#a green and his two red buddies that are somehow less intimidating then him

[map1e-1stru3]

He is teamed with idiots.

I feel like there are going to be a few more canaries this season around

[sylvies-chen]

Chenford + #18

18. “That was kind of hot.”

The second time Lucy goes undercover, things go about as chaotically as the first time.

She’s back in the game, going undercover deep for weeks as the chemist for the last of Sato’s minions as they make valiant but unsuccessful attempts at continuing his business.

One of the scumbags in question is some guy named Reno. Lucy— or Nova now, that is— doubts that’s his real name but he automatically sets himself apart from the other minor busts. He’s ruthless, violent, and above all else: he’s smart about his business. Lucy learns that quickly but isn’t intimidated. She’s smart too.

It’s why, when she and Reno are making their way on foot to meet up with their distributor (a meeting she knows isn’t on the LAPD’s radar yet), she figures something out and improvises. They need to know about the meeting that’s happening and she trusts Tim. She always has.

Lucy knows Tim’s usual patrol route. It used to be theirs, after all, she practically has the thing memorized inside and out by now. Reno had insisted on walking which was smart since no attention would be drawn to them through dingy looking cars or memorable license plates or reckless driving. But Lucy has a few tricks of her own so when she looks up at the street they’re turning onto, she sees Tim’s patrol car and isn’t the slightest bit surprised.

Reno doesn’t see it though. They keep walking and his eyeline is seconds away from catching the blue and white van. It’s now or never, Lucy thinks. She needs to draw his attention away from Tim and Tim’s attention towards them.

So she picks a fight.

“I need a break,” she declares suddenly, slowing down to feign exhaustion.

“You’ll take a break when I say you can,” Reno grumbles. “Stop whining, princess. We’re almost there.”

“Don’t call me that,” Lucy shouts back, considerably louder than before. She eyes Tim’s vehicule, praying it’s loud enough to draw his attention.

“What the hell is your problem?” He seethes, sending her a warning glare. “You shut your mouth when we’re in public.”

“Why, can’t handle a woman who doesn’t put up with your macho crap? You need me to make this product so if I need to catch my break for fifteen seconds then maybe you should just shut your damn mouth and let me,” she explains coldly.

That does the trick. Guys like Reno are a lot easier to piss off than people think, apparently, because he’s fuming at the nostrils and lifts his sweater to reveal the piece sitting at his hip. His second hand gets closer too, invading Lucy’s personal space and grabbing her arm. His fingers are tight around her forearm and the skin quickly turns a pinkish red.

“Is there a problem here, ma’am?”

Lucy doesn’t think she’s ever been so happy to hear Tim Bradford’s voice. (And that’s saying something since, admittedly, she loves hearing his voice.)

She turns her head and sees Tim’s standing before them, the shop parked across the street out of plain sight and his eyes stoic. Only she can notice the slight hint of worry and longing in them; she hangs onto that like a lifeline.

“No, officer,” Reno replies with a forced smile. “This is just our baby sister, Nova, she’s fine. We were just trying to hurry her along but she can’t handle this heat. You know how women are.”

Reno’s pathetic attempt at a joke shouldn’t fall flat— the smart move would be for Tim to laugh along to it, but he doesn’t.

“No I don’t, actually. And last I checked, I wasn’t asking you,” Tim retorts with a scowl, turning his attention back to Lucy. “Are these gentlemen bothering you, miss?”

She shakes her head. “No, no they’re my brothers. We were just meeting up with our father a couple blocks ahead by the coffee shop, he wants to take our nieces and nephews trick-or-treating next week for Halloween. My brother Reno’s right though, I was just being fussy.”

The timing is unusually perfect since Halloween really is next week and she it lets her convey the message perfectly: that they’re planning on distributing.

“Right,” he nods. “Well, uh, here, have some bottled water. It’s a hot day, the fall weather’s not cool enough yet for the fall.”

He hands her a plastic bottle of water she didn’t even realize she had. Something in his eyes tells her he’s giving her the green light to do their same routine as last time, so she takes the water bottle from him and then quickly turns on Nova’s flirty side. Lucy doesn’t know why she gets so eager to, but he’s been tense to the point where it doesn’t feel like acting and it makes her heart swell for him, so she needs that levity right now. Or, maybe, she just really likes to wonder when Nova stops making him stutter over his words and when Lucy starts. “Thank you, Officer…” she pretends to check his name tag, squinting closely. “Bradford. Very regal name. You must be my knight in shining armour.”

Reno and his friend look at her confused, but she puts a suggestive hand on his arm and they know exactly what she’s doing. Getting on Tim’s good side means throwing suspicion off of them in their minds.

Tim lets out a nervous laugh, looking down at her hand on his and somehow faking a blush. Or, as Lucy hopes in the quiet corners of her kind, blushes for real. “I don’t know how good of a knight in shining armour I am if I don’t even know the name of the woman I’m protecting,” he quips back, playing along. He even puts his hand on his belt and puffs his chest.

“Nova,” she tells him, catching his eye and giving an appreciative look. “You can call me Nova.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ears. Man, they’re really laying it on thick. She doesn’t think Reno or his buddy even suspect anything anymore. Why the hell is she still flirting with him?

“Nova,” he echoes. “I like it.”

There’s a thick but quick silence that falls over them, until Reno grabs her by the arm again and tries yanking her away from Tim. “Quit flirting. The cop is off our asses, you did your damn job. Now come on, we need to go,” he whispers to her through gritted teeth.

“Right, sorry,” she tells him, turning back to Tim (whose worry is becoming less concealed by the minute).

“You good to go then, miss?” Tim asks. She knows he’s asking if she’s told him everything she needed to. She has, so she nods.

“Yes. Thank you, Officer Bradford. You were very gallant. And I’m not going to lie…” she says as Reno and his friend start to continue their walk. “That was kind of hot.”

The two men aren’t looking at Tim anymore, so she looks back at him and gives the tiniest, knowing nod. Telling him he was hot wasn’t exactly part of the plan though and the last thing she sees before heading back undercover as Nova is the blush that creeps up on Tim’s face.

Maybe, just maybe, the lines between Lucy and Nova are a little blurred now….

[mythrilhusk]

Despite Everything - Chapter 2

NOT RPF (Ao3 link) Words - 2,243 Last Chapter

Next Chapter

CW: violence, imprisonment, inhumane treatment

"You see, Quackity, the idea is to not get caught." Technoblade whets his battle axe with firm, lazy strokes as he leans on a blackstone pillar. 

Quackity laughs nervously and reaches for his sword. "I, uh, didn't see you there, Techno." His six pairs of wings flutter and ruffle, barely hidden behind his crude glamour. 

"K." 

"You're not going to stop me." Quackity gathers his courage-- a contradiction considering he's literally the Angel of Fear-- and steps forward, sword ready. 

Technoblade, Angel of Wrath, strikes a terrifying figure as he steps into the glow of Jupiter shining through the windows. "You sure?" The gold-sheathed tusks glint as a grin crosses Techno's bristly muzzle. His two massive wings rustle behind his back, flaring menacingly. 

Quackity gulps and points a furious finger at Techno. "You- you fucking took the last biscuit, but I won't let you get away with it, Technoblade, I will have my revenge!" 

Technoblade splutters, then laughs. "That's the best you can come up with??" 

"I'm under pressure, here!" Quackity blushes angrily. "Just let me beat you already!" 

"High hopes for a man who just claimed revenge for a biscuit." Technoblade chuckles. "But alright, let's see if you've improved since the last time I handed your ass to you." 

Quackity drops his glamour. Technoblade flinches back from the blazing light of Quackity's multi-winged amorphousness. "Ha!" Quackity slams his sword down at Technoblade's arm. 

Techno's axe deflects the sword and his fist slams into Quackity, knocking the Angel against the wall. Quackity heaves instinctively to regain his breath, despite not needing air. Techno roars and leaps at him with his axe upraised. 

Yelping, Quackity rolls out of the way. The axe slams into the floor, and Techno rips it out before stalking once more for Quackity. "The fuck, man, are you trying to kill me??" 

"Treat every fight as a life-or-death situation." Technoblade intones. 

Quackity reaches for his sword, which leaps into his hand. He deflects Techno's next swing, then ducks under the axe and slashes for Techno's ribs. "Eat shit, motherfucker!" 

Techno doesn't even falter as the sword slices through his shirt, doesn't even flinch as blood wells from the gash. Roaring, he knocks Quackity's sword from his hands and lashes the axe across his form. 

"Stop, stop, haha, stop, wait!" Quackity cowers, retreating behind his glamour, wincing as his form regenerates the deep wound.

Technoblade slips the axe into the sheathe by his side and raises his clawed hands to show he's unarmed. He shifts down to his smaller, less intimidating form. "You fool." He chuckles with light mockery. "Train for another hundred years, then we'll see." 

"You damn bastard, you never let me win." 

"Let you win?? Why would I do that??" Technoblade guffaws. "Let you win. Wilbur, you hearing this?" 

Wilbur emerges from the ceiling. The Angel of Deceit's figure never settles on one form, glittering and glitching as he morphs continuously. "I heard." He says, grinning down at Quackity. "I bet I could beat you, Technoblade." 

"Really? Wanna test that?" Technoblade reaches for his axe, baring his teeth with excitement for battle. 

"Nah, not right now. I'm still asleep." Wilbur drops to the floor. 

"Hey, boys." Philza's voice filters through the sparring room. 

"Philza!" Technoblade cries joyfully, bounding to give the old man a big hug. 

"I heard that, you little shit." Philza snaps. "I'm not fucking old."

Quackity stomps his foot, laughing nervously. "I didn't think anything, you didn't hear anything, fuck, I'm sorry!" 

"You better be." 

"What's up, Philza?" Wilbur grins eerily. His grins always manage to be eery somehow, even in the more attractive forms he occasionally wears. 

"I just got a message. Someone's got a new job for the Pax Triumvirs." 

"Pog~," Technoblade hums. 

"What is it?" Quackity steps forward, taking the proffered scroll from Philza. He looks into the holographic screen. "The Lucid Spider? Who the fuck is he??" 

"Dunno. But the job seems fun enough. Techno, you'll like this one." 

"Oh? Oh?" Technoblade grunts, doing a little shuffly dance of excitement. "Are we blowing up another government?" 

"Seems like." Philza takes his scroll back from Quackity. "This Chiaroscuro Emperor has been gettin' a little too cozy, anyway. It's about time we stirred up some bees in his bonnet." 

"Who the fuck is the Lucid Spider, though??" Quackity cries. "Can we trust him to pay us?? How much are we getting paid, anyway?" 

"Quackity, money is merely material, while destruction of enforced hierarchies is spiritual." Technoblade hums. Wilbur tries to fistbump him, but his hands turn into lobster claws and Techno refuses to notice, so Wilbur sags, feigning dejection.

Quackity sneers. "That's bullshit, Techno-" The chrysaor reaches for his axe. "Ahaha, I'm joking, I'm joking, please don't punt me!" 

Technoblade keeps one hand rested on his axe just to spite Quackity. "Phil, he's got a point. Who is this Lucid Spider fellow?" 

"I dunno, mate. But he's paid half a billion up front, an' promised the rest when the job's done, so I think we're all cool." 

"Alright, alright. That sound good to you, Quackity?" Technoblade cocks his head, his ears pricking hopefully. "You're the money-guy." 

"You shoulda told him a trillion up front, and two trillion when the job's done. One fucking billion is pauper-speak." Quackity scoffs. "We need supplies and shit for the coup, we can't just summon food and allies out of thin air." 

"True, true. Philza?" Technoblade only ever yields to Quackity's expertise when money matters are concerned. In all other fields, he or Philza takes the lead. Quackity enjoys being the technical treasurer of the Pax Triumvirs, but he wishes he had slightly more control over the missions they went on. 

