s so hard to talk to Buffy. More than the color of her eyes or the defiance in her words, it’s the specific memory every time Buffy smiles at her. It’s the memory that’s controlling her.

Andi glances back at the Valentine’s Day banner, and sticks her tongue out just for good measure. She won’t let a stupid dance run by stupid Kip Warren control her too.

Then, from behind, a hand grabs her by the shoulder and starts dragging her backwards. Andi yelps, already running through the list of eight things she learned in self-defense class with Bex this summer. Quote: if you’re not a strong athlete your best hope is to hit where it hurts. Anywhere.” Andi is about ready to swing when the arm drags her into a closet and reveals the body attached to it.

“Cyrus?”

“Sorry,” he pants, as if the physical effort to kidnap her from the hallway was exhausting. “Top secret… information.”

“Oh?” Andi says, suddenly interesting. “Another cult?”

“Heck no,” Cyrus says. “I’ve got a plan for Valentine’s Day, for TJ. But I wanted to run it by you and Buffy first. And probably Jonah too.”

Andi starts to smile, leaning back against the shelves on the wall. “Spill.”

“Well… since his big game is on Valentine’s Day…” Cyrus leads in, unable to contain his grin.

“Go on.”

“I was thinking… we could all go… and hold up signs—“

“Signs for TJ! Valentine’s Day signs?!” Andi puts a hand over her mouth. “Cyrus, that’s adorable. No, it’s perfect!”

“Yeah, and I’d ask him to the dance, and we’d go afterwards, and hopefully he won his big game, and then the dance would be super romantic, and he could take the signs home and hang them up on the walls of his room, and we’d take polaroids before the dance in our suits, and you guys would be there—“ “Thought about it much?” Andi cuts in, but her lips curl upwards with excitement. The mention of the dance is the only sour bit—Andi doesn’t need that subtle reminder that she’ll never know how to not be awkward with Buffy about it. She’ll never know how to articulate what she wants, so she’ll be stuck watching TJ and Cyrus and maybe Buffy and Natalie or some other random girl get their perfect Valentine’s Days.

“Well, maybe a little. Anyways, do you like?”

Andi breaks out of her thoughts. “I don’t like, I love. When do we make the signs?”

“This weekend maybe? To be ready by that Friday?”

“You got it, Cyrus. Text Buffy, she’ll be thrilled.”

Cyrus narrows his eyes. “She will not. I’m betting she doesn’t want to help with the signs, so it might just be you and me.”

“Aw, Buffy’ll help if you ask her.” TJ and Buffy don’t fight anymore, but it suffices to say that they’re not exactly best friends. 

“I’m already asking her to hold up one of the signs. And especially if she ends up with a crucial word—for example, Valentine—I can’t risk losing her support. I’ll just ask her about that and see how it goes.”

Andi smiles. “You and TJ have been dating for a year now, Cyrus.” Strange. A lot happened a year ago. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to hold up a sign. She just might not cheer for him.”

Cyrus nods, laughing a little. He types out a text on his phone to Buffy, sends it, then looks back up at Andi, looking a little panicked. “Should I tell Jonah? I need him to hold up the sign that says TJ. I don’t think he’s busy that weekend, the Otters don’t have a game—“ “Text him,” Andi reassures  Cyrus. He nods and types out the text while still looking up at her. 

“I need Buffy, Jonah, you, and Amber. I’ll text Amber and Jonah tonight.”

“You’re asking TJ’s sister to help with his Valentine’s Day ask?” Cyrus and Amber have been friends since middle school, and it’s still hard for Andi to wrap her head around sometimes that Cyrus is dating the brother of one of Andi’s closest friends and is additionally friends with her. It’s the type of friendship that thrives off drama, and Andi has a feeling that even if Cyrus and TJ break up (which it seems like they never will), Amber and Cyrus will be close until the ends of the earth.

“Of course. Who else was I supposed to ask? Walker?” Cyrus asks, giving Andi a look. It’s a group-acknowledged truth that Andi drove Walker from the group, even if Buffy was the last one who dated him. Walker hasn’t hung out with them for a year and a half now, except maybe a few times with Jonah. Andi misses him and his lovely creativity, but she doesn’t miss the drama he brought; Buffy was happier with Marty than with him, but then she was happier by herself than with Marty. Andi blinks slowly, realizing how this topic has made its way back to her again.

“Amber will be fine,” Andi assures, her mind not really on Cyrus or TJ. “You think she’ll finally get the guts to ask out Iris?”

Cyrus shrugs. “I hope so. Who are you going with, anyways? Not Jonah—“

“No.”

A pause.

“Jonah is my friend, yes. But I’m done being romantic with him.” Andi stops, because the words sound harsh, even if they are true. “Buffy and I are just gonna go together, like old times.”

Cyrus smiles a half smile, because old times would include him too. And all three of them know that they’ve moved on from old times. Maybe Andi the most. And yet.

“I’m gonna go find TJ now. Keep the plan under wraps, ‘kay? Friday afternoon we can pick out supplies?” “Glitter glue!” Andi says, and she can’t stop it from coming out like a squeal. “Count me in.”

Cyrus steps out, the brightness of his phone lighting up the dim closet, and leaves Andi alone, still against the wall.

Alone.

In the closet.

Andi nearly throws her phone across the room.

————

There are three parks in downtown Shadyside: the tiny one off the elementary school, the Valley Park where legend says a swamp monster lives, and Agley Park. Agley is where coffee shop people go to be in nature; it’s also, incidentally, Walker’s favorite place in town. The Saturday morning is crisp, with light winter fog in the air, and Agley looks like the rolling fields and forests of some picturesque Scottish village. The only piece of color barring the serenity is the hunk of metal in the middle of one of the squares; that hunk of metal, though, is what has drawn Walker downtown this early on a Saturday.