"Eh, I'll let'im know." Philza shrugs, then winks at Quackity. "Beat Techno once and maybe we'll talk about letting you lead a mission, kid." His forest-green cape billows behind him as he spins to leave the sparring room. 

Quackity laughs, preemptively nervous, and backs into a pillar. "Technoblade, don't get the wrong fucking idea, man."

"K." Techno's eyes gleam with amusement. "You want to try?" 

"I could beat you with my eyes closed." Quackity scoffs. "I don't need to try, I already know I could, I- I just want to spare your dignity!" 

Techno keeps giving him that damn sadistically amused look. "K." 

"I'll fight you, Quackity." Wilbur pipes up, still grinning. "I don't have any dignity to spare." 

"Nah, I'm actually really fucking tired right now, so maybe later, ahaha, or never, seeya losers!" Quackity hastily camouflages and flees from the sparring room. 

He's still not used to this, even after three years. He's not used to sharing a literal underground mansion with literal terrorists, much less being dragged into commiting acts of minor terrorism himself. He's not accustomed to the casual violence, the utter apathy towards other lives, the reckless attitude towards death. 

He plops down on a beanbag in his room and stares at his shaking hands. "If I had a choice," He wonders aloud. If he had been given a choice, would he have taken the cleaner, less bloody route? 

But the gods don't allow their Angels to choose. Theirs is not to question why, theirs is but to do and die. 

++++

Ponk paces restlessly, fire flickering in his eyes and hands. Hannah Rose watches him from her corner, cold tears dripping down the steel muzzle over her jaws. The two captives have only each other. The passage of time is lost in the silence. 

Rose raises her head as the massive door outside their cell slides open with the blaring of an alarm. She glowers silently at the Scythes, who enter before the Chiaroscuro Emperor. 

"Well!" Emperor Schlatt claps his hands together cheerfully. "Well, well, well." The forcefield is all that stands between the prisoners and their captor. 

"Fuck you, man." Ponk snarls. "Let us go." 

"Hm, lemme think about that. How about no." Schlatt shrugs, grinning. "You little fucks think you can cross me, eh? Around here, my word is law." 

The three Scythes step forward in unison. Schlatt leans against the wall. "You ready to talk nicely, Rose, or do we need to keep you silenced?" 

Rose scowls at him. Her hands are chained to the wall, so she can't even respond with a crude gesture. Ponk kicks the forcefield, then yelps as it disappears. He backs away from the Scythes stalking towards him. 

Scythe Ranboo approaches Rose. His green eye narrows, hard and cold, the pupil constricted to a mere slit. The red cybernetic implant of his other eye whirls and spins in its socket, trying to see everything at once. The black and white metal exo-jaws keep his mouth clamped shut. Rose almost feels bad for the Scythes. They're not allowed to speak either, muzzled like dangerous dogs, like herself. 

Ranboo removes Rose's muzzle and she works her sore jaws. "Thank you." She murmurs. If she can get even one of the Scythes to sympathize with her, she and Ponk may have a fighting chance of escape. Ranboo replies with the slightest of nods, then retreats back to Schlatt. 

In the meantime, Scythes Tubbo and Tommy have cornered Ponk as Schlatt interrogates him. "I don't know what you mean!" Ponk cries, cowering. "I don't know where the heart is!"

Schlatt turns to Rose. "Hey, bitch, you want to help your buddy out?" 

"I'll tell you fuck-all." Rose snarls. 

"Heh, okay. Guess I have no use for either of you, then. Tubbo?" Schlatt turns to his Scythes. Tubbo removes two painfully familiar phylacteries from his suit pocket, handing them both to Schlatt.

"No!" Ponk cries. "You can't- please don't, man, I really honestly don't know what you want!" 

"I want the Cosmos Heart!" Schlatt bellows. "And I'm going to get it!" 

"You motherfuckers don't know what you're playing with!" Ponk snarls right back. At a gesture from Schlatt, Tommy slams Ponk into the wall. 

"Hannah Rose?" Schlatt turns to Rose. Ranboo stalks towards her. "Sing for us, birdie, or your little fuckbuddy here dies first." Schlatt dangles Ponk's phylactery on his finger. 

Several colorful curses leap to Rose's tongue, but she restrains herself, trying to meet the predicament with a clear head. "I'll tell you." She growls. "If you give those back and free us." 

"What, do I look like a cruel person to you?" Schlatt laughs. "Tell me and I'll do you one better! I'll hire both of you!" 

Rose shoots Ponk a warning glance. He can't continue to defy Schlatt, or they'll both die. She answers, "Fine. The Cosmos Heart can be found in the Unity of the Dragons." 

Schlatt laughs. "What's that supposed to even fucking mean?"

"The Spirits. Find them, unify them, and their powers combined will form what you desire." 

"Alright. I'm a man of my word. Ranboo, escort Hannah Rose to the Butterfly suite." 

"Let Ponk go, too." Rose demands. 

"Sweetie, I don't have any reason to let either of you go. I could kill you both and not lose anything, right now. But I'm being nice, here." 

"Please." Tears well in Rose's eyes as her lip trembles and her breath catches on feigned sobs. "I can't lose him, too." 

"Aww, c'mon, sweetheart. Alright, alright, fine, don't cry, he can share the suite with you. But I'm keeping these." Schlatt hands one phylactery to Ranboo, and the other to Tommy. 

"Thank you," Rose keeps up the act, sobbing almost for real out of relief. 

Ranboo leads Ponk and Rose through the vast space-castle in silence. Ponk is unusually quiet, glaring down at his grimy boots as he stomps on the clean tiles. Rose stares out of the portal windows they pass, watching the stars. 

"Now I have three souls I can't lose." Ranboo mutters. Rose glances up at him, noting that the exo-jaw has loosened its hold to allow him speech. His eyes drop to her forehead, avoiding her eyes as he always has, and he smiles weakly. "Nevermind." 

"Can I have mine, please?" Rose dares to ask. 

"I- I can't, Schlatt would be so furious if I did, I'm sorry." Ranboo shakes his head hastily. "I'm supposed to obey him." 

Rose gives him a pitying smile. "Please keep my soul safe, then." 

"I'll do my best." Ranboo replies. He stops by a hatch and taps the ID pad with a finger. "Here you go. Butterfly Suite." 

The hatch flowers open to a spartan set of rooms. Rose enters the cold space and sighs, longing for her tapestries and carpets. "Can I decorate it?" 

"Uh, you can ask Schlatt, or whoever he puts in charge of you guys." Ranboo deflects nervously. 

Rose nods to him. "Thank you, Ranboo." 

"Oh. I- oh. Please don't thank me." Ranboo backs out of the room. "Someone will come with food later." 

"Thank you." She repeats with an innocent smile. Ranboo retreats. The hatch closes and locks behind him. Her smile falls into bitter hatred. "Damn them!" She snarls and kicks the wall. "Damn them all to the pits of Tartarus!!"

Ponk drops onto the only seating present, a wooden bench. "Why'd you tell them?" He sounds lost, broken.

  "I couldn't let you die, Ponk! I can't fucking live with that, not even for a few moments!!" Rose paces the main room, then inspects the offshoots. Two bedrooms, a bathroom with a luxuriously deep tub, and a kitchen. Not bad, and certainly a step up from the cell. But they're still trapped here. 

Hannah Rose hates being trapped. 

Next Chapter

[fireflyfish]

battlefront matchup anon again, i'm now very excited to read the Local Force Users Anonymous meeting fic, thank you for this hilarity

Hello again, Nony! Ask and Fishy shall deliver… some of the time… when I don’t have a season to work on… or Rex to poke. 

This ask and the insanity below was inspired by this lovely gifset. 

***

Don’t Bring a Blaster to a Lightsaber Fight

A.K.A A Weekly Meetup for Local Force Users

***

Han Solo, known scoundrel, smuggler and the only person to make the Kessel run in less than 12 parsecs, if you rounded down, found himself in a strange place. He had somehow ended up, of course through no fault of his own, in an industrial part of… somewhere that was wrapped in blue fog and was, for reasons unknown to him, standing in a puddle, even though he was pretty sure it hadn’t rained that day.

Walking forward, Han could see that he was not alone in the mysterious blue place with incongruous puddles and machinery that looked like it would explode if you looked at it too long.

As he walked, Han could see a row of dark-robed figures lining up in front of him, a few meters away. They stood in a line like a holo boy band and Han was going to tell them that until he realized that he was standing in front of Darth Vader, the bastard who had tortured him to lure his good friend Luke into a trap. And then cut off Luke’s hand because symbolism? Who knows but it was a bad move, Anakin. A very bad move.

Sarcastic comment now dead on his lips, Han Solo pulled out his blaster and aimed it straight at Darth Vader’s heart, ignoring the fact that the last time he had tried to shoot Darth Vader it had gone over about as well as the first time he tried to win the Falcon from Lando in a game of sabaac. Although in Han’s defense Lando cheated and I suppose one could argue that secretly having the Chosen One be the Empire’s ruthless and brutal enforcer is kind of cheating too.

But we digress.

While Vader waited next to what Han could only assume was the Emperor, flanked by some old dude posing dramatically and a guy who looked he got an awesome buy-one-get-one deal at a tattoo shop, three other people strode up towards Han. One was an attractive young woman in a quilted vest with brown hair and a lightsaber as well as a handsome gentleman with hair that could only be described as “swooshy” in white armor and his own lightsaber.

Han Solo was starting to worry that he had somehow ended up in some kind of strange Jedi street fight when his best friend Luke showed up, swinging around his new green lightsaber like he actually knew what he was doing.

Which he did. Right?

“Kid,” Han hissed to Luke, trying to keep a level and intimidating gaze as the face off continued. “Who are these people?”

Luke shrugged a little in his defensive stance. “Besides Vader and the Emperor, I’m not really sure.”

“Who are you people?” the young woman next to Han asked, looking like she was ready to go toe to toe with some seriously bad motherkriffers who probably had at least 150 years of experience on her and her awesome looking vest. She also, inexplicably, had a crisp Coruscanti accent that has never been explained to either Han or the author’s knowledge.

“I’m Luke Skywalker and this is my friend, Han Solo,” Luke said as the villians continued to stand there, looking evil, foreboding and black. These guys really liked black and red.

“You’re Han Solo?” the girl to Han’s right gasped in shocked delight. “You’re alive?!”

“Am I not supposed to be?” Han asked in reply, looking over at Luke very confused. “Is this more of your hokey Force religion, Luke?”

“Skywalker, did you say?” the really disarmingly-attractive man in the white armor asked, peering all the way around to frown at Luke. “Did I hear you correctly? Your name is Luke Skywalker?”

“Yes, that’s my name. Do I know you?” Luke replied.

“My name is Rey and… well… the last time I saw you, you were… a lot older and…” Rey frowned, still talking to Han, and looked away, as if carrying a heavy burden before cheering up. “But this is wonderful! You’re alive! The Force is amazing! I have to tell General Organa!”

“You wouldn’t happen to be related to someone named Anakin Skywalker, would you?” asked the ginger haired man with the armor and sexy accent.

“Leia is a general?” Han gaped, confused.

“That’s my father,” Luke said, also confused because there are a lot of people talking at the same time and it’s getting hard to keep track of them. “Why? Do you know him?”

“Yes, she’s leading the resistance against the First Order,” Rey explained with a stars in her eyes as she beheld her hero in his younger, sexier form. Poor girl. Your author hopes she never watches Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade because that has ruined your author for all other Harrison Ford movies.

“Know him? He’s my former padawan,” the man at the end of the line up of heroes said with a charming, toothy smile and a jaunty laugh. “I don’t know where he is at this moment but once I take care of this, I’m going to go find him and save him from whatever nonsense he’s gotten himself into.”