“It’s kind of… underwhelming?”

Walker ignores the voice to his right and keeps reading the printed plaque beneath the statue. Installed four weeks ago, reads the monotone font, the Rest of Infinity display serves as a reminder to all viewers of the eternity of space and its never-ending mystery. The 20-foot tall sculpture contains seventeen rotating pieces and thousands of tiny gears. The reflective paints were mixed by the artist herself, and the glass portions were blown by her as well. Walker is aching to reach for a sketchbook and draw it, but he promised himself that this time he would just look. So he does.

After a while, the same voice cuts in. “So maybe I’m starting to see why Cyrus can be such a science nerd sometimes…”

Walker looks over his shoulder at Amber Kippen, who is wearing a faux leather skirt and carrying a latte. They were in the same studio class—much to Walker’s chagrin at first, who had found Amber’s eclectic, relaxed approach to art to be flighty. But when Amber’s realism came out looking like a photographic negative, and when her paints were soft pastels that fit perfectly into her nature theme, then Walker decided to give up on judging before he knew things.

And now, lo and behold, Walker and Amber were visiting an art exhibition outside of school. Together. For fun.

“I really like the colors on the back few layers,” Walker says finally, and his voice sounds gravelly from lack of use. “And the way the black pieces spiral to infinity first, with the smaller pieces following behind.”

Amber nods, and Walker notes that she’s not really listening. “Do yo know who would love this?”

“Yeah?” Walker does know, because there’s only ever one right answer. But he holds off.

“Iris.”

Amber’s eyes get dreamy when she’s talking about Iris, her crush of many a year. Walker recognizes the look because it’s the look he used to see on Andi’s face when talking about Jonah. Buffy’s face when talking about Marty. The faces of people in love with someone else, not him.

“I’m sure she would, Her photography project is so cool, maybe she could take pictures of the statue—“

“I think I need to ask her to the dance,” Amber says suddenly. “It’s now or never, right? Senior year will be too late. It’s got to be now.” “What dance?”

Amber looks shocked, offended, horrified, embarrassed—everything on the list—that Walker is unaware of said dance. “Uh, Grant’s Valentine’s Day Dance. On account of the fact that Kip Warren and the dance team girls want prom to not be in someone’s basement this year. But Iris!”

Walker considers this, as they start to walk away from the statue and back toward Amber’s car. He listens to Amber’s list of reasons: “We texted all last night, and she ended with a heart, not me. We’ve held hands twice and been to four movies alone together. Her eyes are the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, and her bangs are so nice and her smile…”

In his head, Walker wants to make a comparison to something he’s feeling for another person. But he won’t let himself. Pretty eyes…hanging out alone together. His breath is catching, and Amber’s voice fades a little in the background. And that dance…

“Walker? Walker!” Startled out of a daydream, Walker feels Amber’s arm in front of his chest and suddenly sees the curb drop away in front of him. “Absent-minded much?”

“Call it an artist’s trait,” Walker says dizzily. He can’t stop thinking about the crush—shit, a crush—and it’s like the world is falling to pieces. It can’t be real, not over one movie and an air hockey game and a couple walks home from school. Maybe if he doesn’t think it, then it won’t be real. 

“Walker.” Amber’s statement pulls him completely back to the surface, where he faces Amber’s scrutinizing gaze. “Are you going to ask anyone to the dance?”

Oh no. Walker opens his mouth to say something, and then doesn’t. They keep walking, but Amber’s eyes are staring him down with all the intensity she used to have as Grant’s resident mean girl. It’s the look she gets when she sees something she wants—or wants to know—and will do anything to get it.

“Um.”

“Um? Don’t give me that, Walker Brodsky. I spill my guts to you about Iris regularly. Now it’s your turn: who’s your crush?”

Walker blushes, reaching above his head to tug on a tree branch. “Amber, I—“

There’s a small voice in Walker’s head, and it’s trying to overcome the wave of anxiety he has about this situation. The voice is saying: Amber will understand.

Amber, who came out as lesbian when she was a freshman in high school. Amber, who goes to the LGBT alliance and activism meetings on a regular basis and cites it as her most important extracurricular, even more than dance or studio. Amber, who cries while listening to Heaven by Troye Sivan. Amber, who is staring at him right now with her Annabeth Chase-esque gray eyes and inquisitorial eyebrow raise. Amber, who has dated—

“Jonah.”

Amber doesn’t miss a beat, but Walker is already dizzy from the weight of the word. 

“Jonah! Of all the people at school, you chose Mr. Heartbreak himself?”

“Um.”

Jonah is Mr. Heartbreak, isn’t he? Walker thinks of Andi, and the disaster that was the final six months of her and Jonah’s relationship. Jonah, who Andi always like more than him. Jonah Beck, who Walker first met at the art gallery, and then at the color factory, and then at canoeing. A couple months ago Walker ran into Jonah outside the skate shop, and they ended up making plans to see a movie in town they both wanted to see. Then, Walker started seeing Jonah more at school, and they were partners on a Bio assignment. The events keep spilling over themselves in his mind, and Walker feels two things: one, feelings. A crush. Like he had on Andi. The second thing is what has been washing over him for months and what kept him from telling Amber in the first place: he’s scared. 

“Yeah,” Walker says, just to affirm it. “I like Jonah.” And there it is, again, the feeling in his chest of relief and anxiety all at once.

Amber nods as the rolling park ends and she clicks her key fob in the general direction of her station wagon. “Okay. Well, considering I’ve dated him, I’m probably authorized to give some advice—“

“No, Amber. He’s not even into guys; there’s no use thinking about it.” Walker slides into the passenger seat and takes out his phone from the glove box to start typing out notes about the statue.

“Walker, you never know. I mean, he’s never said that he does like boys, but he’s never said that he doesn’t—“

“That’s useless,” Walker says, keeping his eyes trained on his phone. “He’s straight, whatever. Let’s go home.” “Don’t play this card. You’re not the first person to fall for someone who you think is straight, and you won’t be the last, not by a long shot. Guess what? Jonah hasn’t said that he’s straight. So you have a chance. Don’t waste it.” Amber’s voice gets quiet at the end, as the grips the wheel of the still-parked car. Walker thinks of Iris, and he sees the pain of pining in Amber’s eyes. 

“Hey,” he says softly. “You can’t give up either.”

She shakes her head. “Yeah, whatever.” She sounds just like Walker did moments ago, but Walker doesn’t push.

“So…do you still want to give me some advice on Jonah Beck?”

Amber starts to laugh, and she reaches across to give him a shove. “Of course, Walker Brodsky. Of course.”

————

“Heads up!”

Buffy runs in anyway and snags the rebound away from TJ. She brings the ball back to the top of the key, eyebrows poised in challenge, and checks the ball to him. Then she pounds it into the floor, slipping beside TJ to get in an easy layup.

“That’s 18 to 17,” Buffy pants as TJ sets it back up.

“Careful, Driscoll, don’t get too confident,” TJ warns, crossing the ball to take a shot from just inside the three-point line. The ball circles the rim, achingly close to the net, but rolls back out and sinks to the court.

“Missed me, missed me, now you got to—“ TJ interrupts Buffy’s taunt with a shove, and Buffy laughs as she grabs the ball and shoves it back into his hands. 

“I will not,” TJ says, “allow you to complete that sentence.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Buffy laughs. “Don’t worry, I have no interest.”

“Good,” TJ asserts, and his next shot is nothing but net.

Three points later and Buffy has won the game, but they don’t keep score, shockingly. One-on-one has become a daily occurrence after their respective practices, because TJ has to wait for rehearsal to end to drive Cyrus home anyways. Cyrus tried to convince him that he could just go home on the late bus, but TJ has insisted.

“Ready for next Friday?” Buffy asks, once they’re done playing and are just dribbling around. 

“I hope,” TJ says, chucking the ball up with zero regard. Buffy catches it and looks over at him.

“You better be ready for Valentine’s Day. I know Cyrus is excited.”

TJ does a double take, and Buffy laughs like she’s caught him unaware. “Well, yeah I’m ready for Valentine’s Day. Or I will be. But the game—“ “Screw the game,” Buffy says, and drives the basketball into the ground. “I mean—sorry. Screw my game, not yours.”

“What’s up? How’s the team doing?” TJ holds his hands out, and she throws it at him. He’s always tried to be somewhat lenient towards Buffy in her captaining, because he knows it must be hard carrying the girls basketball program on her shoulders. When they came to Grant, Buffy had to leave behind her newly-founded middle school team for a program that’s only improvement on Jefferson’s was the fact that it was school-mandated. The past few years Buffy has been constantly trying to mend a rivalry with Kira while simultaneously attempting to take the team to the next level.

“We’re doing alright. But we’ll be playing teams in the region tournament that have AAU girls and are state-ranked. I don’t want to get eliminated in the first round, but that looks like what we’ll be getting. And I’m trying to deal with Kira, but I really can’t—“ Buffy stops.

TJ shakes his head. “You can’t be so hard on yourself, Buffy. Regionals is a hard tournament, and it’s okay if you guys—“

“No! It’s not,” Buffy shouts, and her eyes flash. TJ steps back, because this is starting to feel too much like middle school. “I have to do well, and you don’t get to talk to me like that. Why don’t you talk to me like you would a teammate—“ Buffy stops.

TJ knows some people think Buffy can be harsh, but she’s harder on herself than she is on anyone else. The thing about being friends with her is never knowing exactly how to handle it. If Cyrus were here, he would know, but Cyrus is onstage pretending to be Lysander from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

“If you were my teammate, I would tell you to stop worrying and play the game. It goes how it goes. And I’d tell you to get along with Kira. You have to,” TJ says.

“Yeah,” Buffy breathes. “Sorry. Now pass me the ball.”

TJ obliges, and she dribbles in for a layup. He doesn’t know if he handled it right; but, he did something. Which is better than nothing. Now back to the matter at hand.

“So, Driscoll,” he calls. “What else has Cyrus said about Valentine’s Day?”

“That’s not for me to tell,” Buffy shrugs, starting to smile. “But I hope you’re taking him to the dance.”

“Uh, what kind of boyfriend do you think I am? Of course we’re going.”

“Alright, good,” Buffy says, taking a jump shot. 

“And,” TJ says, excitedly, “It’ll actually be fun. We’ve got the games, which everyone is coming to, and then the dance in the gym. Cyrus is coming over after, and we’re going to bake cookies and watch a movie—“ “Okayyy, I do not need to hear about your big date,” Buffy cuts in. TJ bites the insides of his cheeks so she won’t blush, because he had been planning a sort of date with Cyrus. But Buffy doesn’t need to know that. “But you’re right, it’ll be sweet. If your idea of romance is dancing in a sweaty gym in the dark.” TJ, who had been jogging back from the ball rack where he put away the basketball, stops to put his hands on his hips. “While you may be a cynical human being, Cyrus is a romantic—“

“So are you, TJ Kippen, don’t even try.”

“I refuse to acknowledge that statement. Buffy, you must come to the dance. It’s a part of the high school experience: the big game and then the sweaty prom.”

“Sweaty prom.”

“Sweaty prom!” TJ yells and does a spin around the gym. It’s exhilarating, he thinks, to have caring friends and a team he love to be on and a boyfriend who likes him back and has for over a year. And speaking of said boyfriend—

Cyrus enters the gym, and they both hear his hard-soled theater shoes from across the room. 