***

Meanwhile, a few meters away.

Darth Vader grit his teeth and vowed vengeance against the young, handsome, charming, attractive– had he always been that sexy in armor?– Obi-Wan Kenobi talking to his son like he didn’t even know that he, the fallen Anakin Skywalker, was right there. He was right there and Obi-Wan wasn’t even paying attention to him. The utter gall of that man!

How dare Obi-Wan show up now, looking so… so… hot and young and beautiful? And wasn’t he supposed to be dead? Vader was pretty sure he had killed Obi-Wan and immediately regretted it but that’s how Anakin rolls, gentle readers on the Death Star.

“Allow me to rid this galaxy of Kenobi’s infuriating presence once and for all, my master,” Vader rumbled in that terrifying voice that sounded nothing like his real voice but that’s okay because we have that traumatizing Rebels episode for that particular heartbreak.

“No,” Count Dooku intoned, his ominous voice rumbling through the area like thunder because his best buddy Gandalf helpfully volunteered to do the sound effects for this battle. “I will be the one to bring Kenobi to the Dark Side once and for all. He could be a powerful ally and it’s what Qui-Gon would have wanted.”

“If anyone is going to kill KENOBAEAUGUHGHA it is going to be me!” Maul snarled and paced around because that’s what he does when he’s being evil. He snarls, paces and says KENOBAEAUGUHGHA over and over again. Honestly, it gets kind of weird after a while.

Palpatine just covered his face with his hand and muttered to himself. “I should have killed that sexy ginger myself.”

***

“Padawan? What’s a padawan?” Luke asked because, again, he had like a weeks worth of training in the Jedi arts and the author is pretty sure Yoda had more important things to do than to go into the naming nomenclature of the Jedi order. “Wait… Obi-Wan? Are you Obi-Wan Kenobi?!”

Obi-Wan gave Luke that charming, sexy grin of his and nodded. “Yes, I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Luke. And you two as well, Han and Rey.”

“Uh… Hi,” Han said, waving his hand a little as Rey peered around him to gasp at Luke.

“Luke Skywalker?!” Rey almost squealed with delight because let’s be honest here, Gareth Pugh Couture Jumpsuit Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker is PEAK Luke. “I have your lightsaber! I need you to teach me how to be a Jedi!”

Han Solo took a step back while the lightsaber wielding crazies, as a wise man once called them, talked to and over each other. Or rather, while Rey and Luke tried to have a three-way conversation that Obi-Wan was occasionally roped into when someone needed to be gently corrected as to how the Force and the Jedi Order worked.

“No, we don’t mind control people like that, Rey.”

“Luke, that is nothing like what a defensive Soresu stance should look like. Who taught you that?”

“Yes, I agree, that lightsaber sounds most immature and poorly built. Who did you say made it? Kylie Ren?”

Han, being the clever and observant type, noticed that the Dark Side users, that was what Luke called them, were all glaring over at Obi-Wan and since Han wasn’t in the mood to get stabbed or lose a hand like Luke, he decided to interrupt the impromptu Light Side pow-wow. “Hey… so… Vader, I know, and I’m pretty sure that guy in the hooded robe is Emperor Palpatine but does anybody know what’s up with Grampa and Pointy over there? Are they a part of your Fist Order, Rey?”

“It’s First Order, not Fist Order and, no, I’ve never seen them before,” Rey said, frowning. “Although I have heard of Darth Vader, mostly in passing. He died on the second Death Star over Endor. Him and the Emperor.”

“There’s another Death Star?” Han and Luke groaned at the same time. And a third one too but the author did not have time to go into all of that.

“Gramps and Pointy,” Obi-Wan explained, enjoying a good chuckle at Maul’s expense like we all should, pointing to each man in turn. “Are Sith Lords. Count Dooku was my master’s master, a fallen Jedi who now goes by the name of Darth Tyranus. He tried to recruit me to the Dark Side and cut off my padawan’s arm. And Pointy is Darth Maul, who murdered my master. I cut him in half and kicked him down a plasma shaft but apparently he shook that off somehow.”

Luke gaped in horror. “You cut him in HALF and he LIVED?”

“Next time I’ll aim for his neck,” Obi-Wan shrugged.

“KENOBAEAUGUHGHA!” Maul bellowed from a few meters away where the Sith Lords were standing in place because authorial intent is stronger than the Dark Side. “At last I will have my revenge!”

“Fool,” Dooku bellowed with a dramatic flourish of his cape. “You are but a mad dog, a tool my master used to bring himself to power. Kenobi will be a great ally to the Sith once turned.”

“Silence!” Vader said in that lovely James Earl Jones bass, clenching his fist as if he could squeeze the life out of Obi-Wan like he did to Admiral Ozzel, Captain Needa and others who out of an abundance of tact the author will not name. “I am going to be the one to finally destroy Obi-Wan Kenobi and then the Jedi Order’s failures will be complete.”

Luke and Rey exchanged a glance and turned to Obi-Wan, horrified at the narrative arc of his life.

Obi-Wan sighed. “Oh, is it Tuesday again?”

Emperor Palpatine muttered to himself under his breath. “You had one job, Commander Cody. Just one! But, no! You couldn’t even do that right! Why did I even order a Clone Army? They spent most of their time getting cool-looking tattoos and painting their armor! Hell! Captain Rex was more concerned about getting airtime and being cast in Return of the Jedi than carrying out my master plan!”

Now Han Solo, for all the grief the author has given him in this story that has gone on longer than they wanted, is a smart man. One does not smuggle spice, coaxium, or whatever in the age of the Empire unless one is clever and quick on his feet and Han Solo is pretty quick on his feet.

Especially when running away from a bunch of stormtroopers on the Death Star. The author thinks he might have broken a record or something in that scene.

Anyway, Han Solo realized that a few things about the situation he found himself it.

Number one, he didn’t want to fight Vader and get his blaster stolen again.

Number two, everyone at the informal Force Users of Star Wars meetup seemed oddly obsessed with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Number three, there was a way out of this if he just played his cards right. And as Han would tell you, he is very good at cards.

Clearing his throat, Han Solo announced in a loud voice that just barely managed to pierce the din of Force users talking about Obi-Wan Kenobi. “None of you love Obi-Wan Kenobi as much as I do.”

“What?!” Vader barked, looking around for the person who dared to lay claim to the mantle of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Number One Fan and Nemesis. “Who said that?”

“Just his biggest fan,” Han Solo said again, smirking at Vader. “I even got an official certificate from the Jedi Order in here somewhere.”

“You do not!” Vader protested angrily. “I made them stop giving those out after they tried to give Ahsoka one!”

“What?!” Obi-Wan gaped, stunned. “What official certificate?”

“Nonsense! Kenobi is my life’s goal! My mission and obsession! I am his greatest fan!” Maul snarled, shoving his way forward into the crowd that was slowly starting to form not so much around Obi-Wan but more like in front of him, so that his adoring crowd could all show off how much they loved him and were willing to kill everyone in the galaxy to prove it. Because that’s healthy.

Well, Palpatine just wanted to kill Obi-Wan once and for all but even he had to admit the man was nice on the eyes.

“Maybe that’s why Commander Cody missed,” Palpatine muttered in an aside as he tried to hobble around the bickering crowd.

“Kenobi is my grandpadawan!” Dooku insisted, refusing to let the younger Sith steal away his prize. “If anyone has that right, it should be me!”

“Listen, I didn’t want to have to throw my weight around like this but I am the main character of this story,” Luke insisted, almost elbowing Maul in the face as he tried to get a word in. “And Obi-Wan did spend eighteen years on Tatooine AND I am a Skywalker so if anybody is going to be Obi-Wan’s biggest fan, I think it should be me.”

“TATOOINE?!” Vader exploded. “You were on Tatooine all this time?! You made my poor, sexy master waste away on Tatooine?!”

“Excuse me, Lord Vader,” Palpatine interjected. “But I am your master, remember?’

“Yeah, yeah, whatever Sheev,” Vader muttered, rolling his eyes behind his mask. “Listen, Luke, son, kid, I know you’re new to this whole ‘Jedi business’ but let me straighten you out. As Obi-Wan Kenobi’s former padawan learner, I get first dibs on him, okay? Me, not you, not Grumpy Grandpa over here and definitely not Rage-Face Robo-Legs over here.”

“But you’re a Sith Lord!”

“Does that look like it’s stopping any of the rest of Obi-Wan’s fanboys? Hell! I bet even Palpatine has a few sexy pictures of his from the Clone Wars.”

“I knew I never should have told you about my secret thirst tumblr, Vader!”

“See what I mean?”

While this heated battle of words, fannish desire and single minded obsession devotion continued on apace, Han Solo took his opportunity to make his escape. He was going to try to get Luke’s attention but it was clear that Luke had fallen under the sway of Kenobi and wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. Rey also looked like she wanted to elbow her way into the squabble of McQueen black robes and knee high Chanel boots but Han reached out to stop her. “C’mon, kid, we’re getting out of here.”

“But we can’t just leave them!” Rey insisted in that way that reminded Han of Leia but also Luke. He wondered if perhaps Rey was related to them somehow because it seemed like everyone was related to a Skywalker these days but quickly forgot it in the heat of the moment.

“They’ll be fine,” Han insisted, seeing a break in the blue fog encircling the nonsense he found himself in. “Besides, what are we going to do against four bad guys with lightsabers?”

Rey opened her mouth to insist that she had somehow managed to download Kylo Ren’s ability to wield a lightsaber but then she realized she would have to explain Kylo Ren to Han Solo and she just didn’t have the heart to tell him about that because your author is STILL salty about that, gentle reader. STILL SALTY. “All right let’s go. Obi-Wan? We’re leaving. Are you coming with us?”

Obi-Wan was leaning against a pile of old rubble, watching the Luke and the Sith Lords squabble over him. He looked over at Rey and Han, waving them off. “Oh, no, thank you, my dear. I’m quite used to this by now. I’m sure Ahsoka and Captain Rex will be along in a minute to pick me and Luke up. You two go on and may the Force be with you both.”

Rey looked at Han Solo, who shrugged, and with that they both ran for the fog.

“That isn’t even your real voice, Skywalker! How can you truly do credit to the name of KENOBAEAUGUHGHA if you have to rely on James Earl Jones to sound intimidating?”

“What are you even saying? That sounds nothing like my grandpadawan’s name! It must be said with deep, solemn and regretful feeling. You have to project. Like this. Kenobi.”

“Why are all my apprentices obsessed with this Kenobi? He’s not even that attractive. Now Qui-Gon Jinn? That was a man!”

Obi-Wan groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Yup, this was just another Tuesday.

[angelkurenai]

A supernatural marvel - Dean Winchester x Reader x Steve Rogers - Chapter 2

Title: A supernatural Marvel

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Set in season 13 and Post Avengers: Infinity War, No Infinity War spoilers

Word Count: 5,819

Summary: Imagine being transported in the Supernatural universe, with no memory of your life, where you become a hunter and fall in love with Dean. Only for a very important person from your past to come looking for you and change it all.

Read Chapter 1 here!

“I'm sorry, do I know you?” you frowned, your eyes staying glued to his for a reason you couldn't describe with words.

However your words weren't the ones he wanted to hear, if anything it was probably the worst ones he could hear considering the circumstances. His lips formed a line as he clenched his jaw and straightened his back, his eyes still holding that glossy feature though. You knew that look very well, Dean had had that expression before himself, he was hurt, undeniably so, but didn't want anyone to know.

“No” his voice was more gruff than you'd expect “No, I'm sorry. I was the one mistaken. We'll just-”

“No!” you breathed out so fast you surprised not only yourself, but certainly Dean and the man you were looking at “Wait, you're... you're right. I am (Y/n), (Y/n) (Y/l/n). Isn't that what you meant?”