“Cyrus!” Buffy shouts, and runs over to him. TJ follows. “Save me from TJ, he’s trying to force me to go to… wait for it… the dance!”

Cyrus snorts, and swings his drawstring bag over his shoulder. “TJ, are these accusations trustworthy?”

“Very,” TJ says, pulling in Cyrus under his arm.

“In that case, I support them. Buffy, we need you to go the dance! Who else will ridicule their music choices and teach Gus how to do the cha cha slide?” “First of all, the instructions are in the song. Second of all—“ Buffy’s phone dings from inside her pocket, and she stops immediately to check it. TJ raises his eyebrows at her as she frowns at the tiny screen, then stops frowning and smiles a tiny bit. TJ runs through in his mind who it could’ve been—not Marty, who Buffy parted with freshman year. He shrugs it off—a mystery for another time.

“Got to go,” Buffy says, and rushes off to the locker room. 

“Buffy,” Cyrus calls, then shakes his head. “She’s been weird lately. I’m not sure what’s up.”

TJ nods absentmindedly, then turns to Cyrus. “How was rehearsal?”

Cyrus’s eyes go wide. “Some freshman dropped a set piece on Amber and she broke her pinky!”

“WHAT.” TJ feels his voice get quiet.

“Yeah, it’s okay though, it’ll be healed in two weeks. Show isn’t for another month. She said it feels fine.” “Fucking—sorry, fricking—freshman. Idiots, all of them,” TJ says, pulling Cyrus by the hand over to the bleachers so he can grab his bag.

“Can’t argue with that,” Cyrus shrugs, and they start to head to TJ’s car.  “Oh, and Amber told me to tell you she’s staying out late tonight, so don’t wait up for her.”

“She’s going out with a broken pinky?”

“She’s got a tiny cast; she’ll be alright.” TJ squints, unconvinced. “Anyways, how was your practice?”

TJ pulls Cyrus against his side. “The usual, you know. You’re bringing the whole gang out to the games on the 14th, right?”

He nods and wraps his arm around TJ’s waist. “I can’t wait.” Then he does that Cyrus-smile: with his lips upturned to his cheeks, and his eyes intense. “It’s Valentine’s Day too, you know,” he says sweetly.

“Oh, trust me,” TJ says. He puts both his arms on Cyrus’s shoulders and pulls him into a kiss. “I know.” Cyrus blushes when he pulls away, and TJ spins him towards the car.

“Movie tonight?” Cyrus asks. TJ bites his lip, then shakes his head.

“I wish. I’ve got precalc homework which is going to take me approximately four hours,” TJ says, slipping into the drivers’ seat. “Ms. Walters is evil, I swear.”

“I’ll be sending good luck in your direction,” Cyrus says as he buckles his seatbelt. TJ drives to Cyrus’s house, and on the way they listen to Billie Eilish and discuss the day’s events, their feelings towards pineapples, and Degrassi, their show. By the time TJ pulls into Cyrus’s driveway, it’s gotten dark and Cyrus’s eyelids are slipping closed. TJ smiles over at him and bops his nose with his index finger. Cyrus blinks awake, focuses on the house, and smiles a sleepy smile. Struck, as he is daily, by how cute Cyrus is, TJ leans across the seat and kisses him. Cyrus takes TJ’s hand, squeezes it, and tumbles out the door with his bags.

“See you tomorrow, underdog!” Cyrus turns to wave back at him, and TJ can still see the soft smile on his face.

As he drives away, TJ stops at the intersection that breaks off back to the Kippen house, and he takes a left instead of a right. He thinks about Cyrus’s excitement over Valentine’s Day and the dance as he pulls into the Target parking lot. Cyrus Goodman, he thinks, his own smile filling his features, you deserve the world.

[starkburst]

A Dangerous Game : Prologue

Summary: In which a game leads to a dare that forces you to spend time with the one you hate the most.

————

Highschool AU

Pairing: Junior!Loki x Junior!Reader

(for non-americans: juniors are generally 16-17 year olds in their 11th year of the american 12 year education system)

Warnings: None, and tbh I don’t really think there will be any for majority of this series.

Word Count: 1,102

————

A/N: This is my first fic and I hope you guys like it. I’ve had this idea for a month or so now and finally decided to make it into an original story. There’s going to be multiple parts for this fic.

Publishing Date: February 19, 2018

“Here’s your change,” the lunch lady said kindly. You muttered a ‘thank you’ before looking for your friends’ table.

It wasn’t difficult to find it. Your friends were easily the loudest people in the lunchroom. You smiled widely when you heard their roaring laughter.

James Buchanan Barnes, the ladies’ man of the school and a close friend of yours, saw you first. He grinned and waved for you to come over.

“Y/N! What took you so long? We just started a new game!” James, or Bucky as his friends liked to call him, patted the empty space next to him for you to sit down.

You smirked and sat next to him, placing your food onto the table while shrugging off your backpack, “And what game are we playing exactly?”

Wanda Maximoff, your best friend and the second most cunning person you knew, wiggled her eyebrows, “Truth or Dare! High-stakes edition.” She took a sip of her juice without breaking eye contact with you.

You gave her a confused look, “What exactly does that mean?” Steve Rogers, the most innocent and shy of your friend group, spoke up next.

“It means that for every question you don’t answer or for every dare you won’t do, you give each of us some money, depending on how daring or deep the dare or question is.” He smiled kindly, and you could tell by the defeated look in his eyes that he had already lost some money.

You took a bite out of your pear and shrugged, “Great, let’s start.” Natasha Romanov, the badass of your group and the most cunning person you knew, spoke up first.

“I’m starting!” She looked at Bucky with a glint in her eye, “Mr. Barnes, would you like a truth or a dare?”

Bucky giggled, “A dare. I’m feeling dangerous.”

Natasha pushed herself back from the table while grunting, “Alright, I dare you to,” she closed her eyes, “dance on the table for a solid minute. Two bucks if you’re unwilling.”

Bucky groaned, “Fine, but not country. I refuse.”

“Two bucks it is then!”

“Damnit, I shouldn’t have said anything.” He moaned as he climbed onto the table. Natasha began to play 'Pistol Packin’ Mama’ by Bill Crosby and The Andrews Sisters. She cheered and clapped her hands. You laughed as Bucky spun around and danced, waving an invisible lasso in the air.

“Mr. Barnes! Get off that table this instant! Do you have no manners?” Ms. Hill, the principal of the school, scolded him as he sat back down, “Next time you pull a stunt like that it’s detention. Understood?”

Bucky smiled and raised his hands up in surrender, “Understood Ms. Hill.” Bucky turned towards you as she walked away, “I choose this lovely lady as the recipient of the next truth or dare.”

You held a hand to your chest, feigning flattery. “Why thank you Mr. Barnes. I’d like a dare please.”

Just as Bucky opened his mouth a voice yelled, “Steal!” You looked across the table to Thor Odinson, the most respectable and loyal of your group. He had been quiet since you got to the table.

You raised an eyebrow suspiciously, “You can do that?” This version of 'Truth or Dare’ was confusing, and you were slightly scared for whatever dare Thor wanted to give you.

Wanda raised her hands, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a steal!” She looked towards Bucky, “What do you say Bucky? Will you let Thor control Y/N’s fate?” Bucky nodded and looked towards Thor.

Thor grinned wickedly, golden hair framing his face, “Y/N, I dare you to sit with my brother, Loki Laufeyson, once a week for the rest of the school year.”

The entire table grew quiet. Every person’s face displayed a look of shock.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “What? No I can’t do that. That’s not fair.” Everyone at the table knew you hated Loki. Unlike Thor, Loki was anything but kind. Loki was mischievous and rude. He had bullied you since elementary school, and only stopped when you got closer with Bucky and Steve, who wouldn’t tolerate it. You would take any other dare but not one like this.

You looked towards Wanda, “Wanda, that’s against the rules right? You can’t do that?” Your eyes pleaded with her.

Bruce Banner, Natasha’s boyfriend and one of the smartest people you knew, decided to comment. “Actually Y/N, that’s completely allowed. We never made any rules before starting, which means that any truth or dare is fair game.”

You looked at each person frantically, “But guys I can’t do that! We won’t even talk to each other!” Each face had a look of helplessness. They couldn’t do anything. Except Thor.

You pleaded with him, “Thor, don’t make me do this. You know how much we can’t stand each other.”

Thor shrugged, his grin still clearly visible. “Sorry Y/N, a dare’s a dare. Unless, of course, you’re willing to pay for exit.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. You already expressed how much you didn’t want to do the dare. How much were they going to make you pay?

Pulling your wallet out of your backpack you asked him, “How much?”

Thor was quiet for a second before answering, “A dollar for each week of school there is left.” Your face dropped. It was the middle of April, and roughly eight weeks remained until the last day of school. You definitely could not give each person at the table eight dollars.

“Come on Thor, don’t you think that’s a lot?” Bucky gave you a reassuring smile, but you didn’t think he could get you out of the dare.

Tony Stark, one of the most rich and spoiled people you knew, spoke up. “Actually Bucky, it’s completely fair. Thor gets to decide the price.” He shrugged.

You glared at Thor and growled, “You’ll pay for this Odinson.” Stuffing your apple into your backpack, you stood up from the table.

Steve reached up and ruffled your hair, “Don’t worry, Y/N, it probably won’t be that bad.” You doubted it.

You stepped over the bench and threw out your food before looking around the cafeteria for Loki’s table.

When you found him, you weren’t surprised where he sat. He was at the table closest to the back right corner by himself. A book in his left hand and a pear in his right, he was completely oblivious to the rest of the lunchroom.

You huffed and headed towards his table. This dare was going to be the end of you. How long were you going to last?

----

[Part 1: A Bad Beginning]

[divinebird]

and many more

pairing: sheith (shiro/keith) wc: 3,900 note: happy birthday to me and happy birthday to shiro. i love him! with all my heart! and i wanted him to be happy! so i wrote this. also because i wanted keith to hold his hand. summary: Shiro's birthday: in space.

{ AO3 }

They manage to get a digital Earth calendar working, displaying it on a wall in the dining room so everyone can see. It’s only February, nearing the end of the month, and Shiro plans to age another year quietly (and, he supposes, with Keith).

That is, until, the others find out.

“Hey Shiro,” Pidge asks one day. “When is your birthday?”

“I don’t have one.” Shiro says.

Keith, without looking up from the tablet he’s using, also answers. “His birthday is on the 29th. He’s a leap year baby.”

Shiro looks at him, betrayed. Keith meets his gaze and flips him off.

“Oh! Then we have time to plan!” Pidge exclaims and when he looks back to her he sees that she looks delighted at the thought. “I have to go tell the others!” She then sets her laptop aside and rushes out the door.

“You don’t have one, huh?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Shiro replies, walking over and sitting down next to him. “It’s the first thing that came to mind.”

“They would have found out eventually,” Keith says with an amused smile. “Aren't you the one who's always saying we should trust each other with these things? Because we’re a team?”

“I don’t see you telling them when your birthday is.” He grumbles, huffing when Keith simply laughs. Shiro leans against him until Keith moves the tablet out of the way and then he shifts until he’s lying down, his head on Keith’s lap. “I just don’t want them to make a big deal out of it...”

Fingers brush against his cheek before they start running through his forelock, gentle and soothing. He closes his eyes as he relaxes even further, letting out a content sigh.