“I-” he blinked for a second, as if his guards were coming down, but he managed to regain his strength and shook his head with a deep frown “No, no I didn't.” he said in an almost robotic and totally nowhere near convincing way “Thank you for your help but we need to leave now.” he addressed mostly the boys.

“What? No you can't just-” you started but as you took a step closer to them your feet felt wobbly and trembled.

Before you could collapse, though, Dean was instantly by your side and holding you protectively to him “Are you ok?” he asked in a gruff voice and yet you still found yourself looking from his concerned face to Steve's who had an identical one on.

“I will be.” you forced out, willing yourself to stand straight and pushing Dean slightly away and looked Steve straight in the eyes again “Once you tell me how you know me.”

His eyes hardened instantly and his blue eyes went from worried to cold and almost hostile, as if he wanted to protect himself from you “I don't.” he said matter-of-factly before turning to leave.

But he only took two steps away before the woman of their group spoke up “How are you here?”

Your eyes instantly fell on her, noticing her red eyes, but thankful because it made the blue-eyed man stop in his steps “Wh-what?” you blinked “What does that mean?”

“Natasha” he sighed heavily, not looking at her but he closed his eyes for a second.

She only pursed her lips stubbornly and yet angrily “Don't you wanna know how this is even possible?”

“I know enough.” he turned to glare at her “She-” he pointed at you before turning to look at you and let his hand fall “Is not (Y/n). Not my... our (Y/n). And we don't need to bother them anymore, we have a job to do and I'm sure so do they. We're going, now.” his voice was commanding, making you wonder for a second what his place was.

“Well I'm not.” she countered back, making him clench his fists and lower his head with closed eyes. There was something at the action that made it look familiar.

“Nat” Sam gave her a warning look but she shook her head before her eyes focused back on you.

“What do you remember of us? Anything, doesn't have to be names, even an image. A shape, scene or- or even a color. Something, a place maybe? What the last thing you remember? Do you... know about what is out there? As in universes. Is there something that could-” she seemed like a calm and collected woman, but when she spoke to you, you could see a desperation that made your heart ache. As if something terrible had happened.

“I'm- I don't-” you blinked, your vision getting more blurry and your head aching even more as the time passed. Your hands started to shake and Dean instantly took notice of it. He knew that with your dreams you've been really on edge lately, and it was more than clear that these people – especially Steve – were making things much worse for you.

“Alright, enough.” Dean's voice barked, rough enough to scare even the most dangerous monsters, so you wouldn't be surprised if – especially with his height – he could seem rather intimidating “I've had enough of the questioning, and she's certainly unable to take any more of it.” he stood in front of you protectively.

“We- we don't want to cause any trouble.” Sam rushed to tell him, trying to calm him down, but unlike him Steve only seemed to take a challenging step forward, without even realizing it.

“We know, we know that.” your Sam stepped forward as well with a polite smile “What my brother- uh Dean, and I'm Sam and this Jack.” he introduced them to make things a little less tense “And you apparently know (Y/n)... somehow.” he cleared his throat “What Dean is trying to say is that, we don't know what you're talking about and we would like to help but as you see we are in no place to provide information right now.”

“And we certainly don't want to.” Dean didn't miss a second to say harshly, green eyes burning with a fire you had seen before, earning a look of exasperation from his brother.

“Look, we're only trying to figure out what's going on here. We only want to-” Sam started explaining but the older Winchester wouldn't have any of it.

“So are we.” he growled “But you're bombarding a girl with questions she can barely comprehend while throwing accusations right after we just saved your asses. Anyone would lose their temper and trust me, I ain't in the best mood today. Frankly she doesn't have to answer jack, so we're doing you a favor by giving you any of these info. Be thankful we're letting you go without any trouble, cause otherwise-”

“Otherwise what?” it was Steve's turn to speak back defensively, taking a step forward even if Dean was taller “What will you do?” he asked “I'll tell you. Not much.”

“And you think you will?” Dean raised an eyebrow as Steve didn't say anything but only pursed his lips and shrugged.

“Bring it on, Captain.” the older Winchester said with a dangerous smirk.

“Oh I'm really starting to want you to make me.” he narrowed his eyes.

“Trust me, I sure-” Dean started but the younger Winchester stepped in before they could do anything.

“Alright, no. No! We're taking it too far here, ok?” he pushed his brother back “We're all on the same side here, there is no need for all this.”

“Doesn't seem much like it.” Dean growled “But since you like questions, then why don't you answer one instead.” he looked back at them “How the hell do you know (Y/n)?”

“We don't.” Steve was fast to snap back, beating Natasha at whatever she was ready to say “We don't know her. I told you I was wrong.”

“Well, ain't that convincing.” Dean rolled his eyes, but you took hold of his hand to stop him before he took a dangerous step closer to him “Do you expect me to believe you? Buddy, I've been in heaven and hell, heck even Purgatory, I know how to get the answer out of you. Do you think there's anything that can stop me?”

“I would like to see you try.” Steve said in a calm voice but with a hint of bitterness and pain behind it, as if he'd gone through it before.

Dean was ready to speak, the soft dark laugh that left his lips meaning that it wasn't going to be something nice, but you stepped in before he could say a word “Alright, I think this is enough.” you gave him a look, placing a hand on his chest “Stop it, I'm alright.”

“(Y/n)'s-” Sam, Wilson, started but paused for a moment as if saying your name was hard for him “She's right. You have a wounded child here, that needs to be seen immediately or else it will be very dangerous.”

“Oh I'm- I'm alright. It's for most part healed up.” Jack spoke up tentatively, no longer leaning on Sam for support, a nervous smile on his lips.

“This fast?” Sam's eyebrows rose but a frown, almost suspicious, formed on Natasha's face.

“He's half angel. He can heal faster than normal.” you spoke up, and that was all it took for their eyes to widen in realization. Why, you couldn't understand.

“Angel?” Sam blinked.

“Angels... exist here?” Natasha asked in a barely audible voice and you gave her a nod. That was all she needed to look at Steve, much like Sam, both with wide eyes but in understanding.

The blonde man instantly looked back at you with wide eyes, like the first time he saw you a couple minutes ago, but he soon masked it all by shaking his head. His eyes went cold again and he clenched his jaw before he said a rough “No.”

“But Steve-” Natasha started but he wouldn't listen.

“We're leaving.” he said over his shoulder, turning his back to you to leave. It seemed as if he was only forcing himself to believe this, what you couldn't understand exactly, because he couldn't let his hopes get up only for him to bedisappointed in the end. You could understand that very well, you'd done that many times before.

“Cap” this time Sam also defended her but he wouldn't budge.

“I said now.” he ordered “Or else I'm leaving without.” he added but you could see that he wasn't the kind of guy to leave his team behind, just as he wasn't one to use authority this way. He was hurt, it was evident (at least to you), but as much as you wished you could stop this, you too needed answers.

“No” you said surprisingly firmly, despite how your entire body just seemed to want to shut down “No, you're not leaving. Not before I get answers. You know me, you know things about me that I don't even know, and we both know it. Stop denying it and tell me how. I have the right to know how.” but he wasn't set on listening to you, more like avoiding you

“Steve!” you only managed to catch up with him when at the call of his name he froze in his place. You didn't know if it was something in the way you said it, the way you called out to him, but it did the trick. You stood now only a couple inches away from him and thankfully he, although very slowly and hesitantly as if it pained him, turned to look at you. The moment your eyes locked, though, you couldn't help but feel the words die in your lips and the air get knocked out of your lungs. You gaped at him as for a moment you got a flash of those eyes gazing warmly at you with a morning light cascading over them.

You shook your head, taking a deep breath and speaking more softly “Please, I need you to be honest with me.” you met his eyes again “Do I know you?”

This time he really hesitated, his lips parting but no words came out for a minute before he finally stilled himself and shook his head, uttering a rough “No. No you don't.”

It seemed like he was struggling to say the words, because you both knew they weren't true, and just as he turned to leave again you couldn't help yourself. You instinctively reached out of him, but the second you took hold of his arm you both froze in your place and all words died out in your lips again. This time for good. His head snapped in your direction, the both of you feelings the shivers run down your spine at the skin contact. It was just in time to see your eyes glow a familiar blue that made his heart rate pick up before they fluttered closed and your hold on him loosened significantly. He was fast to react and catch you before your body hit the cold ground.

And as far as you were concerned, the only thing you registered was the sharp headache that made a scream rip through your lips and, before darkness enveloped you, a voice frantically calling out your name. Or was it two?

~*~

The first thing you actually registered was the warm morning light shining through the curtains. You could actually feel the rays of the sun washing over your exposed skin and warming you to the core. An uncharacteristic sense of bliss had set deep within you and you didn't even want to fight the smile off your lips. The image was blurry before you but you couldn't mistake the white new bedsheets, or soft grey and earthy tones of the furniture around you or even more the soft cream color of the skin of a bare chest and arms of a man beside you, a color that stood out even more as it was beautifully bathed in the morning glow. Your fingers danced over the warm cream color, almost in feather-like touches but still enough for you to feel the smoothness and softness of it.

“What are you thinking?” the slightly husky voice and a soft squeeze on your arm caught your attention. As the man's hand trailed up your bare arm, your eyes trailed up his body as well, until in between all the soft cream or pinkish colors you were able to detect blue. And oh it was the most beautiful blue you'd ever seen in your life.

You blinked only a couple times and the view was much more clear this time. Instead of frowning, your smile only got bigger as you brought your hand up to cup his cheek that was free of the smallest hint of a scruff, much less beard. It was indeed him, though, despite the differences and even more the calm and seemingly so young expression on his face. And he was gazing at you in such bliss, despite the hazy eyes, and such love it made your heart burst.

“Oh nothing in specific.” you licked your lips, looking up to meet his eyes and see a playfulness and sparkle of happiness in them that made your heart flutter inside your chest.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow and a giggle escaped your lips. It was so effortless an so genuine, heartfelt and easy going as if everything was simply perfect.

“Well, in fact-” you snuggled closer to his side “I actually had a dream. About you.” you rubbed your thumb over his cheek.

“Dream or vision?” there was a hint of concern in his voice but you reassured him with a small shake of your head.

“Dream. At least I think, I haven't been getting any visions for months now.” you shrugged “Anyway, you wanna know what I saw?”

“What?” he grinned sleepily.

“You with a beard and damn you looked good, Rogers!” you emphasized with a grin.

“I highly doubt that, darling.” he only laughed “A beard wouldn't look anywhere near good on me.”

“Why not? You haven't tried it!” you whined softly “Come on, give it a go. And maybe-” you bit your lip, trailing your hand up to run your fingers through his hair “Let your hair grow too. You could keep it pushed back, no problem with that. I bet it would be so soft, great to run my fingers through to calm you down or to, you know-” you shrugged with a smirk “To pull at when you slam into me, hm?” you offered as innocently as you could, but your words were far from that.

“(Y/n)” he dragged your name, chuckling softly and almost in embarrassment, before burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Just think about it.” you begged softly “Come on, for me? Please?”

“It's not practical and you know it.”

“You say that cause we haven't tried it yet. You knows, maybe you'll just end up liking it... get a kink out of it, who knows?” you bit your lip but squeaked and giggled when his fingers skipped through your sides and he tickled you.

“You're set on it, aren't you?” you could feel the grin against your skin.

“Baby, I just saw you in a beard, looking gorgeous as all hell; pretty rough around the edges and gosh do I love it! Not to mention how bad I'd like to know how that would feel. So nope, I can't forget it any easily and frankly I don't want to, so if I have to I'm gonna hide every razor you have in here to make you grow a beard.”

“Alright, I'll tell you, one day maybe I will consider it. But only when I'm gonna be in dire need of it,and at the moment I'm not.” his tone was very soft and calm, but it still showed you that he had his mind made and wouldn't budge. Not that you always didn't love him sticking up for his opinion, but sometimes it could be frustrating.

“There will come a day, mark my words. And will I eagerly look forward to it.” you said before pulling slightly away to look into his eyes “But until then, I'm definitely going to take advantage of my sweetheart Steve.”

“And what Steve will the other one be? The one with the beard.” he asked with a small smile.

“Hmh” you thought for a moment, before throwing a leg over his waist and pressed your naked body flush against his, making his pupils dilate and his eyes widen but a grin to spread on his lips nonetheless, before you said “He'd be daddy Steve. Definitely daddy Steve.”

You smiled widely when you got a low moan from him and felt his one hand on your hip squeeze tightly as the other ran up your back, before he whispered in a gruff voice “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah” you breathed out, before you closed the remaining space between the two of you – which only was a couple inchesanyway – by leaning down to capture his lips with yours.

However the feeling didn't even record as everything around you got consumed by darkness and his body seemed to slip through your fingers like ashes. You caught yourself laying on your back, unable to see anything and with your eyelids feeling heavy. You didn't know what would happen next, you didn't know what your mind would throw at you after this. This was the first time a dream of yours had a whole conversation play out quite normally, instead of the usual blurry and messy images or words you got here and there, which all just mixed together.

But when you realized you were actually already awake you felt relief wash over you. You didn't know if you could take another mess of dreams, especially now. Not that even that one dream wasn't suspicious and worrying anyway. You took a deep breath in as you heard shuffling from next to you. No matter how heavy your eyelids felt, you forced yourself to open your eyes. There was too much going to just sleep through it.

“Hey” Dean's rough yet gentle voice caught your attention when you first opened your eyes.

“Hey” you said sleepily, blinking several times until you realized you were in your room in the bunker.

“How you feelin'?” he asked as softly as he could and you smiled at his concern and care.

“I think fairly well. Certainly better than before.” and it was true, even though you had already forgotten a good half of the dream, as much as you tried to remember nothing came back and with each passing second you forgot more. It was as if your body was trying to heal a wound that kept reopening in different kind of ways. 

You decided to focus back on Dean only to see he was nowhere near happy or pleased “What's up doc? You look worried.”

“Shouldn't I be?” he clenched his jaw “You just passed out, and you were out for some time.” he pursed his lips, as he rested his elbows on his knees and you turned on your side so you could have a better look at him.

“Yes, but I mean-” you shrugged softly “It's not such a big deal. I've faced worse.” you tried to reassure him, your own heart aching to see him so exhausted on that tiny and surely uncomfortable chair.

“No big deal? You're saying this like you've passed out before-” he paused before his eyes hardened and a frown set on his face “You haven't passed out before like this, have you (Y/n)?”

“No, Dean.” you sighed, well it was half the truth at least because there had not been such a strong headache “No I haven't. Now come on, please, stop worrying so much about me.” you let a small sigh, although you could see he wasn't convinced, you got up in a sitting position and patted the space next to you “Come here.”

You didn't even have to try to persuade him, because with a sigh of defeat he got up from his chair and came to sit next to. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you snuggled on his side and rested your head on his shoulder, appreaciating his warmth and the comfort hebrought to you. You looked up at him shift his clenched jaw and sighed heavily.

“It's not your fault, you know, and there isn't really anything you could have done to prevent it.” you whispered softly, his eyes instantly falling on you.

“I know... or at least I try to.” he looked down at your hand as he took them in his “I just feel like there is something I should do but I can't figure it out and I just-” he clicked his tongue on his teeth in disapproval “I keep failing you.”

“Don't say that, please.” you choked on a sob, closing your eyes shut tightly. Here he was, taking the blame for something he had no power of and wanting nothing more than to help you out, and you'd still kept so many secrets about it from him “It's not your fault.” you tried to say as steadily and firmly as you could.

He still shook his head stubbornly “And with them-” he scoffed a laugh before saying in a gruff voice “Him, here and making accusations and questions- They are responsible for things getting so bad and Sam and Jack wanted to- son of a bitch.” he growled, earning a frown from you.

“What about Sam and Jack?”

“They're here.” he said in a rough voice before explaining “Sam and Jack thought it would be a good thing to bring them here, all three of them, in the fucking bunker with us.”

“Wh-what?!” you gasped, your eyes going wide as you pulled away from to look into his eyes.

He turned to look at you, jaw clenched but also another feeling you couldn't quite describe there, maybe more directed at the blue-eyed man though “They said they'd give answers. The woman, uh Natasha, at least said she would. The others weren't much in for it, at least Captain douchebag wasn't.” he grumbled “She wanted the most to be here, to figure out what was going on and Sam and Jack were with her on that.”

“Nat seemed like a really good woman, though.” you said softly with a small smile and he sighed.

“Yeah, I guess.” he rested his head on top of yours “I wouldn't mind that much if it was only her, Sam maybe too. They asked questions but they weren't like-” he stopped for a moment.

You couldn't help but smirk and ask softly “Steve?” noticing the his eyes hardened again “You don't like him, do you?”

“If it was up to me, that Star-spangled asshole wouldn't come anywhere near you ever again.” he pursed his lips “He’s responsible for this, he’s-” he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Yet you let him in here.” you noted, playing with his fingers to calm him down, almost lacing yours with his. You smiled, knowing he did it because he was more concerned about finding a way to help you and he no wonder believed they were the key to it.

“Yes, well, I was outnumbered.” he defended himself and you grinned.

“Uh not really. You were 3 to 3.” you noted and he rolled his eyes but still managed to smile.

“I see you're good enough to outsass me too. Sam, Wilson, was more with Nat's side. It seemed like only Rogers and I didn't wanna be under the same roof. Couldn't avoid it, though.” he leaned in to kiss your forehead and let a sigh of relief “Good, that's good.” he breathed out as you looked up at him with a frown, so he explained “You were burning, before. Your temperature was really high.”

“Was I maybe-” but before you could get the chance to complete your sentence, there was a knock on the door “Yes” you said and it opened to reveal the nephilim with a worried expression on his face “Hey Jack” you breathed out as he stepped in.

“Hello. I just wanted to come and see how you are.” he said with a soft smile and you returned it.

“Alright-” Dean cleared his throat “I'll leave ya two kids alone and go check up on them. Not in the mood for any surprises.” he kissed the top of your head before letting go of you and getting up. He gave a small smile to Jack and a pat on the shoulder, as if to tell him to keep an eye out for you, before he left and closed the door behind you.

“Are you feeling better?” Jack asked gently, taking a seat on the chair closest to your bed.

You smiled, nodding your head “Yeah uh I'm- I'm better now.” you looked down at your hands, nervous for a second before you asked “H-hey Jack, uh do you remember back when you started talking ab-about Captain America and what you'd found out about him?”

“Steve Rogers, yes.” he nodded his head and you tried to swallow over the lump that formed in your throat at the mention of his name.

“Yes uh Steve.” you took a deep breath, looking at him “Do you think you could... tell me more about him now? Everything you've found out? I'd really like that.”

~*~

“So, hunters huh?” it was Sam's, Wilson's, voice that was the first thing you heard as you made your way to the map room “And you grew up into this?”

“Wasn't easy but, yeah, that's our life.” your Sam said calmly, trying to make a normal conversation as much as he could “From vampires, to werewolves and to demons. Pretty much anything that goes bump in the night.”

“And angels?” it was Natasha's voice, an interest in it that you couldn't understand.

“We don't normally hunt those.” you spoke up in a soft voice, finally entering the room, gaining all of their attention “There are many left anyway, but when they stay out of our business we don't go picking up a fight. We only hunt monsters that hurt people, you know, to save as many innocent lives as we can.”

“We?” she raised an eyebrow and you shrugged softly, making her nod her head and look down with a frown “You're a hunter too.” she muttered. Moments like this you really wanted to know what could be going through her head, but you were more interested in other things and people – namely one man – to question her.

“How's your leg?” you asked gently, and she offered you a small albeit sad smile that was barely visible.

“All in place, thanks to Jack. Thank you.” she said and you gave her a nod, chewing nervously on your lower lip. You wanted so bad to just utter the question but you didn't even know how to form the proper words so instead you looked around nervously and despite how subtle you tried to be, she picked up on it, and with a small nod of her head in his direction you were able to spot the blue-eyed man. Much to your dismay he was looking at the books and old weapons you had in the bunker and not paying any attention to you, so you only faced his broad back. Whether he was so taken by everything around him or he did it on purpose so that he wouldn't have to face you, you didn't know, but you knew very well it made your heart ache.

“And-” Sam Wilson cleared his throat when a very heavy silence set in the room and nobody dared utter a word. Dean was all-too-focused on his beer, Sam looked awkward but in deep thought, even Natasha had her eyes casted down and Steve... well, he was more of a statue than human “Does it always involve such paperwork or are you just big literature fans?”

“No uh it does, sometimes.” you decided to speak up, moving to sit between him and Dean “Research is not fun for sure. You can ask Dean all about it, he'll surely tell you about how every bad hunt experience revolves around it.” you glanced at him to see his eyes had not left the drink but a small smirk tugged at his lips, and you welcomed his hand when it took hold of yours while missing how Sam noticed it with a deep frown “Anyway, uhm we didn't gather all this, though. This place was built long long ago, it belongs to a secret organization. It was passed down to us from our ancestors, they also got involved with the supernatural and all. They were the Men of Letters.”

And those three last words were enough to make their interest peak once more. Natasha's head snapped up and her eyes widened and a smile slowly started spreading on her lips as if it was some proof “Men of Letters?” she asked as you nodded with a frown and her head snapped in the soldier's direction “Steve... Steve once met a Man of letters.”

Your eyes instantly fell on him, you noticed his body had gone rigid and you actually held your breath as you waited for him to either speak or turn, and he did both “Once” he walked towards a chair, resting his weight on it as his eyes stayed focused on the ground and his jaw was clenched “It was way back in the days, during World War II. Doesn't mean anything.” he looked up, his eyes meeting yours but they were nowhere near warm or innocent as what you could remember from your dream.

“So that means what Jack found was correct.” Sam breathed out, his eyes going wide as a small laugh left his lips “A man of letters did travel to your universe and he- Wait, then how can you be here if you belong in a different dimension? You're- Traveling between realities is not easy and it would require the grace of an Archangel to-”

“Alright, what's the point of this?” it was Dean that snapped “We said we'd give answers, not chit chat like girlfriends in a freaking slumber party. And so far all I hear is stories of the past that I'm still not willing to believe.”

“What's your problem anyway?” it was Steve that snapped back at him surprising everyone in the room because of how isolated he had previously been “You only demand answers but are nowhere near willing to listen. Do you think playing tough is going to intimidate us into just giving you what you want from us? Each one of us has seen more horror than you can ever imagine.”

“Oh you have no idea how much horror can really be out there, trust me, buddy. Besides, I wouldn't have any problem or trouble getting it out of you.” the moment the older Winchester got up from his seat you jumped as well with wide eyes.

“Dean” you whispered but he was too busy glaring daggers at Steve.

“What do you wanna know so bad anyway? You can see we're just as clueless as you on this!” he motioned to his friends.

“Doesn't seem much like it to me and I got way better things to do.” Dean muttered “And I want to know why the hell did she pass out the freaking second she touched you! That's what I want to know.”

“Dean, enough!” you said louder this time but still calmly, taking hold of his hand again and placing the other on his chest as you stood in front of him “Enough. Please... for me.” he kept his eyes on Steve for only a few more second before they lowered to meet yours and he finally took a step back.