“It’s not a big deal to them, Shiro. You’re their friend, of course they want to make your birthday special. I did the same, remember? I wanted to make it the best day for you, because you deserve it. They probably feel the same.”

Shiro doesn't reply, only nodding once to show that he understands. Keith hums, as if satisfied with that. He never really liked celebrating his birthday the older he got but he thinks it might be nice, surrounded by the people he cares about most.

They fall into a comfortable silence, Shiro nearly dozing off because of Keith’s actions. He leans into his touch when Keith brushes a thumb across his eyebrows, smiling at the small laugh Keith lets out.

“Can I still spend some time with you?” Shiro asks, opening his eyes. “Before or after whatever they're planning, I mean.”

Keith gazes down at him, eyes warm and smile soft. “Of course.”

☆

Everyone seems busy the days after that, showing up for training and food before disappearing once again. Shiro would normally be concerned but he knows they must be working on something for his party (Pidge had said it would be) so he left them alone.

It’s not strange to see Pidge, Hunk, and Lance working on something together—Coran joining in on occasion as well.

The day before his birthday he wakes up alone and stares up at the ceiling, wondering why Keith didn’t wake him up. He gets out of bed, pulling on his clothes and leaving the room to search for him.

Shiro finds Keith on the Bridge chatting with Allura, voices hushed and heads bent close together. Allura suddenly lights up and nods along to something Keith is saying, raising one of her hands up high. He watches a smile blossom on Keith’s face, looking relieved as he nods as well.

He leaves them be and wanders back to his room, deciding to try and get some extra rest in; fingers of his human hand dragging along the wall as he walks. After he’s sitting back on his bed, ready to lay down, the door opens again and there stands Keith.

Keith smiles at him. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” Shiro replies, smiling back at him.

He walks into the room and when he’s close enough Shiro wraps his arms around his middle, pulling him down on the bed with him as he falls back. Keith laughs, adjusting until he’s resting on top of Shiro.

“You good?” Keith asks with a hint of worry in his eyes. When Shiro nods it disappears, relief taking its place. He then shifts some more, head on Shiro’s chest. “Wanna stay like this until lunch?”

“Shouldn’t we change back into pajamas, then?”

“We’ll just be ready for later this way.”

Running his fingers through Keith’s hair, Shiro nods. “Makes sense.” He continues playing with Keith’s hair, growing warmer when he feels Keith nuzzle against him. “You seem tired.”

“Kinda am, been doing a lot recently.” He murmurs and Shiro catches the faint quirk of his lip. “Something about a party for our very important leader’s birthday.”

“Wonder who that could be,” Shiro says thoughtfully, tightening his hold around Keith. “I’m sure they’ll enjoy it, especially if they get a kiss from someone special.”

He gets a small ha in response to that and nearly pouts. “Really? No kiss? I’m devastated. I can’t go on. Looks like I’ll be gone before my birthday, what a shame.”

“Tragic.” Keith deadpans, but he still leans up to press a kiss to Shiro’s cheek. “There we go, you got your kiss. Tomorrow you can have some more, deal?”

“Will I still get some now?”

“Would you look at that,” Keith says, putting his head back down. “I’m suddenly really tired again. Guess I’ll have to go back to sleep, using you as my pillow.”

“Keith!”

He gets laughed at, of course, but he does get another kiss on his cheek and then one on his lips right after so it doesn’t really matter in the end.

☆

“No peeking!”

“You tied a shirt around my eyes,” Shiro says, amused. “How am I going to peek?”

“You’d find away.”

Pidge and Lance are the ones who are pulling him down the halls, both of them being his eyes for the time being. He feels himself smiling, excitement unfurling in his chest. They force him to stop suddenly, the three of them nearly falling over from the sudden change, and he feels doors open in front of him.

“Take one step forward,” Pidge directs in a soft voice and he does exactly that, stilling when they let go of him. “Now, take off your blindfold.”

He unties the shirt, blinking until everything comes into focus.

There’s a large banner hanging from the ceiling, a colorful ‘Happy Birthday!’ written on it. His team, his friends, are standing underneath it with large smiles on their faces—Keith is the only one seated, his own smile smaller than theirs. He steps closer, chuckling when they circle around him in a group hug.

“Thanks everyone.” He says warmly. “This means a lot.”

“No problem,” Lance replies as they all break away from Shiro, face bright. “We wanted to do this for you, Shiro. Even if your birthday technically doesn’t exist this year, I think you should be allowed to have a party.”

“I even baked you a cake!” Hunk exclaims with enthusiasm, giving Shiro another hug as he passes by. “I’m going to go get it now! Wait here!” He rushes off before Shiro can say anything so he simply shrugs, walking over to where Keith is sitting and taking a seat beside him.

A hand brushes against his metal one, no hesitation in the touch, and links their pinkies together. He glances over at Keith, who only offers a small quirk of his lips. Shiro intertwines their fingers, enjoying the way Keith’s eyes light up at the action. He gives his hand a squeeze, feeling something in his chest settle when Keith does the same.

“Alright Shiro, here it is!”

Hunk enters the room holding a tray, slowly making his way over to the table Shiro’s at and placing it in front of him. The cake is a dark purple, frosting a lighter shade of purple writing out Happy Birthday Shiro across it. There are even small designs around the letters and when he leans in closer he realizes it’s actually the team with their lions, as well as Allura and Coran.

“I was limited, of course, but I did the best I could.”

“I love it.” He says, glancing up at Hunk who beams in response. “Thank you so much.”

The others come closer, standing on the other side of the table with the same looks of anticipation.

“Are we ready to sing?” Allura asks, looking both curious and excited. “Pidge taught me the words, I hope I get them right.”