You missed the way Steve's eyes widen or filled with pain but he was fast to cover it up, clearing his throat “We had better things to do, too. Millions of people's lives depend on it, we're not here just for fun. We were on a mission, we shouldn't even be thinking of wasting time.”

“Then there's the freakin' door.” he glared at him one last time before looking away from him.

“Dean” Natasha spoke as calmly as she could “I assure you, we're not here to waste yours or our time for that matter. Because we don't have any to begin with. We're only trying to figure out something that could possibly change our lives, that's all. And-” she sighed softly before looking at Sam “Yes, I know it is hard to travel between realities. But things do become a little easier when you have an Infinity Stone in your hands that can take you wherever you want, the Space Stone.”

“Space stone?” the younger Winchester frowned, looking at you but before he could ask more, Jack came rushing in after the phone call you'd told him to make to and check up with Mary and Castiel.

“They found it, I just talked with Castiel!” he said, gaining your attention “Orangle glowing stone and an old abandoned airport that smells of sulfur. It's demons for sure!”

“Orange glowing stone?” Wilson muttered as they all looked shared a look.

“Is that why were at the station?”

Natasha asked you at the same time Steve breathed out “The soul stone.” and made your eyes widen “We need to go get it, now!”

“Wait- wait you were looking for it too?” Sam blinked, making him pause in his steps.

“Too?” his eyes moved from Sam to you, with an expression you couldn't read this time.

“Wait-” Jack spoke up, a grin slowly spreading on his lips as he couldn't help but say, in excitement and with obviously a lot of optimism, something that only made every hint of relief vanish from Dean's face and a heavy sigh leave his lips and mutter “Damn it.”