“If we can’t,” Coran adds, the same expression on his face. “Then we’ll improvise. As long as we carry the tune then I’d say we’re in the clear!”

They start only seconds after and Shiro can’t stop smiling. A small laugh escapes at how both Allura and Coran stumble over the words, an intense look of concentration on their faces. Lance seems to be trying his best to sing the loudest while Pidge goes slower than the rest. Hunk and Keith are the only ones who manage to keep their voice steady.

Shiro laughs again when they all clap for him, feeling lighter than he’s ever felt. Hunk holds out a knife but Shiro shakes his head, not wanting to let go of Keith’s hand.

“You’ll probably cut it better than I can.” He says when Hunk hesitates. “Just make sure I get the piece with Black and I.”

Hunk offers a salute, knife still in hand. “Can do.”

He gets his slice of cake a moment later and he finds himself smiling again at the image of his small face right next to Black, drawn in frosting. He’s about to break a piece off when Lance sits down in a seat across from him, capturing his attention.

“There were no candles but you can still make a wish,” Lance tells him, a teasing glint to his eyes. “Sucks that there wasn’t anything like them in the castle, it would have been great to see your face.”

“Why?”

“I would have put six, since you’re a leap year baby.”

Shiro sighs.

Lance’s laughter is loud and carefree, grin lingering. “I’m kidding, I wouldn’t do that. Probably.” He takes a plate of cake from Hunk and Shiro watches his expression grow softer as he looks down at it; his piece has himself and Blue on it. “Anyways, happy birthday. I know out in space in an alien castle isn’t the ideal place to celebrate but I hope it’s been good for you.”

He scans the room, noting how untroubled and cheery everyone looks. His gaze stops at Keith, who’s talking to Hunk with a tiny smile on his face while still holding his hand. Shiro finds that he’s smiling again as he thinks of the family he’s made out here and how close they’ve all gotten. “Yeah,” He says, looking at Lance. “I’d say it is, so far.”

Pidge pulls Lance and Hunk away immediately after that, the three of them sitting with Allura and Coran only a few seats away from them. He looks down at his piece of cake, a bit wary to try it. It’s made out of alien ingredients so who knows what it might taste like.

“Come on, birthday boy. You have to eat your own cake.” Keith is watching him with an amused look on his face, his own slice missing a corner.

“How does it taste?” Shiro asks curiously.

“Find out for yourself.”

He hesitates for only a couple of seconds before shrugging and breaking off a small piece from his own, popping it into his mouth. The flavor hits instantly, tangy that leaves behind a lingering sweetness, and he blinks in surprise. “Huh,” he says as he uses his fork to get a bigger piece. “Tastes good.”

“Your definition of good is very different from mine,” Keith tells him. He is still eating the cake, though, and when Shiro raises an eyebrow in question he shrugs. “I don’t want Hunk to think it’s bad. It is good, I can tell, I’m just not a fan of the flavor.” He pauses as he takes another bite, nose wrinkling only a bit. “Better than what I’ve had on Earth, at least.”

“Reminds me of lemon cake,” Shiro says with a shrug, finishing the rest of it. Loud laughter causes him to look over at the rest, watching as they all hover over something. He gets once glance at it, cube shaped and dark colored, before his view is blocked. “Wonder what they’re doing.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He looks at Keith, suspicious. “Is it something for me?”

Keith smiles at him innocently. “Like I said, don’t worry about it.” He also finishes off the rest of his cake, eating slower than Shiro did before pushing his chair away from the table.

Shiro looks up at him when he stands, trying not to show how confused he is. “Are you going somewhere?” He pauses. “Are we going somewhere?”

“I want to show you something.” The look he gets from Keith is almost shy, cheeks dusted with a hint of pink as he stands there. “Right now would be a good time to see it.”

That sounds like the best idea, only because he’ll get to spent some time with Keith and only Keith just like he wanted. Instead of answering he stands up and smiles when Keith directs one of his own at Shiro. They start walking towards the doors, Shiro following Keith.

“Come back soon,” Pidge calls out as they leave. “The party still isn’t over, we’ve got one last thing to do.” She turns back to the table, where he gets only a small glimpse of the object (which has somehow started to glow) before the doors shut.

They start walking down the hall, Keith leading the way. When he glances over he catches the smug expression on his face, which disappears when their eyes meet. “It’s a gift, right? What did they get me?”

“Don’t be impatient, Shirogane.” Keith chides lightly as they turn left, the hallway having only one door at the end of it. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

He doesn’t pout but he’s close to doing it.

They stop in front of the door and Shiro watches as Keith takes a deep breath before he opens it. He walks in first, Shiro right behind him. The room they enter is bigger than the ones he’s seen in the castle so far, with large windows that easily show off the stars.

Keith brings him over to the small steps that are a few feet away from the windows, pulling him down as he sits.

“We did this for your birthday before Kerberos, remember? We sat underneath the stars on top of the Garrison roof.” Keith says quietly, and Shiro feels his weight against his side. “This time, we’re right next to them.”

“I remember.” says Shiro, just as quietly. “Sometimes, when we weren’t busy with out work, I’d look up at the stars and hope that you were doing the same back on Earth. It made things a little less lonelier.”

“You had the Holts.”

“I did, yeah, but they weren’t you.”

“You missed me.” Keith’s tone is light, almost teasing, but Shiro can hear the question underneath.

Shiro shifts until he’s facing Keith, waiting for him to do the same. They’re still holding hands, so he gives it a light squeeze and meets his gaze. “Of course,” he murmurs, leaning in and brushing their noses together. “I missed you on Kerberos and I missed you when the—” he swallows, taking a deep breath. “—when the Galra had me.”