“Does that mean we are going to team up?”

~~~

Chapter 3

[reddieforlove-archive-blog]

New

Eddie stared at the building, unable to shake the intimidated feeling that rose in his chest. His backpack was hugged to his chest and he resisted the urge to chew on his lower lip that already bore the marks of his teeth’s abuse from the past several days. As much as he knew he couldn’t sit there forever, it was hard to make his body move.

“You okay?”

A hand settled on his arm and he inhaled deeply, turning his eyes away from the school and towards his dad. Frank Kaspbrak was a kind-eyed man with a gentle touch and an understanding nature. In every possible way, he was as far from Eddie’s mother as possible. They were still adjusting. It wasn’t easy, especially with all of his mother’s many, horrible words and actions still rattling around in his head.

But they were trying.

So Eddie shrugged one shoulder and held onto his backpack just a little tighter. His eyes darted back to the place that would be his new high school. Several large, brown-bricked buildings full of people he didn’t know. Desks covered in germs and air filled with possible diseases. Eddie fought the need to reach for the hand sanitizer he had zipped into the front pocket of his bag.

“I will be,” Eddie said, doing his best to sound confident.

His dad gave him a small smile, looking even less certain than Eddie felt.

“I don’t… want to hover,” Frank said hesitantly, making it clear that he knew exactly the kind of person his ex-wife turned out to be. “But I’m a phone call away.”

Eddie nodded slowly, still trying to figure out whether he found that reassurance comforting yet.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

Then he was reaching out with an uncertain hand, knowing that he couldn’t delay the inevitable. He slipped out of the car and inhaled sharply when his feet hit the pavement. They were just on the cusp of spring, with the morning air crisp and sun shining brightly over the green grass and blooming flowers. Eddie blinked against the brightness as he stepped on the sidewalk and slipped his backpack up onto his shoulders.

As he walked, Eddie’s eyes were lowered to the ground for the most part, only darting up to measure how much further he had to go to the doors that seemed so far away. There was activity all around him, students talking and laughing and constantly moving around. Eddie tried his best to block them all out, closing his hands around the straps of his back and focusing on breathing in and out.

Then he heard a loud laugh, delighted and carefree and rising above everything else. Eddie’s head lifted just slightly and turned, his eyes falling on a group not far away. Five boys and a girl, gathered under the shade of a tree with differing expressions on their faces all varying from annoyance to amusement. His steps slowed as he watched them, his eyes mostly falling on the one who laughed.

His hair was dark brown, verging on black and his shirt was an atrocious lime green Hawaiian print. He was lying on an incredibly uncomfortable looking bench, a worn jean jacket thrown across his lap and rips in the knees of his black jeans. He was gesturing wildly about whatever he was saying, making the redhead girl laugh as she leaned into the side of a strong-looking blonde boy.

Eddie didn’t realize that he’d all but stopped, unable to explain the inexplicable draw to watch them, until the loud boy’s eyes darted away from his friends and somehow fixed straight on Eddie. With a small gasp, Eddie turned his head away and picked up his pace again, heading for the door. He didn’t mean to get in anyone’s crosshairs, not when he hadn’t even stepped foot in the high school yet.

“Richie where the hell are you going?” he heard someone call out.

“Don’t worry about it Staniel!”

Eddie’s breathing picked up in his chest and he braced himself as he saw the much taller boy approaching out of the corner of his eye. He was prepared for the worst. Name calling and cruel jokes and even being tripped or shoved because it was all he ever learned to expect at his old school where Henry Bowers ruled all and made Eddie public enemy number one.

Instead, what he got was a breathless “Hey!” as the boy fell into step with him. It was hard for Eddie to even hear it at first. He frowned a little, not slowing for even a second as he gave him a side glance. It was easier now to see his features. Freckles that dotted across his cheeks and nose and bright blue eyes surrounded by sweeping dark lashes. Chapped lips and a scar on his chin along with a black stud earring in his ear.

“What?” Eddie finally said, unable to quite wrap his mind around what was happening.

“I just thought I’d roll out the red carpet for you, buddy, metaphorically speaking,” the boy said in an odd accent, getting a little ahead of Eddie so that he could turn around and face him while walking backwards. “See, I’m the welcoming committee at this here institution and it has been a while since we’ve had any fresh meat as cute as you. Handsome Hanscom over there was our last newbie and that feels like it was about twenty-seven fuckin’ years ago if you know what I mean.”

Eddie blinked, stopping place again as he tried to sort out and make sense of the out pour of words.

“Welcoming committee?” he finally said.

“Oh yeah,” the boy, Richie apparently, said with a nod that made his dark curls bounce around his head. “We take the induction of new kids very seriously around here. It’s my job to make sure that you are feeling as warm and welcome as possible. Anything I can do to facilitate your… needs. Just call on me, baby.”

He punctuated his words by giving Eddie a very slow once-over with his eyes as a grin tugged at his lips. Eddie’s own eyes narrowed, anger rising in his chest that may have not had everything to do with this Richie guy, but that was certainly called forth by him.

“Do you think this is funny?” Eddie demanded, stepping towards him.

The humor on Richie’s face faded just slightly, his eyes widening a little bit.

“Uh…” he trailed off, looking as if he was trying to figure out the right answer.

“I’m not interested in letting you turn me into the school joke on my first day, thank you very much,” Eddie said brusquely, already moving forward to sweep past him. “Fuck off back to your friends and stay away from me.”

It probably wasn’t the best reaction he could have had. Eddie could have handled the entire situation with far more grace and politeness than he did. But the anger that bubbled up in his chest just made him see red, which he now regretted, cursing his words and actions with every step he took. But he didn’t look back, pulling open the door and stepping inside of the school while inwardly hoping that he never had to come across that boy again.

*

It didn’t take long for his hopes to fall flat. Eddie made it through two full classes before finding his way to the third and walking in only to find himself face-to-face with Richie. Well, not quite that dramatically. But he was certainly sitting in the middle row next to the window with a pencil tucked behind his ear and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he scribbled out something into a shabby-looking notebook.

Eddie drew up short, inwardly cursing up a storm as he took a deep breath and tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter. He was really unconvincing. He heard someone complaining about blocking the door behind him and quickly moved, walking to the teacher’s desk slowly as if he was being led to his death. It was only a matter of time before he got noticed. His cheeks were already warming at the idea of it.

“Can I help you?” the teacher asked.

Eddie swallowed hard and nodded, shoving his neatly folded piece of paper towards the older man.

“I’m Eddie Kaspbrak,” he said quietly.

“Ah yes,” the teacher said, peering through his small reading glasses at the paper that introduced him as a new student. “I heard I’d be getting you in here. Wait a minute until everyone gets seated and we’ll find a place for you, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie said, stepping to the side of the desk so that he wouldn’t be in the way.

He kept his eyes lowered to his folded hands as he bit down on the inside of his cheek.

“Nice shirt, Tozier,” he heard someone said with a snicker in his voice. “I think my grandpa might have it too.”

“Good one,” a familiar voice shot back, sounding utterly unconcerned. “You know, I think I heard you practicing it in the mirror when I snuck in through your mom’s window for a nice long fu-”

“Boys,” the teacher said, interrupting them as Eddie’s eyes widened.

He, along with every other person in the room, was easily able parse out what Richie was about to say.

“Sorry Mr. T,” Richie said as a few quiet giggles rose up around him, his voice making it clear he was smiling.

Eddie risked a glance up only to see that those blue eyes were fixed on him already. He looked away, focusing on the pattern of the teacher’s desk as if it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

“Take your pick, Mr. Kaspbrak,” the teacher said, gesturing his hand over the classroom while looking down at an attendance book.

Eddie peeked up and swept his eyes over the seats. There were three spare ones. One in the back corner beside the trash can. There was no way in hell that Eddie was going anywhere near that. Another was next to a beefy looking guy with a Letterman jacket and intent in his small, beady eyes. Eddie didn’t know for sure what that intent was but he wasn’t willing to find out.

That left the last one as his best option. The one that was by the window, next to last row, right behind Richie Tozier. Eddie stared at it for a long moment, knowing that he had little choice otherwise. So he moved forward, slipping his backpack from his shoulders as he went. As he drew closer, he saw that even bent, Richie’s legs were too long for the desk and sticking out of either side as he had them splayed out.

Eddie turned to the side to keep from brushing his knee, feeling Richie’s eyes on his face but refusing to look back. He took the seat with a hard swallow, setting his backpack next to his desk after curling one leg beneath him. He unzipped his bag and pulled out a notebook and pencil, feeling strangely jittery as he did it all. The teacher started going through attendance, calling out first names in a bored tone.

It wasn’t until he saw Richie turning around, clearly intending to face him, that Eddie’s heart jumped in his chest and his breath caught in his throat. He didn’t want to be confronted with his biting response from before. He just wanted to forget all about it. He lifted his eyes to meet Richie’s when he finally faced him, preparing for the worst. But then, when the other boy barely managed to open his mouth, someone else spoke nearby.

“Richie.”

Both Eddie and Richie looked to their right, to a boy with angular cheekbones, clear skin, golden brown curly hair, and a stern look in his eyes. He looked at Richie, shaking his head once. Eddie glanced between the two, watching a silent conversation pass between them. Then Richie was turning around again with a huff, muttering something underneath his breath that Eddie couldn’t hear.

He looked to the boy who interrupted and saw both curiosity and uncertainty in his eyes as he stared right back at Eddie. With a small, polite smile, he turned to look at the front of the classroom, leaving Eddie to consider the whole strange interaction until he heard the sound of his name being called for attendance, uttering a quiet “here” before sitting back in his seat and praying for the class to go quickly.

*

The rest of the day went quickly, much to Eddie’s relief. He only had Richie in two more of his classes and managed to avoid him in both. He recognized his friends too, both from seeing them outside that morning and from the curious looks they shot his way, even more than the rest of the school. Eddie avoided all of them too, eating alone beneath a tree outside and moving through the halls quickly.

It wasn’t until the end of the school day that it all came to a head. He was headed down the sidewalk, mapping his journey in his mind since he had to meet his dad at his shop instead of being picked up. He went over it several times with his father, not wanting to get lost in the town on his first day. He was so lost in his mind that stopped short and nearly tripped when a skateboard rolled into his path, his eyes darting up from the ground just as someone spoke.

“If it isn’t the new kid.”

Eddie recognized the voice as the boy who taunted Richie in third period. His instinctively reached towards his pocket as he watched the blonde-haired boy with cold grey eyes walk into his path, kicking the skateboard up into his hand. His inhaler wasn’t there. Eddie made himself stop carrying it around, even going so far as to throw it away before moving into his dad’s house.

His tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of his mouth as a few other boys lingered nearby, all grinning at whatever they anticipated would happen. Eddie’s eyes darted up to the school with uncertainty, wondering if the staff here cared very little for the safety of his students just like at his last school. His eyes flitted back to the person in his path, wondering if he would stop Eddie if he just tried to walk away.

“That’s a pretty fruity shirt, don’t you think?” the boy asked, smirking as his friends all laughed.

Eddie didn’t feel insulted by the dig at his shirt. The color of his clothes wasn’t going to change anything about him. Wearing pink didn’t make him gay. Wanting to kiss boys made him gay, which in turn caused his mother’s ultimate breakdown that had the neighbors calling the cops which lead to a judge handing full custody over to his dad. Eddie felt his retort rising to his lips before he could help it, his anger taking over again.

“You seem really concerned about what other people wear,” Eddie said, tilting his head to the side. “Are you interested in the fashion industry?”

The boy seemed to glitch at that, his eyes darting all over Eddie’s face.

“What the fuck are you trying to say?” he demanded after a few seconds.

Eddie didn’t say anything, sighing inwardly at his own inability to keep himself under control. But before either of them could do anything else, someone stepped up next to him.

“Oh Austin Austin Austin,” Richie Tozier of all people said, shaking his head. “I know you’ve probably gone partially deaf from hearing your old lady scream my name night after night but I believe the young lad here was suggesting that you have a curious interest in the things that other men wear. Is it true, sir?”

He held his hand out as if he was holding a news microphone even though there was nothing there. Austin didn’t hesitate to slap his hand away, stepping forward with fury in his eyes.

“You just hoping you finally found a pillow princess to hop on your dick, Tozier?” the seething boy demanded.

Eddie gritted his teeth, his hands curling into fists.

“You mean you’re not volunteering?” Richie asked without missing a beat, pouting slightly. “I thought we really had something going, sweetheart.”

“In your fucking dreams,” Austin said, shoving Richie.

Eddie moved with him as he stumbled backwards, not really knowing why he did it. He just felt the same pull from before, trying to keep him close to Richie and far away from the obvious bully.

“Hey,” a strong, warm voice came from behind them.

Both Eddie and Richie turned their heads in time to see a boy their age with dark skin and hair and a concerned expression on his face step up behind them. One hand rose to clasp at Richie’s shoulder and for a second, Eddie was afraid that he was another bully. Then he was moving between them, staring Austin down as he exuded a calm, collected aura that was entirely unlike Richie’s chaotic energy and Eddie’s own quick temper.

“I think it’s time we all walk away,” the boy said.

He was much taller than Austin and looked as though he could easily toss him several yards if he wanted to. Eddie wasn’t surprised when Austin stepped away, narrowing his eyes at all three of them.

“You fairies got lucky today,” he said, making it clear that he was talking to Eddie and Richie alone.

Then he and his friends were wandering off, sauntering away to clearly try and safe face like they didn’t all flee at the sight of the bigger boy. Richie let out a heavy sigh as Eddie stepped away from the both of them, uncertain as to what he was supposed to do now.

“You’re a goddamn hero, Mikey-Mike,” Richie said, bumping fists with the boy that Eddie didn’t know. “I think he was about to eat us for dinner.”

“Maybe if you’d stop baiting him with jokes about his mom,” Mike said with a smile and a shake of his head.

“Nonsense,” Richie declared dramatically. “You can’t stop our love.”

Then his eyes moved to Eddie as Mike stepped away. Eddie shifted in place with uncertainty, wishing that he’d moved a little faster to avoid the whole situation with Austin and now with Richie. To be fair, the other boy looked just as uncertain as he felt.

“Thank you,” Eddie finally said.

Not because he needed the help or he couldn’t handle himself. He probably could have figured a way out. But after a lifetime of dealing with a lot on his own, it was surprisingly nice for someone to have his back. Eddie didn’t really know how to react to it. All that he knew was that he might have judged Richie Tozier entirely wrong.

“Ain’t no big thing, cutie,” Richie said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

Eddie’s cheeks filled with color and he shook his head, looking away from Richie. He knew that he should get going. It wasn’t a far walk and his dad would worry if he didn’t show up soon. But still he stood there, staring at Richie as Richie stared back.

“I’m Eddie,” he finally said, reaching out his hand. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Richie Tozier,” Richie said in yet another strange voice that Eddie couldn’t quite place. “The man with a plan and a short term memory. Don’t you think on it for a second.”

He punctuated his words with a wink and Eddie tried his best not to smile.

“What’s your plan?” he asked.

“Ask me when you’re older and I may tell you,” Richie said mysteriously.

He was frustrating. Eddie was rapidly coming to understand that. But he almost didn’t mind it.

“Goodbye, Richie Tozier,” Eddie said, already turning to walk away.

“Short and sweet, I like it,” Richie decided. “See you later, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie stopped short, turning his head as his face darkened.

“Never call me that again,” he said in a low voice.

Richie’s face brightened and his eyes gleamed with mischief. Eddie was almost certain that he’d be hearing it again.

“The cutest,” Richie said with a shake of his head, grinning at him before turning away to walk down the sidewalk towards where his friends were waiting.

Eddie began his walk towards the auto garage that his father owned, ruminating over the odd interaction and wondering if he might have just found a friend in the very odd boy. The more he thought about it, the more he knew he wouldn’t really mind being friends with Richie. By the time he reached the garage, there was a smile on his lips and Eddie found himself almost looking forward to school the next day.

[kazosa]

Second Chances - Jeff x Reader: Chapter 14

Summary: Reader and Jeff work a project and become fast friends. The project ends and they go their separate ways, neither forgetting the other. With Hollywood being a small community, you two bump into one another either at events or projects, but there is always something keeping you apart. Will the obstacles ever end? Chapter 14 Summary: All of the happenings in California Warnings: language (probably), confrontation A/N: I have a few ideas to continue this, but it’s still developing. Please leave comments or let me know if you want to be tagged, etc Word count: 2700(ish) Catch up here: Masterlist

Tags: @jml509  @jasoncrouse  @yellatthetopofyourlungs  @bookchic20  @prettyepiic  @rizflo-blog  @curious-sub7  @backseat-negan

“You like fucking my husband?”

     Even if the car hadn’t been blasting the A/C, you would still have felt the chill from the other side of the car. Of all the days she could show up, why this one? How did she even know? How did she get on the lot? If you hadn’t been so crabby from being awake since 0430 and it was now quickly approaching 1930, and you hadn’t even left the lot yet, you might have been intimidated by Anya Longwell.

     You slowly turned your head to look at her, hoping your face adequately displayed your annoyance. She was wearing large, dark sunglasses inside a fully tinted car. She was wearing a white tank top and green linen pants. She had the look of an actress from the 40s. Her tanned skin being shown off by fine gold jewelry and sandals on her feet.      What to do? Sweet or Salty?      “Yes, I do, the man is insatiable. I’ve barely slept in the last four days,” you answered her question. “Get the fuck out of my car.” Tapping on the window.      “Ms. (Y|L|N)? I think you locked me out,” Patrick, your driver, said.      “No, Patrick, I didn’t. I’m not alone, please get security!” you called to him. Your turned your attention to Anya, “You’ve got 5-10 minutes to say what you need to say before security gets here.”      “You need to stay away from my husband. You’re the reason this all started. He still loves me!” she ended on a shrill note. You couldn’t tell who she was trying to convince.      “Jesus, lord, help me,” you muttered rubbing your forehead. You had zero time for this shit. “Jeff didn’t cheat on you, not with me. When I met him, he seemed pretty lonely and he and I became friends and that was as far as it went. Nothing started because of me.”      “But you loved him back then, didn’t you? I know I’m not wrong about that,” she countered.      You sighed, “Yes, I did, but I never acted on it. I wasn’t even sure what I felt was love,” you told her.      She started sobbing, “Oh God, I’ve lost him.”      “You lost him a long time ago. That doesn’t mean what you had wasn’t real. It doesn’t mean you can’t find love again, it just won’t be with Jeff,” you told her in such a way as to indicate it wasn’t up for discussion.      Anya took a tissue from her purse and dabbed her eyes. “I see why he likes you. You’re tough when you need to be and nice when you don’t have to be,” she sniffled.      “This isn’t going to be a thing, is it? Am I going to be looking over my shoulder forever?” you asked her.      She scoffed, “No. I’m embarrassed. I’m too old to be acting like a middle school brat.” She reached for the unlock button. “I was grasping at straws that weren’t there. I won’t bother either of you again. I…” she paused taking off her sunglasses. Her eyes were red and puffy like she’d been crying a lot before your meeting. “I hope you can forgive me.” Anya didn’t wait for an answer, she practically sprung out of the car.      You got out on your side and saw her walking quickly away from the car and the guards that were approaching with Patrick. You rested your arms on the top of the car watching as Anya walked away. Patrick looked frantic.      “(Y|N) are you okay?!”      “I’m good,” you waved, nonchalant, but your heart was pounding in your chest.      One of the guards came over to you and the other went to catch up to Anya.      “Are you okay?” officer Mathis asked.      “Yes, I’m fine, we both are. She just scared me. I wasn’t expecting to see her,” you told him.      “Do you want to press any charges?” he asked you.      “No, but could you make sure she gets home okay? She’s had a rough day,” you said. “Call her a cab or something?”

     Security needed you for another ten minutes before they had the information the needed for their report and let you and Patrick go on your way. Once you were off the lot, Patrick looked at you in his rear-view mirror.      “I am so sorry, (Y|N),” Patrick said. “I only left the car to get you.”      “It’s okay, Patrick,” you said. “She didn’t mean any harm. She knows she screwed up. And I’ll survive a hot car for a few minutes if you lock it from now on.”      “Are you always this nice?” he asked, expecting an ass-chewing.      “Nah, sometimes I’m cute,” you smirked. “I can rip you a new one if you want, Patrick, but I really just want to go home. Would you put the divider thingy up?”      The hum of the electric motor on the divider began almost immediately. You pulled out your phone from your bag. The green light was blinking. You pushed the button to light up the display. Two missed calls from Jeff.      You flipped open your phone and held down the #2 button. “Calling Jeff” You sighed and closed your eyes as the phone rang.      “Hey, sweetheart,” he answered.      You felt a knot in your shoulder relax. Your hand absently went to the star that hung around your neck.      “Hello m’love,” you said like a hum. “On my way.”      “Sweet. So, tell me, how was your first day?” he asked.      You glossed over the small details, but you filled him in on Jared and his antics. He was happy to hear about Julius and asked if he was still stuck in the 70s. You told him he was and that his pantsuit today was spectacular. Jeff told you to give him his best when you saw him again. Then you got down to it. You told him about Anya.      “You’re too nice. You shoulda kicked her ass,” he said, the fury evident in his voice. It always dropped in tone when he was mad. Thankfully, you rarely saw his temper and it was never directed at you.      “C’mon, you know that’s not fair. She…” you sighed, you really were too nice. “She was just having a hard time coming to terms with letting you go.”      He paused for a few moments. Jeff had cut her little slack since she filed for divorce.      “I’m not asking you to be nice. I’m just saying it’s hard on her too, even though she filed,” you said.      “How’d I ever get someone like you in my life?” he asked.      “Bad taste and pure luck,” you joked.      As usual, he knew what you meant, the bad movie you both worked on, and maybe Anya, too. The pure luck was just that they happened to meet on that shit-show.      “Ouch! Well, I’d do it all again if it means I get to have you. We already know what a catch I am,” he was such a charmer.

     Somehow, you’d managed to find time to figure out how the gear shifting worked on motorcycles and got some good practice time in. You were getting better quickly, but Jeff insisted on taking you to and from work for another week to get you solid on the bike. It was nice, you got to take little naps on the way home. After one week of getting up before the sun, he thought you were good enough to ride in on your own.

     Work was good too. You figured out what it took to get Jared to where he needed to be, on time, and production was happy. Once you got that worked out, the rest of your work became much easier and you were less exhausted at the end of the day. Sometimes, you even ran lines with Jared.      “You sure you never acted before?” he asked you.      “Oh yes, I love the craft, but I freeze up when people are watching,” you explained.      “You were great with me just now,” he said.      “You, I know. We’re cool. It’s different when it’s for show,” you clarified. “I just can’t manage to spit it out when the money is on the line.”      “You should try it again some time, go to auditions. I’ll help you if you want,” he offered.      You chuckled at the thought, “You’re a sweet guy.” You didn’t say any more, but the seed idea had been planted, just the same.       Some of your favorite days were rain delay days. It only happened twice, but on those days, you and Jared hung out and talked books and travel and whatever else came to mind. You figured out why it was Jared ate so much food and never put on any weight. He literally couldn’t sit still. He was active all the time. If he wasn’t exercising, he was a voracious reader exercising his mind. He was great to talk to also, you learned a ton from him. He thought it was cool that you’d learned to ride a motorcycle, as well as appreciated your gaming skills.

     You were finishing up a night shoot and everyone had gone home already. After night shoots, people scattered like ants from set where wrap was called. You had forgotten to put your jacket in your bag and went back to Jared’s trailer to grab it. When you went to start the Norton, it wouldn’t turn over. You had a small panic before you called Jeff for help.      “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said.      “What the hell am I supposed to do? I’m not gonna sleep in Jared’s trailer, I need to get home to let Bisou out,” your panic was still going.      Jeff was out of town doing a guest spot on another show and couldn’t come down to Burbank to help you.      “Baby, it’s okay,” he said again. “Let me get off the phone and see what I can do. I’ll call you back.”      You walked around the lot pacing off your nervous energy. Maybe five minutes passed before Jeff called you back.      “That was quick,” you answered, “please tell me you have good news.”      You could hear him sigh, he was so patient with you and your stress. “(Y|N), my buddy Norman is already on the way. He’s not too far from you and he used to fix bikes back in the day.”      “Is this the buddy Norman that sends you all the weird shit?” you asked.      You hear Jeff chuckle, “Yeah, that’s the one. He’s a good guy. If he can’t get the Norton running, he’ll take you home.”      “Okay, I’ll be on the lookout for him,” you said.

     You went to the security shack to let them know you were having a guest and where you’d be. Twenty minutes later, you heard the rumble of another motorcycle pull up. He pulled off his helmet to reveal his short cut sandy blonde hair. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans with converse shoes and black Ray-Bans. He strode over to you, his hand outstretched. You knew you’d seen him before, but you couldn’t remember if Jeff had introduced you.      You took his hand, noticing it was already greasy.      “Hi, I’m Norman,” he said. “Jeff’s told me a lot about you.”      “Nice to meet you,” you said. “Jeff told you about me huh? All I can remember is that he told me you can fix bikes.”      “Yeah, used to do it in my past life,” he said, looking at the bike, then you.      “I’m sorry, have we met before? I feel like we’ve met,” you say.      “Nah, I get that a lot,” he said. Was he blushing? “So, what’s going on?”      You told him what you knew, which wasn’t much and he started fiddling with the bike. He had you watch so that if this happened again, you’d know what to do.      “Ah, fuck it, you got shit to do, right?” he said, frustrated when he couldn’t get it running.      You nodded to him.      “Alright, get your stuff, let’s get outta here. I can come back later and take it to my buddy’s shop,” he said putting his tools away.      He handed you a rag and you cleaned off the little bit of grease you had on your hands.      “Now you’re a real biker chick. Not a real one until you’ve had to work on your bike in the middle of nowhere. It’s not nowhere, but it may as well be,” he said as you clicked your helmet chin strap in place.      “Ready?” he asked.      “As I’ll ever be,” you said.      “Hop on,” he told you.      You swung a leg over and your feet found the pegs. If he drove anything like Jeff, you’d be hanging on for dear life, so you wrapped your arms around your new friend’s chest. It finally hit you how you knew Norman.      “Oh shit, you played Murphy McManus. Dude, I liked your movie,” you said into his ear.      He patted your hands that were gripping your own arms. “Jeff told me you were a cool chick.”

     Norman got you home in no time and Bisou was so happy to see you. She was a good girl and didn’t make a mess in the house. Norman made sure you got inside okay and assured you he’d take care of the Norton for you, but that you’d probably need to make arrangements for tonight to get to work.      “Can you work something out?” he asked. “I’ve got a thing I have to be at tonight, but if the bike isn’t ready by tomorrow, I can take you then.”      “Oh, you’re sweet. Yeah, I think I can call Jared to get me,” you said. You thanked him profusely for his help and told him that you, he and Jeff would have to get together sometime to have dinner and drinks. He thought that was a good idea too and you both said your goodbyes. You decided you liked that guy, Norman.

     Jeff was absolutely wonderful. Living with him had been a dream. You and he got along so well, it was almost gross. There was only one thing that caused a little fight between the two of you, it was about his manager, Marne. Marne was a family friend and had been doing a decent job, but she was also the one who got him the gig on the crap movie you two met on. That was about the nicest thing you could say about her. She had not been doing the best job of getting scripts for Jeff and you let him know it.      “I’m not going to fire someone that’s been like family to me,” he said.      “She could be doing so much better for you! Hell, I bet I could get you a better script than what she’s been pulling in,” you said, hot.      “Oh, you think you can do better than someone who’s been doing this work a hell of a lot longer than you? You’ve been in this business for four years, (Y|N), Marne has been doing this for over 20,” Jeff countered, just as hot.      “Looks like it’s time for Marne to retire!”      You dropped the conversation after that, but you hoped it had stuck in his mind a little bit, at least. A few days later, because you could be just as stubborn as he, you finally said you were sorry for your outburst about Marne. After all, it was getting close to time for you to go back to Philly and you didn’t want to leave Jeff on a sour note.      “I’m sorry I was an asshole,” you told him. “I just want all of the good things for you.”      You were sitting on the back patio having dinner. Jeff took a drink of his whisky. “I’m sorry I took a shot at your experience.”      “Well, I was being an asshole… I kinda deserved it,” you conceded. It didn’t mean you thought you were wrong. Marne could have been doing so much better.      A few days later, the Norton was packed away in Jeff’s garage, you played with Bisou in the backyard for a few hours and then you were back on a plane to Philly. Alone, again.

[starlitsea]

Okay, so they got out of that jam. But there are barely any escape pods that survived.

Trip and T’Pol standing together in the Mirror Universe. The more things change …

T’Pol’s trying to use logic. Archer doesn’t like logic. I wonder if anyone else has misgivings about having a guy this close to being completely unhinged as their Captain? Ehhh, I guess this is par for the course for the Empire.

Archer wants to shoot T’Pol but is restraining himself. She tells him that Forrest ordered her to kill him, but now he’s dead so Archer is her commanding officer and she’ll do what he says.

Archer: I would kill you by throwing you out an airlock but we don���t have enough people to man this ship, and we definitely don’t have anyone who can do your job. So watch yourself!

Hoshi laughing at Archer wearing TOS clothes. He actually looks fine. LOL.

They’re shocked that there’s no Empire in the regular universe.

Drinking bright neon green alcohol.

Looking up their profiles on Wikipedia …

Hoshi definitely gets married. Two planets were named after Archer, huh.

Archer’s just gonna keep the Defiant.

Kelby is just as competent in this universe. That’s not a compliment.

Trip is pissed and rocking his Phantom of the Opera look.

Welp, Kelby became a snack. He was apparently eaten by a dinosaur.

Everyone is rocking the TOS wardrobe.

Travis is just beating up this poor alien. Mirror!Archer is actually GOOD at intimidation unlike regular Archer. I feel so bad for this blue alien? I mean, he’s a slave, he’s been captured by hostile aliens, he’s getting the crap beaten out of him … Protect this poor blue alien!

Mirror!Archer is having hallucinations of regular Archer.

The Gorn wants to leave but Archer just wants to yell at him. The Gorn hangs up.

Look at all these hallucinations. Too many Archers!

I sort of wish they had been wearing the TOS uniforms this whole time? The red uniform really suits Malcolm?

BOOM. Even in the Mirrorverse Malcolm has to gasp out, “I failed you, Captain!” with potentially his last breath as Archer steps over his body. I can only side eye your life choices, Malcolm.

Archer and his MACO buddy are creeping around and stepping over dead people. :(

LOL. Please get eaten by the dinosaur. Poor dinosaur. Hmmm, there goes the MACO, but he no doubt engaged in a lot of atrocities so I don’t feel THAT bad.

T’Pol is so blase about saving Archer. She could really care less.

Poor dinosaur. Well, I guess he’s a slave master so I should really not have any sympathy for him. Welp, never mind.

T’Pol is eating fruits and veggies with Phlox. She’s trying to get Phlox on her side. In the other universe, everyone is equal.

Here comes the Defiant.

Travis looks good in the red uniform too.

Archer is just destroying all the rebel ships. T’Pol tries to save them but fails. She is so unhappy.

Archer wants the Defiant but that’s not happening. And now hallucinatory Archer is chatting away.

OMG, Travis like roundhouse kicks the Admiral. LOL.

Disintegrated.

Archer is giving a speech. Not about a gazelle.

T’Pol is still upset. She is making a live long and prosper gesture like the rebel she is.

T’Pol is so emotional. She wants to destroy the ship and get rid of Archer. Good girl.

Archer is having a crisis. He wants to kill all the non-humans on board due to his paranoia. Mirror Hoshi is so good at what she does. She even convinces Archer to spare Phlox.

T’Pol’s getting escorted to Transporter Room 2. Somehow she gets away and calls for Phlox.

The Vulcans are trying to sway Phlox to their side. We could be executed for treason along with Archer. The Emperor could reward you with a medical facility? The only thing that works is concubines. Evil Mirror Phlox is lonely it seems.

Hoshi wants the schematics from T’Pol. They’re hand to hand fighting and knife fighting.

Wow, Hoshi is implying that she also slept with Trip and T’Pol really doesn’t like the implication. Or maybe it’s the implication that she wasn’t as good as Hoshi. Mirror! Trip didn’t seem to have any problem last episode.

Poor T’Pol. She’s always getting into these fixes. 

Trip looks fine in the red uniform too but he’s better in blue.

Hoshi just wants T’Pol to be killed. Probably because she can recognize that T’Pol is a force to be reckoned with.

Trip is like WTF are you doing, Phlox?! Yes, everyone is always sabotaging your ship.

Archer is curled in a fetal position.

Damn, the Avenger just got blown up. :(

Archer is such a megalomaniac.

Hoshi is stone cold. Look at her making out with Travis over Archer’s soon-to-be dead body. Archer’s face … he is so betrayed.

The Empire guy is like WTF, where’s Archer?! He just had this same conversation about Admiral Black. LOL.

All hail Empress Hoshi.

No idea where T’Pol is, but I’m going to assume that Hoshi didn’t kill her for whatever reason.