The small hitch of Keith’s breath causes him to lean back, lips twitching at the surprise he sees on his face. It’s the same reaction Keith always has whenever Shiro expresses his love, like he can’t believe someone could ever say it to him. He remembers, before, when it took so long to convince Keith that he actually meant it and he’s glad there’s no longer any disbelief in his eyes; the surprise melting away to the same adoration he feels.

He leans in again, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Thank you for this,” he murmurs, eyes flicking to the windows. “Now we can keep coming here, look at the stars like we used to.”

“We don’t know these constellations.” Keith replies, and Shiro feels a small brush of lips against his own.

“We can learn them.” Shiro promises, letting go of Keith’s hand to place it on his cheek. This kiss is softer, his attempt at conveying how much he loves Keith through actions rather than words. The message seems to be understood, because he feels a smile against his lips. He finds himself smiling too as the kiss turns from one to multiple.

Eventually they break apart, Keith pressing their foreheads together. He can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, words full of nothing but fondness. “Happy Birthday, Shiro.”

They continue to sit close together for a long while, the unfamiliar stars shining brightly outside the windows. The feel of Keith’s lips against his own, still tasting like the citrus flavored cake they had, makes it all perfect.

☆

The moment they step through the doors a flash goes off, causing Shiro to blink away the spots in his vision. Pidge stands in front of him, grinning down at the cube in her hands.

“It works!” She crows, doing little hops in place. “This is your gift!” She presses a button on the side and a picture is displayed holographically, Shiro and Keith wide eyed with surprise. “A camera! It can only display one image at a time but you can choose which one it can be.”

Shiro takes it from her and looks down at it with a smile. “Thank you, Pidge.” He says, pulling her in for a hug. She hugs him back eagerly and he laughs when she attempts to squeeze him. “A group picture would be nice to look at.”

“Then we’ll take one,” she says with a nod as she steps back. “Come over to the couch, Allura and Coran have something to show us.” There’s a knowing smile on her face and he has to stop himself from asking about it.

Keith leans against him the moment they sit down and Shiro wraps an arm around his shoulders. Hunk and Lance sit down on the floor while Pidge sits on the other end of the couch, curling up on her side. Allura and Coran are fiddling with someone on the wall until Allura claps and rushes to take a seat as well, Coran following her only seconds after.

“It’ll be on in just a tick,” he tells everyone. Shiro doesn’t even have to wonder what is happening because a screen comes down from the ceiling, an image flickering to life on it.

“We’re watching a movie?”

“Yes!” Allura answers excitedly. “We’re going to show you one of the Altean movies that were around when I was young, all of the children loved it! The others chose a movie from Earth to watch afterwards as well, so hopefully you’ll enjoy this night together.”

He’s already grinning. “I definitely will.”

The lights dim as the movie starts, pulling his attention away from her. He glances at everyone, taking in their curious and eager looks, before settling back against the couch—the same feelings blossoming within him.

Shiro and his friends, his family, watch the movies together; the best way to end his birthday.

☆

“So that’s Star Wars, huh.” Keith says when they’re back in his room, their backs pressed against the wall where the bed is. “Now I understand why so many people still love it, despite the fact that it’s really old.”

“Am I witnessing the birth of a Star Wars fan?” Shiro teases, laughing when Keith elbows him. “What surprised me was the Altean movie. It was really funny but I’m still not sure what the plot was.”

“Isn’t that the point of most movies?”

“Guess so.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, Keith playing with his fingers and Shiro watching him. His birthday is pretty much over at this point and, when he thinks about the party and how happy everyone was for him, it might have been his favorite one.

Shiro sniffs.

“Are you crying?” Keith asks, concern in his voice. He feels hands cup his cheeks, thumbs rubbing the tears away as they start to leak out. “Happy tears?”

“Yeah,” he answers, voice low. “I was feeling a bit overwhelmed, suddenly, with the reminder that everyone…” He trails off, sniffing again.

“Loves you?” Keith finishes for him, a soft smile on his face that he manages to see through his blurry vision. “It’s true, they do love you.” A pause. “I love you.”

He feels himself tremble but his lips still curl upwards, leaning forward to press his lips to Keith. “Love you back.” He breathes out before lying down on the bed. Keith does the same thing only seconds later and he shifts so they can face each other. Keith smooths his hair back, touch gentle and calm.

“Do you need anything else?”

“Just you.”

Keith says nothing more, occasionally kissing his forehead. He hears something clatter to the side of them and lifts his head curiously. The camera that Pidge made rests in Keith’s hands, displaying the photo the group had taken after the movie—all seven of them smiling without a care in the world. Keith presses a button and a different one is displayed, the one of Shiro and Keith when they walked into the room.

“We should take a better one,” Keith says softly, sitting up in bed. “Because you’ll end up wanting a picture of us to look at every day.”

“I had one at the Garrison,” Shiro says, also sitting up. He wipes at his eyes, hoping they don’t look too awful. “It’s only fair if I have one out here too.”

Shiro watches Keith fiddle with the cube for only a few short seconds before he presses another button. It floats, moving away from them and staying in the air a few feet away from them.

He feels Keith cheek against his own and puts on a smile as the bot counts down in a sequence of beeps. There’s the pressure of a hand on his other cheek, forcing him to face Keith rather than the camera. Keith’s eyes light, a hint of a smile on his face as he leans in and kisses him. Shiro doesn’t hesitate, kissing him back and smiling as he does it.

The flash goes off, camera falling onto the bed, but he doesn’t part from Keith.

This is where I want to be. Shiro thinks to himself as Keith straddles his lap. Hands slip beneath his shirt, spreading heat through his body with every brush of his fingers. This is where I want to stay.

☆

“What did you wish for?

“Hmm?”

“When Lance said you could still make a wish, what did you wish for?”

“I didn’t even bother making one.”

“Why not?”

“We’re all alive right now and you’re still right beside me. What more can I ask for?”